#concert checklist

[evilovesyou]

With the intense heat going on at the moment, we thought it would be good to post a little heat protection check list!

We know these concerts are very intense and we all want to be close and have a good spot, but it’s really important to stay hydrated and protect yourself from the sun in this weather 🏳️‍🌈🧡🫶

[chesapeakebongripper]

FINALLY GOT TO GEAR THIS SONG LIVE YEAAAAAAHAGG

[plague-vulture]

using the reminders app so aggressively

[starlightkun]

⏯ word count: 13.7k ⏯ genre: band au, punk band frontman!shotaro, venue manager!reader, shotaro is whipped, reader is emotionally unavailable, is it a slowish burn or is it angst?, whatever it is ur reading a starlightkun fic so there’s a happy ending :), ft. eunseok/sungchan/wonbin as shotaro’s bandmates welcome back boys & wayv as reader’s coworkers ⏯ warnings: some blood/violence (shotaro gets punched once), not necessarily a warning but since i do generally avoid describing the reader’s appearance in my fics, i wanted to give a heads up—reader works at a punk/alternative concert venue and is generally in/around that scene. reader is mentioned and/or implied to have some tattoos and piercings (other than earlobes) ⏯ extra info: set in the same universe as filler episodes, but u don’t need to read that in order to understand this one, filler eps!sungchan and sugarcoated!shotaro r just in the same band! also the title is from a 5sos song lol ⏯ author’s note: sooo after writing filler episodes and experiencing bbb/lucky shotaro, i couldn’t get punk band frontman shotaro out of my head… i fear the trajectory of my life has been altered ⏯ now playing… empty wallets – 5 seconds of summer | apathy is boring – bears in trees | dreaming girl – xdinary heroes

── ⋆⋅♫⋅⋆ find more stories from backstage at venue:hell here!

“You’re not stupid. I know you’re not.” He stood up, stepping closer to you. “You always stop yourself right before… I’m sure you think you’re not leading me on or whatever, but I know you know how stupidly head over heels I am for you, because I don’t try to hide it.”

Flipping through your keyring, you selected the right key by touch in order to unlock the rear entrance to the venue. Despite the sweltering summer heat outside, the basement was cool as always. You flipped the AC and lights on as you disabled the alarm that wasn’t actually connected to a security company, then descended the stairs. Venue:Hell, your home away from home. Actually, you were pretty sure you spent more time here than your apartment some weeks.

Your phone buzzed with a text as you crossed the threshold into the back office, and you opened it as you flopped into the creaky office chair.

[kun: attached image]

[kun: new schedule for the month. y/n, don’t forget that you’re covering the new weekly act starting today]

It was your manager, and you read over the list of events for this week with mild interest. The two of you had already discussed that you’d be taking over being point with Venue:Hell’s weekly spot. The venue had a recurring local act come in every week to perform, typically a smaller artist, to help them build a base among your regulars. These guys had recently opened for one of your previous weekly acts on a national tour and your manager liked them enough to ask them to fill in the weekly spot when the tour made a stop here. You’d had that particular night off, so this was going to be your first time meeting the band.

As you went through your usual opening checklist, other employees filtered in, starting on their tasks. The venue usually provided all the staff and equipment for the weekly act. They just needed to show up and perform.

You were with your sound guy Yangyang by his equipment when you heard your name being called from elsewhere in the building.

“Yeah?” You yelled back, walking out from behind the curtain to look around for whoever it was.

Ten, who worked the front, was approaching with four guys in tow, instrument cases in hand. Must be the new band.

“New weekly is here!” He called out.

You hopped down off the stage to meet them on the main floor. “You guys are early.”

The band looked at each other, obviously worried. One that had a guitar case on his back spoke up uncertainly, “Is that a problem? We weren’t sure—”

“No, it’s fine. I’m pretty sure it’s a first, though,” you snickered.

“You got them?” Ten asked you. “Kunhang said he needed help.”

“Go for it,” you nodded, dismissing your coworker from the group.

Looking back at the four guys that you were left with, you started your spiel. “So, I’m Y/N, assistant manager at Venue:Hell. If you ever have any questions, need anything, let me know. I’m sure Kun already explained how our weekly spot works, but you guys will perform here every Thursday at 10:00 and have a forty-five-minute slot. It’s not exactly primetime, but it’s consistent and we have a good pool of regulars. You’ll also have priority for inclusion on lineups for any special events we host. If your weekly slot ever needs to be moved or canceled, we’ll give you as much of a heads-up as we can, but sometimes it will be very last-minute. If you ever need to miss a week, we ask the same from you, tell us as soon as possible. Make sense?”

You got four hasty nods in return.

“Great, let me show you to your green room.” Just as you were about to turn around and head off, you realized something. “Ah shit, I completely forgot to ask your name. Sorry.”

The guitarist that had spoken earlier offered you a big smile. His ears were adorned with metal, and you spotted some jewelry glinting from his nose, lip, and eyebrow too. His hair sort of reminded you of a dalmatian, a light blonde base with spots of dark black streaking through it. Overall, fit right in with the scene, except for his smile, which seemed to be made of sunshine and rainbows or something cheesy like that. You swore you needed sunglasses just looking at him.

“I’m Osaki Shotaro, uh, guitar, and I sing!” He informed you cheerily. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Jung Sungchan, drums,” the tallest one nodded. “And our band is called Roses for Eyes, by the way. Since Taro here forget to mention that.”

He slapped his friend on the shoulder, making Shotaro wince.

“Right…” Shotaro rubbed his neck. “You-You can also call me Taro, too, by the way. Everyone does. Like boba tea!”

“Cool.” You nodded, looking at the other two expectantly.

“Eunseok, I’m the bassist,” another introduced himself. “Sing a bit, I guess.”

The last one, with dark black hair save for a single hot pink streak in his bangs, gave a small wave. “Park Wonbin. Guitar and I sing too.”

“I like the pink,” you commented, then pivoted on your heel. “Okay, I’ll show you your green room.”

“So what do you think?” Yangyang asked you as he fiddled with his equipment, and you helped him go over his checklists.

“I think it sounds fine,” you replied, checking that step off.

“I meant about the new weekly.”

“Oh, they seem fine,” you shrugged. “You worked the night they were here last time, right? What did you think?”

“Their sound’s good.”

“And Kun obviously liked them.”

“Do you think they’ll be a pain to work with?”

“Hm?” You thought on your sparse interactions with the members of Roses for Eyes, the introductions, and then Shotaro had asked you where the restroom was. “No, I think they’ll be fine. I don’t know, Yang, it hasn’t even been their first day. There’s time yet for them to turn into assholes.”

Footsteps approaching made you glance over your shoulder. It was the drummer… Sungchan, you were pretty sure. He seemed to be heading straight for you, and you looked at him with your eyebrows raised.

“Do you need something?” You asked him expectantly, listening to Yangyang call out that the next step was clear.

“Not me, but yes,” he answered sheepishly.

You held his eye contact, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s Taro,” the drummer continued. “He’s good, I just wanted to give you a heads-up that he kind of uhm, loses things a lot? Especially his in-ears.”

“Has he lost them already?” You checked your watch. “Your soundcheck is in five minutes.”

“Yeah…”

You sighed and held the clipboard out towards Yangyang, “You got this?”

He saluted you, “Yes, ma’am.”

You turned back to Sungchan, “Where’s the last place he saw them?”

“I told Sungchan not to tell you, I’m sorry,” Shotaro apologized as the two of you retraced his steps starting from the van they had arrived in.

“I told you guys—If you need anything, let me know,” you grunted, climbing over a spare amp in the back to look under the seats.

“This is just so embarrassing,” he complained, rifling through the glovebox.

“Hey, it’s your first performance as our new weekly, it’d be weirder if it went over perfectly.”

“I meant you having to search through our nasty van with me for them. Just being a few minutes late to soundcheck, I could deal.”

“It’s fine, Shotaro, I’ve done worse, promise.”

His big eyes peered at you inquisitively over the headrests of the front seats. “Like what?”

“I think we’ve scoured every inch of the inside of this thing,” you declared, wiping sweat off your brow with the hem of your shirt. “Have you checked under it?”

Shotaro was still staring at you.

“I’ll look.” You sighed and hopped out of the back of the van.

“No, I’ve got it!” He suddenly scrambled into action, dropping to his hands and knees on the gravel next to the vehicle to scour the ground underneath it.

You, meanwhile, kept your eyes peeled for the immediate vicinity of the parking lot around it. Finally, off in the direction towards the building next door, something caught your eye. You wandered over, picking up a square, black case. Flipping it open, sure enough, there was a pair of in-ears, one bright green and the other bright purple.

Walking back over to the van, you stopped next to the guitarist, who was still looking under it. “Shotaro.”

“Huh?” Thunk. “Fuck!”

“Watch your head,” you said dryly as he carefully extricated himself from under the van this time. You shook the case at him. “These yours?”

He lit up as soon as he saw the equipment. “Yes! Oh my god! Where were they?”

“Over by the neighbors.” You jerked a thumb at the building.

“Ohhh, right! There was a cat over there that I took a picture of when we got here. Do you want to see it?” He was already digging around in his pocket for his phone.

“No. Focus.”

“Right.” He reached for the case, but you snatched them out of his grasp before he could touch it.

“I don’t think so.”

Shotaro’s face turned endearingly confused. “What?”

“We’re not doing this again,” you declared. “These are mine now. When they are not inside of your ears, they’re mine. You will come get them from me before every performance and return them to me as soon as you get off the stage. If you do not need to take them somewhere else before next week, they’ll stay here with me the whole time. Deal?”

“So, Sungchan mentioned this isn’t the first time I’ve lost them?”

“Uh-huh.”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Deal!”

Roses for Eyes wasn’t half bad, from the bits and pieces that you heard while you were running around doing other stuff. You could easily understand why your manager chose them for the weekly spot. Your regulars seemed to like them, too. They had an infectious energy, kept the crowd engaged, and had good chemistry with each other on stage. After the debacle with Shotaro’s in-ears, the rest of the performance went over relatively smoothly, then you just had an open bar and dance night until midnight to deal with. Easy.

It was Yangyang’s turn to have his playlist hooked up, so you were planning on mingling to get some feedback from your regulars on the new weekly.

“Y/N!” A voice yelled out your name from elsewhere backstage, and you turned around.

It was Shotaro running at you, his guitar slung over his back. You held out your hands both in a gesture for him to slow down, and also to protect yourself in case he crashed into you. He managed to skid to a stop just in time, breathless and with a wild smile.

He held his hand out towards you, something crumpled up in his fist. “Here!”

You opened up your palm, letting him drop two familiar neon objects into it. His in-ears. “Ah, right. Thank you for remembering.”

Taking out the case that you still had in your pocket, you tucked them away, snapping it shut again. “You’re sure you won’t need these again before next week?”

“No, we don’t have anything planned.”

“Well, if anything comes up, I’m here most days. I’ll keep them in the office, so if I’m not here, you can get them from Kun or someone else with a key.”

“So what uh, what did you think?” His teeth played with his lip ring nervously.

“About what?” You checked the time on your phone.

“You know, our set?”

“God, I told Yang during soundcheck that Wonbin’s mic should’ve been turned up, but he didn’t listen to me, so we could barely hear him. But we’ll fix that next week. Is the guy always so quiet?”

“Yeah, yeah, he is.” Shotaro was still looking at you expectantly.

“Did you need something else, Shotaro?” You asked. “I was going to go talk to some people.”

“No, uhm, sorry for keeping you.”

“It’s fine.” You patted his shoulder. “And hey, we’re open until midnight tonight. You guys are welcome to stay and hang out. Staff gets half off at the bar, that includes you.”

He nodded and flashed you another smile. “Cool, thanks, Y/N.”

The next week, you were in the back office when there was a knock on the slightly ajar door, and a familiar head poked in.

“Hi.” Shotaro beamed at you. “Kunhang said you were in here.”

“Hi, Shotaro.” You minimized the window that had been up on your screen as he wandered around to your side.

“What are you doing?”

“Payroll. Which you can’t see,” you informed him, opening the top right drawer of the desk.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You handed him his in-ear case that you had just retrieved. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He accepted the case, but didn’t leave the office.

“Do you guys need something else?”

“No, uhm, finish your work,” he started towards the door. “But I uhm, is that new? The septum piercing?”

You touched the ring absentmindedly. You’d gotten it done over the weekend, you’d forgotten that it was new by now. “Yeah, it is.”

“I like it. Looks good on you.”

Before you could even say thanks, he had darted from the office.

Done with the payroll, you went out to the main floor, taking down the stools from the few high-tops scattered around the perimeter and setting them up at the tables. Roses for Eyes were just starting their soundcheck, providing background music of the sounds of them tuning their instruments.

“Hey, Y/N,” Eunseok’s voice came over the speakers.

“Yeah?” You called back over your shoulder as you continued setting up.

“So, did you like our set last week? Anything we can do better?”

You swore you heard snickers, but when you turned around, they were all standing at attention. “Everyone generally liked your sound. Good music to dance to. But you need some more variety in your setlist. Have a vibe-shift or two. Show people you can do more. If you can.”

Sungchan laughed as he spun a stick around with his fingers. “Is that a challenge or what?”

You shrugged. “It’s only a challenge if it’s hard.”

They all erupted into incredulous laughter, and you couldn’t help but grin too, glad that they didn’t seem put-off by your comment. You were genuinely trying to give them advice, not put them down. The band returned to their soundcheck, and you went back to your own tasks. You figured they were done when you heard a long stretch of silence as you were doing inventory of your in-house merch behind the merch counter.

“Hi.” It was Shotaro again, peeking at you from over the counter as you squatted down to count the t-shirts stacked up down there.

“Hi, Shotaro.” You held up your hand expectantly, and he deposited his in-ear case onto it. You tucked it into your jacket pocket. “Thank you.”

“Need any help?”

“This isn’t your job,” you pointed out, tapping a few buttons on the tablet balanced on your knees.

“You’re really good at that.”

“Counting shirts?” You snorted. “I’d be a lot better if I wasn’t talking while I did it.”

He chuckled. “I meant not answering the question you’re asked.”

You looked up from the shirts at him. “Hmph.”

“Did you hate our set that much?”

“Why does it matter what I thought?” You asked him frankly.

“You’re still doing it.”

You took a closer look at what he was wearing today, a neon pink longsleeve under his black t-shirt. “Your shirt matches Wonbin’s hair. Cute.”

He looked down at his sleeves, pulling them over his hands. “Ah, yeah, I guess. Do you like it? I—Hey, wait a minute!”

You laughed to yourself as you stood back up. “If you really want me to answer your question… No, I don’t need any help. I’m done now. Thanks, though.”

After Roses for Eyes’ set, Shotaro didn’t even have to find you, you were waiting just off-stage. He couldn’t hide his surprise, eyes going wide. “Oh, Y/N! Hey!”

“Hi.” You held out your hand expectantly, the case already open atop it.

He stuffed the in-ears back into it. “Thanks.”

“Thank you.” You snapped it shut and pocketed it. “And good set. I’m glad I got to actually see it this time.”

His face lit up. “Wait you—Is that why—? Thanks! You really—?”

“Hey, Taro, come on, we got places to be,” Sungchan grabbed his arm. “You got your in-ears?”

You arched an eyebrow, taking the case back out from your pocket. “You need these?”

Sungchan shook his head as Shotaro took it back from you. “Thanks…”

“Don’t lose them before next week,” you warned.

“I won’t.” He beamed.

The next day, you were at the venue early putting up some new decorations when you swore you heard the back door open.

“Ten?” You yelled out. “That you?”

“No!” An entirely different voice called back, right as the owner had descended the stairs into your view, propping his silver sunglasses up on his dalmatian hair.

“Shotaro.” You tilted your head at him curiously. “Pretty sure I haven’t been here that long. It’s not Thursday yet.”

“Not quite.” He grinned as he set a familiar case on the counter that you were currently standing on to reach the ceiling. “I didn’t lose them.”

“I’m very proud of you.” You pointed in the direction of the back. “Office is unlocked, you can put them on the desk before you head out.”

“What are you doing?”

“Decorating. We’re doing a Y’allternative Night tonight.” You held up the paper cowboy boots that you were prepared to hang up. “It’s all deejayed, no live music or we would’ve offered you guys a slot, sorry.”

“Can I help?”

“You really want to help me decorate?”

“Yeah.”

You sighed, looking down at the stack of decorations on the counter, and the others haphazardly strewn on the stage. “Ten was supposed to help but he hasn’t shown…”

“Is that a yes?” He asked hopefully.

“I can’t pay you for this,” you warned.

“That’s fine!”

“Put your in-ears away first.”

“On it!” He grabbed them off the counter and dashed away.

“So how long have you been working here?” Shotaro asked you as the two of you worked to decorate the venue.

“Few years.” You handed him the next cutout. “Mm, to the right. Yeah, good, higher. There.”

Shotaro was easy to work with, attentive, loved even the smallest bit of praise, and followed directions incredibly well. Kinda like training a dog, you figured. Though, you’d never had a dog.

“How long have you been with your band?” You asked.

“Oh, I’ve known Sungchan since I was like, seven,” he explained, scooting with you along the counter. “I used to be taller than him, you know.”

You snorted at that, genuinely trying to picture little Sungchan and Shotaro, the latter just a smidge taller.

Shotaro was grinning as he continued, “We spent like every day after school in middle school playing Rock Band. Begged our parents for real instruments for Christmas in high school. Then Sungchan met Eunseok in gym class, and I met Wonbin in art. So I guess it’s been… almost ten years? At least since we took over Eunseok’s garage after school for our first band practice.”

“That’s cool,” you replied genuinely, handing him the last decoration. “I like hearing that sort of stuff from the acts that come through here. Everyone’s got such unique stories.”

“Uhm—” He cleared his throat. “Is this good? For the-the thing?”

You looked at where he was holding the paper lasso. “Ehh… Turn it to the left a little? …Perfect, tape it.”

Shotaro hopped down from the counter and the two of you stepped back to admire your handiwork.

“Not bad.” You held your hand up for a high-five, which he eagerly accepted. “Thanks, Shotaro.”

The back door was thrown open then, Ten yelling into the venue, “I’m here!”

“Finally,” you scoffed.

“Sorry, sorry, I had to take Louis to the doctor,” your coworker rambled, obviously flustered as he rushed in. “Stupid asshole ate my charging cable.”

“His cat,” you informed Shotaro quietly, taking in the guitarist’s concerned look. Turning back to Ten, you asked, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, one super expensive vet trip later, he’s fine, of course.” Ten seemed to notice Shotaro then. “Oh, hey, Taro. Are you guys performing tonight?”

“He was just dropping off some equipment and was nice enough to help me with the decorations,” you explained. “Speaking of—You remembered to pick them up on your way in, right?”

He pointed over his shoulder to the back entrance. “Yes, they’re in my car, will you help me with them?”

“I think we’ve got it from here, Shotaro, thanks again—”

“Uhm, do you remember how long it took last time?” Ten interrupted you pointedly.

You sighed ruefully, recalling very well. Clasping your hands together in front of you, you turned to the frontman, “If you’re not busy, would you mind helping us fill hundreds of balloons and also assemble a few cardboard cutouts? Please?”

Only one person could operate the balloon inflating machine at a time. One person would fill them with helium, then hand them off to another to tie them and release them to float up to the ceiling. Getting them back down would be hell. The third person was wrangling the custom-ordered cardboard cutouts out of the packaging and assembling them. That person was of course you. You had lost the rock-paper-scissors, and never had it in you to just pull rank when it came to this kind of stuff.

“What the hell?” You muttered, trying to cut the package open for the third time, barely crinkling the tape instead. Yanking on it, you cursed, “I swear this fucking tape is made of fucking Kevlar! What the fuck?!”

“Let me try?” Shotaro offered, abandoning his post tying balloons to join you. You huffed and let him gently take the box cutter from your hand, moving over to grant him access to the end of the box that you were struggling with.

“It’s probably that box cutter! Blade’s too dull!” Ten called out as he continued filling and tying balloons. “I think it’s older than Kun!”

Shotaro had just tried to slice upwards along the tape, but as soon as the box cutter hit resistance, it stopped, and his hand recoiled with the force. His fingers flew back down along the blade, and he dropped both it and the box immediately, letting out a long string of curses.

As soon as you saw the red welling up on his finger, you yelled out to Ten, “First aid kit!”

“Shit! Oh my god, you’re going to get fucking tetanus or something and die. Or lose your hand!” You panicked, latching onto Shotaro’s elbow. You dragged him into the nearest bathroom—the women’s room—and started running water in the sink. You yanked up his hoodie sleeves then yours, sticking both his hands under the stream. They were both bloody messes at this point.

Shotaro lit up as he looked at your inked forearms. “Cool tattoos, what—”

“So not the fucking time for a tattoo tour?!” You gestured to his own hands incredulously.

Ten brought the first aid kit in, and the women’s room that only had two stalls anyway was starting to feel cramped now.

“Go see if there’s any blood on the floor or something,” you shooed him out probably too harshly.

