#you know where to find me because I still have it

[dilfhubs]

when fratboy!satoru takes your virginity you kind of expect him to be an ass about it. he's cocky as it is, and has a habit of gassing himself up too much when it comes to his... skills in the bedroom. if you're not listening to him talk about how he's the strongest, you're listening to him talk about how he's the biggest.

being the only virgin of your friend group was starting to grate on you and... a small part of you might've wanted to find out if there's any bite to satoru's bark. it's not like the two of you were dating or anything, but you felt comfortable enough to walk up to him one day during lunch and ask, in front of his best friend:

"will you take my virginity?"

maybe you expected him to blush. or freeze up. or at least trip over his words. but instead, the stupid white-haired prick looked up at you with the most relaxed expression possible and shrugged.

"okay."

and that's how you ended up here, sitting criss-cross applesauce on his messy dorm-room bed with his tongue halfway down your throat. a few empty cans of beer and abandoned cheat sheets lay strewn over his floor, and you hate yourself for letting this be the backdrop of your entry into the sex-having life.

but you can’t hate yourself for long because as he runs a hand up your thigh and under your skirt, you start to feel more excited than you thought you’d feel. he pushes you back, slots his knee between your thighs and bites at your bottom lip before trailing down to your throat.

still, it’s satoru, so when he pushes your panties to the side and feels just how wet you are for him, he laughs. “you get this wet when you touch yourself or is all of this just for me?”

“shut up,” you groan as he nips at the skin of your throat and gently runs his finger through your folds and up to your clit. you’re surprised he knows where your clit is, even.

and he’s not wrong—you’ve never been wet like this before. you can feel just how damp the fabric of your panties are you as satoru pulls them down your thighs and hikes your skirt up to get a clearer look at your soaked cunt.

“pretty,” he licks his lips. “wannna taste her, that okay baby?”

his eyes search yours for consent and you’re stunned for a moment as he waits for ‘enthusiastic consent’. you didn’t expect this sort of check-in from a frat boy. your nod seems enthusiastic enough to him, but just for clarity—“use your words.”

“yes. please, gojo.”

“satoru,” he corrects you. “want to hear that name when you cum on my tongue. cant believe no ones tasted her before.”

the use of referring to your pussy as ‘her’ is odd but quickly overlooked when he delves into your pussy like he’s dehydrated. tongue flat against your heat just to flex and circle around your clit. he sucks and bites a little and pulls you to your first orgasm in nasty speeds.

you cum on his tongue whilst his eyes bore into yours from between your thighs. white hair pulled out of his face by your hand as you tug the strands in hopes that he’ll stop licking at your overstimulated clit. it takes until you’re shaking for him to finally pull back and free his angry cock from his pants.

you think you gasp when you see it. he said he was big but you didn’t think he was a truthful man in the slightest. his cock is so heavy it doesn’t even stand at full mast—it fights gravity. satoru sees the look on your face and instead of sporting a shit-eating grin like you expect, he climbs over you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“let’s stop here?” he asks. “we could watch a movie. oooh what about die hard?”

you giggle, your nerves melting a little at his words. “i’m okay, i want this. i am not graduating as a virgin.”

satoru snorts and, after rolling a condom on, gently pries your legs apart enough for him to slot his wait in between them. he guides your ankles to link behind his back and slowly runs the tip of his cock through your slick folds. “tell me if you need me to stop,” he says. “just relax. i’ve got you, baby.”

you actually manage to relax a little, focus on the feeling of being stretched as satoru slowly pushes into you until his tip is completely hidden in your cunt. it’s uncomfortable, but not unbearable. “keep going.”

one of his long fingers dips down to rub soft circles over your clit to relax you a little more as he pushes deeper. you’ve never felt so full, so sore yet desperate for more… you wonder if it’s always going to feel like this, or if it’s just because satoru is the one breaking you open to find pleasure in your insides.

he lets out a pretty moan as he bottoms out inside of you, the weight of his heavy balls resting against your ass as he stills and catches your lips in a wet kiss. his tongue slips into your mouth, runs over your teeth and pushes against your tongue as he slowly draws out of you and then, with a grunt that you taste, snaps his hips forwards into you.

that hurts, but there’s an odd stitch of pleasure in the way he’s broken you open. “sorry,” he speaks against your lips. “it’s better that i just got it out of the way, it can start feeling real good soon. gonna make you cum on my cock, baby. you want that?”

you nod, eyes staring into his as your foreheads meet. satoru nods back, licking his lips and smiling. “yeah? you wanna be stuffed full, huh? always knew you were filthy. but i’m the only one that gets to see it.”

his arrogance pulls at your lips. “until i fuck the next guy.”

snap. his cock splits you open at that, and though you wince and screw your face us, you’re letting out moans made for porn too. his finger on your clit starts working a little faster as he draws back again just to drive into you even harder.

“no,” he dips his head down to bite at your neck. “not until you fuck the next guy. i mean you can try, baby, but it’s not happening.”

“ngh, what do you mean?”

another thrust into you sends you further up the bed. you’re sure you look a mess but satoru looks down at you with such wide blown eyes that you could be convinced you’re from the heavens. “not giving you up that easy,” he groans. “you know, i fucked someone last week just because they had your name. got to moan it without being slapped. again.”

your hand flies up to his chest, almost in an attempt to slow his now mean pace. “wait you—ngh god—you like me?”

“i’m far fucking past like,” he moans, hips starting to stutter. any discomfort has faded into glorious pleasure. your stomach starts to tighten again and you know you’re close enough that he’s going to try and time your orgasms. “you’re so perfect. so much better than i imagined.”

your eyes roll back a little at the thought of satoru fucking his fist late at night to the thought of you. how nonchalant he was when you asked him to take your virginity, you wonder if he went home last night and stroked himself to the sheer anticipation of being inside of you.

“satoru i’m gonna—”

he cuts you off with a deep kiss. it’s sex and want and lust, but it’s also soft in a way you can’t describe—maybe even a little anxious after his confession. it might just be his pending orgasm, but you swear his lips tremble between yours.

his cock throbs as he drills it into you, hits your most sensitive spot with every single thrust. it’s like he already has you mapped out, because you’re both cumming in tandem with each other before long.

a part of you aches to feel his cum spill into you instead of the condom he wears, to be claimed and filled by his seed over and over. would he fuck it back into you? clean you off with his talented tongue? would he plug you with his cock until he’s ready to overfill you with a second load?

he moans into your mouth and pulls back a little to revel in your fucked out expression. your legs still wrap around his waist, boxing him in and keeping him close. you worry that in typical frat boy fashion he’ll make an excuse and run off to recount the fuck with his friends. but satoru pecks at your lips, then your chin, then down your neck again.

“what are you doing?” you ask, vision slightly blurred from the intensity of your orgasm.

“gonna make you cum again,” he smiles against your skin. “didn’t you hear?”

“hear what?”

he pulls back to look at you, a soft smile pulling at his pretty lips. “that if you cum at least five times when you lose your virginity, you’ll fall in loooove.”

[okwonyo]

PEARLS&DIAMONDS ✶ RICHBOYS ( 日语 )

𝖠𝖫𝖳 ㅤ𓈒 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅.

【 BANK 】 3OOO ─── enhypen x fem!rea ♥︎ fluff non idol au ⸝⸝ skinship flirting reader is a meanie 「 … 」 req’ ！

じや please support this guys TT it was so challenging to write ! i never wrote so much for a reaction >< enjoy 🎀

rbs ⟡​ comments please + daily

LEE HEESEUNG 又は ─── THE MILLION DOLLAR BABY

“hey, princess!” you hear as you walk in the streets. the voice is loud and reaches you white well, given the fact that it is almost midnight. it is not like you were at a party, no— you were, contrary to popular belief. working

you don’t stop your parade, you would rather die. “c’mon, baby,” he says again, his car following you while you walk, “don’t act like you didn’t see me!”

still not stopping, you turn your head towards him. “you know, it can be qualified as harassment,” he dramatically gasps. you huff, “what do you want, heeseung.”

the man grins, “you told me you didn’t have a car last night,” he tells you. it is true, you told him that. you still don’t know how it correlates with the current situation. “so i bought one for you.”

you stop in your track when his last words reach your brain. the car mirrors your mouvement.

it is clean and spacious. the burgandy shines under the moonlight. the aston martin logo on the front is simple yet could leave anyone breathless.

“a vintage 007,” you hum as he comes stand next to you. you cross your arms under your chest, meeting his eyes, “good choice.”

“you know what car it is?” he groans, and you roll your eyes while you hit his chest. he smiles and bites his lip before adding, “you keep getting more perfect, baby.”

you smile at the compliment but you don’t thank him. you admit it is a beautiful car, beyond it even. and the fact that he bought it for you is lovely.

however, you leave again. heeseung follows you immediately, “where are you going?” he calls behind you.

“home,” you can feel it stop walking when you tell him that, you imagine the shock on his face then the rising confusion. he quickly reaches you after a while— grabbing your arm to turn you around when you are already where you wanted to be.

“princess,” he murmurs, holding both of your upper arms gently.“you know i won’t let you walk home alone.” he drags his eyes on your form, staring at your thighs revealed by your dress, “let me take you home.”

you smile at his words, “nice offer,” you remark. “i told you i didn’t have a car,” you continue, slowly getting out of his grip. your eyes slide from his to the big car next to the both of you, “because, i got a chauffeur.”

his mouth falls open. a man in a neat suit gets out of the car and opens the door for you. heeseung stays still, even after you get in and the door shuts. he watches the widow roll down to show your beautiful face. god, you are perfect.

“and my dad already has a vintage 007,” you smile before sending him a flying kiss.

𝖬𝖮𝖭𝖤𝖸𝖬𝖮𝖭𝖤𝖸𝖬𝖮𝖭𝖤𝖸

PARK JAY 又は ─── THE CEO’S SON

turning your head to you room’s door, you smile at your maid as she enters you space. she holds a bouquet of flowers in her hand. “for you, miss.” she announces as she hands it to you.

you can’t help the fond sound that leaves your mouth when you admire the adorable flowers, “thank you so much!” you tell her and she laughs. “what is this for?”

the lady shakes her head, all soft and nice, like always, “no, no, it isn’t from me,” she admits and you whisper a soft ‘oh’ before examining the flowers—you don’t know if you are hallucinating them—and finding a card in them. “it’s from you friend,” she continues while you read. it’s written in beautiful calligraphy, from—“park jongseong.”

you sigh, of course it comes from him.

as soon as his name is mentioned, your phone starts to ring on your night table. your maid sends you an apologetic yet amused glance before giving your phone to you— you playfully roll your eyes at her before answering the call.

“saffron crocus,” you smile without being able to control your face. “i knew no one in their right mind would give the annoying kid they should take care of those.”

the woman still in the room wants to protest but you wink at her, a sign to tell her that you are joking.

“and you haven’t seen your backyard yet,” jay laughs from the other side. you get up from your chair and goes to your balcony, you nice maid opens it for you before you can even ask her.

the sight is beautiful, a thousand, or more, of roses everywhere. put in beautiful bouquets held by hundred different people. this plus the bunch of luxurious flowers he gave you—three thousand each— leave you speechless. not because of the price, but because of the effort.

your smile gets wider, but you can’t let him know it. although he can hear it through the phone as you whisper, “how much do i own you?” you question the man in lieu of thanking him.

“nothing,” he immediately argued. “nothing but your precious time, sweets.” your stomach does a flip. “how about a date tomorrow?”

you hum, looking at the flowers you hold in your free arm before looking at the roses under your balcony. “i’ll consider,” you declare and you can practically see his victorious grin. “maybe try gold of kinabalu next.”

“anything you want, sweets,” and you hang up.

SIM JAKE 又は ─── THE SPOILED ROTTEN FLIRT

the sound of your name echoes all the way to you while you walk towards the stairs. “there is a visitor for you!” the housekeeper exclaims. you frown, wondering who would even visit you here.

nonetheless, you change your usual trajectory to go to the door, when you arrive, you see your housekeeper standing in front of someone you cannot recognize just yet.

“who is it? i don’t know anyone—” the so called visitor is revealed before you get the chance to finish your sentence. the end of it dies in your throat as soon as your eyes meet, you halt in your movements.

“you haven’t replied to my calls,” jake accuses instead of a proper greeting. “and i’ve been craving your attention.”

you go to him, “so what? you decided to come all the way to greece? just to bother me?”

the brunette shrugs, looking down at you and your pink robe. you study him back, him and his posture— hands in his pockets, well dressed, straight back.

the situation seems to amuse him, he bites his lower lip as he always does before leaning towards you and swearing, “i missed you,”

you ignore the rising heat in your body and grimace before turning around and leaving. you speed to the stair and he insists loudly behind you, “you sent all the gifts i gave you back, what was i supposed to do?”

you are not nice enough to give him an answer, and you know he is going to follow you whether you say anything back or not.

“i literally came from korea just because i wanted to see you,” he whines as he follows you close, climbing the stairs like he is obligated to. “you can’t act like im not here.”

you don’t stop or turn around or even give him a quick glance. “nobody asked you to do that,” you huff, almost at the end of the almost-impossible-to-finish stairs.

“i didn’t ask for your flowers, nor your designer bags nor your luxury pieces of clothes nor your jewelries,” you list, almost arriving at your rooms door and you turn around abruptly. he halts immediately and your are so close that he blushes a little. “i don’t need any of these, i can buy my own.”

“darling, trust me, i know,” he responds with a smile. “i just wanted to spoil you a little bit.”

you put an hand on your door’s handle, “right, i’m sure there are plenty of girls that you want that would love to be spoiled.”

jake’s jaw goes slack— but not in a way that is utterly shocked by the accusation but shocked of you showing something. jealousy. you mentally slaps yourself, closing your eyes.

he leans against the wall next to him, “don’t be like that,” he grins, voice low and soft. “i only want you, you know it.”

there is a silence that sets itself between the two of you. if you could, you would wipe his growing smirk of his face. but you can’t.

you get inside your room and he follows you. you kick him out one minute after.

PARK SUNGHOON 又は ─── THE IT BOY

“this event is boring,” whispered the man as soon as he sits down. his lips dangerously close to your neck, you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “leave with me tonight.”

you turn your head to his direction slightly. his smirk is evident from your peripheral vision, “and why would i do that?”

he doesn’t respond right away and during the time he looks for an answer, your eyes wander on the view in front of you.

it is a beautiful event, you admit. the decorations are elegant and shiny, everyone is dressed in luxury dresses and suits, they dance and they eat.

however, you do admit that you went to funnier ones— you don’t know anyone and the part you were hosting is over. well, there is always sunghoon.

“this event is boring,” he repeats. he is right, you don’t tell him that though. but you do sigh. “and, if you leave with me, i’ll take you to my house.”

you admit that he is quite bold. his relaxed demeanor and the way he says this sort of things so naturally always leaves you speechless for a few seconds.

you face him completely, your lips close to each other, so much that you breathe the same air. he pulls back immediately— he might be bold but he is still a loser.

you smile, totally making fun of him. then you ask, “to do what?”

“i—i don’t know?” he stutters when you come closer. he holds his breath as you keep leaning closer, “have some fun?”

you snort, going back to your original position, completely looking at anything but him, “be a gentleman.” you mock offence, “take me to dinner first.”

he mouths falls open, his eyes grow astronomically wide, “i—i don’t mean it like tha—” he stops as soon as your laugh escapes from your mouth. escapes. because you really meant to keep it for yourself.

he chuckles after a while being starstruck, as if he saw a star for the first time,“you only laugh at me and never with me,” he says and you shrug. “what about, i take you shopping?” it tickles you interest, he knows it. “and i pay everything you want—” he interrupts you when he sees you getting ready to protest. “i know you can buy anything you want. but let me do something for you, my love.”

you can’t lie, you fill pure bliss at the mention of shopping alone and maybe because of the petname he used on you.

you love spending money and the idea of making this arrogant, handsome, cocky spoiled rotten guy bankrupt makes you happy.

“okay,” you finally accept, he gets up immediately and offers his hand to you. you take it.

“after you, my love.”

KIM SUNOO 又は ─── THE CHARMING MILLIONAIRE

“why is no one there?” sunoo’s hand brushes your lower back whereupon you abruptly stop.

the man doesn’t tell you anything in return. only staring at the scenery in front of him. even as you stare at him, he stays quiet— a faint smile creeping on his face. the lights shine in his eyes and they are so beautiful.

everything is so beautiful, him and what he is staring at. you decide to admire it too.

you stand in front of your favorite restaurant, completely empty although it is early in the evening. the jazz music rings in your ears, a beyond angelic melody that you will be unable to forget.

there are a dozen candles on almost every table— except the one in the center of the room. you guess it is where you are both supposed to sit.

you go back to shooting daggers at his side profile. your grip gets tighter on your purse, your pulse gets quicker, you want to kiss him so bad. “please,” you start. “don’t tell me you bought that restaurant for me.”

he finally looks at you. the beaming smile suddenly showing on his face makes your entire spine shiver, “i didn’t, i knew you wouldn’t appreciate it,” he voice harmonized with the music in the back.

for the first time in a while, you don’t say anything back, you are left speechless. he observes you for a while, not speaking. as he always does.

he lifts his head to show the direction of the table in the middle, “let’s go, shall we?” he commands gently. without thinking, you do as you have been told. “good girl,” he adds.

you wander around the place, still a bit in a daze. you are unable to not contemplate the perfectly decorated room. too adoring of everything in the space, you don’t notice sunoo walking faster than you and arriving at the table before you.

he pulls the chair for you to sit, “m’lady,” he teases, watching you sit down politely. he has never seen you so shy. you smile at him as a thanks, pulling his heart strings.

he sits in front of you soon after, “you can order anything you want, the chefs and waiters are all there to serve you.”

YANG JUNGWON 又は ─── THE PROSPEROUS LOVER

your heart jolts after the sound of a tap gets heard from the outside. you look at the clock in front of your bed before looking at your balcony and whatever—or whoever—is outside.

it ticks two and a half at night. you frown, turning your head to see a man staring right back at you and doing a little wave.

the balcony’s automatic light reflects on his blonde hair, shines on his soft skin and he looks as pretty as a prince.

you tilt your head to the side, sighing to show your exasperation— he only smiles brighter at that.

he taps on the window again, and again, even while you walk to him, even while you unlock the glass doors.

“hi, doll,” he greets you, his dimples showing off perfectly. “did you miss me?” the cold air hits your bare skin, getting under your satin pajamas. shivering, you take his wrist in your hand and pull him in. “woah, eager are we?”

you ignore his stupid comment, focusing on closing the doors. still, the cold doesn’t leave your skin. you hug yourself gently, eyes sliding from the top of his head to his feet, “how did you even get in?”

“rose let me in,” of course. it wouldn’t be anyone else but one of your own maids doing that to you. “she said you would be delighted to see me.”

you put your hands on your hips. looking up at your ceiling, you mentally ask for help from higher beings. you don’t know if you can get through this, not this late.

when you look down again, jungwon is still standing, a face illuminated by a genuinely content and amused smile.

you blush, “what do you want?”

“i had something for you,” he tells you as he looks for something in his jacket pocket. when he gets his hand out, a beautiful box appears in his hand. “there.”

you narrow your eyes, hesitantly walking to him. your fingers brush his whereupon you take the box from him, your skin tingles.

after opening it, you get blinded by the stunning pearl necklace in there.

you remember this specific necklace vividly, you told him it was cute, that you might buy it sometime. you didn’t expect him to buy it for you. you didn’t need him to.

you bite your inner cheek, “i can buy my own jewelry,” you tell him. but there is no real bite in your words. “i have boxes full of it.”

“trust me i know,” he grins. “i just wanted to, because i—” he seems in a inner conflict of what he is about to say. you shallow, your mouth goes dry and you hold your breath. “i like you.”

