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midnights-cosmic · 8 months ago

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Iced Coffee

Jeong Yunho x F!Reader

They said Cupid's Coffee Station has a magic of bringing people together. Yunho happened to take a liking on it ever since it opened right across KQ Entertainment's building. And he also happened to meet you in there. Will the magic work?

[Edited and Updated. Proof-read. June 19 2024]

"Where's Yunho?" Mingi asked when the rest of the members walked in the practice room. Yunho has been in and out of the practice room ever since this morning. This routine of his started about two weeks ago.

Wooyoung laughed, "He said he likes the coffee across the street."

Mingi raised an eyebrow. "Is he... You?"

Wooyoung shrugged his shoulders with a smile on his face.

"Ready to leave, everyone?" Hongjoong, who just finished stuffing his bag, asked. "Where's Yunho?"

"Across the street." Mingi and Wooyoung answered at the same time.

Hongjoong scoffed, shaking his head. Mingi was getting suspicious. What's his friend been doing at the newly opened coffee shop?

Cupid's Coffee Station — Your go-to café ever since you started attending Hongik University. It's one of those café's your college friends can't stop talking about. According to one of your classmates, this café has magic. Solely because it has the power of bringing people together. And by 'bringing people together', what she meant is setting up the most unlikely couples.

You almost laughed, hearing her voice in your head. That does sound ridiculous, doesn't it?

But who are you to talk? Curiosity got the best of you anyway. Here you are every day, every after class, every chance you get, even during weekends.

You've seen a few of your friends meet someone at this place, yet here you are, a regular, and still haven't met anyone.

Magic. Right, who believes in magic anyway. Just because Cupid's name is in this café doesn't mean his arrow is in every corner of this room, too. Or maybe you're just not meant to meet anyone, really.

You shook your head. "If I don't meet anyone here, that just means there's no magic in this café. Simple." You murmured under your breath, your books colliding at the floral table mats.

It wasn't the first time Yunho saw you talk to yourself. He can tell that you're annoyed, or perhaps just exhausted, even though he couldn't hear the words coming out of your lips. He truly wishes he could just ask, but he is not at all confident in his ability to do so. Although, honestly speaking, he'd probably had the courage if his members were with him.

Wooyoung

We're getting coffees too :))

Yunho

-_-

Wooyoung

Mingi is curious :P

Yunho

= __ =''

You were taken aback by the assortment of pastries available at the counter, most of them were usually sold out by now. You felt your mouth water at the sight and you wanted to taste every dish. From the croissant's golden hue, to the strawberry tart's vibrant red color, to the noisette's lovely swirls of chocolate.

However, the lone blueberry muffin on the side was calling for your attention.

You contemplated over the numerous options for a while before settling on the one and only muffin. You've been craving that blueberry flavor for some reason. Although a blueberry tart would have been a better option (which is sadly not available), the muffin will do the trick.

With a pair of tongs, you reached over the muffin, only to have your hand collide with another one. Chills ran down your spine as you felt the shock of electricity against your skin.

Your eyes met the prettiest eyes you've seen in a while. "Sorry. I didn't notice you're reaching for it too." You apologized.

You felt small under his gaze. He's too handsome to be standing near me. Am I even allowed to breathe the same air as this man?

"You can take it, it's fine." He smiled. You swore you could melt at this moment.

You took the blueberry muffin. Overcoming the feeling of how you felt bad that he wants it too.

The door chimes ring and a few voices from inside the quiet cafe can be heard as you both choose a second pastry. The handsome guy tensed next to you and let out a heavy sigh.

"Yunho-yah~"

So, his name is Yunho. His face suits that name so much. It's like an instant name you'd hear, and you would know that he'll be handsome already.

While you push forward to the barista to order your drink, you watch from your peripheral how Yunho gets mobbed by his friends. "Who are you with?" and "You've been here for an hour and you're just eating now?" are some of the jokes they were making, but Yunho shut them all up.

"Ma'am?" Your cheeks flushed, watching the barista wave his hands in front of your face. "May I have your drink?"

"Right. Uhm, I'll take an iced coffee, please. Two shots of espresso." That was what you needed. You need to boost your energy level and your focus. And an iced coffee might just help you with that.

You settled back into your seat after paying for your order. Glancing around, you realize that you have a full view of Yunho, sitting beside his friend; the one that keeps teasing him earlier.

You refrained yourself from grinning. It's amusing to see how shorter the other guy is compared to him, but Yunho is the one that's getting made fun of. You can tell that the other guys are joining in on the fun even though they have their backs to you.

Yunho continued rolling his eyes and shaking his head, particularly when he was being nudged.

You admire his patience. Could never be me. You thought.

Ever since that day, your encounters with Yunho have been frequent. You also noticed yourself having a habit of admiring him from afar. Most of the time, Yunho would be there before you.

And the rare occasions that you'll come before him, you'd see him still head in the same corner and the same seat. Pen in hand, notebook on the table.

"You're going home already?" Your friend asked while you were stuffing your bag with everything.

"Not really, but I need to finish my research." You mentioned.

It's Friday, the last day of finals for spring semester, has just concluded. You know that your friend will ask you to party and celebrate tonight, but you wanted to complete your research on Contemporary Art by Sunday. It was the last thing you need to pass before you can truly enjoy the summer break.

She slumped her shoulders and pouted. "You're no fun." A smile slipped through her lips. "Is it a guy? You met someone in the café, haven't you?"

You snickered. "Right. Magical coffee shop, blah blah blah. Nope! I just love their pastries."

Your friend hummed, teasingly. Her eyes shooting lasers at you. "He's probably handsome."

"Wh-"

"FIneeeeeee. If you can't go, I won't force you. But don't forget to introduce him to me." She winked, grabbing her bag then giving you a kiss on the cheek. "I think I might know who he is." She bumped her hips to yours.

You staggered back to your table, eyes squinted. She did a couple of dance steps that you don't recognize at all.

"It's something to do with spice and chilli peppers." She rolled her eyes, then laughed, before leaving you alone in the room.

"Whatever." You chuckled.

Cupid's Coffee Station

You tilted your head, blinking at the new LED outdoor sign of the cafe. It was blinking red and pink.

To be fair, there was never a day it wasn't lit, but it used to be just a simple white LED light. This time around, the colored LED confused you.

The chimes tinkled when you walked in. You were even more perplexed when you saw how empty the cafe was. All your favorite pastries lined the counter, not even one missing.

Wait, isn't it Friday? Shouldn't there be more people here? You shake your head.

It's probably one of those days where sales are slow... or is it? I don't know!

You pinched yourself back to reality and placed your bag on your seat. Same old routine; books on the table, sketch pad, laptop, and your collection of pens that only one is used for the whole year.

After a few minutes of writing down your thoughts about the painting you have chosen for your research. You started craving caffeine.

Iced coffee.

Yep, that's what you've decided to get again.

"Hello! Welcome to Cupid's Coffee Station!" You were caught off by the new barista. This time, the barista is a middle-aged man and has a bright smile on his face.

Where's the other guy?

"Sorry, something came up for my nephew so this old man—" pointing at himself, "—has to step in again in his own café."

Oh, he's the owner. Silly me.

You gave him a smile in return. "I'd like an iced coffee, please."

"Two shots of espresso." You both said at the same time.

Okay? What?—

"I apologize once again. I also like iced coffee with two shots of espresso."

You bit the inside of your cheek, stopping yourself from questioning the owner. As he makes your drink, you decide to grab a plate and a pair of tongs. That was weird, really.

You couldn't even count on your head how many times you shook your head today. It feels like there's so many things happening all at once. You just brushed off the strange sensation on your shoulders.

Finally! A blueberry tart. You've been waiting for it for the past few days. For some reason, the tart at school doesn't satisfy your cravings.

"I'll also take this." You paid for your order and made your way back to your area.

You turned back to face the man after placing your orders on the table. His hands were cleaning and wiping the table. The coffee thing is probably just a coincidence and nothing to overthink about.

Honestly speaking, there's probably a million people out there who also like iced coffee with two shots of espresso.

It's not a big deal, Y/N. Chill.

Work. Yunho has been working for a total of thirteen hours. The joy he felt was unexplainable when Hongjoong called it a day. He threw his head back, stretching and relaxing his muscles.

Once his bag is packed and ready, Yunho excused himself and told his members that he'll be at the café.

"Well, you can just call manager-hyung to pick you up later." Yeosang said, yawning in the process. The members who were looking at him followed suit. "I'm tired as hell."

"I'm heading home, too. I wanna sleep so baddd~" Wooyoung fussed, hugging San, who was sitting beside him on the floor.

"Make sure to call—" Mingi was cut off when the door closed behind Yunho. He looked at Hongjoong, expecting him to be just as upset as he is. "Hyung! Did you see that?"

All he got was a few laughter from his friends and a pat on the back from Seonghwa and San. "That asshole." Mingi laughed anyway.

Red, pink, white, red, pink, white, red, pink,...

Has this LED light always been colored? Yunho thought. That's unusual.

Yunho was greeted by the sweet and savory scent of the pastries. He was amazed how many are lining the counters.

Unfortunately, he can feel his body slumping from tiredness. So, anything pastry is not on his list today. He's just here to get a boost from caffeine.

"Hello! Welcome to Cupid's Coffee Station!" A man greeted him.

Yunho's brow raised, looking behind the man and trying to locate the regular barista that serves him. "Nephew's out today, bud. What can I get for you?"

Yunho thought of the many options that he wanted. "One red eye, please."

"Great choice! It's been a long day, huh?" The man conversed.

"Today is extra stressful." Yunho smiled, politely.

"It probably is." The man replied, "Thank God, the cafe's empty today. You need that space and rest."

Yunho surveyed the area. This cafe has never seemed so empty to him. Considering that it's Friday, there should be a ton of people enjoying their last day of work and students hanging out.

While Yunho was happy to be able to unwind in his favorite place, he was also sympathetic to the owner. Low sales only occur occasionally, but it most likely hurts small businesses big time.

"Here's your drink."

Yunho offered his card to pay. The man swiped it quickly and handed it back.

"Enjoy your coffee and stay."

Yunho bowed. "Thank you."

Yunho was striding towards his regular spot when he noticed a table marker placed on the table. Table reserved.

He looked around. Reserved? When the café's empty??

Yunho chose the next nearest table but it's also marked as reserved.

You watched Yunho pace back and forth while holding his wooden tray. Brows raised, you try to peak why he's not sitting down. You saw that every table that was vacant was marked as reserved.

Will there be a special occasion to be held here today?

After minutes of contemplating, you built up your courage to walk up to Yunho.

Your steps were extra silent walking towards the very confused man. He was so tall compared to you. So much taller. With light taps on his arms, you greeted him. His back turned, looking even more baffled than ever. Yunho's eyes widened at the sight of you.

You muster up a smile, "Hi. Uhm... I— Well, you see... I was—"

Yunho observed your stuttering speech. Your cheeks flushed and your eyes refused to meet his gaze. His brain was too cloudy to listen to what you were saying. It was like everything was silent and all he could see was you, standing in front of him with moving lips. His mind is blurred, the words you were speaking were not being processed in his head.

"If that's okay with you." You said.

Yunho blinked, "Sorry? I didn't hear what you said.” He cleared his throat, another silent sorry slipping through his lips.

"You can sit with me. It seems like my table's the only one available right now. Everything seems to be reserved..." You trailed. The both of you looked around and agreed with each other silently.

"Uh yeah. Sure. Thank you so much." Yunho smiled. “I really appreciate it.”

Despite every table being reserved, no one else came in. You were silently hoping for at least one customer to arrive to ease your nervousness around Yunho.

You and him sat there in silence; with him occasionally sipping on his drink and scrolling through his phone. While you, on the other hand, tried your best to conceal most of your face on your laptop’s screen.

Every now and then, you would draw something on your sketchbook and analyze your own techniques, before returning to typing absentmindedly for your paperwork.

You can feel Yunho’s stare sometimes. You’ve seen how he fidgets, mouth twitching as if he wants to talk to you.

Time passed by quickly, yet slowly at the same time. At one point, Yunho asked you if you were an art student. You shyly replied, yes, and from that, the conversation flowed naturally.

"I'm really bad at drawing." Yunho grimaced.

"Oh come on! You can't be that bad!" You assured, pushing the sketchbook further to his side.

A sigh escaped Yunho's lips, but the corner of his lips turned when he gently grabbed the pencil from your fingertips. "If you say so."

You could see Yunho drew a circle, then curves surrounding the initial shape he made. He then drew a straight line down, followed by extremely snaky leaves.

You couldn't help but laugh when he added glow and stars around the flower. "You know, you could've just drawn butterflies. That would make more sense."

Yunho shook his head. "Nope, this is a glowing flower."

"See! You can draw!"

"Fortunately, I do believe that you haven't seen my worst drawings." Yunho dropped the pencil, and picked up his phone. After a mere second, his phone screen was on your face.

You put your hand to your mouth to stop the laughter before it could escape. "You drew that?" You asked in disbelief.

Let's just say that it was the most interesting drawing of a giraffe you have ever seen.

"Are you heading home?" Yunho asked, helping you with the scattered colored pencils on the table.

"Yeah, I'll be taking a bus." The both of you didn't notice the time. It's running almost 9 in the evening before you even know it.

Yunho looked worried, but you muffle out a laugh. "It's fine, Yunho. I live quite near anyway. Just thirty minutes away." You explained. "Plus, you said you have a schedule tomorrow. If I remember correctly, Mingi said the call time is 6 AM." You teased.

He had told you about his group, most especially his best friend, Song Mingi.

"I can drop you off?" It was like Yunho was asking himself more than you.

A large black car pulled up and parked directly in front of the large glass front door before you had a chance to decline.

The owner of the cafe appeared unexpectedly next to you and Yunho, making you both flinch in his presence.

"I hope you enjoyed your stay!" He greeted with the biggest smile on his face.

You had to beam back at him because of his contagious smile. Even though he was intimidating when you first arrived, you can now sense his sincerity and kindness.

Not to add, he asked your table if you needed anything else at all, and your table partner requested a refill for his red eye, which resulted in you and Yunho having more conversation to discuss and random things to tease each other about.

"I hope to see you together again here in Cupid's Coffee Station."

The both of you thanked him. The owner opened the door and bid you safe travel.

Like on queue, the car window rolled down when Yunho stepped out of the coffee shop. You, anxiously playing with your hands, next to him.

Yunho walked towards the rolled down window. "Hyungnim~"

There was a conversation between Yunho and the driver. It was slightly inaudible. However, you can overhear him saying that he needs to drop you off at your house.

"It's late in the evening. I can't just let Y/N go and take a bus."

Short silence... A couple more talking... then Yunho whispered a celebratory 'Yes!'

"Let's go Y/N. We'll take you home." Yunho opened the car door and offered his hand.

Take it! And so you did. For some reason, that voice in your head doesn't even sound like you. It was like a compelling voice that you couldn't even say no to.

You had expected Yunho to sit next to the driver but he didn't. As you put the pieces together, you realized that the driver might also be his manager. Yunho told you a lot about his idol life during the twenty questions game you both had.

"Thank you, Hyung. I know we might get in trouble for this, but really, thank you." Yunho talked while closing the car door and getting comfortable next to you.

"We'll be fine." The manager said, though you can hear the faint worry in his voice. "Uh, Y/N, right? Yunho can't get out of the car when we arrive at your house. Please use the door on your side later."

You nodded. "No problem. Thank you so much."

"Hyung, she knows that."

"Just making things clear, Yunho."

You've told the manager your address afterwards.

The car moved, now on its way to the destination. Looking back at the cafe, you watched the lights inside turned off one by one. Lips parting at the sight of the LED outdoor sign blinking red, pink, then it flickered, completely stopping at white.

Yunho noticed your expression. "Something wrong?"

"The LED light!" You pointed, but when Yunho turned around, the car rounded a corner.

"Why— What happened?"

What was that? Shaking your head, "Nothing. It's probably just my mind playing tricks."

[End of Part One]

[Part Two in progress]

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #jeong yunho #ateez fic #ateez yunho #yunho x reader

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ireadwithmyears · 1 month ago

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Looking Out for You: Part 3

Pairing: Commander Fox/fem reader

Part 1 | Part 2 |Visually impaired reader masterlist

Tagging: @tazmbc1

Word count: 4.7 K

Tags/warnings: visually impaired reader, Angst, confrontation, disability based discrimination/ableism, mild hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, Fox (and reader for that matter actually) are both bad at feelings

Summary: When things start showing signs of getting confrontational when you’re just trying to get a ride home from work, Fox, as is seeming to become routine, saves the day. Now if only you could save yourself from falling even harder for the man who you’re certain, without even having to ask, does not feel the same way about you, things would be just perfect.

Authors note: Surprised I got this up before the new year? Yeah, me too. Planning to have the final installment of this up sometime in January, though with me, you really never know what’s going to happen until it does 🤣 I’m not good at scheduling when it comes to writing. Things are only going to happen when they’re ready to. But without further ado, I hope you enjoy this one, and I’m wishing everyone a happy new year🎊

The third time it happens, Fox is imbued with a vengeful, murderous rage.

Is that an exaggeration? Only slightly. But honestly, it doesn’t take much to set him off these days, and this, he thinks—striding through the twists and turns of the Senate Building’s hallways with tightly clenched fists and a contemptuous glare on his face that he hadn’t even bothered to conceal with his helmet before storming out of his office—has certainly done it, no question

It had all started a couple of weeks ago, a few mornings after you and Fox had gone on your breakfast date. No—he adamantly refuses to call it a date. But regardless, after that, several events had occurred in quick and notable succession.

The first, the morning after you had returned to the Senate Building after you had been given a day off in compensation for your working overtime the night prior, you arrived to find a new and fully operational orientation and mobility droid, photoreceptors blinking and waiting for you outside.

Fox, after doing some research, found that they were a very useful and highly sought-after navigational tool for the blind in the workplace, assisting with guidance, orientation through different spaces, and generally aiding by describing visual markers, signage, inaccessibly formatted documents and other things you might encounter.

He had come to find, sifting through Senate-issued requisition forms, that you had been approved to obtain one, fully covered, weeks ago. He made some calls, pulled some strings, and with some degree of satisfaction boosted you to the top of the waitlist and made sure that the droid had been fully set up and functional by the time you returned to work.

Two days later, the first box of baked goods mysteriously appeared outside his office door.

Fox, ever the skeptic, had been wary and had even gone so far as to take the first box of deliciously powdered donuts to one of his medics for screening just to make sure it wasn’t some Separatist trick filled with poison.

That was proven to not be the case, and his brothers, laughing at him for being so paranoid, had swiped the remaining donuts, converging around the box like a swarming hive of bees eager to taste the first drops of a flower's nectar, eating whatever they could reach.

Fox had glared at them and pretended to be annoyed at his loss, but then the food kept coming.

Baked goods were sent down to HQ or his office anonymously every couple of days, and if he had been suspicious before—considering he had only just spoken to you about how little exposure clones actually had to food—exiting his office to find your visual interpreting assistant droid, Via, resolutely marching down the hallway with a tin of Coruscant Guard-red frosted cupcakes held in her metallic arms with the logo of the small coffee shop he had taken you to just over a week ago made the pieces come together with a satisfying click in his mind.

“Via,” he had called out, voice colored with fresh surprise and bafflement. “What are you doing?”

“I am delivering a parcel on behalf of my mistress,” she had stated with that tone Fox privately thought droids always used when they believed a human was asking a stupid and redundant question. “As you are the benefactor, I shall relieve myself of it and hand it directly to you.”

He had taken it, utterly lost for words and filled with a mix of confusion and strange, totally foreign delight knowing that you had been the one delivering these gifts.

It was thoughtful, he had mused. Kind. And he really should insist that you put an end to it, because it was unnecessary. But, stomach growling as he looked down at the clear-plastic topped box and turned back to his office to set it down, he found that he wasn’t in too much of a hurry to do so.

Come on, Via, hurry up.

The singular thought chases around in circles in your head, anxiety increasing with every tap of your foot against the pavement-covered ground.

As a rule, and on the recommendation of a certain clone commander, you weren’t in the habit of waiting outside the Senate Building on your own anymore, which is why the droid had shown up at precisely the right time. Rumors were abound that the Senate abductions were still occurring, and even though the Guard was closing in on a specific lead, the suspect was still at large. The situation was made worse with the sun beginning to set earlier, leaving you in almost complete darkness by the time you started making your way home most nights.

But then, things like this would happen, and it made you all the more grateful for the droid’s unexpected but welcome company at the end of the day.

You had explained on her first night waiting with you to catch your ride home from work that sometimes situations like this would arise.

“And how am I to assist if things were to, as you say, ‘get ugly’?” she had asked, photoreceptors blinking as she looked at you.

“Nothing you can do, I think,” you had shrugged, and when that response had only elicited the mechanical equivalent of a dissatisfied sound from the droid, you had conceded. “I suppose you could get the nearest member of the Coruscant Guard to intercede,” you said, thoughtfully biting your lip. “An uncooperative driver might be more inclined to listen if it’s coming from one of them, though I would prefer to try and handle it on my own first. After a moment’s pause and almost as an afterthought, you had added, “Preferably, get Commander Fox.”