With him gone, you focused on washing and drying Shotaro’s uninjured hand before taking a look at the other. Only one of his fingers was cut, thankfully, but you knew the state that box cutter was in—old, rusty, and had probably never been cleaned once.

“I’ll be fine.” Shotaro was surprisingly calm as he watched you.

“You know there’s no cure for tetanus, right? Fuck, Kun’s going to kill me if our weekly can’t perform because I gave the frontman tetanus and he died.” You stressed.

“Oh, I thought you were just worried for me,” his voice was teasing, and if you hadn’t watched him injure himself and flinch in pain with your own two eyes, you would’ve wondered if he had any pain receptors, as he didn’t seem to be bothered whatsoever by you squirting soap onto the cut in that moment.

“Yeah, that too.”

“As an afterthought,” he snickered.

You pushed the shoulder of his uninjured hand. “Shut up and clean your cut.”

“Really, I’m touched.” He was still smirking as he obliged, gingerly running the tip of his thumb over the area to work the soap around the cut, the water finally running clear. You turned the sink off then grabbed paper towels and his hand, starting to dry the cut off. “Will it make you feel better if I tell you I’m upped on my tetanus booster?”

“Are you?”

He shrugged.

“Then no, that does not make me feel better,” you scoffed, inspecting the wound now that it was dry. On the bright side, the box cutter being as old and dull as it was meant that the cut wasn’t very deep. The bleeding had already stopped. As you went to grab the band-aids from the first-aid kit, you realized Shotaro was still watching you, this time with a funny smile on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re always so… cool. In like this unreachable, detached way. Is it bad to say I’m kind of enjoying seeing you like this too?”

“Panicking and pissed off that you’re not taking tetanus serious enough?” You shot him an unamused look, ripping open a band-aid. “Yes, I’d say that’s a strange thing to enjoy.”

“Strange,” he repeated happily. “Not bad.”

“I suppose that is what I said.” You wrapped the band-aid around the cut. “There. All better. Unless you get tetanus and die.”

“I pinky promise I won’t get tetanus and die.” He held the pinky finger of his injured hand out to you.

You eyed his hand. “I super don’t think that’s how this works.”

Shotaro shook it more insistently. You sighed, linking your pinky with his. “If you get tetanus and die, I’m going to kill you.”

“I super don’t think that’s how that works.”

Thursday rolled around, and you were actually grateful when a spotted head of hair poked into the back office that evening.

“I’m alive!” Shotaro announced cheerily.

“So you are.” You smiled, taking out his in-ears from the desk drawer, as well as the brand-new bag of Sour Patch Kids you had tucked in there. “For you. I can’t pay you with money for helping out, but I really do appreciate it, Shotaro. And I’m sorry that you got injured helping me, too. If Sour Patch aren’t your thing, let me know what you do like and I’ll pick some up for you next week.”

Anybody else would’ve thought you’d just given him a handmade sweater the way he clutched the bag of candy to his chest and looked at you with big eyes. “These are my favorites! How—Did Sungchan tell you or something?”

“Took a wild guess.” You finished up the online order you were placing for restocking your in-house merch. “Also, do you guys have merch?”

“Huh?” Shotaro was looking right at you, but clearly hadn’t heard a word you’d said.

“Merch. Shirts, CDs, stuff for people to buy. Do you guys have any? We can keep it in stock here.”

He blinked, finally processing your question. “We sold out of all our shirts on tour… and we were talking about getting new designs the next time we got some made anyway. We’ve only got a few CDs left now. So… no…”

You clicked your tongue, logging out of the computer and standing up. “Well, whenever you get to it, we can keep them stocked here for you guys. Oh, and I know a few good artists who do that kind of stuff, if you’re looking for someone.”

As you talked, you had started ushering Shotaro out of the office, shutting the door behind you. He stopped in the narrow hallway outside it, made even more cramped by the cardboard boxes of miscellaneous props, merch, and decorations stored back here because you had run out of room in your actual storage closet. He was so close you were certain you could accurately count the piercings on his ears and face if you were patient enough. You tried to take a step back, only to hit your head on the office door that you had just closed.

“Fuck!” You hissed under your breath, clutching your head. “Shotaro, you mind? Don’t you have a soundcheck to do or something?”

“Sorry! Are you okay?” He winced sympathetically, still not moving away, if anything, getting closer as he tried to check on you. “That didn’t sound good—”

“I’m fine!” You insisted. “Soundcheck! Go do it!”

“Right!” He gave you a thumbs-up, then shook his giant bag of candy. “Thank you again!”

After he had sprinted away, you let out a relieved groan, leaning back against the door and looking up at the water-stained ceiling.

“Is that sanitary?” Eunseok’s voice announced Roses for Eyes’ arrival that particular afternoon, as you sat atop the bar counter, scrolling on your phone in one of your few moments of peace and quiet around Venue:Hell.

“Kiss my ass, Eunseok,” you replied without even looking up.

“Yeah, I’ll get in line,” he retorted, making Sungchan and Wonbin laugh.

That finally prompted you to slide your gaze up, just in time to see the three of them laughing over by the stage as Shotaro flipped them all off over his shoulder, making his way towards you. He had two cups in one hand, one with a bright green straw in it, and the other without a straw, and you saw that the other three band members each had a plastic cup with a straw sticking out of them as well. You silently watched Shotaro approach, raising an eyebrow at him once he’d stopped in front of you.

“We were getting boba on our way here, and thought we’d grab you one, too.” His cheeks were a bright pink as he held the unopened cup out to you, and fished a packaged purple straw out from the front pocket of his black jean jacket.

“Who’s this ‘we’ that you’re talking about?” You asked humorously. “They all apparently think getting me boba is kissing my ass.”

Shotaro straightened up, puffing his chest out. “Actually, yeah. Fuck ‘em. I got you one because I thought it’d be nice to get you one too since you do so much for us every week. It’s uh-It’s honey milk tea, because I didn’t know what flavor you liked.”

“Thank you, Shotaro.” You accepted the cup and straw from him graciously, to a chorus of snickers from the spectators on the other side of the floor. “Honey milk tea is more than acceptable.”

“But it’s not your favorite?”

“I don’t have a favorite.” You set the cup on the bartop beside you to stab the straw into it.

“You—Hey, are those mine?” He seemed to have finally noticed the sunglasses perched atop your head.

“What? These?” You teased, tapping the plastic accessory arm on one side of your head.

“I was looking for those today!”

You took them off, offering them out towards him. “You left them here last week.”

Shotaro took the glasses just to turn them right back around, take a step closer to you, and place them back on your head, a fond smile on his face as he did so. “I think you look better in them, actually. You can hold onto them for a little longer.”

You swallowed, your chest suddenly feeling too tight for your heart, and six eyes suddenly feeling like way too many to be in the room with you two right now. You chuckled, trying to keep up the congenial tone as you once more pulled them off. This time, you folded the arms and tucked the sunglasses into Shotaro’s jacket pocket for him. “Thanks, Shotaro, but I can’t take your sunglasses. They’re really rockstar sunglasses anyway, not for someone like me.”

At that moment, you grabbed your boba tea and hopped off the bar, scooting out from between him and the counter. You avoided looking at the others, beelining for the back office.

When Shotaro had to come get his in-ears from you just a few minutes later, you gave him the same pleasant smile as usual, handing him the case. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He tapped the case against his palm, the sound dampened by the fingerless gloves he was wearing that day. “What did you mean? When you said someone like you.”

“Wh—About the sunglasses?” You’d hardly expected him to confront you about that comment at all, much less alone now, just you and him in the office, no peanut gallery. While six eyes had felt like too many, this felt far too intimate. You somehow felt more exposed than before. “Like I said—They’re cool rockstar sunglasses, that’s what you are. You should wear them you know, up on stage, being all cool and stuff. I’m crew; no point in me wearing them while I’m sitting back here where nobody can see them.”

He frowned, but thankfully didn’t try to give them to you again. “I think you’re cool, Y/N.”

With that, he left the office.

“Hey—Woah.” Yangyang stopped midsentence, blinking at you from the office doorway.

“You’re losing your ears, puppy,” you snickered.

“I’m not a—!” He whined, catching the wolf ears that were sliding off his head just in time. “I’m a werewolf!”

“Sure,” you snorted, spinning your desk chair around to face him. “So what did you need, Yang?”

“Ten has a question about how we should set up the line out front.”

“Alright.” You stood up, smoothing out your long black dress. Today was Venue:Hell’s Halloween event, Hallowfreaks, so the whole staff was dressed up. You didn’t have time to think about a costume this time, so you just took out your Morticia Addams costume from last year.

Meeting Ten out front, you couldn’t even compliment his own “werewolf” costume, as he immediately tilted his head with interest upon seeing yours. You looked down at your dress, wondering if you had somehow spilled something on it unknowingly.

He didn’t leave you in the dark long, though. “You did a matching costume with Taro?”

“What?”

“Shotaro.”

The singer whipped around at the sound of his name. And there was no doubt as to who he was dressed as: His spotted blonde and black hair was slicked back and it looked like he had even used some kind of spray to make it fully black, he had donned a pinstriped suit and dress shoes, and drawn on a mustache to finish off the Gomez Addams look.

The initial recognition at his name being called turned to excitement as he realized what your costume was as well.

“Wait, seriously?!” He laughed, jumping up and down with elation. “That’s awesome!”

“I thought you guys would’ve done a group costume or something.” You crossed your arms.

“We were thinking about it, but Sungchan wanted to do a couple’s costume with his girlfriend. We thought it would look weird onstage if the three of us had a group costume without him, so we just all did our own thing.”

“Sensible.”

“C’mere, we’ve got to show them!” He grabbed your arm, and you let him drag you elsewhere backstage, into the green room where his other three band members were waiting around before their soundcheck. “Guys!”

“What’s this?” Eunseok grinned, pointing between the two of you.

“Taro, you didn’t mention you were doing a couple’s costume with Y/N,” Sungchan teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Not planned, you little shits.”

“Kinda weird that it happened, though,” Wonbin pointed out through a yawn. “Like, you know? What does it mean?”

“It means I was too lazy to buy a new costume and wore my one from last year, and Shotaro… I don’t know, something.”

“I like the movies,” he added quietly.

“He likes the movies!” You repeated triumphantly.

But the others were long gone, laughing and joking among themselves. Shaking your head, you turned back to Shotaro. “I’ll grab your in-ears.”

“I’ll come with.”

The venue was buzzing with excitement for the holiday, but the back office was quiet as always. You passed Kun in the hallway, giving him a quick nod as he rushed off to do something.

“Your in-ears,” you handed him the case, and a small bag of candy, “and Happy Halloween.”

“Sour Patch Kids!” His face lit up.

“Some place on my way to work was handing them out to people walking by. They’re not my favorite, so I figured I’d give it to you.”

“You don’t like them?” He questioned, ripping open the small package.

“They’re fine.” You shrugged, leaning back against the desk. “But you love them.”

He smiled as he grabbed a gummy. “Thanks.”

“This is Roses for Eyes’ first special event here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.” He confirmed. “Sungchan’s really excited.”

“Why’s that? He really like Halloween or something?”

“This is the first performance since we’ve had this gig that his girlfriend is going to be here for,” Shotaro explained. “She’s been on the road for the past two months.”

“She’s in the industry too?”

“Yeah, she does tour management.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your voice as neutral as possible. “Good for them.”

“Yeah…” Shotaro looked at you carefully. “But why’d you say it like that?”

Not neutral enough, apparently. You purposefully avoided meeting his gaze. “Like what?”

“Like… I don’t know. Like you had another opinion.”

“I meant it. Good for them.” You hoped at least that much came across as genuine. “I’ve been around the scene for long enough to see plenty of relationships like that end badly. Especially ones between talent and crew.”

His big eyes watched you carefully as he chewed, swallowed, and cautiously asked, “Personal experience?”

“What did I just say? I’ve seen it. Not had it happen to me,” you replied firmly. Pointing to the door, you said, “Now go do your soundcheck, Shotaro.”

You were waiting backstage for Roses for Eyes after their set. The stage was being prepared for the next live act, and the band was still energetic.

“Good job, guys,” you congratulated them as Shotaro handed over his in-ears.

“Thanks.” Sungchan patted your head as he hurried by, apparently with somewhere to be.

“He’s got to find his girlfriend,” Eunseok informed you, wiping his face with his shirt, and taking half his No Face facepaint off in the process.

You narrowed your eyes at Shotaro. “Missing something?”

“I gave you them!” He defended himself.

“Your guitar.”

He patted his front and back, eyes going wide. “Shit!”

Wonbin and Eunseok burst into laughter as Shotaro darted back onto stage, apologizing to the staff and band still setting up. The other two wandered off, presumably to put their own equipment away. Shotaro snatched his guitar from the stand and ran back over to you, panting as he tried to catch his breath.

“Okay, that’s the first time that’s ever happened,” he promised.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“I saw you in the back, during some of the set,” he was absolutely beaming at you.

“Yeah, with Kun here tonight, I can actually get some breathing room. I was able to stop and watch a bit.” You patted his arm. “Like I said, good job, mon cher.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling down at his feet. “Thanks, cara mia.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth as you did.

“What? What’s so funny?” He asked with a chuckle.

“It is pretty funny that we accidentally did two halves of a matching costume. Everyone had a right to be weirded out.”

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “Weird coincidence, right?”

“Anyway, you should put your guitar away before you lose it again and I have to confiscate that as well, okay?”

“Okay, okay.”

“I’m going to put your in-ears in the office. If you guys don’t have anything better to do, Hallowfreaks is going on until 2 a.m.”

“Don’t tell me you’re working that whole time?” He asked in disbelief.

“Where else would I be?”

Winter rolled around, and you were once again crouched behind the merch counter doing inventory. Seasons change, but the pain of doing inventory never does.

“Nah, it’ll be Taro,” Yangyang insisted.

“I think it’ll be Sungchan trying to embarrass Taro,” Kunhang replied.

“Mm, could be Eunseok trying to piss Y/N off while simultaneously embarrassing Taro,” Ten gave his input on whatever the hell they were talking about near Yangyang’s sound equipment.

You poked your head above the merch counter now that you’d heard your own name. “Hey! What are you guys talking about?”

Three heads peeked around the black curtains. Ten answered your question, “We’re betting on which one of them will say something first when they get here today.”

“And none of you said Wonbin because he’ll probably be half-asleep anyway,” you guessed.

“Yep!” Kunhang nodded.

You just sighed loudly and went back to your task. A few minutes later, the back door opened, followed by the overlapping voices of Sungchan and Shotaro in a quiet but heated argument about… something indistinguishable to you. It was ended by an alarmingly loud smacking sound followed by dead silence, which prompted you to peer over the counter, a little concerned. The guys would playfight or bicker sometimes, but it always devolved into laughter.

The four of them were silent, but the angry tension was choking. You tried to quickly duck your head back down, hoping nobody saw you. But of course Shotaro did. It was only a few minutes later, after they put all their stuff down in the green room, that Shotaro was leaning over the merch counter on his elbows to talk to you.

“Hi, Y/N.” He offered you a smile, but you noticed it seemed a little strained this time.

“Hey, Shotaro,” you greeted him, not addressing the band’s entrance. Having just finished up with inventory, you stood up, groaning with relief.

The singer’s smile turned genuine then. “You’re wearing our merch.”

You looked down at the front of the hoodie you were wearing. “Oh, yeah. Don’t worry, I paid for it.”

“I wasn’t worried about that.” His eyes shined as he looked at you. “I’m—I didn’t think you’d…”

“I’ve gotta rep the home team, right?” You gestured to the building around you. “It’s super comfy, too. Come on, let’s get your in-ears.”

In the office, you grabbed the case from the desk, watching Shotaro fuss with his lipring with his front teeth, bouncing from his heels to his toes.

“Look,” you sighed. “You don’t have to tell me what it’s about… but is everything okay with you guys?”

He pulled at his fingerless gloves. “You didn’t hear what Sungchan was saying?”

“No, nothing.”

“We’ll be okay,” he reassured you. “We’ve had worse fights. I mean, not since I was like, twelve, but it’ll be fine.”

You let your uncertainty be visible on your face. “Alright, you know him better than I do. Like I always say, if you need something, let me know.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate that you’re concerned about us.” Shotaro held a hand out for his in-ears, and you placed them in his waiting palm.

A little while later, you went out to start setting up the stools to find Shotaro alone on stage tuning his guitar. You went about your business as he seemed absorbed in his own task.

“I looked it up,” Shotaro called out to you before he played a chord, then adjusted one of the tuning pegs. “There’s no cure for tetanus.”

You looked at him over your shoulder, pulling a stool down from the high-top. “I know.”

Another chord. “I know you know.” More tuning. “You said that when I cut myself with the box cutter.”

“And…?”

“How did you know that?”

“My sister’s a doctor,” you answered simply, continuing to set up the furniture.

The guitarist stopped completely, staring at you. “Wait, really?”

“Why do you look so surprised?” You chuckled, leaning against one of the tables. “Can’t believe I’m related to a doctor and work in this place?”

“No, not that.” He shook his head as if trying to shake himself out of a stupor. “You just never tell me about that kind of stuff.”

“We both lived at home when she was in med school. I helped her with flashcards and stuff when she’d study.” You shrugged and went back to setting up. “Random stuff stuck.”

The other members of Roses for Eyes came out on stage then, cutting the conversation short as they started their soundcheck.

Poking your head into the band’s green room that particular evening, you were surprised to only find one member. Sure, a couple might be out on a food run, or wandering around the venue distracting your staff, but more often than not they were all in here between soundcheck and their set.

Regardless, you really only needed one of them at the moment. “Shotaro.”

“Yes!” He immediately shot up from where he had been sprawled out on the tiny couch, facing away from the door. His dalmatian hair had finally faded, and he was now completely platinum blonde with a shorter, spikier cut.

You quickly shot your boss a text back as you also flicked through the upcoming events spreadsheet for the venue. Not even looking up from your phone, you asked, “Got Valentine’s Day plans?”

Something collided with the edge of the table as Shotaro fell off the couch at that exact moment. You glimpsed the tail end of him scrambling to his feet, rushing to answer you, “No! Not at all! Uhm, what were you—”

“We’re putting on an Anti-Romantics Event for singles that night,” you explained, reviewing the details for the event on your screen. “Mix of live stuff and deejayed. Some games, raffles, that kind of stuff too. The headliner slot is yours if you guys want it.”

Shotaro nodded fervently. “Yeah! We can do it!”

You raised an eyebrow, looking around the empty room pointedly. “You’re not going to ask the other guys? I figured at least Sungchan might be doing something, you know…”

“Right. I’ll uhm, I’ll double-check with them.”

“I’ll pencil you guys in. Just let me know as soon as possible, okay?”

“Y/N?” Shotaro’s voice echoed as he yelled your name from the main room, obviously just wandering around shouting for you. Tonight was Venue:Hell’s Anti-Romantics Event, and Roses for Eyes had ended up accepting the headliner spot. Apparently, Sungchan’s girlfriend was really chill.

“In here!” You yelled back from inside the women’s bathroom, hunched in front of the mirror with an eyeliner pen and pile of used makeup remover wipes.

“Shit, sorry! I mean, uh—Never mind!”

“I’m doing my make-up,” you snorted. “You can come in.”

The swinging door opened hesitantly, and as soon as he was able to see that you were telling the truth, Shotaro entered fully. You wiped off your latest fail with a groan, grabbing all of the used wipes and tossing them in the trash.

“What are you doing?” He asked curiously.

“I’m trying to draw a broken heart on my cheek,” you explained. “But I can’t draw on my own face for shit.”

“Can I…?” He reached for the eyeliner. You handed it over, leaning back against the sink. He gently tilted your chin up and away from him to give him better access. You looked off to the side to avoid staring directly at him as he leaned in. “So you didn’t have any Valentine’s plans?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither.”

“I figured.”

He chuckled, his warm breath washing over your cheek. “Ouch.”

You rolled your eyes. “You already told me you didn’t have any plans.”

“Right.”

“I like your necklace.” You picked up the heavy chain from where it was sitting on his chest, several miniature heart lockets hanging from it.

“Thanks,” he murmured. “I think your makeup is nice.”

“I’m a sucker for a theme.”

Shotaro took a step back to look at his handiwork, nodding proudly. “Not half-bad, I think.”

You turned to check on it in the mirror, lighting up when you saw a much more legible broken heart than all the ones you’d attempted. “Oh, that’s so much better! Thank you, Shotaro!”

“You’re welcome.”

Eyeing the rest of his outfit, you were struck with an idea. You grabbed him by the shoulders, spinning the two of you around so his back was to the sink. “Your turn.”

“Hm?” He watched you with interest as you took the eyeliner pen from him and tossed it into your makeup bag, rooting around in there for something else. Finally, you secured a compact of blush and brush, holding them up eagerly.

“Trust me?” You requested.

He smiled fondly, relaxing back against the sink. “Go for it.”

You dusted the bright-colored blush across his cheeks and nose, focusing the majority of it in the center. When you were done, you had a victorious grin on your face. He now looked like a perfect little pop punk Cupid. The rest of his outfit was his usual mishmash of black and bright neon colors—this time solely hot pink—accessorized with more black, spikes, and metal chains. The blush was just the icing on the cake, especially when you saw that he had put a teeny, tiny silver heart stud in his nose piercing.

