#Would I just be wasting my time that I could be spending on school work?

[nachobsns]

honestly really need to curb my phone addiction and i’ve been looking into dumbphones lately as an alternative for when i’m out and about and like. say what you will about brand consumerism but i am a simple man and the barbie phone is calling to me

[daforged]

there’s a lot of things im not enjoying about my life right now but i think the worst one is that i don’t have anything to talk about other than how miserable and tired and unmotivated i am

[cyclicalaberration]

I need to stand out more

[ceilidho]

He’s late for his own trial.

You’ve been standing outside the courthouse for what feels like twenty minutes now, tapping your heel on the ground and checking your watch for the umpteenth time. The two of you are already supposed to be inside the courtroom getting set up and going over the details of his case, but instead of grabbing a coffee at the shop across the street and combing over the case notes, you’ll be pressed to even get a couple hissed whispers out between you two before the judge steps up to the bench. 

You think about calling your client again, but that thought quickly evaporates when the sound of muffled heavy metal rumbles out of the gunmetal sedan that just pulled into the parking lot at around thirty miles an hour. You take a deep breath when he parks, already trying to talk yourself out of the bad mood you’re in.

In the back of your mind, you’re about eighty percent sure that there’s no way you’re leaving today without a guilty conviction. When Johnny steps out of the car, the cheap sunglasses obscuring his eyes do nothing to distract from the way he’s obviously hungover. He’s buttoning up his suit jacket from the middle button as he walks up the stone steps towards you, sliding his sunglasses into the breast pocket. 

“Don’t you look sharp,” you remark dryly when he’s close enough to lock eyes with you. You have to force down a shudder that threatens to ripple down your spine at the cocky grin that spreads over his face. 

You’re obviously being facetious. Johnny’s suit is two sizes too small for him—it looks like the last time he wore it was to his high school graduation and he’s grown at least a foot since then—and his shirt and pants are rumpled like he wore them to bed the night before. The scruff sprouting from his cheeks and chin also supports that notion; he’s still rubbing the sleep out of his eye when he walks up to you.

“‘N’ ye look—I wanna say exquisite, but we should probably keep it professional, huh?” 

He winks down at you and the twinkle in his eye infuriates you as much as it ingratiates you. You didn’t spend nearly ten years working your way through undergrad, law school, and years as a public defender to start preening at the attention of the first cute guy you’ve had to represent in your career. 

“I think we passed ‘professional’ after the seventh pass you made at me.”

“‘N’ it won’t be the last. Anyway, stop wasting time—let’s get this show on the road,” he says, side-stepping around you towards the court doors. “I’m not going to jail because someone wanted to flirt with me before my trial.” 

Your jaw drops. He acts like he isn't in this situation because he was accused of holding up a gas station six months ago. You think he’s about to brush past you until you feel a hand plant itself on the middle of your back and push you forward, making you almost stumble into the courthouse. 

“Anyway, we can pick up this conversation in the bog during the break if yer that hot for it,” he murmurs into your ear before you’re separated and searched upon entering the courthouse. Your cheeks do not—absolutely do not—heat up at his tone of voice. 

You’re right in that the two of you barely have any time to prepare. The prosecution is already set up at their table and even the court reporter and judge’s clerk are already present. You squirm at a side-eye from the other counsel, hurrying Johnny over to your table and spending the next ten minutes with your lips practically pressed against his ear.

All throughout the trial, he leans back in his chair and looks like the picture of a petulant child who’s been dragged along by his parent. If you could sink your head into your palms without immediately losing face in front of the judge, you would; all he had to do—and you’d reminded him this for weeks before the trial—was sit straight and not roll his eyes when the prosecution brought up their witnesses. He can’t even manage that.

Somehow though, miraculously almost—and in your defense, even Johnny looks shocked when the verdict is rendered—he’s not found guilty. You’re still a little shell shocked walking out of the courthouse, the sunlight making you squint and then a cup a hand around your eyes. 

He fits a big hand around your waist when you’re about to part ways with him, pulling you back into his chest. Your head whips up to stare at him, ignoring the clench in your belly when his fingers curl into your flesh and that same smug grin quirks up on his lips.

“Why don’t we go grab a drink to celebrate our win, hen?” he suggests. 

“I don’t grab drinks with clients,” you snap, trying to put some distance between you and him. 

Johnny leans down a bit more, always towering over you, until his face is so close that you almost go cross-eyed. “We dinnae have to go out then. We can just go back to my car. Ah can show you how much ah pure appreciate a’ ye did fer me.”

“I don’t need your thanks, I get paid for this—”

“Baby,” he murmurs, stressing the word out, and the moment suddenly feels cramped and intimate, despite the fact that you’re standing in the middle of a crowded parking lot. “Just let me eat ye out in th' backseat.”

You’re stunned for all of ten seconds before you try to glance inconspicuously around the parking lot. It doesn’t look like anyone’s paying attention. Johnny notices it at the same time as you and his smile goes devilish, teeth showing behind his lips. 

“Aye, ah ken that look. Come on—I ken a spot down th’ road where we can park.”

[liketolaugh-writes]

Bruce looking past the fact that (recently adopted) Danny is a powerhouse and recognizing that he has other skills also. <3

Danny is a STEM kid and just as brilliant as his sister, you cannot convince me otherwise

Danny gave Bruce the handwritten list of powers in the morning. Bruce stared at it over his cup of coffee, then gave Danny a flat, somewhat disbelieving look. Danny shrugged sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry,” he said, perching on one of the stools. “I can point out the ones I don’t use if you just want to work on the ones I do. At least I have an idea of what needs improving with those.” Alfred gave him a cup of coffee and a plate of bacon and French toast, and Danny smiled at him. “Thanks, Alfred.”

“We’ll have to prioritize your training,” Bruce allowed after a moment, frowning down at the paper. Dick leaned over to look and whistled. “But all of these will be addressed eventually. You should have at least a moderate grasp of every tool at your disposal.” He looked up. “You intended to work in the lab today, correct?”

Danny nodded, playing with a strip of bacon. “I’ll probably spend most of today making a big batch of phaseproof coating,” he said. “Then I can experiment with mixing it with paint and maybe coat some of your spare weapons in it? That should work for the bo staff and escrima sticks, maybe a set of brass knuckles. But I’ll need to make a different solution for the edged weapons.” His mind wandered, thinking of how he could adapt what he knew of the Bats’ gear to work against ghosts.

“Who’re the brass knuckles for?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow at Danny. Danny flushed and shrugged.

“Batman,” he said. “You don’t really use a weapon, right?” Bruce grunted. “But phaseproof cloth isn’t something my parents ever really figured out. I can work on it, maybe, but I thought brass knuckles would be an okay compromise for now.”

“Hn.”

“Good thinking,” Dick praised with a smile. “It’ll be easy to add to the utility belt too. Should we ghostproof my main set or a spare?”

“The main, I think, if you’re okay with it,” Danny said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “You probably won’t even notice. But the edged weapons should all be spares. Ecto-treated metal tends to glow.”

“Not great for stealth,” Dick nodded. “Whatever you think is best, baby spook. We have the resources.”

“You’re hyper-specialized,” Bruce noted without inflection, sipping from his coffee. Danny winced.

“Sorry,” he muttered. It was easy to forget that all this was pretty useless outside of Amity Park. Bruce shook his head.

“It’s not a problem. But we’ll need to diversify your skillset. Your talent for chemistry and engineering should expand beyond ectoscience alone.” He studied Danny contemplatively. “Higher education might be beneficial, perhaps a PhD.”

Danny’s eyes went wide. “What? I’m barely passing high school!”

“I had Casper High send over your transcripts,” Bruce said. Danny flinched. “You had a B+ average in middle school, with a particular bent for math and science. You also participated in several advanced extracurriculars, including a junior astronaut program, space camp, and competitive robotics. Further, you clearly have a comprehensive understanding of your parents’ work, which eludes both the Justice League engineers and JL Dark. You had these talents prior to acquiring your powers, and it would be a waste to discard them in favor of your raw combat ability.”

Danny stared at Bruce, open-mouthed and speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d considered even the possibility that he could have a future outside of his hero career.

“…Do you think I could do that and be a superhero?” he managed after a minute, quieter than he’d meant to.

Bruce nodded sharply. “Most Justice League heroes maintain a career outside of heroics,” he reminded Danny, without even sounding like he thought Danny was an idiot for asking. “Aside from myself, there is also a Pulitzer prize-winning journalist, a museum curator, a forensic scientist, and a fighter pilot.”

Danny had known that on some level, but it had always seemed unreal. Practically a myth. “When am I going back to school?” he asked, hardly able to believe that he was suddenly looking forward to it.

“At the beginning of next semester,” Bruce said. “Your parents’ trial should be completed by then. I assume you don’t want to be announced publicly until that happens.” Danny shook his head fervently. “You may need to complete some make-up classes online, but we can discuss that next week.”

“Thanks,” Danny said sincerely. He was talking about a lot more than his re-enrollment.

[ka1rin]

Tension

Sae Itoshi x Reader , wc: 3.1k , genre: smut

MDNI! contains & themes: hate sex, enemies to lovers, p in v, teasing

It was a well known fact at your school that you and Sae Itoshi absolutely hated each other. No one could pinpoint exactly when it started, but the mutual disdain had been there for years.

Maybe it was the way Sae thought the world revolved around football, completely ignoring everything else. School events? Group projects? Cleaning duties? Sae was always absent, choosing to spend his time practicing or playing matches. It infuriated you how he'd get away with it, just because he was the star player.

Meanwhile, you were the complete opposite. You threw yourself into every school event and project, often leading committees and organizing programs. So every time Sae's name would pop up on a list and he wouldn't show, you'd end up picking up the slack. And oh, you let him know about it.

"You could at least pretend to care about something other than football," you snapped at him once after an event where you ended up staying late because he didn't show up to help.

He didn't even glance up from his phone. "Not my problem."

That nonchalant attitude of his made your blood boil. Meanwhile, Sae hated you for entirely different reasons. In his eyes, you were nothing more than an annoying perfectionist who constantly nagged him. Every time you got in his face about responsibilities or schoolwork, it only reinforced his belief that you were too uptight, too controlling.

"You should stop trying so hard," he told you once, his tone flat and bored. "It's pathetic."

The animosity between the two of you was so obvious that even the teachers knew better than to pair you up for anything. But fate, or your English teacher had other plans.

The sun blazed through the classroom windows as your teacher's voice echoed in the room. You were already annoyed, scribbling notes while Sae sat at the back of the class, leaning back in his chair, looking half-asleep.

"Sae Itoshi, see me after class," the teacher said sharply, snapping her fingers to get his attention.

You smirked, glancing over your shoulder. For once, it looked like karma was catching up with him.

When the bell rang, you were packing up your things when your teacher called your name. "(Y/N), stay for a moment, too."

You froze, narrowing your eyes. Whatever this was, you already didn't like it.

Sae stood in front of the teacher's desk, his arms crossed, his usual stoic expression firmly in place. You joined them reluctantly, your annoyance bubbling at the thought of having to deal with him for even another second.

"Alright, Sae," the teacher began, folding her arms. "Your grades in English are unacceptable. If you fail another test, you'll be ineligible for the football tournament."

You suppressed a laugh, but the smirk on your face was hard to hide. Sae's expression, though subtle, faltered for just a second.

"And you, (Y/N)," the teacher continued, turning to you. "Since English is your strongest subject, I'm assigning you as Sae's tutor."

"What?" you and Sae said in unison.

"This is ridiculous," Sae muttered, his voice cold.

"And I don't have time to babysit him," you added, crossing your arms.

The teacher raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by either of your protests. "You'll make time. This is non-negotiable. I expect you two to work together every afternoon until Sae's grades improve. That's final."

The classroom fell silent as your teacher walked out, leaving you and Sae behind with an awkward air of tension. You sat on one end of the desk, arms crossed, glaring at him. He, of course, looked completely unbothered, as if this was all a waste of his precious time.

"Okay," you began sharply, "we'll meet at the library tomorrow after class. Be there by 4 PM, and don't be late."

Sae raised an eyebrow, his tone as flat as ever. "The library? No thanks."

You scowled. "What do you mean, 'no thanks'? That's where people study."

He shrugged. "Too many people. It's noisy, and I don't want anyone seeing me being babysat."

Your irritation flared instantly. "Babysat? This is tutoring, not babysitting. And maybe if you actually cared about school, we wouldn't even have to do this!"

Sae ignored your outburst, pulling his phone out of his pocket lazily. "Let's just do it at my place. It'll be quiet, and I can focus better."

Your eyes narrowed. "Your place? Are you kidding me?"

He met your glare with a bored look, like you were the one being unreasonable. "What's the problem? You scared or something?"

That last comment struck a nerve. "Scared? Of you? Not in a million years."

"Good," he said with a faint smirk. "My place. 6 PM. Don't be late."

Before you could argue further, he turned and walked off, leaving you fuming in your seat.

By 6 PM, you stood outside Sae's house, clutching your bag and muttering complaints under your breath. This was not how you envisioned spending your evening. When the door finally opened, there he was, leaning casually against the frame in his hoodie and sweatpants.

"Took you long enough," he said.

"You said 6 PM. It's 6 PM," you snapped, brushing past him as you stepped inside.

His house was annoyingly perfect, modern, clean, and minimalistic. It looked like a magazine photo shoot, which only irritated you more.

"Nice place," you muttered sarcastically, dropping your bag on the coffee table.

Sae ignored your tone, sitting on the couch and grabbing a pen. "Let's just start."

You sat across from him, pulling out your notes. "Alright, let's review your grammar mistakes from the test. Here's what you got wrong—"

"Do we really have to go over every single one?" he interrupted, leaning back.

"Yes, because you clearly don't understand the basics," you shot back, already losing patience. "You can't just skim through this stuff and expect to pass."

"And you can't just lecture me like I'm some clueless idiot," he replied, his voice calm but sharp.

"Well, if the shoe fits," you said, unable to stop yourself.

He sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing. "You know, you're really annoying."

"Funny, because you're really disappointing," you snapped. "Do you even care about anything other than football? Do you even realize how much everyone else has to pick up the slack because you can't be bothered to show up or help?"

Sae's jaw clenched, and for the first time, you saw something like anger flash in his usually calm eyes. "I didn't ask for anyone to pick up my slack. I didn't ask for your help, either. If you hate this so much, then why are you even here?"

"Because I was forced to help you!" you yelled, standing up and glaring down at him.

He stood up too, towering over you slightly. "You think I wanted this? You think I need you to save me? If I wanted to, I could pass this class on my own."

"Oh, please," you scoffed. "If you could pass on your own, we wouldn't even be here right now. Just admit it—you're all talk, no action."

Sae's expression hardened, his voice dropping to a quiet, almost dangerous tone. "And you're so obsessed with being in control that you can't handle it when things don't go your way."

His words hit like a slap, and you opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, he continued, his voice softening in a way that threw you off completely.

"You're exhausting," he muttered, his gaze flicking to yours briefly before dropping. "But... I guess I don't hate it when you're around."

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. "What did you just say?"

Sae's eyes widened slightly, and for the first time, he looked genuinely flustered. "Nothing. Forget it," he said quickly, turning away and sitting back down. "Let's just finish this."

Your mind raced, and you sat down slowly, unsure of what to make of what just happened. The tension in the room was suffocating, but neither of you dared to say anything about it.

The session had spiraled into chaos—or at least, that's what it felt like. Sae had been working through his workbook, and you had been mindlessly scrolling on your phone. That's when you stumbled upon the clip of his last game, where he'd scored the winning goal. Of course, the caption sang his praises: "Sae Itoshi: MVP, the genius striker!"

You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you double-tapped the post.

"What's so funny now?" Sae's voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet like a knife.

You looked up at him, irritated by his tone. "Nothing. Just people hyping you up again like you're some kind of god or something."

His expression darkened. "Let me see."

"Why do you even care?" you shot back, standing up and walking over to him. "Here. It's just this post. Chill out." You leaned over, holding the phone toward him.

But he didn't look at the screen. Instead, his sharp eyes locked onto yours. "You're always like this," he said, his voice low but laced with irritation. "Always in my face, always acting like you know everything."

"Maybe if you weren't so hopeless, I wouldn't have to!" you snapped, standing up straighter.

"And maybe if you weren't so annoying, I wouldn't ignore you half the time," he fired back, standing up as well, towering over you now.

