#i literally sat on the floor in my back room with my work laptop like a feral raccoon for 4 hours trying to get tickets

[omgchloe]

I’m so glad you got Eras tour tickets!!!!

AHHHHHHH GIRL! Me fuckin too dude! This whole week trying to secure these tickets has been the most insane and stressful experience of my life I HAVE AGED 45 YEARS BUT it's okay bc I have tickets I am going to eras I am seeing my emotional support pop star again

[hanglimi]

opposite - yu jimin

jimin is sick and tired of the stupid, good for nothing student who keeps throwing parties in the dorm room above hers. but woah, she's the complete opposite of what jimin imagined, and really hot too.

TAGS - jimin x f! reader, fluff, college au

WORDCOUNT - 2100~

WARNINGS - substance use, swearing, suggestiveness,

A/N - this is really dialogue heavy, and i can't tell if that's a bad or good thing.

“oh my god, does this ever fucking stop?” ningning whined as she sat atop jimin’s bed, her feet crossed over each other, laptop thrown onto one of the multiple pillows.

jimin threw her friend a questioning look over her shoulder. the girl was acting crazy, and she had no time to engage if she wanted to finish the paper her professor had given her weeks before. the longer she left ning alone, the better chance of there being no continuation to the conversation.

“seriously, jimin! this is driving me insane.”

“what the hell do you mean, ning,” she groaned, laying her head down on her table.

“the dorm above you! i can genuinely feel the ceiling shaking with how loud the music is, and it’s been like this everyday this week!” ningning was practically hyperventilating at this point, and sure, while jimin thought she was being a tad bit dramatic, she also had a point.

but unfortunately, jimin had gotten so used to the girl above her, and her endless parties, that she barely noticed it anymore.

“here.” she reached down into her backpack by the base of her desk, grasping around in the pockets for what she was looking for. she finally felt it’s wire as she pulled it out of the bag and threw it over to her friend, glancing back down at her respective laptop.

“earbuds? really?”

jimin ignored her question, getting back to work. If she wanted to pass this class before the end of the semester, she had no time to idly chat with her friend, no matter how much she loved her.

“jimin!” ningning screamed again a couple seconds later, her head in her hands. “how the fuck do you live with this?” she curled into herself on the bed, as if that would help with the walls literally bouncing with each bass hit from upstairs.

“remind me to never come to your dorm again. from now on, we're studying in the library,”

jimin simply giggled at the comment, tuning out the bass boosted audio and her best friend’s whining.

“damn, jimin!” aeri said, snatching the girl’s phone from her, pausing her music so she could hear what was happening, “how loud do you need your music to be to actually hear it?”

jimin gave her a sneer, and reached back for her phone, but it was just so far across the table, and minjeong was faster than her, grabbing it, and pocketing it. aeri chuckled at her struggles before slapping a hand over her mouth, slowly turning her head towards the front of the library, hoping she wouldn’t get a third warning from the librarian just today.

“her eardrums are probably nonexistent because of the bitch above her,” ning noted as she scrolled on her phone, obviously distracted from what they actually came here for.

“you’re still on about that?” jimin drawled, dropping her head and leaning down in her seat, giving up on trying to retrieve her device. “and was i the only one still on task? it’s literally only been thirty minutes, guys.”

“on about what?” minjeong asked, leaning into the gossip, “who lives above jimin?”

“dude, if i knew what her name was i'd tell you.” ningning sat up, getting ready to entertain her. “all i know is that she throws a party like every other day, and plays overly obnoxious bass boosted music. and the RA of their floor just doesn't care.”

“jimin’s on the fourth floor, right?”

jimin nodded at aeri’s question. she just wanted to finish the discussion, and get back to studying, but her friends obviously felt otherwise.

“oh my god, jimin, i fucking know who that is! it’s that y/n chick,” aeri said, laughing, but her eyes widened as she heard the loud shush of the librarian.

“as i was saying, everyone on the fifth floor despises y/n, like genuinely hates,” she said.

jimin groaned as the three of them continued to talk about every single rumour y/n was involved in, and she pressed at her eyes with the palms of her hands until she started seeing dots.

“i’m literally the one who lives below her, and i don’t care this much,” jimin complained, adjusting her body so she was sat in the chair properly. “unlike you guys, i actually have things to do, so give me back my phone, minjeong”

they all groaned at her words, minjeong muttering as she handed the device to the girl’s outreached hand.

“you’re such a buzzkill, jimin,” aeri let out a sigh, shaking her head.

“yeah, fucking buzz killer,” ning followed up.

“buzz kill~.” minjeong sang, giggling a bit with the other two girls at the end.

“shut up!”

the librarian near the main entrance lowered her glasses down her nose at the outburst, glaring at their table. “you four girls over there! out!”

jimin made sure to flip her friends off as she snatched her things away from the table, walking back to her dreaded dorm, with a huge headache caused from the three.

it was never this bad.

like sure, jimin would often notice how loud y/n’s music was, but she never really got this mad about it. it was only a passing thought usually, but today, she couldn’t ignore it. and somehow, her body betrayed her, leading jimin out of her dorm, into the elevator, and facing the perpetrators door.

she knocked once, letting precious seconds pass as she stood in front of the dorm room, tapping her foot against the floor, slipping into the beat of the drums that was in the song playing from inside the room. no one answered, even though she could tell from the yelling that there were at least ten people in there. she let out a deep exhale through her nose, and raised her fist to knock, hitting the door again.

jimin waited there a little bit longer, still tapping her foot to the song as her mind wandered to how she would deal with the infamous y/n. she waited for what she thought was eternity before she got impatient, and raised her fist to knock again, but before she could make contact, the door swung open.

“who are you?” the girl who opened the door asked, while jimin strained to hear her over her overbearing chewing of gum. the stench of liquor infiltrated her nose from the open door, and there was a light fog covering the room, hazing up her vision of any furniture in the dorm. the loud music was piercing her brain now, closer than ever, and it was making her headache stronger.

“is y/n here?” she asked in response, but the girl only stared blankly at her, continuing to chew. jimin’s jaw clenched at the lack of reaction, but assumed y/n's friend couldn’t hear her over the music.

“is y/n here!” she repeated much louder, leaning closer to the girl’s ear, but the girl shoved her backwards immediately, and sneered at her.

“i’m not deaf yet, bitch. i was just trying to figure out if you were one of her exes,” the girl scolded, leaning an arm on the doorframe and turning her body to face the inside of the dorm.

“y/n! did you invite one of your flings to our party again?” the girl screamed into the fog while jimin scowled at the back of her head. apparently, y/n responded, because she turned back around to face her after a couple of seconds. “y/n will be here in a few,” and she shut the door.

jimin already hated the girl, and she didn’t even know her name.

the door reopened after a few moments to who jimin assumed was y/n, and her heart leapt out of her chest at the sight. the girl was the complete opposite of how jimin thought she would appear, and she couldn’t believe she fell for what aeri had said before. the clothes she wore leaned to the pink, feminine side–her tank top a cute combination of red, pink and yellow–and she wore a pearl necklace to accompany the soft vibe. the look was coupled with a pink cardigan over top, which was falling down to reveal one of her shoulders.

jimin was definitely gawking at her too long, because the girl cleared her throat in annoyance.

“what do you need?” the girl’s voice was also the complete opposite of her look, siding more with what jimin had thought y/n would be like originally. the deep, rough tones of it scratched her brain in a way she never imagined before, and she almost melted right there on the spot.

“oh yeah! i’m so sorry about that. my name is jimin, and i live on the floor below you, right under your room, which is actually pretty cool, huh.” jimin stuttered through her introduction, her face heating up at the intense staring contest y/n had her locked in.

she quickly averted her eyes, wanting to look anywhere else but the student's face, “anyways, it usually hasn’t been a problem but-”

the girl cut her off, rolling her eyes at the long winded explanation. “i get it, you want us to lower the volume of the music, right?” she drawled, and her tone grated against the headache jimin had, further enhancing it.

jimin nodded her head rapidly.

“well we can’t.” y/n started, lifting her hand up to take a look at her nails which were–once again a contrast to her voice–painted a mix of pink and yellow. “not that we can’t, just that we won’t.”

jimin cocked her head in confusion, “you… won’t?”

y/n stood there, still observing her fingers, “you heard me the first time, cutie,”

even though she was slightly infuriated, she felt her heart jump at the pet name, and warmth rushed up to her cheeks once again, but she quickly shook away the feeling, steeling her face in anger.

“what do you mean by ‘you won’t’” jimin said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“exactly what it means, babe. we’re having fun, and if it’s really bothering you that much, you can leave the complex for a couple hours.” y/n finally looked away from her nails to stare up at jimin, giving her a smile, as if she was trying to soften the words.

“uh, no the fuck not.”

the girl’s eyes flashed with something jimin couldn't recognise, and y/n stood up straighter, a smirk playing on her lips at the words.

“so you stand your ground, huh?” y/n noted aloud, eyeing jimin from head to toe. “how about you come in here, and we can party together?”

“fuck you.” jimin said.

“that’s what i’m asking for,” the girl replied in a dull tone, rolling her eyes.

the girl was annoying her, and the constant flirty jokes weren’t helping jimin’s case either. she couldn’t tell if she wanted to feel flustered, angry, or perhaps a mix of both.

“i’m gonna get the RA on you. you’ll be kicked out of the dorms, or probably even the school considering the amount of weed i smell off of you right now.”

“you wanna talk to the RA about me?” y/n laughed loudly at the statement, covering her mouth with her hand, as she turned around to face the fog.

“hey, chaewon! come here,” y/n screamed over the music that was still playing, and she stood aside after a bit, letting chaewon pop her head through the door.

“meet the fifth floor’s RA!” the annoying girl cackled, doubling over at the look on jimin’s face.

the girl was wasted–jimin could tell by the dazed look in her eyes, and how she had to lean against y/n to stabilise herself.

“don’t tell anyone i’m here.” chaewon slurred, and hiccupped, slowly raising her pointer finger to press it against jimin’s lips, but she missed, and ended up poking her in the eye. “or we’ll all end up in trouble.”

“shit!” jimin exclaimed, pressing a hand to her eye trying to soothe the pain.

y/n’s mouth curved into a smile, and jimin couldn’t tell if it was from her pain or chaewon’s actions. she lightly pushed chaewon back into the room while telling her to ease up on the drinks, and came back to face jimin straight on.

“see what I mean?” y/n said, shaking her head at jimin’s poor attempts, further belittling her.

jimin scrunched her forehead up in thought. she wasn’t going to accept defeat, and let this go–that wasn’t who she was–and she didn’t want to see y/n’s stupid hot smirk again anyways.

“if you lower the volume of your music, and keep it there” she gulped, “i’ll do anything that you want me to.”

“really?” y/n eyes widened, “if so-”

“nothing sexual, of course.” jimin cut her off before she had the chance.

y/n giggled in response, “well then.”

[nicarnelian]

₊˚⊹ featuring: academic achiever! narumi gen x student council president! fem! reader

₊˚⊹ word count: 1.2k

₊˚⊹ warning: curse words, narumi being a menace, grammar errors ;-;

₊˚⊹ author’s note: literally a dump w all my thoughts. head empty, only academic achiever narumi . again, this is not beta read (i type n post lmao im gnna die w this setup) but i might make a fic w this prompt… im just lazy to edit…

it's insane how much i think about academic achiever! narumi gen and how he would always rank first in every semestral rankings. however, his life soon crumbles when he sees his name a row lower than usual: second rank.

he thinks it was a mistake, perhaps a mistype of the school administration. however, he looks at the name above him just to see one of the few names he despises. he rubs his eyes, thinking that maybe, he was hallucinating — because there was no fucking way that student council president! reader dethroned him from his position as top of his batch.

what would gen first do in this situation? ah, yes! he would absolutely storm into the council office and make a scandal, shouting and demanding how the hell did you manage to steal that spot from him! you and your other executive officers stared at him. is he fucking delusional or plain insane? who in their right mind would storm into the council office while a meeting was in progress?

and, that was when gen declared he would snatch away his title from your hands and return it to its respective owner — him.

and, from here, you deduced that indeed, he was both fucking delusional and insane.

the both of you despise working with one another, it was like cat and dog seeing your combination with him from afar. in one class with gen, you argued to disseminate tasks as soon as the project was given, but he tended to cram that paper a week before submission, which he emphasized would take up only a meager 5% of your final grade, or simply, just because he does not care.

the conclusion to your quarrel with him? both of you end up submitting individual papers.

the professor scolded you both and asked to redo the task. gen hates it, he truly detests working with you. so dignified, so strict with time as if you were to run out of it. while he, on the other hand, preferred to be lax about it. he absolutely despises how poised you acted — as if nothing was wrong with your life.

but, then again, gen doesn't know what happens behind these curtains of your composed façade. he came to your dorm since you had to redo the project with him. you and him decided to make own respective outlines and brainstorm on the final one. gen stayed in what seemed like a small living room divided by a sliding door from your bedroom, where you stayed.

however, he peeked through your sliding door when it's time for the final brainstorming session, because you aren't answering his calls from the other side. you were asleep. on your desk. you were asleep, slumped over your desk surrounded by mountains of council paperwork and reviewers.

initially, gen was annoyed. you had the audacity to sleep, while he was researching his ass off at the other side? yup, he's annoyed, alright. however, he caught a glimpse of not only an outline, but a draft to the project the both of you were working on. he swiftly took it and analyzed it. with all honesty, it was good and he couldn’t deny that. he looked back at your sleeping figure and, mysteriously, for some sort of reason, gen carried your body onto the soft cushions of your bed. gen sat on the floor, resting his back against your bed, and began drafting your collaborative paper with your draft.

you wake up at three in the morning to find a head resting on your bed edge. gen narumi, that absolute menace who declared you a rival, was sleeping in your room, beside him was a finished project with both of your names printed on a paper. you stood up and woke him up, "hey, idiot."

he stirred awake, his left hand rubbing his eyes while his laptop rested on his right arm. "hey, miss president." he smiled. a toothy grin, with his sharp, cuspid teeth – almost like a cat.

"sleep here," you offered, patting your bed.

"are you asking me to sleep beside you? want to hook up with me that badly?" his tired eyes smiled, as he adjusted himself and settled with his laptop on your bed. gen was too tired to even engage in banter with your antics.

wow, he’s surprisingly… compliant. you thought.

however, you lit up your study desk once more and gen was easily disturbed by how you were working again. he thought you needed sleep, needed rest. it was three in the morning and he doesn't deny that you still have paperwork to do. but, if you continued working like that, it would obviously have some adverse effects on your body. you were hurting yourself with your routine.

but, it's not like he's worried, of course! he just doesn't want to snatch back his title from someone who didn't put all of their effort. he doesn't care!

but, fuck those thoughts. the thunderous beating of his heart betrayed him. his mind was cloudy as hell and he was sure to be deranged the moment he asked you, "hey, princess. what time are ya sleeping?"

then, he slapped his mouth closed. princess. he just called you princess. he's dead. he was hoping that you didn’t hear him, but your head quickly whipped towards his direction, "princess?"

crap. "hah! no! it was a slip of tongue! miss president is close to princess, right? president and princess starts with the letter p!" gen knew he was screwed, wondering what the hell he was even spouting about.

there was an awkward silence that filled the room. but, you stood up your chair, and walked towards him, bending a little bit as you closed the distance between your face and his — you saw him flinch. "if you wanted to hook up with me that badly, just say so."

gen couldn't process what you've said. he didn’t expect you to use his own words against him. and, it was three in the morning, maybe the both of you were high, maybe this was all just a dream, he thought. but, he snapped back into reality when he felt a blanket shoved in his face. he tried to remove it, but felt your hands keeping it in place. “h-hey!"

"j-just go to sleep! i'm fine! i'll sleep later!" you stammered and stuttered over your words. gen stopped struggling and kept the blanket over his entire body. the reason? because his flushed face would be exposed to you and he knew that you would tease the hell out of him.

little did he know, on the other side of the room, you were heaving heavy sighs. your face turned beet red because, what the hell did you just do?

both of you lingered in each other’s silence, neither eager to speak up about what had just happened. but gen supposed that being in this situation wasn't really that bad. if he could get the stoic and poised miss president of the council stuttering like that, then maybe he's one step closer to reclaiming that title of his.

[lxvsiick]

heyyyy!!!! did you saw the recent wv post of Taesan's OMGJISMSKSKS!!!!!!!!!! He wanted to go on the Oasis's concert and was asking how to get tickets something like that and someone said "if I manages tickets with 2 seat will you go with me?" and he replied with "you can't concentrate on the performance" LIKE OMGJOKSKSKJSHSJDBDH i literally giggled after reading that 😵‍💫😵‍💫

So, coming to the point i really got a yummy angsty fluffy fluff idea after seeing that and i can't stop imagining it now‼️

Can you please write a angsty but fluff at the end where s/o and Taesan gets into a big fight ( s/o's fault ) and Taesan gives reader a silent treatment in the end s/o surprises Taesan with two tickets of Oasis's concert in Korea.