“Perfect,” you announced with finality, putting the makeup away.

Shotaro blinked his eyes open uncertainly, and you gestured for him to look in the mirror. He laughed, nodding his approval. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought you were doing.”

“Let me know how many numbers you leave with at the end of the night,” you quipped.

“What?” All the humor was drained from his features as he looked from the mirror over to you.

“Uhm, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re the frontman of the headlining act at an event for singles on Valentine’s Day, and I just made you look ten times more edible than usual.” You patted him on the shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

“I don’t want anybody’s number.”

You were slightly alarmed at the rate that this conversation had taken a nosedive, quickly trying to gloss over the tense moment. “Of course. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“You really think I’m edible?” He asked with a knowing smirk.

“Mm, I guess I did say something like that,” you answered noncommittally, grabbing your makeup bag. “I’ll go get your in-ears for you.”

“I’m not them.” Shotaro’s biting words stopped you in your tracks before you could even grab the door handle.

“What?”

He was still leaning back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest as he held your confused gaze. “Whoever you’re comparing me to in your head. Whoever you think I’m going to end up being exactly like. I’m not them.”

“Shotaro…” You breathed out his name, unable to think of a quick deflection this time, hoping he would just let it go.

“You’re not stupid, Y/N. I know you’re not.” He stood up, stepping closer to you. “You always stop yourself right before… I’m sure you think you’re not leading me on or whatever, but I know you know how stupidly head over heels I am for you, because I don’t try to hide it.”

You winced, your stomach dropping to the floor. So he really did want to have this conversation. “I’m sorry. I should’ve said something. I thought… I don’t know, that I needed better words before I said anything. But saying something would’ve been better than doing this to you. I’m so sorry, Shotaro.”

“Tell me. Whatever words you do have, even if you think they’re bad,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“Because I still want to know everything about you, even if it’s the reasons you’re rejecting me,” he chuckled cynically, his eyes still shining as he looked at you.

You sank your teeth into your bottom lip as you tried to think of where to start. You knew you owed Shotaro this much, at least. Finally, you decided on, “I dated the lead singer of a band a few years ago, when I started here. I was young and stupidly in love with him and really believed him when he told me I was special. He was cheating on me the whole time.” You watched Shotaro’s eyes go big. “Every time he went on tour, even at concerts here. I think the worst part wasn’t even how many times he cheated on me, but how many times I caught him doing it and believed him when he said it meant nothing and he’d never do it again.”

“Y/N—”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Shotaro. Really,” you reassured him. “I-I don’t know if I can trust myself to not… realize when something like that is happening again. To not realize when I’ve lost myself like that. I’m sorry.”

You rushed out of the bathroom then, unable to bring yourself to hear what he said next, whatever surely sweet, reassuring, reasonable thing he would say. You couldn’t hear it, not now. You were stuck, and now you’d gotten Shotaro stuck too.

Grabbing the in-ears from your office, you were glad to almost immediately catch Kunhang in the hallway. “Hey, give these to Shotaro for me.”

He thankfully didn’t question it, and you set off to keep yourself even busier than usual. Which wouldn’t be hard, as Kun wasn’t in that night, meaning that you were overseeing the whole event on your own. You didn’t even see Shotaro again until he was on stage performing with the rest of Roses for Eyes. You were helping out behind the merch table, as the limited-edition event merch you’d gotten was apparently very popular and the bunching up of people around the counter was clogging up the small area.

“They’re killing it tonight,” Ten commented loudly to be heard over the crowd and the music, nodding towards the stage.

“Yeah,” you agreed mildly, watching the performance out of the corner of your eye as you straightened up the stock.

“They’ve been doing really well with the weekly slot, too.”

“Mhm.”

“I heard they’re planning a mini-tour in the summer, though.”

“Cool.”

“Taro mentioned anything to you about that?”

You flashed him a sharp look. “Why would he have told me anything?”

“Because you’re their contact for the slot here?” He gave you a bewildered look back. “They’d have to tell you so you could tell Kun and find someone to fill the slot while they’re gone?”

“Right. Yeah. No, nobody’s said anything to me.”

“And also, he’s got a huge crush on you.”

“God, shut up,” you groaned.

“What? It’s adorable to watch him follow you around like a lost puppy,” your coworker snickered. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?”

“I’m telling you to shut up about it.”

“Come on, taking the theme a little too literally, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes, opting to not engage with the conversation at all since he apparently wasn’t going to move on. The presence of the headliner on stage was finally drawing some of the crowd away from the merch line.

Giving Ten an unsympathetic smile, you started backing away from the counter, “Alright, I think you’ve got it from here.”

Ten was still grinning and shaking his head as he let you go without a fight, helping the next person in line. You continued running around the venue, helping with anything that popped up.

As Kunhang was announcing the winners of some of the raffles later in the night, you had eyed trouble at the bar. Sicheng, your bartender, was obviously trying to decline service to an insistent patron while a line of other guests bunched up around the bar.

“Is there a problem here, Sicheng?” You asked, stepping into the situation.

“Oh, Y/N,” he breathed a sigh of relief. “He’s had too many, can you—”

“I’ve got it, you keep serving people,” you reassured him. With his attention on the next people, you turned back to the other man. The guy had clearly had too much to drink, pink-faced and swaying in place. “You’ve had enough, man. How about we get you a water, okay? Or a soda?”

“No, I want another beer!” He insisted.

“No can do, sorry,” you informed him firmly. “Water, soda, or nothing. Alright?”

“Who the fuck are you to tell me no?”

“Manager of the building you’re in right now.”

“Well, manager, tell him to get me another beer.”

“No,” you repeated. “Look, dude, I know tonight can especially suck, but there’s other things to do besides drink. You are cut off. Let’s get you a water, hm?”

“No.”

“Did you come with friends? I can help get you back to them.”

He got up in your face then, and you stepped back, unwittingly jamming the bartop right into your own ribcage. “I said no, bitch.”

“I’m going to ask you to leave if you don’t calm down and get out of my fucking face,” you informed him through gritted teeth. “Come on, dude, don’t make this a bigger deal than it has to be.”

Before he could say anything else, someone grabbed the guy by the shoulder, pulling him away from you. At first you hoped that it was come friends of the guy, finally caught on to what was going on, but your blood turned cold when you saw who it really was.

“Hey, get out of her face,” Shotaro told him, rather calmly, but firmly.

In the next second, the drunk guy had swung, his fist impacting with Shotaro’s face and making his head jerk back. The crowd around you three gasped and backed up, and you felt both anger and panic flood your veins.

“You’re done!” You announced loudly. “Out! Get the fuck out! Sicheng! Call security!”

Your bartender was already on it, his walkie-talkie up by his mouth and his request for back-up coming through your own earpiece very clearly. You watched the venue’s guard who very rarely had to leave his post by the front door lumber up, grabbing the guy by the collar and pulling him through the crowd.

Shotaro was stood in the same spot, slightly hunched over as he held onto the edge of the bar, cradling his cheek. You sighed, grabbing his arm. “Come on.”

He let you guide him away from the crowd, the din of the music fading as you took him into the back office, shutting the door behind you. You gestured to the desk chair for him to sit in, and he obliged. After getting out the small first aid kit that was kept in here, you leaned back against the desk, pulling his hand down from his face to inspect the damage.

“We have security, you know,” you said quietly, cracking a cold pack and massaging it in your hands to get the reaction going.

“Didn’t seem like they were helping you,” he replied.

You grabbed a couple tissues from the dispenser on the desk, pressing them to where blood was welling up from a cut on his cheek. “Because I hadn’t called them.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was handling it.” Tossing the bloodied tissues in the trash, you applied a band-aid to the open wound before holding the cold pack out to him.

He accepted it, looking down at his lap guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

“C’mere.” You stood up and stepped closer to him, reaching for his face with both your hands.

“Hm?” He looked up at you curiously. You turned his head so you could gently press your thumbs against his cheekbone and the area around his eye where he’d been hit. “Ow…”

“Sorry. I don’t think he broke anything. You’ll probably just have some bruising for a while,” you declared softly, pulling his hand that was holding the cold pack up to his cheek. “And a nasty cut from his ugly rings.”

He chuckled a little, and you smiled back. “Learn that from your sister?”

“No, just had to break up a few fights here before.”

“Really?”

“We weren’t always such a classy establishment,” you joked, sitting back down on the edge of the desk in front of him. “We’re called Venue:Hell for a reason, and not just because we’re underground.”

“Here I thought you guys were just trying to be edgy.”

You were still replaying it in your mind, of how quick it happened, from Shotaro grabbing the guy to him getting punched. “You thought that guy was going to hit me or something, right?”

“He was getting up in your face…” He hissed and pulled the cold pack down from his face for a moment, then put it back up, wincing. “Even if he didn’t, he shouldn’t have been yelling at you like that.”

“Occupational hazard,” you shrugged. After a beat, you added sincerely, “Thanks, Shotaro.”

“Why do you call me Shotaro? To keep me at a distance?” He asked, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Everyone calls me Taro, I even told you to call me Taro. But you never have.”

“I’m pretty sure you said that I can call you Taro, not that you wanted me to,” you pointed out. Seeing the distress on his face, though, you said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it meant so much to you.”

“It doesn’t, really. But when it’s you… it hurts. Everything feels like the best thing that’s ever happened to me and the worst at the same time.”

“I…” You trailed off uncertainly. What were you even supposed to say to that?

“Like, I make you laugh and I’m fucking on Cloud Nine. And then I somehow take it too far, or say something that makes you run away and I kind of feel like I’m literally dying.” He slumped back into the desk chair with a sharp laugh, still pressing the cold pack to his face.

“That sounds awful, I’m so—”

“No, stop it. It’s not awful, and I want you to stop apologizing to me.”

“Okay.”

Shotaro sighed, looking down at his free hand as he futzed with his jewelry. “That guy’s rings were pretty ugly.”

You let out a sputtering laugh, happy for some of the tension in your chest to dissolve in that moment. “Yeah, they really were.”

That night, you got home from work in the wee hours of the morning, not even bothering to turn your apartment light on, simply tossing your backpack in the direction of your couch and shuffling towards your bedroom. You got ready for bed on autopilot, exhausted as you always were after work.

Wiping off your makeup in the mirror, you hovered over the broken heart on your cheek, recalling just how fast that conversation had gone downhill, then Shotaro getting punched later in the night. Letting out a deep breath, you finished up in the bathroom and shut that light off. After changing into your pajamas, you lay in bed alone, staring up at your ceiling. Alone. You’d be going back to Venue:Hell in less than ten hours. And after that, you’d come home again. Alone. Then go back to work. Then come home. Then go back. Then come home. Work. Home. Work. Home. Work. Home. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.

The line rang, and rang, and with every ring, your urge to hang up grew. Of fucking course he didn’t want to talk to you—

“Y/N?” Shotaro’s voice was foggy, and it was apparent you’d woken him.

“Taro, hey,” you said quietly, already regretting this. “I woke you up, didn’t I? Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he grumbled, and you heard the sounds of him rolling over and readjusting in bed. “Is everything okay? You’re not still at work, are you?”

“No, no, I’m home.”

“Okay, good.”

“Uhm, I just—” You were cut off by a very loud yawn from him. “Sorry, it’s really late and you’ve got to be tired. We can do this later.”

“No, go ahead. You apparently thought it was important enough to call me at fuck you a.m. in the morning,” he chuckled sleepily. “We can do it now. I won’t interrupt again. Promise.”

You took a deep breath, still staring at the inky dark expanse of your ceiling. “I just was thinking… some more… And I do really like you, and if you still… want to… Do you have plans later?”

You heard something thunk, and a loud clunk right by the mic, making you wince away from your speaker, then the distant sounds of him cursing as he scrambled around.

“Sorry, dropped you,” he apologized, sounding much more awake now. “You mean like, not for work?”

“Yeah, like, hanging out. Not at work,” you confirmed. God, is your heartbeat always this fucking loud?

“Yes, absolutely. Yes! Fuck!” He agreed giddily, and you couldn’t help but grin too.

“Okay, uhm, I have to get the venue set up for a show at seven tonight, but we could do lunch before or something? If that works for you?”

“Totally! Yes!”

“Cool.” You smiled at your screen as you checked the time. “It is way too fucking late. Just text me when you wake up and we can sort everything out then.”

“I will. Absolutely.”

“I’ll talk to you then.”

“Yes.”

“Thanks, Taro. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

After some much-needed sleep, you slowly got up, sitting at the edge of your bed, letting your feet graze the carpet below. You were home now, alone, and later you’d be going to work. But before that, you were going to be doing something else. Going somewhere else with someone else.

Speaking of, your phone rang, an incoming call from Shotaro. You picked it up, still rubbing sleep out of one eye. “Mm?”

“Was it real?” He asked in lieu of a greeting.

“What?” You chuckled. “What are you talking about?”

“Do I need a lobotomy right now, or are we actually going on a date?”

You burst into laughter, holding your phone away from your mouth as your laughter devolved into a coughing fit, blindly grabbing for your water cup from your nightstand. After recovering enough, you finally answered, “Hold off on the lobotomy for now.”

“Oh, it was real,” he let out a sigh of relief. “God, I seriously woke up and couldn’t tell if I had dreamt that whole conversation or not.”

“No, I really did call you at ‘fuck you a.m. in the morning’ last night, sorry.”

He snickered. “I said that?”

“You did.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to call me at fuck you a.m. any night, especially if it’s going to be something that good.” His grin was audible through the phone. “So what time should I pick you up?”

“We haven’t even decided where we’re going?”

“Lunch,” he said confidently. “I’ve got it. You did the hard part, let me do the rest.”

You looked at the time on your phone. “Two hours?”

“Done. Send me your address.”

“Hey—Oh my God,” you cut yourself off laughing, covering your face as soon as you saw Shotaro standing there with a bouquet of flowers. “You seriously—Oh my God.”

“What? What is funny about this?” He held them out to you even more insistently.

You accepted them, still shaking your head. “Nothing. Come in so I can put them in water.”

He obliged, quietly closing your door behind him.

“I just honestly don’t think a man has ever brought me flowers,” you admitted, opening your cabinet to try to find some kind of vessel. “I was caught off-guard. I didn’t mean to laugh in your face, I’m sorry. You’re very sweet, Taro.”

“Seriously?” He watched you bring down an old empty water jug and fill it up from your sink, then plop the flowers in there.

“Seriously.” You paused in front of him, eyes focused on his left cheek, where a bruise had blossomed out far beyond the edges of the bandage you’d applied last night. Frowning, you delicately touched just under his cheekbone. “How is it?”

“I’m fine,” he reassured you, letting you continue to inspect the wound. “Barely even feel it.”

“Liar.”

He beamed. “Maybe.”

“You know that I’m going to be kind of bad at this, right?” You asked in a lull in conversation at lunch, picking at your food with your utensil.

“At… eating?” Shotaro asked in turn, his cheeks full with his own food as he looked at you with wide, confused eyes. “You seem to be doing pretty alright to me.”

“No,” you chuckled and shook your head. “At… this.” You pointed between the two of you. “It’s been a while, and I didn’t have the best experience last time.”

He swallowed and nodded, offering his hand out across the table, palm up. “I know.” Hesitantly, you put your own hand in his, and he squeezed yours gently, a soft smile on his face as he gazed at you. “Like I said, you already did the hard part, that’s why I’m taking care of everything else today. I get how difficult it must be for you to be doing this right now.”

“Thanks.” You squeezed his hand back.

“You really don’t have to do this,” you sighed as you and Shotaro walked down the sidewalks together after lunch.

“What are you talking about? Of course I have to make sure my girlfriend gets to work safe,” he scoffed, elbowing you.

“Hey hey hey!” You smacked his arm. “We’ve been on one date, kinda. What’s with the g-word?”

“‘The g-word,’” he repeated with a snicker. “If it makes you feel better, you can call me the b-word.”

“Bitch?” You blinked at him innocently.

He elbowed you again. “Rude!”

You laughed loudly, clutching your stomach as you had to stop to catch your breath. “Come on, you walked right into that one.”

“Yeah, I did.” He agreed, watching you with a fond smile on his face.

“I’m serious though, you can’t just be throwing words like that around after one kinda-date.”

Shotaro grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers through yours as you kept walking. “And what is the difference between a date and a kinda-date?”

“I don’t know. We were just like… hanging out. You know?” You shrugged. “I don’t know, I told you I was going to be bad at this!”

He laughed. “I brought you flowers, paid for your lunch, we’re holding hands… I’m failing to see how this isn’t date behavior.”

You looked down at your entwined hands, skin heating up. “Point taken.”

You’d made it to Venue:Hell and approached the back door, taking your keys out of your pocket.

“You know what else people do on dates?” He asked slyly, tugging on your hand so you’d turn around and face him. “Kiss goodbye.”

“Talking like I’ve never been on a date ever,” you scoffed, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and pulling him closer. You smiled when you saw his cheeks turn bright pink—no blush necessary this time. Shotaro’s hands landed on your waist as you grabbed the back of his neck and slotted your lips together. The cool metal of his lip ring pressed against your skin, made even colder by the crisp weather outside. He met you beat for beat, never taking over, following your lead until you finally broke apart. The kiss was sweet, reminiscent of the boba tea you’d grabbed after lunch.

“Ah, shit,” he chuckled, hanging his head.

“What?”

“Now I don’t want to go.” He snuck another kiss to your cheek, just grazing the corner of your mouth.

“You’re a menace.” You sighed, in a similar predicament. With warning in your voice, you said, “You can hang out—”

“Yes!” He cheered.

“—until somebody else gets here,” you finished your sentence pointedly, turning around to unlock the door. “Because some people actually work around here, and you’re not performing tonight.”

“Pretty sure you’re the only person who actually does any work around here,” he teased.

“I know, which is why I can’t have you distracting everyone else even more.” You unlocked the door and disabled the alarm, leading Shotaro in by the hand.

“I’m not a distraction!”

“All you’ve been doing for the past six months is distracting me.”

“I help you!”

You clicked your tongue. “And get injured in the process.”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, following you into the office. “It’s the thought that counts?”

“Let me change your band-aid, while you’re here,” you offered, pointing to the desk chair. “You’ve still got the same gross one on from last night.”

Shotaro peeled off the old bandage and tossed it in the trash while you grabbed a new one from the first aid kit.

“I’m going to have to tell Kun,” you said carefully, opening the new band-aid. “About this.”

He stayed still as you applied the new bandage, then asked, “Me getting punched or us going out?”

“Both.” You groaned and rubbed your face. “Ugh, I don’t even know which one I should start with. Don’t say anything until I tell him, please.”

“I will not tell anybody else until you talk to Kun,” he promised, the phrasing making you narrow your eyes.

“You already told all your bandmates.”

He folded immediately. “Can you blame me? I was excited!”

“The whole building is going to know by soundcheck on Thursday,” you lamented, covering your face.

“I’ll tell the guys I was kidding.”

“They’ll think you’ve lost it.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”

“As much as I appreciate your willingness to have your best friends think you’re an absolute weirdo loser who would lie about something like that,” you patted his shoulders, “I won’t ask you to do that.”

“I appreciate that.”

You heard the distinct clang of the back door closing, and sighed regretfully. “That’s your cue.”

“Fine, fine.” He stood up, pecking your forehead. “Pick you up later?”

“I get off at midnight?”

“So?”

“Don’t be late,” you hummed, grabbing the door handle.

It was Kunhang who had arrived, clearly surprised to see Shotaro there. “Oh, hey Taro. What are you doing here?”

“He forgot something.” You used the most reasonable excuse.

“Maybe we should just start stapling stuff to you, man,” Kunhang laughed.

“Great idea.” You grinned, patting Shotaro’s arm as you continued ushering him towards the door.

In the stairwell, concealed from your coworker’s gaze, he leaned in, whispering right next to your ear. “I did almost forget something, actually.”

You arched an eyebrow at him, and he cupped your cheek, rings cold against your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut on instinct as you let him tilt your chin, connecting your lips. Your blood roared in your ears as you scrunched his t-shirt in your fist.

The back door opened, and you couldn’t reel back quick enough. To your horror, it was Kun standing there, blinking at you as his keys dangled in one hand.

“Excuse me,” he cleared his throat, scooting right between you and Shotaro in the narrow space of the stairway. He looked back, speaking directly to the singer with you, “Nice shiner there, Taro.”

Shotaro touched his bruised cheek on instinct, giving your manager a thumbs-up with his other hand. “Thanks.”

Kun said nothing else, whistling to himself as he walked further into the venue. You looked at Shotaro with wide eyes, practically shoving him out the door as he burst into laughter.

“Goodbye, Taro!” You said loudly over his cackles.

“See you later,” he whispered back, shooting you a wink right before you slammed the door in his face.

As you turned the corner, you were alarmed to see Kunhang peering at you from his station. “What?”

“Since when do you call him ‘Taro’?”