The tension in the room was unbearable, the air thick with unspoken words. You didn't back down, stepping closer. "You think ignoring everything makes you better than everyone else, don't you?"

"Maybe it does," he said, his tone sharp. "Better than someone who can't stop running her mouth."

You glared at him, your heart racing as your faces were now just inches apart. "God, you're so—"

Before you could finish, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you forward, his other hand gripping your jaw as his lips crashed into yours. It was messy, desperate, and caught you completely off guard.

For a moment, your mind blanked. All the anger, the frustration, the years of clashing with him—they all melted away as his lips moved against yours, firm and unyielding. His hand slid from your wrist to your waist, pulling you closer.

You froze for a second, shocked, but then something inside you snapped. Without thinking, you kissed him back, your hands clutching the front of his shirt as you pushed against him with just as much intensity.

The chair behind him scraped the floor as he backed up, pulling you with him. His hands tightened on your waist, guiding you closer, until your body was flush against his. The kiss deepened, his lips parting slightly as his tongue brushed against yours, stealing the air from your lungs.

Your hands slid up to his shoulders, gripping tightly as if you needed something to ground yourself. The kiss was heated, every ounce of pent-up frustration pouring into it. You didn't care about the argument anymore, didn't care about why you hated him or why this was happening, you just didn't want it to stop.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing uneven. His eyes were half lidded, the usual coldness in them replaced by something much more intense.

"You're infuriating," he muttered, his voice rough and breathless.

"Right back at you," you shot back, your voice just as unsteady. But instead of pulling away, you leaned in again, pressing your lips to his once more.

This time, it was slower but just as fiery, his hands exploring your sides as yours tangled in his hair. The heat between you was overwhelming, and you couldn't bring yourself to care about how far things had escalated.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your lips swollen from the intensity. The room was silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing.

"...So," you said after a long pause, trying to catch your breath, "was that supposed to shut me up?"

His lips curved into a small smirk. "It worked, didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the small smile tugging at your lips.

The air was thick with tension, the heat between you and Sae undeniable after the kiss you'd shared. But it wasn't over. Neither of you could quite look away, as if the intensity between you was drawing you in further.

You took a step back, still a little rattled, but your body didn't quite follow the command of your mind. The silence hung in the air until Sae broke it, his voice a low growl.

"Fuck this studying," he muttered suddenly, pushing the workbook aside.

"What?!" you sputtered, staring at him, incredulous. "We were supposed to—"

Before you could finish your sentence, he yanked you toward him. "Shut up," he commanded, his grip firm as he pulled you down onto his lap. You gasped in surprise, your heart pounding as his hand pressed firmly against your back to keep you in place.

Your breath caught in your throat as you found yourself perched on his lap, your face dangerously close to his. The heat between your bodies was undeniable, your pulse hammering in your ears.

"Sae! What the hell?" you snapped, trying to push him away, but his hands quickly cupped your face, holding you still.

"I'm done pretending," he muttered, before his lips descended on your neck, kissing you with unexpected urgency. Your body froze as you felt the warmth of his mouth against your skin.

"Stop, Sae!" you gasped, but his lips didn't stop moving, trailing down your neck, and you felt yourself give in to the sensation, your heartbeat accelerating. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and all at once, you felt like you were drowning in the tension.

Then, before you even realized what he was doing, he pressed a quick peck to your lips—teasing, fleeting, as if to remind you of how easily he could break your resolve.

"Now we're talking," Sae whispered, his voice low and gravelly as he looked at you, his eyes darkened with something more intense than annoyance.

You were still trying to catch your breath, heart racing, as his smirk only grew. "What the hell is wrong with you?" you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, his fingers gently caressing your jaw. "I could ask you the same thing." His smirk softened, and before you could react, his lips were on yours again, this time without hesitation.

You kissed him back, the intensity of it surprising you both. His hand slipped down your back, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel every muscle in his body tighten. The kiss grew deeper, his lips exploring yours as if trying to stake a claim.

You felt something hard and firm shift beneath you as you sat on Sae's lap. Your face flushed crimson, knowing exactly what it was, his considerable length stirring against you through his pants. Sae's smirk deepened, his hands firmly planted on your waist, pulling you slightly closer.

As Sae pulled you closer, your hips instinctively began to move, rubbing your wet panties against his now throbbing length. You moaned softly into his mouth as he captured your lips again, his smirk turning into a deep, hungry kiss.

Sae's right hand left your waist to reach between your thighs, his fingers deftly flipping up your short skirt to expose your soaked panties. He rubbed your sensitive clit in slow, deliberate circles as you continued to grind your core against his hardness, your moans and whimpers music to his ears.

Without warning, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you onto the nearby table. His hands moved to his belt buckle, undoing it with a clink. He slowly pulled down his pants, revealing boxers that strained against his impressive size.

With one smooth motion, he removed his boxers, revealing his massive, throbbing member glistening with precum. He stepped closer, lining himself up with your still-covered pussy. Teasingly, he rubbed the head of his cock along your wet panties, causing you to whimper. "S-Sae...please.."

What do you want me to do?' Sae asked teasingly, his voice low and husky as he continued rubbing his hard cock against your soaked panties. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear, 'Say it, y/n. Tell me exactly what you need.

"I need you inside me, Sae..." you whimpered desperately, your body aching with desire. Sae flashed you a devilish grin, 'Good girl,' he praised, his voice dripping with desire. In one swift motion, he tore your panties off, exposing your soaked pussy

He then rubbed his cock on your clit, moving down slowly till he reaches your hole. "Fuck"Sae groaned as he slowly pushed forward, the head of his thick cock easing past your tight entrance. Your pussy clenched around him, hot and slick. He paused, letting you adjust to his size before slowly sinking deeper with each inch, stretching you deliciously.

He began with a slow, steady pace, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein as he stretched you open. 'Fuck, you're so tight,' he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

As Sae quickened his pace, his thick member pounding into you, he reached down to tease your sensitive bundle of nerves. He circled his fingers around your swollen bud, rubbing in slow circles as he thrust into you deeper and faster. "Sae... Sae..." you whined, chanting his name like a prayer.

"...Sae! Sae! Oh god, Sae!' you whined, your voice rising to a desperate chant as he fucked you senseless. Your hands scrabbled at the table, your back arching as he hit that sweet spot inside you over and over.

Your pussy began fluttering around Sae's cock again, signaling another impending orgasm. 'Close already?' Sae murmured teasingly in your ear. Without waiting for a reply, he whispered urgently, 'Cum for me, baby. Soak my cock with your juices.'

As soon as those words left his lips, your body betrayed you, convulsing with another powerful orgasm. 'Fuck!' you cried out, your nails digging into his arms. With one final deep thrust, Sae let out a guttural moan, 'I'm fucking cumming..."

Both of you collapsed against each other, chests heaving as you shared labored breaths. A slow, satisfied smirk spread across Sae's face as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

Sae slowly pulled out, watching your release trickle down your thighs. He looked around at the scene - books you meticulously prepared for his lessons thrown everywhere, pages wrinkled and wet with your arousal.

Sae teased, picking up a book and flipping through the soggy pages. 'So, are we still studying?' You rolled your eyes and muttered a curse under your breath. 'Fuck you,' you said, but Sae just chuckled and said, 'Stay here, it's late.

[kooggukk]

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 NOBODY ELSE // JJK

genre: fwb, fuck buddies😼

note: guys i just want jungkook.. this has been sitting in my drafts for way too long haha sorry for spelling mistakes or anything i got too lazy to proofread it lol! enjoy tho💕

word count: 4.3k

being invited by jungkook’s mother for a dinner was normal for you and your family. you and jungkook grew up being neighbors, attend to the same high school and college later on — which he dropped out of.

it wasn’t because he’s dumb, he’s nowhere near that. he got bored, tired. his mother didn’t like the news when he told her, but she didn’t have a choice, other than to support his dream. jungkook always wished to be a singer.

some of his closest friends joked about it and laughed at the idea of jungkook being a worldwide celebrity. we could say that affected him a lot, he felt zero support from both sides: family & friends. he would often spend his days in his house, sitting on a particular part of his couch.

maybe you know him too well, you know that when he’s writing a song he would get a glass of beer, place it carefully on his coffee table, get his black notebook with his pen that he would click continuously when he’s deep in thoughts.

you know he would knee on the soft mattress beneath him, sitting on his feet like a cutie, focus on the lyrics with his big doe eyes.

you also know he would obviously play with his lip piercing, licking it, turning his tongue around it and what not. oh what that tongue can do.

the amount of times he had eaten you out on his couch, — on that spot of the couch — you wouldn’t even be able to count on your ten fingers. your friendship with him was different.

different, because you support him and understand him in a way nobody else had yet. but different because he fucks you, like crazy. he had fucked you in every way possible. fast, rough, deep, gentle, slow, anal. the last one was just once, though.

it all started at your birthday party, when you turned 25. you got wasted, he got tipsy, he knew about his whereabouts unlike you. he knew what was going on when he fucked you first, but what was he supposed to do when a woman like you, was literally begging to fuck you.

he felt guilty, he felt like he took advantage of the alcohol in your system. but when you woke up in the morning, with jungkook next to you, cuddled up, you didn’t freak out. you knew what happened, and you didn’t regret it. nor did he.

you know it shouldn’t be right, that it shouldn’t feel that good to get fucked by your best friend but god, you can’t help it. he admitted it, he finds you attractive. you find him it too.

but you both talked it out, no feelings. he told you he’d never want anything else from you other than your friendship and pussy.

and now, you’re sitting at the dining table with jungkook in front of you, his mother next to him and his father at the end. your mother on the other end as your father is next to you.

it’s normal, the atmosphere was comfortable and funny. the adults discussing work related stuff, your and his mother had already gossiped about someone else too.

it was a perfect night, except that jungkook hasn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire dinner, except when he got asked a question. you scolded him, non verbally with your eyes.

he’s a jerk. he just fucked you the night before, not on his couch this time though. it was in his kitchen, where he got too turned on by seeing you cut a cucumber. yes, a dang cucumber.

“so ___, i heard you finished college.” his mother spoke to you, your gaze turned to her and you smiled. “oh yes, last week actually.”

“what major were you in?” his father joined in. “psychology.” your mother interrupted and reached over to rub your back, feeling extremely proud of her daughter. you smiled, “i’m thinking about going back, i’ve been researching a lot on nursing lately.”

your eyes stopped on jungkook once again. he’s leaned back in the chair, one arm resting on the back of his mother’s chair, the other resting on his thigh. his chin is slightly lifted, looking at you as he plays with his lip piercing. fuck.

the parents continued the conversation, telling different stories about nurses as that came up. jungkook leans back to the table, resting his chin with his hands, elbows on the table.

he stares at you, not uttering a single word. you give him a small frown, not too noticeable. his eyes drop to your neck, then your chest or atleast what only was visible, then back to your eyes. you chuckled and shook your head in disbelief, he’s seriously thinking of sex right now.

you’ve tried to keep your ‘let’s fuck’ relationship with jungkook private, not going around and telling every second person that ‘hey i fuck my best friend!’. the only person who might know that you and him slept together is one of your friends from college, she saw you and jungkook that one night. the first night.

she hasn’t asked about it though, thankfully. it’s not like it was her business, so she dropped it. you knew he wouldn’t try anything with you in public, especially not in front of your parents. so that’s why it caught you off guard when you felt his leg touch yours, slightly nudging it.

you cleared your throat as you jumped a little from the surprise, a smirk on his lips as he stared at your flustered form. you cussed him out in your head, ‘fuck you’ you mouthed and he just raised a brow at that.

you rolled your eyes as you realized he wouldn’t mind that, his eyes still devouring the sight of you, almost fucking you with his eyes at this point. you don’t even wanna know what he’s thinking about at the moment.

“jungkookie, have you found yourself a girlfriend?” your mother asked, catching his attention. he fixed his posture and shook his head, “no, i’m not looking for a relationship at the moment.”

“he’s such a liar!” his mother pointed at him, “i know he’s seeing someone.” she said and took a sip of her wine. “am i?” he raised his eyebrow, his voice laced with confusion. “deny it all you want, but i found a lipstick in your pocket when you came home.”

his expression changed, his eyes somewhat turned nervous, scared even. you stared at him with a small smirk, taking a sip of your soda. he glanced at you, “must’ve been ___’s.” he chuckled and shook his head.

“and why would her lipstick be in your pocket?” his mother asked, obviously she didn’t believe him. “we came here together, i believe she put it there so she could use it if her makeup gets smudged.” he shrugged.

he was right, that was in fact the reason you put it there. “oh yeah, it’s mine.” you said, a small smile appearing on your lips. his mother nodded and with that the conversation was over. thank god.

as everyone finished eating, your and his mother disappeared into the kitchen, your fathers went outside to have a beer while ‘man talking’ or however they called it. leaving you and jungkook alone.

“you wanna die?” you scolded him, your voice was quiet not to get caught. “i swear junkook, i’ll choke you.” he grinned and rested his head on his hands, smiling at you like a child. “what?” you asked.

“choke me? is that your new kink?” he teased, his foot finding yours again under the table. you clicked your tongue and crossed your arms, “do you ever stop thinking about sex?”

“nope. impossible when you’re around me, babe.” there he goes again, he always somehow finds a way to get you hot. he just knows what to say every time. “you’re unbelievable.” you can’t help but to smile with a shake of your head.

“what? you’re acting like you didn’t just strip me off with your eyes.” he teased and you gasped, “i did not-“ you stuttered, you got caught. “you’re the one to speak.” you argued back.

“i’m not denying it, i did wish to rip that pretty blouse off you.”

“i dare you, it was expensive. the only thing ripping will be your balls when i beat you up.” he scoffed at your words. “c’mon, you wouldn’t do that.”

“you think so?” you raised an eyebrow and he hummed in response. “how would i fuck you without balls?” again, he just knows what to say to drive you crazy.

“touché.” you mumbled and raised your glass to take a sip again.

✩•.𖣠°˙★

the evening came to an end as you both bid goodbye to your parents, you thanked his mother for the delicious meal. he offered to take you home and you agreed, assuming you’d end up at his place anyways. but your parents didn’t have to know about that.

and it happened just like that, the moment you stepped in his home you were pushed to the wall with force. you gasped, jungkook didn’t leave a single second for you to react as he attacked your lips, kissing you.

he held your face in place by your cheeks, your small reticule dropped from your hand as you hugged him close, kissing him back with just as much force and desperation as he did.

his right hand went to grab your ass, then holding your thigh as you lifted it up. he immediately pushed himself closer to you, grinding his growing erection against you.

not wanting to fuck you right at the front door, he dragged you to his living room, pushing you on the couch. he grinned at you and he dropped to his knees, the loud thud must have been hurtful, but he didn’t waste a single second.

he eagerly gripped the hem of your jeans, undoing it and pulling it off you, lifting your hips to help him. “hm, good.” he praised you for that small action of yours, his voice enough to create an ocean in your panties.

he touched your knees and thighs, caressing your skin while he leaned in to plant kisses on your inner thigh. he pulled you a little down, holding your legs tightly and he spread them. “don’t close.” he demanded, his voice hoarse and it sent you shivers down your spine.

you gasped once again when you felt him kiss you on your panties, he pulled away to take off his black turtleneck sweater but went right back in, pulling off your panties in a second.

the cold air hit your core immediately, but soon replaced by the heat coming from his body. he licked a stripe down your pussy, getting a hum out of you at the familiar feeling of his mouth working on you.

your mouth fell agape when he sucked on your clit, your hands finding their way to his black hair, getting a great hold of them. he groaned at your action, he knows you like to get a hold of his hair, so he hasn’t cut it in some months now.

he pulled away, you almost whined about him stopping but then he spread your folds with his fingers, spreading your wetness on his digits. he glanced up at you when he brought them to his lips, licking them.

he hummed, “love it.” he said, his voice a low growl. one of his hand rests on your thigh, gripping it softly. the other goes to your core again, inserting his finger in you. his head goes back down, disappearing between your legs once again as he starts sucking again, his finger pumping into you.

your back arched, unintentionally. “oh, fuck,” your breath hitched, he smirked against you. he added another of his long digits, curling them inside you, he pulled away as he stared into your eyes, then his gaze dropped to his hand working on you.

he groaned at the sight, he’s slept with girls before you, it was obvious he was experienced, but he could swear on his life your pussy was the prettiest he has ever seen in his whole life.

