#team solo mid

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

i have several drafts from back in january comparing some of my old man yaoi ™️ ships which i decided against posting at the time because, quite frankly, they were thoughts no one would appreciate but me. two of the ships i know have some overlap, but the third didn't fit. a different genre. too niche.

but, with a new deadpool movie out and other ppl seeing the buggy parallels, i might as well get this off my chest:

shuggy is cablepool.

(not movieverse cablepool, to be clear. (i enjoy movieverse cable but he is not my mutant messiah.) comics cablepool.)

the dynamic is eerily similar:

we have an occasionally slapstick murderclown with obvious issues about the unusual way he looks, who presents himself as only having selfish motives but is (sometimes) lying about that, is very hard to kill, is disliked by ppl who have to work with him and popular with and beloved by ppl who don't both in-universe and out!

and his ex-bestie, a massively overpowered would-be martyr who is missing a flesh arm, has three scars over one eye, whose continued fondness for the murderclown post-breakup baffles everyone around him (murderclown included), and who refuses to elaborate on his motives for doing shady shit (including manipulating our beloved murderclown) except that he's doing everything for the sake of the future

like. tell me that's not them.

[t-u-i-t-c]

actually, i love power-ups that are exclusively for red, like that's the special little guy of course he gets a little treat :)

[dilfosaur]

well i haven't spilled my guts on tumblr since i was in college but it's the platform that's felt The Most Mine thru the years, so

let's talk!

i've had a huge chip on my shoulder that i wanted off before the year ends. very bad professional experience to follow

so firstly to get ahead of the speculating, i'm not naming names or anything. some of you will puzzle out who i'm talking about, but please don't bother anyone especially not on my behalf. i've worked hard to distance myself from them the past few months. shit happens, especially when you're a dumb bitch (that's me!)

but also this person was someone i considered a close friend and it makes me uneasy to possibly direct backlash at them. "then why post about it" bc i did intermittent work for them for over a year. this is just about that. so hear me out

basically it started off fine. i initially did some commission work for good pay, then was invited to become more involved with their team. unfortunately as i became more involved with their operation it became more disorganized over time. projects started then forgotten, constantly shifting schedules, lapsing communication between roles, confusing financials, and often inconsistent if not late payments. during mid 2023 i was doing colorist work, sometimes on a one day turnaround (all while also preparing drawfee's summer merch launch). the payroll wasn't set up correctly so i wasn't paid for that work for over a year (more on that later), tho to be fair that was largely my own fault at first as i just didnt realize the payments didn't go thru lol

i always consider myself decently capable of separating friendship and coworker-ship; i run a company with 4 wonderful friends, going strong for almost 5 years. that didn't really work out in this case. by early this year our friendship was on the rocks; work issues fed into personal issues and vice versa. so as the rest of this shit plays out, we had just had our first "big fight" which i felt very bad about and added to all the upcoming tension

a huge point of friction was the fact that i really wanted to work with them to make a music video for one of their songs. i've always wanted a chance to make a music video, was confident in a concept i came up with, and even did some concept art for the idea. everyone insisted they loved the concept and that we should do it, but we kept pushing it back for various reasons. it ended up becoming a huge sticking point for my frustrations, which i tried to express productively. TLDR, we eventually got around to discussing it seriously around april.

i planned to ask for $4000 with negotiable add-on for the whole project, which was my Friend Discount price. i was offered a contract for $1000 flat rate, as they insisted that was the only budget they had for it.

don't ask me why i signed it lol. i didn't even counter offer

there was some girlmath to it: i wanted an extra 1k for a student scholarship i provide every spring and well, there it was. but if i had to guess, i saw it as something i just couldn't back down from any more. i caused these folks- my friends- a lot of problems bc i dug my heels in so deep to chase this project, so fuck it we ball

i had about 4 months to solo a 3 minute music video. they wanted it done in august so they could release it before summer ended, bc "it was a summer song". to be fair i was asked if i needed them to pay for anything extra like assistants (which i would have to find and manage) but i was so immediately overwhelmed that i didn't wanna slow down to wait on that process lol. there was very minimal communication other than brief progress check-ins every few weeks. i did everything for that project myself: the original concept, character designs, storyboards, layouts, backgrounds. i even did the editing/compositing for the final cut of the MV. the only favor i did myself was limiting the amount of it that was actually animated to simple loops and motions. hardly my best work but it was work still done

i did it all in between my full time job. i ended up having to take nearly a month away from most of my drawfee duties (with the support of the others) to make the august deadline. i only ever asked for a 3 day extension (notice given about a week in advance, around the same time i was given the final song file lol). i finished the music video at 6am on the final deadline and recorded drawfee the next day on 2 hours of sleep

but it was done, coolies. the team was very happy with the final product. honestly, without getting into it, those were a very emotionally taxing 4 months. on the professional side, i regretted agreeing to the project and especially for the dogshit rate they offered. i felt like a hypocrite- as someone who always wanted to advocate for younger artists demanding their worth in a world that's getting increasingly hostile toward creatives, i failed myself

so when i met with the manager to discuss the release plan, i told them to do whatever worked best for them as i only had one request: i wanted my credit removed from the project

tbh... like... lmao this dramatic bitch right!! but really, i decided that bad practices only breed worse business. friends or not, it was unprofessional of me to accept such a low paying job so i just didn't want my name used in association. everything felt so muddled to me and i was just really tired at this point

the manager was very understanding and then offered that i could be paid more. they said that their team "was surprised" i accepted their low rate and they would be happy to up the amount. this confused me as the initial budget seemed pretty set and at no point between april and august was i offered a better rate. i knew these guys weren't made of money. so, i declined. i didn't want to put anyone out of their means over work that was already done and agreed upon. but more importantly, i was over the whole thing and didn't want to prolong the project with a contract renegotiation. i just insisted my name be removed

they decided to use a pseudonym (which i was fine with) so they could create a story about a character who made the MV (this sounds really convoluted but i don't know how better to put it without getting specific, sorry). that way if people asked about the credit, they could speak comfortably about it without signaling that something went wrong behind the scenes. ok, kind of a silly narrative imo but whatevs. and maybe this is where i finally went truly wrong but. yolo i guess

i gave the name "D. Smithee", D as in dilfosaur and Smithee as in Alan Smithee. look it up for fun film trivia ig! was it passive aggressive of me to reference that in this context? yeah, honestly. but i thought it was kinda funny and really not that deep. if it was a problem, i have other real, non-cheeky pseudonyms i regularly use. the manager accepted it and all i had to do was wait for them to post the video and i could leave the whole experience behind me

a week later i received a message from the manager that my pseudonym had been denied by the rest of the team bc one of them got the reference. fair enough lol. however, they decided that rather than ask for a different name, the were going to make one up for me that they liked and would "fit the [story]", without asking me

and that! is when i finally snapped!

i was so tired of giving them concessions at this point and having a credit made up for me without any input from me felt genuinely violating and unethical. i started to Panic bc of how stressed i was, and asked for my overdue payments (aka the $500 still owed on the MV, and the colorist rate from a year prior that was never paid even tho i reported it in january) to be scheduled ASAP as i was leaving the work discord immediately

i finally told them off for exploiting me throughout the months while i kept trying to just be nice and finish my contact cleanly. in return i was told that it was unfair to say that as i agreed to everything- i accepted their cheap rate and denied further payment so that was all settled, and it was ok to change my credit without my consent bc i "said they could do whatever with the release". i called bullshit, ended the convo as kindly as i could, and cried lol. they agreed to ditch the pseudonym and just give no credit. that night was the last i heard from anyone on that team

and the real kicker?

august came and went. then september, october... and they never released the music video

and i don't know why, because i was never contacted about it. i've been removed from the picture entirely i guess. 4 months and boatloads of stress. just. up in smoke. i don't know what i expected honestly

it's hard to not take everything that happened personally and as done in bad faith. i really do, honestly. i've had plenty of shitty deals in my almost 10 year art career, but it hits different from people you saw as friends. but to the point of "why not keep it private", i have never felt so disrespected as a professional as i did this past year. i can toy with money and credits and other formalities all i want, but my work- my ideas, my labor, my effort- is still so important to me. i felt like the biggest idiot for doing so much work, pouring so much of myself into a piece for someone's use, for what has amounted to nothing

but more importantly i hated myself for undervaluing my work, even if initially i thought this person was a trusted friend. money is not really an issue for me- drawfee is my main job and i am fine and comfortable. it's so important to pay artists appropriately but i often undersell my own work bc i value the collaboration and passion between creatives more than the reward. i think a lot of artists tend to feel the same, and it often makes us easy to take advantage of. it's so difficult to find the balance between passion and making a fair living, and i think there's some shame within ourselves when artists choose to prioritize that passion

i wanted to finally get all this off my chest bc i was ashamed of every choice i made. things like this happen all the time i'm sure and hiding these mistakes only make it easier for it to happen to other people

tldr always value your work and protect your passion from people who just see it as a product. and don't give cheeky pseudonyms i guess lol

(and again pls don't bother anyone involved about this. a lot of chaos has left my life as i moved past all this, and this is me closing a door without opening new ones hopefully lol)

this shit was truly

so ass.

but i'm moving past it now

but on a nicer note. outside of all of this nonsense, i made lots of good memories this year. i'm truly so grateful to the many wonderful people in my life who keep me going even when i fuck up big time!

and thank you to all of you strangers who, despite everything, give me the time of day. especially if you read this whole thing. you're a real one :')

happy new year!

[shouyuus]

─── Ⅵ FIGURE EIGHTS

violet; 28,888 words; fluff and smut (at the end), semi enemies to lovers, fake dating, hockey!vi x figure skater!reader, ice dancers!meljayce, miscommunication, smau-intermissions, toxic ex!cait, simpgirl!vi, slowburn, the gays r bad at feelings, lots of making out that almost leads to something, emotional edging (for YOU lol), fingering (both receiving), thigh riding, oral (r!receiving), slightly unhinged!reader, no "y/n"

summary: a hockey player and a figure skater kind of, sort of, not really, but then actually fall in love. what could possibly go wrong? (narrator: apparently, everything.)

a/n: YALL. yall. YOU. ALL. lmfao. i can't believe i finished this (i say, after writing any fic longer than 5k words). but i TRULY doubted for a second that i would bc as i kept writing, it kept... getting longer? i hope that this doesn't drag, and that you guys like it. it's really a fucking labor of love. like heavy emphasis on the labor. shoutout to @vifilms for being my emotional support, and to my irl bf for actually physically reading through like 90% of this fic out LOUD with me to make sure the dialogue doesn't sound awk. BUT ANYWAYS. pls enjoy and PLS tell me what u guys think!!!! the smau fake texts won't start till chapter three, but ! it's my first time making like.. fake texts so sldkfjsd.

TABLE OF CONTENTS ━

prologue: party people

chapter one: shut up and kiss me

chapter two: fists to a knife fight

chapter three: love's dream

chapter four: for cup's sake

chapter five: don't hate the player (suggestive)

chapter six: six (nsfw)

─── TAG YOU'RE IT .ᐟ.���

pls comment below if you'd like to be tagged for this series! :) if you're already on my vi-taglist via my normal taglist link, then you're all good. if you only wanna be tagged for this series, comment below! pls pls have your age visible somewhere on your blog as this will be an 18+ fic!!!! thank you!!!

prologue: party people

─── Ⅵ IT STARTS WITH A GAME of spin the bottle — a college party post-game, the home team the exhalant victors, the crowds of adoring fans the worshippers at their beer-tower altars, doing keg stands and shot-gunning cans of cheap bud lite for an approving grin or a wink.

“Remind me why we’re here again?” you ask, jerking back as a drunken guy nearly topples into you, the red solo cup in his hand sloshing over onto the already sticky linoleum floor.

Mel sighs, “Because, darling, you promised me that you’d come out at least once if me and Jayce made it through the Challenger Series this year.”

She tugs you behind her, weaving through the crush of bodies till the cramped living room area opens onto a much larger patio, the mid-autumn chill cooling your skin.

“It was a joke,” you say, whining slightly even as Mel grabs what looks like an unopened hard cider from the table and presses it into your hand.

“Yes, and one that hurt my feelings,” Mel sniffs, turning her nose up, though a grin teases at her lips, “so to make up for it, you now have to stay at this party and have some semblance of a good time.”

And that was three and a half drinks ago, because sometime between then and now, you’ve found yourself pulled into an unwitting game of spin the bottle with what seems like half the entire hockey team, sitting next to Mel, her boyfriend Jayce on your other side, chatting animatedly with one of the girls hockey girls. You overhear the words “creatin” and “Bulgarian Squat” and decided that it’s time for you to tune out of the conversation.

“Vi, it’s your turn!”

Vi, your thoughts linger over the sound.

It’s a pretty name.

You glance up at the girl sitting across from you, Number Six — you’ve always known her as that, what with the tattoo on her cheek (there were rumors that it’s actually not real and she just reapplies one of those temporary tattoos every two weeks) and the fact that it’s her jersey number, it’s really not too hard to remember.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, laughing as she reaches for the empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle. Her right hand’s bandaged up and you can’t help staring at it. When you look up next, it’s to catch her watching you, your eyes meeting in a startling clash of raw contact — the cacophonous noise of the party dulling out to a thin whine somewhere at the back of your head as you stare at her and she stares right back.

You’d never noticed that her eyes, even in the dark, beneath the dim, flickering patio lights, reads mourning-dove blue, so subtle it’s almost gray, so sharp as she takes you in that your stomach drops from inside you. She smirks and twists her fingers expertly around the bottle, setting it whizzing.

You tear your eyes away, your breath sent astray in your chest by just that look alone. You frown at the spinning bottle, your mind abuzz with fragmentary thoughts you can’t quite string along for long enough to form a full sentence — eyes… her lips are pretty… wasn’t she dating… someone? who??? what’s her name again? something pretty —

“— right, ice princess, you ready?”

“Huh?” you jerk your eyes up from the bottle to find everyone watching you. From your left, Mel nudges you with a sanctimonious grin, her eyes flickering down to the bottle and back up towards —

“Go on!” she hisses, even as you blink uncomprehendingly down at the bottle pointing right at you.

Across the circle, Vi’s questioning smirk is all the answer you need as your alcohol-addled brain finally puts together the pieces.

“R-right…” you push up onto your knees, but something holds you back, a niggling feeling in the back of your brain as Vi’s smirk grows wide and she jerks her head towards the living room.

