#also. if youre one of my friends and youre reading this. if you need anything im right here. <333 yall deserve the world.

[svtiddiess]

Revved Up

Synopsis: Yoon Jeonghan, the undisputed king of the tracks, with an ego that goes at par with his unshakeable record, finally meets his match when a rookie appears, determined to snatch victories right out from under his nose.

Pairing: underground racer!Jeonghan x underground racer!afab!reader

Genre: rivals to ??, underground racer au, smut, oneshot

Rating: mature

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: Jeonghan's kind of an asshole, some misogynistic remarks, hate sex, semi-public sex (but nobody's around), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), marking, Jeonghan smokes, lemme know if I've missed anything!

Note: This was inspired by this edit. Thank you so much to @tusswrites @nothoughtsjustfic and @soo0hee for helping me with the fic, this fic wouldn't have left the vault without your help!

Thank you so much to @shadowkoo for the amazing banner!

Also, I'd like to thank @tomodachiii for making me make them fuck on top of the car.

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On top of the world.

That's how Jeonghan feels at the moment as he passes the finish line, winning first place once again. He leans back in his seat, chest heaving from the adrenaline and a smirk painted on his face. 

A crowd gathers around his car, cheering and congratulating him on yet another victory—his tenth consecutive win. He steps out, removing his helmet and running a hand through his slightly damp blonde hair. Catching sight of a group of girls nearby, he flashes them a flirty wink and a smug grin, sending them into a fit of squeals and giggles. While the adrenaline rush fuels his passion for underground racing, this moment is undoubtedly his favourite: the unmatched fame, glory, and attention that come with it.

He walks over to where his friends are waiting. They greet him with a smile and several pats on the back, each congratulating him on his victory.

"That's your tenth win. It looks like your winning streak is still going strong," grins Seungcheol, his childhood best friend. It was Seungcheol who first introduced Jeonghan to the underground racing scene, and after just one race, Jeonghan was hooked on the thrill of the lifestyle.

"Of course it is," Jeonghan scoffs. "I'm Yoon Jeonghan, after all."

"Your ego seems to grow with every race you win," grumbles Woozi, another friend and the group's reluctant mechanic. They met on a random Tuesday night when Jeonghan crashed his car right into Woozi's workshop. Angry didn’t even begin to cover how Woozi felt, but that incident sparked an unexpected friendship. After being introduced to Seungcheol, Woozi was roped into the role of the group's mechanic, though not exactly by choice.

"You'd think he'd have reached his peak by now, but nope. I’m always amazed at how much his ego grows with every race," Mingyu snickers. He's a racer too, though he prefers bikes over cars. His tall, muscular build gives off the impression of a tough guy; he’s anything but—Mingyu is a complete softie. It’s a mystery how someone like him ended up in a world as cutthroat as underground racing.

"You better watch that ego of yours. Your hubris will be your downfall," warns Minghao, a close friend of Jeonghan's who somehow managed to stumble into the underground racing scene. He seems to also have found a talent for racing, but he prefers to watch the races rather than participate in them.

Jeonghan rolls his eyes at the familiar jab. His friends never miss an opportunity to comment on his so-called massive ego. He doesn’t see it that way—he’s just got skill, luck, and the confidence to show it off. Why shouldn’t he?

Handsome, talented, charming, and lucky, Yoon Jeonghan truly is God's favourite after all.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Jeonghan brushes off the remarks, already distracted by thoughts of the after-party. This is his tenth win, after all, so it needs to be memorable: top-shelf whiskey, a VIP booth, and a few girls to top it off.

Grinning to himself, he slings an arm over Seungcheol’s shoulder as the group heads toward the exit. But then, a figure catches his eye, halting him in his tracks.

"Hey, who’s the chick?" Jeonghan asks, nodding toward a girl wearing a racing jacket, tinkering with what looks like her car.

"Oh, that's Y/N. I heard she’s new. Just signed up today," Mingyu informs them.

"A girl racing?" Jeonghan scoffs. "Good luck with that."

"Jerk," Seungcheol mutters, elbowing him in the ribs.

"Hey!" Jeonghan protests, raising his hands in mock defence. "I’m just saying! Girls aren’t exactly known for being good drivers."

"And she’s a newbie," he adds with a smirk. "I bet she’ll be running home crying after her first race."

A sharp voice cuts through their conversation.

"And what makes you so sure about that?"

Jeonghan turns to see the same girl standing in front of him, arms crossed, her glare sharp enough to cut steel.

"I’m just saying," Jeonghan shrugs, his lazy grin unfazed. "Newbies don’t usually last long here—especially cute ones like you." He winks at her.

She rolls her eyes and scoffs.

"And who are you to assume something like that?" she snaps.

"I’m Yoon Jeonghan, baby," he replies smoothly. "Longest winning streak in the game. Just got my tenth win, actually." He winks again, clearly enjoying himself.

"Never heard of you," she mutters.

Jeonghan’s smile falters for a split second, but he quickly recovers, slipping his hands into his back pockets as he steps closer.

"You know, I think we got off on the wrong foot," he says smoothly. "We’re heading out to celebrate my win at a party—why don’t you join us?" His grin widens as he adds, "Who knows, you might even get lucky and end up in bed with me." He throws in a wink for good measure.

"Fucking asshole," she mutters, brushing past him and deliberately bumping his shoulder, which only makes Jeonghan chuckle.

"You’ve really got to work on your attitude," Woozi sighs, shaking his head.

"I don’t see the problem," Jeonghan says with a shameless grin. "Hey, it’s her loss for passing up on this."

Woozi rolls his eyes and heads for the exit, the rest of the group following behind. Jeonghan lingers for a moment, glancing back at her one last time before turning to join them.

After downing his seventh shot, Jeonghan leans back into the booth, savouring the lingering burn in his throat. He feels a girl press against him—a chick he picked up earlier. What was her name again? Patty? Petunia? No, Patricia. Right, Patricia.

Glancing down at her, he smirks. She had mentioned coming here with a friend. Maybe tonight’s a two-for-one kind of night, he thinks with a sly grin.

He leans down and asks Patricia where her friend is. She points towards the dance floor, where a girl is surrounded by a crowd. Jeonghan squints, trying to get a better look. For a moment, it almost seems like that hot-headed chick he pissed off earlier—Y/N.

No way she’d show up here after the scene she made earlier. Guess she’s just like every other girl, after all, he thinks with a chuckle.

Smirking, Jeonghan makes his way onto the dance floor. He grabs the girl’s shoulder and spins her around, only to stop in his tracks. It’s not Y/N.

"Shit, sorry. Thought you were someone else," he mutters before retreating back to his seat.

Dropping into the booth, he groans, rubbing his face. The alcohol is definitely kicking in now. Why the hell is he even thinking about Y/N? He's got plenty of other girls grovelling at his feet for his attention.

Whatever.

Jeonghan grumbles and downs another shot, trying to shake her out of his mind. Sliding an arm around Patricia again, he leans in, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, earning soft giggles and a blush in return.

Girls are so easy, he muses with a smirk.

"You really need to check that ego of yours," a familiar voice cuts through his thoughts. Jeonghan rolls his eyes, turning toward the source—Minghao.

"Having an ego is fine," Minghao says, shrugging, "but your level of ego? That’s going to be your downfall. Just saying."

Jeonghan sighs, grabbing his whiskey. "How many times have you said this already?"

"I’m pretty sure this is his fifth time," Mingyu mumbles.

"It’s actually the seventh," Woozi interjects, sipping his water; he prefers not to drink and only goes to clubs if the others quite literally drag him there. "You weren’t around for the other two."

"Really?" Mingyu's eyes widen in surprise.

"I’m just saying," Minghao continues, undeterred. "I’ve seen people crash hard because of their egos. As your friend, I’d hate to see that happen to you."

Jeonghan chuckles, waving him off. "You worry too much, Hao. I’m Yoon Jeonghan. I’ve got nothing to worry about. Life’s great and only getting better." He leans back, taking another sip of his drink. Minghao shakes his head, sighing, as he takes a sip of his martini.

Just then, Seungcheol, who had been off picking up girls, returns with a girl under each arm.

"Hey, turns out Leah here is Patricia’s friend," Seungcheol smirks, gesturing to the girl on his right.

Jeonghan’s grin widens. "This is why you’re my best friend, Cheol," he laughs.

Seungcheol chuckles, helping Leah settle into the seat beside Jeonghan. Now surrounded by two girls, Jeonghan’s smile grows even bigger.

"Tonight’s going to be a great night," he says, laughing softly before leaning in to tease Leah with kisses while his hand moves to caress Patricia’s thigh.

Booze, friends, and girls—what better way to celebrate a race win?

The next race day rolls around, and Jeonghan is casually chatting with a group of girls while the other racers prep their cars. Checking on his own car? That’s Woozi’s job, after all. Jeonghan has more important things to do—like charming his fangirls.

As he scans the lineup of racers, his eyes land on Y/N. To his surprise, she’s here, busy with some last-minute prep near her car. A smirk spreads across his face as he saunters over to her.

"Well, well. Didn’t think you’d actually show up, babygirl," Jeonghan taunts, breaking her focus.

Y/N looks up, her expression already annoyed. "Don’t you have better things to do than bother me before the race?" she snaps.

"Nope, can’t think of anything better, baby," Jeonghan replies, his signature smirk firmly in place.

With a frustrated huff, Y/N rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to her car, clearly done with him. As she bends down to grab something, Jeonghan lets out a low wolf whistle, his grin widening.

"Damn, you might have the finest ass I've ever seen; almost make me wanna bite into it," Jeonghan whistles with a low chuckle.

Y/N snaps her head around, her eyes blazing with fury.

"You better fuck off before I do something I regret," she snarls, her tone sharp enough to cut.

Jeonghan grins, completely unfazed. "Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do, little rookie?"

Her glare intensifies. "I’m gonna smack you so hard, you’ll forget which way the track goes," she growls through gritted teeth.

Jeonghan laughs, stepping closer until their faces are inches apart. He tilts her chin up with his hand, his cocky smirk growing.

"I’d love to see you try, little rookie," he whispers, his voice dripping with arrogance.

"Fucking asshole!" Y/N spits, smacking his hand away and storming off, her footsteps heavy with frustration.

Jeonghan watches her retreat, amused. His smirk lingers as he turns back to his car, throwing a final wink at his fangirls before sliding into the driver’s seat and strapping on his helmet.

"Can't wait to see you cry, little rookie," he mutters to himself, revving the engine.

Jeonghan drives to the starting line, aligning his car with the others. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and feels his heartbeat thumping in his ears as the adrenaline surges through his veins. Letting out a slow breath, he opens his eyes and smirks. Today will be the day he claims his eleventh win, he tells himself.

The starter steps forward, raising the green flag. Jeonghan grips the steering wheel tighter, revving the engine in anticipation. The flag drops, and the cars launch forward. As always, Jeonghan takes the lead.

He smirks, watching the growing gap between himself and the other racers.

"This’ll be a breeze," he chuckles to himself.

But his smirk falters when he notices Y/N's car tailing him, closing the gap fast.

"Hmm, not bad," he thinks, pushing the pedal harder to create more distance. But Y/N stays right on his tail, getting closer with each turn. Jeonghan's eyes widen as he realises the speed at which she's gaining on him. He quickly regains composure and focuses on maintaining his momentum.

As Y/N’s car continues to close the distance, Jeonghan’s frustration builds. He curses under his breath and slams the pedal to the floor, opting for raw speed over caution.

A sharp corner approaches and Jeonghan takes the inner road, determined to block Y/N from passing. But to his surprise, she takes the outer road and overtakes him. As she pulls ahead, their eyes meet, and Jeonghan swears he catches a smirk beneath her helmet.

Y/N speeds away and is now in the lead. Scowling, Jeonghan attempts to overtake her, but she doesn’t give him an inch. With each failed attempt, his frustration grows. The finish line is nearing, and if he doesn’t pass her, he’ll lose—and Yoon Jeonghan never loses.

Jeonghan slams the pedal again and attempts a sharp turn to pass Y/N, but she expertly dodges his move, blocking him out.

"Fuck!" Jeonghan curses, his frustration boiling over.

The finish line looms ahead, and despite his efforts, Y/N crosses it first, claiming victory. Jeonghan finishes in second place, seething with disbelief.

Jeonghan sits in the car for a moment, trying to process what just happened. He… lost. Yoon Jeonghan, the guy with an undefeated streak, just lost to some rookie. Unbelievable. He scoffs, slamming his hand on the steering wheel before getting out of the car. In a rush, he yanks off his helmet and tosses it aside, storming towards Y/N.

He takes a second to compose himself, then flashes a smirk as he leans against her car.

"Not bad… for a rookie," he says, his tone dripping with mock approval.

Y/N looks up at him from the driver’s seat, smirking in return.

"This rookie just beat your ass," she retorts, her voice full of playful challenge. "What happened to your winning streak? Must suck to get beaten by a girl rookie."

Jeonghan's smirk falters for a moment, the sting of defeat hitting him harder than he expected.

"I don’t know how you managed to get ten wins with that lousy driving," she continues, a teasing laugh escaping her lips. "The other drivers must’ve been really bad."

Jeonghan chuckles, trying to mask his frustration.

"You just got lucky, little rookie. Beginner's luck," he shrugs, leaning in closer to her. "You'll be eating my dust next race; I’ll make sure of it, baby."

"We’ll see about that, Jeonghan," she smirks, the challenge still in her eyes.

Jeonghan grins wide, full of cocky confidence.

"It’s official, you’re now Yoon Jeonghan’s rival," he says.

Y/N scoffs, rolling her eyes.

"Wow, what an honour," she replies sarcastically, her tone dripping with irony.

Before Jeonghan can respond, she speeds off, leaving him stumbling behind, caught off guard.

"Fucking bitch," he mutters under his breath, shaking off his frustration as he regains his balance.

"Just you wait. I'll make you regret your actions, little rookie," he growls before walking to where his friends await him.

The next few races, much to Jeonghan's disappointment and frustration, followed the same infuriating pattern—he’d dominate the track, taking the lead and building good momentum, only for Y/N to overtake him at the last corner, snatching victory right out of his grasp.

And with every win, Y/N’s taunts grew bolder and more irritating. She had the winning streak now—not him. Jeonghan was stuck with second place, which, in his mind, was just first place for losers.

Still, Jeonghan kept up his confident facade. He’d smirk, laugh it off, and dismiss her wins with a nonchalant wave. "Beginner’s luck," he’d say every single time. And Y/N would roll her eyes and scoff at his excuse. Every single time.

Another race, another loss—his fifth in a row. Jeonghan stormed out of his car, tossing his helmet somewhere without care, running a hand through his damp hair in frustration. He strode over to Y/N’s car, only to see her climbing out with an obnoxiously big grin plastered across her face.

"Five losses, Yoon. Looks like you’re on a losing streak," she says, laughing in his face.

Jeonghan scoffed, narrowing his eyes. "I’m just letting you have a taste of what victory feels like. Don’t get too comfortable, little one," he shot back, his tone dripping with condescension.

"Sure you are," she replied with a mocking smirk. "Maybe it’s time you retire, old man. Looks like you’re not fit for the track anymore."

"Old man?" Jeonghan repeated, incredulous, stepping closer until their noses almost touched. His voice dropped dangerously low. "I’ll make you regret saying that, little rookie."

"Go ahead," she challenges, leaning in slightly, her gaze unwavering as it locked onto his.

"Han," a familiar voice cut through the tension. Jeonghan turns his head to see Seungcheol standing with the rest of his group, watching him expectantly.

It was then that Jeonghan noticed the sudden hush around them—everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch the standoff unfold.

He turns back to Y/N, his smirk returning. "Consider this a warning, little rookie," he said coolly before stepping away and heading off with his friends.

Y/N just rolled her eyes and turned back to her car, ignoring the stares of the crowd still lingering around her.

Sighing, Jeonghan steps onto the track. It’s the night before a race, and restless energy had dragged him out of bed. Somehow, his legs had brought him here, to the place that always seemed to quiet the chaos in his mind. Maybe it was the strange connection he had with racing, but the track always had a way of grounding him.

He pulls out a cigarette, lights it, and takes a long drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling it into the cool night air. Closing his eyes, he feels the warmth of the nicotine spread through his body, contrasting with the crisp chill around him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" a sharp voice cuts through the silence.

Jeonghan spins around, and there she is—Y/N, arms crossed, her glare piercing through the dark.

"I should be asking you that," he retorts, narrowing his eyes and throwing away the cigarette bud.

"I’m here to scope out the track before the race," she says defensively, her lips curving into a smirk. "But you? I bet you’re here to sabotage it. Face it, that’s probably the only way you’ll win at this point."

His jaw tightens, and in two quick strides, he’s in front of her. His hand shoots out, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up at him.

"You really think I’d stoop so low as to cheat?" he scoffs, his voice dripping with disdain.

"I think you’d do anything to win," she counters, her smirk unyielding as she leans closer. "Cheating included."

"I’m not you," he growls, their faces so close their breaths mingle in the cool air.

Her expression darkens. "Are you accusing me of cheating?"

"How else would someone like you manage to win?" he sneers, his voice laced with mockery.

"Talent and dedication," she snaps back. "Two things you lack. Clearly."

"All you have is luck, little rookie. And we both know it’s going to run out," he fires back, smirking.

Her eyes glint with challenge. "Well, it looks like your luck’s been gone for a while, Yoon," she says smugly.

Scowling, Jeonghan doesn’t bother with another word. Instead, he closes the distance between them, crashing his lips against hers in a heated, impulsive kiss. She lets out a startled squeak, her hands instinctively clutching at his shirt as he pulls her closer, pouring all his frustration and fire into the kiss.

"Jump," he murmurs against her lips. Without hesitation, she wraps her legs around his waist, locking herself against him.

Still lost in the kiss, he strides toward his parked car nearby, effortlessly hoisting her up before laying her down on the hood.

He breaks the kiss briefly, just long enough to strip away both their shirts, before crashing his lips back onto hers. His hands explore her bare skin, sending a shiver through her as his touch lingers. With practiced ease, he slides a hand behind her and unhooks her bra in one swift motion, letting it fall away and exposing her.

Pulling back slightly, his gaze sweeps over her, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "Not bad," he remarks teasingly.

She rolls her eyes and tugs him back into the kiss, her lips silencing further remarks. His hand sneaks up and toys with her nipple, eliciting a whimper from her. Their tongues fight for dominance as he continues to abuse her nipples.

"Are you gonna fuck me or what?" she growls against his lips.

"So impatient," he chuckles, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "Didn’t know you were such a slut," he taunts, earning a sharp scowl from her.

Without missing a beat, he makes quick work of the buttons on her pants, and she lifts her hips to help slide them off along with her panties. Now completely bare, she lies sprawled across the hood of her car, her defiant gaze locked on his.

Running a finger through her slit, he chuckles. "Hm, so wet already. Knew you couldn't resist me, little rookie."

"Fuck you," she spits.

"That's exactly what I'm doing," he teases before inserting a finger into her tight hole.

She throws her head back with a curse as Jeonghan's finger moves inside her with slow, deliberate thrusts. Leaning down, he trails his lips along her neck and collarbones, leaving a series of love bites—each placed carefully to ensure they’ll be visible, even beneath a shirt.

Sliding in another finger, he curls them until he finds that sensitive, spongey spot deep inside her. A loud moan spills from her lips as he presses against it, his smirk widening with satisfaction. He focuses on that spot, relentlessly drawing out her moans and whimpers.

"Shit, I’m so close! Fuck!" she cries out, her brows furrowing as she chases her release.

But just as she’s about to tip over the edge, he cruelly withdraws his fingers, leaving her trembling and frustrated.

She lets out a loud, furious wail, her eyes blazing as they lock on him. "What the fuck?!"

Jeonghan tilts his head, his smirk lazy and infuriating. "What, you thought I’d let you finish that easily, little rookie?" he taunts, his tone dripping with playful malice.

"You fucking assh—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Jeonghan quickly slips out his dick and thrusts into her without any warning.

"Shit!" she cries, her hands clutching Jeonghan's shoulders for stability.

He thrusts into her with an unrelenting, almost primal rhythm, the car beneath them shaking with each movement. The night air fills with a symphony of grunts, moans, and the metallic creak of the car's hood. Their heated bodies contrast sharply against the cool breeze, creating an intoxicating mix of sensations.

