styofa doing anything
Xuebing Du
★
roma★
Game of Thrones Daily
⁂
Claire Keane
Janaina Medeiros
blake kathryn
occasionally subtle
Discoholic 🪩
Sade Olutola
shark vs the universe
Kiana Khansmith
noise dept.
ojovivo
Kaledo Art
trying on a metaphor
Show & Tell
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
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@gildedsilk
─── 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗏𝖾𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝖣𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾 𝖡𝗅𝗎𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗌 𝖲𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝖽𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖨'𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝗎𝗆𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝗎𝗆𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅
© 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽 (@/𝗀𝗂𝗅𝖽𝖾𝖽𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗄 2025) 𝖣𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍. 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾.
I love myself. I love being gorgeous, I love being black, I love being intelligent, I love being kind, I love helping people, I love having good grades, I love being talented, I love being funny, I love being sensitive, I love being emotional, I love being girly, I love being sunshine, I love being warmth, I love being hopeful, I love being a steady light in uncertain moments. I am a gift to the world. My existence is meaningful and generous.
Which is why I will be leaving Tumblr for sure now. Anonymity is being abused as a tool for bullying and threats, and it has taken a toll on me once again. It is a new year, and I won’t keep letting these wannabe bullies get to me.
Tumblr, yes I lied about my age. I was not 18 when I started posting NSFW and interacting with NSFW posts and accounts. I was 17. Big whoop…? I felt so guilty that I owned up to it, apologized to who i felt deserved an apology, immediately stopped interacting + posting, and left everyone who set the “mdni” boundary alone (and blocked them myself). Just to get anonymous hate and threats to “expose” me for trying to find a safe space.
Lying is wrong. Omg no way!!! …Obviously I know lying is wrong, that’s why I decided to tell the truth before getting in too deep. But it is not like I was at an age drastically younger than 18… I was 17 (WELL into being 17 as well). I never harmed anyone. I do not deserve to be bullied over a mistake I apologized for. Especially after the people I apologized to supposedly forgave me and promised me they would not ruin my safe space.
Anyway, I know I’m not to blame for me receiving threats and being bullied anonymously. I am to blame for lying and crossing boundaries, which I repeatedly apologized for and cannot change. I think there are bigger, genuinely important things both these people and myself could be worrying about. So I will not be returning to Tumblr just to be a punching bag for grown adults who don’t actually care about “protecting minors”, as they claim.
This post is not about anyone who is my former mutual (unless you have been sending the threats). I believe it is their followers. Not the people who follow them, no, but their nosey ass mutuals in their servers who kiss their ass and wanted to be included in something and cause drama because they don’t have lives. Being a bully is not cool. Lying is not cool. But trust, as I owned up and apologized for what I did, they will not own up and apologize for what they are currently doing.
And yes, i will admit to being a bit salty lol . But yeah, there’s bigger things to worry about ! Goodbye, Silkies 💓 I’m sorry.
“𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐂” 𝜗℘ 범규.
𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𓈒 rockstar!gyu X fem!reader 1k+ words fluff
ᝰ.ᐟ uni au annoying!gyu queen bee reader reader thinks gyu is a loser (he is)
𝜗𝜚 𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ៹ Inspired by Rodrick x Regina ofc . I thought Yeonjun would also fit but Beomgyu was calling to me . I love mean girls I gotta watch it again . I posted a lot recently and moots still don’t interact with me anymore like damn . What did I do ? Anyways, happy thanksgiving .
If there was one thing everyone in school agreed on, it was that you and Choi Beomgyu should never be placed within a five-meter radius of each other.
He was the walking embodiment of a basement-band — smudged eyeliner, ripped band tees, metal rings he fidgeted with constantly, always smelling faintly of hair dye and energy drinks. He didn’t turn assignments in. He slept in class. He annoyed teachers on purpose. He once set off the smoke alarm microwaving aluminum foil just because Yeonjun dared him.
And you?
You were the queen bee.
The HBIC.
If you didn’t get what you wanted, you made the universe bend until you did.
Terrifying, charming, cunning.
A smile that could end careers.
A glare that could level a person’s self-esteem for the next decade.
So when the teacher announced partners for the semester-long sociology project, and your name got paired with—
“Choi Beomgyu.”
—you genuinely wondered if she had a death wish.
Beomgyu perked up from his slouched position, boots propped on the desk, chewing gum with the arrogance of someone who had no fear of consequences.
He looked right at you.
And winked.
The audacity.
Ridiculous.
Infuriating.
The class ooh’d like second graders.
You flipped your hair and pretended not to care, even though pure rage simmered behind your lip gloss.
Beomgyu sauntered over after class, leaning against your desk like he owned the place.
“Guess you’re stuck with me, princess,” he drawled.
You didn’t even look up. “I’m requesting a transfer.”
“Nope.”
He popped the p.
“Teacher says no switching. Shame, right? I’ll try not to ruin your reputation.”
You gave him a smile sweet enough to cause cavities.
“Don’t confuse yourself. You can’t ruin something above you.”
He laughed — laughed — like you’d complimented him.
“Damn,” he grinned, “you’re fun.”
Two days later, standing outside Beomgyu’s house, you seriously considered pretending to faint to avoid going inside.
It looked… lived in.
Not in a cozy way — in a boys-share-this-space unsupervised way.
Beomgyu opened the door wearing another ripped band tee, black nail polish half-chipped, hair fluffy in that messy, deliberate way.
“Welcome to the dungeon,” he announced, stepping aside.
You entered and immediately regretted your life choices.
There were guitars everywhere.
Vinyl records stacked like leaning towers.
A crushed energy drink on top of a speaker.
A pile of clothes whose smell you refused to investigate.
“This,” you said, “is a biohazard.”
Beomgyu flopped onto the couch like a starfish.
“Take a seat. Make yourself miserable.”
You remained standing.
He smirked.
“You scared you’ll catch my lifestyle?”
“I’m scared the CDC might break down your door.”
That earned a snort — loud, unfiltered, stupidly endearing.
He patted the spot beside him.
“Come sit. I’ll try not to shed on you.”
Against your own strategic better judgment, you sat — barely, like a cat unwilling to touch anything.
Beomgyu watched you with amused disbelief.
“You’re really committed to the bit, huh?”
“It’s not a bit,” you said coldly. “I have standards.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, leaning back. “Standards, but you’re still in my house. Interesting.”
Your jaw clenched.
This was already unbearable.
“Let’s work,” you said, pulling out your laptop.
But Beomgyu didn’t look at the laptop.
He looked at you.
Eyes flicking over you with that annoying punk-boy curiosity — like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
“You know,” he said slowly, “I don’t think you hate me.”
You scoffed. “I don’t think you think at all.”
“No, seriously.”
He leaned forward, elbows on knees.
“If you actually hated me, you’d ignore me. But you don’t. You get all… entertained when I bother you.”
You froze.
He grinned like he’d cracked a code.
You recovered quickly. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re background noise. Annoying background noise.”
“So you do hear me,” he teased.
Your eye twitched.
He threw his arms over the back of the couch, stretching in that careless way punk boys do — showing off rings, tattoos, wrists.
Annoying.
Distracting.
“I know you think I’m a loser,” he said casually. “But you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be.”
“I’m here because the teacher assigned it,” you snapped.
“Yeah,” he said softly, “but you’re still here.”
You opened your mouth — and realized you didn’t have a comeback.
That irritated you even more.
Beomgyu wasn’t supposed to be charming.
He wasn’t supposed to lean in close while reading your notes.
Or joke so easily you almost laughed.
Or ask questions that made it seem like he was genuinely— God forbid — interested in what you said.
But he did.
And the worst part?
He seemed to be enjoying your annoyance.
“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he said at one point.
You stopped breathing for a good four seconds.
“Say that again,” you warned.
He raised both hands.
“Relax. Your highness. Just an observation.”
You hated him.
You hated that he was fun.
You hated that he looked at you like he could see through the persona everyone else feared.
You hated that heat curled in your stomach when he smirked.
And he knew.
He knew.
Beomgyu leaned back, spinning a guitar pick between his fingers.
“You know what your problem is?” he said.
“My problem,” you repeated dryly, “is sitting on that couch.”