NISHIMURA RIKI 又は ─── THE YOUNG RICH MAN

you meet him at your usual spot.

it is an exploit, really. sneaking out after a family dinner, away from your family and all the people in your house—when god knows how protective they are— is incredible. and you deserve an award for that.

sadly, you can’t stay for long tonight. you left your phone at home and know that it is only a matter of a few minutes before they start to come knock at your door to ask if you are okay or not.

you see riki from a short distance, he doesn’t see you yet and you can tell he is nervous from the way he looks at the big box in his hands.

“hey,” you try to get his attention and succeed. a smile appears on his face, gentle and soft. you mirror it— and send him a little wave.

he clears his throat, the moonlight reflects in his eyes, “hey,” he responds, voice husky.

you nod, your smile is still wide and joyful. but, you get straight to the point. you point at the box in his hands with your chin, “what is that?”

“oh—” he exclaims as if he forgot it was even there. he gaze fall on the box. it’s a cardboard box, in a soft brown. you can read ‘ami’ on it. he offers it to you, “it’s for you.”

it’s your turn now, to say “oh,” but in a softer and more pleased than not tone. you take it.

“i wanted to apologize for being late last time,” he fidgets with the rings of his fingers now that he is not holding anything. his eyes don't quite avoid yours but still won’t look at them for too long. “i know our meetings stress you out.”

too busy being sweet on his nervousness, you observe his cheeks getting redder as he talks instead of thanking him properly. it must stress him out because he doesn’t stop:

“bu—but! you are not obligated to wear it—” he is always so darling. “i mean— you can wear it if you’d like but i don’t want to force you to do—”

you take a deep breath while he stumbles over his words, punching air through your nose. you decide to end is cute misery, “thank you,” you get on your tiptoes to kiss his pink cheek. he blacks out. “i have to go now.”

to be honest, you would have found this gesture cocky and arrogant if it wasn’t riki. but maybe you are a little bit biased.

𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm XI

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: An old face watches a match

She wasn't as young as she once was.

Teaching hadn't originally been her first choice as a job but after finishing school and spending a few years bored senseless as a receptionist, at age twenty-five, she'd made the change to teaching children in their first year of school.

Now, twenty-five years later, she was getting older and her students seemed to be just as wild and excitable as they always had been.

This school trip hadn't exactly been planned by the school, not fully anyway but a generous donation from who knows where had her and a few other teachers taking a three classes of wiggling and excited five year olds to a home match for the Barcelona women's team.

"Let's get to our seats now," She says, trying to get everyone in her class seated and happy but it's like trying to fight a group of wet cats - a losing battle.

"Miss, he pushed me!"

"Miss, I want to sit with my friends!"

"Miss, I can't find my bracelet!"

"Miss, my Mami gave me spending money!"

"Miss!"

"Miss!"

"Miss!"

She sighs to herself, rattling off instructions in a way that only a practiced teacher could.

"Lucas, stop pushing people. We use our nice hands with people. Isabella, you can sit next to your friends if there's space. Ana, your bracelet got put into your bag. Pedro, spending money can be used at half time. Now, everyone needs to sit down or else they won't start the match!"

It takes a little while to get all the kids settled and she briefly thinks about how this would be a hell of a lot easier if the school had more people who could chaperone.

It's a fleeting thought because she knows she can't do anything about it now but still, it would be nice.

Nice like it is now to watch one of her old students walk out as one of the most well known footballers not only in Spain but the world as well.

Alexia Putellas, the captain of Barcelona, leads her team out - head held high and back straight. A far cry from the little girl that used to slump in her seat in class and cry when someone took her ball at breaktime.

There weren't many students that she remembered so well - a handful that have ended up in politics, one that somehow ended up at the UN and one whose arrest made national news.

But Alexia was one of the good ones, helpful and polite most of the time.

She can remember though, with startlingly clarity the second day of classes.

It had been her second day as a teacher ever and she'd been supervising the playground at lunch when Alexia had appeared and dragged her off.

She'd dragged her all the way to the slide where you'd been waiting.

"You have to marry us, Miss," Alexia had said, eyes wide and incredibly earnest," We want to get married."

"Er..."

"You have to, miss," You'd joined in," Because we're in love and my Papa always said that people in love get married."

She'd been speechless then but still done as you and Alexia said, a little charmed by those two little girls begging to be married under the slide.

Alexia was easy to follow now, her exploits known throughout the country on and off the pitch. You'd faded though and your old teacher wasn't quite sure where you'd ended up.

Likely something successful and important.

Even as a little girl, you'd had a good work ethic. Work before play, always, was something you'd abided by.

She could see you as something important now. Your parents were doctors, she's pretty sure, so maybe you followed in their footsteps.

It would suit you, she thinks as she watches Alexia slam the ball into the net for a third time today.

Barcelona wins.

But that's entirely to be expected.

What isn't expected though, is for the staff from the team to invite the classes down onto the pitch to meet the players.

"Carlos, don't run! Mia, don't yell over someone! Lucas, again! Stop pushing people! Everyone will get a turn!"

"Some things never change then."

She turns with a smile. "Alexia."

"Hi, Miss."

"You don't have to call me that anymore."

Alexia's brow wrinkles. "What else would I call you? You've always been my teacher."

"You're an adult now, Alexia. You don't have to call me that anymore if you don't want to."

"But I do. Is that alright?"

"That's okay. So long as you want to."

Alexia beams, the same big smile she had as a five year old when she would come to the desk with a picture she drew of herself in the Barcelona kit.

It's still strange to see that exact image in real life.

"I'd like to introduce you to one of my daughters. This is Maya."

"She's beautiful."

"Mi Amor is just changing our other daughter. They'll be out in a minute."

"It's nice to see that you're doing so well. A good job. A nice family."

"We have dogs too! And my wife's old cat! She built me a house, you know? My wife, that is. Not her cat."

It's nice to see that Alexia's word vomit from her childhood hadn't changed much either. She was so stoic and quiet most of the time but any topic that drew her interest could be (and would be) talked about for hours at a time.

"That's nice to hear, Alexia."

"And we bought a villa in Greece for our next holiday! And I bought her this nice matching bracelet and necklace set! But! You can't tell her because it's going to be a surprise!"

"A special occasion?"

Alexia looks affronted at the idea. "I don't need a special occasion to show my wife how much I love her! Just my love!" She turns, glancing over her shoulder and her whole face lights up. "Oh! Amor, you're back! Look, Miss Rivera is here!"

Miss Rivera looks over to the tunnel where you have emerged from, a babbling baby on your hip and a rock of a ring on your hand.

"Oh, hi, Miss!"

She sighs. "I told Alexia that you two don't need to call me that anymore."

You frown. "But you've always been our teacher. What else would we call you?"

"Miss, this is our new baby Elena." Alexia puffs out her chest proudly. "My wife gave birth to her. Doesn't she look good for giving birth a few months ago?"

You slap her on the shoulder before pressing a kiss to where you just slapped. "Don't listen to her, Miss. She'll take any excuse to talk about it."

Alexia nods solemnly. "It was very scary because there were complications but she's doing so well now. Both Elena and my wife. Right, Amor? She's a doctor, you know. Very successful."

Again, Alexia seems to preen like a peacock as if you being so successful and so smart brought her such pride.

"You've both been very successful," Miss Rivera says," I'm so proud. A long way from that marriage under the slide, huh?"

You grin, intertwining your fingers with Alexia's.

"But still married."

[astraystayyh]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ kiwi princess

in which you’re in love with hyunjin and he asks you to give him a buzzcut. this is so so so domestic and intimate and they’re both obsessed with one another. the fic starts with aftercare so allusion to sex but no smut! mentions of nudity and showering tgtr

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ exactly a year ago i posted a drabble because of hyune’s new burgundy hair and this is dedicated to the insanity that is buzzhyune.. me and hyunjin have a new yearly tradition it seems 🤝 i’ve been having the worst writer’s block so apologies if this is a little rusty.. thank you @hwajin for hyping me up 🥹 i love u

You have come to know the language of Hyunjin’s kisses, memorized the subtle shifts between each brush of his lips against yours.

There’s the good morning kiss, featherlight and drowsy, when you both are lingering still between reverie and waking. His lips find yours instinctively, eyes still closed, as if he’s spent the entire night dreaming of when he’ll kiss you again. As if he couldn’t bear another second spent apart from you.

Then, there’s the quick press of a goodbye kiss, fleeting but still as sweet, as he slips out the door, his keys forgotten and only one airpod in. Yet he’s always stealing that moment with you, his large hands cupping your cheeks, even when time slips through his fingers. He still bends it to his will to make room for you.

And then, the other goodbye kiss, the one that lingers—aching and unhurried—when parting feels too heavy, when his mouth leaves yours only to return, again and again, as if imprinting the shape of his lips onto you, afraid you might forget him in his absence.

And then, there’s now.

Now, when his kisses are slow and weightless, with no urgency, nothing to chase, nothing to ignite. When you are still drifting, when you have yet to regain your footing on earth, when the echoes of your moans still cling to the air, when the taste of your pleasure still coats your tongue, and his, mostly.

It begins with his head nestled into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning against your collarbone. Your hand drifts along his spine in return, following the subtle dip of his back, tracing patterns into his sweat-slicked skin. His body answers even now, goosebumps blooming beneath your touch like he hasn’t tired of you—never could. As if you could break him apart, build him anew, and he would still come undone at the lightest graze of your hand.

His leg hooks over yours, drawing you closer, until his chest melds into yours. He smells sweet—vanilla and wood, laced with something distinctly Hyunjin. But there’s more—he smells like you, your essence tangled into his, leaving no part where you don’t meet, where imprints of your love don’t show.

His heartbeat thrums wildly, echoing not only in his chest but within the hollow of your ribs, as if his soul slipped between your bones to rest inside the shape of you. Perhaps it was always there— because loving hyunjin never felt ordinary. Loving hyunjin felt too magical, too soul-crushing for an affection bound to mortal flesh.

At first, you felt shy—acutely aware of the sweat that glossed your skin, the strands of hair sticking to your forehead, the haze in your eyes. You’d tried to slip away, retreat to the shower, but his hand would always circle your wrist, his voice soft—stay.

And so you do.

His lips find yours again—not driven by urgency, not chasing after more. He kisses you lazily, as if savoring the taste of you, the feel of your lips, the shape of your breath. As if kissing you is not about wanting, but about rejoicing—about holding onto something he knows is already his.

Hyunjin’s body is warm against yours, his hands kneading at your supple flesh, tracing patterns on the soft skin of your waist. He kisses you slowly, his nose grazing yours every now and then, your teeth clashing each time one of you giggles for no apparent reason, smiles sported forth by how innocent this moment feels in hindsight, compared to everything carnally passionate that took place before it.

your fingers thread into the dark locks at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer till your legs tangle like roots pressing deeper into the earth. there’s something so intimate in having him so near, at your most vulnerable form— in the quiet offering of yourself, bare and unguarded, with him as witness and sanctuary. To feel his eyes trace each one of your contours in love, in hunger, like having you pressed to him could not possibly be close enough.

“cold,” he whispers with a soft giggle as your palm presses to his chest. His words dissolve into breathy chuckles when your fingers trail lower, teasing him, and he retaliates by tickling your sides until the pillows surrounding you all fall to the floor.

“Stop—Hyunjin, I’m sorry,” you yelp between gasps of laughter, twisting beneath him. He doesn’t let up, though his lips continue their path along your neck, peppering kisses across your soft skin. Your cheeks flush, and you’re unsure whether it’s from how hard you’re laughing or how his touch feels like the very sun caressing you.

Without warning, he gathers you into his arms, before throwing you over his shoulder. You yelp, legs kicking playfully in the air while your fists drum lightly against his back.

“hyune,” you whine, his name slipping from your lips as he grins, head tipped back in laughter.

“What, baby?” he teases, stepping into the bathroom. Your gaze catches on the mirror, but it isn’t his bare, sculpted, form that captures your attention.

It’s the reflection of both of you—eyes bright, faces glowing with a love so profound it feels as if it could bloom into existence right then and there, expanding to coat the entire universe in the very colors that shape your lover—red, like the flush of his lips, plump and swollen from kissing you breathless, then orange, like the warmth of his hands as they trail softly over your skin, leaving you ablaze in their wake, and somewhat blue, like the glossy sheen of his eyes, deep and penetrating, as they drink you in—whole, bare, and his.

“Here,” he says softly, lowering you to the ground and brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Princess first.”

His hands linger at your waist as he tests the water temperature before he finally guides you beneath the stream.

It’s become second nature, this ritual of showering together—breathy chuckles escaping you both at how terribly cold it is. Though you still have to pretend that him reaching out for your shampoo doesn’t free something delicate inside you, like butterfly wings fluttering against fragile glass.

“Isn’t your shampoo fancier?” you’d teased once, and he only shook his head with a quiet giggle. “I like how yours smells.”

Later in bed, curled into your chest, his ear pressed to your heartbeat, he explained it was more than the sweetness of your scent. It was his need to carry you—in the hollow of his collarbones, in the tangle of his hair. A longing to smell like you, to feel you on him even through something as mundane as soap, as shampoo.

“Your hair’s getting long,” you muse, your fingers weaving through damp strands, twisting them softly.

“Should I chop it all off?” he asks, pouring shampoo into his palms before lathering it into your hair.

When you don’t answer right away, his teeth graze your shoulder, playful and fleeting. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Alright, cannibal Hwang,” you laugh. “Do you actually want to do it?”

“I’ve thought about it, a lot,” he admits, softly.

You turn suddenly, cupping his face, tilting it left and right as if sculpting him with your eyes.

“What… are you doing?” he chuckles.

“Shh. I’m visualizing.”

“Well,” he kisses you, quick and light, like a sudden summer rain, “you’re cute when you visualize.”

“Hwang Hyunjin,” you start, tone solemn, even as a smile threatens to spill from your lips. “You’re blessed with a face card that comes once in a century, a face card that could pay off the world’s debt. A face card that is more powerful than all other face cards combined. If aliens come to planet Earth and we need to show them just one face card to save the human race, it would be yours. Unanimously.”

He groans, burying his face in your neck, though it is not fast enough to conceal the reddening of his cheeks from you.

“Angel, I think the soap’s messing with your head.”

“They hanged Galileo for telling the truth too,” you say sternly, and he twirls you beneath the water once more.

“My point is—you should do it. It’ll suit you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. I’m an expert in Hwang Hyunjin face cards, after all.”

“Stop calling me with my full name,” he whines in your ear, “it gives me weird goosebumps.”

“Apologies my love, my angel, my munchkin, my cinnamon roll, my baby dumpling, my strawberry milkshake, my little eggplant—”

“Okay now you’re just hungry,” he laughs, and the sound seems to trigger your own uncontrollable giggles. You swear the world becomes brighter for a second at the sound of his laugh. As if pierced by a bolt of light sent out just to celebrate Hyunjin’s joy.

And that’s how you find yourself perched on the bathroom sink, half an hour later, a trimmer humming softly in your hand.

“I still think we should sign a contract stating I’m not liable for how this haircut turns out,” you tease.

His pout deepens as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “What happened to your confidence in my face card?” His hands find their place at your sides, and his warm, honey-dipped eyes blink up at you—so tender, so trusting. His face glows, dewy from the moisturizer you pressed into his skin. His lips are tinted red from your cherry chapstick, and his hair is so long, and silky, and soft.

“Shh. We need a moment of silence for your hair. I’m in mourning.”

“Alright, you can take a moment of silence, while I…” his lips brush yours, soft and deliberate, “kiss you.”

“This is highly inappropriate,” you giggle, as you smile into the kiss, “your poor hair. not even a proper goodbye…” you tease, placing a final peck on the tip of his nose.

“Alright,” he nods, puffing up his cheeks, “You can start.”

“Siri, play Long For You.”

He raises an eyebrow at your command, and you widen your eyes in defense. “What? It’s to set the mood.”

The bathroom hushes, save for Hyunjin’s melancholic voice drifting between the tiles. His eyes never leave you, tracing the shape of your face as your hands carefully shave away strands of his hair, his thumbs grazing your sides so tenderly it makes your knees grow weak. There’s something so achingly intimate about this setting, as everything with hyunjin is. To have him so close to you, placing himself in your hands, looking up at you with eyes that drip of adoration.

“Woah…” you breathe when you’re done, a soft smile curving at your lips.

“Do you hate it? Did my face card fail?” His voice wavers just enough for you to hear the insecurity he’s trying to mask.

Your palms cup his cheeks, fingertips tracing the contours of his lovely features as if memorizing him all over again. “You’re beautiful, my Hyune.”

“You mean it?”

“Always. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

Sliding down from the counter, you guide him to the mirror. His reflection stares back, wide-eyed and unsure, as your head rests gently against his arm.

“What do you think?”

“I… love it?” he offers, uncertain, and you giggle.

“Didn’t I do a good job?”

His nod is immediate. “I’d trust you with my actual life. You know that, right?”

You smile softly, tucking yourself into his arms as he pulls you in front of him. His chin nestles into the crook of your shoulder. He’s warm, and he smells like you. And you smell like him. And he’s yours.

“You know… the more I look at it, the more attractive it gets,” he murmurs.

“Of course. You can make even a buzzcut look insanely hot. I hate you.”

He grins, “and my crazy all mighty face card?”

“Precisely,” you laugh. “You know… don’t you think you look a bit like…”

Your voice drifts off, and his eyes narrow with suspicion. “Like what?”

“You do kind of look like a kiwi,” you muse, barely containing your laughter.

“Not again,” he groans, as you dissolve into giggles— “My little golden kiwi princess.”

“You’re insane. And maybe a little cannibalistic. And insane. I mean—do I always have to look like food? What about a flower, what about—”

“And don't you love me still?”

His rant fades as his eyes soften, the teasing giving way to something quieter. His smile is bright, and warm, like a thousand suns colliding into one.

“And I love you. So much more than you’ll ever know.”

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

That’s Not What Friends Do (part 1)

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut, cheating

Request: Lando and the Reader have been best friends since they were babies. Lando has been in love with the Reader since he was a teenager, which is why he has never had a serious relationship. He has flings with girls, but nothing serious. On the other hand, the Reader has been in love with Lando for the past one to two years but thinks he doesn't like her that way, which is why she doesn't propose. Lando is very protective of the Reader, and the Reader is equally protective of Lando.... She knows he sleeps around and is protective of him in a way that she advises him to be smart about who he sleeps with and to stay out of the headlines for anything other than racing. The story starts after the Brazil race, where Lando had a tough time and went without sleep for 24-48 hours. When he returns from São Paulo, he finds the Reader already there, ready to comfort him after a bad race. - I changed it up a bit adding Charles into the story, but I hope you still like it!

"Oh, yes, yes, yes-ah.." The girl moans breathlessly into the pillow as Lando animalistically continues pounding her from behind.

"Just like that, Lando, give it to me" She continues talking even though Lando hates hearing it.

He hates the way his name sounds coming from her lips. He also hates that he's giving her what she wants. And most of all, he hates the fact that once again he's fucking someone else, imagining it washer.

Once he closes his eyes and thinks of your innocent face, it sends him over the edge, he twitches pulling out his cock and cumming inside the condom. "Fuck.." He moans throwing his head back as his thighs shake.

"You didn't have to pull out, you know? You have a condom on anyway" The girl smirks turning to look at him and trying to pull him down to her.

Lando doesn't say anything, he raises his eyebrow at her, barely keeping himself from rolling his eyes at her stupid comment.

He's been with so many girls he can't even count them, but even when he's drunk out of his mind, protection is a must have. He's not fucking around when it comes to that, not when he doesn't even know half of those girls' names. Nor is he interested in their names. All he cares about is emptying himself, giving himself a short-term pleasure and maybe just maybe running into someone who is at least slightly similar to her.

"You're not gonna stay?" The girl asks when he gets up from the bed and starts pulling his pants up.

"No, sorry, I gotta go" With curt, almost no explanations, he always leaves minutes after he finishes. Not that he's proud of it, but to be honest, he doesn't care either.

On the other hand, y/n doesn't spend her free nights the way Lando does. She doesn't fuck around with guys to keep her mind off Lando because she knows that's impossible in a way.