“so pretty,” his voice was teasing and you gasped his name, pulling his head up. “shut up,” your voice was a low murmur and he raised an eyebrow at your sass.

“what? can’t i call what’s mine pretty?” he chuckled and shook his head, secretly adding a third finger. “i don’t want your fingers,” you whined, your hips moving on their own. “i need to get you stretched, babe.” he grinned and he continued, his three fingers now going in a slower pace.

“no,” you stopped his hand, “i’m okay, just-“ you licked your lips, his gaze dropping to them. “shit, just fuck me already.” your voice was more like a whisper, full of need. “you’re tight, i don’t want to hurt you.” he argued back, but his fingers were already out of you as he wiped them in his jeans.

you sat up straight on the couch, closing your legs. “c’mon, you fucked me enough already. i can take you,” he couldn’t help but to let out a small laugh and he nodded, “love that you speak your mind.”

with that said, he got up from the floor and leaned down to kiss your forehead, “i’ll be back,” that one small action of his is why you trust him, how you know that he is the right guy to be fuck buddies with.

he can be rough during sex, there’s no doubt in that, but you had experienced gentle sex too with him. roughness isn’t always necessary to get rid of the sexual frustration, and maybe, maybeeeee, you like it more when he’s gentle with you.

you like it more when his body is pressed against yours, slowly moving with the rhythm of his deep thrusts, you love it when he goes to hold your hand, either above your head or next to you, it doesn’t matter. you love it when he stares in your eyes with every thrust. unlike during rough sex, when his eyes are either closed or focused on your tits.

soon he comes back, a pack of condom with him, some tissues and a towel. “what’s the towel for?” you ask, he never brought one before. he smiled at that and when he got to you, he plopped down on the couch. “just in case.” he shrugged but you felt suspicious, he was up to something.

he put everything aside and leaned in, crashing his lips on yours once again. “how do you want it?” he asked when he pulled away, but he still managed to give a soft peck on your nose.

you frowned because he usually wasn’t like this, wasn’t so affectionate. sure, in other ways he was, especially after sex. he always takes care of you, but he never just pecks you in random places and asks how you want it.

“however you want me.” you shrugged. “you’re up to something, you’re suspicious.” you narrowed your eyes at him and he grinned. “suspicious?” he asked as he started to unbutton your blouse. you hummed and leaned back, letting him do it.

“i’m not suspicious.” he said and kissed the skin just above your breasts, he pulled the clothing off your shoulders when he finished with all the buttons, leaving you in your bra.

“you’re very detailed tonight, aren’t you?” you sighed and reached behind, undoing your bra with a smooth move. “detailed?” he frowned and reached to his belt, unbuckling it.

you hummed and reached to unzip his jeans, with a lift of his hips you pulled it down, his dick begging to be freed from his white underwear. you could feel yourself throb by just the thought of having sex with him again, when in fact you just did it yesterday too.

“it don’t bite.” jungkook chuckled when he saw you were just staring, god, almost drooling at this point. you rolled your eyes, holding the hem of the underwear. you pulled it off, his dick sprang free.

you could let anyone call you stupid, you don’t care but for sure you know that jungkook’s dick is pretty. of course it would be, that whole man is a god. he sighed in pleasure when you wrapped your fingers around him, his head thrown back.

you started off slowly, stroking him with smooth, unrushed moves as you watched his face. his eyes closed, mouth open and eyebrows knitted together. soon you picked up your pace, earning low groans and sometimes even moans from him.

you started to kiss his neck, nibbling on his soft skin. he cursed, it was his favorite when you kissed his body. his breaths came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with every breath he took.

“shit, ___.” he uttered a low groan, “don’t stop, oh- please..” you hummed at his begging, jerking him off as fast as you could. he was close, you know well enough to see when he has an orgasm.

you see the way his thighs occasionally stiff, his grip on the pillow that reached his hand first is tight. and then you see his eyes staring down at you, sometimes rolling back and closing, then opening them again. you see how his mouth is agape, his low groans turning into soft moans and cries, his brows crashed together on his forehead.

he was just straight up mesmerizing. sometimes you felt like the luckiest woman on earth that you could capture him in this state. which he was in because of you, nobody else.

“please plea-“ his voice cracked, ending it with a louder moan as he reached his orgasm, spilling his white juice on your hand. you didn’t stop there, you slowed down your pace, but you just couldn’t stop.

he hissed when he started to feel sensitive, bringing his head straight back up from the backrest to look at you. “___, don’t,” he whined. you cupped his chin, pressing a soft, feather-light kiss on his rosy lips.

he lazily responded to it, barely moving his lips. he brought his hand on yours, stopping you from jerking him. you pulled away, “just give me a second, babe,” his voice came out hoarse, your heart skipped a beat and your pussy throbbed by the nickname.

he licked his lips, clearing his voice. “you still with me?” you smiled, your hand reaching to his hair, gently pulling a few strands of them. he scoffed and fixed his posture, his hand grabbing your thigh.

“you gotta do more than just a handjob to lose me.”

“more? i can do more.” you mumbled, your face already in his neck, kissing his skin once again.

“i know you can,” his hand went from your thigh to your hip, helping you straddle his lap. you both moved naturally, riding him is definitely in your top 3 positions.

you quickly handed him a condom from the box which he put on in a second and just like every time, your arms went around his neck, grabbing onto his shoulder while he hugged your body close to his with one of his arms, the other hand holding his cock, he carefully entered, stretching you good like he always does.

he sighed in content, enjoying your warm walls clenching around him. you hummed, letting yourself down completely on him, only to go back up, then to smash back down.

his hands grabbed your ass while you did that, helping you keep the steady rhythm. his head was now thrown back once again, you watched his adam’s apple bob when he swallowed, his mouth fell open.

you kissed his neck again, wherever you could reach. for some reason, it was your favorite spot to kiss, under his jaw, behind and under his ear, just right above his collarbone, you loved it.

oh how much he loved it too, your kisses were always wet but never to the point to leave his skin covered in saliva. you were always so gentle with him, maybe that’s what he loved the most.

he had been with a few girls before who would stupidly and harshly just bite down on his skin, leaving ugly marks all over his neck and shoulders, but with you, never. it could be to just avoid any attention by giving him hickies, or it could be because you found it too intimate, too romantic.

whatever the reason was, he knew he sometimes wished, maybe even prayed that this time you would mark him, even if it’s the smallest spot on his skin. of course, he would never tell you to do that, though. marking really does feel too intimate, and he was afraid he would cross a line with you.

he realized what he was missing out on, so he held his head up, looking at you move. your breasts moved just enough to catch his eyes. his fingers dug in your asscheeks as your own hands explored his body, from caressing his chest, then slightly brushing your fingers over his nipples, down to his ribs, and to his abs.

he felt you slowing down, “s’okay, take a break,” he whispered and you did so, stopping your movements. your chest was rising rapidly, sweat forming on both of your foreheads.

he softly pecked your cheek, lifting you up by your ass just enough so he can start pushing upwards into you. he didn’t rush anything, going slowly at a comfortable pace. “you okay?” he asked, his eyes searching for yours.

you sighed, giving him a nod but he shook his head. “words,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss your skin just above your breasts.

“i’m okay,”

he groaned when you clenched around him, he felt himself slowly slipping down on the couch with each thrust he made, so he held you tightly, switching positions.

he made you lay down on your back, your legs wrapped around his waist without slipping out of you. he picked up a slow pace at first, his hands roaming around your body, mostly your sides.

you held his hand, “stop,” you whined, your sides are hella ticklish. “hm? what? can’t handle a little caressing?” he teased, moving his hand so slightly over your skin you got goosebumps.

you tried to push his hand away but you failed, his touches made you giggle and he smiled, glad he could still have moments like this with you in the middle of literally fucking.

all of that stopped when he suddenly smashed himself deep into you, a little harder than he did before. you couldn’t help but to moan, he straightened his posture and he spread your legs, holding your knees.

just like when you were riding him, your breasts bounced again, drawing the attention on them. he picked up the speed of his thrusts, sweat dropping from his forehead, down to his chest where it slowly dripped down his body.

“so a nurse, huh?” he suddenly said, referring to the conversation you had at the dinner. “would love to fuck this pussy in a nursing costume.” a low moan left his mouth when you clenched around him, “ya like that?” he laughed. “you want it too, yeah?”

“shut up- oh my!” your mouth fell agape in pleasure when you felt a finger pressing down on your clit, moving in every way possible. up and down, side to side, making circles. he wasn’t too rough, he knew it was one of your most sensitive parts of your body.

the top of his thighs slapped against the back of yours with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping on each other got mixed with the noise of your wet folds taking his dick, the couch slightly creaking along with heavy breathing and occasional quiet moans, whines.

you felt yourself getting closer and closer, the familiar feeling already in your stomach. you felt like you were going to explode, your eyes shut tightly as you bite down on your lip, your body ready to let go.

after a few more of his thrusts you let go, but oh! turns out it wasn’t just your usual orgasm, no, you squirted under him. he pulled out, watching your body shake and then slowly relax. “fuck,” you breathed heavily, you could have sworn you saw stars.

“did i s-“

“yes. you squirted.” he said, like that was something casual. you thought it was over, that he was done but then he did the unexpected, he pushed back in. “just a little- longer,” his words came out in gasps, pounding into you to reach his own climax too.

you whined, you felt extremely sensitive and it was slowly turning to be the opposite of pleasure, “i know, just a little more,” his voice was soft, he knew it was too much but he needed that orgasm.

then, his thrusts suddenly stopped, staying still inside you as he filled the condom, a low groan leaving his lips. he licked them, feeling like his mouth just turned drier than a desert. he pulled out and leaned down to peck your lips, “you did good,” he whispered.

you hummed, your fingers already touching your core, the wetness surprising you. “dang..” you both chuckled, you sat up and looked down, feeling uncomfortable. there was a wet spot on the towel under you, “you bitch, that’s why you needed the towel.” you shook your head in disbelief, “scared i’ll stain your sofa?”

he smiled and tilted his head, resting his ass on his heels. “actually, yes. you know it was expensive.”

“then, maybe you shouldn’t fuck me on it?”

he chuckled, “maybe, but i don’t care. you’re worth it all.”

[biscuitdolly]

୨ৎ absolute necessities .ᐟ

if you're trying to glow up, get healthier, etc, these are the very basics that you absolutely NEED to follow!

01, WATER .ᐟ

Staying hydrated is crucial for your health and wellbeing. While the recommended daily intake is 8 cups of water, you can gradually increase your consumption over a few weeks if that seems too overwhelming. Drinking enough water provides numerous benefits, from clearing skin and flushing out waste, to boosting exercise performance and supporting weight loss. Despite being the very essence that sustains life, water is often underappreciated.

02, FOOD .ᐟ

I used to skip breakfast, thinking it would help me lose weight. However, studies show that those who eat breakfast tend to lose more weight and keep it off longer. The truth is, food is incredibly important. It's best to regulate your eating habits by consuming at least 3 meals per day, even if they're only small portions. Some food is better than no food. If you want to go on a diet, that's fine! but make sure you research healthy dieting methods. At a minimum, eat one serving of fruits and vegetables daily, and try to increase that to five servings per day if possible. Proper nutrition is key for your overall health.

03, HOBBIES .ᐟ

i have this previous post regarding hobbies you could try! It's so important to find fun activities that you genuinely enjoy and look forward to doing. Hobbies add fun to your life and pose as a nice break from technology and the stress of work and school. They also greatly improve symptoms of depression and anxiety. You could do some physical activity, such as a sport you like, or something more calm and creative, like painting or writing.

04, SLEEP .ᐟ

a lot of people struggle to fall asleep at a decent time. Try getting ready for bed early. Personally, I tend to take off my make up and do my skincare immediately after i come home for school/work so i don't have to worry about it before bed.

Technology is probably your sleeping schedule's worst enemy, as the blue light from the screen keeps your brain awake, so try to pause screen-related activities at least an hour before bed. Also, try not to snack 2 - 4 hours before you go to sleep. This is because lying down makes it harder for your body to digest food, which can result in sleeplessness.

Forcing yourself to go to bed super early isn't helpful either. Like I've mentioned in my other points, take things slow and gradual!

05, SOCIALIZATION .ᐟ

Engaging in simple social interactions, such as conversing with family, seeing friends, or greeting people on the street, is incredibly important. Isolating yourself in your room all day accomplishes nothing.

There was a time when I dreaded spending time with friends, convinced I lacked the energy or mood. However, once I forced myself to make plans, I realized how much I genuinely enjoyed their company. Other people are what make life truly worthwhile. So why not reach out to a friend right now and invite them to hang out tomorrow?

06, ACTIVITY .ᐟ

you don't need an exercise routine if you don't want one, but simple physical activity is still a daily necessity! At least 30 minutes is recommended. Personally, i most enjoy plugging in my headphones and going on a walk around my neighbourhood for an hour or two.

07, SELF TALK .ᐟ

Arguably one of my most important points, quit the self-deprecating talk. You never realize how much it affects you until you quit it. Yes, you can absolutely get that assessment done. Yes, you are a likable and amazing person. Just keep affirming and reminding yourself that you are worthy, and you will attract so many good things. Trust me, it will help you so much in the long run.

[l1tw1ck]

Scholarship

Top Tony Stark x Bottom!FTM Reader

Terms Used for Reader: Pussy, Sex, Dick, T-Dick, Cunt

here's a random tony blurb. idk if it's long enough to be worth putting on ao3 😭 heavily inspired by an event req, will probably post that next?

CW: Non-Con, Power Imbalance, Spanking, Daddy Kink, Perv Tony, Creampie

"How many more times do you have to be sent to detention until you stop acting out?" Tony sighs, sitting at the teacher's desk as you take your normal detention seat. He's the principal, but offered to watch over your detention this time. It wasn't a strange request since he's the reason you have a scholarship, it's expected of him to worry about someone he personally sponsors. "You’ve skipped so many classes, are you trying to get your scholarship rescinded?”

You don't respond. You don't skip school because you want to. You live on your own so you spend most of your time working or sleeping. You miss your morning classes often due to constantly being overworked. You work two jobs so school and detention is the only time you have to rest or study. The scholarship only covers your attendance, you have to work for everything else. You wanted to sleep this time around.

Tony sighs. "Come here."

You walk towards him. "What?"

He walks over to the other side of his desk and forces you to bend over. Before you can even say a word, he spanks you. "I awarded you with the scholarship because I saw your potential. With conduct like this, you’re making me look like a fool.”

Your breath hitches, there's no way this is allowed. "Don't- don't touch me-"

Tony ignores you and unbuckles your belt, restraining your hands with it before forcing your pants off. "Maybe a little forcefulness will straighten you out." He spanks you again. "I've always liked you, you know?"

You shiver. Liked you? The principal, liking you, a student? You always thought he looked at you weird but this never crossed your mind.

"You always seemed tough, so tough that I thought it'd be hard to break you. But that's only a facade, isn't it?" He pulls your underwear down. "What a pretty sight." He runs his fingers down your sex and to your t-dick, softly touching it and involuntarily getting you wet.

"Get the fuck away from me!" You kick his leg, but it does nothing.

"And here I thought you'd lost your fight." Tony chuckles, sliding a finger into your entrance.

"Stop it!" You squirm around. “I’ll tell the cops!”

He grins and lets out a shaky breath, your struggle is turning him on. He leans forward and into your ear. "I could just force my cock inside if that's what you want, sweetheart." He slides another finger into you.

You shake your head. "No- I don't- I don't want that-"

He groans in pleasure. "Scared? If you're good, I’ll be gentle."

"You're a disgusting bastard."

"Am I?" He pulls away from your ear and takes his fingers out. You listen to the sound of his belt falling to the ground and the shuffling of his clothes. Your body seizes at the feeling of something rubbing against your pussy, the tip of his cock. You brace for his entrance, soon feeling him force his thickness inside you.

Tony moans again. "Your pussy feels so good around my cock." His voice is deep and dripping with lust. You never thought Tony Stark would turn out to be a guy like this. "Fuck, you're taking me so well..”

“I- I didn't skip because I wanted to!” You clench your fists. “I work every night and every weekend!”

“You should’ve told me, sweetheart.” Tony gently rubs your back. “Quit. I’ll pay for everything. I can't have my best student wasting his time at some crappy job…”

You shake your head. “I’ll drop out..”

“If that's what you want. I’ll take care of you and you won't have to work another day in your life.”

You keep shaking your head. “I won't tell anyone…just…just let me go.”

