#leather computer bag

[moovforward]

Shop Motion Vegan Leather Computer Bag For Women - Moov

Find the perfect blend of fashion and functionality with our vegan leather computer bag for women. Explore the Motion collection at Moov Forward for trendy designs.

[leathermessengerbagformens]

Elevating Style: The Timeless Appeal of Leather Messenger Bags for Men

Introduction:

In the realm of men's fashion, certain accessories stand out for their ability to effortlessly blend style and practicality. Among these, the leather messenger bag for men has emerged as a timeless classic that transcends fleeting trends. But is a messenger bag stylish? In this article, we explore the enduring allure of leather messenger bags and why they remain a stylish choice for men seeking sophistication and functionality in their accessories.

Icon of Timeless Elegance: Leather messenger bags are synonymous with timeless elegance, boasting a classic design that exudes sophistication and refinement. Crafted from premium quality leather, these bags acquire a rich patina over time, enhancing their character and charm with each passing year. Unlike trendy accessories that may lose their appeal after a season or two, leather messenger bags age gracefully, becoming cherished companions that tell a story of enduring style.

Versatility in Design: One of the key reasons why leather messenger bags are considered stylish is their versatility in design. From sleek and minimalist designs to more rugged and distressed finishes, there is a leather messenger bag to suit every taste and preference. Whether you prefer a classic briefcase-style messenger bag or a modern crossbody design, the wide range of options ensures that you can find the perfect leather messenger bag to complement your individual style.

Practicality Meets Sophistication: Beyond their aesthetic appeal, leather messenger bags offer practicality and functionality that elevate their status as stylish accessories. With multiple compartments and pockets, they provide ample storage space for essentials such as laptops, tablets, documents, and personal belongings. The adjustable shoulder strap ensures comfort during daily commutes or travel, making leather messenger bags a practical yet sophisticated choice for men on the go.

Complementing Every Ensemble: One of the hallmarks of a truly stylish accessory is its ability to enhance any ensemble, and leather messenger bags excel in this regard. Whether paired with a tailored suit for a business meeting or worn with jeans and a t-shirt for a casual outing, a well-crafted leather messenger bag adds a touch of class to any outfit. Its versatility allows it to seamlessly transition between different settings, making it a versatile accessory for every occasion.

Conclusion:

In conclusion, the question of whether a messenger bag is stylish can be unequivocally answered in the affirmative. Leather messenger bag for men epitomize timeless elegance, versatility, and practicality, making them a stylish choice for discerning gentlemen. With their classic design, enduring quality, and ability to complement any ensemble, leather messenger bags continue to be a staple accessory that adds a touch of sophistication to every look. So, if you're considering investing in a leather messenger bag, rest assured that you're making a stylish and timeless choice that will stand the test of time.

[leathermessengerbags]

Mastering Style and Function: A Guide to Wearing a Messenger Bag with Panache

In the realm of fashion and functionality, few accessories strike the perfect balance quite like the messenger bag. But while its practicality is undeniable, mastering the art of wearing a leather messenger bag with style requires a touch of finesse. Fear not, for we're here to guide you through the ins and outs of rocking this iconic accessory like a true fashionista or fashionisto.

Embrace the Cross-Body Chic

The quintessential way to wear a messenger bag is across the body, with the strap slung diagonally from one shoulder to the opposite hip. This not only distributes weight evenly but also adds a dash of urban-cool to your ensemble. Adjust the strap to ensure the bag sits comfortably at your hip, allowing easy access to your belongings without compromising on style.

Mix and Match Materials

When it comes to leather messenger bags, variety is the spice of life. Experiment with different materials and textures to elevate your look and add visual interest. Classic canvas exudes a casual vibe perfect for everyday wear, while leather lends a touch of sophistication that effortlessly transitions from day to night.

Size Matters

Consider the size of your mens leather messenger bag in relation to your body and the occasion. Opt for a larger bag with ample storage space for daily essentials like laptops, tablets, and notebooks, ideal for work or school. For a more streamlined look, choose a smaller bag that holds just the essentials for a night out or weekend adventure.

Coordinate with Your Outfit

Coordinate your leather messenger bag for men with your outfit to create a cohesive and polished look. For a casual daytime ensemble, pair a canvas messenger bag with jeans and a T-shirt for laid-back charm. Elevate your office attire with a sleek leather computer bag that complements your professional style. Don't be afraid to play with colors and patterns to add personality to your outfit.

Experiment with Styling

Get creative with how you wear your brown leather crossbody bag to suit your personal style and mood. Wear it messenger-style across the body for a classic look, or sling it over one shoulder for a more relaxed vibe. For a fashion-forward twist, try wearing it on the back like a backpack or carry it by the top handle for a chic handbag alternative.

Own Your Look with Confidence

Above all, wear your leather shoulder bag with confidence and swagger. No matter how stylish your outfit or accessory may be, confidence is the key to pulling off any look with panache. Rock your leather laptop bag with pride, and let your individuality shine through.

[outbacksaddles]

Each leather has its personality and charisma, and every leather handbag differs. Therefore, when you are planning on purchasing leather purses or handbags, first learn about the different types of leather used in making them. And only then will you be able to make an informed choice.

[cinemaocd]

men don't want women. men want fanny packs that are called edc sling belt bag or some shit....

[hua-fei-hua]

*eating my own computer bag* there is... a ZINE...... i am interested in applying to again..................................... but i do not want to de-anon my gnshn fics...............

[leathershoulderbag-blog]

Top 5 Leather Messenger Bags Under $100: Affordable Elegance

Introduction:

In the realm of fashion, leather messenger bags for men stand out as a timeless accessory that effortlessly combines style with practicality. While luxury brands often command high prices, there's no need to break the bank to enjoy the sophistication of leather. In this article, we present the top five mens leather messenger bag under $100, proving that elegance can be affordable.

Classic Charm: Rustic Town Leather Messenger Bag

Explore the enduring appeal of this classic messenger bag, crafted from genuine leather and featuring a sleek design that transcends trends. With multiple compartments and adjustable straps, it offers both style and functionality at an unbeatable price.

Urban Chic: Rustic Town Vintage Leather Messenger Bag

Dive into the vintage-inspired charm of this leather messenger bag, perfect for the modern urbanite seeking to make a statement. Despite its affordable price tag, it boasts premium leather construction and ample storage space, making it a standout accessory for daily use.

Minimalist Sophistication: Rustic Town Slim Leather Messenger Bag

Discover the minimalist elegance of this slim leather messenger bag for men, designed for those who prefer a streamlined aesthetic. With its clean lines and understated design, it epitomizes sophistication while remaining budget-friendly, proving that less is indeed more.

Functional Versatility: Rustic Town Multi-Pocket Leather Messenger Bag

Uncover the versatility of this multi-pocket leather messenger bag, ideal for the modern multitasker who needs to stay organized on the go. From laptops to notebooks, its spacious compartments accommodate all your essentials without compromising on style or affordability.