I'm not good at explaining but i hope you understood what I meant, love your writing a lot ❤️

MESS IT UP (REQUESTED) | HAN TAESAN X READER

PAIRING: non! idol! han taesan x fem! reader

GENRE: angst, fluff, imagine

WORDCOUNT: 3.4k

A/N: i’m sorry if this doesn’t meet your expectations 😭 i wrote this on 2 hours of sleep so it’s not my best work :( this wasn’t as angsty as i hoped and my brain is kind of blank at the moment 🥲

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

The soft hum of background music filled the cozy living room as Taesan and Y/n lounged on the couch, side by side, each engrossed in their phones. The gentle rustling of their scrolling was the only other sound, comfortable in their quiet companionship. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room.

Suddenly, Taesan jumped up from his seat, startling Y/n. His eyes were wide with excitement, and a grin spread across his face.

“Holy—no way!” he exclaimed, almost bouncing on his feet.

Y/n, confused and slightly amused by his sudden burst of energy, lowered her phone and raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s gotten into you?” she asked with a small laugh. “You look like you won the lottery.”

He turned his phone around to show her the screen, his hand trembling with excitement. “Oasis!” he practically shouted. “They’re holding a concert in Korea!”

Y/n blinked, leaning closer to read the post on his phone. Sure enough, there it was: Oasis Live in Seoul. She looked back up at him, his excitement contagious as he practically vibrated with joy.

“No way,” she said, a smile creeping onto her face at seeing him so hyped. “You’re a huge fan of them, right?”

“Huge fan?” he repeated, flopping back onto the couch beside her, still buzzing with energy. “Y/n, Oasis is like my lifeblood! I’ve been waiting for this for ages. I am definitely getting tickets. I don’t care what it takes.”

He was already swiping through his phone, checking the ticketing site, his fingers moving rapidly as if the concert was going to sell out that second. Y/n chuckled, watching him.

“Calm down,” she teased. “You’ll probably crash the site with how fast you’re trying to get in.”

He shot her a playful look, eyes gleaming with determination. “I have to be prepared! This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing! Oasis. In Korea. We’re going!”

“We?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course!” he said, beaming. “I’m not going without you. Plus, who else is gonna calm me down when I lose it during all the songs’?”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head as he continued to scroll. “Alright, alright, I guess I’m going to an Oasis concert then.”

“You won’t regret it!” he said, throwing his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close, his eyes still glued to his phone. “I’m getting those tickets no matter what. It’s gonna be great!”

As he leaned into her, still bubbling with enthusiasm, Y/n smiled to herself, amused by how excited he was, yet feeling warm at the thought of sharing the experience with him.

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

The soft glow of a laptop screen lit up Taesan’s tense face as he sat hunched over the coffee table, fingers poised above the keyboard, eyes glued to the screen. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, bouncing his leg nervously, unable to sit still. The ticking countdown on the concert ticket website loomed in front of him, each second feeling like an eternity.

"Come on, come on," he muttered under his breath, glancing at the remaining time—just seconds to go. His heart pounded in anticipation.

3… 2… 1…

The timer hit zero, and Taesan lunged forward, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he clicked frantically to secure the tickets. The screen refreshed, loading… loading…

His chest tightened. The queue moved at a snail's pace, but finally, the buy button appeared. He clicked it with desperation, but before he could even exhale, the screen flashed red.

“Sold out.”

His stomach sank. He blinked, staring at the mocking words in disbelief. "No way," he whispered, his hand hovering above the mouse as if it could somehow change the outcome. He tried refreshing again, but the result was the same.

Hours later, the front door creaked open. Y/n stepped into the apartment, kicking off her shoes and calling out, "Dongminnie, I'm back!"

There was no response.

Frowning slightly, she made her way to the living room, where she found Taesan still sitting in the exact same spot, staring blankly at his laptop. He looked completely drained, his face devoid of any of his usual energy.

"Hey," she said softly, walking over to him. "Did you get the tickets?"

His silence spoke volumes.

She knelt behind him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him into a gentle hug from behind. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she looked at the frozen screen in front of him. "They sold out, didn’t they?" she whispered, understanding instantly.

He nodded slightly, still not taking his eyes off the screen. "I can’t believe it," he said, his voice low and filled with disbelief. "They sold out so fast."

Y/n tightened her hold on him, rubbing his shoulder in comfort. "I’m sorry," she said softly, resting her cheek against his.

For a moment, they just sat there, quiet and close, the disappointment lingering heavily in the air. Taesan let out a long breath, finally pulling his gaze away from the screen and leaning into her touch. "I’ve been sitting here for hours," he admitted with a frustrated chuckle. "I was so ready."

"I know," she said, her voice soothing. "But we’ll find another way. There’ll be more concerts."

"Yeah," he sighed, trying to cheer up, but the weight of missing out still hung over him. He rested his head against hers. "Guess I’ll have to settle for watching videos online."

Y/n smiled, kissing his cheek lightly. "Or maybe I’ll make it my mission to get you those tickets somehow," she teased gently, trying to lift his spirits.

He chuckled softly, finally breaking into a small smile. "If anyone can pull that off, it’s you."

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

The soft glow of the TV flickered in the otherwise dark living room. Taesan sat slouched on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He sighed in frustration as he came across yet another post of someone bragging about their concert tickets. It had been two days since he failed to secure tickets, but the disappointment still lingered. Every tweet, every post—it all felt like a taunt.

The clock ticked toward 11 p.m. Y/n still wasn’t home. He glanced at his phone again, noticing his last message to her, sent hours ago, still sat unread. Usually, she was back by 8 after her shift, but now it was already late.

Just as his worry began to escalate, the door clicked open. He perked up, sitting straighter, and turned toward the entrance. Y/n stepped inside, a little breathless, carrying her bag over one shoulder. She froze momentarily upon seeing him awake.

"You're still up?" she asked, surprise flickering in her eyes.

Taesan stood up from the couch, eyeing her with a mix of concern and curiosity. "Yeah. It's kinda late, don't you think? I was waiting for you. You didn’t answer my texts."

She set her bag down carefully, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "Oh… yeah, sorry about that. It was just a really long day," she replied, her tone tired yet strangely distracted. "I didn’t get the chance to check my phone."

He frowned slightly, sensing something off in her demeanor. "You okay? Work rough today?"

She nodded, but her answer was delayed. "Yeah, something like that."

Y/n shuffled past him toward the kitchen, busying herself with pouring a glass of water. Taesan followed her, leaning against the doorway, watching her with a concerned expression.

"Everything good? You’re acting kinda weird," he said, his voice gentle but probing.

Her hands paused, gripping the glass tightly. "Yeah, I’m fine," she said, forcing a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She took a sip of water, then cleared her throat. "I just wanted to tell you… I’m going to be really busy for the next few days. You might not see me around much."

The way she said it sounded rehearsed, and there was a nervous edge to her voice that wasn’t lost on him.

"Busy?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "With what?"

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her back still turned to him. "You know… work and other things. I’ve just got a lot going on. I’ll probably be out late, so don’t wait up for me."

Taesan stared at her, his gaze narrowing slightly. She was being evasive, and he knew her well enough to pick up on it. But instead of pressing her, he let it slide—for now. "Okay… if you say so."

She finally turned to face him, offering another weak smile. "Thanks for understanding."

He returned her smile, but it was laced with quiet suspicion. Something didn’t feel right, but he wasn’t going to push it just yet. "Yeah, no problem," he said, though his mind was already racing with possibilities. What was she up to?

As she headed toward their room, Taesan remained in the doorway, watching her with a mix of curiosity and concern. There was definitely something she wasn’t telling him.

Whatever it was, he had a feeling he was going to find out soon enough.

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

The sound of the shower dripped to a halt as Taesan turned off the water, wrapping a towel around his waist. The past few days had been gnawing at him—Y/n had been acting off. She’d been leaving the apartment earlier than usual, coming home late, and constantly checking her phone, flipping it face down every time it buzzed. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but with each passing day, it became harder to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

Drying off quickly, he stepped out of the bathroom, running a hand through his damp hair. As he walked down the hallway, a faint voice caught his attention. He paused.

It was Y/n, her voice low, almost a whisper. She was on the phone, and though he didn’t want to eavesdrop, something about her tone made him freeze in place.

"I know," she murmured, her back to him as she stood by the kitchen counter. He could just make out her figure from where he stood, hidden around the corner. "But he can’t find out. He has no clue right now."

His heart skipped a beat.

Y/n shifted, pacing slightly, her fingers gripping the phone tightly. "I talked to Jaehyun already. We’ll make sure everything’s set. Just don’t let him know. I don’t want him to find out."

Taesan's stomach twisted painfully. Jaehyun? Why would she be talking to Jaehyun behind his back? And what did she mean by he can’t find out? His mind spiraled with possibilities, each one worse than the last.

Was she hiding something from him? Something serious? His throat felt tight as the worst-case scenario flooded his mind—was she… cheating on him?

He shook his head slightly, trying to push away the thought, but it lingered like a dark cloud. He wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions, but the secrecy, the late nights, the constant checking of her phone—it was all piling up.

He took a small step forward, his heart pounding in his chest, but before he could do anything, she ended the call abruptly. "Okay, I’ll see you later," she whispered into the phone before hanging up. Her shoulders relaxed, and she put the phone down, letting out a quiet breath.

The tension in Taesan’s chest felt unbearable. He stood there, unsure of what to do, caught between confronting her and giving her the benefit of the doubt.

Without thinking, he stepped fully into the room, acting casual as if he hadn’t just overheard the entire conversation. "Hey, everything okay?" he asked, trying to sound normal even though his voice came out a little too tight.

Y/n jumped slightly, clearly startled. "Oh, yeah! Everything’s fine," she said quickly, giving him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Just talking to a friend."

His eyes flicked to her phone, now face down on the counter, and then back to her. "Anything I should know about?" he asked lightly, though the tension in his voice was hard to mask.

Her smile faltered for just a second, and she shook her head. "No, nothing important."

He nodded slowly, forcing a smile, but the knot in his stomach remained.

As Y/n went back to what she was doing, Taesan stood there for a moment longer, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between them. Something was going on, and whatever it was, she wasn’t telling him.

The silence between them felt thicker than usual, and as he sat down on the couch, he couldn’t help but wonder—was she keeping a secret that could tear them apart?

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

The soft hum of the television filled the living room, casting a warm, flickering light over Taesan and Y/n as they sat on the couch. But despite the comfortable setting, an uneasy silence hung in the air.

Taesan was lost in thought, his eyes fixed blankly on the screen but not really seeing it. The conversation he overheard a few days ago still gnawed at him, his mind running in circles. He couldn't shake the doubt, the questions, the fear.

Beside him, Y/n noticed his silence. She glanced at him, concerned. "Hey," she said softly, nudging him. "What's going on? You’ve been quiet all day."

He didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as he debated whether to say what had been weighing on his heart. The tension between them had only grown over the past few days, the distance widening like a chasm.

Finally, he turned to her, his voice low but direct. "Are you cheating on me with Jaehyun?"

The question hung in the air like a heavy cloud, thick with uncertainty.

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock. "What?" She sat up straight, her heart racing. "Where is this even coming from?"

His gaze didn’t waver. "I overheard you talking on the phone a few days ago. You were whispering about how I couldn’t find out, and you mentioned Jaehyun. You’ve been acting suspicious for weeks now. I didn’t want to assume the worst, but… what else am I supposed to think?"

The disbelief on Y/n’s face quickly gave way to anger. Her mind raced, and in her frustration, she forgot the real reason she had been acting so secretive. But the accusation caught her completely off guard, making her lash out.

"Are you serious right now?" she snapped, standing up from the couch, her eyes blazing with hurt and anger. "How could you even think that?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have thought this way if you weren’t being so secretive!” Taesan snapped back, standing up from the couch. Y/n brushes her hair back in frustration. 

“I know you’re smart but I can’t believe you would come up with that conclusion. Maybe you should stay out of my business if you’re going to make stupid assumptions." she blurted out.

The words left her lips before she could stop them.

Taesan flinched as if she’d physically struck him. His face went pale, his eyes filled with hurt that cut deep. For a moment, he just stood there, stunned.

"You want me to stay out of your business?" he repeated, his voice soft but filled with disbelief. He stared at her, the sting of her words hanging in the air. "Is that what you really want?"

Instantly, Y/n regretted what she’d said. Her anger melted into guilt as she realized the gravity of her outburst. This wasn’t about keeping him out of her business—she had been planning something special for him, but in her frustration, she had lost control. She opened her mouth to take it back, to explain, but the damage was already done.

The room felt suffocating with the weight of everything unsaid.

Taesan took a slow breath, clearly trying to hold himself together. "I’m not gonna fight with you over this," he said quietly, his voice strained. "You need space, fine. I’ll give you space. We can talk when you’ve calmed down."

He turned and walked toward the door, each step heavy with the pain he was trying to conceal. Y/n watched him go, the words stuck in her throat, but she couldn’t bring herself to say them.

As the door clicked shut behind him, the silence that followed was deafening.

She sank back down onto the couch, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. She had just wanted to surprise him with something that would make him happy, but now she had hurt him instead. Her hands trembled as she realized how badly she had messed up.

All she wanted was to make things right. But now, she wasn’t sure how.

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

The tension in the apartment had been unbearable for the past few days. Every attempt Y/n made to apologize was met with silence. She tried small gestures—making his favorite meals, leaving sweet notes, even trying to strike up conversations—but Taesan would just nod or walk away. The rift between them felt wider than ever.

It was two days before the Oasis concert, and Y/n was at her breaking point. She knew she had to tell him the truth, even if it meant ruining the surprise. Anything was better than this painful silence. She found him in the living room, sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

Taking a deep breath, she walked over, standing in front of him. "Can we please talk?" she asked softly, her voice trembling.

Taesan didn’t respond, his eyes still on the screen.

Her heart sank. She had been holding it together for days, but the weight of his cold shoulder, the guilt that gnawed at her for keeping the secret, and the regret for the fight was too much. Tears welled up in her eyes, her chest tightening as she tried to hold them back.

"Please, I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking as a tear slipped down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away but more followed. "I… I wasn’t cheating on you. I swear. I was trying to surprise you." Her hands fumbled in her pocket, pulling out two Oasis concert tickets. "These… these were for you. I got them with the help of your friends. That’s why I was being so secretive."

Finally, Taesan looked up from his phone, his eyes widening as he saw the tickets in her hand and the tears on her face. His heart dropped as guilt hit him like a punch in the chest. He had been so convinced that she was hiding something worse, that she was drifting away from him. But now, seeing her standing there, crying and holding those tickets, he realized just how wrong he’d been.

He stood up quickly, closing the distance between them and pulling her into a tight hug. Her body shook as she cried into his chest, her arms hesitating for a moment before wrapping around him.

"Hey, hey… don’t cry," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. He pulled back just slightly, just enough to tilt her chin up, and pecked her lips softly. "I’m sorry," he murmured, brushing his thumb over her damp cheeks, wiping away the tears.

Y/n sniffled, her lip trembling. "Can you forgive me?" she asked, her voice so small and vulnerable.

He nodded, guilt still gnawing at him, but the love he felt for her far outweighed it. "Of course I can. I’m sorry too, for jumping to conclusions and giving you the cold shoulder. I shouldn’t have assumed you were cheating."

She smiled faintly through her tears, leaning into his touch. "I just wanted to surprise you with the tickets…"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "And I was so butt hurt about not getting those tickets, I actually thought you might’ve cheated on me with Jaehyun because of it." He gave her a sheepish grin, clearly embarrassed.

That lightened the mood, and Y/n let out a weak laugh, sniffling again as she wiped the last of her tears. "You’re an idiot."

"I know," he admitted, pulling her back into his arms. This time, the embrace was calm, comforting. They stayed like that for a long moment, neither one wanting to break the warmth and peace they’d finally found again.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair, holding her close.

"I love you too," she replied softly, her head resting on his chest, the steady beat of his heart soothing her. They had been through a storm, but now, in each other’s arms, everything felt right again.