"I hate you—fuck—I hate you," she moans, her voice shaky with every thrust.

"Yeah? I hate you too, little rookie," he growls in response, his words laced with defiance and desire.

"I'm close," she whimpers out, nails digging into his shoulders. Sneaking a hand between their bodies, Jeonghan starts circling her clit.

With a loud cry, her body trembles beneath him as she climaxes, gripping him tightly. Jeonghan lets out a low groan, continuing to thrust into her, drawing out every wave of her release as her juices coat him.

After a few more thrusts, he pulls out and jerks himself off before cumming onto the track with a groan.

They take a moment to catch their breath before slipping back into their clothes. Jeonghan lights another cigarette and leans against the hood of the car, settling down beside Y/N; both of them staring at the track ahead.

Jeonghan extends the hand holding his cigarette toward her, a silent offer.

"I don’t smoke," she scoffs.

"Wow, how thrillingly boring," he chuckles, taking another drag.

"Sorry for wanting to keep my lungs functional," she retorts, rolling her eyes.

Jeonghan laughs softly and exhales a puff of smoke. Y/N pulls her knees to her chest, shivering slightly as the cold night air wraps around them. Silence falls between them, broken only by the occasional crackle of Jeonghan’s cigarette.

"Why do you do it?" she suddenly asks, her voice quiet.

Jeonghan glances at her, puzzled. "Do what?"

"Racing," she says, turning her head to meet his gaze. "Why do you do it?"

He takes a long drag, tilts his head back, and exhales slowly into the crisp night air. Stubbing out the cigarette, he shifts his focus back to her.

"I didn’t have… the best parents," he starts, his voice low. "Honestly, I wouldn’t even call them parents."

She listens intently as his brows furrow. "They hated me from the second I was born. Treated me like I was invisible—like I didn’t even exist."

His fingers fidget with a loose thread on his shirt. "Growing up, I was always the kid in the shadows. The loner. The weird kid no one wanted to talk to."

Jeonghan chuckles dryly, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "I didn’t make my first real friend until my last year of high school. Pure accident. But somehow, me and Cheol hit it off."

"Cheol’s the one who dragged me into underground racing. I didn’t think much of it at first but after just one race…I was hooked. The adrenaline, the thrill…it was addictive."

He pauses, his gaze softening as a faint smile tugs at his lips. "Then came my first win. When I stepped out of that car, everyone swarmed me, congratulating me. For the first time in my life, I felt…seen."

His eyes drift to the stars above. "I wasn’t a shadow anymore. People knew my name. They cheered for me. They loved me."

His voice softens as he turns to her. "That’s why I race—to be seen. To matter. To finally step out of the shadows and into the light."

For a moment, their eyes lock in a shared silence, his words lingering in the air between them.

Then she looks away, a chuckle escaping her lips. "Wow. You’re a special kind of asshole," she mutters.

Jeonghan blinks, startled. "What?"

"Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing, Yoon," she says, narrowing her eyes.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about," he replies, feigning innocence.

"Spare me," she snaps. "You’re trying to manipulate me with your little sob story, so I’ll throw tomorrow’s race. But it’s not gonna work, Yoon. I see right through you."

Jeonghan stares at her, caught off guard. He opens his mouth to argue, but no words come out. She laughs in his face.

"God, you’re pathetic," she says, shaking her head as she hops off the hood. "Get ready to lose again tomorrow."

With a smirk, she saunters off to her car, leaving Jeonghan speechless. He watches as her silhouette fades into the night, a mixture of shock and frustration etched on his face.

The next day arrives, Jeonghan scans the area, searching for Y/N. Maybe he can explain himself, convince her he wasn’t trying to manipulate her into throwing the race—that he was being genuine. Even though that’s exactly what he had been trying to do.

Spotting her by her car, checking it over one last time, he strides toward her purposefully.

"Y/N, I—let me explain, please," he begins, his tone uncharacteristically earnest.

Her only response is to put on her helmet, flip him off without a word, and climb into her car. She drives off toward the starting line, leaving Jeonghan stunned and frustrated.

Muttering under his breath, he storms back to his car, slamming the door as he gets in. He pulls on his helmet, his jaw tight as he rolls up to the start line beside her. For a brief moment, their eyes meet, and even through her helmet, he can tell she’s smirking.

Scowling, he looks away, trying to focus on the race ahead.

But it ends just like the last five—Y/N taking first place, and Jeonghan trailing behind in second.

Scoffing in disbelief, Jeonghan climbs out of his car, tearing off his helmet as he runs a frustrated hand through his damp hair. His gaze drifts to Y/N, surrounded by a cheering crowd congratulating her on another victory. She looks radiant, basking in their admiration, which only deepens the scowl on Jeonghan’s face.

Their eyes meet for a fleeting moment, and Jeonghan can see the triumphant glint in hers.

He smirks, despite himself. "Enjoy it while it lasts, little rookie," he mutters, his voice low but filled with determination. "Because I’ll make sure this is only temporary."

His eyes darken, a wave of anger and frustration crashing over him as he watches her revel in what should have been his victory—a victory she snatched right out of his grasp. His fists tighten at his sides, resolve surging through his veins like fire. He will beat her. He’s Yoon Jeonghan, after all—the one on top of the world.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 6

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content and language, being sick? overthinking? p being melodramatic Wordcount: 4.4K A/C: was feeling inspired :)) anyway pls be patient with me posting, i'm applying to schools rn!! anyway this went a direction i hadn't planned but... uhh... i have no excuses i was going with the flow. anyway enjoy x (also what a scare yesterday just hoping p is doing fine and i'm sure everything's okay!)

-

Before London

You need a ride to work tmr?

I don’t but thank you x

My eyes roam the texts as they had repeatedly since last night, trying to decipher each letter as if some ancient code I couldn’t understand. Is she seriously gonna be like that? Like she wasn’t the one who pulled me in. She kissed me. Why was she taking it out on me now? I don’t got time for this anyway, to be stressing about something like this. 

I hadn’t seen Izara since Saturday, not at work, not in the apartment building, hell, I’d even gone to the gym every morning praying that she might show up but it was as if the girl had disappeared from the face of the earth. I knew she was avoiding me, and I guess she had reason but fuck, I thought she’d be better than that. Not a word since Saturday, other than those strange cryptic texts. Fine. Be that way.

“My favourite girls!!” Trey’s voice blatantly interjects my spinning thoughts as me, Arike, Satou and Lou are sat at a circular table, eating lunch. Not that I had been eating per say, more so poking my fork here and there trying to stomach a piece of chicken now and then. The heaviness in the pit of my stomach made it hard to eat at all.

I lift my eyes, hoping Izara would be trailing behind the man as usual. But it’s Ava instead, holding a notepad and taking quick steps to keep up. I mean I knew it wasn’t Iz before even looking up - there was an uncomfortable void of heels tapping against the hardwood as the pair approach us eagerly.

“Oh hey!” Lou smiles from her chair next to me. “What’s up?”

“So we were thinking,” Trey starts, leaning forward against the table. “If y’all could film some clips answering comments on your own since our dear Zari isn’t here.”

“Uh, where is she anyway?” I ask as casually as I can - though the way everyone’s heads snap to me tells me it was a feeble attempt.

Trey’s dark brown eyes study me for a while with an expression I can’t quite read before answering. “She’s home sick, poor girl.”

Bullshit. She’s trying to avoid me, I know it. I can’t believe it, I thought she would be more mature than this, than faking being “sick” just to get away from an awkward conversation with me. Why was she assuming how I felt anyway? Like the kiss mattered to me? Like I’d want more?

I mean all that was true. God did it matter and God did I want, no, need more. Much more. But she didn’t know that, so why was she assuming. I thought we were friends. You know what this is? Bad friendship.

“Oh damn, hope she feels better,” Arike answers for me, noticing the way I’m gone in my thoughts.

“Y-yeah for sure,” I mumble, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’mma go to the weight room.”

I place the fork down on my half eaten plate harshly, getting up abruptly making my irritation quite clear to everyone around me.

“Paige you gotta eat a little more,” Lou encourages but I shake my head.

“Nah, m’ not hungry,” I murmur and take my plate back, preparing to take out my aggravation at some weights, ignoring the way Arike and the rest of the girls eye me as I walk away.

-

“So how are we feeling about the first game soon?” My dad’s voice echoes through the speaker but I barely hear him, pacing my apartment’s living room. Truthfully I hadn’t thought much about the upcoming game. I knew that was bad. That I should be ecstatic, or scared as hell, but I didn’t feel anything else besides the dread of what happened between me and Iz. 

Matter of fact, I hadn’t been able to think of anything else but the way she looked all night, the way her green smoked out eyes twinkled at me, the way she threw her head back when she laughed at my jokes, when she pressed her front against me. The way her full breasts felt against my chest, the way her round ass felt under my hands. God, the whimper she let out when I squeezed it as gently as I could.

“Paige?”

“Uh what?” I mumble, ears burning, completely forgotten about the call with my dad.

“What’s going on with you?” His secure, steady voice asks, grounding me.

“Nothin’ dad,” I murmur, rubbing my eyes and looking out the window into the street, eyeing every dark haired woman just in case they were Izara.

“Paige Madison.”

I groan. I might be 23-years-old but my dad’s stern voice turns me into a teenager without fail each time.

“You’re comin’ to the first game still, right?”

“Yes, of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Why?”

“Nothin’, just miss you,” I mumble, coming up with an excuse for my low mood - though it wasn’t far off. Everytime I felt sad or anxious I just wanted my dad.

“I miss you too, kid. You know you just say the word and I’m there, okay?”

“No I know, I know. I’m just tired I think,” I sigh, my chest warming at my dad’s comforting words.

“Uh oh,” he starts. “Paige Madison… Don’t tell me.”

“Huh? Tell you what?”

“Is this about a girl?” He asks.

I pause, coming to a halt with my pacing. “Hu- I- What?!”

“You always say “I’m just tired” when you got a girl on your mind,” my dad laughs, doing a horrible impression of me.

“No!” I argue a little too fast and a little too passionately. “I mean, no. Just tired. Long practice.”

“Mhm alright,” my dad mumbles, an amused tone in his voice that irritates me in a way only a parent could. “So no girl?”

“No dadddd,” I whine like a teenage girl. “There’s no girl.”

I didn’t like lying to him. I wanted to tell him all about Izara. I knew my dad would adore that girl. He always said I needed a woman to keep me in check - Izzie did just that. But I also didn’t want to tell my dad about this girl knowing it likely wasn’t going to go anywhere, especially now that she had been hiding from me since our kiss.

“Okay dad tell Drew I said hi and I’ll play Fortnite with him tomorrow,” I say into the phone, ready to hang up.

“Okay kid, love you.”

“Love you dad.”

The silence is deafening, again. Like it used to be before I became friends with Iz. I felt alone, anxious, my head spinning with thoughts I couldn’t turn off. I thought she was mature enough to handle this like two adults. If she just wanted to be friends then she could just tell me, at least we could continue our friendship like that.

But usually when I kissed a girl, they didn’t run away like this. Quite the opposite. Did she not like the way I kissed? Was I off my game? Maybe the tongue was too much? Maybe she didn’t like my outfit. I’m a good kisser, I know I am. Good enough to get girls into bed with ease. So what is the trouble now? And I also know that that was the best kiss I had ever had. That our lips fit together just right. Fuck this girl had me going out of my mind. And now I just had to wait for her to reach out, it didn’t feel fair.

No. It wasn’t fair. Why did I have to wait for her? Who said I had to? Fuck that.

Too frenzied to even throw a shirt over my sports bra, I walk downstairs determined, knocking on Izara’s door angrily, preparing a speech of everything I’d been thinking the past few days: Look, Izzie, we’re both adults. You clearly think the kiss was a mistake. But avoiding me and acting like this is ridiculous and stupid and we don’t need to be acting like teenage-

“Paige?” 

Izzie opens the door, voice weak and nasally. She’s in a pale pink pyjama set, hair up in a clip and nose red and irritated. She wasn’t lying. Definitely not. She is sick. 

Quick, improvise.

“Uh, hey,” I mumble, my cheeks turning pink, her red eyes staring up at me reminiscent of Saturday night and the moments before our kiss on the balcony. “Trey told me you were sick.”

She chuckles, looking down at her dishevelled appearance and returns her gaze to me. “How did you know,” she jokes. She’s acting like nothing happened between us. How could she act like that? I guess it’s better than if she actually had been avoiding me.

“Was worried, haven’t seen you since… The party,” I say unsurely.

“Uh… Yeah. Crazy party huh,” Izzie says almost to herself. ��Well, anyway, thanks for checking in but I’m perfectly okay. Just a cold and I think it’s passing.”

She begins to close the door but I grab it, holding it open.

“You been resting?” I ask concerned.

The girl shrugs. “Well at first but now I’m just getting bored so I’ve been doing some work from home.”

“Izzie…”

“What?”

“You gotta be restin’ if you’re sick,” I argue, which makes the girl roll her eyes.

“I’m fine Paige,” she answers, but I step inside.

“Let me in.”

“No, you’ll get sick,” she complains but I shake my head.

“I won’t. I’m built different.”

Izzie laughs, deciding it was pointless to try to argue and lets me in.

Her apartment is spotless as always, laptop open on her dining table with schedules and notebooks piled next to it. This bitch hadn’t been resting, no she’s been working and cleaning.

“Izzie!” I groan and close the laptop.

“Shoes! Shoes shoes shoes!” She yelps, voice breaking as she does. 

“‘M sorry!” I gasp and take my sneakers off quickly, placing them neatly by the entrance. I feel her eyes fixed on me. 

“Do you ever wear a shirt?” She asks, blowing her stuffy nose, which makes me let out a single laugh.

“Why, you want me to?” I ask confidently, easily falling into the same effortlessness as before.

My words make the girl blush. Perhaps the kiss wasn’t that bad? Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I should just ask… Ask what?! If the kiss was good?! Bro… Get a grip.

“Well you’re going to get cold, it’s freezing here,” she tells me, turning away and walking to the couch where pillows are neatly arranged, an expensive looking blanket neatly folded on the armrest. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it definitely was not cold, that her apartment was scorching hot already making me sweat.

“Yo, you’re kidding right?” I laugh as I watch her somewhat pitifully curling up against the corner of the couch on her single throw pillow.

“What?”

“Iz, you’re sick!”

“Wow, thanks for rubbing it in my face,” she says nasally, blowing her nose again.

“Bro, that pillow is just sad! You need a nest,” I gasp, walking to her bedroom.

“Wait wait wait, it’s a mess in there,” she yelps, following after me. Mess, it is not. There is one hoodie on the bed, which is unmade. That’s it. I pull the heavy blanket off her bed, grabbing all four pillows and walking decisively to the couch with the dark-haired girl on my tail.

“What are you doing?” She asks as I begin to set up each pillow into a nest against the corner of the couch. She’s grabbing my arm and peeking at my actions from behind my back, clearly confused.

“I’m makin’ you a nest,” I explain, brows furrowing as I focus. This is serious business. “My stepmom does this when we’re sick.”

“A nest?” Izzie laughs.

“Yeah, get in,” I order, grabbing the girl’s shoulders and sitting her down. “Now lie back. Get comfy.”

Hesitating for a moment, Izzie curls up against the pillows as I place the blanket over her, watching as she gets comfortable with a smile on her face.

“There you go,” I coo, trying her forehead which is burning hot. “You have a fever Iz, I’m gonna get you some meds.”

“Paige, you don’t have to do this,” she sighs, looking up at me softly. I want to lean down and kiss her again. Instead, I bring my hand to her warm cheek, stroking it softly. She looks vulnerable, gentle for once. It made me want her even more.

“Lemme take care of you ma.”

She doesn’t comment on the nickname, matter of fact there’s a hint of a smile on her face when she nods. 

“The cabinet above the microwave.”

“Got it,” I tell her, pretty much scurrying to the kitchen, gathering everything you could think - water, painkillers, nose spray, I even cut up some fruit for her. But when I return the poor girl is in her nest, cuddled up, fast asleep. It hurts my heart to wake her up, but she needs these meds in her.

“Iz,” I murmur carefully, brushing dark locks away from her face. She blinks herself awake, rubbing her face. Everything about it makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let anyone close in case they hurt her. 

“Fuck, I fell asleep,” she yawns. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”

“You’re sick ma,” I remind her, sitting next to the girl on the couch and watching as she takes her medicine.

“This is so embarrassing,” she murmurs, sipping on the glass of water. Her cheeks are bright red, hair undone and eyes tired - I swear it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her look.

“Izara,” I say sternly. “You’re sick, lemme help.”

“You’re gonna get sick too, and you have your first game soon love.”

“I’ll be fine, I got mad immune system powers.”

She giggles. “Immune system powers?”

“You heard,” I nod, fighting a grin. She coughs a little.

“Paige?”

Oh God. She’s gonna bring up the kiss now. I know it. I can feel it.

“Y-yeah?”

She takes a deep breath. “Can we watch Lady and The Tramp?”

-

“How are you already crying?” Paige asks with a giggle, leaning against the opposite corner of the couch. 

“Lady as a puppy always makes me cry! How could it not?” I sniffle, wiping my nose, watching the scene where Lady doesn’t want to sleep in her dog bed, the poor puppy crying for her dad. 

The blonde is chewing on an apple in her sports bra and black Nike sweats, muscles grown more prominent over her training period with the Wings, arms bigger, shoulders wider, outline of the muscles on her abdomen faintly visible even as she slouches. 

“What kinda names are Darling and Jimmy Dear anyway?” She asks, dramatically frustrated.

“Paige, you’re slow,” I laugh. “Lady thinks those are their names because they call each other those as like, pet names darling.”

The blond thinks for a while, and then grins. “Oh.”

We both burst into a choir of laughter, though it feels rough against my scratchy throat. Still, I could feel the medication already making me feel better. Or maybe it was the company.

My mind had been a mess after I escaped the party. I felt embarrassed, childish even for running away like I did, leaving Paige high and dry. Once I woke up the next morning it was hard to figure out what truly happened and what was my mind playing tricks on me. But I knew the kiss really took place the moment I remembered it, the weight of Paige’s kiss a mere memory on my lips. One wouldn’t forget a kiss like that. It was impossible.

Getting sick had been a lucky coincidence, giving me time to think and take some distance from the situation. I found it impossible to figure out where my desire for Paige and desire for physical contact differed. I couldn’t tell if I was just lonely. Or if I really liked her. I never considered it, me having feelings (if you could call it that) for a girl again. But now as she sat there, looking like that, I wanted nothing but to get on her. To climb onto her lap and kiss her again like we had on the balcony. Without the drunken hue, just us feeling each other.

Even as sick as I am, the familiar burn and ache that always showed up around the blonde begins to grow between my legs, making me squirm. Fuck, maybe I did like her. All I knew I definitely wasn’t in a place to start anything - that no matter what this was it would have to stay casual. I haven’t gotten rid of the ghost of my past relationship. No, not at all. I could see it looming around every corner, peeking through windows, just right outside my line of vision. I wasn’t ready.

Paige’s hand comes over to my bare feet poking out of the blanket, bringing them to her lap and beginning to rub them almost as if subconsciously, like unaware of the entire thing. Except her cheeks turn red as she does. My entire body relaxes, and I let her. For almost half of the movie she massages each toe, the arch of my foot, my ankle, leaving goosebumps everywhere. 

“I’m cold,” I complain, pulling my feet back under the blanket, feeling like a block of ice.

“I’m so hot,” Paige groans, now more invested in the movie, making small comments here and there.

“Lucky,” I groan which makes her snicker.

“Scooch,” The blonde tells me. Before I can resist she’s made her way under the blanket, into the nest, lying behind me and wrapping an arm around my waist. I fit in her arms perfectly, like I was made to be her counterpart, born to be in her arms like this, every curve of her body slotting with mine just right. My ass pressing into her, the blonde’s chin brushing against my shoulder, hot breath tickling against my ear nearly making me moan. Fuck.

“I- I thought you were hot,” I mumble, beginning to lose my composure.

“But you’re cold,” she murmurs into my ear, nose nuzzling into my hair as we keep watching the movie. Though I can’t concentrate. Even on my favourite movie. My head spinning too fast, speeding up even more when my pyjama top hikes up and Paige’s fingertips rub circles against my lower stomach, dangerously close to dipping into my pyjama pants.