Contemporary Cool: Rustic Town Modern Leather Messenger Bag

Embrace contemporary style with this modern leather messenger bag, featuring a sleek silhouette and innovative design details. Despite its budget-friendly price, it exudes sophistication and practicality, making it a top choice for fashion-forward individuals.

Conclusion:

Elegance doesn't have to come with a hefty price tag. With the top five leather messenger bags under $100, you can enjoy the luxury of leather without breaking the bank. From classic charm to contemporary cool, these affordable options prove that style and affordability can go hand in hand. Upgrade your accessory game with a leather messenger bags for men that combines elegance, functionality, and unbeatable value.

[bestjournalcovers]

Unveiling the Essence of Style: Leather Messenger Bag For Men

Introduction

Welcome to the epitome of sophistication and functionality - the leather messenger bag for men. In the realm of accessories, few items exude the same level of timeless elegance and practicality as this quintessential piece. Join us as we delve into the intricacies of this must-have accessory for the modern gentleman.

The Charm of Leather

Craftsmanship Redefined

Crafted from the finest leather materials, messenger bags for men are a testament to unparalleled craftsmanship. Each stitch is meticulously placed, ensuring not only durability but also a touch of artisanal finesse. Unlike synthetic alternatives, genuine leather messenger bags age gracefully, developing a rich patina that tells the story of its wearer's journey.

Timeless Appeal

In a world dominated by fleeting trends, leather messenger bags stand as timeless classics that defy the passage of time. Their classic silhouette and understated elegance make them a versatile accessory that seamlessly complements any attire. Whether paired with a tailored suit or casual jeans, a leather messenger bag for men adds a touch of refinement to every ensemble.

Versatility Personified

From Boardroom to Bar

One of the defining features of leather messenger bags for men is their ability to transition effortlessly from professional settings to casual outings. Equipped with ample storage space and organizational pockets, these bags are designed to accommodate the needs of the modern man on the go. Whether you're heading to a business meeting or meeting friends for drinks, a leather messenger bag ensures you do so in style.

Tech-Savvy Companion

In an increasingly digital world, messenger bags for men have evolved to cater to the needs of the tech-savvy individual. With dedicated compartments for laptops, tablets, and other gadgets, these bags offer both protection and convenience for your electronic essentials. Say goodbye to bulky laptop bags and hello to streamlined sophistication with a leather messenger bag.

The Sustainability Factor

Eco-Friendly Choice

Concerns about environmental sustainability have prompted many to seek out eco-friendly alternatives, and leather messenger bags fit the bill perfectly. Sourced from responsibly managed farms and tanneries, ethically sourced leather minimizes environmental impact while supporting local communities. By opting for a leather messenger bag for men, you're not just making a fashion statement; you're also making a conscious choice to prioritize sustainability.

Longevity Guaranteed

Unlike mass-produced accessories that quickly wear out, leather messenger bags are built to last a lifetime. Their inherent durability reduces the need for frequent replacements, contributing to a more sustainable consumption model. With proper care and maintenance, a leather messenger bag becomes a cherished companion, growing more beautiful with age and embodying a legacy of quality and longevity.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the leather messenger bag for men is more than just an accessory; it's a symbol of timeless elegance, versatility, and sustainability. Whether you're a professional navigating the corporate landscape or an urban adventurer exploring the city streets, this iconic accessory serves as the perfect blend of style and functionality. Elevate your everyday look and make a lasting impression with a leather messenger bag that speaks volumes about your discerning taste and refined sensibilities.

[fantasyplusimpression]

(via Housse d'ordinateur avec l'œuvre « Texture cuir noir brut usé » de l'artiste Fantasyplus)

[skzdarlings]

the ride ; skz ; chan x reader

original ask: requested by @rosequartsz : chan with the prompt ❛ i want to fuck you so badly. ❜ like the reader is the same age as jeongin so chan kinda feels bad but at the same time he wants to corrupt the reader so bad cushsisjsis

+

original ask: requested by anonymous : Chan and ❛ please. make me feel good. no one else can like you. ❜ ❛ have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it. ❜

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: friends to lovers, chan is a little older than reader, reader is not actually that innocent but pretends to be and they both get off on it lol. some not very safe driving lol keep ur eyes on the road. car sex, dirty talk, teasing, corruption play, puuuuure smut. word count: 2400 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

-

“That’s not fair,” Jeongin says.  “I called dibs.”

“Too bad.”  You stick your tongue out at him.  “Learn to run faster, loser.”

Jeongin scowls, once more relegated to the backseat of Chan’s car.   You are sitting pretty in the passenger seat for the fourth day in a row and Jeongin is playfully annoyed about it. 

You and your twin brother have been racing into Chan’s car since high school.  You are both at university now, but Chan still offers the occasional lift.  With storm season making public transit a bigger hassle than it’s worth, Chan has been offering more rides. 

Just because of the weather.  Not any other reason.  Of course.      

You smirk, casting a side-glance into the driver’s seat.  Chan is smiling at Jeongin through the rearview mirror, looking less like Channie, the boy of your teenage fantasies, and more like Bang Chan, the man of your adult dreams.  He is wearing a baseball cap and leather jacket, his whole demeanour oozing an effortless masculinity, the bearing of a competent man who knows he can do anything. 

And still, despite his well-earned cockiness, he has an undoubtedly shy side.  When he looks at you, the tips of his ears flame an embarrassed, fiery red, and his dimpled smile is almost boyish in its sweetness. 

“Right then,” he says.  Then, like the endearingly cheesy goofball he is, he adds, “All aboard, ready for takeoff!” 

“Jeongin,” you say, blinking innocently at your twin through the mirror.  “You have your presentation notes, right?  You don’t want to forget them.”

Jeongin double-checks his bag but you already know he won’t find them.  You deliberately took them out and placed them on the kitchen counter.

“Damn,” he says, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt.  “I thought I put them in here.  Sorry, I’ll be right back.” 

Jeongin practically flies out of the car and up the driveway, leaving you and Chan.  It happens quickly, before Chan can even compute it.  You can see the gears turning in his head, but you are faster, sighing melodramatically while gathering the hem of your skirt. 

“Silly boy,” you say.  “What should we do while he’s gone?”  You draw your skirt up your thighs just enough to tease the skin of your upper thighs. 

Chan is staring there with his mouth open, his words evaporating on his tongue.  He clears his throat after a second, ripping his gaze away.  He looks across the dashboard and laughs, a shy, awkward laugh. 

“Your brother will be back in a second,” Chan says.  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, yeah?”

He is white-knuckling the steering wheel, like all his restraint is being poured into that physical grip.  Even so, it is not hard to pry his hand off the wheel.  You know a stronger, more belligerent shove could not bend a determined Bang Chan, but the softest touch from your gentle hands will have him breaking in seconds.   