He laughed again — that loud, chaotic, unfiltered laugh that filled the whole room.
“No,” he said. “Your problem is that you think everyone’s scared of you.”
You froze.
His eyes softened. Just a little.
“But I’m not,” he added.
Stupid.
Arrogant.
Confident in a way you weren’t used to questioning.
You swallowed.
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “Because I see the act. You’re sharp, sure. Manipulative. Scary when you wanna be. But you’re also… lonely.”
Your breath caught.
“And honestly?” he said, brushing his hair back, rings glinting, looking unfairly good, “I think you’re more interesting than you want people to notice.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Warm.
Foreign.
You hated that it felt good.
You hated that he understood you in a way no one else had bothered to.
You hated that he leaned closer, voice lowering.
“And I kind of like being someone you can’t scare.”
Your pulse went wild.
Beomgyu noticed.
Of course he noticed.
He smirked — slow, victorious, devastating.
“Knew it,” he whispered.
You pushed his shoulder, flustered beyond belief.
“Shut up.”
He just laughed — softer this time.
Real.
“You wanna keep working?” he asked.
You nodded, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped.
“Good,” he said, nudging your knee with his. “Because I’m not done rizzing you up yet.”
Your eyes widened.
“You’re what—?”
“You heard me.”
You officially hated him.
And you were officially doomed.
𝜗𝜚 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 ៹ @mfcherry @hyunj00 @chocomoas @mayarichives @all-of-kpop @gyuuchuuu @yeosayang @slut4heespam @jaedacore @swangyu @seungluver @ijustwannareadstuff20 @angelhyuka @nanilis @vanillakirstein @kkyubear @minjsui
𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ? 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 !
“𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍” 𝜗℘ 범규.
𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𓈒 bearhybrid!gyu X deerhybrid!reader 1k+ words angst
ᝰ.ᐟ kissing established relationship separation anxiety emotional distress crying hybrid au forced separation seasonal depression mention of medical monitoring
𝜗𝜚 𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ៹ I hope this does well because I’ve been wanting to write hybrid au stuff 💔. So here’s my favorite teddy bear 🐻.
You notice long before he says anything.
The shift is subtle at first — Beomgyu yawning more, curling into blankets earlier, clinging to you longer in the mornings. His appetite grows, his pace slows, and his usual mischief softens into something quieter… gentler.
At first, you think it’s just the cold.
Bears love warmth.
Bears love cuddling.
Bears love their partners even more.
But there’s something else beneath it.
Something heavy.
Something sinking.
And every time you ask him, he smiles a little too quickly and says,
“I’m fine. Just sleepy.”
You know better.
You’re a deer hybrid — instincts read emotion like a second language.
And Beomgyu feels… sad.
Tender.
Determined.
And fragile in a way that terrifies you.
The trees turn orange.
The air grows sharp.
And one evening, as you sit on the couch with him curled against your side, his nose buried in your collarbone, he finally whispers:
“I have to go soon.”
Your heart drops.
“Go?” Your voice is small. “Go where?”
He exhales shakily against your skin.
“The hibernation center.”
Everything inside you freezes.
Your species doesn’t hibernate.
You don’t have a cycle that tears you away from people.
You don’t have months of disappearing… months where people miss you.
But bears do.
And your boyfriend is a bear.
You hear yourself ask, barely audible, “When?”
Beomgyu’s fingers tighten in the fabric of your shirt.
“Next week.”
Silence swallows the room whole.
Next week.
You swallow hard, blinking down at him. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
He lifts his head, eyes already glossy.
Those round bear eyes — warm, sleepy brown — look almost guilty.
“I didn’t want you to spend the whole season worrying.”
“I’m already worrying,” you breathe out, voice cracking.
He flinches.
He pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping around you tightly — almost desperately.
“I’m sorry.”
You cling to him without meaning to, fingers curling around the soft fabric of his hoodie. “I don’t— I don’t want you to go.”
“I know.”
His voice is quiet, trembling.
He strokes your hair, his claws carefully retracted so he won’t accidentally scratch.
“Baby, I have to. I won’t survive winter if I don’t.”
You bite hard on your lip.
“I know,” you whisper. “But I hate it.”
He lets out a breath — sad, soft, full of longing.
“I hate it too.”
A few days later, he shows you the hibernation center brochure.
It feels like the death sentence to your winter.
Modern, warm facilities.
Forest-themed rooms.
Medical monitoring.
Temperature control.
No visitors.
Because disturbing hibernation is dangerous.
Because waking them is impossible anyway.
You stare at the glossy page until your eyes blur.
“So that’s it?” Your voice wavers. “You sleep for three or four months and I just… wait?”
Beomgyu shifts closer, thumb brushing your wrist.
“You can send things. Letters. Pictures. The staff will keep them near me.”
“But you’ll be asleep,” you whisper.
“I’ll still feel you around me.”
That’s when your tears spill.
Quietly, painfully.
Beomgyu instantly cups your cheeks, panic flashing in his eyes.
“Don’t cry— don’t— please.”
“I’m trying,” you choke out.
He pulls you into his arms again, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
His scent — warm, earthy, familiar — only makes the ache sharper.
The week passes like slipping sand.
Beomgyu’s voice gets heavier.
His movements slow.
He curls against you constantly, as if he’s trying to brand your warmth into his bones.
Sometimes you wake at night and find him awake too, staring at you like you’re a star he’s trying to memorize before the sky goes dark.
One of those nights, in a whisper barely louder than breath, he says:
“I’m scared to leave you.”
Your heart bends, cracks, shatters. “Why?”
“Because…” He swallows, thick and aching.
“…you’ll be alone for too long.”
You kiss his forehead, breathing shakily into his hair.
“I’ll be okay,” you lie.
He knows you’re lying.
He doesn’t call you out.
He just pulls you closer.
You hate the suitcase on the bed.
You hate the folded clothes.
You hate the list the center sent.
You fold his sweatshirt — the one he wears when he’s cold and sleepy.
He watches you, eyes following your every movement.
“Want me to help?” he asks softly.
“No.”
Your voice breaks.
“I don’t want any of this.”
Beomgyu looks like he’s been stabbed.
He steps behind you, arms wrapping around your waist, chin on your shoulder.
“I’ll come back to you.”
“You won’t even know time is passing,” you whisper, tears dripping onto the fabric you’re folding.
“That doesn’t matter,” he murmurs.
“What matters is that I’ll open my eyes in spring and you’ll be the first person I look for.”
Your shoulders tremble.
Beomgyu presses soft, slow kisses to your neck.
“Tell me you’ll wait.”
“I’ll wait,” you breathe.
Then softer.
“Even if I hate it.”
He holds you tighter.
He doesn’t sleep.
You don’t either.
He lies on top of you, head on your chest, arms around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear before morning.
You run your fingers through his soft bear ears.
He shivers every time — sensitive, emotional.
“You’ll dream of other things,” you whisper.
“Warm caves. Rivers. Forests. Things your body remembers.”
He shakes his head against your chest.
“I only want to dream of you.”
Your breath catches.
Your eyes burn.
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
A shaky laugh leaves you, half broken.
“I’m scared you’ll forget what my voice sounds like.”
He lifts his head, eyes fierce even through the sleepiness.
“Never. I’ll wake up still loving you.”
You cup his face with both hands.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
You kiss him — slow, lingering, aching.
He kisses you back like he’s memorizing the shape of your mouth.
He falls asleep like that.
In your arms.
Breathing shallow.
Body already preparing to shut down.
You cry until morning.
The sky is cold and gray.
The world feels like it’s holding its breath.
You hold his hand all the way to the center.
He leans on you, barely awake.
The staff is gentle — used to this, familiar with the heartbreak.
Beomgyu sways, vision foggy.
Instinct taking over.
“Stay,” he murmurs to you.
Voice slurred, small.
“I’m right here,” you say, clutching his hand.
His eyelids heavy.
His breathing slow.
He manages one last sentence, soft as falling snow:
“Don’t forget me.”
Your heart collapses.
“I won’t,” you choke out. “I could never.”
He tries to lift his hand to your cheek — misses — tries again —
and then he’s gone.
Eyes closed.
Breathing slow.
Body limp.
Asleep for the season.
They guide you gently out of the room.