Upon entering the back office, you saw Kun sitting at the desk, working on something on the computer. He held a familiar pair of silver sunglasses out to you without even taking his eyes off the screen. “I think Taro left these here.”

“Yeah, those are his,” you confirmed, accepting the frames from him. “Uhm, a patron at the event last night had too much to drink, and ended up punching him, by the way.”

Kun looked over at you at that information, lifting both his eyebrows in disbelief. “Taro got into a barfight?”

“He didn’t hit him back, or start it, really. Sicheng and I were trying to cut the other guy off, but he was getting pissed off.”

“Ahh, he thought he was helping you.” Your manager nodded in understanding.

“About that, we’ve only been on one date, and—”

“I don’t need to know all the details. I just don’t want to have to enter the building like that ever again, okay?”

“Heard.”

He cracked a grin then. “I will say—I like him a lot better than the last one.”

“God, don’t remind me,” you groaned and shook your head.

“And that’s the last time I’ll ever bring him up. I’m glad he’s gone.” Kun held his hands up in surrender. “Now go find something to do.”

“Ten’s not scheduled for tonight, so I’m on the front.”

“Go do that.”

“Heard.” You clicked your tongue and gave him a casual salute, heading back out of the office.

Kunhang found you again setting up the barricades for the queue out front. He squinted at you, then laughed, “Oh, those looked like Taro’s sunglasses for a second.”

“They are,” you answered nonchalantly, pushing the frames back up where they were sliding down the bridge of your nose.

“Why are you wearing his sunglasses?”

“Because he forgot them here, it’s bright as hell out, and I don’t have another pair on me.”

“That’s… reasonable.”

“You said that weird.”

“Well, here’s the thing—” Your coworker stopped where he was rearranging the barricades, facing you. “I don’t think you’ve noticed but I’m like… 99% sure the guy has a huge crush on you.”

You kept a straight face. “Really?”

“Yeah, the poor guy is like… so down bad it’s not even funny anymore. Kinda a bit sad, actually.” He sighed. “So I just think that you wearing his sunglasses… it’s gonna mess with his head, you know?”

“You think so?” You scrunched your nose, pretending to think really hard about it.

“Yeah.”

You eventually shook your head. “I don’t know, I don’t think he does…”

It was ten till midnight, and you looked between the time and the back door.

“If you’ve got somewhere you need to be, you can go,” Kunhang nudged you with his knee.

“Yeah, you’ve been checking your phone every ten seconds,” Yangyang snorted, scrolling on his phone. “Seriously, we’ve got it. We’ve done a bajillion dance nights, and Kun is here in case something goes horribly wrong.”

You ignored them, instead looking directly at your sound tech. “Hey, Yang, weird question: Do you think Taro has a crush on me?”

He burst out laughing, grabbing his sides as he keeled forward, barely catching himself on Kunhang’s leg. Still giggling, he sobered up enough to say, “Well, duh. Y/N, oh my God, I never pegged you for an idiot. What the fuck? Did you seriously not—”

The back door opened then, and you immediately spotted Shotaro descending the stairs, looking around the crowded room.

“That’s spooky,” Yangyang muttered. “Do you think he like, heard me somehow?”

“He was here earlier to see Y/N,” Kunhang said pointedly. “See? He totally—”

You simply raised your hand and waved until Shotaro saw you, immediately perking up and making his way across the venue. Your coworkers had half a mind to shut up as the guitarist stopped in front of you three.

“Hey guys,” he smiled at the other two, then pointed at the sunglasses perched atop your head. “Those are mine.”

“You forgot them here,” you informed him smugly, leaning back in your seat and taking them off. You let them dangle by the arm off the tip of your finger as you held them out to him.

“I told you I forgot something,” he teased, taking the sunglasses back. He turned the shades around, leaning in as he tucked them back into your hair. “They look better on you anyway.”

You left them there this time, grinning up at him. “I think you’re right, actually.”

“You good to go?”

“Yep.” You got to your feet, tossing your dumbfounded coworkers a goodbye over your shoulder. Shotaro’s hand found yours, keeping you close as you weaved through the crowd.

It was Thursday again, and you were backstage, monitoring the band as they got ready to go on. There was a hustle and bustle like usual, and right as they were preparing to step onto stage, you called out expectantly, “Taro? Forget something?”

“Oh, right,” he grinned and shook his head, jogging over to you. He held your face with two hands, kissing you right there backstage, his lips still sugary sweet from the Sour Patch Kids he’d been snacking on moments prior.

After he’d pulled back, you held up his in-ears and pack, which he’d given you when he needed a very last-minute run to the bathroom. “I meant these.”

You could hear the snickers from his bandmates as he took the equipment from you, rushing to put it all back on. “Yeah, that too, I guess. What if I said I’ve been losing things on purpose this entire time as a genius ploy to—”

“Go perform already! I’m sick of you!” You rolled your eyes dramatically and pushed him away, back towards the stage.

“Fine, only because you asked so nicely.” He winked, dashing back over just in time to run out on stage with the rest of the band.

“What the hell?” Ten was just off to your side, staring at you, accompanied by Sicheng. You didn’t want to know who was at the bar right now.

“What?” You tilted your head innocently, walking over to them.

“Taro just kissed you?” He looked around, bewildered. “Sicheng, that was crazy, right?”

“Huh?” Your bartender glanced between the two of you, seeming just as lost. “Have they not been dating this whole time?”

⤷ au masterlist | blog masterlist

[callmedaleelah]

Hi sister, I love your blog, thank you so much for keeping the requests open 🫂

Could I request a husband!Satoru who loves the female reader's wide hips and legs? As if he couldn't keep his hands off her 🫦

Love from Venezuela 🇻🇪🤍

okay but satoru being obsessed with your legs and hips? peak husband behavior. this man is literally down bad and living his best life as your #1 worshipper.

head over heels (and hips, and legs) — gojo satoru x reader

a/n : fluff, domestic sweetness, satoru is shameless, extreme leg and hip appreciation, marriage fluff, mild suggestiveness (he’s a menace but a loving one), works under cut

weekends with gojo satoru are always unpredictable. sometimes he drags you out of bed at an ungodly hour, insisting on spontaneous road trips or arcade dates. sometimes he sleeps in, face buried in your stomach, mumbling incoherent nonsense about how you’re “so soft, so comfy, so wifey.” and sometimes, like today, he’s simply around—lingering, orbiting, absolutely incapable of keeping his hands to himself.

you’re lounging on the couch, ipad in hand, scrolling through your to-do list for the day.

• make breakfast for satoru (done)

• clean the freezer (done)

• restock dental floss in the bathroom cabinet (done)

• wash all the white clothes (done)

• vacuum the bedroom rug (not yet)

it’s a peaceful afternoon. golden sunlight filters through the curtains, casting warm patterns on the floor. you hum softly, tapping your checklist with satisfaction when—

“my beautiful wife?”

you don’t even look up. “yes, mister gojo?”

his footsteps echo across the wooden floor as he saunters into the kitchen. “i bought your favorite kikufuku,” he announces, dramatically placing the box in the fridge like it’s a sacred offering.

you chuckle, finally glancing his way. “it’s your favorite.”

“yeah, but you like what i like, so.” he’s grinning as he walks back to you, but then—

he sees it.

the way you’re sprawled on the couch, lying on your stomach, white leggings snug against your legs. the soft curve of your hips, the casual arch of your back, the way your feet lazily sway in the air as you focus on your ipad.

his mouth goes dry.

oh. oh, you look so good.

before you can react, satoru launches himself onto the couch, draping himself dramatically across your body. his head lands directly on your butt, his arms wrapping around your legs like a koala.

you let out a loud laugh, startled but not surprised. “satoru!”

“mmmh,” he hums contentedly, face practically squished against you. “so comfy. so perfect.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

“i’m obsessed,” he corrects, adjusting so he can nuzzle against you even more. his fingers knead at your thighs, thumbs tracing slow circles over the fabric of your leggings.

when you shift slightly, he takes it as an invitation to spread your legs just enough to fit himself between them, sighing dramatically. “baby, please put me in a headlock for the rest of the day.”

you snort. “i’m afraid you’ll pass out for that long, honey.”

“worth it.”

this isn’t the first time satoru has latched onto you like this, and it sure as hell won’t be the last. you’re not sure when exactly his obsession with your legs and hips started, but he’s never been subtle about it.

maybe it was back when you were still dating, that one summer concert where he hoisted you onto his shoulders so you could see your favorite band from afar. his hands had gripped your thighs the entire time, keeping you steady—but the way he held you, the way his thumbs rubbed slow, reverent circles against your skin, had felt different. like he was committing the shape of you to memory.

or maybe it’s just something ingrained in him, something about you that makes him crave closeness. he shows it in the way he absentmindedly caresses your legs during late-night cuddles, or how he holds your waist while you’re both brushing your teeth, or how his hand always finds its way to your thigh when he’s driving—whether it’s a ten-minute trip to the grocery store or a long ride out of town.

“you know,” you murmur, adjusting so that you’re sitting up now, fingers raking through his hair. “you don’t have to cling to me every time you see my legs.”

he gasps, scandalized. “how dare you.”

you raise an eyebrow.

“you think i just choose to ignore divine beauty when it’s right in front of me?” he places a dramatic hand over his heart. “baby, i’m a loyal worshipper of your legs. i would never disrespect them by looking away.”

you roll your eyes, but there’s warmth in your chest. “satoru—”

“no, no, let me finish,” he interrupts, hands squeezing your hips. “do you know what it does to me when you sit on my lap? when you put your legs over mine when we’re on the couch? when i wake up in the morning and see you all soft and comfy and mine?”

his voice drops slightly, playful but sincere. “you ruin me, baby.”

your heart stutters a little.

he’s ridiculous. absolutely insane. but he’s also so in love with you, so utterly devoted in a way that makes you feel warm and cherished.

satoru, sensing his victory, grins. “so?”

“so what?”

“so can i stay like this for the next few hours?”

you pretend to think. “hmm..,”

“baby.”

“hmm..,”

he groans, burying his face in your stomach now, wrapping his arms fully around you like he’s afraid you’ll escape. “i love you.”

you laugh softly, fingers threading through his hair again. “i love you too, you big weirdo.”

he sighs, utterly content. “that’s mrs. weirdo to you.”

this was so fun to write. gojo being a menace for his wife is canon and no one can tell me otherwise 🙄😬

by the way i’d love to visit venezuela one day

[lbxbx]

Blackmail | KTH

Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, angst. Five shot

Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.

Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever.

next

“He’s probably late over something stupid.” One of the hairstylists huffs blowing her fringe off of her face.

Nothing new really, you’re so sick of hearing her whine all the time, as if she’s not aware of how hectic the schedule is especially during their tour, not only the schedule is all over the place, they usually get sick and exhausted during this time so they do deserve to rest for an hour longer at least.

Of course you rolled your eyes and sometimes you would actually leave the entire room the second she starts whining and radiating negative energy to the entire staff, once she starts nagging, the energy shifts right away since over half of the staff don’t like her.

You were able to manage though and got used to it since you’ve been working with her for a couple years now, you figured out a way to reduce your chances of a headache. The moment she starts whining you take your airpods out of your pocket and put them on, blasting the music really high up and totally caring less if you couldn’t hear people around you.

Your job was quite sensitive, it took you years to get to where you are right now, you had to be there all the time whether it was broadcasts, practice or even listening parties or stupid birthday parties, you were always there with them.

And being with them for a few years now made you all really close, you understand their characters very well and it’s nothing like what people see on TV or their phone screens, they’re still human after all, and most importantly, they’re still men.

It’s four in the afternoon and time is ticking, the concert is supposed to be started by 9 in the evening and they’re still not here, and there was still a sound check and practice that had to be done first, you were really behind on schedule. You see the girls standing up at the same time which makes you lower down the music.

You hear footsteps coming from the end of the aisle and the staff are all on standby which means that they’re finally here, you take your spot near your station and put your airpods back in their case ready to start on Taehyung’s face.

Your work suited his face the best, of course you’d work on everyone’s face if they needed you to cover for someone, but you were really skilled and your talent suited his features the most. You’ve been working on Taehyung for a couple months now.

 He gets into the room and yanks his top off, a view you’re used to the entire time whether it was him or any of them, he throws himself onto the chair and looks at you once before looking at his reflection in the mirror. “How are you?” A forced smile lingers on his face.

“Good, how are you?” You smile under your face mask, he nods his head. “Sleep deprived, but I should make it.”

“Fingers crossed.” You cross your own fingers and put a headband around his head to get his hair off of his face, he’s growing his hair really tall that he’s tying it in a man bun most of the time. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not planning to cut it off.”

He’s smarter than what people think, you giggle and nod. “I think it looks good on you.” You finally pump some primer onto your hand and start dabbing it onto the skin of his face.

You know people envy you for your job, and in fact you’re really happy with it because it pays really well along with other privileges. Their fans probably envy you the most and you know they look really good but you’re not attracted to any of them in any possible way. You spent so much time with them that they feel like colleagues.

After all, you and them work for the same company.

He takes his phone out and dims the brightness as he starts rapidly texting someone, his leg anxiously moving up and down, you’re used to that too, he must be nervous or tired.

It was peak summer and the weather was suffocating, the humidity and the heat together forced everyone to either wear less clothes or constantly keep the air conditioners turned on, but in your case you had to chose both because you cannot stand the heat, and you get really embarrassed if you got sweaty.

And honestly your top was driving you insane, it was really lose that it kept going down your shoulder, and whenever you would move to grab a brush or anything, it would slip down your shoulder and reveal your bra straps, you can’t keep holding onto it the entire time because you needed both your hands while you’re working, so once you adjust your top it would slip back down your shoulders in seconds.

It kept happening over and over before Taehyung notices, a smug smirk sits on his face before he runs his index finger over the collar of your shirt. “I love your shirt.” And you playfully slap his hand off and grab him by his chin to throw his head back, dabbing contour onto his jaw line. “Thank you, I got it when we were in Vegas last year.”

He moves his head down again to look at your plain white top as if it was his first time seeing this excessive amount of skin, he’s totally checking out your tits and cleavage that appeared whenever your shirt fell down your shoulder. “Oh I miss Vegas.”

“You do?” You push his head back again and he finally gives in. “I enjoyed shopping there.”

“Other magical stuff can happen in Vegas if you know what I mean.” He winks at you which makes you force a laugh. “Says the one who spent his entire time at the hotel.”

“Exactly.” He simply agrees before looking around making sure no one is listening before signaling you to come closer and you do, and he whispers. “I spent two nights with four different women.”

You’re used to so many weird things from the seven boys, but this is a first for you. You look around worriedly hoping that no one over heard him, your body tenses and you feel the need to escape this weird topic. “It was an iconic concert though.”

He scoffs before whispering again. “Girl fuck the concert, four different whores in two nights, it was an experience out of this world.”

“Taehyung.” Your voice stern and serious when you stop him. “You know this isn’t allowed, and you’re being a little loud right now.”

He waves his hand before he looks you dead in the eye. “We do this all the time, nothing is not allowed.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s always you men bragging about stuff like that.”

And he even dares to look around the room again. “There are 13 different women in this room right now, I slept with like.. 9 of them.”

Your shirt drops down your shoulder again but you’re too occupied working on the face in front of you that’s been blabbering nonstop about things that are making you severely uncomfortable. “This is totally not okay.”

“Says who.” His eyes pierce through your cleavage. “Sometimes girls beg me to sleep with them, and I can’t let them down can I?”

“You’re lying.” Your fingers start working faster still making sure the makeup that sits on his face is flawless, you’re wishing this conversation would end fast.

“I can show you if you want to.” He raises an eyebrow in challenge and you giggle thinking in your head that he’s totally joking, but he probably isn’t.

“No thanks I’m good.” You finally put on some lip tint and spray his face with a setting spray. “You’re good to go.”

He gets up but his eyes are still focused onto your chest, a little uncomfortable space between you two as he puts his hands in his pockets. “If you still don’t believe me go ask Namjoon or Jungkook, they spent the night with someone and they could probably tell you about it.”

“Why are you insisting on proving it to me?” You frown and walk a step back, “I’m not interested in finding out more.”

He shrugs carelessly. “I wanted to do you a favor, maybe the nine I fucked in this room can finally be ten, by then I’ll have only three left.” He laughs, totally proud of the joke he said, if that’s even considered a joke.

You scrunch your nose and hit his chest playfully, you kind of wished you did it harder though before you tell him. “Shut up, get away.”

He takes another step closer and hooks his finger to the collar of your shirt to reveal your chest that’s only covered with a bra.

“I know the female body really well, and I know women really like having their tits sucked, have you ever had your tits sucked before?”

This time you push him harder and hug your shirt closer to your chest. “You’re crossing the limits Taehyung. Get away.”

He laughs playfully and feigns innocence before tapping your nose. “You’re so cute do you know that? I’ll see you on the break, maybe you should do some thinking until then.”

Mira the hairstylist pushes Taehyung back onto his chair and takes the headband off of his head, you reorganize the makeup into the makeup bag when you overhear him asking her. “Are you feeling better today?”

Mira sounds flustered when she answers him. “Shut up.”

Maybe he did actually fuck over half of the girls around this room, this man is unbelievable.

-

As soon as the first part of the concert ended they moved backstage again to change and have their makeup retouched, you knew he was going to start the awkward talk again so you put your airpods  on and pretended to be listening  to music even if you weren’t. His eyes were  piercing through your entire body the whole time.

He takes out his phone and opens the gallery to purposely open a video he filmed, he could see that you were watching his screen so he turns up the brightness on his phone.

In the video was a naked girl on her knees in front of him, her hands tied behind her back and her makeup was smudged, she was begging him to make her cum . And he was caressing her cheek and  putting his thumb between her lips.

Your facial expressions change and you find yourself cringing, he looks at you and bats his eyelashes. “I told you.”

“Taehyung, this is wrong on so many levels.” You push his face to the side to work on his makeup.

“It isn’t, I promise.” He shakes his head. “I promise you no one will ever know. We can spend a couple nights together and that’s it, no strings attached.”

And you immediately refuse. “Absolutely not.”

“Are you close with any of the girls around here?” He asks and you’re a little taken back at his question. “Yeah?”

“Who?”

“Luna I guess.” You name one of the girls while shrugging and he scoffs, before exiting the video on his phone and scrolling through it to open another video.

In it you see Luna one of your closest friends in the company, blindfolded in a bed and Taehyung’s face is in between her legs as he’s eating her out. Is it really okay to mess around?

“You can’t be serious.” You gasp. “Is it only you or do the other guys do the same?”

“I don’t care, but if you have your eye on someone I could hook you two up together or something.” He shrugs and your jaw visibly  drops. “You are unbelievable Kim Taehyung.”

“Wait until you try me in bed. I’m a fucking god.” He confidently speaks and you’re shocked, you’ve known the man for years but this is totally new for you. “Name someone else.” He exits the video on his phone before you shake your head. “No thanks, I don’t think I wanna see anymore.”

He locks his  phone and leans his head back onto the chair while crossing his arms. “Just think it through and I promise you won’t regret it.”

“It seems to me like you’re the one begging for sex.” You force a smirk, his eyes meet yours for a couple seconds and he mirrors your smirk. “What if I was?”

“You’re getting nothing anyway.” You shrug. “You’re done, get up.”

“Oh I get it.” He remains in his seat. “Are you attracted to someone else? Let me guess, is it Jungkook? All women have something for that jerk.”

“I can’t deny he’s cute. But nope.”

“Is it Seokjin?” He tilts his head. “No, is it Jimin? Do you have a kink for cute guys or something?”

You roll your eyes and turn your head to walk away before he grabs your wrist. “Can you make my lips a little darker please?”

You look around trying to find the lip brush before dabbing some color onto his lips. “I’ve been told that I was good with my mouth, I just care about you so much I feel the need to make you experience it.”

“Oh my god.” You roll your eyes and put the lip brush away, he rises up on his feet while laughing, “Alright I promise I’m done, but I just want you to think it through, you won’t regret it.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think I’m changing my mind.” You clean up your station, he brushes his entire body against your back and whispers. “Will you be there tomorrow on the episode filming?”

“Well I guess unfortunately I’m always there.” You flinch in your spot and immediately take a step back. “Taehyung please stop touching me like that.”

“Alright.” He takes a step back and whispers. “I have a surprise for you tomorrow, I promise you will love it.”

“Then maybe I should call sick.” You look at his reflection through the mirror, he smirks and high key stares down at your ass, a second away from actually groping it in front of the entire staff and his band mates. “So I’m guessing you don’t like surprises.”

“From you? Nope.” You turn to face him, realizing you’re sandwiched between him and the mirror behind you, “May I?” You clear your throat, trying to find a way to get away from him, he stands next to you and gives you enough space to walk out of the room, his eyes still locked onto your ass, thank god it was summer time and thank god for biker shorts. Taehyung was suffering when he can clearly see the outline of your panties through your shorts and he can’t do anything about it.

Your rejection only makes him insist more and Taehyung grew up spoiled, people got him everything he wanted, and if they didn’t, he made sure to get it in his own way. So your rejection doesn’t really matter to him. He will have you eventually.

Even if you said no.