You are slow, casual despite your racing heart, guiding his hand onto your knee.  He makes a little noise that turns your whole body to pure, liquid heat.  You make a similar sound, a faint whimper in the back of your throat, as you slide his hand up your thigh. 

“Channie,” you say, your too-sweet, too-innocent voice part of your acting, but your breathlessness undoubtedly real. 

“Don’t—”  His voice breaks and he clears his throat.  “Don’t say my name like that.  You know—”  

“What do I know, Channie?” you ask, blinking at him with wide eyes while you curl his fingers around your thigh.  You bring your legs together, holding his hand between them.

He visibly swallows, throat bobbing.  The redness has spread from his ears down his neck. 

“We’ve talked about this, baby girl,” he says, his tone stricter, taking on that darker edge that makes your heart – and everything else – gush.   “We’ve been good so far, okay?”   If stolen kisses, open zippers, and groping touches count as good.  “You’re my – you’re my friend.  You should be like a little sister or something to me… yeah?  Yeah… Yeah!”  He shakes his head, pulling himself out of the distraction caused by you unzipping your jacket.  He squeezes your thigh, a firm, warning grip.  “Don’t make this so hard,” he says. 

“What’s hard for you, Channie?” you ask, reaching into his lap and touching his thigh, then higher, finding the evidence of his words.  A shiver moves across his shoulders, his breath catching as you cup your palm around the bulge in his jeans.  “Is it something I can help you with?”  You lick your bottom lip then smile. 

“Oh,” he says.  His eyes crinkle with amusement but there is a score of different emotions on his face, all of them smoldering.  “You really wanna play that game, huh?” 

There is no chance for an answer because Jeongin returns, hopping into the car with his notes.  You and Chan separate, looking out the dashboard window.  You pat your hot skin and try to slow your racing heart. 

Sensing the oddly silent tension, Jeongin narrows his eyes and looks between you.  Eventually, his expression sours like he smells something bad. 

“Oh my god,” he says, then punches Chan in the shoulder.  “Are you fucking my sister!”

“What!” Chan says, getting redder by the second.  “Jeongin, how could— I wouldn’t— I don’t—”

“What, you don’t fuck?” Jeongin asks, then laughs until he is wheezing.  “You can do better, man.”

“Jeongin, shut up!”  You reach back to smack at him, rubbing your hand all over his stupid face and messing up his hair while he wails in protest.   

“All right, all right!”  Chan says, breaking you up.  “Let’s just… let’s just go, okay?  Okay.” 

“Yes, daddy,” you say, mostly out of spite. 

Chan squeaks. 

Jeongin pretends to gag then slumps against his window.  

“I’m gonna need to start taking the bus,” he says, morose.

-

Fortunately, thanks to the impromptu revelation of your shenanigans, it does not take much convincing for Jeongin to find another ride home.  When Chan pulls into the campus parking lot to pick you up, you approach his vehicle with a grin and a wink.    

You slide into the passenger seat, smoothing down your skirt while he sighs.  It sounds more amused than frustrated.    

“Where’s your brother?” he asks. 

You shrug with theatrical exaggeration. 

“Right,” Chan says, starting the car.  “Got it.”

He puts a hand on your headrest to leverage himself, looking out the rear window as he reverses the car.  That proximity alone gets you hot, the temptation to grab him already strong.  You play a patient game, as always, stealing glances and suggestive smiles while he drives. 

Halfway home, you put a hand on his knee.  At first your touch is innocent, tracing slow circles on the denim, then you get a little more brazen, fingertips brushing up his thigh. 

“Baby,” he says in that warning voice, eyes on the road.  Holding the wheel with one hand, he uses the other to stop your wandering ascent. 

“Yes?” you ask with all that faux-innocence.  Rather than fight his touch, you guide his hand to your lap, placing it on your knee. 

Unlike this morning, he does not play nice.  You make a startled, high-pitched sound when he immediately dives under your skirt, his rough palm pressing down where you are already aching.   Your thighs slam shut out of instinct but his hand is where it wants to be, his fingers curled around your pussy in a proprietary touch. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice playfully mean.  He grinds the heel of his palm against your throbbing clit.  He never takes his eyes off the road.  “Isn’t this what you wanted?”  

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, though you cannot help but rock yourself against his hand. 

“Mmm,” he says, patting your pussy then stroking your thigh, guiding your legs open again.  “We’ll see about that.” 

You keep your eyes ahead too, pretending not to notice when he glances at you.  Then you gasp because he reaches out and tugs the zipper on your hoodie.  You instinctively clutch it, wearing nothing but a bra underneath, having taken off your other layers to surprise him.  He is the one surprising you, a secret sexy menace under all that shy sweetness.  He unzips the hoodie halfway then reaches past the material to squeeze a handful.  Your body practically sings under his touch. 

“Channie,” you say, breathless again. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says.  “Channie’s gonna take care of you, yeah?  Always.” 

“Take care of me how?”  Your question toys with that false innocence, the little game that gets you both hot, but there is genuine curiosity there too.   This game has been escalating slowly over time.  You want more and you are starting to get desperate. 

Chan looks at you.  His gaze moves over your mouth then your body, your skirt rucked up and breasts practically spilling out of your hoodie.  He swears, looking back at the road with that red blush on his ears again. 

“Fuck,” he says.  “I want to fuck you so badly.  You have no idea.” 

His words have a raw, honest edge.  He swallows, hard.  You feel like one tightly coiled ball of tension, ready to snap apart. 

“Please,” you say in that breathy voice.  “Make me feel good.  No one else can like you.” 

You do not make it all the way home.  There is a nearby lookout point at the park, a shrouded parking area that has undoubtedly seen its fair share of hook-ups.  Chan parks there and you dive at each other like randy teenagers.  You climb into his lap, bumping everything on the console on your way, the honking the horn with your backside for good measure.  It makes you both giggle.

Then your laughter is swallowed by hot, desperate, open-mouthed kisses.

“Mmm,” you hum against his lips.  You push his hat off his head and sink your fingers in his curly hair.  “Channie, please,” you say. 

He cups the back of your neck, holding your head where he wants it so he can kiss you thoroughly.  His ravishing touch leaves you shaking with need, rocking against him to no relief. 

“Poor baby,” he says with a little laugh, squeezing your neck then drawing his hand down the curve of your chest.  He unzips the rest of your hoodie.  His mouth follows the same path as his hands, down your chest and back up again. 

He is working you up, deftly and swiftly, using just a few well-placed throat kisses, a few flicks of his fingertips across the sensitive peaks of your breasts.  He seems so composed under you, other than the flush to his complexion, the heat to his skin that has him shedding his leather jacket.   You feel completely undone, half-naked and writhing in his lap.  Your hands tangle together, fumbling around his belt. 