Although she spends some of her evenings wishing she had never seen that article a year and a half ago. It was a perfectly normal Monday night, the day after the race, when after a long flight she finally lay down on her couch, snuggled under the blanket and started scrolling through her phone. At one point, her best friend Ruby sent her an article titled "Friends"? and a picture of y/n and Lando that y/n hasn't stopped thinking about ever since.

The picture captured the moment when, after the race, Lando had both arms tightly wrapped around y/n and was kissing her temple with his eyes closed.

At first it seemed like an ordinary picture, I mean it wasn't the first time they shared a close moment like that before. After all they're friends? Friends do that, right? But the longer y/n stared at it, the more it awakened something in her that hadn't been there before.

When she found herself thinking about Lando and herself at night to fall asleep, she realized she was in trouble because she knew she was in love with her best friend. But since she also knew that the night she was staring at their picture, he was fucking some girl because he himself had told her he was meeting her that night, y/n knew she had to suppress her feelings.

That's where y/n had a little help named Charles.

"Where were you?"

Y/n startles almost screaming when she walks into her apartment and turns on the light revealing Lando on her couch.

"Oh my God, Lando!!" She said, barely able to catch her breath as she held her hand over her heart thinking it would jump out at any second. "You scared the shit out of me! How did you get in here?"

"You gave me the key?"

"I did, but to use it in case of emergency only!"

"You not answering my calls is an emergency" He says and you roll your eyes at him as you take off your shoes. "So?"

"So?" You mimic him.

"Where were you?"

"I was" You sigh. "On a date."

"You were on a date?" He asked a little panicked, following you like a puppy into the kitchen where you had gone.

"Mhm" You mumble, avoiding his gaze. "Ready to conquer Brazil?" You ask trying to change the subject.

"Who were you on a date with?" He asks not dropping it.

"Can we please not talk about it?" You sigh. You really had no intention of telling him anytime soon that you were seeing Charles. You knew Lando was never much of a fan of Charles. Although the reason for that was never clear to you, Lando had actually seen the way Charles secretly looked at you on a couple of occasions, and he confirmed his suspicions when Carlos told him that Charles had said he wanted to get to know you better.

"Why not? Since when am I not allowed to know who you're seeing?"

"Oh please, as if you tell me about every girl you see"

"Well..that's n-not the same"

"Oh really? And by the way, the other day Instagram was full of you and some blonde at a club again. I could see how drunk you were through the picture, you know?" You've scolded him for the umpteenth time already. "You really should be more careful who you associate yourself with, it's getting out of hand"

Lando remained silent because he knew you were right and he hated that he knew you were always right.

"Lando, you know I'm only saying that because I don't want them to talk badly about you and play with your head..."

No one really knew Lando the way you did. After all, you've known each other since childhood, inseparable since you were little. Your relationship has always been one of a kind, both of you very protective of each other. For Lando, it was like he wasn't afraid to hurt anyone but you. You were something that cannot be touched.

"I know, but I don't want to talk about that either." He says. "Are you coming with me to Brazil?"

"No, I'm sorry, Lan. I have a project to finish. I have so much to do and so little time."

"So you have time to date but you don't have time to be there when I need you?"

"H-how can you even say that?" You were offended because that was far from the truth. If anyone was always there for Lando, it was you. You just didn't know he was saying this only out of jealousy and because he had a hard time accepting that you had someone in your life besides him.

"Let me guess, he'll be your moral support while you work on your project?"

Oh, if he only knew that the "moral support" he was talking about would be much closer to him than to you that weekend, he would surely lose his mind.

[clockwork-hearted]

This was the first queer movie I watched in high school. I remember finally having good, strong WiFi and exploring YouTube one night. Was using my refurbished MacBook that I begged my dad to get me so I can have something to use for school.

I don’t remember how exactly I came across this movie (honestly was probably going through some YouTube rabbit hole of “movies where guys make out” or the classic “two men kissing” search), but it was the full length movie. And it was free.

I was so excited to watch it and see what kind of guy on guy action I would get to see. But being forced to stay in the closet growing up, I couldn’t just outright watch this movie while my parents were home.

So I bookmarked it. Made sure I even saved the link somewhere. And had to wait until my parents weren’t home.

Thankfully, I ended up realizing that I was a teen that was allowed to stay up late on the weekends. So I stayed up, waited until both my parents were in their rooms, fast asleep, and then I went into my room, closed the door (couldn’t lock it though. Locking bedroom doors was an offense that would cause a scene every time for absolutely no reason), plugged my headphones in, and snuggled up and watched it.

I remember sitting upright to start it then getting tired and deciding to lay down. Ended up laying the laptop on its side just so I could keep watching haha

And I remember going through the rollercoaster of emotions seeing these two characters having a connection but being so twisted up about it. Regardless of everything they went through, I still wanted that. I still wanted someone I could kiss passionately. Someone I could go to bed with and wake up next to in our own little world. Someone I could go to the beach with and spend all day with. Someone who wanted to push me for my abilities (don’t have any but it played into my fantasies lol) and strive to be the best I could be at them.

And then reaching the end of the movie and being so happy with it. I remember crying. Crying so much that I thought I wasn’t going to be able to stop. I remember shoving my face in my pillows to try and muffle my crying.

Oh, I learned to cry silently so very quick in my home. How I learned what it meant to be even more suppressed than I already was. How I had to learn to hold back all the choking sounds my throat would utter and just let the tears flow. Silently blowing my nose into tissues so I wouldn’t wake my parents and cause a scene.

“Why are you crying? What’s happening? What did you watch? What’s going on? Etc. etc. etc.” - yeah, like I was going to come clean about my emotions and be able to talk these things out. Pht. How I wished and how I dreamed that I could. Would’ve made growing up easier. But I didn’t have those kinds of parents.

So the first night I watched this movie, it meant a lot in such little time. Movies like this really saved me as a teen.

I started doing a deep dive into any and all other queer movies I could find online for free (but that’s a story for a different time).

Tbh, I had forgotten about this gem of a movie. Made me feel a little guilty for forgetting, mostly because it really helped me continue pretending, and knowing that one day I would find someone to experience beautiful moments with. It allowed me to realize that queer media (that wasn’t porn) was out there, that I didn’t have to feel alone, and that it was only a few key strokes and google searches away.

For anyone who read through this whole thing (I know I blabbed, but I really needed to get this off my chest and my mind), thank you.

And I also hope that even though the world can feel so against you, even in spaces that are supposed to be safe, that there are people out there that know and understand you and can relate to how you feel.

I know it’s always easier said than done, but hang in there. And if it all gets to be too suffocating, please remember there are resources out there to help. But please, please, please, don’t get snuffed out. Let yourself burn as bright as you can. Because at the end of the day, you will always find Shelter- whether it’s with family members, friends, teachers, chosen/adoptive families, online communities, etc. you will find it. And you will be safe. And you will be loved.

I wish you all the very best. May this movie and many others bring you as much joy as it did to me. <3

Shelter (2007) dir. Jonah Markowitz

[cheetabites]

☆彡 heavy ˳༄꠶

characters: park gyeong seok (player 246), kang dae ho (player 388), and hwang in ho / 001 / the frontman

˳༄꠶ summary: you’re their younger sister who ends up in the games (alongside them) - platonic headcannons

park gyeong seok (player 246)

★ gyeong seok grew up with only one sibling; and that was you. you’re one of those siblings that has a large age gap. your mom had him first, in her late twenties (around twenty eight) while you were born in her mid thirties (she was thirty five.) after that there was no reason to proceed in having more as she’d already gotten one girl and one boy, and also because she was getting older - she didn’t want to risk the complications that might occur if she did get pregnant again

★ as mentioned before in my other headcannons, gyeong seok is a chivalrous man. despite the age gap, it never stopped him from hanging out with you (even if his friends thought it was embarrassing) - he even considered you as his number one best friend, always picking you as his first choice. there’d be times where on random days of the week he’d just take you to the park just so you could play together; building sandcastles together, picking stray flowers and blowing out all the dandelions you could find - he was one of the main reasons you grew up so happy

★ saying this, when he’d realized that you were in here with him he was so happy - he was in a room filled with strangers, so it was nice to see a familiar face. but after red light green light, he cursed at you for coming to participate in the games; “you shouldn’t be in a place like this,” he said. when you’d told him that you came here to help him pay for na-yeon’s treatment, his heart broke a little bit. of course you would selflessly sacrifice your safety to the unknown just to help, that was so like you. he didn’t blame you after that. instead he just kept you close to him

★ during the six-legged pentathlon you both paired up with eachother (you also stayed together in mingle as well), rejecting all and every suggestion that you would split up; if you were going to die, you wanted to die with him. some part of him though, while he wanted to stay with you, considered splitting up just so that if one of you lost, the other could hopefully make it back to his daughter; he didn’t want her to be left alone and abandoned. you both ended up making it out of there though; but when you were playing your required task and someone would urge and push you to successfully finish it, he’d make sure to shut them up. and when it was his turn and you could see the doubts in his eyes, you would gently take his hand and encourage him

★ when it came to the revolt, you urged him not to fight but he did so anyways. you didn’t let him go that easily though, and went with him - hyun ju made sure you knew how to properly arm a gun - like the baddie she is - before you all went to find the control room. when you were up there with him, you defended him as if your life depended on it. and for my sanity and yours, you both were able to retreat back to dae ho, hyun ju and geum ja

kang dae ho (player 388)

★ you were his only younger sister; and what he liked to believe, his responsibility. he’d been the youngest for quite some time until you came along, and let me tell you that he was so excited to be a big brother. he’d alway touch your mom’s belly just to feel you kick and would sometimes try to talk to you as well

★ you only have three years between you, but he always makes sure to reinforce his ‘oppa’ card. you give it to him though, because whenever you’d call him that he’d light up like a christmas tree. i also feel that when you both were still below double digits, your oldest sister was already in high school. so he was your main playmate who always tried his best to teach you the games they taught him

★ you were only in the games because you accumulated some debt due to being scammed. as for dae ho, you didn’t know he was in debt. so it was a huge surprise when you’d saw each other

★ you stayed together through all the games. it was his duty as your brother to protect you, and he took that serious; he let you hide behind him in red light green light, sacrificed his spot in gi-hun’s group so he could give it to you, and held your hand the whole time you played mingle so you’d never get separated

★ when it came to revolt you thought it was a bad idea for him to go into open battle against the guards. you knew about his ptsd, and you saw how he flinched whenever the sound of the gun rolled off but you couldn’t stop him. when he came back for the magazines though, you could easily spot the tremble in his chin and the frightened eyes that were beginning to tear up. so when he’d dropped it all and cowered back close to the wall, you followed him and held him close to your chest - offering silent comfort as he randomly babbled all the thoughts that were running through his head

hwang in ho / 001 / the frontman

★ the staff obviously knows the names and backgrounds of each of the players that come to these games, but they weren’t aware that you - the frontman’s sister - was recruited. their ignorance wasn’t their fault though, because he’d never revealed his real name to them; so there wouldn’t have been a way for them to know

★ but this man is NOT happy when he sees your photo illuminate on the floor, your number shining down below your shy smile. i’m sure when that moment happened he tilted his head to the black square guard with a ‘what the fuck’ look (although he - the square guard - couldn’t really see the frontman’s expression due to his mask being on.) let’s just say that guard is lucky that he didn’t fire his ass right then and there

★ he’ll order the guards to take you away before the first game can proceed, but he makes sure you’re separated. so you’re basically alone chilling in one of the spare rooms near his quarters until he finally decides to reveal himself to you - which takes a little while since he decides to disguise himself as a player after gi-hun’s stunt

★ he makes strict orders to the guards in regards to keeping you safe and healthy; making sure that you’d stay content while he’s gone. you found the special treatment weird at first, but you only realized how good you had it after you witnessed what happened in the games, provided from the tv that was in your room (oops, he must’ve forgotten to take that out >.<). after that, you cowered from the guards when they came to check on you and offer you food, and remained tense as you thought about your situation; how the hell were you able to get out of this?

★ after mingle ended the tv’s went blank, and you remained bored with nothing but your racing heart and running brain to keep you busy. you were like that for quite some time until the revolt happened - although it was unknown to you. in ho decided that it would be the right time to reveal himself to you once everything was over, and being honest, he was more worried about this more than about the amount of guards he lost.

★ he made his way to your room, heart climbing into his throat. meeting you..seeing you, it reminded him all the more of his last encounter with jun ho. and deep down he just hoped it wouldn’t end the same way. but little did you know, that your fate was already decided; you’d never escape his grasp again

feeling a bit doozy, i might rewrite this later. but i hope you enjoyed! thank you for reading <3!

© cheetabites. don’t translate, claim or repost my works on any platform. jan 5 2025.

[vaguely-concerned]

imagining that while rook is gone, about a week and a half or so in, there's one night where lucanis suddenly appears unannounced in illario's room in the way he has of doing that and which could scare anyone else to death on its own, but of all people in the world illario is the most inclined to only find it mildly annoying to look up from his bad boy Brooding and also facemask-equivalent beauty routine (can't be tragically denied even being doomed by the narrative if you ain't cute) to find his cousin -- now first talon of the crows at least in name -- suddenly staring at him intently and expressionlessly from a few meters away. and when illario (half-jokingly, half-seriously, all-yearningly because crows live bad) is like 'ah so is this finally it are you here to kill me' even with no vengeful purple glow in evidence lucanis just snorts scathingly to show all the seriousness with which he still takes that idea and illario has to wistfully be like 'no, I thought not. so to what do I owe the honour, then, first talon. I figured you'd be pretty busy out there by now'.

and lucanis doesn't say anything at all, just stands there silently for a while and then sits down in a corner of the room with his back against the wall and buries his face in his hands. you have to understand how crucial it is for my vision here that they Do Not talk about it. they never talk about it, not in that moment and not later. illario doesn't have the first idea what 'it' could even be, once he's asked 'is it -- caterina? did something happen to...' (feeling suddenly and absurdly as much like a little boy again as lucanis just had before covering his face) and gotten the slightest headshake in response, nothing else he tries to ask even gets a reaction.

everything is all fucked up and nothing is ever going to be like it used to and the fact that this is where lucanis thought to go about whatever has happened to make his eyes look like that is ludicrous on so many levels and in so many ways. but I do think illario eventually sighs and at least sits down on the floor next to him, leaving a bigger distance between them than he might have once both in self-defense and out of something like consideration. 'I'd ask if you'd like to talk about it, but of course I know you. you never do'. (even with everything else that has happened, illario still knows lucanis better than almost anyone in the world. few things could have convinced him that maybe it really is his cousin in there still quite like this prolonged and complete lack of communication lol.) in the silence they fail to keep each other company in the same way they have for years, but maybe they can at least be honest about it now.

and then when lucanis gets to his feet like this entire very strange silent last half hour never happened to brush dust from his clothes and say he has to go... what can illario really do but go 'sure. great talk, as always. happy to be of service' from the floor as he watches his cousin disappear again into the night. I imagine illario wearing some sort of opulent bath robe or something through this whole thing by the way I think that's an important detail to get in there

[aperrywilliams]

A Bit Rougher (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: You and Spencer have been in a relationship for a little bit more than four months now, and the team doesn't know. One day, the BAU girls ask you by your mystery partner they know you have - even if they don't know who it is - and bring up a topic you are not so sure to share with Spencer yet: your kinky side in sex. What happens when the same Spencer puts a test on you on that matter?

Word Count: 6.5k (I'm not sorry)

Warnings: SMUT/18+/MDNI. Where do I start? Reader sleeps with Spencer (obviously). Talks about sex life. Mentions of tantric sex and rough sex. Mentions of some kinks like choking, spanking, and dom-sub dynamics. Clothes get ripped, Spencer calling you 'my girl' (oh God), masturbation (f receiving), fingering, kind of choking, dirty talk. Spencer does his best as a dom (soft!dom because it can't be any other way), penetrative sex, spanking, begging, more dirty talk, creampie (it really doesn't exist another word for this?), and aftercare. Spencer is the best boyfriend in the world. If I forgot something, please let me know.

A/N: This one was a request. I can't find the original message, and I don't know if the person who asked wanted their name here (I can quickly add it if they want to).

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The moment rays of sunlight peek through the curtain and hit my face, I turn to my back to avoid them, not ready to fully start the day yet.

Still half awake, half sleepy, I can feel a pair of hazel looking at me. I peek one eye open, and I see Spencer smiling at me.

"Good morning, beautiful," he rasps. And I don't know why such simple words have me blushing like a schoolgirl. Beaming, I return the greeting.

"Morning, handsome."

I get my reply with a lingering kiss on my lips, which I fully savored until a sudden thought came to me.

"What time is it? We need to get up."

Spencer, with his calm voice, shakes his head.

"It's a bit early yet. We have time. Also, you have some clothes here, so you don't need to go to your apartment before driving to work."

Smart me for bringing clothes to his apartment. It's an obvious decision, though, considering I have spent more nights here in the past weeks than in my place.

A devilish smirk makes an appearance on my face.

"So, we do have time, don't we?"

"Yes, sweetheart. We do," Spencer mumbles, scooting closer and peppering kisses on my face and then down to my collarbone.

Oh boy, this is what I call a good way to start the day.

-

How much time can you fool a bunch of the best profilers in the country, hiding your relationship with one of your coworkers? Spencer and I keep the count. The mark is set now in four months and two weeks.

It's not that we are embarrassed by what we have or anything close to that. It's just that things started so casually and naturally, and they're running so smoothly, so we want to keep it to ourselves as long as we can.

And by now? It's working.

We have also been careful about it. On our first nights together, we woke up early and went home for a shower and a change of clothes. After some weeks, we started to pack extra in our go-bag. Now, we have at least a change of clothes in each other's places. The second rule is never to get to work at the same time or on the same transportation. Spencer usually takes the metro even if I can drive and make time in the parking lot. Just one day, we did it, and we were so worked up in our making out session that we almost got caught by Morgan, who parked two cars away from mine.

Naturally, any form of PDA at work is completely off-limits. That's the toughest rule to follow. After all, we spend more time at the office and on the road than we do at home, so avoiding any kind of touch is definitely a challenge.

Despite all that, I can't help but feel happier every day as I fall deeper for Spencer. I often feel like a schoolgirl with a crush, constantly distracted by thoughts of him. Clearly, my behavior hasn't gone unnoticed, at least not by the three girls cornering me right now in the BAU kitchen.

"So, are you going to deny you're having fun these days?" Emily teases me while JJ and Penelope giggle in agreement.

"Where did that come from?" I say, intentionally diverting my gaze to the mug I'm filling with coffee.

"It's just basic observation, my dear," Penelope chimes in.

"Basic observation? I honestly don't follow you guys at all," I reply, feeling a bit overwhelmed by this unexpected Tuesday morning interrogation. This time, JJ steps forward with her evidence laid out right before me.

"We have all noticed the changes in you over the past few months—the giddy smile that lights up your face when you read a text on your phone, the new pep in your step, and how you hurry home every time we finish a case. Do I need to say more?"

"Busted!" Garcia points a mocking finger at me. I roll my eyes in fake annoyance. After all, they are completely right.

"Okay, okay. Yeah. I'm seeing a guy. Happy?" I confess, and Garcia squeals.

"Yay! We need to know everything about him."

Oh. That's dangerous territory.

JJ notices my discomfort and tries to ease it a bit.

"Penelope, I'm sure we'll know more with time. Right?" JJ looks at me, and I nod appreciatively.

"Okay. But the basics. Is the guy good?" Emily asks. A silly smile appears on my face.

"Of course he is. He's caring, fun, always attentive-" I'm about to start a rant about how my mystery man is perfect. But Emily's snort stops me at mid-sentence.

"What?"

"Emily is asking if he is good in bed!" Penelope clarifies, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Oh, Lord. What have I got into?

"Are you really expecting me to tell you about my sex life?"

The three girls nod in unison with no shame. Well, I guess I got my answer.

"Like if you haven't done it before. And for what it is worth, we all have said something about it more than once. That's why we created girls's night in the first place," Emily points eloquently, as always.