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Love Game

DI!Single!Dad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You hear a glimpse of Leon's relationship with his daughter. And later he makes you a proposal you just can't refuse

Warnings: mild sexual content, still minors dni, brief phone sex, allusions to sex, Leon has a mouth on his as always, bit of soft!dom leon, mostly Leon being a soft dad on this one, foul language (as always), no use of y/n

WC: 3k

A/N: so I'm totally in love with this dynamic! And yalls support was insane. I literally wrote two separate drafts of a continuation of these two and whichever I finished first was gonna be posted, so the light smut one won bc I'm tired atm and didn't feel like sitting in front of my computer for 6 hours🙃 so this short part will have a second part to it with full spicy time. And another standalone part with these two (coffee and other things) having some more spicy time is also in the works, so stay tuned. Besitos <3

Universe Masterlist

Leon blinked slowly, his eyes now starting to grow sore from staring at the bright computer screen for so long. But he just hadn't had time to finish this stupid report. Sure, he has had two whole days to get it done, but with a tiny human clinging to his arm every waking minute, it was a bit more complicated than he thought. But he couldn't possibly ignore his little girl when he barely had the time to be with her without having to worry about stopping some mad scientist with too much time in their hands. He didn't mind though. His little girl was more important than anything else. 

Still, he took advantage of the little window of time he had now. He had given Isabella dinner a little over an hour ago. Then left her in the dining room to finish her homework. She had always been a smart girl, responsible with her homework, she never fussed when he asked her to do it, so it didn't worry him in the slightest to leave her to do her own thing. She tended to get distracted when he was around anyway. 

Though, maybe an hour had gone by when he heard tiny feet pad bare through the wood floors and he saw a mess of chocolate brown strands sticking from its bun peek above his computer screen. He slowly lowered the screen until it was almost shut and he was met with a pair of sapphire eyes that were a replica of his own. He raised an eyebrow at her. 

"Daddy." She took a step closer to him, her eyes big like she wanted to ask him something. 

Leon sat up fully, setting his laptop aside and nodded at her, giving her his full attention now. "What's up bee?" 

"Can I.. uhm.. I can play with your switch now?" She asked, dark lashes batting as she fiddled with her hands. As if she had to give him puppy dog eyes for him to say yes. He kept his face serious though. 

"You wanna play on my switch?" She nodded. He ran his fingers over his light stubble as if he was thinking real hard, he pursed his lips in thought. "I dunno hun, did you finish your homework?" 

"How did you know I had homework?" She asked with an adorable frown on her face, it took Leon all of his willpower not to break then. 

"Well I do now." He slipped a smile and she pouted. He couldn't help but chuckle at his little girl. He took her in his arms and sat her on his lap. "Well I knew before. Wanna know how?" 

Her head perked up. "How?" 

Leon leaned into her ear with a smile, "'Cause dads know everything about their little girls." He pressed a kiss to the side of her hair and set her back on her feet. "But yeah, Miss Pretty Teacher told me." 

"That's cheating!" She whipped her head around with a gasp and glared at him. He again couldn't hide his laugh. 

"Yeah alright, you caught me," he raised his hands up at her in surrender. "You can play on the switch for a bit. Do you remember how to turn it on?" 

Izzy proudly nodded and skipped over to the large TV hooked up to the living room. The TV had been on, nothing playing, but just on, since Leon had intended to play some white noise in the background but never actually loaded up anything. He switched to the right input as he watched Izzy turn on the Switch. It took her a second to remember how, but she was happily skipping back to the couch with the controllers as the loading screen came up before Leon could get up to help. He shook his head to himself, but he puffed out a breath when Izzy jumped on his lap, rather hard, the little girl giggling when he groaned. 

"Jesus Christ, when did you get so big?" He chuckled, fixing her on his lap so she wouldn't fall and watched as she scrolled through the games until she found Mario Kart. 

"I turned seven in October, remember?" She piped up, genuinely reminding him of such an important date, as if he would ever forget. He nodded. 

"I know, Izzy. I took you to Dave and Busters with Amara, remember?" 

"Oh. Yeah, you're right. That was fun. We should go again sometime! Please daddy?" She turned her head to look at him with this smile on her face and her big blue eyes. 

God, what did he ever do to deserve this kid? 

He pressed his lips to her forehead and nodded. 

"'Course. I'll talk to Amara's mom, okay?" 

He watched as Izzy excitedly nodded and cheered happily before she got lost in the game in front of her. He didn't mind her having screen time. It wasn't like she had an iPad glued to her face twenty-four-seven. He let her play once or twice a week, and maybe a third if he was feeling like playing with her. And she was more than happy to spend that time with her dad. 

Tonight he wasn't really feeling playing, so he watched her do her best. To her, she was the biggest winner there ever was, throwing turtle shells and bombs at practically nothing and hitting the wall with every curve, but she had fun with it, so he let her be, cheering her on whenever she finished a race, even if it was in ninth or eighth place. 

Maybe thirty minutes had passed when he felt his phone buzz beside him. He took his eyes away from the colorful screen to look at his phone. It lit up with a text, and his smile grew wide at the name. 

My pretty teacher. 

He grabbed his phone and quickly opened the conversation. You had been texting back and forth all day, for days now, after what he considered a perfect first date, but he just hadn't gotten around to match your schedule to plan another date. So you had resorted to texting and maybe calling once here and there. But God, he was really missing you right about now.

My pretty teacher: sorry, I went to dinner with my mom and sister. And I just got home. Hru? 

He bit his lip as he attempted to type into his phone one handed. 

Me: It's fine. I'm ok. With izzy. 

My pretty teacher: awww🥰 

Me: Can you call? I'm texting with one hand at the moment. 

You saw the message, and he could see the three text bubbles appear and disappear. Until they didn't come back. He mentally grimaced at himself, maybe the idea of talking to him while Isabella was there made you uncomfortable? Shit. He hadn't thought about that. Christ, he hadn't dated in so long he had forgotten that being a single dad wasn't exactly the biggest turn on. No matter how much one liked kids. 

His anxiety riddled brain stopped racing when he saw your contact name pop up on his screen as his phone started ringing. He grinned to himself. He glanced at Izzy— her full attention was still on her game, he shrugged and answered the call. He set his phone down, still having one ear bud in from when he was working on his laptop. 

"Hey Miss." He spoke first, his heart racing in his chest a bit. 

"Hi Leon." He could hear the smile in your voice. That shy smile he thought was the prettiest thing. 

"You busy?" He asked, still a bit worried he was interrupting you in the middle of something. Though the indistinct sound of TV playing in the background let him know that maybe you weren't that busy. 

"Not really. I got home a little bit ago so I was just about to run myself a bath." You answered, walking back and forth between your bedroom and the bathroom connected to it. "You?"

Leon tried his hardest not to think about your words too much. Not right now. 

"Nah. Just watching Izzy play on my switch. She's kicking ass in Mario Kart." He heard you blurt out a giggle, which made him chuckle, but what made him actually laugh was Izzy shooting him a frown over her shoulder. 

"Daddy, that's a no-no word." 

Leon snapped his head down at Izzy and he frowned, not sure if he heard her correctly, "What's that bee?" 

"I said that's a bad word."

"What is?" 

"Ass." 

Leon almost snorted at the way she said the word. With a frown and her lips pursed. He didn't care if she said bad words or not. He sure as hell said them all the time, but he encouraged her not to repeat what he said, in front of other people, at least. He narrowed his eyes at her. 

"So don't say it. I'm an adult. I can say them." When she kept looking at him, he placed a hand on top of her head and —gently— turned her head back towards the TV screen, despite her protest. "Keep playing your game, Isabella. Or you can't sit on my lap anymore." 

All Leon could hear was you attempting to muffle your laughter, but he could hear your giggles loud and clear. He only rolled his eyes, but he had a tiny smile of his own. 

"C'mon don't laugh, being a parent is hard. Are you the one teaching her this no-no bull— B.S?" He caught himself, closing his eyes when you laughed even more, now not even bothering to hide it. 

"I have to! I have a swear jar, I'm sorry. I gotta set an example." 

He actually laughed at this, remembering the mouth you had on you when he had you on his bed. 

"Yeah, well, you weren't so pure and innocent when you were screaming—" He caught himself again, his own eyes widening when he remembered Isabella was right there and he sighed out softly. "Give me an hour and I'll give you the answer you deserve, Miss." 

You stayed quiet for a second, not because he offended you, but because you needed a second to breathe and control the heat that flashed between your legs at his insinuation. You exhaled deeply before responding. 

"You're what again? Playing Switch with Izzy? 

Leon hummed in response. "She is. She's sitting on my lap so I'm being forced to watch." 

"I'm not forcing you!"

"On your game, Isabella. Stop listening to my conversation." 

"Does she have her own Switch or something?" You asked, now sitting on the edge of your bathtub as hot water poured from the faucet. 

"No. It's my Switch. But I leave it in the living room so she can play sometimes." He answered you with a shrug you obviously couldn't see. 

You chuckled softly, "How old are you again?" 

"Thirty-eight, but that's besides the point. I barely have time to use the thing. I mostly bought it for Izzy." He wasn't lying— entirely. He sometimes played, late at night by himself when he wanted to drown himself in a bottle of whiskey. He would choose to play a game to blow off steam instead of getting drunk with his little girl sleeping in the next room or passing out drunk at some shitty bar. 

"I'm very convinced by that." You snorted, making him sigh out at you.

"Hmph. Whatever. You wouldn't understand how cathartic throwing green turtle shells at tiny cars can be." 

"Oh I bet." 

"Daddy?" You heard Isabella's voice through the phone and your heart warmed.

Leon looked down at Izzy, "Yeah?" 

"Who are you talking to?" She asked with genuine curiosity, her very glorious race tournament now over and her attention was on him. 

He heard you go silent, most likely having heard the little girl and he sighed out, his eyes landing up on the ceiling for a second as he thought of his answer. 

"Just a friend, bee." He ultimately decided on that answer. It wasn't that he was ashamed of being with you, not at all, but Izzy was still young, and even he knew there had to be a proper introduction of you outside of your teacher role. He actually wanted to do this the right way.

"You fuck my brains out last week and I'm just a friend now?" He heard you comment in his ear and he groaned out. 

"C'mon, that's not fair." He leaned back into the couch, his forearm over his eyes now as he basically had two women all over him, pressing him with way too many questions for his liking. 

"I'm just giving you a hard time, Leon. I get it." There was humor in your voice, lightheartedness and even though he couldn't see you, he had a feeling you had that gentle smile on your lips. That eased the pressure on his chest. 

"Listen sweetheart, it's almost Izzy's bedtime," His eyes were on Izzy now, and with his eyes he was nudging at her to start wrapping up her game. She pouted, but didn't otherwise fuss. "Call you in an hour?" 

You both had this dumb, lovesick smile on your face, if only you could see the other.

"I'll be up."

The warm water, the foaming body wash and the intoxicating smell of your favorite candle had done wonders to relax you. When you left the bathtub you felt like a whole new person. Though there still this tug of butterflies in your stomach as you anxiously waited for Leon to call you. 

You sat on the edge of the tub, warm and fluffy robe wrapped around your naked body as you mindlessly scrolled through your social media for a little while before you decided to check out for the night. You nearly slipped right off the tile when your phone buzzed and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine. 

"Hey, sorry about, y’know, earlier. Izzy and I are like that." You smiled at the sound of Leon's voice, now a bit hushed but more relaxed and carefree, like he now could say whatever the fuck he wanted. 

"It's okay. It was cute, hearing how you talk to her. You're sweet." You smiled to yourself, and you could hear him breathe out a soft laugh, most likely a bit flustered by your words, but he otherwise didn't show it. "You put her to sleep though?" 

"Yeah, I stayed with her 'til she fell asleep. I'm in my bedroom now, about to take a shower." He said the words slowly, with purpose, like he wanted you to think about it like he had been thinking about you, taking that bath. "So, you take your bath yet?" 

"Yeah, it was nice. I definitely needed it. I could've used some company though." You bit your lip, testing his reaction. There was silence, then he hummed. 

"Yeah? That so?" Now it was your turn to hum in agreement, your legs instinctively closing as you tried to soothe the ache between your thighs. "I'm sure you could've. Would've been nice to have someone hold you, right? Have someone leave kisses on your wet skin, say how good you're doing while getting your pretty pussy fingered?" 

You couldn't hold back the moan that left your throat at his words, and your free hand instantly traveled down, stopping at your belly. 

"Oh, that's a sound I'll never get tired of hearing. Fuck, you're already moaning for me and I'm not even there to give you a reason." He exhaled out a chuckle, his hardening cock starting to press against his sweatpants. 

"Fuck, I really wish you were here." You sighed out, your hand itching closer towards your already wet cunt, but you knew it wasn't your touch you ached for. It was Leon's. 

"Yeah? Why's that?" 

You whined softly, your phone almost slipping off your grip as your head fell to the side. "Leon…" 

"Tell me." 

"Because… I really, really, need you to touch me, hold me, ugh— I just need you to fuck me, Leon." 

Leon clenched his fist as his side, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he listened to your desperate words, and the sound shot straight to his cock. Fuck, he'd be lying if he said he didn't need you, too. 

"Goddamn baby," He grunted softly, his hand now brushing the front of his sweats, where his cock strained against the material, and he tried to muffle the sound between his teeth, but you heard it anyway. "You have no fucking idea how much I've been wanting to ruin that pussy of yours again. It's actually driving me crazy." 

You shuddered, the ache between your legs starting to become unbearable. "I really want to see you too, baby." 

Leon closed his eyes, biting his lip raw as he thought fuck it. He could explain in the morning. 

"Fuck it, just fuck it. Wanna take the drive here? I swear I'll give you exactly what you need and it'll be so worth it." 

You'd like to think you were a rational person, you always thought things through twice, three times if necessary. You didn't take risks, much less acted in a way that could be considered immoral, but for Leon? Fuck, for that man you would become the biggest whore in this world if it meant he would take you just one more time. 

"Be there in thirty." 

Fuck it. 

Sneak peek of A Love Game Part II, coming soon

His lips were hard on your own, messy on your jaw, like he didn't know which part he wanted to kiss more. Your fingers were entangled in his perfectly soft honey brown strands, already melting under his touch. His hand came up under your jaw to grip your face in place, long fingers sprawled out over your neck. He pulled you back by your face and his eyes were hard on you, with this mixture of authority and utter need to fuck you. He could be both. 

"This is how this is gonna be. I'm going to throw you on that bed and fuck you the way you deserve. But I better not hear a single fucking sound leave those pretty lips of yours. Not tonight. Got it?"

Stay tuned for upcoming parts lovelies. Besitos<3

[yangfleurs]

stray kids reaction: they call you clingy

maknae line

pt.2

(hyung line pt.1 is here)

jisung

what you liked most about being with jisung was that it was never complicated with him. you two seemed to always be in tune with each other, knowing when to keep your distance and when to show your affectionate sides. but you knew jisung was an introvert, through and through, and there was nothing he loved more than his time alone. and so you left him to himself when he needed you to; you and him both knew it was good for couples to have their own lives and interests outside of each other.

it was one of those days with jisung, where he needed to spend some time with himself to recharge so he could be his best self at work the next day. you didn’t mind, obviously; you were a busy person yourself, and between school and work, there really wasn’t any time for you to let loose with jisung today anyway. 

you spent practically the entire morning after breakfast sat on the living room floor and glued to your laptop, fervently typing away on a paper you definitely should’ve started earlier. but if you pushed through it the whole day and only took a few short breaks, you were sure you’d be done by midnight. you were ready to take your first one of those planned breaks to make lunch and eat, but a wave of laziness washed over you. you didn’t feel like cooking at all, not after pouring your brain’s contents into your work for so long. you started convincing yourself you could work through your designated lunch break and just eat a big dinner when jisung came out of the bedroom, bundled up in his puffer jacket.

“I’m going to the convenience store.” he grumbled out, shuffling towards the door.

why didn’t you think of that? you could grab some cheap, prepared food to eat there, while also getting some fresh air on your skin and a little bit of time to spend with jisung. “let’s go together! I need to grab something to eat, too.” you said, rushing to your bedroom to grab your own jacket. you quickly scrambled through your closet, finding your own puffer, before heading back into the living room. when you came back out though, jisung was nowhere in sight. you figured he was just downstairs and hurried to throw on your shoes so he wouldn’t grow impatient waiting for you. if there was one thing jisung hated, it was waiting, you thought to yourself as you skittered down the stairs.

when you got out of your building, jisung was already walking towards the direction of the convenience store, clearly not waiting for you. you ran to catch up with him, a little embarrassed at how he left you behind.

“hey, why didn’t you wait? I literally only took two minutes.” you mumbled, a little bummed out by his attitude.

“I wanna get back to my show, y/n.” he said with an over-exaggerated sigh which made you roll your eyes. 

“you’re always so serious about your shows, it’s cute.” you giggled a little, leaning towards him and reaching for his hand. just as you were about to hold it, he briskly tucked his hand into his jacket pocket, keeping his eyes straight ahead and away from you. you coughed a little and turned your face the other direction to hide the humiliating red crawling up your neck and onto your face.

you arrived at the convenience store in complete silence, immediately going your separate ways to grab your food. you grabbed a triangle kimbap for lunch and then a ramen you could make quickly later in the night for dinner. you made yourself an iced coffee too, hoping some caffeine would help you focus in on your work and ignore the tension between you and your boyfriend. you found him already at the counter, putting his things down. you put your things down to the side of the counter so you could search for your wallet. you pat around your pants and then your jacket, but you don’t feel it anywhere on you.