You couldn’t explain why, other than you just trusted him above all others to make sure that if you were ever in a tight spot like this, you got out of it without trouble.

“Excellent,” Via had chirped, straightening with a now satisfied air. “Then that is what I shall do. Though let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Well, a few days later, it did. You found yourself frantically depending on the droid that had, out of nowhere, arrived outside Senator Organa’s office, clearly denoted as being meant specifically for you.

She had her uses, you had to admit. Outside of the usual—getting you to where you needed to go inside the often tricky-to-navigate Senate Building—she could also run errands for you, and that, you had found, was very useful—even if it was for a more personal nature than had originally been intended.

Via had, with the help of your descriptions and admittedly blurred memory from your sleepless night, helped you locate the coffee shop Fox had taken you to, and if outside of work hours, you had required her assistance to help read the menu and place large orders of baked goods to be shipped down to his office or Coruscant Guard HQ…well, no one had said anything against it, and it made you happy knowing that Fox and hopefully some of his brothers would be able to eat food that they would also be able to enjoy, an apparent luxury that they had never been afforded, to your disgust, by their seemingly cutthroat creators.

You had also taken advantage of her translating abilities, which became especially helpful during Senate meetings and also when you had asked her what the kriff “cyar’ika” meant. Your ears turned pink every time you thought about it, and your lips couldn’t resist curling upward into a small, endeared smile whenever the commander came to mind after that.

At this moment though, you certainly weren’t endeared.

“Who are you to tell me my rights as a driver?”

The furious shout rings through the quiet parking lot and you swallow, heart picking up in speed as you reach down to run your fingers through Mandalore’s soft fur at the top of her head. She nuzzles into your hand, well practiced in your number-one technique to self-soothe and ground yourself by now. You close your eyes, focusing on the rhythm of your pets, the way her fur feels beneath your fingertips, and find that for once, it’s not helping.

Especially not when the driver—apparently sparked into a rage at your audacity in telling him that it was against planetary law to deny service to beings purely because they were accompanied by a service animal—opens the drive’rs seat door, the click of his seat belt unbuckling unmistakable and ringing in your ears as he gets out of his speeder.

Oh, boy, you think, tentatively taking a step back as he steps into your field of vision on the sidewalk. This has never happened to you before.

“Look,” you manage to get out through a panicked swallow, the rhythm of your hand smoothing against Mandalore’s head too fast, too uneven. “I am simply stating that there are laws in place. If I were to take this to court—”

“You’d what, take away my license?” He’s menacing as he takes another step forward, and you physically recoil at the smell of stale caf that you catch on his breath as he invades your space. “I bet you think you’re untouchable because you kiss Organa’s ass, don’t you, sweetheart?”

He reaches out, you think maybe to grab the badge that denotes your name and position within the Senate, but you’re stepping, no, stumbling backward, Mandalore jumping to her feet and shoving her way in front of you as her ears perk upward in consternation, intuitively sensing your growing unease.

She’s trained to be well-behaved, to remain calm and unaffected in even the most chaotic situations, yet right now she senses a clear threat, and you don’t scold her for acting on it. Hell, your hands are shaking so hard that you can barely keep a grip on her leash, let alone reach for her harness.

And then the double doors of the Senate Building come swishing open behind you and a voice—steady, sure, and with the cutting edge of a deadly knife—fills you with such a sharp, distinct sense of relief that it nearly brings you to your knees.

“Do we have a problem here?”

It’s strange and distinctly unsettling for Fox to catch a glimpse of Mandalore giving voice to his internal rage with her expression alone. But he realizes as he steps out from the shadows that he’s only ever seen her happy and calm, a far cry from the tense, highly alert, and looking like she’s about to pounce canine that stands in front of you right now.

He understands though. He understands her all too well. If Via’s report on the rapidly escalating situation she had briefed him on as they speed walked hadn’t been enough, than this—hearing the tail end of the confrontation and seeing that the driver had looked to be about to lunge for you—well, sufficed to say his blood is boiling, and his heart is beating loudly in his ears.

Fox takes a breath, flexes his fingers, and wills himself to calm down before he speaks again. When he calls your name, it’s still gruff, but softer, wanting only gentle words to be directed your way. He’s relieved to see that despite your already tense shoulders and your shaking hand clutching at Mandalore’s leash, you don’t flinch when he addresses you—a small but resounding victory in his mind.

“Stay right there,” Fox murmurs, his voice steady, coaxing, and soft, making it all the more obvious when he directs it away from you. When he speaks to the man that still looms menacingly over you, his words are anything but soft.

“You,” Fox barks, pleased to watch the man cringe at the hint of a snarl in his voice. “You’re going to take five large steps away from her right now.”

Before the driver can get any foolhardy ideas of turning tail and diving back into his speeder, Fox allows his hand to drift to his hip, though he’s not reaching to draw. His fingers tap against the holster, not even having to lift it or look down as they adeptly prime the weapon to stun.

There is an audible swallow before the man slowly complies, taking the required amount of steps away from you. Fox nods, satisfied as he clears the distance, immediately putting himself between you and the driver, now allowing the man to know what it feels like to have someone much bigger looming menacingly above him as he glares.

“Now,” his next words are quiet, calm…deadly, “you’re going to get back into your speeder, and you’re going to do exactly as your job has directed you and bring this lady, accompanied by her service dog, to her place of residence.”

He senses the objection coming, and he growls lowly, reaching to grasp at the man’s collar, giving a small tug to enunciate his next words when he speaks them.

“And perhaps,” he says, his words biting in the chilled air, “if you do your task satisfactorily, I will consider having the suspension I’m going to place on your license as soon as you’ve dropped her off reinstated after a week instead of a month as I had originally intended.”

“A month?” the man practically squeaks. “That’s preposterous—”

“And did you really think she was joking about the 5,000-credit fine for service animal access denial?” Fox asks, cutting him off. “I’m sure I could pull some strings and still work that in on top of the suspension if you’d like.”

“Technically, the fine could be doubled to 10,000,” Via pipes up, her mechanical footsteps coming to a stop as she stands beside Fox. “I have recorded evidence that you attempted to physically engage with my mistress without her expressed consent.”

Fox has to restrain the impulse to give the droid a full-out grin as the driver, twitchy and squirming as he already is, falls silent, biting the inside of his cheek before letting out a breath and mutely nodding his head, and as Fox releases the grip he has on his collar, he scurries back into his speeder, opening the back passenger door with a remote as he does.

Is he supposed to use his rank as a Marshal Commander of the Coruscant guard to deliver personal vendettas like this? No, but he’s certainly already exploited his position to do much more ambiguous and morally questionable things, and one lone speeder driver attempting to rat him out for this one will, in all likelihood, fall on deaf ears. So, weighing the odds, he’s satisfied and feeling just pissed off and petty enough that he’s willing to take the risk.

“Fox,” your voice escapes you in a breath as you move forward, catching his arm and looking up at him with wide eyes.

“It’s all sorted,” Fox says, trying to sound reassuring as he places a hand lightly over yours. “He’ll get you home with no trouble.”

“But, I…” despite your inability to articulate, he sees it. A single glance you throw towards the speeder displays the anxiety and fear still very real and present within your eyes, and Fox understands, the pieces clicking together in his mind like a puzzle.

Fox can tell just by watching the man through his window—fumbling with his keys and sending nervous glances over his shoulder, as if he’s concerned that Fox might change his mind and instead demand him to surrender his license on the spot—that he’s eliminated the threat. What Fox hasn’t done though, and what he should be wholly focussed on right now, is eliminating your fear.

“You don’t feel safe with him,” he states, watching as you nod your head.

“No,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t.”

Of course, you don’t. Fox internally kicks himself. Why would you even under normal circumstances feel safe in a speeder with a man you’ve never met before, let alone one who’s angered and personally confronted and threatened you within the span of several minutes. And that’s only what Fox had witnessed.

Right, he thinks. Time to fix that.

Fox gives the hand that’s still curled around his bicep a small squeeze, feeling how unwilling your fingers seem to be to let go, and as he looks up, watching the way you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, an idea sparks.

“Bet you thought you were going to drive away from here and get rid of me,” Fox mutters darkly, startling the driver as he ducks inside the back of the speeder, shifting to the other side of the seat. “Not a chance.”

“Come on, Cyar’ika,” he calls to you, voice warm as he invitingly pats the available row of seats at his side. “Let’s get the two of you home.”

“Mandy.”

Your voice is a soft, quiet call within the silence, and even the sound of it makes you startle slightly and flinch, eyes uncertainly flicking towards the front of the speeder. You desire to make yourself small and inconsequential, as inconspicuous to the unwilling and already annoyed driver as you possibly can.

Angry people are unpredictable, and you have no desire to be in his targeting range. But you also, despite the fact that there is a fully trained and armed clone commander sitting at your side, need comfort. You need the reassurance that you’re not alone and that you’re safe, and sometimes only your guide dog can do that, making the nights feel less dark and the paths you wander never lonely because she’s there leading you through them and standing at your side, as constant as the air that you’re breathing.

When her head pops up from where she’s been lying down at your feet, eyes shining through the evening’s encroaching darkness, you smile, though it’s strained, and reach down to stroke one of her long, soft ears.

“Hey, girl,” you whisper, leaning forward to bump your forehead against hers. The proximity is familiar, the feeling of her fur imprinted on your memory like the back of your own hand. “You’re so good.”

“You call her Mandy?” Fox asks, his voice low and amused at your side as he watches you.

“Sometimes,” you say, straightening as you continue to pet her fondly. “It’s one of her many nicknames.”

There’s a beat of silence where neither of you speak, looking at each other as the traffic blurs by outside the windows.

“Do you have any?” you ask, suddenly seizing on the opportunity for conversation, craving any kind of distraction from this mess. “Nicknames, I mean.”

“Not really,” he responds, shaking his head before pausing and glancing down, his cheeks warming with a slightly embarrassed heat. “Well, sometimes my brothers call me ‘Fox’ika,’ just to piss me off.”

“What does it mean?” you ask, privately suspecting that it’s another term in Mando’a, but not wanting to reveal to him that you knew of his prior slip up.

Right now, what he had called you can exist in your mind, and you can smile and blush about it all you want. But if you said anything, if you let him know that he had given voice to the feelings you were becoming more and more aware were stirring within you for the commander, it would become real, and with reality comes the knowledge that it was probably nothing more than accidental.

You’re not ready to let that go, not just yet. The fantasy that he could think of you in that way, that he could want you in that way is just too good, too enchanting—enough to give you butterflies every time you think of that one, simple term of endearment that means everything to you but probably means absolutely nothing to him—to let go of just yet. So you don’t.

“Adding ‘-ika’ to a word makes it more diminutive,” Fox explains, oblivious to your inner mess of conflicting thoughts and feelings. “Little. It would be like calling me ‘Little Fox,’ you know?”

“That is kind of cute,” you can’t help but admit, your smile cheeky as you look up at him.

You’re imagining this tall, well-built, and highly competent clone commander as nothing more than an adorable, little fox looking up at you with wide eyes, and you can’t help but grin.

“Oh, please,” Fox groans, placing a hand on his heart. “Your betrayal has wounded me grievously.”

His voice is so stoic, so serious and deadpan that you can’t help but snort, a small giggle slipping past your lips before you can stop it. Fox pokes you in the side, which makes you instinctively slap his hand away as you begin to laugh more, until there’s a small, but audible huff of irritation from the driver's seat of the speeder. You stop, all of your previous safety and feelings of starting to be at ease retreating in an instant, your previous anxiety and discomfort snapping back like an elastic band being pulled to its limits and rebounding.

Fox notices your sudden stillness, your startling and abrupt retreat back within yourself. He frowns, and before you know it, your hands are intertwined with his. Your eyes widen. You’re taken off-guard for an instant because while the warmth of his hands and their steady, reassuring weight against yours has become familiar to you, the barrier of gloves in between is gone, and the palms that cradle yours are soft, warm, and grounding.

He lifts one of yours, guiding it until the palm is flipped face down, lightly resting against Mandalore’s warm, soft forehead.

“She’s here,” he states, lightly stroking the back of your fingers before letting go, leaving your hand settled against the guide dog’s soft fur.

The warmth of his touch completely surrounds and envelops your hand as he cradles it, taking the one remaining between both of his and guiding it to rest against his thigh, making no move to push you off or retreat as he looks down at you.

“I’m here,” he says, his voice a low, soothing rumble that’s just above a whisper in the darkness.

He presses your hand against his, and you feel the rough calluses built up from years of handling blasters and weapons as his fingertips trace against your knuckles.

“You’re almost home, Cyar. Just two more minutes,” he murmurs, glancing down at his comm as it tracks your progress on a map. “And me and Mandy aren’t going anywhere in the meantime.”

You swallow, shifting closer to him and nodding your head. You should be relieved, should be happy that you’re almost home and you can finally get away from this speeder that smells of stale cigars and dirty old caf cups and from the driver who has done nothing but make you feel uncomfortable and unsafe this whole time.

But all you can think as you look up at Fox and continue holding onto his hands, is consequences be damned. You really just want to lean forward, press your lips against his, and kiss him until the two of you are breathless right now.

“Are you good from here?”

You give Fox a small nod of your head, but make no move to extricate your arm from where it’s nestled in the crook of his elbow. Truthfully, you had been good some distance ago, as soon as the speeder had pulled up in front of your house. You knew where you were going, but he had still offered out his arm and guided you down the pathway, up the steps, and straight to your door with such uncharacteristically gentle attentiveness that you found yourself unable to refuse him, and since your hand is still shaking and you’re still throwing glances over your shoulder as the speeder drives off, so what if you’re enjoying someone fussing over you just a little? Right now, you’ll take it.

“You know, we will sort this out,” Fox says, voice quieter as he glances down at the hand still looped through his arm, sensing your hesitation. “This won’t happen again. I’ll make sure of it.”

In all honesty, Fox is fully preparing himself to march straight up to Senator Organa’s office, because he knows that out of most of the fools who work in the Senate Building, he will at least respectfully listen and take the security concerns towards his lower staff members seriously when Fox informs him of them. If nothing else—if your right to having consistent, accommodating transportation to and from work isn’t enough—then surely the knowledge that the Guard still hasn’t managed to catch the culprit behind the abductions surrounding his committee and the fact that you have to travel in unregulated and unsecure transports will be.

“I know,” you say, looking up at him through your eyelashes. Reluctantly, you let your hand fall away from where it’s been holding onto his arm, turning to unlock your door. “Thanks for getting me home. I don’t think I would’ve felt safe without having you there.”

The door opens, and you raise one foot to step through the threshold. Then, possessed by some reckless, unthinking urge, you turn around, clear the distance between the two of you in several quick, small steps, rise up onto your tiptoes. and with one of your hands holding onto his shoulder for leverage, press your lips against his in a soft, chaste kiss.

Fox’s brain short circuits. One minute, he’s thinking about speaking to Senator Organa and potential breaches in security, and the next all of his thoughts are swept away and instantly consumed by you, the hand that holds onto his armored shoulder feeling so light and inconsequential, and yet even through the plastoid, the touch is present and poignant, burning through his skin to the bones that lie beneath.

When your lips meet his, he feels the way in which they part, making way for a soft exhalation of breath that brushes against his own skin and his eyes widen, surprised and all at once wanting. He lifts a hand, undecided between whether he wants to tug you closer by one of your hips so he can indulge himself in knowing what it feels like to have you pressed up against him, or to lightly and with a gentleness he didn’t know he wanted to have, lift his hand to brush his fingers against the soft cheek unmarred by scars as his is and hold it within the gentle press of his palm as he cradles the side of your face, keeping your lips pressed against his exactly where he wants you, where he needs you, with a sudden fervor and to the very core of his being.

Fox isn’t given the chance to do either of those things.

Mandalore, evidently impatient to get inside so she can finally be relieved of her work duties, gives an exasperated shake, jingling the metal in both her leash and harness as she waits by the door for you to return. You jump back, looking for all the world like you have just been caught doing something completely inexcusable. Fox doesn’t understand the twisting, sinking feeling in his chest when he catches sight of your expression, and you don’t give him much time to investigate it further.

“I…forgive me, Commander.”

Your words come out in a barely there whisper, and before he can respond—before he can even think about the over half-a-dozen responses in his head, ranging from a casual “nothing to forgive,” to a “please, do it again,” to just taking you by your fidgeting hands, spinning you so that you’re pinned against the wall and pressing his lips against yours until you’ve forgotten all about your previous apologies—you’re turning and scurrying away, eyes widened as if you’re a frightened tooka, and retreat back into the safety of your house, the tap of Mandalore’s paws click-clacking against the hardwood floor following after you, seeming to echo the accompanying silence, the abrupt and startling standstill that takes place in Fox’s mind as soon as you’ve disappeared behind the door.

Fox stares, eyes equally wide, at the panelled wood that now stands between the two of you, his breath caught in his throat. His lips are still parted, still eager, and still waiting to be given another kiss that he now knows is not coming.

It takes him a long, long time to summon the energy, the willpower, to turn and step away from your door and slowly descend the three porch steps.

Fox doesn’t know how he manages it, but, coward that he is, he walks away, hating himself more and more with every step that he takes as he leaves you behind.

•Thank You to @strangergraphics-archive for these adorable puppy dividers

#commander fox x reader #commander fox #Commander Fox #marshal commander fox #The clone wars fanfiction #tcw fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #Reader insert #x reader #female reader #tcw #the clone wars #sw the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars #coruscant guard #Ireadwithmyears fics

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shegotheruby · 6 days ago

Text

Previously Bitchless

***fully inspired by the new diesel photos of hoshi. Especially the one with his abs out. I’m gagged and in love***

a little story about the time you got a job at Hybe <3

WC: 12,028

TW: 18+ / MDNI / SMUT / ALCOHOL/ CONSENT IS SEXY / LOSS OF VIRGINITY /ETC.

---

Today is probably the scariest fucking day of your life… or maybe the most exciting day of your life… perhaps it’s the wildest day of your life? You can’t really decide right now. scanning into the Hybe building with your new employee ID, you take a look around in awe. You’re met with plenty of tall ceilings, intricate light fixtures, and glass everywhere. All of the meeting rooms are filled with long tables and glass walls. The cafeteria overlooks the city and you find yourself in awe of just how beautiful the practice rooms are. Sure, you’ve seen pictures and videos online from your fangirl years in America, but being here in person was so much different. So much more breathtaking and impressive.

You made it a point to show up early so you could find your bearings, but as it neared 10:00 am you slowly worked your way towards the SEVENTEEN practice room. You’re a prepared kind of person, arriving with your schedule in hand.

10:00 - meet other backup dancers 10:15 - warm up alone 10:30 - warm up as a group 10:45 - start learning choreography 11:45 - meet seventeen 12:00 - practice with members 1:00 - lunch 2:00 - learn routines from past comebacks 3:00- break 3:30 - practice new comeback 5:00 - dismissed

You look at the paper like it’s your lifeline. ‘you’re meant to be here’ you tell yourself. ‘you belong. you’ve earned this. you can do this.’ You chant this over and over in your head, shaking away the nerves.

You’re not nervous to dance, that’s your comfort space. The place where you find yourself forgetting everything else and giving into the melodies and the music.

You’re nervous about the other stuff. About not being as fluent in Korean as you’d like. About meeting the idols you’ve (secretly…god please don’t let anyone find out) been in love with since the first time you saw them on your screen. nervous that the returning dancers already made friends and you’ll be an outcast… all of it has your brain doing laps.

You’re broken out of your thoughts when the first team member walks in the door.

“you’re early!” he exclaims, setting down his bag and water bottle. “You must be another newbie?”

“that obvious, huh?” you question, holding your schedule in front of you.

he holds up a folder, “I’ve got copies in case anyone left theirs at home. I’m scared shitless!”

you let out a relieved laugh, grateful you’re not the only one feeling the pressure. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Zdae.”

“nice to meet you.”

Shortly after more of the team starts to pile into the room. As you suspected, there were a group of guys that already knew each other from a prior contract, goofing off closer towards the center of the room, while the rest of you kind of stuck to the wall. You’re decently extroverted once you get comfortable, but it usually takes a bit of time to find out where you fit into a new group.

You’d prefer to keep quiet at least a bit longer before being too outgoing. You find the people who are too loud off the bat can sometimes become a punching bag for gossip and if there’s one thing you hate, it’s giving people a reason to talk badly about you. Call it the people pleaser side. With that said, sometime into learning the new choreography, one of the choreographers, Hyelim asks who is capable of a backflip.

You raise your hand, assuming someone else will too, but you’re the only one. In a room full of professional dancers, it takes you with a bit of surprise, but you don’t let it show. You just put your foot into Zdae’s hand and let him throw you into a backflip. (it probably won’t even get used in the choreo anyways. You’re used to stunts and tricks like this being tested and dropped like nobody’s business.)

What you’re not used to is the “woah!” and the “sick!” that come from the doorway when you land. You look over to see Soonyoung and Dino walking into the room with Minghao right behind them. “You upgraded our team.” Minghao says to the choreographers, shooting you an impressed look.

To say you blushed bright red is an understatement.

The rest of practice was pretty organized. You didn’t really get to talk to any of the members (not that you expected to). From all of the behind the scenes videos you’ve watched throughout the years, it doesn’t really seem like the idols and the backup dancers have much of a personal relationship. You always assumed that was to avoid dating scandals and shit like that, but you were curious to see how it was when the cameras were off.

pretty much the same, you discovered.