Touchè. They are right. I have said more than I would like to admit about my sex life. But now it's not that simple. We are talking about Spencer, even if they don't know it yet.

"Then? Is he good or not?"

I contemplate my answer not because I don't know what to say but not revealing more than necessary.

"I don't think good is enough to describe sex with him. The first time we slept together was amazing. The whole night was if you know what I mean. Since then, we have taken our time, savoring the moment, giving, and receiving a new part of ourselves when we do it. So, yes, sex with him is more than good."

"But it could be better," Garcia interjects, and I look at her baffled.

"How's so? Didn't I just say the sex is great?"

The three women nod in agreement, but I think I'm missing something here.

"Don't take it the wrong way, my lovely. We are really happy you are having fun and enjoying yourself," Garcia says, patting my shoulder. "But it sounds pretty vanilla to me. And it's not bad! Not at all!"

I frown, and Emily rolls her eyes, continuing Garcia's idea.

"What Penelope tries to bring here is what we talked back then about your last partner. Remember? The one who liked tantric sex?"

Oh. Yeah. I remember that one. It's not one of my finest choices, if I have to be honest. But it wasn't the guy's fault.

"Yeah. What about him?"

"You forgot how you complained about him being basically a statue? That you wanted it rough, and the guy never got the memo?" Penelope fills in, arching an eyebrow. My cheeks are flush crimson right now.

"I can't believe we are talking about this in the office kitchen," I mumble, embarrassed. "But that was different."

Emily scoffs. "What? Did you change your kinks now? What happened with the choking, the spanking, the begging, and all those things?"

"Emily Prentiss, can you please shut up? This conversation is too much for a morning in the office," I complain, shaking my head to try to cool my red face.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop. But if you are still into it - and I'm sure you are - maybe it's a good idea to share it with your partner. Healthy sex life and all that, so it doesn't happen what it did with the tantric guy."

"Well, thank you all for your concern. But I think I'm good. Now, can we please drop the subject?"

Luckily for me, the girls listened and changed the topic. By the time we leave the kitchen, I feel less embarrassed and ready to continue my paperwork.

But the conversation kept popping into my head from time to time during the day. My sexual preferences haven't changed 180 degrees, that's true, but with Spencer, it's different. I wouldn't want to bring something like that up if it's going to make him uncomfortable. Our relationship is still fresh, and I'm happy with our current sex life.

And talking about Spencer, I haven't seen him the whole morning. By the time lunchtime arrives, he doesn't come back to his desk, so I go with the girls and Morgan.

When we come back from lunch, I finally see him at his desk, concentrating on a pile of files. A smile creeps in my face. He looks so damn good with the crocked tie, messy hair, and shirt sleeves rolled up his forearms. This man has ruined me just sitting there. I'm doomed.

"Hey," I call his attention, and he turns his head to look up at me.

"Hi," he returns a smile.

"I haven't seen you around in hours. Are you okay?"

A frown appears on his face, but he brushes it off quickly.

"Me? Oh, yeah. Fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's just Hotch that had me checking and analyzing a pile of boxes with folders from old cases in the store office. That's all."

It makes sense. Spencer's fast reading is a blessing and a curse, and obviously, people tend to use it often in the office.

"I'm sorry, sure it wasn't a very entertaining task."

A shy smile creeps on his lips, and I have to use all my self-control not to pounce on him right now and pepper his face with kisses.

"It's okay. I'm already done, anyway. How has been your morning?"

"Oh. Mostly paperwork. As everyone. But I think I'll be done soon, too." Before continuing, I check my surroundings to ensure nobody else is listening. "Maybe we can go home early?" I suggest seductively.

The flush in Spencer's cheeks is endearing. It's like the ones I sported this morning when the girls were interrogating me. And they want me to tell this boy about my kinks? No way. I won't do that if it means he won't feel comfortable with me again.

"We could. But I'm afraid plans will have to wait," Spencer says as his gaze shifts from me to Garcia and the quick tip-tap of her heels, heading to the conference room.

Fuck. A new case.

-

Don't get me wrong. I love my job. But being stuck in the middle of the desert, looking for an unsub that seems to be a ghost? And I say 'ghost' literally because we are looking for a guy who is dead for the town records. No, this is not my idea of a 'normal work day.'

It's frustrating, and not only for the lack of progress. The heat here is like hell. The AC barely works, and everyone's mood is bitchy.

We are not making any progress by now, so Hotch sends us to the hotel for the night. Once in my room, I text Spencer, not with an explicit purpose but to talk to him for a while. But he doesn't answer my texts. Is he sleeping by now? Considering he's a night owl, I found it very rare. But maybe he's drained like everyone else, so I let it slide.

In the morning, after my shower, I'm checking my phone, and I don't have any messages. Has Spencer received my texts?

I don't want to sound paranoid, but it's like something is going on. At the precinct, I barely get a hello from Spencer. Okay. Maybe it's the stress. I don't give it too much thought, either. Not when we have work to do.

And boy, we have been working hard on this one. Some clues give us hope, but we're far from catching the unsub.

In the little spare time we have between interrogations and visiting dumping sites, I try to share moments with Spencer, but it definitely seems like he doesn't want to be alone with me in the same room, even if he doesn't say it or shows signs of annoyance or animosity towards me.

I can't tell why he is so distant, but it's starting to worry me. Did I do something? And it's killing me because the more I think about it, the more I miss him. A kiss, a hug, anything from him would ease the ache I'm starting to feel.

It doesn't help that he has been choosing to wear the sexiest clothes he has in his go-bag. Those tight grey pants that accentuate his ass, those button-ups with sleeves rolled up.

We have been here for six days, and I think I'm going crazy. I have been trying to be subtle and professional. But I swear that if one more day goes by without being able to feel Spencer's touch, I don't know what I'll be able to do.

It seems heaven has listened to me because we finally managed to catch the unsub, and we're on the jet on our way home. But I'm nervous. I didn't even want to sit next to Spencer like I usually do. I don't know why. What if he wants to break up with me, and I'm just dragging things out?

What the hell am I talking about? I don't believe I'm thinking clearly here. But this week has been so odd that I don't know what to think.

Maybe when we land, I can finally talk to Spencer and put an end to my overthinking. With that in mind, I doze off for the rest of the trip.

Once the jet is down, I'm starting to gather my things when I hear Spencer rushing out, saying goodbye to everyone.

Disappointed and frustrated, I leave the tarmac.

Maybe a full night of sleep in my bed isn't a bad plan after all.

But be that as it may, fuck you, Spencer Reid.

-

As if all that had happened wasn't enough, when I got to the parking lot, my car fucking didn't start. I knew I had to get it checked before.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

That delayed my arrival home for another 45 minutes.

Now, disappointed, frustrated, and with no car, I slam the door shut. The apartment is pitch black, and I have no energy to flick the lights on, so I drag myself to the bedroom. When I open the door, a yelp escapes my mouth when I see a silhouette of a man sitting in the chair I have in one corner.

I'm about to reach for my gun when the bedside lamp flicks on, and the scare turns to confusion when I see Spencer sitting there.

"What the fuck!"

"Hi," he says as if he hadn't almost scared me to death two seconds ago.

"Spencer! What are you doing here?" My voice sounds harsher than I intended, but Spencer brushes it off quickly.

"Waiting for you," he says matter-of-factly.

I'm officially confused. We were together an hour ago? He left without saying anything.

"I don't understand. The way you left the jet in such a hurry, I thought I was the last person you wanted to be with."

My words come out resentful, but I can't help it. Spencer's eyes soften. I averted his gaze as I dropped my go-bag, unholst my gun to set it on the safe, and sat at the end of the bed to remove my boots.

"Hey, don't say that. Of course, I want to be with you," Spencer says, standing from the seat and kneeling to help me remove my boots.

"I'm sorry, but it didn't show that way. You avoided me all week!"

Great, now I sound like I'm making a tantrum.

From his place where he knelt on the floor, his eyes met mine, and I don't know why suddenly I felt a shudder running down my spine.

"Sweetheart, you know we were working, weren't we?"

That condescending tone escaping Spencer's lips? It is something unexpected. But why does it make me kind of nervous? It's a type of nervousness that gives me butterflies in my stomach.

"I know! But- but then in the jet. And you left."

Why am I babbling? Since when did Spencer have looked at me with those piercing eyes?

He stands and offers me a hand to help me to do the same.

"Is my girl upset?" He asks when we are both upright.

'My girl'? That's new. Spencer always calls me by my name, a short version of it, or beautiful, or sweetheart. But thinking about it, 'my girl' doesn't sound bad at all.

"No! I'm not-"

"Oh yes, you are. Look, I wanted to prepare a surprise for you tonight, so I left in a hurry. I was thinking about a bubble bath, dinner, wine, and a movie. I even had the table done with candles ready to lit," he says nonchalantly, and I feel silly for thinking the worst scenarios all week.

"Oh," is the only thing escaping my lips.

"But now, thinking about it, maybe you don't deserve it. Not if you're questioning me like this," Spencer shakes his head in fake - I hope - disappointment.

Okay. Stop right there. What the hell is going on here? Why is Spencer talking like that? About me as 'not deserving' something? What's next? That I'm a naughty girl? - Uhm, I wonder how it could be hearing those words from his lips.-

"What? Why I-"

"Come here," he requests as now he is the one who sits at the edge of the bed and pats the spot in his lap. It doesn't sound too commanding, but sure as hell, I don't need anything more to comply. I need to know where this is heading.

As I'm at Spencer's reach, he pulls me by my wrist to land on his lap while his other hand cradles my face.

"Tell me, uh? Why are you upset?"

His voice drips like honey, and I start to feel hot here.

"I- I don't know. I just missed you, I guess."

"You guess?" He arches a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes. I mean, I do know. I have missed you," I confess, defeated. Oh yeah, now I'm the needy one.

"It helps if I say I have missed you, too?" he says, caressing my cheek tenderly with his knuckles. "I have seen you tense all week; that's why I thought I could do something special for you tonight."

I close my eyes, and for the first time tonight, I let myself enjoy Spencer's embrace.

I exhale a heavy breath as I get lost in his arms.

When I open my eyes, Spencer's are fixed on mine. But his look is not as sweet or reverent as it usually is when we are like this. No, this one is dark and raw. His pupils are fully dilated, and I feel like the breath leaves my lungs.

"Spencer-" I barely mumble.

"I know," he whispers, moving one hand to cradle my neck and bring my lips to his.

Oh God, what I have been craving for days is finally happening, and I can't stress enough how happy I am.

The kiss starts slow and sensual. But not far from that, it gets needy and messy, charged with all the pent-up emotions from the past days. If I had any doubt about Spencer's distance in the last week, this kiss quickly eased my anxiety.

My fingers go to undo the buttons of his button-up, but Spencer stops me with one of his hands, grabbing both of my wrists.

Why didn't I notice before how big and strong his hands are compared to mine? I mean, I always admired his long and deftly fingers, but this? Wow. It's new territory.

"But I want to touch you," I pout when he keeps hold of my wrists in his hand. The cocky bastard raises an eyebrow, contemplating my request.

"You will have to be patient this time and earn it, darling," he says casually, and as my eyes go wide, my jaw goes slack. These words have never come out of Spencer's mouth before. But why am I suddenly starting to feel hotter and more worked up? I blame it on sex abstinence.

"Please, I have missed you so much," I insist, trying to escape his grip to get what I want: undress him. But he doesn't budge, tsking his tongue.

"I already told you. You need to earn it. To my knowledge, only good girls get what they want, and I don't think I'm wrong, do I?"

Jesus Christ! I had never heard Spencer say 'good girl' before, and I'm sure now I'll be addicted to hearing it every chance I get.

"Spencer, please. I'll do anything. I promise. I want to be a good girl. I want to be your good girl."

Spencer's smirk tells me he likes my response, and I'm not at any ounce ashamed of sounding desperate.

He maneuvers me so that I am now on my back on the mattress. I watch his every move intently, and I get lost in his gaze, which screams lust and desire.

He kneels between my spread legs, staring at me intently as his hands move to the edges of my blouse. Just when I think he's going to work on unbuttoning it, he grabs it and rips it open.

A yelp escapes my lips at the raw sound and the view of buttons flying. Spencer doesn't seem fazed by his display of caveman style. And me? I won't mind if he rips all my clothes right now. His hands go to caress my breasts over the fabric of my bra. And then pull it down to free the skin. The cool air quickly stiffens my nipples.

Spencer leans down to suck one of them, twirling the other one with his fingers. A moan escapes my lips at the pleasure his touch is giving me.

"You like that, uh?" he mumbles, still with his mouth sucking and lapping.

"Yes!" I say, as my hands fly to his hair so I can ground myself in something.

After giving enough attention to both of my nipples, he helps me to get rid of the fabric of the ruined blouse and my bra. Now his mouth is sucking a hickey under my jaw, and I feel like I can faint of how aroused I am. One of his hands goes south and stills at the button of my work pants. His breath is hot in my ear.

"I'm going to take care of you. If I do something you don't like, just say it, okay?"

That's a sliver of the Spencer I know, and I can't even think of something this man can do to me that I wouldn't like.

"Okay," I manage to blurt when his fingers work on my pants, leaving me clad only in my panties in a matter of seconds.

Under his intense gaze, I feel exposed, but I also feel safe. There is no place where I would rather be right now.

"You're gorgeous. You know that?" Spencer says, trailing feather touches on my skin aflame with desire. "You don't know what you do to me, do you? I barely can control myself," he continues his praises, thumbs toying with the waistband of my panties.

I'm about to combust.

"Spencer, please."

"What is it, my girl?" he asks, kissing my neck as his fingers slide down my legs, removing the soaked fabric that used to cover my most intimate part.

"I - I need more."

"Are you already desperate for me?"

I can feel how his fingers trace soft patterns in the skin between my thighs, explicitly avoiding the spot where I need him the most.

"Yes! I am. I - I can't-"

I don't even care if I sound coherent at this point. I'm already so turned on and desperate that I can't be bothered by my lack of speech. Spencer still doesn't budge, though.

"I know you want to beg. And I know you can do better than that."

Oh God. I don't know how Spencer's words manage to make me more aroused, but they do.

"I need you," I croak, eyes pleading him to take me. I can feel his fingers ghosting my throbbing clit.

"I need you, sir. Please. You can use me whatever you want, but please, touch me!"

What the fuck? I just called Spencer' sir' and offered my body explicitly to him to use. And the bastard doesn't even flinch? Who is this guy in full control, and who am I acting like a pathetic submissive?

I don't have the answers, but honestly, I don't care. Did he want me to beg? If this isn't begging, I don't know what it is.

"I know you do, baby. Do you think I didn't notice how needy you have been all week? How have you tried to get my attention all these days?" Spencer's voice drops almost two octaves as his finger finally starts rubbing circles on my clit.

Just feeling his touch makes me whimper pathetically.

His lips ghost in my ear, and I can feel his breath heating the spot before his teeth nibble my earlobe.

A mewl leaves my mouth, and if I wasn't soaked before - which I was - now I'm dripping.

"Tell me, this is what you wanted?" His voice is commanding but feels like honey leaking on my body.

"Yes! Please, don't stop."

His movements are deliberate and precise, and when he buries a finger into my core, I can feel the coil in the pit of my lower belly beginning to form. My moans increase in number and volume.

"So needy, my sweet girl. Like that? That's how you want me to touch you?" Spencer coo as he watches me tremble under his touch, adding a new finger to fuck me.

His ministrations continue, but his free hand moves slowly from my cheek down to my neck, caressing the exposed skin with his thumb.

"Or maybe you want me to touch you like this?"

A mewl escapes my lips when he poses his open palm over my throat, not squeezing but seizing how much of my neck he would be able to cover with his huge hand.

"Yes! Please, do it. Please Spencer," I babble, feeling my orgasm closer and closer. And he complies. Applying the minimal pressure in my throat is enough to highlight all of my senses. That, plus the way his ring and middle finger pound in and out of me and his thumb toy with my clit at the same time, sends me to the edge.

"Spencer!" I scream as my climax washes over me.

I don't remember having an orgasm like this in a long time. My vision blurs and I feel like I'm floating on a cloud of pleasure that I don't want to come down from. I can hear Spencer's encouraging words in the distance as he helps me ride my orgasm.

"That's it, my girl. You did so good for me. See how good I can make you feel?"

With hooded eyes, I see Spencer sucking clean the fingers that were fucking me seconds ago.

"You taste amazing. I'll never get tired of it," Spencer says, with a satisfied grin on his face.

Still dizzy, I gesture for him to come closer. When he does, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for the most passionate kiss my current post-orgasmic state will allow. I can taste myself on his tongue, and it is like my sex drive reminds me I want more. I need more.

"Please, fuck me," I mumble between kisses, and I can feel the smirk forming on his lips.

"I just did that," he states when we part from the kiss. "Are you being ungrateful?" Is he joking? I hope he does, but I won't take the chance of not having his dick in me tonight.

"No, baby. I'm thankful for the way you have touched me tonight, but I want you to feel good, too."

Spencer looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that so? Are you willing to do what I want to make me feel good? It's not only for your benefict?"

"Yes! Whatever you want. I'm yours. Take me the way you want to do it. Whatever you want to give me."

I don't know at what moment I became this kind of submissive, but if I have to beg again to have Spencer inside me, I will do it without complaining. And considering he's still fully clothed, I don't know what kind of plan he has right now.

"On your elbows and knees."

It's simple, and the moment the words leave his mouth, I move quickly to obey.

Unfortunately, from this position, I can't see Spencer, but I can hear him undressing. When I listen to him undoing his belt buckle, I have to do everything in my power not to rub my thighs together in search of some friction. And Spencer notices.

"I can bet you're dripping again. Don't you?"

The anticipation is killing me. When I feel the mattress dip with Spencer's weight, I can't stop the mewl that leaves my lips. It doesn't help when he presses his body to mine, and I can feel his hard cock pressing my ass.

"Can you feel what you do to me? I want to fuck you so bad. I want to ruin this pussy." Spencer's voice is husky and low, almost predatory, and I can't wait to feel him.

While we've used dirty talk before, I think this is the first time I can feel it coming naturally from Spencer. I'm usually the one with the filthy mouth.

When I feel his tip teasing my entrance, I instinctively push my ass back, gaining a laugh from Spencer.

"Be patient, once inside there is no coming back." Before I can say anything in reply, I feel him push his cock between my folds, and the stretching is painfully delicious.

"Oh, fuck!" I yelp as I hear Spencer hissing when he bottoms it out. He is still there, grabbing my hips to keep me from moving.

"So warm. So tight. Made for me," he mumbles, leaning to kiss my shoulder blades.

"Just for you, it was made for you," I agree, in a new state of pleasure and urging him to move. Spencer pulls back almost completely, only to thrust hard again, setting a slow but deep pace.

"That's my girl, taking everything I give her. You wanted this, didn't you? I know you do. Fuck! So good for me."

Another thing I'm not used to is Spencer being a talker during sex. I mean, yeah, he's very vocal, moaning, whining, cursing, and so am I, but his words are now taking me there faster than I expected.

"Spencer, yes! Don't stop, please!"

"I won't, baby, I won't. Not when this pussy tighen me like this."

His pace quickens, and in the room, you can only hear the sinful sounds of skin hitting skin, our moans, and the dirty words escaping Spencer's mouth.

"Spencer, please, harder," I beg to him. I don't know why, but I want to go to my limit, and I trust Spencer. I need it. He's quick to deliver, and with every thrust, I'm entering into a new space of ecstasy.

He is pounding me harder, and my broken moans are testimony to the brutal pace he leads. I can feel him hitting in all the right places.

"Like that?" He asks, panting in my ear.

"Y-yes."

"I can't hear you, darling," the bastard demands, not faltering his thrusts.

"Yes! Fuck, yes! Like that! Oh, fuck-"

My voice cracks when I feel a sharp smack in my ass.

And I can't stress enough how good it feels and how it helps the ball forming in my lower belly to grow.