“You hate me that much now?” He starts to fuck you at a lazy pace. “You used to look at me with such hopeful eyes…you idolized me.”

You don't say anything.

“I think I’m gonna miss that. I always fantasized about you looking up at me like that, sucking my cock like a good boy. The mere thought of seeing you smiling with my cum all over your face drove me crazy.” He grabs your waist. “But you hating me is sexy too. Your fear is adorable.”

He starts fucking you properly, making the desk shake with each movement. “God, I’ll never get sick of this pussy.”

The intrusive feeling of his cock inside you is undeniably pleasurable but even more disgusting. The thought of experiencing this frequently makes you sick. You don't want to feel good.

“C’mon, baby, moan for me.” He spanks you. You’d rather get your mouth sewn shut. He leans against you and brings his hand in between the gap between you and the desk, aiming for your dick. You twitch as he strokes you. You can't help but make noise. “There you go.” You can hear his smile.

“Some- someone–” You let out a whimpery breath. “gonna hea- hear~”

“No one will. These classrooms are built to be as soundproof as possible. Even if they do, I’ll make sure they won't say anything.”

You feel disgusted at the possibility that he made it that way for this specific purpose.

“Mm- I’m close–” He huffs. “That's how fucking good you feel. Could barely last 30 minutes. Shit—”

Your eyes widen as you feel his cum flooding your insides.

“Don't worry..” He mutters, slowly pulling out and watching his cum drip down from your cunt. “I don't want any kids.”

You hear a camera flash.

[burningembers91]

Help Wanted - Seong Gi-Hun x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Back Alley Bar

Synopsis: When Seong Gi-Hun sees you struggling, he decides to step in

A/N: this storyline is becoming more angsty than I originally thought it would! A lot of my MC’s are happy go lucky people though, so it’s fun creating someone’s who’s just as flawed as the other characters.

You were late, so incredibly late. Between your full time day job, shifts at the bar, and your online university classes, you were burning the candle at both ends. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had more than 4 hours of sleep, and it was starting to catch up to you. Your shirt was inside out, a problem you’d only realised as you left the subway. You’d have to quickly change it in the bathroom before class, and hope your students and fellow teachers didn’t notice your absence.

You glanced down at your watch: only 6 minutes to make a 10 minute journey. You’d have to run to the school, which meant you’d turn up to work both sweaty and dressed incorrectly. Groaning internally, you picked up the pace, setting out into a steady jog. You hated running, it made you feel like your lungs were about to burst out of your chest. You were so busy mentally timing your journey that you didn’t notice the figure in front of you. Not until you collided full force with them, knocking you and the contents of your bag onto the pavement.

“Oh, fuck!” You hissed, your hands going straight to your throbbing nose. You looked up, ready to curse whoever it was that hadn’t moved out of your way, only to see Seong Gi-Hun standing over you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, bending forward to help you up. You nodded, checking there was no blood before scrambling to pick up your papers that were blowing lazily down the road.

Gi-Hun had always thought you’d been beautiful, but even he had to admit that you looked exhausted beyond measure. There was deep bags under your eyes, toothpaste in the corner of your mouth, and was your shirt inside out?

“Your shirt-“ he began, before you cut him off, your tone harsh.

“Yes,” you snapped, “my shirt is inside out.”You took the remaining papers from his hands, sighing as you rubbed your tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “I’m just really tired and really, really late for work.”

Gi-Hun held his hands up, stepping aside to let you rush past him. “I hope you have a good day!” He called after you, smiling as he watched your incorrectly worn shirt billow in the warm spring breeze.

He hadn’t been to the bar for a few weeks. Your words had really gotten to him, had made him stop and think. Did he really want to spend the rest of his life wallowing in his own pity? Drinking himself to death wouldn’t change what he’d done, nothing would take back the mistakes he’d made, nothing would bring back the people he’d lost. But if he didn’t do something soon, he’d waste away into nothingness. The morning after the conversation in your car, Gi-Hun threw away the bottle of whiskey he usually kept by his bed. He went out and looked for places advertising employment, willing to take on whatever work he could get. He missed seeing you though, missed listening to you talk when you thought he wasn’t listening. He’d never seen you in the daylight before, and you looked even more beautiful than you did in the dimly lit bar. But you looked so tired, so stressed. You’d done so much for Gi-Hun over the last few months; now it was time for him to return the favour.

That night, Gi-Hun returned to the bar. He didn’t drink, though he desperately wanted to. He just sat with you, keeping you company as you had done for him so many times. You looked exhausted, your eyes red rimmed and puffy. You didn’t talk much that night, too tired to form words. But Gi-Hun didn’t mind; he knew better than anyone that sometimes all you needed was a persons presence to stop you from going completely insane.

“Let me drive you home,” he said to you at the end of your shift.

“I’m fine, honestly,” you mumbled, fumbling with the keys as you locked the bar down for the night.

“Please,” he insisted. “It’s not safe for you to drive.”

You looked at him, closing your eyes as they burned with tiredness, before sighing.

“Fine.” Tossing him the keys, you slumped into the passenger side, secretly grateful for the help. If you’d had to drive home, you weren’t sure you’d have made it back in one piece.

You were both silent as the car wound through the city streets, lost in your own thoughts. Gi-Hun helped you upstairs with your bags, ladened down with student essays you needed to mark, and your own uni work that you hadn’t had time to complete. He wasn’t sure if he should stay for a while, to make sure you got in ok.

“Have you eaten?” He asked, desperate to prolong his time with you, even for a brief moment. Your stomach growled loudly in response, and you clutched at it.

“I guess I forgot to,” you mumbled, throwing yourself down on the couch which was littered with yet more paperwork.

“You need to eat,” he said, “let me make you something.” He dug around in the cupboards, finding a couple of packs of instant ramen to make while you got changed out of your work clothes. You returned a few moments later, makeup free and wearing a tiny pair of pyjama shorts. They accentuated the curves of your thighs and hips so perfectly, and Gi-Hun found himself unable to tear his eyes away. You looked so beautiful, but so fragile and broken.

Handing you the bowl of food, he turned to go. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, didn’t want to encroach on you when you clearly needed rest.

“Please don’t go.” Your voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear you. You looked so small sitting on your sofa, the bowl of steaming ramen in your hands. “Please, can you just stay a while?”

You were so lonely at the minute, so utterly drained and exhausted. You just needed some company, needed someone to sit with you. And so Gi-Hun stayed. He sat with you while you ate, neither of you talking, but both of you having so much you wanted to say.

“Why do you do all this?” He asked eventually, looking at the mountains of paperwork all over your tiny living room.

“I made some bad choices when I was younger,” you sighed. “I met someone when I was really young. I thought he was a nice guy; he wasn’t. I took a job as a teacher because it was easy and brought money in. But as soon as I put money in the account, he would spend it.”

Your ex sounded like Gi-Hun, and it filled him with shame.

“Did he gamble?” He asked, wondering just alike the two of them were.

You shook your head. “Drugs and prostitutes, mostly,” you laughed bitterly. “It took me years to get the courage up to leave. And when I finally did I realised I’d wasted my life being with a man I hated, in a job I can’t stand. I thought by going back to university I could make myself better somehow. But I’m just really tired and I have nothing to show for it.”

A single, fat tear dropped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. You talked long into the night, fighting sleep so you could spend more time with the man who had shown you such kindness. When your eyes could no longer stay open, you crashed hard on the sofa, your head slumped on Gi-Hun’s shoulder.

He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare wake you from the sleep you desperately needed. So he stayed there all night, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest. His hand tentatively stroked your back, soothing the troubled mumbles you uttered every now and again.

You’d been there for him when he needed someone, and now he’d be there for you. Life was tough for both of you, but you could help each other. Maybe together you could come out the other side. Maybe together you’d be ok.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 1- Anonymous Conversations

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N formed an unexpected bond with a boy behind the screen. He doesn't have many interest it seems, except for reading her stupid poems.

{Reader's POV}

12/07/2012

Dear Diary, Stella is leaving for Canada tomorrow forever. Today was the last day of school before the summer break so I went to Stella's house after school. It's so shitty, how can she leave me like this and before the start of high school. I don't have any friends other than her, what am I supposed to do??? This isn't fair, first Faye moved back to her home country a couple years back and now Stella. It's like they don't even care about me. I made a google plus account so we can stay in touch. Actually everyone's on google plus, I'm just late to the party. I'm sure we'll still be close.

02/01/2013

OMG!! I think I'm in love. There's this new boy band, One Direction. Ava told me about them last year but I brushed her off saying they weren't my cup of tea, but OMG!!! They are fucking perfect and I love Niall so much. He's so cute and has the dreamiest eyes and his accent, I'm gonna faint. I bought the Take Me Home album yesterday!! I even put up their poster above my bed, hehe!! Sooooo, I may or may not be writing now. I think I'm gonna be an author. The stuff isn't great like Shakespeare but I'm sure I'll improve. I've written a couple poems and Aria read them and she thinks they are great. I'm gonna start uploading them on google plus. I made a separate page for it, under a pseudonym. If I really improve, maybe I can publish my work.

I was sat at my laptop, typing the latest story I came up with during lunch so I could upload it. There were a lot of people who were reading my work and even encouraged me. There is improvement, but then again, we can do better, I'm sure. My parents aren't very happy with how I'm wasting my time writing instead of focusing on my education since I'm in high school now. I finished typing the story and clicked the upload button, I got a comment on the post. It was from this guy, named Max, just Max. He always read all of my work and writes the nicest comments under them. I haven't spoken to him personally ever since my mother kept warning me about stranger danger and that it could be some 50 year old dude. But his comments are encouraging and make me want to write more. I hope he knows the kind of effect he's having on me.

My birthday is in a couple of days, I don't know what I'll do since I don't really have a lot of friends. Even Aria is away during that time, so I don't really have anyone to go out with. My parents are busy as always.

So, out of desperation or sadness, I don't know which one, I posted on google plus saying that it was my birthday. The first person who replied was Max as always. I really wanna know when this guy sleeps or how he gets any work done if he is online so much. He messaged me personally too, to wish me again and even asked what I did. I couldn't lie because my heart was heavy, so I told him. I literally just unloaded about not having any friends and spending the day alone because work was more important for my parents. He was so nice about it. He spent the next hour talking to me and cheering me up. He's apparently 15, from Netherlands. He loves cats and lives with his dad and sister. He sounds like a fun guy.

After that, both of us ended up chatting on google plus regularly. I would message him immediately after school and spend the next couple of hours talking to him. Some times, he'd be gone a couple weekends but it was no biggy. I'm sure he had other commitments instead of entertaining a dumb teenager.

Max's birthday is on 30 September. I wanted to be the first one, so I stayed up late to match the dutch timings and wished him. He replied a little while later. He wasn't very excited about it. I get it, maybe his friends aren't there or couldn't make it to his birthday. I was gonna cheer him like he cheered me up. I wish I could send him a present. He really was a light in dark time. When I had no friends in school I could rely on, he came like the knight in shining armour. I just want to be a good and reliable friend to him like he is to me. He is such a sweetheart. We've never spoken on call yet. I guess I'm still a little scared and we've only known each other for a few months. I'm gonna hold on that but Max is a genuinely nice person in my eyes. But his dad doesn't sound like the nicest person from what he says, but I can't tell him that his dad is shitty so I just read his texts.

18/12/2013

Dear Diary, Maxie is the cutest. I haven't seen or heard him yet but I feel like he is. Otherwise, why would he encourage me to follow my dreams? He was so understanding and gave great advice. You might wonder why I needed the advice, diary. I told my parents I wanna pursue a degree in literature and we had a huge fight since apparently I'm throwing my life away and I should try to get a proper degree that might get me a job. Apparently, I'm not thinking straight. I've been thinking about becoming an author for some time now, it's my one passion, I've realised. And if it means struggling, I would rather struggle and be happy than be in a dead end job. Just because they are some big shot business people doesn't mean I wanna do that do. ugh!!! I hate them. Maxie calmed me down honestly, he heard me out and told me it was okay to follow my dreams. I think he is such a good friend. I won't tell him that, he has a big ego as is. LOL!!

I've been gaining a lot of traction on my posts on google plus. I have a couple thousand followers but Max is the most active of them all. Max is so effortlessly funny. He did ask one time if we could talk on call, I told him that my microphone was broken. I'm still a little skeptical. I know, even though I'm literally sharing everything with him, I've never spoken on call or video with him. Maybe some day.

04/03/2014

Dear Diary, I got a new phone and a new number. The previous one was one of my parents multiple numbers but this one is my own. I feel like an adult, hehe!! I made a whatsapp, maybe I'll share my number with Maxie and we might start chatting on there. Google plus had become a bit of hassle and I'm not uploading on it like I used to. I usually only open it to talk to Max. I think it would be better to shift it to another service. He's been a little busy this year compared to the last, didn't tell me much but I think it has to do with him being in his final year of high school. Can't relate, but I hope I'm done with high school soon. It fucking sucks. But on the bright side, I've gotten close to Nia and Aria and I could call Aria my best friend but she considers Nia her best friend. I don't mind being her friend. I have Max anyways.

Max has been quite busy lately, but I don't blame him. I would be busy in my final year of high school too. Even with all that, he has taken time out to talk to me. I did share my number with him, so now instead of google plus, which is a barren wasteland, we text on whatsapp. I've suggested talking on call some time when he's free, which hasn't happened yet.

We had set up a time to talk, it was really early here but I didn't mind, I was up anyways. I couldn't wait to hear his voice. I was anxious as well, what if he's some pedophile; all these thoughts raced through my head when my phone rang. Max- Hi, Y/N! Y/N- Hey, Max!! How are you? Max- I'm good, what about you? Y/N- Yeah, I'm good too. haha!! This is so weird talking to you. Max- yeah, you sound pretty. Fuck was he flirting, is this flirting? A million thoughts ran through my head, no one's ever flirted with me before. I felt my cheeks heat up. Y/N- You sound nice too. I mean....you have a nice voice. Max- haha, thanks, this is the first time some one has said that. Y/N- soooo, what have you been up too?? You've been so busy lately. There was a pause on the other end. I heard shuffling. Max- yeah, I've been busy with stuff. I'll be done soon for a while now. Y/N- That's great I need my best friend back! The conversation flowed smoothly. It didn't feel like we were talking on call for the first time. I had a lot of fun talking to Max. He sounds like a teenager, much to my relief. He's just as funny on call as he is on text.

After that, we ended up calling each other regularly. Max would answer my calls whenever but sometimes I felt bad about calling him at the crack ass of dawn in Netherland so I would avoid calling him whenever. He is so kind and listens well but damn does he talk. Every one who knows me calls me talkative, if they heard Max their ears would bleed. But I like hearing him talk, he has the most random and vast knowledge, he's helped me write too many of my papers because I didn't have to research, I could just ask him; he's like a walking encyclopedia.

17/05/2015

Dear Diary, I think I'm in love. It's not some celebrity this time but I think it's Max. I don't even know that dude's last name but I'm in love. He not like the guys in school, he's so mature and funny and sweet and understanding and he supports me so much. I didn't know when or how but I think I love him. Obviously I won't tell him. It's prolly a crush since I have't dated anyone ever. I'll get over it, can't ruin my friendship over this. As is, he has gotten so busy. I think he is going to college. He didn't say it explicitly but why else would he be so busy right now if not applying for colleges. I don't know the dutch education system but I'm sure he busy pursuing higher education. He said he liked cars, I think he'll do something with cars. I didn't really ask in more details. I'm sure he'll tell me when he wants to. We have a chill friendship, we share when and what we want to. Alas, I hope this crush doesn't ruin my friendship.

09/08/2015

This is bad, my crush on Max has only gone on to increase. He's so kind to me, what am I supposed to do? Also he's the only one who can calm me down after a fight with my parents regarding my future. Sadly, he gotten so busy. He's gone for a while every few weeks. But lately he's been free. We've been talking a lot. He sounds a lot more rested lately too. I'm sure college is tough. But he's strong and I know he'll do it.