-

It’s the next day and you were already on the set, luckily one of the other stylist couldn’t make it so you had to work with Namjoon and Jimin instead. You could clearly see Taehyung’s eyes staring at your reflection in the mirror even when he’s three chairs away. You roll your eyes when he winks at you and he even dares to blow a cheap kiss. Your friend Leah who’s been working on his face rolls her eyes too and stands in the way.

“Do you wanna put your lenses on?” You ask Namjoon, he takes one look at the mirror and shrugs. “I don’t feel like putting lenses on, what do you think?”

“You’d look good both ways, but maybe I should put more eye makeup on if you’re not putting lenses on, is that okay?” You fish out another palette and show him the colors and he nods. “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Of course. Y/N’s so good you have no idea.” Taehyung gets up from his chair and walks towards you. “You’re lucky she listens to you, I tried suggesting things to her but she kept saying no.”

Namjoon scoffs and grabs out his phone. “It’s because she’s smart.” Does he know about his friend?

“Don’t you want to know about the surprise?” He puts one of his hands in his pockets and takes a step closer to you, his other hand picking onto your top, even sneaking a look under it.  Practically there was nothing to see, the studio they were filming in was freezing cold so you had an extra layer on. You subtly push his hand away and look back at Namjoon’s face trying to finish him up. It was basically impossible with Taehyung distracting you.

He takes another step closer this time his body almost touching yours as he whispers. “I’ll be waiting for you in the parking lot after we’re done filming, please come.”

You sigh and look at him, this can’t end up will and it won’t. His personality specifically scares you and you could swear the man was bipolar in some sort, when sometimes he’s all flirty and shit, and all of a sudden he claims this character that’s so innocent and cute which doesn’t really suit him.

“I’ll think about it.” You put the brush down and tap Namjoon’s shoulder. “What do you think?”

“It looks great, thank you.” He barely smiles and immediately leaves his chair to go and lay down on the nearest couch. You turn your head back to put the brush back into the makeup bag and Taehyung is still standing there. His eyes still scanning your entire body.

He’s a man with a plan, and honestly he knew exactly how he wants to have you. He scans you head to toe, your hair that he wants to pull on while he’s pounding into you uncontrollably, your lips and neck that he cannot wait to bite into. The way you bite your lip when you’re anxious or when you try to hide a laugh always ignited him.

Your chest, fuck he can easily tell the color of your bras and he even knows when you do your laundry, he knows exactly when are the days you wear on your sports bra, or the days you switched to your black bra that perfectly highlighted your tits. Although he grew to be a fan of your pastel pink bra that makes the color of your skin pop, he admires how the cups hug onto your big tits and this bra’s straps particularly keep sliding down your small shoulders.

He moves down to your waist and hips, the outline of your panties through your pants were like a gift from god to him, he would purposely drop things down on the floor just to watch you pick it back up, and those days would usually end up with him either hooking up with someone just to let it out of his system, or just jerk it off alone in his place.

Your juicy ass is going to be the death of him, he would sometimes sneak into the gym at the company just to watch you jog in your tights, satiating his eyes and scratching an itch inside him just to watch it jiggle right before his eyes.

During their tours he would constantly grab your handbag into his hotel room, making an excuse that your handbags look alike even when they aren’t even remotely close to being similar. He would lock the door right away and rummage through your clothes just to fish out all your panties and jerk off to them, one being around his cock and the other one near his nose and lips, sniffing and inhaling whatever is left onto them of your smell, even though they were washed, but he convinced himself that this is how you smell. It was really erotic.

And before you notice your bag missing, he would quickly take pictures of your panties just for him to keep and return them to your bag and switching it out with his. He lost control so many times and “Accidentally” Shot his seed onto your panties, and with the small span of time he had, he had to return them soiled into your handbag.

Which when you discovered it was already dried up, you huffed and the naïve you thought it was the bottle of your conditioner blew up or something, which if you think harder and open your eyes, it was only one soiled panty.

Taehyung had a goal, and growing up not being surrounded by many women in his life, he’s compensating but in an abnormal way, he has hooked up with over half the women who work in your company and it was your turn and he wanted to have you just so he can check your name on the list and tick it done.

“We’re starting in 10 minutes.” The producer announces which snaps Taehyung out of his thoughts. “So did you pack for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, aren’t you excited?” You genuinely ask, you packed up your carry on the night before since you’re all heading to Osaka tomorrow for their tour. You can’t deny you love your job, you get to travel all over the world with them and you even get paid for it. But little do you know, there will be a price you have to pay.

“Oh yeah, even when it’s just for one day but I love Osaka.” He looks behind you and you follow his eyesight to find one of the stylists wearing short shorts that her lower butt cheek was clearly visible to everyone. You look back at Taehyung to see him still glancing at her ass with his head tilted. “Oh my god Taehyung, stop.”

He laughs and takes his phone out. “Come take a look. Her ass didn’t look like that when she was naked.” You debate for a second but you’re human after all and you’re a little curious, you stand next to him and watch him dig through a locked folder on his phone, scrolling up for a good two minutes before he finds the picture.

It was that stylist laying flat on the bed face down, her hand tied behind her back and her bare ass was sore read, clearly spanked and fucked until she passed out. And he was right, her ass didn’t look the same when she was naked. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean that this isn’t wrong.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel better I get their consent before I do anything.” He scrolls up again. “Wanna see something else? Look, this is her.”

He hands you one of his airpods and you put it on, and he starts a video of her down on her knees, her eyes blood red, clearly she was either drunk or high, and she was begging him to slap her on the face with his thumb into her mouth.

“Shit.. Please daddy, please spank me and make me yours.”

“Good girl, are you going to be daddy’s little whore and beg more?”

“Please spank your little whore on the face, it feels so fucking good when you do that, please spank me.”

And he slaps her hard on the cheek enough to make her hair fall on her face, but she immediately looks back at him and begs him to do it again and again and he does. And you can’t help but to notice the tip of his cock showing in the video. “How does getting slapped on the face feel good? I don’t get it.”

“Shh-“ He notices your voice getting a little higher and opens up another video. “You shouldn’t knock it till you try it, every girl I’ve been with said it felt amazing.”

“Do you think you would enjoy getting slapped on the face?” You ask, blinking your eyes a couple of times, he smirks and locks his phone. “I haven’t tried yet, but I’m willing to try it with you if you want to, maybe you can slap me on the face while you’re riding my dick, we’ll see if it feels good.”

Your face flushes at his explicit mentions of sex, you hit him on the arm and turn away from him, packing your kit into the makeup bag and taking a seat finally. And your flushed cheeks are considered as a good sign to him, he’s getting there and he’s slowly sinking his claws in to have you eventually.

The episode they’re filming took them a little over eight hours, you’re already packed and ready to leave and you hesitate actually going down to the parking lot, it’s almost an hour after filming and you’re not sure he’s still in the building or not.

The elevator stops at -1 and you make your way out, the entire floor is near empty and you can only spot around four cars parked around the floor, and all of them seem empty, except for the Genesis Suv that’s parked way back in the corner that flashes it’s lights repeatedly. It’s him.

You make your way there and reach your hand to the door handle and try to open it but it’s locked. Quite a trashy move of him to actually call you over and forget his car locked. You roll your eyes when he unlocks the car and you go inside. “What?”

“What?” He mocks you and locks his car again, “How was your day?”

“Taehyung just make it quick will you? We have a flight to catch tomorrow and I’m nowhere near ready—“ You’re interrupted by him shushing you and grabbing your purse away from you to put in the back seat. He reaches his entire body to the car floor and takes out a little box that’s wrapped in a tiny velvety ribbon. “This is my surprise for you.”

You’re intrigued. Your gaze meets his for a split second before you reject the box. “I can’t take gifts from you.”

He doesn’t even argue as he offers you the box again. “Hey, you don’t have to open it now if you want to.” He puts the box down onto your lap and leans his arm on the middle console. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning and you’ll tell me what you think, deal?”

You’re even more intrigued and you’re getting more curious to actually find out what’s inside, and why would he actually stay after schedule just to hand you this gift? You even shake the box while suspiciously maintaining eye contact with him which makes him smirk. You can only hear one thing clicking in the box and you can’t quite put a finger on it and figure out what it is?

“Alright, whatever. Are you going to drive me to my place or what?” You already put your hand on the door handle ready to leave the car. “No I can’t I’m sorry, I have a place to be, I can get you to the bus stop if you want to.” He just says that out of pity. What a douche.

“No thank you, I’ll walk there.” You squint your eyes before you leave the car, he doesn’t even wait for you to walk out of the building and he drives away fast, he really is a douche.

Public transportation wasn’t a big deal for you anyway, the ride home on the bus was very therapeutic to you, you usually keep your headphones on and listen to an audio book on your way back to clear your mind, or you would usually catch up with your friends on the group chat or something.

Sometimes you would even fall asleep if it was an exhausting day, but on your trip home tonight you were anticipating getting to your studio apartment so much, not that you’re greedy for the gift or anything, but you’re just curious why he so suddenly decided on giving you a gift that actually looks expensive.

You get there after a 40 minute trip and you finally get into your flat, not even taking your shoes off you rush to your couch and put the box down and untie the little dainty velvety ribbon, you take the top of the box off and you only see a few wrapping papers covering what seems to be a clothing item. You take it out and you feel your entire body heat up. It’s a costume.

No no, not any costume, it’s a little too slutty to be an actual costume. It’s a black leather one piece with spaghetti straps, a really low neck line that you know no one’s chest will ever fit in them. Not only that, but a pair of black lace stockings and suspenders, and a choker.

What in hell..

You put them down on the couch beside you and dig deeper into the box to find cat ears headband and a.. What the actual fuck.

A butt plug?

You cannot believe him, you put the blame on yourself for actually listening to him and meeting him up in the parking lot, and you shouldn’t have accepted the gift in the first place, he’s an actual man whore.

You scrunch up the entire outfit in a messy ball and throw it back in the box, before closing it and throwing it near your door on the floor, so you can pick it up and throw it in the trash in the morning.

-

A mini-van is supposed to collect all the girls up from their places and head to the airport, and of course you’re late. Last night’s sleep was horrendous, you couldn’t stop overthinking about the little trashy gift you got from the trashy man. You cannot believe some girls actually idolize this man.

“Y/N, if we miss the flight we have to book one ourselves.” Mira shouts as you hurriedly close your carry on and struggle to put on your pair of sneakers. You look at the trash near your door and sigh. “Damn it. I have to take the trash out.”

“Nope, you’re not taking anything out, I’m not willing to pay anything extra for the job I cannot stand.” She’s slowly losing her patience and so are you. You forget about the trash and get out of your place and lock your door.

The moment you get to the airport it’s already chaotic. Their schedule has been up since last week to the public and their fans know that they’re going out for tour, so they’re waiting there to hand them gifts and handmade letters. Again you cannot believe the image he shows to people of him when you know his true personality.

And boy was he good at faking an entire persona, you have no idea what girls think of him but fuck he’s nowhere near how girls imagine him. A trashy human being that you could swear reeks like sex the entire time. He looks like he woke up with a hangover so you guess he was probably with someone last night and he was onto something.

He notices your existence amid all the chaos when you all get up to the lounge to have your breakfast even when you could’ve waited to get to Japan to eat, the trip wasn’t that far away. You grab yourself a cup of coffee and stack up food on your plate, you know you won’t have the time to eat later so you decide on fueling up early today.

“Good morning.” He puts his coffee down on the same table you’re sitting around and you sigh before looking around. Relax Y/N, you cannot make a scene.

“Good morning.” You proceed on eating, you cannot let him ruin your morning this quickly.

“So, what do you think?” He crosses his legs and tilts his head towards you. “The moment I saw the costume I knew I had to buy it for you.”

“Mhm, truly says a lot about your character, a trashy gift from someone like you.” You don’t beat around the bush. He laughs and leans towards you to whisper. “Please tell me you got it in your luggage.”

“Nope, I’m getting rid of it—“

He shrugs right away. “Then I’ll buy you another one.”

A moment of silence fills the air when your gaze meets his for a couple seconds, he pulls his chair closer to yours and takes his phone out which makes you whine. You know he’s going to show you more of his kinky NSFW content and it’s really uncomfortable for you to watch it. “Look, I don’t know how I can explain this better for you, but trust me. It is okay for things like that to happen in this field.”

“Just because everyone’s doing it doesn’t mean it’s right.” There you go, a girl with standards.

“I swear it is okay.” He pulls his chair even closer and now his shoulder is rubbing against yours when he whispers. “Y/N baby, us men are totally different. You girls can go around without sex for ages and you won’t even care. But men have this sexual energy that they need to let out one way or another.”

This is really disgusting.

“And people like us need to be careful on who to hook up with, and you girls are the safest because we work together.” He shrugs. “Not only us, every idol in the country has to do so.”

Of course it’s partially right, but you’re genuinely confused on why wouldn’t he just get a girlfriend instead of bitching around with plenty of women.

“You know, the idea itself is not that acceptable, but I can understand. But why do you film them? For the love of god you have an entire folder on your phone dedicated to this content. I mean, why do you have to film them when you have them right there in front of you?”

“Good question.” He nods. “You know how some people try and discover themselves, they sometimes dig around here and there trying to find out what actually turns them on, and you know they try and discover their preferences?”

“Are you trying to mansplain what kinks are?” You proceed on eating. “So is that your kink? You like filming women?”

“It’s more fun than the actual thing to me. And the times I made myself cum to the videos I created are countless. It’s fucking sexy.” He grits on his teeth and puts an arm around your chair. You’re getting uncomfortable with him not leaving you enough amount of personal space. “I love watching them looking at the camera and begging to be fucked and just submit to me.”

“And they’re all okay with being filmed?” You ask him and he nods right away. “Now they know what I like, and now they ask me to film them. What about you?”

“No, I’m good thank you.” You answer right away and put down your fork when you’ve fully wiped your plate clean.

“No, I mean what kinks do you have? Have you tried discovering what your preferences are?” He asks, twirling a strand of your hair in his hand, you can feel his breath against your ear when he whispers. “What was it like being fucked the first time?”

It takes you a moment to answer but you eventually do. “I don’t remember what it was like, it was long ago, but I don’t recall it being fun.”

“First time is always awkward.” He nods. “What about the second time?”

You shrug one shoulder and cross your arms. “I don’t think of sex the way you do. I mean I’ve had sex multiple times with different partners, but I think it’s a little overrated.”

“Overrated?” He’s offended. His hand sits on his chest. “You think sex is overrated?”

“Okay chill.” You get up on your feet to refill your coffee and he follows you. “I just don’t find it as fun and as pleasuring as people claim it is.”

“It’s because you haven’t had it with the right person.” He defends right away. “Oh my god did you even cum before?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, maybe.”

He’s interrupted by your gate opening, their carryon luggage is carried and already loaded inside and the rest of the staff is starting to board. “This isn’t finished yet. I’ll see you when we get to our hotel.”

“Whatever Taehyung, don’t make a big deal out of this.” You push him away to grab your bag and get in line. “It is a big deal.” He argues one last time and gets in line and boards the plane.

-

You have no idea what went through you, but the entire flight you were rethinking your conversation with him and you find yourself slowly getting convinced about the idea generally. You really surprised yourself when you hum out loud, thinking that you are getting curious to try and spend one night with him.

Do girls actually want to sleep with him because he’s good? Or because he’s an idol and that’s like literally a fetish to some people.

You cannot deny he’s really good looking, he’s really charming on camera but even the camera doesn’t do him any justice, he was perfectly sculpted in real life and way more attractive than people think.  But it’s just his recurrent sexual behavior that’s been setting you off. You find yourself cringing.

The entire plane has been booked for Bangtan and their staff. Them with their managers, security, filming staff, directors, producers, engineers, stylists and makeup artists of course, editors. Everyone on this plane knew each other.

It was a little noisy to begin with since some are catching up and some are chatting, so you put your earphones on the entire flight, and right when your third song on your playlist ended and the fourth one is about to start, you over hear the girls behind you.

“You need to cover for me when we get there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can barely stand on my feet, and I’m really sore from last night.”

“Who did you spend the night with? I thought you were inviting me.”

“Taehyung and Jungkook. I passed out at the end.”

“You’re kidding.” 

So it is normal for girls to actually sleep with them and go around telling their friends like it’s totally okay. It’s starting to feel like a whore house, and it probably is.

You peak your head to look towards Jungkook and Taehyung, both of them are sleeping and even snoring. Of course they’re tired when they spend the previous night with the same girl. This is so fucked up.

Not long after you all get to the hotel to spend the only free hour you get before your day starts and you all head to the stadium for rehearsals. You’re surprised that the entire hotel is booked for the staff too and you luckily get your own room with one single bed, but who are you to complain? You always hated having roommates, so one bed is way better than having a roommate.

Right when you’re about to close the door a foot stops it from moving any further which startles you for a second before you open the door again. Of course it’s him, who’s been digging deep and moving around asking stylists which room you got. “Oh come on.” You whine.

“Can I come in?” He so politely and innocently asks, for a second you’d doubt he’s the same person who showed you an entire folder of girls begging him to do stuff to them. He doesn’t even step a foot further inside your room before you huff and roll your eyes. “Come in.”

He takes one last look to the corridor and walks in, the door automatically locking when it closes.

“What’s up?” You act occupied as you take out your skin care products to put onto the dresser. He plops down onto your bed and grabs the pillow to put under his head. “We have unfinished business.”

“Taehyung, don’t you take no for an answer?” You don’t even spare him a glance.

“Hey, If it makes you feel any better, I’m your friend and colleague, we’re around the same age, consider this as a friend helping another friend.” He shrugs and talks as if it’s that easy. “And if it makes you comfortable, I’m not filming you if you don’t want to.”

“Oh yeah, because filming me was the only problem.” You turn your head to the little coffee machine in the corner of your room and make yourself a cup, he doesn’t argue back which makes you wonder why, you turn your head and he’s literally digging into your handbag and taking out one of your bras.

“Kim fucking Taehyung.” You snatch your bra away from him. “Get out.”

“I knew you were a C cup.” He gets up onto his feet. “Look, I’m sorry if this made you uncomfortable, but I don’t know why you’re really over thinking it. It’s just a one time thing, we hook up and that’s it, no one has to even know.”

“You could easily lure any woman into bed and we both know it, but snatching away my bra and showing me your stupid kink and shit won’t get me into bed with you.” You put your bra back into your handbag and close it.

“Then tell me how.” He puts his hand into his pockets. “What could get Y/N to sleep with me?”

“Exactly, and it’s nothing, nothing could get me to sleep with you Taehyung, this is fucked up.”

“Money? How much and I’ll give it to you cash, right now.”

The audacity on this man.

“Oh my god, you’re making it even worse if you can’t tell. Get out.” You open the door to your room.

He huffs and walks towards the door to shut it again. “Okay, look, I’m sorry if this offended you I didn’t mean so. But again why are you rejecting it? Millions of women want to be in your place.”

“Yeah, I know, and I’m not one of those millions. Besides, how am I supposed to look at you again if we ever slept together?” You cross your arms.

“Like you’ve always looked at me.” He pouts. “Nothing will change, no strings attached, it’s just one night, is it my fault that I really want you to enjoy one night?”

You open the door again and look him in the eye, your coffee is already gone cold and you’re over this argument. He closes the door again and tugs your hair behind your ear, whispering softly. “Y/N.. I feel like you’re different, you’re nothing like other girls, you’re a really nice, sweet and attractive young lady that deserves to feel like a woman.”

It’s a little alarming to you that with such small physical contact with him could make you think about it seriously.

There’s nothing to lose, you’re a woman after all and you have your needs.

He promised you one night, no strings attached, and apparently he’s really good and he knows what he’s doing.

“Don’t you think you deserve to have at least one night of mind blowing sex?” He grins and grazes the back of his hand against your cheek. “We’re flying back to Seoul tomorrow night, I’ll give you enough time to think, and maybe I can have your phone number or something, we could stay in contact and probably discuss things while keeping it on the low key.”

“Discuss?” You squint your eyes.

“Yeah, we could talk, tell me what you like and how you like it, you know, stuff like that.” He elaborates, you sigh and look him in the eyes. “What if we happen to like different things?”

“Then I’m willing to let go of the things that I like just for your sake.” He crosses his fingers. “I’m a good boy I promise.”

“Fine.” You can’t believe yourself. You take your phone out of your back pocket and proceed to add him to your contacts, a satisfied smile lingers on his face and he even leans forward to print a kiss to your cheek. He’s totally buttering up his bread and he thinks he can get you to agree to this faster, but you’re smarter than him.

“You’re crossing the lines Taehyung.”

“Who cares about the damn lines, if we agree to this I’ll be kissing other things and you’ll want me to.” He opens the door to your room and walks out. “I’ll see you around.”

And indeed. After your one hour free time you all headed to the stadium for rehearsals, the concert was happening tomorrow but everyone needed orientation around the place.

During the entire day he never brought it up, neither look at you like he has been recently, he kept it professional with you in front of everyone and never spoke about it like it never happened.