“Let me,” he says.  He gets his belt open and his fly undone, then his hands are on you.  He doesn’t just tug your panties to the side but rips them apart, snapping the seams like they’re nothing.  Then those strong fingers are inside you, finding just how wet and ready you are for him.  He makes a low, guttural sound, thumping his head against the headrest.  “Fuck, baby girl,” he says.  “You know what you do to me?” he asks. 

“I dunno, Channie.”  You pout and bat your eyelashes.  “You better show me.” 

He laughs.  He holds your hips and moves you, positions you where he wants you.  You are pressed so close together, chest-to-chest, so you cannot see when he finally enters you.  But you feel it, hot and hard and filling you, stretching you, almost painful but burning so good.  You slap a hand to the roof of the car, eyes closing as you moan. 

“S-so much,” you say, because it feels like you have been sinking forever and he is still not all the way inside. 

“Yeah, I know, baby,” he says.  His thumb is expertly circling your clit while your whole body seems to soften, changing to fit him, like you were made for this moment.  “That’s it,” he says.  “Have a little trust in yourself.  I know you can take it.”

His thrusts are small, his hands guiding your hips over him, grinding him deep inside you.   Then you are clutching his shoulders, moaning into his neck as he fucks you slowly and steadily.  It is everything you needed and not enough, only spurring more desire.  You know you will need him again, the way he needs you.  Just the way he says your name as he holds you, as he fucks you, as he takes you apart and puts you together again.   It feels like that when you come, when he fucks you through it, saying your name and praising you. 

“Good girl,” he says, barely above a breath.  “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

When he gets close, he pushes the seat back.   You get on your knees between his legs and take him in your mouth.  He comes with a low groan and another breathless slur of your name.  Then you are back in his lap and his hands are everywhere, clutching you possessively to his chest.  You are both breathing hard, riding the slow come-down of your frantic desperation. 

“Fuck,” he eventually says.  He seems shy again, giggling as he looks at you with a blush on his face.  “We, uh, we just did that, in the car, uh wow, yeah, I, uh—”

“Channie,” you say with a laugh of your own, grabbing his face and kissing him.  He smiles into the kiss, returning it with the same tender softness. 

You kiss for a long time, ignoring the world around you.  Eventually you have to crawl back into your seat and mostly redress yourselves, still smiling and giggling at each other the whole time.  Your phone was buzzing in your bag so you finally check it, rolling your eyes at the message there.   

You show it to Chan who laughs, blushing again, but nods. 

“Right,” he says, “We should probably go get him.”

You laugh too, sending an emoji with its tongue sticking out in response to Jeongin’s message that reads:  My ride fell through.  When you are done not-fucking each other, can you come back and get me?  Thanks.  Sluts.   

[mrbackpacksandbags]

50% OFF NOW ONLY 1 YEAR WARRANTY FREE FAST SHIPPING WORLDWIDE FREE PERSONALIZATION

Custom Leather Laptop Bag by MrBackpacksAndBags, Leather Doctor Bag, Leather Briefcase

[luveline]

BABE i miss badass bau!reader!!! do you feel up to write something about her and spencer? 🫣🫣

—Spencer comforts you, even when you think you don’t need it. fem, 1.2k

You’d think that agents and staff working for the Behavioural Analysis Unit would use a little subtlety when gossiping about their coworkers. It’s in the name. You’re a profiler, after all, but you wouldn’t need to be to know that the sudden quiet that falls over the kitchenette area when you walk in is for a reason. 

You’re determined to act unbothered. Only, it’s high school all over again, the whispering and the staring boring holes in the back of your head, and you’re thinking What are they saying about me? What have you done now? 

Flustered, you make a cup of herbal tea and forget it on the counter by the sink. Humiliated, you rush back to your desk. 

Spencer doesn’t look up as you sit. Your desks are together again for now, but who knows what whim will have Hotch separating you again. Last time it had been for ‘enabling bad behaviour’. 

So what if Spencer likes to talk? He’d only think all the things he’s saying to himself. You’re speeding up the process if anything by listening. Plus, whatever the others might think, he’s interesting, smart and funny and he deserves to be listened to when he wants to tell you things. 

“Hey,” you say, trying to push the humiliation brewing in your chest back to a quiet place. 

“Hey,” he says. He talks to you in a way he doesn’t with the others. He’s more relaxed, less exuberantly friendly and more like a true friend. 

He’s the only one in this whole office you’d ever want to sit next to every day. “Hi. What are you reading?” 

Spencer folds his novel closed over his hand, an answer on his lips that stutters and fades. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You look unhappy.” 

It’s that unfortunate moment that Morgan decides to arrive, a cup of coffee in one hand, a brown paper bag in the other. He shrugs out of his leather jacket, eyeing you both where you’ve stopped your conversation, the slight light of smugness to his eyes as he says, “Doesn’t she always?” 

“Around you, Morgan, yes,” you say, turning your body fully to your computer. “That would be accurate.” 

Morgan laughs heartily. “You love me.” 

Maybe. You certainly don’t like him. Or, you’re annoyed with him most of the time. You wonder occasionally if he and the rest of your teammates are emotionally blind, considering the way they treat Spencer. Everybody makes their funny ‘harmless’ jokes, you’ve never understood why. They’re profilers, aren’t they? Can’t they tell it hurts his feelings?  And they love to tell you that Spencer’s your soft spot, he is, but he’s also a nice boy who wants to be listened to above all else, so you’re a little bitter about it. You weren’t too sweet to begin with. 

Today, you aren’t in the mood. You ignore Morgan and open your emails. 

“You want tea?” Spencer asks, standing from his desk. 

“No.”

“You always have tea in the morning. I’ll make it. Sit tight.” 

You follow Spencer’s figure as he leaves. Morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you from across the divider. 

“Do you ever think about taking him out?” Morgan asks. 

“That’s an inappropriate question,” you say. You aren’t monotone, but you certainly don’t bustle with emotion either.

“You like him, he likes you.” 

That’s exactly what Spencer needs, you think bitterly, the moody girlfriend, another thing to make him an outsider.

“You make each other happy,” Morgan continues.

“You get the same blueberry muffin every day,” you say, clicking an email attachment Hotch sent this morning distractedly, the temptation to roll your eyes at an all time high, “will you marry the baker?” 

“I could. His wife might not like the idea.” 

You hold in a smile. You sort of maybe do love Morgan, even when he’s prying. Better when Spencer returns and Morgan asks about the younger man’s weekend trip to Quantico’s seven floor library. 

“It was awesome,” Spencer says, putting a mug down in front of your keyboard, his palm still warm from the mug taking temporary station on your shoulder. “There were more books about inmate crime than there were dictionaries. Is that okay?” 

You take a sip of your tea. “It’s perfect,” you confess once you’ve swallowed. How does he know how you like it? He must steep it just as you do. Even the water level. You’d think it were the tea you’d left behind if it wasn’t in a new mug, scalding hot. 

“Morgan, could you excuse us, please? For five minutes?” Spencer asks. 