[Little did Y/N know, Max was busy racing across the world in Redbull's junior team. He was in his first year as a formula one driver, hence he was so busy. Max had no intentions of telling her, he liked being just Max, a guy from Netherlands who could talk to her. He enjoyed the disconnect he got with her]

[earth4angels]

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

modern!jacaerys x f!reader

── semi angst? jacaerys is super in love, gets teased about it! one sided?? has an open ending, open for interpretation, not edited.

summary: over the course of an year, he watches her from afar, admiring the small details, falling in love with a stranger that does not know he exists. and as the final year of school almost at its end, he questions whether he wasted time or if it’s the perfect time to recover lost time.

a/n: short drabble and very rushed bc i just needed to post this before my idea died, and it’s a little sad with some fluff sorry jace nation, listen to beautiful stranger by laufey

jace tag list: @jacaerysgf @star611 @jules420 @gracexthoughts @astrxq @reyndaisy @hxtd @smurfelle @nanaldy @valdezthg @littleblackcatinwonderland @nixtape-foryou @starrgurl46 @ethereal-athalia @stelleduarte @canyonmoon-2 @ambrosia-v-black @ilovequeen978 @melsunshine

The wind blew through his face hard enough for his long trences of hair to fall into his mouth and his eyes. He sighed irritably, his hands pushing his hair back while he took the strands that ended in his mouth away.

He checked his watch, biting his lip when he realized he was running late to school - his mother would surely kill him if she found out. He always rejected their personal driver to take him to school as he did not like bragging about his status so he relied on public transportation to blend in with his classmates.

He never whined about it either, he loved the scenery, but most especially he loved to watch you.

You were beautiful, your hair always styled in bows, clips, your ears were always covered by your headphones blocking the noise of the outside as he would always see you reading. He studied every single detail of yours, the slight crinkle of your eyes when you read something interesting, the way you constantly licked your lips as your eyes darted through the pages of your book. He saw you always with pens as you highlighted or wrote in your journal pieces he would figure grabbed your attention.

Jacaerys admired you from afar, and often found himself dreaming about you when the day ended.

“I don’t know why you haven’t talked to her. You’re Jacaerys Velaryon, heir of your family’s business after your mother Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Cregan nudged him as the said heir only shook his head, his curls bouncing, he looked away to the window to watch you cross the street, your long hair blowing delicately against the wind.

“It’s not like it matters, school ends in two weeks. We will all graduate, and I will be moving miles away to attend law school. It wouldn’t work,” Jace muttered, his hands rubbing against each other, a nervous tic of his.

Cregan groaned childishly, “You depress me Velaryon. The gods made you with such looks you could pull anyone and you’re wasting it on a complete stranger? Someone you haven’t even made moves on for an entire year?!”

Jace glared at him before muttering again, “A year and a half… actually.”

“Seven hells mate. You have gone absolutely mad,” Cregan shook his head in disbelief, rolling his eyes at his idiotic lovesick best friend who hung his head.

Jacaerys did want to speak to you, maybe he could’ve asked what book you read or make a random question about what train stop took him to the academy. He didn’t know, but maybe he just could’ve just said something to get you to look at him. Time was clicking and he didn’t know how much longer he should wait.

He saw you enter the train again, this time a fluffy hat sat on your head, your cheeks a rosy pink from the wind outside, in your hands held a book. He smiled knowing you were going to spend another ride with your nose deep in the pages. You were so delicate with every move you made, and he felt like you lit the entire room with your presence.

He already knew your routine for how much he had seen you, but this time it was different. You turned your head looking around finding him sitting by the window, your eyes met his fiery brown ones. It was then he felt like he was going to faint, his heart beating rapidly - you smiled.

You smiled and he felt like the world vanished, leaving him breathless. It was only you, a ray of light caressing your shoulders illuminating you like a goddess. It was his chance… this was the chance he could’ve said anything. Yet he did something so idiotic that he went home that day slamming his head into the pillow cursing himself for being so stupid.

He looked away, his cheeks turning red. He did not smile or said anything but rather fixated on the blurs of the streets that passed by.

As the last week of school came, and his friends teased him about a crush on the beautiful stranger he was infuriated with - he found himself sitting the train ride again.

The familiar stop came, and he listened to the doors slide open, his hands shaking from the nervousness. The seat next to him suddenly became occupied, he did not look thinking it was a stranger that sat next to him.

A soft chuckle was heard and it made his heart flutter crazily, he peeked beside him slowly finding the beautiful stranger next to him.

You smiled at him, for you were waiting for him to speak first.

You did notice him a lot, and you knew about him, the famous Jacaerys Velaryon, first born son of the famous businesswoman Rhaenyra Targaryen.

You saw him in every train ride, but you also saw him on campus, laughing with his friends, often throwing a football as he played during lunch breaks. He was popular, maybe for his name or his money, but he walked around campus with such grace - his aura leaving many boys with envy and girls wanting him.

Your smile never left your lips as he stared at you in disbelief that you actually sat next to him.

From up close, you were much more beautiful, your scent overwhelming him as you smelled like he thought you would, a mix of floral and vanilla, you smelled like home.

Graduation was two days away. And he was set to leave the week after to start summer camp.

Perhaps, it was too late to start anything but his chance came to finally hear your voice, to at least know your name, the girl, the beautiful stranger that made his dreams sweet and made him smile when he sat to think of you.

Jace finally smiled back, and his soft voice made your insides warm, “Hello.”

[theemporium]

🥺👉👈

Best friend Eddie has had a *thing* for reader since middle school. But is worried to go for it (reader is sweet, smart, and funny. Probably would be popular if she didn't spend so much time with the "freaks".) So he'll take any little bit of affection he can get from her.

(I think we've all seen from the show and the interviews that JQ's love language is touch.)

Maybe Eddie starts hugging her and holding her a lot until one day at lunch he puts his hand on her knee and she moves it onto her thigh under her skirt (?).

You can take it from there 😂 that's the extent of my genius.

thank you for requesting!🖤

part two

.

Eddie Munson had always been an affectionate and touchy guy. 

You had been friends with him for many years and it was an undeniable fact the boy loved to show his affection through physical touch. Whether it was an arm thrown over the shoulders of the younger boys in the club as they make their way to the classroom to start the latest campaign, or whether it was knocking shoulders and excitedly hugging his bandmates when they make a breakthrough on a song they had been working on. 

Eddie was an affectionate guy and that treatment was extended to you too. 

It also just happened that he had a massive fucking crush on you and felt like his heart was going to burst through his chest every time he touched you.

It had been a normal Thursday. Classes had been long and torturous, but Eddie was practically bouncing in his seat to head towards the cafeteria for lunch. When he walked into the room, he saw you sitting in your usual seat—the one right next to him at the head of the table.

It was difficult to wipe the grin off his face as he made his way towards the table, slumping down into his seat and not even wasting a moment before he was gripping the back of your chair, dragging you close enough until your thighs were pressed together. He did this every day but something about you liked the way your heart skipped when he pulled you closer. 

It baffled Eddie why you always sat with them. You weren’t in Hellfire, not really. You never played but you enjoyed listening to them rant and ramble about it. You had other friends you could have sat with, ones that wouldn’t have made you seem as though you were a ‘freak’ along with the rest of them. But despite Eddie’s insistence that he wouldn’t be offended if you sat somewhere else, you still chose the seat right next to him—to make your own point. 

You were very happy and content where you were, settled under Eddie’s arm with your head resting against his shoulder as he continued to discuss the latest campaign with the other boys. You smiled softly, watching how excited and animated they got and the way Eddie’s face glistened in pride at how much they loved his campaign. 

But then your thoughts started to wander and you felt something warm just above your knee, your eyes darting down to see Eddie subconsciously place his hand on your thigh and gently stroke the skin exposed by your skirt. 

You pressed your lips together, not saying anything. You didn’t want him to move his hand, maybe because you weren’t sure Eddie saw you as anything but a best friend. And with this—with this, you could pretend it was something more. 

Then his hand moved up a little, the movement almost a little hesitant like he was waiting for you to push it back down. 

But you didn’t. 

You waited for him to shift higher but it stayed firmly where it was, a couple of inches below the hem of your skirt. Your eyes darted up, seeing the boys still screaming and yelling at each other across the table and lost in their own conversation. You stole a quick glance at Eddie, finding his eyes firmly stuck on the boys but the hint of a smirk on his lips gave you another idea. 

Your fingers slowly wrapped around his wrist, giving it a soft squeeze before you began to guide his hand higher up your thigh. It inched closer and closer until—

Eddie cleared his throat when you pushed his hand under your skirt, your thighs clenching together to trap his hand there. He pressed his lips together, forcing himself to keep his face neutral as though blood wasn’t roaring in his ears and going straight down to his cock. 

Your legs parted a little, just enough for him to move his fingers once again. You kept your gaze anywhere but your lap, the heat rushing to your cheeks warning enough that you would instantly blow your cover if you saw the sight of his hand between your legs. 

Eddie’s fingers slowly crawled further up your leg, his fingertips teasing your clothed cunt. You let out a small gasp, quickly covering it up with a cough as you felt his fingers press more firmly against your panties.

You nuzzled yourself against his side, the action not uncommon and, therefore, ignored by the rest of the group. Your face was practically pressed against the fabric of his jacket, muffling the small sounds that left your lips as his fingers grazed up and down your cunt—the touch too light but enough to make you squirm.

Nobody even questioned it when Eddie ducked his head down, his lips pressed against your ear and his warm breath fanned across your skin. 

“You’re so wet, baby,” he muttered, his voice low enough that only you could hear him. “And I’ve barely even touched you.” 

“Eddie,” you breathed out. 

“I didn’t know you liked this kinda stuff, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers pushing against your clothed clit as you fought the urge to squirm. “Letting me do this to you when anybody could see.” 

“Shit,” you hissed, the fabric of your panties soaked. 

“Who knew my best friend was such a slut,” he cooed softly. 

“Eds,” you whined slightly, your cheeks flushing when you felt his thumb press slow circles on your clit. 

“Or maybe you’re just a slut f’me,” he teased, grinning a little when you nodded your head. “A shame, baby.” 

Before you could even process his words or the way your stomach twisted in delight at his words, he was pulling his hand away and resting his hands on the table like nothing happened. 

You gaped at him, your panties now soaked and your body desperate to feel his touch again but the boy just shot you a look. 

“Later,” he said, eyes darkening a little when he noticed the way your thighs clenched together. “Keep ‘em on all day and you’ll get a reward later, in my van.” 

You bit your bottom lip. 

His lips grew into a smirk. “Gonna make sure that pretty little skirt of yours is fucking ruined, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

And then he returned to the conversation about his campaign like nothing was wrong.

.

[dat-town]

p.s. but i like you

Characters: Taesan & female reader

Setting & genre: to all the boys i’ve loved before au; she fell first, he fell harder; fluff, comedy

Summary: When your love letters are sent out to your ex-crushes and you spend your last break before university trying to get them back, the last thing you expect is your neighbour tagging along.

Alternatively; you write love letters when you’re ready to move on from an all-consuming crush. There are four in total: Kim Donghyun from science camp in middle school, Park Sunghee’s older brother who tutored you once, Lee Chanyoung from the holiday resort last summer and Han Dongmin, the boy next door.

Warnings: MC is a bit chaotic, a bit of jealousy

Words: 10.3k

Author’s note: shoutout to the anonie who told me that the she fell first, he fell harder trope would fit Taesan because that’s so true. i hope i did it justice!

Letting your mother help you declutter your room before moving to Seoul for university was a big mistake. You realize it the moment you open your desk’s bottom drawer only to find it perfectly organized, colorful pens and highlighters in one corner, cute stationery in the other with stacks of important documents in the back, very unlike the usual mess you had in this exact drawer, the one you use to keep little trinkets like movie tickets and your old diary with lock and key you have been too embarrassed to throw out in fears of somebody finding it. You quickly scan the contents of the drawer, check all the others too, half-relieved when you find the diary with its lock secured but it doesn’t dissipate your nerves entirely.

“Mom...” You walk up to her where she’s currently sorting your clothes by color after you’ve already separated them by season. “Have you seen the envelopes in my drawer?”

“The letters? Ah, yes. I had to pick up a package from the post office today anyways, so I mailed them for you,” your mother says matter-of-factly, not noticing the way you’re biting your lower lip nervously.

“What?” You shriek, louder than you intended, in pure panic.

“Well, except for Dongmin’s, of course. I gave his to his mother,” she continues as if it was a light-hearted chit-chat, unaware of the storm clouds collecting over your head because she’s too focused on deciding whether to put your beige or cream colored sweater on top. “What’s with them by the way? Is it one of those letter chains we used to do when you were younger?”

“No. No, no, no,” you throw yourself onto your bed and scream into your pillow when you realize she’s totally serious. She found those simple white, addressed envelopes on the bottom of your drawer and took them thinking you just never got around to send them.

However, those letters were not meant to be sent. Ever.

The thing is: you write a love letter whenever you’re ready to move on from an all-consuming crush. So they are rather goodbye letters, your closure after spending days, weeks imagining your life with just another boy before realizing that it wouldn’t work out anyways. Not that you ever do anything about your crushes and you prefer it this way. In your head you can make up all these little scenarios about holding hands, amusement park dates, watching the stars together because at the end of the day you’re a hopeless romantic. You can giggle about seeing your crush smile from far away without the disappointment getting to know them could possibly bring. You have seen enough of your friends get rejected or dumped, so nah, you don’t plan to ‘put yourself out there’ anytime soon. Especially now that high school ended and you got your acceptance letter from your dream university in Seoul and you’re so ready to leave Gwangju behind.

But now the letters are out and it ruins all your plans of a peaceful winter break.

You’re knocking on the Han family’s door as if the building was burning down, tapping your house slippers against the corridor’s floor because you couldn’t be bothered to waste more time by putting on proper shoes and outerwear just to walk one door down.

You’re still going with the momentum and almost hit Dongmin’s lovely mother in the chest when she opens the door for you but you manage to scramble backwards and try to regain your composure by forcing a polite smile on your face.

“Good evening, Mrs. Han. Is Dongmin home?” You ask tentatively, hoping, praying that she would say no, so you could ask for your letter back from her by making up some excuse. Your smile almost falls though when the woman nods and looks behind her shoulder.

“Dongmin! Y/N’s here for you,” she shouts down the hall before turning towards you with a kind smile and ushering you inside like she has always done ever since your family moved in next door when you were fifteen. “What are you waiting for? Come in.”

You mutter out a quiet thank you and awkwardly wave when you see Dongmin’s younger siblings in front of the tv in the living room but no sign of the boy.

“He must have his headphones on like usual. Just knock loudly on his door,” his mother clicks her tongue in disapproval and puts a bowl of sliced fruits in your hands before gently pushing you towards the bedrooms inside the apartment.

You gulp and follow her instructions but even if you haven’t been there before, you would know which door is Dongmin’s because it’s full with stickers of his favourite bands and there’s the unmistakable sound of guitar playing resonating through the door when you get close enough, the same sound you hear from your own room because you (unfortunately?) share a wall with the guy. You knock on the wood three times, loud enough for the music to stop and one and half inhales later it swings open, revealing the tall boy with tousled dark hair, wearing an oversized The Beatles tee and sweatpants.

It’s been a while since you have seen him from up close, so for a moment you’re rendered speechless and a wave of self-consciousness washes over you due to the state of your homey clothes and messy bun but then you remember that he has already seen you taking out the trash in you pajamas and with greasy hair as well as with the braces you had back in freshman year. Not to mention, you have a bigger, more embarrassing problem at hand than how you look.

“What?” Dongmin eventually speaks up, raising an eyebrow in question as he leans his side against the doorframe and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

Okay, if he doesn’t know what you’re here for nor he’s calling you out on your childish letter, he must not have read it yet, right?

“Uhm, did you perhaps get a letter today? From me?” You find your voice finally, albeit it’s more high-pitched than normally as you awkwardly choose your words to sound as vague as possible. Dongmin stares at you nonchalantly before reaching for somewhere behind his back and holds an envelope ‒ your letter! ‒ out for you.

“You mean this?”

“Yes, exactly! Can I have it back?” You get excited and relieved, reaching for the paper only for Dongmin to raise it higher, out of your reach. You pout as you pull your hand back and dare to look the boy in the eyes as you pose the question you’re afraid to hear the answer for. “Or… did you read it already?”

Dongmin looks at you impassively, eyes searching as if he’s trying to figure you and your intentions out. Then he shrugs.

“What? The part about my beautiful eyes or that I drive you crazy?” He asks with one corner of his mouth lifting cockily as he quotes your words and you are going to have to dig a grave for yourself. Especially because both statements are still very much true apparently.

“Shh!” You hiss and you don’t even know what comes over you when you push at his chest with enough force (and the element of surprise) to push him back inside his room and you slip in too, quickly closing the door behind you before his family could hear what you’re talking about.