“Want a bit of privacy? Or… would you prefer an audience?”

Half the circle wolf-whistles at the insinuation, the other half roll their eyes, leaning back on their elbows as if to settle in for a long night.

You lick your lips, feeling your mouth scald dry.

“Privacy. Please.”

You follow Vi stiffly from the patio back into the stuffy house, her fingers closing around your wrist as she tugs you behind her through a long hallway splitting off from the main living room, branching into a series of what look like bedrooms. Half the doors are closed, illicit sounds echoing out from behind them, but Vi finds an empty one near the end of the hallway and pushes it open, leading you inside.

“Oh wow,” you say, looking around the room. It’s a typical fratboy’s room, full of suggestive posters, the floor littered with questionably laundered clothes.

“What, not your ideal setting for a makeout-sesh with a stranger?”

You frown as your eyes slingshot back to Vi, her standing feet from you, hands tucked loosely into her pockets, watching you with dark, firefly eyes.

“Thought we were just supposed to kiss once.”

Vi chuckles, closing the distance between you in a few quick strides, crowding you up against the closed door.

“Sure. We can do that. Or…” she makes no effort to hide the way her eyes flicker down to your lips, trailing back up in a line of fire that sizzles against your skin. “I could show you what a real good time looks like.”

Your breath crystalizes in your chest, and the strange, tickling feeling traces down the back of your head till it gathers, hot and unconscionable at the nape of your neck — a spin-click wheel of half-formed thoughts and images ticking by behind your eyelids as you try to remember why the hell this feels so wrong.

And then, it clicks, and you press a hand to Vi’s chest just as she’s leaning down to graze her lips against yours, the friction so delicious you almost lose your train of thought.

“A-are you sure this is a good idea? Didn’t you just break up with that track and field girl? Caitlyn?” you blurt out, a culmination of all the snippets of whispered conversations and half-caught glances of the pair of them across campus. The It-Girl Couple, people called them, the hockey team star and the track and field genius. They were hard to miss, and even harder to forget.

A moth-wing-flicker of emotions crosses Vi’s face as she takes half a step back, her expression morphing into one of shock, and then hurt, and finally, hard-lined disgust as she looks down at you with a thin-lipped grimace.

“Oh fuck you.”

She yanks you from the door, storming out without a backwards glance. You catch yourself against the half-made bed, your breath coming in heaving pants as your head spins. Guilt curdles in the bed of your stomach like spoilt milk, and it only takes you half a second to realize that of all the things to say, that probably was the worst possible choice.

You’d heard mention of the breakup, even if you didn’t have any stakes in this so-called game. It was harsh and messy and loud, and it had spilled across campus like a backed-up toilet, oozing foulness and stank across the grounds till not a single person was left unstained in the aftermath.

“Wait —” you stumble after Vi, but it’s too late. By the time you reach the patio doors, she’s already settling back into her place in the circle, an easy grin slung across her lips.

You swallow, pushing through the door to scurry over to Mel’s side. Mel beams at the flush in your cheeks, convinced (just like the rest of the circle) that it’d been one hell of a kiss, judging by how entirely breathless you are.

“Damn Vi, you gotta learn how to go easy on them figure skaters, hm?” Margot smirks, her eyes glittering as she looks you over, “look at the poor darling — she can barely breathe!”

Everyone laughs, and Vi flashes a convincingly satisfied smirk, shrugging up a shoulder. You glance at her, only to shiver at the arctic ice behind her gaze as your eyes catch once more.

“What can I say? Easy isn’t a setting I come programmed with.”

You duck your head as Vi casts you one more frigid look before turning to laugh at something a teammate has just said, and the circle devolves into good-natured banter and pocket conversations. You gulp around your too-dry throat and pluck Mel’s drink from her hand, tossing the rest of it back in a single gulp. She blinks at you, eyes wide.

“Darling, are you —”

“I — I’m fine just — it’s — I think I’m gonna head back.”

Mel frowns, “Are you sure? I mean —” she looks towards where Vi’s been pulled into an impromptu arm-wrestling match with some dude from the football team, “you could try and —”

You shake your head, “No, I — I think I’m good. I had a good time, I just —” you run a hand through your hair, “I’ve got practice tomorrow and Amara’s gonna murder me if I get there late.”

Mel stares for a second before relenting, a soft sigh on her lips.

“Alright, alright — go on then. I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow at practice, yes?”

You give her a tight-lipped smile, reaching out for a quick hug before ducking out of the party, skirting the edges of the growing mosh pit forming in the living room till you finally find yourself out on the front steps again.

You close your eyes for a second, pressing your back to the frat house door, feeling the dull thump of the music inside reverberating through the thin wooden frame as you breathe in and out.

You can still taste the heat of Vi’s breath on your lips, feel harsh sting of ice as she’d caught your eyes after. The chill air, once refreshing, pebbles your skin and an involuntary shiver shakes down your spine. You wrap your arms around yourself and give your head a good shake.

Whatever, you think, stepping off the porch, casting your eyes up at the star-strewn sky, a whisp of warm breath fogging up the air before you.

Not like it’ll matter. Bet she won’t even remember me after tonight.

taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent @lewd_alien @jack-frost-2010 @starsfortaylor @onesockcat @lesbian-useless @armins-slvt

[girlygguk]

WINTER THINGS ⋆ JJK

it’s jungkook’s favorite time of year and the only thing on his list is you. getting to finally feel you, see you, meet you outside of his computer screen. now it’s happening. and, god, you’re even prettier in person.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 6 of 6

pairing jungkook x gf!reader

genre fluff, smut (18+ mdni)

content jk 21 | yn 21, golden retriever bf x black cat gf, long distance established relationship, communications major jk, art & design major oc, they’re both gamers who met online, way too much valorant talk, first time meeting in person, simp jk, down bad jk, loser jk, emotionally reserved oc, but jk makes her feel at Ease, kissing, tiddy sucking, pussy fingering, pussy eating

word count 4.8k

banner by the amazing @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

author’s note i actually have sooo much more i could do w this couple but the holidays got in the way and i had to wrap er up 🎁 thank u guys sm for all the love ❤️ hope u had a lovely & merry merry christmas!!! :*

Jungkook didn’t mean to die.

He was mid-round, lurking through a corridor, carefully timing a push when a headshot clipped his ass clean. The disappointed groans of his teammates crackled through his headset, but Jungkook barely noticed. Any other time, he would’ve had the guy first. Easy.

But any other time, he didn’t have his gorgeous girlfriend getting ready right there on his very own phone screen.

Your iPad was propped up against one of your hand-painted jewelry boxes, angled just right to catch you sitting in front of your vanity. From the moment you started your makeup, Jungkook had been distracted. Now, all his attention was on you—completely, helplessly.

You were brushing mascara through your lashes, lips slightly parted as you tilted your head back to reach the roots. A soft breath escaped you, and Jungkook’s hand slackened on his mouse. His fingers twitched as his gaze followed the curve of your pouty lips, the slope of your neck, and the fabric of your winter sweater where it clung to your soft figure.

He shifted in his chair, clearing his throat lightly as the familiar throb in his sweats made itself known. “Shit,” he muttered, tugging at his headset with one hand while the other hovered uselessly over his keyboard.

“Hm?” Your soft, distracted hum broke through the static of his team chat. Your mascara wand hovered mid-swipe as your big eyes flicked toward the camera, your head tilting slightly. “You okay, baby?”

Jungkook scrambled to confirm his mic was off. “Yeah, baby,” he rushed, blinking rapidly as if it might snap him out of the daze he’d fallen into. “You look so pretty.”

Your lips curved faintly, but your attention had already drifted back to your reflection. “Thank you,” you murmured, leaning closer to the mirror to perfect the flick of your eyeliner. Jungkook didn’t respond. He just sat there, helpless, watching you like you were the only thing in his world. And you were.

His match was long forgotten, his fingers frozen on his mouse as he soaked in the sight of you framed by the soft purple glow of your LED lights. Dressed in that dark red sweater, getting ready for a friend dinner, you were miles away from him, and still, he felt like he could reach out and fucking touch you.

Three days. Three more days and then he’d finally be on a plane, finally getting to seeing you in person. The thought made his belly rumble with excitement.

It had taken over a year to get here. To go from the quiet, indifferent girl who solo-queued Valorant lobbies to the girlfriend who now wore his hoodies that he sent her in the mail because they smelled like him.

He could still remember the first time he met you. That random day during last winter break when he and his best friend Yoongi had been running games all day and decided to play one more before calling it a night.

You were in that game.

You barely said a word, only responding if spoken to, only comming when absolutely necessary. You were focused, unfazed as you carried the entire team through the match.

Jungkook had always been a hopeless simp. But with you, it was something else entirely. From the moment he heard your sweet, honeyed voice carrying a tone that made it clear you couldn’t give a fuck less about him... yeah, he was a goner.

That game, he’d pushed too far, not expecting the two opponents waiting around the corner. You had been lurking behind Jungkook and killed both enemies before they could even touch him. Your voice was calm, detached, as you told him to follow you.

And he did. Of course he did.

He could still hear the confused hum you’d let out into the mic when he froze on B site, waiting for further instructions from you. As if this wasn’t the second highest rank in the entire game. As if he hadn’t sunk hours into perfecting his gameplay.

“Plant the spike...” you’d said, the slightest hint of frustration in your voice.

Yoongi had laughed. Jungkook had blushed.

“JJ?”

You were propping your iPad against the edge of your drawer now, stepping back from the screen. Jungkook blinked, his brain stuttering as you came into full view. You were wearing a short black skirt paired with the same sweater that had been driving him insane since the moment you pulled it on and let him watch. The hem of the skirt swished lightly as you twirled, tilting your head as you gestured toward yourself.

“Do you like it?” you asked, turning to show how the fabric skimmed over your upper thighs.

Jungkook stared, his big doe eyes wide and dazed. He nodded quickly as heat climbed the back of his neck.

Your lips curved into a soft smile. “I’ll take that as a very much,” you teased, turning back toward the dresser. You reached for a bracelet, the soft jingle filling the silence as Jungkook tried to scrape together a coherent thought.

“You’re beautiful,” he managed finally, as his fingers flexed restlessly on his desk. “So pretty, baby. What time will you be home?”

You glanced back at the camera, your expression softening. “Thank you, honey,” you said, slipping the bracelet onto your wrist. “Probably around ten? I’ll call you when I’m back.”

Jungkook nodded instantly, his lips lifting into a broad smile as he watched you lean down to slip on your Docs. “Three days,” he chirped.

Your smile deepened, that rare, quiet smile he’d spent months trying to pull from you. “I know, baby,” you said softly, your tone warm as you slipped on your other shoe. “I’m very excited.”

“Me too.” His grin broadened, his cheeks warm and flushed as he flicked his team chat off entirely, ignoring the sound of his teammates yelling at him for going idle. “So excited, baby.”

You picked up your phone, tucking it into your bag before glancing at your iPad one last time. Your soft smile lingered as you said, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay, baby,” Jungkook replied softly with a dumb smile.

You blinked down at your device, gaze raking over your boyfriend’s pretty, dazed face before a light laugh escaped your lips. “I love you, JJ.”

His eyes widened, and he almost smacked his forehead for nearly letting you go without saying his favorite three words. “I love you more, baby. Have fun.”

Jungkook watched until the call ended, leaving him staring at his reflection in the black screen of his phone.

Three days. Three more days.

Your fingers tapped idly against the side of your phone, clenched tightly in your hand. Your gaze flicked quietly around your surroundings as your free hand fiddled with the hem of your jacket. You glanced down once more to double-check the text he had sent ten minutes ago.

just landed baby ❤️ waiting for my luggage

You had responded with your exact location by the pickup terminals, a message he had heart-reacted to almost immediately. He shouldn’t be too far now.

Still, the minutes felt endless. You brushed an invisible speck of dust off your black mini dress, your fingers moving to tug at an imaginary thread on your sheer stockings.

Then the sound of a bag dropping beside you jolted you. You spun on your heel and came face to face with the boy who had taken over your life for the past year.

Jungkook stood less than an inch away, a blue puffer jacket shaping his broad frame as the widest grin split across his face. His hair was fluffy, pushed back just enough to reveal his soft forehead, and his big doe eyes sparkled as they took you in.

Your heart lurched, and before you knew it, you were smiling wider than you thought you ever would. Then you were moving. Your hands slid to the sides of his neck, pulling him down into a kiss before you could think to stop yourself.

Jungkook melted instantly. A soft groan escaped him as his hands slipped beneath your unzipped jacket, gripping your sides to pull you flush against him. His lips were warm, pressing slowly against yours—soft, sweet, perfect. Just like him.

When you pulled back, his brow creased slightly, and his lips instinctively chased yours. You didn’t deny him, letting him press another kiss to your mouth. Then another. And one more. His lips lingered, each kiss slow and gentle, leaving your eyes closed and your heart racing.

When he finally pulled back, it was with a soft inhale against your lips before he grinned again. “Hi, baby.”

You smiled at the sound of him out of breath, and when Jungkook opened his eyes, his heart stuttered at the sight of it. It was so much prettier in person.

“Hi, JJ. Merry Christmas Eve.”

Your apartment was quiet as you unlocked the door and flicked on the light switch. Jungkook followed closely behind, his gaze sweeping over the room as you led him in.

The walls were dotted with your paintings—abstract swirls of color, faces, little scenes that made him smile. He even recognized a few pieces from your video calls—the tiny clay bunny on your coffee table, the stack of notebooks filled with sketches you showed him if he begged cutely enough.

Jungkook grinned as he stepped further inside, dropping his bag on the ground near the entryway while you shut the door behind him. He toed off his sneakers next to the mat as you leaned down to unzip one of your boots, your fingers fumbling a little with the zipper. You wobbled.

Straight into him.

Jungkook caught you immediately, his hands firm as they wrapped around your sides. His heart stuttered in time with your misstep, his chest tightening as your loosely curled hair spilled toward him, brushing over your shoulder. You looked up at him, your voice soft as you murmured, “sorry.”

He barely heard it. You were so close, he could smell you—the warm, sweet honey scent of your skin mixed with a perfume that reminded him of dark berries.

“You smell so good.”

You’ve straightened now, fully upright as you met his gaze. His hands still lingered under your jacket, the heat of his palms seeping through the thin fabric of your dress.

“Yeah?” he asked softly, his smile faint and dreamy.