“P-paige,” I almost whisper, my voice coming out breathy.

“Mhm?” The blonde’s voice is shaky too, a hoarse hum straight into my ear making me even wetter than I already am.

“You’re gonna get sick,” I remind her, my chest heaving.

“I’m good,” she breathes out, shifting a little, her head fitting just in the crook of my neck. Perfectly. “Are you?”

She’s asking for consent, I can tell. To dip her fingers underneath the band, to slide them into my panties. And God I want to give it to her. To let her have her way with me. The temptation is growing nearly impossible to resist.

“I-” I nearly say it. But then I shift to my back, to meet her gaze. Paige’s face is flushed, nostrils flaring as she breathes, hand remaining on my bare stomach. “How are you feeling about the game?”

“Oh, uhh,” Paige is taken aback, pulling her hand back to my dismay, bringing it to her jaw and rubbing it. “I mean, I haven’t really thought about it if I’m honest? I’m excited to see my dad and Dorka.”

“She went to Uconn with you, right?”

The blonde nods. “I mean issa big moment for sure, but I just wanna take it one day at a time.”

I hesitate. “Are you not nervous at all?”

She lets out a single laugh and looks around the room. “Nah I am. Just tryna keep my mind off it.”

I nod, understanding. I wish I could carry some of her worry, I could tell she was more nervous than she let on. But instead of talking I slide my hand into hers, which seems to comfort the girl more than words, her blue eyes locking with mine. She’s thinking, mulling something over in her head. I can tell.

“The party… Iz, I-”

“Shh,” I tell her before she can keep going, my throat going dry, the ache between my thighs nearly painful. I wasn’t ready to talk, at all. All I wanted was to feel it again, the weight of her lips on mine. So bad I felt dizzy.

“Nah, Izzie, c’mon. I think we both feel we-”

“Paige?”

“Yeah mama?”

“Kiss me.”

-

It makes no sense. But I don’t hesitate. Leaning down, my lips crashing into hers with such hunger it makes me uncharacteristically whine. My body is on fire, every inch burning up as our lips slide against one another, boxers growing damp quickly. My hand carefully holds her cheek, like the girl next to me might break. But to my surprise she pulls me on top of her by the back of my head.

I’m tasting for every inch of her, slowing down and taking my time, unlike that drunken mess on the balcony. Somehow this is even better, the kiss of the century even. Her body is cool to the touch, a sign of the fever going down. But I barely register, kissing her bottom lip affectionately, my hands holding her face. Izzie responds, her teeth pulling on my lip harshly making me groan. Her warm tongue brushes over it, soothingly.

I open my mouth further, my tongue meeting hers, other hand moving to the bare waist of the girl underneath me. I can’t believe this is real. That I’m kissing Izara. It feels like some type of dream, but the ache between my legs proves that every second is real. That she’s really underneath me. And If I’m feeling my core throbbing just from the kiss, I’m certain the dark haired girl feels something similar and the idea of my girl feeling such pain and not having it taken care of breaks my heart.

So my thumb dips underneath the band of her satin pyjama pants, feeling the lace of her underwear as it does. Zari lets out a shaky whimper, her eyes fluttering open.

“Paige,” she whines, brows furrowing.

“Yeah?” I ask breathlessly, leaning down to kiss under her ear which makes her squirm under my weight.

“C-can you keep your hands,” another moan as I suck on her neck, careful not to leave a mark. Izara didn’t seem like the type of woman you marked. “On top of the clothes.”

God she’s gonna be the death of me. But I oblige happily, pulling my hand back to her bare waist.

“Whatever you want Izzie,” I say between ragged breaths, making the girl moan as I keep kissing her neck. Izara’s hands wrap around my back, long acrylics scratching at the skin there.

“Shit,” I cuss under my breath, feeling like I might die or cum in my pants if I don’t get to have her. Still, I keep kissing her, fully aware what a privilege it was just to be on her like this. I do everything to try to stay composed, to keep my cool, to focus on putting on my best show as I return back to sloppily kissing her lips, shifting on top of her, my other hand beside Izzie’s face to hold me up. 

As I move my hips, my knee presses into her core, against the sheer fabric of the pajamas making her gasp straight into my mouth. I repeat the movement with purpose now, and can feel the heat radiating off her, the fabric between her legs growing damp. She wants this just as bad as I do.

“Lemme keep going, please,” I whimper, brows furrowed and barely conscious of what is happening at this point. “Lemme help ma, won’t even touch you.”

Her face is contorted with need, chest heaving desperately. 

“It hurts don’t it? Lemme help,” I coo, my lips wrapping around her earlobe and sucking softly. “Please.”

“Paige,” she whimpers, her body shaking with need. But I feel her shift, legs wrapping around my body. “Please.”

Oh God, I might actually cum in my sweats.

I kiss her all over, her neck, bare shoulders, mind spinning with need, my cunt growing wetter and wetter with every moan that leaves Izzie’s lips as I push my knee against her core, gently, so as to not hurt her.

“P-paige,” she moans my name. My name. 

“Ohh fuck,” I cuss, squeezing my eyes shut at the way her voice sounds, deep and gravelly, turning more high-pitched each time I grind my knee into her cunt.

“Let me get you right ma, please,” I beg breathlessly, shaking my head to myself trying to keep myself present. “Please, Iz, would do anything to fuck you,”

She’s speechless, whimpering desperately, but I can feel her muscles turning tense from the pleasure I’m giving her, legs shaking gently.

“Would be so good, just lemme eat that pussy,” I moan into her ear. “Gimme five.”

Pulling back, I meet her gaze. Her contorted face, dark brows furrowed and lips parted, green eyes blown out black. This is the most beautiful she has ever looked. Easily. Could look at her like this forever.

I can tell she’s considering, mulling it over in her head. Just as her lips part the ring of her phone interrupts the moment, the obnoxious sound blaring over the movie playing in the back. Of course. I can never have anything good. Just little tastes.

“Fuck,” Izzie mumbles and abruptly sits up as if suddenly thinking clearly. I climb off her, watching as she fumbles to find her phone.

“Here,” I catch it, handing it to her. It’s Kiran, her brother.

“Fuck, I promised I’d help him with his paper,” she groans, still trying to catch her breath.

“Uh, okay,” I murmur, attempting to catch mine, awkwardly shifting further on the couch, watching as the girl gets up and walks into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, leaving me there once again. Wanting more.

-

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[nickistuffs]

Hello Again Pt. 1

Pairing: Harry x Designer reader (curvy or plus size whatever you feel they should look like. This is my preference 😌)

Summary: This feels fated to meet again and again and again

Word Count: 18.08k

Warnings: None. just fluff and also a slow burn.

...

A ping from your email broke your concentration on work. You sighed, already assuming it was one of your manufacturers asking for yet another confirmation about a product you’d been working over for months. Without much thought, you clicked on the notification, ready to fire off a quick response.

To your surprise, the email wasn’t from a manufacturer—it was from Sam, your old friend and occasional collaborator. His subject line read: “Job Offer You Can’t Refuse.” Intrigued, you opened the email and quickly scanned its contents.

It seemed Sam had found you a project that piqued his interest—and yours. The pay was good, the timeline was tight, and the concept sounded straightforward.

You immediately picked up your phone and called him. No need for formalities; this was Sam, after all.

“Hey, Sam,” you said as soon as he answered, skipping any pleasantries. “What’s this mysterious job offer you’re dangling in front of me?”

“Oh, that.” He sounded smug, which only made you roll your eyes. “I’m under an NDA, so I can’t say too much, but it’s a pop-up store project. The whole thing needs to be modular and removable, so it can be packed up and relocated in two months. Easy, right? You in?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Of course, I’m in! Sounds simple enough. Send over the contract and details, and I’ll get started.”

“I knew I could count on you,” he said with a grin you could practically hear through the phone. “See you onsite, Y/N.” ...

The day of the meeting arrived, and you were ready—or so you thought.

Sam couldn’t make it and had entrusted you to lead the meeting solo, but you were used to working independently, so it wasn’t a problem. Dressed in a professional outfit that balanced comfort and confidence, you walked into the office where the meeting was being held.

As you glanced around at the product displays, your heart skipped a beat. You could already tell this was a high-profile client. Their products, branding, and visuals exuded quality and creativity.

As you tried to calm your nerves, the conference room door opened, and a group of people filed out.

A friendly woman approached you, pulling you back to reality.

“Hello, are you Ms. Y/N L/N?”

“Yes,” you replied with a polite smile, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I have a meeting with your visual merchandising manager.”

“Perfect, you’re our two o’clock appointment. Please come in.”

You stepped inside the sleek, minimalistic conference room and began setting up.

“Our lead designer just stepped out for a quick break,” the woman explained, handing you a water bottle. “They’ll be back in ten minutes and a few other designers. Is there anything else I can get you while you wait? Coffee?”

“Water is fine. Thank you,” you replied.

You opened your laptop, pulled up your notes and sketches, and jotted down a few ideas in your journal. You were mid-thought when the door opened behind you.

You turned, ready to greet whoever entered, but the words caught in your throat.

It was him. Harry Styles.

...

You both stared at each other, completely stunned. Of all the people you could run into at this meeting, it had to be him. You hadn’t seen Harry since your last encounter at Felice’s Café.

For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down, your mind scrambling to process his presence. He looked just as effortlessly charming as you remembered, his warm green eyes flickering with recognition and surprise.

Finally, Harry broke the silence, his voice smooth but slightly uncertain.

“Hello, I’m Harry Styles. I’m the owner of the company. Nice to meet you…?”

It took you a second to respond, your voice catching in your throat. “It’s Y/N. Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you as well.”

He smiled, extending a hand toward you. You scrambled to your feet, standing taller than you’d expected, and reached out to shake his hand.

Your hands met, and you shook it—a bit too long, you thought as the realization hit. The warmth of his hand lingered, making you feel like time had momentarily stopped again.

You quickly dropped your hand and clasped it behind your back, your face heating up.

For a split second, an awkward silence filled the room. Harry seemed like he was about to say something, his lips parting as if to speak—

But just then, the door opened, and a small group of people filed into the room, shattering the quiet bubble you’d both been trapped in.

“Ah, great,” said a cheerful man from the group, clapping his hands together as he approached. “Harry, you’re here. And this must be Ms. L/N!”

The moment was gone. Harry straightened, his expression shifting seamlessly to one of polite professionalism, though you caught a flicker of something in his eyes as he glanced back at you.

You offered a polite nod to the newcomers, forcing yourself to focus as introductions were made. Yet, as the meeting began, you couldn’t help but feel like something important had been left unsaid.

And judging by the way Harry occasionally glanced your way, he felt the same.

...

As the meeting progressed, Harry found himself quietly observing you. Initially, he’d assumed you might be shy or reserved—perhaps because of the nervous energy that had lingered when you first met. But as you delved into your presentation, he realized just how wrong he was.

The confidence with which you spoke captivated the room. Your tone was steady yet approachable, and your words were carefully chosen to articulate your vision. You presented your design concepts with precision, highlighting the intricate details and practical functionality behind each element.

Harry leaned forward slightly in his chair, his interest piqued. The way you seamlessly balanced creativity with logic was impressive. He could tell how much thought you’d put into this project—every choice seemed deliberate, every detail purposeful.

What surprised him most, however, was your ability to command the room. You weren’t just presenting; you were selling the design, painting a picture of how the concept would come to life. And the team was eating it up.

He stole a glance around the room. His team, typically quick to interject or challenge ideas, sat quietly, nodding along with your points. Even he couldn’t help but admire the way you navigated through the questions and feedback with such ease.

When you paused for questions, Harry cleared his throat and spoke, his voice cutting through the room.

“I really appreciate the thought you’ve put into the design—it’s incredibly well-considered. I do have a question, though,” he said, his tone genuinely curious. “You mentioned incorporating natural textures into the layout. Can you elaborate on how those elements will remain modular while still maintaining their aesthetic appeal?”

You turned to him, locking eyes for a brief moment. His question wasn’t just thoughtful—it showed that he’d been paying close attention to your presentation.

“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” you began, your voice steady. “That’s a great question. For the natural textures, such as reclaimed wood and stone-inspired finishes, I’ve ensured that they’re lightweight and easily removable. The modular framework uses a system of interchangeable panels, so the aesthetic can be retained without compromising functionality.”

Harry nodded, clearly impressed. “That makes sense. And it aligns well with what we’re trying to achieve here—something unique, but also adaptable. Nicely done.”

You gave him a polite smile, though inside, his compliment sent a ripple of pride through you.

As the meeting continued, Harry couldn’t help but feel drawn to the passion and expertise you brought to your work. There was something magnetic about the way you carried yourself—so composed and articulate, yet with a spark of creativity that set you apart.

And as the session wrapped up, he found himself wondering if this serendipitous reunion might be more than just a chance encounter.

As handshakes and congratulations were exchanged, the manager gave a final nod of approval, and Harry himself followed suit, offering his praise for your presentation. It had been a resounding success.

With most of the team filing out of the room, the buzz of conversation slowly faded, leaving you alone at the conference table, still stuffing your things into your bag. You were on a high from the meeting—everything had gone so smoothly, but the exhaustion from a long day was beginning to catch up.

Suddenly, you heard a soft cough. Looking up, you were surprised to see Harry still standing near the door.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, startled. “Are there any more questions you need from me, Mr. Styles?” You quickly adjusted your posture, feeling a bit flustered.

Harry smiled, the easy warmth you remembered from your past encounter resurfacing. “You can call me Harry,” he replied with a casual, almost reassuring tone. “I’m not too big on formalities. Can I call you Y/N?”

“That’s alright with me,” you answered with a smile, pleased by the friendly tone of the conversation. It felt much more natural now that the formality had faded.

A beat of silence passed before Harry spoke again, his eyes twinkling with a hint of curiosity. “So, how long have you been eating breakfast at Feli’s Café?”

You blinked, a bit taken aback by the question. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. “Oh, I’ve been going there for a while now. I usually grab a matcha latte and sometimes a sandwich. Feli’s a good friend of mine—she’s the one who got me hooked on her menu.”

Good thing I found your journal, your presentation was fantastic. Harry complimented.

Thank you again for giving it back. and sorry I was on a time crunch that I didn't introduce myself.

Harry chuckled softly, his expression warm.

You felt a sudden shift in the air between you two, the unspoken moment starting to surface. But before either of you could delve deeper into the conversation, a voice from the hallway interrupted the moment.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the manager popped his head back in, looking around. “But I just wanted to confirm we’re all set for the next steps, Y/N? Can we count on you for the design rollout next week?”

You gave a nod, quickly snapping back into professional mode. “Yes, everything is in order. I'll start on the proper revisions needed for the plans."

“Perfect,” the manager smiled, satisfied. “Thanks again for your excellent work today.”

As he left the room, you turned back to Harry, who was still standing near the door, clearly reluctant to leave just yet.

“I guess I should let you get back to your day,” you said, trying to break the lingering tension. “I’ll see you around, Harry.”

Harry’s smile widened, and he nodded slowly. “Definitely.”

...

It had been a month since you completed your work for Pleasing. You scrolled through their Instagram, admiring how your designs brought their brand to life. Seeing people lining up to buy their high-quality products filled you with a deep sense of pride.

You’d only seen Harry a handful of times during the project, but he always seemed busy, caught up in meetings or surrounded by other people.

Sighing loudly, you collapsed onto your bed, letting the exhaustion of the day wash over you. You had plans to join an art market this month, where you’d sell your prints, stickers, and other handmade knickknacks. It was something to look forward to, at least.

“Will we ever meet again?” you murmured to yourself, staring up at the ceiling. “I mean, what are the chances?” You already knew the answer before you even finished the thought. Harry was probably the busiest person you’d ever met, and you were just a nobody in his world.

Your heart felt heavy as you grappled with the cold, hard reality—he might have only been a fleeting moment in your life, a beautiful memory to cherish but not something meant to last. ...

A month had passed, and Harry still hadn’t been able to properly speak with you. He had been trying—desperately, in fact. He’d gone to the café where you first met, hoping to run into you again, but you never showed up, or you came at different times. He even tried catching you after work, but you were always whisked away to other locations or surrounded by people.

In a final act of determination, Harry had even approached HR for your contact information, but they refused to give it to him. Frustrated and defeated, he began to think maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

As he walked home one evening, his eyes caught on a brightly colored poster advertising an upcoming art market at the same location he frequented. He stared at it for a moment, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest before he brushed it off with a sigh. Maybe it was time to give up. Maybe it was never destined to happen.

But something about the poster lingered in his mind—a quiet, persistent thought that made him decide, almost on impulse, to go to the market anyway. Perhaps, by some happy chance, fate would intervene.

You were busy setting up your booth in the bustling market, carefully adjusting misaligned prints and rearranging trinkets to create the perfect display. The air buzzed with chatter and laughter, the atmosphere lively as other artists greeted passersby and showcased their work.

“Your paintings are just lovely, dear,” an elderly woman remarked, her eyes sparkling as she pointed to one of your pieces.

“They really are,” her partner chimed in with a warm smile. “We could hang one in the hallway, couldn’t we?”

“Excuse me, miss,” another potential buyer interjected, holding up one of your prints. “How much is this?”

“For the A4 size, it’s 25 pounds,” you replied with a friendly smile.

More people began to gather, drawn by the charm of your artwork. You did your best to keep up, answering questions, wrapping purchases, and making small talk with the growing crowd. It was a whirlwind, but you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride seeing so many people appreciating your work.

...

Walking through the bustling market, Harry wandered past the stalls he always loved to visit. He admired the fresh vegetables and fruits, browsed through racks of thrifted clothes, and flipped through stacks of vinyl records that always piqued his interest. But today, something different caught his attention—a special event featuring local artists who had been invited to showcase and sell their work.

As he turned toward the next stall, his eyes landed on something—or rather, someone.

It was you.

There you stood in front of your stall, surrounded by your artwork, speaking to customers with an energy that radiated warmth and passion. The light in your eyes, the way you animatedly gestured while describing your creations, the genuine smile that lit up your face—it was everything he remembered and more.

For a moment, Harry froze, rooted in place as he took it all in. You looked so at home in your element, effortlessly captivating the people around you. His heart raced, a mixture of excitement and nervousness coursing through him. But before doubt could creep in, before he could second-guess himself, he moved.

Harry started walking toward you, his steps quick and purposeful. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, but there was only one clear thought that anchored him: now or never.

This was his chance to finally talk to you—to close the distance that had been lingering between you both for far too long. He wasn’t going to let it slip away again.

...

It has been a good day so far. People were buying your prints, admiring your stickers, and complimenting your craftsmanship. You smiled to yourself, feeling content with the steady stream of visitors who appreciated your work.

Just as you reached for your water bottle, a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Hello, again, Y/N.”

You froze, the cap of your bottle slipping through your fingers. Slowly, you turned toward the source of the voice, your heart skipping a beat.

There he was—Harry. Standing there amidst the sea of market-goers, looking as effortlessly charming as ever in a white T-shirt, jeans, and sunglasses perched on his curls. His lips curved into a small, knowing smile as your eyes met.

“Harry?” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I thought it was you,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flickered over your stall, taking in the vibrant prints and trinkets on display. “This is all yours?”

You nodded, suddenly self-conscious. “Yeah, just a little side project I do. How…how did you find me here?”

“I didn’t,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I was just wandering around, and there you were. Funny how the universe works, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Yeah, funny.”

He looked around at your stall again, picking up one of your prints—a delicate watercolor of flowers intertwined with abstract shapes. “This is beautiful,” he said earnestly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the paper. “You’re really talented.”

“Thank you,” you said, warmth spreading through your chest at the compliment.

“Do you take commissions?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes intensely focused on you.

“Sometimes,” you said, tilting your head. “Why? Are you looking for something specific?”

“I might be,” he replied cryptically, his lips curving into a playful smirk. Before you could press him further, he added, “But first, do you have a break coming up? I was thinking I could buy you a coffee.”

Your breath caught at his unexpected offer. “A coffee?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging like it was the simplest thing in the world. “You’ve been on my mind lately, Y/N. Thought maybe this time we could actually catch up without a room full of people or work deadlines in the way.”