That is, until the practice ended. The creative team dismissed everyone for lunch and before leaving the room Dokyeom and Seungkwan made their way over to your corner. They introduced themselves to the new members, and even asked you some basic questions about yourselves.

You were the last to leave the room, and the two members stopped you before you could leave.

“You’re Y/N.” DK asked, testing his memory.

“yeah” you replied, brushing a peice of your hair behind your ear.

“Is it rude to assume you’re american?” Seungkwan asked, probably analyzing your facial structure.

“Not rude. just true.” you shrugged with a smile. “I’m hoping my Korean gets better with time.”

“No I didn’t mean your Korean was bad!” he replies with a burst of anxious energy, “I just mean you seem a bit more normal to us? does that make sense?”

“Um… not really?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“I think what he means to say, is you didn’t look away when we were trying to introduce ourselves. We don’t see that very often from people who grew up in the same country as us.” DK cuts in. “Our faces are plastered on everything from busses to billboards so it’s kind of hard to interact with people who treat us like normal people instead of walking marketing campaigns.”

“Oh..” you contemplate. “I didn’t realize it was like that for you guys.”

“The media doesn’t really show what it’s like for us to interact with anyone other than other celebrities.” Seungkwan purses his lips. “It’s kind of messed up but that’s just how the industry works I guess.”

“I guess the fans are only interested in seeing you guys interact with other people they like. You’re like characters of some twisted reality show.” you think aloud.

“catching on fast, backflip.” Soonyoung cuts in, walking over from where he was having a hushed conversation with Jihoon.

“backflip?”

“Well I don’t know your name so the only context I have is your stunting abilities.”

“you can call me pretty much anything except for that.” you laugh “but Y/N would be preferable.”

All three men give you a smile and it’s shocking how surprisingly comfortable you are, despite the fact that you ARE a fan of theirs.

“Y/N it is.” he nods, taking a step towards the door. “Want to eat lunch with us?”

“Am I allowed?” you raise both eyebrows and imagine you probably look like a deer in headlights.

“Not really.” He admits. “but if we eat lunch with all of the dancers…nobody will know we’re there to eat lunch with you!”

You quirk your head to the side.

“We’ve learned that you can’t get an idea out of his head once it’s in there.” Dokyeom shares, placing a soft hand on your back to urge you in the direction of the door. “best to just go with it.”

_____

Showing up to the cafeteria with three members at your side makes you instantly the most popular in your team. Everyone starts whispering and trying to talk to you. Soonyoung texted jihoon to come as well, so he showed up minutes later taking the seat across from Zdae. They hit it off quickly and built, what you assume to be, a friendship. All of the members seemed to click with him to be honest.

You spent most of the meal trying to breathe like a normal human despite the fact that Soonyoung was sitting right next to you, picking food off of your plate and cracking jokes. You learned that he has a sister and mostly visits her to play with her dog, latte. He told you that he loves kimchi, sure, but really his favorite food is simple ramen. (yours is too). He teaches you how to use chopsticks better since you kinda suck at using them…symptom of growing up with a fork.

He compliments your hair and your eyes and makes your stomach fill with butterflies. He’s easy to talk to and despite being famous, treats you like his equal. He’s a bit touchy, occasionally touching your arm as you talk or maybe bumping shoulders in a laugh. You definitely don’t hate it…

Dokyeom is pretty talkative with you as well. You learn that he actually does have a girlfriend - and the NDA you signed to get this job most certainly includes that information. They’ve been dating for three years and he really wants to propose, but the company doesn’t want him to until the no dating contract is up. Apparently the no dating contract is really a rule that they can’t date publicly. They’re pretty free to do what they want behind closed doors. (and away from cameras). You learn that some other members are in relationships as well, but it’s up to them if they want to share those details.

“are you in a relationship?” you ask soonyoung, a little surprised by your own directness.

“no” he replies calmly. “I never have been.”

“bitchless little guy” Seungkwan cuts in, stealing some food from his friend’s plate. “too romantic for his own good.”

“hey, what does romance have to do with being bitchless?” you ask, guarding your plate from thievery. “girls like romance!”

“he gets too in his head when he likes a girl.” Seungkwan explains. “starts planning out their whole future and scares her right away.”

You laugh and look over to see Soonyoung’s face turning a bright shade of red. “I’m not bitchless and i don’t scare girls away!” he pouts, crossing his arms.

“If i wanted to date someone I would! I just haven’t found the right person.” he defends.

“And you have lots of experience? you question, pointing a piece of chicken in Seungkwan’s direction.

“Well… sort of.” He blinks, and you bite your lip.

“how much experience do you have to make fun of him?” you point the now empty chopstick to your right.

“I’ve at least kissed a girl!” He says, arms up in the air. “That gives me a point!”

“Have you gone on a date? had a girlfriend?” you lean forward.

“well.. no.”

“boyfriend?”

“no..”

“flirtationship?”

��I don’t even know what that is.”

“so case closed. You’re both bitchless.” you conclude, and Dokyeom practically spits out his water in a fit of laughter.

Seungkwan sinks into his chair with a grumpy face and soonyoung wraps you into a hug. He’s practically vibrating as he points and laughs at his friend. “She’s right! You have no right to tease me because you’re equally as single! Y/N I LOVE YOU!”

You let out a chuckle and push him off of you before he has the chance to spill any food on your lap.

You look down to see your phone ringing with no contact, but you’d recognize the number anywhere. Your smile drops a bit.

“speaking of relationships…that one used to be mine.” you stare at the phone, trying to decide if you should pick it up or not. All three boys are staring at you expectantly, so you slide the screen and hold it up to your ear.

“what.” you answer coldly.

“Well that’s no way to answer the phone” the male voice on the other end scolds.

“teach me about manners when you’ve learned some of your own. What do you need.”

“I need my pink hoodie back.”

“You gave that to the girl i caught you cheating with. She was literally wearing it when I walked in on you.”

“No. Angela said she doesn’t have it either!”

“Seems like a you problem. Maybe the next girl ended up with it. Bye.” You hang up before he can say anything else.

Even Jihoon and Zdae are looking at you now, 5 jaws practically on the floor.

“badass.” Jihoon finally breaks the silence, taking a bite of his rice.

“cheater?” Zdae asks, making a ‘sorry’ face.

“don’t give me that face.” you furrow your eyebrows. “everyone gives me that face when they find out.”

“pretty sure that sucks worse than being bitchless.” Soonyoung cuts in, putting an arm around you. “We’ll make sure your next guy is properly vetted.”

you smile at him before the alarm on your cell goes off, signaling that it’s time to go back to practice.

“thanks.” you answer, before standing up.

____

The rest of the month flies by in a blur. Not much time to interact with the members since they’re preparing intensely for the upcoming comeback. Sure you’ve seen them during rehearsals a few times a week, and in passing around the building, but it’s mostly short interactions. You have filming for the music video in ten days, and everyone is excited. You’ve done professional work before in America, but this is the biggest project you’ve had the opportunity to work on. You’re buzzing with energy and can’t wait to see the finished product.

Today you’re doing costume fittings on a different floor of the building. They have a whole room full of fabric and sewing machines and computers for online shopping. The stylists are super nice and you’re in the middle of chatting with one of them during your fitting when Soonyoung walks in.

“Hoshi, you’re early!” she says, spinning you around to place some pins in your outfit. It’s skin tight and black, you’d like to say it accentuates your figure nicely. Based on the (not so subtle) up-and- down look he gives you, you must be right.

“I finished my adlib recording faster than scheduled so I figured I’d just come straight here.” he shares, sitting down in the swivel chair to your left.

“This outfit suits you, Y/N” he smiles, making you involuntarily blush.

“It’s because the stylists are so talented.” you deflect.

“that too, but really, you look nice.” he says.

You can’t help but wonder how he’s never had a girlfriend. He’s kind of flirty and really easy to get along with. He’s cute and friendly, and talented and rich and famous and hot and he’s got that waist… and he’s tall and strong and…

holy fuck. you have a crush…

you’re not sure how long you’ve zoned out so you shake your head and shoot back a quick “thank you.”

The stylist, Isa gives you a tap on the waist indicating that you’re done and can use the dressing room to change back into your own clothes. You step off of the little pedestal she had you on, with the help of Soonyoung’s hand for stability. HIs hand is soft, and lingers for just a second too long for your sanity.

You quickly rush to the dressing room and hear him laugh behind you, starting a conversation with Isa.

When you come back, you’re wearing jeans and a baby tee. You’re surprised to see hoshi has no shirt on and Isa is measuring his waist.

you can hear your heart beating loudly in your ears. He has the most delicious abs you’ve ever seen. a light sheen of sweat forming on his chest and glistening down towards a deep V into his pants. His skin has a light golden tan from recent time spent in the sun and you’re mesmerized. His hair is currently long and blonde with some tints of purple, and his eyes land right on yours…or rather…on your eyes that are staring directly at his topless chest. He notices right away where your focus is and can’t help but smirk. He’s kind enough not to say anything though.

You kind of just open and close your mouth like a fish out of water before he finally breaks the silence.

“Any plans tonight, Y/N?”

“Um no, not really.” you answer, finally looking upwards at his eyes.

“Some of the members are hanging out at Mingyu and Wonwoo’s house if you want to come. Dokyeom already invited Isa.”

You lean around him to look at Isa with realization in your eyes. “oh…..are you…..”

“yes. I’m his girlfriend.” she confirms, blushing at the thought of her relationship. “and the number one person who tells about it is Soonyoung.” she glares at him.

“I can’t help it!!!!” he cries. “I love love!”

“awww I can already tell you’re so cute together” you want to squeal but hope your voice came out more composed than that.

She grins back. “thank you! I really love him….” she stares into space. “you should totally come by the way!” she adds.

“I swear I’ll be wearing a shirt” Soonyoung promises.

“what a shame” you quip, regaining some sense of your character. “I really hoped you’d stay shirtless, mr. 6 pack.”

you turn to exit the room. “I’ll come though. See you later.”

With your back to him, you don’t see the massive grin on Soonyoung’s face.

___

You pass DK in the hallway just outside.

“Isa huh?” you greeted him. “She’s so cute” you give him two thumbs up.

“Isn’t she!?” he blushes. “You should be friends.”

“I would be friends with her.” you admit honestly, before adding joke “Then I can make sure all of my costumes are the best!”

“Why do you think I hit on her in the first place!!?”

you laugh and pat his arm. “anyways, I have some work to finish so I’ll see you tonight.”

“You’re coming?” His eyes light up.

“yeah, hope that’s okay.”

“more than!” he answers. “Glad soonyoung finally grew some balls.”

“How do you know he was the one who invited me?”

“bro code, duh.” he answers as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, before waving you goodbye.

You walk away, unable to hide your smile. ‘bro code’ can only mean one thing…He’s talked about you! (right?)

___

The important work you have to take care of includes a full body shower. The works. Shaving, lotion, a healthy amount of perfume. You live alone so you don’t really have anyone to bounce outfit ideas off of, leading to a pile of dresses on your bed. What does someone wear to a “hang out” at a celebrity’s house?

You finally cave and FaceTime Zdae, who picks up on the first ring.

“Zdae. I have an emergency.”

“What’s wrong? where are you?”

“It’s a fashion emergency.”

you see his shoulders visibly relax. “Good god you should have led with that.”

“Sorry!” You apologize, showing the pile of clothes on your bed. “I’ve been invited to some of the members’ “intimate hang out” and i don’t know what the fuck to wear!” you whine.

“oh honey..” he sighs, “I hate to break it to you but this is not an intimate hang out. This is a party.”

“Are you going?”

“to minwon’s house? everyone is going.”

you pout. “how long have you known about this.”

“since like two days ago?” he responds as more of a question than an answer. “why are you so freaked?”

“if I tell you please keep it between us.”

“deal.”

“First of all I just found out about this two hours ago.” you huff. “and I’m nervous because Soonyoung invited me and DK made a weird comment about him inviting me and I kinda think I like him and…”

Zdae cuts off your rant with a laugh. “Girl anyone within a ten mile radius can tell you’ve got the hots for each other. Just wear something sexy and fuck him already.”

You gasp, scandalized and hit your phone camera. “I will not ‘fuck him already’ he’s a virgin!”

“and?”

“I’m not going to treat him like a hookup! good lord!” you whine.

“Okay!!!” he chuckles. “Then wear like a sundress and flirt with him a little. Maybe give him a kiss or something.” He offers.

“Red or Blue?” you ask, holding up two of your favorite dresses.

“Red. Deeeefinitely red.”

____

You arrive to the party about an hour late, hopping out of your Uber in your black strap heels. You’re a little nervous all of the sudden, brushing the wrinkles out of your dress. It’s simple, plain red with inch wide straps and ending just above your knee. It’s not too tight, a little flowy and summery. You’d like to think it can pass as innocent or sexy depending on the person looking.

You walk up to the door but don’t get a chance to knock before it opens, A massively drunk Jeonghan in your path. “Heyyy! She came!” He slurs, getting pulled back by Seungcheol.”

“Yes, now stop trying to leave the house.” He declares, pulling him back towards the living room.

“Welcome to chaos.” Coups says before disappearing into the crowd.

You follow behind them, recognizing most of the dancers and staff members from around the building. There’s a few other idols here too from other groups, you recognize Yeonjun and Changbin hanging in a circle with Dino. As a fellow 1999 liner you’re tempted to introduce yourself, but fight against the urge in favor of finding Soonyoung…or Zdae…Or DK and Isa. Just someone you know, really.

You pass by Jihoon and Wonwoo having a conversation in the entry room (quieter for the introverts, you assume).

Joshua and Jun are loudly singing karaoke on top of the coffee table and the kitchen houses an intense game of beer pong, which is where you find Soonyoung and DK on one team, versing Isa and who you assume must be one of her friends.

“Hi guys!” you greet, walking up to the game. “Who’s winning?”

“Not us.” Soonyoung slurs, already a bit drunk. “We might need a celeb shot.” He says, holding the ball towards you.

“But you’re the celebrity” you joke, moving to grab the ping pong ball from him. “But you’re sober which means you’ll help us win!” he explains, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Thanks for coming by the way” he whispers into your ear, sending chills down your spine. You turn your face to look at him, very close up. He smells like a mixture of alcohol and cologne, and you immediately notice how pretty his eyes are. You’ve seen his strong, intense gaze in the practice room or on stage, but here he has a softer gaze, wide, boba eyes that you could get lost in for hours.

“I couldn’t say no to a shirtless superstar.” you look down at his outfit. “too bad you kept your promise and put clothes on.”

You don’t miss the breif flash of lust in his eyes before stepping back so you can aim your shot. You make it in the solo cup without a bounce and shoot for DK too, giving them two points and balls back. “Do it again!!!” he begs, arm wrapping around you once more.

“No way!” Isa shouts. “Drunk people versus drunk people!”

you laugh and agree with her. “No more from me. come find me when you’re done.” you leave with a wink, but not before grabbing a bottle of soju off of the counter.

Zdae is sitting in the family room, laughing at the Karaoke. He has a girl curled up into his side so you decide not to interrupt. Instead you find Seungkwan chatting with Vernon and approach them for a conversation.

“Y/N you made it!” Seungkwan cheers, giving you a hug. “I was worried you would’t show.”

“I was a little nervous..” you admit. “but I’m glad I came!”

“Don’t be nervous.” Vernon counsels. “99% of the people here are big drunk idiots who sing and dance for a living.” He holds up his beer in a ‘cheers’ motion.

you hold up your drink. “cheers to somehow turning theatre nerd into a career.”

“you were a theatre nerd too?” Seungkwan asks

“Oh no. I was the captain of my dance team in high school and college, but I have to make the rest of you feel good about yourselves.” you blink, resulting in a famous seungkwan side eye.

Vernon looks impressed and you launch into a conversation about growing up in the US, Joshua joining in once his karaoke performance ends. You compare notes with him about high school football games and Prom since he lived there longer than Vernon did. You’re in the middle of telling a story about the time your ex boyfriend passed out on a roller coaster at Disney World when Soonyoung sneaks up behind you. He wraps you in a back hug and snuggles his drunk little head right into your shoulder.

“We won. he giggles into you, and you shiver and the vibrations of his lips on your skin, it tickles, but in a good way.

“It was because of my help, wasn��t it?” You quip.

“It was because I wanted the game to be over.” he answers, hugging tighter. “I entered tiger mode.”

“why is that?” you smile.

“So i could find you, silly!”

you turn around in his grip so you’re hugging face to face. “You’re definitely drunk.” you note.

“yes, very much so.” he states. “so you should take care of me!” he grabs your cheeks. “You’re so cute!”

you smile at how childlike drunk soonyoung can be, so you bid the others goodbye and drag him towards the back of the house. You find a spare bedroom, based on the decor you assume it’s Mingyu’s. You lay him down on the bed and try to find a blanket before he pulls you on top of him. It startles you and you let out a little noise.

“Soonyoung!”

“Call me something else.”

“like what?”

“I don’t know. A nickname only you get.”

“I can call you Hoshi?”

“No!” he whines. “the whole world calls me that. I want you to call me something special.”

“Like Tiger?”

“yes!” he cheers, “but also no. something better.”

“How about Soonie?” you suggest, moving off of him and laying on your back next to him.

he turns onto his side, needing to be closer to you. “I like that one.”

“Okay” you whisper, turning on your side too so you’re laying face to face. “I’ll call you soonie. but only when we’re alone. If I say it around other people they’ll assume we’re dating.”

“What if I want them to think that?” he grabs your hand, thumb circling yours. it feels electric, and you want nothing more to kiss him.

“We don’t even know each other that closely.”

“Can we?” he asks, eyes pleading. “Can I take you on a date.”

You can feel the mood has shifted. He doesn’t seem whiny and drunk anymore… he just seems whiny and desperate for you to like him back - something you find endearing and sweet.

“If you really want to do that when you’re sober, then yes. I would love to go on a date with you.”

“And if the date goes well, will you go on more dates with me and be my girlfriend?”

you softly giggle. “yes.”

“and you’ll call me cute nicknames?”

“yes.”

“and when you’re my girlfriend you’ll kiss me?”

“I’ll kiss you right now. Have you ever kissed a girl, Soonie?”

“I’d like to.”

You lean forward and capture his lips in a soft kiss. It’s gentle and sweet, and you take note of how warm and plush his lips truly are. His arm drags up yours to rest in your hair, tickling that perfectly sensitive spot right under your ear. He tests the waters with his tongue, timidly at first, and then growing in confidence. you wrap your arm around him, pulling him closer into you, wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever. You probably would have too, if the door didn’t slam open.

You jerk upwards to find an equally charged couple making out in the doorway. You actually aren’t too surprised when you realize it’s Seungcheol and Jeonghan. You lean up on an elbow and Soonyoung twists onto his back again so he can lean up on both elbows.

“Seriously?” he groans. “You can’t learn to knock?”

“It’s not even your room.” Cheol shoots, taking note of you on the bed. His eyes grow wide when he realizes what they burst in on. “Oh my god!” he gasps. “Little hosh got his first kiss!” he giggles into Jeonghan’s cheek. “finally!”

Jeonghan just locks eyes with you, looking a bit nervous.

“NDA, i know.” you whisper to him, and he visibly relaxes, hugging cheol tighter. He smiles and joins in on Cheol’s teasing. “Little tiger and his little tigress.”

“absolutely not.” you sit up further “i will support the tiger agenda but I am not a ‘tigress’.”

“we’ll be talking about that one later.” Soonyoung objects, “She’ll come around to it.”

“I positively will not!” you pinch his arm and he winces.

“Anyways. Can you guys leave?” he pleads his Hyungs. “We’re kind of busy.”

“Actually…” you interrupt. “can we continue this when you’re sober, pretty please?”

you can see that this upsets him a bit, but you really don’t want him to share anything beyond his first kiss with you while he’s inebriated.

“Fine. But will you dance with me?”

you nod and crawl over him to stand up, pulling him up with you.

“Room’s yours” you pat Seungcheol’s shoulder. “but i’d recommend locking the door.”

You drag Soonyoung behind you with hands connected, and look back to see his smiley face almost looking dazed. He looks like a happy little puppy and you feel your cuteness aggression raging.

Arriving in the main room, you find Minghao running the aux. You request a danceable song and he agrees, switching to an upbeat track. The lights are dimmed and someone (probably Wonwoo) has connected those cool speakers that change colors with the beat of the music. The room is filled with bright flashes of reds and blues and you jump around wildly with Soonyoung - who quickly embodies Hoshi - for what feels like hours. You continue to sip on some drinks until you feel your own body giving into the alcohol, latching onto your crush like a lifeline into the real world.

You might remember bits and pieces of this part tomorrow, but you hope you remember it when he leans in and whispers “you’re so beautiful” into your ear.

______

You wake up the next morning in your own bed. How you got there, you have absolutely no idea. You sit up and whine at the instant headache forming in your forehead, but ignore it to grab your phone. It’s already noon, and you wrack your brain to figure out what your original plans were for today. Is there anything important you’re missing?

Before you can fully re-enter reality, you hear a knock at the bedroom door. Your body stills, assuming someone came home with you last night. You hope it was Soonyoung but there’s not much you remember after your kiss.