Your eyes widen of their own accord. Morgan makes flirty winky faces to hide his concern and meanders up the steps to Hotch’s office, pointedly looking away from the bullpen and your mess of desks. 

“What’s going on?” you ask. 

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Spencer says. 

He’s wearing his glasses today, a rare sight these days, less so at the office when you’re sure there won’t be a case to go on. His hair curls at the base of his neck and flicks out under his ears, brown eyes like the flat of a mirror against the light, dark and deep. You wince when you realise you’ve been looking him over intensely, averting your eyes to the cup of tea warming your fingers. 

“You know you can tell me anything,” he says. 

“Sure.” 

“I’d defend you. Just like you would for me.” 

You drag your eyes to his. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“I mean, if you want me to go fight your corner, I will.” 

“Who says I need that?” 

“It’s Madge, right? The blonde woman with the pearl earrings. She and Andrea monopolise the kitchen in the morning and talk about all of us.” 

You hate profilers, but you could never hate Spencer. You can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he’s worked out what perturbed you so quickly. 

You cross your arms over your chest, leaning back in your desk chair slowly. “There’s no point arguing with them, babe, you’d end up at Human Resources by the end of the day forced to write an apology letter.” 

Spencer looks like he wants to touch you again, hand heistant, fingers moving as though he’s typing curled into his palm. “I’ll stick up for you if you want me to. I don’t care if they make me write a letter.” 

“Can’t argue over silence,” you say.

It’s a kind offer, and he really is so handsome. Everybody else in the office might drive you up the wall but he’s a sweetheart, through and through. 

“I like when you smile. Doesn’t happen much,” he murmurs. 

If it were anyone else, you’d tell them to fuck off. “Thank you, Spencer. I like your smile too.” 

He leans down for a hug. Again, if it were anyone else, you’d wriggle out of reach and give a speech on boundaries, but it’s him. He folds his arms behind your head and back, encouraging your face into the crook of his neck as he bends to meet you, gentle even when you don’t hug him back. “Don’t listen to anybody,” he says, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. 

“I don’t.” 

“Who cares if they’re talking about us?” Spencer asks. 

You touch his waist. “Not me.” 

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], obsessive behavior, implied violence, implied emotional and physical abuse, implied brainwashing, knowledge based on spoilers from the first two episodes of the 2024 series.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only Radio Demon, Alastor! This is a collaborative piece written with @isuckatwritingsobenice, whom I share a mutual adoration for Violet Evergarden, the anime and titular character who is in my humble opinion, one of the best written female protagonists I have seen in anime.

As always, bullying is not tolerated here. If you have nothing nice to say, please do not say it. Furthermore, if you believe the warnings listed above will make you uncomfortable, please leave now.

For those who have decided to stay, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going for tonight's broadcast :)

Alastor is someone who thrives on entertainment and chaos. Seeing the scourge of Hell striving to redeem themselves in Charlie’s hotel, only to fail as soon as they gave into the vices they’ve been trying to cure themselves of? That’s the only reason he agreed to help the princess with her passion project. He needed some inspiration after lacking it for so many decades! 

When you had arrived at the hotel with nothing except the clothes on your back and a suitcase that protected your precious Remington typewriter, the Radio Demon would not deny that he was amused to see a sinner who actually saw his advertisement on the television. After all, no one was taking Charlie seriously, and who would? Apparently you did, but for a different reason: you were looking for a job, a purpose. You said so in the interview, and you were willing to learn. When Vagatha asked what would be considered a flaw in your work ethic, you took off your leather gloves and showed her and Charlie  the alloy prosthetics that acted as your new limbs after losing them in the war.

Why you still had them and why your appearance was wholly human, you did not know. Would this be considered a flaw? You were not sure either. You are still learning about modern technology, especially the handheld devices called cell phones. 

Although the staff was in dire need of someone who could advertise the Hazbin Hotel on the Internet, the princess found something you could do and might be adequate at: gardening. More specifically, being the hotel’s groundskeeper. Someone who can maintain the hotel’s outward appearance and make sure the hell-grass or weeds don’t  get too out of control. You stood up from your seat, feet planted together and saluted Charlie, promising that you will do your best in a monotone voice.

The poor dear did get a little flustered from your actions, but Vagatha did not seem to mind, asking you to follow her upstairs so that she could show you your new room and give you the key. Your first day will be tomorrow. 

Oh, this will be fun~! Alastor thought with a wide grin. Someone new to antagonize and watch fall into the fiery pits of failure! Husk was starting to bore him anyway. 

And he was not disappointed. 

He saw you struggle with holding a garden spade, laying down carpets of fresh grass neatly without trying to crush it between your prosthetic limbs, carrying fertilizer and what flowers to plant! These entertaining events happened within the first week of being here. Is he sorry that his shadows purposely swapped the fertilizer bags and replaced the seed bags to plant roses with rat bait? Absolutely not! 

The more chaos that he created, the more entertained he will be. The anticipation to see you crumble from the pressure and expectations of dear Vagatha and Charlie is almost palpable, he couldn’t wait! 

However, you were not someone who gave up as easily as he hoped you would. 

You kept showing up every day at the exact time, and worked in the garden until Niffty had to drag you inside to have lunch. Then you stayed outside for a bit longer, making sure everything was ready for the following day. You even tried to help out in the kitchen, though you were still struggling to properly hold a knife and chop up vegetables for his jambalaya or cracking eggs in a bowl to help Niffty bake a cake at nine o’clock in the evening because she was bored and wanted something sweet. 

You carried heavy crates of liquor for Husk and even massaged his temples when he complained of a headache. When you discreetly switched out the liquor in his booze for water one time he held a grudge against you for pulling that stunt for almost a week. He eventually forgave you by preparing a Shirley Temple on the house after you politely rejected a whiskey on the rocks because you did not drink alcohol. 

Sir Pentious, the wannabe overlord, was utterly fascinated with your prosthetic limbs and had asked you to let him examine them. That comment earned him a low, menacing growl from Vagatha, spear in hand. The Egg Bois seemed to like you well enough that they tried to help you out in the garden when all they really did was make your job a bit harder. You still thanked them anyway. 

Angel Dust tried to take you shopping for a new wardrobe since you always wore the same outfit every day, but his definition of fashion bordered on risque and flaunting his assets. You were not here to flaunt your appearance, you were here to work, but you thanked him anyway. When he came back to the hotel, staggering inside on wobbly legs and his face covered in black-blue bruises, you were the one who caught him and helped him settle on a table as Husk pulled out a first aid kit. You allowed Angel to put all four of his arms around you and cry on your shoulders, carefully placing your skeletal prosthetics around his back. 

How is it that a single sinner could empathize with everyone here except him? 

This singular thought, this curious idea, is what motivated Alastor to find out more about you. And there is no else in Hell who can spill the tea on someone as accurately as his dear friend Rosie. 