"What a sight. You should see how my fingers are red imprinted on your skin," Spencer says, amazed with his doing, not ever slowing his thrusts, and I can feel closer to a new earth-shattering orgasm.

"We need to even the score, right baby?" I can't even catch what he's talking about when I feel a new smack in my other ass-cheek. And then I lose it. I'm teetering to my end, and I need Spencer to fall with me.

"Spencer, I'm so close. Please, I need-"

"Are you going to come? That's what you're trying to tell me?"

"Yes! I need to cum, please-"

"I'm right there with you, my girl. Come on, cum on my cock. Show me how you fall apart because of me."

And I did. My orgasm crashes me like a freight train, screaming Spencer's name once and again until my throat goes dry. He keeps his pace, chasing his own end, and after three deep thrusts, he stills, and I feel him spilling inside of me, grunting as he does so. The feeling almost makes me cum again.

We stay in that position for a few moments, him inside me and trying to catch our breath. I feel like I'm out of this world, savoring the post-orgasmic euphoria of the best sex of my life.

Spencer pulls out, and I hiss at the loss of him. Carefully, he helps me turn over and lie down to rest my back on the mattress. I close my eyes, regulating my breathing, content and completely satisfied.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks me, but I'm still lost in the haze of pleasure. I can barely acknowledge the moment he goes to the bathroom to bring a warm cloth to clean me up.

"Uh? Yeah. Amazing." My words escape before I can process them, but I'm not lying. And I can feel the tons of endorphins running in my brain right now.

"Are you sure?" Spencer checks again. And because I'm more alert now, I can see his worried eyes.

A tired smile forms on my lips as I turn to the side and bring a hand to his cheek.

This man just has fucked me senseless, and now he sees me with those panicked eyes as if he had broken me. And maybe he did, but in the best way possible.

"I'm fine, Spencer. I'm more than fine, actually. That was something else," I confess, caressing his jaw. He lets out a breath of relief, and his cheeks turn a shade of pink.

"So you liked it?"

"Liked it? Did you just forget how I was screaming your name just minutes ago?" A satisfied chuckle escapes Spencer's lips. "But I need to know something," I prompt, propping myself on one elbow to have a better view of Spencer's face.

"What is it?"

"Where did this idea come from? It's not like you woke up one day and said, 'Next time, I'm going to choke her and spank her,' right?"

"Well, yeah. It wasn't that kind of spontaneous idea, even though I have thought about it before," Spencer looks at me sheepishly.

"Yeah? Well, then?"

"I heard you. Talking with the girls the other day at the BAU's kitchen." I narrow my eyes, trying to pinpoint the exact moment, and when recognition washes over me, my entire face flushes.

"Oh, God."

"I know I did wrong. It wasn't a conversation for me to hear, but you were talking about your mystery man, and I - I don't know, curiosity got the best of me."

Spencer looks apologetic, and I feel kind of embarrassed right now. It's funny for two people that minutes ago were fucking like there is no tomorrow.

"Don't apologize. It's my fault for spilling those kind of things in the office kitchen." Wait a minute. "From what part you heard?" Spencer purses his lips in thought.

"The part when you admitted seeing someone."

"So you heard when I said I was happy with our sex life, right?" He nods. "Why did you feel compelled to try something different, then? I'm not complaining at all, but I don't want you to feel obligated to do something because of me."

Spencer shakes his head. "I don't feel obligated. I wanted to. But can I ask why you didn't tell me what you liked before?"

That's a valid question, and I don't want to make him feel like I don't trust him because it is not like that.

"It's just- I mean, I love what we have. And I'm falling for you even more each day. I don't want to lose that, and I thought maybe I would have made you uncomfortable saying those things. I didn't want that."

Spencer's eyes glisten with warm understanding. How could I have doubted that he would comprehend? One of his hands goes to push back a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"I love what we have, too. And you won't lose this or me if you share those things with me. I know I'm not the best example of a sharing person, but I'm learning to do that with you. And I want you to be happy and satisfied in this relationship."

"I really am. Seriously!" I quickly reply. God forbid Spencer from thinking I'm not happy and satisfied because it's far from the truth.

"And I'm happy to hear that. But there is no harm in experiencing new things, right?" He says, caressing my cheek.

"You really mean it?" Spencer nods and chuckles.

"It's not an altruistic offer, you know? I pretty much enjoyed what we did tonight." Only remembering what we did minutes ago brings a wide grin to my face.

"Sure you did. Okay. We can keep trying things. One condition, though."

"Name it," Spencer states, opening his arm for me to scoot closer to his side, which I happily do.

"I want you to choose the next kink to explore," I request, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction.

With narrowed eyes, Spencer is contemplating his answer. After a few seconds, his lips turn into a mischievous smirk, and he looks back at me.

"Have you heard about temperature play?" he asks, and I immediately bit my lower lip in excitement.

What can I say? This man is full of surprises, and I'm the lucky one who will experience all of them. I can't wait.

------------------

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

[heartsfromia]

critical inquiry — l. jihoon

pairing: non-idol! jihoon x reader

word count: 6,018

genre: fluff, workplace romance, reader isnt tech-savvy, jihoon kinda gives loser (endearing) energy

warnings: valorant (jk), profanities, proofreader? i hardly know her

author's notes: get me an IT guy like jihoon y'all, also idk i struggle when writing in mainly the guy's pov bro i cannot think like a man, can they be pathetic, yearning beings? idk bro

Lee Jihoon loved one thing about his job—working from home. With enough people in his team to cover tasks both from the office and at home, they're given the option to work either and Jihoon always picks home, time after time.

Until today, when Jihoon had received a message that his Work-From-Office buddy would be taking time off work for the next week because his grandfather fell ill, and he was asked to go back home for the time being.

“Only a week, Jihoon, and I swear you can go back to your PC set and slippers,” Wonwoo had reassured him, but it still wasn’t enough, “I’ll even help you rank up to Ascendant 3.”

So, that was how Jihoon found himself waking up at seven and taking public transportation to the office because his car was at his parent’s, and honestly, he wasn’t close with anyone to the point where he’d ask for a lift.

During the entire trip on his first day back to the office, he cursed the corporate slave routine. To think that before social distancing, that we would wake up at the crack of dawn to beat traffic or the commuter rush, go to a job that we’re not even sure we enjoy (spoiler: we don’t), and then have to go through that same rush and traffic when going home, only to sleep and reset the routine for the next day. As an IT support member, being in the office was the most useless and time-consuming thing. The Wi-Fi at his office is crap, the computers are old and laggy because the company doesn’t want to invest in better quality technology, and the team leaders are always breathing down your neck—but, hey, at least they compensate those that choose to come to the office.

One thing that Jihoon was grateful from the pandemic was the normalization of working from home. Having the option to attend the 10AM meeting, waking up at exactly 9:50 AM—clocking in—then joining the Zoom meeting without having to shower, change out of your pajamas, or even get out of the bed was something that was too good to be true. Alas, it happened, and he had been thriving and taking advantage of his Work From Anywhere policy in his company. Granted, he is only able to continuously work from home as long as there were two team members working from office, and luckily enough, that condition was met for the past six months

“This is new,” Hansol quipped when he spotted Jihoon signing at the entrance of the office. “Ah, Wonwoo is taking time off, right?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon muttered, most of his face hidden under a mask and cap, with his eyes peeking through the lenses of his glasses. “Do you think there’s coffee in the kitchen?”

“Obviously,” Hansol chuckles, finding the question obsurd. Can you blame Jihoon? The ceiling in the entrance of the building is almost falling apart from mold forming because of rain, and their computer to clock in was an old ASUS model from 2014 that can only function on a LAN cable—which is why its only purpose in this marketing agency was for signing in.

Sometimes Jihoon even wonders how the company can last for the past decade with its cheap ways.

He made his way to the second floor where the pantry, and overall kitchen was placed, making himself a cup of coffee before climbing the next step of stairs to the IT room—the main base for programmers and the support team. Another thing he hated about working from the office was the fact that the AC in his office just never seems to function. It’s the middle of summer, the city is going through a massive heatwave, and here, in his company placed in the smack middle of the city, they have a policy to not let the AC go anywhere under 23°C.

At least, when he is in the comforts of his own home, he can have the AC go as low as it can get, all while still in his pajamas, and could even multitask with Valorant opened in another tab.

“Oh, Jihoon, you’re switching with Wonwoo, right?” Jeonghan asked, turning in his chair and pushing his glasses up above his head.

“Yeah, I am, where does he usually sit?” Jeonghan taps the desk on his left, and watched as Jihoon got settled, a glint in his eyes that the younger one spotted. “What?”

“Did Wonwoo tell you anything?”

“Other than keeping my Google chat opened, nothing really,” he responded.

“You’ll be handling his division, too, right?” Jihoon nodded. “The Marketing team.” Rather than a question, Jeonghan confirmed the division, and once again, Jihoon nodded. A crease formed between his eyebrows, unsure of what his senior was referring to, and the latter noticed, chuckling at his puzzled expression. “You’ll see.”

It’s too early to understand what he means. Usually, he’d still be asleep right now if he were at home, especially since there aren’t any meetings he needs to attend today, he could’ve slept until three minutes before he required to clock in. He wasn’t use to having to be on work-mode even with ten minutes before his shift officially starts.

God, I miss working from home.

The first few hours into the shift was tedious. Since the company is a small PR agency, as a member of the in-house IT team, he’s required to wear multiple hats and take on various tasks. Unfortunately, since he is replacing Wonwoo for the time being, he’ll be taking on the task of Website management and ensuring that the Marketing team didn’t have any issues, as well as any technical issues the team might face, which is inevitable as their equipment is, as mentioned, crap quality. Every day Jihoon wonders why he claims to resign from the place but never does.

“Let’s grab lunch across the street,” Jeonghan invited Jihoon once the clock had struck twelve, signaling lunch time for all employees. Jihoon was about to agree and turn his computer to sleep mode when a ding! notified a message had come in. He rose a hand, indicating for his senior to wait a moment as he checked the message. He hadn’t received any complaints during the first half of the day from the team he was in charge of so this was a bit unusually for him.

It was a message from you.

Y/N: Afternoon, Jihoon. This is Y/N, and I’m new from Saerom’s team. Y/N: I was told by Wonwoo that he’s currently on PTA, and to message you instead. I have an issue with my Google Analytics account, I’m currently logged out and usually Wonwoo helps me with that because I haven’t been given my password (it’s been two weeks I’ve started 😅). Y/N: Can you help me with this?

“Who’s that?” Jeonghan ducked down, looking over Jihoon’s shoulder as he read the message, then a chuckle left his lips. “Ah… it’s Y/N, she’s a new, and struggles with a lot of the tech things—you’ll be meeting with her a lot.”

“She’s bad with tech and chose to be a social media specialist?”

“Ironic, huh?” Jeonghan laughs. “But she means well, even though she sucks with tech, she has good ideas and already has a viral TikTok video for one of our clients.”

“And she says she hasn’t been given her passwords? Aren’t we supposed to give it to them when they start?”

“Yeah, but usually they don’t ever log out, only she has that case,” he explains, the corner of his mouth lifting before he pats his junior’s shoulder reassuringly. “Just head on over there and help her, it doesn’t take more than ten minutes.”

Jihoon heaved a sigh, reluctant to help because of how tedious and unnecessary and easily avoidable this problem would’ve been if she’d had her hands on her account passwords.

Jihoon: Lee Saerom’s team? Y/N: Yes Jihoon: Alright, wait a minute Jihoon: On my way

“Are you dining in or taking away?” Jihoon asked Jeonghan, while he wrote down the password for your account on a sticky note.

“Dining in.”

“I’ll meet you there then.” With that, Jihoon tossed his cap off and trudged down to the second floor where Saerom’s team should be located. Since it was lunch time, most of the office space was empty, with only the office boy who was busy sweeping the floors from the aftermath of earlier today. He found the main room for the Marketing team fairly quickly, and didn’t have to look far for you as you were the only one in the room, seated in front of your computer, shoulders stiff and hands placed on your lap as if you were starting your first day.

Immediately upon hearing the creaking of the door, your eyes met above the desks and monitors, and for a brief second, Jihoon paused—almost shell-shocked as to finding someone like you working in a rundown company such as this.

“Y/N?” Jihoon called out, just making sure despite the obvious newbie aura that wafted around you.

“Yes… Are you Jihoon? The one covering for Wonwoo?” He nodded, and you were almost sure he’d say something to follow up to prevent an air of awkward silence from appearing between the two of you. He did not. Instead, he barely uttered anything as he approached your desk. You didn’t hesitate to push away with your chair to let him take the reigns and input your account. How you were able to stay logged out of the account and not have said anything earlier was unbeknown to him. You had been finishing up last week’s reports, but had only moved on to Google Analytics just twenty minutes ago. You’d usually have your account still logged in, always clicking the Remember me, however, to your surprise, you were logged out.

“This is your password.” Jihoon handed you the sticky note. “If you need any more help, you can just message me—Wonwoo is on leave for the next week.”

“A-alright.” Maybe it was the way he carried himself that intimidated you. Or the fact that he never made any attempt at small talk, thus, a tense and awkward air floated in the space between you two. Maybe it was his tone, lacking the usually bounce you’d usually hear from Wonwoo as he explained the mechanics of Hootsuite.

It is definitely his aura, it’s ice cold, you couldn’t help but think and maybe when he wasn’t looking, you’d shiver. “Thank you,” you uttered, and with a stiff smile, he nodded and left the room without anything further, leaving you to finish the last half of your report alone.

If you need any more help, you can just message me.

And that’s how it started, a back and forth of at least twice a day since that first exchange between you and Jihoon. At first, you had to introduce yourself again, despite the fact you were using Google Chats and your name was clearly displayed. After a brief introduction, you explained the problem at hand, then after a minute or two came Jihoon’s go-to reply.

Alright, wait a minute.

On my way.

The first couple of times, you almost thought it was an automated response he had somehow coded every time someone messaged him. Maybe he had set it so that after a couple of messages from the sender, it would trigger the short response from his end, however, you learnt that it was just purely him when your own messages grew shorter and shorter.

So, short to the point that this was your most recent exchange:

Y/N: Jihoon :( Jihoon: On my way

Thus, it became almost a routine for the two of you. Jihoon didn’t have any complaints, despite Jeonghan’s claims that the junior would usually complain from having to go back and forth, ascending and descending the same set of stairs more times than he should be. “Aren’t you tired?” Jeonghan had asked on Thursday after Jihoon had returned from helping you with the extension cord for the presentation you had scheduled the afternoon.

Jihoon merely shrugged. “I barely get to exercise with coming in.” Of course, as Jeonghan has been working with Jihoon since he started, he could tell the guy was bluffing, hiding whatever his true intention was behind his nonchalant facade, but he never said anything. Sooner or later the truth will come to light.

Jeonghan wasn’t the only that could tell that was a different air hanging around the avid-WFH-over-WFO tech employee, and whatever gossip that surrounded him managed to reach the ears of the guy he was covering for as the two got into a game of Valorant Thursday evening. As the two waited for a match to be found, Wonwoo informed him that his grandfather was feeling better and could be released from the hospital by Saturday morning.

“Oh, that’s good to hear, glad he’s doing alright,” Jihoon offered, although a bit half-hearted as he was eating his dinner by his desk at the same time.

“Yeah, and by Monday you can return to your world of working from anywhere,” Wonwoo said, a deep chuckle echoing on his end. “And by anywhere, I mean, literally just your room.”

“Nah, it’s fine, I can come in to the office next week,” Jihoon replied without thinking twice, then realized what he said and added, “you can make sure your granddad’s fine.” He internally sighed, believing he made a good save. However, a dead silence hung in the Discord call, even after the loud ‘Match found’ reverberated, breaking the silence for a second.

“What did you say?”

“What?” Jihoon tried to play dumb, then added, “I’m playing Gekko,” to change the subject.

“Did you just say you’re willing to leave the comforts of your own home to work from office?” Wonwoo asked again, clearly twisting Jihoon’s words causing him to roll his eyes. His colleague then added, in a faux tone of panic, “The end of the world is nearing, isn’t it?”

“Shut up and pick your damn agent.”

“Are you even Jihoon right now?”

Jihoon defended himself, “I can want to work from office from time-to-time, you know?” Wonwoo was exaggerating, wanting to work from office is tiring, but nothing is more boring than working alone with only a dumb FPS game there to entertain you every time you’re free. Admittedly, he found working while being surrounded with other people was enjoyable—he wasn’t a social butterfly, didn’t make an effort to start a conversation by the coffee machine either, but it was… nice being around others every now and then. Humans are meant to be social creatures, after all.

“You have been working from home ever since probation had ended, which was literally two years ago, Jihoon,” Wonwoo reiterated, “you have been working from home since.”

“That’s not true.” He frowned, the comment caught him off guard and he almost started the round with buying any abilities. “I worked three days last October.”

“Which was, what? Nine month ago?” He couldn’t rebuttal that. It’s common knowledge among his peers that he despises working from office—Jihoon knows that, too. It’s just that this week has changed his mind. People can change their mind. “I have to bribe you with Valorant just so you come to company dinners, and now you want to willingly cover me for another week? For free?”

An irritated groan shook his chest as his character died on screen. “Damn it—” He pushed to talk, “90 on Reyna.” He fell back into his chair with a sigh, annoyed that Wonwoo was ruining his focus on the game—it was supposed to be his rank up to Ascendant 3. “Okay, and what’s your point?”

Jihoon swears he could hear the guy smirk. “I know.”

“You’re being annoying, you’re distracting me.”

Wonwoo paid no mind to his complaints, hitting clean headshots on the enemy but the spike detonated causing them to lose the round. Despite that, Wonwoo kept his cool as he continued to taunt his colleague. “Vernon told me about your round trips to and from the Marketing team.” He was definitely grinning now. "The problem is, I know Saerom’s team don’t usually need any help from IT support—at least, not to the point to where you need to go there twice a day.”

Jihoon cursed under his breath as he, once again, misses his utility and gets killed barely ten seconds into the round. This time he doesn’t even bother to communicate with his team, in fear of his voice shaking in anticipation of Wonwoo’s suspicions. “Except for one person,” his peer begins, letting the silence drag between the two as he focused on the game, getting three kills in a row, winning the round for them. Then Wonwoo asks, Jihoon picturing a shit-eating grin on his damned face. “Y/N’s cute, isn’t she?”

“I’m forfeiting.” Jihoon presses slash then F, to which it was denied, their teammates sending in question marks in response. Wonwoo’s burst out laughing at Jihoon’s ‘missclicked sorry’ reply. “Focus on the game—if I derank, it’s on you.”

Wonwoo’s laughter only grew louder, letting himself have the last word. “Jihoon enjoying working from office wasn’t on my 2024 bingo.”

Neither was it on Jihoon’s because he never enjoys working from office. Whatever friendly and social air that was present the previous week wasn’t present now as he finds himself at the wrath of the Operation’s team manager.

“I was on a call with Miyoung and she told me she couldn’t access their website, Jihoon,” Eunkwang scolded, his greying brows forming deep crevices disguised as wrinkles between his eyebrows and across the length of his forehead. “You’re supposed to be on top of this—she couldn’t access it the whole weekend, Jihoon, what happened? We’ve never faced this problem before.” Yes they have, Jihoon recalled, it happens when you run an agency that barely gathers clients and doesn’t really care enough to provide quality platform options, either, but of course Eunkwang says the same argument. Talk about selective amnesia.

“I don’t care how long it takes for you to fix it—” Might take half an hour, could’ve dealt with it within the time you’re yelling at me but I’ll shut up, Jihoon bitterly thought but kept his lips pressed in a tight line. “I want it done until Miyoung calls to confirm.”

Once he was sure the old man was done projecting his anger, Jihoon bowed his head, uttering, “Understood.” He turned his body to climb up the stairs to the third floor, grumbling to himself how this wouldn’t have happened if he worked at home because he wouldn’t be tired from commuting and socializing during the weekends and could monitor the websites every now and then. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case because he was tired, and he is still tired, he hates working in the office, he doesn’t even know why he agree to go for another week, he could’ve been at home and in a Valorant Swiftplay by now—

“Jihoon?” He turned to find you, standing by the door of your team’s room, a timid look on your face. Something had happened, he could see it written all over your soft features as you eyed him wordlessly. Without saying anything, he followed you towards your desk, where you idly by your computer with pursed lips and furrowed brows.