“come in” you call, straightening your hair.

You feel a bit relieved when Isa is the one who comes in - holding a cup of tea.

“hi party girl” she greets you, setting the cup on your side table. “If I didn’t already think you were meant for Soonyoung before, I definitely do now.”

“What does that mean?”

“it means neither of you can handle your alcohol” she jokes, handing you some painkillers. “How’s your hangover?”

“horrid” you groan, flopping back onto your pillow. “I definitely drank too much.”

she giggles “yes, but did you at least have fun?”

“yes” you blush. “I um… Soonyoung and I… we kissed i think?”

“It’s all he talked about all night.”

“really?”

“Oh yeah, he’s like WHIPPED whipped for you.”

you feel an entire zoo in your stomach. soonyoung likes you? Like LIKES you more than for a kiss at a party?

“tell me everything.” you practically beg. “I definitely only remember bits and pieces from last night.”

She launches into a pretty descriptive play by play of the evening. You learn that after leaving Mingyu’s bedroom, Soonyoung had his hands and eyes on you all night. Whether it was his hands around your waist or holding your hands with his. He danced with you and everyone saw him whispering things into your ear. You wish you could remember more of what he was saying.

You also learn that he kissed you some more, on the couch. Mingyu practically had to pull him off of you when the party was over so he could take Soonyoung to bed. Nobody knew your address at first so they thought you might have to stay at MinWon’s house. Eventually, after asking around a bit, Isa figured out that Zdae had your address so he gave it to Isa and she promised to get you home safe.

She stayed in your guest room - which apparently a drunk version of you offered to her. Dokyeom was on his way now with breakfast and a change of clothes for her. You thank her for being so caring and offer your shower, which she graciously accepts, after you wash up first.

She’s still washing up when DK arrives. You hear the knock at the door and open it for him, shocked to see that Soonyoung is with him.

“Hi guys.” you greet, stomach doing somersaults at how handsome Hoshi looks. He’s wearing a diesel outfit you recognize from a recent photoshoot. It’s a denim jacket that zips from both the top and the bottom. He has it slightly zipped up at the bottom, revealing a sneak peak of his abs. You look down at the shorts/hoodie set you’re wearing and remember that you have wet hair. You might have been embarrassed were it not for the beaming smile Soonyoung was giving you.

They come inside and Dokyeom sets the food on the table. He asks where your guest bathroom is and you direct him towards it, leaving you alone with Soonyoung.

“I had fun last night.” He starts, stepping towards you. “Sorry if I was too touchy.”

your heart flutters that he was nervous about that. You’ve always been a touchy person and don’t mind in the slightest.

“You were perfect.” you reply, giving him a hug and resting your ear against his chest. You hear his heart beating strongly and smile to yourself, now aware of the effect you have on him.

“please tell me that asking me on a date wasn’t just drunk you babbling.” you ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“I am one-hundred percent sober and still asking you to go on a date with me.” he responds, squeezing you in the embrace.

“good.” you smile. “I’m soberly accepting your invitation.”

You feel his muscles relax - you didn’t realize they were tensed up - and giggle.

“When and Where?” you question, pulling back far enough to look him in the eyes.

“I was hoping my house, tomorrow?” he bites his lip. “We can’t really like…go out in public….but we can order some fancy takeout and build a fort and watch a movie?”

“i’d like that, Soonie.” You notice his immediate smile at your little nickname.

“me too.”

Dokyeom comes out of the bathroom loudly singing (shocker) and Isa must hear him through the wall because she starts singing the same song. You both laugh at how in sync they are and start opening food boxes, preparing to eat.

Once Isa gets out of the shower you all sit around the table together like a little double date. You laugh and joke for about an hour before Soonyoung puts his hand on your thigh. You warm up at the touch and the desire to spend some alone time with him hits you like a train. You put your hand on top of his and he smiles, the other two completely oblivious and in their own world.

You would kick the others out right this minute if you could, but you know that’s rude, and you’re looking forward to a proper date tomorrow. So you curb the instinct and continue enjoying the others’ company…but not without a little flirting. you place your hand on top of soonyoung’s and brush your feet together at random times through the meal. You can feel him tense up a little every time you touch, and you see blush enter his cheeks. He’s so cute!

Around 3:00 the boys have to leave for a schedule, so Isa heads out too, giving you time to yourself. You give them all hugs goodbye and kiss Soonyoung on the cheek before closing the door. You jump up and down to yourself the minute you’re alone. SOONYOUNG LIKES YOU!!!!!! AH!

You spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning up your home and planning what you’re going to wear tomorrow. You want to be cute, but you also want to be comfortable for movie night. You end up settling on a pair of grey sweatpants and an oversized shirt from a SEVENTEEN concert you went to like 5 years ago. You figure he might get a giggle out of seeing you in a shirt with his name on it.

You also run to the store and grab supplies to make homemade kimchi. He’s talked a lot about how much he loves his mom’s, and you decide that showing up with some of your own would be a sweet surprise that shows how you think about him even when he’s not around. (which you have been…a lot lately). You also grab some soju to bring, and get your hair touched up at the salon.

You might also get a mani pedi and take another everything shower…but that’s just usual self care. Nobody can blame a girl for wanting to look nice!

You’re definitely not nervous!

___

Okay. You might be a little nervous, standing outside Soonyoung’s front door. It’s been all over the news lately that he paid 5.1 billion won out of pocket for this apartment, and you’re curious to see how he lives inside of it. He answers the door with a smile and you can’t help but giggle at the fact that you’re matching. He’s wearing grey sweats and a black shirt, just like you. He smiles at the bowl of kimchi in your hands and quickly takes it from you before ushering you inside.

“I’m so glad you came” he smiles, pulling you into a hug once everything has been set down on the entry way table.

“Me too” you sigh, enjoying the soft smell of his laundry detergent mixed with his cologne. You could stay wrapped up in his arms all day.

He must realize how comfortable you are, because he rests his chin on top of your head and pulls you slightly closer as he says “want a house tour?”

“Yes!” you cheer, slipping out of the hug and smoothly holding his hand instead.

He squeezes it back, almost like he’s checking to see if you’re real. Or maybe because he just doesn’t want you to let go.

He leads you throughout the space and you gawk at how beautiful the tall ceilings and modern furniture are. You love how he’s set aside a space for Latte (his sister’s dog) for when she comes to visit, and can’t help but swoon over the way that he’s set up a tall stack of pretty much every sheet, pillow and blanket he owns so you can make “the ultimate fort.”

His bedroom is clean and organized, almost like a hotel. You smile at the picture of his family, which is in a frame on his bedside table, and notice the framed picture of seventeen on top of a mountain on his wall. He explains that they took the picture on a hike right before they debuted, a moment that means a lot for him.

“You all must mean a lot to each other.” you say, mostly stating a fact you already know with certainty.

“They’re my family.” he stands behind you, giving you a back hug as you both admire the picture. “and family is everything to me.”

You lean back into him and smile, briefly imagining what it would be like if this night goes well. If you end up dating and ending up together. Imagining a picture of the two of you together on that wall. But you reign it in because this is literally your first official date and you need to be realistic.

“I miss my family a lot.” you admit. “they’re back in America. and I know they support me and understand that being here is my dream, but it doesn’t make it easier to be away from them.”

“are you close?” he asks.

“very. I talk to my parents every chance I get, and my sister knows more about me than I think I know about myself!” you laugh.

“You should invite them to visit sometime!” he suggests. “Maybe they can come see you perform.”

“you mean see you perform.” you tease, turning around in his arms so you’re face to face.

“I might be there too.” He smirks. “But one thing I know, is that you shine when you’re dancing. You smile very genuinely, and everyone can see that you’re happy. If your family came to see you, I don’t think any amount of singing or talking from us could drag away their attention from you.”

“Who knew you could be so serious and sweet” you breathe, fighting back a rogue tear from his kind words.

He sees the tear anyway, and wipes it away with his thumb. “There’s a lot you still don’t know about me, Y/N.” He uses a shortened version of your name and the butterflies in your stomach go crazy while you follow him back to the living room.

“I want to know more about you” you admit, sitting next to him on the couch.

“Ask me anything.”

“hmmm” you think aloud, “I guess the biggest question I have is kind of a serious one.” you clasp your hands in front of you nervously. “Is that okay?”

“I can handle serious.” He promises.

“Out of everyone you’ve met and worked with over the past several years, why haven’t you dated anyone? And secondly why are you interested in me? You’ve probably met movie stars and models and idols and…”

He cuts you off with a short kiss, which startles you and leaves your eyes wide like a deer.

“None of those people know anything about me.” He starts, “at least not really.”

You tilt your body towards him and nod for him to continue.

“The day that we met, when we went to lunch?” He says this in a questioning tone, as if to see if you remember.

“yeah?”

“I knew I liked you that day.”

“why?”

“You’re just different than other women I’ve spent time around. You asked me random questions about my family dog and my favorite foods. Most of the time I get asked to spill secrets about our next comeback…or I get drilled on what fashion brand I’m wearing and how much money I think that yacht in the distance is worth. You were cute and funny and easy to joke around with. You stood up for me when Seungkwan was teasing me…but then teased both of us right after. It’s like we already had this playful dynamic without even properly knowing each other. It was just easy.”

You grab one of his hands and look into his eyes, you can tell he’s telling the truth. He licks his lips and bites the bottom one lightly, looking almost a little nervous. You look down at your lap, suddenly feeling a bit bashful yourself. Nobody has ever talked to you like this. So transparent about what’s going on in their head…so complimentary. What you don’t see when you’re looking down is the way that he can read your thoughts like a book. And he wants you to know exactly how wonderful he thinks you are, so he pushes onwards with his explanation.

“and I don’t mean easy like shallow. or easy like I wouldn’t fight to be close to you. I mean easy like….” he thinks for a moment, “Like we’d known each other for longer than a day. Easy like, I could see myself eating meals with you and joking around like that more often. Easy like….like I looked at you eating your Hybe Cafeteria Chicken and thought ‘she is the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen and I hope I get to kiss her one day’ and that thought didn’t scare me away like it has before. I was comfortable with it.”

You open your mouth to object about being beautiful, but he stops you before you can speak. He must have seen it in your facial expression, because he contradicts your contradiction immediately.

“And don’t you dare say you’re not the most beautiful woman on this earth because I think you are.” He rubs the lower part of your arm between your wrist and your elbow in a comforting way. “You’re right when you say that I’ve worked with other Idols or Models…but none of them have this pure joy radiating from them the way you do. You’re like a star that I’m drawn towards, as cheesy as it might sound.”

“and here I was thinking you just liked my backflip.” You joke, playing with his fingers again.

He chuckles lightly.

“If I’m being honest..” you explain, “I’ve liked you since before we met. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit now, but I’ve always been a fan of SEVENTEEN.” you gesture to your tour shirt. “and don’t worry, you were totally my bias from day one.” you pinch his cheek. “I’ve always liked your energy and your ability to lift the mood even when everyone is tired or sulky. You’re talented as hell, and I hope to dance like you one day.”

“Ahhh so it’s my star quality that draws you in.” He jokes, poking you in the side. You’re really ticklish there so you swat at his hand and squirm away before speaking again.

“At first, duh.” you giggle. “But I also realized I LIKE liked you as a person - and not just a celebrity - Friday morning when you invited me to the party. First of all I saw you shirtless and that had me…delusional.” your cheeks flush bright red at the confession. “and then when you invited me, I thought it was sweet of you. I thought about how you could be spending the night with anyone, but you wanted me to be with you. And then I showed up and you were interested in me, and you were cute and funny and so adorable.”

You didn’t realize how embarrassing this was until Soonyoung has to grab your chin to make you look up from your lap.

“…and That’s when I started reflecting on the day you invited me to lunch, and I realized that at this point, you had invited me to two different things of your own free will. You were treating me like a normal person and not just some backup dancer or replaceable part of your life. You were interested in me and you were funny. I like that you’re close to your family and I like that you treat your mom like a queen. I like that you’re rich and famous and could probably have any girl…or guy…that you could possibly want and yet you’ve remained single out of hopes to find something genuine and special and real.”

At this point you’re kind of just word vomiting, and he’s letting you.

“I agree that talking to you has always felt easy and comfortable, and I noticed even yesterday that you were thoughtful enough to join Dokyeom to my house to bring me food and make sure I was okay after drinking a lot. I like that you’re kind of touchy, because I am too, and I really, really like kissing you.”

“Oh, you do now?” he wiggles his eyebrows and shifts his body to place his feet firmly on the floor. In one shift movement he pulls you so that you’re straddling his lap, faces close as can be. “I wasn’t sure If I’d be good at it yet.”

“We could always practice?”

Without answering, he leans the last inch or two between you to connect your lips. Just like before, you relax into his body and appreciate how plush and soft his lips are. He must have recently sucked on a candy, because he tastes sugary and sweet. You hum softly into his mouth, sending vibrations through his entire body. Your hands explore each other, starting in each other’s hair and working around to necks, arms and hips. You eventually place both hands on his cheeks and angle his head upwards, deepening the kiss with the new angle. this time it’s his turn to make a noise, his hum a bit bigger…You suppose it could be classified as a full on moan.

You smile into him, and he does too, causing you to clash teeth a little, and you both giggle. It doesn’t last for too long before you’re back to learning what makes the other tick. You learn that he’s super sensitive when your hands graze his lower stomach. When your hands touch there, he leans into you a bit more and his abdominal muscles tense. He also tends to tighten his grip on you when you brush that skin.

He also learns that you love to be touched on your lower back, having a similar reaction when he goes there. You also love when he accidentally grinds into you a bit. In his defense, he did not have plans to move past kissing today, but his body spoke for itself…and so did yours. You might accidentally grind along his lap too, earning another gasp from his mouth. You almost forgot that he’s never been touched in this way, and want to take things slow for his sake.

“soonie” you whine into his ear, and he loves that you’re using his nickname. “I want to take this at your pace. Especially since it’s your first time.”

“baby” he groans, throwing his head back into the couch cushions. “I didn’t think I was ready for more but….would you want to…can we…I…I know it’s only our first date but…”

You could faint at how adorable his nervous stuttering is.

“If you’re saying you’re open to more…” you let your words draw out a little. “I’m completely and fully giving you consent to go as far as you want.” you answer confidently.

“fuck” he almost whispers to himself, but you hear it loud and clear, sending a wet patch straight to your core. “I want to go further.” He admits, grinding against you again, a little harder.

You grip onto his shoulders like a lifeline, the sensation sending a chill through your spine.

“then take my shirt off and show me how those dancer hips can move.”

He moves slowly at first, a little timid, but you can see a burning desire in his eyes. Lust like you’ve never seen in a previous partner.

He starts at the bottom of your shirt and slides it up, taking his time to rub that sensitive spot on your lower back again. You arch into him and raise your hands above your head, making it easier for him to remove the shirt.

His eyes go wider than someone with his cute little mono lids are usually able to when he realizes that you’ve put on some black, lacy lingerie.

“it’s a matching set… just in case…” you mention, voice a bit gravely now from how turned on you feel.

You physically feel his dick twitch underneath you, and you grind against him again.

“shit” he sighs, “you’re beautiful”

“I like it when you say that” you admit, leaning in for another kiss, pulling at his shirt in the process. He helps you lift it off and now It’s your turn to look at his body, leaving you completely awe struck (again). You’ve seen him shirtless before, but this time you have permission to actually look.

“oh my god” you sigh, leaning back in his lap a bit so you can get the whole view. “You’re built like a fucking god, babe.” you lean back into your neutral position so you can touch him, bringing your hands right to that sensitive spot on his abs and moving upwards, enjoying every line and dip in his honey skin. His core is hard as a rock, yet the skin is soft and smooth. When you get to his chest, you pinch his nipples lightly in passing and he reacts.

“oh” his eyes, previously closing in pleasure open wider. “that feels good.”

“I know” you lean in, lightly kissing his neck, “I want to teach you everything that feels good.”

“okay” he breaths, airy and sweet.

“Can I take your pants off?” You ask, moving to the floor so you can get on your knees in front of him.

“wait” he’s pulled out of his haze for a moment. “can I…can I actually take yours off instead?”

“If that makes you most comfortable, then yes.” you stand, pulling at your sweats.”

he helps you pull them down and from your standing position, your lacy bottoms are right in front of his face, practically having him salivating.

“It’s not that I don’t want my pants off” he shares “I just want to please you first.”

You’ve never had a partner give you head willingly, and never first. Everyone you’ve been with in the past has practically begged you to suck them off, and eating you out seemed like a chore they did afterwards out of obligation. Your surprise must register on your face, because he speaks up again, “why does that seem to shock you?”

“I’ve never had someone want to start with me before.” you admit, shyly.

“well then” he stands up, grabbing your hand, “it’s a good thing we met.” he smiles and you melt at how hot he looks with his messed up hair as he leads you towards his bedroom, clothes abandoned.

He gently pushes you back onto the bed and puts one of his knees up on the mattress, hovering over you. You peek down at his grey sweats (the last legitimate clothing item of either of you still on), and see a bulge growing underneath. Your stomach does a flip but you don’t have much time to focus on that because He leans in, kissing right underneath your ear before starting a trail downwards, slowly. Once he reaches your collarbone area, his hands find your clothed cunt and start rubbing slow, lazy circles.

You suck in a sharp breath, arching into him at the touch.

He takes this as a sign to keep going, and moves his fingers so they’re inside your panties. his eyes practically roll into the back of his head when he feels how wet you are already.

He circles and rubs with his middle and ring finger for a while, testing how you react to each movement. Every time he uses the perfect speed or perfect amount of pressure he notices your mouth open up a bit wider, involuntarily. Your neck loses it’s ability to hold your head up and you throw it back into the pillow he placed underneath you. He finally inserts his middle finger, earning a gasp and a “please” breathed towards the ceiling.

“please” he kisses your breast through the black lace. “please what, baby?”

“more” you whine, “keep going but use another finger.”

He inserts another finger and curls them right into the spongy patch that will surely be your undoing.

“yes” you pant “right there, yes”

He continues kissing your collarbone and chest, anything he can get his mouth on around the lingerie, and you grab onto his hair with one hand, and his shoulder with the other, treating him like a lifeline to this plane of existence.

“you’re sure…” you gasp “you’ve” a moan “never done” a breath “this before?” you can’t even speak, he’s started circling your clit with his other hand and white is invading your vision.

You close your eyes and let the pleasure overtake you, you feel so pent up and hot and tense but also so incredibly free and relaxed at the same moment.

“so close, so close, soonie, fuck” you mumble. You think he’s saying something, but you can’t hear it past the ringing in your ears. Can’t feel anything except for the pressure building in your stomach, past the shaky legs and warm sensation of his lips sucking hickeys into your skin. Can’t think about anything other than how he’s making you feel so, so good.

“I’m gonna come” you moan, right before the tension snaps like a rope and slips out of you like honey, covering his fingers in white creamy cum. He brings his hands up to his mouth and sucks the liquid off of them, humming as he does so.

You register his movements and smile at how experienced he looks. He looks so sexy, leaning over you with his fingers in his mouth, dazed look appreciating your own fucked out face. You don’t know what to say. You’ve literally never had this kind of reaction to fingering - let alone from someone who is doing it for their first time.

“Was that okay?” he whispers into your ear, laying his body half on top of you and half on the bed next to you, hands resting one on your hip and the other brushing the hair behind your ear.

“Oh soonie, that was the best I’ve ever had” you grab his chin with your free hand not currently under the weight of his body. You tilt his head so you can kiss him on the cheek, and then again on the mouth. You pull away in between pecks to add “I don’t think you need any practice.”

“really?” he perks up, looking a little bit like a puppy. “You mean it?”

You giggle at how excited he became, leaning up on your elbows so you can smoothly flip over, your body now leaning over his.

“Really. But if you wanted to practice on me, you can …any fucking time.”

Mind (mostly) back into your own body now, you sit yourself up, perfectly straddling his lap. You lightly grind on his clothed dick and watch his face scrunch up at the feeling. You grind once more before standing up to pull his pants off. He lifts his hips to help you, as you pull his boxers off in one go.

He’s huge.

Like. Really long.

You stare at it in awe for, a few seconds before he makes a “um” noise and you look up at his red face.

“is it uh…too big?” he looks so shy and it’s cute. You drop to your knees and lean forward to grab it with one hand, other resting on his knee.

“no” you wink “It’s gonna feel fantastic.”

You pump your hand a bit before he wraps his own over yours, stopping you from moving.

“Can we…do more?” He stutters.

“Is this not more?” you arch your eyebrows.

“I mean…I don’t think I’ll last very long…” He tucks his lips into his mouth, a nervous habit.

“ohhhh soonie..” you flirt, licking a long strip up the underside of his cock. “are you asking to fuck me?”

“don’t tease mee.” he whines, shuttering at the feeling of your tongue. You take him into your mouth, briefly sucking before pulling away with a loud pop.

“do you have condoms?”

“Yes” He leans over to his side table, pulling one out of the drawer.

“Oh, so you were planning this then, huh?” you tease, standing to grab it out of his hand.

He’s blushing wildly as he admits “I was hopeful.”

You giggle as you rip open the packaging and roll it onto his length easily, especially given how hard he already is from a few touches.

