#completely normal coworker situation

[bealzebubbb]

season 1 jon just admiring martin’s wit and nothing beyond that! no sir!

[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

Christmas really is the most cursed holiday when you can't stand being touched.

[dearsnow]

12:29 AM

- your normally sober husband comes home drunk out of his mind after a party, and you can’t say that he’s any less sweet. (robert “bob” floyd x wife!reader, fluff, honestly one of the cutest things i’ve ever written, ⚠️ obviously heavy themes of alcohol and being drunk, sexual innuendos but nothing graphic)

word count: 1,502

a/n - i haven’t written a fic with a timestamp as the title in… (checks old blog) over three years?!? in any case, i hope you guys like drunk!bobby as much as i do <3 he’s definitely an emotional/clingy drunk imo.

It’s not often that your husband stays out late, and it’s not often that he doesn’t text you while he’s out, but you trust him. He’s not the type to get blackout drunk or come home stumbling through the doorframe. Robert Floyd is a clearheaded and strong man.

Well, he looks neither right now, as he’s supported by Jake and Javy’s arms, glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose and a dopey smile brightening his face. Jake looks at you apologetically— as apologetic as he can get for a situation that’s likely his fault. “Sorry, hun.” He huffs, shifting around Bob’s weight. “There were a few too many fruity drinks ordered, and I guess he didn’t realize they were full of alcohol.”

“You guess?” You ask, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your fingers. The two more sober men lead Bob into your bedroom, half-dragging him. They lay him down on your shared bed with a softened thump that has him groaning on top of the sheets. “I can’t believe you guys.”

Bob went out with the rest of the squad for some coworker’s promotion celebration, and he promised to come home perfectly sober, as always. He doesn’t even need to promise, if you’re being honest, because that’s just how he is; the most levelheaded person in the room. He would stay until it was socially acceptable for an acquaintance to leave, then he would head home and help you cook dinner to your favorite old school tunes. You never expected to see him shitfaced at 12:29 AM.

Javy shakes his head as he steps around you, taking Jake for a clean escape. “We tried to warn him. I hope he feels better in the morning, but until then, we’re gonna have to leave him with you.”

You sigh, eyebrows just as pinched as they were before. For the first time ever, you’re scared that Bob is going to die in his sleep, and the thought frustrates you to no end. “Thanks. It’s so great that he’s drunk out of his mind, but I have to give you credit for getting him here in one piece.” Your tone is sarcastic enough to get the two men cringing in shame, but you also know that without them, he might still be at that party.

Jake pats you on the shoulder. “Good luck, soldier. You’ll need it.”

With that, Javy and Jake walk out of your bedroom, past your living room, and out of your house like they couldn’t wait to leave. As you hear them close the door, you look down at your husband.

He’s still conscious, thankfully. His eyes are slightly unfocused, he’s blushing like a madman, and he’s groaning lightly, but he’s not completely gone yet. You brush the damp hair away from his forehead and he whines just a bit.

“Wife.”

You quirk your eyebrow in confusion. “Yes?”

“I… have a wife. Y’ can’t touch me like that.” He mumbles. It feels like he’s looking past you. Despite everything, you feel like laughing.

You adjust his glasses on his face and lean over him a little more, fully in his field of vision. “I am your wife.”

His eyes widen like he’s seeing you for the first time, and he smiles crookedly. He tries to sit up, but only manages to prop himself up on one arm as he takes in the sight of your face. “S’ pretty. You’re really my wife? My girl?” In combination with the slurred words of someone down in the cups, the slight southern accent he took so much time to push away is coming back as he speaks to you.

“Yes.” You confirm, kissing him on the cheek. He somehow smiles even wider and reaches out to touch the apples of your cheeks.

“Love you. I missed you.” He mumbles. “Spent that whole party wonderin’ when I could see you again.” He flops back down onto the springy mattress, throwing his arms up. He moves with the precision of a toddler, his limbs seemingly coated in lead. He almost smacks the glasses off his face as he motions to you with grabby hands.

“I missed you too, honey. Can we get you into your pajamas? I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans and a polo.” As you ask that question, his fingers are already attempting to pull the shirt off of his body. It doesn’t work very well, considering he’s still laying down, but you appreciate the effort. “Sit up, my love.”

He sits up, winking at you heavily. It’s more like a slow blink with how long it takes him to do it. “Can’t wait to get me naked?”

A laugh escapes your mouth, and you smother the rest of your giggles with the heel of your palm as you gaze at his slightly crestfallen face. He’s funny when drunk, apparently, even when he isn’t trying to be. It’s like seeing him completely unhinged with none of his usual, careful filters. “Sure. You need to be in some state of undress to get your pajamas on, anyways.”

His face falls into a slight pout as you help him unbutton the top of his polo and slide it up his chest. He seems to notice how your hands hesitate when meeting the warm, taut skin of his abs, and the pout fades instantly. “Like it?”

“I always do.” You hum. He does have a great body, one that you’ve found to be extraordinarily hot. Strong arms, tight muscles, and yet a gentleness in the way his hands hold yours. Right now, though, it’s a bit of a problem as you’re attempting to get his jeans off. He’s still sitting, and you think you could lift weights for ten years and not be able to pull them out from under him. “Can you stand, Bobby?”

“Gladly.” He sings. You help him stand, supporting a bit of his weight. He seems to find a little bit of his footing as his other arm presses into the wall, allowing the both of you to shimmy his pants down his legs and kick them to some unknown corner of the room.

You gather his neatly folded pajamas, a soft shirt and some plaid flannel pants, and help him put them on. Luckily for you, he’s been revitalized by your touch and is a little more helpful now. He’s still moving awkwardly and shifting around like he’s constantly trying to get his balance straightened out, but it’s better than nothing. It would be hell to get him to do anything other than dress, though, so you settle for just getting him in bed. His dental hygiene routine will have to wait.

You lay him back down after he’s dressed and pull the blankets up to his chin, kissing his forehead gently and tucking his glasses in your dresser drawer. You’re already ready for the night (the perks of thinking he would come home three hours ago), so you slip in bed next to him. He immediately pulls you into his arms, his body comfortingly warm. He’s always run just a little hot, which is amazing on cooler nights like this.

He sighs contentedly before moving to stare directly into your eyes. “Y’know,” he starts, “I can’t sleep without your arms ‘round me, and your legs ‘round me, and you breathing all sweet on my neck. ‘M up all night when I’m deployed, at first anyways. My carrier roommates hate it.”

You shift just enough as to where your body is clutching on to him as tight as possible, and he hums in relief. It’s like the little tension that he was holding dissipated entirely. “I’m sorry, baby. That must be hard.” You soothe.

“Payback gave me his pillow once so I could wrap it in my arms, but it didn’t help. He threatened to ‘come up there n’ cuddle me himself’ if I didn’t stop moving.” He scrunches his eyes closed at the memory. You do your best to suppress another bout of laughter, but he makes it even harder when he shivers like he isn’t covered in three layers of blankets and you.

“Did he ever follow through?” You ask, pressing your lips together to stop from smiling. Bob shakes his head.

“Thank god he didn’t.” He utters. You turn to shove your face into your pillow to muffle your expressions. He just keeps his eyes closed, completely unaware of the fact that you’re losing it next to him.

When you finally come up for air, he is drifting in and out of sleep. “Love ya. G’night.” He whispers. It’s so soft that you almost start laughing again.

“Good night, Bobby. Love you too.” You say, kissing his cheek. You click off the lamp on your bedside table and snuggle deeper into his grasp.

He’s going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. At least he’ll have his wife, breakfast in bed, and an aspirin to take care of him.

Taglist: @seitmai

[reidmarieprentiss]

Textual Tension

Summary: You accidentally send a very suggestive text to your awkward coworker, and he replies...

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut (18+), fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, awkward tension

Word count: 6.1k

a/n: has anyone ever sent a sext to the wrong person?? i've only ever sent them to my friends on accident and for that i am so thankful

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving), mild breast play, soft dom spencer

You sit on your bed, the soft glow of your phone illuminating your face as you type out a rather suggestive message to the person you've been casually hooking up with. A smirk tugs at your lips as you hit send, confident that the message will hit its mark. 

I've been thinking about you… Can't stop imagining what I'd do if you were here right now. I want to feel your hands all over me, the way you’d make me moan… Let’s make fantasy a reality?

But within seconds, your heart stops as you realize the terrible mistake you've just made.

You’ve sent the message to Spencer.

Spencer.

Your coworker. The brilliant, kind, and awkwardly charming genius who you’ve always had a friendly, professional relationship with. And, of course, the one who has been harboring a massive, secret crush on you. A fact that, unbeknownst to you, has led to countless daydreams and wishes that you might feel the same.

The blood drains from your face as you stare at your phone, horrified, praying that somehow the message didn’t actually go through, or maybe, just maybe, Spencer won’t read it and will simply delete it. But you know better—Spencer is meticulous about everything. Of course, he’ll read it. You’re absolutely mortified, every worst-case scenario flashing through your mind.

Meanwhile, in his apartment, Spencer is settling down with a cup of tea, ready to dive into the book he’s been reading. When his phone buzzes, he picks it up absentmindedly, assuming it’s just a work-related message or something mundane. But as he reads the words on the screen, his eyes widen in shock, his breath catching in his throat.

His thoughts run wild, heart pounding as he rereads the text, each time wondering if it could possibly be real. Could you, the person he’s admired from afar for so long, actually want him in the way he’s secretly yearned for? The idea is intoxicating, and before he can second-guess himself, he responds with a message that matches your energy, his pulse quickening at the boldness of it.

Wow… I didn’t know you were into me like that. I’ve been thinking about you too. If you want, we can definitely make that happen.

The moment you see his reply, your stomach drops. You can't believe this is happening. You’re completely mortified, your mind spinning with the implications. How could you ever face him again? You don’t respond, the fear and embarrassment paralyzing you, leaving you in a state of panic.

The next day at work, you’re a bundle of nerves. Every step you take towards the bullpen feels like you’re walking to your own doom. When you finally arrive, you try to act normal, but the tension is palpable. You can’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with Spencer, every interaction feeling like it’s laced with the humiliation of last night’s mistake.

Spencer, on the other hand, is caught in a whirlwind of emotions. At first, he’s elated, thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance you were into him. But as the day drags on and you remain distant, the excitement turns to confusion, then a sharp sting of rejection. Did he misread the situation? Was it all just a mistake? He’s left feeling awkward and exposed, unsure of where he stands with you now.

—

The tension between you and Spencer had become a nearly tangible thing, a thread pulled taut between the two of you, ready to snap at any moment. At first, your glances in his direction were purely out of necessity—quick, fleeting looks to gauge his mood, to see if he was as affected by this as you were. But as the days passed, those glances became more frequent, more lingering.

It started innocently enough. You’d look over and notice how effortlessly his hair seemed to fall into place, the soft waves framing his face in a way that made him look almost ethereal. You’d never paid much attention before, but now you couldn’t help but admire how it suited him, how it added to his charm.

Then, it was his forearms. You’d catch him pushing up the sleeves of his button-down shirt, revealing the sinewy strength beneath the fabric. There was something about the casual way he did it, the way the muscles in his arms flexed ever so slightly as he worked, that made your heart skip a beat. It was such a simple thing, but it had a profound effect on you, stirring something deep within.

And then there was the way he licked his lips when he was focused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he concentrated on whatever task was in front of him. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have his attention focused solely on you, to feel the intensity of that gaze as he looked at you, not with confusion or uncertainty, but with desire.

The more you noticed these little things, the more conflicted you became. This was Spencer—sweet, brilliant, and awkward Spencer. The idea of seeing him in a different light had never really crossed your mind before, but now… now it was all you could think about. The memory of his bold response to your accidental text played on a loop in your mind, taunting you with the possibilities.

What if you responded? What if you stopped overthinking everything and just… saw where it could go? The idea terrified you, but it also excited you in a way you hadn’t expected. There was something thrilling about the thought of exploring this new dynamic, of seeing if there was something more between you and Spencer than just a shared workspace.

You found yourself daydreaming about it, wondering how he would react if you sent him a message, if you matched the energy of his reply. Would he be as nervous as you were, or would he surprise you with a confidence you hadn’t seen before? The thought of it made your pulse quicken, a flush of warmth spreading through you.

But with the excitement came doubt. What if this was a mistake? What if you were reading too much into things, and responding to his text would only make the situation worse? The fear of making things awkward again, of possibly ruining your work life further, held you back. Yet, the thought of doing nothing felt like a missed opportunity, like you were letting something potentially amazing slip through your fingers.

As the day dragged on, you found it harder and harder to focus on your work. Every time you saw Spencer, every time you noticed another little detail about him that you hadn’t before, the urge to reach out grew stronger. It was like there was a tug-of-war going on inside you, with one side urging you to take the risk and see what could happen, and the other holding you back out of fear.

Finally, as the workday was winding down, you made a decision. Maybe you were overthinking this—maybe it was time to just go for it and see what came of it. After all, Spencer had responded positively, hadn’t he? There was a chance, a real chance, that he felt something for you too, something more than just a workplace friendship.

Sitting on your couch with your heart pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you debated what to say. You didn’t want to be too forward, but you also didn’t want to be vague. After a few moments of contemplation, you typed out a message, your hands trembling slightly as you reread it.

Hey, about that text… Maybe we should talk. Or… you know, not just talk. If you’re still interested.

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, your heart racing as you watched the message deliver. There was no going back now.

The rest of the evening was a blur of anxiety and anticipation. You couldn’t stop thinking about what his response might be, what it could mean for the two of you. When your phone finally buzzed with a new message, you hesitated for just a moment before opening it.

I’m definitely interested. Let’s talk… or not just talk, whenever you’re ready.

The words were simple, but they held so much promise. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you read them, a mixture of relief and excitement flooding your senses. This was happening. You and Spencer were about to cross a line, to explore something new and thrilling.

Just as you were contemplating what to say, how to navigate this sudden and unexpected turn in your relationship, another notification lit up your screen.

Come over? Now?

The message was short, simple, and completely electrifying. It sent a jolt through your system, leaving you momentarily speechless. The implications of it were clear—Spencer wasn’t just thinking about this; he was ready to act on it, to turn this accidental confession into something real and immediate.

Your mind raced as you considered what to do next. Just minutes ago, you were agonizing over whether or not to even respond, and now he was inviting you over, as if the decision had already been made. The sheer boldness of his message left you breathless, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement.

You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like—showing up at his place, the air thick with the unspoken tension that had been building between you all day. The thought of being alone with him, of crossing that line from coworkers to something more, sent a thrill through you.

You took a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. This was a pivotal moment, and whatever you decided now would set the course for what happened next.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of internal debate, you typed out a response, your heart racing as you hit send.

I'll be there in 20 minutes.

—

You parked outside Spencer’s apartment building, your heart racing as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. The 20-minute drive had been filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions—excitement, anticipation, and a lingering thread of uncertainty. You weren’t entirely sure what to expect when you arrived, especially considering how different Spencer had seemed over text compared to how he usually was in person. The Spencer you knew was shy, adorably awkward, and hesitant when it came to personal matters. But his texts had shown a side of him that was bold, confident, and unafraid to take charge.

As you approached his door, your nerves started to get the better of you, but there was no turning back now. You lifted your hand to knock, hesitating for just a moment before finally letting your knuckles rap against the wood. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity, your mind racing with possibilities of how this night could unfold.

When the door finally opened, you were taken aback by the sight that greeted you. Spencer stood there, shirtless, the soft glow of his apartment’s light highlighting the lean lines of his torso. He wore nothing but a pair of low-hanging gray sweatpants, the waistband slung low on his hips, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the defined muscles and trail of hair beneath. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d run his hands through it moments before opening the door, and his eyes, usually filled with a mix of curiosity and gentle kindness, now held a smoldering intensity that you had never seen before.

For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the sight of him. This wasn’t the Spencer you were used to—this was the man who had responded to your accidental text with a confidence that had both surprised and intrigued you. The awkward, hesitant Spencer you knew seemed to have taken a backseat, making way for someone who knew exactly what he wanted.

And what he wanted, it seemed, was you.

He leaned casually against the doorframe, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched your reaction. There was a heat in his gaze, a silent challenge that dared you to step inside, to see just how far this newfound confidence could take him.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m glad you came.”

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts, but the sight of him standing there like that—so effortlessly confident, so unapologetically enticing—made it difficult to think of anything but the rush of desire that was quickly building within you.

“Hey,” you managed to reply, your voice a little breathless. “You… uh, look different.”

Spencer’s smile widened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped aside to let you in. “Well I should hope so,” he said, his tone teasing, but with an underlying seriousness that sent your heart racing even faster.

You stepped inside, feeling the warmth of his apartment wrap around you as the door clicked shut behind you. The atmosphere between you was charged, electric, every moment filled with unspoken possibilities. Spencer moved closer, his presence almost overwhelming in its intensity. The scent of him—a mix of something clean and masculine—filled your senses, making you even more acutely aware of the heat radiating from his skin.

“I’ve been thinking,” Spencer began, his voice soft yet steady, as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “About what was said...”

Your breath hitched at the light touch, your skin tingling where his fingers had just been. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid that your voice might betray just how much his presence was affecting you.

“I don’t want this to be awkward,” he continued, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “But I also don’t want to pretend that nothing’s changed… because it has.”

He was right—everything had changed. The air between you was thick with tension, with the unspoken acknowledgment of what you both wanted but were too nervous to voice. And yet, here he was, standing so close, shirtless and confident, laying it all out in front of you.

Taking a deep breath, you finally found your voice. “So… what happens next?”

Spencer’s lips quirked up into a small, almost mischievous smile. “I think that depends on what you want.”

His words hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation all at once. You could feel the pull, the magnetic attraction drawing you closer to him, and in that moment, you knew there was no turning back.

With a boldness you hadn’t known you possessed, you stepped even closer, your body nearly brushing against his as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “I want to find out what happens when we stop pretending.”

The last remnants of hesitation melted away as Spencer’s smile turned into something more—something hungry and determined. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips descended on yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. It was fierce, consuming, a release of all the tension that had been building between you.

As his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer still, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you had only begun to scratch the surface of the side of Spencer Reid you were about to discover tonight.

The world around you blurred as Spencer’s lips moved against yours, his kiss deepening with every passing second. Time seemed to lose all meaning as you lost yourself in the warmth of his touch, the taste of his lips, and the way his hands gripped your waist with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. It felt like you had been kissing for an eternity, and yet when he finally pulled back, you found yourself gasping for breath, your mind spinning, and your body aching for more.

Spencer’s eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a heat that made your pulse quicken. Without saying a word, he took your hand, his grip firm yet gentle, leading you down the hall towards his bedroom. The anticipation thrummed in your veins, every step heightening the tension between you. But just as you reached the doorway, Spencer suddenly stopped, turning to press you against the doorframe. His lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing kisses that made your knees weaken and your breath hitch.

You barely had time to process the sensation before he pulled back again, a playful gleam in his eyes as he gently but firmly guided you into the bedroom. With a swift motion, he pushed you onto the bed, and you bounced slightly, a surprised giggle escaping your lips. The unexpected shift in his demeanor—this newfound confidence, this playful dominance—left you both intrigued and a little off-balance. You’d known Spencer as the quiet, reserved, and somewhat shy genius, but this side of him was something entirely different, and you couldn’t help but be captivated by it.