Your pulse quickened as you tried to process his words. Was he really asking you out, or was this just Harry being Harry—charming and polite?

“Well,” you started, glancing at your stall. “I do have a little time before the market closes…”

“Perfect,” he said with a grin. “I’ll wait for you to pack up, or we can just grab something nearby. Whatever works for you.”

As he spoke, the faint hum of the market seemed to fade into the background. For the first time in weeks, the heavy feeling in your chest lifted just a little. Maybe this wasn’t just a fleeting moment after all.

...

Okay, this is actually too long I’ll make it into two parts. Give you guys some suspense. Thank you for reading everyone! ☺️

[spideyhexx]

A miscellaneous night with mr coriolanus snow

this is longer than it was meant to be but also happy bday to me for writing😭enjoy :)

Coriolanus internally winced at the state of the elevator when he gestured for you to walk into the lobby of his apartment building. He was hoping all day that it would be magically fixed by maintenance, but he should have known better. 

He brushes his hair back at his left side and clears his throat, gesturing towards the stairs, “We’ll have to take those, I apologize.”

“No worries. We need the walking after taking the trolley,” you chuckle and nudge your elbow into his side, letting him take the lead. 

Coriolanus tries his hardest not to touch the spot on his side that you touched, afraid it’ll make his cheeks flush more than they already are. He manages a small laugh in response to your words. He had been adamant the two of you take the trolley since it was dark out and then adamant that he paid for you both. It was his last two tokens. Something he’ll tell himself tomorrow was a slip-up, but for now it was the best decision he could have made. 

You typically studied with him in the library after classes, but as of late, Coriolanus found talking about anything and everything with you to be more than splendid. Perhaps it’s because you knew of the Snow's state and never made a snide comment about it. Or the way your posture was ever so perfect. The way your leg crossed over the other, poised gracefully more times than not. There was an air of elegance about you, yet the way you spoke so kindly to him, so interested in him, reminded him of something warm and comforting. Not the fake elegance that many of his Capitol peers put on to form alliances and kiss-up to the ones above them. No. You were genuine, he decided, a long while ago. 

When the two of you reach his door, he takes the key out and turns it in the lock, silently praying that his grandmother was asleep already. To his luck, neither her or his cousin are in sight, and he locks the door behind him after you step in, setting the keys in a small dish tray in the foyer. 

“We can go to my room if you uh…,” he trails off as you look around the living space with a curious glint in your eye. 

Your eyes find the stained glass portrait of his father and he almost wants to yell your name to bring your attention to…to what? The fireplace? Dirty. The couch? Stiff. Himself? Too conceited. 

But you don’t speak a word on it and he breathes a sigh of relief. Your eyes fall on the stray mannequin draped in some dark blue fabrics and a smile graces your lips, “I suspect this is Tigris’ doing?”

“Yes. Her friend lent her some fabrics to mess with, but she hasn’t made a choice on what to do yet exactly. I don’t know why this is out here,” Coriolanus says as he takes a few steps closer to be at your side. 

“There’s good light in here,” you suggest, glancing to the windows where you can see the dilapidated building across the street. 

Coriolanus nods and follows your eyesight. He shifts on his heels, then toes, hands clasped to the strap of his book bag, “If I’m not doing my reading in my bedroom, it’s usually out here.”

The grin you give him almost makes him forget why he invited you over. Ah, yes. He had told you he had an edition of a history book written by your great uncle, that you so desperately wanted to get your hands on. Your family had none (because said uncle went rogue and joined the districts). Coriolanus is not sure why he had the book in his possession in the first place. It had to have been at the Academy and he forgot to return it, but after the uncle fled to whatever district he left for, they threw out any and all books written by the man. 

Part of him thinks he should be concerned as to why you want the book, but he’s read it himself. There’s nothing radical there that could turn you into something else to his memory. He offered to give the book to you. Coriolanus planned on bringing it to class the next day to give to you but you insisted it would be better to hand it off privately. He had a sneaking suspicion you just did not want to go home, but he didn’t push. 

At first, he was hesitant to let you come to his apartment. He had a multitude of plans in place to specifically keep his friends from not coming to his apartment. But he couldn’t find it in himself to follow any of them when it involved you. 

When he realizes it’s been silent for too long, he clears his throat, “My room is just this way,” and walks down the hall, wincing to himself at the creaky floorboards. 

He turns the knob and at first, the door doesn’t open. Coriolanus pushes his shoulder against his door as subtly as he can, which pushes it open and his cheeks heat up at your small chuckle. 

His room is not messy, but nothing to write home about. The only thing a little messy is his dresser, which had a drawer open a shirt hanging out of it that he quickly, subtly, pushes into the drawer and closes it. 

“Oh my god,” you say and he freezes, wondering what he’s left out that warrants that reaction. 

He watches you walk over to his bed and point at the stuffed dog that lies next to his pillow. He’d like to be swallowed whole right about now. 

“That’s so cute. He needs a wash though.”

You think it’s cute? Oh, he’s in over his head. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, he needs a wash, I guess,” Coriolanus mutters, putting his book bag down on his desk chair and watching you carefully pick it up. 

“Does he have a name?”

“Horace.”

“Naturally,” you mumble, holding the stuffed dog up as though you are examining it. “I like him.”

“Just don’t go telling everyone at school, they’ll have a whole laugh about it,” he chuckles. He’s trying to come off as joking, but he’s also maybe completely serious. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Coryo, I won’t mention it.” You put the dog down gently next to his pillow, patting it’s head twice, then you set your book bag on the floor. 

He gestures to his room once your eyes meet his, “I know this isn’t much but-”

“Coryo.” 

The look you give him makes him shut his mouth and he lets his shoulders ease only the slightest bit. He barely realized how tense he had been. 

“It’s still your room. That’s nice. I don’t care what it looks like,” you tell him and each word hits right through to his heart. 

He nods and then clears his throat, turning to his small bookshelf to find the book for you, “It might be a little dusty, but I haven’t touched it since I read it.” Pulling out the gray spine of the book, he blows over it, grimacing at the dust and then brushes off the cover, handing it over to you. 

Coriolanus feels a sense of pride in his chest at how happy you look, clutching it to yourself and then looking at the forward, “Thank you, Coryo. I’ll let you cheat off my biology exam for this.”

He chuckles, “I don’t need that.”

“I know,” you say, and a lull falls over the two of you. For the first time, he sees you be the one to clear your throat awkwardly and you bend down to grab your bag. 

Coriolanus thinks himself a respectful man, but he does look at your thighs as you do. He rationalizes that it’s fine because that one time in seventh grade he was pantsed and you saw his thighs so who cares if now he’s-

“Coryo.” 

He blinks and returns his gaze to your face, “yes?” 

“Is it cool if I stay a little longer?”

He’s nodding before he’s speaking, but maybe he should have thought it through. Maybe it was bad to have you stay. Distraction. That’s what you are, really. Or are you? You do study with him and the studying has definitely helped him over the past year. So is it really a distraction? 

Staying a little longer turns into two hours passing.

Coriolanus tells you about his neighbors across the street and how he loves people watching from his window. You relay your own people watching stories and he shares laughs harder than he has in recent weeks. 

You’ve migrated to his bed, feet on the ground, but your back against the stiff mattress. Coriolanus sits backwards in his desk chair, facing you, and after another bout of silence, he says, “That cannot be comfortable.”

“It is if you tell yourself it is.”

He snorts. Since when does he do that?

“No. I know my bed. That’s not comfortable,” he sighs, “I’m sure your bed is miles better.”

Your face twists up into an emotion he cannot decipher. Distaste? Disgust? Contempt? Whatever it is, he feels as though he’s said something wrong, so he jumps to say, “I didn’t mean like-”

“It is more comfortable, but I’m okay here.”

Coriolanus wonders if he’s on the precipice of learning something new about you. He’s never been to your residence. Only heard of your high-achieving father and high-achieving mother. You rarely talked about them, other than to occasionally complain about their pressure on you. 

“Will they be worried about where you are right now? Your parents, I mean,” he says in the softest tone he can muster. He prepares what to say in case you blow him off. 

“I called them while we were in the library. When you went to the bathroom.”

“Ah,” he nods, “And?”

“And…they don’t mind. Though I should go back before midnight,” you glance over at his small clock on his nightstand. “I would just rather be anywhere else tonight. It's too stuffy there.”

Coriolanus wants to laugh. Stuffy? In your nice, expensive, big apartment? “Why’s that?”

“Cause they just…,” you trail off and gesture aimlessly with your hand, “they’re always a lot, okay? But on my birthday? Fuck, they’re even worse. I would much rather spend it with someone I like, hence,” you gesture again, but to him this time. 

Coriolanus wants to celebrate the small victory that you like him, but he pauses. “Birthday? It’s your birthday?”

You turn your head so you’re able to see him while still laying down, “yeah.”

His eyes widen then he chuckles, “and you didn’t mention?” He feels bad he didn’t know. He should have, right? But the fact you hadn’t told him and he didn’t see anyone mentioning your birthday today tells him you seldom want people to know. 

“Didn’t feel the need to.”

“Right. Well, happy birthday to you,” he says, his voice having a slight sing-songy lilt to it at the end and it gets you laughing. He can’t wait to tell Tigris about this tomorrow.

“Thank you, Coryo. And I meant it. I’m glad to be spending it here with you,” you say and he watches your hands fiddle like you’re nervous. 

A rush of boldness overcomes him and he stands from the desk chair and plops down on his bed right next to you, his arm fully against yours. Shoulder to shoulder. Coriolanus stares at the ceiling, inhaling deep, “I wish I knew how to bake. I’d make you…I don’t know…double-double chocolate cake?”

“You remembered!” 

He laughs and nods, recalling the very chocolatey cake you had three slices of at a party the Plinth’s were throwing a couple of months ago. He wonders if that’s the day he decided you were worth being distracted. 

“Do you remember my favorite pie?” 

You narrow your eyes to think, turning to look at him. He mimics the face you’re making, which causes you both to dissolve into giggles. 

“Blackberry. Or pecan,” you finally say and he nods, “Yes to both.”

His index finger twitches and touches your fingers as he studies your face. The soft smile on your lips and the slight tiredness in your eyes. Your hair is less kept than it had been earlier, which feels so unlike you, but you are being so you right now that it doesn’t matter in the slightest. He’s sure his own curls are out of order. 

Coriolanus keeps lightly lingering his fingers on yours, his voice a drop quieter, “Do you ever think that…everything you’ve worked hard for…can be lost because you…care too much?”

You look taken aback at the question at first, then you settle. His heart jumps when you let your hand hold to his instead of the dance your fingers had been doing. “I guess sometimes I do. Caring a lot is painful in many ways but…it’s also…”

“Nice,” he finishes in a whisper. Coriolanus doesn’t intend to look at your lips, but he does and he’s sure you notice. 

“It’s nice and…shows others how passionate you truly are.” You decide, playing with his fingers instead of your own. 

“But isn’t it also a weakness? Something others can pick out and use against you?”

Your brow furrows slightly in thought, “Sure…but you just have to be smarter than those against you so they can’t exploit it. And I happen to know for a fact that you, Coriolanus Snow, are one of the smartest people I have and will ever meet.”

The weight in his chest melts and smiles, not sure how to respond to such a grand compliment, other than saying, “Snow lands on top.”

It makes you laugh. A full laugh that has you gripping to his hand firmly and somehow bringing the two of you closer until you rest your chin near his shoulder, “You’re aware that that is extremely cheesy, right?”

“Oh, always,” he mumbles, and takes that risk of looking at your lips in a more obvious way, and he tries to convince himself that he’s imagining it when you shift closer. Your nose brushes and he envisions a world where he can kiss you whenever he wants. Where he can make you happy and laugh the way you just did forever. 

“At least you’re self-aware.”

“I’m incredibly self-aware,” Coriolanus mutters, as your nose brushes and nudges to his. It’s like a dance of who’s gonna make the jump first. 

You grin and bite your cheek to lessen it. His heart feels like bursting out of his chest and he wishes he wasn’t holding your hand because he’s definitely getting clammy. But he can’t think of that. There’s no way Coriolanus can dwell on the other parts of his body when your lips are so close that he can feel your breath on his lips. That he can see your eyes go through the thought process, wondering if you should kiss him or if you should let him kiss you first. 

You’re not sure who does it first, but your lips meet in a gentle touch. Hesitant on both ends, yet searing with an undeniable surge of something warm. Something satisfying. Coriolanus is the one to deepen it. Squeezing to your hand (for his sake), he tilts his head and kisses you deeper, memorizing the feel of your lips on his. When you shift on the bed to turn more towards him, he doesn't break the kiss, not even when he feels your hand rest near the collar of his shirt, like you’re tugging him in. 

When you inevitably break for a breath, he chases after you, only to pause and clear his throat from embarrassment. 

“Sorry, I was just-” Your lips find his once more and Coriolanus melts into it, letting you bring his hand to the side of your face right when your tongue slides along his lower lip. He hopes he’s not a bad kisser, but when you hum into his mouth and rub your hand to his neck, the confidence surges in him. 

He’s not sure how long the two of you kiss, on and off, tongue and no tongue, wandering hands that never quite go to places more intimate. But when you break off and duck your head into his neck, resting against his side, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around you and bring you closer. His lips find the top of your head, kissing there, and rubbing your arm. 

When you fall asleep against him, he fights with himself over whether to wake you and get you home safely, or to let you stay there in his arms. Coriolanus will mull it over in a couple of minutes. For now, he relishes in the moment. Who knows if he’ll let himself have it again. 

[smileybasics]

Defending @lil-liaa

I usually don’t post in this blog cause i have other ones but i don’t think this is being fair, me and Lia have been moots for a year and I have seen all her work over the years, I don't know a more creative person than her and I have been with her while she makes her moodboards by call and it is simply impressive the hours she invests in doing it, today I She wrote so devastated and we made a call talking, she has worked on this for so long, I remember how excited she was when she reached 1k, what I mean is that her community and her blog are very important to her, these people are accusing her because three Posts are similar to those of other blogs and that seems stupid to me since you have not even seen her other posts to know if she really makes an effort or not, Lia has made collages, dividers, banners, and a lot of other things, to she is really passionate about digital art and the only time she left her blog was because of the loss of a loved one and the truth is I don't care how many people are going to believe me after this post I just want them to leave her alone, here I am attaching some evidence...

This doesn’t even have so much in common just a three pics, in case you don’t know how moodboards are made, 2 or more colors are taken as a base and the images that best match the tones are searched on Pinterest, not only what she "copied" are just two photos but she also made a divider and a collage

Here’s just pinterest pics (proofs that are from pinterest in keep reading) and again i saw a lot of rude comments towards her that so unfair and hurt feelings cause considering how long Lia has been on her blog it's like invalidating all her hard work!!

In this post she even clarify that the divider isn’t made by her but the collage it is, also it’s just 2 pics that are similar!

This pictures are from pinterest, everyone can use it!

People bullying her

This doesn't just happen on the internet, but in real life, one of Lia's moots simply republished the post where they accused her of copying, she asked him/her why he/her did it so quickly, If they were supposed to be moots, if someone betrays you so quickly without questioning anything, they were never your friend and instead of responding privately she/him made a post just to make her/him moots laugh and the comments are gross, my god it's disgusting, this is directly bullying, if you are a thinking person and if you have ever had some kind of link you should try to talk something privately instead of calling the crazy girl and tagging all your moots so they can laugh, the worst thing is that you can tell that this girl only wants interaction because when she and Lia were chatting she threatened Lia with blocking her but then when Lia blocked her she made another post like "she blocked me" it's like, besides being a treacherous rat you can't have the decency to talk to her about it, Lia has been so nice to everyone but after all, this is where you can see who the ones who truly supported her are, and not the fake friends.

I'm not going to censor his/her username, he deserves it, tumblr is as much as real life, the importance of moots is like friends in real life, because if you want you can just harass someone and all your friends will laugh without question anything.

Also, Lia has a tutorial of a lot of things that she made! If she knows how to do it, why would she steal or copy from other blogs?

She has tutorials of gifs, texts, banners, etc, if she really stole and copy, why she knows how to do it by herself?, and if she knows how to do it by herself she doesn’t even need to stole!

LIKE SHE DIDN’T CARE?! Sorry but this is so wrong, i can tell that, SHE CARES, all these people who are making posts mocking her and calling her crazy because according to them she "copied" three measly posts, when if I were in her place and all my years of work were at stake I would also act like a crazy person because it's worth it, here it is demonstrated clearly her hypocrisy, if Lia wants to defend all her hard work or defend herself from bullying by blocking you she is crazy but if she makes a post explaining everything it seems like she doesn't care, this frustrates me so much

Here more evidence of Lia’s drafts

Just a few of her drafts

And last but not least I want to give credit to Lia's great work these years, so you can see that there is a true artist behind all this nonsense controversy, here are some of her moodboards, my personal favorites that I can't imagine how much time it would have taken

Extra: “Lia we know it’s you” Don’t acuse me of being Lia, i’m just a real friend

Evidence: Contact of Lia and me

Hi guys, it's come to my attention that someone in the moodboard community known as lil-liaa has been copying / taking heavy "inspo" from other creators like @y-unjins and @iluvrei view more for more info + evidence + my opinions on the whole situation

before i start, i'm not trying to run lil-liaa off the platform nor am i trying to stur up drama, this is just to bring light to the situation as not many people know and many people (including myself) defended her when this first happened, i also want liia to realize that what she's doing isn't right and that she shouldn't just brush off "accusations" like these when there is evidence.

proofs

you can see the similarities as lil-liaa used 3 of the exact same pics as iluvrei's including one edited by the original creator without adding credits to the post.

2nd

here you can instantly tell that the moodboard was copied (lil-liaas on the right being an exact replica of y-unjins), only changing 2 pics excluding the idol change and

3rd / last

lastly, you can see how one lia used the exact same divider (+ didnt give creds), two she uses the same images not only in the moodboard but also in her gif (same pics from y-unjins moodboard including the png)

now, lil-liaa was sent multiple anonymous ask from last year and one recently accusing her of stealing moodboards, although a lot of people defended her last year including me due to the ask having no sorts of proof of moodboards being stolen and no one else speaking on it but now the recent ask she has received included proof and her response to it was very (in my opinion) rude and just sounded like she didn't care.

in my opinion, i don't believe this was just a draft she had premade and i don't believe she somehow got the same exact photos from y-unjins moodboard recommended, i believe since this isnt the first accusation and now there's proof of this i believe she has been copying moodboards since last year when she was accused. i don't believe lil-liaa cares about this, the fact she's stealing from other creators and when she gets called out for it she pushes it off with the same excuses

tags

@miujo @rkkuri @lvioung @ciestial @aeraras @sugarish @gyareii @i-kyujin @daddldee @i-mmaculatus @haerinism @chaeryeos @bloomqi @h-yeoni @p-oisn @bitchey @yeritos @yonkiibums @y-vna @y-urios @fairytopea @shuaver @yeoniis

[isagispuzzle]

Hihi, congrats on 200 followers!! I'm a relatively new follower, and im absolutely OBSESSED with your writing (speaking of which, I apologize if I have been spam liking. I try not to but damn I really need your work injected into my brain or something)

Anyways, could I request childhood friends to lovers for your event? I don't know how or why but one day something just clicked in my brain and it's been my favorite troupe for years

thank you so much for your support!! i love it when people spam like my stuff because i just imagine someone sitting down to read what i've written, and it makes me so happy to know my writing is letting someone enjoy a few minutes of their day hehe, i hope you'll enjoy this little piece too!

itoshi rin is bad news. at least, that's what your classmates tell you in the stands of the u-20 match.

even though you've known him since he was barely a metre tall, it's the first time you've seen him like this. rin is darting across the field with crazed eyes and his tongue out, engulfed by a desperation that puts the despair he felt on the night sae came home to shame.

you can't jump to his defence this time, though. ever since you were kids, rin would smash his toys together so hard the plastic crumbled in his hands and tell you how and when he wants to die, although kids that age have barely started to think about living. so you keep your mouth shut but your heart hopeful, because despite his destructive tendencies, rin is still your friend, and deep in his eyes, you still see his seven year old self.

it's hard not to blame sae for this. you know how much rin respected his brother when they were younger, but you also know how their relationship soured, at least on rin's side of the story. you tamp down the resentment. no matter how much blame you want to throw around, it doesn't change that what rin needs is reprieve.

days later when rin hugs you at the dock, he thanks you. it's rare for a sixteen year old boy to speak so vulnerably, what's more if said teenage boy is itoshi rin, so you listen silently, lest the moment breaks.

rin doesn't elaborate further, but he hopes his heart gets through to you. he hopes you know how grateful he is for your tenderness, even when he's anything but. he hopes you continue to welcome him into your arms and trace featherlight circles on his back, and hopes you continue to come to his matches and never look away no matter what ugly side of him comes out on the field. he hopes you know how terrified he is right now, placing his heart in your palms and his neck to your blade.

it's only when rin feels your fingers in his hair that he realises he's mistaken. you've never held a knife to his pulse. instead, you give him your toys when he breaks his, you bring your friends to amplify your cheers for him in the crowd, and you're the one with your heart in his cold, calloused hands.

you've always been the salvation to his destruction, and unlike everything else he's ever laid his hands on, rin swears to never break your heart.