You straighten up to pull your underwear all the way off, including the bra before you lean over him again, grinding against his thigh this time. His hands instinctively grab your breasts, and you smile at the attraction to them.

“Are you positive you’re ready?” You confirm, placing a hand on his cheek. “I want you to be one-hundred percent sure.”

“I was ready the second I kissed you the first time.”

“You were drunk then” you point out

“Drunk and horny” he laughs, earning a little scoff and eye roll from you. (even though you love his dirty humor).

His hands trail down from your boobs to your waist so he can flip you again, his body so large and muscular over your petite one. He helps you lay further back on the bed, actually laying on the pillows stacked against his headboard.

“this is the part you might have to walk me through.” He admits. “I’ve done some…research…but I don’t want to hurt you.”

“research?” you question, grabbing his hand and bringing it towards your cunt. “two fingers” you instruct and he follows, tucking in all but his first two digits.

“It’s embarrassing, don’t ask”

“Oh i’m asking” you smile, motioning for him to stick his fingers inside. He does as he’s instructed and you sigh at the warmth. “now scissor them like this”, you motion with your own hand.

“I might have.. asked around. Watched some porn.” He looks away, pretending to be focused on what his hands are doing, stretching you out but also curling into you every few seconds, like he’s learned has you coming undone.

“did you see some things you want to try?” you ask through a sigh, honestly hoping his first experience is less scary than your own was.

“Maybe..”

He must get the hint that he’s supposed to be stretching you out because he adds a third finger, surprising you and earning a moan.

“shit” you grunt, “quick learner.”

He grins as he scissors all three fingers apart.

“try them. try them all i’m ready just please give me your cock” you beg, feeling that needy feeling build up again.

“So needy” he teases, pulling his hands out and wiping them on his thigh.

“You say that now” you grab for his dick, helping him line it up with your hole. “Just you wait, babe.”

He starts pushing in, slowly, and you wrap your legs around him, pulling him towards you faster.

“I’m so, so hot, soonie.” you explain, “go faster.”

“fuck” he groans, body shaking at what it feels like to be fully inserted inside of you. He pulls back, dragging it out slowly before pushing all the way in again with a hard thrust. “damn it.” he realizes, “this isn’t going to last very long at all” he chokes out.

“told you” you tease, grabbing a hand in his and resting it, palm up next to your head. He links your fingers together and pushes down, holding your hand tightly while pinning you into the mattress. Your other hand holds tightly on his shoulder as you whine through his quickening pace.

He’s in heaven. Soonyoung could live like this forever, seeing your little body underneath him, tits bouncing in time with his thrusts, face contorting in pleasure. Your beautiful, beautiful face that he’s been dreaming about all week long. Your heavenly voice, making sounds that he’s convinced are just for him. He loves how verbal you are, never able to shut your mouth between the “shit” and “fuck” and “yes” that keep spilling out like a broken record player of nonsense.

…not that he’s faring much better - especially when your pussy is so tightly clenching every time he’s moving backwards- almost like your body is holding onto his, begging him not to leave.

“need to slow down” he grunts, “or else I’m gonna cum.”

“no, no go faster” you whine, clawing at his back

“I thought you said I could try some things.” he flirts, pulling all the way out for a moment.

you suck in a deep breath of frustration at the loss and lean up on your elbows. He smiles at how cute you look, eyebrows furrowed, lips puckered and face flushed.

“if it involves your cock back inside me right now you can do anything and everything to me.”

“not yet” he scolds “I need to cool down and I want to try this.” he grabs your thighs and pushes them apart with quite a bit of force before spitting.

SPITTING.

KWON SOONYOUNG SPIT ON YOUR FUCKING PUSSY and your head immediately went swimming into another dimension because you’ve never been so turned on or so needy for a man in your entire life. You’re not even sure what the timeline looks like from then on. In some form of seconds or moments his head ends up right where he thinks it belongs, tongue licking in between your folds and sucking on your clit.

You thrust your hips up into his face, practically riding his nose, giving him some room to place his hands underneath you, grabbing at your ass. Your hands are pushing his head into you, all sense of respect or kindness for his ability to breathe out the window.

You’re sure your clit might end up bruised from how hard you’re pressing into him, but you could not care any less as you rub and grind and push into his juicy lips. he brings one hand away from your ass to push two fingers in again, curling in time with the sucking until you’re absolutely positively gone. You continue to babble versions of his name “soonie” and “soonyoung” and even “hoshi” blurring past your lips at the speed of light, mixed in with some “close” and “please.”

He’s a fucking munch, continuing on until you’re coming into his mouth, but not even stopping then. He rides you throughout your orgasm and even into the territory of overstimulation.

“too much baby” you whine, wiggling away from him, but he doesn’t budge.

He’s enjoying every second of his time in between your legs, and he’s 99% sure that he read somewhere you can make a girl cum twice in a row if you get them through that moment of sensitivity. “soonie i’m so sensitive” you whine, but he doesn’t let up, in fact quickening his pace, curling into your spongy walls and sliding his other hand up the arch of your back, rubbing around to the front and toying with your nipple.

He feels the switch happen, when your body relaxes into his for a moment before tensing up again, this time in the direction of his body instead of pulling away. He chooses this moment to pull himself away, kneeling above you and grabbing both legs. He throws them over his shoulders and pounds into you again, shoving his dick fully inside within seconds.

You gasp at the sudden fullness, and choke out a sob. “so full, god”

You rest a hand on your stomach, feeling his bulge pushing upwards and groaning at how deep inside of you he is.

“fuck baby, please tell me you’re close, please.” Soonyoung whines, movements completely irregular and sharp. His balls are big and full and his entire back is full of electrifying shocks. He knows he’s about to burst and really hopes he’s not one of those virgins who cums without his girl.

Actually…he wishes he was one of those guys who could keep his thoughts to himself because he definitely just shared THAT thought out loud.

“Your girl, huh? You focus on, arms above your head to rest on the shaking headboard.

“fuck” he groans, getting closer and closer. “Yeah. My girl. My girl who I want to have a life changing orgasm like right this fucking second.” he begs.

He can’t rub your clit because he’s holding your legs on his shoulders, so you move your own hand downwards, rubbing quick, tight back and forth lines at the perfect moment. You clench through the burst of pleasure right as he finishes with a yell. You might have yelled too but it also could have been silent or all in your head. For the third time this evening, you have absolutely no clue what is going on because you’re basically floating in a universe of stars, no earth or consciousness to be seen.

You’re only brought back to reality when Soonyoung puts your legs back down and pulls out of you. he ties off the condom and throws it into his bedside trash before slumping right on top of you, limbs weak and heavy like a weighted blanket.

You feel comfort. You love his weight on top of you. It’s blissful and natural.

In the afterglow you realize that he is everything you’ve been waiting for, everything you’ve never had both in a romantic partner and in a sexual partner. He’s very communicative and he’s hot. He’s sweet and family centric, while funny. He’s a lightweight, but so are you, so you can have a party of two any time you want. He’s loud, but so are you. He’s a giver, prioritizing your own pleasure over his, even during his first time. His dancer hips certainly know what they’re doing…

you’re brought out of your thoughts when he speaks up. “Thank you.” It’s soft, and he gives you a kiss on top of your head.

“I came three times, I should be thanking you!” you giggle, wrapping him up into a hug.

“No I mean thank you for giving me a really good first experience with intimacy.” he pulls back far enough to look you into the eyes. “and I don’t want to scare you off but I really do like you.”

“I like you too.” you peck his lips. “a lot.”

You both stare into each others eyes for a while, blushing like idiots until you finally start to feel sticky and gross.

“can we shower?”

“please” he says, helping you stand up on wobbly legs. He starts warming up the water in the en suite bathroom while you strip the sheets, and you meet him just in time for the water to reach a steamy temperature. You wash each other off, rubbing suds up and down your shoulders and backs, stealing little kisses here and there. You’re too tired for another round but you promise him some more “practice” in the morning which he grins ear to ear hearing.

After drying off, you decide that there’s still time to build your fort. You’re not energetic enough for a big fancy one, but you do shuffle back into his living room (now wearing a T-Shirt of his and your sweats - sans the ruined undies). to put some mats down on the floor. You prop up some bar stools across from the couch and drape some extra sheets over it to create a cozy little space. you fill it with every pillow in his home, and like ten blankets, ruling it perfectly cozy for a little sleepover.

He grabs the soju you brought and you sip together while watching a movie on his laptop, cuddling and stealing kisses between scenes. It feels domestic and cute, and you hope that you get to do this many more times.

He definitely feels the same.

——————————————————— <3

#seventeen #svt #svt fluff #svt x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #hoshi #hoshi smut #hoshi seventeen #hoshi x reader #hoshi x you #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung smut #loss of virginity

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bcmbiquinn · 1 month ago

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THE UNSEEN TENANT

Summary: After moving into a new flat, Joseph begins experiencing strange and unsettling noises at night, including stomping, dragging sounds, and eerie knocks. Although he initially dismisses them as his imagination, the disturbances intensify.

w/c: 656

a/n: I know it’s not Halloween but i cannot wait until it comes around again, I love spooky stories and everything paranormal and this one came to me as an epiphany and I wanted to share it, hope you like it and I’m sorry Joe, hope your flat is not haunted!

Content warning?: if you’re easily scared dni, ghost, paranormal noises, scratching.

It had been a week since Joseph moved into his new flat. After an incredible year, he decided to treat himself to a larger place. Everything about the move felt perfect, the neighbourhood was quiet and peaceful, the view was fantastic, and the flat itself seemed ideal.

During that first week, he managed to unpack as much as possible, though his busy schedule, meetings, script readings, and more, often left him too exhausted to finish. Most nights, he would collapse into bed and fall into a deep sleep. Occasionally, he would wake in the middle of the night after hearing a strange noise, but his fatigue always pulled him straight back into slumber.

After a month, Joseph had settled in more comfortably. The flat was fully unpacked and decorated to his taste, and he was genuinely pleased with how it all came together. One particular evening, after enjoying dinner and a film, he took a shower before heading to bed. Wrapping himself in his duvet, he fell asleep within minutes.

Sometime after midnight, a loud thud on the roof startled him awake. Disoriented, he sat up, unsure if the noise had been real or just part of a dream. When the flat fell silent again, he eventually drifted back to sleep.

A week later, it happened again. This time, the noise was much clearer, a heavy stomp on the roof followed by the unmistakable sound of something being dragged. His heart raced as his imagination spiralled. Could someone be trying to break in? He slipped on his shoes and grabbed the bedside lamp, moving cautiously through the flat. But there was no one there, and the quiet that followed was almost deafening.

For days, the disturbances continued. Whether at midnight or 3 a.m., the same loud noises returned, stomping, dragging, and the unnerving sound of what could only be long nails scraping across the rooftop. Joseph couldn’t shake the growing sense of dread. No one else in the building seemed to hear it, and he started to question his own sanity. Was it all in his head? Was the stress of work finally catching up to him?

One night, after his usual routine, Joseph convinced himself it was over. Days had passed without incident, and he reasoned that perhaps his imagination had been playing tricks on him. He drifted to sleep feeling more at ease.

But at 3 a.m., the stomping returned, louder than ever. He jolted upright, heart pounding, as the scraping noises resumed. And then something new happened: a deafening knock at his bedroom door, as if someone had hurled a brick at it.

His hands shook as he stood, adrenaline coursing through him. “Who’s there?” he called, his voice trembling. “I’m calling the police!”

There was no reply, only silence. Driven by equal parts fear and curiosity, he grabbed his phone and cautiously opened the door. The flat seemed empty. He moved slowly into the dining room and froze.

Sitting at the table was a little girl in an old-fashioned dress, her legs swinging as she stared straight ahead. Joseph’s breath caught in his throat. His mind raced. Why was there a child in his flat? And why did she look like she’d stepped out of the early 1900s?

Time seemed to stand still. Every instinct told him not to move, not to make a sound, because he could feel it, she was going to turn and look at him. And he didn’t want to see her face.

Summoning strength from somewhere deep within, he turned and bolted back to his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He dived under the duvet, trembling like a child, though no one was there to protect him this time.

He didn’t know when he finally fell asleep, but when the morning light filtered through the curtains, he knew one thing for certain: he had to get out of that flat.

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #Joseph Quinn one shot #chocolate button eyes #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year ago

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I haven't seen it yet but full hc for the m6 with an MC on the ADHD spectrum

The Arcana HCs: M6 with an MC who has ADHD

~ @themushroomgoesyeet hope you like these! I'm writing half from personal experience, half from what I've read and heard. Please let me know if there's anything that need correcting! ~

Julian

ADHD is a less familiar subject for him, if only because his areas of specialty so far have been contagious diseases and battle wounds

He's also not really one to judge you for difficulty keeping a sleep schedule, self-medicating with caffeine, or spending days on end obsessively learning everything you can about a specific subject

What's abundantly clear to him, though, is that you do not deserve to live with the guilt that comes from your own brain hijacking every commitment and interest that it doesn't prioritize

He knows what it's like to feel guilty for something that wasn't your fault, and he doesn't like seeing you live with it

The way he sees it, he's even more to blame for his shortcomings than you are, because you're actively working against your own brain and he's just ... sad (you'll have to tell him that this is not true)

This is going to become one of those shared challenges you tackle together as a couple

He'll write down all the bad effects of too much caffeine to motivate him to reduce your combined intake

You remind him to go to bed with you at a decent hour and call it "poetry time" instead of "bedtime" to trick both of your brains into not thinking of it as the end of the day

Asra

They love you. They love you so much. They never, ever want to get in the way of your preferences and vision

He enables you maaaybe a little more than he should

Staying up late is a great idea! Spending the entire day on your current fixation with no break to go outside or talk to people? Hey, don't let them ruin your fun ~

Thankfully, he cares about you far too much to leave you to engage in anything genuinely self destructive

Once the amount of caffeine you've consumed goes from "inadvisable" to "concerning," once your sleep schedule goes from "not ideal" to "dysfunctional", they'll step in in the gentlest way

Another cup of coffee? Let him get you some soothing tea. Another all-nighter? Snuggle him first, let him help you meditate a bit and see if you don't get drowsy

Nobody can combat executive dysfunction like this magician

All it takes is them feeling the slowly building dread through your bond, and they're lovingly poofing you off of the couch/floor/counter and into a very ticklish hug

His lifestyle is heavily ADHD coded as it is. He remains completely unfazed by the roller coaster that your brain can be

Nadia

To her, you are the best possible version of her opposite

She has a hard time changing between trains of thought. You reboot yours every time you walk through a door!

She sometimes forgets to slow down and appreciate the small things in favor of the bigger picture. You, on the other hand, are constantly pausing to notice them

And don't get her started on how much she admires your capacity to learn so much specialized knowledge in such a short period of time. It's truly astonishing and she adores it

However, she can tell that leaving it unchecked and untreated will make it difficult for you to function in the Palace's normal setup, much less follow regular routines

Quick to find a specialist in your condition and set up a few sessions with them, coming up with ways to work with your diagnoses and exploring medication options that you like

Insanely good at helping you keep your mind on track and regulate your attention and focus levels, even when it means pulling you away from a task that's about to eat up half your day

Likes to idly study the chaotic way you manage your personal spaces and try to figure out what the method to the madness is

Muriel

What, you think he's not used to living with a chaotic being that'll start three projects in a row before randomly walking out and not reappearing for several hours? Please.

Truthfully, there are some small things that annoy him. He likes predictability, and your base state of functioning is taking the next random tangent. That's not easy to not worry about

However, he knows that living with him takes plenty of patience as well. As long as you two can be patient with each other's quirks, and respectful when you lovingly intervene, that's what matters

He still loves hearing you ramble

He likes watching your eyes light up, listening to the excited lilt of your voice as you infodump all the new specialized knowledge you've gobbled up

That aside, he does love learning. Each of your new fixations is a new field of education for him by proxy

He's also someone who thrives on habit and routine and isn't afraid to put his foot down when your wellbeing is involved

He will scoop you up in his arms and lovingly carry you to bed when the bags under your eyes get too prominent and you start to nod off mid-sentence

Portia

Portia looks at you like you hung the moon. Portia thinks that every magical thing you do is mind-blowingly amazing. Portia assumes that all of your little quirks and non-habits are just you being you

Hey, if finding one specific food and eating it and only it for days on end is something you want to do, cool! Maybe it's secretly satisfying some magician's craving!

You're going to think about one thing and one thing only and learn everything there is to know about that thing? That's some badass scholarly behavior right there.

Well - except for the part where you forget something exists as soon as it's not in your hand anymore, or where time really does seem like a social construct, or where you somehow get physically and mentally stuck in one spot without being able to move

That looks ... miserable

Nobody can manage chaos like she can. She'll help you snap out of it, she'll remind you to eat and sleep and take your meds, she'll regularly ask when last you went outside or took a bath

And when you mess up - when you miss an event, or fall behind schedule, or leave things to pile up until they're too much - she'll be right next to you with an encouraging smile and plenty of grace

Lucio

This works either really well or really poorly, depending on the day, how he's doing, how you're doing, what you're both supposed to be doing, what the weather's like ...

It's unpredictable, but that's the fun of it!

Much of the time, your strong points support each other. There are few feelings Lucio hates more than boredom, but with a brain like yours around, there's always something new to try or think about

Few things cause the kind of bone-deep discouragement and guilt that constantly missing things does, but nobody values the importance of trying again like he does

On the other hand, sometimes you accidentally enable each other

Lucio's still learning the self-regulation involved with choosing to do something unpleasant and important over doing something enjoyable and completely useless

And if your brain decides that said pleasant thing is the only thing it's going to function for, well, not getting sidetracked is almost impossible. Good luck to you both

Thankfully, you both have a lifestyle that allows for unusual schedules and working styles. As long as you have each other to keep trying growing, you'll never get stuck for long

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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topazadine · 4 months ago

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Writing Advice: Spicy Mundanity

In writing, it is essential to provide just enough information to build a picture in a reader's mind, but not to bore them. Let's look at one specific area where some writers fall short: providing too much mechanical description.

Here, we'll look at three different examples of how you can set the same scene, then dissect why the fixed passages are better.

Adam the First silenced his alarm clock, got up out of bed, and walked to the door. He opened the door and walked down the hallway to the bathroom. He undressed and then reached out to turn the handle of the shower. The shower started, and he pulled the curtain aside. Then he realized he needed to pee, so he lifted the toilet seat and urinated. Then he got in the shower. Then he picked up a bar of soap.

Unless you are writing this for extraterrestrials, most people are going to know what it's like to get out of bed and go to the bathroom to turn on the shower, then realize your bladder is bursting and have to pee first.

This sounds so mechanical, almost robotic; it tells us nothing about how these actions made him feel.

Was he late? Was this done in a rush? Is this his day off so he's going slow, really luxuriating in the feeling?

So, let's fix this in two different ways and try them on for size.

Adam the Second rolled out of bed with a resounding smack as his alarm truncated his dream about his ex. Groaning, he swiped the screaming clock off the nightstand, shattering the screen into plasticine trash. Whatever. A problem for later. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled into the bathroom and yanked the shower on, then felt the familiar tingle in his bladder. First things first, he supposed. The shower was fast and unsatisfying, barely enough time to lather his hair. If he was late for his job at Widget Technologies one more time, he'd be toast. And homeless too.

This version tells us a lot more about Adam: he's not a morning person, he's got a bit of an attitude, and he's chronically late for work, to the point where he might lose his job. Oh, and he's still got the hots for his ex. We didn't need to linger on every single part of his morning routine; we swapped out some more interesting actions for the pedestrian "opening the door and turning on the shower" etc.

Now let's try something different that takes Adam in a whole other direction entirely.

Adam the Third most felt his age in the morning. The crawl to the alarm clock felt agonizing; his rusty joints creaked while he reached for the tiny button at the center that would silence the buzzing bells. It'd be easier to relocate the alarm clock to his side of the bed, but that seemed too final. Besides, this routine reminded him, morning after morning, that his wife wasn't here. Just in case he forgot. Putting his medication in the bathroom had also been a trick recommended by his therapist: forcing him to attend to his hygiene rather than lying in bed all day. He groaned as he massaged his back and began the slow journey toward his diuretics, then the interminable wait until his bladder remembered its purpose. Hopefully his daughter had brought more shampoo as she promised to, though he had his doubts.

Here we have an entirely different Adam: a man missing his wife, suffering from multiple ailments (including a bit of depression). It appears he might be dealing with early-onset dementia as well. We can also assume that he lives alone but relies on his daughter to bring him things. It seems she might be a bit flakey.

Even the old-school alarm clock tells us that we are not dealing with a youthful character, but someone stuck in an old time, trying to reorient his routine to a new reality.

All these passages deal with the exact same actions: getting out of bed, going to the bathroom, and taking a shower. However, the last two provide us with far more character details while removing extraneous actions that the reader can assume.

So, let's look at some golden rules of how to turn boring, mechanical passages into something more vibrant and character-driven.

Assume your reader is intelligent

You might be wondering what this has to do with anything, but let me explain.

Writers often feel that they need to spell everything out for their reader because everyone but them is a total moron and can't determine the sequence of everyday actions.

Your readers are not dumb. It is not just boring to write like Adam the First - it's also insulting.