His eyes dropped to your lips. Glossy, the faint sheen of lip balm somehow still intact despite all the kisses he had stolen in the back of the Uber when the driver wasn’t looking.

“Yeah,” you confirmed quietly, your lashes lowering as your gaze traced his features, taking him in like you were seeing him for the first time.. “Smell just like the hoodies,” you murmured, “but better. Stronger.”

Jungkook swallowed hard, his touches growing greedier. His hands slid a little lower down your sides as he leaned toward you, his pretty nose brushing yours.

“Did you bring more?” you asked, your words a soft breath against his mouth.

“Yeah,” he replied with a nod, his lips hovering so close you could almost taste them. “Three. Is that enough?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, and then you couldn’t wait anymore. You closed the gap.

Your hands slipped up to wrap around his neck, and Jungkook let out a soft noise that vibrated into your mouth. His hands slid further under your jacket, palms pressing firmly against your waist as he pulled you flush against his body. His lips parted against yours, and when your tongues brushed, the softest, sweetest sound escaped you. Ssstraight to his cock.

Your fingers twisted into the back of his hair, and Jungkook groaned pathetically into the kiss. His hands slid down from your hips to the back of your thighs, lifting you to wrap your legs around him. When your tongue lapped his again, your head tilting to taste more of him, the whimpery noise he let out was pitiful. You loved it.

Neither of you spared a thought for the boot that slipped from your foot as he carried you until your back met the door with a soft thump. The kiss was messy, noisy, desperate as you both moaned into each other’s mouths. It felt like you were making up for all the nights apart, all the times you had to settle for fucking yourselves over FaceTime, getting off together but never really together.

Your mouth broke away from his, your head falling back against the door as you panted softly. Jungkook didn’t miss a beat, his lips eagerly brushing along your jaw as his hips pressed forward. The hard line of his cock rubbed against your pussy through the denim of his jeans, pulling a shaky breath from your lips.

“I can’tt, baby,” he murmured, his voice strained, whiny if you will. His hips rolled again as his hands gripped you tighter. “You’re so soft. Smell so good. I fucking can’t.”

“Why are you holding back?” you breathed, your voice trembly as your hips ground against him, forcing a choked sound from his lips. “We’ve been so patient, honey... You can have it now.”

Jungkook cursed under his breath before his mouth was back on yours, needy as he licked into you, relishing in the sounds you gave him. His greedy hands roamed, sliding under the hem of your dress, up the soft skin of your thighs, until they landed where your stockings ended. Your ass.

This fucking ass.

The ass he's stared at so many times through so many screens. The ass he's watched jiggle just a little as he jerked his cock while you held a vibrator to your clit, your hips shaking as you came for him. The ass he's praised and admired in all the pairs of panties you tried on just for him—ones he had ordered for you, or ones you bought yourself, saying you had another haul to show him if he wanted to see.

If he wanted to see? God, it was like you didn’t even know him sometimes.

He's fantasised about this ass more times than he could fucking count. And now, it was in his handsss.

Jungkook’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into the fatty flesh as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your nails scraped lightly against the nape of his neck, swallowing his little whine as you grinded harder against his crotch.

“Fuckk, baby,” he breathed against your tongue, arms tightening around your bum to lift you off the wall. This time he carried you to the couch with hurried steps, your jacket slipping further from your shoulders with each movement.

When he reached the couch, he laid you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as he hovered above you. His chest rose and fell in rapid pants, his lips red and swollen. He sat back on his knees, dragging a hand through his messy hair, the glow of his flushed skin making him look unreal. For a moment you wonder if this really was happening. If he really was here.

You sat up slightly, shrugging off your jacket and tossing it to the ground as Jungkook’s hands found your remaining boot. He tugged at the zipper, easing it off your foot before tossing it to join the growing pile of clothes on your fuzzy, multicolored rug—the rug he mentally noted to tell you he really likes when you two were done.

His gaze flicked to yours briefly before he grabbed the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head. The fabric caught slightly at the back of his neck, making him huff softly before it joined the pile. So cute.

Your eyes immediately dropped to his broad chest, and a teasing smile curled your lips as your gaze caught on his nipples, the small, dark buds already hardening from the slight chill of your flat. You couldn’t help it; you’d always had a fascination with them—something he learned quickly during your video calls that turned dirtier, filthier, the more you did them.

Jungkook caught your look, his lips parting as his chest rose in shallow breaths. “Don’ttt, baby,” he grumbled, a flush spreading from his neck to his round cheeks.

You just smirked, leaning back against the couch, letting him take you in. Your dress was gone, leaving you in nothing but your bra, panties, and the cute little red-and-green anklet socks you’d worn under your stockings. For some reason, they made his cock swell even harder in his pants.

What? He loves Christmas...

Jungkook leaned down to find your lips, his hands pressing into the cushion on either side of you. His body slotted perfectly between your legs, his hips grinding into yours as he groaned softly into your mouth. You could feel his cock harden against you, pressing deeper into your warm core, and a moan slipped out, legs tightening around his waist.

His lips trailed down, kissing along your jaw, then your neck, stopping at the hollow of your throat to suck. His gaze dropped further, locking on your chest. He stilled, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his throat bobbed with a hard swallow.

“Godd,” he muttered, his voice thick with pure awe. His eyes flicked up to yours briefly, pupils blown. “You’re so fucking…”

But he couldn’t even finish. Instead, he leaned down, his lips brushing the tops of your boobs as his fingers found the clasp of your bra. He unhooked it hastily, the straps sliding down your arms before he pulled it away, tossing it to the ground with a fucking gulp.

Jungkook exhaled heavily through his nose, his eyes drinking in every bit of your soft, bare skin. He wanted to ask if he could take a picture... but that thought could wait. God, it had to wait.

“Fuckkk,” he said again, this time louder, a soft groan escaping his lips. A quiet laugh escaped yours in response as his head dipped right down.

He kissed the swell of your breast, his big, warm tongue flicking out to circle your nipple slowly. His pouty lips closed around it, suckling softly, and he let out the most whimpery sound you’d ever heard from him—and your boyfriend had made a lot of those.

His hand cupped your other breast, his thumb brushing over the hardening bud before rolling it gently between his fingers. A quiet whine slipped from your lips, your back arching as his tongue swirled and flicked. His mouth grew hungrier, movements more eager as he switched sides, long fingers kneading the plush flesh while he nipped, licked, and lapped.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, pushing more of your boob into his mouth, which he accepted with a happy choke. Your breaths came faster, your hands tangling into his hair as he detached from your nipple with a soft pop. Wet kisses trailed lower, across your ribs, down your soft stomach. His lips brushed over the flesh there, his tongue darting out for a little taste, before he reached waistband of your panties.

He glanced up at you with wet eyes and shiny lips, a soft flush painting his cheeks. His fingers hooked into the lace of your panties, quickly pulling them down. The air against your core made you shiver, and Jungkook groaned softly at the way your hole clenched in response to the cold.

His hands adjusted your thighs on either side of his head, ensuring you were comfy, and when you smiled down at him, he beamed back before pressing a little kiss to your inner thigh and dipping down.

The first swipe of his tongue was slow, dragging right up your folds before circling your clit lightly. Your thighs tensed immediately, a little cry spilling from your lips as your hands clutched tighter into his hair.

He groaned into you as his hands spread your thighs wider, holding them open against the couch when they treatened to close. His tongue moved with one goal, dragging down and back up, his throat bobbing as he swallowed every drop of slick you were making for him.

“Sh-shit, baby,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his mouth closed over your clit, sucking noisily. “Shittttt, JJ—”

You couldn’t finish the thought. The way Jungkook switched between licking and sucking, his big nose pressing firmly against your clit, made any coherent words evaporate. He buried himself deeper into your pussy, breathing you in as he ate. Like, literal deep inhales. You could feel them.

Your hips bucked up instinctively, a movement that pulled a surprised, happy whine from his throat. He dragged his tongue down, dipping it into your little clenching hole, before sliding it back up to circle your clit with eager, sloppy flicks. Your jaw tilted up, your head pressing harder into the couch cushion as the pleasure bloomed in your belly, your thighs trembling on either side of his head.

“Is it fucked that this is exactly what I thought it would taste like?” Jungkook mumbled through his mouthful. He pulled back just enough to breathe the words, his pretty mouth and chin glistening, tongue darting out again, lapping at your slick like he couldn’t fucking stop. “It’s so fucking good, Y/n. God, have you tried this, baby?”

A sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan slipped from your lips, your head falling back again as your fingers twisted into his hair. “Baby, please,” you started, your voice shaky as your hips jerked up again, “shut u—uhhhh.”

The last part of your sentence dissolved into a grunt as Jungkook slipped a thick middle finger inside you, curling it just, stroking your walls while he suckled at your clit. He whined at the feeling of your plushy walls coating his finger, his big tongue lapping up and down while pumping the digit deeper.

When he pushed it in to the knuckle, the throatiest, loudest moan tore from your lips, and Jungkook moaned right the fuck back, his lips vibrating around your clit as his eyes fluttered shut. He felt the spongy plush of your g-spot with the tip of his finger, and he swears to fuck his cock started to cry.

His hips shifted against the couch as his big eyes watched your hole clench around his digit. “Woahh, baby,” he mumbled, his voice thick with wonder. “So pretty. Pictured my fingers in your pussy so many times. This is crazyyy, baby.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “You’re really cute, JJ. But I’ve been waiting for this for a year... Let’s cum first, and then we can talk about how crazy it all is, okay, honey?”

Your hands tugged harder at his hair, knowing how much he liked it from the times you’d discussed kinks and likes over phone calls. Jungkook practically purred at the sting and your words. He didn’t think he’d ever agreed with something more in his entire life.

When he added a second finger, the stretch made you fucking shudder. His fingers were so long, so thick, filling you so well that your thighs clamped around him instantly. He didn’t mind—he loved it, in fact. His moan vibrated wetly against your cunt as he spread his fingers slightly, fucking them into your hole harder.

“Fuckkk yes, babyy,” you whimpered, your back arching off the couch. Your hands tugged at his hair, your hips grinding against his face as your stomach tightened. “That’s itttt, baby. That’s fucking it.”

“Mmmmf,” he moaned, his tongue flicking over your slippery clit as his fingers pumped in and out, the wet squelch of your juices echoing as he lapped them up eagerly.

Your breath hitched, your moans morphing into sharp little cries as his hand tilted just slightly, the angle of his fingers brushing your puffy spot every fucking time.

“Fuck, JJ, fuck, fuck, fuckkk—”

He pulled you closer with his free hand, gripping your soft thigh as his tongue worked faster, licking and munching at your cunt like he hadn’t eaten all day.

“Baby,” you cried, your head tipping back. “I’m sorry, JJ, I—I’m gonna cummm, fuckkk! I’m sorr—yyyyy!” Your words dissolved into a high pitched squeal as your body convulsed, your pussy pressing desperately against his face. The orgasm hit you like a fucking truck, leaving you trembling and shaking into the couch.

Jungkook whined greedily at the feeling of you clenching tightly around his fingers, the fluttering grip making him thrust against the cushion for relief. He pushed his fingers as far into you as they could go, curling them up inside to drag every last bit of pleasure while his mouth suctioned hard around your throbbing clit. He followed your pussy as it quivered and tried to escape the stimulation, his throat bobbing happily as he swallowed all your slick.

His fingers slowed, his tongue moving gently as he lapped up everything, your hips jerking softly against his face, which made him smile cutely.

When you finally stilled, your breathing uneven, he pulled back with a little pop. His lips and chin were soaked, his hair a mess from where your hands had tugged at it, but his eyes were so bright. He licked his lips, a cute bunny grin spreading across his face as he looked up at you.

“Can’t believe you apologized for cumming, baby. That was so hot.”

You were both sitting on the floor next to the little Christmas tree Jungkook had helped you put together—your first Christmas tree ever.

Your parents weren’t ones to celebrate the holidays, and the season had always felt like a chore, something to just get through. But your boyfriend loved it, and he had a way of making you like things you didn’t think you cared about before.

The heater was cranked high, both of you showered and warm, now dressed in the matching Christmas pajamas Jungkook had bought for you guys in his hometown. The living room smelled like cinnamon from the gingerbread cookies you’d baked earlier, another absolute must Jungkook insisted on for the holidays.

It was all very cute. The mess, the lack of an apron, the flour smudged across his cheek that he didn’t notice. He looked so happy, his face bright as he popped a misshapen cookie into his mouth and declared it perfect. He was right. It was perfect.

Now, you're plopping a wrapped gift into his lap, curling your knees to your chest as you watched him with wide eyes. He grinned down at the box, his fingers brushing over the carefully taped edges before looking back at you.

“Baby, it’s so heavy. You went over budget, didn’t you?” he asked. “That’s okay—I did too.” He rambled on giddily, and you stayed quiet, maybe a little nervous, as his eager hands tore open the paper.

And then, for the first time since you’d met the rambly boy, he went silent.

Your gaze swept over his face, your hand lifting to tuck a piece of damp hair behind your ear as you tried to gauge his reaction. His mouth was slightly open, his eyes flicking down to the gift in his lap—a framed painting, the one you’d spent weeks working on in secret.

The longer the silence stretched, the more your nerves prickled. Then, his eyes started to well.

“Honey, it’s not meant to be a sad paint—”

“I know, baby!” he cried, his voice trembling as he sniffled. He set the painting gently on the floor before surging forward, pulling you into his lap.

“JJ,” you cooed through a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he buried his face in your shoulder. His wet hair tickled your skin as you kissed his cheek. “You like it?”

“I love it so fucking much,” he mumbled into your neck, his voice thick. “Oh my god, I love it so much. You fucking painted me? Are you kidding me? Fuck my gift! Oh, fuck it! This is the best thing I’ve ever gotten. I look like such a shitty, thoughtless boyfriend now. Fucking paintbrushes, oh for fucks—”

“Baby,” you scolded gently, your lips brushing his temple. His arms only tightened around you. “I love your gift so much. Remember? I almost cried… You pointed it out.”

He sniffled, leaning back just enough to look at you, his eyes wide and glassy. “Swear?”

“Swear, my love.” You nodded, running a hand through his damp curls. “I’m only going to use them exclusively when I paint you from now on.”

Jungkook’s head snapped up, his eyes widening a little. Then he pouted, his wet lashes batting at you as you kissed him softly on the lips. “I know you’re joking,” he muttered, “but that kind of turns me on.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled, your arms looping tighter around his neck as you pressed another peck to his pout. “Merry Christmas, JJ.”