[tanadrin]

I am sorry for the anon but I feel too vulnerable to come off due to the nature of my question.

I am slowly losing friends due to my refusal to engage in negative/nihilistic/doomer views of the future. My friends are 1000% convinced Trump and Republicans are going to crash the economy on purpose, leading to a depression, and carry out a Gilead situation. I told one of my friends the other day how, despite everything and the political situation, I am trying to be as positive as possible - or at least neutral. Her response to me was, "Why? I don't understand your optimism. You know they're going to enslave us all like in The Handmaid's Tale, right?" and it has become so dreadful now to interact with them. Anytime I disagree, they try to intellectually dominate me or put me under them in a way where I have no choice but to just leave the conversation.

I know this was a lot. But is there any advice you might have for someone like me? Because I sometimes feel like I am being painted as crazy. I know things will be hard but they genuinely want me to believe I have no future and I can't stand that.

Also, would it be too much to ask if you maybe mind sharing some of the other people/blogs you follow?

I once heard advice on dealing with Qanon family members who had fallen down the rabbit hole and only ever wanted to talk about conspiracy theories or the outrage bait they'd seen on Fox News or OANN or whatever, about not challenging them on their views but basically saying "I don't want to talk about this; let's talk about our plans for the weekend, or what movie we wanna go see later, or what interesting books you've read lately." The idea being, arguing with someone can only further entrench their beliefs, and if you really want to shake someone out of their dismal universe of conspiracism, it helps to remind them of all the things that aren't the fear-and-anger-activating content they're stuffing their brains with for hours every day.

Maybe something like this could help? I have a hard time imagining that someone really believes The Handmaid's Tale really is just around the corner--if you really believed that, surely you would be trying to flee to Canada or doing some political volunteer work or something--and sometimes doomer stuff can be kind of reflexive or phatic, like making a crack about how your retirement plan is to die in the water wars or something. But even if it isn't, I don't think there's any point in trying to argue about this stuff in the moment. Instead try to build on the things you still find fulfilling in that friendship, the conversations and interests and activities with those friends that caused you to become friends in the first place.

If you can't do that--if hanging out with them is always a constant grind of full-throttle doomerism, and they express no interest in actually trying to do something with their feelings of anger and frustration--you are perfectly within your rights to spend less time around them. You could, if you wanted to and you felt that you owed them at least that, give them a heads up as to why. If a close friend of mine or a family member was doing this, I would certainly talk to them about it. But your obligation to subject yourself to someone else's self-destructive idee fixe is not bottomless. Even with a partner you are within your rights to eventually say "I'm not going to talk about this with you anymore."

(And that's not only true of politics or conspiracy theories, by the way! If you have a close friend or family member or partner who--for example--has severe depression but refuses to seek treatment for it, you are not obligated to be the sponge for their misery forever every time they need someone to talk to. If someone in your life is in a relationship or a job that is making them miserable, and won't do anything to leave that relationship or find a new job, and just wants a friend to complain to, you are within your rights to eventually shut that down. Lots of people fall into a holding pattern in their life where they are unhappy but unable to do anything about it, and they will make this their friends' or loved ones' problem. That doesn't make them bad people: lord knows I have found myself doing this before. It's a very human thing to do. But sometimes the Good Friend Thing is to say "I love you, and will support you if you want to actually *do something* about your situation, but otherwise, oh my god shut the fuck up." But, you know, nicely.)

But if your friends want to make themselves miserable because hanging on to an endless stream of toxicity and doomerism from social media (and I will bet this is primarily coming from social media) is more important to them than your friendship, and they can't handle you not agreeing with them, you may lose them as friends. If you do, I'm sorry. That sucks. It's hard to lose friends, and it's even harder later in life when making new friends is more difficult, and I don't want to pretend like that's not a big deal.

[delilahsturniolo]

𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒓’𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 — 𝒄.𝒔 ᥫ᭡⋆˚࿔

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 . . . 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 💌

in which . . . y/n and chris attend boston university, the both of you are always competing and bickering with each other academically. one day, chris suddenly asks you to help him make his ex jealous. the only problem is, you can’t stand each other. what happens when chris can no longer keep his true feelings about you a secret?

warnings . . . academic rivals, fake dating, enemies to lovers. mentions of alcohol & weed, cursing.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

one, two

you gently dabbed your makeup brush against your cheek, blending in your blush. when you finished, you popped open your tube of strawberry frosting flavored lipgloss and spread it across your lips, smacking them afterward. you were currently getting ready for a party that chris insisted you went to with him, he mentioned that victoria was going to be there. nick and matt were also accompanying you both, since mary lou told them they needed to get out of the house, especially matt.

your phone buzzed with an incoming text message, you picked up your phone, seeing a text from matt saying that the three of them were outside and waiting. you shoved a few things into your purse before going downstairs, saying bye to your parents and opening the front door. you saw the triplets’s car in your driveway. chris was driving, while matt and nick sat in the back seats together, purposefully leaving the passenger seat empty for you to sit in. great, just great.

you walked over to the car, opening the door and climbing into the passenger seat. “are you two serious?” you whined, looking at the two brothers in the backseat, trying to stifle their laughter of success in their plan. “cmon, buckle up. we don’t have all night.” chris scolded you, causing you to shoot him a dirty glare and buckle your seatbelt.

chris backed out of the driveway, and began driving over to the house that the party was being held at. you weren’t really the type to party, you’d honestly prefer to be at home and in your bed more than anything. but, a deal was a deal. around 15 minutes later, the four of you arrived. chris parked the car before you all got out.

“alright, we meet back here by 11. don’t do drugs, make good choices, y’know the deal.” chris explained to his brothers, matt nodded and started heading into the house, nick clinging onto him like a lost puppy. chris turned his head to look at you. “y’ready?” he asked, you took a deep breath. “yup.” you confirmed, chris gave you an unexpected reassuring smile before he started walking into the house, you followed behind him, staying by his side the entire time. you didn’t know anyone at this party, after all. it was mostly popular kids, that you didn’t associate yourself with.

neon lights flashed throughout the house, loud voices were shouting over the music that was being blasted. the smell of alcohol and weed filled the air, which was unpleasant. the place was absolutely packed, you had no idea where nick and matt had disappeared to. chris suddenly wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him so he wouldn’t lose you through the crowd. his touch sent shivers down your spine, but it felt…comforting?

“yo! sturniolo!” a random guy in sunglasses shouted, whom you assumed to be chris’s friend. chris waved and walked over, keeping you attached to his side. you stayed quiet, standing by chris’s side as he chatted with his friends. you didn’t want to seem like a loner, so you just followed chris the entire time. it might’ve been lame, but you weren’t as popular as chris was.

you sighed in annoyance, you didn’t want to be here at all. you felt so—out of place. you tapped chris’s shoulder, he turned his head to look at you. “i’m gonna get a drink!” you shouted, your voice muffled over the noise. chris nodded, barely even acknowledging you. you huffed and walked away, going over to the drink table. you grabbed a plastic red cup, placing it under the pitcher of cranberry juice and filling your cup.

you took a sip of your juice before beginning to walk back to where chris was. but, you didn’t get far. you grunted as someone bumped into you, making your drink splash all over your clothes. you gasped, the red liquid seeping through your clothes. you lifted your head to see who bumped into you.

victoria. of course.

she gave you a fake smile. “oops.” victoria grinned. your eyes widened at her, a few people stopped their conversations and stared at you. to say this was embarrassing was an understatement. your eyes darted to chris who stood in the corner, staring at you and victoria in shock.

you glanced at victoria with anger one last time before storming off, you scoffed as her high pitched giggle made your ears bleed. you made your way through the crowd, breathing in and out heavily in panic. your clothes were a mess, this whole night was a mess, all you wanted to do was cry. you went up the stairs of the house, the music of the party was now muffled as you went into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

you were so embarrassed, more than embarrassed. you couldn’t believe it, why would victoria do that to you? you thought for a moment, you usually never really had a problem with victoria, you knew she despised you, but she had never really done anything to act on it. you honestly felt a bit better about the situation, the goal was to make her jealous after all. the plan was to make her jealous so chris could get her back. but, the thought of that made you feel uneasy.

a firm fist knocked on the bathroom door, making you jump. “it’s occupied!” you shouted, your voice shaking more than you intended. “y/n? it’s chris, can you open the door f’me?” chris spoke to you on the other side of the door. his voice sounded, caring..?

you slowly opened the door, chris held a plastic bag in his hands, slowly extending his arm out to hand it to you. “i uh—i brought you a change of clothes…they’re mine so, they might be a bit big.” chris explained to you. you smiled at his kind gesture, taking the bag of clothes. “thank you, chris.” you replied in a sincere tone, you could tell he felt horrible about what happened.

“yeah, i’ll be downstairs when you’re done okay? i’ll find matt and nick so we can leave.” chris gave you a smile of reassurance for the first time in your life, he walked off and you shut the door again. why was he being so…nice? you could’ve sworn he didn’t care about you one bit.

you opened the plastic bag, seeing a matching fresh love hoodie and sweatpants. you took off your cranberry juice soaked clothes, putting them into the plastic bag and changing into the new set of clothes. the hoodie fit fine, but the sweatpants were absolutely huge, even tying the drawstrings didn’t help. fuck.

you held the waist of the sweatpants up as you opened the door, practically running downstairs where the party was, trying to find chris. you found matt, nick, and chris standing in a corner of the party, talking to a few people, chris turned his head to look at you. “you good?” he spoke loudly over the music.

“it’s loose.” you told him, he snickered slightly, making you roll your eyes. chris grabbed your waistband, holding it up. “y/n’s pants are falling down, we gotta go.” chris joked as he told nick and matt. the triplets said goodbye to everyone, chris held onto your loose waistband to prevent your pants from falling down as he lead you out of the party and back to the car, to save you from having another moment of embarrassment.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

[lurkingshan]

Following the latest spicy happenings, I just wanted to share again my own perspective on fandom etiquette and tumblr interaction for folks who follow or engage with me on here. I've been clear about my boundaries here, and people who choose not to respect that get what they get. I tend to write with a clear perspective and let my words speak for themselves, and while I love to discuss and even have friendly disagreements, I don’t bother responding to folks who are clearly not engaging in good faith. I block when it rises to the level of blatant rudeness or when someone is developing an unhealthy fixation.

That said, there’s really no need to be dramatic about getting blocked on tumblr. Blocking doesn't mean anything except that you don't want to engage with a person or their content anymore, for any number of reasons that are all perfectly fine and valid, because this is your curated space. It doesn't make us sworn enemies. We're all just internet strangers and no one owes you their time and attention.

If you couldn't tell, I am a fandom old. I've been in and around various fandoms, on tumblr and in lots of other online spaces, for multiple decades. I used to dwell in Western fandom spaces in the era when TV and book series were much, much longer and people had flame wars and knock down, drag out fights over canon interpretations that lasted for literal years. In comparison, today's version of fandom bickering is much milder, and extreme sensitivity about even the gentlest of critical analysis is just silly to me. In terms the youths will understand: some of y’all wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

I’m not here to be popular with everyone (that’s not possible nor a healthy goal). I’m here to write about the things I care about and connect with other folks who also enjoy discussing those things in a similar or complementary fashion. If that’s not you, and you want to unfollow or block to protect your peace, that’s completely fine and I’m not holding a grudge.

So let me be clear. Once I've blocked or been blocked by someone, I am not bothered about what they're saying or doing. I'm not squatting on their blog on the web to read their posts. I'm not asking friends to keep tabs on their commentary so I can respond to it. I'm not creating side blogs or burner accounts to slyly continue following them. I'm not going on anon to send them mean asks. All of that is weirdo behavior and deeply disrespectful of a boundary that’s been set. Once I've blocked you, or you've blocked me, I am just not thinking about you at all.

[secretl1fe0fm3]

can’t take it back once it’s been set in motion ~ matty healy

this is slightly inspired by my favorite ovulation song; oxytocin by billie eilish :P (also this is my first one shot so please be nice!!)

warnings: smut, inexperienced!reader, service top!matty, slight power imbalance, excessive use of the word ‘love’, matty going down soft sound, aftercare, soft(ish) dom!matty, sub!reader.

18+ minors dni!!!

3k+ words

You sigh lightly as your phone lights up your pitch black room, mocking your current state of insomnia. You had set it down over an hour ago to try and force yourself to sleep, but even with a lack of the blue light, you were still wide awake. Sitting up, you reach for your phone and notice an unknown number calling you. Already being unable to sleep, you decide to entertain whoever could possibly be calling you at this hour. Ultimately, deciding to answer.

“Hello?” You speak slowly and softly, still somewhat tired despite being unable to sleep.

“Thank god you answered.” Said the voice, relieved, on the other end of the line.

“Matty?” You could recognize that voice anywhere, even though you were seventy percent sure you were hallucinating right now.

“Im sorry to bother you at this hour, love. I need your help.” Matty breathes out, his voice sounding rushed. You groan to yourself, barely audible. You and Matty had been friends for years, meeting through a mutual friend, but you haven’t heard from him in almost two years until now. He practically ghosted your friendship when he found himself in a new, yet toxic relationship. But, based on the headlines you had read the other day scrolling twitter, they had finally called it quits.

Sitting up, you put your phone on speaker, and sit it in your lap. “Matty, what the fuck do you need?” You’re pissed, but your voice not showing any more than a slight annoyance.

“I need you to come pick me up, take me back to mine. My buddies dragged me out with them to get over, well, you know. Long story short, they are all shit-faced, none of them fucking coherent, and my god damn car service app isn’t working.” He sounds genuinely stressed. “My phones about to die as well, which is bloody fucking fantastic.” Matty grumbles into the phone.

You sit there, momentarily debating your options. You could leave him there, make him figure his shit out on his own. But you also have a soft spot for him after everything, knowing, if anything, he’s not the same person who deserted your friendship a few years ago. A deliberate exhale leaves your mouth, choosing the latter.

“Yeah, okay. Just text me your location before your phone dies. I’ll be there soon.” You hear him start to thank you, but you hang up quickly, not letting him get another word out. Deciding to keep your satin pajama shorts and bra on, you throw a hoodie over and slide on your sneakers. Groaning while grabbing your car keys off the kitchen island, you set off to your car, driving to Matty’s current location.

As you pull up to the bar, you recognize Matty leaning up against the wall, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Nothing has changed. You also notice none of his friends are anywhere to be seen. Odd. Driving up next to where Matty is standing, you roll down your window and his eyes catch yours.

“Long time no see, love.” Matty’s lips twist up into a smirk. Nothing. Has. Fucking. Changed. You watch him stub out his cigarette on the brick wall and toss it into the trash can by him. He climbs into your car shortly after. “Missed your face, thanks for coming to get me.”

Letting out an immediate scoff at his nonchalant behavior, you decide to ignore his comment. “So, Im taking you back to yours, right?”

You feel Matty’s eyes rake over your body, burning into your skin. You can smell some alcohol on him, though you know he’s not a big drinker, only having a glass or two of wine usually, and choosing to stick to his cigarettes or weed. He’s not drunk, so why is he looking at you like that.

“Of course, love.” He speaks lowly, eyes still stuck on you. You decide to disregard his use of the pet name and put your car into drive, pulling off onto the main road.

The drive to Matty’s house was maybe fifteen minutes at most, and yet it felt like an eternity with his eyes fixed on you. It’s almost like he couldn’t believe you actually came to pick him up, not being able to come to terms that you were finally seeing each other after two years.

Pulling up to Matty’s house brought back so many memories, and important moments you two had shared over the years of your friendship. His driveway led you to his front door, as you put your car in park, you finally glance over at Matty, who’s staring attentively. Under the glow of the exterior lights on his house, you notice he’s wearing tight black jeans, a dark belt, blank tank top, and a satin dress shirt. His long curly hair is slicked back slightly, with his sunglasses sitting on top of his head.

“Like what you see?” Matty implies cockily, eyes never leaving yours.

“It’s a fucking Monday.” You glare at him. “Why were you out on a fucking Monday, don’t you think you’re too old for this bullshit?” Continuing to ignore his playful comments, you squint your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. You slightly feel bad for picking arguments with him, but his remarks are starting to make you feel some type of way.

Matty laughs out loud at your comment, the sudden deep laugh makes you jump a bit. “Lighten up a bit, love.” He nudges his elbow into your arm. You continue to frown at him, clearly not finding anything amusing. Matty falls silent, realizing how upset you actually are. “Look, why don’t you come inside? I can make you some tea, and we could watch a movie like old times?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, waiting on an answer.

Your eyes bore into his. “Fine.” Turning off your car, you and Matty step out, walking up to his front door. He unlocks his door and steps to the side, motioning for you to come in. You take off your sneakers and set them on the mat, walking over to his living room and sitting down on his massive couch. He joins you promptly, sitting right next to you, a little too close for the amount of spots he could’ve picked from.

“Still a little bratty? Huh?” He asks casually, not once looking up at you as he turns on his TV.

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widen at his sudden judgement.

“Bratty. You’ve always been a little brat, love. It’s cute, though. Never minded it. Some things just never change.” He chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

Can’t take it back once it’s been set in motion

Your mouth is agape, taken aback by his words, struggling to make a counter remark.

“I see no one’s ever tried putting you in your place yet.” Matty hums absentmindedly, setting the remote down and glancing over at your shocked face.

You know I love to rub it in like lotion.

Pink flushes on your cheeks and neck as you stare at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say next. "I- what?" You stumble over your words, mouth suddenly dry.

Matty moves closer, invading any personal space you were clinging onto. His hand falls on your thigh, squeezing as he keeps his eyes locked on yours. "Oh, you heard me loud and clear, love. Don't play stupid now." He whispers, eyes flickering to your lips momentarily.

You lose the ability to speak, eyes unable to leave his. "Matty-" He cuts you off.

"C'mon darling, I saw how you were looking at me in the car, and how eager you were to come pick me up tonight, even after all this time"

I can see it clear as day.

The blush on your cheeks deepens as you feel his hot breath fan across your skin, creating goosebumps up your arms. You grab onto his forearm, putting your other hand on his chest, trying to keep a small distance between you two. Matty was very attractive, you couldn't deny it. But your inexperience was making you hesitate, unsure of how to handle his advances.

Before you could react, Matty reached his hand out and placed it on your cheek, the other still resting on your thigh, squeezing tighter than before. His face was only centimeters away from yours as he breathes out, "Tell me to stop and I will. But you don't want me too, do you, love?"

You don't really need a break.

You close your eyes tightly, feeling flustered at his words. A warmth growing in your stomach, an unfamiliar feeling. You think about pushing him off, but your body ached for him, not wanting to stop this. Without any more hesitation, you look back up at him, shaking your head slowly, an invitation for him to continue.

Wanna see what you can take.

At your permission, Matty crashes his lips against yours, moving the hand that was on your cheek down to your neck. You let out a small gasp at the contact. He takes this as a chance to deepen the kiss, taking up every part of your mouth with his. The grip on your thigh moves up, closer to your heat. His fingers play with the hem of your pajama shorts, pushing them up slightly, almost exposing your underwear. You let out a pathetic whine as he breaks the heated kiss.