A moment later you realize what exactly you have done and your eyes widen at your own brazen behaviour. Based on the confused, dumbfounded look on Dongmin’s face you managed to surprise him too.

“Uhm, your mom made this for you,” you clear your throat as you push the bowl of fruits into his hands and look anywhere but his face. Which in turn results in looking around in his room that’s very like him. Band posters on the wall, concert tickets half-filling a glass jar, a keyboard by the desk, CSAT preparation books on the shelf, clothes thrown on the bed…

“Look Y/N,” he starts, his voice deeper than you remembered. But again, when was the last time you had a proper conversation other than hellos when running into each other in the corridor? “About your letter. I'm flattered but…”

“Don’t be!” You cut him off before he could reject you. Even if it’s years late and you aren’t crushing on him anymore, it would hurt your feelings, so you would rather not hear it. “You’re not the only one. I’ve written four letters.”

“Damn, Y/N. Is this some kind of prank?” Dongmin furrows his brows. He looks like he can’t decide whether he should be amused or annoyed by the sudden turn of events. You’re not sure which would be worse.

“I wish it was. My mom mailed my deliberately unsent love letters,” you sigh, face buried in your hands while Han Dongmin has the audacity to let out a short laugh.

“So who are the others then?” He asks casually while sitting down at his desk chair, putting the fruit bowl next to his laptop. Then he turns to you and motions for you to sit down or whatever that vague hand movement is supposed to be but you’re too busy fiddling with your fingers while hovering by his door, half-ready to flee.

“Uhm, Kim Donghyun from a science camp back in middle school, Lee Chanyoung from a holiday resort we went to in Jeju last summer and Park Sunghee’s brother,” you list, counting each name on your fingers. You aren’t even sure why you’re telling him this. Maybe you just want to get this off your chest and it’s not like he would post about it on his social media for laughs. He rarely posts anything unrelated to his band anyways. Plus he doesn’t even know these guys…

“Park Sunghoon? Isn’t he too old for you?” Dongmin raises a brow and you want to smack yourself. Of course, he knows him, they went to the same all boys school. It’s the best high school in the neighbourhood after all.

“Yah! He’s just two years older than us,” you correct him, defensive.

“Whatever,” Dongmin shrugs. Then he eyes the envelope slipped under the fruit bowl and mortification washes through you again. You don’t even remember half the things you wrote but you certainly remember pointing out that you were sure his band’s popularity would get to his head and that’s why it was better for you to not like him anymore. You cringe at yourself because a year and half and a few dozen screaming girl fans later, Han Dongmin seems still as laid back as ever behind his Taesan persona. “So you came to take it back before I could read it?”

“Well, yeah,” you admit, not seeing a reason to lie. It’s not like this could get any more embarrassing. “Though honestly I wasn’t really thinking. I only noticed the letters missing literally ten minutes ago.”

Dongmin hums like he finds it interesting which is funny because most of the time he looks like he doesn’t give a damn about anything. Except when it comes to music. Shit, what if he’s thinking of turning this situation into a song? He should credit you for inspiration.

“And what are you planning now? Will you break down the other three guys’ doors too?” He asks and it’s teasing, taunting. You can tell he’s pretty much laughing at you behind his raised eyebrow and curious eyes.

To be real, you weren’t thinking that far ahead yet.

“How fast do you think the Korean postal service is?” You purse your lips.

“Wait. You don’t actually plan to steal the letters back from their mailbox, right?” Dongmin scoffs but you might be considering it, so your silence is enough of an answer. “Oh you do.”

“I don’t want them to read it,” you throw your hands in the air. Just thinking about it gives you a headache and anxiety. “It’s bad enough that you read yours and now everytime we will meet, I will overthink it because you know I used to have a crush on you but I’m still friends with Sunghee and it will be even more awkward if she gets to know I liked her brother. Gosh, I should have dated my letters. Now Donghyun will think I wrote it now and not when we were fourteen.”

The more you think about it, the worse the situation is. You shudder just thinking about how cringe your letters could be looking back. Especially the one you wrote at the prime time of middle school.

“You know, maybe instead of dating them, you should have not written down the addresses,” the boy across from you points out, oh so very helpful.

“Wow, good advice, thanks. I will keep that in mind next time,” you deadpan and decide that it’s been enough of an embarrassment for a lifetime in front of the neighbourhood’s resident cool boy. You need to come up with a plan on how to get the letter back from the Park family before they could open it or forward it to Sunghoon abroad. “Anyways, I’ll be going then. Can I, please, have my letter back?”

You hold out your hand, trying your best puppy eyes at the guy but Dongmin doesn’t budge.

“Nah. It’s my letter now.”

You scowl but after a few long moments of staring contest that has you hot in the cheeks, you let out a deep sigh. He has already read it, it doesn’t really matter anymore.

“Okay, bye then,” you roll your eyes and let yourself out of his room, bowing awkwardly to his mother when you pass by her and face plant yourself into your bed once you’re alone again. Stupid Han Dongmin and his amused crooked smile and pretty brown eyes. Why did he have to read it?

You plan to get back Sunghoon’s letter via Sunghee and it goes smoother than expected.

You text the girl asking about the letter and tell her not to open it or send it to her brother because it’s just a prank someone pulled on you. If Taesan gave you the idea, she doesn’t have to know nor about the white lie. It’s in the afternoon when Sunghee texts you that they just got the mail and you decide to meet up both to catch up and get the letter back. Like the sweetheart she is, Sunghee offers to throw it out but you don’t want to leave anything to chance, so you meet in a cute café, drink way too sweet winter lattes and talk about post-graduation plans.

You’re walking back to the apartment complex from the bus stop with your letter safely tucked inside your bag when you spot the unmistakably tall figure of your neighbour in the nearby park, playing football with his little brother. At least the younger boy wears a puffy coat, gloves and beanie all tucked in but Dongmin, who has always acted a bit like the street was his runway, wears jeans, a wool coat half open and only a long, fluffy scarf pulled up to half-cover his already reddened, cold-bitten ears, February cold be damned. He has his hands in his pocket as he lazily kicks the ball back to his brother but it passes him by. That’s when his eyes meet yours and you react a tad bit too late to convince him that you weren’t staring. Luckily, he doesn’t call you out.

“Mission success?” He yells over to you though and it’s so silly. Why does he even care?

“Yeah,” you nod anyway and you’re about to ask how come he’s not cold when his little brother tugs on his coat sleeve.

“Hyung, can we go back inside now? I'm freezing. Why did you even wante‒”

“Sure, back we go,” Dongmin cuts him off hurriedly and you pretend not to pay attention to their brotherly bickering. You’re surprised to hear that this time it was the older who insisted on playing outside because usually it’s the other way around based on what you have heard before but it doesn’t concern you, so you just follow the two boys, watching maybe a bit too fondly as Dongmin ruffles his brother’s hair when he takes off his beanie inside the building. On the second floor, the older boy steps to their door to key in the code and ushers (meaning: lightly push) his brother inside. Before you could do the same down the corridor, he turns to you after the closing beep of their door.

“So what’s next?”

Once again you’re taken aback that he seems so invested in the mess you've gotten yourself into but it’s not like you have anybody to tell about these things. Normally you would gossip about boy things with Sunghee but since she can’t know about her brother being concerned, you would rather keep it to yourself. Or well, since Dongmin’s asking…

“Well, Sunghee got the letter today on the other side of the town, so I’m assuming that Donghyun’s will arrive in Busan tomorrow. So…” You explain, running on the adrenalin of successfully getting back one of the letters.

“Wait, Busan?” Dongmin interrupts, furrowing his eyebrows, confused. Oh, right. You only told him about the science camp.

“Yeah, he lives there or at least used to, four years ago. So I’m thinking of catching an early bus tomorrow,” you tell him about the plan you made up during your way home from Sunghee. Taking an express bus is the fastest and cheapest way to get to Busan and make it a quick day trip. Even if the letter’s not there, you will just ask the person who lives in that house to mail it back to you when they get it. If you still have time to kill, maybe you can even go down to the beach to make it seem like you’re a sane person and you wouldn’t travel 3 hours back and forth just to get a letter back.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to look him up online?” Dongmin, the voice of reason as always, asks and you look at him unimpressed. Does he really think it didn’t cross your mind at all?

“I tried! He either has no social media presence or at least not with his real name,” you pout because seriously just how many Kim Donghyuns could there be for you to not find the one you’re looking for?

Your neighbour apparently didn’t run out of his questions though and you can see genuine, bewildered curiosity on his face when he asks:

“How do you even know his address still after four years?”

That’s a fair question (and you hate that all he asks are logical questions actually). Considering that you were fourteen when you wrote it, you should have long forgotten the exact address of your ex-crush but lucky for you, you have it written down in your dusty notebook under lock and key.

“Uhm, I might have it in my old diary. We were supposed to become pen pals after the camp but well, life happens,” you mutter, feeling a bit self-conscious admitting that yes, you are one of those girls who have written diaries. But Dongmin doesn’t judge, not for that.

“You mean, you never wrote to him,” he raises an eyebrow challengingly and it triggers a defensive reaction out of you.

“He never wrote to me either!”

“Well, good luck then, Miss Letter Thief,” he waves and slips inside their apartment before you could come up with a good retort and the way he always seems to have the last word makes you want to tackle him down in the old-fashioned kindergartener way just to shut him up. Jeez, good thing you got over him so long ago because he’s dancing on your nerves.

Even though your mother doesn’t try to hide the fact that she thinks you’re acting a bit too dramatic over ‘some letters’, she at least looks sheepish and doesn’t stop you when you tell her that you will go to Busan in the morning and come back in the evening. She even packs you snacks for the long bus ride and you throw a book into your bag as if you wouldn’t fall asleep ten minutes into the journey.

The Sun has been barely out when you leave the apartment, rubbing your palms together while you stand in the bus stop and wait for the local bus to take you to the terminal. A movement catches your eyes on the window next to yours but you think you just imagined it until the building’s door opens and Dongmin rushes out in his long coat that makes him even taller than he already is. You turn to him suspiciously when he stops a good two meters from you at the bus stop because what the hell he’s doing there at seven in the morning during winter break. You stop yourself from questioning him though because the bus pulls up in front of you soon enough and he sits behind you on the vehicle, so you don’t see where he gets off.

With upbeat music playing from your earbuds, you almost forget about him by the time you get to the bus terminal. Luckily the queue at the counter is not too long, so you manage to buy a ticket to Busan before the next one leaves. You barely get comfortable in your window seat when the aisle one next to you is taken even though there are plenty of available seats in the unreserved area due to the morning hour.

You look at the sudden occupant and your eyes widen in realization.

“What are you doing?” You shriek a little louder than what’s publicly acceptable, so you immediately apologize to the other, sleepy-looking travellers.

“What? Can’t a guy go to Busan to check out this one music store?” Dongmin shrugs nonchalantly and it’s your turn to raise an eyebrow at his nonsense answer. He really doesn’t seem like the spontaneous type but admittedly, you don’t know him that well. You didn’t have to know him to catch feelings after all.

If you wanted to be honest, a few encounters around the apartment building was enough to get interested in him, even more so when you got to know that he had a band and your crush became embarrassing when you dragged your friends to the local festival where the band performed. Even though their music style isn’t really your go-to genre, he just looked so cool on stage, really in his element, very unlike the usual distant demeanor he greeted you with around the house. Then Minah started dating their drummer and you saw the band on stage a few more times, getting to love their music more and more, hanging out sometimes as parts of a bigger friend group until that one party where you saw your school’s most popular girl throw herself at Dongmin. The taste of unreasonable jealousy was all it took to snap out of it and forget about the boy’s pretty eyes, beautiful voice and rare smiles you treasured. Minah and Wonjin broke up around the same time, so at least you had an excuse not to see him more than necessary around the house.

So yeah, you probably talked more with him in the last two days than ever before and he has certainly never acted like this around you. It was getting suspicious.

“Han Dongmin… are you coming with me to make sure I don’t go alone?” You question because you really don’t know what to make of it and you can’t help but let your voice take on a playful tone.

“Pff…” The boy snorts and then looks at you with his practiced deadpan face. “I’m going, so I can laugh at how you embarrass yourself in front of this Donghyun guy.”

You roll your eyes at him. He thinks he’s so funny, huh?

“For real, why are you tagging along?” You try to come off as at least a bit authoritative with your crossed arms and serious face but it probably doesn’t work. Dongmin answers anyway.

“Because I don’t have more exciting plans for the break and it’s fun enough,” he shrugs as he slides down in his seat a bit to get more comfortable with his height. He fixes the hoodie over his head and turns his head against the backrest, looking like he’s about to go to sleep after telling you that while there you are with a hand over your heart. 

“Are my love letters funny to you?” You gasp, dramatic on purpose but a part of you really wants to shove him outside of his seat (of course, you won’t do it, not now that you’re on the highway already).

“I mean it was pretty funny that you misspelled the word gorgeous twice in mine.”

He says it so matter-of-factly but you desperately wish that he’s just teasing or else it’s mortifying that you couldn’t spell that correctly when you were almost seventeen.

“I was nervous! And it’s a difficult word to spell!” You splutter.

Seriously, what’s it about him that makes you so defensive all the time? Especially when he’s nothing but casual about your old love letter? Or is it exactly because of that?

“Do I make you nervous?” Dongmin raises an eyebrow at you with an almost smile on his lips and for a moment you’re speechless because you can’t tell whether it’s supposed to be teasing or flirty.

“I was once young and naive,” you tell him, refusing to answer because if you wanted to be honest (you don’t), then yes, he makes you very nervous, especially when he holds eye contact so long that you have to look away and stare out of the window instead.

“If you say so,” he hums and you refuse to give him the satisfaction of answering. You turn the music back on in your app and try to nap a little.

Dongmin must have the same idea because when you look his way the next time he’s peacefully sleeping. You know you shouldn’t but you can’t help but take in every small mole on his face and the curl of his eyelashes. Gosh, how is it possible that he’s even more handsome now than before?

When he stirs, you quickly look away and fish out the sliced fruits and hotteoks your mom prepared, offering to share them but Dongmin dismisses it with a shake of his head.

“What’s the order of the letters?” He asks instead when your cheeks are puffed with the sweet food but you decide to entertain him anyway.

“Donghyun’s the first, obviously. It was a two week long camp and he was the cutest boy I had ever seen. I knew I would never see him again, so I wrote that letter when I got back home. Then I befriended Sunghee in high school and met Sunghoon when I was over at hers. I had one actual conversation with him and imagined our entire lives together until he graduated and went abroad. Then I wrote yours in second year and I met Chanyoung last summer over the vacation my family went to in Jeju,” you list them off and it seems to put the boy into thinking mode because he’s quiet for a short while, letting you eat in peace.

“You don’t get crushes when there’s an actual chance of dating them? You barely interacted with any of these guys,” he points out and then gestures between him and you. “We never really talked either before this and then you stopped liking me because I ‘got too popular’,” he adds drawing ditto marks in the air probably quoting from your letter which makes you wince quietly.

You might have written to him that you got over your crush on him when their band started getting more attention, claiming that arrogant rock stars aren't your type. You certainly didn’t go into details about how their song about liking a popular girl made you feel stupidly jealous, especially after seeing him with Yein.

“It’s safer like this,” you shrug, casting your eyes down. “I like the idea of romance, like in books and movies, but not the reality of it.”

Real romance is scary. Full of rejection, heartbreak and embarrassment.

It might be the songwriter in him but Dongmin sounds intrigued to say the least.

“So you don’t actually have real crushes. You like the version of the guys you make up in your head,” he says like you’re a puzzle to solve and he’s slowly figuring you out. You don’t know how to feel about that.

“The way you say it sounds bad but… aren’t all crushes like that? You don’t have to know the person to like them,” you say and it’s funny because you never really thought about your feelings this way. But it’s true that even if you have had your fair share of crushes, none of them were very deep. You would never admit it to him but actually your ‘Dongmin phase’ was the longest but you can’t be sure whether it’s because he has been a permanent fixture in your life unlike the other boys or something else.

“I don’t know. To me, that’s just attraction. You can like them for who they are only when you get to know them,” he says and he sounds like he did think about it before.

“You don’t believe in love at first sight, huh?”

“Yeah, no,” Dongmin shakes his head and pops a piece of grape into his mouth from your snack box. You scoff but hold it closer to him and the rest of the ride is spent in relative silence interrupted by occasional short conversations.