A trip to Cannibal Colony was in order~!  So he did go there, proclaiming he’ll be back before dinner and ignoring Vagatha’s cursing as well as the princess trying to calm down her short-tempered lover. 

As it turned out, he had heard about you, it’s just that the topic in question did not interest him at the time. Rosie conjured up some old newspaper clippings, pointing at the image of you fighting against an exorcist in hand-to-hand combat during the Extermination. This article had been written five years ago, and the one before that? Three years ago. It seemed like you were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time, and you fought back because that is what your life had been before; surrounded by violence, vanquishing enemy forces when they crossed your path. Yet when you did make an appearance, everyone in Hell clamored for any scraps of information. Anything to find out who is the mysterious sinner who looked like a human and could rip off an exorcist’s head bare-handed. 

Now, you were staying at the hotel trying to put whatever remained of your afterlife together. That is your true purpose and now the Radio Demon knew. 

Alastor thanked Rosie for the information and the company, leaving Cannibal Colony in a merry mood. Everything was in place. Everything made perfect sense now.

If you were looking for a way to be useful in his newest project, he can make that happen. All he needs to do is nudge you in the right direction without Charlie and Vagatha around.

They are adorable when they are taking turns being a guard dog around you, you sweet little darling~. 

Taglist

@chroniccorvus

@imperfectbloodmoon

@doc-tooth

@nixie-writes

@riddle-simp

@tired-of-life-86

@blackmageoffandoms

If you would like to be tagged in future yandere hazbin x reader fics, please comment on this post here. If you do not comment, then you will not be added on the taglist.

[kyrianne]

[Image ID: A series of screenshots from a Twitter thread by Jason Coupet / professajay.

Text begins: Man voting in Georgia is so different than in Illinois. When I lived in chicago, during early voting, I went to the local elementary school, waited in line about ten minutes, and they gave me a sheet of paper. I checked people off then I put it in the machine and left.

Not Georgia. We drove downtown because *every* other polling place had a line >90 minutes. We paid ten bucks to park. We went in the building, then emptied out pockets to go through a metal detector. We then saw a sign about where to park to get our parking validated. Inside.

We then waited in line ~80 minutes. We got to the end and we were given a form to fill out (?). We were told *not* to sign it until told. Then we were moved into a waiting room where we were given a ticket number, like when you are at the dmv.

We were told to get our IDs out and wait. We waited here for 15-20 minutes. When your number is called they took your form, did some stuff on the computer, then told you to sign the form. Then you get a little green card. You insert it into the machine.

Then you go through three or four prompts, including a very serious™️ warning about perjury, a totally necessary warning given how huge a problem stolen identity is for the purposes of voting on behalf of someone else.

You then finally vote, and after an “are you sure” prompt you get a sheet. You then have to walk the sheet over to feed it into a machine. About half of these were working.

The bottleneck was clearly the weird application and waiting room thing. There are two dozen people at a time sitting to have their stuffed checked. Think of it as regular voting except when you got there they had to run a credit check for *each person* like you need financing.

It was easier finishing my PhD paperwork. Thankful for the kind people (nearly all black women) the shepherded the processes. But man if you are poor or disabled or whatever, good luck yo. That should have been easier. We finished tho. Text ends.

Image ID: Two Black people are standing beside a city street and smiling at the camera, a man and a woman. The man has close-cropped hair and a beard. He is wearing a black hoodie that says Southside and has a sticker on his chest with a peach on it. The woman has large tortoiseshell browline glasses and long twist locs. She has a light brown leather crossbody bag, and is wearing a salmon-colored windbreaker. She also has a peach sticker on her chest, which she is pointing to. Her hand has a wedding ring. End ID]

[dsybouquet]

.. so what if u actually texted ceo! ellie ?

(read how it started here !<3)

you only left the bar after all chairs have been put up the floor was mopped cleanly and all customers have been (more or less) kicked out. your leather jacket covered the short work clothes you wore as you walk through the dark streets.

you for sure were freezing, but your home isn’t all too far. the empty streets where some what soothing. it was peaceful and quiet with only a couple of cars passing by.

when you entered your apartment, you dropped your little bag to the ground and took off your shoes. of course you had a long day ahead at uni and you knew for sure that if you don’t fall asleep right away, you will simply ignore 99% percent of your lectures. why, out of all mayors, did you choose psychology?

quietly, you dropped onto your couch and turned on the tv. with family guy playing in the background, you mindlessly scrolled though your social media accounts - despite you knowing that being sleep deprived will literally be the death of you.

all of the sudden you thoughts started to run. why did that ellie woman have such a chokehold on you? it’s not like you didn’t have plenty of people right on your doorstep. being a young barkeeper already arranged you all types of things and plenty of numbers.

but something about was different. she was so.. different.

or maybe it was just you being delusional about a woman a bit too beautiful. or maybe it was her flirty behaviour that made you nearly lose your mind.

either way she was all you thought about, and you only knew her for a couple of hours. you threw your phone aside covering you face with your hands.

“get a hold on yourself, ______.”

you told yourself. you were so delusional.

ellie was probably just a woman with too much money that went around and tried to be some what kind. but why was she being so.. gentle?

calling you a pretty girl and dear..

god you were losing your mind over her.

your eyes landed on your phone. the bill with her number on still plugged into your see-through case.

maybe you could try your luck..

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

“are you kidding me?”

ellie exclaimed when she entered her office the next morning and found one of her managers sitting in front of her.

“jesse, what the fuck?!”

she took off her coat and put it on her hanger.

“calm down.”

jessie tried to help ellie contain her anger, but the young woman was about to snap.

she woke up late, she was still tired, spilled her coffee on her way to her car and was stuck in traffic. and now jesse is trying to tell her that one of his agents fucked up with one of her most important clients? leaked confidential data?

she was not having it.

“calm down ? oh i am calm, jesse.”

ellie pulled a cigarette out of her pockets and light it up. she knew the consequences, the visits with her lawyer. and she knew she had to kick this agent out. slowly, she blew out the smoke of her cigarette.

“action plan, now.”

jesse lifted his hands up in air, trying to defend himself.

“kick h-“

“exactly. i will remove all his accesses. i will call our lawyer and he needs to someone, and i don’t care who but i’d prefer authorities, to check all of his private devices for internal information.”

while she was talking, she unlocked her computer and got onto work. ellie exhaled the smoke of her cigarette and looked at jesse.

the man in front of her sighed. jesse was sad to let this agent go, but after all he will be heavily impacted either way.

“what are you waiting for?”

“aye. see you for a coffee later?”

though ellie was his supervisor, they still were sort of friends.

ellie just scoffed - which in her being stressed language basically meant “yeah. now piss off.” - and waved goodbye before putting herself onto it.

hours and hours passed by, phone calls with her lawyer, phone calls with the client, phone calls with authorities - she was so sick of it by now.

leaning back in her overly comfortable office chair, she turned it to the window. she may be owner of one of the most important business on the market right now, but she’ll never get over the view of her top floor office.

she sighed and took it in, watching the sun slowly set. the buzz off her phone ripped her out of her thought.

a unknown number ? texted her ? did this idiot agent now got a hold of her number and is threatening her ?

ellie was quick with unlocking her phone only to see..