As you lay there, still trying to wrap your head around this change, you found yourself blurting out a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind. “Do you do this a lot, Reid?”

Spencer chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a ripple of warmth through your body. He shook his head with a smile that was equal parts reassuring and teasing. “No, not ever really,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady, as he reached for your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, positioning himself between your legs. His hands rested on your thighs, the warmth of his touch seeping through your clothes, grounding you in the moment.

“Call me Spencer,” he added, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, his gaze locking onto yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. There was something intimate about the way he said it, as if this wasn’t just about physical attraction, but about letting you see a side of him that no one else had. 

Your heart skipped a beat at the request, the simple act of calling him by his first name in this context making the moment feel even more personal, more real. 

“Spencer,” you repeated, the name slipping from your lips like a secret, a promise. His smile widened, a spark of something almost wicked flashing in his eyes, and you realized that you were about to discover a side of him that you’d never imagined existed.

Spencer leaned in, his hands sliding up your thighs, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I’ve been wanting this for a long time, you know. I just never thought…” He trailed off, as if realizing that words weren’t enough to express what he was feeling. Instead, he captured your lips with his again, his kiss searing and insistent, as though he were making up for lost time.

Spencer's hands, warm and steady, slowly trailed up your sides, his fingers grazing the soft fabric of your t-shirt as they moved. When he reached the hem, he hesitated, his touch gentle but deliberate as he curled his fingers around the edge. He looked up at you, his expression a mix of desire and tenderness, but there was something else too—a careful consideration, a need to ensure that you were just as willing as he was.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. The intensity of his gaze held you captive, his eyes searching yours for the reassurance he needed.

For a moment, you were too caught up in the heat of the moment to respond, your heart pounding in your chest. The way he looked at you, with such raw want and yet so much care, made it hard to think clearly. You nodded quickly, your eyes wide with anticipation, but Spencer didn’t move.

His grip on your shirt tightened slightly as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I’m going to need you to use your words, sweetheart.”

The way he said it—his voice rough, almost gritted out with barely restrained desire—made your head spin, the sheer force of his need for you sending your pulse into overdrive. There was a command in his tone, but also a gentle reminder that this was your choice, that he needed to hear you say it.

You swallowed hard, your voice catching in your throat as you tried to find the words. The air around you felt thick with tension, every second stretching out as you stared up at him, the look in his eyes making it impossible to deny him—or yourself.

“Ye—yes, please,” you finally managed to say, your voice a little breathless, but full of the same want that you saw reflected in his eyes.

Spencer’s eyes darkened with satisfaction at your response, a small, almost predatory smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he began to lift your shirt. The fabric slid up your torso slowly, the cool air of the room hitting your skin as he revealed more of you. He took his time, savoring the moment, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside.

For a brief moment, you felt exposed, vulnerable under the weight of his gaze. But the way Spencer looked at you, with a mixture of awe and hunger, made all your insecurities melt away. His hands roamed over the newly exposed skin, his touch both soothing and electrifying, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity and desire, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your collarbone, his lips lingering against your skin.

You had forgone a bra that night, thinking nothing of it when you slipped into your comfy clothes after a long day at work. After all, you hadn’t planned on anything like this happening. But now, with Spencer’s hands on you, his eyes filled with something that looked a lot like awe, you found that you didn’t care in the slightest. If anything, it added to the intimacy of the moment, the rawness of it, making you feel closer to him than you ever thought possible.

His touch was slow, deliberate, almost as if he was savoring every moment, every reaction he elicited from you. His fingers brushed over your skin, exploring you with curiosity and desire, as if he was trying to learn every detail, every response, to what he was doing. When his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, you couldn’t suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips, your body arching towards him instinctively, craving more of his touch.

“Spencer…” you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but filled with so much emotion that it felt like a confession. There was something in his name, in the way it rolled off your tongue, that made the moment feel even more intimate, more real. It wasn’t just a name anymore—it was a declaration, an acknowledgment of what was happening between you, of the connection that was quickly forming.

Spencer’s eyes flicked back up to yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. There was something almost primal in the way he looked at you now, a hunger that was barely restrained, but also a tenderness that made your chest tighten with emotion. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this… how long I’ve wanted you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the sheer weight of them. It wasn’t just lust in his voice—it was something deeper, something that made you feel cherished, desired in a way that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The realization that Spencer had been holding back, that he had wanted you for so long, made your heart swell with emotion, your need for him growing even stronger.

He kissed you again, his lips capturing yours in a way that was both gentle and demanding, his hands continuing their exploration of your body. Each touch, each caress, was filled with passion and care, as if he was trying to show you just how much you meant to him without needing to say the words. And with every kiss, every brush of his fingertips, you found yourself falling deeper into the moment, your own desire for him becoming overwhelming.

You reached up, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel the heat of his body against yours. The way he responded, the way his hands gripped you tighter, as if afraid to let go, made it clear that he was just as lost in the moment as you were. There was no more hesitation, no more awkwardness—just the two of you, finally giving in to the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

Spencer’s hands were warm against your skin as he gently laid you back on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he hovered above you. The intensity in his gaze was almost overwhelming, his pupils blown wide with desire, but there was something else there too—curiosity, maybe even a hint of vulnerability. His fingers trailed down your sides, the touch sending shivers through your body as he slowly leaned in, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your chest.

“Tell me, Y/N…” His voice was a low murmur, filled with an edge of something deeper, as he kissed his way down your chest, taking his time, savoring the feel of your skin beneath his lips. “Did you think about me too?”

The question hung in the air, making your breath hitch as you squirmed beneath him, the sensation of his kisses igniting a fire deep within you. Your mind was spinning, every nerve in your body on high alert as you felt his breath ghost over your skin, his lips moving lower, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

“I did,” you admitted, your voice a little breathless as the confession slipped out. It was the truth, after all—you had thought about him, more than you ever wanted to admit. The idea of Spencer, sweet, awkward Spencer, being the one to push you to this point had always been a secret fantasy, buried deep within you. But now, with him here, in this moment, it was no longer just a fantasy—it was real.

Spencer’s lips curved into a smirk against your skin as he reached your hip, his teeth nipping playfully at the delicate flesh, making you gasp. The sensation was a mix of pleasure and surprise, and you couldn’t help but arch your back slightly in response. His hands moved to your shorts, his fingers hooking into the waistband as he tugged them down slowly, teasingly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he did.

“That text wasn’t for me though, was it?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he watched your reaction. The smirk on his face was something you’d never seen before—confident, almost cocky, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.

You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as the realization hit you. You hadn’t expected him to catch on to that detail, but of course he had—Spencer was nothing if not observant. The thought that he knew the text wasn’t meant for him, but was still here, still wanting you, made your pulse quicken even more.

“Uh, no, it wasn’t,” you admitted with a whine, the words slipping out before you could stop them. There was no point in lying—not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze full of heat and understanding. “But I’m glad I sent it to you,” you added quickly, your voice filled with sincerity and a hint of desperation.

Spencer’s smirk softened into a small, almost tender smile as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your navel. “Maybe your subconscious wanted you to,” he suggested, his voice low and smooth, each word making your head spin. The idea made you dizzy, the thought that some part of you had always wanted this, had always wanted him, even if you hadn’t fully realized it until now.

“Uh huh,” you breathed out, your voice floaty and airy, your mind clouded with desire. The sensation of his lips on your skin, his hands on your body, was intoxicating, making it hard to think clearly. All you could focus on was the way he made you feel—alive, wanted, and completely lost in the moment.

Spencer’s fingers continued to work on removing your shorts, sliding them down your legs with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something almost worshipful in the way he touched you, as if he was savoring every second, every inch of skin he revealed.

As he finally discarded your shorts, leaving you completely exposed to him, he took a moment to just look at you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and admiration. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned in to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

The words made your heart swell, a wave of warmth washing over you as you reached out, your fingers tangling in his hair. There was nothing left to hide now, nothing left to hold back. This was exactly where you wanted to be—where you were meant to be.

“Do you always skip out on bras and panties, Y/N?” Spencer’s teasing comment sent a ripple of laughter through you, the sound mingling with the rapid beat of your heart. The playful banter between you only intensified the electric connection that was already sparking between you both. His bite on your inner thigh was both a tease and a promise, igniting a fire that made every nerve in your body come alive.

“N–no, only at home,” you managed to scream out, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The combination of his touch and the vulnerability of the moment made it impossible to hold back any longer.

He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, echoing softly in the room as his fingers continued to explore your skin. “But you didn’t put any on before coming over?” His tone was light, yet there was an undeniable edge of desire that underpinned his words.

You took a moment to catch your breath, the playful challenge in his eyes urging you to respond. “Are you–are you complaining?” you asked, your voice wavering between breathless laughter and the growing urgency of your emotions.

Spencer shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Not at all, although–” His sentence was cut short as your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him fully into you. The sudden, decisive movement left no room for hesitation, and the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, entwined in each other’s embrace.

“Oh my god, Spencer, just shut up,” you laughed, the sound filled with a mixture of amusement and desire. “Put your mouth to use.”

His response was immediate, his lips finding your core with a fervor that matched the intensity of your own longing. The way he ate you out was everything you had been waiting for—passionate, deep, and downright filthy. His hands left their place on your thighs, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence that made you feel both cherished and desired.

As he sunk his mouth deeper, sucking your clit into his mouth, Spencer guided you gently but firmly onto the bed, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the heat that radiated between you.

“Spencer,” you moaned, the name slipping out like a sacred vow, sealing the moment between you. His response was a dirty smile, his mouth shining with your juices, making your pulse throb.

He paused for a moment, just enough to look into your eyes, “You’re fucking delicious,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”

As Spencer’s mouth continued to work its magic on your core, a whirlwind of sensations overwhelmed you. Each touch, each stroke of his tongue, sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything but the intense feeling of being completely consumed by him. The way he moved, so skilled yet so attentive to your every reaction, left you breathless, your hands clutching at the sheets as your head swam in a sea of ecstasy.

But amidst the pleasure, a fleeting thought crossed your mind—how close you had come to letting this moment, this incredible opportunity, slip through your fingers. You couldn’t believe that you had almost dismissed the idea of responding to his bold text, that you had almost let fear and hesitation keep you from experiencing this side of Spencer. A side that was confident, passionate, and utterly devoted to your pleasure.

How could you have been so close to missing out on this? On him? Spencer, who had always been there, quiet and thoughtful, had somehow managed to unlock a part of you that you hadn’t even known existed—a part that craved the connection and intimacy he was now offering with every caress of his lips.

You let out a soft moan, your hips arching towards him as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. The sounds you made only seemed to spur him on, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulled you closer, his tongue working with a precision that left you teetering on the edge. Every nerve in your body was alive, the world narrowing down to the feel of his mouth on you, the heat of his breath against your skin.

“Spencer,” you gasped out, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. It wasn’t just the pleasure he was giving you—it was the realization that this was Spencer, the man you had known for so long, who was now showing you a depth of care and passion that you had never imagined.

The way he responded to your every movement, the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed, made you feel cherished in a way that went far beyond the physical. It was as if he was attuned to your very soul, using his touch to communicate something deeper, something that had been building between you for far longer than either of you had realized.

As you felt the tension within you coil tighter and tighter, ready to snap, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easily you had fallen into this moment with him. All the hesitation, the uncertainty, had melted away, leaving only the pure, unfiltered connection between you and Spencer. A connection that had been there all along, waiting for the right moment to be brought to life.

And now that it had, you knew you could never go back to the way things were. Spencer had opened a door to something new, something beautiful, and you were ready to step through it with him, no matter what the future held.

With a final, skillful flick of his tongue over your clit, Spencer sent you tumbling over the edge, your body trembling with the force of your release. The world around you seemed to dissolve into a haze of pleasure and warmth, your mind barely able to process the overwhelming sensations that flooded through you.

As you came down from the high, Spencer’s hands and mouth softened, his touch becoming gentle, almost reverent, as he coaxed you through the aftershocks. When he finally pulled back, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with a sincerity that left no doubt about how much this moment meant to him. He crawled up the bed to join you, his body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in a slow, languid kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips.

You smiled against his lips, a sense of contentment and excitement washing over you as you whispered, “I’m glad I’m here too, Spencer. So glad.”

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[corameiwrites]

𖦹 searching for love 𖦹

pair: jason todd x gn!reader

plot: your shift at a small bookstore is about to end when a handsome stranger walks in five minutes before closing

wc: 2k

pt. 2

A far off chime sounded from the old grandfather clock, signaling the passing of another half hour. That meant it was 8:30, and more officially, 30 minutes past closing time. Normally, you would have been packed up and locking the door by 7:58, eager to get home to your grouchy cat, messy room, and half-written research paper. There was nothing normal, however, about the six-foot something man with biceps the size of your head, meticulously browsing the shelves of your bookstore. 

Well, not yours, but the number of shifts you picked up having to pay the bills for your not-so-cheap Gotham apartment had basically made this place your second home.

So when the very fit and handsome stranger walked in a mere five minutes to closing, you lingered a little. Behind the counter at the front of the store, of course. It was far too scary to go and ask him if he needed help—you would run the risk of embarrassing yourself further. 

Earlier, when he had entered, you made the mistake of welcoming him with a rushed “Good Morning” despite the full moon visible through the store windows. He had glanced in your direction, nodded, and walked further into the store, going to start his long search of whatever it was he came here to look for. 

Which, by the looks of it, he found. 

He set the books down near you, looking at an assortment of random trinkets and bookmarks displayed on the counter. 

You smile, recognizing the titles. “Are you a fan of Austen?” 

His head sprung up as though he hadn’t been expecting you to speak to him. “Uh, yeah. Used to read some of her stuff when I was younger. Thought I’d pick them up again.” 

“Ah, I see. Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorites.” Looking up the titles on the rather out-dated computer, you ring them up on the register. 

“Then I’ll be sure to read it first.”  The corners of his mouth twitch up in a semi-smile as his hands retreat into his leather pockets. An odd choice to zip a leather jacket all the way to his chin, but who are you to judge? It's only now you're looking that you notice the scars littered across his face, as well as the few wisps of stark white hair across his forehead. You look down into his eyes, and though it was only a fleeting moment of prolonged eye-contact, it made you feel far too vulnerable.

 Looking away and vaguely remembering some staff meeting about professionalism, you read the total amount due to him. “Cash or card?”

“Uh–cash.” His face blanks, and he blinks twice before digging through his pockets. His brows furrow. “Sorry, I…” his hands pat down his cargo pants before his shoulders slump. His face turns to one of slight annoyance. “I lost my wallet.”

“Oh.” Frankly, you don’t know what to do in this situation, and by the looks of it, neither does he. It's a little awkward—do you suggest he trace his steps? Call the bank to pause all his cards? But he’s paying in cash. Oh god, a thought crosses your mind. Is he a criminal? Fortunately, your mouth speaks before you even process what's coming out of it. “I could…put these on hold for you, if you want?” 

He runs a hand through his hair, and it's embarrassing the way your eyes track the movement. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother. It's my fault, anyways.” 

“It’s not a bother, it happens to the best of us,” leaning over the counter, you point to a small poster with store hours. “I work tomorrow and Wednesday until closing if you want to come in around this same time, but I could tell my other coworkers of the situation if you come in a different day or time.” 

Silently, he stares at the poster. You recline back to your standing position, mentally slapping yourself for sharing your work schedule with a complete stranger who could very well be a criminal. A hot criminal. 

“...You close at eight?” 

“Yes sir, every day except for Sundays.” Thank you for finally showing up, customer service voice. He frowns, lifting his arm and pushing the sleeve of his leather jacket up before looking at you in shock. 

“You're closed right now?” he asked, though it sounded more like a state of a fact. 

You start to fidget with your clothes. “Technically speaking, yes.” 

His hand flies to his face, semi-face palming. “Shit,” he starts to back away slowly towards the door. “I am so sorry, I didn’t know.” 

You smile at his panic, feeling a little amused despite yourself. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” 

“No, it's horrible, I’m horrible.” You can’t help but let out a small chuckle at his apologetic demeanor. By now he's halfway out the door, but turns back at your laugh.

“Trust me, it’s completely fine. I’ll keep these,” you lift up Pride & Prejudice, “behind the counter. Good luck finding your wallet!” 

To that he nods, leaving and walking down the sidewalk in a rush. You stand for a minute, replaying the strange yet exciting interaction, hoping that the man would come again to claim his books. 

You were absolutely going to text your best friend about this when you got home. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩  ♥  ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

Jason Todd had lost track of time. Maybe it was the warm lighting that made the strain on his eyes decrease, or the soft music soothing his aching head, or the various earth-tone decorations that made him stay longer than he intended. He had only meant to hide for a couple minutes, enough to get Condiment King off his trail and onto Tims. That was until he spotted Pride & Prejudice on a shelf with the exact cover of the one he read in Bruce's library when he was younger. Blaming it on nostalgia, he picked it up, and before long the quaint bookstore became less of a hideout and more of an actual store. 

In all honesty, he could have spent the rest of his patrol in the place if not for an angry text from Tim cursing him out; something about going MIA and getting the mustard and ketchup smell out of his suit. Snapped back into reality, he found himself with a rather large amount of books he definitely couldn’t fit into his motorcycle bag. 

Through little internal debate, he lowered the amount to three books, Pride & Prejudice, 1984, and This Is It, chastising himself as he made his way to the front. It was reckless spending so long hiding when he was supposed to be out on patrol. Hell, his helmet and guns were thrown behind a dumpster in an alleyway down the street! For all he knew, they could be stolen and pawned by some homeless person. 

But there was just something about this store and its ability to make him lose track of time. 

He hurried to the register, glancing at the super-hero themed erasers. He spotted some of his family's personas, grimacing inwardly. Ever since coming back to Gotham, they had been pestering him to join them at the manor outside of vigilante duties. Personally, he would rather be shot ten times before–

“Are you a fan of Austen?” 

He looked up, a little spooked. Did he totally forget that there was another person here, working? Maybe. Scrambling his head for a response proved a daunting task, and that smile you were giving him wasn’t helping. “Uh, yeah. Used to read some of her stuff when I was younger. Thought I’d pick them up again.”

“Ah, I see. Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorites.” You looked through the books, ringing them up on your computer. You seemed almost pleased with his choice in literature. 

“Then I’ll be sure to read it first.” That knowledge, for some reason, makes him happy. From what he remembers, he also enjoyed the tale of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy when he was younger. 

He put his hands in his jacket pockets, slouching a little more than usual as he studied your clothing and your face. You were young, probably around his age and good looking, working at a bookstore; definitely not anyone dangerous. He knew his height and build tended to intimidate people, and despite its uses when he wore the mask, off-duty he rather disliked it. He didn’t look kind or soft the way you did. Conscious of his build and the darkness outside, he did what he could to hopefully put you at ease. 

You turn back to the register, clicking a few buttons. “That’ll be $14.33.” you look back up at him. “Cash or card?”