The dreaded blue screen. It had only reached 15% and didn’t seem to budge even after three minutes of watching it.

“For God’s sake,” Jihoon cursed under his breath, however, it was loud enough for you to hear it and the unusual sharpness in his tone caused you to jump slightly, your heart beginning to race in your chest as his face contorted into frustration. “How did you manage to get stuck like this?”

“I-I don’t know.” God, you hated it when you started stuttering. It always made you look stupid and helpless. You inhaled a quick breath, hoping it would help calm the nerves that seemed to climb the more you avoided his intense gaze. “I was coming back from my break and turned it on, and it did this… I didn’t do anything, I swear…” If your lack of technological capabilities looked pitiful to Jihoon, your inability of forming a coherent and sensible answer was the cherry on top. “I’m really sorry.”

Upon seeing her stricken face, Jihoon inhaled a deep breath, letting his tensed shoulders fall. “No, Y/N, I should be sorry. I’m taking my anger out on you, you just needed help.” He glances back at your monitor, heaving another sigh. “Just leave it, it should be able to restart on its own, but if it doesn’t, just tell me.”

“Alright…” Would it be even more pathetic to say you were fighting away tears? You had to turn your head a bit, angling away from Jihoon so your hair fell to cover your face enough for him to not notice your obvious internal battle with letting your emotions take over. “I’m really sorry I keep bothering you with not being tech-savvy.”

An ache thumped in his chest hearing your apology, sounding defeated. “It’s fine, Y/N,” he tried to reassure you, but he knew damn well the damaged was done and whatever unspoken agreement to two of you had, had gone. Jihoon knew he was terrible with people, but he really messed up with ruining it with you—the one person that made coming into work, commuting back and forth, and facing nagging higher-ups, the least bit bearable.

It didn’t seem to register in him how bad the damage was until he got through the day without any messages from you. Even Jeonghan was surprised as the day was coming to a close. “Y/N didn’t come in?”

“She did,” Jihoon mumbled.

“And she didn’t need any help?” He only shrugged, trying to hide his own bewilderment. Did his words strike you that much? He decided to message you, just in case you were reluctant to ask him for help.

Jihoon: Y/N Jihoon: Everything alright?

He waited on the edge of his seat, his heart skipping a beat when you began typing back.

Y/N: Yes, everything’s fine ^__^

Everything was, in fact, not fine.

Not only did your computer take almost an hour to restart after the dreaded blue screen, whatever the computer had gone through during said hour had your accounts logged out, and you, being clumsy, misplaced the sticky note that Jihoon gave you, forcing you to borrow someone else’s computer to pull up the Instagram analytics. Fortunately, most of your inputted data was still available from before your break, it was still a hassle to transfer the data from your colleague’s computer to your own, and because, once again, you are tech-savvy, you didn’t know any shortcut. You had to turn to Google, open up YouTube tutorials on Excel shortcuts, consuming almost an hour of your day trying to learn everything from scratch.

But you promised yourself you wouldn’t bother him with any measly problems if Google already had a solution.

Even it meant running into the risk of never seeing him again.

Two days had passed. It was Wednesday and Jihoon was ready to pack up and head back to his old life of working from the comforts of his bedroom. Two days without his favourite snacks. Two days without his functioning PC that he paid hundreds, probably thousands of dollars to build. Two days without his fast Wi-Fi that was optimal for a quick ranked game.

And two days without the usual ping of his Google Chat, the room with you now collecting dust as the last message exchanged was his check-in on Monday.

Now Wednesday’s work day comes to an end without your plea for technological aid. You’re genuinely the only thing in this bleak, rundown, cheap company that makes the work worthwhile, Jihoon couldn’t help but think to himself on the train back home.

Was it pathetic of him to think of you as a reason to wake up in the morning, fight the morning rush and sit through eight hours of blank staring at a computer screen if it means he can get a glimpse of you every now and then when he goes down to get another fix of shitty coffee? The two of you only officially met last week after all, and yet, he has grown drawn to you, attached even, finding the brief sight of you as you sat by your desk, an ever-so-present clueless look to your face as you try to remember how to VLOOKUP the third time. He finds endearing, so endearing that his heart aches and his days grow grey when he hasn’t seen you yet.

Has he always been one to fall so quick for someone?

Would it be even more pathetic for him to fear that feeling? Mind you, he has never left the house unless bribed to, social interactions were scarce aside from the call outs to teammates in his ranked games, and even then, he never bothered to make small talk with the people he’d temporarily need to rank up. Was he a bit too deprived of social interactions that meeting you overwhelmed him to the point of creating a false sense of falling in l—

“Wonwoo, when are you coming back?” This time the two weren’t in a game of Valorant. Thank God, Wonwoo had thought when Jihoon asked to get on a Discord call. The latter had dinner prepared and was watching Big Bang Theory while on the call, but his head wasn’t focused on neither the ramen nor the TV show. “Can we switch back soon?”

“What happened to your willingness to go to the office?” Again, that damned smirk was noticeable in the way he spoke, but Jihoon needed to keep his cool.

“Changed my mind.”

“How come?”

“Sick and tired of being in the direct line of shot for Eunkwang’s spit when he yells at me,” he half-lied. He had to wash his face after that meeting, to the point he used the strawberry-scented hand soap to make sure he couldn’t feel the droplets on his skin.

“Oh yeah, Jeonghan told me.” A pause. “Sorry that happened to you, but it’s just Eunkwang, his ammunition is making you work overtime every now and then.”

“I just don’t want to deal with him every now and then, much rather read him yell in the group chats than in real life.”

There was a longer pause now, Jihoon’s eyes glanced at his second monitor just to make sure his friend didn’t disconnect. Then, Wonwoo spoke up, tone matter-of-factly and the shit-eating grin heard clearly. “Vernon tells me you haven’t been to the Marketing room in a bit.”

“Vernon you piece of shit snitch,” Jihoon cursed under his breath, but obviously his microphone caught it, Wonwoo throwing his head back in laughter.

“I’m guessing the Tech-Illiterate hasn’t been asking for your help?”

“Y/N,” Jihoon corrected, not liking the term used—even if it did fit you.

“Hey, there are a lot of tech-illiterate people in our company,” Wonwoo pointed out, then added, “so I guess you admit it then, you’re thinking of her.”

His eyes roll far back, he gets a mild ache in his temples. “Fine yeah,” he admits with a defeated sigh, “she doesn’t need any more help from me so why should I even bother to go to the office?”

“For work, Jihoon,” he says casually. “I mean, you get compensation to come to work. Extra money.”

“I’m already rich enough,” he responds, clearly dodging.

“Then why work?”

“I’m bored.”

“You piss me off.” Wonwoo’s comment successfully makes Jihoon chuckle. “I hope Y/N becomes so tech-savvy that she doesn’t need your help anymore, and you will never see her again.”

“Asshole,” he hisses and disconnects from the call immediately, Wonwoo’s words pushed to the back of his head as he finished his ramen and closed the TV show, opening Valorant for a quick game to relieve the stress built up for the day.

Unfortunately, once he laid on his bed, eyes stuck on the ceiling, his peers’ words returned tenfold, echoing a sickening mantra in his head. What if you do end up learning how to do your job with little to no help, technology-wise? It’s hard for the guy to admit (and a tad bit dramatic), but he truly did feel like his entire being has lighten since meeting you.

Maybe he is deprived of social interaction, and you were the fix he needed, but didn’t want it to be temporary. He wanted to know everything about you, the reason why you struggle with technology and remembering passwords and working different Google suites. He wanted to know why you chose this line of work, why this shitty company, and why hadn’t he met you before.

He wanted to know more about you, and he doesn’t want to ruin the chances of being able to do so.

Although it might be pathetic of him to feel so strongly over someone he only met the previous week, he knew this would be a missed opportunity to not get to know you better, that it would become his biggest regret and he didn’t want his leaving the comforts of his WFA routine be for nothing.

So, he had a plan. A bit of a cheesy, cliché of a plan, but a plan and he lost sleep wondering if it’ll work or not.

As he entered the office, his mind kept replaying what he needed to do. It was simple, he just needed to wait for you to reach out to him, ask for help with an issue and it should be smooth-sailing from there, all depends on your answer, of course, but that was something he could worry about later.

Phase one starts with you and your uncooperative computer.

Jihoon waited, eyes glancing between tabs where his Google Chat was opened, looking at the bottom right corner of his computer at the time, watching the time tick by and still no ping from you. But that was okay, it was only two hours into this gloomy Thursday, there was still a whole seven hours before he could truly panic.

So he waited more.

And more.

And more.

He waited until he couldn’t wait, and time was running out. Eyes shifted towards the clock: 16.39.

Less than thirty minutes until the work day, and tomorrow is Friday, and he needed to get this done today because if he didn’t then, it’ll mess up his plan for tomorrow (which depends on your answer, too, if you say ‘yes’ then there’s another plan for that, but if you say ‘no’ then Wonwoo was already back in the city so he could cover for Jihoon while the latter wallows).

“Fuck it,” Jihoon mutters as he pushes himself up out of his chair, causing everyone else in the room jumps and turns to his desk, only to see him already out the door and rushing down the stairs.

“Go get her, man,” Jeonghan utters, loud enough for everyone to chime along with him.

With long strides and quick steps down to your floor, everyone Jihoon seemed to past knew he was a man on a mission—a man on a mission for you. He tries to ignore the mild chills that rose up his spine at that thought. He might be pathetic sometimes, but he likes to believe he can be quite the cheesy romantic, despite what his friends might say.

As expected, since it had been a slow day, a lot of staff had clocked out early, their jobs for the day done and all ready to end the work week. However, you were still by your desk, focused on the task at hand, only two of your coworkers in the room with you, but even they were mindlessly playing with their Excel sheets, waiting for the clock to strike five.

When he stood close enough to you, he saw that you weren’t focused on a task, instead on a game of Minesweepers. He watched you win a game, pursing his lips and nodding, visibly impressed. Sensing a present, you turned around and jumped slightly. “Jihoon… Hi.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he greets back with a stiff smile. “Is everything alright?”

A brief look of confusion passed your face, glancing between him and your computer, before nodding, “Yeah, everything’s fine.” And it was. You got through your day just fine, nothing needed to be troubleshooted, or restarted. You didn’t panic, other than when you forget to send a file to Saerom, but everything—technology-wise—was fine.

“Really? I got a notification on my computer that there was something wrong with yours,” Jihoon lied through his teeth. He didn’t, but he needed you away from your computer so he has ample time to put his plan in motion. His statement caused your brows to furrow together, genuinely confused because you didn’t receive any notification from your own computer, shouldn’t that be the case? Unless you did, and you didn’t noticed because you were too focused on your Minesweeper game.

“Oh…”

“Yeah…” Jihoon rubbed a nonexistent itch at the back of his neck. “Are you done with your work? It might take a bit for me to check it.”

“Oh yeah, I’m done for the day,” you said, then to the clock above the door. “I didn’t realize it was almost five.”

If you could hear anything right now, it would be the pounding beat of his heart against his chest as he tries to formulate an excuse to get you off the computer. “It won’t take more than ten minutes, though, Y/N.”

“Alright, I’m just going to fill my water bottle and clean up while you deal with it.” With a stern nod, Jihoon watched as you stood and walked out the room. Once outside, he took his spot and started his plan.

Recalling the steps he saw on Google, opening Notepad as he pulled out the sticky note where he wrote the code beforehand, typing it in and inserting the necessary message. Once he had saved it, he tested it once, and almost yelled out in triumph when it worked, displaying a fake error message.

“What’s the problem, Jihoon?” You approached him, bottle filled to the top with water. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, you just…” He stood from his chair, gesturing for you to sit. He leaned down, keeping one hand on the back of your chair as the other guided you. “You just need to click that, it’s to install a… an update… Yeah, an update.”

“This one? The ‘Critical Inquiry’ one?” Jihoon hummed in response and watched with sweaty hands and a racing heart as you clicked it, an error message popping up on your screen.

Is this how IT guys flirt? The blood in your face travelled the distance to your cheeks, a bright pink beneath the glow of your skin as you tried suppressing your smile, Jihoon’s way of asking you out so unconventional, so out of the blue, so unique, that you couldn’t help but mentally applaud him, this was a new way you’d been asked out.

“What’s your option?” Jihoon asked, his voice so clearly on edge as he anticipated your answer, for a second even worried you’d decline then he’d be forced to return to his hermit habits and hide his embarrassment.

All that tension, no matter how hard he tried to hide it behind a nonchalant façade, was visible to you and gosh, he is so cute.

You sent him a smile, turning back to your computer wordlessly, letting your choice speak. Your cursor hovered towards the options, for a second too long it hovered over ‘No’, Jihoon’s breath hitching in his throat before his heart skipped a beat as the cursor moved and you clicked your mouse right on ‘Yes’.

The two of you stared at each other, a warmth in your eyes, and brightness in his, sharing a knowing smile before he uttered with the confidence he mustered between the panic.

“I’ll pick up at eight then, Y/N.”

[yunniverse]

Can’t Get Rid of You

౨ৎ PAIRING— university student!jeong yunho x university student!reader

౨ৎ GENRE— academic rivals to lovers, angst, fluff, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, fluff, yunho is rude at times, but so is reader

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 4.9k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— both you and yunho are chosen to attend the same conference, staying in a local hotel, only there’s only one room, and you both seemingly hate each other

౨ৎ A/N— it’s here!! i’m sorry it took so long for me to write, but i hope you all still enjoy it and it lives up to expectations!! thank you so much for your interest and lmk what you think <3

“Mind if I sit here?”

Looking up, you’re almost in disbelief at who you see.

“Wha-” you stutter, but he rolls his eyes, taking the seat anyway. “Excuse me-“

“Take it up with the flight attendant. This is my seat.” Yunho responds, a far too cheeky smirk on his face.

“And why do you have a seat right next to me?” you ask, frowning, as you move your stuff so he doesn’t kick it or sit on it.

“Because we’re from the same school and going to the same conference. I’m sure you know that the university paid for our tickets, unless you’re that dumb,” he responds, giving you a sideways look before putting in his AirPods.

“Are you going to the Tokyo conference?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Are you deaf or did you not hear when I just told you we’re going to the same conference?” Yunho replies, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“Wow, rude,” you roll your eyes, settling back into your seat, jamming your own earbuds in your ears, just as the plane starts to takeoff. This is going to be a long weekend.

Dragging your suitcase behind you, you begrudgingly follow Yunho into the fairly nice hotel the university had booked for you to stay in over the weekend. He leads the way to the front desk, where he gets the receptionist’s attention. “I have a booking from Seoul National University.”

She types on her keyboard, the keys clicking as she searches. “Names?”

“Jeong Yunho,” he responds, and, before you can say your own name, he adds. “And Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Are you both together?” the receptionist gestures to you and Yunho, making you glance at Yunho too.

“No,” you respond, shaking your head.

She frowns, “Are you both from the same university?”

“Yes…” Yunho replies hesitantly. “Is there an issue?”

“Seoul National University only booked one room,” the lady informs both of you, making your heart sink.

“Are you sure?” you ask, biting your lip.

“Positive. Would you still like to take the room or ask the university first?” she asks, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

“We’ll take it,” Yunho sighs, making you look at him in shock, as the receptionist nods and types on the keyboard before passing Yunho the room key card. With a nod to her, he starts to move again, clearly expecting you to follow.

“Yunho!” you hiss, rushing to follow him as he heads to the elevator. “I am not sharing a room with you all weekend.”

“Or…” he turns sharply to look at you as you almost collide with his chest at the abrupt stop. He bends down a little to be at your height. “You could grow up and realize that the school will take all weekend just to fix the room error and you’re going to have to get used to the idea of living with me for a weekend because it’s the best we’re going to do unless you want to pay for your own expensive room.”

Your mouth snaps shut at his reprimand, even though you really want to fight back. You know it would be fruitless anyway.

“Good. Now, I’m exhausted, so let’s go find the room, yeah?” he raises his eyebrows, expecting you to agree.

“Whatever,” you grumble, hating that he’s right. You bite your tongue to keep from making an additional comment about his character.

“Good girl.”

Your head snaps up, your mouth dropping open slightly, but he’s already walking off toward the elevator again. With a sharp glare at the back of his head, you yank your suitcase along with you as you follow him.

After he unlocks the room, the lock making a clicking sound as the room key works, he pushes the door open, dragging his suitcase with him as he enters the room.

“So let’s get this straight,” you start, pulling your suitcase into the room before sitting on the edge of the bed. “You got chosen to come to the same conference?”

“It’s not that deep,” Yunho responds, already setting up some of his stuff. “If you’d read the flier for the conference, you’d have known that up to four could have been chosen from our university.”

“I read the flier, but why’d you choose this one?” you respond, exasperated.

“Why’d you choose it?” he snaps, looking up at you from his spot crouched in front of his suitcase on the floor.

“Because it made the most sense for my major and I didn’t want to wait until fall to meet potential employers,” you reply confidently.

“I chose it for the same reason,” he retaliates, setting his phone down on the bedside table and plugging it into the wall charger he brought. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you glare at him, squeezing the handle of your suitcase. “And you’re not even smart! You’re just naturally good.”

“Hit a nerve, did I?” Yunho chuckles before gesturing to your suitcase. “You better unpack soon or you’ll be awake all night. And you’re just jealous because I don’t have to work as hard as you to be good.”

“Whatever. And I’m getting to it,” you roll your eyes. “And besides, I’m leaving to get something to eat in a minute anyway.”

“So am I,” he replies making you sigh in annoyance. “Let’s just go together. It’ll be easier.”

“I don’t want to go with—”

“Does ramen work for you?” Yunho cuts you off, looking at his phone to see restaurants near the hotel.

“I just said that I—”

“Good!” he responds, his brown eyes meeting yours, daring you to argue further. “Be ready to leave in ten minutes.”

“Yunho!” you call after him as he enters the bathroom, closing the door in your face. With a frustrated huff, you sit back down on the bed, fully aware you’re being childish about the whole situation, but too invested in being annoyed to care.

Exactly ten minutes later, you’re sitting on the bed again, after having unpacked a little, scrolling on your phone.

Yunho exits the bathroom, looking fresher and having changed clothes.

“Did you shower in there?” you ask. “You know other people need the bathroom too.”

“I didn’t shower,” he rolls his eyes, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I just changed out of my airport clothes and washed my face.”

“Well you better be prepared to wait another ten minutes before leaving to get dinner because I need more time,” you retort, grabbing your own change of clothes and heading to the bathroom.

“Take your time then,” Yunho responds, plopping down onto the bed and grabbing his phone.

“Or you could just leave and I’ll get something myself,” you respond, a last ditch effort to get him to leave you alone.

“Nah, I’ll wait. I’m in no rush,” he replies, much to your dismay.

“Of course you aren’t,” you mumble under your breath as you close the bathroom door a little harder than necessary. Why’d Yunho have to be naturally smart enough to come to this conference? He doesn’t even try!

Roughly fifteen minutes later, you exit the bathroom, slipping into some shoes as you sit on the edge of the bed again.

“Took you long enough,” Yunho’s voice greets you as you sigh.

“I gave you fair warning,” you reply, grabbing your purse as Yunho slips his shoes back on.

“Let’s go then, slow poke,” he teases as you follow him out of the room.

It takes about ten minutes to get to the ramen place, following the GPS on Yunho’s phone. It’s a quaint little place that actually looks really cozy. The bell dings overhead as Yunho pushes the door open and you both walk in.

The employees greet you as you enter, Yunho quickly snagging one of the tables near the window. For a moment, you debate sitting somewhere else, but you see that the other tables are pretty full, so you sigh, sitting across from Yunho.