You were scheduled to leave the stadium at around 11 in the evening, the girls decided on going out for dinner but you skipped, you had multiple coffees during your day and you don’t feel physically well, so you just head back to your hotel and take the elevator up to your room.

You gasp when you see him about to take the elevator and go down, you barely recognize him when he has a cap and a face mask on. “Oh, hey Y/N.” He so casually speaks.

“Hey, you’re going out?” Why did you even ask. He laughs softly and shakes his head. “No, I’m going downstairs to grab a bite from the buffet, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you going out?”

“I’m a little tired, I guess I’ll just go to sleep or something.” It feels like you’re talking to the Taehyung you’ve always known for the past years, nothing feels different so far.

He looks at the time on his wrist and looks back at you. “If you want to, I’ll grab something to eat quickly and come hang out with you, maybe we can talk about that thing.”

Yup, never mind.

“I think I’d rather sleep.” You walk out of the elevator and he walks in instead. “Come on, 10 minutes max, I won’t be late.”

You shouldn’t have asked him anything in the first place.

“You know, I don’t think it would be a good idea if you and I stayed alone in one room.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to spice things up, we’re just hanging out discussing things, like other colleagues do.” He presses the button on the elevator. “I’ll see you later.”

And the elevator door closes before you could even shoo him away for the evening. He’s just going to come up to your room later and you know he’ll force himself inside.

You click the key card to your room and immediately change to your pajamas, you even turn off the lights and hope he thinks you’re asleep by the time he knocks at your door.

Thankfully time passed by and he never knocked. But instead he went back to his room and decided to text you.

1:54 | KTH:

Couldn’t come by sorry

1:54 | KTH:

Are you still awake?

1:54 | KTH

Wanna come over to my room 😉

KTH sent a photo

KTH sent a video

Of course he can see your read receipts, he knows you’re awake and he even lured you further into the conversation by sending you a photo and a video that you rush to open.

He’s not exactly there in the photo, the picture is taken of his TV turned on and he’s under the blanket, you can only see his covered legs from above the blanket, nothing too special.

The video is what makes your ears buzz, you find yourself pressing your thighs closer to each other, when he palms what seems to be his erection from above the blanket, and holy fuck was he big or were you hallucinating. You turn the volume up and you can hear his breath changing with every stroke of his cock. He inserts his hand under the blanket and strokes his cock before flipping the camera to his face and smiling like nothing happened.

Luckily that video is on replay, so it keeps replaying on its own unless you swipe it away, you don’t know what possesses you, you put your phone down against the used coffee cup from earlier and pull your pants down, your hand travels down to your folds and you touch yourself, delivering circular continues rubs to your clit and teasing your entrance with your middle and ring finger.

You spit onto your fingers and move further down again to rub your clit faster this time, your shoulders tensing and your hand already growing tired. It always takes you so long to get to your edge and you need a stimulant more than just a stupid photo or a video. Your other hand moves to grab your breasts out of your top and you pinch your nipple and squeeze onto your flesh. “Mmm.” Your eyes are piercing through your phone screen but your stupid screen saver decides on locking your phone which makes you whine desperately. “Ugh.” You grab your phone and unlock it, of course the video is gone.

2:03 | KTH:

Like what you see?

Has it been 9 minutes already?

Your fingers rush to type on the screen.

2:03 | You:

🙄

2:04 | You:

Mister kim is spending a night alone how weird

2:04 | KTH:

Mister Kim?

2:04 | KTH:

You can keep calling me mister kim if you want to 😉

You bite onto your fingernails, wanting to send a risky text but you’re so unsure. Your fingers hover over the screen and you proceed to type, but quickly delete what you wrote.

2:05 | KTH:

Want me to send you more? Maybe you can send me some

And of course this is off the table, you’re not going to send him nudes not because you’re against sending them generally, but you’re against sending nudes to him. Your pictures may end up in a folder on his phone like any other woman.

2:06 | You:

Goodnight.

Taehyung has been dealing with women like you for years now, he can see and expect any behavior that you may project and this is one of these situations. You sending him goodnight didn’t quite literally mean goodnight. He knows you want this to happen but you’re still in denial and you don’t know that yourself.

So of course, without thinking twice, he opens the camera on his phone and this time pulls the blanket down a little just to reveal the tip of his cock that’s pressed against his stomach. He grabs the massage oil to pump some onto his long fingers and strokes his angry dick again.

The man has been with so many women that he built a stamina that no regular woman can take, he can go for hours and women even beg him to cum just so they can rest, he was animalistic and it was out of this world, hence women actually passing out when sleeping with him. Stroking his cock alone won’t get him to his end and he could easily calm his erection without having to cum, the self control on this man is incredible.

 He touches the red circle on his phone screen and starts filming, clearly teasing you and showing you only the tip, his cock all glistening from the massage oil. It was quiet around his hotel room, and the only thing that’s heard in the video is the sound of stroking heard clearly when it’s this slippery, and the sounds he was unbelievably good at faking, little whimpers and moans, his breath hitching and even swear words escaping his lips. “Fuck.. Mm, Y/N, this is all for you.”

The video was sent to you, and you don’t hesitate to open it, this time actually positioning yourself on the bed and grabbing out one of the thickest makeup brushes you have on hand, wetting it with your mouth and slowly teasing your entrance before pushing it inside. The video starts and your fingers abruptly move to turn up the volume. Your body instantly heats up and reacts upon the sounds you hear, and holy fuck you can clearly see the tip, and it looks fucking edible at this moment.

You cannot believe this is happening and you feel your face even heating up, is it embarrassment? You can’t tell, it may be embarrassment but hey you’re not the one sending nudes he is. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Well except the fact that you’re masturbating to a video of him.

You hear your name and in a click of a button, your stomach tightens and your back arches, your hand moves faster to insert the back of the makeup brush further inside your thirsty pussy as you chase your orgasm. Even when the brush was cold and it practically didn’t feel like skin nor had the size of an actual dick but it was enough for you to let go.

Your chest heaves and your legs shut tightly around your hand and the video still plays on your phone that’s still nesting in your other hand, your eyes locked onto the screen afraid that you can’t see the same shot anymore when you swipe away.

The last bit of self control of you finally washes into your body and you swipe away, you can’t deny you immediately regret but you had to swipe away at some point.

2:35 | KTH:

I thought I’d hear u cum but I didn’t L

Your body stiffens and you immediately get up onto your feet, the makeup brush slips out of your vagina down onto the floor and you rush to see through the peephole and immediately cover your mouth with your hand when you see him standing there on his phone, leaned against your door and still texting you. Your hand that’s holding your phone is leaned against the door so with every text he send it vibrates and the entire door vibrates with it which makes him look at the peephole from his side.

And holy fuck at this point you’re terrified. Luckily your room is dark and he can’t see anything, but he knows you’re watching him. You rush to grab your pants and put them back on and get under your blanket. As if he’s going to open the door at any second and hurt you.

You shut your eyes tightly trying to avoid looking at your phone screen but you eventually do.

2:38 | KTH:

Sent you 9 messages.

The door to your room knocks and you actually gasp, covering your mouth again but the entire floor was so quiet and empty that if a needle fell everyone would hear it.

You get up onto your feet and put on a jacket to cover yourself even when your pajama wasn’t revealing at all, you just put your jacket on for protection. You look through the peephole one last time before you open up and he almost stumbles because he leaned his entire body weight against the door. “Hey, I thought you’d never open.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” You hug your jacket closer to your chest and cross your arms, “What’s up?” He asks with a smirk on his face as he walks inside your room and closes the door behind him, “So what did it feel like?”

“Hmm?” You open the mini fridge and grab water out for yourself to take a few sips. He chuckles and puts his hands into his pockets. “Y/N baby, I know your body more than you do. Your face has the afterglow and you’re not breathing regularly, and your lips are blood red. What did it feel like when you made yourself cum to the video?”

“Taehyung I—“

“What did you like the most? The sounds or your name actually being called when I’m jerking off to you?” He plops down on your bed and throws his phone down on the nightstand.

“I’m not breathing regularly because you’re over here past midnight spying on my door.” You sit across the room, maintaining a good amount of space between you two. “And please don’t call me baby, I’m not your baby.”

He rolls his eyes and huffs. “We’re just chatting, trust me I’m not going to touch you if you don’t give me your consent I promise, besides I-- Hey, what’s that?”

His eyes land on the makeup brush that’s dropped down onto your floor, and the glistening tip is what caught his attention. “What do you mean, this is a makeup brush.” You rush to stand up and run towards it but he’s faster than you are, he picks it up from the floor and a smirk sits on his face, fuck he even grabs it closer to smell it and he knows what this smell is. But yours was sweeter and truly different from other smells.

“Would you look at that.” He scoffs. “A makeup brush? Really?”

“Stop.” You bite onto your own teeth and you approach him to snatch it away, but again he’s faster. He licks the tip of the brush once and smacks his tongue into his mouth before swallowing. “Mm.”

Your entire body freezes when you watch him savor it, he licks  the tip of the brush clean with his eyes closed, you thought your body would react to it but none, you’re standing there stiff right before him when he gets up onto his feet. He opens his eyelids and his gaze meets yours, his pair of tight sleepy eyes gazing right through yours. “You taste heavenly.” He grabs your hand and puts the brush into it before leaving your room and closing the door behind him. The second you hear  the auto lock on the door you drop down to your bed with the brush in your hand.

Trails of his saliva are visible on the end of it and you cannot help but pull it closer to your mouth and lick it after him. You’re fucked.

You wake up the morning after wishing you could forget what happened last night. You’re pretty sure you’re embarrassed and ashamed at the fact that you got caught. You didn’t want this to happen to begin with, how are you supposed to look at him when you have to spend the entire day with him?

You pack your handbag and hand it to the hotel staff, you’re going straight from the stadium to the airport so you had to be ready and they took your bag to load the bus with the rest of the luggage.

“I don’t get it, we left the hotel at the same time, he’s supposed to be here.” Mira whines. The entire staff was ready and he wasn’t there yet. “The sound check is in less than an hour—“

“We know the schedule Mira, please just Shush.” You woke up on the wrong side of the bed and you weren’t ready to hear any whining, “Yeah Mira. I’m here give yourself a break.” Taehyung walks from behind you and gets seated onto the chair. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Mira alone responds and proceeds to blow dry his hair while you take out your kit and completely ignore the man seated on the chair in front of you.

He’s trying to look at you sneakily but he’s keeping his promise, no one is going to know anything so he’s not going to be doing anything suspicious to the rest of the staff. “Are you feeling better today?” He asks politely.

“Me?” You point to yourself unsure if he’s talking to you, and he blinks his eyes in a “Yes.” Before speaking. “You weren’t feeling well when I saw you in the elevator last night.”

“Yeah, she didn’t join us for dinner, are you feeling well?” Leah asks while she’s working on Seokjin’s hair.

“Oh yes, I went to bed early and I’m doing well today.” You force a smile on your face and grab out the little bag that had all your makeup brushes.  That brush is the first thing you see when you open the tiny purse and it reminds you in case you forgot, that you were caught masturbation last night.

“You can start Y/N. I need to get a new bottle of hairspray from downstairs.” Mira puts her stuff down and walks away leaving you to work on Taehyung’s face.

“Can I ask you something?” He looks around before whispering and you answer him right away. “Nope.” Which makes him pout. You roll your eyes and start dabbing primer onto his face. “What do you want?”

“Did you really throw away the thing I got you?”

“Well, I’m planning to.” You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue, he shrugs and whispers. “What you did yesterday would feel ten times better if you actually use the gift.”

“I don’t do butt stuff Taehyung.” You argue right away, still low enough for only you two to hear. He looks at you while squinting his eyes. “Who said anything about butt stuff?”

“You sent me a butt plug, don’t try and act oblivious, the gift didn’t send itself.” You grab his chin to throw his head back. “Silly, it wasn’t a butt plug, it was a vibrator.”

His face is right there you can easily slap him and make a scene, it’ll cost you your job but who cares.

“Don’t look  at me like that.” He scoffs. “Text me when you get home tonight I’ll show you how to use it.”

“I know how a vibrator works Taehyung thank you. Now would you stop moving I can’t blend the concealer well.” You try hard to change the topic, but the idiot grabs your purse of makeup brushes and takes out that brush and hands it to you. “Here, I think this one will do.”

Your gaze meets his for a couple seconds before he looks down at your lips and bites his own, totally imagining your lips swollen from all the kissing, the picture of you choking onto his dick that he drew in his head is now chasing him whenever he lays his eyes onto you.

Maybe you being mean to him made him actually want to have you more than before, you’re unlike them, other girls from your staff didn’t even think twice before hooking up with him. But you being a tough cookie made him ready to beg just to be with you even if it was just once.

[supercap2319]

Y/N: "Nate had made a long mental checklist of the things he liked and disliked about women. He liked tennis skirts and jean cut-offs, but not the kind so short you could see the pockets. He liked ballet flats and heels. He hated sneakers and dress shoes. But was fine with sandals as long as they were worn with a fresh pedicure. He liked thigh gaps, hated cankles. He liked tan lines, long necks, slender shoulders. He liked good posture and fruit-scented body mist. He liked full lips, and small noses. He liked chokers, but the lacy ones with flower cutouts or delicate patterns. He hated girls who sat like boys, talked like boys, acted like boys. But there was nothing on planet Earth he hated more than body hair.

But there was something else that Nate loved, just wouldn't admit to himself. Nate Jacobs was a dick man. He secretly loved dicks, especially in the locker room. He secretly liked seeing his teammates walking about being naked... ...how they'd talk to him with their dicks hanging out. He made a concerted effort to always maintain eye contact during these exchanges. Every now and then, he'd forget, and accidentally catch a glimpse of someone's penis."

[archive-z]

curating reading lists (without social media)

a guide to finding stuff to read, for @divorceblogger. this is a guide specifically for avoiding things like goodreads/storygraph etc which aggregate books that are popular without being all that helpful for finding things on niche/specialist topics.

a bit of housekeeping before getting to the actual list-making tips:

i mostly read nonfiction targeted at both academic and popular audiences. i also read a mixture of classic lit, genre fiction, zines & conceptual/artists’ books, and playtexts & poetry. i read traditional print books, non-traditional print publications, PDF and ePub ebooks on an iPad/iPhone, and listen to audiobooks and audio dramas.

i have a infinite number of books i want to read. the discovery process of new & interesting outstrips my capacity to read them all, so i have to be extremely selective. this also means i never tolerate a book i’m not enjoying. it can have weak points, but i have to be getting something out of the experience, or else i am wasting my one wild n precious life, ya feel?

my goal is to read for quality, not for quantity. i tend to dislike a lot of online reading communities for their focus on metrics (number of books, page count, word count, etc). i bristle at tools that try to push my reading into this direction. i have a reading practice, in the same sense that one would have an artistic practice. thinking of my reading as a practice — rather than a project, a thing to be completed and checked off the checklist — helps orient me towards patterns of thinking that serve me better

i work in the arts industry, so fiction and non-fiction books are reference tools. when I finish reading a book, I put it back on the shelf, like returning a tool to the toolbox until it is time to use it again. i live in a bachelor flat, so obvs i have to resist the incessant pressures of consumerism, but it doesn’t bother me that i have not read every book that i own. they are there for when i get to them. similarly, i would not be bothered by owning a kitchen fire extinguisher that i have not used.

where do I keep my reading lists?

Obsidian: for organising to-read lists on specific topics, genres, eras, locations, etc. i repeat books across multiple lists where appropriate. i don’t keep a single master list of everything I want to read because it would simply be too unwieldy to manage. Small focused lists of no more than ~25 books on the topic are best, imo.

TinyCat: for cataloguing physical books that i own. i have a shortcut to the website on my phone so i can easily pull it up if i can’t remember what books in a series i already have. i can tag anything unread with my “antilibrary” tag. for my own amusement, i also insert library pockets and circulation cards into my books and stamp them with the date completed (using my beloved rotary date stamp). i can also stamp the date a friend who borrowed the book completed it. i like seeing the signatures add up over time.

Zotero: for academic bibliographic citations. useful habit to get into if you transcribe lots of quotes from yr readings into yr notes.

how do i develop my reading lists?

i usually develop my reading lists through a combination of concerted effort to research a topic & ambient browsing. this isn’t Abt How to rigorously conduct research though so im gonna focus more on ~letting books organically find me~

when i have a book that i enjoy, i see if the author has written any more books on topics that interest me. incredibly basic 101 advice but somehow people still miss this one.

check the bibliographies & acknowledgements. if something comes up in bibliography after bibliography, its usually a good sign its worth checking out. also, authors usually thank other authors in their acknowledgements, its a great way to start building an idea

i love when artists talk abt their influences in interviews, like this interview abt what influences and easter eggs there are in disco elysium (i screamed at the Einstürzende Neubauten reveal!!!). i love when fans come up with their own reading lists for media, like my list speculating what daniel molloy would have read and watched in 1973.

when i am travelling somewhere i try to read something related to the to place I am going. Wikipedia is a first easy point of reference to find out if yr destination is famous for being the birthplace of X poet or Y film is set there.

tertiary sources. secondary sources are about a primary source, whereas tertiary sources aim to provide an overview of the major debates in those secondary sources on a specific topic rather than to generate their own new ideas/arguments. the oxford university press “a very short introduction” series varies in quality but its often a very useful starting point.

recs from friends/gifts. my loved ones know i like books, and books are usually a cheap & easy gift for holidays & special occasions. i gift books that i want to read myself, so we can talk abt the book together.

what physical locations do I browse?

Local library, university library. You might be even be able to get a specialist library card to an archive or museum reading room. Some public libraries also have special collections like the Seattle Zine Library.

For-sale section in the local library. proceeds usually go to supporting the library

local secondhand bookshop. there are several in walking distance, i usually hit them up quarterly, especially as i gift a lot of secondhand books

local independent bookshops. several local independent bookstores host an annual bookstore crawl where if you get a stamp from all of them in one weekend u enter a draw to win $1000 gift card :)

thrift store/charity shop/antique markets. there is usually a section with books even if the main focus is clothes/furniture

book events. author talks, staged readings of new plays, poetry readings, book/lit mag launch parties, Writers Festivals, small/independent press fair, rare book fair, zine fests, international library day, conferences

bookshelves at house parties. im 100% the person checking out yr bookshelf at a house party. great place to get yr flirt on.

travel. basically any new place im going, i look-up in advance the local library, second hand bookstores, charity shops, antiques stores etc. and save them in my maps on my phone. if i can conveniently pop into one while im there, neat! i particularly like municipal libraries bc the big ones are usually architecturally interesting (like the Vancouver Public Library) and the small ones are usually really charming and full of specific local history, leaflets to interesting local stuff, etc.

what online locations do I browse?

navigating the online catalogue to yr local & academic libraries is a whole skill unto itself. i was very fortunate be born in the late 90s and to have a specific local librarian teach me boolean operators before i could tie my shoelaces, ride a bike, or, frankly, do most human being things (shoutout to Miss T yr a real one). your library very likely has something like a workshop or at the very least a help desk that can help u with this if needed.

mailing lists of small/independent presses.

publishers websites (academic and general audience).

wikipedia. u can look at the footnotes section on wikipedia. its free. its legal.

looking up university syllabi. some are on profs’ websites, some are available through the university library. there is also the Open Syllabus website which aggregates the most often mentioned books in submitted syllabi, organised by discipline or through a visual map.

what’s available on libby/borrowbox.

Archive dot org and google books/google scholar to read the previews and judge if the book is worth following up on.

i didn’t actually include any selections of my personal reading lists, but if you would like to know more you can always shoot me an ask with a specific topic in mind.

[angelcent]

ABOUT A GIRL・❥・S. GOJO

from an old ask: how do we feel about tattoist!gojo?! and your first tattoo being done by him. contains. tattoo artist gojo, tattoo virgin reader, grungepunk!gojo, fluff

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı — about a girl / nirvana

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo is constantly recommended by people because he's known for several things: his pure attention to detail, his versatility in tattoo styles, how light his hand is, and how comfortable he makes his clients feel. he can be a little overwhelming and intimidating, though.

✧˚ · . unlike suguru who can be a bit pretentious and internally judgmental about his clients choices, tattoist!gojo really doesn't care as long as it's not something too offensive.

✧˚ · . his studio is decorated with an assortment of movie & concert prints, as well as pictures he's taken with suguru and shoko or their other friends. at the front desk is his ugly clay coffee mug that megumi made for him as a child that he now uses to store pens. it has a lot of personality and makes you feel at ease when you walk through the doors and fill out your paper work.

✧˚ · . when you first meet satoru, he doesn't take much notice of you because he doesn't want you to feel leered at; it's a common occurance for male tattooists to make others uncomfortable; and you're trusting him with such a vulnerable process, so satoru keeps his distance. keeps it professional.

✧˚ · . as it's your first time, he gives you a rundown of the entire process and is honest—blunt—about the pain you'll experience, but also reassures you that you'll be okay. "anyway, don't give that much though," he grins, absently twirling his pen. as if he hadn't just almost frightened you out of the door. "I'll take good care of you, hm? leave it to me." and he says it with such self assured confidence, that it completely eases your nerves.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo texts you a checklist in order to prepare for your appointment—what clothing is best, possible snacks to bring (water is provided), an on-call friend in case you want to be picked up, and oddly, what music you like?