“Uh–cash.” Legally, he couldn’t use cards since he was supposed to be six-feet under. He moved his hands around in their pockets, trying to find his wallet. “Sorry, I…” Patting down his pants, he inwardly groans, remembering leaving his wallet in his safehouse of the week before going out for patrol. “I lost my wallet.” 

“Oh.” Yeah, he's a dumbass. “I could…put these on hold for you, if you want?” Your voice is hesitant and he swears on everything he will always check if he has money in his pockets before entering another establishment ever again. 

Running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he picked up on, he waves you off. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother. It's my fault, anyways.” 

“It’s not a bother, it happens to the best of us,” leaning over the counter, you point to a small poster with store hours. You're still talking to him, but he looks at your face, noticing small details he hadn’t before, like the unique slope of your nose, the shade of your lips and how delicately your lashes fall over your eyes. When you stop talking, he averts his gaze at what you pointed to. 

“Open Mon.---Fri. 10 A.M. to 8 P.M., Sat.---Sun. 12 P.M. to 5 P.M.” He reads it again, trying to remember the day. Damian wasn’t on patrol, so it was a weekday. “Open Mon.---Fri. 10 A.M. to 8 P.M.” He rereads it once more in confusion. Given the darkness outside, there's no way it wasn’t past eight already. 

“...You close at eight?” he hesitantly asks. 

“Yes sir, every day except for Sundays.” If you were closer, he probably would have teased you about the customer service voice. He checks his watch. His whole body freezes as he reads the time. 

8:34

His head whips to you in confusion. “You're closed right now?”

“Technically speaking, yes.” You seem almost bashful as you answer.

Instant mortification fills his body, and he could hit himself for what he’s done. Not only did he unintentionally skimp out on patrol with Tim in a bookstore, potentially scaring the innocent and hot worker, but he wasted that workers time by wandering around for thirty fucking minutes past closing.  He starts to leave, apologizing to you, and despite your assurances, he can’t bring himself to face you knowing he’s kept you working later than you should. He's halfway out the door when he hears you laugh, and he momentarily pauses, turning halfway to face you. 

You’re smiling.

“Trust me, it’s completely fine. I’ll keep these,” you lift up a book, waving it at him, “behind the counter. Good luck finding your wallet!” 

His throat seems to close up, and whether it's from embarrassment or that smile, he can’t tell. Nodding, he quickly leaves the store, walking in long strides back to his gear. Guilt, shame, and confusion all pile up inside him as he puts on his thigh straps, holstering the guns he put a little more care into hiding. Zipping down his leather jacket, he puts his helmet on, which immediately reconnects to his line with Red Robin. He's met with instant accusations and threats. 

“Wait for me down Fourth and Main, I’ll be there at nine.” He murmurs quickly, grappling to the top of the nearest building before disconnecting from the line. He perches over the edge, watching the lights in the bookstore shut off before you run out, closing and locking the door.

He takes extra care to keep himself hidden from your sight, ducking behind various rooftop structures and grappling to different buildings, silently protecting your late walk home. It’s only when you’ve entered your building and he sees a corner apartment window light up that he leaves. 

He’ll return to that bookstore tomorrow.

[colossrat]

A magical artifact has entered the borders of Gotham and due to some circumstances, tha Bat calls Captain Marvel to help him intercept the cargo being received.

However, things don't go as planned, and in a moment of distraction they get separated, and the captain ends up being hit by a spell from the cursed artifact. He manages to hold out a little before the worst happens, retrieving the object and entering a portal to the rock of eternity.

The spell ends up separating Captain Marvel from his champion, Billy Batson.

But instead of having a little billy and a big marvel, we have a little billy and an even smaller marvel

Although the powers passed down by Marvel are older than Earth, he is "reborn" every time he has a new champion to accompany him. So that he can always be connected with this new champion and so that he doesn't feel alone in the hard journey of being the champion of magic.

This means that theoretically, our Marvel was reborn less than five years ago-- (Although he still has the memory of the old champions, he is growing up again with Billy, and so he is just a very mature child for his age, but still a child)

During the separation, Billy ended up getting hurt and Marvel panics because he doesn't know how to help. Without billy to balance your magic, it's very risky to do any spells, even something as simple as healing.

He is a water tank full of magic, and the champion serves as the tap to decide how much magic is released.

As they are on the rock, time doesn't pass normally so Billy doesn't pay much attention to that injury, saying that it would take months inside the rock for them to need to worry.

They stay there for some time, researching the artifact and its curse. The wizard gave some answers, but it is still too vague to satisfy Billy and Marvel's curiosity

Eventually they need to get off the rock, as Billy is worried about Fawcett without his hero. But outside of the temporal suspension that the rock provides, Billy's injury begins to worsen rapidly and they have to change plans to get help.

That doesn't go the way they wanted either, and they end up having to resort to something Billy really wanted to avoid: The Justice League.

Marvel refuses to speak to the league, being inconsolable because Billy is in pain. He demands that they take care of him and they do, shocked by the little crying marvel.

The league comes to the conclusion that since Billy was the first person Marvel probably saw after being transformed into a child, and he is the one who has been taking care of him in the last days, he must have had some kind of imprint on him and is seeing him as a safe haven.

At the watchtower, the league now has to deal with the situation of a completely shy little Marvel who just wants to interact with Billy, a homeless boy they've never heard of before. who is this boy???

While the magicians are racking their brains trying to understand the situation and how to reverse it, the heroes are trying to understand their fellow coworker child, very worried about the emotional dependence he is developing on Billy.

While recovering, Billy starts planning their escape from the Watchtower, but it sucks when the league babysits them both and forces them to go to therapy

It's a fanfic I'm writing--

[ang3ltine]

𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬 - ft Se mi x wife reader

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: A cute little headcanon of what domestic life with Se mi as your partner would be like ♡

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: suggestive themes, but that's pretty much it

☆After getting married, Se mi was the one who suggested that you two should buy an apartment instead of renting to save money, so that's exactly what you did.

☆ It took some time, but you two finally bought your dream apartment with a cute private rooftop that has a nice view of the city.

☆ Let's just pretend in this universe, Se mi didn't have to join the games and isn't in dept. In this case, you guys would be pretty well off. I feel like Se mi would be an amazing partner and very supportive of you and your decisions!

☆ Se mi is a tattoo artist while you worked at a boutique that you own. You both take turns to see each other during break since you two worked close by. Your coworkers definitely envied you whenever Se mi came over to the boutique to see you xd

☆ Whenever it's someone's turn to cook, someone else has to clean the dishes after. That's the only rule in the household. Also you two take turns on cooking depending on the rota you guys make for the week.

☆ Honestly Se mi looks so good with just a plain white long sleeve top that she has rolled up above her elbows. While her sweatpants sits low on her hips and her dark hair sticks to her forehead due to the steam from the pot. It's such a turn on but you'd never admit that to her.

"Hm? What're you staring at babe?" Se mi smirked slightly as she felt your burning eyes from behind.

"Uhmm nothing...? Just admiring the view, hehe."

☆ Yall definitely got a black cat from an adoption centre nearby and named her Boo. She's super playful, just like Se mi! You were honestly surprised as to how similar the two were. But you're not one to complain.

☆ Se mi is surprisngly super clingy at home, even though she acts all cool she's a softie inside. Absolutely loves cuddling on the sofa or in bed and can never keep her hands to herself.

☆ Expect makeout sessions on the kitchen counter top or have lazy morning intimacy in bed and Se mi won't let you leave unless you protest alot.

"Can we please stop now..?"

You huffed as you weakly tried pushing your lover off your body who had you trapped beneath her. Not having enough strength due to the sheer amount of pleasure you had been receiving from her.

"Uh uh, not yet Sweets, we're only getting started"

☆ Se mi doesn't mind you bringing friends over, even if they're guys. However, if she sees a guy who clearly knows you're in a relationship try and make advances on you then she'll step in. She trusts you completely, but not the sleeze bag. Don't expect him to leave without a bruise or two, depending on how persistent he was.

☆ It's normal for couples to fight in a relationship but you two don't do it often. Whenever you do, Se mi does everything she can to apologise, however, if you're in the wrong she'll point it out without making the situation worse. Will comfort you after if you're upset and take you out on a date to cheer you up.

☆ Date nights are the best as you guys are often busy throughout the day. Sometimes you'd hang out in the nearby park or go to the convenience store and just catchup. Or you'd have a movie marathon where you'd cuddle on the couch, sometimes leading to more if you're in the mood.

☆ Bathtime/showers with Se mi are often calm and relaxing. If she was feeling playful then she'd have you writhing under her touch, either from a tickle attack or coming on her fingers.

☆ Like I mentioned before, both of you would definitely collect figurines, so you two definitely go to popmart together! She likes Hirono and Kubo, whereas you liked Skullpanda and Molly figurines. You'd decorate your room with showcases and get matching labubus together!!

☆ You guys are decent neighbours, and everyone seems to love you two! There weren't any complaints from them as you two are respectful and try to keep the noise down when listening to music late at night.

☆ Se mi would definitely be the one to give you the most gifts/presents whenever she has the chance to. Especially bouquets, each would be different every time but they'd be your favourite. Of course, she'd be super grateful if you did the same!

☆ Overall domestic life with Se mi would be full of surprises and she's the best partner you could ever ask for!! ♡♡

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

so yandere young justice (platonic if possible if not then normal yandere will do) x reader with very strong psycick powers and has to keep their emotions in check but to do so they act cold and thus treets and thinks of the team as coworkers like the ones that you do not like, (cuz reader is only on the team so the JL wont constantly bother them) now I want the team to think reader is a piece of shit in the start but then they witness reader showing kindness to a kid controled genlte kindness, now young justice will think why do they not get this kindness why does reader hate us why why WHY, and thus an obbsession would form and eventually delousion with the memory of reader helping the kid being twisted into reader helping them showing that gentle kindness that they oh so wish to have.

(That became a ramble but I think there Are 3 patos we can go for why the JL bothers reader here, A the JL Are becoming yandere for reader, B reader is so powerful that they could easily pull mountains out off the ground, rip giant ships out of space or rip it spart in space (this reader is very inspired by star killer from starwars) or option C its a combo of the 2 previously mentioned.)

Yandere young Justice x reader

The day you joined Young Justice was a day that would forever be etched into their minds, though not for reasons anyone could have anticipated. You stood before them with an expression so blank and emotionless it felt like you were looking through them, not at them, as though they were mere shadows rather than people. Your tone, flat and detached, set the stage for what would come to define your presence among them.

“I’m not here to be your friend,” you said, voice calm but cutting, each word sharp enough to slice through the fragile threads of camaraderie they’d hoped to extend. “I didn’t choose to be here, and I don’t want to be here. This is strictly business.”

The room had fallen into a stunned silence, the team exchanging glances filled with confusion, irritation, and a faint flicker of disbelief. Wally, never one to keep his opinions to himself, had scoffed loudly and leaned back in his chair, the movement exaggerated as though he needed everyone to see just how unimpressed he was.

“Well, that’s one way to introduce yourself,” he said with a roll of his eyes so dramatic it could’ve been mistaken for an acrobatic stunt.

Artemis, who was never far behind when it came to expressing her disdain, crossed her arms and gave you a once-over that screamed skepticism. “Let me guess,” she said with a sneer. “You’re one of those people who thinks teamwork is for suckers, right?”

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t react at all. Instead, you regarded her with the same detached indifference you seemed to have for everything around you. “I’m here to complete missions,” you said simply. “Whether you like me or not doesn’t matter. Just stay out of my way.”

If you had thrown a punch, it would’ve landed softer than your words. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to choke on, and though no one said it outright, the unspoken consensus was clear: they didn’t like you, and they didn’t trust you.

But that suited you just fine.

From the very beginning, you were an enigma wrapped in steel.

Mission after mission, you fulfilled your role with precision and efficiency that bordered on inhuman. Where others might falter or hesitate, you moved with unwavering confidence, your psychic abilities tearing through obstacles like they were made of paper. You were power personified, a force of nature contained within a vessel that seemed utterly devoid of humanity.

It wasn’t that you were incompetent—far from it. Your skills on the battlefield were unmatched, and your ability to assess a situation with cold, calculating precision often meant the difference between success and failure. But outside the chaos of combat, you were a ghost. You spoke only when absolutely necessary, offering clipped, impersonal responses that left no room for connection or understanding.

It didn’t take long for the resentment to set in.

“Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?” Robin had snapped one evening after a particularly grueling mission, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. His mask couldn’t quite hide the anger burning in his eyes as he stepped closer, his frustration practically radiating off him in waves.

You had barely spared him a glance, your tone as indifferent as ever. “I did what needed to be done,” you said simply, as though the conversation bored you.

“Yeah, and you ignored the rest of us while you did it!” Wally interjected, his voice rising in pitch as his frustration spilled over. “It’s like you don’t even care if we live or die, as long as the mission gets done!”

For a brief moment, your gaze flicked between the two of them, your expression unreadable. Then, with a shrug that spoke volumes about how little their opinions mattered to you, you turned and began walking away. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

Your words left them seething, but they didn’t follow. They couldn’t.

Because deep down, they knew they wouldn’t get through to you.

In truth, their accusations weren’t entirely wrong. You didn’t care—not about their opinions, their feelings, or their endless attempts to drag you into conversations that didn’t concern you. You didn’t care because caring was dangerous.

Your power wasn’t just a gift; it was a burden, a constant weight pressing down on you with an intensity that would’ve crushed anyone weaker. Every emotion, every flicker of feeling, threatened to unravel the fragile control you’d built over the years. A single moment of anger could rip a building from its foundation, a fleeting surge of fear could crush the air from someone’s lungs, and a whisper of sorrow could unleash a psychic storm capable of leveling a city.

So you didn’t allow yourself to feel.

You buried your emotions beneath layers of apathy and detachment, locking them away where they couldn’t hurt anyone. It was easier that way. Safer.

But the team didn’t understand. They couldn’t.

And so, they labeled you as cold, unfeeling, and selfish.

You didn’t correct them.

Everything changed during the mission in Qurac.

The objective had been straightforward: neutralize the alien technology that had been manipulating a local village into violent hostility. The team worked as a unit, moving through the conflict with practiced efficiency, their movements honed by months of training and experience.

You stayed on the outskirts, your psychic energy swirling around you in a tangible aura of power that seemed almost alive. You tore through the enemy with ease, dismantling their defenses like a child breaking apart toys.

But then, amid the chaos, you found him.

A boy, no older than five, huddled beneath a crumbling pile of rubble. His body shook with silent sobs, his tiny hands clutching a broken toy as though it were the only thing anchoring him to the world.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you hesitated.

Slowly, you knelt before him, your movements deliberate and measured, as though afraid any sudden motion might scare him further. “It’s okay,” you said softly, your voice a gentle whisper that barely carried over the noise around you. “You’re safe now.”

The boy looked up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes, his small frame trembling as he clung to the remnants of his shattered world. Carefully, you extended a hand, your psychic energy weaving around him in a protective cocoon that shielded him from the chaos.

“I won’t hurt you,” you promised, your tone softer than anyone had ever heard it.

The boy hesitated for only a moment before reaching for you, his tiny fingers wrapping around yours with a trust that made something in your chest tighten. As you lifted him into your arms, your energy wrapped around him like a blanket, cradling him with a tenderness that felt foreign yet instinctive.

“It’s going to be alright,” you murmured, holding him close.

You didn’t notice the team watching.

They couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The image of you holding that boy, your voice filled with a kindness they’d never heard before, played over and over in their minds like a loop they couldn’t escape. It was so unlike the version of you they thought they knew, so completely at odds with the cold, detached figure who treated them like insignificant coworkers.

For Wally, it became an obsession. He replayed the memory in his mind constantly, dissecting every word, every gesture, every flicker of emotion. He wanted—no, needed—to see that side of you again. But this time, he wanted it for himself.

M’gann’s thoughts took a different path, though no less consuming. She convinced herself that the kindness you’d shown wasn’t an anomaly but a glimpse of your true self, buried beneath layers of pain and fear. “You do care,” she whispered to herself, clinging to the thought as though it were a lifeline. “You just don’t know how to show it.”

Even Robin, the logical and analytical one, found himself unraveling. He began watching you more closely, searching for cracks in the facade you’d built around yourself, desperate for another glimpse of the humanity he now believed was hidden beneath.

They all wanted the same thing: you.

And as their obsession grew, so too did their desperation.

(A/n: it's lacking smth idk what but I tried making it platonic but I think I went overboard and kind made it into romantic??? Please Tell me if I did and be honest 🙏🙏)

––TAGLIST!

@maicenitas

[profilerclra]

You're just a little bit too much like me | Spencer Reid x Reader

Enemies to lovers | angsty fluff

Word count: 1755

Warnings: Normal criminal minds type of violence, mention of guns and gunshots, age gap (Reader is about 25, and Spencer is in his late 30s)

Content: Spencer being an asshole because he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings and how you remind him of his older self, past Spencer trauma (implied but not directly mentioned), self-doubt, Post prison! Spence

It was a difficult situation, only your second week on the job and the first time you had to make that kind of decision. You went alone to a location where the suspect might have been at, all of your teammates were further away so, as reckless as you now recognize it was, you went there alone, instead of waiting like Spencer and Emily asked you too. You didn't want to lose your chance, there were more than 3 days on the field at stake here, you did not want to disappoint your colleagues and just stand there waiting like a dumb newbie, so you made the decision.

“I'm going in” You warn your teammates in the radio, not waiting for a response before storming into the unsubs house.

You bust the door open with your feet, storming into the house. As you look inside, you find the unsub taking his gun from a drawer. Thinking you had an advantage as his back was facing you, you rush to try and immobilize him, but somehow he managed to turn around and shoot you.

You growled in pain as your body dropped to the ground, just before you passed out completely you heard the sound of rushed footsteps. You heard two voices, one you recognized as Emily's going after the unsub, and the other as Reid's talking to you.

“Please don’t go to sleep, we need you awake” His voice was soothing, far different from the tone he always used with you ever since you joined the team this year, but he sounded so worried, and you really did try to stay awake for him, for your team, to show that you were okay and that they needed to go after what's important, the unsub, but you couldn't. The last thing you heard as your vision got black was him yelling at his radio, “Medical, we need medical right now”. And then, everything went black.

You are now back at your first day on the job. Still at your house, confused as to what outfit you should use, so anxious about being so young at the top team of profilers, even thought it was a last year internship you hoped to impress them enough that they would hire you officially for the team, so your anxiety was through the roof wondering whether you really deserved to be there (goddamn that impostor syndrome). But most of your worries went away when you met the team, you would never imagine that the best profilers in the FBI and maybe in the world would be such good, kind and even funny people. They all welcomed you, seeming excited to be able to work with you, except from one of them.

Doctor Spencer Reid, you had read about him and his genius mind, you even went to a couple of his lectures on forensic psychology, honestly? You were a fan, and you were so excited to meet and work with someone you looked up to. Unfortunately, he didn't seem as eager to meet his new coworker. He just stood there in the back, staring at you while you introduced yourself to the team, the most he did was mutter a “morning” when you sat next to him in the briefing room.

Never meet your heroes, they say.

Now, you're back at… Where are you again?