"God, Ive wanted to do this for years, you have no idea." Matty grumbles out as he pulls off your hoodie swiftly, pushing you down to lay back against the arm rest. He hovers over you, pulling down your satin shorts slowly, eyes never breaking contact from yours. "You're so fucking pretty baby, my perfect girl." You blush at his words, letting out a soft groan. Feeling like a prey under the gaze of a predator, you fix your eyes on the ceiling, unable to look at him.

You should really run away.

Matty notices this, and reaches his hand out to grab at your chin, directing your attention back to him. "Don't you dare look away, keep your eyes on me, yeah?"

Your eyes meet his again, his pupils blown with lust. He looks at you with a stern look, asserting his dominance as you nod silently. Matty smirks at your obedience, and starts rubbing small circles on your heat. You moan louder this time at the friction, pushing your hips up against his hand.

Other people wouldn't stay. Other people don't obey.

"That's right, love. Does that feel good? Do you want more?" Matty's eyes stay trained on yours. You feel small under his gaze, yet enjoying how he towers over you, his chain dangling in front of your face. You clench your legs together as his fingers rub at your clit, growing wetter by the second.

Your stomach starts to tighten, already close to an orgasm. "Im close, please, I can't." You cry out, throwing your head back on the arm rest.

His fingers suddenly disappear from your clit, and you cry out from the sudden loss.

"Do I need to repeat myself? I told you to keep your eyes on me, yeah? Be a good girl for me, darling." Matty reiterates, moving his other hand up to your neck again, applying pressure but not fully cutting off your airway.

You nod feverishly, not wanting him to stop again. Your eyes pleading for forgiveness. Matty chuckles and reaches his hand back down, his fingers barely grazing your clit again as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, exposing your wet cunt to him. The cold air against your core makes you shudder, the contrast in temperature sending a wave of pleasure up your spine.

Matty watches your reaction intently, reveling in how it doesn't take much to get you worked up. He releases your neck from his grip and places his lips against your neck, searching for your pulse point. You expose your neck more, giving him silent permission to continue.

I wanna do bad things to you.

"God, you really are a desperate thing, aren't you love? Tell me where you want me." He murmurs into your neck, planting kisses and bites around the sensitive area as he rubs tight circles on your clit. You flush at his words, letting out a whimper.

"Anywhere, please." You beg him, jerking your hips up to create more friction again. He lets out a soft chuckle into your neck at this.

"Your wish is my command, darling." Matty smirks and pulls away from your neck. He begins to move down your body, trailing kisses until he reaches your cunt. He breathes out onto your heat, then swiftly attaches his lips to your clit, sucking hard. You cry out from the new feeling, body squirming with pleasure.

Matty hums against your pussy at the cry you let out, creating a vibrating sensation. Your hands grip at his head, your fingers curling into his hair and pulling. You keep your eyes on him as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly, mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

"So fucking perfect for me." He mumbles, wrapping his hands around your legs, keeping them wide open for him. His tongue teases your tight hole, licking thick stripes wherever he could reach before his attention is drawn back to your clit, sucking persistently.

Your back arches off the couch, fingers gripping at his hair and pulling hard. "Matty, fuck, Im gonna come, fuck-" You stumble over your words, feeling your stomach tighten at his continued abuse against your cunt.

Matty pulls away momentarily, "Go ahead, darling. Be a good girl for me and come on my tongue, yeah?" He picks up speed, mercilessly sucking and circling his tongue on your pussy.

I wanna make you yell.

Your legs clench together, affectively trapping him against your core as your body tenses up. You throw your head back, letting out an obscenely loud moan as you feel your orgasm wash over your body. Your hips buck up into his mouth, feeling even more wetness pool where his mouth is. Matty moans against your cunt, sending aftershocks from your orgasm straight to your heat again.

"You taste fucking unbelievable, love." He grunts out, making sure to swallow every last bit of your orgasm. Your body twitches from overstimulation as he finishes cleaning you up with his tongue.

Matty pulls away, his lips soaked with your fluids. You look at him with heavy eyes, feeling almost drunk from your orgasm. He looks almost as wrecked as you. You are about to sit up and reach for him when you glance down and realize he's still hard, but he stops you.

"I know you're tired. You don't have to finish me off. Another time, okay?" Matty speaks lowly, keeping eye contact with you as he stands up and grabs a blanket from the basket near the coffee table. He sits on the edge of the couch next to you, wrapping you up in the fluffy blanket. You blink up at him, exhaustion washing over your body.

Matty stares down at you, giving you a look filled with an emotion you couldn't quite pinpoint. You sigh out, feeling his body press up next to yours. He pulls you into his arms tightly, brushing his fingers through your hair.

"Thank you for that." You admit your appreciation shyly, a content smile on your lips.

Matty grins down at you, "Of course, love. Anything for you." He runs his fingers through your hair, brushing the strands out of your face. Your eyes flutter shut, unable to fight the sleep coming over you this time.

[celli-ohs]

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal

pairing: socially awkward!park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: high school au; crack, comedy, fluff

synopsis: What happens when you get seated right next to the most handsome boy in your entire grade? Well you thought it'd be a great excuse to get to know him better, but the guy won't even talk to you! After a mishap in the science lab, you come to find out that Park Sunghoon, the cold-hearted prince of EN High, isn't in fact rude, he's just afraid of women.

before you read: character profiles

warnings: language, physical violence in the forms of hitting and stomping, mentions of pushing someone in front of a bus, sunoo getting revenge on riki

word count: 3.7k

taglist (open): @ancnymcnzjy , @frankenstein852 @tasnemluvs

note: part 1 of my and scene! series, loosely based off en-drama.

Log 5: Monday - May 13th, 2024

“So why do you need to beat up Riki again?”

Sunoo rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time that morning. “Because I have to scare that damn Belift guy off.” 

Jaeyun blinks. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you need to beat up Riki.” 

“We’re not actually beating me up. He’s just gonna pretend.” Riki adds. “We’re gonna fake a fight and make it seem like Sunoo’s the leader of a gang. That way the recruiter gets scared and Sunoo never has to see him again.” 

“And who thought of this?” Sunghoon asks, skeptical.

“Me, duh!” Riki stands tall and proud as he says this, only to be slapped up the head.

“Ow! What the fuck was that for?” Riki growls. “For creating the most dumbfuck shit plan I’ve ever heard.” Jongseong sighs.

“You’ll be regretting that when my plan works and I save Sunoo.” Riki grumbles to himself. “Okay stop,” Sunoo swats Jongseong away. “Riki and I agreed to do this, we’ll be fine, Jongseong.”

“Anything he’s involved in already has me worried.” Jongseong throws a finger towards the youngest. “Hey! It’ll be fine, Riki A and C are gonna be there too, they’re gonna be Sunoo’s lackeys.” Riki rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, just don’t get caught up in anything, Jungwon and I have to go to election rehearsal after school today and I’m not gonna leave if something goes wrong.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me, I still have to write my speech.” Jungwon covers his face in shame.

Though he planned to drop out, Jungwon and everyone else soon found out that dropping out wasn’t allowed once you were nominated, as there was only one other person running for president, some second year named Byun Euijoo.

So now Jungwon was forced to actually run, though he showed absolutely no enthusiasm.

“You don’t even care though, don’t you want to lose?” Heeseung brings up. Jungwon nods as they all walk down the street. “Yeah but I also don’t want to go up there and make a fool of myself.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not actually gonna fight, Konon said we could borrow her makeup, we’ll make some fake bruises.” Riki assures the other boy.

“Did she actually say that or did you just steal her makeup without her knowing?” Sunghoon questions, though he already knew the answer. 

“Does it matter? What matters is we save our friend. Which none of you have done anything by the way, only me!” Riki marches forward, leading the seven inside the school building this morning.

Sunghoon slows down and grabs Sunoo’s arm. “Why are you going along with this? You could just call the police, you know?” 

“Oh I already did, I have a restraining order on that guy,” Sunoo agrees as they walk to Sunoo’s classroom. “But this is my revenge on Riki for his stupid April Fool’s prank. I told him to help me or I’ll tell Konon about the time he slept over at my house and he cried that night because he couldn’t sleep without her or Misora.” He grumbles. 

(Sunoo found out that Riki’s prank for him was making him audition for the newest “act” the theater club was performing: Spongebob Squarepants The Musical. Poor Sunoo had shown up with bright yellow face paint and suspenders while everyone else was auditioning for Les Miserables.)

Sunghoon shrugs it off and walks down the hall to his classroom. 

“Hi Sunghoon!” A random girl smiles and waves as he passes her. “Hi,” He gives her a small smile back, and pretends to not notice her squeal of excitement to her friends. 

Just last week it’d come to his attention that Sunghoon was in fact not hated in his entire school, but actually quite popular.

Well in reality, his friends told him.

“You were so scared of girls you never noticed more than half of them are in love with you,” Jaeyun laughs. “Yeah, and now that you can talk to them without running away, we thought we’d tell you.” Sunoo adds.

While he was initially a bit upset his friends would withhold such information from him, Sunghoon’s anger soon morphed into hope: does that mean you are also in love with him? That thought brought butterflies to his stomach immediately.

 Ever since Sunghoon’s come to terms with his newfound crush on you, 

As he enters his classroom, he’s ambushed by a few female classmates.

“Good morning Sunghoon! I got these cookies for you-” 

“Yeah well I bought you some juice, and I wrote you this letter-”

“Move aside! Hi Sunghoon! I hope you like this muffin, I made it myself-”

“Ahem.” 

Someone behind him clears their throat, and he spins around. 

“Excuse me, you’re blocking the door,” You glare right past him and towards the other girls. Everyone moves out of the way, and you walk towards your cubby. “Excuse me,” Sunghoon mumbles, pushing the girls to the side to follow you.

“Hey,” He beams at you, opening his cubby to your left. Before you can greet him, a pile of letters and presents fall out. “Oh shit,” He scrambles to pick them up, stuffing them back in. 

You watch him as he struggles, giggling a little. “Need help?” You ask as you close the door to your cubby. “Nope! No, I’m good!” He tries to play it cool, finally shutting his door and leaning against it awkwardly. 

“Okay,” You eye him up and down before smirking and leaving for your desk. Sunghoon follows you like a puppy.

As you get your supplies out for the day, Sunghoon sits and watches patiently. Recently, he’s noticed something was off with you. You seem to be keeping your distance more often than not, and it’s more noticeable when around others. 

At first Sunghoon thought it was just his imagination, but then he started to notice the weird looks your friends would give you whenever he joined in the conversation.

The only time he felt like you were yourself was whenever you two had a calligraphy club together, away from the crowds. Your eyes seemed to sparkle whenever you two were alone. It didn’t help that he now had a massive crush on you, seeing you shine like that.

“So!” Sunghoon clears his throat. “How was your weekend? Do anything fun?” He tries his best to create small talk, hoping to remove the awkward air.

“Oh yeah,” You nod, glancing at him. “My family and I visited my grandmother, I’ll have to show you the-”

“Hey Sunghoon!” Another classmate calls from across the room. Sunghoon can’t remember her name, but she grins at him like they’ve known each other their whole lives. “Did you have a good weekend? I was wondering if you were free after school today, we could go to a cafe? Jaeyun and Yuri are coming too.”

The girl gestures to his best friend and another girl conversing by their desks. With the way this girl smiles, Sunghoon has a feeling her intentions aren’t just to go eat pastries after class. And using his best friend as bait wasn’t going to bite either. 

“I have club today, maybe another time.” He tries to apologize. The girl pouts. “What about after? I can wait-”

“No thanks, like I said, maybe later.” He waves her off, turning back to you, feeling embarrassed. Just weeks ago he would have cried if he knew a girl was even staring at him, now he was busy rejecting the hoards who got in his way. 

You on the other hand, don’t look happy at all, facing the book on your desk and shoulders tense. “Sorry, what were you saying-”

The bell suddenly rings, and everyone scrambles back into their seats as Ms. Hong enters the class to start homeroom.

“It’s nothing.” You mumble, sighing as your eyes dull. You don’t even look in Sunghoon’s direction for the rest of the day.

Sunghoon frowns as he stirs his spoon around his soup, moping.

“If you’re not gonna eat your rice, can I have it?” Heeseung asks with a full mouth as he points to the pile of untouched rice on Sunghoon’s tray. Silently, he slides it over to the senior, who looks delighted to have a second portion.

“Where is everyone?” Sunghoon finally asks, realizing 15 minutes had passed and the only people sitting at their table were him and Heeseung. 

“Huh? Oh, Jongseong is helping Jungwon write his speech in the library I think. Riki and Sunoo said they’re practicing their fake fight in the small gym with the other Rikis. I don’t know where Jaeyun is though, I thought you’d know.” Heeseung fills him in.

Sunghoon’s frown deepens. Heeseung suddenly clears his throat, taking big gulps of his milk.

“I don’t mean to pry, but are you okay? You’ve been kind of killing my appetite with your weird mood.” Heeseung asks. Sunghoon eyes the empty tray of food, as well as Sunghoon’s previously full tray dwindling down to zero with every bite the senior took. Sunghoon was pretty sure Heeseung was eating just fine.

But when he looked up at Heeseung, for some odd reason his mouth began to speak faster than his brain could comprehend.

“I think the girl I like hates me.” Sunghoon confesses.

Heeseung blinks, shocked. “Why do you think that? I thought Y/n was in love with you.” 

The sudden mention of your name has Sunghoon’s stomach doing a flip. He sits up straight, looking around to see if anyone had overheard them. “D-Don’t say that out loud!” He shushes the other boy.

“What? That you like Y/n-” One glare and Heeseung shuts up. 

Sunghoon sighs, rubbing his face, now stressed out. “Sorry.” Heeseung mutters. “But can I say something? I know we aren’t close or anything,” 

He peaks through his fingers, making eye contact with Heeseung’s big brown eyes. He can feel the sincerity through his gaze.

So he sits up again and nods, wondering what advice someone like Heeseung could ever give him.

Heeseung fiddles with his spoon, looking down at his tray. “I think you should try being more confident. You’ve got everything I’ve always wanted: you’re good-looking, humble, well-liked by everyone.”

“And I know you’ve been working hard on your social anxiety, but maybe you can show your newfound confidence by confessing your feelings to her. Why let yourself get in the way? You’ve gotten so far now, why not go a little further?”

Heeseung’s words click inside Sunghoon’s head. It’s true, he’s at an all-time high for the first time in his 17 years of living. He doesn’t know if he would have ever been able to conquer his fears without you. 

Sunghoon has always sabotaged himself, continuously mentally feeding himself the worst case scenarios, but you showed him how to break those walls down. You’ve been happier than himself at his growth.

Even if it killed him, he needed to tell you.

Sunghoon suddenly stands up from his seat, scrambling out the table. 

“Where are you going?!” Heeseung asks worriedly. But instead of answering, Sunghoon smiles fondly at his friend, running off. “Thanks Heeseung!” He shouts.

“Does this mean I can have the rest of your food?!” Heeseung calls out after him, only to get no answer.

And that’s how Sunghoon found himself running through the entire school, searching for you. 

He’s gasping for air as he checks the time on his watch. He had 30 more minutes before lunch ended, yet you were nowhere to be found.

While he knew EN-High was a giant school, with many twists and turns in the hallways, he also knew you wouldn’t just drop face off the earth in the middle of the school day.

Winded, he lands in an empty hall, leaning against the wall as he catches his breath. Looking around, Sunghoon realizes he’s right by the old library, where you two held calligraphy club. There’s no way, right? He thinks as he quietly enters.

The tables are empty, the room feels stiff, as if no one was there but him. It reminds him of the day he discovered it, where you two had your first real conversation. 

Silently Sunghoon walks around, his hopes of finding you falling. Though he knew he could just wait until later today, he felt as if he couldn’t keep this information to himself, and he swore to himself that he’d find the courage to confess-

Sunghoon stops in his step, head whipping around. He swore he heard a whisper. He stills, hoping to hear it again.

"...swhswhshwshwshwsh..."

There it was again! A whisper! Slowly Sunghoon makes his way down the aisles of books, getting closer and closer to the noise.

“-just say something. What’s the worst that can happen?” Sunghoon recognizes that voice, he peeks through a bookcase, and suddenly he connects the dots.

“I can’t, I couldn’t bear risking our friendship,” You sigh, looking distraught as you talk to your best friend Kai. The both of you are speaking low. Sunghoon tiptoes closer.

“Well sooner or later you’re going to have to say something,” Kai crosses his arms. You shake your head. “How can I?” You ask.

“Well you like him right? Don’t you think he deserves to know?”

Hold up. You like someone?! 

The pep talk Heeseung had given Sunghoon earlier begins to turn into slush as he starts to worry. Who could you possibly have a crush on? He hoped it was him of course, but he could never be so sure-

“Yeah,” You hum. “But you know Taehyun’s-”

“Ignore it, just tell him.” Kai opposes, just as Sunghoon’s heart shatters into a million pieces. He was no longer listening to the conversation.

Taehyun was one of your best friends. Someone you’ve known for years and have done everything with. To top it off, you’ve been helping him more frequently for the elections, spending more time together. It made sense why you’d like him. 

But no matter the truth, hearing it didn’t hurt any less, and Sunghoon had to refrain from bolting out of there and causing a scene. 

Except he does. Because of his distress, he doesn’t realize he’s bumped into the bookshelf behind him, causing one of the novels to fall and land loudly on the ground.

The slam of the book hitting the carpet is loud inside the silent library. You and Kai have stopped your conversation, and Sunghoon is regretting that he hadn’t run out when he first thought of it.

Swiftly, you round the aisle, finding Sunghoon looking at you with wide eyes full of terror. “Sunghoon?!” You gasp, looking just as horrified.

Out of habit, he spins around, facing away from you as he mentally prays you don’t see him if he stands still.

“Sunghoon, I can still see you, you know?” You call him out. Fearing for his life, as well as trying to tame a broken heart, he rigidly turns back around to you. “Hi. Fancy seeing you here,” he waves like a robot.

Kai tries to hide a giggle, covering his mouth. “I’m gonna go, see you later Y/n,” He nudges past you, giving you a playful wink as he leaves. 

You sigh, hiding your face as you mutter something to yourself.

“So I’m guessing you heard.” You finally say. Sunghoon feels his stomach drop as he nods.

Your cheeks are bright red, you can’t look at him. “I’m sor-

“No.” Sunghoon interrupts. You’re shocked, and so is he, but no matter what happens, he was going to tell you his feelings, even if you rejected him. 

“I mean- Uh, Can I say something first?” He stumbles over his words, realizing he probably came off too strong. You nod slowly, brows furrowed. 

Taking a deep breath, Sunghoon bites the inside of his gum. 

“Y/n, do you remember the first time we had calligraphy club together? When we were walking home that day, that was the first time I’ve ever really looked at a girl and not felt scared. You smiled at me.” Sunghoon begins sloppily. 

“I’m not really good at speaking, I’m better at writing, but I want to tell you how much you've helped me these past few months. I don’t even think I’d be able to talk to you right now if you hadn’t encouraged me. I’m really grateful for you.”

“I don’t know when I started to feel this way, but I do know one thing, I like you. More than a friend.” Sunghoon gulps as you gasp quietly. 

“I like you so much, if it meant I’d have to sacrifice everything I’ve worked hard for to disappear just to be with you, I would do it. If I have to embarrass myself in front of our class again, I will. Heck, I’ll even fight Taehyun- I mean I know you have a crush on him and that he’s the captain of the boxing club, but I just like you so much I don’t mind getting my ass kicked for you.” He begins to ramble, not noticing your confusion.

“Wait,” You hold a hand up to stop him. “Say that last part again.” 

Sunghoon freezes. “I like you so much I would push Jongseong in front of a bus if you told me to?”

“What? No! Before that!” You look at him bewildered.

“I’ll fight Taehyun for you because you like him?” He repeats and you suddenly slap your hand on your forehead. 

“Sunghoon,” You grumble, approaching him. Even when you’re glaring up at him, you make his heart race. “I don’t like Taehyun.”

Sunghoon blanks.

“Huh?”

You sigh, again, and grimace. “I don’t like Taehyun. I like you, idiot.”

Now he’s really confused. 

“But you and Kai were-” 

“You obviously heard wrong. I thought you heard the whole thing, which is why I was freaking out because Kai was trying to convince me to confess to you.” You poke his chest with your index finger, looking away shyly. 