“shit, shit, I forgot my wallet.” you groaned.

"we’re together.” he muttered, pushing your things with his and handing the employee his card. you thanked him quietly, hiding your smile by looking down. there was your jisung, considerate and always looking out for you. 

“you forgot your wallet on purpose, didn’t you? y/n, I know you’re on the clingier side, but don’t you think that’s too much?” he huffed as he waited for his card to go through, “I asked for literally one day on my own and you just had to follow me to the convenience store and then you just conveniently didn’t remember your wallet? seriously?” he rolled his eyes.

you were stunned, to say the least. the employee looked at you both awkwardly, coughing a little and turning away so she didn’t embarrass you. but it was too late for that; as he started to put the food in his bag, you yanked him by the arm to turn him to face you. he looked at you, completely bewildered at your aggression. you didn’t care, though---if he got to give you an earful, you should return the favor.

“who do you take me for, jisung? god forbid I forget my wallet while rushing out to catch up with my boyfriend who’s running away from me like I’m some sort of fucking plague,” you seethed, “I haven’t eaten in hours, jisung. I’ve been working my ass off, not once even trying to talk to you. I am not as obsessed with you as you’ve deluded yourself into thinking.” you spat, shoving your food into his arms. “and since you’re so concerned about the what, ten dollars, you had to spend on me? take the food. I just lost my appetite.”

you walked out of the convenience store and away from him in the opposite direction, so you could both hide the tears that you were bound to spill as well as to go anywhere but back to your shared apartment. 

you headed to your school, figuring you could finish your paper at the library there. you had already wasted so much time, and an all-nighter was soon going to be inevitable. you also knew you had a limited amount of energy left in you on an empty stomach, hearing it growl as you thought of your situation. you quietly groaned, sniffling as you trudged along. you’d kill to just have your boyfriend comfort you and support you through this grueling assignment, but instead, you were burning with humiliation at being berated by him in front of a complete stranger.

you walked slowly, counting your steps and hoping you’d hear jisung’s heavy footsteps running to catch up with you any moment now. but that moment never came, not even after you’d barely walked half a block in fifteen minutes. you had both, literally, parted ways. and it made you wonder if it symbolized something more than just a small argument.

felix

you were walking backstage to meet your boyfriend, felix, and his members to cheer them on for their final music bank performance of the season. this was a tradition for you; at the end of all of their final comeback performances, you would bring them as well as their staff a well-deserved, expensive meal to end the comeback strongly. it wasn’t burdensome for you; if anything, you were always thankful to them for taking care of felix and you wanted to express your gratitude through feeding them some delicious food. 

you walked in clumsily, stumbling a little as the boys’s manager let you past security. you greeted him politely, handing him the food that was meant for him and the staff. you greeted the staff as well, bowing deeply at all of them like you always did; you knew they were practically family to your boyfriend, so you treated them with as much respect as you would his actual family. you turned to their manager again to speak.

“I’ll take the food for the boys in myself.” you let their manager know with a smile. he nodded, thanking you for the food for the millionth time before freeing up the hallway for you to go down. you bowed one last time before heading to the waiting room. as you turned the corner, you saw changbin coming from another direction .

“oh, hey y/n!” changbin waved, immediately grabbing the heavy bags out of your hands. “I just got out of the restroom, let’s head to the waiting room together.” he said, smiling. you nodded, thanking him for his help. you both chatted as you walked down the hallway, catching up on each other’s lives and listening to him explain how excited they were about upcoming plans for the group. you listened with a smile, making a note to bring it up to felix later when you got some time to talk to him in the waiting room. 

you made it to the door of their waiting room first, and noticed the door was left slightly ajar. you overheard a familiar voice, chan’s, addressing your boyfriend.

“so how are things with y/n?” you heard chan ask felix. “she should be coming with the food any time now. she’s so sweet.” you smiled at his compliment. you shushed changbin as he caught up with you; you needed to hear what felix would say.

“well...she’s clingy for sure.” he chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever dated someone who needed this much attention, hyung.”

 you were taken aback. is that what he thought of you? were you just some needy, clingy person pestering him for his attention all the time? you were a little embarrassed, but not nearly as much as you were hurt. you and felix both loved each other’s attention, you couldn’t believe he would say something like that. you gulped, grabbing changbin’s arm and heading backwards to the corner you had just turned.

“y/n, I’ll talk to him.” he said, distressed. you knew changbin, and you knew he would try to fix the situation like the good friend he was.

“no, you won’t. you’re going to tell him I was busy today and only had time to drop the food off. I’ll figure it out later, okay?” you said in a rush, wanting to get out of the building. the whole place suddenly felt suffocating, you couldn’t stand being there, somewhere you clearly weren’t wanted. you didn’t want felix to think you were any more needy than he already thought you were. your insecurities were slowly creeping in on you, and it was distressing.

changbin hesitated but finally relented when you promised you would talk to felix about it when he came home tonight. you practically ran out of the corridor, giving nothing more than a cursory bow and goodbye to the staff and manager, shabbily covering most of your face with your hand to hide that fact that you were on the verge of crying.

you got into your car and let yourself let go. the tears flowed freely, and you had no intention of stifling them. your relationship with felix was the closest thing to perfect you’d ever experienced. you adored how attentive he was to you---he never, not once, missed a birthday or anniversary. he was the first person to congratulate you when you passed your exams, and the first one to comfort you when you didn’t. there was never a moment when you were both home that he wasn’t following you around, trailing you even to the bathroom sometimes just so he wouldn’t be apart from you. you loved it and you thought he loved it, too. and the attention wasn’t one-sided, either---otherwise, you wouldn’t have even come here, arms overflowing with expensive food for practically everyone that interacted with him. 

you sighed, satisfied with the release of emotions, and wiped your eyes carelessly. you drove yourself home, not even bothering to listen to the radio or try to calm down from your rush of feelings. you got home, unlocking the door and plodding into your apartment, feet feeling weighed down by how heavy your mood had become. you chugged a whole glass of water; all that crying had made you thirsty---and exhausted. you slid your jacket off and onto the ground before plopping down right there on the couch, not even bothering to change or wipe your makeup off. you didn’t want to do anything except stop thinking about the words your boyfriend had said about you to his friend earlier. you drifted off to sleep just like that, with mascara tears and a broken heart.

seungmin

there were a lot of things that went unspoken between you and seungmin. that was one of the best parts about dating him---you could both show your love for each other in the way you were most comfortable with. for both of you, that happened to be doing things to make the other’s day a little easier. 

seungmin took the trash out early in the morning so you wouldn’t have to do the heavy lifting on your own. you made him his coffee before he left. you would order lunch to where he was, whether it be the company building or at the dorm with the boys, in advance so he wouldn’t have to bother with cooking anything. he would stop by during your lunch break at work with your coffee order and a small bite to eat in case you didn’t pack food that day. he has your favorite show ready to play as soon as you’ve washed up after work and you’re always ready to greet him with open arms after a long and tiring day at practice.

you both anticipated what the other needed, and that made you guys always in tune with each other. you’d never even had a serious fight, the worst one being a five-minute quarrel about seungmin buying the wrong shampoo on your grocery list, which was easily resolved by him driving to the store after work and exchanging it for the right one.

tonight, you knew seungmin would come home exhausted. he had practice from sunrise to sunset, with only a short break here and there to eat or use the bathroom. the choreographer for the comeback they were preparing for was one of the best, but she was known for being incredibly detail-oriented (which was, of course, what made her the best), and according to your friend and seungmin’s, hyunjin, she was especially keen on ironing out all the tiny mistakes seungmin was making. she was the reason your boyfriend was exhausting himself for endless hours and the reason he was going to come home tonight like a walking corpse.

you stuck a gatorade in the freezer to chill it quickly, knowing he would need the reminder to replenish himself. you warmed up the food on the stove, laid out his sleep clothes on the bed, and started cleaning up your home so the both of you could head to bed right after you both ate dinner and he showered.

you started putting your hair up and walking back to the living room after washing up yourself when you heard the jingling of keys outside of your front door. seungmin was home.

the door creaked open and seungmin came in, looking pale and drained of life. he didn’t greet you, which you didn’t blame him for---you knew he just wanted to get his rest as soon as possible.

“hey seung, rough day?” you asked gently, earning a passing grumble as he walked straight past you to the bathroom. you sighed, walking to the kitchen to fix him a plate and pulled out the gatorade so he could eat quickly. he could be as moody as he wanted, you weren’t about to let your boyfriend go to sleep without dinner, especially after the hours of choreography he had just gone through. 

the water droplets of the shower softly padded against the walls of your apartment for a couple of minutes before it was quickly shut off. seungmin stepped out right after, lazily drying his hair with a towel as he walked straight into the bedroom. you hummed, waiting for him to come back after changing into his sleep clothes. but a couple minutes soon became ten, which soon became fifteen. you got up from the sofa and walked into the bedroom, worried as to what was taking him so long. you found him lying in bed, scrolling through his phone.

“coming to bed?” he mumbled, not looking up from the screen.

“I made dinner and put out some gatorade for you, come eat.” you said, tugging his leg a little as a sign for him to get up.

“not hungry.” he sighed, turning a little in bed.

“come on, seung. I know you and you definitely skipped lunch to practice more. you need to eat well if you want to do your best tomorrow.” you told him firmly but gently so he knew you were serious.

“why are you so pushy, y/n,” he rolled his eyes, “you’re not my mom. I’ll eat whenever I want.”

you cringed a little at his rudeness but persisted. “seungmin, just eat something. and then we’ll go to bed, it’s not that hard. just do it for me?” you asked.

“oh my god, you are so pushy and clingy. please just leave me alone, you don’t need to always be on my ass.” he groaned, turning off his phone, and turning his face into the pillow.

you were bewildered. seungmin knew you were the type to look out for him; if anything, he should be sympathizing with you, considering he would’ve done the same for you after a rough day. his words felt like being slapped, the hurt fresh and confusing. you turned around and left the room.

“where are you going? can we please just sleep.” he whined.

“I’m sleeping on the couch, I do not want to be next to you right now.” you muttered, heading to the living room.

“seriously? dramatic much?” he groaned, “whatever, suit yourself.” he mumbled turning off the bedside lamp to sleep. you sighed, closing the door behind you.

you covered the food you had ready for seungmin before plopping down onto the couch. you pulled the living room throw blanket on top of you and tried to fall asleep. your legs were cramped together on the too-small couch and your neck was in an awkward position that you knew would hurt in the morning but all you could do was accept your fate and sigh. you shuffled a little, closing your eyes tightly. but with seungmin’s words still reeling in your mind, you knew there was no way you would be getting any sleep tonight.

jeongin

jeongin was your best friend as much as he was your boyfriend; teasing and poking fun at each other was a natural part of your relationship. it wasn’t uncommon for you to take light jabs at each other; you both knew not to take it too seriously---or to take it too far.

it was an unusually quiet evening at the dorms. a bunch of the guys had gone out for a drink and dinner, save for jeongin, who stayed back to spend time with you. you guys were sitting on the couch, stuffed to the brim with a bunch of takeout---you had gotten a promotion at work and jeongin was keen on celebrating. jeongin laid down in your lap with a whiny groan.

“remind me to never order food on an empty stomach ever again.” he mumbled into your lap, making you giggle.

“thank you for treating me, baby.” you hummed, running your fingers through his hair.

he shot up to look you in the eyes and smiled sweetly, pulling your face closer to his and kissing you gently.

“ew, jeongin!” you heard felix yell from the door.

“in the living room? our innie’s an adult!” lino laughed.

jeongin practically flew to the other side of the couch. neither one of you had heard the door unlock and open, nor had you seen all the members pile into the room.

“he has a way of surprising people,” you chuckled a little, patting him on the cheek, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, be right back.” you winked at him as the red on his cheeks only grew brighter from your teasing.

you headed to the bathroom at the end of the hallway, laughing to yourself thinking about the hell the members were probably giving jeongin right now. you quickly used the bathroom and cleaned up your appearance a bit before you headed back. you straightened out your clothes as you walked back. before you turned the corner, you heard jeongin’s voice loudly defending himself to the boys.

“and besides, y/n’s super clingy and needy for attention. she wouldn’t have left me alone until I gave her a damn kiss! leave me alone, you guys are the worst.” he huffed angrily.

“so you’re just going to make shit up about me and blame me for a kiss you initiated? what, so your friends won’t tease you a little? grow the fuck up.” you rolled your eyes, feeling the irritation start to make your skin burn.

he sat there silently, not even bothering to correct himself or apologize. the boys dispersed immediately, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire of your (albeit justified) explosive temper. you scoffed at his immaturity, turning for the door and angrily shoving your feet into your shoes and grabbing your coat off of its hanger.

“call me when you decide to stop acting like a dumb kid who can’t handle his friends seeing him act like a boyfriend to his girlfriend.” you spat. you slammed the front door behind you, still coming down from the adrenaline rush your confrontation with jeongin gave you. it hurt you; how could jeongin of all people make you into a needy, annoying girlfriend? all of that, for what? to save face in front of his friends? you sighed, deciding to just head home to your apartment and call it a night.

[p3ndeja6]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹🍒

bangchan x fem! reader

fluff

summary: you had a long day at work, dealing with cases and clients that it wore you down to the very last bit of energy you had left. you just wanted to go home and enjoy the company of your lovely boyfriend who usually stays home and works from his at home studio. just wanting to be in the comfort and love of bangchan

content: just cute fluff, comfort, hopeless romantic type shit. implied job (office worker, lawyer, social worker) shoutout lowkey to those who are or want to be that. but it can be literally anything you want it to be :3

a relatively short one, not proof-read (once again)

a/n:n ilovehimsomuch, mi mandilon (in a good way), been trying to keep writing and publishing but im just lazy. ill try to keep posting. maybe ill do a lil hispanic one for hispanic heritage month, viva la raza. ill probs go back to hiatus after this LMFAO

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

the hours were going by slow at work. today you had a ton of caseloads to work on before the following week. clients you had to meet throughout the day. barely had any time to check your phone or even let alone have lunch. it was like this most times but for some reason today felt heavier and draining.

it was almost time to clock out, and all you wanted to do is go home, relax and be in the embrace of your boyfriend. his arms and warm hugs could really bring you to life.

you packed all your things, your computer and the cases you didnt finish, and your purse. turning off the office light and shutting the door. saying goodbyes to everyone and giving weak smiles.

you were grateful that the warm evening had a nice breeze as you walked back to your shared apartment, really needing that walk and serenity.

walking back to the apartment, you get to the 15th floor and head towards your door, looking down at the slightly dirty 'welcome' sign that you found on sale at TJ Maxx.

grabbing your keys and starting to jingle the door knob. you finally unlocked the door and opening the door you see the slightly dim lit living room and connected kitchen. smelling like fabuloso. you smile to yourself knowing that chan cleaned around the house.

you put your bags down on the couch, and take off your flats that you had on. looking around, instinctively going over to his studio room, softly knocking on it and waiting a minute before opening it and smiling as you see that chan was facing towards his laptop, headphones on

you quietly and softly tap his shoulder, not trying to scare him. he jumps a little and turns around his chair, smiling instantly at the sight of you

he takes his headphones, and grabs your hands, looking up at you

"hi beautiful" he says. you smile at the compliment knowing you dont feel or look after the day you just had.

"hi handsome" you gently caressed his rough hands. he softly pulls you in his lap, holding you as you sat sideways from him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. holding your hips and legs closer to him.

"how was work?" he asked, while touching and soothing your legs.

you let out a sign and pinch the bridge of your nose, getting a headache just by thinking of work. "work was okay"

he quirks an eyebrow, sensing by your reaction to his question, that work was indeed not okay. rubbing you smoothly

"it doesn't look like it was just okay, cmon tell me, what happened at work that is making my beautiful upset" you couldnt help but smile at his words, naturally giving in (even though you were going to tell him) and telling him how work really was.

"work was... a lot tougher today. i just- i dont know, the caseload today was heavier and my clients today were too much. it was draining me really fast today" you let out

he looks at you with caring eyes, letting you continue ranting. not looking at him but still talking to him about work as he admires how beautiful and natural you looked on his lap complaining about work.