✧˚ · . whatever is your music type is, you walk into his space on the day of your first session with it softly playing inside the shop. tattoist!gojo is talkative; walking you through his entire sanitation process and the tools he'll be using. unbeknownst to you, satoru is observant in his daily life and in his profession. he quickly caught the way your shoulders were drawn up with nerves, how you wiped the palm of your hand over your thigh. and the more you hear him talk, the more relaxed your body language becomes. it's why he does it.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo in an old washed out band shirt again. it's what he always wears, and most belong to suguru. his best friend has given up on his clothes being stolen after so many years.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo just as talkative when he's finally putting ink on your skin, and it surprisingly keeps your mind off the pain. sometimes you tune him out, but the rumble of his attractive voice keeps you grounded. satoru will talk about anything and everything. he tells you about his first tattoo—three eyes behind his ears on each side. six in total. and how he got them done at this small punk show when he was sixteen and egged on by his best friend.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo has ink all over his visible skin— arms, neck, you even catch a peek of more inked skin below the collar of his t-shirt when he leans down. what's cute is all the small doodles in the empty spaces between the bigger pieces, and he tells you how he did most of them himself whenever he's bored. some are done by friends, like a small happy face near his knuckle from haibara.

✧˚ · . as much as he tries to keep this professional though, satoru slowly becomes attracted to you over the course of your session. he rarely hits it off with someone so well, and he finds himself listening intently to every piece of information you give him about yourself.

✧˚ · . he can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but you either call him out on it or bite back. he loves that.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo is great at calling to check up on your healing, giving you reminders on how to maintain it until the next session. he can't help but want to hear your voice, so he calls instead of texting or emailing like he usually does. you don't know any better, though. works in his favor.

✧˚ · . on your last session, tattoist!gojo is filled with the pride that never gets old at seeing the piece almost finished. what was once a mere idea is now brought to life and forever inked on your pretty skin. and you seem excited about it as well.

"see, not so bad now, was it?" he hums, wiping at the final touches. he doesn't bother to fight back the smirk. "told you I'm the best." "hm, you're alright. I guess." you tease, chuckling when he immediately looks up at you looking like a kicked puppy. "I'm kidding. thank you, satoru. really. I'm already thinking of what to get next, actually." if he were a dog, his ears would be perked up. tail wagging. he almost wants to barf.

"yeah? you sure you're not just saying that cause you'll miss seeing me?" he jokes, but deep down he's hoping you'll want him to remain as your future artist. even if that's the only way he'll keep seeing you, he'll take it. he's enjoyed far too much the way you make him feel wanted. "maybe I am." you murmur. swallowing your pride, you let the words spill out of your mouth. "but what if I wanted to see you sooner? you said I should go to your friends show this weekend. it'll be my first time, so it'd help to have you there." as soon as the words come out of your mouth, you're already regretting being so bold. satoru is just a friendly guy, he obviously just wanted his friend to get support and probably says that to everyone. so you backtrack immediately. "b-but if you can't or don't want to it's okay! sorry I just—" "'course I want to, buttercup. heh, I said I'll take good care of you, remember?" he laughs a little too loudly, quickly looking down at your finished piece. he wipes at the clean skin, pretending like he's working but he's just hiding his reddened cheeks. he hopes the crack in his voice was only audible to him. doesn't want you to see what a loser he is and how much you affect him.

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Group 6

Propaganda:

Kiriwo -

"Seems innocent at first and he's just a guy with a special interest in magic items, but watch out."

Arjuna -

"MASKING KING!!!!!! ok joke aside one of his biggest things is that he's super scared that if anyone gets too close to him they'll notice he's not perfect/has a 'secret darkness' (that's literally just a guy) and overall a lot of his storyline is a strong parallel for being neurodivergent and becoming more comfortable with accepting it. he's also super strict and hard on himself for any sort of failure that isn't in line with what's socially appropriate but at the same time he doesn't always have a good grasp on what that is which is how you get stuff like him blowing up a forest to try and impress someone. it also runs in his family bc his brother is autistic as hell too."

Sherlock -

"God, where do I start? I mean what Holmes adaptation, even if he's not the main character, would this be if he were not autistic coded? And our combo of autism and ADHD is absolute perfection, all tied up with a pretty, excitable face. Hit him with the crime hyperfixation and do not make him wear socks."

Apollo -

"Not canonically autistic but he has ZERO volume control plus he scripts/repeats stuff (“I’M FINE!!!”), sometimes mimics other people’s speech patterns (like replying “ja” to Klavier), sensitive to loud noises (stayed backstage at a concert cuz it was too loud) and bright lights (complained about the stage lights being too bright at the same concert + screamed when opening the hatch to the bright stage at magic show), and has been really into space since he was a kid, which could definitely be a hyperfixation (not to mention how he read every single one of Phoenix’s old case files back when he admired him). Plus he’s a little TOO normal, to the point where it circles back around to making him the odd one out, which is absolutely what masking feels like for me. Even when he tries to be fun and weird he gets strange looks/made fun of for not being weird in the right way. The list of autism symptoms is just a checklist for him at this point."

Heiji -

"90% of the cast in detective conan is autistic but heiji is the most autistic of them all."

Urara -

"Another alien who is so excited to dance with everyone that he does not understand that his intended purpose of inviting people to dance via water communication is brainwashing them into dancing and is causing extreme chaos. He nearly causes an apocalypse by being so excited about dancing but he apologizes and tries to make friends with Yuki at the end of the story. He is extremely soft spoken and try, finding it difficult to begin conversations and fidgeting."

Shu -

"speaking specifically about the first season but he was the "explains everything so the audience knows whats happening" guy. he was pretty antisocial (not sure if thats just how he was or if he lived alone [which was fucked up cause he was 11]) . im trying to think of more but my brain goes hghghhhggggh im just a big fan of him."

Vash -

"ain’t no way i’m the only one who’s submitted him. go look at the gif of him crawling in the dirt like a bug while he dodges bullets and get back to me."

Hyakkimaru -

"Due to a terrible curse he has lived his whole life without several body parts including his eyes and ears. Because of this he is often overstimulated and awkward in new situations (when he doesn't do what he does best, killing monsters and samurai with his sword arms) He can't say or express much, and often comes off as strange and creepy, but he is actually a cutie patootie full of emotions, has a big heart, a keen brain, endless inner strength and loves the people close to him! This adorable, cursed, demon slaying boy deserves everything!"

Kei -

"He has the tbh face. Also he canonically has sensory issues and gets sensory overload. He constantly wears earbuds. He has an extremely rigid sense of morality and considers himself a savior figure. He has a hard time relating to other people and is a bit awkward in his interactions."

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

6. Year-end spectacular

Note: Happy weekends! Enjoy more fluff!

Masterlist here

It had been a few months since Y/n first stepped into his role as aespa’s manager and also moved in with them. He’d gotten better, that much was certain.

Gone were the days of fumbling through schedules or confusing rehearsal rooms. He’d learned the ropes, built a system that worked for him, and even earned a few nods of approval from the girls—Karina’s hesitant trust, Winter’s playful banter, and even Giselle and Ningning’s constant teasing had become part of his daily life.

Comparing to his first few days, it was as clear as day and night.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for MAMA. The year-end show was on an entirely different level.

Whereas rehearsals, smaller concerts, and fan events had become routine, MAMA was like stepping into the lion’s den. The venue was massive, the expectations were higher, and the backstage atmosphere was a chaotic whirlwind of artists, staff, and equipment moving at lightning speed. Every second mattered. Every detail could be the difference between a flawless performance and a career-defining disaster.

Y/n stood at the venue’s loading dock, eyes wide as the scene unfolded in front of him. Trucks were unloading equipment, stage props were being wheeled in by frantic staff, and idols were practicing last-minute routines in every available corner of the building. It was overwhelming. He had faced difficult moments before, but this was a whole new ball game. His nerves, which had subsided in recent weeks, surged back with a vengeance.

"You good?" Winter’s voice broke through his thoughts. She was standing beside him, her arms crossed and a slight smirk on her lips, as if sensing his nervousness.

Y/n gave her a shaky smile. "Yeah, just...taking it all in."

Winter chuckled softly, nudging his shoulder. "Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Just don’t pass out on us."

"Bet you 5k won I will," Y/n said, and the knot in his stomach confirmed his losing bet.

It wasn’t just the scale of the event that was getting to him. It was the fact that this was their biggest performance of the year—the kind of showcase that could make or break aespa’s place at the top of the industry. All eyes would be on them, and Y/n knew that, as the manager, a lot of the responsibility fell on his shoulders.

If anything went wrong, it would reflect on him.

He had been improving, yes. But MAMA was an entirely different beast. Could he handle it?

-

The atmosphere at the MAMA Year-End Showcase was electric. The lights, the screams from fans, the high energy—it was the kind of event that brought out the best in every artist.

He stood backstage, clutching his clipboard as though his life depended on it. The pressure was suffocating, and the chaos that ensued backstage only made things worse.

"Y/n, where are the backup costumes?!" one of the stylists ran up to him, her voice laced with panic. Y/n’s eyes widened as he quickly skimmed through the checklist.

"Backup costumes…" he muttered under his breath, flipping page after page. But the backup costumes were nowhere to be found on the list.

His heart sank. Of all the things to mess up on, it had to be this.

"Uh, I’ll figure it out!" Y/n called over his shoulder as he dashed towards the costume storage room. He could hear the hum of excitement growing louder as other groups prepared to go on stage. The countdown to aespa’s performance was ticking down, and he was nowhere near ready.

As he reached the storage room, Y/n’s heart pounded in his chest. His mind raced, trying to figure out where he could’ve gone wrong. Where were the damn costumes?

That’s when Karina appeared, calm as ever. She surveyed the chaos with a raised eyebrow before walking over to a stack of boxes labeled incorrectly.

"These?" she asked, pulling out the missing costumes effortlessly.

Y/n blinked, staring at the box in disbelief. "How did you—?"

"They were mislabeled," Karina explained, her voice calm but assertive. "It happens. Don’t stress."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Karina’s cool demeanour helped settle Y/n’s nerves. She was so… composed. It was hard to believe this was the same girl who had been skeptical of him just months ago. Before he could respond, Winter entered the room, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You look like you’re about to pass out," Winter teased, her voice filled with playful sarcasm. “And I’ll get my free money.”

Y/n shot her a tired look. "Tsk, this girl…”

Winter chuckled and clapped him on the back. "Relax. We’ve got this. You’re making this a bigger deal than it is."

"Easy for you to say," Y/n muttered under his breath. "You’re not the one in charge of making sure everything runs smoothly."

Winter smirked. "We’ve been through worse. Trust me, this is nothing."

With Karina taking charge of the wardrobe situation and Winter wrangling the crew, Y/n found himself watching in awe. They were naturals under pressure, far more used to handling chaos than he was. Slowly but surely, they were piecing everything together. The clock was still ticking down, but somehow, the group had everything under control.

-

The lead-up to the performance was a blur. Y/n was juggling multiple tasks—coordinating with the production team, finalizing the setlist with the crew, and ensuring the girls were ready for hair and makeup. He had a checklist in his hand, his pen furiously scribbling down last-minute changes as staff members darted around him.

"Y/n, we need the final lighting cues for the stage!" someone from the production crew called out.

"Give me two minutes," he responded, already flipping through the pages of his clipboard. He was proud of how much better he’d gotten at handling these situations, but as more people approached him with urgent requests, he could feel the pressure building.

To make things more intense, the backstage area was filled with other groups—many of whom Y/n recognised from his trainee days. Some of the NCT members were hanging around, joking and laughing as they warmed up for their own performance. He could feel their eyes on him as he rushed by, no longer the fellow trainee they used to know, but now aespa’s manager. It was a surreal feeling, knowing that they probably remembered him as the kid who was training alongside them just a few years ago.

"Yo, Y/n!" one of them called out as he passed by, causing him to stop in his tracks.

He turned to see Jaehyun from NCT giving him a nod and a grin. "You surviving back here?"

"I need ICU, hyung!!," Y/n laughed, rubbing his face in agony. "This is way more intense than I thought!"

Jaehyun chuckled. "It’s impressive, man! You got this!"

"You're killing it, hyung!"

"Slayy!"

Y/n appreciated the words, but he didn’t have time to let them sink in. As much as he would’ve liked to catch up with his former trainee mates, the clock was ticking, and the pressure was mounting. He gave them a quick peace and hurried back to his duties.

-

Y/n watched from the side of the stage as aespa stepped onto the platform, the deafening cheers of the crowd echoing throughout the arena. The stage lights dimmed, and for a moment, everything was still.

Then, in an explosion of colour and sound, the girls began their performance.

The opening line of "Trick or trick" from Ningning blasted through the speakers, and Y/n’s breath caught in his throat. He had seen them practice a hundred times, but there was something different about watching them perform at MAMA. The sheer energy, the intensity in their movements, the way they commanded the stage—it was mesmerising.

The transition to "Drama" got him really excited. (It was his most listened song this year)

He glanced up at the massive screens displaying their every move. Karina’s sharp dance lines, Giselle’s flawless rap delivery, Winter’s vocals soaring effortlessly, and Ningning’s charisma radiating out to the audience—it all felt surreal. The fans were losing their minds, screaming every lyric, and Y/n couldn’t help but feel proud. His chest swelled with admiration.

Don’t even mention about the outfit because they all look so good.

For a brief moment, he forgot about the chaos backstage. He wasn’t thinking about the costumes or the props or the miscommunications. All that mattered was the performance happening in front of him. It was awe-inspiring.

They’re really something else.

When the final note hit, the arena erupted into a wave of applause. The lights dimmed, and aespa exited the stage, sweat glistening on their skin but smiles plastered on their faces. As they walked back toward Y/n, he felt an overwhelming sense of relief and pride wash over him.

"We nailed it," Ningning grinned, giving him a fist bump as she passed by.

"Thanks for not losing the costumes," Karina added, her voice remained stern but there was a moment tease cracked through.

Y/n chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Don’t remind me, Jimin."

-

The adrenaline high didn’t last long. Once they were backstage, the post-performance chaos hit in full force. The props for their next segment were missing, and there was a miscommunication with the lighting crew, who had already moved on to the next group. Panic spread quickly through the staff, and Y/n found himself at the centre of the storm once again.

"What do we do?" someone from the production team asked, their voice filled with urgency.

Before Y/n could even open his mouth to answer, Karina stepped in, her calm presence immediately commanding attention. "Winter and I will go look for the missing props. Y/n—" she pointed at Y/n, "—talk to the lighting team. Make sure they’re ready to switch back to us for the encore."

Y/n nodded, still in awe of how quickly Karina had taken control of the situation. Despite the chaos, there was a strange sense of calm in the air. With the group pulling together, everything seemed less overwhelming.

After a frantic few minutes of running around, Y/n managed to communicate with the lighting crew. Meanwhile, Winter and Karina returned with the missing props just in time for the encore.

When the show finally ended and the curtain fell, Y/n felt like he could finally breathe. The performance had gone off without a hitch—well, at least from the audience’s perspective. Backstage had been a whirlwind, but they had pulled through.

As the girls gathered in their dressing room, laughter filled the air. Giselle threw herself onto the couch, exhausted but smiling. "That was insane. I can’t believe we made it through."

"Yeah, thanks to Jimin-unnie saving the day," Winter teased, elbowing Karina playfully.

Y/n chuckled as he entered the dressing room, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Yeah, we would've been done for if it weren't for you, Jimin."

Karina shrugged, a modest smile on her face. "It's all part of the job. We're a team, right?"

Ningning, sitting cross-legged on the couch, chimed in with a cheeky grin. "And here I thought Y/n was going to have a heart attack backstage."

"Close call," Y/n admitted, collapsing into one of the empty chairs. "I really thought my life flashed before my eyes when the props went missing."

"But you didn’t," Giselle pointed out, still smiling. "You kept it together and got it done. That's what matters."

Y/n nodded, taking in the words of encouragement. He'd survived his first MAMA show—and barely at that. But seeing the girls relaxed, joking, and satisfied with their performance made all the stress worth it. In the grand scheme of things, he realized that no matter how chaotic things got behind the scenes, they had each other's backs. It was a team effort, both on and off the stage.

Suddenly, Winter threw a towel at him. "So, how does it feel to officially manage your first big event, idiot?"

Y/n caught the towel with a laugh. "Exhausting. But honestly?..." He looked at each of the girls, his expression softening. "I’m proud of you all. That performance was incredible."

"We’re proud of you too," Karina said, her tone more serious. "We know how much pressure you’ve been under. You handled it well, Y/n."

The sincerity in her words caught him off guard. After all, Y/n was still relatively new to this—he hadn’t even hit the one-year mark as their manager. But hearing them, especially from Karina, say they were proud of him meant more than he could put into words.

"You guys made it easier," he finally said, smiling. "I’m lucky to manage a group like aespa."

Ningning’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned forward. "Aww, is our manager getting emotional on us?"

"Oh shush, this child" Y/n admitted, earning laughs from everyone in the room.

-

After the whirlwind of MAMA, Y/n was exhausted beyond words. He had just dropped the girls off at their dorm and had one thing on his mind: go home, collapse in bed, and not think about work for at least twelve hours. But as soon as he sat in the van, ready to drive away, his phone buzzed.

Message from the organisers at MAMA:

"Hi, sorry to burst your peace, but please send over the report on the MAMA showcase tonight. We do need it urgently"

Y/n groaned, his head hitting the steering wheel. Of course, the day wasn’t done yet. He stared at his laptop bag on the passenger seat, feeling his last ounce of energy drain away. As much as he wanted to head up with everyone, he just wanted to get this done quickly before winding down. So, he decided to just stay parked outside the dorm and work from the van.

He set up his laptop, trying to get comfortable in the driver's seat. Typing in a cramped space wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing. The glow of the laptop lit up the van as he began typing the report, each keystroke feeling like a Herculean task.

Just when Y/n was finally getting into the flow, a sudden knock on his window startled him. He turned to see Giselle, grinning mischievously despite wearing her mask, peeking through the window.

Saying that his heart jumped out was light in comparison to his reaction.

“What are you still doing in there?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled by the glass.

"Girlie, I thought I was going to be mobbed…" Y/n sighed.

"Tsk. But seriously, what are you doing here?"

Y/n rolled the window down with a sigh. “Finishing up the MAMA report. Why?”

Giselle raised an eyebrow, glancing at the glowing screen. “In the van?”

“Won't make it in time if I wash up,” he admitted, leaning back in his seat. “Plus, it’s quiet in here.”

Giselle stared at him for a second, then crossed her arms. “You're not finishing it up here. Get inside.”

“What? Aeri, I wasn’t planning to—"

“Too late. I’ve decided,” she interrupted, already turning on her heel toward the building. “Hurry up, manager-nim. We'll order take out for tonight”

Y/n blinked after her, dumbfounded. "B-but-"

A minute later, Giselle sent him a text:

"You’re getting up now, mister. We’re not letting you work and accidentally sleep in the car like some stray. Karina will actually kill you if you don't come up in 5 mins."

Y/n groaned but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. He packed up his laptop, locked the van, and begrudgingly made his way toward the dorm. As he entered the building, he was greeted by a lounging Winter and Ningning, sprawled out on the couch, half-watching some drama on TV.

“Well, look who’s finally ready to join us,” Ningning smirked as Y/n entered the living room. “Aeri-unnie said you were trying to camp out in the car to finish up sudden work?”

Y/n shrugged, his fatigue hitting him like a wave. “I was just trying to finish the report before getting up.”

“Eh…they will understand if you fell asleep,” Winter said with a playful grin. “Idiot. Just do it tomorrow."

Without waiting for permission, Y/n collapsed onto the couch, his body sinking into the cushions like it was made of clouds. “Fine. But don’t mess with me while I’m asleep. I know how you guys are.”

He was reminded by the pranks these 3 did to him throughout the months. A combo of wasabi Russian roulette, scare prank, and the recent doodle incidents wasn’t easy to counter back.

“No promises,” Giselle called from the kitchen, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

As Y/n finally got comfortable, Giselle tossed him a blanket. “Rest up, manager-nim. But be warned: We get up early.”

Y/n mumbled something unintelligible, already half-asleep. His body was so exhausted that he didn’t care where he was as long as he could sleep.

-

Y/n stirred from his sleep, but something felt… off. He blinked his eyes open and immediately noticed two things: one, he was lying in the most uncomfortable position imaginable, and two, he was covered in sticky notes.

Again. At this point, Y/n forfeited.

Each one had a doodle or ridiculous comment scribbled on it.

"World’s Sleepiest Manager (and the Best)."

"Nice nap, huh?"

"Don't forget the MAMA report!"

"You're as stressed as Karina!"

"Please don't lose us again!"

3-0 to aespa.

Groaning, Y/n peeled off the notes, feeling the stiffness in his neck from sleeping awkwardly on the couch. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked around the room. Winter was sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping a cup of coffee and smirking at him.

“Morning,” she greeted, still trying her best to hold it in.