His lips pulled into a big bunny grin, fingers spread over the small of your back. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

aaaaand that is IT for christmas & chill!!! aside from the breakdowns and delays on my part (who’s surprised Not me), i’ve had sooo much fun and will forever cherish this series. not just because it helped me connect w so many of you sweetiepies over the holiday period, but because it brought me closer to you, my piccola @lovieku. we all have u and ur beautiful, polymath mind to thank for c&c. love you baby

[strrykais]

ඞ control alt + love (📱, 📖)(M)

being a girl in the world of gaming is hard, that's why you've kept your identity a secret. after years of intense grinding, you have earned the title of the strongest mage player in the non-professional server. gaining the attention of an esports team they extend an invitation for you to join as their mid-solo.

having to overcome the fear of being a girl in the male dominated field, you come to learn maybe defeating boys - or specifically a certain boy - is something you could get used to.

gamer!seungmin x fem-gamer!reader

rating : (M) - mature

genre : humor, strangers to slight enemies to friends to lovers, esports au, slow burn

warnings : profanity, sex jokes, death jokes, gaming, mature content, fictional game, slight you x jeongin if you squint

notes : gonna be honest with you chat... i know nothing about esports but after further research i know just about the same as i did before research so :) also in this world the guys are very silly with their fans on twitter! inspired by falling into your smile!

status : finished

updates : n/a

taglist : closed

profiles (1) | profiles (2)

1 - that blonde lesbian 2 - playing dumb is hyunjin’s job (half written) 3 - mind your manners 4 - so far up their ass 5 - bullying kids on roblox 6 - put your boner away 7 - sad and wet rn 8 - im not bella swan 9 - lwk kinda sexual 10 - kitty whisper 11 - not a team player 12 - balls to the face (half written) 13 - sleep with jeongin 14 - trying to be marilyn monroe rn 15 - she gives crazy.. yk 16 - lets go home 17 - held at gunpoint 18 - douchebag jar 19 - seungmin is gonna have my ass 20 - i need you out there yn 21 - GAY FOLKS ONLY 22 - country bumpkin 23 - daddy is reserved for seungmin 24 - I HAVE SEX 25 - promise (written) 26 - shooters shoot 27 - you buffoon 28 - big booty bitches 29 - where do you want it? (written, smut) 30 - you wanking??? 31 - murder-suicide 32 - the girlfriend effect 33 - like a pixar lamp 34 - meow meow meow 35 - its going in my throat tonight 36 - ANVK's princess 37 - the trial of hwang hyunjin 38 - is friendly fire active yes or no? 39 - true victory 40 - always having a freak off

extras: 1. cant help myself

[gf2bellamy]

i luvvv what u did with my last req!!

i had a dream abt this one and i NEED it written.

.. but could i request maybe Garcia finding fem!reader's old highschool/college pictures (alone & w friends) and showing them to the team and spencer is just awestruck and intrigued bcuz he cant comprehend how reader has always been so pretty & charismatic.... idk do with that what u will (or nothing at all)

THANK YEW !!!!!!!!!

pictures — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing i think ? a/n: i'm so glad you liked your last request !! <333 this is such a fun request <3 hope you like this

You carefully placed the last glass into the kitchen cabinet, pushing it neatly into place before reaching for the next one. The soft clinking of dishes and the occasional scrape of cardboard against the floor filled the room as you settled into your new apartment.

From downstairs, you could hear Derek’s voice carrying up the stairs, teasing Garcia about something as she dramatically huffed in response. Their banter made you smile.

You were grateful they’d all volunteered to help.

Footsteps approached, and you turned just in time to see Spencer walk into the kitchen, his long arms wrapped around a large cardboard box. He adjusted his grip slightly.

“Where do you want this one?” he asked, his voice slightly strained from the weight of the box.

You dusted your hands off on your jeans before stepping closer, opening the flaps just enough to peek inside. A small smile crossed your lips.

“Oh, these are my books,” you mused, scanning the spines that peeked through the neatly packed stack. “You can put those in my bedroom—it’s just down the hall, first door on the right.”

Spencer nodded, shifting the box slightly in his arms. “Got it.”

As he turned to leave, you caught his sleeve lightly between your fingers, stopping him for just a second.

“Thanks, Spence,” you said warmly, offering him a smile.

He hesitated for half a beat before giving you a small, almost shy smile in return. “Of course.”

Spencer walked into your room, nudging the door open with his foot before carefully setting the heavy box down on the floor. He straightened up, pushing his hair out of his face as he took a moment to glance around.

The room was still pure chaos—half-unpacked boxes stacked haphazardly, clothes draped over a chair, and a tangled mess of cords near the nightstand—but small details caught his eye.

Trinkets lined your shelves, a few stuffed into open boxes, and a stack of well-worn books rested on the floor beside your bed. His lips twitched slightly, a soft smile forming as he took it all in.

It was so… you.

Before he could linger any longer, a sudden burst of excited chatter from the other room pulled him back to reality.

“Ooooh, now this is gold!” Garcia’s voice rang out, unmistakably thrilled.

Spencer furrowed his brows and stepped out of the room, following the sound of her excitement.

As he entered the living room, he found her perched on the couch, a pile of scattered photographs spread across her lap. Derek was lounging beside her, smirking as he flipped through the pictures, clearly amused by whatever they had found.

The apartment was still mostly bare, the only real piece of furniture being the couch they occupied. Boxes were everywhere, some opened, others still taped shut, waiting for their contents to be unpacked.

“Reid, you have to see this,” Derek said, waving a photo in the air before handing it to him.

Spencer hesitated before reaching for it, his curiosity piqued. As soon as his eyes landed on the image, he felt his breath hitch slightly.

It was a picture of you.

You were younger—maybe early college—dressed in a way that reflected the era, standing with a group of friends, all mid-laugh. Your smile was bright, genuine, and effortlessly captivating.

Spencer couldn’t look away.

He swallowed, flipping through the other pictures Garcia eagerly passed him. Some were solo shots—one of you at what looked like a dance, another of you studying in the library surrounded by books. Others were with friends, arms slung around shoulders.

“You were always a social butterfly, huh?” Derek teased, glancing at you as he held up another photo of you grinning at the camera, surrounded by people.

You, who had just walked into the room, immediately groaned. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” Garcia corrected, wiggling her eyebrows. “How is it fair that you were this pretty and effortlessly cool even back then?”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks heating up as you reached to snatch the pictures from Spencer’s hands, but he instinctively held them out of reach for just a moment longer, still completely entranced.

He finally looked up at you, studying you as if he were seeing you in an entirely new light.

“You’ve always been like this?” he asked softly, his voice almost distant, like he couldn’t quite process it.

“Like what?” you asked hesitantly.

Spencer blinked, as if realizing he had spoken out loud. He hesitated before answering, looking down at the photos once more before meeting your gaze again.

“Just… so pretty”

You bit your lip, trying to fight back the bashful grin threatening to take over your face. The heat in your cheeks spread all the way to your ears as Spencer’s words replayed in your head.

Just… so pretty.

Garcia was practically vibrating with excitement at this point, clutching a handful of your old photos to her chest like this was the best rom-com she’d ever seen play out in real life.

“Oh, this is delicious,” she cooed, wiggling her brows at you.

Derek smirked, shaking his head in amusement as he clapped Spencer on the back. “Man, I gotta say, I didn’t think you had game, but that? That was smooth.”

Spencer, meanwhile, was completely frozen, his mind short-circuiting as he realized what he had just said—out loud.

“I—uh—” He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked at you, wide-eyed, as if hoping you would rescue him from his own accidental confession.

But you didn’t. Instead, you just smiled—flustered.

“Well,” you started, shifting your weight on your feet, “thank you, Spencer.”

And that made him even more nervous. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he tried to compose himself. “I—um. It’s just an observation. A fact, really.” He rambled quickly, clearly floundering. “Statistically speaking, attractiveness is a combination of facial symmetry, social confidence, and personal charisma, which you seem to have had from a young age, based on these pictures and—”

“Reid.” Derek cut him off, shaking his head. “Stop while you’re ahead.”

Spencer shut his mouth immediately, ears still burning bright red.

Garcia leaned in toward you with a sly grin, whispering just loud enough for the room to hear, “Oh honey, I think you broke him.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, covering your mouth as you glanced back at Spencer, who still looked like his brain had yet to restart. He was gripping the photos so tightly now, they were starting to bend in his hands.

You reached out and gently pried the pictures from his fingers. His hands twitched at the loss of contact, but he didn’t stop you.

“I’ll take those back now, Doctor Reid,” you teased softly.

The sound of your voice seemed to pull him back to reality. He blinked, mouth opening slightly before he let out a quiet, breathy laugh—part disbelief, part amusement. “Right. Yes. Of course.”

You stepped back, giving him one last, lingering look before turning to Garcia, who still looked absolutely giddy.

“Alright, that’s enough of my embarrassing past for today,” you announced, gathering up the remaining pictures from her lap. “You guys are supposed to be helping me move, not dig into my past.”

Derek chuckled. “You brought that on yourself, kid.”

You shot him a playful glare before turning back to Spencer. He was still looking at you—studying you.

You held his gaze for just a second longer before looking away, tucking the photos safely into a box.

Spencer Reid was still completely, utterly dazed.

[usomads]

Pin Me // Roman Reigns x Reader

Author's Note -> Hiii I’m back! Had a dream about this recently and figured I’d write it out for y’all. 🤭 Also, tysm for the feedback on the first one shot I did! I wasn’t expecting that big of a response lmao, but I figured I’d write another one to feed y’all. Happy reading! 🖤 Link to Part 2

Plot -> You’re an up and coming wrestler on the main roster, working mid card matches to make your way through the ranks and into the main event scene until you find yourself teaming up with the main event.

Pairings -> Roman Reigns x Fem!Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Cursing, Daddy Kink, Spit Play, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), Hickies, Spanking, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.6k

“Miss Y/N, I know you took some bad bumps out there but please try to sit still so we can examine you,” the trainer pleaded. You just had a dark match against Piper Niven before the show opened and you were hurting badly, taking some brutal spots in the process. In the end you had pulled out the win, but you didn’t feel like a winner at that moment. You felt like your ribs had shattered into a million pieces, and it didn’t feel good. “So there’s no breaks or anything like that, you’re just understandably banged up. Keep icing it like you’re doing now and take a Tylenol every now and again, and you should be good to go. Just, don’t go jumping off of things for the next couple days and you’ll be good,” the trainer chuckled. You weakly smiled at him and attempted to get up from the table, but the TV broadcasting Smackdown caught your attention. Roman Reigns caught your attention.

The Bloodline story always captivated you, and it’s part of the reason you started seriously working on your in-ring character. They were the top of the food chain, the blockbuster event, the money ticket, and you hoped one day to grow to their level of popularity and success. Roman and Solo were both cutting a promo, and at first it seemed like the typical stuff. Both claiming to be the Head of the Table, both wanting the crowd to acknowledge them, but it was something Solo said that immediately piqued your interest. “Nobody in the locker room likes you, Roman. The men hate you, the women fear you… you know what-,” he paused for dramatic effect, “I challenge you to find any woman back there that’s dumb enough to team up with you and go against me and my partner next Saturday at Main Event. You win, and I’ll let you have a shot at my ula fala” Roman scoffed, clearly unamused that Solo was doing everything but facing him one-on-one, but agreed to his challenge.

“Wiseman,” he turned to Paul, his longtime advisor as he spoke, “You know what to do.”

Paul wasted no time, making sure to acknowledge his Tribal Chief before he hurried backstage to find the general manager. Now that the segment was over you had no excuse to sit in the trainer’s room, so you walked out and made your way back to the women’s locker room. Still clutching the ice pack to your ribs, you walked gingerly but not before being stopped. “Excuse me, miss Y/N, could I borrow a minute of your time?” There before you was the Wiseman himself, looking more stressed than usual. You were stunned, why would Paul want to talk to me of all people? “Of course, Mr. Heyman. I was just heading back to the locker room. Is everything okay?” “Oh please, call me Paul,” he paused, carefully choosing his next words, “I saw your match with Piper tonight, you looked like a star out there. The splash from the top rope to the announce table was incredible. I-” he stopped his ramblings as his eyes drifted to your ice pack on your ribs, a look of (fear? worry?) evident across his face.

“Oh don’t worry, Mr. Hey- I mean Paul, nothing’s broken. Just a little banged up is all, I’ll be good to go in a couple days,” you smiled as relief washed over his face. “Good, good! I mean- not good that you’re banged up, good that you-” “I know what you mean, Paul,” you chuckled at him, trying to calm him as best you could. “But you wanted to talk to me about something?”

“Yes, right! Well-” he clears his throat, “As the Wiseman to our esteemed Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns, I have been tasked with finding a suitable partner to join him in taking down Solo Sikoa and… whoever his partner is… so I was wondering-”

“Hold on a second, Paul, you want me to be Roman’s tag team partner? I mean forgive me for saying this but isn’t there someone… I don’t know… more worthy of a main event spot than me? Does he even know you’re asking me?”

“Well, not exactly,” he hesitated, “the Tribal Chief has… how do I say this… never been one to make friends. So I’ve so far been unsuccessful in finding him a suitable partner, but you’re here and the match you just put on was phenomenal! Even the Tribal Chief himself said you had a lot of promise, which is more than he says about anyone else…” he continued, “but no, I have not told him I was going to speak with you.” “Then let’s go talk to him, I want him to be okay with me being his partner before I agree to anything.”

“You can’t be serious, Paul.” Roman sighed in clear frustration with the whole thing, “I mean she’s basically a rookie. And you think it’s a good idea for her to partner with me?” “Well yes, my Tribal Chief. I would never lead you astray.” You squirmed where you stood across the room, uncomfortable with the tension in the air surrounding your presence. Paul continued, “I asked everyone else in the locker room, and all of them declined. If you want to reclaim your ula fala, she’s your only option.” It was then that Roman finally glanced in your direction, eyeing you up and down as he pondered on his decision. His stare alone was enough to make you feel weak in the knees, but you hid that as best as you could. Or tried to, anyway. The silence in the air was thick, and before you could stop yourself you were already speaking. “Ro- I mean, my Tribal Chief-” “Please, Joe is fine.”