"i love my job, i really do but today just wasn't my day i guess"

he holds your face and makes you look at him, gently caressing your cheek. "it happens.. i know you love your job, and i also know that not everyday is going to be a good day... but that also means that you can just make the next day even better" he smiles, looking deeply into your eyes

you couldnt help but feel a rush of emotions and love for him, holding his face and admiring all of his features. you say to him an a quiet tone. "you always know what to say to me, dont you"

he cheeses and shyly looks away for a second before looking back at you. "im just telling you the truth" he runs his hands now down to your neck, holding you, almost in a possessive away, a caring possessive way.

you cant help but slowly lean into him, just wanting to feel his lips on your own. he knows what you are doing and just closes the gap between you both, melting into his lips, holding him. you stay there kissing until you finally had to pull away, making a popping smack sound from your lips as you pulled away, he looks at you with doe eyes.

"i dont know what i would do without you Christopher"

he smiles, holding your hands

"no need to think of that sweetheart, because you have me now, and im not going anywhere"

you stay there for a second and smile, finally speaking up again

"well enough about me.. what did you do today?" you smile getting off his lap, heading towards the kitchen

he follows you to the kitchen, close behind.

"well i dont know if you noticed but i had time and cleaned the house" he says so proudly. you turn to look at him, mid opening the fridge. looking around the room

"oh wow baby, you really did clean" you laugh a little and sniff the air "and you used the supplies i told you to use?" you say in almost shocked amused tone.

"yeah i did, just like you said, i cleaned the kitchen, the bathroom, and our room. i did that in less then 2 hours actually"

still in awe at his hard work and dedication to making the home nice and clean. you close the fridge and go up to him and hug him

he's surprised by the hug but nonetheless hugs you tighter back.

hugging him harder, not realizing that this is what you needed. melting like butter in his big strong arms. he realizes the severity of the hug and caresses and soothes your backside.

"i love you so much"

he smiles and pulls you back to look at you.

"you have no idea how much i love you, being with you brings me so much peace, i am utterly in love with you" he smiles

you almost felt like crying. you never had a real, loving relationship like the one you have with Chris. being with him makes every little wrong thing, alright.

he notices the glossy look in your eyes.

he leans slightly down, and kisses you, once again melting into your lips, moving your lips in sync with his. cupping his face, your fingers going in between his ears; holding him in place. not wanting to leave this exact moment with him.

you guys eventually pull away and just take in the view of each other

"cmon let me make you something to eat" he says, going towards the cabinets

you smile and appreciate his willingness to do such a sweet but meaningful act of service.

tiredly smiles and go over towards the counter and sit on the stool. waiting to see what he prepares you.

just watching him, cook for you, propping yourself on your elbows, holding your face with your hands.

after what felt like hours, he finally turned to you and placed the bowl of hot chicken noodle soup in front of you. havent realized he actually did cook you something

"oh baby i thought you'd just make me a sandwich with chips" you slightly laughed

he chuckled and shook his head, "honey, dont you get tired of eating that?"

you slightly frowned, "no"

he couldnt help but smile at your childish frown.

"well today have something different, i made it from scratch" he smileed

you couldnt help but smile warmly, you were hungry and could eat almost anything.

"okay then" you said as you grabbed the spoon and immediately starting digging in.

he smiles at your hungry attitude. you look up at him.

"arent you going to eat?" you say,

he goes to sit next you, just watching you eat. "i'll eat in a bit, gotta make sure you eat first" he smiles

you couldnt help it, this had to be the perfect evening. even though its a normal tuesday night at 7:37 pm.

you spent the entire evening talking and making plans for the weekend, eventually chan got up to serve himself a bowl of soup.

you had to get up for seconds to join him. enjoying the nice evening together.

you were just so glad to be living in this exact moment with him....

[plant-ago]

An Open Letter to Dan and Phil

Dear beloved nerds,

This was originally going to be an (even longer) actual letter that I was going to give to you at the tour, but my nonprofit-employed ass can’t afford a meet and greet, so we’re doing this instead. I promise it’s not just trauma dumping— mostly, it’s about saying thank you and trying to cultivate some hope for all of us.

I’ve been a big fan since around 2014, when I was a mentally ill neurotic deeply repressed loner egg (average phannie, let's be honest). Now I’m a whole adult who got therapy and HRT and has joined the legions of transmascs with the Dan Howell haircut! What a legacy.

I’m making jokes because the thing I actually want to talk about, and the reason I decided to make this an open letter, is kind of serious. But in light of the election, I feel like I need to share this, both with you and with all the other queers in this little corner of the internet.

Here’s the gist: I’m a paralegal at a non-profit organization that works to help queer migrants get asylum. Mostly what I do is sit them down in our nasty sterile office and try to be kind, and help them get through telling me all the most terrible things that have happened to them, and then turn around and pare it all down into legalese that is digestible to the government to make the case they should get asylum.

It’s a horrible job, really, and one that shouldn’t have to exist. Some parts are plainly wonderful, like meeting so many queer people from all walks of life. But it’s also heartrending and difficult, and burnout is always looming. My horrible banal work is often literally a matter of life and death for the client, and I’m fighting a broken system for a chance at giving them the happiness and safety is owed to them by international law and, really, by any decent human standard, should never have been in question.

The thing is—and this is reason to hope—queer people really do exist everywhere, no matter how much repression and violence we face. In a tiny village in Colombia, there's a kid who’s all spit and vinegar, dresses like a boy and plays football and fights anyone who says that they can’t, who grows up wiry and gets black eyes because men still can’t handle getting their asses handed to them on the soccer field by a dyke. This client texts me at my work number sometimes to ask if I’ve eaten that day, because they wanted to check in on me. He asked me to call him by a boy’s name, recently. I don’t know that he’s told anyone else. I open every message I send him with "Hola, James."

Then there’s the sweet, babyfaced college freshman who got death threats when he was outed to his classmates back home, and whose parents kicked him out when he refused to marry a girl to protect the family's reputation, leaving him alone in a foreign country. He was couch surfing and just trying not to miss class so he could keep his student status and he was so conscientious I wanted to cry— he’s eighteen, guys. Eighteen. I’ll get him his papers or so help me fucking God I will kill for him. You know? You know. After that meeting I had to sit at my desk with my notebook and fill an entire blank page with the phrase “he’s just a kid,” over and over again, until I felt like I could breathe.

On a Friday morning recently I get up and open my laptop to interpret on a call with a soft-spoken older trans woman who's sat in the bleak phone room of the ICE detention facility because her immigration judge didn’t believe that she was really transgender. “An odor of mendacity pervades everything the respondent says,” the judge wrote in her ruling, where she determined the client wasn't "credible." To this day I’m still floored that she straight up ripped off Tennessee Williams—new frontiers in bigotry, truly. She didn’t even cite. In our meeting now, the client quietly tells us how hard it was when she came out but how happy she was the first time she wore makeup, and she'd rather stay in detention here for indeterminate years as proceedings spiral on than go back to Guatemala, where they'll kill her—boys, if I ever get within spitting distance of this fuckass judge, it is on SIGHT. Absolutely fucking ON SIGHT. For legal purposes, that was a JOKE.

So I finish the call and get up to get a snack. It’s only ten am but feel tired already because I’m angry, which is not unusual but also not something I want to hold onto, because it doesn't help anything. So I make some toast and look at my phone— two texts, which I ignore, a spam email, and, wouldn't you know it, a YouTube notification from Dan and Phil games! Jarring! That’s just sort of how life is though, isn’t it? Deathly serious and lighthearted in the same breath.

But regardless, seeing the notification makes me feel warm, so I have my toast and watch a little video of you two playing Roblox or dress up or whatever it is you do on that channel these days. I have a good giggle and I finish my toast and go back to my desk. It’s a crucial part of my diet really— the giggles, not the toast. I’m not angry anymore. I’ll be angry again, but for now my cortisol levels are manageable and I can put my head back into emails or whatever the fuck. Do you ever think about how plants make food for free out of sunlight but we sit around writing emails all day? And that’s if we’re lucky. Capitalism is hell.

Anyway, there is a point I am trying to make, and it’s not really about the banal horrors of neoliberal nation-state or capitalism or even homophobia. It’s to say thank you for coming back to make silly videos together, because I love them, and you never fail to make me happy. And yeah, maybe something about the story of that scared eighteen-year-old kid at the front of my mind makes it particularly sweet to watch you two goofing off and being openly queer. It reminds me why I’m doing what I’m doing, and it gives me the strength to send another fucking email because sometimes doing “important work that I value and believe in deeply” means having to send another fucking email. And sometimes I’ll rewatch your older videos, and then come back to the more recent ones, and my heart bruises, because you remind me what I’m fighting for and why. It’s nothing grandiose, it’s just— for queer people to get to have the ability to grow into themselves and be outrageous and silly and make mistakes and to love and be loved for who they are. To have the safety and support and security that no one should ever go without. That’s all.

So I am being dead serious when I say thank you for making top-tier light entertainment, and for coming back to a job that wasn’t always kind to you, and that it does actually matter. All this talk about terrible influences and legacies has made me think that sometimes you doubt whether you do good in the world, so let me be clear: you really, really do. I kind of get the sense that in order to accept sincerity Dan needs to be beat over the head with it, so if that’s the case, consider yourself coerced, you dickhead. You matter to me, and especially in times like these, I think I speak for all of us when I say that the joy you share is a precious and treasured gift. So please accept my gratitude in return.

All my love,

Jules

(I removed or changed all identifying information in this letter to protect privacy, but the stories are real).

[patchiko]

Ur writing makes me emotional im literally writhing on the floor jason let me take care of u bbg 😭 can u write smth ab him letting his s/o take care of him after a rough patrol? Can be sfw or nsfw

HEHEHEHE THANK YOU ANON!! I GOTT YOUUU

im so proud of this it took long but im literally writing this at 3:49 AM bc of the idea that popped up in my half asleep brain

Taking care of ak!Jason Todd after patrol!! (SFW FLUFFY FIC)

Night after night, Jason Todd would come home to you. Sometimes bloodied and bruised, sometimes frustrated and annoyed, sometimes his feet were dragging and his whole body ached. Tonight he slipped through your apartment window, smooth jazz played so lightly it took him a second to register it. A light in the dining room was on. He could’ve just showered to let the running water tell you he was home, and be greeted with your presence when he came out. But, tonight his eyelids were heavy and his body felt empty. Like a lost ghost, he longed for something that gave him a peace to rest his lamenting spirit. Jason wandered to you, it was second nature at times, he found you sitting at the dinner table working on your laptop.

Your gaze flicked upwards, the red of his helmet catching your eyes. “Welcome back!” You said warmly. Almost in an instant his body felt full, heavy, like he was about to melt into a puddle right then and there.

“Hey.” The helmets voice scrambler hid Jason’s mellowed tone. Slightly frowning underneath it because of its harsh manner, he promptly took it off. After sliding the cold metal off his head, his eyes met yours. You were smiling tenderly at him. Jason drifted toward you, when he got close he felt like his whole body would’ve dropped to your feet and he could in a dormant rest for centuries. As long as you stayed there of course. Hardly noticed how close he stood over you until he felt himself moving down to kiss your cheek. Jason stopped himself, “Can I?” he whispered to you feebly. You nodded to him with that warm smile he longed for desperately. Jason pressed his cold lips to your cheekbone, the sensation of your skin soothed that longing feeling. He pressed another one firmly, helplessly trying to quarrels his yearning soul. Jason caught himself, skin flushed as he dragged himself away.

A sigh escaped his lips and he started turning away,” Would you like one too?” He fixated himself back on you, you were still looking at him lovingly, your finger pressed against your lips, waiting for his response.

Wordlessly he bowed his head back toward you, turning his head for you to kiss his unbranded cheek. Jason wasn’t ready for you to touch that side of him so directly. He didn’t want you to meet the oily black hate, the only other thing that touched his heart, his longing, his ache as comfortingly as you did. The discomfort seeped from him when he felt your plush lips meet his skin, it wasn’t quick, not too long either. In Jason’s mind it was perfection, it made that tar that stuck in his veins seem like a pathetic substitute. It made his breath heavy, all but burdened with a swollen heart. It made him feel untouchable, not in his brutal norm but in a heavenly stillness. It made him scared. That you could take care of him, not just when his body bled but when you filled something enigmatically empty inside him. Something that he could only fill with that hate that he clutched onto like a boy to his mother.

Jason lugged himself away from you. He wasn’t sure what would hurt him more and he wasn’t ready to find out. He sat across from you pressing his callous palms against his face.

“Bad night?”

“Mhm. Something like that.”

“Need anything?” He already got it.

“No.”

He would be lying if he were to say he wouldn’t wish to a star like a child, asking for your ease indefinitely.

i love him☹️

[harlotofupdog]

This was meant to be a groveling apology post but it turned into a rage meta post.

I have so many fics that I want to read or finish reading from writers whose work I truly adore, and so much art that I want to stare at and squeal about, and I just haven't got to it. There are fics that I am so in love with and I just… I can't open AO3 until I can just sit, y'know?

I know that literally no-one is counting on me for this stuff because I am a tiny wonker, but I feel perpetually awful about it nonetheless. I also have a bunch of fic stuff (writing and beta) that I never get to, and I'm now at the point where I'm so overwhelmed by all the things I need to do that I'm paralysed by procrastination. There's probably a few topsy-turvy chonkadonks of recent news that haven't helped, but the main thing is…

FUCKING HOTEL ROOMS.

I spend so much time in hotel rooms. I used to love hotel rooms. It felt like a little treat every time I stayed in a nice one. Bright white sheets, little sachets of tea and shitty instant coffee, minibars, dressing gowns, inconvenient power outlets, unflattering mirrors - I loved it all. But now I fucking dread them. They are my ultimate (bad) liminal spaces - just fancy transit points between the airport or the train station or the closest fucking McDonald's where I can eat a zillion nuggets until I feel better.

I've tried to be productive in hotel rooms, I really have. I bring my laptop, I bring my sketchpad. Sometimes I have a couple of free hours in the evening, and god, why don't I use them? Instead, I sit and think and scroll while I drink all the shitty tea and shitty coffee and sometimes an entire bottle of red or whatever tiny booze they have in the minibar.

It occurs to me, after 6000 years of fucking hotel rooms, that they are… Heaven. They are, right? Crisp, light, bright, stifling. There's the concierge in their nice suit, the fancy faux marble foyer, elevators that sneak up from behind and then DING as if you're the arsehole for facing the other way, mirrors fucking EVERYWHERE jump-scaring you with your own face, the end of the toilet paper folded into a little triangle... (whose bum needs that? A tiny triangle before the rest of the paper? No-one's bum needs that!)

And Heaven is always watching, isn't it?

The binful of teabags, the crumpled up packets of crisps-for-dinner, the empty bottle of wine - they will all be SEEN, along with the sanitary bag and the snotty tissues and the laddered stockings that I've wrenched off in a rage because now I have to go buy more. (WHY DID HOTELS GET RID OF BIN BAGS?)

We haven't even made it to the mortifying ordeal of ordering room service as a solo business traveler. I order the club sandwich, because that is the first thing you should order in a hotel, always - this is a rule. I eat it, it's fine. Club sandwiches have probably hauled me back from the edge of madness/chicken nuggets at least four times now. The next night, though, I don't want a club sandwich. I want something else.

A pizza.

There is no option to order a half pizza, and if I order a whole pizza, I will eat the whole pizza. So I order a whole pizza, obviously. I eat the pizza, because of course I do - it's not great, but it's kinda okay and it's something to do because I can't do any of the other things like live or breathe or exist in regular human form.

But when the pizza is gone, I look at the empty tray sitting on the slimy glass-topped desk and the realisation hits: they will know I know they know that I sat on my pristine bed, shoving melted cheese and prosciutto into my mouth, probably in full view of some late night meeting in the next building over, while staring at a wall and fervently wishing I were elsewhere.

There is probably sauce on the sheets and a bit of rocket on the floor that I can't find, and the TV remote is greasy af. It's basically a murder scene and I will feel guilty for the next millennia and a bit.

In conclusion...

Heaven is a panopticon and so is the Hilton. But Azi showed up for it, and so will I. Hopefully we can all make it back to the comfy, dusty book-filled spaces for good one day.

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 29 “Ripped Ripper” [Episode List] Dave’s gym is closed due to maintenance so he decides to do some working out at home. Lazy Tim doesn’t want to join him, but Dave knows how to make things more… interesting for his kinky bro.

POV: Tim

Ripped Ripper

Another lazy Sunday evening, a great reward after a busy week like the one both me and my friend/roommate Dave just had. I was in my bedroom minding my own business, reading stuff on my laptop, listening to some music: perfect pre-Monday night for a guy like me, now 30, too tired at the idea of doing something that demands a bit more commitment than, well, this. I even closed the window shutters this morning so the Sun couldn’t bother me with its very inappropriate life-bringing light.

Luckily, Dave is a fellow lazy man, so I know I have a good roommate when it comes to just chilling in silence, without even interacting, after a long week. I’ll ask if he wants pizza though, least I can do for not, well, not making up any plans for tonight.

“Babe, come here!”

Speak of the Devil.