‘hey ! it’s your bartender from yesterday !’

she almost couldn’t believe that you actually texted her. after all she was a complete stranger. but then again - you were a university student working in a kind of run down bar.

anyways, she still remembered your name and saved your contact - and good lord she was quick with texting you back.

and good lord you texted back and forth for long, ellie didn’t notice that the sun was down by now.

she should leave the office and probably go back to her penthouse apartment and get some sleep.

damn it, why did you have to text her that you’re still in your universities library studying for your upcoming exam.

and why did she have the urge to pick you up and take you out for dinner ? what was it about you?

usually, ellie picks easy-to-get girls. a quick one night stand with not a lot of talking, maybe giving them a lift home in her bentley - if she was being nice.

she didn’t even know why she wanted to treat you better.

before ellie knew she was sitting in her white bentley, on her way to pick you up.

and you didn’t even realise she was actually doing it until you saw her. until you saw the woman exiting her beast of a car.

your eyes got so wide when you saw her with that sleek black coat, white turtle neck and black suit pants. she looked so good.

„hello beautiful.“

ellie smilingly said before opening the car door on the passenger side door for you to enter. you hesitated for a second, being kind of overwhelmed to get picked up from university like this.

however, you greeted her back and entered her car.

„getting shy now?“

she joked, starting the engine and pulling out of the study property. her smile was wide when she looked at you.

„no. i‘m just not used to getting picked up with this kind of service.“

ellie smirked. she knew her cars and her money was impressive. after all, it is exactly what most girls are after so she stopped bothering. she had it, so why not make good use of it?

„wanna go grab a coffee? i know a nice cafe around here.“

she suggested, already driving in the direction before you could answer.

obviously you agreed with the idea. spending hours studying and beating up your brain made you deep fried and having coffee with a stunning woman like she is exactly what you need.

her car stopped in front of an overly fancy building. for a second you thought she took you too a designer shop if some sort, but when you glanced out the window it was an actual cafe.

you felt out of place looking at the business men inside. with your hoodie and skirt. basic university fit - comfortable and chill.

ellie looked at you, noticing the slight uneasiness in your body language and look.

"don't worry, you'll be fine, dear."

you exited the car and entered the fancy cafe. chandeliers hanging from the top, covered in golden paint. the walls were painted in a a dark green shade.

it seemed so royal.

apparently ellie was a regular there. the waiter already knew her and greeted her with her name before leading the two of you to a place a bit away from the other people.

"what do you want ?"

she asked after you received the menu. all types of coffees, teas and cakes where listed on it, with prices far beyond your imagination

"a simple cappuccino."

ellie nooded, smiling and passing the order to the waiter, along with ordering a latte for herself.

"don't worry, it's on me."

you smiled and thanked her. when she told you she'd pick you up, you expected everything but not.. this. you'd be happy with getting some takeaway coffee from a local bakery. apparently ellie wasn't.

the coffee came anfd you carried on with you conversation. talking about your interestes, hobbies - everything but not work and uni.

suddenly, her phone rang. it was ellies lawyer.

"excuse me, love. i have to answer this call. i will be right back."

she got up and walked out of the front, looking kind of nervous.

you watched her pass by the window, walking back and forth. her expression changed from anxious and nervous to furious. sipping your coffee, you tried to figure out what was going on but eventually dropped it.

after a while she returned, sitting down again.

"i'm so sorry, but i will have to go back to the office. it's quite urgent."

she emptied her latte and waited for you to finish just as well.

"don't worry, ellie. i get it !"

with an apologising smile, she payed the bill for you two and left the cafe with you by her side.

"may i still drive you home? it'll start to snow soon and i rather have you safe inside before you have to walk and freeze."

a smile painted on your face. to be exact, you weren't used to this kind of princess treatment. but you didn't want to be a burden.

"it's okay, really. i don't want to take more of your time."

"no really, i want to do this."

eventually, you gave in and agreed. the second ellie started the engine, snowflakes started falling from the sky.

„see ? it‘s good than i‘m giving you a lift!“

you quickly typed your adress into her navigation system anf let her drive off. 80s rock music played from her radio as she drove to your home. you enjoyed every second - even tho it was silent between the two of you. both of you enjoyed it.

ellie placed her hand on your thigh and had her other one on her steering wheel. you glanced over. she looked ethereal. her green eyes pierced the snowy streets and her head slowly bopped to the music playing.

a beam of light from the warm streetlights illuminated her face whenever she drove past them and you felt like you‘re in some weird fifty shades of grey fanfiction.

she stopped right in front of your apartment building, glancing over at you.

„i‘m sorry, really.“

„don‘t worry.“

a bright smile was painted onto your face, causing ellies stomach to almost drop. you were such a sunshine on a snowy evening like this. before you could exit your car, she got out, opening the door for you.

„thank you, ma‘am.“

you said and took the hand she help out for you to help you get out. did you need these type of gestures? no, but you certainly enjoyed it. you never were treated this nicely.

she even went to the door with you, watching you unlook it.

„drive safe okay? snowy streets are dangerous.“

the concern in your voice and the worrying look of your eyes almost caused ellie to get a heartattack.

„and thank you. for this afternoon and the coffee, i enjoyed it a lot.“

you added and ellie nodded.

and she did something she never thought she would do - she opened her arms to give you a hug. and you accepted it.

it was a overly long hug and it was so comfortable. you took in her scent, the smell if her very intense and expensive perfume and the warmth of her body.

„i‘ll text you, pretty girl.“

she said, still holding you there. ellie didn’t even want to let go, but eventually had to.

before you went inside, she eyed you again. so pretty even tho you looked tired and wore a normal, casual outfit. you probably were the prettiest girl she ever saw.

„please do. would love to see you again.“

ellie smiled before adding a simple:

„trust me, you will.“

and watching you go inside with a ‚goodbye‘.

and she didn’t know yet that if she would fall for you, she’d fell hard and could never get up again.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

there we go !! thank you for your endless support on what i suppose is part 1 - which was just a brain rot of mine haha. i hope you enjoyed it!

let me know if you want me to keep this going ! xx

update: here goes part 3!

people asking to be tagged:

@harrysslutsstuff @vwonnie @mikaaj

[moamidzyism]

locked out (c.yj)

wc. 1468

genre. smut

tags. resident assistant!yeonjun x fem!reader, making out, handjob

a/n. this was definitely not a fantasy i had about one of the r.a.s that lived in my building last year. this one is a doozy but i hope you guys enjoy it lol

event masterlist more of my work

the knock on his door pulled yeonjun out of his desk chair. he sighed and reluctantly shuffled across the room. as he opened the door, he was met with the familiar sight of you, the shy resident that looked up at him with wide eyes when he held open the elevator doors for you on move-in day. now you stood in front of him with the same nervous energy.

he turned on his “on the lock voice” as he asked you what brought you to his door. you smiled bashfully, stumbling over your words as you explained that you got locked out of your room. he glanced down at his phone to check the time. 10:34pm flashed on the screen. he looked back at you apologetically. “the resource office is closed and i’m not sure who is on night duty today.” he explained to you.