You keep your eyes forward.
If you look back, you’ll break.
The door closes behind you with a soft click.
And the world suddenly feels too quiet.
Too cold.
Too empty.
Winter has barely begun.
And you’re already missing him like he’s been gone for years.
𝜗𝜚 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 ៹ @mfcherry @hyunj00 @chocomoas @mayarichives @all-of-kpop @gyuuchuuu @yeosayang @slut4heespam @jaedacore @swangyu @seungluver @ijustwannareadstuff20 @angelhyuka @nanilis @vanillakirstein @kkyubear @minjsui
𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ? 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 !
OMGGG I love your writing so much. Dad Taehyun has my heart 🥹💕
He has mine too ☹️🤍. And tysm ily
I missed you
Missed you more 💓
Omgg haiii i miss youuuuuu I LOVEE your writingggg
Hiii ilysm . I hope you’re doing amazing 🫶🏽
see i know tefficient terry is friend taehyun with reader but i need to see them become lovers PLWASE
“𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘” 𝜗℘ 𝐊𝐓𝐇.
𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𓈒 friend!tae X fem!reader 1k+ words fluff
ᝰ.ᐟ kissing friends to lovers jealous tae part 1
𝜗𝜚 𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ៹ Don’t worry, anon, i wanted them to become lovers as well 😝!! You guys see what I did with the title ? Huh ? Do you like it ? Okay, enjoy !! ALSO THANK YOU FOR 400 FOLLOWERS OMGJSJSJWJ WE UP.
The ramen shop is noisy in the best way—clattering chopsticks, sizzling pans, Soobin’s laugh booming across the table as Beomgyu tries to recreate some meme with too much dramatic flair. Huening Kai is halfway through a bowl already, his cheeks stuffed like a hamster as he nods along to Yeonjun’s story.
You’re wedged between Beomgyu and Taehyun, the latter methodically arranging the side dishes like they’re part of a science experiment. You smirk as he rotates the kimchi plate by exactly ninety degrees.
“Tefficient Terry at it again,” you murmur.
He glances at you, brows raising. “Do you really have to call me that?”
“Yes,” you reply, stealing a piece of fish cake before he can protest. “It’s your brand.”
The banter is easy, comfortable. After the argument in the dorm kitchen last week, things between you and Taehyun have been… softer. Like you’re both trying. It feels nice.
Until someone taps your shoulder.
You turn to see a stranger—tall, easy smile, probably a college student too—holding his phone loosely in one hand. “Hey, sorry to bother you,” he says, voice polite but confident. “I just noticed you from across the room. Would you mind if I got your number?”
The table quiets instantly, your friends’ attention zeroing in like vultures. Beomgyu nearly chokes on his broth. Yeonjun whistles under his breath. Huening Kai looks ready to narrate the entire event like a nature documentary.
You blink, caught off guard. “Oh, um…”
Before you can answer, Taehyun shifts beside you. Not much—just straightens up, sets his chopsticks down with a precise clink. His expression is neutral, but you can feel something thrumming under the surface.
“She’s eating,” he says calmly, eyes fixed on the stranger. “Can you maybe wait until after dinner?”
The guy looks a little startled, then chuckles. “Right, of course. My bad. I’ll just—” He gestures toward his phone again. “I’ll wait outside, then?”
Something sharp flashes across Taehyun’s face, gone almost instantly. “Or you could not.” His tone is still maddeningly even, but there’s an edge to it.
The stranger blinks. “…Right. Got it.” He backs off, slipping away into the crowd.
The table is dead silent for two whole seconds. Then Beomgyu explodes.
“OH MY GOD, TAEHYUN!” he cackles, nearly tipping his chair over. “Did you just scare that guy off?!”
Yeonjun slaps the table. “Protective Terry! I never thought I’d see the day.”
Huening Kai muffles a laugh into his sleeve. “You sounded so polite, but it was terrifying.”
Your ears burn. You glance at Taehyun, who calmly picks up his chopsticks again like nothing happened. “You didn’t have to do that,” you murmur.
He doesn’t look at you. “He was interrupting dinner.”
“That’s all?” you press, a little braver now.
His jaw flexes. A beat of silence. Then, quietly: “Not exactly.”
Your heart stumbles. You want to ask what he means, but Yeonjun and Beomgyu are already reenacting the scene dramatically, and the moment slips away.
Later, though, when the group spills out onto the street and the night air is cool against your skin, Taehyun falls into step beside you. His hands are shoved in his pockets, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
“You didn’t want his number, right?” he asks suddenly.
You glance at him. “Why? Would it matter if I did?”
He exhales slowly, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Yes.”
Your chest tightens, warmth spreading through you. For once, Taehyun doesn’t sound efficient or logical. He just sounds honest.
The night air is crisp, neon signs buzzing above as the group lingers on the sidewalk, still full of noodles and bad jokes. Yeonjun jingles his car keys with a grin that screams scheming.
“So,” he says, too casually, “why don’t Kai, Beomgyu, and I ride with me tonight? Soobin too. That way…” His eyes flick toward you and Taehyun, deliberately slow. “…everyone has more space.”
Huening Kai wiggles his brows. “Privacy.”
Beomgyu snorts. “Ooooh, I see you, hyung.”
“Cut it out,” Taehyun says flatly, but his ears betray him, turning a faint shade of pink.
Within minutes, the others pile into Yeonjun’s car, still snickering. You and Taehyun are left standing by his sleek, too-neat sedan. For a moment, neither of you moves. Then, wordlessly, he unlocks it and you slide into the passenger seat.
The drive is quiet at first. The kind of quiet that buzzes, thick with everything unsaid. Streetlights flicker past in a blur, painting his face in alternating bands of shadow and gold. His hands rest on the wheel, steady and sure, but his jaw is tight.
Finally, you break the silence. “You didn’t have to chase that guy off, you know.”
His eyes stay on the road. “I know.”
You frown. “Then why did you?”
For a long moment, the only sound is the hum of the engine. Then, softly, he says, “Because I didn’t like it.”
Your chest stutters. “Didn’t like… what?”
He exhales, a little frustrated, like the words are heavier than he expected. “Didn’t like the way he looked at you. Didn’t like the idea of you giving him your number.” His grip on the wheel tightens, just a fraction. “Didn’t like that it wasn’t me.”
The words hang in the air, thick and startling. Your heartbeat is so loud you’re sure he can hear it.
“Taehyun…” you start, but your throat is dry. “You’ve never—”
“I know,” he cuts in, finally glancing at you. His eyes are sharp, but softer than you’ve ever seen them. Vulnerable. “I’m not great at… saying things. But I’ve felt this for a while. And tonight—seeing him—” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t stay quiet anymore.”
You sit there, stunned. Taehyun, the one who measures everything with precision, who rarely says anything without thinking it through, just confessed like it was the simplest truth in the world.
A laugh bubbles out of you, shaky and disbelieving. “You know, for someone so efficient, you’re really bad at confessing.”
His mouth quirks into the faintest smile. “Probably. But did you get the point?”
Your heart is still racing, but you manage a nod. “Yeah. I got it.”
For the first time all night, the tension eases. The car hums along the quiet road, and you can’t stop smiling. After a beat, you add, “Good thing you chased him off, then. I wouldn’t have given him my number anyway.”
Taehyun’s eyes flick toward you again, just for a second. “No?”
“No,” you say, leaning back against the seat. “Because I already like someone else.”
Silence again—but this time it feels different. Warmer. Charged. His fingers tap the wheel once, twice, then still. “Good,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
The rest of the ride passes in comfortable quiet, the kind that feels like something new has shifted between you. When he pulls up to the dorm, he finally turns fully to face you, expression steady but eyes searching.
“Can I take you out sometime? Just us?”
Your lips curve into a smile you can’t fight. “Yeah, Taehyun. I’d like that.”
His exhale is quiet, relieved. Efficient, even. But when his hand brushes yours on the console, it’s not efficient at all—it’s clumsy, hesitant, human. And perfect.
You don’t move at first. Neither does he. The air between you is tight with possibility, your pulse in your ears louder than the engine. Then, slowly, Taehyun leans in. Not rushed, not uncertain—just deliberate, like every move has been thought through a hundred times.