Your eyes begin to open, you're completely adrift until you finally begin to recognize the awful white light, and the coldness of the room. You're at the hospital, no idea as to how much time has passed.

Jennifer comes into your line of vision, holding your hand, “Hey, how are you feeling?” her voice is calm, as she watches you sit up in the hospital bed.

“I'm fine, I think... I didn't even realize what happened back then. Oh shit, did you guys catch him?” You abruptly try to sit up, remembering how you couldn't get the unsub when you got shot, guilt washing over you as you started to piece together what happened

“Hey slow down, Emily went after him and made the arrest, the victim was rescued. He shot you, but it just grazed you. You did lose a lot of blood, that's why you passed out, but the doctors say you'll be fine to leave today. Don't worry.” She says as the doctor comes in to do his final checking.

You just agree with your head, lost in your own thoughts. You knew it wasn't your fault that you got shot, but still you felt so stupid. The hurt of not being able to catch the unsub might've been even bigger than the one from your wound, all of them had been in even more difficult situations than you and made it out without so much as a scratch, and you couldn't even catch an unsub that was alone?

After a few hours, you were back on the jet, finally heading home. The guilty was still bothering you, and you even apologized for the mistake. Hotch just asked you to be more careful and follow instructions next time, but overall, the team seemed genuinely happy you were fine. Except, of course, for Spencer, who ever since you got in the jet was staring daggers at you.

Later, the jet finally landed, and you were eager to get home. You quickly went to the office to get a few of your things, Unfortunately, you and Spencer were now all alone in an uncomfortable silence waiting for the elevator.

“That was reckless” Spencer mutters under his breath

“I'm sorry, what?” You turn in your heels to face him, had you heard that right? Is that the first thing he's going to tell you after you just got shot?

“What you did on the case, was reckless and naive. You should've followed our instructions, you can't just do what you feel like doing” he's looking in your eye now, his voice coming out angry but with a hint of… worry?

“I'm sorry ok? I tried to do something, I just did not want to just stay there waiting while he could be doing god knows what inside that house” Your voice comes out more shaky than you wanted it to, the weight of the guilt pressing into your chest

“Still, it was reckless and stupid, you should never just storm into, alone, a place where an unsub might be, you never know what he might do to you, what might be waiting inside.” His gaze is cold, almost as if he's not actually here talking to you, but somewhere inside his head and his memories.

“Trust me, I know that. I regret my decision, but I wasn't doing what I felt like, I tried my best, Reid.” You turn to look directly in his eye. Yes you did something wrong, but you wouldn't let him out of all people talk like that to you “I might be the youngest on the team, the one with less experience but trust me… I'm not dumb, I earned my place here.” Your voice shaky when you said that last sentence, the insecurity you felt showing through your words.

Something in his gaze shifted after that, his expression became softer, almost sympathetic. “Listen, I'm not saying you're not qualified, I'm sorry if it came off like that, just be careful… That could have ended a lot worse, trust me I know”

“ I will” The air between you two less intimidating now but still heavy with tension, you two step in the elevator, the whole way to the garage an awkward silence until you two finally reach the bullpen's garage.  

Even thought you felt like now maybe he didn't absolutely want you gone from the team, you were still curious as to why he is so cold to you

“Sorry, I need to ask… Why do you hate me?” You turn to him, after finally gathering the courage to ask this question

“What do you mean, don't hate you”

“Yes you do, I mean you're not obligated to like me but since I joined, you didn't even meet me yet and just gave this cold look”

His eyebrows furrowed as he processed your words, clearly taken aback by your directness. He sighed, a hint of regret in his eyes, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's not about you personally," he finally admitted, his voice softer than before.

“What is it about, then?”

He takes a deep breath before starting to talk “You're only 3 years older than me when I joined this team, I know what it does you, to your mind. I guess I just saw way too much of me, of who I used to be, in you, and it terrified me to be honest” His cold facade disappeared completely now, in its place a soft and genuine expression.

“So you were, and I'm sorry for the words, an asshole to me because you were worried?” You almost can't wrap your head around it, all this time you felt like one of your biggest references in the BAU hated you, but instead he was caring for you.

“Yes, I see how it comes out as “asshole” behavior, but my brain just went full shutdown when i saw you” His face turns slightly red when he notices what he just said – Freudian slip or just a bad choice of words? He doesn't's know for sure – His hand goes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck “I mean… for the resemblance, of how I acted when I had just joined, of course”

You give him a small smile, and just like that your side that has been a fan and read all of this man's articles comes back to life “Of course. Thank you for worrying but maybe instead of hating me you could… I don't know, if it's not too much of a bother of course, help me? I value your worries Doc, maybe you could help me not make the same mistakes you did”

He nodded, a hint of relief washing over his features. "I'd be happy to help," he said, a genuine smile finally breaking through. "I might not have all the answers, but I can definitely share what I've learned along the way."

“I'm happy to hear that, thanks, Doc. Reid” You wave at him as you begin walking over to your car.

“Hey, just call me Spencer” He smiles warmly at you

“See you tomorrow Spencer”

[jellicatty]

♯2 ┆ ❝ GROUPIE LOVE ❞ 𝜗𝜚 ᵎᵎ

Their tolerance is quickly crumbling under the weight of your relentless, wicked charm. It’s only a matter of time before their lust spills over. And unfortunately for you, the dam finally breaks during your work shift.

╰┈➤ contains : nanami x beverage cart attendant! female reader x higuruma. no curses au. flirty reader. jealous! nanami. really reaaaally mean higu. THREESOME. public sex. no protection. creampie (yipee). shoko present here. 6k words (it's an easy read trust).

╰┈➤ note : MY HANDS ARE LITERALLY SWEATING PLEASEEE okay wait disclaimer im not a smut writer but i did enjoy writing it hueheu OKAY ENJOY READING MY BFFS ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ (hoping i don't disappoint) (a bit scared).

The harsh rings of the telephone cuts right through Nanami's ears, yet his face remained unresponsive at the sound. It was normal to be surrounded by phone calls, mugs of black coffee, and especially the snores of his coworkers.

A normal day.

Well, not so normal anymore.

From the day he and Higuruma had their eyes on you, life has been something that Nanami looked forward to. It was still riddled by his tiring occupation, but his bi-weekly golf meets with his friend turned his dull life upside down. He might be exaggerating, but that's what a good pussy/ a pretty girl does to him.

"Hey... Why are you looking so dashing all of a sudden, Kento?" His colleague asked from his work cubicle, voice groggy from being woken by his five minute alarm. Although not intending to be rude, Nanami's focus stayed fixed on his screen, typing away whatever he needed to.

"You don't have a girl yet, right?" His co-worker leaned closer to his face, eyes suspecting the blond's hyper-focused gaze. "Right..?"

With a sigh, Nanami answers, "No, I've been playing golf lately." It wasn't a lie but it wasn't the truth either.

"No offense, but Golf? Out of all sports?" Nanami's politeness cracks for a moment, glaring at his colleague at his sudden comment.

"Please, excuse me—"

Ding!

Their eyes lands on Nanami's laptop where the notification sound came from. It wasn't an ad from a random online website or an alarming message, but rather, an anonymous text from Higuruma.

"Higuruma? Is that your girl—"

"Please, excuse me, I need to finish my work." Before his coworker could overstep his boundaries, Nanami quickly cuts them off.

A message from Higuruma at this hour was one of the things he least expected. Not only was he occupied with his work, the two actually never texted each other unless needing assistance and their hangouts. Nanami stared at the screen for a moment, then clicked the notification bar.

“Do you have a moment?” It read. Nanami hesitates to respond when Higuruma’s intention still isn’t clear to him yet. Another message arrives, this time fully capturing his attention.

“It’s about her.”

Afternoon had already approached, yet your body laid on your silk sheets. Realization has not completely settled and a nagging feeling inside you hammered. You were going on a date with a man you met from work. And you might fuck him tonight.

As the seconds pass by, exhilaration pumped in your veins. Weeks were gone with the wind since you had been spontaneously invited by Higuruma. Ever since then, your nights have been spent by scrolling through online stores for dresses— one that's sure to weaken his knees. dresses that can be easily slipped off too

On the other hand, your reality was a nightmare for someone else. And that someone was none other than Ieiri Shoko, your best friend, and fellow beverage cart attendant. If she was ever in your situation, she would have ran to the nearest highway and voluntarily approached a ten wheeler truck— her words, not yours.

"Were you even listening?" Shoko raised her voice, still overshadowed by the loud music from your laptop.

"Can't hear you!" Cautiously, you rolled your hair around the gadget and released it. Roll. Press. Release. Your routine continued while music blasted from your bedazzled speakers. "Or Nah" by The Weeknd and other artists, a filthy song for a filthy woman— or at least, that's what Shoko said.

"Please stop the music, I'm sick of hearing women moaning and bed squeaking every damn minute,"

"Fine, fine!" With a giggle, you lowered the volume, finally lending an ear to Shoko's daily rant. "What were you saying again?"

Shoko rolled her eyes, "Whatever, I said you look fucking delicious" her deadpan evident in her tone, "Oh, I'm flattered!" Roll. Press. Release. And finally, your hair was done and curled to perfection. Your focus shifted to your makeup bags, another battlefield to enter. But this war was a familiar one, and after a short time, your makeup was done to your liking.

While Shoko released her frustrations through rambling, you busied yourself with your reflection, which you had been staring at for a minute now. The sun had set and the familiar orange hues were streaming from your windows when you had finished. Anticipation crept, and once again, you find yourself daydreaming how the next moments will be. You’re planning on ending the night without a surprise, and you're certain you won’t be leaving without a catch too. Will he confess his desires through discrete touches? Does his plan include you being brought to his doorstep? Whatever it is, you were in on it. And for it to happen, you wore a good fucking dress to impress Higuruma.

You walked back to your desk and gave Shoko a clear view of your stunning choice of clothing. The sensual yet formal style of your dress heightened your charm even more. One gaze and a man will wonder what lies beneath it. Hopefully, that man will be Higuruma tonight. And hopefully, he takes notice of your daring move of choosing a backless dress. Back exposed and bare, only welcoming his warm touch.

In a trance, Shoko’s lips shut when you asked her, "So, what's the vibe?"

"Uh, hot vibe?"

"No, silly! Like, is it giving a dinner date with your ex-husband and showing up in a revenge dress to seduce him back? Or, is it giving a first date night with the side chick?"

Her mind stalled for a moment, before replying, "Yeah"

“That was very helpful!” Shoko rolled her eyes at your sarcasm. Your attention was drawn to your phone where a loud ding erupted from. Higuruma’s notification pops, and instantly you were zooming around your room for your final touches. You squealed, earning another annoyed sigh from your friend.

“Toodles, Ieri!” And with that, you closed your gadgets shut, sprayed perfume once more and slipped on your heels. One last look at your reflection, and you were good to go. Each step you took was accompanied by the hammering beats of your heart. Before you open your door, you peeked into its peeping hole. Outside, Higuruma idled by your porch, examining your house while his hands clutched a bouquet. You quietly gasped at his sweet surprise.

Finally ready, you swung the door open, “Nice to see you here, Sir Hiromi,” his name rolled off your tongue with a teasing lilt, one that’s daring him to step an inch inside your home. And he would have, because your appearance for tonight was not something that his control could take.

Higuruma wanted to stop time right there and then, at the exact moment you stepped out of your door with flushed cheeks and a dazzling grin. He wanted to take his time in analyzing every curve and inch of your skin. The rise and fall of your chest, the delicate beauty marks adorning your body, the shine of your lips, and that fucking dress. He was only a man after all, and any man would fall to their knees if they ever were graced with your stunning look tonight.

“Lovely to see you too,” There was a pause in his words, and although his lips were locked, his mind scrambled for the words to say. “Y/N,”

“Yes, Sir Hiromi?”

“Just Hiromi tonight, love.”

“Hiromi,” His name is followed by a giggle.

The man extended his gift to you, “Before we go, I want to give you this.” Immediately, the fresh scent of the hand picked peonies and tulips greeted you. Its vibrant colors matched your dress. Your appreciation fell from your lips, and without wasting any more time, the two of you settled inside his sleek black car.

“You’re comfortable, right?” Higuruma briefly glanced at you, then you replied with a polite smile. You have not even reached your destination yet but you were already drunk. His rich perfume whiffed about in the air, his scent dangerously intoxicating you and fueling your lustful imagination. His choice of clothing was a weapon too; a black tuxedo fitted perfectly on his form. And his nose, how could you ever forget his perfect nose.

Unconsciously, your teeth bit your lip. That damn charm never faded even when he simply drove. Were you reaching your breaking point? Or is it that time of the week again? Whatever, you needed him. The feeling’s mutual though. Higuruma, too, finds you irresistible under the moonlight.

An inner turmoil stirred inside him, though. His hesitance of bringing you to the date gnawed at him gradually. The closer you got, the more he wanted to turn back and drive fast to your house, needing you to be all for himself tonight. But, there’s no turning back now, not when another surprise is already waiting at the venue.

Higuruma sneaked a glance on your exposed thigh.

Christ.

Did you even know the extent of your control over his restless mind? That, just one more word slipping from your mouth would tilt him over to the edge? His composure is unraveling under the force of your mere presence and you’re so blatantly unaware of it. Your blindness to his suffering tethers him even more to you. It’s almost indescribable how badly he wants to put himself under you. under your pussy

God, he thought. May God extend his restraint because another moment alone with you will drain all his control.

Aside from his buzzing train of thoughts, the ride to the restaurant was silent. Nevertheless, your unspoken desires spoke for yourselves. A part of Higuruma was also glad you remained still, for hearing your sweet voice might just be the last push.

After a few grueling minutes of fucking you in his own world, the both of you arrived at your destination. Higuruma swiftly led you to your assigned table, where a surprise caught your breath.

“S-Sir Kento?”

Ah, there you are, Nanami’s object of nightly affection.

And just when you thought your night couldn’t get any better, Nanami sat at the booth. His eyes shifted from the menu to yours, capturing yours with a playful glint. Your grip on your purse tightened as Higuruma walked you to him.

“Thought it would be nice to have him with us.” Higuruma smiles and gestures for you to sit beside him and you excitedly do so. Albeit your visible shyness, you quickly warm up within their presence. And after some greetings, dinner started.

Your attention shifted to Nanami, who appears to be very sophisticated with his suit and tie. Fuck, it’s embarrasing to admit it but these men have outsmarted you, turning the tables and making you their playtoy instead. You’re not letting your hard headed self succumb without a fight of course.

When the food arrived, your plan silently commenced. As you bit your meal, your foot brushed against Nanami’s, earning a warning glance from him. Stubborn, you let your teasing continue. Slowly, you rubbed your heels, tracing lines on his skin that made him tense, before subtly lifting up the ends of his trousers. Nanami decided to clear his throat, as if signaling Higuruma.

“So, what about you, sweets? You can’t be sitting in your room all dolled up everyday.” Higuruma asked, placing his palm on your exposed thigh.

You’re caught speechless, “I…” You looked up at him, wordlessly begging for mercy as his hand went closer to your clothed sex. Nanami played dumb across you, finding amusement at your predicament.

“Oh, me?” You gulped, rushing for a word to say.

“Haha! I’m actually quite uninteresting once you get to know me.” Your laughter failed to cover the rising tension within the room. And just from Nanami’s stifled snicker, you knew you were an idiot for even attempting to play it off.

Higuruma went on, “Seriously? No boyfriend to talk to or anything?” You grew hotter under their intense gazes, grappling at your composure to stay under Higuruma’s taunting moves.

“No.. No boyfriend.”

“You can’t fool adults, angel. A pretty lady like you ought to grab some attention, hm?”

Higuruma squeezes your inner thigh, “A-attention?”

“Yeah, your mini skirts were distracting. Or you don’t know that either?” They’re taunting you and you’re falling for it. Gradually, but surely. They’ve found your weakness, using it to satisfy their need for humiliation; almost like a punishment for teasing them.

“S-skirts…? Oh!” Your sentence is interrupted by Higuruma’s sneaky hand that was now placed before your pussy. Dissatisfied with your limited expression, Higuruma pushed your button by grazing his finger on your nub. And for a moment, your face faltered and a short gasp left your lips.

Your mind screamed at him for his teasing, loathing at his want for humiliating you publicly. Yet, your unbridled hatred for him could not mask your desire. Each glide of his finger against your sex was intoxicating. You never thought he’d crossed the line in a restaurant, surrounded by dining visitors and watched intently by Nanami himself. Dread etched onto your face as you helplessly feel your control entangle itself within Higuruma’s lust, bound by your need for excitement.

You lift your head, facing Higuruma with a newfound courage to endure his seduction.

“Hiromi—”

“Do you need water?,” He began rubbing his index finger on your clit, “You look rather flushed.” You struggled to reply when his movement went faster. Embarrassingly, your pussy welcomed his hand, slick pooling in your panties. You can’t think straight. Not when Higuruma’s fingers are only quickening by every passing second. Or when Nanami’s staring at you with such hunger it’s almost primal.

“Hiromi, It may be beige this time.” Nanami chimed in, seemingly unbothered by the growing tent in his own pants. “Mhm? Oh, I agree with you on that one.”

“W-what are you guys talking ab—”

“It’s just a game me and Kento play.”

If it wasn’t for the table's long drapes and the cloth on your lap, everyone beside you would have seen the scene. And if it also wasn’t for the waiter who asked for the desserts, you would’ve coated Higuruma’s finger with your cum.

“May I now serve the desert?”

“Please do.” Nanami gave the server a smile. And just like that, the tension from earlier dissipated and the two men were now back to normal. They chewed their meals and laughed heartily at their conversations, ignorant to your dazed expression.

The whole dinner went by without any more intrusions and fastly, it had come to an end. You stepped out of the restaurant, arm linked around Higuruma’s with the bouquet in hand while you bid your goodbyes to Nanami. It was unfortunate that your dinner with them had to end, but that means you now have the chance to return their gesture.

It was clear the tension from earlier was still present. With Higuruma failing to keep his attention on the road ahead, and your eyes drifting from the window to his crotch, a few words needed to be said.

“Hiromi, that was so unfair!” You pouted, and Higuruma could only chuckle as his response.

“I’ll make it up to you,” He looked at you, “We will make it up to you.”

“How?” You bit your lip, pressing your legs together to ease your arousal.

“You know how.”

“But I don’t know how.” Higuruma lets out a soft grunt at your words, caught between annoyance and exhilaration. You can’t have your way with him and you know that. He’s still in control but seeing him lose his insanity over just mere words made you laugh.

“Please?” Your tone dripped with hoax innocence, pressing onto his patience even more when he stayed silent. “Stop being such a gentleman, Sir Hiromi!”

“Careful” He warned, “You might get more than you wish for.” But his statement only added fuel to the fire, igniting another desire within you to see how far you can go.

You swallowed your hesitance, “But that’s what I want.”

“Test me one more time, Y/N.”

Was it a threat? An order? Anyway you see it, you will be the one about to be tested. It’s frightening; you have a zero idea of what he can promise you after pushing his buttons. However, the fear of the unknown sends a sweet ache down your sex only he could relieve. But seeing that you’ve pressed him, you might be getting anything but a sweet treat.