“O-okay, Joe-,” you stammered. No man has ever made you act like this; you were always so confident, but here you were fumbling your words and stuttering through your sentences like you were a little girl all over again. It was almost pathetic how much of an effect he had on you, but you continued, “I- think Paul is right. I know I-I’m not a b-big name in this business yet but- you need to win back your ula fala, and you need someone willing to team with you to do it. I’m willing. I’ll help you.” Joe studied your body language as you spoke, watching the way you stood nervously across the room from him and how you were slightly shaking due to the pressure you were under. He watched your breathing, noticing you were breathing heavier with each word that came out of your mouth. He also noticed your lack of eye contact with him, your eyes glued to the floor afraid to look at his reaction to your sudden outburst. Joe had been wronged so many times before by people he loved dearly. Being forced to trust a complete stranger in his quest to regain what was rightfully his seemed unfair, but Paul and Y/N were right- it was the only way he was going to be able to do it. “Come here, Y/N.” Your eyes shot up from the floor at his response, looking at Paul for assurance. Paul gave you a small smile in return, letting you know it was okay to approach him. You made your way to him slowly, still looking anywhere but at him as you did so. When you finally reached him your eyes were still down, not daring to make contact, but a jolt of energy made you do so. With a singular calloused finger he lifted your chin until you were staring back at him. He towered over you and his dark brown eyes stared into your own with a burning intensity you couldn’t quite place. 

“You both are sure this is going to work?” He asked you and Paul, still maintaining his gaze with you. “Yes, my Tribal Chief,” Paul replied, a little more confident in his decision than he was about 10 minutes ago. “What about you, Y/N, you’re sure it’ll work?” You swallowed hard, feeling more pressure than ever before. This has to work, you thought, there’s no other option. Letting out a heavy breath you didn’t know you were holding, you breathed out just loud enough for him to hear, “Yes, my Tribal Chief.” “Wiseman, go let Aldis know I found my partner. Oh, and make sure it says between us; I don’t want Solo to see this coming.”

The day of Saturday Night’s Main Event was finally here, and neither Solo nor the WWE Universe knew you were the ‘mystery partner’. That wasn’t for a lack of trying though, Solo tried every trick in the book to figure it out. Harassing Nick Aldis, sending his lackeys to break into Joe’s dressing room for clues, none of them worked. You both had kept tight-lipped about your partnership, having secret training sessions together in the week leading to the match and keeping creative meetings to ‘need to know personnel’ only. Their plan was executing flawlessly but just had one more step to go: the true element of surprise.

Solo and his partner, Nia Jax, made their entrances into the ring and stood in wait for Roman and his ‘mystery partner’, but were shocked to find that Roman was making his entrance alone. That’s because you were lying under the ring, waiting for your cue to strike. Roman finally entered the ring prompting Solo to start antagonizing him and Nia getting in on the action. Her and Solo’s backs were turned and that’s when you made your appearance, striking Nia from behind and throwing them both off guard.

The match itself was pretty standard, Solo and Roman starting things off. Roman had the upper hand very quickly, but over time that changed. Near fall after near fall from both men ensued, with Superman Punches, Samoan Spikes, Spears, and everything in between. It was apparent that Roman was trying to use most of the time in the ring, he was trying to win this all by himself. But eventually that came back to bite him in the ass, as now he was beaten badly and needed help. His body nearly on the brink of exhaustion as he desperately tried to win in every way possible, to no avail. He knew in the back of his mind you were going to have to finish this match, and that his fate was ultimately in your hands. You knew it too, so while he laid limply in the ring after kicking out of two Samoan Spikes you were screaming for his attention. He dragged himself across the ring to you, finally relenting and giving you the chance to win this, and tagged you in right as Solo was tagging Nia. You entered the ring and suddenly every doubt you had and every insecurity of yours quadrupled as you stood across the ring from the Smackdown Women’s Champion. She came in with a fury you had never encountered before, or seen, and was countering every piece of offense you could get in. But after her initial rush of offense she slowed down, and that was when you struck. You start throwing heavy strikes, tackles, drops, you were unloading the clip of your entire move set on her, and it was working. You had her down on the mat, and were climbing the top rope to hit your finisher on her and nailed it. You immediately crawled on top of Nia to use your signature pin, by straddling her head and using your knees to keep her shoulders down. It was at this moment you locked eyes with Roman who had a different look in his eyes than you’ve ever seen before, eyes darker than ever as they trailed down your body and stared at your suggestive pin position. 1… 2… 3… 

You won. You pinned Nia, and you just secured Roman’s opportunity at the ula fala. Both of your names were being announced but you couldn’t hear it, stuck in this trance of Roman’s stare. He entered the ring and stood over you as you were still straddling Nia, looking down at you as you were practically on your knees in front of him. He guides you to your feet by lightly grabbing your chin, making sure he keeps his eyes on your facial features. 

“Be at my locker room in 10 minutes,” he says loud enough for only you to hear, “we’ve got some celebrating to do.”

You had only given one soft knock on the door before it flung open and were dragged inside, now roughly pressed against it as bites and bruises were being scattered across your neck.

“You did so good for me out there, baby, winning for me all by yourself,” Joe growled against you, “So daddy’s gonna reward you, all you gotta do it be a good girl f’me and you’ll get want you want. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, f-fuck, yes sir.” Joe groaned in response and ripped off your ring gear, as you now stood completely bare before him. He drank in your naked body, how it was curved in all the right places with your beautiful breasts and ass perfectly on display for him. It was then that he noticed the artwork decorating your hip and thigh, a true masterpiece that would make Botticelli’s portrait of Venus look like a kid’s drawing. One that he would have no shame in hanging above his fireplace and admiring it for as long as he lives. 

He attached his lips to yours in an instant and you felt as though you were putty in his hands. This kiss was needy, desperate, and your hands felt the same as your hands wandered up and down his torso and his gripping your ass and breasts like his life depended on it. Joe removed the shirt he was wearing to reveal his god-like body to you, and you felt your wetness begin to drip just from the sight of him alone. His hands continued to wander, reaching your aching core as he let a singular calloused finger drag itself through your wetness. You bucked your hips in response, wanting more of him, but instead felt another large hand grab your waist. “Uh-uh princess, none of that. You’re gonna take what I give you, when I give it to you. Understand?”

“Yes daddy, I just-,” your sentence was halted in its tracks by a rough smack to your ass, making you cry out in pleasure with a hint of pain.

“Don’t talk back to me baby, Daddy doesn’t wanna have to punish you before you get your reward,” he leans into your ear, lips brushing your earlobe as he whispers, “and you don’t want that, do you baby?”

“N-no, no sir. I’ll be good.”

“Good girl, now show Daddy how good your mouth looks full of his cock.” You drop to your knees, hands fumbling with the belt around his hips. Finally you unbuckle it, removing it and releasing him from the confines of his pants and boxers. His cock is as god-like as the rest of him, perfect length, thickness, and the right amount of veins that you know will have your head spinning the moment it enters you.

“Look at me baby,” he tilts your head towards him with his finger, “open your mouth for me.” Reluctantly, you obeyed as he leaned down and spit in your mouth, giving you more to coat his dick with. Still looking up at him, you wrap your hand around the base and spit on the tip, bringing your hand up to pump his cock and fully coat it. You stroke him a few more times before dragging your tongue along one of the veins, making him shudder and let out a low groan, bringing his fingers to your hair and tugging lightly.

“Mmm baby don’t tease Daddy, go ahead pretty girl.”

You wrap your lips around the tip, giving kitten licks and sucking the sensitive head. He hisses and tugs harder on your hair, encouraging you to take more of him. You relax your jaw as you slowly bob your head up and down on his cock, using your tongue and hollowing your cheeks with your movements. Looking up at Joe you see he is a mess above you, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, and moaning your name. To you he always looked like a god among men, but seeing him in this state and being the one to get him there made you want him more than anything in your life. “F-fuck Y/N, you take me so well sweetheart, but I wanna cum in that pretty pussy of yours.” He helps you to your feet and guides you to the couch. He lays down, and as you move to straddle his waist, he stops you. “No, baby. I want you to pin me.” You look at him confused for a moment, unsure of what he’s saying. “Your pin tonight,” he adds, “pin me like you did Nia.” You hesitate before climbing on top of him, straddling his shoulders and resting your calves on them. “Like this, daddy?” You ask nervously.

“No baby, like this.” He lifts your hips from their seated position and brings your pussy directly to his face, where he latches his lips to your aching core. The feeling of his lips and tongue eating you with such desperation makes you jolt forward, grabbing onto his hair for support. He chuckles against you briefly before going back to work on you, licking your folds and wrapping his lips around your clit. His tongue is working wonders on you as he plays with your entrance before slipping it inside. The feeling is overwhelming, both tender and rough at once. You feel yourself getting closer, your walls fluttering around his tongue with every movement it makes. All of a sudden though, he stops, and you whine in response. “As much as I’d love to eat you for every meal and then some, I think the winner here deserves to cum around my cock. Would you like that, baby?”

“Fuck yes, Daddy please, please fuck me.”

“You’ve been such a good girl tonight, I think you deserve it baby. Come on.” You both get up as he bends you over the couch, teasing your entrance with his cock before roughly slamming into you from behind. You scream out in response, which makes him cover your mouth and bring you close.

“Now baby, as much as I’d love to hear you scream my name over and over, I gotta keep you quiet. You wouldn't want someone barging in, would you?” Your pussy tightens around him in response and you moan into his hand. “Oh, you dirty girl… I gotta keep you around, don’t I princess?” He removes his hand from your mouth and brings it to your hair, wrapping it around his wrist for leverage and tugging it as he pounds you from behind. His free hand is roughly smacking your ass as he roughly fucks you, making your pussy squeeze his cock. Your mind is completely blank, the only thing you can think about is him and how good he’s fucking you as you become a moaning mess beneath him. 

“Fuck Y/N,” he groans in your ear, “your Tribal Chief wants to fill your pretty pussy full of his cum, can I baby?” “Mmm, y-yes m-my T-tribal chief. Want y-you to f-fill me up.” He moans at your response, speeding up his thrusts. The sounds of your skin slapping and moans have completely filled the room. You knew if some poor soul walked by they’d know exactly what was happening in here, but neither of you cared. Right now, the only thing on both of your minds was how incredible you felt. It didn’t take long for him to figure out where your spot was, feeling your pussy react to him with every snap of his hips. Both of you were close now, you could feel it, but your orgasm was the first to hit. And it was intense. Your knees buckled under you as you spasmed under him and pushed back further into him, driving him deeper than before. The feeling of you cumming around him was what did him in, releasing himself into you in waves that had him coating your walls completely, marking your pussy as his. He admires his work in front of him; you completely fucked out before him, neck covered in marks he left on you, pussy swollen and red from the beating he just gave it, and best of all, leaking his cum. He takes a moment to come back down to Earth and takes in his surroundings, eyes landing on the ripped up garments on the floor that was your ring gear. Chuckling, he picks up his phone and dials a number. “Hey, Paul. I- yes, we’re fine. Listen, I need you to bring an extra set of clothes with you. There was, um,” he pauses, watching your glossy eyes close and your breathing soften, “an incident.” Paul begins to tease him through the phone, but Joe isn’t listening; he’s admiring the woman sleeping soundly before him and realizing that maybe the match wasn’t the only thing she won tonight, but she had won his heart too.

[fantastic-nonsense]

So what are the best Nightwing runs to read?

*sigh* this is a very loaded question.

Three things to keep in mind before we continue:

Dick's best writing historically happens in books that are not the Nightwing solo.

The tenures of Nightwing solo writers are usually pretty long, so despite Dick having a solo comic for nearly 30 continuous years, there's a limited number of writers who have actually written Nightwing.

The direction of Dick's solo book has been at times driven largely by the whims of editorial edicts rather than creative team desires, particularly the fallout from War Games and Infinite Crisis pre-reboot and Dan Didio's personal hatred of the character post-reboot. So most Nightwing runs already come with a huge asterisk beside them labelled "*Note: worse than it would have been without editorial interference."

For ease of answering the question, I'm not including Dick solo books that happened when he was Robin or Batman on this list. Since there's only 14 total Nightwing/Grayson writers to choose from (Dixon, Grayson, Jones, Wolfman, Tomasi, Higgins, Seeley and King, Seeley, Humphries, Percy, Lobdell, Jurgens, Taylor, Watters), your options are already limited. Of those:

Devin Grayson's run, Marv Wolfman's run, Tim Seeley and Tom King's Grayson run, Ben Percy's filler arc, and Scott Lobdell's Ric arc are all objectively bad, for various reasons. All have redeeming features, but I would rarely actually recommend them to anyone.

Bruce Jones' One Year later filler arc wins the prize for "had potential, ruined by the most utterly bizarre creative decisions of all time" (aka, everything about Cheyenne Freemont and Tentacle Monster!Jason).

Dan Jurgens' run is…fine. Unfortunately, because it's short and focused on cleaning up Joker War and the Ric arc, there's not a lot of redeeming plot features.

Tim Seeley's solo run and Tom Taylor's run are aggressively mid. They're both readable, and they both have some solid arcs and character development; they also have creative approaches, characterizations, and/or plotlines that are just. very bad.

tbh, my opinions on Taylor's run written prior to the sister reveal vs. post-reveal are funny because it's just a complete 180. my pre-reveal opinion was like "oh this is a fun lighthearted palette cleanser run after the nonsense of the last 5 years. I have issues with it, especially with the ableism and general treatment of Babs, but the run itself is probably needed to re-establish an actual status quo" and my opinion of the post-reveal part of the run is like "this run is dead to me."

So this ultimately leaves us with a Top 5 of Chuck Dixon (his og run, not including Nightwing: Year One, which I personally dislike), Peter Tomasi, Kyle Higgins, Sam Humphries, and Dan Watters' current run.

I'm still not sure where I'd rank these Top 5, since they all have really great elements and not great elements. Dixon's run is foundational but is more focused on worldbuilding than it is on plot progression; it's a great starting place as long as you don't expect consistent quality from all 70 issues. Tomasi's run had fantastic characterization, but his plots aren't great and are frankly racist in hindsight. I really enjoyed Higgins' run, but it was clearly held back by all of the New 52 era editorial edicts and Batfam history/relationship erasure. Humphries' run was imo great but ultimately too short to consider a 'top run.' And Watters' run has been incredible so far, but he's literally only 5 issues in and I can't guarantee he'll stick the landing or stay this good.