His lips touch yours gently, almost testing, as if he’s giving you a chance to pull away. But you don’t. You tilt forward, pressing back, and that’s all it takes for him to close the distance fully.
It’s not dramatic—no fireworks, no sweeping gestures. Just soft warmth, steady and careful. But it’s enough to make your chest ache, your fingers curling against the seat.
When he finally pulls back, he stays close, his forehead nearly resting against yours. His voice is low, almost a whisper.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
You smile, heart racing. “Then what took you so long, Terry?”
He lets out the faintest laugh, shaking his head. “Guess I was waiting for the most efficient moment.”
You roll your eyes, but your grin won’t fade. “Well, you found it.”
𝜗𝜚 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 ៹ @bambiihee @mfcherry @hyunj00 @apclipsie @tyunningism
𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ? 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 !
Hi darling!! I’m so happy to see your back :)) I hope you’re doing better <3
Thank you ! Hope you’re well <3
Tumblr thinks it’s funny… “In your orbit” and it’s literally people I have blocked 😭😭 why you recommending me ts ? And I dislike that you can see blocked people’s posts if someone else reblogs it, so I block anyone who interacts with them at all .
ur back!!
Just a little bit. I don’t even have the app.
Single’s inferno 5 is sooo insane I can’t take this 😭. I’ve loved this show since season 1, so I’m glad we have a good season like this, because 4 was kinda boring to me ngl…
I should have grown up in the early 2000s. It was much easier to make friends and have real connections. Now, everyone is very fake and they hide behind screens. Or they just don’t put the time and effort into a friendship like I do.
Tumblr is such a lonely app, then I remember the silkies 💓. There’s no one better on this app than you guys. Tysm for 700. It’s insane that I reached that while being away from Tumblr. I will do my best to keep sharing my creativity with the silkies. I love you guys a lot 🫶🏽.
Working on so many ideas for you, Silkies, my goodness… it’s been very hard for me though so pls be patient (Ik my Silkies are 🤍). My mind is scrambled atm, to be honest ! But I still want to see things through, so I’m a bit excited .
“𝐍𝐨 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐫. 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐊𝐚𝐢” 𝜗℘ 𝐇𝐊.
𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𓈒 coworker!kai X fem!reader 16k+ words fluff / suggestive / humor
ᝰ.ᐟ kissing skinship language mutual pining slow burn cuddling workplace teasing spicy tension semi-explicit make out
𝜗𝜚 𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ៹ Kai must hide his wings very well, cause he's genuinely an angel. I always imagine him as a kindergarten teacher cause he’s so sweet. I want to write longer fics like this, but that'd mean posting even less than I already do. Quality over quantity though !! This is my first time asking, but please feel free to comment, dm, or send an ask with writing advice, tips, suggestions, and feedback !! I’d really appreciate it. This is something I love doing and I’d hate to disappoint anyone with my writing, but I am still growing. Thank you 😊🤍. ALSO I know Hyuka isn’t easily scared- it was for the plot, ok ??
The first thing you learned about being a kindergarten teacher was that no matter how much you planned, no matter how many Pinterest-worthy classroom boards you put up, no matter how many sharpened pencils were lined up like little soldiers— the kids would always find a way to overthrow your regime.
Today was no exception.
You were crouched beside a five-year-old who was explaining, with alarming seriousness, why he believed dinosaurs still lived in the sewers when the sound of pure chaos came flooding in from the classroom next door.
Kai’s classroom.
A thud. Then a squeal. Then the distinct rip of construction paper being sacrificed to the void.
You sighed. “…Okay, but I don’t think a T-Rex could fit in a sewer, buddy.”
The boy squinted at you like you just didn’t get it. “Not a T-Rex. A velociraptor. Smaller.”
“Right,” you said, standing up. “My bad.”
And with that, you did what you’d been forced to do almost every day since the semester started: peek into Kai’s classroom to make sure he wasn’t being eaten alive by his students.
When you opened the door, you were hit with the sight of Kai—tall, handsome, entirely too gentle for his own good—being buried alive under a mountain of glitter.
Literally.
There was a girl on his back trying to braid his hair with pipe cleaners. A boy was standing on a chair beside him, proudly holding up Kai’s confiscated whistle like it was Excalibur. Half the class was sitting crisscross on the rug, coloring on the actual rug, and the other half was—well, you didn’t know where they were. That was concerning.
“Kai,” you said flatly.
He looked up at you with his soft, deer-like eyes. He had paint on his cheek and the warmest, most helpless smile. “Hey, Y/N,” he said like this was all perfectly normal.
You crossed your arms. “What happened?”
“They… uh…” He glanced at the girl still braiding his hair. “Got excited about arts and crafts?”
“Excited?” You raised an eyebrow. “It looks like they started a coup.”
The boy with the whistle blew it so loud you actually flinched. Kai clapped his hands weakly. “Okay, friends, inside voices—”
“NO!” half the kids screamed at once, like some kind of cult.
You pinched the bridge of your nose. This was going to give you gray hairs before twenty-five.
“Kai,” you said slowly, “you know they’re supposed to be in circle time right now.”
“They said they weren’t really feeling circle time,” he admitted, still smiling like it was fine. “And I didn’t want to—”
“Traumatize them by saying no?” you guessed.
He winced. “…Maybe.”
You exhaled. “Okay. Step aside.”
Within five minutes, you had the classroom back under control. The girl surrendered her pipe cleaner salon appointment. The whistle was returned to its rightful place. The kids were seated on the rug, whispering and fidgeting, but at least vaguely resembling order.
You stood at the front with your best teacher voice: “Alright, everyone, eyes on me.”
Twenty-four pairs of eyes blinked up at you. Kai sat on a tiny chair in the corner like one of the kids, looking vaguely impressed.
“Today,” you continued, “we’re going to do circle time. And do you know what happens if we don’t listen during circle time?”
A chorus of tiny voices: “What?”
You smiled sweetly. “We don’t get to play with the parachute at recess.”
The kids gasped like you’d threatened to burn down Disneyland.
And just like that—silence.
You dusted your hands off. “Good. Let’s begin.”
After circle time (which, miraculously, ended with everyone still seated and relatively quiet), you and Kai found yourselves in the teachers’ lounge. He was leaning against the counter, sipping chocolate milk from a carton like a giant elementary schooler himself.
You dropped into the chair across from him. “You’re a pushover.”
Kai almost choked on his milk. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” You jabbed a finger at him. “Those kids run your class. You don’t run your class.”
He blinked at you, lips curving into that soft, sheepish smile. “They’re just… energetic.”
“They’re feral,” you corrected. “They were about two seconds away from unionizing and demanding snack time every hour.”
Kai laughed, shoulders shaking. “Okay, yeah, maybe they’re a little wild.”
“A little?” You leaned forward. “Kai, they don’t listen to you at all. You need to be more strict.”
He scrunched his nose. “But if I’m too strict, they’ll think I’m mean. I don’t want to be the scary teacher.”
“You won’t be scary. You’ll be… authoritative.” You made a dramatic hand gesture. “It’s about balance. Kind but firm.”
“Kind but firm,” he repeated like he was trying the words on for size. “That sounds… hard.”
You smirked. “Lucky for you, you’ve got me.”
He tilted his head. “…What does that mean?”
“It means,” you said, grinning, “I’m going to teach you how to not get steamrolled by a bunch of five-year-olds.”
Kai’s eyes widened slightly. “You’re going to… coach me?”
“Exactly.” You pointed at him like a drill sergeant. “Operation: No More Mr. Nice Kai begins tomorrow.”
He laughed again, soft and bright, and for a moment you were too aware of how pretty his smile was. He set down his milk carton and leaned closer across the table.
“…And if I fail?” he asked, eyes glittering with mischief.
You smirked right back. “Then I get to say ‘I told you so’ for the rest of the semester.”
Kai groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “What did I get myself into?”
“Free lessons in classroom management,” you said cheerfully. “And maybe… a little tough love.”
He muttered under his breath, “Emphasis on tough.”
But when you caught his eye, he was smiling again.
The bell rang, echoing through the hall, and footsteps thundered as kids poured out to recess. You grabbed your jacket and followed Kai out of the lounge.