“Come on, tell me how you’ve been touching yourself to the thought of being shared.”

Your body stiffened at his bold accusation, flinching even.

“Oh, was that too much? A sweet girl like you can’t handle words like that? Was it too mean, Name?” He mocked you, but your body betrayed his mockery as your pussy dripped with more lust.

“Where did all that confidence go? Where’s the girl that will grind on Nanami’s dick in front of me? Or did my little stunt earlier put you in your place? Perhaps, I need to do more to get it through your skull.”

You clenched your fists, ready to face his tenure, but your voice wavered. “Y-you’re the one who’s mean! You touched me in front of everyone!”

“Now you’re acting like you didn’t enjoy it— like you didn’t love Nanami’s eyes all over you.” His words cut right through the air, striking you a fact that you weren’t ready to accept. The sudden hushness of your voice was the only confirmation Higuruma needed. Slowly, his lips contorted into a smile.

His unbelievable behavior with you was uncharacteristic and hardly a reflection of who he used to be; a result of crossing your boundaries. As he drives a kilometer closer and closer to your house, you get to see his true nature— a hungry, and sadistic man. A man who reveled in your indignity. It wasn’t off-putting, though. If anything, it turned you on even more.

Your ride was almost coming to an end, yet none of you spoke up. Higuruma still had that stupid smile on his face, while you’re still shaken from your argument with him. When you arrived at your front porch, you hurriedly stepped out of the car, eager to escape whatever words he’ll be saying.

“You’re mean, Hiromi!” You scowled, stomping to your front door while Higuruma trailed behind without wiping his smile off his face. “Mean? I thought you liked that too.” You shot him a mocking smile before pushing your door open. However, Higuruma’s quick to close it shut.

His coy mockery slipped, revealing his genuine concern, “You… still enjoyed it, right?” he asked, needing to be assured. A small giggle ran past your lips, turning around to face the man who held a softer gaze than before. There was a pause in your movement, mind in a dilemma over what your next response should be. But one thing’s for sure; you’re ready for another date, and hopefully it goes past just rubbing you under tables.

Higuruma awaited your next move, curious at your roaming eyes. Suddenly, you started to flicker inexistent dust off his suit and fixed his unmoving tie. You took your time with your fingers, gliding them across his firm chest, unaware of his rapid heartbeat. Grabbing the lapel of his suit, you slowly pulled him into you just close enough to have your lips ghosting over his ear.

“Next time… Don’t disappoint me, Sir Hiromi. ”

Curse you! Not a single case in his profession had left him this winded. Whatever you are, you’ve bewitched him. You’ve cursed him in perpetual yearning, casting him a spell that always seemed to put you out of his reach. Now, you’ve displayed your power over him, giggling at his dumbfounded face. You may as well have hexed his mind because your distance only attracted him more.

“Ba-bye, Hiromi!”

Witch.

Exhaustion has bounded your body to near fatigue. Every action you take accompanied a sigh, a testament to your depleted energy. Lurid night shifts were a nightmare came true for you— darkness shrouding your surroundings, while the emptiness of the lot drew you in between fright and boredom. Golfers weren't a common sight at this hour either, leaving you alone with your cart and some alcohol you stashed for yourself.

However, your job can’t do itself. After serving the last round of drinks to your clients, you started a lap around the course. Night shifts were boring, but lately, your entertainment lied on every replay your mind made of your date, leaving a lingering smile on your face.

As you hummed a melody, your mind roamed its memories. Your date with Higuruma and Nanami has left you constantly checking your messages, waiting for the seen status to change.

“Perhaps, I was too mean to him.” You muttered with a sigh, but your genius mind jolted your body awake, striking yourself a brilliant thought. Giddily, you parked your car to the side and hopped off. You opened your camera and started to position your body for a normal selfie, then shifted your camera slightly above you to get a better view of your chest. You’ve mastered all inappropriate angles to get a man shaking in longing. It was a bait that worked many times in your favor— the two men won’t be an exception to this, of course.

Bending forward, puckering your lips, even pushing your breasts. You’d let them know what they’ve been missing. But, the unsettling feeling of being watched returns. However, you were too late to turn and were instead, shockingly greeted by a familiar voice.

“Bending over out in the open? A girl like you really has no shame, hm?” The sudden question left you off guarded, shrieking from the terror of the unforeseen voice. You quickly spun around, ready to hit whoever dared to mess with you. However, you’re faced with Higuruma and Nanami with cocky grins on their faces.

“W-What are you guys— No, wait! Why were you guys watching me like a creep!” They ignored your complaints, stepping forward to corner you.

“Is that really the question that needs to be asked here, sweets?”

“More like, why is your ass out for the whole golf course to see?” Nanami joined in, taunting you with each step he took. “Is that your phone in your hand?”

“It’s perfectly normal to have my phone with me all the time!”

“Hm, it’s also normal for you to send these photos, right?” Then, Nanami whipped up his phone, its screen illuminated the very scandalous pictures you took. Your shock elicited a gasp, realizing your blundering fingers had accidentally sent them in some ridiculous manner.

“What— No! Ugh, whatever!” Overwhelming embarrassment enveloped your frame as you stepped away from the scene. However, confusion replaced your shame when their conversation continued.

“It’s pink.” Higuruma suddenly commented, “Of course it’s pink— It always is!” He followed it with a brazen chuckle while staring at your pictures, Nanami joining him soon when he realized. The ambiguity of their conversation has you glancing back, refraining your steps to fill in your curiosity.

“We might be going too far with this, Hiromi.” Nanami told him once he came to his senses, showing you a fraction of his pity. However, Hiromi’s meaner, and pent up from the few days he made no contact.

“Look at her, Kento. She’s not even leaving.” You’re humiliated once again by Higuruma. However, the indignity their words caused has you in this undeniable pull. Nanami caught your gaze, before you grumpily stomped back to your cart.

Higuruma walked to you, “Are you?” The air hung heavy with his unspoken desire, and suddenly, you felt your confidence climbing up once again. You remained still, wanting to see how far Higuruma he’d cross the line today.

“I mean…” You muttered. He exchanges a knowing look with Nanami before closing the proximity between you two. He let his fingers travel your arms first, before sliding them at your back, pulling you in closer.

Suddenly, Nanami’s unannounced hands join in, welcoming

itself to explore your body. Your heart pounded against your chest at their hunger as your knees buckled under the weight of their hunger.

“You’re right where we want you to be.” Higuruma remarked against your neck before nibbling your exposed skin. Their touches ignited every nerve in your body, firing it up with anticipation. Every small contact they made with your skin had you on the edge of surrendering yourself. And it was hard to retain your confidence when Higuruma and Nanami were hitching your skirt up.

Higruma groaned, “I'm always right, Kento.” Then, he pressed his finger against your clothed clit with such pressure. He intently watched your face, examining every little twitch your mouth makes as he dug his finger more.

“W-Wha—” Before you could finish, Nanami grabbed your chin, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. He kissed you like a depraved man, tongue welcoming itself inside your mouth. He drowned out the noises you made as Higuruma continued rubbing you through your pink panties.

“She’ll look even better naked.” Without second thoughts, he dropped to his knees and tugged your panties down.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.” He breathed out, before licking your pussy in long, wet stripes. Lapping on it and spreading his mouth all over your sex while he gripped the soft plush of your ass closer to his face, practically inviting you to ride him.

“Do it, angel.” With Nanami’s assurance, you hesitantly grinded your cunt on Higuruma’s face, making sure to hit the soft tip of his nose. It panged you with a profound need, like you’ve just hit the jackpot. His nose. It was perfect. So perfect, like it was molded to have your pussy grinding on it.

It felt good. It’s only his tongue and Nanami’s hands playing with your nipples but it feels so good. Each sway of your hips has you whining for more.

“H-Hiroooo—!” Higuruma hummed in response to your mewls, sucking on your clit with more passion, before bringing his lips all over. He was relentless. Not a single spot of your dripping pussy was left unkissed.

Nanami kissed your forehead, such a starching difference from his filthy praises. “Ride it. Come on, I knooow my girl can do it.” You steadied yourself against his chest, breathless and writhing under his hold.

“Feel good? Mhm, you wanna feel more?”

“Pleaseeee— I wanna!”

“Atta girl, just like that. Ride it like you want it— Fuck.”

Nanami attempted to soothe you with his soft words, murmuring sweet praises for enduring Higuruma’s tongue. But you couldn’t even form a coherent thought— let alone actual words.

“So so soo good! Hiro— please!” Every noise that left your mouth was incomplete, babbling on and on about Higuruma’s tongue while gripping onto Nanami for your life.

“You cummin’ angel? You wanna cum all over Hiromi’s face?” The pleasure was blinding. All you can do is quickly nod and whine for more.

“Yes! yes please, please!” But once those words came out, Higuruma stopped all his movements abruptly, baring your wet, pulsing cunt.

“A girl like you… has to earn it.” Higuruma says in between his breaths. He could feel his dick screaming at him to be free— to be inside you.

You whined at the loss of his sweet lips and turned to Nanami with pleading eyes to coddle you. He simply smiled and pecked your forehead. “Cruel. You’re going to make her cry.”

Then, Higuruma interrupted your little moment with him, “Im fucking hard, Kento. Give her to me.” His impatience was evident with how he forced you to your knees, leading your hands to the belt at his waist. He looked down at you, watching you comply as you unbuckled them.

After his belt, came his pants and boxers. The sight of his bare and hard cock made you stifle a moan, taken aback by his unexpected size and girth.

“Show me you earn it.” He commanded, and you swiftly abided. Your tongue made contact with his bulging tip, swirling it around and spreading his pre-cum all over, before opening your mouth and taking him whole.

It was such a stretch having him inside your mouth— a challenge for him either. He cursed himself, restraint faltering at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth surrounding his shaft. Your head was guided by Nanami's hold on your hair, making it much harder to control himself. The thought of you being guided by his best friend makes him so horny.

As you hollow your cheeks and slid your head in and out, Higuruma’s fingers found its way wrapped in your hair, together with Nanami’s. “C’mon, doll, you gotta suck Hiromi's cock better than that." Nanami buried your head further, showing no sympathy for your pitiful state.

Your hands twitched at your sides, hinting at them to give you just a fraction of their kindness. But respect is earned both ways. When you had wickedly played with their minds, you’d be treated with anything but respect.

“A-A girl like you— shit- needs t’ be taught.”

With ease, he unbuckled his belt and placed his thick and heavy cock on your empty palm. He offered no comfort at your side now. His light, velvety touches at your cheeks were long discarded, replaced with his tip that bumped your puffed cheeks.

“L-look at her filthy mouth, Kento."

"You think— ah, fuuuck. You think she can handle two cocks at the same time?"

Higuruma drilled into your skull with each thrust that he made on your mouth. His lengthy cock protruded again and again and violated your vulgar mouth. However, the two men were unsatisfied at only ruining your face.

His chest heaved, unruly groans drawn out from his throat as you sloppily lolled your tongue on his tip.

"Shit, just like that." Your eager cunt pulsed at his erotic words. Obscene noises hung in the air, mixed with Higuruma's curses and Nanami's stifled groans.

"Shh, I know I know, you need to be quiet, angel. You don't want us getting caught, right?"

"Not even a minute in and she's already struggling— pfft."

"Maybe a few more sessions like this and she'll last longer, yeah?" Pity was finally granted when Higuruma slipped his dick out.

But you should've known that a torturous man like Higuruma had other intentions. "P-please, please touch me— mph!" He silenced your pleads with his cock, chuckling darkly at your muffled cries. Their pleasure is derived from humiliating you. You know this. But it feels good. So good when they defiled you publicly with nothing but a beverage cart covering you.

"Eyes here, angel."

Your mouth worked wonders on Higuruma's dick, slurping his leaked juices as Nanami furiously fucked your palm. Soft and smaller hands wrapped itself on his shaft, the contrast to his hard cock sent him in a dizzying haze.

The lewdness of your cries, your chin covered in drool, and your doll-like eyes that silently begged for more— you truly were a slut for pleasing them both.

The arousal from fucking out in the open and your erotic moans vibrating on their dicks did the job. Their humiliation is gone as they ride out their high, pulling their cocks from your grasp and aiming right at your fucked out face.

"F-fuck, keep looking at us like that, angel."

High on the pleasure from your tongue, cum shot out of Higuruma’s dick, coating your face messily as more and more of his thick, creamy, seed haphazardly painted your face.

"Fuck! Yes, yes yes yes..."

"S-shit, 'm coming too." Nanami wasted no time in entering your mouth, pleasure bursting within him as your tight, hot, mouth sucked him on instinct.

Their sticky semen coated your mouth, drool mixed with Nanami's cum dripped to the ground below, struggling to swallow his massive load.

As much as Nanami wants to give you a breather, time is currently ticking, inching closer and closer to the end of your shift. It's also only a matter of time before a coworker notices your absence.

In one swift motion, Nanami pulled you up from the grass, bending you over the cart’s side seat.

"Wait—" But Nanami doesn't. Instead, he lined up his throbbing dick and steadily pushed himself inside your pussy.

Your eyes shot open at the sudden feeling. Pussy filled to the brim, and you can swear he's grown larger, thicker, compared to when you had him on your palm. Your pussy clenched around him deliciously, struggling to adjust to his size.

"F-fuck fuck fuck…" There was an agonizing pain in how he stuffed you. Once he started, his pace was torturously slow, savoring your fluttering walls.

"too good 't much!" Though every effort in flailing your body away from Kento's grasp was in vain. Higuruma surrounded you, a scowl on his face.

"Fuck, Hiromi. She's clenching me good."

"You're one greedy fucker, Kento."

"So fucking tight…”

He shushed you to be quiet, but his cock sliding in and out of you drew out sinful noises from your lips.

Nanami had spent countless of nights fucking his fists to you. How you'd sound like and how you'd feel like. Now, it was undeniably incomparable to the tight squeeze your pussy gave, and the high pitched moans you cried out.

"S-shut her u-up, 's too noisy,"

"Feel good! S-sir Kento—!" Your tears stained your cheeks, mixed with the drool escaping your puffy lips. Under his slamming hips, lay his cruel hand, that kept on rubbing your clit in tune with his thrusts.

"C’mon baby one more cock— so good so so good" Higuruma whispered, encouraging you to take his cock in your mouth again. "You take us so good sweets. You're the sweetest."

Your shaking frame struggled to keep up with their brutal pacing, legs so weak Nanami had to lift up your hips, putting you in that position where you could feel every single inch of his cock.

In their own corrupt way, it was their way of putting you in your place— serving punishment by ramming their hips and hollowing your tight, dripping cunt.

"Fuck… she's squeezing me- shit."

Nanami panted, eyes clenched shut and slamming himself harder and deeper— doing anything to chase that high.

"You close, sweets?" Higuruma grinned,"Kento's dick feels that good?” He taunted you, knowing you couldn’t reply with your mouth full of his dick. You closed your eyes and let them digged your holes, thrusts so persistent you were molding into their little fuck toy.

After a few more thrusts, his pace started to become unsteady, drawn out and returning to fucking you so slow and sensually. He was close, so fucking close. You're not done yet but he was already right over the edge. Curse you and your tight pussy.

But Nanami was no quitter. He held it in and waited for any sign that you're near your climax too.

"Fuck fuck fuck— don't stop!"

Just the sign he needed.

With a long breath, he slammed his hips into you with such force, knocking you right off your feet.

Plap plap plap

You were a mess; jaw wide open, whimpering and clinging unto Nanami's arm around your waist, eyes squeezed shut.

Nanami fucked you until you're dumb, unraveling every coherent thought you could muster; fucking you in a way it had you turning into a cock hungry slut.

"She's cumming."

Plap plap plap

He didn’t stop. He didn’t want to. He needed to see your throbbing and stretched out cunt squeezing him dry. He wasn’t stopping unless you had that fucked out look across your pretty face. God, he begged himself to hold out for much longer, wanting to see you take all his cum.

All his efforts were worth it. In the end, he had you screaming out a shrilling whimper, flailing your body as pleasure electrified your whole frame. Surges of blinding light cascaded you, then the rest is a blur. The only vivid feeling was his persistent cock.

"Good..." plap "fuckin'..." plap "girl..." plap

Gone was the control he prided himself on. He filled you with everything he had been holding back, pushing you further with every wave of pleasure that erupted within him. He emptied his balls, all its contents now leaking out of your weeping pussy.

"What a fuckin' mess..." Higuruma cackled, before lifting your limp semi-conscious self in his arms. Although he wanted his arms wrapped around you in a sweet embrace, a gratification for enduring them, he did made a promise to himself.

“My turn.”

It's going to be a long, long night.

tags : @packsvlog @honeynanamin @rrssrios @misscigarettes @shokosbunny @shamelessdonutkryptonite @i1uvc4ke @dongh9e @freakadelik @tomurafrlover23 @sad-darksoul @glader13 @that-redheadd @beantokki @a-hidden-gem @joonsanswers @erenspersonalsexdoll @s-1-xx @shxniq @ilovetengen @zianaz-slvtz @jwnzlvr @wifenanami @20kglex @oromaangel @jejejjekskwl @s4m4nth4wrld @jaeminsmilk @alpha-mommy69 @lobsteeer @blackphoenix0718 @wrldldo @nappingmoon @cindyneko-strider @yumiecheesecrackers @rattats-world @mirrorballkento

© jellicatty | no plagiarising please (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[wonupatootie]

SVT Social Media AU Fic Recsᡣ𐭩 Part III

쉬는 날인데 넌 뭐해 생각 있음 나와 놀래~

Main Recs Masterlist

➣Part I // Part II // Part III

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!

Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~

Choi Seungcheol

“The Way Back” by @suhnshinehaos

Gn!reader || rapper x actor, angst, fluff, some humour || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･fans reminisce on your relationship with seungcheol

Kwon Soonyoung

“Let Me Hear You Say” by @cherrycheolliesc

Fem!reader || YouTuber au, friends to enemies to lovers, comedy, angst, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･after not seeing each other for years, Yn is ecstatic when she finds out all of her friends will finally be in the same place at one time. but unfortunately an unwanted situation turns a 12 year friendship into hateful relationship between yn and soonyoung. as things grow sour between them, their group gets tired of it and tries to fix things.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“The Roomie” by @zo-byeol

Fem!reader || roommates au, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･kwon soonyoung and his friends need a roommate. (y/n) just got evicted. It sounds simple enough, but really, is anything ever simple?

Jeon Wonwoo

“To My Youth” by @viastro

Fem!reader || love alarm inspired au, slice of life, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･in a world where everyone finds out who loves them within a 10 meter radius through the app love alarm, confessing your feelings without the use of the app is no longer considered normal. however, you refuse to download it in hopes that you’ll be able to fall in love without being dependent on love alarm.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Back To You” by @seventeensmaus

Fem!reader || brother's best friend, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･y/n and mingyu are twins. they are pretty much inseparable along with their childhood friend seungcheol. the three live together in an apartment. y/n has never met mingyu’s friends. that is until one day she finally does and sees someone from her past.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Clueless” by @hanniedream

Coworker au, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Wonwoo and you are were both oblivious idiots.