So. Probably Tomasi>Dixon>Higgins>Humphries, with the current run by Watters tentatively somewhere on the list as well?

[seulgisqt]

𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒 — lena oberdorf

lena oberdorf x bayern!reader

(a/n: hey…it’s been a while, uni has me on its deathbed so enjoy this piece whilst I disappear again x)

word count: 1136

genre: fluff

summary: lena challenges you to a game, but the real challenge is ignoring the way she looks at you

Giuila’s housewarming party was already in full swing by the time you arrived. Music pulsed through the apartment, blending with the hum of conversation and bursts of laughter. From the balcony, you could hear a few teammates arguing over a game of cards. The kind of chaotic energy that only came when the squad was off-duty.

You weren’t exactly a party person. Sure, you’d go to the team events when you had to, but you’d never been the first to arrive or the one to linger long after. Still, Giulia had insisted, and you figured one wouldn’t kill you.

You hesitated at the door, shifting the bottle of wine you’d brought. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a decent contribution. Just as you raised a hand to knock, the door swung open, and Giulia stood there, grinning.

“You made it!” She beamed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside before you could even respond. “About time. I was starting to think I’d have to drag you here myself.”

You laughed. “You would have tried.”

“Obviously,” she teased as she took the wine bottle from you. “Now go get a drink. Just—“ she shot a look towards the kitchen where Klara was waving a bright green drink in Georgia’s face, “maybe don’t let Klara talk you into whatever she’s making.”

You promised to steer clear, but as turned towards the living room, Lena’s familiar figure caught your eye.

Sitting on the arm of the sofa, beer in hand, she caught your gaze and lifted her solo cup in a silent greeting.

You and Lena weren’t exactly close. However, your midfield partnership was solid. You understood each other’s movements, and trusted each other in tight spaces. But off the pitch? Your interactions had always been brief—causal words in passing, although she had a sharp wit that always kept you on your toes.

And you were slowly warming up to her.

“I honestly didn’t expect to see you here,” she smirked, her voice carrying a hint of surprise as she stretched out her arm in an inviting gesture for a quick embrace.

“Why’s that?” you replied amusement crept into your voice, as you sunk into her warm embrace, feeling the softness of her sweater against your cheek.

She shrugged. “You don’t usually do the whole team bonding thing outside of training.”

“I do.” You tilted your head. “Sometimes.”

Lena’s smile widened as she pushed off the sofa. “Alright, then prove it. Play Jenga with me.”

Gesturing towards the coffee table, where a precariously stacked Jenga tower stood, the game already mid-progress. Georgia was up, hands steady as she carefully pulled out a block. The moment she placed it on top, Giulia—ever the troublemaker, bumped her shoulder just hard enough to send the entire thing crashing down.

“You’re kidding,” Georgia groaned as the room erupted in laughter.

Lena leaned in, voice low. “Think we can do better?”

Your pulse stuttered at her closeness, but you forced yourself to focus. “Obviously.”

So you played.

At first, it was just a casual game, with teammates cheering you both on, but then it became a challenge. Just you and Lena, neither of you willing to back down. Every time she pulled out a block, her fingers would brush yours—maybe accidentally, maybe not. And every time you made a risky move, she’d grin at you like she was impressed.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were aware of the rest of the party continuing around you. Music, laughter, the occasional shouts from the kitchen as Klara tried to convince someone—anyone—to try her latest cocktail disaster. But here, in this little bubble of competition, it was just you and Lena.

The Jenga tower grew taller, the tension thick. You reach for a block near the middle, carefully wiggling it free. The second you placed it on top, Lena exhaled a low whistle.

“Not bad,” she murmured.

“You sound surprised.”

“Oh, I’m not.” She tapped her fingers against the table, considering her next move. “I know exactly how steady your hands are.”

The words sent a jolt of heat up your spine, though you weren’t entirely sure why.

The game ended a few rounds later when a risky move from Lena, sent the tower tumbling down. She grumbled, readjusting her ponytail as the rest of your teammates laughed, but she was still watching you, something in her expression indecipherable.

By the time Giulia called for a toast, the night had blurred into something easy, warm. Glasses clinked, voices filled the room, and Lena nudged your arm.

“Wanna get some air?”

You hesitated, just for a second, but then you nodded.

The cool night air was a relief as you stepped onto the balcony, the distant hum of Munich stretching out before you. Lena leaned against the ornate railing, her gaze flickering towards you.

“You having fun?” She asked.

“Surprising, yeah.” You huffed a laugh.

“Told you it wouldn’t kill you to socialise.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

Falling into a comfortable silence, Lena shifted, her shoulder brushing yours. “You know,” she began, voice softer now, “you’re different when you’re not so focused on football.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “You’re just…lighter. It’s nice.”

Your stomach flipped.

You didn’t know what to say to that. You weren’t even sure what she meant, not really, but there was something about the way she was looking at you. Like she was seeing something no one else did, making your heart crawl its way up to your throat.

And then, before you could think too hard about it, you nudged her. “I like this side of you too.”

Lena raised a brow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The words hung between you, heavy with something neither of you had put a name to yet.

Lena’s gaze flitted down—to your lips, just for a second—and your pulse skyrocketed.

But she didn’t close the distance.

Instead, she reached for your hand, fingers brushing hesitantly before settling against yours. Not quite lacing together, but not pulling away either.

You heart pounded, hearing the pulse in your ears.

Another second passed as the balcony door burst open, and Klara stumbled out, drink in hand, oblivious to whatever moment had been forming.

“Oh, there you are,” she said, eyes flicking between you and Lena. “We’re playing Uno. You two in?”

You blinked, still trying to catch up to reality. Lena glanced at you, something amused flickering across her face, before she finally pulled her hand away.

“Yeah,” she said. “We’re in.”

Klara grinned, already heading back inside.

Lena exhaled, turning back to you, her voice low. “This isn’t over,” she murmured.

And then she was gone, leaving you standing there, heartbeat unsteady, wondering what the hell had just happened.

[sm-baby]

Most exciting part of the trailer for the next TADC episode for you?

More so an Analysis rather than things I'm excited about X3

I watched the sneak peek on loop I can process everything! Waahh!! I'm so excited for episode 2 💞 only a few weeks away! 💕

I wanna get this out of the way, I love Lizzie Freeman and Alex Rochon's Improv work on this promo 😭 they were really put in a booth together, were told to say things to promote episode two, and came up with that 😭 Genius.

The environment work is GORGEOUS! I love the look of everything, the world-building, the colors! It looks like a full-fledged movie guys! Absolutely beautiful and WONDEROUS work from the Glitch team-- it's so beautiful for half a year of work??? God damn!!

Haha! As an in-universe creation, Despite his little gags, Caine is genuinely such a good AI to make something so cool!

You'll also notice that Ragatha is taking charge of talking with the princess! That would make sense for such fellow beautiful well-mannered women!

More on them later at the end! :3

Dream sequence theory

Also, we all agree that these ones are all part of a dream right? Pomni is panicked, the strange sort of "slow woozy wobbly" animation exactly like a dream... even the dolly zoom!

Then she is sent to the cellar with a an abstracted arm, but that shouldn't be the case since Caine could easily fix an abstracted arm with a snap of a finger.

And then she wakes up, freaked out!!

Wahaha! Shout out to the Showtime server for pointing this out while we were discussing!

This is either and "end of episode prize" from Caine, or he jumps in mid-episode to hand them a helpful item, ooorr he's telling them that that's their objective for the adventure :3

also!! people have pointed out that Zooble isn't with the carriage with the others! Either this means that Zooble was given a surprise roll in the adventure, or she's off to have a fun solo adventure with Caine! Ohh! How exciting!

Zooble is a favorite character of Goose's, so to learn more about him and why Goose loves them so much would be so exciting!!

Whats up with Jax?

hunched down, writing in the sand, hugging his knees, this topped with Goose's two-word description of the next episode to be "I"m nothing"... Oh Jax is gonna have a MOMENT...

We all know that no one likes the dude and he's going to get worse. I'm unsure if this will make me like the guy, but I'm optimistic!

I'm open to understanding and seeing another side of him that would make me like him! I already quite like how this scene is framed, how lonely he looks, the acting in these few seconds already tells me what kind of guy he is.

...despite one of the gummis being tied up in the corner

If i had to hypothesize, this probably stemmed with Jax acting out, you know, the usual "being a nuisance" to make everyone miserable,

Then It escalates

This gets on Ragatha's nerves, first starting out as a silly "haha cute interaction" between them and it escalates while the episode goes on where Ragatha genuinely gets mad at him and tells him to stay put while they do the work.

Speaking of Ragatha, She seems to be quite fond of the Princess! There is a part of me that wonders if she wants to sort of-- "prove" herself in a way, as a leader or otherwise. Ragatha does give me the "smart yet nice kid in class that everyone copies off of" energy... TwT This poor woman.

I don't know, just the way The Princess bends down and holds her hand, it's sort of sweetly mentorly or motherly in a way. I'm not saying this to infantilize Ragatha, I respect her so much as a mature 30-year-old adult, I say it as a testament to The Princesses' character. Princesses, Queens, and any sort of royalty have been characterized as the sort of "mother/father of all" sort of character type, which is sweet! And would be quite interesting!

I know that people are quick to do the shipping with these two, but I kind of like the idea of Ragatha wanting approval and validation.

BUT THATS JUST A THEORY!! A FILM THEORY!!! ANDDD CUT!!

[billiesbabygirleilish]

Billie x guitarist reader where Billie and reader are friends but there is obvious tension between them. Reader loves to post guitar thirst traps on her socials and Billie is seen by fans in the readers comment section flirting. There is some chatter and fans are starting to notice when Billie is out with her friend group, they see reader and Billie kind of all over each other. Can take place at one of billies shows, billies guitarist is sick so asks reader to fill in (even though reader is just there to help in the background) reader agrees and Billie gets reader to play next to her in one of her songs (you can pick which one baby) and they interact in a cute flirty way in the show.After the show they have a moment can be fluff or smut up to you. They get spotted kissing later at an after party (set at an LA show) Billie posts a pic on her ig story kissing reader (like the Odessa pic) then deletes it and just refuses to talk about it. But people definitely think something is going on because they see that Maggie, Finn and Claudia follow reader on ig.

I’ll leave it up to you to fill in the inbetween but it’s just a thought I’ve had in my head 🤭

an: OK FIRST OFF DAMN I LOVE THE IDEAS IN YOUR HEAD AND SECOND HERE YA GO

Strings of Fate

.*.*.*.*.*➳➳➳➳➳┄┄🎸┄┄➳➳➳➳➳.*.*.*.*.*

.*.*.*.*.*➳➳➳➳➳┄┄🎸┄┄➳➳➳➳➳.*.*.*.*.*

The stale beer smell of the Forum backstage clung to your clothes even before you stepped foot into the madness. You loved the organized chaos, the pre-show jitters, the energy crackling in the air like static electricity. Tonight felt different, though. Beyond the familiar hum, there was a nervous thrum in your gut.

You were usually just here to help out. Lugging equipment, fetching water, making sure Billie's notoriously picky team had everything they needed. But tonight, Billie’s guitarist, Justin, was down with a nasty flu. And Billie, in a moment of sheer desperation, had practically begged you to fill in.

“Please, you’re the only one I trust!” she'd pleaded, her eyes wide and genuinely worried. “You know all the songs, you’re a damn good guitarist, and… and you just get it.”

You hadn’t played a show this big in years. You’d been content with your Instagram guitar thirst traps, short snippets of riffs and soulful solos that garnered a surprising amount of attention. Especially from a certain Billie Eilish, who had a habit of leaving flirty little comments like, “Damn, those fingers do more than just play guitar, huh?” or “Can I borrow that guitar? For… reasons.”

Those comments were half the reason you agreed.

Now, standing backstage, tuning Justin's guitar, you could feel Billie’s eyes on you. You glanced up, catching her leaning against a road case, arms crossed, a small smirk playing on her lips.

“Nervous?” she asked, her voice low and husky.

You chuckled, trying to keep your voice steady. “A little. Haven’t played in front of this many people since… well, ever.”

“Relax,” she said, pushing herself off the case and walking towards you. “You’re gonna crush it. I know you will.” She stopped right in front of you, close enough that you could smell her signature vanilla perfume. “Besides,” she added, a playful glint in her eyes, “I’ll be there to hold your hand… metaphorically, of course.”

The night flew by in a blur of flashing lights, screaming fans, and the adrenaline-fueled roar of the music. Your fingers moved instinctively, years of practice kicking in as you navigated the familiar tunes. But the real highlight was “The 30th.”

Billie walked over to you mid-song, a mischievous grin on her face. "Alright, superstar, show 'em what you got.” She nodded towards the sea of faces, her eyes sparkling.

The spotlight hit you and you launched into the guitar solo, a bluesy lament that echoed the song’s bittersweet melody. You poured every ounce of feeling into it, lost in the moment, your fingers dancing across the fretboard. When you finished, the crowd erupted, and Billie grabbed your hand, holding it aloft as she sang the final verse, her voice tinged with a vulnerability that sent shivers down your spine.

After the show, backstage was a whirlwind of congratulations and high-fives. You found yourself pushed up against a wall, Billie’s body pressed close to yours.

“You were incredible,” she breathed, her voice a low rumble. “Seriously, that solo… wow.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Thanks. You weren’t so bad yourself.”

The air crackled between you. You could feel her gaze burning into you, and you knew, without a doubt, that she felt it too.

“Can I… can I steal you away from all this for a second?” she murmured, her hand finding your waist.

You didn’t even have time to answer before she was leading you out of the chaos and into a quiet storage room. The only light came from a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

She turned to face you, her expression serious for a moment. Then, she reached up and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” she whispered, and before you could say anything, she leaned in and kissed you.

It was soft at first, hesitant, a tentative exploration. But then she deepened the kiss, her lips molding against yours, her hand tightening on your waist. It was everything you’d imagined, and more. It was a kiss that tasted of longing and unspoken desires, a kiss that promised so much more.

Later that night, at the after-party, surrounded by flashing lights and pulsating music, the tension between you and Billie was palpable. You kept finding yourselves drawn to each other, whispers and stolen glances exchanged across the crowded room.

Then, it happened. Someone snapped a picture. You and Billie, locked in a passionate kiss against a graffiti-covered wall.

The next morning, your phone was blowing up. The picture was everywhere. Billie had posted it on her Instagram story – a grainy, blurry shot, but undeniably you two – and then, just as quickly, deleted it.