The hallway was chaos, as always. Beomgyu was leaning against the doorframe of his second grade class, holding a stack of graded papers and grinning like he owned the place.
“Well, well,” he called, spotting the two of you. “If it isn’t our kindergarten lovebirds.”
You nearly tripped over your own feet. “We’re not—”
Kai flushed bright pink. “Beomgyu—”
Beomgyu waggled his eyebrows. “Sure you’re not. Totally believable. Completely.” He turned toward his classroom, shouting over his shoulder, “Soobin! Yeonjun! Guess who’s finally dating—”
You lunged forward. “We’re not dating!”
Soobin and Yeonjun appeared in the hallway like they’d been summoned. Soobin blinked down at you, looking confused but curious. Yeonjun grinned like Christmas had come early.
“Ohhh,” Yeonjun drawled. “This is interesting.”
Kai groaned into his hands. “Please no.”
Soobin tilted his head. “Wait. Are you?”
“NO!” you and Kai said in unison, which only made Beomgyu burst out laughing.
“Classic denial,” he snorted. “This is sitcom gold.”
Yeonjun slung an arm around Kai’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, buddy. We’ll make sure your love story gets the proper spotlight.”
Kai looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. You, on the other hand, were considering homicide.
“Don’t you all have children to supervise?” you snapped.
Beomgyu smirked. “Don’t you have a crush to confess?”
You threw your jacket over his face and stormed down the hall before he could say anything else.
Behind you, Kai jogged to catch up, still pink but smiling faintly.
“…Sorry about them,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
You sighed, though you couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at your lips. “It’s fine. They’re idiots.”
He glanced sideways at you. “But… maybe not entirely wrong?”
You froze mid-step. “What?”
Kai’s cheeks flushed deeper. “I mean—uh—about me needing help in class.” He gave you a nervous laugh. “Not the other part.”
You blinked, heart doing a weird skip. “…Right. Of course.”
But for the rest of recess, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d hesitated before clarifying. ⸻
The next morning, you entered school with the grim determination of someone about to train a very tall golden retriever how to stop getting walked by five-year-olds.
Kai, of course, greeted you in the hallway with his usual sunshine smile and a cup of hot chocolate balanced precariously in one hand.
“Morning, Y/N,” he said cheerfully.
“Morning,” you replied, narrowing your eyes at him. “Ready for training?”
He blinked. “Training?”
“Yes. Training.” You crossed your arms. “Do you think Jedi just woke up one morning and were magically good at lightsabers?”
“…That’s not really the same thing,” he said, trying not to laugh.
“Don’t argue with me, Skywalker,” you shot back. “This is day one of Operation: No More Mr. Nice Kai.”
Kai chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
You dragged him into your classroom before his kids arrived. Desks pushed aside, a couple of plushies acting as “students,” and you standing at the front like a commander briefing their soldier.
“Alright, here’s the deal,” you said. “I’ll be one of your kids. You have to practice telling me no.”
Kai raised an eyebrow. “That’s… it?”
“Sounds easy, right?” You grinned. “It’s not.”
You plopped onto the rug, raised your hand, and put on your best “innocent five-year-old” face.
“Mr. Huening?” you chirped in a high voice. “Can I have three more snacks even though I already ate mine and stole Lily’s too?”
Kai hesitated. “Uh… snacks are only for snack time.”
“BUT I’M HUNGRY!” you wailed dramatically, stomping your feet.
His lips twitched, like he wanted to laugh. “You… can wait until lunch.”
You gasped like he’d betrayed you. “You’re so MEAN!” You fake-sobbed, throwing yourself onto the rug.
Kai’s eyes widened in panic. “No, no, I’m not mean! Please don’t cry—”
You stopped mid-wail, sat up, and pointed at him. “Wrong. That’s exactly how you lose.”
He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “This is impossible.”
“Again,” you said firmly.
Twenty minutes later, Kai was red in the face from laughter and frustration while you lay on the rug in a dramatic heap, playing your seventh role as “Problem Child.”
“Mr. Huening,” you whined, “can I use thirty markers at once? And also scissors? And also set the hamster free?”
Kai pinched the bridge of his nose. “…No. Absolutely not.”
You perked up. “But whyyy?”
“Because—” He sat up straighter, puffing out his chest a little. “Markers are for drawing, scissors are for cutting paper only, and hamsters are for staying in their cage.”
You blinked. “…That was actually good.”
“Really?” he asked, looking like a puppy waiting for praise.
“Yes,” you said slowly, nodding. “You… sounded almost like a real teacher.”
Kai pressed a hand over his heart. “Wow. My first compliment.”
“Don’t get used to it,” you teased.
Of course, all the roleplay in the world couldn’t prepare him for real children.
By mid-morning, you peeked into his classroom during reading time to see how he was holding up. At first, it actually looked… calm. Kids sitting with picture books, Kai gently reminding them to use “library voices.”
You almost felt proud.
Then you heard it.
“Mr. Huening! He’s EATING the book!”
Your head whipped around. Sure enough, one of his students was chewing on the corner of Green Eggs and Ham like it was a Pop-Tart.
Kai froze. “Um—hey, buddy, books aren’t for eating—”
The boy giggled with his mouth full of paper. “But I’m hungry!”
Kai’s panic face was back. You could practically hear the dramatic sitcom sound effect.
You stepped into the room, crossed your arms, and mouthed: Do it. Say no.
Kai swallowed nervously, then crouched down to the kid’s level. “…No. You can’t eat books.”
The boy pouted.
“You’ll get a snack later,” Kai added, voice steadier this time. “But right now, books are for reading. Not eating.”
To your surprise, the kid spat out the paper scrap, shrugged, and went back to reading like nothing happened.
Kai looked up at you in shock, eyes wide.
You mouthed: See?
For a second, you swore his grin was almost… proud.
⸻
At lunch, you sat across from him again in the lounge. Taehyun, Beomgyu, Soobin, and Yeonjun were already there, eating like it was a sitcom live audience waiting for the next punchline.
“So?” you asked Kai, sipping your juice box. “How’d it feel?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling shyly. “Honestly… kind of good. I didn’t think it would work.”
“It worked because you actually sounded like you meant it,” you said, pointing a carrot stick at him. “Confidence is half the battle.”
Beomgyu leaned in. “What battle are we talking about? Did Kai finally win against his tiny army?”
Kai groaned. “Don’t start—”
Yeonjun gasped dramatically. “Wait, is this about the training program?”
Soobin blinked. “Training program?”
You tried to wave it off. “It’s nothing—”
“Y/N’s teaching me to be stricter,” Kai admitted sheepishly.
The four other teachers exchanged looks like this was the best entertainment they’d had all semester.
Beomgyu slapped the table. “Oh my god. This is a rom-com.”
Yeonjun pointed at Kai. “She’s your drill sergeant, you’re her hopeless trainee—”
Soobin added, “Next episode: they fall in love.”
Taehyun couldn’t be bothered to comment, but his face said it all.
Your face went hot. “We are NOT in a rom-com!”
Kai, equally red, muttered, “Please stop narrating our lives.”
Beomgyu grinned. “Can’t stop, won’t stop.”
⸻
That afternoon, you and Kai were both on recess duty. The kids were running wild across the playground, and you stood by the slide while Kai manned the swings.
You noticed, with a little smile, that he was actually being firmer—counting turns, reminding kids to wait patiently, even telling one to stop digging a hole that was starting to look suspiciously like an escape tunnel.
When you walked over, he flashed you a grin. “How am I doing, coach?”
You smirked. “Not bad, rookie. I’d give you a solid B+.”
“B+? After all that?” He clutched his chest dramatically. “You’re a tough grader.”
Before you could reply, one of the kids on the swings shouted loud enough for half the playground to hear:
“MR. HUENING, DO YOU LIKE MS. Y/N?”
You froze.
Kai’s face went crimson. “W-What?!”
The kid pumped his legs higher. “Because you smile like THIS when she’s here!” He made the goofiest lovestruck face you’d ever seen, tongue sticking out for dramatic effect.
The rest of the kids giggled, chanting, “Mr. Huening likes Ms. Y/N! Mr. Huening likes Ms. Y/N!”
You buried your face in your hands. Kai looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.