“oh,” disappointment filled your face as your smile faltered.

“have you tried reaching your roommate?” he suggested.

you nodded, slumping your shoulders. “yeah, but she isn’t home and she says she might not be back for another hour or so.” your gaze drifted past yeonjun, lingering on the warmth of his room behind. “can i stay here?”

yeonjun looked back at his room for a moment and reminisced about the peaceful night he thought he was going to have. he turned back to you, eying you up and down. you were wearing a black mini skirt paired with a matching leather jacket. your arms were behind you, trying (and failing) to conceal the brown paper bag that you clutched in your hands.

he hesitated, sighing and massaging his temple, weighing his options. he couldn’t really deny support to one of his residents, especially when you were smiling at him so expectantly and coyly. “why not?” he finally relented, pushing the door open wider for you to walk in.

he watched you step inside and remove your jacket. you took a seat on the couch and also took in his room. his studio was a lot larger than yours, even though it was meant for one person, but those are just the perks of his job. the soft lighting of his desk lamp cast a gentle glow across the walls and his meticulously made bed that was tucked neatly against the back wall. he watched your face as your mind contorted trying to place his room in file of the character you have made of him. 

yeonjun walked in after you, but towards his desk instead. he glanced at the waiting room of his video game that had just loaded as soon as you knocked on his door. he sighed wistfully, shutting down the game and closing his computer. with a resigned air, he moved to join you on the couch. “so, how has your semester been so far?” he asked.

“it’s been okay,” you bit your bottom lip.

“made any friends?”

“i thought i did, but they ditched me tonight.” you admitted. you tried to mask your disappointment but he saw right through it.

“oh, that sucks.” he tapped your hand in support. “but it’s just the beginning of the year so you’re going to make new friends in no time.”

“yeah, true. at least i get to be here with you.” you tried to joke in a pathetic attempt to lighten the mood. yeonjun gave you a pity laugh and the conversation quickly dwindled from there.

you scanned the wall of his room, eyeing the posters, trying to find something that you could make into a conversation. yeonjun opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. he too looked around the room, racking his brain on what he could say to fill the void. your eyes met and you exchanged a tight lipped smile before immediately averting eye contact.

the silence stretched, filled only by the ambient hum of the room and the voices on the street outside.

“i’m sorry,” you laughed nervously after a while. “this is so awkward.”

“no, it’s not–” he started, but then he laughed too. “actually, yeah it is.”

“i’m usually better at talking to people, but this is just different, i guess,” you confessed, both of you turning to face each other.

“why would this be different?”

“this is so embarrassing. i shouldn’t have said anything,” you hid your hands in your face. he insisted you have to tell him, prying your hands off your face, a playful grin spreading across his face. you groaned but he promised that he wouldn’t laugh and so you told him all about the little crush on him that you had developed since the moment you met him.

you couldn’t stop the word vomit from rushing out of your mouth and yeonjun looked at you with amused eyes as you rambled on and on about how interesting and funny and cool and kind you think he is.

yeonjun reached out to gently take your hand. he squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing against your skin to comfort you. you inched closer and closer to him, trying to close the gap between the two of you. before he could process, your lips were on his, your hands cupping his face.

he pulled away and you were quick to rush into apologies and gather your things from the floor. yeonjun pulled you back into the kiss. without breaking the kiss, he pulled you onto his lap and you straddled him.

you wrapped your hands around his neck, your fingers threading through his hair in a way that makes him moan into the kiss. his hands roamed your back, pushing your chest closer to his. he had to admit, you’re a really good actress – the way you walked into his room, giving him your pathetic story about locking yourself out. but now he was the pathetic one underneath you. 

he broke apart from the kiss briefly. your foreheads rested against each other, your warm breath on his lips as you panted softly. “we really shouldn’t be doing this.” he groaned when you grinded against him. your hands made their way to the waistband of his gray sweatpants.

“i wouldn’t tell, if you don’t.” you pressed a series of tender kisses along his jawline.

yeonjun let out a low ok and you slid your hand inside his pants, your fingers brushing against his growing cock. his head fell back against the couch at the contact. you wrapped your hand around him, feeling his hardness as you began to stroke him slowly, deliberately, and gently.

yeonjun could feel himself quickly going insane with your every teasing touch, his breathing growing heavier. “that feels so good.” you watched him whisper with his eyes half-closed in pleasure. you watched intently at the way his expression shifted with each movement, the way his body responded to your touch.

as your hand moved faster, his breathing became more ragged, his moans loader. each stroke brought him closer to the edge, his body tense and trembling under your touch. he could feel the power you held over him and how his need for you grew with every passing second.

yeonjun’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss again. the room felt like it was spinning and the only thing that was keeping him grounded was his hands that gripped your hips, guiding your movements against him.

just as he was about to reach his orgasm, your phone rang. the sound jolted you both out of your haze. yeonjun let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back against the couch. “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” he muttered.

a string of curses fell from your lips as you reluctantly pulled away from him. your hand slipped out of his sweatpants, and you dug through your purse looking for your phone. the caller id showed your roommate’s name.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered as you answered the phone.

you tried to regain your composure and hoped that your roommate couldn’t sense your heart rate skyrocketing as yeonjun reattached his lips to your neck, biting and sucking ever so gently while your roommate tells you that she just got back to the dorm and she was making her way upstairs.

“okay, i’ll– i’ll see you soon.” you hung up the phone. “i have to go. my roommate is coming up now.” you told yeonjun, who whined in protest but still allowed you to collect your things and orient yourself before you left.

he walked you over to his door, and you turned around to pull him into a long, lingering kiss, your fingers gently curling into his hair. his lips met yours with fervor, but you quickly pulled away and opened the door.

“i’ll see you around, yeah?”

taglist: @naomiarai @dearlyjun @atinyniki @boba-beom @bunnie-hq @isabellah29 @pluviophile-xxx @wolfytae-exe @yutacchin @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinyelfperson @nikilvrfvr @wccycc @ryunjin0 @tyunzonlystar @thejadeazalea @mong-mong-seungmin @jjklvr9 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @snghoonluv @itzzz-yerin @ujisworld @milanco @gyulinoo @nounouzzn @enhaslxt @tenleeluvr @everythingboutkpop @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @yawnzsof @sthwaaberry @meowiejuns

comment below or send an ask to be included in the taglist for this event! fill out this form to join my permanent taglist!