“Him and Taehyun have been pushing me to say something for weeks.” You admit. “I’ve just been stalling since elections are so close.” 

Wait. So you like him back?!!

Sunghoon is malfunctioning as you wait for him to speak. 

“Hold on!” He suddenly yells, grabbing you by the shoulders. “Then why have you been ignoring me these past two weeks? You barely even talk to me!” He points out.

You blush again, scratching your head. “I-I wasn’t doing it on purpose,” You mumble. 

“It’s just every time we try to talk, someone interrupts. It’s been getting annoying. Especially the other girls-” You suddenly stop talking, glaring at yourself. Sunghoon cracks.

“You’re jealous? That I’m getting attention from other girls? Oh this is gold, I never took you as the possessive type.” He chuckles. “No I’m not! Stop laughing!” You argue, though your red face proves you wrong. 

As you try to make up some other reason why, Sunghoon can only smile. This is the you he likes, one so full of life and passion. You stop talking, words trailing off as you realize Sunghoon’s been watching you with a lovesick smile.

“D-Don’t look at me like that.” You turn away, but Sunghoon stops you, engulfing you in a hug. He feels you reciprocate, squeezing him tightly.

He can feel how fast your heart is beating. He wonders if you can feel his.

“Two months ago you would have rather eaten a bucket of bugs instead of hug me.” You mutter into his chest after a long silence.

“Way to ruin the mood.” He groans, cringing at his own past self (and how right you are). You two laugh, and as the bell rings, you both walk back to class together. 

“Does this mean we’re dating now?” Sunghoon asks you, ears pink. “I would hope so.” You joke. 

“Good, I’m telling everyone you’re my girlfriend now.” He grins to himself. “Well, as your girlfriend, I’d like it if you held my hand.” You tease.

“And as your boyfriend, I’d like for you to give me a minute, my palms are sweaty,” He wipes his hands on his pants as you laugh, before taking your hand in his.

The two of you don’t say anything more as you walk down the hall towards your shared classroom. Hands swaying together, Sunghoon only has one thing on his mind.

You two were a perfect match.

Bonus:

“Can you believe I’m the first person in my friend group to get a girlfriend?” 

You look at your boyfriend, astonished. “Seriously? I swear I thought at least Jongseong had a girlfriend,” Sunghoon shrugs as you two walk home together.

It’s only been a few hours since he’s become your boyfriend but he couldn’t be happier. He loved holding your hand, it fits so snugly into his own. Knowing that you were all his, and he was all yours now was the best feeling in the world. 

He hadn’t shut up about it since, and now the entire student body of EN-High knew you two were a couple. 

(Sunghoon marched you two up to the front of the class and announced to everyone you were dating. He claims he did this so that the other girls wouldn’t approach him so much anymore so you wouldn’t have to be jealous, but a part of you suspects he just wanted to brag. Either way, you were embarrassed.)

“Hey,” You suddenly slow down. “What’s up?” He asks, looking at you concerned. You’re not paying attention to him, looking forward. “Uh, isn’t that Riki and Sunoo?” You point.

Sunghoon follows your view, and sure enough he finds himself with a front view of Sunoo beating the shit out of Riki. 

“Y-You-Agk! You said you were going to pretend!” Riki whines as he lays on the street, shielding himself as Sunoo stomps on him.

“Gotta make it look believable!” Sunoo grins. Behind him, Riki C is recording while Riki A laughs.

“Should we stop them?” You ask, looking concerned. Sunghoon contemplates the idea, but in the end shakes his head. 

“Nah, they’ve got it covered.” He steers you away, assuring you his friend will make it out healthy and alive. 

“Come on, don't get distracted, we still have our first date to go on.”

Log 4: Monday - April 1st, 2024

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal masterlist | and scene! series masterlist | kpop masterlist

author's note: ahhhhh!!! finally finished with sunghoon's story! what did y'all think? i loved writing for him lol he's such a silly goofy guy stuck in a hot body. this entire plot was created based off that one scene in en-drama where he's like "girls never talk to me since I was young" lmaoo anyways thank you so much for reading and supporting! look forward to mr park jongseong's series next!!

[lorddeathofmurdermountain]

I totally agree but since I'm familiar with the inverse situation, let me play devil's advocate for a moment.

Someone complains they feel uncomfortable reading yaoi. That sucks. I wish they didn't feel uncomfortable. Maybe they should stop reading it?

The result of me suggesting that is either they stop reading it and everything is fine, or they begin to try and convince me the author should stop writing it and delete / recall what they've written. I'm only gonna get mad at one of these and you can probably guess it isn't the part where they listen to my advice.

Now, again, I understand. Really, I do. There was this really abhorrent rape fic involving Anya from Spy x Family and some rabid dogs. Real nasty. It was also on FF.net so I had a good reason to report it; it's against terms. In this case, my moral obligation coincided with the system set in place. Had it been posted elsewhere, this probably wouldn't have worked. But even then, no matter how much I disliked it, there are legitimate reasons as to why it SHOULDN'T be taken down.

Really, the only thing you can do is regulate the content you see. Anything else, like censoring others or starting witch hunts is kinda... Well, bad. Freedom of expression and all that. Not like it's exactly hurting anyone, and it sets a precedent for censorship of more tasteful media (depending on your definition).

All this to say; I understand being upset, but there's only really so many things you can or should do. You don't have to read it, you're free to report it if it's against terms and while I understand that it'll never really leave your memory if it was bad enough, attacking someone for the way they express themselves in regards to characters that removed from reality really isn't the answer.

The best you can do is learn to live with the knowledge of what you just read. Maybe seek help if you need it. Confide in your friends or loved ones, talk to someone about it, get it off your chest. And then leave it behind you, in the dirt, where it belongs. It doesn't deserve to keep hurting you.

Look, they're probably mentioning that this upsets them so openly for a specific reason and rarely is it to seek comfort - it's more of a call to witch hunt and that isn't really okay. You don't really reveal something that hurts you so deeply for no reason - and the reason tends to be easy to digest. I can tell if it's to help others or to try and get it behind you or if it's to spark outrage bc you're so u-u-u-uncomfortable and it's just evil and disgusting that they made you feel like that, so they should pay for it and you expect everyone to do your bidding.

Look read and write whatever you want.

But the moment you start getting mad and preachy at gay/bi men saying that yaoi makes them uncomfortable then I hate you with an undying passion.

That and defending shit with R*pe like it's art or thriller, or anything other than fucked up porn soley because it's with two dudes. I stg I wanted to kill everyone when K*lling Stalking happened.

[billiesbossanovas]

Letters

High school au

Warnings: angst angst angst, death, su!cide mentions, self harm mentions, relapse mentions. Please read at your discretion.

If anyone reading this, or reading any of my work, or just so happens to even read just the warnings, know that I’m always open for you to talk to me if needed, please take care of yourself and know that you are loved and cared for. <3

This fic is kinda me projecting 🙂‍↕️ (extreme exaggeration for some parts)

Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader

Not proof read

—

You, y/n l/n, are part of the popular group in school, just from being long time friends with Tony stark, he was in the football team, mvp every game, best player in the whole school, you grew up with him, went through all levels or school with him, though you are the very contrast of him, nerdy, you would rather be reading than running around getting all sweaty and dirty.

One of his friends had caught your eye almost immediately, Natasha romanoff, a charming, tall redhead, at first she had struck you as kind, she smiled at you in the halls, even stood and had a conversation with you one time, that soon fizzled out, you had no idea why, she just started getting rude, giving you off handed comments or just flat out ignoring you. But you shrugged it off, it wasn’t anything major, just enough to make you slightly uncomfortable around her.

You sat on the bleachers watching as Tony was practicing with his team, him being your ride home meant waiting.. and waiting.. and waiting. It was annoying but also got you out of the house for longer. It was hard at home, your dad being ill and your mom being.. well your mom, so being out of the house was the best thing for your mental state, Tony knew that, he was the only person who knew how much you’d been struggling, how much you hated being at home. Hated being anywhere. So he offered to take you to school and drop you back at home after practices. He didn’t know everything, not about your plans or how you’d relapsed a week ago and feel back into your self harm as a coping mechanism, but some things are best kept secret, even from your best friend, especially from your best friend.

Natasha came and sat next to you, knocking you back into reality and huffed, she rested her chin in her hands and looked over at you. “What are you writing?” She snorts and laughs as you scramble to close your journal. “You’re such a dork” she grumbles before leaning back and watching as the team practices. You shove your journal into your bag and move it onto your other side, Natasha watches it and scoffs “I’m not gunna look in your precious journal” it’s said in a mocking way, but you know she means it, she’s not invasive, never has been.

Tony runs over to the two of you and gives a confused look before tapping you in the leg with his foot. “Ready to go?” He’s out of breathe and extremely sweaty to the point his hair was sticking to his forehead.

“Yeah- yeah let’s go. See you later Natasha” you stand up and put your bag on your back, she gives you half a wave and waits for Clint, he runs over and sits next to her as you and Tony walk away.

“So.. you doing okay?” He asks as the two of you get to the parking lot, you hum in response as he slings his football boots and jersey into the back seat of his car. “I’m here for you, you know that right?” He looks at you over the car, you give him a tight smile and sigh.

“I know.” Is all you give him, he stares at you, its intimidating like he’s trying to get information out of you with a stare, he lets it go after a second and climbs into the drivers seat. “Hey do you know my Natasha suddenly hates me?” You get into the car and out your seatbelt on, Tony takes a second to answer and looks over at you.

He opens his mouth and goes to speak a few times before smirking. “Tasha probably just likes you” he starts driving, he’s going the long way home, he always does. You just nod and think about it, if she liked you why would she be mean, acting as if it was a chore to speak to you without insulting you.

“Nah. I don’t think so.” You respond, the rest of the ride is quiet, the only sound being the hum of the radio, Tony focused on the road and you just watching as the houses and trees blur into one big mess, your demeanour shifts as soon as the corner turns onto your street.

Tony notices the shift in your energy, and the miserable look on your face. “You could sleep over at my house, my dad wouldn’t care.” He offers, trying to ease you a little, the offers nice, it would be great to even have a single night away from home, but you couldn’t, it wouldn’t be fair. You need to do chores, make sure everything is okay in the house.

“I-I’m okay, I’ll be fine.” He pats you on the shoulder, and watches as you drag yourself into the house. The moment you step in, you hear your parents arguing, you don’t what it’s over, but they’re loud and now only really shouting insults at each other, it had been going for a while now by the sounds of it, all you can do is sigh before walking up to your bedroom.

Dinner is silent, your dad eating what he can manage from his plate and your mom glaring at you while you eat. You look up at her, she scoffs and takes her plate to the kitchen sink. “You know you could help out once in a while.” She starts, aiming the statement at you. “I’m sick of doing everything around here. You could at least wash the dishes- or do the laundry.” You Finnish your food and take the plate over to where she is. “But even then you’d probably fuck it up- why don’t you just go study- or talk about me to your friends. Seeing as that’s all you do.” She takes your plate from you and starts washing it, you turn around to walk away from her. “I never get any help in this house.” She gritts out through her teeth, making a pang of guilt filter through your body as you make your way upstairs to your bedroom.

A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you close your bedroom door, you pick up your bag and take out your journal, sitting at your desk to finish writing your letters, the one addressed to you parents being the first one you finished, you had one for everyone you were close with, just for if anything where to happen to you, the one you struggled with the most was Tony’s. What would you even write to him, all you could write was ‘I’m sorry’ you’d work on it more later. Flicking forward a few pages you write a name down to start a new letter.

Natasha, you also didn’t know what to say to her, how would you write a letter for someone to read after your death, when they don’t like you, and you’re basically in love with them? You sighed and layed your head in your desk onto of your journal trying to think, you closed your eyes, maybe it would help. In the end you fell asleep ontop of your notebook, being woke up to your mother pounding on your bedroom door announcing Tony was here, and you needed to get of your ass and go to school.

Over the course of the next week, everything had gotten worse, Natasha constantly ribbing on you for writing all the time, To y started slowly pulling away as things with pepper started to get more serious, you were left to deal with your thoughts, and your parents on your own. Your dad had gotten worse, he’d been admitted into hospital which made home life basically hell as your mother raved and screamed about how useless you were, how you could do so much more with your life’s yet you spent it locked away in your room. While you agreed on the latter, you could be doing normal teenage things, going to parties, getting into a relationship. But you spent your time locking yourself in your bedroom, crying yourself to sleep after making yourself bleed, because that’s what you deserved, to feel pain. You were a shitty friend and child, so why not make yourself suffer even more.

The day your mother burst into your room and shouted “you’re so fucking useless, you can’t even wash the dishes correctly. If you’re weren’t here my life would be so much easier.” There was more to the rant, but that’s the part that stuck to you, that was your breaking point. When night time rolled around you finished the letters off, and packed them insulate into envelopes with people’s names on them. They’re out into your bag, and you leave the house at four in the morning, leaving the letter for your parents on your desk ready for whenever they decide they want to speak to you.

It’s cold out, the only thing keeping you even remotely warm being a thin zip up jacket, the walk to Tony’s house is weirdly relaxing, crickets chirping, wind rustling through the leaves, making you wonder if you actually wanted to leave this all behind, before you knew it you were at Tony’s door posting the letter. ‘This is the right decision’ was all you could tell yourself, justifying your plan.

Now it was Natasha’s place, you walk up to her house, to your suprise she’s sat on the door step with a cigarette in her hand as she takes a drag. “Oh I didn’t know you smoked.” You mutter out as you stand at the edge of her porch.

Natasha laughed and blew out smoke, she looked at you confused then patted the spot next to her, you gladly took it and sat down. “I didn’t know dorks snuck out at night” she smirks at you and flicks her cigarette out onto the grass. “What are you doing here anyway?” She asks with a sigh leaning back and looking off at the still dark, early morning sky, it’s clear, the stars are out it’s beautiful.

“The night is so calm..” you mumble softly as you look at her, “beautiful..” you don’t know if it’s about Natasha or the stars, she looks over at you. “Right.. here” you hand the letter over to her. “Just don’t open it until I’m gone.”

Natasha watches as you walk away from her, she looks at the letter, her name written in your unkempt hand writing. She opened the envelope with care and unfolds the lined paper.

‘Natasha,

Where do I start? Well for one I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong to make making you pissed off at me. Quite honestly I took a liking to you i really like you, a lot. And maybe in another universe we could have happened, I would’ve been easier for you to love, for anyone to love for that matter.

I love you, I’m sorry. ‘

As she read the letter, you were already climbing over the edge of a bridge, your shoes off sitting next to your bag. You stood there for a while, watching the water, maybe someone would see you and pull you down. Maybe deep down you didn’t actually want this. No, you knew this is what had to happen, what would make everything right, make everything okay.

Your jacket blows in the wind, the sun just rising over the water, giving you a sense of peace, clarity even, the wind blows in your hair, a rush coldness shivers its way down your body, for a moment you stop and think, are you just being dramatic? What if this makes everything worse?

There’s running the distance, Natasha comes sprinting towards you. “What are you doing!?” She shouts as she gets closer, she stops behind you, you don’t turn around, but you don’t step off the ledge either. “Come back on this side- you don’t have to do this” she whispers watching incase you make a move.

“I don’t have to do anything.” You mutter in response. “I don’t have to stay or go. But this is my choice to make, and I’ve already made it..” you look back for a second, Natasha looks frantic, her eyes wide, her breathing heavy and fast paced, she takes a step forward.

Natasha spends thirty minutes trying to get you to come down, talk you out of it, anything. You always thought it would Tony in this situation, maybe in the back of your head, you decide this time because you knew he’d be asleep, wouldn’t get a chance to read your letter before you’d get to the bridge, you listen quietly as she pleads for you to come down.

You take your jacket off and hand it to her, she looks at you confused. “A-are you coming down?” She asks softly, she takes your jacket and holds onto it.

“Put it on” you mumble, now looking at the risen sun, the way the it’s making the sky purple and pink, it’s gorgeous, reminding of Natasha. She doesn’t bother pulling the zipper down. “I love you” you sigh out as you hear her fumble with the jacket, when it’s over her face, that’s when you take the step, Natasha’s scream is over run by the rush of the wind in your ears, your arms extend, for a second, it feels like your flying, like your dad is holding you up in the air when you were two, a smile makes its way across your face, it’s only lasts a second, nothing more or less.

Then you hit the water, you close your eyes, there’s no pain, no cold washing over you, no warmth, no tears, and for a moment, you’re happy, really happy, truly at peace.

And there was nobody to take it away.

[cloudyskydreams]

Hello sorry to bother again I saw you doing yandere asks I wanted to ask how would the boys react if someone tried to still their s/o away from them hope you had a Christmas and have a happy new year

Hello dear let me just say you're never a bother! Love seeing returning askers even better when we're mutuals I get so excited every time I see a notif from one lol!!

There's so many ways to take this so I'm taking it as someone flirting with Darling on this one! The other ways I was considering was someone trying to "save" darling from yandere or another yandere possibly one of the other boys trying to kidnap mc from og yandere. I'll probably do the other ones at some point cause they sound interesting.

Also this bad boy deleted itself THREE times, had me ripping my hair out on the verge of tears. I kind of got carried away on underfells part and only decided to do 5/8 characters I write for which are Sans, Papyrus, Red, Edge, and Axe (the post was too long so I'm posting Axe separately) If you wanted to see one of the other three just let me know and I'll do my best to write them too!

ALSO ALSO IMPORTANT TRIGGER WARNINGS PEOPLE DONT READ IF THESE TOPICS WILL MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE TW: Somewhat Graphic depictions of death and dying, Intense blunt force damage to head, Blood

Alright I'm done yapping y'alls eyes cross back to your regularly scheduled program! Hope you guys enjoy!!

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Undertale:

Sans:

Oh hoh this is interesting. He might not do anything at first just because he wants to see how this plays through. If you're uncomfortable he'll step in and "politely" tell the dude to fuck off. It doesn't really matter however it goes the person's fucked just for interacting with you with frankly disgusting intentions isn't it obvious your HIS? Really he's just trying to see if you know you're his and wants to see how you'll deal with the situation, to see if he's trained you well enough. Once you guys are walking away he excuses himself real quick and goes to "chat" with the person. Their barely breathing body is lying in a random alley way as sans teleports back to where he left you. He reassures you and tells you he just had to check on something at the lab real quick and shows you a fake text he sent himself requesting his help.

Papyrus:

He's fine at first! Politely informs the person that you two are indeed happily together and then gushes about your relationship for a bit. The entire time though something starts to creep in his emotions as the persons eyes barely leave your form. Something Papyrus does not have much experience with…. jealousy. His words fade out as he takes in the person's gaze and he quickly excuses you guys and leads you away getting uncomfortable and upset with the thought of the person even looking at you anymore. He trys to get back on track and puts on a cheerful face for his darling but he can't get that disgusting person out of his head. How dare they look at you in such a ludicrously wanting way, trying to seduce you with their eyes. Vile. He loops back around tsaying he simply wanted to check out a store back the other way and keeps an eye out for the person. Low and behold there they are and he gently leads you into a store before walking off with the excuse of looking for something in the store. Leaves and approaches the person and chews them out telling them they need to do better and such. He won't hurt them no but he lightly threatens them in a friendly way only Papyrus can pull off. He leaves satisfied when the person's scared and promises to do better in life. He joins back up with you in the store and picks out a pretty outfit for you to try on as an excuse saying he was trying to find the perfect outfit for you.