“I swear I didn’t tell them that!” he sputtered.
You peeked at him through your fingers, unable to stop laughing. “Oh my god, you’re so doomed.”
His groan was drowned out by the chant echoing across the playground.
And that was the beginning of Kai’s reputation among the student body: not just the nice teacher, but the teacher with a crush.
For the rest of the day, you caught him sneaking glances at you every so often, his ears still pink.
And, maybe, just maybe—you didn’t mind. ⸻
The teachers’ lounge was never quiet.
You’d learned quickly that lunchtime wasn’t so much a break as it was an episode of reality TV: Yeonjun dramatizing his morning like he was auditioning for a telenovela, Beomgyu providing background commentary, Soobin sighing into his sandwich like a weary sitcom dad, and Taehyun… well, Taehyun usually sat in the corner judging everyone with razor-sharp one-liners.
Today, however, you barely made it through the door before Yeonjun zeroed in on you and Kai like a heat-seeking missile.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the star-crossed duo,” he purred, leaning against the counter with his coffee. “How was playground duty yesterday? I heard there was… chanting.”
Kai nearly tripped over a chair. “Y-You heard about that?”
Beomgyu smirked. “The whole school heard about that. Kindergarteners are basically gossip columnists with juice boxes.”
You shot them both a glare. “Don’t you two have lives?”
“Nope,” Beomgyu said cheerfully.
“Not when there’s free entertainment like this,” Yeonjun added.
Kai sank into a chair, burying his face in his hands. His ears were pink already. You sat beside him, patting his back. “Don’t worry. They’ll get bored eventually.”
Yeonjun tilted his head. “Or they’ll keep chanting until you two cave and start dating for real.”
Kai choked on his chocolate milk.
In an attempt to steer the conversation away, Soobin decided to heat up his leftovers. Unfortunately, Soobin was cursed with the motor skills of a newborn giraffe.
One second he was walking back to the table, the next—splat.
His entire container of spaghetti tipped forward, directly onto Kai’s lap.
The whole room froze.
Kai sat stiffly in his chair, noodles sliding tragically down his khakis. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open, like his brain had left his body.
“Oh my GOD,” Soobin gasped, horrified. “Kai, I’m so sorry—”
Yeonjun cackled so loudly he almost fell over. Beomgyu was already pulling out his phone.
You shot up. “Don’t even think about taking a picture!” you snapped at Beomgyu.
He pouted. “But it’s historical documentation!”
Ignoring him, you grabbed a stack of napkins and crouched beside Kai, dabbing frantically at his thighs.
“Stay still,” you ordered, patting at the sauce stains.
Kai’s whole body went rigid. “…Y-Y/N—”
“Shh. I’ve got it.” You were leaning in close now, focused on blotting the mess. You didn’t notice the way his breath hitched every time your fingers brushed against his leg.
The room had gone suspiciously quiet. When you glanced up, Yeonjun and Beomgyu were staring at you with identical smirks, and even Taehyun was raising an eyebrow from his corner.
That’s when you realized how this looked.
You froze, still kneeling between Kai’s knees with your hand dangerously high on his thigh, both of you flushed to your ears.
“…I’ll, uh—go get water,” you stammered, springing to your feet like the floor was on fire.
Behind you, Beomgyu whispered (not quietly at all), “That was the most action Kai’s gotten in his life.”
Kai groaned into his hands again.
⸻
Later that afternoon, you and Kai found yourselves alone in the lounge. You’d both lingered after everyone else left—him to finish grading, you to fix a bulletin board project.
You were reaching for a stack of construction paper on the top shelf when you realized, too late, that you were too short.
Your fingers brushed the edge uselessly. You huffed in frustration.
“Need help?”
You looked back to see Kai standing behind you, smiling.
“I’ve got it,” you insisted, stretching onto your tiptoes. The paper wobbled, teetered, and then—
Kai stepped forward, pressing in close behind you, and plucked the stack effortlessly from the shelf.
Your breath caught. You hadn’t realized just how tall he was until he was right there, chest nearly brushing your back, warmth radiating off him.
He handed you the paper, eyes sparkling with amusement. “There.”
“…Thanks,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.
But when you tried to move away, you realized you were stuck. Literally.
Kai had shifted closer without realizing, and now the counter was in front of you while his arm was braced against the shelf, boxing you in.
Your heart raced. You could feel his breath near your ear, soft and hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should step back.
“Uh,” you said weakly. “You’re… kinda blocking me.”
Kai blinked, startled, and immediately jumped back, ears flaming red. “S-Sorry! I didn’t mean—“
You laughed nervously, clutching the paper to your chest. “It’s fine. Really.”
But the air between you still buzzed, charged with something unspoken.
The next morning, Taehyun cornered you in the hallway like a prosecutor with damning evidence.
“You like him,” he said flatly.
You nearly dropped your stack of worksheets. “Excuse me?”
Kai appeared down the hall, fumbling with a pile of finger paints. The moment you looked at him, Taehyun smirked.
“See? That face. That’s the face of someone in denial.”
“I am not—”
“Yes, you are.” He crossed his arms. “And for the record, he likes you back. Painfully obvious.”
You sputtered. “He—what?”
“Trust me,” Taehyun said, deadpan. “I sit next to him during planning periods. He sighs your name like a middle schooler with a crush.”
Your face burst into flames. “He does not—”
Kai, noticing you both, waved from down the hall. “Y/N! Do you have more glue sticks?”
Taehyun smirked. “Yep. Definitely sighs.”
You wanted to sink into the linoleum.
⸻
By the end of the week, the staff room was buzzing again. Yeonjun, always the ringleader of chaos, was plotting a “staff bonding movie night.”
“Think about it,” he said, leaning dramatically over the table. “Snacks. Laughter. Friendship. And maybe a little romance.” His eyes flicked between you and Kai.
Kai choked on his juice box.
“Absolutely not,” you said.
“Absolutely yes,” Beomgyu countered. “This is fate.”
Soobin sighed. “As long as we don’t watch something scary. I don’t do scary.”
“Perfect,” Yeonjun declared. “Scary movie marathon it is.”
Soobin groaned into his sandwich.
But your stomach dropped for a different reason—because the thought of sitting in a dark room next to Kai, close enough to feel the warmth of his arm, sent your heart racing in ways you weren’t ready to admit.
And just like that, the next step in Operation: No More Mr. Nice Kai wasn’t about classroom management at all.
It was about surviving movie night… without completely giving yourself away. ⸻
Parent-teacher conferences were the worst part of the job.
You loved teaching, you loved your kids, you even loved the smell of fresh crayons in the morning—but sitting across from parents who wanted to know why their child had bitten three classmates in a single week? Not so fun.
By mid-afternoon, you were running on fumes. One dad had asked if he could “just take the class hamster home permanently because his kid liked it,” and another mom had demanded to know why her daughter wasn’t already reading War and Peace at age five.
Across the hall, Kai was faring no better. You caught glimpses of him through his door between sessions—smiling nervously, nodding too much, clutching his notes like they were a lifeline.
At one point, he mouthed to you through the crack in his door: help.
You mouthed back: be firm.
He made a face like a kid who’d just been told to eat his vegetables.
By the end of the evening, you collapsed into a chair in the staff lounge, your head hitting the table. “If one more parent tells me their child is ‘gifted’ because he can count to twenty,” you groaned, “I’m quitting to become a barista.”
Kai sank into the chair beside you, equally exhausted. “At least they didn’t ask you if glitter consumption is dangerous.”
You lifted your head. “…Someone asked you that?”
He nodded solemnly. “Three times.”
Despite your exhaustion, you burst out laughing. His smile softened as he watched you, the stress lines easing from his face.
“Hey,” he said gently, “you were amazing today. I heard you with that mom who wanted her kid to skip kindergarten—smoothest ‘no’ I’ve ever heard.”
You smirked. “Thanks. And you—” you poked his arm “—actually said no three times without apologizing.”
He gasped dramatically. “You were counting?”
“Of course,” you teased. “I’m your coach, remember?”
He grinned, eyes warm. “Best coach I’ve ever had.”
And suddenly, the exhaustion didn’t feel so heavy.