Please give your readers credit. Expect them to understand what you are trying to say when you discuss mundane activities.

When you write with the assumption that your readers are intelligent people, you are more willing to gloss over stupid details they don't need, and you can get to the meat of the action faster.

Remove implied action

If someone was sitting on the bed and then they are walking toward the dresser, we can assume that they got up. We only need to say they got up if there is a particular way they did so which could be assumed as important.

Adam 2 literally rolled out of bed onto the floor and then "stumbled" toward the bathroom. We can imagine a very inelegant rising but don't actually have to show that.

Adam 3 massaged his back and then "began the slow journey." We can assume that he got up very carefully, maybe groaning a bit as he did so, but we don't need to explain that in excruciating detail; it's implied.

We can also assume the peeing part in both passages. Adam 2 thought "first things first" about his bladder, and then was in the shower. We get the point.

Adam 3 was talking about how he's going to be straining on the toilet for a while until his diuretics kick in, and then about how he hopes his daughter brought shampoo, so we can tell that he's going to pee and then shower.

Use active verbs

Yes, sometimes someone just opens a door and there's nothing special about it. Why are you showing that to us? We don't get much from it.

Just have them reach the door and then pass through it without explaining. No one will assume they are teleporting.

Unless you're writing something that does have teleportation, but then I'd imagine you would take more time to explain why they'd teleport through a door, such as it being locked with a key they don't have.

Specific verbs are far more interesting - and more insightful - than simple, mechanical ones. Consider all the possible ways to open a door here:

Griselda flung the door open, screaming like a wildcat. "Give me my goddamn money!"

Jiggling the handle, Imogene heard dead silence on the other side. With shaking fingers, she inched the door open, closing her eyes for fear of what she would see.

A sprinting Paul slammed into the door, groaned, then fumbled for the handle before tripping inside.

Vera clutched the polished pewter handle, hands slick with nervous sweat, and twisted it in a hard but controlled motion. She threw her shoulders back to appear more confident and slid past the doorplate, which probably cost more than her whole house.

In the last two examples, there's something important about the way they held the door handle, so we show that. In the first two examples, we don't really need to see how they gripped the handle, so we don't show it.

Add interiority

The passages about Adam 2 and Adam 3 are more interesting because we are getting character development through these passages. Even though each one is a very boring scene of someone going about their morning routine, they feel like different people, because they are.

Adam 1 could be literally anyone on the planet named Adam, but Adam 2 and Adam 3 are clearly a specific person because they feel differently about the exact same routine, and they do it a little differently too.

Adam 2 comes out of the gate snarling; he's in a bad mood and worrying about his job. Adam 3 is grief-stricken; every single thing reminds him of his dead wife, even the alarm clock.

I write primarily in third person limited POV, which gives a lot of room for character development, but you can do these same things in first person and third person omniscient if you so choose.

To develop interiority, think about how your character feels and their overall life circumstances. Someone about to get married to the love of their life will spring out of bed, excitedly ticking through all the things they need to do before their wedding; we don't even need to show the actions because they're telling us what they will do.

Someone about to get married to a suitor they hate is going to slump out of bed, dreading every movement and dragging it out as long as possible. We will hear the resentment as their alarm clock goes off and their grumbled complaints about the shower being cold. This tells us a lot about their mood and their expectations for their day.

If you enjoyed this article, maybe you'll consider purchasing my own lovely book, 9 Years Yearning! This 33k novella examines the lives of two young men studying the art of war - but they find themselves studying something else entirely, too.

Namely, each other. Ooh la la!

If you do purchase my book, please be sure to leave a review!

Reviews are critical for success on Amazon so I can sell more books! With your help, I'll be able to afford Ear Reversal Surgery for my dog, who is currently suffering from a tragic case of Inside Out Ears.

Look at him! He can hear better that way, but is it ethical?

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missmarveledsblog · 4 months ago

Text

Not just a flower child huh ? (Logan howlett x reader ) part 8

summary : when it all went right to oh so bad and now it was a race against the clock for them all as a risk taker visits the school .

warning : fluffy and angsty ball of fun that seems to be the norm for this series . this part will shift to past and present , grammatical errors and spelling mistakes

previous part

Once again she was facing the metal bars , ones she was all to accustomed to only the device around her neck stop her fighting back , she should of known it was a trap , seeing them there that day , she should of known it was just another ploy to get her back to where she started. The location was new , it was different the mold and damp hadn’t set in yet but all she was staring at was the metal bars not the fact they all stood in the room , watching her like she was an exhibit at the zoo and yet all she could think of how just a week ago she was finally letting it go . finally letting herself into the feeling she thought she wasn’t suppose to have and now it was all gone , he was gone .

One week ago :

Just as routine she crept out of her room , her heart slowly down and sweat not so profuse but yet her hands still shook when she open the door , her steps shill shaky as she walked down the hall . what she didn’t expect was a sudden ball of blue fur and steel at her side making her tired eyes focus .

“ why are you hugging me” she murmured feeling the sneeze building at the feeling of hanks fur tickling her nose then she smelled it making her eyes roll at the sudden affection . “ let me go you stink of alcohol “ she pushed them away .

“ you are my new friend and you needed some affection” hank grumbled .

“ you are my baby sister and i wanted to hug you” piotr slurred out .

“ ok ok thank you big softies go to bed i will hug you when you don’t stink “ she rolled her eyes .

She walked further to see scott carrying a nearly asleep jean and well storm almost asleep on the stairs .

“ what is it xmen go wild tonight ?” she asked walking into the kitchen seeing logan pouring himself a drink .

“ couple of the kids got into college so they celebrated , we did call you but you mumbled something about vines and asses if we woke you up” he chuckled .

“ rings a bell” she hummed remembering a slightly a startled summer rushing out her room .

She already looked to see the tea she drank normally ready as his own amber liquid cup filled heading to the back door the two walked out she was already a head taking the cup from his head before she spit the liquid to her hand letting the fire hit the wood .

“ cool trick “

“ a good friend of mine told me i’m like a bag of them “ she winked .

“ smart friend seems to know his stuff huh “ this was a new grin almost flirty the way his eyes danced along her features .

“ he’s ok i guess” she shrugged playful.

“ just alright?” he nudged her arm .

“ maybe a little more than alright he is one of my favorite people but don’t tell him might go to his head”

“ can’t have that can we well i think this alright guy thinks your alright or a little alright too “ he smiled only feel her hand in his the vast difference in size and yet it fit perfectly like a puzzle piece .

“ thanks you for making me feel like a person “ she almost whispered as she stared up at the sky watching the beauty of the stars above while logan watched the beauty of the woman at his side . her eyes widened as she saw it the white fleck falling down floating out of the sky something she barely even remembered at first then suddenly it was like a flash she was on her feet like a child like wonder and curiosity on her face as it fell to the palm of her hand melted away .

“ i remember this “ she smiled softly .

“ snow? “ he filled in the blank a fond smile on his face.

“ snow… it been along time since i seen it “ she giggled almost taking off to get more of it , her laughs and giggles almost echoed throughout the grounds of the school and it came down a bit heavier yet she was spinning in circle watching it fall to the ground. The way it was slowly like a blanket across the grass she was almost in awe of it not almost it was a beautiful sight one he wanted to burn in his memory for rest of his life . he was a goner before and completely gone now watching how she almost danced around with the snow, something Piotr said earlier it was her favorite thing as child , everyone would be so miserable but y/n would dance and play with the snow no matter how cold it go she found a way to be her . he felt a presence watching actually a few when he turned to see the man himself and the professor standing also smiling at the sight before them .

“ i’m glad i didn’t miss this “ was all her brother said .

“ guess you’ll take the car tomorrow… use the key please” professor chuckled handing logan a coat for her and yet neither of them wanted to disrupt the show , the moment of her getting to be her after so long of captivity .

She awoke to the sounds of laughter and happiness almost buzzing from the outside , the sound of children being children a smile laced on her face before her eyes even open .

only for a knock to send her flying out of the bed and hitting the floor instantly while she let out a little “ come in “ . jean stood head tilted looking down at the floor while bub stretched out on the bed a meow to let them now he was awake and another to let them know he was well awake and attention on him .

“ i was told to bring you a coat and scarf “ jean smiled placing them on the desk and heading straight for the fluff ball now demanding attention . “ i’ll be happy to watch bub for the day “ she added walking out before y/n could even register what was going on .

“ she stole my kitty” her head tilted as she groaned getting off the ground ready to well get ready for her day knowing she wanted to see more of central park which now would be covered in snow with the man that made her heart well do weird things , quickly dressing as she grabbed the scarf and coat on for rogue to pull her back into the room .

“ nah out of those” she mused heading to the closet instantly pulling out a whole new outfit . consisted of a black turtle neck dress , tights and boots .

“ you can thank me later “ was all the woman said sitting on the bed looking through the books that sat on the desk . her eyes almost popping out of her head when y/n reemerged dressed once more, “ shit you look amazing “ she smiled coming behind the woman pulling her hair out of the ponytail letting it fall naturally down then handing her the coat and scarf .

“ you all dress me like a doll” y/n chuckled remembering storm and jean when she first came .

“ well your as beautiful as one now come one breakfast time” she giggled as two heading down the hall . the moment she walked into the dinning room the noise of metal hitting the table as she looked to see all eyes on her .

“ wow look at you” bobby smiled as rogue held his hand .

“ it’s bad” she asked looking down at her clothes .

“ you look hot “ storm winked .

“ can’t believe she going on date with logan “ another she’d know as “ pyro “ although he didn’t make fire like she did it was confusing.

“ come on dear eat” professor smiled . “ you look radiant” he added as her cheeks reddened only feel. When she looked up like it was second nature her eyes already locking with his until she say her brother standing in the way hand on his hips .

“ what are you intentions with my little sister?” he asked sternly as she jumped from her spot.

“ maybe we eat at the park” she laughed nervously as she pulled him by the hand only for her brother to move yet he hit the floor instead.

“ man she makes those things strong” scott chuckled seeing the vines wrapped around Piotr ankles .

She could barely look at the man her eyes locked out the window watching the passing scene just as beautiful under the white blanket , even the city was beautiful and yet all her mind could conjure and think of was a date. “ is it a date.. Why would it be a date” she thought not realizing her face was showing what her mind didn’t .

“ what’s going on in that pretty head of yours” he chuckled as her head shot in his direction and fact he was holding her hand.

“ DATE “ She almost yelled . “ is this date?” she asked cursing herself for the well nervous squeak

“ about time you realized” he chuckled squeezing her hand softly but not one separating them even when he was changing his gears he still found away around of it . “ that a problem? “ he asked already knowing it wasn’t from the way he could sense her body language almost relax in a way but he could tell she was nervous hell he was nervous but hey wasn’t every new start like that.

“ ok date … was the last time a date too” she asked softly more curious .

“ sweetheart every night was a date “ he smiled .

“ we have good dates then “ she smiled more nerves not so prominent as they drove through the city watching the now covered buildings pass , worker salting the roads and clearing the side walk .

They pulled up to different place she could see the park not too far away as she went to get the door only for him to stop her before getting out of the car and opening it for her , she couldn’t help the little girlish giggle that spilled from her lips . once again hand in hand as they walked into the almost diner themed place heading straight for the booth , the waiter although a little too friendly toward her as he handed the menu over til he caught the glare of the man with her. Her eyes widened as she took in all the food.

“ get whatever you want sweetheart the milkshakes are nice or so i’m told” he smirked

“ rogue?” she asked

“ scott actually don’t let him know” he chuckled . “ why rogue?”.

“ she made me change in to this “ she looked down . “ its comfortable i like it “ .

“ you look beautiful but then again you always do and if you read my mind you would of known that along time ago “ he winked making her eyes widen .

“ not that i would do such a thing but what else would i find if i did” she asked softly almost shy to even utter the words, biting her lower lip almost to afraid to utter another word .

“ that every time you do that make me want to do something else but i’m doing a new thing of being a gentlemen and waiting for the right time “ he whispered just in time for waiter come back. “ yeah i’d like pancakes , extra bacon and a black coffee thank … sweetheart?” he smirked as her mouth fell open to his previous words .

“ same .. milkshake chocolate” she barely even spared the waiter a look to his disappointment . “ what the thing ?” she asked almost leaning over.

“ just have to wait for right moment to find out “ .

Present :

How she could go back just a few days , stop it all from unfolding now how she wasn’t now looking into the eyes of smug bastard. The cat who got the cream look on his face god she wished so much to wipe it off his face . the monster she knew like the back of her hand , a sneaky weasel of a man if she could even call him a man when he got others to do her dirty work .

“ don’t take it personal” was all she heard her father call out as they walked out bag of cash in hand once more they sold her out .

“ i hope one day you die screaming in pain and you wonder why it is happening think of me the child you sold to the wolves twice “ she spat .

“ well if you stayed the last time it wouldn’t happen now would it” her mother cackled .

“ they will find me and get me out when they do no money will save you “ she gritted feeling the start of the shocks coursing through her body.

“ enough talking we have so much to do my little bunny” stryker snicker watched as she convulsed before slumping over in the chair she sat.

“ your not afraid of her power?” her father asked .

“ that collar makes sure its not a problem , now leave before i take my generosity back she is right you both are repulsive” he snickered watching as they rushed out only to hear them yelling and cursing before the guns went off and the money brought in as they dragged her mother in .

“ this one is hiding something the other is dead” the guard spoke as they watched the wounds heal .

“ guess we got two test subject” stryker shrugged. “ collar her and tie her down sure they can catch up later.

He felt sick , angry no he was almost a blinding rage he was so close to getting her out and yet he was so far all in the same , he couldn’t protect her and now she was gone back to a place he’d promised she would never return to . logan was done , he was going to get her back no matter what it took , show them the animal they so thought he was .

“ we need to be smart and we need to think of this clearly”professor spoke up although it seem as the words were clearly targeted .

“ a week she’s in that hell hole a week , it like your doing nothing” he growled .

“ we all want her back we love her” jean shot back .

“ then why is she still gone” piotr scoffed.

“ because stryker is being smart we can’t locate her on cerebro but the one who can help is currently knocking at the door” charles nodded as they stood waiting watching as they heard them , walking down the hall .

“ professor this man said he needs to talk to you “ rogue stood at the door her bare hand ready incase it was need.

“ i need to speak to y/n but i fears its too late .. if you get my family safe i will help you get her back “ he felt so small as they all stared him down

“Why should we trust you , what’s from stopping me chopping parts off til you start talking” logan stormed across grabbing the man by the throat as one of is claw was mere inches from the artery .

“ because dr. thompson is why we save her in the first place , he risked everything to call me last time so let him go logan “ charles warned.

“ if you kill me it will be too late and he will end up killing her if the plan of his doesnt work” dr. thompson almost begged to let him help .

“ what’s he planning? “ storm asked just as jean gasped

“ he trying to make her like logan , he going infuse her with adamantium “ she felt the bile rise up in her throat .

“ that almost killed me” logan finally let him go was like his blood turned to ice and the air knocked out his lungs .

“ well then start talking “ scott stood hand on his visor .

part 9

taglist: @oscarissac2099 @ayamenimthiriel @mega-kittyglitter-1 @britttzy267

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didyoutrydynamite · 2 years ago

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Renegades: The Thin-Mint Job

Ring Ring!

Guard: *Walks up to the front gate of the business compound.* What do you want?

Jaune: *Wearing casual clothing and pulling a red wagon filled with girl scout cookies* Hi there! My little sister is with the Valiant Voyagers, and she would like to ask you a question.

Neo: *Shyly peaks from behind Jaune, with blonde hair and blue eyes matching her “brother”.*

Jaune: Come on Skye, just like we practiced.

Neo: *Steps out in a Girl Scout uniform, holding a poster board.* (Would you like to buy some Voyager Cookies Sir and/or Ma’am?)

Guard: Sorry, this business doesn’t accept door to door sales.

Jaune: Even if it’s for a good cause? You see, the Valiant Voyagers are raising funds for research in congenital heart disease!

Neo: *Flips poster board* (Raising Funds for the Happy Heart Foundation)

Guard: Listen, I’m all for charity, but the boss has a clear policy-

Jaune: Are you sure sir? This charity really means a lot to my sister, you see, *leans in and whispers* She was born with arrhythmia. She's constantly in and out of hospitals.

Neo: *Flips board* ( This donation will help my heart grow big and strong like yours one day.)

Guard: *Sweat drop* J-jeez, I’m sorry to hear that, but I really can’t-

Neo: *Pulls on Jaune’s sleeve with puppy dog eyes, and starts using sign language* (Hey, after we trick this sucker into buying these cookies, you want to go get some milkshakes after this?)

Jaune: *Kneels down to her with a heartfelt expression and starts signing back* I don’t think so, Skye, but don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll sell enough to get you that surgery. (I think I saw a Mister Milkshakes on the way here we can stop at.)

Guard; *Starts holding back sobs* L-Let me go ask the boss.

Neo: *Flips the board* (Tell him it’s $1,000 for 200 boxes.)

~O~O~O~O~O~

Jaune/Neo: *Sitting at Mister Milkshakes after giving the boss the whole same routine again, $1,500 richer.*

Jaune: 300 boxes for the whole building. *Chuckles* Killer touch with the puppy dog eyes, Neo.

Neo: Sipping her milkshake and conjures subtitles Excellent guilt trip with the congenital heart disease. You’ve learned well, you little crook. *Winks*

Jaune: I learn from the best. *Wink* Now all we have to do is wait for enough of the guards and staff to get knocked out by the laced cookies, have Cinder and Adam break in and steal that intel, then anonymously drop it off at the police station.

Neo: *Looks confused then hand signs* (Knocked out? Was I supposed to get roofies or something?)

Jaune: Or whatever other kind of tranquilizers… Wait, what did you think to get for the cookies?

Neo: *Awkwardly sips from her milkshake*

Jaune: NEO, WHAT DID WE PUT IN THOSE COOKIES?!?!

~O~O~O~O~O~

Cinder/Adam/Jaune/Neo: *All in Adam’s truck on the way to the police station as several ambulances drive by on the way to the office compound they were just heisting, sitting in awkward silence.*

Cinder: *Staring out the passenger window looking absolutely embarrassed *

Adam: *Driving, looking unbelievably pissed*

Neo: *Looking perturbed because everyone was on her ass again*

Jaune: … Was it bad?

Adam: FUCKING LAXATIVES!?

Cinder: It was horrible… I’ve never seen anything like it before.

Adam: We tell you to get pills to take out the staff and you decide laxatives are the best thing for the job?! ARE YOU FIVE?!

Neo: *Hand signs some expletives towards Adam*

Jaune: I’m not repeating that.

Cinder: The restrooms were a disaster… The way they went at each other to get to the stalls was like rats on a sinking ship.

Adam: *Snarls* Do you know how good a bull’s smell is? They can smell up to six miles, Neo! I can still smell them from here!!

Neo: *Conjures subtitles on the dash* Well it still worked didn’t it?! You got the intel without anyone trying to stop you!

Cinder: Not a single one of them raised a hand to stop us, some of them even begged us to put them out of their misery. There probably wasn’t a single office plant that went unsoiled in that building.

Adam: GODDAMNIT I think it’s on my boot!! *Smacks steering wheel in rage*

Jaune: *Face in hands from guilt for suggesting cookies*

#renegade au #jaune arc #cinder fall #neo politan #adam taurus

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sunfl0w3rmoon · 4 days ago

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girl of your dreams | marlene x dorcas microfic | 627 words

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It was routine, at this point. Lock eyes across the room at a bar, pretend to ignore each other for an hour or two, leave at separate times… end up in bed, or on the floor, or against a wall together ten minutes later. They’d been doing this for months, it was second nature. But it was just sex. And, according to Dorcas, that’s all it ever would or could be.

Marlene knew, of course, how private Dorcas was. She was a cinder block building of secrets Marlene itched to get her fingers on. But Dorcas wouldn’t give. No matter how much Marlene shared of herself, or asked for in return, the only things Dorcas offered were tips and tricks to make her cum. And Marlene savored those tips, savored the sounds Dorcas made when Marlene put those tricks to use. But she wanted more. She wanted to know Dorcas inside and out, she wanted to romance her, not just fuck her. She wanted Dorcas to look at her the way Mary looked at Lily, or Remus looked at Sirius. She wanted to be the girl of Dorcas’s dreams.

And, the thing was, Marlene knew she could be. Knew she might be, if only Dorcas would let her. If only Dorcas would admit to herself that she liked Marlene, not just her body. They already had mindblowing sex once a week, and Marlene was fucking hilarious, if she did say so herself (and Dorcas had confirmed this fact every time she hid a chuckle). They would be so perfect together, and Marlene knew Dorcas could see that too. There was a reason she kept coming back for more, no matter how many times she said it was the last.

“You need to get over her, Marls,” said Mary on Friday night, as Marlene’s gaze tracked Dorcas from the other side of the bar. “She’s told you she can’t be in a relationship with you. It’s just going to ruin you to keep chasing her.”

Marlene snorted into her beer, then took a quick swig. She sighed as she lowered the glass back to the table. “Don’t you think I’ve tried, Mary? Every single fucking time she’s not here, I go home with somebody else, and it’s… underwhelming. Like, it’s still great sex, don’t get me wrong. But if it’s not sex with her, then what’s the point?”