Lee Seokmin

“Sunshine and Sunflowers” by @shuastruck

Fem!reader || college au, sort of childhood friends to lovers, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when you entered college, the last thing you expected was to see your childhood friend lee seokmin in a sea of unknown faces. but just as you had expected, he didn't even remember you in the slightest. you didn't blame him; he had moved away in first grade and how many people remembered their best friend from kindergarten? but that didn't stop you from falling for his cute smile and sweet personality, so now you were stuck in love with a boy who barely knew your existence.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“We Have Chemistry” by @seungcy

Fem!reader || college au, slice of life, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Being a biology major was difficult enough along with juggling an internship at a hospital. So how about adding some cute guys to your internship to spice it up a bit? Can you balance it out?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“What Is Love?” by @cupidhaos

High school au, cupid au, past life au, fantasy, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seokmin never expected to fall in love with a human - especially one that was supposed to be with somebody else

Chwe Hansol

“Two Minus One” by @twogyuu

Fem!reader || uni/recent college grads au, strangers to lovers, fluff, crack || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･What’s a better way to find love in the modern day than through dating apps? Eight months after his breakup with his long-time girlfriend, Vernon is finally ready for the dating scene once more - or so he thought. Finding the new game of love more challenging than he remembered, he reaches out to you, Chan’s best friend and legendary wing woman, for help.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Lie Again” by @escapewriter

Fem!reader || idol au, soulmate au, fluff, humour, slight angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a world in which various types of the soulmate system apply, you just so happen to have one that is completely stupid; being able to hear what your soulmate thinks of. however, when your soulmate hums a certain tune, you cant seem to get it out of your head.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“花樣年華 : HYYH : Golden Years” by @sw1mmingfoolz

Fem!reader || college au, eventual roommates, angst, fluff, slowburn || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when vernon and y/n realise their partners are cheating with each other, they strike up an unlikely friendship trying to figure out how it all began.

Unspecified Endgame

“Feverish Lips” by @sunlightwoo

College au, mafia au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you’d think that because it’s the first semester of the year, it’d be like the beginning of a roller coaster when its slowly becoming climatic and stressful. however, once you’re at the top of the point you have two choices: scream your lungs or quickly hang onto your life support. sadly in your case, you can either suck it up and get through it, or get involved in its loops in tangles with trouble that is bound to be met within every corner that you turn to.

⤷“Louder Than Bombs” (Part 2 of feverish lips)

College au, mafia au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･the past semester of your senior year was hectic after the winter ball, its events making it harder for you to get back into your old routine. a rollercoaster that you finally managed to get off of for a blink of an eye, when suddenly you’re strapped on once more. you think to yourself that maybe you’ll make it to graduation in May; maybe alive. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Here Comes The Sun” by @seokgyuu

Fem!reader || college au, slice of life, angst, comedy, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･what's supposed to be just another year of fun and games at one of south korea's top universities turns into a rollercoaster of emotions for you. stuck between best friends and former crushes, you try to find love, friends and most importantly yourself.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“A Poem A Day” by @wooahaeproductions

Gn!reader || modern day cyrano!, fluff, romance, angst, comedy || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･When Mingyu literally falls head over heels for someone, he has no idea what to do. What happens when he gets help (and a little meddling) from his friends? it definitely won’t be boring, that’s for sure.

Please let me know if the links have any problems~

[emmiesoverthemoon]

✧ overwhelming warmth

Pairing: g-dragon / kwon jiyong x reader

Word Count: 4,309

Summary: Management has forced G-Dragon to collaborate with you—a renowned producer who creates sound like no other—in order to push his creative boundaries with another set of ears, and he is not happy. Unable to accept his jealousy of your skill, he takes it out on you and learns that may not have been the right decision.

Tags: rivals to lovers, forced proximity, jealousy, tension, enemies to lovers, second pov

cross posted on ao3 here

bonus chapter (sexual content warning) here

Resentment had settled in Jiyong’s chest long before he even met her. It twisted through his ribs like a parasite, feeding on his pride, his ego, the carefully built persona he had spent very well over a decade perfecting.

“Have you heard of her? She has been in the industry for only a year, and has already smashed records and won awards, with only one studio album…” His manager’s voice droned out; or Jiyong stopped caring about what he had to say. When he had stated your name, he had barely resisted the urge to scoff. Her? He had spent over a decade crafting his empire, pushing boundaries, redefining sound. He had done it alone. And now, this woman—this newcomer—was being handed his album as if he were some small incapable baby in need of training wheels.

G-Dragon was not a man accustomed to feeling second best. His name was carved into the very bones of the Kpop industry—his sound, his vision, his ideology. He had bled for every note, burned for every lyric, and now, he was being told that did not suffice. It sat horribly in his chest.

“I can do it myself,” he had snapped. He was the King of Kpop for goodness sake, he didn’t need another person in the room constantly with him, poking in his studio, lecturing him how to make his own album.

His elder had barely blinked. “Then don’t even bother imagining a release date. Not with us.”

That had silenced him.

“Right then,” His manager started, “You two will stay together in your home until the project is completed. This is because I know that otherwise you would never show up to work. It will help to have a fresh pair of hands and ears.” Jiyong walked out of the office, not leaving a single word in his wake.

Now, standing in the threshold of the house where they would be forced to coexist, Jiyong felt that disgust and resentment swell again like bile in his throat. He had not even seen her yet, and already, his skin burned with irritation.

And then, you opened the studio door.

You didn’t look smug. Didn’t look victorious or condescending. A nonchalant expression was worn across your face. A polite one; a normal look you’d expect for someone welcoming a new coworker to the office. If anything, the only readable emotion was confusion. As if you, too, had been thrown into this situation against her will.

"Let’s get this over with," he muttered, shouldering past you without waiting for a response.

He didn’t see the way your brows pulled together at his hostility. You did not even manage to get a single word of greeting or introduction out yet, and he had already decided that he had enough of your presence. Even though he is older than you, you were still shocked and a little angered by the audacity of his actions.

But he felt it when you followed him inside, closing the door behind yourself with a quiet, resigned sigh.

彡

You weren’t what he expected.

Jiyong had been prepared for arrogance, for gloating. He had braced himself for some pretentious genius who would relish every second of taking over his album. Or even someone who would immediately start getting all nosy and searching through his studio, eager to copy his work and steal it as your own. But you were… silent.

Not timid. Not weak. Just… observant.

That only irritated him more.

You didn’t react when he snapped in your direction. Didn’t argue when he ignored your suggestions or dismissed your ideas with clipped words. He wanted a fight—wanted you to give him something to latch onto, something that would justify the bitterness clawing at him. Something that would charge him to his management to persuade them that you were indeed the villain he imagined you to be, and to allow him to fly solo once more.

But you never took the bait.

And then, you started working.

It was infuriating, really. How easily you molded sound. How you didn’t force a song into being but rather coaxed it, like you were uncovering something that had already existed in the universe, hidden until you laid your hands upon it.

Worse, you made it look effortless.

Jiyong had spent years honing his craft, bleeding for it, burning himself to exhaustion to achieve what he had. And yet, you stood there, in his studio, weaving together melodies in ways he never would have imagined, as if the music you were creating was an immersive extension of your very soul and being rather than something you had to fight tooth and nail just so it could sound the exact way you desired.

And he despised it.

He despised you.

Not because you were bad at what you did—but because you were better than he was.

彡

You weren't blind.

From the moment he arrived, the animosity radiated from him like heat off pavement. He barely looked at you, barely spoke to you beyond clipped instructions and muttered complaints.

And for what?

You had never done anything to him. Never insulted his work, never dismissed his talent. In fact, you had admired him and his work prior to all of this. You had looked up to him, had studied his music, and had learned from the very foundation he had built. G-Dragon was one of your inspirations.

But now?

Now, you could barely stand to be in the same room as him. It was like walking on broken glass—careful, quiet, blood boiling; knowing that at any moment, he could snap. And when he did, it was over something purely idiotic. It enraged you.

When your manager proposed this idea to you, all you felt was pure excitement and enthusiasm. To work so closely with one of your idols on his newest studio album? You were immediately on board. You had imagined this experience to stimulate the feeling of watching Leonardo Da Vinci sketch out the ‘Mona Lisa’, or witness the frameworks of the Pyramids of Giza in Ancient Egypt be conceptualised and built. Never in your mind did this hatred for you cross over these thoughts. And frankly, you had had enough.

"I think the layering is too heavy here," you had said on one late night together, adjusting the volume on one of the tracks they had been working on. "It’s drowning out the—"

"I know how to produce a song," Jiyong interrupted sharply. "I’ve been doing this shit long before you have even dreamed of touching an instrument."

Your eyebrows ticked, taken aback.

"Okay," you said carefully, trying to ignore the frustration rising in your chest, which was a frequent, uncomfortable feeling you had been having recently. You had repressed enough anger that could cover across several people working with G-Dragon. “But I think if we just—"

"Just what?" He scoffed, turning to face you fully. His eyes held enough rage to kill someone, his expression hard as rock, "Let you take over? Because that’s what you really want, isn’t it?"

The floodgates of your anger management had smashed wide open at that last comment.

"Are you serious?" you snapped, voice incredulous. "I’m literally trying to help you, GD.” Until he held an ounce of respect for you, you had refused to use his real name, which you fore-sought was not going to happen any time in the future. If he did not believe you deserved respect, then neither did he, age-respect hierarchy be damned. “That’s what I was asked to do by my management, just like you were. It’s not my fault if you can’t handle the fact that someone else has good ideas!"

His jaw clenched.

"You’re nothing but a burden in here," he muttered.

Your breath caught.

And then, you laughed—a sharp, humorless sound.

"God, you are insufferable”, you aspersed. "I’m sorry that I am capable of creating something incredible that millions adore. I’m sorry that you like my work. But I can’t help your jealousy, GD. That’s something you have to deal with. Pull your thumb from your mouth and grow up."

You turned on your heel and left, slamming the door behind you.

For the first time, his mouth was left agape; he had nothing to say.

彡

Silence never felt heavier than when you were gone.

Jiyong sat in the now-empty studio, staring at the untouched buttons and controls. The weight of his own words pressed against his ribs.

You’re nothing but a burden in here

He hadn’t meant it, not really.

He had been cruel because cruelty was easier than admitting the truth—easier than saying “I feel threatened by you, I feel small next to you, I hate that I admire you.”

To G-Dragon, guilt was a foreign sensation, but he felt it now, curling in his gut like something alive. He pulled out his phone, opening his message app to request your address from your manager.

The next day, he showed up at your door, embarrassed. Behind his back, he clutched a bouquet of lilies; nothing overly extravagant, but prettier, larger than average to hopefully settle some of the rocky waves between you that his tidal current had forced at you.

After looking in the peephole of your door, you opened it cautiously, your eyes flickering across his face, analysing his inability to meet your eyes as normal, but this time, not for disdain, but out of humiliation. The way his brows were furrowed and eyes low, drifting toward the floor and your feet; you soaked it all in, the powerhouse of the Kpop industry G-Dragon, was here, on your doorstep, flushed as a beetroot. A part of you liked what you saw. Suppressing those images down, you remember his words; you were pissed off at him. Your gaze sharpened.

"What is this?" you asked.

He exhaled. "An apology." He revealed his left arm from behind his back, bringing the bouquet of beautiful pink and white lillies into your line of vision. The sharpness you held in your eyes was loosened. Flowers were an achilles heel in your anger.

Crossing your arms, your right eyebrow raised expectantly as you broke the silence once more, “For what?”

Jiyong met your eyes. Finally, you could see into the pools of his irises and truly pick apart his humiliation.

"For being an ass. For—" He hesitated. "For taking out my insecurities on you."

A beat of silence.

And then, to his surprise, you smirked. Small and amused.

"Well," you sighed, stepping aside, your words dripping, sticky with sarcasm, “I guess you do know how to learn and grow after all."

And just like that, the tension between the two of you shifted. It had initially started small, like a bud of a lily that had yet to bloom. Glances that lingered too long. ‘Accidental’ touches that weren’t so accidental. One night, while adjusting a track together, his hand brushed against yours. Neither of you moved away. A crack of electricity shivered through the both of you. You could see goosebumps quickly scatter and raise across his hand.

It built slowly, like a cacophony of an orchestra rising to its crescendo. Jiyong started to notice small quirks about you. The way you pulled the edge of your bottom lip between your teeth when you were truly focused. How you counted the beat of anything by tapping your pinky finger against your palm simultaneously to the sound. Your incessant habit of humming the same tune he could not identify when you were deep in thought. How your voice sounded when the hours you would spend with him would reach the night, a soft, almost whispery tone that eluded him to a softer, sweet version of yourself he had rarely received the honour to see.

Before he knew it, you plagued his mind. In his solitary moments away from you physically, you invaded his mind. He imagined all different kinds of situations with you as the focal point. Taking you out to dinners, exploring the world together, spoiling you for as long as you would allow him to, being beside you in galas, showing you off to the world as his girl. As long as you were a part of it, he had yearned for it.

His own realisation interrupted his fantasies and caught him off guard. He draped his fingers across the lower sector of his face, which he had just realised was quite warm. Goodness, were you aware of just how big the effect you have on him is?

彡

The house was quiet except for the faint hum of your phone playing music from down the hallway in the bathroom. Jiyong sat on the couch in the vast living area, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, pretending not to be listening for the sound of the shower running echoing, bouncing across each wall, reverberating in his head.

It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

But lately, everything about you had started to feel that way.

The way you laughed—low and warm, like the last sip of wine. The way your voice lingered in his brain and had no means of budging away, similarly to how his cigarette smoke would cling to his clothing and continue to hold on tight no matter how many wash cycles it endured. This woman must be completely unaware that she was making his stomach tighten. The way they worked cooperatively together now, in sync, as if their hands had learned the rhythm of each other’s movements without even trying. It felt oddly domestic, and that was natural to him, too natural.

It was ridiculous.

And worse? Jiyong had no idea if she felt the way he did. If he invaded her head in every possible moment, clawing at the inside of her mind and filling every groove and cavity. If when she gazed at the moon after sunset, she imagined the beacon of it's light illuminating his features just as he did. If he was the first thing she thought of as the morning sun beckoned her awake, and if her last thoughts at night were of him as the stars in the sky tucked her in the guest bed's silky sheets. All he could do was hope.

A sudden noise pulled him from his thoughts—the sharp creak of the bathroom door cracking open, followed by the softest, most hesitant voice.

“Jiyong?”

His breath hitched. The voice was small, unsure. Embarrassed. His heart stuttered, completely unprepared for the sheer intimacy of hearing his name spoken like that. Now that he thought about it, he did not think he had ever heard his name slip from her lips; at least not so sickeningly saccharine. The fantasies that generated as a result of your voice speaking to him that way made his blood rush all through his body.

He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice casual. “Uh… yeah?”

A pause. And then, with the quiet resignation of someone who really really didn’t want to ask but had no other choice— “I… forgot my towel.”

Jiyong’s brain short-circuited.

For a moment, he just stared at the hallway leading to the bathroom, as if his body hadn’t yet caught up with what he’d just heard. And then—heat. So much heat. It crawled up his neck, spreading fast, filling every inch of him with something unbearably awkward and hot. It all was so overwhelming and so so pleasurable at once.

He swallowed hard. “O-okay. Um.” His voice cracked. He winced. “Where is it?”

“In my room. Top drawer.”

Jiyong shot up from the couch like he had been set on fire. It was a simple request. A completely normal, mundane situation. You had revealed how your memory was not amazing sometimes. But the sheer implication of this situation—the fact that you were in the bathroom, wet, barely wrapped in anything, waiting on him—sent his mind and imagination into overdrive.

Jiyong all but sprinted to your room, yanking open the drawer with more force than necessary. His hands fumbled as he grabbed the first towel he could find, cursing under his breath at his own inability to act normal. When he returned to the hallway, the bathroom door was still mostly closed, cracked open just enough for him to see a sliver of your smooth, bare shoulder and your exposed clavicle glistening with droplets of water reflecting the light from the ceiling. His throat went dry, he had never knocked so quickly in his life.

“Here,” he blurted, shoving the towel toward the opening like it was a lifeline.

Your hand appeared, fingers brushing against his as she took it from him. Too warm. Too soft. Jiyong could have sworn he heard your soft lips inhale sharply.

“Thanks,” you murmured, voice somehow even quieter than before. Something thick and charged filled the small space between them. His fingers twitched. He needed to leave. Needed to walk away before his face actually caught fire.

But before he could, she let out a soft, breathy laugh. “You’re blushing.”

Jiyong groaned, running a hand down his face as he took a step back. "No way.”

“Yes, you are.” He could hear the smirk growing on your features. He let out a humoured breath, his embarrassment still at an all time high.

“I am not.”

Her laughter grew, muffled by the door but still unmistakably amused. Teasing.

“Shut up and finish your shower,” he muttered, already turning on his heel before he could embarrass himself even further. Behind him, the door locked shut, and Jiyong exhaled sharply.

Ridiculous.

Absolutely, completely ridiculous.

Later that night, technically approaching the a.m., you had found yourself back in the studio alone. The release date was approaching within the next week, and you were giving the album files a listen to ensure that everything was in order for the umpteenth time. Jiyong had grown to know that you were a perfectionist. Even more so than he could be; but he still understood your need to nitpick.

After your first—and currently only—album had soared so successfully after releasing, you had felt antagonising pressure to succeed again. Your fans were expecting the world and more from you—and even though you were eternally grateful for them, you needed a second to breathe. You had grown antsy, nothing that you were adding to this song was making it work. You let out the occasional groan or heavy sigh anxiously; had you really reached your peak before your career prolonged?

Wondering why he could still hear noise from the studio long after he had retired to his room for the night, Jiyong cracked open the door and looked upon you, a look of sympathy in his eyes. The scene of you before him screamed that you felt a heavy weight on your back.

Your hands trembled, the corner of your lip was tucked in your teeth, a tick lay across your expression as your head held the headphones that were drumming noise into your ears worryingly loud told Jiyong everything he needed to know about what was going through your mind currently. You were completely zoned in, your eyes not breaking contact from your monitor screen, so you would not have expected to see a ringed finger reach down to press the spacebar, and the same hands brush against your hair to remove headphones—alleviating some pressure from your head—to be gently placed on the table. You swivelled in your chair to the culprit.

"Jiyong, what are you doing..?" You spoke, your tone unsure of whether it should be angry, sad, or whispered.

"Giving you a chance to have a second to breathe." He replied, softly seeing through you. You stood and let out a sigh.

"I just need it to be perfect. I don't want to release something the people won't like, I need them to value it——"

"People will like what we have made. They will hold it dear to them and value it because you have made it. Not because of its objective value. Because they like you." He interrupted you, his tone soft, holding gentle finality. You nod, breathing softly. A beat passes, and suddenly you realise just how closely you are standing—too close—to Jiyong. A pit forms in your stomach, your mind racing at a million miles an hour. Is it hot in here? You needed to remove your hoodie, you were wearing it because it was cold when you entered.

Was it always so overbearingly warm in here? You tug on your sleeves and look into Jiyong's dark eyes and see something unreadable.