⸻
By some miracle, Yeonjun had actually managed to organize the infamous staff bonding movie night. He and Beomgyu had turned the lounge into a makeshift theater—blanket piles on the floor, a projector balanced on a stack of textbooks, and enough snacks to feed an entire marching band.
Soobin sat stiffly in the corner with his arms crossed. “I’m not watching anything with ghosts.”
“It’s not ghosts,” Yeonjun said smoothly. “It’s just… spirits.”
Soobin glared.
Taehyun rolled his eyes, settling onto a beanbag. “This is going to be stupid.”
You arrived with Kai, both of you still in work clothes, and immediately regretted not bringing pajamas like Beomgyu had. He was lounging in sweats like he lived there.
“Front row seats!” Yeonjun called, patting the blanket beside him.
But somehow, you and Kai ended up tucked into a corner of the couch, sharing a blanket someone had tossed over. Probably Soobin’s. Neither of you dared question it.
It started fine. Cheesy jump scares, predictable suspense music—you rolled your eyes at most of it.
But Kai?
Kai was a wreck.
Every time the music built, his grip on the blanket tightened. When the first jump scare hit, he yelped loud enough to make Beomgyu choke on his popcorn.
You tried not to laugh. “Are you seriously scared right now?”
He glared, cheeks pink. “It’s loud!”
“Uh-huh.” You smirked. “Want me to hold your hand?”
You meant it as a joke. Mostly.
But Kai went even redder, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “…Maybe.”
Your heart skipped.
So you slipped your hand into his. Warm. Big. Slightly sweaty.
He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for hours.
Yeonjun noticed instantly. His grin was evil. But for once, he didn’t say anything—just whispered something to Beomgyu, who snickered.
You ignored them, focusing on the movie. Or trying to.
Because halfway through, another scare hit—this time a genuinely creepy one—and Kai flinched so hard he practically lunged toward you.
The next thing you knew, he was half-curled into your side, arm brushing yours, face buried against your shoulder.
The room erupted in laughter.
“Oh my god,” Beomgyu wheezed. “The kindergarten teacher needs a babysitter.”
“Shhh,” Yeonjun hissed gleefully. “This is romance!”
You ignored them, frozen in place, your pulse racing. Slowly, you adjusted the blanket so it covered both of you more snugly.
Kai peeked up at you, embarrassed. “Sorry…”
You smiled softly. “It’s okay.”
And for the rest of the movie, he stayed close.
⸻
When the credits finally rolled, Soobin bolted upright. “That’s it. I’m sleeping with the lights on tonight.”
Taehyun shook his head. “You’re hopeless.”
Yeonjun was already plotting. “Next time, rom-com marathon. For research purposes.”
“Research my ass,” Beomgyu muttered.
You stood, stretching, but Kai lingered by your side, still flushed. When the others drifted out, he tugged at your sleeve.
“Hey,” he said softly.
You turned. “…Yeah?”
His eyes searched yours, hesitant but full of something that made your chest ache. “Thanks. For… y’know. Not making fun of me.”
You smiled, teasing lightly. “Who says I won’t tomorrow?”
He laughed, then grew quieter, more serious. “…Still. You make things feel… easier.”
The way he said it made your stomach flip.
You swallowed, suddenly shy. “…You’re doing better than you think, Kai.”
For a moment, the air between you felt charged again, like in the lounge yesterday. Close enough that you thought—maybe—
“Y/N! You coming?” Yeonjun’s voice echoed from the hall.
You jumped back, breaking the moment. Kai scratched the back of his neck, ears red.
“…See you tomorrow,” he said softly.
“Yeah,” you murmured. “See you.”
And as you walked out, you couldn’t stop smiling.
⸻
The kindergarten hallway was louder than usual.
End-of-year energy had officially hit, and the kids were buzzing like soda cans shaken one too many times. Even your usually calm class had been bouncing off the walls all day, and from the noise spilling out of Kai’s room, his kids weren’t any better.
You poked your head in just in time to see a boy standing on Kai’s desk, waving a glue stick like a sword.
Kai’s jaw clenched. For once, instead of laughing nervously or pleading, he straightened up, voice steady.
“Down. Now.”
The kid froze.
Kai’s tone wasn’t harsh, but it left no room for argument. Slowly, the boy stepped off the desk. The rest of the class quieted too, watching their sweet teacher suddenly radiate authority.
You blinked in surprise.
He’d… actually done it.
Kai glanced up at you, the faintest grin tugging at his lips, like he knew you’d seen.
And for the first time all year, the chaos in his room simmered down—not because the kids walked all over him, but because they’d finally listened.
By the time dismissal rolled around, you were exhausted. You stayed late to tidy your room, but when you stepped into the hall, most of the teachers were already gone. The place was quiet, the kind of quiet that only happened after hours.
Except—Kai’s door was still cracked open, light spilling out.
Curious, you peeked in. He was at his desk, head in his hands, stacks of construction paper around him. His tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up, hair a little messy from the long day.
And god help you, he looked unfairly good like that.
“You survived,” you teased, stepping inside.
His head lifted, and when he smiled at you, it was softer than usual. “Barely.”
You leaned against the doorway. “I saw you earlier. You actually told them no. No apologies, no panic. Just… firm.”
He ducked his head, shy but proud. “Guess I learned from the best.”
The way he said it—quiet, almost reverent—made warmth flood your chest.
You stepped closer. “I’m proud of you, Kai.”
He looked up, eyes locking on yours, and something shifted in the air.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched, heavy with everything unsaid over the past months—every teasing smile, every lingering glance, every brush of hands.
Kai stood, rounding the desk until he was in front of you. He hesitated, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him.
“Y/N…” His voice was low, uncertain. “Can I—can I be honest with you?”
Your pulse quickened. “…Always.”
He exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been trying to say this for weeks, but I—I’m terrible with words. And you…” His eyes flicked over your face, soft and desperate all at once. “You make it so hard to keep it in.”
You swallowed. “Keep what in?”
He leaned in just slightly, his breath brushing your cheek. “…How much I want you.”
The words hit you like a spark to kindling.
Before you could overthink, you grabbed his tie, pulling him down into a kiss.
It wasn’t soft. It was months of tension, of sidelong glances and stolen moments, crashing into each other at once. He kissed you back instantly, hands finding your waist, pulling you flush against him.
You stumbled backward, hitting the edge of his desk. Papers slid to the floor as he lifted you onto it, stepping between your knees.
“Kai—” you gasped against his lips, breathless.
He pressed his forehead to yours, voice low and rough. “Tell me to stop if this is too much.”
You shook your head, tugging him closer by his shirt. “Don’t you dare stop.”
That was all he needed. His mouth found yours again, hungrier this time, hands splayed against your hips like he couldn’t bear to let go. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling a soft groan from his throat that made heat curl in your stomach.
The desk creaked beneath you as he deepened the kiss, tilting your chin up, tasting every shaky breath you gave him.
For once, Kai wasn’t shy or hesitant. He was sure, steady—finally letting go.
And you realized with a rush that maybe this was what you’d been waiting for all along.
Eventually, you pulled back just enough to breathe, both of you flushed, lips swollen, hearts racing.
Kai cupped your cheek gently, thumb brushing your skin. His eyes were earnest, vulnerable.
“I meant it,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted this. You. For so long.”
Your chest tightened, overflowing with something that felt dangerously close to joy.
“I’ve wanted you too,” you admitted softly.
His smile broke across his face, pure and unguarded, and he kissed you again—slower this time, tender, like he couldn’t believe you were real.
And in that quiet, empty classroom, surrounded by crayons and finger paints and the faint smell of glue sticks, Huening Kai finally stopped being the pushover teacher.
He was yours.
𝜗𝜚 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 ៹ @myhomesoob @beomluvverse @hyunj00 @ayoitsyagirlx @kaisdefender @tyunningism @pengningie @yolkrice @johnduh127 @hanjisrightearwax @giogiobb @sapphicfujo @mintyloveshuyka @chbq2 @auxtmn @sanscupid @bambiihee
Just read this again . I ate down with this ugh .
need a soft Soobin X reader where reader keeps trying to confess to soobin but he's just so oblivious, the only way he gets it is when reader uses a LoL couple as her final pick up line
"will you be the Rakan to my Xayah???"