I heard my bro from his room, next to my own. I know him, he probably didn’t even need me for anything important, as his voice had that tone he uses to mess with me (and our other buds) like the idiot prankster he sometimes can be.

“Here I come.” I replied, very maturely putting a lot of emphasis on that last word.

I… took my time to actually go on check on him, ‘cause I liked the song I was listening to. Once it was over, I managed to get up, almost tripping on my own sweatpants and slippers somehow.

I walked to his room, knocked a couple of times on the door, which was open, and looked at him with the most bored expression I could muster. 

“You rang?” 

Faint rock music was coming out of Dave’s smartphone on a desk while he was sitting on his bed. He was wearing a blue t-shirt, a pair of grey basketball shorts, and sneakers.

“Not interested.” I then said, walking back to my room.

I heard Dave laugh and then his own footsteps right behind me. He grabbed my left arm and pulled me back to his room. I didn’t fight back ‘cause I know I couldn’t; not because of Dave being strong or anything but because I knew he won’t leave me alone the whole evening.

“Not gonna let you dump me for the fourth time this week.” he said.

“I said I’m not interested.” I replied.

He let me go, sat again on his bed and looked up to me.

“No, you said you wanted to exercise.”

“…eventually!”

“You didn’t say ‘eventually’, you said ’next week’.” He got up and patted my shoulder. “Come on, give it a shot.”

I sighed, defeated, but I still wanted to slip my way out of that situation in a way or another.

“I already tried the gym with you once and I got bored pretty quickly.”

“Oh shut up, you stopped showing up because you were too busy crushing on that hot guy, so much so you got too afraid to work in with him.”

I looked at him with a puzzled look, pretending to have no idea of what was he talking about.

“Also I’m way hotter than him and I’m very offended by your poor taste.” he joked.

I rolled my eyes in response, even though, yeah, I do think Dave is quite hot, regardless of my kink obviously.

“Look.” I said. “I just don’t feel like it today, I hav-“

“I have to work tomorrow” he completed my sentence, also doing a very poor imitation of my voice. “So do I, man. It’s not even 4:00 PM. The Sun’s still up. Do you even look outside of your window sometimes?”

I literally shook my head in disbelief.

“Wait, what?”

I sincerely thought it was, like, almost dinner time. Maybe Dave’s got a point, after all.

“…maybe you’re right.”

I noticed a small exercise mat on the floor by Dave’s bed; I simply sat there, waiting for my friend’s instruction.

“Alright, lead me to a healthy life of wellness where I don’t trip on my own slippers.”

“Well you’re in the wrong place!” Dave excitedly said, in a bit of self-irony since he’s not super fit himself, but he’s better than me at this no doubt.

The room was big enough so the two of us could lie on the floor. He pretty much lied on his back next to me as a way to “guide” me through the first exercise, one I was actually familiar with: crunches.

“Should I do some warm-up first?” I asked.

“Yeah, you should have, but since you’re right here just… give it a shot. It’s not like you’re gonna die.” He placed his hands on the back of his own head, starting the exercise. “…I think.”

Even though the fact that I’m into farts and that my friend right here constantly blasts me should be the most embarrassing thing about myself, my performance during this first, relatively easy exercise was definitely more painful to watch: I couldn’t even finish a set (around 20 crunches), while Dave was humiliating me. I struggled so much and felt pain in my chest for some reason; I was already sweating and panting.

Not even 5 minutes in and I already wanted to quit.

“Yeah.” I managed to say, lying on my back, as my bro kept crunchin’. “Not my cup of tea.”

“The hardest part is getting started.” he commented.

“Wow. Thanks Master.” I replied, sarcastically.

He stopped mid-crunch, and turned to me, looking me at funny.

“Tim, blasting you with my farts doesn’t make me your Master.” he said, with a mocking tone.

I instantly sat back up as if I woke up from a nightmare. 

“What the fuck.” I turned to him, as he resumed doing his crunches. “Where did that come from?!”

“It’s fine bro.” he kept teasing me. “You can keep calling me ‘Dave’ if that’s fine for you.” he laughed.

Hearing my straight friend just casually making references to my fart kink, let alone the fact that he constantly face-farts me, will always be wild to me, like a fever dream. And also insanely hot, dammit.

“Is this because I suck at doing crunches?” I asked, not very politely.

“No, it’s because you’re already giving up.” 

“It’s just…” I sighed. “That’s just my thing bro, sorry. But thanks for trying to help, really.”

I lied on my back again, defeated, as Dave kept exercising. I could sense my friend looking at me, probably with his usual smirk, completely unfazed by me moping around, exhausted.

“Well… maybe I can do something to make things a bit more interesting for your lazy ass.” I heard him say, finally breaking the silence.

A silence that soon became a distant memory as the sound of Dave’s sudden, loud fart shook the entire room, easily surpassing the faint rock music coming from his phone. I’m used to my bro’s blasts and trust me, they are almost always loud, but this one felt even stronger somehow. It was also, but that goes without saying, long, like 9 seconds long. 

As ridiculous as I may sound… I had to see it. 

I sat back up one more time so I could get a good view and I saw Dave still lying on his back, one leg up to ease the blast out. How the grey fabric of his basketball shorts could endure that stream of gas is a mystery to me. His eyes were closed: he had the facial expression of someone surprisingly struggling to keep that blast going, a sign that he was holding that gas in for a while, which is unusual ‘cause my friend usually can rip monstrously long and loud blast with relative low effort.

Whether the case… that was a very hot sight, the tent I pitched in my sweatpants being the undeniable proof.

As the fart kept going, Dave lifted his left leg even more, as if there was a recoil, making it even louder.

The fart lasted around 14 seconds and my friend let out a quick sigh of relief as he ripped one last toot out. That sounded (and looked) more exhausting than me trying to do crunches.

The teasing bastard winked at me, ‘cause he knows how to press all the right buttons of my fetish.

“You know what I’m capable of…” he said. “Now imagine my skills, like, powered up by protein shakes.” he laughed and let another loud, but shorter (around 3 seconds) toot out to prove it, not that he needed to, as his farting skills are always jaw-dropping.

Still, he’s a teasing bastard.

The scent of his ass polluting the room reached my nose and I coughed a bit for how rancid that was.

“Are you seriously… bribing me with farts?” that’s a sentence I just said, fuck my life.

“Maybe.” another quick toot followed. “Is it working?”

“I’m going to punch you.” 

“Can’t finish a set of crunches and he wants to punch me.” he laughed. “Pissing you off is so easy bro.”

“I’m not pissed off.” I wanted to clarify. “You… you’re just making me hard.”

Even though Dave knows about my kink and fully accepted me, I still have a hard time letting him know that his farting skills (and teasing, nonetheless) never fail to give me a massive boner.

Dave looked at me funny, faking a serious expression. Then let out another loud rip in response, around 4 seconds long. Why do I even worry…

“Of course.” I simply said, too embarrassed to even look at him though.

As usual, he didn’t care, and only found my awkwardness hilarious. Disgustingly hilarious.

“It’s fine… at least you tried.” he then said. “We’ll give it another shot tomorrow.” 

I turned to him, appreciating the encouraging words.

“Still.” he said, adjusting his position. “I’m still gonna need a spotter to count those.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, without thinking. “I can do that.”

He let out an evil cackle in response, with that smug, hot smirk drawn on his face.

“So, what are we counting? Pushups? Crunches? Stars?”

I remained seated on the floor as Dave stood up, easily towering over me. He looked down to me and I, silly me, realised too late where this was going, even though I should have known.

“Who said anything about pushups and crunches?”

My gassy friend turned around and, simply put, sat full weight on my head as if it was a stool, his very gentle way to force me to lie down, with yet another loud toot thrown into the mix for good measure, one that I could properly smell this time.

The protein shakes are a powerful fuel and the scent reminded me of rotten eggs, which made me cough again as I lied down, letting my bro’s ass crush me.

However, that didn’t happen, not as violently as I expected at least. Dave’s ass was actually hovering only inches from my face; he could easily simply sit on me and let his ass roar but for some reason he didn’t.

“One.” I heard Dave say.

A fart quickly followed, loud, high pitched and wet-ish. I had to close my eyes as I literally felt the rancid gas erupting on my face, the thin grey fabric of Dave’s basketball shorts being the only thing separating me from his raging anus.

After a couple of seconds, the fart ended, and my bro got back up, but he wasn’t done at all. He let me took some breaths of (relatively) fresh air, only to bend his knees again mere moments later.

He was squatting over my face, basically, his ass barely tickling the tip of my nose.

“Two.”

Yet another impressive fart, the stench adding up to what was left of the previous one. Things were already getting too exhausting even for my trained nostrils: this is why I should never leave my room again.

But as much as I could “hate” what was happening, as Dave’s ass roared all over my face, my boner only got harder. My bro is not the hottest man in the world but he is quite hot and having a guy like him blasting me so effortlessly, no strings attached, will never cease to amaze me. 

I was definitely enjoying the sound more than the smell however, which made me feel like I was drowning in a sewer.

“What the fuck did you put in that protein shake, man?!”

I managed to ask, my voice being almost nothing compared to the loudness of the fart Dave was still ripping all over me. However, he did hear me, as his ass “bounced” a bit over my nose, a sign that he was laughing like the jerk bully he sometimes can be.

After a total of 12 seconds I was greeted with newfound silence and my bro got up, but before I could do or say anything or, you know, breathe, he squatted again.

“Three.”

Another loud rip, this time shorter, about 4 seconds, but still extremely dangerous stench-wise. Also, those were getting wetter and wetter. The sweat dampening Dave’s asscrack through his grey shorts didn’t help at all and only made the fart wetter and the stench stronger.

My bro’s ass went silent and I quickly asked a simple question.

“How many squats are you planning to do exactly?”

Dave laughed in response, as usual. “You tell me, it’s leg day.”

The second part of his answer was him squatting again on my face, this time making sure to crush my skull. He then made sure to shove down my throat and nostrils another powerful, protein shake-powered blast.

A wet one, a fully wet one, but Dave was a pro, so I knew it was just very nasty gas. Still, a good challenge to test the limits of my already disgusting kink. The blast was so powerful it made droplets of sweat from his ass rain all over my face: whether Dave was sweating because of the squats or the endeavor of pushing such big farts out I shall never know.

What I did know, is that after 9 seconds, Dave got up again, and at this point I couldn’t even remember what pure oxygen tasted like as not only my face, but the entire room was now basically engulfed with gas.

Dave instead, towering over me, proudly took a deep breath, showing off his muscles (which wasn’t a lot, but he definitely looked ripped when compared to me) and then stared down at his victim.

“And you wanted to quit.” he stated.

I couldn’t even come up with a proper comeback because his ass was already in my mouth, hastily erupting yet another fart, one I could actually taste.

He kept squatting on my face, repeatedly, each time ripping a fart, a loud wet rip, each time sweating more and more. My friend was wearing a pair of grey basketballs shorts but all of that sweat made his asscrack completely visible, basically proving he went commando for some reason, which also meant that there was basically nothing between me and the sheer force of Dave’s anus.

My bro farted so many times in my face over the last months I couldn’t even count it, but things rarely got this… filthy.

I got my face soaked wet in sweat which wasn’t even mine, but rather from Dave’s ass, fart-scented and fart-flavoured sweat; kink or not, my limits were being tested here.

And apparently, Dave’s job is completely ignoring such limits.

For his 20th and final squat, he just completely sat on my face, spreading his legs wide, so my nose could easily fit in his sweaty, ripe asscrack. He wiggled his ass as if he was wiping the sweat off of it using my face, and then I felt him push.

Bubbles, that’s how I can describe it. That display of flatulence was as wet and disgusting as you imagine, a mix of gas and sweat engulfing my nose and nostrils, making my entire head shake, so rancid I could smell it without even breathing in. 

The fart was so thick I could taste it and my eyes were burning for all that gas.

I feared that Dave’s limit were also being tested here, given how wet that fart was; but no, it was just terrible, terrible air coming out from his sweaty ass.

After almost 20 seconds of torture, I was done.

The sewer comparison I made before was now in full effect: truth to be told, I couldn’t take it anymore, I was drowning, suffocating, and I wanted to get out of there, I needed air, like actual air, oxygen.

Mustering all the strength I have in what passes for “muscles” in my arms, I managed, not without struggle, to actually push Dave’s roaring ass away from my face, which actually surprised him as he tripped over.

I coughed my way to freedom and took deep long breaths. The air in the room was still filthy but it felt like pure fresh air compared to the source, the depths of my friend’s ass who, in the meantime, actually stopped farting. I remained there, lying down, wondering how I could even survive those blasts.

Despite being disgusted, pre-cum leaked from the tip of my hard cock, so I guess this wasn’t beyond my limits after all. 

As I kept trying to clean my nostrils by taking more deep breaths, I heard Dave, lying next to me just like before, slow clapping, as if he was some kind of villain of a heist movie being (falsely) impressed by the heroes.

I scolded him with an annoyed glare. “What the fuck are you doing now?”

“Not bad for a first day, huh?” he simply said, with a smirk. “You managed to lift me, that’s impressive.”

“Those were my survival instincts kicking in.” I remarked.

I lied down, exhausted, staring at the ceiling, Dave doing the same. I could once again hear the faint rock music coming from his phone on the desk: good, I was afraid today’s ass-thunders made me deaf.

“I wanna try again tomorrow.” I admitted. “No farts though.” I quickly added.

He laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

We remained silent for a few moments, as I tried to ignore the massive boner I still had.

“Look at us.” Dave said. “Covered in sweat, panting. It’s like we just had sex.” he joked.

“You wish.” I replied.

A few more moments of silence, a silence that Dave broke one last time by doing a deft leg-lift to rip a quick, loud, wet toot.

“Told ya it’s leg day.”

The End

[drvmekoo]

regroup | jeon jungkook [prologue]

summary: drifting away from your best friend is never an easy thing to deal with. it's a good thing a very important project is forcing you both to regroup.

➳ pairing: jungkook x reader (f)

➳ genre: college au, fluff, angst, smut (eventually)

➳ rating: 18+

➳ warnings: there's no smut in the first part (sorry!) but there will be so beware! just a mention of s*x in this!

➳ wc: 0.9k

➳ author's notes: so this is my new fic! i have no idea how many parts this will have but i swear i will try and update as soon as possible! i hope you enjoy!

PART ONE | PART TWO

“There you are! I was starting to think you weren’t gonna show up!”

You greeted Namjoon as he sat beside you, plonking his textbooks on the desk in front. The lecture hall was starting to fill as the time drew closer to the hour. 

“Please don’t start, I feel like I got no sleep whatsoever last night.” He rubbed his eyes “Jimin and his stupid friends decided to throw a party on the floor above and I swear I heard like four couples have VERY rough sex by the constant rhythmic thudding.”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling “What were they even celebrating? It’s literally the middle of the semester? Exams haven’t taken place, right?....right?” 

It was Namjoon’s turn to laugh as you panicked, digging through your diary and frantically flipping through the pages for any missed dates. 

“Relax, they were probably celebrating not getting caught skipping all their classes or something.

You both burst into fits of laughter, people turning towards you as you pushed Namjoon away comedically. Wiping your tears, both of you calmed down as the lecturer walked in and started to step up at the front of the hall. As you got your laptop out, the booming voice of the professor travelled across the room 

“Everyone, please take your seats! Let’s get started! Today is a very important day!”

The room quietened down and people seemed to settle in their seats at this command. 

“Now as you know, you all have a very big project coming up, weighing over 60% of your overall grade.” The lecturer started “Of course, one of the key skills this course observes is collaborative work. Which is why-”

The bang of the door abruptly interrupted his big announcement, as a tattooed figure rushed in.  “Sorry, sir…I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He smirked as many beading eyes stared at him while he climbed the ascending stairs to an empty seat.

“Jeon Jungkook.” The professor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why am I not surprised? 

Jungkook leaned back in his chair and shrugged his shoulders, not evening bothering to get even a pen from his bag. 

The lecturer cleared his throat “Just…please don’t interrupt me again.” 

“You got it, boss.” Jungkook winked cockily.

Namjoon leaned over to you, both observing the encounter like the rest of the hall, and whispered  “What an ass.”

You didn’t reply. Knowing Jungkook for a big part of your life, it saddened you that he had adopted this new, arrogant persona since starting college. You had once known Jungkook as this shy, kind and respectful guy, your best friend who would visit your house every day. Both of your parents thought it was a great idea that both of you were attending the same university.

How wrong they were. 

Something switched between you two in the summer before college. Jungkook stopped coming over, stopped answering your texts. He barely spoke to you even when your families met together. On the day of moving into the dorms, you both planned to celebrate by going out to dinner but instead, he ditched, texting you a simple ‘i’m a little busy. maybe another time?’

No emoji or anything. 