Underfell:

Red:

You and Red were out shopping holding hands as you walked through the mall when a person breaks off from their friend group to come over and compliment you trying to start conversation. Red immediately tenses and glares at the person hoping to send a message across as his grip on your hand tightens. You politely tell the person you're already taken and they glance at Red in question before scoffing. Red snarls at them and lets out a low growl, he knows he doesn't deserve you that he's nowhere near your league but how dare this other person so blatantly announce it and try to plant seeds of doubt in your mind. The person backs up at Reds growl and rolls their eyes before walking off. Red watches them leave his eyelights drilling holes into the back of the person's head as they walk away he discreetly takes a picture of them. You gently shush him and lead him away as he continues to grumble and huff. Later on in the night he sends the picture to his brother and asks him to gather info on him to which Edge begrudgingly does. Red gets the dudes address and sneakily slips out of bed pressing a kiss to your forehead and making a pitstop at his toolbox to grab a hammer before he teleports as close as he can walking the rest of the way. Luckily (or unluckily in the person's situation) they have one of those stupid giant windows that look directly into the living room. He teleports inside and silently glares around the room before heading upstairs opening each door silently to look for their bedroom. Once he finds it he stalks inside and stands over the bed just glaring at the person for a few minutes. How DARE they even look at you, someone like this isn't worthy of even your presence. He raises the hammer and doesn't hesitates as he brings it down right on their temple claw side facing down with as much force as he can manage. There's a resounding crack and a loud scream of pain as the person wakes up disoriented, afraid, and in pain. Red growls and clambers on top of the person straddling their chest and pinning their arms down with his legs as he raises the hammer and brings it down with force again….and again….. and again…. and again… and well you get the picture. By the time Red is done there's blood and brain matter spread everywhere. On the walls, soaking his clothing (he was smart enough to change into clothes he didn't mind burning), soaked into the bedsheets and dripping on the floor…. And in the center of all that chaos Red ,still ontop of the body, chuckles his eye sockets twitching and blank as he takes in the bloody scene he just caused. His chuckles turn to manic laughter as he clambers off the body and paces around the room slightly. Luckily skeletons don't leave fingerprints or hair so really all he has to worry about is the murder weapon and clothes. He laughs himself serious and sighs as he takes in the scene again what a pain in the ass even dead this fucker is causing him problems. He doesn't bother to clean up only taking a few valuables after scrounging around to try and throw the police off (like that's gonna help with how brutal the death was ) teleporting into the woods he frequents to punch trees when he gets upset and burns his clothes and the items he can burying the ones that can't be burned. Then he teleports home and takes a nice long hot shower after he's done he puts on a pair of sweatpants and a tank before sliding into bed with you. He holds you close and pets your hair gently as he takes in your scent. He feels at peace the memories of what just happened slipping away as he falls asleep holding you.

Edge:

Edge and you were at a nice restaurant when the waiter made more than polite conversation with you while he was away from the table. Like the good little trained pet you are you immediately reported it to Edge upon him returning and he raises a brow bone as he listens to what the waiter said. What an ignorant fool flirting with you after seeing you and him together on a clear date. He chuckles softly and it sends a shiver down your spine as you watch the waiter return with the check Edge asked for. He's polite and courteous and pays before taking you home. Later on in the night he does a bit of research into the waiter who's name he remembered from his name tag. It takes forever but with the name and mental image of the person still fresh in his mind he's able to track down the person's social media accounts and from there their address and more personal information. He's not going to harm the person no, that would be a waste of his precious time and has to have so much preparation put into it. Edge is hardly threatened by the person in fact he finds the whole situation rather funny. Hilarious even that the person would dare flirt with you when it was obvious you're already the property of the Great and Terrible Edge. Edge is going to dig deep really deep and figure out all the embarrassing dirty or disgusting secrets this person has and expose them all to their friends and family anonymously as well as sending hateful, spiteful, and ignorant texts to important people in the person's life by weaponizing secrets and private information. Then he's going steal money from the person's jobs bank accounts and deposit it into the person's bank account to set them up for grand theft. Over the next few days Edge seems perfectly fine albeit on his phone and laptop more often. Unbeknownst to you he's just keeping an eye on the chaos that the person's life has descended into. Friends and family turning their backs, Losing his job, Being arrested on charges of grand theft and possible felony charges for it. Edge thinks the entire thing is hilarious and of course since you've been such a good pet recently and reported it to him immediately he rewards you with pampering and affection.

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Another reason these took so long is because I've been obsessively reading Making A Monster on ao3 and AHHHHHH hard recommend. Normally I'm not the best with named readers but this one is 😙👌MWAHH Love the plot and characterization of the boys(and lets be fr I'm a sucker for any well written reverse harem undertale fic). If you guys have any recommendations for Undertale fics I'd love to hear them! I'm always looking for more to read lol

Also! Here's Axes version!!

[neo91502]

oh my god... ive been staring at this art bro and read through EVERYONE'S paragraphs. holy fuck mango oh my fod... I'm gonna go coo coo crazy positively.

for one, hoLY SHIT. OH MT FOD YOU'RE A MADHORSE MANGO!!!! I WISH I COULD SAY EVERYTHING BUT I WONT BE ABLE TO REMEMBER THEM ALL SJJDJDJ THE DETAILS ON THE ART, THE GROUPING, THE EXPRESSIONS, OH NY FOD.... ITS JJST COMPOSED SO WELL OR SOMEHTINF LIKE THAT BRO OHBMY GOODDDDD.... ITS ALWAYS SUCH A JOY TO TALK TO YOU MAN!!!! i hope you know i let out a giggle when i saw how i manahed to get you to listen to epic the musical teehee!!! but oh my mangos.... i always looked up to you, ESPECIALLY since you were some of the first people i went to go find and saw on tumblr and went "omg wait i recognize this art!!" (mainly because of pinterest 💔 grrrr give credits!!!!) and ong i literally always loved seeing your silly drawings of them all... I THINK ITS ALSO COMEDIC HOW WE BASICALLT GIVE EVERYONE FANGS JAKSNND

you're genuinely just such a joy to hang out with, even if its not for long since. you're 5 hours ahead of me HELP... BUT EVEN STILL!!! I ALSO LOVE ANY AND ALL MANGO LORE??? LIKE HELLO,.. SIRE I'D LOVE TO HAVE MORE PLEASE!!!! ALSO WHEN I ACCIDENTALLY FOUND YOUR NON-SMG4 ACCOUNT I WAS LIKE "HUH... OH MY GOD" ANS IM JUST ?!??!? I NEED MORE OF YOUR NON-SMG4 ART TOO....

oh my god ans rhe PIKMIN!!!!! when you posted the silly post about your main interests, i literally jaw dropped ans pointed at the screen, screaming in my head PIKMIN PIKMIN PIKMIN!!!!NO WAY MANGO ALSO LOVED PIKMIN!!!! i will always associate anything mangos, horses, and pikmin to you (pikmin i mean... i associate to several people but shhhh) augh. EVEN THOUGH I BARELY TEXT IN THE TSB SERVER, IM MAINLY IN VC AND IM LIKE GUHH.... I WANT TO TALK TO MORE PEOPLE BUT LIKE EMOTIONS BETTER OVER MIC!!! I was actually so nervous when i joined a vc with you for the first time HWJENDK i think thag was when i was also anxious with tomm a bit but more like friends with lore GUH.... i remember hearing your voice for the first time and i was so surprised at hearing your voice BJAJDJS i didnt expect it... i hope you know you definitelt affected my accent, i hear a difference sometimes when im in choir in the auditorium 💔💔 /silly

tomm taught me when you appear in the vc chat if we're staying up late and i think its silly with your horse images and gifa teehee... im honestlt just. GENUINELY surprised i got the chance to be in vc with you and even have silly little shenanigans here and there (like the ocs channel with the stupid silly gifs you, me, and lore were making). Honestly. I did NOT think I'd evee even be able to sit here today and think and consider the fact that I'd say we're friends 💙💙

also you can absolutely spam me with pikmin memes i love them so much teehee... i dont mind if you spam dm me with them HOORAY!!

THANK YOU ALL FOR AN AMAZING YEAR! HERE'S TO MANY MORE!

Alllright, final thing to close off today, and what better than with a great big THANK YOU to everyone for sticking with me for a whole year! Regardless of if you’ve been around since I first joined or if you only just followed me today, thank you so much for your support of me and my work. Knowing there are so many fantastic and wonderful individuals who all enjoy what I make is just indescribable, I get to wake up and enjoy creating things I love for the series I love so dearly all while so many amazing people enjoy what I make too. I really can’t put into words how thankful I am for everyone who follows me but genuinely from the bottom of my heart, thank you, thank you all for an amazing year and here’s hoping for many more to come!

Now, I do have a few special dedications to a few certain individuals, if I didn’t get the chance to include you PLEASE don’t think that I don’t value you in any way! There were so many cool and talented people that I wanted to thank but I simply didn’t have time to do so! You are all so important to me and it does kill me a little that I can’t thank everyone, but I am just one guy at the end of the day so again please don’t take it personally, I am still so thankful for everyone and I want you to know this. <3

ANYWAY LONG ASS BLOCK OF TEXT UNDER THE READ MORE

So, in no order in particular

@lizaluvsthis @shygirl4991 @b-r-i-n-g-x - I’m putting you all together as one because I always see you guys working as a group so it feels wrong to split you guys up lol. You were all some of the first people I ever saw in the SMG4 fandom and your contributions inspired me so much to make my own stuff too! Everything you guys make always has so much heart and soul put into it, Brewing Romance, Split into 3’s, Gay Ogres, they’re all some of the first projects I remember seeing and for that I wanna thank you guys for motivating me to make and create my own things within this fandom! Even if you guys aren’t as active now or have moved on from those projects, I still hold them dear to me so keep making and creating because you guys are all so amazing at it! <3

@mothsbakery - Moth my beloved friend, I don’t know where to start, when I first got into SMG4, I was so worried about sharing it with my friends because I was worried it would somehow get turned against me in some way (blame that damn trauma lol), so having you take a passing interest in it was such a major relief to me. I’m so glad I’ve been able to sit down with you and watch the few episodes that we have because they’ve been so much fun! I’m so glad that we’re friends even after all these years. I know I’m not always the best at keeping in touch but I do genuinely appreciate your friendship and all that we’ve done together. Please keep making and creating and enjoying what you love, seeing you come to my DM’s with your newest musical piece is always such a joy to listen to and it’s been so wonderful to watch you improve over the years! Keep being amazing Moth, I’ll chat to you soon I promise! <3

@strange0-0storm - STOOOORM!!! (POINTING AT YOU POINTING AT YOU) FREAK!!!!/J I’m kidding lol, Storm I am so glad I’ve gotten the chance to talk with you, even if it's brief, you are so fun to talk to that I can’t wait to get the chance to chat with you again about OC’s or just anything really! Your work is always so yummy, whether it's SMG4, Gravity Falls, Popee The Performer, and more, your art is always just so full of character and it just makes me wanna keep doing what I’m doing and it helps me not worry about branching out at some point to something else. No matter what I will always come back to your work because it's so amazing and it’s even better knowing it’s made but such an equally amazing person, stay awesome Storm! (also RhythmDoctor 4 life they should kiss and make out more JHBBSGHBSGH) <3

@bluesbox - Blue! Dude you are so freaking cool I cannot put it into words, not only is your work fantastic and such a joy to interact with, but you’re also so dedicated to characters lore and interactions that I can’t help but wanna be just like that! I’ll never forget when you first dropped the TSB lore presentation that shit was SO WILD, knowing there's someone who's so invested in other peoples OC’s (including my own!) to such an extent is honestly so amazing, and it really pushes me to invest more time into my own work! Knowing there’s someone out there who genuinely takes so much interest in it is so uplifting, so thank you for always wanting to know more about what I make as well as everyone else, we need more amazing people like you Blue, keep being you! (also PS, the way you give Mango glasses is probably my favourite thing someone has given him, it makes me so happy to see every time, don’t tell anyone shhhhh) <3

@libbytwq - LIBBY, LIBBY OMG I don’t think I’ve ever met another SMG4 fan who just gets the same sense of humor as me so well, I love being terminally on Tumblr and having someone else who is also terminally on Tumblr, it’s so refreshing lmao! Lore not only are you an amazing person to talk to, you are also so insanely talented to match, all of your work has so much charm and passion put into it that I can just sense it with every piece, I always want to know more with your characters like I NEED the full SMGL:E lore or else I will explode and die, that’s how good you are at getting people invested in your work! You’re so great at creating interesting and engaging characters/stories that it motivates me so much with my own work. You have so much love for what you do it’s so wonderful to see, please keep creating forever and always because your work is such an absolute joy to see. I love getting the chance to chat with you so much and I can’t wait to chat with you again, thank you for being such an amazing friend Libby! <3

@hamlos - Hamlos, your work is truly incredible. I really can’t express it enough, it’s so dynamic and flexible in such a beautiful way, everything you make is just so amazing and that's just talking about your art itself, the characters you have are so interesting I always want to know more about them, especially Cardiac I seriously love him so much and having him paired with Mango is so wonderful, they really go together so well! I’ve never had anyone go so crazy (positive) over my characters before and It’s so amazing to see, every time you come to me with your amazing work it’s always such a nice thing to see! I know I am not always the best at responding but I do always see and read everything you send me and it always leaves me with a big smile on my face. Even if you’re not super into SMG4 right now, thank you for all that you’ve done and all that you’ve made for me, HeartBeet will always have a special place in my heart and I hope it does for you too, they are gay after all lol. <3

@neo91502 @hexsie @aquaproductions - Grouping you all together even though you all couldn’t be more unique and individual, every single one of you is so special and amazing to talk to, I legit get so excited any time one of you joins a VC with me because all of you are so fun to hang out with for so many reasons! Neo omg you are honestly such a nice person to chat to and be around, you’re always so fun to hang out with and you’ve convinced me to sit down one day and listen to Epic the Musical because every time you go crazy over the word Epic, I can’t help but find it so cute lol. Nova your obsession with Hex3 is so sweet and I’m genuinely glad you’re having so much fun with it, seeing you go on rambling about your OC’s will always be such a joy to see and you know what yes one day I will draw Hex3 just for you, gimme a second though (dies first /j). And Aqua, I had no idea how much of a sweetheart you were to talk to, you are honestly so cool and I’m so glad to have you in my DM’s sending me amazing fanart that you know I’ll like, thank you so much for being so awesome and I’m giving you platonic smooches right back at ya so watch out!!! All of you are again so amazing and I can’t wait to keep chatting with all of you! <3

MY BELOVED WHO SHAN’T BE NAMED BUT I KNOW YOU’RE READING THIS!!! - Hai babe, listen, I can’t believe the whole time you’ve been dating me I’ve been an SMG4 fan, that must be so embarrassing to you lol /j but thank you so much forever and always for sticking with me. You are truly the light of my life, I treasure every moment we spend together and I am waiting for the future to come so that I can spend it with you forever and always. Thank you for not only indulging in my interests with me, but for enjoying me for who I am, everytime you call me cute for getting giddy over SMG4 it honestly makes my heart flutter and it reminds me of why I love you so much, I wouldn’t be who I am without you and I hope you can say the same thing for me. I cannot wait to get the chance to see you again in person, I need to kiss you sloppy style soooooo bad it's making me bark and growl grrr grrr bARK BARK BARK anyway I love you so much and I always will. (I will forever kiss you for getting me Smug I can’t believe you got him, he’s like a fucked up and evil son to me) <3

@ominus-potato @theartistisme43 @coralalala64 - Grouping you all together even though I have different things to say about all of you, but regardless, all of you are such amazingly talented people that I’d love to get to chat with you all properly one day, even if I’ve talked with you guys a bit it’s not enough! I’d love to get to know you guys better at some point lol. Ominus your work is just so good I can’t help but feel happy anytime I see it. I promise one day we will meet at a convention, I’m so mad I missed you once I won’t let it happen again! Cantro, your work is incredible!!! Every time I see it I’m so amazed with what you’ve made that it just gets me excited to see what else you can create, I am manifesting with all my strength that if you do ever decide to apply as a SMG4 machinima artist, that you get it because god damn you deserve it! And Coral, THE CREATURE CREATOR!!! I love your lil creatures so much, and OMG you have to teach me how to do such amazing pencil work, your work always inspires me so much and I’m so glad I’ve gotten the chance to chat with you a lil, your gif collection is truly frightening but in the best way possible. Again all of you are so amazing so please keep doing what you’re best at! <3

@tiredsmashbros - Tomm, Mr Tiredsmashbros, holy shit where do I even start with you. First of all, I would probably not be thanking half the people in this piece if not for you, I know how scary setting up a server was for you but I will forever be so thankful that you did. Finally getting the chance to chat with not only you, but so many amazing people in the SMG4 fandom has been an absolute joy and I am forever thankful for you for creating such an open and accepting space, you and Radiant are seriously so awesome for all the work you’ve put into that place. It’s from your server that i’ve learnt how wonderful and generous you are as a person, I really cannot think of anyone kinder than you Tomm, the way you always have an essay planned for every piece of fanart you get, from just your overall positive attitude, I am so glad I’ve finally gotten the chance to meet you after just being a fan of your work for so long. Your work has been such an inspiration to me and you’ve always been someone I wanted to chat with and the fact that I am now is!!! Crazy!!! I can’t believe you were scared of me at one point lol. Anyway thank you Tomm for being such a fantastic friend overall, I need to know TSB’s lore right now, can you whisper it to me I promise I’ll keep it a secret, regardless stay awesome dude, you deserve nothing but joy and happiness forever and always. Qwah Tuh (also Burgerfruit beloved, they should get weirder /j) <3

@doodledev1l - Doodle!!!!! Okay I know this sounds weird but genuinely finding another British SMG4 fan has been so refreshing, not only that but you’re super fun to talk to and be around so it’s even better! Getting the chance to hang out and chat with you is always so fun, I love getting to hear what you’re working on for uni and I always hope that it goes well for you, I know how stressful it can be lol. Regardless, I know you’ll do amazing because I’ve seen how dedicated and talented you are when it comes to your work, again I hope the rest of uni goes well for you because you deserve it, we gotta end your bad luck streak somehow lol. Thank you for being such an amazing person to chat and hang out with, keep up the amazing work dude, I’ll get you a tescos meal deal one day I promise. <3

PHEW, THAT’S EVERYONE, again thank you all so much for sticking by my side for a year! Doesn’t matter what time you showed up, I will always be thankful to know all of you, keep being awesome I love you all. I die now

Mango <3

[charleslelurk]

carlando fic recs?

*cracks knuckles* Good thing I keep a spreadsheet of all the fics I read

through the sleepless nights by nahco3

“Don’t go,” Lando says, too fast, and then scrubs his hands over his face. Carlos sighs. He looks tired. “You don’t make things easy,” Carlos says, and then kisses the top of Lando’s head. Lando wraps his arms around Carlos’s waist, burying his face in his chest, in his bright warm smell.

from here to kingdom come by anonymous

Lando marries the crown prince of Britain four months and four days after his nineteenth birthday. He meets the head of his security detail, Carlos Sainz Jr., the next afternoon. Or, a royalty AU where Lando is basically Princess Diana and Carlos is his bodyguard.

Unconstrained by kolyarostov (@landinrris)

From what Lando can see through the half-open door, there’s a guy sitting at a large table looking down at his keyboard. All Lando can plainly see is a head of dark hair, his nose, and a large bottom lip. Lando thinks he’s seen the guy around even if he doesn’t know his name. He’s beyond intimidating in a way too-attractive people often are, but Lando’s desperate. The guy’s head shoots up, eyes wide in surprise, when Lando knocks on the open door. He’s probably in the middle of office hours and not expecting anyone to need him. His gaze is as piercing as Lando remembers from the previous few times. “Can I help you?” the guy asks, probably realizing Lando’s not one of his students. And while Lando’s seen him, he doesn’t think he’s ever heard him speak. The sound of his voice is a deep timbre that curls around the English words. Lando wonders what this guy teaches and if he would be allowed to audit the class just to get more of it. Or: Lando and Carlos are in a Ph.D. program navigating both graduate school challenges as well as an ill-advised friends-with-benefits situation that has no chance of going wrong.

and all of my wildest dreams by choripain

“What time did you go to sleep last night, cabrón?” The 7AM light hitting Carlos made his Disney Prince dark hair look like a halo, his features softer in the morning. He was frowning a little bit, but in a way that made him look worried instead of angry. “Uhhhhhhhh…” “Landooooooo…” OR: the one where Lando is slowly girlrotting away and Carlos just wants to help.

re-education by pipitass

Did you forget what you are here for? He remembers. Remembers why, remembers the colors tied across his face and the fact that he has one-hundred and twenty-six ghosts watching, not just the one of the man he thought he knew. “Open your mouth, Lando,” he says, and his voice sounds just like at dinner. Just take it. You’ll be fine. So he does. OR: Lando joins a frat. It all spirals from there.

ALSO just anything by @phebess but especially: Superache, Michaelangelo's Smile (wip), and Still Into You

And any and all of pitmewithyourbeststop's one shots if you're looking for amazing smut