Mary shook her head, exasperated. “Oh, you’re fucking down bad, aren’t you?”

“The downdest of the baddest, my friend,” Marlene agreed, raising her glass once more. Her eyes found Dorcas easily in the crowd. “How could I not be?”

They met at Marlene’s that night, with barely a ‘hello’ as Dorcas tore into her, hands a flurry as they roamed everywhere on Marlene’s body. She was up against the wall in a matter of seconds, Dorcas kicking the front door shut behind her, her lips hot against Marlene’s mouth, cheek, neck. And even as the butterflies in Marlene’s stomach roiled, a rightness settled into her bones. Because here, now, she had Dorcas under her hands, coming undone at her touch. And even the cinder block building herself couldn’t deny that they just worked. That everything about the two of them moved synchronously. They didn’t need to ask what the other wanted anymore, they could read the other’s body language like their mother tongue. And it was fucking magical.

Marlene came apart, back arching off her mattress, biting back three words that would ruin everything. But she said them with her fingers, with her tongue, as she returned the favor. And the mantra repeated in her head as they did it again, and again, and again. Every night, every time. Can’t you see? I could be the girl of your dreams.

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this work is from my Dylan - Marlene microfic collection. read more on ao3

#marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #microfic #marauders #dead gay wizards #dead gay witches #the marauders #dorlene #dorcas x marlene #sunfl0w3rmoon microfic #ao3

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doeeyyeed · 25 days ago

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quite desperation a short story

The mass of men live lives of quiet desperation. Carl Jung says we cannot change anything unless we accept it, but the trick is that acceptance doesn’t come easy. Regret, guilt, anxiety, depression—neurotic symptoms stacked like dirty dishes in the sink. They’re signals, blinking neon in the dark, whispering that the routine isn’t working. The plumbing is clogged, the walls are cracking, and we’re too busy pretending everything’s fine to call a contractor.

Suffering isn’t the enemy. It’s the renovation notice taped to the door. The uncomfortable splinter digging into the soft flesh of your heel. Suffering forces you to strip the wallpaper, rip up the carpet, and examine the foundation. It’s the grim contractor pointing out what’s rotted and needs replacing. It’s a therapist with a cigarette in one hand and a crowbar in the other. It tells you to get your house in order before the roof caves in.

But instead, we turn on Netflix. Crack open beers. Pop pills like Tic Tacs. We chase the dopamine dragon through bars, bedrooms, and back alleys. We anesthetize ourselves into oblivion and call it self-care. It’s all fun and games until the serotonin supply chain collapses and suddenly you’re Googling how much Advil it takes to stop caring.

Carl Jung warns, “We may think there is a safe road. But that would be the road of death.” Death is the slow drip of routine, the suffocating weight of settling for less. It’s the zombie shuffle through cubicles and traffic jams and Netflix queues. The antidote? Movement. Forward. Always. Maslow says self-actualization is the goal—becoming everything you’re capable of being. No excuses. No safety nets.

“If you plan on being anything less than you are capable of being,” Maslow says, “you will probably be unhappy all the days of your life.” And let’s face it—happiness isn’t the goal. Purpose is. Happiness is a side effect, like nausea on a pill bottle label. Purpose is the sharp edge that keeps you moving, even when it cuts.

Sow a thought and reap an action. Sow an act and reap a habit. Sow a habit and reap a character. Sow a character and reap a destiny. It’s all about planting seeds in the dirt and bleeding as they grow. The first step is picking the damn seeds. Finding the purpose. People get tripped up, think they need to find their passion first, but passion is a leech. It shows up after the work begins. Passion is the drunk friend who crashes on your couch after the hard labor is done.

Morita therapy says forget your feelings and do what needs doing. Let the actions change the emotions, not the other way around. The feelings are background noise—ignore them. Focus on the work. Build the habits. Stack the bricks. Create the architecture of your life one ugly, uneven wall at a time.

And if you feel lost, remember Steve Jobs’ advice: "Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life." Death strips away the bullshit. When the clock’s ticking, suddenly it’s easier to cut ties, to chase dreams, to burn bridges and build new ones. There’s nothing to lose because you’ve already lost it all.

The color’s coming back to my face. That man was stressing me out, but what can I say—I work better in rooms where no one knows my name. No backstory, no assumptions. Just a blank slate and endless possibilities. New faces, new places. It’s insanity to keep doing the same thing and expecting a different result.

Mauve. That’s the color that makes me feel in control. Mauve is the color of reinvention. The color of empty canvases and blank slates. It’s the color of starting over, of wiping everything clean and daring the world to make something of it.

I walk through the city, head high; Because here, in this new place, no one knows any different. I can be anyone. A model. A mogul. A genius. My self-concept is the loudest voice in the room, and in these moments, I believe it.

And then, there it was. The Virgin Mary. Staring back at me from a plate of refried beans in some hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant. It wasn’t even a good restaurant—sticky tables, lukewarm salsa, a jukebox coughing up the same three mariachi songs. But that smear of beans? Divine intervention. That was my omen. Proof that the universe had a sense of humor. Proof that I was chosen.

From that moment on, I’d tell myself I’m a supermodel. My legs? Mile-high skyscrapers. My thigh gap? Radiating potential, like a wormhole to another dimension. I’d walk through the city and imagine people looking at me, thinking, "Who is she?" And in these moments, I believed it. My self-concept became reality. Or maybe quantum physics helped. Observation changes reality, doesn’t it? Like Schrödinger’s cat, except I’m the cat, and I’m always alive when someone’s looking.

Albert Einstein would get it. My idol. My obsession. I’d give anything for an hour on a park bench with him, just to sit and talk. To ask him if humans are like birds. If he’s disgusted with humanity’s animalistic urges. Watching people like they’re birds. Analyzing their flight patterns. Wondering how they know when to migrate. Wondering if they ever get it wrong, if sometimes they just flap their wings and end up nowhere. Do we flap our wings against the wind because it’s instinct, or because we’re too stupid to do anything else?

Maybe that’s the secret—migration. Forward motion. Movement as survival. Change or die. Fix the foundation or let the roof collapse. Reinvent yourself until the world can’t tell if you’re a saint or a monster. Either way, they’ll remember your name.

I imagine him analyzing people the way he’d study atoms—watching their habits, their migrations. Breaking down instincts into equations and theories, breaking down their patterns and quirks into beautiful, elegant equation.

And maybe that’s why I fixate on self-concept. Because in the universe of quantum physics, observation changes reality. Particles shifting, aligning, vibrating into place just because someone dared to look at them. Maybe that’s what happens when I step into a new space and find it easier to remind myself that i can be anyone to these people so let me be someone that allows me to flourish. It’s quantum mechanics in action—belief collapsing probability into reality.

I swear, my legs grow taller with every step. A mile high, endless, thighs carved out by God or by science—or maybe by the Virgin Mary herself, who once appeared to me in a smear of refried beans at a Mexican restaurant. That’s when I knew. That was my omen. Proof that I was chosen, that the universe was tipping its hat and saying, "Go ahead. Be someone."

It’s the placebo effect wrapped in divine intervention. A cosmic wink. The universe reflecting back whatever I decide to project. And that’s the secret—migration. Forward motion. Movement as survival. Change or die. Fix the foundation or let the roof collapse. Reinvent yourself until the world can’t tell if you’re a saint or a monster. Either way, they’ll remember your name.

#short story #my writing #writers on tumblr #writing #writeblr #writing prompt #writers and poets #girlblogging

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naught-skull · 29 days ago

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Tongue Tied

Your alpha wouldn't really leave you tied up all day when you're about to go into heat, would she?

omegaverse, fem omega!reader x fem alpha!oc

bdsm, bondage, dom/sub, master/slave, heat, knotting, orgasm denial, overstimulation

wordcount: 2,447

I woke up from a really good nap wishing I was tied up and about to be fucked and this scene popped up fully formed in my head so here you go~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hear the front door shut and test the handcuffs tying your wrists to each bed post. This is a normal state of affairs, of course; Mistress likes to undress you and tie you down before she leaves for work, to make sure that you don't break the rules and pleasure yourself while she's gone. She used to use a chastity belt, but you learned how to loosen it enough to straddle a few pillows and rub your clit against the inside of it, allowing you to satisfy yourself throughout the day. So, now she ties you up completely. You used to get bored being confined in bed all day, but you learned how to entertain yourself, usually with thoughts of what Mistress will do to you when she gets home, and those thoughts ensure that you'll be dripping and ready to take her knot as soon as she does make it back. And, since she no longer has to remove your belt, that portion of your day can begin that much sooner, so your trick that led to this change in routine paid off in more ways then one.

That's most days, of course. This day is different. You felt a simmering under your skin last night, and when you woke up this morning it had built to a crackle. Slick had begun to pool in your underwear, and it had taken all of your willpower not to sit on your alpha's cock and take some pleasure for yourself before she had to leave for the day. Besides, you had wanted to see if she'd say anything. You were sure she could smell the preheat on you, and the rebellious part of you that had learned how to loosen your belt and necessitated your confinement to bed every day wanted to test the possibility of not being upfront with her. One of the rules was that you had to tell her any time you wanted her knot, so that she could know you still belonged to her completely even if she couldn't take care of you right then. She had responded by carrying on as normal, moving through her morning routine and yours before lying you back in bed and snapping the cuffs around your wrists. She'd kissed you as she always did and left for the day.

You don't quite know how to feel about either possibility: that she'd known and left you anyway, or hadn't paid enough attention to notice. Regardless, you have the day to get through as you are, and you're determined that you can do it. You can feel the need pulsing deep inside you, but it's on a level of days when you feel especially keyed up, uncomfortable but not unbearable. All you can hope is that this will be one of your heats that rolls in slowly.

The hours tick by and the need builds. The crackle of heat builds to a roar, aching and burning under your skin. Slick coats your thighs and the sheets under them, and more pumps out with the frequent clenches and pulses of your empty cunt. Sweat sticks your hair to your forehead, and you're sure it's in a state beyond that given your inability to lie still. You thrash and toss your head. You try to trap your needy moans within your throat or behind your teeth, but they escape more often than you'd like.

The need continues to build. You want to go back in time and yell at the you from this morning, the you who should have gotten on your knees and begged your mistress to stay home and pleasure you. It wasn't your place, sure, but she would have done it with minimal punishment for your forwardness. She's so good to you, and she understands that you can't control your body sometimes, especially when you're in heat. The momentary satisfaction of testing your boundaries, of hiding something from her, hadn't been worth this desperation.

The heat turns into a blaze. You try to contort your body to rub yourself against the sheets or your own leg or something, but you're not able to get a good angle. Even then, you can't stop your hips from compulsively bouncing and thrusting, simulating half of the mating dance even with your missing and critical partner. The sheets are soaked through with slick and sweat. You can no longer stop yourself from keening and moaning, which soon transitions into begging. Begging for your alpha to come home sooner than she usually does. Begging for your cuffs to snap so you can plunge your fingers into your dripping pussy. Begging for simple, sweet relief, please.

You almost don't hear it over the sound of your own desperation, but your ears have been trained to listen for the specific sound of the key in your front door, the specific way the latch clicks as it's opened. You respond with a wordless whine, your heels dig into the mattress as your legs fall open in anticipation.

Yet, despite your hopes that Mistress would come running as soon as she heard you, you hear her walk slowly around the foyer. Her keys clink as they're dropped in the dish next to the door. There's a soft thump as her bag is placed just inside the door to her home office, two more thumps as her shoes are lined up under the bench. The closet door creaks open and then shut, with enough time in between each for her to fit her coat on a hanger and hang it inside. This entirely normal routine seems pointedly slow given your desperate begging.

Finally, her footsteps move up the stairs, bringing her closer to you and your desperation. You can't stop yourself from whining again as she opens the door and moves into the room. The scent of heat permeates every corner of the room and you know your alpha isn't unaffected. You can see the line of her quickly tenting out the front of her slacks, your eyes tracking that bulge and the relief it promises like a starving dog eyeing a bone. Yet, she pauses, her eyes drinking in the sight of you.

She loosens her tie and walks toward you, "How has your day been, baby?" A perfectly normal question on any other day, but you can only answer with a soft moan and a pointed roll of your hips.

Her tie now hangs across her neck and she works on unbuttoning her shirt, "Oh?" her eyes sweep across the length of you where you lay, exposed and desperate, "Right, I think you might have forgotten to mention something this morning." You nod frantically in response. "Well, I don't think you'll be keeping secrets in the future, now will you? It's your job to tell me when you need something, baby."

The buttons are fully undone on her shirt, exposing her bra and the plane of her stomach. You eye the exposed skin hungrily, all too familiar with how it feels draped over you and pressing you against the mattress. Mistress pulls her tie from around her neck and gently slides it behind your head. She ties it in a tight knot and stuffs the excess material in your mouth. You moan and gnaw on the cloth. "Since you seem so interested in keeping things to yourself, I think you've lost speaking privileges for now." Mistress is right, of course, it's only fair that she punish you, and you're ready to take whatever she gives as long as she gets on with fucking you through your heat. But, much to your dismay, she turns away and disappears into the walk-in closet.

You scream around the cloth in your mouth and thrash against your cuffs. Your hips hump the air and your pussy lets out another pulse of slick. You're so ready, you've been ready, your mistress wouldn't really leave you like this, would she? All you need is one knot, then she can leave again. Just one so you can rest.

Thankfully, it doesn't take her long to reappear in the closet door, fully divested of her work clothes. Her cock stands proudly at attention and your eyes immediately lock onto the sight of it. Your whole body trembles at your proximity to the cure for your discomfort and you let out a long, pleading whine. Mistress takes a deep breath, and you can't imagine the restraint she must have to breath in a room that smells so strongly of heat without immediately finding and mounting the source of it. You're not surprised though, Mistress wouldn't have gotten as far in life as she has without strength, and you're so lucky that out of all the omegas she had to choose from, she picked you.

Mistress finally walks over and, with no preamble, plunges two fingers deep into your waiting cunt. You can't stop yourself from rutting against them. They're not exactly what you want, not nearly thick enough or long enough, yet you feel the heat cool ever so slightly at the stimulation. Mistress rocks her fingers inside you, infuriatingly slowly, and you roll your hips to meet them. You bite down on the tie in your mouth as you moan. A third finger joins the first two, and together they almost feel like enough. Mistress pulls them back until just the tips of her fingers hold you open, then plunges them in hard. She scissors them apart, stretching you out, and you thrash your head, chest heaving.

The fingers withdraw and your pulse quickens in anticipation. Mistress climbs gracefully onto the bed and settles between your open legs. She grabs your thighs and pushes them up and out, spreading you completely before her. You hold the position as best you can so she can let go of one of your legs and guide her leaking cock to your entrance. The tip spears you open and you try to roll up to take her in faster, but her other hand still on your thigh holds you in place. Thankfully, it doesn't take long for her to begin pushing in, but she does so agonizingly slowly. The oversensitive walls of your pussy feel every inch of her thick cock as it enters you. The tie in your mouth is soaked through with drool by this point, and even more dribbles down your chin as you pant and sob. After a long and agonizing day, she feels so big and so perfect inside of you. You're sure that your body was made specifically to take her like this. Finally, her hips sit flush against yours. Her balls are pressed between you, and you can feel the tip of her deep inside, right where it should be.

Mistress rolls her hips in a few shallow thrusts. Her careful composure finally cracks and her head falls back, eyes shut, and a sigh of contentment passes her lips. You plead as best you can around the gag in your mouth, please, faster, deeper. I need you; you're the only thing I need. Her eyes open just enough to stare hungrily at you, slick with sweat and trembling on her cock. Her hands press your thighs back as leverage, and finally, finally she begins pounding into you in earnest. You can't stop the high scream that rushes out of your lungs at the feeling of it. Nothing in your life comes close to this ecstasy. For all that you might try to push the rules every once and a while, at your core nothing makes you more satisfied than being completely owned and dominated by your Mistress.

The bed rocks under you with each hard thrust, and you wonder for a hysterical moment if Mistress is going to manage to actually pound you all the way through the mattress. Her cock is relentless inside you, each thrust hitting deep within your cunt. You've cum solely on Mistress's cock before, and after a long day of waiting for exactly this you can feel the heat building faster than it would have otherwise. Trembles shake your thighs and your core as your arousal crescendos and the walls of your pussy clench and spasm, bringing the dick still pounding inside you into even sharper focus. Mistress continues on, a hint of smugness in the wolfish grin she directs your way. Soon enough your heat will push her into rut and she'll cum on a hair trigger the same way you are, but for now she's able to hold back just enough to push you through one orgasm and start building you toward another.

You toss your head as your arousal builds again, the smallest sting of overstimulation undercuts every movement, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't love the sensation. Mistress slaps the back of your thigh once, twice, and that addition to the maelstrom of sensation coursing through you sends you over the edge again. As you shake and scream and clamp down around her, Mistress finally plunges deep into you and releases her seed almost directly into your womb, her knot swelling to trap it there. Her deep moan as she cums rumbles through both of you, and you almost miss hearing it over the involuntary whines still slipping out of you with each breath.

Mistress lets your legs fall and you just barely manage to wrap them loosely around her hips. She leans forward and works at the slick cloth in your mouth. Deft fingers undo the material and pull it out from behind your head, dropping it onto the mattress beside you. You know what she wants next, "th-thank you, Mi-mistress." Your teeth are almost chattering in exhaustion, but you need to be good now, after seeing what being bad can get you, "I'm s-sorry. I w-won't keep th-things from you again."

Lips press gently against yours, and hands rub up and down your hips and waist, soothing the heat still simmering in your core, "I know you won't, baby." You feel the words on your lips almost as strongly as you actually hear them, "You're a good omega, even when you push the rules, because you push the rules. I'd get bored without reasons to punish you, and I love you for giving that to me, sweetheart."

Finally, the ache and intolerable desire of heat withdraws, satisfied. It'll be back, of course, but your Mistress is here now. You squirm on her knot and tug on your cuffs, hoping she'll unlock them soon so you can wrap yourself around her and let her know how happy you are that you're hers. There's no place you'd rather be but here.

#be the f/f omegaverse you want to see in the world etc #bd/sm kink #b0ndage #bond@ge #kn0tting #omegaverse smut #a/b/o dynamics #queer smut #nsft #bd/sm slave #free use kink #skull stories

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shieldcaptain54 · 23 days ago

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Burn-In, Chapter 0.5

Hey there! im back and sooner than id imagined. a few things, i scaled back my project a smidge. initially i said i was writing a book, and truth be told, that was not going to happen. not with my current workflow. But, i have a preamble chapter (or at least, half of one) ready for those of you who would like to have a look. i figure small 3-5 page drops as i work on them is very achievable to keep the story rolling and people in the loop about what im making. think of it like getting first dibs on the first draft, marginally refined and looked over at least once. i can probably keep up with this at least once or twice a week. So, i suppose its time to hit Ctrl+v and actually paste it in. here goes... something. - - - - Burn-In 0.5 - - - -

This was a routine job. Get out, find the tower, service the connections, it's all second nature. Which is weird because that implies that there are things that are first nature. I should probably look up what that means. But to do that, gotta get the tower online. Boring. A few derelict flights of stairs later I hit rooftop access. Door was already wide open, not unusual but always unsettling. Feels like I brought my fancy tools for nothing. The sad part about being above the building limits is that there's nothing to see. Just the empty expanse for miles. Well, not empty, but crumbling. Crack open the first service locker, old units are fried. Typical. The first relay slid in with a gentle hiss. It's just depressing, you know? To see the place you've worked to keep safe your whole life, wither down to nothing. That's life… I think. The second relay glides in with a meaningless clunk as it hits the back of the panel. At least there's still work to be done. Can't do much without communications. Well, you could do a lot I suppose but it's hard. No one to talk to, no maps left to kindly update you on where your friends are. The mundane slips headlong into the station of the archaic. Breakers one, two and three flick closed with disinterested clacks. Static fills the air as power is restored. And that's one tower almost back up. Step two, climb. The harness carabiners click into the guy wires and the slow march begins. I suppose I could jump up there but… it's almost a waste of energy. Gotta be efficient. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast, fast keeps our defiant little network afloat. A hundred and thirty rungs up I hit the second panel. The latch, long since rusted away, was just held in place with a little electrical tape. This 'weatherproof' cabinet barely hangs onto the tower as I pry the door open. The fiber lines fall free of the mounting plate, strands eight, twelve and sixteen all are bleeding light. Pulses almost start to blur out with the rolling shutter. The strands break free with a not-so-gentle tug, and I affix the scanner to the newly severed ends. Readout is saying that they lose continuity all at the same place. Twelve thousand feet down the line, there's a booster that supplies way too much power. Lens is probably out of alignment, the focus is all wrong. Cable might have been pulled in the last landing. Explains why this block has been without much in the way of signal integrity. This is the routine. Find a deadzone, climb up, relight the beacons. Our torches in the night. Patch and re-patch our slowly dying infrastructure. Mile by mile. Minute by minute. I miss when all of this was shiny and new. I strip, cleave, and mend, the splices should hold true. This end of the line is done. The tower groans as I shift my weight and shuffle to close the panel. And so begins the descent. Steel soles clack and flutter against the rungs, I can feel my fingertips burn as I slide down the guy wire, grip tight to slow my fall. But they don't burn. Not really. My right palm gleams with infrared. In a pinch I might even be able to light a candle with a flick. Later though, it could be a fun party trick.