This is how you get to know that the boy has been in Busan before with his family, so you pretty much let him lead when you get to the bus terminal in the coastal city because you’re not the best with direction. Dongmin has to stop you by holding on to your scarf when you almost get on the subway in the wrong direction and teases you about how you will get around in Seoul like that. You shrug, not worrying about it much since you will have enough time to learn getting around in a big city like the capital.

For now, you’re navigating through Busan on this impromptu day trip and you’re kind of glad you are not doing this alone. Not just because you would have most likely gotten lost a few times but because Donghyun’s address is almost an hour more away from the bus terminal and time flies faster while you talk with Dongmin. It’s nothing special, just your likes and dislikes, high school drama, sibling anecdotes and such but you find yourself smiling and laughing more often than not. When your shoulders brush at an abrupt stop of the subway car, you pull away shyly and something stirs in your chest, something familiar and almost forgotten.

By the time you get to the address written in your cute pink diary, you almost forget about the main reason why you’re here. You can’t decide whether fate is on your side or not when you manage to bump into a vaguely familiar figure on the ground floor of the building with a very much familiar letter in his hand among others.

“Donghyun!” You shriek in realization, resisting the urge to yank the letter out of his hand. He definitely grew up, almost as tall as Dongmin behind you, hair longer, covering his ears but his eyes are the same.

“Uhm… sorry, do we know each other?” He furrows his eyebrows, visibly confused. Dongmin tries to cover his snort-like laugh with a cough behind you which really doesn’t help with your embarrassment.

“Oh, I’m Y/N. From science camp four years ago,” you introduce yourself a tad bit awkwardly but luckily that’s all it takes for the boy to recognize you because his face brightens.

“Oh, hey! What are you doing here? Came to check out the Sealife Aquarium?” He asks, almost excited, and you find it cute that he didn’t lose his childhood fascination with such things.

“Uhm, actually I came for that,” you point at the mail in his hands which leaves the boy confused once again.

“Our electricity bill?”

“No, dude, the prank letter you just got with her name on it,” Dongmin speaks up from behind you and you can tell just from his voice alone that he’s rolling his eyes. But it gets Donghyun to check out the envelopes in his hand and nonchalantly gives you the one addressed to him from you, like he doesn’t even care what’s in it. But when you actually take it, he leans in closer.

“You’ve got a scary boyfriend,” he whispers just as casually, so only you could hear it and you can only splutter in shock while he pulls back and jogs up the stairs with the other letters in hand.

“Thanks,” you clear your throat as you turn to Dongmin who looks as nonchalant as ever.

“For what?”

“For not telling him that it’s a love letter,” you explain, which makes the boy shrug. He opens the door for you and points towards the metro station.

“I’m choosing lunch then,” he says and you laugh at his logic, but follow him anyway. He still asks if you’re okay with Korean food and since you’re not picky, you let him choose whatever he craves.

You end up at a jjigae place, the warmth of boiling spicy soup filling you up and you blame the heat in your cheeks on it, definitely not in the casual way Dongmin serves you water or opens the hot rice bowl for you as if it’s nothing.

“So only Jeju’s left,” he comments between two spoonfuls of kimchi jjigae. Looking at you from across the table, he almost challenges you: “Tell me you’re not seriously considering flying there.”

“I mean there’s also a ferry…” You make a thinking face just for the sake of it but laugh at your own ridiculous idea and the face Dongmin makes. “Okay, okay, I know. He probably received the letter already anyway.”

You shrug casually and the boy seems surprised and maybe a bit impressed too. Getting back two letters out of four is actually a better ratio than you expected and you care surprisingly less about Chanyoung receiving his now. What’s the worst thing that can happen? Nothing much. Like Dongmin got his own and he doesn’t act weird about it. At least he certainly doesn’t avoid you or looks at you as if you were crazy like you would have thought so. He’s actually quite… kind about it. Without the letter you surely wouldn’t have spent this much time with him nor would he have joined you on this spontaneous day trip either. Speaking of which…

“Do you actually have a music store you want to check out here? We have time, so we might as well look for it,” you say, eyes on your food, blowing on the soup to make sure you don’t burn your tongue. When your suggestion is followed by silence, you look up self-consciously and fidget with a stand of hair hanging in your face. The look of surprise is clearly written on the boy’s face but when your eyes meet, he recovers quickly, shoving the rice sitting on his spoon into his mouth before taking out his phone and showing you the Instagram page of this cool store he found. You drop down your gaze from his face to his phone, feeling heat creeping into your cheeks once again as both of you lean forward over the table.

Luckily, in the winter cold outside it doesn’t stand out. Dongmin’s nose, cheeks and ears also redden by the time you make it to the music store by the sea. You look over the vinyl collection with him, asking about his favorites, inspirations and such, and while you don’t know half the bands he mentions listening to him talk has something special in it. It’s actually cute how enthusiastic he gets as he talks about music, like sure he’s all cool and nonchalant but still, you can tell he’s excited beneath that facade and…

Wait. Did you just call Han Dongmin, cool, mysterious, plays in a band neighbour, cute?

But how can you not when he walks out of that store with a new LP and a happy smile he tries to suppress when you look his way or when he’s like oh, yeah, sure, let’s go down the beach and there he is shivering from the wind like a rain-soaked black cat because he’s too cool to wear gloves even if he has ice americano in his hands unlike your hot hazelnut latte that’s warming your body and soul or the way he tries to secretly take pictures of you with your wind-blown hair in your face, laughing when you chase him down the waterfront or how he hesitates to accept the hot pack from you on your way back to the bus terminal but immediately switches places with you when a car passes by you a bit scarily close. It’s a totally new side of him that you’re discovering and you aren’t sure how to feel about it, about realizing that he isn’t the kind of guy you imagined him to be.

He’s so much more and so much better.

On your way back to Gwangju, he steals one of your earbuds and makes a comment on your music taste and you bicker about that half the journey but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your cheeks almost hurt from laughing so much when you notice new notifications on your phone and the device almost falls out of your hands.

chnyng_lee started following you. chnyng_lee hi yn! i got your letter…

“Oh my god!” You whisper-yell when you see the beginning of the message received, then quickly cover your mouth with your hand and pull the phone to your chest as if not seeing it would make it go away.

“What?” Dongmin asks with worry evident in his voice but you’re swimming too deep in embarrassment to detect it.

“Chanyoung just texted me,” you explain, still in shock and the moment it leaves your mouth, something shifts in the air. The previous light atmosphere turns heavier.

“Ah, Jeju boy?” Dongmin mutters, force nonchalance draped over his words as he turns to look ahead before silence settles on you both.

You take three long, deep breaths before unlocking your phone and opening the app to read through Chanyoung’s message properly. He’s so sweet, just how you remembered, telling you that of course he remembers you and he doesn’t think that your first meeting with you falling into the pool and him having to pull you out was awkward. He says it’s cute that you wrote to him even though you got over your crush and asks about your winter break. A sweetheart, really.

You find yourself chuckling fondly over his shy reactions and coo when he tells you about the group of elementary students he taught swimming that day. You want to show the video he sent to Dongmin too but he’s fast asleep next to you, so you spend the rest of the ride chatting with the cute boy who saved you back in Jeju.

Dongmin is quiet on the local bus too after you transfer in Gwangju but when you ask about it, he says he’s just tired, so you leave him be until you reach the apartment complex.

“Thanks for coming with me today. I… had fun,” you admit, more bashful than you would have liked to but the guy’s back to his distanced attitude, so he doesn’t even tease you about it.

“Sure, no problem,” he shrugs, seemingly eager to leave and you don't know why it bothers you so much but after everything that happened that day it’s his sudden change in behaviour that keeps you awake at night.

You wouldn’t say Dongmin avoids you. It’s more like things go back to normal. You have spent the last few years rarely running into him, so really, it shouldn’t annoy you. Still, whenever you leave the house, you find yourself looking for him and whenever you’re in your room you wait to hear his music through the thin wall between your rooms. 

It’s a random weekday evening when you run into him as you take out the recycled trash and he’s just coming inside the building.  It’s awkward, both the silence and the small talk idea but eventually it’s him who breaks the silence as he holds the door open for you:

“So how are things going with loverboy?” 

“Who?” You blink at him in surprise before realizing that he must be referring to Chanyoung with that weird nickname. “Oh, good. We’re thinking of meeting up in Seoul. He’s going there to uni as well.”

It’s actually crazy that in about a week you will be in the busy center of Seoul, getting ready for orientation week and trying not to get overwhelmed by everything that university life throws your way. You’re about to ask Dongmin when he will move to his dorm but before you could do so, he just hums and passes you by.

You refuse to think too much into it nor you allow yourself to mourn the closeness you unexpectedly found with the boy for it to turn out to be merely a fleeting experience. You cannot miss him suddenly, that’s ridiculous.

You can’t be desperate enough to wish it’s him knocking on the door two days later, can you?

“Uhm, hi!” You smile a tad bit awkwardly while looking down at Dongmin’s little brother standing on your doormat wearing a Kakao Friends Ryan patterned tee and a determined look on his face.

“Noona, can you please talk with hyung?” He asks and when he mentions his brother you can’t help but glance towards their closed door, chest heavy with unsaid feelings.

“Uhm, why?” You question curiously but keep your tone light and friendly, so the boy would know you aren’t dismissing his request, you just find it strange and unexpected. You aren’t that close to Dongmin after all.

“He listens to a lot of sad and angry music,” the boy sighs as if it was the world’s biggest problem and you have to fight a chuckle at how cute it is that he’s worried about his brother because of the music he listens to.

“Isn’t that normal for him though?” You find yourself asking because you do hear music through the wall between the two apartments from time to time and describing some of it as ‘sad and angry’ wouldn’t be far from the truth.

“Yeah, but even more than usual,” the little boy pouts and sighs again, all the world’s weight on his young shoulders. “And he says you can’t come over because you’re busy with your boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you frown, confused where Dongmin got that from. Does he think that you texting with Chanyoung automatically meant you got yourself a boyfriend? Did he miss the fact that the letter for him was also written after getting over your crush on him? Oh come on, he knows you had four crushes over four years and never got a boyfriend, so what makes him think two days changed it all? And even if you had a boyfriend, what’s it to him unless… Wait, is he jealous?

“Then can you come over to play? We need four players,” Dongmin’s brother voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you let yourself be roped into a game of charades in their living room.

Needless to say your ex-crush is taken aback to see you there but he apparently doesn’t have the heart to say no to his siblings when it comes to playing a game. You pair up with his little sister who is seriously the cutest with her pigtails and excitement but her drawings are more postmodern than anything exhibited in galleries and you can’t for the life of you figure those out. Dongmin and his brother are a good team though but the eldest always makes sure that their little sister doesn’t feel bad about being on the losing team which in turn obviously means that he teases you about it instead. You still have a lot of fun though, so when you leave once it’s bedtime for the younger ones, you are giddy and high on sugar from Dongmin’s mom’s heavenly chocolate pudding.

“Sorry that my brother dragged you over,” Dongmin apologises once their entrance door closes behind him and you two stand in the corridor. You didn’t expect him to come after you despite his mother’s obvious suggestions because come on, you literally live next door, you don’t need him to walk you home. But you don't mind it because unlike your last encounter, he doesn’t seem to have his guards up making him much more approachable. Even if there’s nothing more to it, it would be nice to be friends with him, not just neighbours who pass each other by.

“No problem, it was fun,” you reassure him with a smile and don’t let the silence settle on your duo for too long. “Maybe we should make it a tradition in Seoul too, ask Chanyoung and Yoonah to join us.”

There’s definitely intent behind your words as you gawk at the guy’s reaction like a nature photographer waiting for something to happen in the wild and you can clearly see a bit of frustration blended with confusion on his face before he schools his expression back into cool nonchalance.

“Who’s Yoonah?” He asks predictably which makes your smile wider because being able to guess his reaction is almost like you know him.

“Chanyoung’s girlfriend! Didn’t I tell you? She’s so cool,” you chirp and pull up your Instagram app to show him a lovely picture of the two. Dongmin acts like he doesn’t care but he doesn’t stop you and somehow the air between you feels much lighter.

You tell him what you know about the couple’s plans in Seoul and somehow, in the middle of it all, you end up sitting on the cold concrete stairs right between your two homes and talk about the upcoming changes in your lives. You share how weird it feels to leave behind Gwangju, the only place you have really known in your life for an unknown city where you don’t know anybody. Sure, some of your classmates also move to the capital but none of your close friends, so it feels a bit like a fresh start which is both scary and exciting. He’s in similar shoes except that he has always had dreams of moving to a bigger, busier city, so he can’t wait to start his life in Seoul.

“As expected of Han Taesan. Fearless as always,” you note with a smile playing on your lips without thinking and you don’t even notice your slip-up until Dongmin points it out.

“You called me Taesan,” he says, his dark eyes wide and surprised.

“Ah right. Was I not supposed to?” You ask sheepishly because you have heard most of his friends call him Taesan as well as girls in your school who knew his band.

“No, it’s just…” The boy trails off, ruffling his hair, avoiding your eyes. “In your letter you said it’s cringe that I took up a nickname when we started the band.”

You wince audibly when he once again reminds you of a part of that infamous letter you don’t even remember and now you’re mature enough to admit that part of it was written out of petty jealousy due to his skyrocketing popularity among girls.

“I wrote that a long time ago. I got used to Taesan since,” you explain, drumming your fingers on your knee pads just to do something with them while the boy nods and seemingly contemplates your words. He sounds almost shy as he admits:

“I like it when you call me Dongmin.”

And if your breath hitches at that, it goes unheard by everybody but you because your upper level neighbour chooses that moment to arrive and complain about the two of you ‘barricading’ the entire staircase. Amidst polite apologies you say goodbye to each other and in the safety of your room, only one wall away from Dongmin, you can admit to yourself that maybe you’re not that over your crush on him as you thought.

Realizing that you still (or well again) have a crush on the boy next door doesn’t make things easier for you. Especially because in less than a week both of you are set to go to Seoul for different universities and if living next door with your schools across each other you managed to not interact all too much over these years, you fear being in the same city won’t make it easier to run into the enigma that is Han Dongmin.

It’s different this time though because you’re friends. Kind of. You text sometimes about random things like a black cat in the snow video that reminds you of him while he sends you music recs ‘to educate you on good taste’. You are over at his place every other day to play board games with him and his siblings or play snow fights in the newly fallen snow.

Like right now, when the two of you sit on one of the swing sets at the playground watching the two kids trying to build a snowman that will melt by tomorrow. It’s cold, you feel it sweep into your bones as your gloved hands hold the metal chain of the swing, barely swaying in place. It’s comfortable, sharing silence with Dongmin by your side but you like it better when he speaks, when he talks to you, when he looks at you which he doesn’t do, not now, not since he chased you down with a handful of snow only to drop it when you slipped and he caught you. Which eventually left you just chilling on the swings before either of you breaks a bone a few days before the semester starts.

“What are you doing tomorrow evening?” Dongmin speaks up in his usual, casual tone, the tone that’s passive enough for you to think that he doesn’t really care about the answer but you know it better now, it’s all just a facade.

“Nothing much, maybe watch a movie. Why?” You lean forward, holding your weight by the chains to be able to look at him even if he doesn’t turn your way.

“Would you like to come to the band’s last gig?” He asks eventually and your eyes widen, heartbeat starting to act up for no reason at all.

“Yeah, of course!” You answer, not even hesitating but you have to ask: “Last though?”

“Well, for now. We will be pretty scattered around the country once the semester starts,” Dongmin explains to your tentative question. You don’t even know how much of a relief it is until you hear it because somehow it’s hard to imagine him without music, without his band.

“Ah, okay, that’s good.”

Now that makes Dongmin look at you, all intrigued as if asking what’s it to you and it makes you flustered because heck now you have to explain yourself.

“It’s just… you’re good. You shouldn’t give up on music, especially when you like it so much,” you say, looking away, sitting back on the swing, kicking the ground a bit to give yourself momentum.

“Not worried anymore that I would become an arrogant all too popular rockstar?” The boy asks in a clearly teasing tone.