Your breath mingled with his, the air charged with something unspoken. His eyes flickered to your lips. Your fingers twitched at your side. And then——

You moved away, your temperature burning too high to handle. You could barely hear Jiyong exhaling sharply, running a hand through his hair because your heart was thrumming extremely loud in your chest, you were causing a racket in your own head with thoughts and fantasies.

What the hell was happening to you?

彡

The next week had passed much faster than you expected, and the release date had come and gone. It was globally renowned as a masterpiece. It was your masterpiece with Jiyong. Expected by many, it had been nominated for several awards, including Album Of The Year at the Grammys. And of course, it had won by a landslide. Jiyong's half of your shared acceptance speech astounded you.

"I dedicate this to my co-producer," he had opened with, voice steady. "She put up with me. She challenged me. And she’s the reason this album is what it is. She’s the most talented person I’ve ever met, and if I had to do it all over again she would be the first person I would run to in a heartbeat." The crowd cheered loudly after the rest of his speech finished, concluding with the typical thank-yous and acknowledgments.

After the Grammys had ended, the air in the vehicle back to Jiyong's home was heavy. You knew your time together had concluded, and now you needed to go home. This made you melancholy, knowing your paths did not cross paths at all before production commenced, and it would be unlikely that the both of you would converge often afterwards either. After you completed packing your things into your travel bag, you dragged your eyes to meet Jiyong's sadly.

"This was fun." You sighed, not even bothering to hide any fraction of disappointment or sadness in your voice. Jiyong swallowed.

"It doesn't have to be over, you know..." He replied nervously, confusing you. His face and body language mirrored that day when he showed up to your house with flowers and an apology. You held that morning dear to you, even if it felt like eons ago now.

"It is, isn't it..? The album has been made, now we have to go and live our lives," your right eyebrow raised. You were unsure of where he was going with this, you didn't exactly love when he was vague like this.

"What I mean is that it doesn't have to be... exactly how it was before production started..." His voice dropping low now, the confusion seeping deeper within you. "What I mean is that I want to continue to see you. I need you. As close as this," Gesturing vaguely, but you knew what he meant. He took a step forward, now standing as close to you as that night a few weeks ago in the studio.

"Closer than this," He whispered, and you catch his eyes flickering at your soft lips, the confession fanning across your blazing red cheeks. The familiar warmth was flooding your body, forming that same pit in your stomach. You can barely meet his strong eyes, the confusion long been gone, you understand exactly what he means now.

This time, however, you do not move away. Boldly and impulsively, you meet your lips with his. Everything else seemed to blur, as if the universe held its breath. It started soft, tentative, as if testing the waters of something both of you had wanted for months but couldn’t quite give in to. Your heart raced as you felt his warmth, the slight tremor in his hand as it brushed against your cheek, tracing the outline of your jaw like he’d been waiting for this touch too.

The kiss deepened, slow at first, but then urgent—like every quiet, stolen glance, every touch that lingered a little too long, was finally released all at once. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that mirrored yours, and you melted right into him, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as if you couldn’t get enough. The tension they’d both carried for so long dissolved in that single, searing kiss, leaving nothing but the raw, undeniable truth of how much they’d wanted this. And in that moment, it was as though time stood still, just for them. You pulled back just slightly, your lips curling into that oh so familiar smirk that Jiyong had grown to adore as you met his gaze, still breathless.

“Wow,” you teased, your voice low and dripping with amusement, “you really did need me, huh?” You let the words hang in the air for a moment, your fingers still resting on his chest, watching the flush spread across his face, satisfyingly.

Jiyong then grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief as he leaned in just enough to brush his lips against the shell of your ear. “Oh, trust me,” he murmured, voice rich with teasing confidence, “I’ve been dying to prove that for months.” He pulled back slightly, looking you over with a playful glint in his eyes. “But I guess now you know.”

thank you for reading!

fic number two! i thank you all eternally for the love on my first one, it really helps my confidence when i see you guys interact! so i thank you for that

my reqs are open if you want any kind of prompt in particular! i'm open to anything you got ;)

[anistarrose]

every time that I think about Tres Horny Boys, I'm so normal about them until suddenly I'm not anymore. it's just like:

"hehehe those are my protagonists alright! my favorite rude boys who get into Situations!"

until suddenly instead, it's:

"they were family for a hundred years, they were family for longer than one of them even should've been able to live in the first place, they were family who survived unimaginable horrors together, and then they forgot all of it. and then they found each other again. and became coworkers again, and even friends again. and then they remembered that they'd done it all before. that their lives up until this point have been made up of all different kinds of cycles, but that the three of them would find each other in every universe, in every lifetime. and that there's no one they'd rather have by their side, throwing themselves into portals to save each other, and cracking dick jokes, and failing skill checks to get into completely avoidable trouble and shenanigans." Tres Horny Boys mean the fucking world to me.

[stxxryvoid]

˚₊‧꒰ა Silly Things That They Do ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Genshin Impact

✧ Silly (and sometimes annoying) things that they do, but it's okay you love them anyway <3

✧ Featuring ✧ Childe, Heizou, Kazuha, Kaeya, Venti, Kaveh, and Itto x GN! Reader (Separate)

✧ Content Warnings ✧ Some swearing

✧ Childe

"Rise and shine sleepy head!" No further explanations needed.

He'll roll you up in your blankets for no apparent reason and then leave before you can escape the soft prison he put you in.

If you're going to jump on the bed he'll mf snatch the pillow and you fall on the bed itself.

When he's cooking he'll def shape the food into cute shapes.

He'd probably find something you're looking for and say he doesn't know where it is, but a while later will give it to you so you can praise him and give him a kiss.

Comes up from behind you and puts his hands over your eyes saying: "Guess who?"

Tells you to stay out of trouble when he's gone even though anything you do will never amount to the shit he does when he's working.

✧ Shikanoin Heizou

Kicks your feet under the table like he's a damn child.

Anytime he does something he expects a kiss as a reward.

He could literally open a jar you couldn't open and expect a big kiss and cuddles.

If you ask him to make you coffee he'll definitely make it!

You just won't get it unless you get up yourself because you only asked him to make it not bring it.

But if you ask him next time to bring the coffee he'll bring the whole ass coffee pot bc you didn't ask for it in a cup.

Will blame you for him waking up late on a work day when he's the one staying up late to work on cases.

Gets genuinely offended when you tell him no fried food bc it's not good for him.

He does a ">:(" and gives you one-worded responses for an hour.

He's not mad he's just the biggest tease to exist on Teyvat.

Start getting actually upset and he actually feels so bad and does anything to make it up to you.

✧ Kaedehara Kazuha

Comes up behind you without making a sound says "Hi." and scares the living daylights out of you.

If you catch him doing smth he'll use such poetic words you can't even understand to get out of the situation.

Starts spitting poetry out of nowhere.

It could be dead silent between the two of you and he gives you a romantic poem.

If he's cooking he will put food you do not like in there but hide it so well it tastes good to you.

While you're eating he'll stare at you like 🙂

Then you realized you fell victim to eating smth like brussel sprouts again.

If you're working he'll deadass show up in your office or smth.

Like how??

No notification from your coworkers and you js look up he's there.

Kazuha 10/10 horror movie killer material, silent footsteps, appears out of nowhere, unsuspecting, and has a sharp weapon

He knows so many cats like wtf

A cat comes up to him he pets it and says "Hi, cat name." AND DOES IT W SO MANY CATS??

✧ Kaeya

Okay I know I called Heizou the biggest tease but I changed my mind.

If Heizou is the king of teasing Kaeya is the all knowing, all powerful, all mighty god of teasing.

Flirts with you at the most random times.

Could be fighting some monsters he decides its the best time to try a new pick up line.

And it's always the best one's too, but he decides to save the horrendous ones for completely normal times.

He has no life.

With no cavalry to captain he can't be the cavalry captain so with nothing to do most of the time he's glued to your hip.

He'll play with your hair in front of someone no matter how many times you smack his hand away.

Claims he needs some random article of clothing on him fixed just so he can have your attention.

Y'know that thing where you bump your hip on someone to make them trip/fall over?

He does that.

If you stumble he'll act like he did nothing and turn the other way.

If you fall and it's hilarious he'll laugh before helping you up.

But if you fall and hurt yourself he'll actually feel bad and help you up and make sure you're okay. He's at your beck and call for the rest of the day.

He needs attention.

It's like taking care of a big cat.

✧ Venti

Also does the hip bump thing.

If you go to find him after he does some drinking he could be in the most random ass position ever.

Laying back down legs up against a building.

Passed out on some hay in a crate.

Sleeping under a bench.

You can't even be surprised anymore.

His feet are actually icebergs.

When he takes off them stocking things he puts his feet on you and your body temperature decreases by 20 degrees.

Styles his hair and yours in the most random ways.

If you wear makeup he took it once and ended up looking like a barbie doll got into a street fight and lost.

Sings you songs about the most random shit.

He turned milk and cookies into a song.

Meowing back at cats is normal.

But he barks back at dogs and really puts the enthusiasm in it..

✧ Kaveh

Plays with his food.

Moves it around on his plate to form shapes before he actually eats it.

Sometimes is drinking while he draws things and was painting once and ended up drinking the paint water on accident.

He spat it out and started rubbing his tongue while you and Al haitham were like 🤨

Thought all he loses are his keys?

Nah everything he's touched has been lost at least once.

He's still looking for some things that vanished into thin air.

He sometimes talks in his sleep.

Mostly about you, cats, dogs, and food.

He's actually so knowledgeable on beauty products??

You could be buying something for skin care and he snatches it and says "No."

"Don't buy this..." and yaps on for a good minute.

Then he'll go and pick up smth else for you and buy it for you and you're js left there shocked.

✧ Arataki Itto

This man is the epitome of silly.

He also cant whisper for shit.

Do NOT shit talk someone to him all of Inazuma will know within 30 minutes.

He has so many spare combs.

A backup comb for his comb a back-backup comb for the backup comb a back-back-backup comb for the back-backup comb and so on...

Don't give him hot sauce. Just don't.

Do NOT mess up his hair. He'll be ":(" the entire day.

He knows about lots of good food.

Can he cook any of this good food?

Hell no.

If you cook him anything he'll be so happy and eats every last crumb, would probably eat the plate to get all the macromolecules of the food.

(If he even knew what a macromolecule is)

If you make him something it's treasured forever and the only fingerprints on it are yours and his.

Definitely owns a diary somewhere.

-Stxxry

[sheerfreesia007]

Polar Opposites

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Word count: 2,912

Content warnings: Fluff, sexual harassment

Summary: Lee Know never thought that he was a good fit for you as your guardian angel the two of you are complete opposites. But when you’re put in danger he surprises himself by how quickly and easily he steps in for you.

A/N: This little series was all inspired due to @jellymochii brainstorming for her GaurdianAngel!Felix fic. Please go read her fic as well it’s a wonderful piece!

Pabo: fool

“You know this pabo is lying to you right?” He asks you with a tsk as his lip curls up distastefully. His eyes rake up and down your coworker who’s promising you that he’ll finish the project that you’ve both been assigned to at work if only you started it for him. He even offers to give you full credit for all of it if you just started it for him. Minho rolls his eyes as he hears you agree to start the project on your own and he sighs loudly with frustration, this would be the second time that his coworker has done this to you and he can’t stand it that you’re just going to let him do it again. “You always do this. You always put yourself in these situations.” he gripes out angrily as he sits on your desk slowly kicking his feet back and forth as he watches your coworker walk away with a smirk on his face. His eyes trail after the man as he watches him walk back over to his friends and high fives one of them as they all chuckle to themselves.

As he turns his head back to stare at you he watches as you continue to type on your keyboard with a soft smile on your face, your normal happy aura practically shining around you as you work causing him to sigh. He doesn’t understand how he got paired with someone so naive and clueless, it was beyond him at this point how to get you to understand that people were taking advantage of you. There were often times that he wished that he had been paired with someone with a little bit more wherewithal or street smarts. Someone a little more jaded so that they matched his attitude about people. 

But no, he had been paired with someone who seemed to see the good in everyone or at least tried to. Someone who seemed too sweet for this harsh cruel world. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t ever been shown how people take advantage of you, you had been let down time and time again by those you had trusted. Minho just couldn’t understand how you could freely give these people second chances until you finally took a step back. It was mildly infuriating to him because he could see how they wanted to manipulate you and take advantage of you but you always seemed to give them the benefit of the doubt.

“You know he’s making fun of you with his buddies right now. Calling you a gullible chump. Why do you do that to yourself?” Minho asks into the air as he leans back on the desk and looks back over to you. You’re happily typing away on your computer finishing up a project that you had already been tasked with. Sighing loudly Minho shook his head as he stood from your desk and began to wander around the office space. 

The floor that you worked on was mainly for statistics and data analysis, to Minho it was mind numbing and boring beyond belief. So when you were in your zone and working on whatever it was that you did for the company he would wander around the company getting the latest gossip on all of your coworkers. He went right over to the floor above yours because that was the floor for advertisement and they always had the juiciest gossip. He knew he could leave you for a few hours before needing to come back and check up on you since you normally kept to yourself so he happily made his way up to the advertisement floor to see what he could find out today about the employees there.

*-*-*-*

Hours later Minho was making his way back down to your desk since most of the advertisement employees had gone home for the evening. He had found out that there were two new couples on the floor, someone was trying to steal clients from a different team, and at least three were trying to sabotage a new employee in a managerial role. With a satisfied smirk Minho walked back onto your floor feeling rejuvenated with all the juicy gossip and the drama that he had learned about.

As he walked around the corner of your cubicle row he saw that you were pouring over something on your computer screen and saw that it was the project that your coworker had asked you to start for him earlier today. Stepping up behind you he tilted his head to the side and saw that you had already completed the project, he’s impressed that you had already finished it with so little time but as he peered over your shoulder he saw that you already had a template for this type of project since you had worked on one prior and were just swapping out the old information for the new information.

”Clever girl.” He whispered softly as he looked over at your side profile with an impressed look on his face. But then his eyes widened when you emailed the project over to your manager and the floor supervisor while including your coworker on the email. “Oh, have we learned from the last time?” Minho asked softly with a proud lilt to his voice. 

He knew that your manager was most likely out to dinner with all of your coworkers while the floor supervisor was still here at the office since he didn’t leave until much later in the evening. Minho felt a sense of pride fill him as he watched you smile softly at the computer screen before powering it down and packing up your things into your bag for the evening. 

Just as you were walking towards the elevators Minho following you at a lazy pace he noticed the floor supervisor exiting his office before looking up at you. Minho smirked softly watching as the supervisor looked out at the rest of the cubicles before turning back to your retreating back. Him and the supervisor followed you to the elevators before stopping behind you.

”That project you completed. It was excellent work.” The supervisor mentioned softly and you turned your head over your shoulder surprised with wide eyes.

”Thank you. I try my best at work.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders. Minho leaned against the wall next to the elevator hoping that the supervisor would be smart enough to put two and two together.

”I don’t see Bui here. Do you know where he is?” Asked the supervisor and you shrugged your shoulders once more.

”Probably out for a drink with the rest of the team. They normally all go for a drink after work.” You say without thinking and Minho practically grins feraly at your candor. 

“Even your manager?” He asked quietly and you nodded your head as the elevator dinged softly while the doors opened. You stepped onto the elevator and turned around to press the button for the first floor while Minho stepped in as well. You both stared at the supervisor who frowned at the floor before nodding his head. “You go ahead. I forgot something in my office. Get home safe, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said with a nod of his head and Minho smirked knowing that the man had figured out that you had done the project all on your own.

”Good job.” Minho said proudly before he watched you sigh and sink back against the elevator wall with a soft frown, your aura dimming slightly at the conversation you just had with the supervisor. He knows you don’t like confrontation but you’re able to stand up for yourself when you need to even though you don’t like doing it.

*-*-*-*

The bar is packed tonight and Minho feels as if he’s electrified with all of the auras of the people here at the bar. He’s been living it up dancing around a few of the groups of women who are here for the ladies’ night promotion the bar is holding. He looks over to where you are leaning up against the bar in your cute pleated skirt with the chains dangling from the waistband and your tight v neck halter top. He has to admit for someone who gives off the nerd vibe at work you know what fits your body well and you’re not afraid to show it off. It’s almost as if you have two completely different sides.

From his position he can see you happily chatting with your best friend as your other girlfriends are close by and a man is settled on your best friend’s other side. He smiles to himself when he watches you tilt your head back with loud laughter and sparkling eyes at whatever your best friend just said to you. He loves to see you happy like this, carefree and just enjoying life the way you’re supposed to. It makes a warmth fill his chest at seeing you so happy.

Suddenly your best friend says something to the man on her left before slipping away from the bar with a soft smirk on her face and Minho is instantly tensing at the movement. He starts weaving through the crowd to get to you when he sees the man slide along the bar to crowd you against it as you look after your best friend with a confused furrowed brow. Your eyes follow her as she rejoins your group of friends with a laugh and a flick of her hair over her shoulder before you turn and focus on the man who is now leaning into your space.

Minho’s moving faster as he watches the man lean in close and whisper something to you that makes your eyes widen for a second before narrowing in disbelief. The man raises his hand to slowly trail up your arm and you flinch away from him while shaking your head. Minho watches as you lift your hands to ward off the man who leans even closer to you and absolute rage fills him. This asshole obviously saw your head shake and the fact that you were flinching away from him  and raising your hands to ward him off but yet he still moved closer to you.

Just as the man reached for the back of your neck to pull you towards him as he puckered his lips Minho watched your panicked expression fall over your face. He reached your side feeling a tension fill him as he lunged forward and shoved the man back into the bar top. There’s an almost blinding light surrounding him as he restrains the man against the bar top before the lights above you, him and the man suddenly shatter and screams ring out in the air.

One of the bartenders hops over the bar top and grabs the man by his collar and drags him out of the bar as a bunch of people cheer and holler in approval. Minho turns to you only to see you staring straight at him, there’s glass in your hair and your eyes are wide as you gasp and pant softly while still staring at him. He feels a pit form in his stomach and he wonders if you can see him all of a sudden. But just as he’s about to move closer to you your girlfriends all swarm around you brushing the glass out of your hair and checking up on you to make sure you’re okay.

Minho watches as the girls all crowd you and your best friend begins to apologize incessantly as you stare at the space where Minho had been with wide unseeing eyes. For the rest of the night you’re quiet in your group. Your best friend tries to apologize all throughout the evening but you brush her off and don’t say anything to anyone else. He’s worried about you, you’re never this quiet and your aura has dimmed so much that he can barely see it around you. It worries him greatly so he keeps to your side for the rest of the evening not even letting you out of his sight for a second.

*-*-*-*

The taxi ride home is aggravating for Minho as he sits between you and your best friend who hasn’t stopped apologizing since you left the bar. She had promised to pay for the taxi and you had told the driver to drop you off first in a cold unwavering tone that had shocked not only him but also your best friend who quickly agreed even though the drive to your apartment would raise the price of the taxi ride for her.

You were still quiet throughout the whole ride as your best friend tried to apologize again and again. When the taxi had pulled up to the curb your best friend grew desperate and as you slipped out of the taxi she grabbed your hand to stop you as she peered up at you with wide teary eyes.