Down the stairs again and back to street level. Tower is feeding out some fresh data. Not getting the full picture though, those other fibers must have been pretty critical. Probably. I could just… note which lines are down and wander back. Might save some time. But that wouldn't be fair.

Do the best you can, with what you have, where you are. Can't forget that. Maybe I should get that tattooed when I get back. Or rather, engraved, I suppose. I'll add that to the list of amendments and repairs. Two blocks south, another east, I can feel it. Just under twelve hundred feet of sprawl. And it's empty. Just another abandoned intersection, cars waiting at the starting lines. Behind the long since scavenged lines of traffic I can see it. A footprint. Big one, by the looks of it, still filled with water from the last rain. That big fella last month must have stomped a little too close to the mains. No time to reminisce. Gotta stay focused. Just trace those lines, it's an easy pattern. Might be a junction box on another pole or…. Nope. nevermind. Found it. It's so irresponsible for those fleeing civilians to leave buses parked on the one thing I need to get into. The hatch is bright orange and flanked by not only a hydrant but a very clear line in the sand saying, “loading zone, fifteen minute parking”. Sure it's a crisis but there are rules still. What am I kidding myself, that was years ago. And inconveniently someone has decided that worn out city bus tires were good enough for their ride, this thing is on cinder blocks. Actual, literal cinder blocks. Disrespectful if you ask me. But what i'm about to do is arguably worse. What a shame too, it's a nice bus. Fingers retract back into safety, the plate formerly on the back of my hand folds flush with the end of the forearm. Just a little tap. Nothing fancy. A delightful crunch, alloys sparking against one another as paint chips and broken glass fly out to the ground. Just a little tap. That's all it takes. The bus grinds to a halt a few dozen feet back. Out of the loading zone and into the standstill of omnipresent immobile traffic. There's a crackle in the back of my mind. The tower was humming again. “---w- hat the hell was that, did you break something again?” Comms are back up. “No Mam. Just some light… redecoration. Needed to move something heavy.” Partial truth. It was also fun.

“Well you could at least let us know before you ram some hunk of junk down the street. Status report, Sol.”

That sure is my name. I should probably check in. For realsies.

“Communications scout, unit five-four, designation ‘Shit-Outta-Luck’, reporting back. Tower two is officially back online, partial functionality. Fiber trace shows a relay under my position is not within spec. Going to pull the patch panel and straighten things out. Endpoint shows a 16 strand line, three traces are out of phase. What's new with you?”

I can hear some scribbling on the other end. Long scrawls followed by four short strokes. A note and some checkboxes being ticked. Lindsey is such a stickler for documentation. Not in a bad way, just…. Dedicated. It's important to take notes.

“Nothing new except for the noise complaint. It's all quiet on the western front. Shit could hit the fan at any second and we can't exactly head back until that tower is back up. Not unless you want to be put on sentry duty back home.”

I shudder as my hand clicks back into place, being out on watch all night just gets boring. Not that wandering out here is much better.

“Sounds about right. Ill get this patched up, we can run a test signal, and then it's another long hike back.”

Back to the routine. Find panel, crack it open, pull, strip, clean, cleave, clean again, splice. Black, Aqua, Lime. Re-terminate the ends. And plug 'em back in. Terminals flicker, orange and red, orange, and back to green. A counter flickers on, code five, all clear.

It's weird that five is reserved for ‘proper working order’, that should really be one. That's the default. Even zero would make sense. But five? That's strange. Time to button it back up. The cabinet slides neatly on its rails down into the pavement. Re-cover and leave to simmer.

“Sol.”

“Yes, Mam?”

“Two things. First, you can just call me Lindsey. I keep telling you this. Second, you really gotta learn to stop letting your thoughts bleed over onto the radio. I heard all of…. Whatever that was.”

“Oh what, are jokes not allowed? Because im a pretty funny unit, once you get to know me. It's why I got this name, you know, that pleasant little double entendre~.”

“Because you are the only box of bolts with that spark we've found. When we were up the creek without a paddle, you were the only Soul left.”

“Aww, how nice. You remembered. Anyway, job should be done. Lines are patched. Run that test signal and we can be done for today.” - - - - End Log - - - - So! thats a little intro ive cooked up this evening. nothing major, probably needs a few changes to formatting and the works, but this is oficially the start of my short story. gonna shoot for maybe ten full chapters to start, should come out to about 50 pages worth of not-so-dense google docs. But, because there are always questions, ill go ahead and also chuck in some real answers, and by the way, thanks for reading this far! Sol is a funky lil guy ive had as my mascot and OC for a while now, check the bits of art ive got here if you wanna know what he looks like. TV head robot with a verbose disposition and maybe just a smidge of survivors guilt. Originally built in 2032, he is a repair unit on a mission to keep the grid alive after an apocalypse i will get around to explaining more of later! there's intrigue to be had and if you have your dessert now it'll spoil your dinner. Currently, he is serving as a steadfast scout for a ragtag group of survivors doing their best to track and update whoever else is listening on cool things like how to survive and stay alive. civilization cant recover without a little bit of elbow grease and a can do attitude, our mechanical protagonist probably has at least one and a half of those things. not saying which half. Lindsey is one of those stubborn humans who refused to give up, she currently serves as Sol's handler in the field, providing backup, advice, smalltalk, and the occasional repair complete with soul crushing reality check. a real solemn mentor type but more in the practice of, "im tired of these people not knowing how the world works now" type vibes. i will try and make art for her later, my hands are cramping from typing and gaming so i make no promises but i have some ideas so ill get those on paper and digitized later for your enjoyment. Current year for this setting is probably around 2050 or so. marginally more advanced tech, but truthfully nothing as extreme as say, Cyberpunk2077. This is much more in the light sci-fi space, but very importantly its going to be a little more grounded in its setting. these are street level stories in a broken city where we dont have the luxury of flying cars or even a stable power grid. this is the slow recovery of one city, block by block in the face of man made horrors within our comprehension and our protagonist is quite literally a blue collar working bot with a few tricks up his reinforced sleeves. also, im dedicated to depicting infrastructure as faithfully as i can, so if you ever catch a mistake ive made, share some knowledge, i love learning all of this stuff and want to keep the story as close to real life in those aspects as i can. my background is in communications technologies when it comes to this field but to branch out is to be better at this job and we could all do with an excuse to get more informed about cool shit. Thank you all for reading and seeing whats up, im no professional anymore, but ill try to keep the ball rolling and new chapters coming out. might be two halves each week, might be a whole chapter thrust into existence on sunday, but im gonna keep writing and having fun in the process. Until next time, this has been your Captain speaking, and its always a pleasure to have you aboard.

Well there goes my alarm. whoops. i should probably grab some sleep.

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itsgodepi · 5 months ago

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If I lose my mind | Ch. 11

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 3k Also on AO3

A gentle breeze greets you as you step onto the bar’s terrace, the heavy beat of the music fading into a muffled hum as the glass door swings shut behind you. Despite the warmth, the night air feels crisp and almost refreshing. The few scattered lounge areas are sparsely occupied, quiet conversations blend with the soothing ambiance, and you inhale deeply, feeling a wave of calm wash over you—a welcome contrast to the frenzy inside.

This is the first after-party you have attended since everything changed. You had not even known there was a party after the race until Charles’ playful complaints about your absence at his podium celebration clued you in. The thought of venturing out at night had seemed daunting then—after all, the paddock had become your safe haven, a place where the routine felt familiar. But missing Carlos’ party was simply out of the question, not if you wanted to avoid the relentless whining that would surely follow.

Your time in Monaco with Charles, and the nice lunch with Daniel, had shown you just how much of this world you had yet to explore. Especially now, when the doors to a lavish lifestyle which you had yet to grasp, had swung open for you. Despite not seeing a single euro from your ‘work’, being a famous Formula One driver sure had its perks. Tonight was a perfect example: here you were, in one of the most luxurious hotels you had ever encountered, clad in a stunning dress from your pre-arranged luggage, all without spending a cent.

The building, perched elegantly on the edge of a tranquil river, boasts an expansive terrace adorned with soft lights that gently yield to the brilliance of the starlit sky. A secluded club, nestled on the outskirts of the city, packed with a glittering array of celebrities —actors, singers, athletes, you name it— all immersed in an atmosphere of opulence that is both mesmerizing and intense.

You take a few steps forward, intending to lean against the railing to fully absorb the serene scenery—the subtle scent of the flowing water, the sense of liberation that the night seems to offer—, when a man seated in solitude catches your eye.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you approach him, the rhythmic clack of your heels on the terrace floor accompanying your steps. He is clad in a black sweater with a low neck, a big necklace hanging from his neck “What are you doing out here?” you ask, your voice light “Everyone’s inside.”

Lewis looks up, surprise flickering across his features. The terrace lights catch in his dark eyes, turning them into an intricate constellation. “Could ask you the same” he replies with a smirk, shifting to the side of the black sofa to make space for you. “I thought you were having fun dancing around with the girls”.

“Yeah, Alex and George’s girlfriend are nice, but everything is just...” you sink into the cushions, letting out an exasperated sigh as you lean your elbow on the armrest, fidgeting with the straps of your shoes. You take this brief moment to compose yourself, offering a distraction from the truth that feels too overwhelming to voice.

The strangeness of the night, the unfamiliar country, and the sea of faces —some known, many not— have left you feeling adrift. The idea of being surrounded by so many people, who were supposedly mere byproducts of your imagination, was utterly disorienting. How could something so elaborate and vivid possibly be a mere fantasy? It all felt so...

You shake your head, chiding yourself. You shouldn’t have gone out tonight —those drinks did not help either.

With a deep breath, you decide to push those thoughts aside and opt for a lighter excuse “If they play Animals one more time, I’m jumping off the balcony, I swear”

A soft chuckle escapes the Mercedes driver. “You better stay out here then” He takes a sip of his drink, crossing his legs and shifting his gaze from his glass to the breathtaking scenery, “I thought you liked electronic music”

“Yeah, I do, but—wait, how do you know that?” you notice halfway into your explanation, frowning at him. It is not like you had much time to play music since you were thrusted into this situation, so where did that come from?

Lewis shrugs, his eyes crinkling with a grin he barely manages to conceal, a trace of pride in his expression as though he is pleased to have surprised you.

“Well, yes, I do like it” you give in, tilting your head. Despite the theories crowding your mind, you prefer not to think about that. Just for today. “I guess I’ve just gotten used to Spanish nightclubs. There’s a lot less jumping, that’s for sure”

Although you were having a hard time back in Spain, you had made a couple friends during your external internship that liked to party until the early hours of the day. They showed you around the city, took you to some of the most beautiful places you had ever seen and were there when you were not in the mood for any of that.

It was nice, being with them, your small home away from home. You missed them, dearly.

“Oh, right. You were in Mallorca with Carlos, weren’t you?” he realizes, a teasing note in his voice that you choose to overlook.

“You know too much,” you reply with a playful smile, raising a pointing finger at him. Even if that is not the real reason, you prefer not to get into specifics. Not tonight “Yeah, Charles and I went to visit him for a couple days. It was nice, did they tell you about it?”

Lewis shakes his head, adjusting himself more comfortably on the sofa, draping his arm over the backrest. “That bit I picked up from the articles.”

Of course. You'd almost managed to forget about the media frenzy the impromptu holiday had caused.

You barely recall how the idea for a trip came up on the flight to Monaco —something about the scorching temperatures in Monaco prompting Carlos to check the weather in Mallorca, and you mentioning you’d never been there. That was all the spanish needed to organize a full weekend getaway to the island for the three of you, all under the guise of inaugurating his new boat.

Those photos had spread across the internet like wildfire. Both Ferrari and Haas’ media team blowing up your phones as soon as you put a foot back into the port.

You haven't yet worked up the courage to read those articles . Seeing the coverage about your on-track activities is one thing, clad in a costume and playing the part, but having your entire itinerary laid out online feels like an entirely different level of exposure.

It feels like another sign that this universe is a mere construct of your imagination, there is no way they could find you on a boat in the middle of the sea. Everything feels so artificial —or, perhaps, unnervingly real.

For a moment, you consider how ready you are to confront the topic that’s been swirling in your mind all day. Gathering your resolve, you ask tentatively, “Did you see the articles about us?”

A quick search of your names brings up a flood of results: articles and social media posts either critiquing your supposed ambition to climb the fame ladder or fawning about how great you look together. Hundreds of photos and videos have emerged, supposedly capturing moments where you are seen looking ‘longingly’ at each other during interviews or gravitating towards one another during pre-race activities. You won't lie, you enjoy those last ones way too much.

A brief silence falls over the scene. You lift your gaze to meet his, as if expecting something —an answer, reassurance, you’re not quite sure.

“I did” Lewis confirms with a nod, his voice nearly lost to the breeze.

You drop your gaze, your fingers absently tracing the seam of your dress as a pout forms on your lips. “You know, the others were teasing me about it.”

“Were they?” his voice carries a hint of mock surprise, as if he anticipated this would come up “Who? Leclerc?”

“No, it was Lando. And well, Daniel and Carlos too” you clarify, recalling how they were basically fuelling each other, although the mention of the Monegasque has your alarms blaring “Wait, why Charles?”

"Oh, Daniel too?” Lewis highlights the McLaren’s driver name with a chuckle, completely ignoring your question “And Carlos... well, I’m not surprised about that one, after that... effusive celebration”

You give his leg a playful slap, pretending to be exasperated by the teasing. You know the journalists are going to have a field day with your hug in front of the podium. You’ve already seen a few of those photos making the rounds on social media. But it really doesn’t matter. The press can speculate about a relationship between you and Carlos, or any little interaction between you and the rest of the drivers, the truth is far less dramatic.

Following in on his joke you mention the only driver who has been left out, “Not Lando?”

“Maybe, who knows?” he throws the question out into the universe, his eyes steady on yours.

Neither the universe nor you offer him an answer, only crossing your arms and letting out an exaggerated sign. Honestly, it is more of an excuse to scan the balcony’s guests, taking in their scattered forms and quiet conversations.

Sensing the lull in the conversation, Lewis offers you a sip from his drink. You eye the glass, considering whether to indulge in another round. The couple drinks you already had still swirling around in your head, a lingering attempt to calm your social anxiety. With a slight nod, you accept the glass and take a tentative sip. The cold liquid burns its way down your throat, a sensation that makes you scrunch your nose in distaste. You promptly hand the glass back to Lewis, casting him a puzzled glance.

What’s in there? It’s the embodiment of a poisoned peace offering. The taste lingers unpleasantly, settling heavily in your stomach.

The British man watches with an amused smirk, barely concealing it as finish what’s left of the drink himself, finally setting the empty glass on the coffee table with a soft clink. He turns back to you, his expression now more composed, and says softly, “If you’re worried about the press, we can always give it a rest for a while. It’s fine by me”

Although you try to conceal your reaction to the proposed solution, even Lewis is surprised at the way your eyes shot up to his. The idea of purposely avoiding each other during race events seemingly a tough compromise in that moment. Despite your growing familiarity with the chaotic world of Formula 1—two months of navigating this madness have certainly made an impact—Lewis has been a constant source of comfort amid the frenzy, a steady anchor for your sanity.

“I mean...” you clasp your hands over your lap, nodding along to the plan, although a bit disoriented “Yeah, sure, whatever you think is best”

Lewis catches your hesitation, reading the unease on your face. His expression softens as he opens his mouth to speak, a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air. But before he can say anything, his attention shifts to something behind you.

“What are you doing out here?” the familiar question comes before strong arms wrapping around you in a warm hug from behind the sofa. The voice, laced with genuine happiness, whispers into your ear “I’m so happy you’ve come,” making a pleasant shiver run down your spine.

You lean against Carlos’s shoulder, melting into his embrace as best you can with your arms pinned beneath his. The sweet scent of his cologne and the faint hint of alcohol mix in the chilly air, intensifying the comforting warmth.

“I was chilling for a bit” you reply as he pulls away. You offer Lando a wave when he appears behind Carlos’ figure. They both sit at the sofa by your right, the older one placing his drink on the glass table, and you let out a tired sigh “I don’t know how you guys do this. I’m exhausted.”

It is a miracle that you are still awake and attentive at this hour, let alone engaged in conversation. Normally, you’d be out like a light by now. The physical and mental demands of a Grand Prix weekend usually leave you running on fumes, barely making it through airport security as Nick guides you to the next spot on the calendar. And yet, these men —who have actually spent almost two hours driving at breakneck speeds in a state of extreme focus— can seamlessly transition to partying all night, just hours after the race.

“I’m fine actually” Lewis instantly assures, with a shrug, leaning back into the sofa. His playful tone not fully registering until you hear Lando’s laugh.

It has not been the best of days for the British driver. Afterall, the nasty collision that sent his car flying at the first corner, forcing him to retire after just two laps. The incident plays on a loop in your mind, the memory of his car flying across the air still vivid. You reach over and squeeze his hand. “That was scary,” you admit, the concern in your voice unmistakable.

Lewis grimaces, an exasperated sigh rolling out of him.

“Careful what you say, Lewis,” Lando snickers, glancing between you and Carlos with a mischievous grin. “We’re in an Alonso slander-free zone here.”

Carlos shoves Lando playfully to the side, and you are quick to interject, your voice a touch louder than needed. “Yes, we sure are!” you assert, refusing to let anyone criticize the Spaniard. Especially when you, with your limited but growing F1 knowledge, are certain the collision wasn’t at all his fault. “And you are one to talk anyway, we’re not in a Lando slum-, what was it? well, whatever-you-said free zone...”

Alright, your English is beginning to falter. Not a good sign.

The implications of your jab seem to strike a chord in the younger man, who abruptly incorporates himself in the sofa, curls bouncing over his head with the motion. He clasps his hands together and leans over his knees, ready to argue his case “Oh, really? Let’s talk about it, then”

You’re equally eager to dive into the debate, fuelled by a mix of liquid courage and post-race indignation, he almost smashed his car into yours mid-race. You have not suffered through a two-hour post-race debrief for nothing “Well, first of-”

Eyes wide, hands frozen in the air, you hear it—a familiar beat filtering through the club’s glass door. “Oh!” The word slips out as a huge grin spreads across your face. You recognize the opening notes immediately, and your gaze darts to Carlos. “Gasolina, ¡Carlos! ¡Gasolina! ¡No me lo creo!”

You leap off the sofa, excitement bubbling over as the music pulses from inside the club —though you feel a tad bit lightheaded. Your sudden movement draws the attention of nearly everyone on the balcony. Realizing this, you offer a sheepish smile and a quick wave in apology before lowering your voice. “C’mon, let’s go inside,” you urge Carlos, practically bouncing on your heels. The thought of dancing to the iconic song fills you with a giddy anticipation.

But the man doesn’t move. Instead, he stares at you with a bemused expression and groans, “I just came out here!”

Your enthusiasm wavers as you glance between him and the door, a pout forming on your lips. You really want to head inside, to lose yourself in the music for a while, but the idea of going alone feels daunting. You have had enough encounters with strangers claiming to know you for tonight. Maybe Carlos’ presence would act as a deterrence, or at least steal all the attention. Plus, you simply want to enjoy the song in the Ferrari driver’s company.

The excitement slowly dies when you watch him pull a tired grimace, the strain from the day probably catching up to him once the adrenaline was finally wearing off.

With a tilt of your head, you ask one final time, “No?” Your voice is softer now, tinged with a hint of defeat as you begin to turn back towards your seat.

Just before you can sit back down, Carlos reaches out and grabs your hand, prompting you to help him get up from the sofa. He rises with a slow stretch, shaking his head with a resigned chuckle. “I don’t even like dancing” he complains, though his grip is firm and reassuring as he stands beside you.

You beam up at him, grateful for his company. You gesture to Lando and Lewis, inviting them to join, the mix of alcohol and excitement making your nerves tingle. Yet, although they both seem entertained by your enthusiasm, they decline your offer as quick as you extend it.

With a shrug, you turn back to the club entrance, Carlos following reluctantly. His light-hearted complaints become background noise as you bob your head to the rhythm of the song. “Por fin ponen una buena y tú... (They finally play a good one and you...)” you tease him, but suddenly feel a tug on your hand.

You look back at the driver, confused by what made him come to such a sudden halt, and find him greeting someone. Well, not just someone.

“Charles!” you exclaim, quickly leaning in to hug him, your hand still linked with Carlos’s.

The man’s face brightens with a warm smile. “How are you? Haven’t seen you all night.” His light eyes sparkle as they meet yours, but there’s a flicker of curiosity as they glance at the linked hands between you and Carlos.

“I’m fine! We’re going in ‘cause I love the song, want to come with?” you hastily explain, the rhythm of the song already arriving to the chorus fuelling your eagerness and not mixing well with your foggy brain.

His smile wavers slightly, gaze bounces between you and Carlos as he finally decides that “No, it’s alright. I’m going to cool off for a bit. You guys have fun.”.

Charles watches you disappear into the flashing lights and thumping music, turning back toward the dimly lit terrace. The night now feeling just a touch colder.

Next chapter

Author's note: I was missing writing so much, hope you liked it. Thank you all so much for reading, any kind of interaction is greatly appreciated!

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