You sigh exaggeratedly and nudge him in the side but he just laughs. Of course he would use your letter against you, but for some reason it doesn’t bother you that much anymore and no, you’re not worried about that either. You’re more worried about moving to Seoul and drifting apart, losing the closeness you have now. Maybe that’s why he isn’t saying anything more either, that’s why you don’t address his unreasonable jealousy over Chanyoung or all those late night talks, the lingering looks and diverting glances. It’s not just a crush anymore, you’re one confession away from making it real because for the first time since you developed all those crushes you feel like it’s worth the risk. Dongmin is worth the risk of getting your heart broken.

The next morning Dongmin texts you to let you know that they will have a last minute practice with the band, so he just sends you the location of the local art café they will perform at on Naver Maps. You answer with a bit too excited ‘see you there!!’ which you immediately regret until he sends a heart reaction to the message. It has you squealing even when you see the icon turn into a simple like and he claims that his fingers slipped. Just to tease him, you tap a like on that message.  

You definitely make a bigger deal out of choosing an outfit for the gig than you probably should. You even ask for Sunghee’s opinion over a video call and in a weak moment of yours, you ask her to go with you but she just snorts and tells you that she doesn’t want to be stuck as the awkward third wheel when you eventually leave with ‘your neighbour boy’. You protest because why would you leave with him? But at the same time you kind of wish that you would. You live next to each other, wouldn’t it make sense? Are you too hopeful?

Scratch that! You’re young once and you swore to yourself that you won’t let insecurity or fears hold you back this time. You’re allowed to be a bit delulu sometimes.

You get to the café just in time for the performance to start. You’re still terrible with directions when it comes to new places but you calculated with that beforehand, so it’s all good. You order a dalgona latte, sweet on your teeth and warm in your hands, and settle down at a table close to the cozy winter-decorated stage where the band does last minute tuning and setup checks. You look around and see a few familiar faces from your school as well as some guys from Dongmin’s rare Instagram stories. They all cheer when the lead singer introduces the band and they start with an upbeat, alternative rock-style song. He might not sing the most but your eyes are glued to Dongmin behind the keyboard, at the way he is bobbing his head to the beat or the way he smirks when the audience reacts to certain parts, clearly enjoying it all and that’s what matters the most to you. They perform quite a few songs and you enjoy it thoroughly, regretting a bit that you stopped listening to their new stuff in the middle of second year, thinking it would be easier to move on from your crush like that. And look at how that turned out.

You have so much fun watching Dongmin perform that you aren’t even disappointed that you don’t get your own ‘Y/N moment’ by locking eyes with him through the crowd mid-song. At least not until it’s his turn to introduce the upcoming song after all the other members have already spoken between sets. 

“The last song we have for today is a new one. It’s called Just you and me and it’s a bit unpolished but I wanted to perform it tonight,” he says into the microphone propped above his keyboard and glances at you right when the audience starts clapping. You’re pinned to place by his gaze and can’t look away, not even after he does, not when he grabs the microphone and starts singing.

The song is not heavily instrumental, there’s only a soft guitar layer and a simple beat of drums from the chorus, but it stands out because Dongmin sings the whole thing and its lyrics are much sweeter than their usual songs. It sounds like a confession, echoing your own heartbeat.

When it ends, the band says thanks for all the support and drops their social media info, so fans can follow their journey along even when they are not active in Gwangju anymore. Some people, probably friends and family, go up to them to chat while they pack their instruments. You contemplate whether you should say hi to Dongmin or wait it out but you don’t have to worry about that for long because he soon comes to find you by your table.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you beam at him brightly despite the nervous butterflies in your stomach. “You were great up there. I loved the new song a lot.”

“That’s good,” he hums, looking just a bit shy with his downcast eyes and boxy smile, so different from the usual confidence he exudes on stage or when he’s teasing you.

Maybe that’s where the sudden courage comes from, the urge that prompts you to ask:

“Was it… a love song?”

Your tone is tentative, not too pushy, not too hopeful, but Dongmin’s gaze finds yours, earnest but amused, very much like him.

“Maybe. Somebody said she likes movie-like romance,” he shrugs, his smile turning smug when he notices the blush painting your cheeks. This time, you can’t blame it on the cold.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dongmin confirms and clears his throat, clearly out of his element a bit. “Are you heading home now? Cause if you wait a bit, we can go together.” 

You nod shyly and send him off to pack and say goodbye to his friends. Before you know it, you’re on your way back, talking about the band’s future plans, places he already knows he wants to check out in Seoul, how your dad plans to take you to move into the dorms by car and your mother is already emotional about it. You don’t talk about love songs and confessions, the possibility of a future together. However, you don’t want to say goodbye tonight without acknowledging your feelings out loud.

Dongmin unexpectedly beats you to it though. Once you’re in the corridor of the apartment building, he calls your name, reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a wrinkled envelope, handing it over to you. You see your name scribbled on the paper and for a moment you’re taken aback because you expected his handwriting to be almost unreadable, rushed and messy but it’s so spacey between characters that it’s cute, especially if he made the effort to make it readable for you.

“To make it fair that I have your letter,” he shrugs oh so casually and scratches his nape. “Just… don’t read it in front of me.”

“You just sang a love song in front of a crowd,” you remind him of his previous bravado which makes him groan in protest and you get it now why he likes it so much, teasing you.

“It’s different!”

“Okay, I will read it when I’m alone,” you promise, holding the envelope to your chest, a part of you wanting to run into your home so you could read it as soon as possible, another part not wanting to part from the boy. But curiosity is killing you. “Bye then?”

You turn, ready to head inside but before you could change your mind and let overthinking ruin your sudden bravery, you turn back to face Dongmin and pushing yourself to your tiptoes, you peck him on the cheek.

“Kiss like we do, huh?” You ask playfully, quoting a bit of his new song and dash inside your family home before Dongmin could react or see how red you get.

If his letter is unlike what you expect it to be, you will probably dig yourself a hole in the playground and hide forever for this but you let yourself hope as you hold your breath and unfold the paper in the safety of your room.

Dear Y/N,

I can’t write sappy letters like you but I can try because you like this stuff. Romantic gestures or whatever.

I know it’s late, that it’s been almost two years since you liked me but I still want to get this off my chest. I don’t know what would have happened if you confessed in our second year because I didn’t really know you. I didn’t know how you ramble when you’re nervous or that you have this cute habit of brushing your hair out of your eyes even if it isn’t there or that you have the prettiest laugh. You’re a bit crazy because who writes love letters complimenting my gorgeous (that’s how you spell it by the way) eyes at the same time as accusing me of becoming arrogant? Who travels to the other side of the country just to get their love letter back? Who stays over playing charades with my siblings on a random weekday?

Half the time you don’t make any sense and ever since you showed up at my door asking for your letter back, you’re driving me crazy.

Sincerely, Dongmin

P.S. But I like you (if it wasn’t clear)

You squeal. Loud enough for the boy to hear through the thin wall between you. He has the audacity to laugh which makes you grab your phone.

you: don’t laugh!! you: btw i like you too! you: again you: still you: if it wasn’t clear dongmin: so unromantic you: ??? dongmin: write me a letter back you: on it! you: ♥️

[pierregazly]

are you warm enough? ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x reader

warnings: reader has the flu, sad!reader over being sick [945 words]

request: Could I ask for a 💗 with Oscar and "Are you warm enough?" prompt?

note: oscar is def the type to take care of a sick partner?? i dont make the rules but it's true! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

It was inevitable it was going to hit you. It had struck through your entire workplace, through all your study groups. One by one, person by person, they were taken down. By a measly thing like the flu. You knew it was going to take you out, and you were going to hate every second of it.

Selfishly, you were hoping it would strike you the week Oscar was gone, not wanting to waste any of the short time that you did have with him by being confined to bed with a sickness that wouldn’t go away. Unluckily, just hours before his plane was scheduled to touchdown in Melbourne, you felt the tickle begin to climb in the back of your throat.

By the time Oscar’s bags were tossed through the front door of your apartment, you were curled up on the couch, a heated blanket over you while a half-empty cup of tea remained on the coffee table in front of you. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffed, your stomach was aching. You couldn’t keep any food down, and it felt like the apartment had hit negative temperatures in the few hours between waking up with a scratchy throat, and Oscar coming through the door.

“Honey, I’m home,” he singsonged, walking around the corner and stopping dead in his tracks when he observed your state.

You had told him about all the people who were getting sick at work, at school, about how you had been diligent about making sure you were washing your hands and keeping away from them. How you had told him how you didn’t want to ruin the little time the two of you were finally going to be able to spend together, so you were being extra careful.

Oscar felt the sympathy wash over him as he observed you peak out from underneath the blanket, a look of sadness etched around your face.

“Osc… you shouldn’t come close to me. I don’t want to get you sick, too,” you said.

Ignoring your words, Oscar moved closer to the couch before sitting down beside your sock-covered feet. He gently maneuvered them so they were placed over your lap, rubbing soothing circles on your now-exposed ankle.

“I’ll suffer if I have to. Can’t make you take care of yourself when you look like you might freeze to death if I even move this blanket.”

Just from the blanket simply touching his leg, he could feel the heat emitting off of it, the number ‘6’ displayed on the power screen, indicating it was at the highest level the blanket could reach. 

“Do you want me to make you another tea? Maybe go pick up some soup? I can give my mum a call, see if she can make any and drop it off? Does that sound good?”

Your only response was a nod of your head at every question he threw at you, you weren’t one to ask for help when you were sick, always able to simply take care of yourself. But the idea of getting off the couch, moving from the warmth of the blanket to go and make yourself a tea, or dig through the cupboards to find a can of soup… it just didn’t sound worth it, at all.

“I don’t want to bug your mum, if you pass me my phone I’ll just order some soup here. I can get you something too, real food. But you may not want to eat near me, I haven’t really been able to keep anything down either,” the sniffles after every few words had Oscar grimacing.

“Oh hush, mum always has leftover soup. Someone’s always sick around there, she’d be more than happy to drop it off. Let me go make you a cup of tea, and I’ll be right back.”

It didn’t take him long to tinker around the kitchen, throwing your favourite teabag into the mug and heating up the kettle; texting his mum in the process to inquire about any recent soups she may have made. Unsurprisingly, dad had been sick just days before, excess of his favourite soup in a Tupperware container in the freezer. Nicole had promised to get it thawed up and dropped off before sunset, a message of ‘get well soon, honey’ likely to be written in black ink on the lid.

Holding the warm cup of tea in front of your face, he gestured for you to sit up, a groan emitting from your body as you did so. Gently placing the cup into your hands, he sat down next to you, a small frown marring his face.

“Are you warm enough, baby? I can go pull down a few more blankets from the cupboards? Or turn the heating up?”

Shaking your head, you placed the mug down on the coffee table in front of you, before snuggling up into his side. 

“Can you just hold me? You’re always so warm, and I just want to be snuggled up with you, right now,” you said.

The arm that was pressed between your two bodies moved out of the grasp, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders before pulling you in closer to his body. 

“I’ll hold you whenever you want me to, even if you’re going to have to be the one to explain to the team why I have the flu next week.”

The only response you gave him was a shrug of your shoulders. You had already grappled with the fact you were probably going to get him sick, if you had to explain to the team why one of their prized driver’s was now sick… then so be it.

y'all... i didnt realize how popular oscar was until this celebration i have SO many requests for him lol. i hope everyone loves this, and as always, thank you for celebrating with me!!

[bloomzone]

THE "LUCKY VICKY" MINDSET !

The Lucky Vicky Mindset or jang wonyoung mindset was created by Jang Wonyoung herself combining "lucky" with her English name "Vicky" (stand for Victory )to share her positive mindset that it's abt choosing a perspective that helps you move forward with confidence so this mindset is about understanding that your attitude shapes your experiences and that seeing yourself as "lucky" isn’t about chance but about the way you navigate challenges, setbacks n success.cuz It’s easy to feel overwhelmed when things don’t go as planned. Whether it’s struggling in school, facing criticism, or dealing with self-doubt, the natural reaction is often frustration or discouragement. But if u shift by thinking like : What if, instead of seeing obstacles as signs of failure, you saw them as redirections toward something better?

This mindset isn’t about ignoring problems it’s about handling them with clarity and resilience. "So how do you develop it?" u need to :

ஐ - 𝟷. ʀᴇғʀᴀᴍɪɴɢ sᴇᴛʙᴀᴄᴋs

There will always be moments when things don’t go your way. Maybe you didn’t get the opportunity you wanted, maybe people misunderstand you, or maybe you feel like progress is slow. The lucky vicky Mindset teaches us that nothing is truly working against us—it’s just working differently than we expected.A well-known example what wonnie said "This happened during a tour when I visited Spain. At that time, I waited a long time at a famous bakery, but all the bread in front of me was sold out. They told me that if I waited a little longer, fresh bread would come out. I thought, ‘That’s Lucky Vicky,’ because I could eat freshly made bread. I shared that story with my fans, and from then on, ‘Lucky Vicky’ spread instantly and became a popular meme.” It’s a small moment, but it reflects a powerful way of thinking it mean that Instead of focusing on what didn’t happen, focus on what’s still possible.This applies to bigger situations too. Didn’t get the result you wanted? It’s a chance to adjust your approach. Lost an opportunity? Maybe it wasn’t the right one, and something better is coming. Feeling stuck? That means growth is happening, even if you can’t see it yet.The way you choose to interpret setbacks determines whether they drain you or empower you.

ஐ - 𝟸. ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇs ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

Wonyoung is often criticized online, but her response to negativity is simple: “No problem, I don’t care. You are you, and I am me.” This isn’t about arrogance or something but it’s about understanding that not everything requires your energy.If you spend too much time thinking about what others say, replaying negative moments, or trying to justify yourself, you lose focus on what actually matters. Some opinions do not need to be addressed. Some people are not worth your time.That doesn’t mean ignoring constructive feedback, but it does mean choosing where you place your attention. The Lucky Vicky Mindset is about knowing when to engage and when to walk away because your energy is too valuable to be wasted on things that don’t help you grow.Jang Wonyoung also said in a show interview : "I believe there is energy in thoughts and words. When I got anxious and negative thoughts, I tried to correct them positively. In the end, there was no wrong path even if I looked at where I am now,"

ஐ - 𝟹. ғᴏᴄᴜs ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴇss

Comparison is one of the biggest traps in personal growth. Social media makes it easy to see others succeeding and wonder why you’re not at their level. But the truth is, no one’s journey looks the same and no one has it all figured out.Wonyoung has been in the spotlight since she was a teenager, constantly compared to others, yet she stays focused on her own path.

🗝️:You don’t need to be ahead of anyone else you just need to be ahead of where you were yesterday.

Instead of thinking:

"Why am I not as successful as them?"

Try:

"What small step can I take today to improve?"

Your timeline is your own. Trust that your progress is happening at the right pace for you.

ஐ - 𝟺. ᴄᴏɴғɪᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

A lot of people wait to feel "ready" before taking action. They think confidence comes when they finally have everything figured out. But in reality, confidence grows through experience, not through waiting.Wonyoung didn’t become poised and self-assured overnight. She gained confidence by stepping into situations that challenged her. The only way to become good at something is to do it, even when it’s uncomfortable.So, whether it’s speaking up more, taking on new challenges, or stepping outside your comfort zone, start before you feel fully prepared. Confidence isn’t about never making mistakes but it’s about knowing that mistakes won’t break u

ஐ - 𝟻. ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴀss ɪs ʜᴀʟғ ғᴜʟʟ

I want to add something about positive and negative thinking for the setback part

People often say, "The glass is half full" to mean optimism and "The glass is half empty" to mean pessimism. The Lucky Vicky Mindset takes it a step further.

wony once said, “I was about to drink water after practice, and just about half a cup was left. I had hoped for just about half because it would be too much to drink all of it and not enough if it was too little. I am totally a ‘Lucky Vicky!’”

That it’s about seeing things as aligned for you. It’s not about forcing happiness or pretending everything is perfect. It’s about trusting that what’s in front of you is just right cuz The way you interpret situations shapes your reality so this way of thinking removes the pressure to categorize things as "good" or "bad." It allows you to move with life instead of resisting it. When you start seeing every outcome as something that fits into your journey, you naturally feel more at peace, less anxious, and more confident that things are unfolding the way they should.

So instead of asking, “Is my glass half full or half empty?” try thinking, “Maybe this is exactly the amount I was meant to have.”

@bloomzone

This mindset allows you to be present, grateful, and naturally attract opportunities. When you believe that life is working with u, rather than against you, everything starts to feel like a lucky break even the things you didn’t expect.i hope y'all like this blog and thank you for the love and support ! have a lucky Vicky day 🍀