”I am sorry for what happened. I didn’t think he would do that to you.” She said softly. “But do you really think it’s fair that I pay for the whole taxi?” She asked and Minho scoffed loudly at her audacity. He rolled his eyes knowing that you’d probably agree to pay half of the ride because your best friend had always been a soft spot for you. You had always given her the benefit of the doubt and had always caved to her manipulation. But when you yank your hand out of her grip Minho’s eyes widen as he watches you glare down at her darkly.

”I heard what you said to that guy in the bar.” You said coldly and your best friend’s eyes widened in shock. “She’s an easy target. She’ll give you what you want. After tonight, the least you could do is pay for my taxi ride. Don’t call or text me again. I don’t want to see you anymore, you’re no friend of mine and I finally see it.” You tell her with a curl of your lip as you glare at her with hatred and betrayal shining in your eyes. 

You then slam the taxi door shut and turn before walking slowly towards your apartment complex not bothering to look back at your best friend. Minho is absolutely shocked by how you just handled your best friend or more over your ex-best friend. He never knew that you could be that confrontational or upfront with someone.

He follows you into your apartment complex and watches at how quiet you are still. Your aura is still so dimmed that he can barely see it but there’s still a soft glow around you. With a quick elevator ride up to your floor and then a simple trek down the hallway the two of you are entering your apartment in silence. 

He moves further into your apartment before turning around to watch you wearily slip your boots off and store them on your shoe rack before you hang up your jacket and then put your keys on the hook by the door. It’s only when you stand there after removing everything that your shoulders sag and tears slip down your face. Obviously the shock of the evening is finally hitting you and Minho stands there awkwardly wondering if he should comfort you in some type of way. He walks over to you and feels the same tension filling his stomach before he gently wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his embrace.

He’s shocked when you actually move into his embrace and you gasp loudly as well as your head whips up to stare up at him. But your eyes dart from side to side unable to see him and he sighs softly while still holding you.

”I saw you tonight.” You whisper softly in your quiet apartment and Minho stands there still holding you gently. “It was faint but in that blinding light I saw you. I even saw the outline of your wings, they’re beautiful.” You adamantly say. The two of you stand there quietly for a moment as your tears stop flowing down your cheeks and Minho feels the tension fade away. “Thank you by the way. If it wasn’t for you I don’t know what would have happened tonight.” You whisper and he looks down at you as you frown softly to yourself as your words settle within you. “I appreciate you looking out for me.” You say softly as a single tear slips down your face. “I hope I’m not too much of a bother to you.”

Minho stands there feeling a strong desire to protect you at all costs consume him and he suddenly understands why he was paired up with you. The two of you are complete opposites, he’s more jaded and cynical while you’re more gracious and emphatic. The two of you shouldn’t work together at all but somehow as he stands there still embracing you in the middle of your dimly lit apartment he can’t imagine being paired with anyone else. Leaning forward he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and you sigh softly right after alerting him that you felt his presence.

”You will forever and always be my bother.” He says softly to you and watches as a soft small smile slips onto your face as your aura starts to brighten around you.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

@channiesrightasscheek

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Safer to Kiss (part 2) - Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

read part 1 here!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 3236

Summary: the day after drunkenly kissing your best friend and coworker, Spencer Reid, the BAU catches a case. Lots of talking with other members of the team, general group dynamic chaos, and ✨Pining✨

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, normal Criminal Minds violence, maybe some mild cursing? Mostly just pining teehee

A/N: thank you so much to everyone who interacted with part 1! I am so pumped about this lil series, and part 3 is already started 🙈 I love love LOVE hearing from you guys, it makes me so happy and inspired to continue writing. 🥹 also not my gif, all credit to the owner bc LOOK AT HIS LIL FACE

————

Spencer’s hands were on your hips. Spencer’s hands were on your hips. Suddenly the three glasses of wine and 2 glasses of champagne were null and void, because you felt completely sobered by the time your mouth pulled away from his. The reality of the situation hit you like a bus - you, in a drunken stupor, had stupidly, idiotically, irreversibly kissed your best friend. Right on the lips. There was no excusing it as a friendly peck on the cheek.

Your entire face felt hot as you pulled away, and as Spencer’s hands retracted to his own space. You felt wobbly - okay, maybe you hadn’t sobered up - and when you were once again leaning against the railing of the stairs on your apartment building’s stoop, you blinked a few times.

Spencer blinked a few times, too, as if to process what had just happened. He’d tasted like red wine, which you saw he’d only had one single glass of tonight, and spearmint gum. The combination reminded you of spring.

Your best friend tasted like spring.

Your eyes widened, buggy, as if they might pop out of your head, and you opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Spencer spoke instead, with an earnest expression on his face. “Y/N-“

“Thanks for getting me home in one piece, okay, goodnight!” You rambled off, the words sliding off your tongue like they were on a luge, all blurring together into one, long megaword. You slid in behind the door and stumbled up to your unit before you could say another word.

You couldn’t believe yourself, replaying the moment on your stoop over and over as you locked the door, leaning against it and running your hand over your face. Spencer’s expression had been completely dumbfounded when you pulled away from the kiss. There was no doubt in your mind that he had been about to politely reject you, in that way that only he could do. I’m sorry, Y/N, but I think we’re better off as friends, he would say, simultaneously humiliating you and ripping your heart in half.

That’s why you’d cut him off, before he could say anything, before he could address the situation, before either of you had to acknowledge that it had actually happened.

You slept poorly that night, your anxiety getting the best of you. It was that look on Spencer’s face, how you just knew he was going to tell you in the kindest, most sensitive tone that he didn’t like that you kissed him. And your Nan’s voice ringing in your head - You’ll find someone someday, Button. You’ll be just as happy as your sister someday, Button.

You tossed and turned, and woke up with a violent hangover. All the coffee in the world was not enough to cure the aftershock of the night before.

Your stomach was in knots, a lethal combination of hangover ickies and irreversible mistake anxiety, and as you took a cab to work, you leaned your head against the seat behind you.

You flashed your badge to security and boarded the elevator to ride up to the sixth floor. The doors opened to reveal Penelope Garcia, clutching a stack of folders to her chest, waiting for you.

“Good morning, pumpkin,” Penelope flashed a smile, then grabbed you by the wrist, practically yanking you along behind her as she headed towards the conference room. Your head was pounding and while you loved Penelope with all your heart, in that moment, you wanted to throttle her. “You look horrible. We’ll discuss that later, and don’t even think about trying to internalize it and brush me off. I might not be a super magic genius psychic profiler, but I can tell when one of my love-bugs has had a wild night and I want details. Unfortunately for you, darling, you have a case. Hotch asked me to pull you directly into the conference room. Everyone’s waiting.”

Usually, when Penelope rambled on like that, you were able to keep up. In this weakened state, however, the words hit you like someone throwing putty against a wall, and it took a minute to process. You found yourself standing in front of the closed door of the conference room, with slackened posture and narrowed eyes. “Okay,” you managed to murmur before Penelope dragged you behind her, into the conference room.

You could feel the team’s eyes on you as you slumped into the empty seat. You avoided eye contact with everyone, especially Spencer, projecting to the room that you were not to be asked about your disheveled appearance and obvious headache. You spared a glance at Spencer. He looked perfect, as per freakin’ usual, with a purple button-up dress shirt and a dark tie over it. He sat up straight in his desk chair, as if last night hadn’t affected him in the slightest. You hated that.

Hotchner cleared his throat. “Let’s begin. Garcia?”

Penelope’s eyes lingered on you, fluttering from you to Spencer, and you watched as she seemed to resist the urge to say anything. “Ooookay,” she spoke, drawing the word out as she stood before the table. She used the TV remote to present the case’s info on the monitor. “We’ve got a local case today, my fine furry friends. Three men killed in three weeks,” you took a drink of the water in front of you as Penelope presented three driver’s license photos on the TV screen. “All bodies have been identified. Twenty-three-year-old Harvey Gibson, twenty-nine-year-old Kyle Moore, and twenty-eight-year-old Malcolm Greene. All three were found in alleys in downtown D.C, cause of death multiple stab wounds to the chest, stomach, and genitals.”

You choked on your water when you saw the last photo. Malcolm Greene, as in, Malcolm Greene, the guy you spoke to last night at the art gallery? You remembered spotting him from across the room, and thinking about how Spencer had said he’d gone on a date (albeit, an unsuccessful one) over the weekend, and you wanted to prove to yourself that you could be interested in other men. And then you’d gone over to Malcolm, spoke to him for an embarrassing two minutes and twelve seconds, and walked back to Spencer with a red face. And now he was dead?

Concerns about your relationship with your best friend aside, your eyes met Spencer’s across the conference table and the two of you seemed, for a moment, to fall back into your old dynamic, having a somewhat telepathic conversation with just your expressions.

That’s the guy…? Spencer seemed to say, his brows furrowed slightly.

A subtle bob of your head was how you responded. Yep, that’s him.

Spencer’s mouth formed a straight line, a mannerism that everyone around the table seemed to notice.

“Reid, Y/L/N, what’s going on?” Derek piped up, inclining his head to the side curiously. “Something you’d like to share with the class?”

Spencer’s mouth opened as if he were about to spill the beans, but he paused, seemingly deciding not to rattle off whatever he was going to say. Instead, he gestured to you.

“Spencer and I went to an art gallery after work last night,” you sighed, feeling your cheeks turn pink. “I may have… flirted, briefly, with Malcolm Greene.”

Derek let out a low whistle, and you saw Emily and JJ share an amused look. Rossi was even cracking a smirk.

Only Hotch remained as stoic as ever. “How long did you speak with him?” He asked.

“Two minutes, twelve seconds,” you and Spencer said simultaneously, and your eyes snapped to his across the table. You swallowed the lump in your throat and somehow felt your whole face turn even redder.

“Some smooth-talker you are,” Derek snickered, and you shot him a glare. Penelope, standing behind him, smacked his shoulder. “Did you get his digits that fast?”

“I don’t really see how that’s pertinent to the case,” you protested, sitting up straight and crossing your arms over your chest.

“It’s just like any other witness interview, Y/N,” Hotch reminded you calmly, shooting the rest of the team a warning glance. “Even the most minute detail could help.” He seemed to realize that you were humiliated, and that the rest of the team’s eyes on you were not helping the situation. “We can talk about it later,” he compromised.

“So, multiple stab wounds to the chest, stomach, and genitals, huh?” Rossi offered as a rough transition back to the topic at hand. Across the table, you heard Emily stifle a laugh.

“Yes, sir. All bodies were posed in a classic casket fashion, arms folded across their chests, eyes closed,” Penelope reported.

“Sign of remorse,” JJ noted, jotting it down on her pad of paper.

“Any cash missing from their wallets, or jewelry missing off their body?” Hotchner asked.

“No, sir, all wallets were found in the clothes of the victims, presumably where they had been kept untouched,” Penelope answered.

“So, not a robbery gone wrong,” Rossi concluded.

“The disposal of the bodies feels inconsistent with the cause of death,” Spencer pointed out, twirling his pen around his finger. His cadence was quick and pensive. “Multiple stab wounds to those particular areas of the body indicate intense rage at the time of the murder, disposing them in alleyways seems to be a choice of opportunity and convenience, but posing the bodies is a sign of remorse, like the UnSub suddenly realizes what he’s done and regrets it.”

“Do the victims have any friends or family in common?” You asked, crossing your ankles beneath the table.

“As far as my preliminary scans can tell, all three men were completely unrelated,” Penelope said. “The only common denominator is how they died and how their bodies were disposed of.”

“Not entirely,” Emily pointed out, standing up and using her pen as a pointer, gesturing to the three ID photos on the screen.

“Don’t these guys all look… strikingly similar?” Emily proposed. All men were white, with aquiline noses, dark hair, and dark eyes. “In fact, don’t they all look exactly like someone we know?”

You took in a sharp breath, just as Penelope let out a small gasp and Derek let out a soft chuckle. “They’re all pretty boys, like Pretty Boy,” Derek laughed.

“So our UnSub has a type,” JJ added.

Derek smirked. “The UnSub and Y/N both have a type.”

Your face turned bright red, and your jaw tensed. You felt Spencer’s eyes on you for a fleeting moment, and before you could say anything, Hotchner stepped in. “Let’s get going on this. Reid, JJ, and Morgan, I want you at the crime scene. Prentiss, Rossi, and Y/L/N, come with me to the local police precinct and interview family and friends. Garcia, too.”

There was an array of agreements murmured, and everyone began to disperse. You wanted to shake Derek by the shoulders for his little comment, especially after all the teasing you took when you realized the man you briefly spoke to last night was now dead.

You were on your way back to your desk when you felt a light touch on your elbow. When you saw it was Spencer, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Can we talk for a second?” He asked, and you shook your head.

Pointing pathetically to your desk, you responded, rather articulately, with, “The case…”

“Yeah, I know. The case. But, Y/N, we have to talk about last night,” Spencer said, looking down at you. Even though you were actually tall for a woman, Spencer still had at least four inches of height on you. Maybe five. “I mean, you just, like, escaped from me the first second that you could. Was it…?”

You furrowed your brows, confused as to what Spencer was trying to say. “Did you mean to kiss me?” He asked.

This was it. This was the out. He was giving it to you, whether he knew it or not. This was the opportunity to take it all back, to say it was a mistake. You could blame it on the wine, on your Nan’s phone call, on Malcolm - what was he gonna do, sell you out?

The chance to save your friendship with Spencer Reid was right there, and you stood there and you looked up at Spencer with your mouth open, words ready to spill out, when -

“Hey, Reid, you coming, man?”

Saved by the Morgan.

You saw Spencer’s jaw tighten, and he exhaled sharply. You were still frozen, unsure of what to say, of how to say it, so when Spencer simply frowned at you and then turned around to join Derek, you weren’t surprised.

You ran your hands over your face, still reeling, foggy from your hangover, thoroughly embarrassed from the entire situation.

“Y/N,” Rossi’s voice piped up, and you turned to see him with an arched brow. “C’mon, we gotta get going,” he gestured for you to follow him.

You sighed, your shoulders slumped, as you joined Rossi. You boarded the elevator with him, just the two of you, to head down to one of the Bureau’s black SUVs. “What’s going on with you?” Rossi asked, furrowing his brows.

In terms of group dynamics, David Rossi was like the team’s mother, in comparison to Hotchner, who was most certainly the patriarch of the BAU. You loved Rossi. He was kind, fairly level-headed, and he always stuck his neck out for the people he cared about. He also was pretty funny, and could make a killer lasagna. All those merits aside, you so did not want to talk about it.

“Not right now, Dave,” you shook your head, leaning against the wall of the elevator, running your palms down your thighs.

Rossi nodded understandingly, but you had an inkling he wasn’t about to just drop it. “I get it. Hungover, in a weird spot with Reid-“

“I’m not in a weird spot with Reid,” you corrected him, and Rossi smirked, knowing he had gotten you to crack. You shot him a (mostly) playful glare. “I had maybe a little too much to drink last night. And I maybe had, accidentally, perhaps…” you groaned, rolling your eyes at the idiocy of your actions the night before. “I kissed Spencer last night. It only lasted for, like, a minute, and right when it was over, I freaked out and went inside my apartment, and now things are just, like, weird between us. And I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, kiddo,” Rossi began, and you pursed your lips. He always hit you with a kiddo when he was about to tell you something you didn’t want to hear. “As a person who has been with many romantic partners-“

You feigned a gag.

Rossi just chuckled and continued. “I think you have to ask yourself - how do you want Spencer to react? Would you prefer to bury this and never speak of it again, or is this the catalyst you needed to finally tell him how you feel?”

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you mean, tell him how I feel?” You asked, playing dumb. Maybe Rossi was just grasping at straws.

“Oh, c’mon, kid, we’ve all seen how you look at each other. The only person who doesn’t know that you’re in love with Spencer is, well, Spencer.”

You felt your entire face flush. “You’re not serious,” you chuckled in disbelief.

Rossi looked at you and batted his eyelashes in a very feminine expression. The expression dropped and he said, “You make this lovestruck school girl expression at him at least once a day.”

“I do not!” You crossed your arms over your chest defensively, just as the elevator dinged, signaling your arrival to the Quantico lobby.

“Yeah, kid, you do. It’s pretty cute, actually. You’re like two lovesick puppies, chasing each other’s tails.”

“He does not think of me like that, Rossi,” you insisted indignantly, your voice taking a more hushed tone as the two of you walked at the same quick pace through the lobby, and outside towards the garage of Bureau vehicles.

The sun hit your face just as Rossi spoke again. “You’re such a good profiler, Y/N. How do you not see it?”

You decided not to dignify Rossi’s opinion with a response. Rather, you just shook your head and continued towards the garage to meet up with Prentiss and Garcia.

When you arrived at the police precinct, Garcia set up in the conference room, and you, Emily and Rossi each took turns interviewing the next of kin for the victims. You interviewed the mother of the first victim, Harvey Gibson.

An art student at Georgetown, steady boyfriend for three years he planned to propose to on Christmas, no criminal record, called his mother every other day. He was a good kid. Comforting his mother, walking her through all the questions the police had asked her three weeks ago — it was always a lot. But with your head already fuzzy and your mind on other Reid-related things, by the time you escorted Mrs. Gibson out of the police station and thanked her for her time, you felt heavy.

It didn’t help when the team reconvened about an hour later, sitting around a conference room at the local police station. You could tell Spencer’s eyes were floating to yours every so often, but you refused to meet them. You were working right now. You couldn’t let the revelation with Rossi distract you from your job.

Penelope took the lead, addressing the entire team. “So, our original thought of the three victims being unrelated actually has turned out to be incorrect,” she began. “Not only do all three of our victims look alike, but they all visited the same art gallery twenty-four hours prior to their murders.”

“Not the one we went to last night?” Spencer asked.

“No,” Penelope clarified. “From Emily’s discussion with Malcolm Greene’s brother, along with tracking the location of the other two victims’ cell phones prior to their deaths, we can determine that all three victims visited a different art gallery - The Restful Owl, just two blocks over from where you and Y/N went last night.”

“So, the victims all meet a certain physical description,” JJ recapped. “Brown hair, brown eyes, early-to-late twenties, and all visited The Restful Owl art gallery.”

“The gallery seems like a solid lead,” Hotch agreed. “All three victims were interested in art in some capacity - Harvey Gibson was studying art, Kyle Moore worked at an art museum, Malcolm Greene was a collector.”

“Perhaps the ruse the UnSub used was related to a particular piece or artist,” Spencer proposed, wrapping and unwrapping his fingers around his pen. “We should get the security tapes from each victim’s visit to the gallery, observe who they spoke to, how they reacted to specific pieces. Maybe the UnSub lured these men to the sites of their deaths by promising them a deal on a work, or something of the sort.”

“Good idea,” said Hotchner. “Prentiss, Morgan, follow up with the gallery. If there’s a specific person or piece all three victims stopped to interact with, I think our next step is pretty clear.”

“What’s that?” Penelope asked.

“We send in someone who just so happens to be exactly the UnSub’s type to the art gallery as bait,” Rossi concluded.

All eyes, including yours, moved across the table, landing on Spencer.