“Morning…” Y/n muttered, still groggy.

“I see the others couldn’t resist messing with you,” Winter chuckled, motioning to the now-empty living room. “They’ve already gone out for schedules. Red Velvet’s manager-unnie drove them there instead. You’re stuck with me for now.”

Y/n sighed as he stretched, feeling every sore muscle in his body. “Why didn’t anyone wake me?”

Winter raised an eyebrow. “You were dead to the world. Plus, we figured you needed the rest after yesterday.”

Y/n glanced down at the pile of sticky notes in his lap. “Yeah, clearly.”

Winter grinned as she got up and handed him a cup of coffee. “Here, drink this. You’ve got a long day ahead.”

Y/n took the coffee gratefully, but as he sipped it, Winter’s expression softened. “You’re doing good, you know?”

Y/n looked at her, surprised by the sudden sincerity in her voice. “…Jeong. It’s morning and you’re scaring me.”

Winter shrugged. “You’ve been thrown into the deep end, but you’re managing. And, you know, it’s kind of nice having someone who’s been around… well, me, at least, for so long.”

A nostalgic smile crept onto her face, and Y/n couldn’t help but smile back. He had known Winter since they were trainees, and despite the chaos of the past few weeks, there was a strange sense of comfort in their friendship. It was like old times, just in a completely different world.

“Thanks,” Y/n said quietly, feeling the weight of her words. “That means a lot.”

Winter settled onto the couch beside him, nudging his shoulder. "And you’re still the same guy I knew back then, always falling asleep in the weirdest places."

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, and you’re still a pain in the—"

Winter playfully punched his arm. “Now, finish your coffee and clean up. You got a report to do and we’ve got dance practice later.”

Y/n groaned, but this time, it wasn’t from exhaustion. He finished his coffee, feeling slightly more energised, and started peeling off the last few sticky notes from his arms. Despite everything, he couldn’t help but smile.

Maybe being part of aespa’s chaotic circle wasn’t so bad after all.

[poraphia]

"One Tall Coffee With Cream And Sugar."

lvjy!wilbur x manager!reader 2467 words • 8.16.23 cw ~ coffee, lovejoy, large crowds, almost falling off stage, kith mwah mwah wilbur soot masterlist!

pt. 1 ~ "Four medium-sized coffees, one big fat work crush."

After this concert, it'll be all over. So here you go, Wilbur, your last morning coffee of the tour! From me, your manager <3

♡♡♡

“Order for (y/n)!”

I smiled at the barista, placing some coins in the tip jar before taking the cardboard tray of coffee in both hands. I looked down to make sure each order was perfect: one iced coffee with mocha drizzle, one small double-shot espresso, one cappuccino, and one tall coffee with cream and sugar. After ticking down my mental checklist of Lovejoy’s coffee orders, I pushed open the glass door, feeling the breeze of the LA air on my face.

Today was Lovejoy’s last tour in America.

It’s been more than two months since I’ve been with Lovejoy and their first tour around the States along with my first time serving as a on-the-road tour manager. With all good things, they must come to an end, and I’m grateful for every moment I’ve spent with the crew and the band, but what pained me the most was a certain member having to travel across seas back home.

Every moment with Wilbur felt like I was on cloud 9. Even through difficult venue scheduling and working with different states, he was always behind me to back me up. Sometimes I would notice that before going on stage, Wilbur would be hiding in the lounge room, fumbling with his fingers while pacing back and forth. “Pre-concert nerves?” I would ask. He would look at me with a worried look painted in his eyes. He would shake his head, biting on his fingernails. I would walk up to him and hug him tight, listening to his pacing heartbeat gradually slow down.

“You got this, Will. I believe in you. Everyone is going to love you, and even if you do play the wrong chord or sing a little offkey, who cares? Just keep playing because that was what you were born to do.” I would say, rubbing his back. Five minutes later you wouldn’t even think twice about that man being nervous on the stage because he was hopping around and screaming into the microphone, occasionally shooting a look at me that said “Thank you.” I smiled, reminiscing on the memories.

“Need a hand, sweetheart?” I looked up, only to be met with the chocolate eyes of Wilbur fucking Gold. There he was, opening the door for me with his guitar strapped to his back. It felt familiar. Like the first time we met. Especially with me clutching the cardboard cup that hosted all the coffee orders for the band. I smirked at him, brushing right past. The only difference was that I was at least confident enough to even talk to him.

“I’m good, Will, but thank you.” I chimed. He chuckled before catching up to me with his hands in his pockets.

“How you feeling?” He asked. I hummed a bit as we talked together through the venue.

“I guess kind of nervous? Since we set up a lot of things for the finale of the America tour. Like all the effects and all. You know what I mean?” I said. He nodded, pushing open the backstage door so I can walk through on my own. As I walked past though, he grabbed the tall coffee from its holder before taking a sip. I looked at him, giving him a lecturing face.

“What! It’s my drink!” He exclaimed, holding his hands up in defense.

“And what if it was someone else's?” I said with a joking attitude. He shrugged, walking away so that the door may close behind him. He takes another sip, savoring the taste.

“I’m really gonna miss this coffee.” He sighed.

“It’s nothing too unique, really! Isn’t this what you would order back at home?” I said, rolling my eyes. I placed the coffee on a nearby table before turning around and leaning back. My palms supported my weight as I looked at him.

“I mean yeah but—” He was placing his guitar case down, unzipping it to retrieve his guitar. “I guess it wouldn’t come from you anymore.” He said, a bit sorrowfully. Before I could respond, Mark, Ash, and Joe walk through the door, all with their respective instruments and bags in hand.

“Hey guys, is venue all ready?” Joe asked, waving at the both of us before putting down his instrument. I walked up to him with his respective coffee in hand.

“Yup. Just waiting on you guys for soundcheck, and here’s your coffee!” I said, handing it to him. Joe smiled, taking the coffee and giving it a sip.

“Thanks, (y/n), we’re gonna miss you and the crew as our team.” He praised, giving a mini-cheer with his coffee. I smiled, noticing that Mark and Ash had already gone and grabbed their own coffees. Will was standing in the corner, staring at me. I tilted my head at him. With a cheeky smile, he tilted his head as well. I chuckled a little before turning to look at the other guys.

“Okay, so you guys just need to do some sound checking which should take roughly an hour? Then an hour after that we’ll have our final gig! The team is already onset, so just hook your instruments with everything and we should be good to go.” I explained. Ash nodded, taking a sip of his coffee while holding his bass, while the rest made some voices of approval.

We all headed out on stage, and I told them where each person would be standing. Wilbur would be in the front with the mic, Joe would be somewhat to the right of him a little bit back with Ash basically the same just on the left. Then Mark would be just behind Ash with his drumset.

Everyone plugged in their instruments and began strumming random patterns just to make sure that the audio was coming coherently. The soundcheck person adjusted accordingly. I hopped off the stage and stood in the middle of the venue, making sure that the positions were as perfect as I envisioned. After a long stare, I realized that Will was a little bit off-place. “Will!” I tried to exclaim over the noise. Wilbur looked at me, and playfully, he began to strum more violently. “Wilbur!” I tried to shout again, but he simply smiled at me.

Slightly annoyed, I hopped back on the stage, now standing directly in front of him. He looked down at me with a smirk right on his face. I grabbed him by the arms before moving him into position. He leaned down, still strumming on his guitar. I chuckled.

“What’s with that look?” I asked. He hummed a bit before responding.

“Nothing, you just look cute.” He said. Suddenly he brought his face close and planted a small kiss on my nose. Flustered, I stumbled back and nearly off the stage before Will caught me by the waist. My hands were clutching tight on his collar.

“S-Sorry!” I stuttered. I was near the edge, but with Will’s support, I was nearly floating off with one leg up. In one quick swift, Wilbur pulled me up and walked backward, landing me on a safe platform for me to stand on.

“Are you okay?” He asked. He held my arms so that I maintained my balance. After I felt steady enough, I looked up at him. I felt my breath getting caught in my throat. His face was so close to mine that I just wanted to kiss him, but I didn’t have the confidence he had.

“Y-Yeah..” I mumbled, still getting lost in those eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine..” I managed to stutter out. I stood up properly and brushed myself off. Wilbur backed away to give me some space. I wish that with my sleeves I could wipe off the embarrassing flush of red that was painted all over my face. “I’m gonna take five. Just— Stay in position for me!” I ran off the stage and to the back where I grabbed a bottle of cold water to cool down.

Oh boy. This was going to be hard.

After some time, security showed up and fans started loading into the venue. The place was somewhat massive, making it one of our biggest shows (not counting festivals) yet. I peeked from the stage curtain, seeing the rows of chairs being filled with all kinds of people. I turned back around to see the band. Mark was having a beer or two, Joe was practicing a little bit of his guitar solo, and Ash was scrolling through Instagram. “Hey guys, do you know where Wilbur is?” I asked. Mark looked up.

“Oh yeah, I think he’s in the outer lounge area? He might be just tuning his guitar though.” He said, pointing at the door with his beer.

I nodded and thanked him before pushing through the door. The room was much quieter than the previous lounge. Wilbur was sat on one of the couches with his guitar in his lap, but he wasn’t strumming or turning the knobs. It more looked as if he was deep into thought. I approached him carefully, yet he didn’t notice me until after I spoke up.

“Hey, Will?” I snapped him out of his thoughts. His hands fell into gripping his guitar defensively before frantically looking at me.

“Ah, hey (y/n), sorry I was just thinking.” He said, sighing. I raised an eyebrow before sitting next to him, crossing my legs.

“Well, thinking about what?” I asked. “Just— out of curiosity. You don’t have to tell me.”

Wilbur hummed before sitting back on the couch, moving his guitar closely to his chest. “I guess just… What’s going to happen after the tour, y’know when I get home and all? I’m going to miss all this adventuring and going to different states.” His head then turned to me. He has a soft, sort of vulnerable look on his face. Like a glass of water that was full to the very top, and just one droplet could make that brimming all come cascading down like a waterfall. “I..—”

Before he could finish his sentence, both of our ear monitors went off. “Two minutes until stage time. Please prepare your places.”

I looked over to Wilbur, who seemed a bit frustrated he wasn’t able to finish his sentence, but I had to brush it off for now. I got up and helped him up as well as we both rushed backstage, back to the screaming fans, wires, and bass-boosted speakers. Wilbur found his position next to Ash as I stood in front of them.

“Alright, guys, this is our biggest show in the States yet. I want you guys to have the whole venue jumping by the time we’re done!” I exclaimed all of them cheered with words of encouragement. “And, I’d seriously like to say this has been one of the best moments of my life. I am super proud to be your guys’ tour manager. So, please! Next time you guys are in the States, message me!”

Mark rushed to hug me with a big smile on his face. “We loved touring with you too, (y/n)! Thank you seriously for all the coffee and encouragement you’ve given us!” He beamed. Maybe it was the beer loosening up his speech, but he certainly spoke with pride and excitement. Ash came in too, wrapping his arms around us, and soon joined Joe and Wilbur. It was a tender moment for us all. A core memory that is the end of the tour for Lovejoy.

It took all of our ear monitors going off to break off the little moment. Soon enough, the boys were at the edge of the curtains, waiting for their countdown to end so they can finally step on stage. Once they did, the whole venue roared in excitement. Wilbur did his usual theatrics: talking to the crowd, and introducing the band, before counting down and playing the songs we had planned. I ran around backstage for most of the time, making sure that the lighting crew knew what was doing, and talking to soundcheck to make sure everything was going, but in those rare instances when I had a break, I would look over to Wilbur from offstage.

There he was, glowing in yellow backlights as his eyes fluttered close, plucking at his guitar and singing lyrics he would spend all day and all night revising and humming. I know moments like these are captured by our hired photographers, but my eyes saw something so much more personal. If eyes could take a screenshot, I did exactly that and stored it in the safest part of my brain’s gallery.

It felt like the concert went by too fast because, in a blink of an eye, Wilbur was finishing up his last performance of The Fall. Smoke and lights illuminated him and his band’s presence on stage and before I knew it, it was all over. The crowd cheered for Wilbur's dramatic finale as he raised his guitar high in the air. Sweat dripped off his body, soaking little bits of his clothing. The song finally came to an end as the lights cut off. Nothing but the most bittersweet smile rested on my face.

The tour

Was finally over.

Or was it?

The lights faded back on with Wilbur gripping the microphone. He had given his guitar to someone backstage before they had walked off. “Crowd,” he started. “This marks the end of our United States tour, and you have brought nothing but thrill and pure adventure.” He then turned toward me. “But there’s someone who frankly was, the cherry on top of it all. You may have seen her a little bit on our social media, maybe Ash posted her on his story once or twice. Everyone please, give it up for (y/n)!”

I stood there in shock as I heard the audience chant my name. Wilbur gestured toward me, the mic still in hand. I shook my head, snapping out of my anxiousness before stepping onto the stage. Despite being the background for it all, I’ve never been in front of a crowd. This was all so… Exhilarating.

Wilbur took me by the hand, twirling me in place before placing an arm around my waist and dipping me down. “There were so many times I’ve wanted to kiss you, to tell you how much I’ll miss you, and how we won’t be by each other’s side anymore. I just… I wanted to take this moment now.” He romanced in my ear. With a wide smile on my face, I jumped up, wrapping my arms around his neck before pulling him into a kiss.

Finally, those lips that I memorized on that tour bus—

Lips that I only dreamed of kissing.

They were finally on mine.

And faintly, I could taste his morning coffee.

♡♡♡

a/n ~ hihi! the long-awaited pt.2 of a request I did a while ago! thank you guys so much for the support I really wouldn't have written it without yall <3 ilysm!

taglist ~ @mrssabinecallas @maddiegotlost @lanaxoxoxoxoxox @imcool-rat @themonsterunderurmom

[moose-mousse]

I sometimes feel very tired and alone...

I am right now requesting copies of the permits for a concert I do vulenteer work for because they had us working with polluted dirt ( lead, mercury and cyanid... yum ) and gave the wrong equipment and info to the workers...

I am also pushing my workplace to have a checklist for setting up test hardware installations that can KILL YOU instead of relying on random people around sorta remembering how to do it safely hopefully

And I keep thinking "why me. Why is it always me who have to kick and push for basic kindergarten safety while surrounded by people who have just been accepting this shit for years"

And then I quote Tiffany Aching from the Terry Pratchett books and get on with it

"All witches are selfish, the Queen had said. But Tiffany’s Third Thoughts said: Then turn selfishness into a weapon! Make all things yours! Make other lives and dreams and hopes yours! Protect them! Save them! Bring them into the sheepfold! Walk the gale for them! Keep away the wolf! My dreams! My brother! My family! My land! My world! How dare you try to take these things, because they are mine!

[mockerycrow]

I dunno where I first saw the HC that gaz loves live music but I totally agree, BUT knowing some combat vets end up having difficulties with loud crowded spaces…

I feel like one of his favorite things to do as a teen was music festivals, maybe he even volunteered for a few years at one of the big ones so he could see more shows and see them for free.

But after so many combat tours, dangerous missions like Piccadilly, he finds it hard to relax at them nowadays. The crowd sizes and dark and noise just gets his neurones firing and heart pumping and not in a fun way. Can’t help but be on the lookout for large areas with no cover, rooftop sight lines, suspicious backpacks or bags… he knows security does good work and events like what he’s dreading are rare but he just can’t turn off that learned instinct.

Bonus points; you and him go to a music festival night with heavier bands playing, louder music and just overall more intense. he won’t let you go into the massive crowd to be closer to the stage. He just doesn’t want to see you get hurt, from a mosh pit or just plain heat exhaustion! Even worse, if something bad happens, he doesn’t want to lose you in the chaos!

Double bonus points; you manage to sneak some vodka or a joint in or something and while he wants to give you some shit for it, he saw those drink prices. He gets it. (The one I worked at marked up the price of the drinks by 600%!!! Felt bad serving it lmao)

Anon. Your brain. ITS SO WRINKLY!!!!!! (and 600%??)

cw — implied marijuana use, mentioned ptsd

Kyle who takes a while to actually properly attend a music festival/concert. He tried to attend one on leave after Piccadilly with you, but he blinked and suddenly he was launched into fight or flight; like you said, looking for unattended bags, looking for suspicious individuals—identifying where you could get hurt the most, etc.

It takes him a long time to even settle a bit at a concert. Even then, Kyle cannot completely relax, even when he is assured by himself, you, and as well as a friend in security that the event is as safe as it can be. And even then he has a mental checklist that he cannot help but do. Check the crowd, have a map, know the less populated routes, look for stray bags, don’t stay by speakers, etc. Kyle’s heart races when he gets in his head a bit too much about it all—especially with you, as he is skilled in VIP escorting—yet, you somehow make it better for him at the same time.

Your soft touches, your calming voice and tone—you lean in to speak directly in his ear instead of yelling over noise, another thing that subtly calms his nerves and reminds him that no, he isn’t in a war zone and no, there hasn’t been another terrorist attack.

After a while, you notice Kyle getting antsy, his hand twitching near his belt like he’s going to reach for his service pistol holster that isn’t there. You grab his twitchy hand and you guide him to the smokers friendly gazebo where only maybe one other person is. It’s quieter and calmer, and Kyle looks at you with appreciative eyes—and he grins when he sees you pull out a familiar little bag and lighter.

He’ll have to buy you a lil treat later.

[dianalaurenstyles]

Reflection on the Last 14 Years

I saw Zayn in NYC on Saturday.

Yesterday, 3 days later, I found myself tearing up in the Dutch Bros drive thru.

Ain't it special? Ain't it precious? The time that we have?

Suddenly, the last 14 years are flowing through my mind. The One Direction concert in 2014, the hours I had spent behind a laptop screen rewatching Vevo videos to break 24 hour records, the Pinterest boards I had curated, and everything in between. In that moment, the lyrics Zayn sang through my car's radio spoke to all the time I had spent with these five boys.

And then, I realized why the post-concert depression was hitting me so much harder than usual: my concert experiences with the boys will always be incomplete.

The checklist will stay at 4 of 5.

I'm so grateful that I was able to attend Where We Are Tour in 2014 and I don't want that to be understated. But seeing the way Harry, Niall, Louis, and now Zayn have all blossomed into their own while performing solo is tearing into me as I think about what solo Liam shows we'll never get the chance to see. I'll never have a chance to wait in line for him, pray I'll get barricade for him, scream along the words with him. There will always be a hole that can never be filled. So for now I'll keep reminiscing on how far I've come. How much I have blossomed over the last 14 years, how much joy and hope and love the 5 boys on the stairs have given me, and dreaming of the next time I'll get to see one of them. Their concerts are now and forever will be my safe space. Photos are from the following shows: 1) WWA Tour - Nashville, August 2014 2) Harry Styles Live on Tour - Nashville, September 2017 3) Niall Horan The Flicker Sessions - Nashville, November 2017 4) Harry Styles Live on Tour - Nashville, June 2018 5) Harry Styles Love on Tour - Nashville, September & October 2021 6) Louis Tomlinson LT World Tour - Nashville, February 2022 7) Louis Tomlinson Faith in the Future Tour - Nashville, July 2023 8) Niall Horan The Show Live on Tour - Atlanta & Nashville, June 2024 9) Zayn Malik Stairway to the Sky Tour - New York City, January 2025

[long-distance-love]

Any cute date recommendations? Either distance or in person?

You ask and we shall deliver! Cute date ideas incoming 💕

In-person date ideas

Find a theme you're both interested in and go to a museum/exhibition (i.e. if you're both into Star Wars, find a SW exhibition; or if you're both into dinosaurs, find a museum that displays dinosaur bones)

Do the cliche dates (because they really work!) - coffee date, dinner date, bubble tea date, movie night, etc.

Find a park/forest/green area you've never been to and go for a walk together

Try a class or workshop together

Stay in. A date can be as simple as that. The act of choosing to spend intimate (not necessarily sexy wink-wink), one on one time together can be a date too.

Find the weirdest museum/exhibition and go together. Wash it down with a coffee afterwards to discuss what you've witnessed

See a play or a concert together

Get involved in each other's hobbies

Google 'date ideas checklist', find one you both like and do all those dates

Celebrate birthdays, holidays, achievements together privately

Set up a date for sexual intimacy (or just physical intimacy if you're ace)

Long distance date ideas

Have dinner together on a video call

Same as above, but order food for each other

Play video games together while on a call (even better if you're playing together online)

Same as above, except set up a date together in-game (i.e. exploring a region together, completing missions together)

Movie night: watch Netflix, Disney+ or YouTube together

Get involved in each other's hobbies: a bit more difficult with distance, but not impossible (get creative, take pictures and videos to share with each other later, call each other even if you're silent because i.e. you're trying to get into meditation or yoga)

Try Dovey Dates (read our review here)

Go for a walk separately while calling each other

Attend an online event together (i.e. a class, a seminar, etc) and then call each other afterwards to talk about it

Take a virtual museum tour together

Celebrate birthdays, holidays, achievements together privately on video call

Plan a meeting, or if you've already got one coming up, plan a date for that time you'll spend together

Design each other postcards on TouchNote while video calling (and send it to each other!)