"??? YOU WANT TO BE MY GIRLFRIEND??"
"THATS WHAT IVE BEEN TRYING TO SAY THIS ENTIRE WEEK"
“𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒” 𝜗℘ 𝐂𝐒𝐁.
𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𓈒 oblivious!sb X fem!reader 1k+ words fluff
ᝰ.ᐟ just sb not getting the hints skinship corny idk
𝜗𝜚 𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ៹ Had to do my research for this one cause i have never touched LoL in my life ! Tysm for requesting, anon !! Mwa 🤍. We love gamer soob . Pls lmk if I got any of the terms n stuff wrong- (the reviving was moreso for the cheesy lines to fit)
You used to think that crushes felt like fireworks — sudden, bright, impossible to ignore.
But falling for Choi Soobin felt more like sunrise.
It happened slowly, quietly, the way light creeps through blinds on a lazy morning until the whole room glows and you can’t remember what it looked like before.
It started with small things.
The way he always waited for you outside lecture halls, earbuds dangling around his neck, one hand tucked into his hoodie pocket. The way he texted you “did you eat yet?” after study sessions like some kind of gentle ritual. The way he listened — really listened — whenever you talked, even when you were rambling about random nonsense.
You told yourself it was nothing at first. Just friendship. Just comfort.
But one day, he smiled at you — soft, eyes curving into crescents — and something in your chest fluttered so hard you almost dropped your coffee. That’s when you knew you were in trouble.
It became your little secret.
Between group projects and campus walks, between late-night gaming and bubble tea runs, you found yourself studying the tiny details of him — the way he laughed with his whole body, the way he fiddled with his pen during class, the faint crease on his nose when he smiled too hard.
It was so obvious to you.
Too bad it wasn’t obvious to him.
Soobin, for all his kindness and height and angelic dimples, was painfully oblivious.
He wasn’t stupid — he just existed in this perpetual state of mild distraction, floating through life like a golden retriever who’d never experienced subtlety.
The first time you tried to confess, it wasn’t even planned.
You were waiting in line for drinks at the campus café, his bag slung over your shoulder because he’d run back to grab his wallet. When he finally returned, slightly out of breath and still smiling, you handed him his cup and blurted,
“You make my heart pop… Like the pearls in this… The boba pearls.”
Soobin blinked, tilting his head. “That’s so cute,” he said, sipping from his straw. “You always say the funniest things.”
You stared at him, speechless. “I— yeah. Funny. Totally.”
He grinned, satisfied, and went back to talking about his LoL rank while you stood there wondering how the universe could bless someone with a face that beautiful and a brain that empty.
Over the next few days, your attempts became more deliberate.
A note slipped into his notebook (“you make everything sweeter”).
A text after your study date (“I like you a latte ☕”).
Even giving him your hoodie, not that he could fit it (“it smells like me, so you won’t miss me later”).
Each time, he smiled — genuinely, warmly — and responded with the wrong kind of affection.
“You’re such a good friend.”
“Aw, thanks, you’re the nicest.”
“You always take care of me.”
Friend.
Nice.
Take care.
Every word felt like another soft punch to the ribs.
But still, you couldn’t stop trying. Because he made it so easy to love him, even when it hurt.
The turning point came on a rainy Thursday evening.
You were in his dorm room, half-buried under a blanket, both of you playing League of Legends together. The sound of rain against the window mixed with Soobin’s quiet laughter every time your characters died in spectacular fashion.
“Okay, but you have to admit,” he said between laughs, “that was the worst ult timing I’ve ever seen.”
You threw a pillow at him. “You distracted me!”
“I literally said, ‘don’t engage yet!’”
“You smiled! How am I supposed to focus when you do that?”
He blinked, surprised, then chuckled. “I didn’t realize my face was that powerful.”
“It is..” you muttered, but your voice came out softer than intended.
He didn’t hear. Or maybe he did and pretended not to. That was the thing with Soobin — he never noticed the weight behind your words, but part of you wondered if maybe that’s what made him so easy to be around.
No pressure. No expectations. Just… him.
It was around midnight when the power flickered.
The rain had turned heavier, and thunder rumbled in the distance. The Wi-Fi died mid-game, leaving your characters frozen on screen.
Soobin sighed dramatically. “Guess that’s the universe telling me to stop feeding.”
You laughed, curling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “It’s telling you to get better at aiming, maybe.”
“Hey,” he said, feigning offense, “I’m a great Rakan.”
“Sure,” you teased. “If dying in every team fight counts as ‘great.’”
He leaned back in his chair, smiling at you through the dim light. “Then what does that make you, huh?”
“Better,” you said simply. “Carrying you since day one.”
He laughed, a soft, deep sound that filled the little room. You tried not to stare at the way his hair fell over his forehead or how the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled.
He had no idea that every moment with him felt like the calm before something inevitable.
The room grew quieter after that. Just rain, and the low hum of your heart doing cartwheels.
“Soobin,” you said suddenly.
“Hm?”
You hesitated. The words hovered at the tip of your tongue, too big to swallow but too terrifying to release.
You’d failed a dozen times already, and yet here you were, ready to try again — not because you thought it would work this time, but because you couldn’t keep it in anymore.
You wanted him to know. Even if he didn’t feel the same.
You took a breath, fingers fidgeting with the blanket’s edge.
“If I said something kind of weird, would you promise not to laugh?”
He turned to look at you, earnest and curious. “Of course. Why would I laugh?”
Your throat felt tight. “Because it’s… sort of dorky.”
He smiled, gentle as always. “That’s okay. You’re sort of dorky.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your nerves. “Okay, then.”
You looked straight at him, your heart hammering like a drum, and said,
“Will you be the Rakan to my Xayah?”
For a second, he didn’t react. His eyes flicked between you and the screen, clearly processing the reference.
Then, slowly: “…Wait.” His brows furrowed. “You mean—”
You felt your face heat up. “Yes, Soobin. That’s what I mean.”
He blinked again, realization dawning like light breaking through clouds. “You— you want to be my girlfriend?”
You buried your face in your hands. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say this entire week, Soobin.”
There was silence. Then a soft, almost disbelieving laugh.
He sounded so genuinely stunned that you couldn’t help peeking through your fingers. His expression was a mix of awe and embarrassment, his cheeks flushed pink.
“I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” he murmured. “All those hints— I thought you were just teasing me.”
“I was teasing you,” you said. “And flirting. And hinting. And practically spelling it out.”
He laughed again, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I’m a little slow sometimes.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes?”
“Okay, a lot of the time,” he admitted. Then, softer: “But if it’s still okay… yeah. I’d like to be your Rakan.”
Your heart fluttered so hard you almost forgot to breathe. “You sure? I’m not exactly a pro gamer, you know.”
He smiled, eyes warm. “That’s fine. I’m not exactly a pro boyfriend yet either.”
Something about the word yet made you grin.
He reached out, hesitated for half a second, then brushed his fingers against yours. The touch was light, tentative — the kind of touch that says I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.
Outside, the rain softened to a drizzle. Inside, the tension melted into something sweet and easy.
You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling him relax beside you.
“So,” you murmured, “does this mean I get to trash talk you in-game without feeling guilty now?”
He chuckled, tilting his head so it rested lightly against yours. “Only if you promise to revive me when I die.”
“Deal,” you said, smiling. “But you better not feed.”
He laughed again, that soft sound that had started it all. “I’ll do my best, Xayah.”
And when the Wi-Fi reconnected and your characters spawned back into the digital battlefield, Soobin hovered over Rakan and locked him in immediately — a quiet promise glowing in the flicker of his monitor light.
Maybe love wasn’t fireworks after all.
Maybe it was something slower — something that started with laughter, with friendship, with a boy who didn’t get the hint until you told him outright.
And maybe that was exactly what made it so perfect.
𝜗𝜚 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 ៹ @mfcherry @hyunj00 @chocomoas @mayarichives @all-of-kpop @gyuuchuuu @yeosayang @slut4heespam @jaedacore @swangyu @seungluver @ijustwannareadstuff20 @angelhyuka @nanilis
𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ? 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 !
Omg. 1K notes. Wow. Thank you, Silkies.