“Is it that much of a struggle for you to get along with me for one single weekend until the conference is over?” Yunho asks, his voice laced with mock sweetness.

“Well it isn’t easy, that’s for sure,” you grumble.

“Well, we’re representing our university at the conference tomorrow so get it together, okay? I’m sure I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to make a fool of myself tomorrow, hm?” Yunho responds, and you know that he’s right.

“Fine,” you reply through gritted teeth. “I’ll try, but only if you do too.”

“I already have been, princess,” he winks cheekily, knowing you already warned him about the domineering nickname earlier.

It takes all the restraint you have not to reach across the table and punch his perfect face.

About an hour later, you enter the hotel room again, exhausted and ready for a shower and sleep. “Dibs on the first shower,” you tell him, already grabbing your stuff.

“Be my guest,” Yunho shrugs, gesturing to the bathroom door as you walk through it, closing it and locking it behind you.

Deciding not to wash your hair tonight, you start the shower, still taking your time with cleaning yourself. When you finish, you shut the water off and hop out, slipping into your silk pajamas, brushing your teeth, and doing your skincare.

Yunho is waiting when you finally walk out, his head lifting as he hears you open the bathroom door. “Done?” he asks, to which you simply nod, allowing him to walk past you and into the bathroom.

With a sigh, you sit down on the bed, grabbing your phone and checking your messages. About twenty minutes later, the bathroom door opens, a small amount of steam seeping out as Yunho emerges, shirtless, wearing grey sweatpants slung low on his hips.

You have to forcefully avert your eyes to keep from staring at his slightly defined abs for too long, even though you have to admit his pale skin is gorgeous. Shaking your head, you force your mind out of the gutter. He’s your rival!

Surprisingly, Yunho doesn’t call you out on your ogling, choosing instead to walk over to his suitcase, crouching down, as he searches for something. “You didn’t happen to see a grey hoodie over there, did you?” he asks, looking up at you.

You look down at the bed, spotting it under the blanket you’d thrown onto the bed. “This one?” you hold it up, watching as his face lights up and he nods.

“Yeah, thanks,” Yunho replies, offering you a small smile as he walks over, reaching out to grab it. Your eyes widen as he leans over you a little, his chest nearly directly in front of your face. You swallow, feeling heat creeping up your neck as Yunho finally grabs the hoodie, his fingers brushing against yours as you release the soft fabric from your grip.

Blinking as he pulls back, you snap yourself out of it. “No problem,” you respond, watching out of the corner of your eye as Yunho slips the hoodie over his head before plopping down on the bottom of the bed, phone in hand again.

“So, sleeping arrangement?” he asks after a few minutes of silence, setting his phone down and stretching, his hoodie riding up a little to reveal a sliver of skin.

“Uh, what?”

“How are we going to sleep tonight?” he repeats, slightly exasperated.

“Closing our eyes, I guess,” you shrug, setting your own phone down.

Yunho rolls his eyes, nudging your foot with his hand, making you pull it up closer to your body, wide eyed. “You know what I mean, dummy.”

“Well, obviously, I get the bed,” you respond. “I’m the girl.”

“Oh, and girls can’t sleep on couches?” Yunho asks, raising an eyebrow.

“We can, but it’s polite of the man to let the woman take the bed, is it not?”

“Maybe it’s polite of most men, but this man is too tall to sleep on that couch,” he points at the rather small and short couch that is pushed against the wall on the opposite side of the room.

“And this woman gets cramps if I sleep in a weird position,” you argue, crossing your arms.

“But my legs will hang off the end!” Yunho retorts.

“And my back will cramp and I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!”

“Fine, you know what? I’ll be the bigger person and sleep on the couch. It’s late and I’d rather not argue with you again,” Yunho sighs, standing up as he grabs one of the pillows and a blanket.

“Wait, no, I can be the bigger person and sleep on the couch,” you start to move, suddenly feeling a little bad for making him sleep there.

“No, I’m clearly the bigger person here,” Yunho chuckles, gesturing to his height. “And like I said, I don’t want to argue anymore. So let’s just sleep, yeah?”

“Fine,” you frown, reaching over to turn the light off, bathing the room in darkness, except for the moonlight filtering in through the hotel room window.

About an hour later, you’re still awake, tossing and turning, realizing suddenly that you’re actually worried about the conference tomorrow. What if the presentation you have prepared is horrible and they all laugh at you? Or what if Yunho’s is better and he gets all the recognition and job offers?

You glance over at the couch he’s sleeping on, seeing his legs hanging off the end just as he’d said, and you suddenly feel like a horrible human being for making him sleep like that all night when he’s probably equally as nervous about the conference. “Yunho?”

“Hm?” a sleepy hum greets you as you hear rustling.

“You awake?” you ask, whispering.

“Yeah, why?” he responds, his voice a little deeper, thick with exhaustion.

“Are you sure you don’t want the bed?” you ask, hoping he won’t react strongly to your offer.

“I said you could have it,” he sighs deeply, and you can practically hear the annoyance in his tone.

“I know, but I’m clearly more qualified to take the couch,” you respond softly, surprising even yourself with your gentle tone. Suddenly, you think of something. “Or we could… share the bed?”

“No,” he replies, turning over on the couch, facing away from you.

“But you’re clearly exhausted and so am I,” you frown. “I won’t try anything, I promise.”

“Why would I think you would?” Yunho replies, laughing a little.

“I dunno,” you blush, but at least he can’t see the color on your cheeks in the dark. “I’m just trying to reassure you-“

“You know what?” Yunho sits up a little. “I’ll take you up on the offer. This couch hurts.”

You watch as he stands up, stretching before making his way over to the bed, trying not to trip on your suitcase as he steps over it. “I’ll sleep on top of the sheets, though.”

“Deal,” you nod, moving over to let him onto the bed, laughing slightly at his relieved sigh as he lays down. “Just stay on your side, okay?”

“Noted,” he responds, and you can practically hear the grin on his face. “She doesn’t like cuddling.”

“Not with you at least,” you snort in response, rolling over to face away from him. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, princess.” This time, you don’t even feel the urge to correct him.

Your eyes slowly open as they adjust to the dim light filtering into the room. Feeling warmth to your left, you let your eyes drift closed again as you unconsciously shift closer to it, your face coming in contact with something hard and warm. With a start, your eyes open and you look up to see just grey fabric in your vision.

“Huh?” you pull away, seeing that it’s Yunho’s hoodie your face is pressed into. You quickly sit up, making sure he’s still asleep, his eyes closed and his face peaceful, before you look down, seeing you’re literally in the middle of the bed. How could you go against your own rule and not stay on your side of the bed?

All you can do is hope he was too deep in sleep to notice. You quietly and carefully slip out of the bed and grab your clothes for the day out of your suitcase, heading to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

By the time you get out, Yunho is awake and sipping some coffee. “‘Morning,” he greets you with a nod and a small smirk.

“Good morning,” you reply, acting as causal as you can as you go to your suitcase.

“‘No cuddles’, huh?”

You grit your teeth, having half expected this. “It won’t happen again.”

“If it does, I’ll know you lied,” Yunho responds, his tone teasing as he stands up, heading to the bathroom. But before he closes the door, he adds, “And for the record? I didn’t mind.”

His words leave you confused more than anything else as you shake your head, getting back to what you were doing, needing to go over your PowerPoint again before it’s time to present at the conference.

Hours later, when it’s finally your turn to present at the conference, you walk up to the stage, your never making your hands shake. As you start, your nerves slowly dissipate, until disaster strikes. You click the little remote, but the slideshow isn’t playing. Glancing around the room, you give them a nervous smile.

“One moment please…”

Frantically, you press the button, looking at the IT team for help just before the whole computer shuts down.

With a frown, you catch Yunho’s eyes, and he looks concerned. Mustering your courage, you try to salvage the presentation as best you can. “Where was I? Oh um… I think it would really help because… um…”

Your brain feels like it’s malfunctioning and your face is on fire as you try to piece together your thoughts, when you realize. The computer wasn’t doing this for anyone else all day.

Why’d it choose you? Your eyes meet Yunho’s again and it clicks in your head. He sabotaged it. This morning, you left your computer turned on while you went to shower and he must have done something to it.

Holding back tears, you rush off the stage, completely humiliated. You’re so hysterical that you don’t notice Yunho following you out.

You notice him as you turn the corner, hearing him following you as you rush out of the huge conference room, hurrying down the hallway, trying to hold back tears.

“Wait!” Yunho calls out, catching up to you as he grabs your arm, making you whip around on him.

“Why are you acting like you care?! I just spoiled all my chances of ever making it into an elite corporation!” you cry, tears pricking your vision as you move to lean against the wall.

Yunho frowns, taking a step closer to you, “I never said I don’t care. You said that. You’re the one keeping up this ‘rivalry’ like you think there’s something wrong with both of us being smart! You know, in freshman year, I saw how hard you worked and I actually wanted to be your friend! It’s true I don’t have to try as hard, but I still care!”

Your head snaps up as you look at him, really look at him, for what feels like the first time. Your voice is shaky as you ask, “What?”

He steps closer still, “You’re the one making a big thing out of both of us being the smartest at the university and getting into all the prestigious programs together. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you… I mean it. I’ve never wished you’d fail so I could succeed.”

You notice the way his voice softens as he speaks, his brown eyes flicking across your face, trying to gauge your reaction and emotions.

“So you didn’t sabotage my presentation?” you ask, sniffling as you look up at him.

He’s taken aback for a moment, seemingly shocked that you’d even think that before he gently places his hands on your elbows, his warm hands effectively getting you to look up at him, “No, I’d never do that to you. I know how hard you’ve worked because you’re just as good, if not better, than me. What happened today was purely a technical issue and then you clammed up out there when it didn’t go as planned.”

“So, you’re positive you didn’t tamper with it?”

“I didn’t.”

Silence follows as the two of you stand together, your eyes searching his, looking for a shred of proof that he could be lying.

Finding none, you release a shaky sigh before suddenly throwing your arms around his neck, standing on your tippy toes to bury your face in the crook of his neck, finally breaking completely as you sob quietly.

He freezes for a moment, taken aback, but he slowly returns the embrace, trying to comfort you as his hand gently moving to cradle the back of your head, his other resting on your back. “Shh,” he soothes, gently rubbing your back in a soothing motion. “It happens.”

“What? Clamming up completely in front of all my potential employers?” you let out a self deprecating laugh, sniffling.

“Well that’s part of it,” Yunho chuckles softly. “But I mean the computer freezing on you. You couldn’t control that, could you?”

“I could control how I reacted, though,” you frown, pulling away from the impromptu hug. “And I reacted horribly. I crumbled under pressure.”

“You’re young and inexperienced,” Yunho responds, reasoning with you. “I think they’ll take that into account when deciding who to hire. Do you not think it’s impressive enough that you’re in your junior year of college and already got accepted to come to this conference anyway? Do you not think they’ll take that into account too?”

Sighing, you realize he’s right. “Maybe?”

“You don’t sound convinced,” Yunho laughs softly, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re smart, mature, and you’re pretty easy on the eyes if I do say so myself.”

You blush slightly, “You’re just saying that…”

“I’m not,” he shakes his head, squeezing your sides gently. “I’m completely serious.”

“Okay,” you respond softly. “I believe you… even though we’re supposed to hate each other.”

“You said that, not me,” Yunho laughs.

“I can’t believe I spent two of my years of college avoiding you like the plague because I thought you hated me,” you rub your nose, sighing.

He gives you a half smile, “We can make up for it now, though, can’t we?”

“I suppose.”

“And you know what?” Yunho starts, his smile growing.

“What?” you ask curiously.

“There’ll be other conferences, other chances to impress those tycoons,” he replies, bending down a little to look you in the eyes.

You gasp suddenly, your hand moving to cover your mouth, “Yunho! You’re missing your presentation! You’re supposed to be presenting in five minutes!”

“If you screwed yours up, so did I,” Yunho laughs. “Our university will just have to pass this time around, yeah?”

“Yunho…” your hands lift to grip his shoulders. “Please go present. Do it for me? Please?”

“Are you serious? You want me to?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing. “But why?”

“Because you’ve been kind to me for almost this whole trip, and the times you weren’t were my fault. So please, you deserve this,” you beg him.

“We deserve this,” he responds, his hand slipping into yours, intertwining your fingers, making you look down at your hand clasped in his before looking back up at his smiling face. “We’ll do it together.”

“What?” you’re shocked, confused.

“You heard me,” Yunho starts tugging on your hand. “We’ll present together. You’ll make up for your mess up, and I’ll guide you, okay?”

“For real?” you ask, a small smile growing on your face as you let him guide you back toward the conference room.

“For real.”

The presentation ends with applause from everyone in the room, and you’re beaming, a smile you can’t get rid of on your face as you and Yunho exit the stage.

Different employers talk to you for a while before they finally let you both go, exhausted yet pleased with how you’d done.

As soon as you’re out of sight from the crowd, you throw your arms around Yunho again in a tight hug. “We did it!”

“We did,” he responds, grinning, as he returns your hug, burying his face in your hair.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his neck. “For letting me do that with you.”

“You deserved it,” Yunho responds. “And maybe I was being a little selfish too?”

“Selfish?” you pull back to look at him, confused.

“I wanted you to finally like me,” he replies sheepishly. “I—I’ve been trying to get you to like me ever since I met you. You just always pushed me away.”

“I only did that because I thought we were in an unspoken rivalry,” you sigh, looking down. “I see now how stupid I was to make something like that up you never even acted like it.”

“That’s not true,” Yunho responds softly. “I did act like it quite often just because of my pride. I didn’t want you to think it was one-sided if you were going to be all… competitive.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, before grabbing your hand in his again. “Ready to go back to the hotel?”

“Yeah,” you smile, letting him lead you out of the building.

As you walk out of the airport, back on the ground in South Korea at the end of the weekend, you’re actually sad to part with Yunho to go home.

“You know, I’m kinda sad that conference was at the end of the school year,” you muse, sighing, as you wait for your sister to come pick you up.

“Why’s that?” Yunho asks, looking down at you.

“Because now I have all summer before we go back to school,” you reply, biting your lip softly.

“Why would you want to go back to school?” Yunho asks, laughing a little at the absurdity of missing school that much.

“Because…” you trail off before look up at him, your voice growing softer. “I’ll miss everything.”

“What’s everything?” Yunho asks, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Well, the campus, classes, my friends…” you trail off before taking a deep breath. “You.”

“Me?” he asks, eyes widening. “You’ll miss me?”

“Of course I will,” you respond, a small smile growing on your face. “This weekend has taught me a lot about things, including you.”

“Has the princess grown up?” Yunho asks, a hint of his old teasing tone peeking through.

“I have,” you laugh softly. “Thanks to you.”

“Glad I could be of service,” he smiles, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully.

Just then, you see your sister’s car pulling up. “Well, that’s my ride I guess.”

“Yeah?” Yunho asks, standing up with you as you prepare to tell him goodbye.

“Yeah,” you breathe, grabbing the handle of your suitcase. “See you later?”

“Of course,” Yunho responds, smiling softly, his beautiful brown eyes sparkling.

“Bye,” you return his smile, starting to walk toward your sister’s car. Inside, you’re warring with yourself, debating back and forth. Should you do it?

Without a second thought about it, you let go of your suitcase handle, running back to Yunho and basically launching yourself into his arms as your lips collide with his. He freezes for only a moment before he grips your sides, returning the kiss. Your lips move against his for a moment before you pull back slowly, panting slightly.

“What was that for?” he asks, breathless, as he brushes his nose against yours.

“I like you too, Yunho,” you respond, a small smile on your face as you glance at his perfect, pink lips again. “I think I always have… I was just scared.”

He grins, joy radiating from his smile, “You like me?”

“I do,” you nod shyly.

Yunho leans in again, capturing your lips with his in another, much softer kiss. When he pulls away, his gaze meets yours. “I’m so happy we spent the weekend together.”

“So am I,” you smile, reluctantly pulling away. “Well, I should go meet my sister before she wonders what’s happening.”

“Yeah,” he nods, letting you go. “Can I give you my number and maybe we can meet up sometime this summer?”

“Please,” you nod, taking his phone from him to type on your number. With a mischievous smile, you make the contact name ‘Princess’ with a heart emoji. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” he responds, smiling when he sees the contact name. “I’ll text you soon.”

“Alright,” you smile, leaning in to give him one more hug before pulling away for real this time. “You know, I’m glad the university made a mistake with the rooms.”

“Me too,” Yunho smiles. “I got to see how much of a cuddle bug you really are.”

“Well, if you ask me out soon, you might get to see it again.”

“Is now too soon?” Yunho laughs, but you can tell he’s serious. “Will tomorrow work? I can come anywhere.”

“There’s a cafe in downtown Seoul. Would that work?” you suggest.

“Perfect,” he smiles, nodding. “I’ll text you the time I’ll pick you up once you send the address, alright?”

“I guess I was worried for nothing,” you laugh, shaking your head slightly.

“About what?” Yunho asks, tilting his head slightly in question.

“Missing you this summer.”

He winks as you move to go to your sister’s car, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, princess.”

“I think I’m slowly learning that fact.”

Taglist: @hongjoongspoetry, @originallyyn, @outlawinthisworld1117, @anxieteez, @touchme-teezme, @fixonateez8, @hum4n-e4ter, @cherriehaz, @eixila, @i-love-ateez, @gigikubolong29, @kyeos4ng, @annoyingretard, @grandlightcandy, @vanishingboots, @bkimrose, @hobarihope, @sunshiinmidnight, @yuyusuyu, @yunnierights, @sunkissedchocobeauty, @seonghwasprincess, @yunhowooyo, @bloomyroses, @hwalilac, @sheerfreesia007

if there’s a strike through your name, i couldn’t tag </3

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I've been rereading I Hate The New Hero over and over. I love it so much! But while I was reading chapter three again and an idea hit me.

What if, on his way over to the toy chest, Tim's foot caught on a floor board?

He's able to immediately recognize that this floor board looks as if it's been pulled up multiple times due to some wearing down along the edges. He thinks he's just found some super secret area where you keep something you don't want anyone to find. So he lifts the board.

And immediately sets the board back in place again, gently because he's having a dissociative panic attack. Tim goes to leave, gets confronted by reader's father, and gets shocked out of his episode when he calls you a slut.

Tim is grabbing this man's hand and twisting the guy into a police hold and pressing, pressing, pressing til the guy is on his knees, then with his forehead to the floor. The reason he doesn't just slam the man down is because it could wake you up. With as little noise as possible, the father is on the floor with both arms behind his back practically licking the dirty boards beneath them.

And Tim whispers -no hisses!- into the quiet of this tiny apartment.

"If I ever see, or hear, about you calling her that ever again, Gotham will keep finding your body. I'll even start with those rotten fingers you use to communicate. Do you understand me?"

The man was chocking on shock.

Tim wanted a fucking answer.

"I said, Do. You. Under. Stand. Me." Tim punctuated the sentence with violent shaking of this man.

Reader's father nods frantically.

Tim let's him go. Takes a step back. His chest is heaving in rage. How dare this low life talk about you like this?

(How hypocritical of him, Tim vaguely criticizes himself. After all, he would have probably joined in on mocking you, or just walked out the door, if he hadn't seen what was under the loose floor board.)

Tim is still seething.

"I understand why your throat was cut. You must have made enough enemies yapping lies as if they were true. It makes me sick to leave you with even one of your digits. Let alone, all of them. But [Name] would get stressed or cry if I hurt her family. So, until I can convince her to leave this hell hole, you will not sign or glare at her. Even once. And don't tell her about this. At all. I still need to get a room ready, and I can't have you spoil her surprise."

Tim knows he has JJ's smile right now. His manic eyes boring into the man. Who was trying to prop himself up or curl into a ball; Tim couldn't tell which. All that really mattered was the man was looking at him. Tim's body was jittering from holding back laughter.

Aranea's suit was the most damning thing he could probably find. Tim had to mull over whether to believe you were the hero he viewed as a sister, or if you were someone else entirely.

Of course, Tim hates the thought he treated his sister so awfully. But! There's the chance you're not her! Maybe you're her friend?