And from that day, you guys haven’t spoken at all. Not one word. 

It seemed like the Jungkook you once knew and loved had gone. 

“Anyways.” The professor continued “As I was saying, this project will very much focus on a joint effort between two students. Which is why each of you will be paired with another in this room. You both will have 3 weeks to complete and submit this project.” A murmur echoed across the room as he continued “Details of this assignment will be posted later today on the student forum and your partners will be emailed to you tomorrow at 8 am.”

The lecturer carried on talking for 20 more minutes, running over the exceptions for the project as well as answering any questions some students hay had before dismissing everyone. 

Namjoon turned to you as everyone packed up and filed out. “Imagine if we got each other? That would be such an easy A for us both huh?”

“That would be so lucky, ugh fingers crossed!” you replied, putting away your laptop and diary. “Hey, I’m kinda hungry. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

He smirked shaking a phone in your face  “Already ordered the chicken nuggets!”

- 

[8:03 am] joooon: HAVE YOU CHECKED YOUR PARTNER YET? THEY JUST CAME IN

[8:05 am] joooon: I got jin which is cool! he’s really smart!

[8:08 am] joooon: hello? who did you get??

Namjoon's text alerts felt so far away as you stared at your computer screen. This couldn’t be happening to you. Why you of all people? Just why?

Hi Y/n, 

You have been paired with Jeon Jungkook for this assignment. 

Remember, this is 60% of your grade! So work hard!

You weren’t a violent person usually but you’ve never wanted to punch your computer screen more than at this moment. How did they expect you to work with someone who hasn’t even so much as looked at you since the summer?

You were fucked. Royally fucked. 

Another chime sounded from your phone. You sighed, deciding it was time to text Namjoon back and tell him the bad news. 

But instead, you were met with something else. 

[8:11 am] Maybe: jungkoo: So, when do we start?

read part one here!

taglist:

@swga-ficrecs

please like and reblog to support the fic!

if you wanna be on the taglist for this fic, please let me know!

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

Literally anything dom!renjun im so deprived of content of him i miss him sm 😔🫶

My first request! I hope you enjoy it, this was fun to write.

Unprotected sex, rated 18+, mature, MDNI 

SoftDom! Renjun x Reader (M)

While Renjun's kindness and caring nature made him an ideal boyfriend, there were moments when his overly sweet demeanor felt a bit too good to be true, leaving you to wonder if he was hiding his own feelings or frustrations beneath that perfect facade. You appreciated his thoughtfulness, yet it made you question whether he truly expressed his authentic self or if he felt the need to always please you. 

It became increasingly clear that Renjun was struggling with his emotions, as his tired sighs and the heavy thud of his bag told a different story from the warmth he greeted you with upon returning home. While those affectionate gestures made your heart swell, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was a deeper layer of frustration he was masking, leading you to wonder if he felt he had to put on a brave face for your sake instead of sharing his true feelings. This contrast between his internal struggles and his outward sweetness left you yearning to understand the person he was underneath the smiles, hoping to encourage him to open up about what was really troubling him.

You loved Renjun; you didn’t just seek out his smiles and cheerfulness—you craved the frowns and frustrations, too. You wanted him to be open with you, to share what was bothering him instead of hiding behind a cheerful façade. That night, as he sat beside you on the couch, you decided to gently ask how he was feeling, hoping to encourage him to share whatever was on his mind. You wanted him to know he could be honest with you always.

"Babe? How are you feeling?" you ask, noticing a rare flicker of irritation cross his face as he scans through an email. His brows furrow slightly, and for a moment, you sense the weight of his thoughts. The cheerful mask he usually wears seems to slip just a bit

"It's just work," he replies, his voice uncharacteristically flat. A flicker of hope ignites in you; maybe today you'll get a glimpse beneath his mask. It frustrates you that sometimes it feels like there are still pieces of him locked away, and you yearn to know everything about your boyfriend.

“You know I’m always here if you need to vent," you say gently, hoping he'll let you in on what’s really bothering him. He offers you a small smile but soon returns to his work, and you hesitate, feeling a pang of guilt for interrupting. Maybe now isn't the right time to press him about opening up, especially since he usually excels at communication. You don't want him to feel like he's doing something wrong, yet the urge to delve deeper into his thoughts tugs at you, leaving you restless with a desire to understand the layers of his world.

You sat across from Renjun in the living room, the warm light from the floor lamp casting soft shadows on his face. You could see the tension in his tightened jaw and the way his fingers drummed nervously on his mousepad. "Renjun," you began gently, "I know you’re feeling frustrated. Can you tell me what’s bothering you instead of keeping it inside?" 

“It's really nothing; I don't want to bother you,” he says, smiling tight. 

"Renjun, your not being honest. Why can't you just tell me” you push

“Why can't you drop it” he says back with an attitude you haven't heard before.

“Whatevers wrong, its ok!”

“Stop saying it's ok! Nothing is ok right now!” He looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes before they narrowed in contemplation. After a moment, he exhaled sharply, pushing his laptop off of his lap. "You want to see frustration?" he said, his voice rising. “Fine! I’m overwhelmed with work, and I feel like I’m drowning while everyone expects me to swim!” He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration spilling out as he got up off the couch to pace the small space. You watched him, your heart aching at his outburst but grateful he was finally letting you in. "I just hate feeling like this sometimes," he admitted, his voice softer now as he turned back to you. You nodded, reaching out to take his hand, offering the comfort he hadn’t realized he needed.

As you ran a soothing hand down Renjun's back, you could feel the tension slowly begin to dissipate. You cupped his cheek with your other hand, your thumb gently brushing over his skin. "I’m here. I’ll always be here," you reassured him, your voice soft and unwavering. "No matter how angry, frustrated, or irritated you get, I could never hate you. It's okay to feel like this, and it’s okay to let it out." Renjun nodded slowly, his breath shaky as he let your words sink in. A heavy sigh escaped him as the tension in his shoulders eased just a bit. He leaned into your touch, grateful for your warmth and understanding. 

He turned to kiss your palm softly, the warmth of his lips igniting a flutter in your chest, and then a beat later, he pressed a gentle kiss to your wrist. Grateful for your nightgown, you felt the heat of his kisses as they traveled from your wrist up your arm, each touch igniting a feverish anticipation in your skin. You shivered slightly when his lips brushed your shoulder, lingering just long enough to draw a soft gasp from you—an exquisite blend of pleasure and longing. He paused for a moment, his breath hot against your skin, and looked into your eyes, a mischief twinkling in his gaze, before resuming his exploration. With every kiss and every gentle nibble, he sent shockwaves of warmth coursing through you, pulling you deeper into the intoxicating current of the moment. Your heart raced as his hands whispered down the curve of your waist, drawing you closer—a magnetic pull that felt both thrilling and profoundly intimate.

Soon, you were stumbling toward your bedroom, the air thick with electricity and unspoken longing. You weren't sure how it had escalated so quickly, but you weren't about to complain. His kisses grew heavier and more desperate, each brush of his lips igniting a fire within you as he pulled you closer with an almost primal need. The way his fingers gripped your waist was raw and possessive, and the rough way he bit your lips sent delicious shivers coursing through you, intensifying your craving for more. You could sense the tension coiled within him—an urgency that made you hope he would unleash all that pent-up frustration on you.

“Don't hold back,” you mumble against his lips just before he pushes you backward onto the mattress. 

“Don’t think I can,” he replies, pulling his shirt over his head before discarding his sweats, leaving him only in boxers as he towers over you. You are captivated by the charged energy surrounding him, his gaze burning with a carnal intensity you've never witnessed before. A flicker of irritation flashes across his expression, and you realize you've been ogling for too long. He grips your thighs firmly, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. “Is this how you help? By lying there and looking cute instead of getting naked? I think you might be adding to my frustrations, baby,” he frowns, the tension thickening with each passing heartbeat.

Snapping back to your senses, you quickly begin to strip off your clothes, all while Renjun strokes himself slowly, watching your every move with keen interest. You meet his gaze once you're undressed, silently seeking his approval. “That's a good girl,” he hisses through gritted teeth, gripping the base of his cock as his eyes darken with desire. “That's my good baby.” The condescending tone in his voice sends a thrill down your spine; he'd never spoken to you like this before, and you were relishing every second of it. You could feel the slickness between your thighs—a clear sign of how much his words affected you. Locking eyes with Renjun, the tension in the air was palpable; you both knew this twist in your dynamic was thrilling. Though he worried his display of dominance might make you uncomfortable, you were eager to surrender to him tonight, ready to give him everything he desired.

"All yours, Injunnie," you tease, your hand trailing down his chest before you bring it to your own body. Dipping lower, your fingers brush against your clit as you gather your slick. You spread it, ready for him, your confidence shining through. "I can handle it."

You see the way his last bit of resolve breaks as his hands explore your body, pulling you into a heated kiss. You can feel the way he ruts harshly against you, the tip of his dick catching against your clit. Each time he presses against you, the sensation drives you wild. You can't help it; you slide a shaky hand between you, feeling him slip inside, eliciting a sound from him that’s a mix of a growl and a moan. "Fuck,” he hisses. He seats himself deep inside before pulling out slowly. Sitting up, he locks eyes with you as he begins to thrust back into you; He drives into you over and over again. Soon hes chest to chest with you, one arm wrapped around your waist while his hand grips your ass, nails sure to leave a cresent shape mark when hes done with you. Each thrust would have pushed you up the bed if it wasn't for his death grip keeping you in place. Your moans of pleasure fill the air, especially when he nibbles on your neck and you can't help the way your body tenses up as you cum all over him. “Just a little more,” he murmurs, sensing your heightened sensitivity. He sits up again and grabs at your hips, pulling you back into him as he grinds in deep before cumming inside of you. 

Both of you are heaving by the time it’s over, the intensity of the moment hanging in the air like a last breath; it feels as if you watched the demon that had possessed your boyfriend slip away in real time. “Oh shit,” he mutters in shock, his gaze sweeping over your disheveled appearance, and without missing a beat, he adds, “Let me help clean you up.” He rushes out of the room, returning moments later with a warm towel, ready to offer comfort amid the chaos.

After the cleanup, you both settle into the warmth of your bed, the weight of the earlier chaos slowly lifting as you look up at him, your eyes searching for reassurance. “Promise not to hold anything in anymore?” you ask softly, hoping for an honest answer. His gaze meets yours, sincerity etched on his features as he replies, 

“I promise. I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, concern flickering in his eyes. 

“Honestly, you could have been a bit rougher,” you reply playfully, sparking a lighthearted chuckle from him. “

There’s a lot more I have to learn about you,” he says, his tone teasing yet genuine. You smile up at him, warmth spreading in your chest as you respond, 

“We have all the time in the world.” 

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 12/? Word count: 3726 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 10. Unaware

"Hey," Matilde said when she entered the room next to her office. Galileo was already working behind his desk. "Do you have a minute so that we can talk?"

The young Italian nodded, knowing what this was about. "Of course."

"Do you want something to drink? I'm getting a cappuccino."

Galileo raised his eyebrows and really wanted to say something, but he thought it was best to keep his mouth shut. "No, thank you."

Matilde had to do her best to hide her grin. It was 14:00, and technically, according to the Italians, it was too late to drink a cappuccino. But she didn't care. People in this office didn't care about her, so why should she care? "Okay. I'll be back in... five?"

"Yes, absolutely."

The Dane walked to the coffee corner on the same floor and asked the barista for a cappuccino. Again, she received the side eye, but Matilde only smiled, causing the barista to make the cappuccino anyway.

A few minutes later, Matilde entered her office and called Galileo in. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," he nodded as he sat across from her. "How about you?"

Matilde pressed the corners of her mouth down, acting casual. "Fine, fine," she mumbled. "I will go straight to the point because, apparently, I have a board meeting now." She noticed the stress on Galileo's face when she said it. "How come I was unaware of the inauguration ceremony this morning?" Matilde asked and looked at Galileo. 'And the board meeting?'

The young assistant parted his lips and looked at his boss. His heartbeat became fast; he forgot to inform her about the inauguration ceremony and the board meeting. "I... I forgot, I think."

She nodded. "Thank you for being honest with me, Galileo," she said. "Look, I would be lying if I said it is okay and can happen. I need to know when these things happen, these events are very important for me, the team and for the representation of this team. You are here to support me, manage my appointments and to make sure I am aware of it." Matilde shared a warm smile, she could see how sorry he was. "For now, it happened, and there's nothing we can do about it anymore. But for the next time, double-check everything, okay?"

"I will. I am sorry," the young Italian said.

"Thank you."

Galileo got up and was about to leave the office.

"These things happen, but make sure you learn from them. Without making mistakes, you won't learn properly," she reminded him before he left.

Once he left the room, her smile dropped, and she turned around in her chair, facing the wall behind her desk. She blinked a couple of times and yawned. Being a team principal was literally being a teacher to toddlers. Matilde took a deep breath and got up, taking her laptop, notebook and coffee with her. She made her way to the meeting room, ready to be attacked and to defend herself in front of the most influential people of Ferrari.

"Hello," she said when entering the room, leaving the door open.

The big people looked already annoyed, a great start. She showed no fear and made her way to the only available seat.

"We've been waiting for you for over fifteen minutes," a woman said.

Matilde didn't remember her name, only that she looked like Donatella Versace. Matilde glanced at her, ready to say something, but she got interrupted by a knock on the door. She looked at the person, it was Mario. "Mario," Matilde smiled.

"Sorry to interrupt. Can I ask you a question?" Mario said.

"Of course. What is it?" She nodded and opened her laptop.

Sighs filled the room, causing Mario to look uncomfortable. Glances were shared; why did Mario interrupt? But a more important question was: why did someone from the night shift ask for her?

"The order that is missing, do we have an update on it yet?" Mario asked, hoping the order had arrived.

Matilde blew up her cheeks. "I have not seen a note yet, so I don't think so. I will follow it up after this meeting, you will hear from me."

The night shift manager and the team principal looked at each other; both wondering why they were present at the office. Mario squeezed his eyebrows together. "I thought you were supposed to be here at..." Mario pulled up the sleeve of his watch. "Six o'clock?"

"Well," she countered. "And what are you doing here then?" A cheeky smile came on her face.

"Mhm-mhm," Mario chuckled. "I will hear from you," he winked and walked away.

It was silent in the room again. Matilde looked around, raising her eyebrows, waiting for the meeting to start.

"What was that all about?" the same woman as earlier asked.

"If you work a shift, you are not allowed to start your next shift eleven hours after your previous shift ended. And since the night shift ended eight hours ago, we are legally forbidden to be here and work until six this afternoon," Matilde explained, reminding the board about the rules.

No one reacted to the comment. Instead, Simone started the meeting with a small introduction of why the board came together. "Firstly, do you have a reason why you were late to this board meeting, Matilde?"

Matilde looked up from her laptop and blinked a couple of times, taking a sip of her coffee. "Legally, I am not supposed to be here. My shift ended eight hours ago, which I explained a few seconds ago. I am making an exception to be here," she mentioned. "So the reason why I am late: I am still off duty."

No one seemed to find a suitable answer to her reply. Again, they were sharing looks with each other, trying to understand why she took a night shift.

"For clarification: I am taking night shifts every other week?" Matilde looked around, she thought people were aware about that. She always wrote it down in her work agenda and everyone has access to her agenda.

"Noted," Simone said and he looked at his notes. "So the reason why you were late at the inauguration ceremony is also because of the break-rule. But may I ask why you're here? You are legally not allowed to be here for four more hours, as you said so yourself."

"Exactly." Even though that wasn't the exact reason why she was late at the ceremony, she thought that was an excellent reason for this board. Galileo made a mistake, but that was something between them, and Matilde wanted to protect him from the board. "And the reason why I'm here is because I was bored at home. And I'm the team principal, I always have work to do."

The woman who spoke to her at the beginning, took over. Wasn't her name Antonia? A sly smirk appeared on her face, she was ready to attack the young team principal. "We received a message from PR about the celebrations in Miami."

Oh, here we go, Matilde thought. How did PR know about this? Who talked? Matilde nodded, accepting that she had to explain her side of the incident.

"We understand that you are delighted to celebrate your first win - as you should, but we received videos of you partying with Max Verstappen and some employees of Red Bull Racing. You have to understand that that is not great for your image."

Matilde straightened her face. This was about Max and Red Bull? She looked around, everyone looked sternly at her, like she had damaged their reputation. "Well, yes-"

"We understand you have your friends at your former team, but you cannot be seen like this." The tone of Antonia was unrelenting.

Matilde was prepared to defend herself and maintain her professionalism, but the weight of their expectations was palpable. She took a moment to generate her response. Of course, she knew the delicate balance she had to follow between maintaining relationships in the paddock and upholding Ferrari's image.