The internet exploded. Theories ran rampant. Were you dating? Was it just a one-time thing? (absolutely not)

Billie, true to form, remained silent. She didn’t address the picture, didn’t deny or confirm anything.

But then, you noticed something. Maggie, Billie’s mom, had started following you on Instagram. So had Finneas, her brother, and Claudia, his girlfriend.

It was a small thing, a seemingly insignificant detail, but it spoke volumes. It said, "We see you. We know what’s going on. And we approve.”

You still hadn't talked to Billie about it. Not really. You’d exchanged a few texts, mostly just emojis. But you knew. You both did. Something had shifted. The kiss had opened a door, and neither of you seemed inclined to close it.

You scrolled through your Instagram feed, stopping at a new post from Billie. It was a candid shot of her laughing, her eyes crinkled at the corners. The caption was simple: "Life is weird. (and sometimes, really, really good.)"

You knew she was talking about you. And you felt a slow smile spread across your face. Life was weird. But you had a feeling it was about to get a whole lot weirder. And you couldn't wait to see what happened next.

[nightbutterfly09]

Little by little

Translation by: google translate (so pls don't judge, I actually don't know Spanish, but for the sake of this I was willing to go to such lengths)

Have a nice day/night🩷

Little by little Sae’s Spanish teammates noticed the little changes in his lifestyle. He started leaving practice on time. After his usual shower following each match he suddenly disappeared after coming out of the changing area. It wasn't the same old kind of disappearance. Because he used to rush to his car with his manager but nowdays Girolan was still waiting for him at the car while he was nowhere to be found.

Japan’s treasure, Spain’s greatest mid-fielder…

“Definitivamente tiene novia!!” /He definitely has a girlfriend!!/ Spoke the one with dark hair. “Sae? No hay manera de que esté interesado en nadie.” /Sae? There is no way he’s interested in anyone./ Scoffed the tallest one in the group.

Each person on the team decided of their own truth. Some said he has family visiting, some say he wants to leave Re Al so he’s meeting with members from other teams. The person who started this rumour decided to cry at him leaving. Poor man got really attached to the stoic and emotionless japanese prodigy.

There are also people who belive Sae, officially found love.

As for the boy genius, he didn't decline any of it, nor did he confirm any of said rumours. To be honest, he actually enjoyed the confusion. He liked how people came up with conspiracy theories while the truth remained hidden.

Until a pushy teammate of his visited him at his house. He saw his car in front of the door and just as Sae was about to step out he approached him. “Hola Sae! Qué estás haciendo?” /Hey Sae! What are you doing?/

The crimson haired frowned and sighed. “No es asunto tuyo. Por gué estás aquí?” /None of your business. Why are you here?/ The ugly retort came. However no answer came back. The man was way too busy with inspecting all he could see in the house. His eyes ventured across everything when suddenly stopping on a pink pair of shoes. His eyes widened.

“Tienes novia?!?” /You got a girlfriend?!?/ This made Sae startled and frantically looked behind himself. He kind of lost his cool. Although he still didn't understand how he got that conclusion.

“Los zapatos rosas” /the pink shoes/ he helped and pointed at the items in question. “No tengo novia idiota” /I don't have a girlfriend dumbass/ he scoffed and was about to shut the door.

“Saee dónde pusiste mi cargador-” /Saee where did you put my charger?/ you came out in his shorts with a small top covering your upper body. Your eyes drifted to the man towering on your staircase. A sweatdrop was visible on your face. “Aun no hay novia!” /Still no girlfriend./ And with that sentence the door was shut and locked.

From that day onward he got all the teases from his teammates. Each time he said you were his sister even if that grossed him out. But the Spanish knew better. They knew that the produgy got a girlfriend. Regardless of what he said.

You decided to surprise Sae at a match that he’s been preparing for a month. You were talking with Girolan as you two got closer throughout the days. Maybe he even knew the truth.

“Hola la chica de Sae” /Hi Sae’s girl/ smirked a shorter member as he spotted you. Sae was walking behind him and as he heared that he immediately turned to see you.

Your cheeks tinted with a deep red. “L-La chica de S-Sae?” /S-Sae’s girl?/ “Déjala en paz” /leave her alone/ his deep voice broke the laughter. He walked over to you and pushed you in the car signaling Girolan that they’d be going now.

“Solo admite que es tu novia” /Just admit she’s your girlfriend/ the man who saw you first in the flesh smirked. Sae sighed and a visible irk mark appeared on his temple. “Cállate y vete” /shut up and go away/ he mumbled. With that said he sat in the car.

“Sae.. I’ve been meaning to ask, why do you hide me so much?” You tried ignoring his gaze knowing he could push out a hard and blunt retort.

“They are noisy, they talk too much. I don't want your freedom to get taken away just because of me.” He sighed and raised your chin to finally face him. “But if you really want to make it public, I won't object.”

His eyes softened at his honesty. The air around you lightened and it wasn't so suffocating anymore. You have wanted to ask this ever since the tall guy saw you. But you always lacked the courage.

“Would they really blurt this thing out? They seem to really care about you” he chuckled at your words and his lips curled up in a gentle fashion.

“Exactly.. they’d be way too happy for me. So naturally, if they know, the whole world will find out."

"I don't mind. I have you, so it's fine" Little by little, your sentences melted his toic heart. Little by little more emotions flowed within him. Little by little, he started believing that he can have a life seperate from soccer, and the sport isn't all that he's interested in. He has you, and you have him.

I hope you enjoyed <3

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 14 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

The soft rustle of leaves accompanied the gentle trickle of water from your watering can as Cha Hae-In’s words hung in the air.

“(Name), do you know Hunter Sung Jinwoo?”

You paused mid-motion, the steady flow of water halting as you processed the question. The vibrant blooms around you swayed in the breeze, oblivious to the tension blooming between you and your visitor. You finally set the watering can down, resting your hands on the pot rim for a moment before turning to face her. “What makes you ask that?” you asked carefully.

Hae-In, seated on the nearby wooden bench surrounded by vibrant flowers, hesitated before continuing. “Hunter Sung did something while taking down the dungeon's boss. Whatever he did, a foreign magic spread out and healed the B-team's wounds. It wasn’t his magic, though—it was something different.” Her tone was calm, but her sharp gaze betrayed her curiosity.

You took a moment, carefully brushing invisible dirt from your gloves to avoid meeting her eyes. Ah, Jinwoo, you thought, a flicker of irritation crossing your face. Could you be a bit more discreet for once? You sighed internally, recalling how lost in the heat of battle Jinwoo could become. It was one thing to act like this in a solo fight, but with so many witnesses?

“The foreign energy wasn’t unpleasant,” Hae-In continued. “In fact, it felt… familiar. I couldn’t figure out why until I came here.” She paused, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of the bench. “Your aura, though subtler, feels similar to that warmth from the dungeon. And your lack of scent—there’s something about it that’s always made you stand out to me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but your face remained calm. Hae-In was sharp—too sharp for her own good. You turned back to your tools, neatly organizing them as you spoke. “Yes, Hunter Sung is... an acquaintance of mine,” you admitted evenly, keeping your tone steady.

Hae-In tilted her head. “Then, did you know it was him I was talking about a few days ago?”

“No.” Technically true—she’d never mentioned his name outright. You met her gaze briefly, “You didn’t tell me.”

A comfortable silence fell between you as you finished tidying up and sat beside her.

“(Name), There’s always been something about you that I couldn’t figure out. From the moment we met, your lack of scent... I thought maybe you didn’t know why, either. But after all these years, I’m sure you know more than you let on.” she said softly. “But it’s never bothered me. From the moment we met, you’ve been honest with me in your own way.”

The sincerity in her voice was disarming. You felt her hands suddenly cover yours, and despite the gardening gloves, her warmth reached you. “I’ve always admired you for that.”

“You’ve always respected my boundaries. And I want you to know I respect yours too. I won’t ask questions you’re not ready to answer. But…” She trailed off briefly, her fingers tightening slightly around yours.

“I want you to know how much you mean to me. You were my first friend, my mentor, and…” She looks sheepish all of a sudden, cheeks flushed and all. “To me, you’re like an older sister. You’ve always been there for me, and I’ll always be here for you too.”

The warmth in her gaze was almost overwhelming. You felt an old, familiar urge to tease her, to squeeze her cheeks like you used to do, if not for her holding your hands at the moment. But before you could speak, the chime of the shop bell interrupted.

The sound drew both your attention to the entrance, where a familiar figure stood.

Sung Jinwoo.

He seemed momentarily stunned to see Hae-In before his gaze shifted to you, and last to your clasped hands. His usual stoic expression was unreadable, but there was something sharp in his eyes that made you pause.

You felt your hand grow warm under Hae-In’s grip.

You gave Hae-In’s a soft nudge, prompting her to let go. As she withdrew, you gave her a brief reassuring squeeze—a silent message that everything was fine. She smiled faintly, understanding you without words.

Jinwoo’s eyes briefly flickered at the gesture, but you ignored it as you rose to greet him. Plastering on your professional smile, you stepped forward.

“Welcome to Perennial Atelier!” you said with practiced cheer. “How may I help you today, Sir?”

“I need to speak with you,” Jinwoo said, direct as ever.

‘I’m working, you oblivious man,’ you thought, though you maintained your polite façade.

“(Name), I—”

Here we go, you thought, already bracing yourself.

“—want you to come with me to my rank reevaluation,” he finished.

You blinked, “...Yes?”

“Good. Tomorrow. 10 a.m. You know the place.”

“Yes?? Wait—” But he was already turning to leave.

His eyes briefly flickering to Hae-In before stepping out, the bell chimed as the door shut behind him. Slowly, you turned back to Hae-In, whose expression mirrored your confusion.

“What... just happened?” she asked, echoing your own thoughts.

---

Later, as you worked on a bouquet of yellow roses, Hae-In’s voice broke the silence. “For a moment, he looked…” she murmured, her fingers fidgeting with Trick, the butterfly perched on her shoulder. “…scary.”

You paused, glancing at her. “Scary?”

She hesitated, recalling the brief flash of Jinwoo’s narrowed eyes, “Ah, never mind!” she said quickly, waving her hands in dismissal. “I’m probably overthinking it.”

You, however, couldn’t let it go. As you continued to fuss over her for the rest of the day, Hae-In didn’t complain, leaning into your care with a small, content smile.

---

Why did Jinwoo want you here?

You deadpanned internally as you sat on a bench at a safe distance from the throngs of reporters swarming around the South Korean Hunter Association's evaluation building. It was absolute chaos outside, a sea of flashing cameras, persistent microphones, and shouted questions all directed toward the entrance where Lee Min-Sung was scheduled to appear. But, unbeknownst to them, today’s true headline wouldn’t be the latest appearance of a celebrity Hunter—no, they would soon be scrambling for something much bigger. Because little did they know, today marked the reveal of South Korea's newest S-Rank Hunter, one who would go on to dominate headlines and leave the entire world begging for any scrap of information about him.

You couldn’t help the dry chuckle that escaped your lips. Poor fools. If only they knew what was coming, they'd be thanking their lucky stars for catching a glimpse of Jinwoo now, before he became the recluse he'd be infamous for.

But seriously, why were you here?

It wasn’t like you needed to see it in person. You could have comfortably stayed back in your garden, observing everything unfold through your butterflies, which you’d sent fluttering discreetly around the building. That was your original plan, and it was a good one. So why did you let yourself be dragged here, standing on the periphery, surrounded by this chaotic energy?

Oh, right. Because Jinwoo had insisted. You scolded yourself silently. Why did I agree to that again?

---

The wait was tedious. You watched through slitted eyes as reporters jostled for better positions, their excitement mounting each time the doors to the Association headquarters creaked open. They were all here for Lee Min-Sung. Yet, as you watched the throngs of people fidget and chatter, you knew their focus would shift in an instant.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you spotted Jinwoo emerging from the building, behind him were none other than Baek Yoon-Ho and Choi Jong-In. The moment Jinwoo’s presence became known, whispers rapidly spread through the crowd like wildfire, and within seconds, the focus shifted entirely from Lee Min-Sung to him. The air was thick with anticipation as people strained to get a better look.

There it is, you thought wryly. The announcement of South Korea’s tenth S-Rank Hunter was going to be all anyone would talk about for weeks. The reporters were already scrambling, furiously making calls to their editors.

Despite the buzz, you remained where you were, hidden behind your enchanted mask, which helped obscure your presence among the crowd. You didn't want to get involved, and you certainly didn’t want to be caught up in this mess. I'll just wait until he notices me, then slip away, you reasoned.

Except, Jinwoo did notice you. And not in the way you'd hoped.

Before you could react, he moved so quickly it was nearly impossible for even the trained eyes in the crowd to follow. In a blink, he was right next to you, standing there with that infuriatingly calm demeanor of his, as if he hadn't just drawn every single pair of eyes in the vicinity directly onto you.

The crowd gasped in unison, and you could feel the burning stares of the onlookers. Even Baek Yoon-Ho and Choi Jong-In, who had been walking behind him, were left staring at the spot where Jinwoo had stood mere seconds ago. You could almost hear the gears in their heads turning, trying to figure out who you were.

Seriously, how tactless could this man get?

Gritting your teeth, you grabbed Jinwoo’s hand without a word. At first, his eyes widened in surprise—softening in a few miliseconds—before quickly turning into a wince when you tightened your grip, nearly crushing his bones.

“Jinwoo,” you said through a clenched, saccharine smile that could have fooled anyone else into thinking you were pleased, “get us out of here. Now.”

Jinwoo gulped, instantly understanding the gravity of your anger. Without another word, he activated his assassin speed, whisking you away from the prying eyes of the crowd. The sudden burst of wind he left behind sent hats flying and reporters stumbling backward, while Baek Yoon-Ho and Choi Jong-In stared on.

---

You only released your death grip on Jinwoo’s hand when you found yourself standing in his apartment. As soon as you were sure you were out of sight, you yanked your hand away, shooting him a glare that could have melted through steel.

“What the hell was that, Jinwoo?!” you snapped, voice barely contained to a whisper despite your fury. “Do you have any idea what you just did?!”