Oh! You have a scholarship for engineering. You make Aranea's tech.

Well, if that's the case, he can see about getting you away from here so you're able to make better gear. Which explains Aranea backing out of patrol tonight! If [Name] isn't there to be her person in the chair, Aranea probably didn't feel comfortable going out.

You're probably Aranea's friend on top of that. She may even think of you as a sister! After all, she probably trusts you with her identity so you could make the custom suit. And all her tech.

Which also means that all your supposed hate was just a way to disguise the fact that you know her.

Of course.

No one could actually hate the spider hero, she's too sweet.

So you're behavior was you trying to protect her.

Tim is manic with joy at being one step closer to getting to know his sister. If that means becoming friends with you, it won't be hard.

He forgets to tell Bruce.

Tim greets the reader warmly the next day, saying about how she's not so bad once he ignored her being mean about Aranea. He then makes a comment calling the reader a Tsudere.

Bruce still threatens the reader and Tim freaks out about her skipping school to help Aranea with a day patrol. He then finds out what Bruce and Damian did and spams them to apologize.

Holy shit, Aranea is probably pissed at the Wayne's now! First with Tim being hostile, then Bruce and Damian. They were picking on her tech engineer and Aranea had to go release steam from being so angry.

Him just furiously texting, explaining that he found out reader was the creator behind Aranea's tech and the hater behavior was to protect her identity.

But he's only texting them, not the group chat. So no one else knows. Jason goes to give the letter letting go her mother and Dick still pours ice water on her. Which Tim, Bruce, and Damian find out through the chat. And promptly lose it.

(Excuse me, I'm very out of it right now but still wanted to send this to you. Have a lovely day!)

I love this!! It's been in my inbox for a while and I keep reading over it and forgetting to respond 💔

When Y/N wakes up she'll be in for a shock, her dad is avoiding her??? The stuff in her floorboard is slightly skewed??? Oh... Lucky her.

Tim greets her warmly and acts oblivious? She's holding back her punch right now, the nerve he has.

Then, she slowly realizes, Tim isn't treating her like he does Aranea, something's different. Surely he can't be that dense, right?

I think eventually Y/N confronts him on it, asking him what he thinks the connection between her and Aranea is. When he answers Y/N's shoulders literally drop.

Tech.. Engineer..? That could work, she guesses. But, she doubts the theory will last for long - she can't be in two places at once.

[fakebwitch]

rafe finds handcuffs in your room…

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

“you done?” rafe asked you for the third time, wandering around your room occasionally taking in his hands a polaroid, plush or a book — whatever was in front of him — observing it and scrutinizing it, trying to make the time pass as quickly as possible. “5 minutes” you said finishing applying the mascara, catching in the reflection of the mirror the figure of rafe intent on observing a small stuffed animal.

technically you were supposed to go to a restaurant for dinner, but rafe had shown up at your house early and you still had to finish getting ready, so now he was in your room waiting for you to finish your makeup. “you got many of this uh?” he said referring to the plushies scattered on your bed and a some on the shelves, “rafe stop touching everything” you said turning briefly to him, he put the plush on the bed raising his hands in the air whispering a little “okay”.

“what are you doing now?” he asked you approaching slowly, his brows farrowed as he watched you search in a drawer full of those that looked like pencils in his eyes. “lip liner” you said grabbing one in your hands, rafe watched you without saying anything as you began to trace the contour of your lips.

he looked at the watch on his wrist letting out a small sigh, he was getting bored. he approached a chest of drawers near the bed, the first drawer was slightly open and his eyes caught a glimpse of something that immediately caught his attention, it was perhaps the second time he entered your room so he had not yet explored what you were “hiding”. you had been dating for a month, the first time in your room had been the previous week, but beyond a heated make out session and preliminaries nothing had happened, you had not yet had sex.

too focused on making the contour of the lips perfect you hadn’t noticed that rafe, too taken by curiosity, had not been able to hold back and had opened the first drawer all the way, very slowly. all your bras and panties were neatly folded together with some babydolls. rafe was taken by surprise, turning to give you a quick look and check that you were still busy with the lip liner. he couldn’t stop the hand that moved between the various bras, quickly observing the decorations, the details, the colors, and not to mention the panties, he couldn’t look at them like he really wanted — because they were all neatly folded — otherwise you would have noticed his intrusion.

while his hands rummaged through the various babydolls, his mind wandered quickly, imagining what you would look like wearing them. the fact that you hadn’t had sex yet certainly didn’t help, he was currently whipped sexually, and seeing all those things didn’t help, but then something hard met his fingers, rafe’s eyes widened quickly, giving you a quick look before giving into temptation.

noticing you were still busy — you were applying lip gloss — extremely curious he pulled out the unknown object from where it was hidden, and they were... handcuffs. he almost choked on his own saliva, they had their typical silvery color but they were covered with a baby pink fur. he quickly recovered, a smink grew on his face as he turned towards you, the handcuffs dangled between his hands.

“handcuffs, huh?” he examined them, catching your attention, a mischievous grin painted on his face “i didn’t know you were into this kind of thing” you quickly turned to him, your eyes slightly wide as you got up from your seat walking towards him, “rafe where did you get them?”.

rafe smirked, holding the handcuffs out of your reach as you approached him, his eyes glinting with amusement. “oh, they were just sitting in your drawer,” he teased, swinging them lazily back and forth, “you know, like an invitation for me to find them.”

“rafe” you warned, crossing your arms, though you could feel your cheeks warming. you hated how easily he could fluster you. “give me them now” you said trying to grab the handcuffs from his firm grip. he tilted his head, stepping back a little, clearly enjoying your reaction. “oh, come on” he drawled, inspecting the soft pink fur around the cuffs. “these are… cute” he said trying to hold back from laughing.

“rafe cameron, i swear—” you lunged forward, trying again to grab the cuffs, but he dodged, laughing as he held them high above his head. “nah think i need some explanation” he said looking down at you, his eyes lingering with amusement and something more, lust maybe?. you groaned, standing on your tiptoes as you tried to reach his hand. “seriously, rafe, give them back. they’re a gift from my friends. they’re not even—”

“not even what?” he interrupted, raising a brow. “not even used? ‘cause judging by how red your face is right now, i’d say you definitely—”

“rafe!” you cut him off, swatting at his arm. he laughed harder, finally lowering the cuffs enough for you to snatch them out of his hand.

“i’m just saying” he continued, smirking as he watched you shove them back into the drawer, “if you want to try something… different, you can just tell me. no need to keep secrets, babe.”

you slammed the drawer shut, turning to face him with an exasperated look, “you’re impossible.” he gave you a teasing smile getting closer to you, his hands gripping your waist, his face got closer to yours, moving to you ear. “although” he whispered, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes, “if you ever do want to put those to use… i wouldn’t mind.” he said placing a small kiss under your ear, his words lingered on your head more than they should’ve. you bite your lip as his eyes met yours, he surely knew how to get under your skin.

you shook you head quickly recovering from what had just happened, shoving his chest playfully, “i’ll let you know” you simply said with a teasing smile, walking past him to grab your bag. rafe looked at you, his eyes lingering on your body for a bit too long as he rolled his tongue inside his check, his fist tightened around his side.

“come on, we’ll be late” you said innocently leaving the room, turning off the light starting to walk down the corridor. rafe left the room staring at you for a few seconds, they way your hips moved, your back uncovered... he felt his pants getting too tight, you were driving him crazy.

“you can’t keep going on like this, you know that uh?” he said walking slowly, you laughed shaking your head, it was going to be a looong night.

[snakesafraidtodie]

Mediocre Reveal AU

So usually we see the Fentons in fic after finding out their son is Phantom, either being totally loving and supportive or horrendously hateful and destructive. But what if they were just... not great?

Like they try, right? But they still say bigoted and ignorant stuff. There's still micro-agressions. One reveal isn't gonna change anybody's entire world view. Just because they're not attacking Danny doesn't mean they're comfortable with it, accommodating or accepting of other ghosts.

"Those damn ghost scum!"

"I'm a ghost, remember?"

"Sure Dann-o, but you're different! You're not like them! You still hold onto your humanity. It's a heavy burden to bear, holding off the monster inside you, but you're doing so well and your mother and I are so proud of you!"

They could accept that he is a halfa but still dislike and discourage him from using his ghost side. Like coming out as bi to someone who thinks you should only act on your attraction to the opposite sex so that they can pretend you're straight.

It can be one of those things where you just... know your relatives have problematic views so in order to maintain the peace you just don't talk about it. I think it's pretty normal to have certain topics you avoid with certain people. Or try. There's always those family gatherings where you know you'll just have to grit your teeth as your uncle spews BS again.

So sure, if Danny understandably doesn't want to talk about ghosts with his parents once he's an adult, they can have a two minute phone call once a month were he listens to the tiny bit of small town gossip unrelated that Maddy and Jack have deigned to pay attention to and share a bit about his mundane life in return.

It's not great, but they're still his parents and it could be worse. They could still be actively trying to End him.

I'm picturing this could be perfectly utilized in a Dead on Main fic where Danny's parents are pestering him to meet his boyfriend and he reluctantly agrees. So they all meet up for lunch and Jason notices how the Fenton's keep casually dropping these disparaging comments about ghosts and gets pissed on Danny's behalf. Jason tries to defend him, which leads to an argument, which leads to Jason declaring himself undead, which leads to the Fentons instantly becoming disapproving of their relationship.

"Danny, how could you pick such a person for a partner! It could worsen your condition!"

"Deadness isn't contagious Mom."

"Yeah lady-"

"Don't you start again, Jason! I told you not to start a fight with my parents!"

"Me? They're the ones spouting garbage! I'm just trying to educate the so called experts-"

"I'll have you know young man-!"

And the whole meeting falls apart. Jason is mad Danny won't let him defend him, Danny is mad Jason made a scene. The Fentons are mad that their son's boyfriend is a rude undead who is corrupting their boy. It's a mess. Y'know. Typical meeting the in-laws drama.

[wisterialwhymsy]

when you're ready

part 2 of as much or as little!!

bang chan x gn! reader wc: 1216 warnings: they're a little awkward, Chris teases reader a little, fluffy, talks of boundaries and different types of physical affection, i cannot stay serious for more than 5 minutes and therefore neither can they, Chris is so sweet, slight hurt/comfort a/n: part 2!!!! question: would people prefer a few longer parts or more shorter parts? because i can either do like 3-5 more longer parts or a bunch more shorter parts, i cannot decide

“So,” Chris starts as he turns to you, gently squeezing your hand that rested under his. “We should talk about boundaries and stuff.”

You nod in confirmation, trying to ignore the spike in your anxiety.

“What is it that you find most intimidating about physical touch? Is it just generally or something specific?” He asks gently, tracing subtle patterns on the back of your hand.

“Um.” You hesitate, thinking. “I think initiating it?” You question aloud.

“I just get so anxious that I’ll make people feel uncomfortable, or something similar to how I felt back then. But then I feel like I’ll be annoying and like people will hate me if I constantly ask.” You feel your voice tremble slightly as you look down at your entwined hands.

“Well, you would never annoy me… But, would it be easier if I just gave you, like, blanket consent? So you don’t have to ask, I’ll just tell you if I’m uncomfortable.” He asks, and the sincerity in his tone makes your stomach turn.

“Are you sure that you’d be okay with that?” You ask, hesitant to agree.

“I’m sure. I doubt you’ll make me uncomfortable, because I love physical touch, but if you ever do, I promise I will tell you.” He gently affirms, continuing his gentle ministrations on your hand.

You pause, still hesitant to agree. He notices, squeezing your hand again, prompting you to look at him.

“Hey, I want to help, however you’ll let me. I promise you that I want to do this, I want to do whatever it takes to help you.” He murmurs softly, his eyes showing his earnesty and you feel an odd turning in your stomach as you look at him.

You hum, nodding. “Okay. Thank you.” You whisper, before taking a deep breath.

“You’re safe here, I promise.” Chris affirms, pulling you close and hugging you.

“Now, would you prefer me to ask before I touch you? Or would you rather something else?” He hums quietly and you can feel the vibration of his words from where you're pressed against his neck.

“Um…” You hesitate, feeling slightly freaked out by the sensation and simultaneously unsure how to respond to his question.

You pull back, so that the two of you are sitting and facing each other once more.

“Can you, like, ask after you touch me?” You pause, anxious despite knowing you have his full support. 

“If that uh, makes sense.” You ramble, unsure. “That way I can like, see how it feels before I decide whether I like it or not.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Chris says, smiling softly.

“So, I should hug you, and then ask if it’s okay?” He reiterates, maintaining reassuring eye contact with you.

“Yeah,” you nod. “That way I’m less likely to overthink it.”

He hums in understanding as you release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

“And please, please, never be afraid to tell me to stop, or that you're uncomfortable.” He squeezes your hand as you look away. “I will never, ever be even remotely upset or offended.  I promise.”

“Hey, look at me.” He says softly as you turn back to him.

“I need you to promise.” He says and you feel your heart rate spike. “Promise me that you’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable, or upset with me in any way.” 

“I promise.” You affirm, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart.

“I want you to feel safe with me.” He whispers softly and you can’t help but reach forward and hug him, seeking solace in his arms.

“Thank you.” You whisper quietly.

“Always.” He whispers back, holding you close.

“Now,” he starts again sometime later. “Is there anything you’re not okay with? In regards to touch.”

You sit up again, this time shifting so your legs are crossed.

“Um… neck touching, especially kisses. Makes me extremely uncomfortable.” You look at the ground, trying to avoid his eyes.

“Gentle touches, like on my arms, they either make me sleepy or itchy, so I’d rather you don’t do that.” You continue, trying to think.

“Oh! Do NOT tickle me. Ever. I will punch you, in the face. That’s not a threat, just the truth.” You state as he giggles.

“Okay, noted.” He laughs, urging you to continue.

“Oh, and please don’t put your mouth near my ears.” You blurted out before laughing at your unusual wording.

Chris bursts into laughter.

 “Why on earth would I ever do that?” He exclaims in shock.

“I don’t know!” You clamor, valiantly defending yourself. “In books and stuff they talk about people affectionately nibbling on people's ears and it freaks me out!”

“Okay no, that’s understandable. But why did you say it like that?” Chris gasps out through his laughter.

“Because I-” You pause, making him laugh even harder. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, okay. So no ear-nibbling.” He repeated, giggling at your facial expression. “No gentle touches, neck touching or tickling.” 

“Yes.” You affirm, nodding.

“Anything else you’d rather I don’t do?” He asks as he tries to control his breathing.

“Uhhh- please don’t touch my thighs, or feet. I really don’t know why you would but yeah.” You murmur as he bursts into laughter again.

“Okay, okay.” He giggles and you feel your face growing warm. “I won’t ever be doing that.”

“Thank you.” You reply awkwardly, making him laugh harder as you gently slap his arm.

“Is there anything you’d rather I don’t do?” You ask once the two of you have stopped laughing and regained your breath.

“Oh!” He replied, seemingly surprised at being asked. “Not really, no.”

“Let me know if there is anything.” You affirm as he hums in response.

The two of you fall into an awkward silence for a moment, unsure as to how to proceed.

“So, do you just want to do platonic stuff for now?” Chris asks, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“You were serious about that?” You gasp, shocked.

He giggles at your shock.

“Yes, I was.” He teased, but there was honesty in his tone..

“But we don’t have to do anything before you’re ready.” Chris affirms, but you can barely hear him over the sound of your internal screaming. “Or ever. It’s your call.”

You have nothing to say in response, simply resorting to putting your head in your hands and trying not to freak out.

“Love, you okay?” Chris asks gently and you manage out a strained yes in response.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” He questions, evidently worried. 

“No.” You replied, your desire to ease his worries overriding your fluster.

“Can I touch you?” He enquires, voice gentle and caring. You hum in response, still slightly overwhelmed.

He gently moves your hands from your face, holding them in his, the motion revealing your red face. He giggles as he notices your blush.

“Shut up!” You exclaim, extracting your hand to lightly slap his arm, making him laugh harder.

“Okay, okay.” He giggles, swinging your entwined hands.

“But seriously, when or if you’re ready, let me know. I’ll be here.” You feel your heartbeat race as you process the earnesty in his tone and eyes.

“Thanks.” You squeak out before immediately hiding again, grumbling at him slightly before you eventually join in with his continued laughter.

This is a work of fiction, based entirely on my personal perception of him, and does not reflect his actual character or actions.

ʚ✩ɞ taglist ʚ✩ɞ

@jennibahng @jchasseblog @itzkingbo

[lavenders388]

HII!!

could we please get some kang dae ho x reader??

something where he’s a bit of his usual himbo self and the reader is maybe a bit airheaded— something about two people being in love with one another while the world around them is burning is amazing.

~Flowers in December~

<3 Kang Dae Ho x Reader

requested 💌

authors note: i am amazed by the amount of requests and also so flattered!! I am so happy to get back into writing not only for myself but to be able to make other people happy to see their ideas come to life!! i apologize if this has some flaws i cant wait to get more practice in and promise the next will be better!! feedback is always appreciated! thank you all so much!!<3 -matcha

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...

~takes place during the second night~

"we should all take turns keeping watch over the group" player 456 urged as the warning for lights out echoed throughout the room, the rest of the group silently agreeing- trusting the man who claimed to have been in one of the previous games, leaving as the sole survivor. you were, as were many others, reluctant to believe that he had done all of this before, but after his help in the first game and joining his team for the second, you grew to trust him; and the other members of your group. the man that had been assigned your partner for keeping watch was coincidentally a member you were drawn to specifically- at first because he was close to your age, his boyish face making you feel a little less scared and alone in the second game, and eventually you appreciated his outward personality and kindhearted confidence, a stark contrast to the situation you both were in. as you sat together, although trying to protect your group from whatever could happen in the dark room, you felt even safer. "how in the world did you pull that off?" you broke the silence with a whisper, referring to him playing gonggi in the previous game. "my hands were shaking so badly i could barely even hold my ddakji." he laughs, a bit louder than he should have given the people sleeping, but it made you smile. "i told you all i played with my sisters!" he chuckles. "you said you know how to do it yeah," you retorted, stifling a giggle at him being unaware of the compliment. "you didn't tell us you were amazing at it, that was a surprise." he turns away, embarrassed of how deeply your compliment made him grin and scared you'd see him blushing even in the dark. "thank you y/n." he says bashfully as he regains his composure. the silence returns; the reality of where you're both having this conversation threatening to creep back in. his gaze softens as he turns to you again, "you did really well with your ddakji you know, doing it the first try is really impressive, especially given the circumstances." you smile, a toothy grin as not only are you proud of yourself but you appreciate the compliment; especially from him. the kind, authentic way he states how good you did has you unable to find a response. "t-thank you" you say, blushing and still smiling. "it helped that nobody was there, i get nervous when people are watching me." his demeanor changes. he nervously runs his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry if i made you nervous, y/n" he says sincerely. your confusion shows on your face until you realize what he means. "oh no don't worry! i meant the crowd, like how everybody was cheering for the other teams! i didn't want them all to see if i messed up. you watching me helped actually. it made me less nervous." the silence returns; comfortingly. you've forgotten where you are, you've forgotten what would have happened if you'd messed up, all that's on your mind is the man sitting next to you. when you look back he's staring at you. smiling. "thank you for being on my team." you say to him as he turns away, trying to hide how long he was looking at you. you've never seen him speechless before. "if we work together nothing can stand in our way." he said to you just as he said to jung bae before the game. "i am truly honored you feel that way." you half-joke. "what are your plans for tomorrow?" you ask as if youre speaking to him in a normal situation. "oh wait im sorry!" you laugh. "well i bet they're the same as mine then!" you joke about your forgetfulness as well as making light of where you find yourself. like hes done for you, he also had forgotten the events of the day and what followed tomorrow. the two of you talking made him feel as though he was living a good, normal day. it was greatly appreciated by him, your bubbly nature being a moment of solace.

a/n if this is buns at all please lmk what i can do better!!! ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