Jinwoo stood there, momentarily caught off guard by your outburst. “I… I just wanted to—”

“No,” you interrupted, crossing your arms tightly. “You don’t get to explain yourself right now. Do you have any idea how tactless that was? I told you I have my reasons for staying out of the public eye, and you—” You jabbed a finger in his direction, causing him to take an instinctive step back. “—you just dragged me into the spotlight like that!”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“Sorry isn’t going to fix this,” you shot back, your voice tinged with frustration. “What were you thinking? Were you even thinking?”

He tried to open his mouth to respond, but one look at your expression made him swallow whatever excuse he had. The hallway was heavy with tension, the silence thick enough to cut through.

Jinwoo wasn’t used to seeing you like this—your eyes cold and distant, disappointment clear in every word.

“Why did you even ask me to come in the first place?” you demanded, your voice softening, but not out of kindness—no, it was the calm before the storm. The kind that promised you weren’t done being angry.

“I… I just thought it would be nice to have you there,” he admitted, almost sheepishly. “I wanted… I don’t know, for you to see how far I’ve come.”

For a moment, you hesitated. Jinwoo’s sincerity tugged at something inside you, but your anger was still far from spent. You sighed heavily, your shoulders slumping.

“You know what?” you said, shaking your head. “I need space, Jinwoo. I can’t deal with this right now.”

Jinwoo’s eyes widened, and the look of hurt on his face made your chest tighten painfully. But you couldn’t let yourself soften. Not now. You had to stick to your resolve.

“I’ll check on you in a few days,” you said curtly, your tone leaving no room for argument. “But until then, don’t even think about disturbing me.”

Before he could say another word, you let yourself dissolve into a flurry of butterflies, vanishing from his apartment in an instant. The last thing you saw was the crestfallen expression on Jinwoo’s face.

---

Jinwoo stood there for a long time after you’d gone, his apartment feeling emptier than ever with Jinah still in school. He rubbed the hand you’d nearly crushed earlier, wincing slightly.

“Well… there goes my dinner plan,” he muttered to himself, staring at the spot where you’d disappeared. He couldn’t help but replay your words in his mind, feeling the sharp sting of your disappointment.

I really messed that one up, he thought with a sigh. And with you in no mood to talk to him, he’d have to figure out a way to make it up to you—assuming you’d let him get close again anytime soon.

Maybe a bouquet of spider lilies...

End Note:

Unfinished Draft of [15/11/2024] -

[bbokarimenu]

Proud Dad, Happy Heart

pairing: idoldadbangchan!x fem reader!

genre: fluff

warnings: none

an: last one for today ☺️

Masterlist

The studio was electric with anticipation. Stray Kids were scheduled to perform on Music Bank, and I was seated front row with our five-year-old daughter, Hana, perched on my lap. The cheers of the audience vibrated through the walls, the energy infectious as the lights dimmed and the crew prepared the stage for the performance.

Beside me, Hana clutched my hand, her blue eyes wide as she watched the team of stylists and crew members bustling around, getting everything ready for the boys. Chan, her dad, would be performing in just a few minutes. It would be the first time since Hana’s fifth birthday that she would watch him on stage. She had always been a proud little girl, but today, her excitement seemed to overflow with every beat of the music coming from the rehearsals behind the stage curtains.

“Are you ready to see Daddy, Hana?” I asked, brushing a stray lock of her hair back.

She nodded eagerly, her ponytail bouncing with her enthusiasm. “I’m so ready, Mum!” she exclaimed, her voice carrying through the low hum of the crowd.

As the crew finished setting up, I noticed Hana’s fingers nervously twisting around the edge of her dress. It was a cute, little floral number I had picked out for her, one that she insisted on wearing for the occasion. “He’s going to be amazing, Hana. Just like always.”

Hana nodded again, but I could see the worry in her eyes. “What if I mess up? I don’t want Daddy to get worried.”

I squeezed her hand gently. “You won’t mess up. Daddy is going to be so proud of you, just like we’re proud of him.”

The audience grew louder as the clock ticked closer to showtime. Hana’s eyes scanned the stage, looking for any sign of Chan. “Where is he, Mum?”

“He’s getting ready in his dressing room. He’ll be out soon,” I reassured her, glancing at the monitor where the boys were making final adjustments before heading on stage. I could spot Chan, fussing with his hair and adjusting his outfit. Even from a distance, I could see the familiar lines of concentration on his face, the way his shoulders slightly hunched with the weight of anticipation.

“Look, Mum!” Hana tugged at my sleeve, pointing toward the stage. “They’re coming out!”

I followed her gaze, and sure enough, Stray Kids lined up, ready to make their entrance. The cheers from the audience grew louder, a sea of light sticks waving in the darkened studio. The boys took their positions, and the music began to play.

As the beat started, I could see Chan step forward. His eyes scanned the audience, landing on us briefly before he focused back on the performance. His movements were smooth, confident, his voice hitting every note with precision. It was clear he had poured every bit of himself into this performance, and I couldn’t have been more proud.

Hana’s face lit up with excitement as she watched her dad. “Mum, is that Daddy?” she asked, her voice tinged with awe.

“Yep, that’s him,” I replied, brushing a tear from my cheek. “Isn’t he amazing?”

She nodded, her eyes wide and bright as she continued to watch him. “I want to dance just like him when I grow up.”

“Well, maybe not just like him,” I teased gently, squeezing her hand. “But it’s good to have big dreams.”

As Stray Kids launched into their first song, Hana was completely captivated. She watched intently, mimicking their dance moves and singing along under her breath. Each time Chan came forward, she would clap louder, shouting encouragement to him as if he could hear her through the crowd.

I laughed softly, marveling at the sight of my little girl cheering for her dad. The bond they shared was unmistakable, even from a distance. It was the kind of connection that defied logic, rooted deeply in love and shared experiences.

Mid-performance, as Chan took the microphone for his solo, he caught my eye briefly. There was a soft, reassuring smile on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of his presence in our lives. It was as if he were silently saying, I’m here, and I love you. My heart swelled with emotion.

As the music transitioned into the next track, the energy on stage shifted. The boys were in their element, their chemistry evident as they moved seamlessly from one song to the next. Chan’s confidence was unmistakable, his gaze occasionally straying toward us in the audience. I could see him mouthing the words I love you whenever the spotlight hit him.

“Is Daddy tired?” Hana asked softly, leaning into me. “He’s been singing a lot.”

“He’s not tired, sweetheart. He’s just really into the performance,” I assured her, stroking her hair. “And remember, he loves doing this. It’s his dream.”

Hana nodded, still watching intently. “He loves us too, right?”

I smiled down at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Of course, he does. More than anything.”

As the last song drew to a close, Stray Kids took their final bows, sweat glistening on their skin under the studio lights. The crowd’s cheers were deafening, and I could see Chan searching the audience until his eyes found ours. A small, appreciative wave went in our direction, and Hana’s face broke into a radiant smile, her hands waving furiously.

“Good job, Daddy!” she shouted over the noise, her voice full of pride.

Chan’s smile widened as he spotted us. He gestured toward Hana, making a heart with his hands, then blew her a kiss. The sight made my heart swell with pride and love.

The boys exited the stage, but Chan lingered for a moment longer. He took a moment to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling with effort. Then, he made his way toward us, weaving through the crew and past security.

When he finally reached us, Hana launched herself into his arms. “Daddy!” she squealed, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck. “You were amazing!”

Chan chuckled, his eyes crinkling with joy. “Thank you, baby. Did you have fun watching me?”

Hana nodded, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “It was the best!”

I stepped forward, my heart full. “You were fantastic, Chan. As always.”

Chan gave me a grateful smile, his gaze softening. “Thank you, love. And thank you for bringing Hana here today. It means the world to me.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied, stepping closer to give him a quick kiss on the lips. “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

As we started to make our way out of the studio, Chan reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “That was a good show,” he said, his voice warm with satisfaction. “But you know what’s the best part?”

“What’s that?” I asked, glancing up at him.

“Having you two here to share it with me,” Chan replied, his eyes flicking to Hana who was chattering animatedly about the performance. “It makes everything better. Seeing you both in the audience is what keeps me going.”

Hana skipped ahead, her little legs carrying her with ease. “I want to be on stage like Daddy one day,” she declared.

Chan looked down at her, his expression tender. “You can be whatever you want, baby. Just remember to dream big.”

I watched them, my heart full of love and gratitude. There was no denying the deep bond between them. As they walked ahead, talking about the show and life in general, I couldn’t help but feel blessed. Hana was growing up in a world where her dad was a star, but more importantly, she was growing up surrounded by love—love from a father who was always present, always proud, and always there to catch her when she fell.

As we exited the building and stepped into the quiet of the parking lot, I wrapped my arms around them both, pulling them close. “We’re so proud of you, Chan,” I whispered, feeling the weight of his sacrifices and the depth of his commitment to both family and career.

Chan smiled, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Thank you, love. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

And as we drove away from the studio, Hana’s voice rang out from the backseat. “Daddy, I’m so glad I got to see you today.”

I smiled, looking back at her in the rearview mirror. “We’re glad too, sweetheart. More than you know.”

[wethotcrazy]

LET'S PLAY A FEW

pairing: Zhou Guanyu x Streamer! Reader

word count:

i have been cooking this up in my brain for so long now, like it has been weeks that i've been meaning to writea guanyu fanfic and now here it is yippie also i wrote this because guanyu is very dear to me and i am just gutted that he wont be racing next year

The stream was alive with the low hum of background music and the click-clack of Y/N’s keyboard. Her Tuesday night streams were a familiar routine for her viewers—three hours of CSGO, now smoothly transitioning into Valorant. She’d solo queued, half-focused on the game, half-focused on her chat. It was a relaxed vibe tonight, her soft voice filling the gaps as she responded to questions.

“Y/N, who’s your favorite agent?” one viewer asked.

“Hmm, depends on the day,” Y/N mused, squinting at the game. “But I’m leaning toward Jett lately. Fast, flashy… plus, I’m a sucker for knives.” Her words were accompanied by the sharp sound of her clicking through weapons.

Her team switched to defense. She’d been holding B site alone and wasn’t too concerned. “It’s always quiet until it’s not,” she muttered, eyes narrowing as she scanned the entry points.

And then it wasn’t quiet.

The enemy team pushed hard—four, no, five enemies storming the site. Y/N’s demeanor shifted instantly. She stopped talking mid-sentence, leaning forward, her entire focus honed in. Chat knew what was happening. They’d seen this mode before.

One.

Two.

Three clean headshots in rapid succession. Her chat erupted.

“SHE’S COOKING,” someone spammed.

“Demon time activated,” wrote another.

Four down, one left. Y/N’s crosshair tracked, and with one swift flick—the fifth player dropped.

“ACE!” Chat’s excitement exploded, emotes and all-caps filling the screen.

“Nice ace,” a voice said, calm and steady. Y/N’s body went rigid as a soft kiss landed on the crown of her head. Her breath caught in her chest.

Slowly, as if she couldn’t believe it, she turned her head to see Zhou Guanyu standing there, his face calm as ever, hands in his sweatpants pockets. His eyes met hers with an easy grin, one he’d worn countless times but somehow always made her heart stutter.

“Are you solo queuing right now? Want me to hop on?” he asked like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Y/N’s mouth opened, but it took her a moment to find the words. The situation wasn’t particularly funny, but a wave of giddy laughter poured out of her—that helpless, uncontrollable kind.

“I’m… I’m streaming right now, Bǎobǎo,” she said through breaths of laughter, wiping at her eyes.

Guanyu’s eyes flickered toward her monitor, realizing what had just happened. His gaze shifted to the camera. “Oh. Hi, chat,” he said with a casual wave like it was any other Tuesday night.

Pandemonium.

Chat’s messages scrolled too fast for Y/N to read. Everyone was freaking out. The calm, private nature of their relationship had only left the fans guessing. Speculation had been rampant, but this? This was confirmation.

“NO WAY THAT’S GUANYU.”

“WTF OKAY BOYFRIEND REVEAL.”

“Bǎobǎo?????????”

Y/N’s face was red as she tried to focus on the chat. “Alright, alright, calm down,” she said, fanning herself dramatically. She glanced up at Guanyu, still grinning like a fool. “You’re unbelievable.”

Guanyu’s only response was to tilt his head, his grin never wavering. “You’re the one who’s blushing,” he teased before walking off toward the kitchen.

Three years earlier, Guanyu had been just another viewer in Y/N’s chat—a regular with a verified checkmark that made him stand out. People recognized his name, but Y/N didn’t at first.

“Zhou Guanyu…” she read aloud, squinting at the name in her chat. “That’s… a Formula 1 driver, right? Chat, you’re messing with me.”

“No, it’s actually him!” chat exploded.

Sure enough, he’d donated with a message: “Big fan of your streams. If you’re ever down for games, I’m in.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide. “No way that’s real,” she muttered, half-laughing. But over the next few weeks, his presence became a regular occurrence. Guanyu’s name appeared in her chat, his playful comments lighting up the screen.

Then one day, he sent a Discord invite.

“Let’s play a few,” his message read.

He wasn’t what she expected. His sense of humor was sharp but subtle. He wasn’t loud, but he was confident. Their first few games were filled with banter and easy laughter. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being just "streamer and viewer" and became… more.

Soon, he’d hop into her streams without warning. His voice was instantly recognizable. Their interactions sparked thousands of clips on Twitch. Fans flooded her social media with theories. “Are they together?” became the constant question. They never confirmed or denied it, and after a while, the frenzy died down.

But when Guanyu’s race schedule allowed, he’d appear on her stream. Sometimes he’d just be a voice in the background, sometimes he’d play with her on-stream, and sometimes, like today, he’d forget she was streaming entirely.

Back in the present, Y/N’s chat was still in shambles. Guanyu’s sudden appearance had sent them into a spiral, and Y/N’s notifications were pinging nonstop. She’d read a few messages aloud, fighting the urge to laugh all over again.

“‘Tell him to come back’… No, he’s probably playing with Sweet Corn right now,” she joked, glancing over her shoulder.

“Does he call you Bǎobǎo?’” she read, the grin on her face growing wider. “Yeah, yeah, he does that sometimes. It’s…” She trailed off, her cheeks burning again. “Don’t worry about it.”

A few minutes later, Guanyu wandered back in with a bowl of fruit in hand, offering her a piece of mango. She took it with a raised brow. “You’re a menace, you know that?” she said, still half-laughing.

“Mmm,” Guanyu hummed in response, popping a piece of mango into his mouth. “You love it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” she said softly, her voice quieter this time, almost just for him.

Chat caught every word.