"Matilde, do you think that action was appropriate?" Simone could see Matilde was thinking about a response, but he wanted her to be faster. He was taking notes, looked up and waited for a further response. "It could be perceived as celebrating with a competitor, a rival."

"I appreciate your concern," Matilde began, her voice steady. "And I acknowledge that appearances matter. However-" Before she could elaborate further on her intentions, someone else cut in.

"Our image is important. We cannot afford to have our team principal's actions misinterpreted, especially with a rival team." The voice of the man was sharp, but impatient.

The frustration in Matilde's veins simmered just below the surface. But she maintained her composure. "As I was trying to say, we must also consider the context. I was not celebrating with Max and Red Bull Ra-"

"You have to understand that it's not just about the context."

This meeting was about interrogating Matilde, to share their criticisms without allowing her to respond fully and to defend herself. Matilde had expected a severe meeting about the team's performances, not this relentless lecture that made her feel increasingly unheard and undermined.

Matilde clenched her jaw and she took a deep breath, now her irritation began to bubble up. She didn't get the chance to explain herself, as they only seemed to be interested in one side of the story. She refused to back down on her story. "I understand the importance of our image-" she repeated, her voice tight.

But yet again, she was cut off by Simone, who seemed to have a lot of fun by irritating her. "Our team's reputation is at stake here. You may see it as a small gesture, but the public won't always perceive it that way," Simone looked at Antonia. "Antonia, you have set up a statement. Matilde, we want you to publish a statement for this incident."

Matilde squeezed her eyebrows together, and she looked around as if she was the main character of The Office. "Excuse me? Why?" Her tone was openly irritated now. "I acknowledge the importance of the team's image, but let's not lose sight of the bigger picture here. This obsession with a harmless moment is counterproductive."

"Matilde, the perception of our team matters. We need to control the narrative. A statement will help manage this situation," Antonia said.

Matilde almost groaned in frustration. They weren't listening to her, it was like they were fixated on the statement and not the reason behind it. "I understand your point, but let's not forget the context. I believe we are blowing this out of proportion. If I just may-" Her patience was wearing thin.

"You have to-"

"If you could, please let me finish," she repeated, raising her voice a little bit, demanding to have the word. "The reason why I was standing next to Max and Red Bull was because I was not invited to our own team's celebration dinner," she explained.

The board members exchanged glances, and Simone leaned back in his chair, a look of incredulity on his face. "So you decide to celebrate your win with our rival?" He repeated, as though the idea was utterly preposterous.

Matilde blinked a couple of times, looking unheard. Did they just not hear what she said? "In other words, yes," she responded. "Because I was not invited to the team's celebration dinner. And I want to clarify this: Max Verstappen is my friend, Red Bull is filled with my friends-"

"We need to address this issue promptly and professionally," Antonia chimed in, her tone critical. "Drafting a statement is the right course of action."

Matilde's frustration had reached its peak. She couldn't believe how obstinate the board was being, seemingly ignoring her explanations. Their need to release a statement was maddening. "Are you even listening to me? Why do I need to justify myself for the fact that I, the team principal, was not invited to the team's celebration dinner? It makes more sense for you to justify this situation." She felt so extremely selfish to say that she wasn't invited and that she had to be invited. Perhaps everyone disliked her and it was their plan not to invite her, and perhaps it was her expectation she had to be invited. Perhaps she was the issue.

"You are the team principal, you are a model to not only your team, but to the entire field and fanbase," Simone emotionlessly replied.

"Fine, but then make sure Leclerc is not allowed to talk to Gasly outside of work anymore, or meet with him outside of the track. And ban Sainz from golfing with Norris," Matilde shot back.

While the board was discussing the situation, the entire floor could hear their debate. Even though there was a lot of work to do, the entire floor of employees were more interested in the conversation. People gathered around, close enough to the meeting room to hear everything, but not to be seen by the board members. It had been the first time they heard Matilde speaking up like this. People doubted if she ever could get angry, but after this weekend and this discussion, they figured out Matilde could get angry very badly.

Charles and Carlos were sitting at a desk, in the engineers room, discussing some points for the sim later this afternoon. They could hear the discussion very well. Even they stopped working to follow the discussion.

"She's feisty," Charles said perplexedly. "Oh, my gosh." He covered his mouth with his hand.

"After Sunday, I didn't think she could surprise me anymore, but I didn't expect this," an engineer mentioned.

Carlos' mouth hung open, focussing on the conversation. "We have to say something, this is something between her and the board, not us."

"No, no, don't," Charles replied, raising his arm.

"But this is unacceptable. You're nosy."

"It is their problem, not ours. They shouldn't have left the door wide open," Charles shrugged. Carlos got up. "Don't," Charles said disappointingly.

Carlos shook his head, left the engineer's room and walked through the hallway. He noticed how the entire floor was standing close to the meeting room. It was serious, very serious. Charles joined him on the walk, he couldn't resist the urge to get closer to the commotion. They squeezed between the people, careful not to obstruct anyone's view.

"I can't believe they're making such a fuss about this," Charles muttered under his breath.

Carlos looked behind him, not realising Charles had followed him. He nodded in agreement. "It's absurd. They're treating her like she committed a crime." He stepped to the room, everybody collectively holding their breath. When he stood in front of the room, Matilde was in the middle of her sentence.

"I still cannot figure out how me, having a night out with my friends, bothers you the most out of that evening?" Matilde asked.

To Carlos' surprise, Matilde was still looking and speaking professionally. He knocked on the door, alerting them to his presence. "Hey, I am..." He pointed at the door.

She looked at him and held up her hand. "You can leave the door open, Carlos," she said before continuing on the same tone with the rest of her words. "Do you know what bothers me the most? Besides the board not understanding this situation, the fact that the entire team, not just a few people, but everyone, went out for dinner to celebrate the win and they did not even bother to ask me to join them on purpose."

Carlos stood speechlessly in front of the meeting room. He looked to his right, to his team, with rounded eyes. He walked back to his team. "This is serious shit," he said.

"I will not publish a statement," Matilde finished her story. "I think it will be time for us to hire an external coach or a psychologist. The way of communication has to change internally and as quickly as possible. Especially the communication between employees. That is the main issue in this team. This meeting is over. If there are any questions, don't hesitate to contact my assistant. Good afternoon, everyone."

The people in the hallway didn't know how fast they had to return to their desks. They had to pretend they hadn't been listening. Carlos ran after Charles back to the engineer's room. They jumped down on their seats. A second later, Matilde passed them. Silence fell on the entire floor and they all looked at Matilde; she showed no emotion.

"Holy shit..." Charles whispered. "That was something else," he remarked.

Carlos nodded, still impressed by Matilde's determination. His respect for her grew. "She's not one to back down, that's for sure."

The entire floor has just witnessed their 'puppy' team principal push back against the board with an intensity that was rarely seen. The engineers were buzzing with discussions about what had just transpired. It was clear that Matilde's impassioned defence had made an impact on everyone who had heard it. The board, too, was left with much to consider after her strong words. Her speech had ignited a new level of respect among the team, who now saw her in a different light. Her actions had solidified her position not just as a team principal, but as a leader who wasn't afraid to fight for the people, even against the most powerful figures within Ferrari.

Charles got up from his chair and made his way to Matilde's office. He ignored Galileo, who told him not to enter the office. After knocking, Charles swung open the door; Matilde was standing in front of the window, arms crossed, looking outside, her posture reflecting frustration and exhaustion.

"Hey..." he gently spoke.

Matilde looked over her shoulder. Once their gaze met, she showed just a smile - a smile without emotion or meaning. "Hello," she replied.

"Would you like to grab a coffee?" He pointed behind him. "There's a new coffee stand on the campus."

She considered Charles' offer for a moment. The tension from the board meeting still lingered, just like the unaware ceremony and incident from Sunday. However, she knew a short break and some fresh air would do her good. She stared at her watch and she nodded, she had some time left before her next meeting. "Yeah, sure," she replied, her smile now carrying a bit more warmth.

Charles hoped that this coffee break would provide her some rest and reset. Matilde grabbed her pass and sunglasses before they left her office. In silence they walked over the campus. Charles didn't feel the need to say anything, he wanted to make sure that Matilde could empty her mind.

As they approached the stand, Matilde scanned the new stand. She hadn't seen it before, but it looked cute. It was quite a minimalist stand, it was a stand that could go viral on Instagram for the aesthetic. Matilde was surprised to see that they served iced coffee, so she ordered that. Charles ordered a simple espresso.

"Thanks," Matilde broke the silence. They had their coffee and sat down on a small wall next to the stand. Charles looked at her, sharing a questionable look. "For... You know, this."

"Of course." He offered a supportive smile. "A small break can do miracles."

"I..." She took a deep breath. "I really appreciate it."

"Anytime." Charles looked in front of him. "And about Sunday... I didn't know what was happening. I assumed you were at the dinner, but somewhere...I don't know, somewhere where we couldn't see you."

"It's okay. It happened."

"It's not okay and it wasn't classy from our side."

"It is what it is, Charles. I hope it was miscommunication and I hope we all learn from it," she responded. Momentarily, Matilde didn't like the team, but she couldn't show it. She had to deal and work with it. "And I didn't celebrate the win with Max. People told me there wouldn't be a party because of the early flight the next day, so I wanted to get a drink at the hotel. I bumped into Gemma, my best friend. She works as a PR manager for Red Bull, and she dragged me to the restaurant. If I knew about your dinner, I obviously wouldn't have done it."

He pressed his lips into a thin line and he looked at her, it looked like she regretted everything.

"I have my friends at Red Bull. Max and I joined Red Bull at the same time, we 'grew up' together, I met my friend group there. And everyone assumes I moved to Ferrari to spy for Christian. When we see each other, we briefly talk about F1, we mostly talk about bullshit and ourselves, not about our work. I signed a million documents, they signed a million documents, why do people assume we share the team's deepest secrets?"

"You don't have to explain yourself, Matilde. I understand you." Charles knew it was better if she could just rant, let it all out, he wanted to let her know that it was safe to rant with him.

"And this morning, I got here and it was basically the same thing all over again. The ceremony thing and the board meeting I wasn't told about." Her voice cracked and she let out a loud sigh. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," Charles replied and put his espresso next to him on the wall. He wrapped his arm around her and rubbed her arm.

Matilde leaned into the comforting gesture. Fortunately, she was wearing sunglasses. "I just want to do what's best for the team. I do what I think is the best," she admitted, her voice filled with raw emotion. "And I know this role isn't for softies, but there's just so much friction."

"Ferrari is a tough team to work with. I can't approve of what happened this week, but it's been a stressful time," he shared.

She straightened her back and dried her eyes. "Thanks." Matilde looked at him. They held each other's gaze for a few seconds. Charles shared a warm smile, Matilde couldn't help, but smile because of his smile. "God, this isn't professional. I am sorry."

Charles chuckled. "Team principal or not, you have feelings and sometimes you have to let them out. This stays between us, alright?"

"Thank you." She got up and looked around. "Let's get back to work. I have a feeling there are more wins in store for us."

Next chapter

[writermai05]

Arsonist's Lullabye

Chapter 4: Build Again

Summary: Zuko has a crazy day at work 

Pairing: Zuko x fem! reader (Live Action or Animated) 

A/N: Surprise! Another chapter, before Friday. I may or may not post two chapters this week, but no promises LMAOO. Not revised because we die like men. As always feel free to leave comments or constructive feedback, as it helps me grow. 

Word Count: 878

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Avatar: The Last Airbender, I am merely a nerd who hyperfixates a lot. Lots of divergence from the canon story lol. 

Warnings: None I think. 

Today started like any other, utterly uneventful. 

Zuko had gone downstairs into the shop at eight in the morning to prepare for opening. Iroh went into the kitchen in the back and handled most of the cooking. Zuko had previously asked his uncle many times if he needed any help, but Iroh consistently refused. Although, he didn’t quite blame his uncle for that. The first, and last, time that Zuko had been let into the kitchen ended up in flames: literally. He had burnt dozens of fruit tarts and muffins. Admittedly, he was much better at understanding the science behind food, rather than actually cooking it. 

He mopped the floors, wiped the tables, restocked straws and napkins, and prepared the various toppings, boba, jellies, and syrups. He found the process of opening quite therapeutic, no one was around to distract him and he was able to focus on the tasks at hand. 

Fridays were usually their busiest days. The tea ceremony room often had large parties coming in, businessmen having meetings, clubs from the University having events. and of course the front open seating area was full. The Jasmine Dragon was a place where people came and felt welcome, regardless of who they were, and the idea warmed Zuko’s heart. He felt immense pride in his Uncle’s shop. 

Today was busy, but there was no afternoon rush like there usually was. Students sat quietly, typing away at their laptops and wearing headphones to keep any distractions at bay. The tea room had absolutely no reservations for the day. Zuko kept himself busy by grabbing more pastries from the kitchen to sell. 

As he ducked below the counter to put the pastries in the warming oven, he heard the chime of the door’s bell. 

“Welcome! Give me one second..” He called out from below. Once he had finished, he got up slowly, keeping his attention on the warmer before finally addressing the customer. Making eye contact with them, his eyes widened. 

It was Aang. 

Zuko attempted to compose himself, before opening his mouth to speak.

“Hey…What can I get for you?” He said in a rigid way. He cursed himself for his inability to just act normal. 

Though,  Aang wasn’t doing much better. He stood there, eyes also wide. 

“My bad...I thought Iroh would be working the register today.” He said, wincing at his confession. 

“Oh. Well, I…Do you want me to go-” He asked gesturing to his left where the kitchen was. Aang shook his head, eyebrows scrunching. 

“No! No, it’s okay. I don’t want to make this harder.” Zuko nodded, in response, walking back over to the register. 

“Yeah. Um, what would you like to order?” Zuko hasn’t sounded this unsure while taking an order since he was 14. 

“I’ll just get one wintermelon milk tea and a brown sugar boba.” Aang was definitely ordering for himself and Katara. 

“Alright. Any toppings with that?” 

“Just tapioca in both, please.” 

Zuko nodded stiffly, punching the order into the screen. 

“That’ll be 7 silver pieces.” 

As Aang ruffled through his bag pocket and placed the coins on the counter, Zuko waited, hands anxiously moving around. 

“Thank you, I’ll get those out shortly.” 

He turned away as fast as possible, getting the to-go cups, and preparing the boba like Aang asked. ‘What are you doing! This is literally your chance to apologize.’ He thought to himself. He debated what to do for a while before settling. He finished up Aang’s order, ducking below the counter once again to retrieve some pastries for the boy. One egg custard tart, and one red bean cake. He knew Aang liked Egg tarts, but he had no idea what Katara would like. He grabbed a red bean rice cake, considering that it was probably a pretty safe option. 

“Order for Aang!” He called out, placing the pastries onto the counter with the drinks. Aang hurried to the counter, looking at the things Zuko had laid out for him. 

“I didn’t order any pastries…” He said confusedly. 

“...I know.” Zuko said, with a nod, making strong eye contact with Aang. This was his chance.

“I’m sorry. For everything. I know this is not nearly enough for what I did but I hope you at least accept it as a peace offering.” Zuko intently watched Aang’s face, trying to get a read. 

Much to Zuko’s surprise, Aang smiled. 

“Thank you Zuko! This means a lot, really.” Aang smiled, grabbing a bag and straws for the drinks. 

“Hey! Next Friday is Toph’s power disc game. Suki and the Kyoshi colorguard are performing too, with the band. You should come! You can talk to the others.”

Zuko pursed his lips and squinted at Aang. 

“Respectfully, I don’t think that’s the best idea Aang.” He said, helping Aang with the bags. 

“Come on, it'll be fine! I’ll be there and so will one of our new friends Y/n. I think she said that she met you here before.”

Zuko perked up at the mention of you being there. Maybe if he had the support of both you and Aang, it would be easier to get through. 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.” Zuko said. 

“Great! I’ll see you then. Thanks again Zuko!”

Zuko hoped he wouldn’t regret this. 

[abbyslev]

𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑫 𝑰𝑻- 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

A/N: hello! sorry this is so sloppy, i’ve been cleaning my room and redecorating but i wanted to post something. my wifi is out and i can’t use my fucking laptop and it 4 am so PLEASE excuse any bad grammar or anything!! sorry for ranting i just love you guys sm 🙁 anyway i hope you guys truly enjoy this!!

WARNINGS: forbidden shit trope thing, spit, mutual masturbation, commander! hange and section commander reader, fingering. lightly proofread (i’m tired pls give me a break🙏🏼) any feedback is appreciated!!

It was past 7, you were in the showers, washing off the dirt from training.

Training cadets wasn't as easy as it looked, especially when you had idiots like Jean and Connie. The hot water burned against your skin, soap running down your bare body. You breathe softly, shutting off the water. You took your time getting ready, slipping on your sleeping pants and soft shirt.

You carried your little basket full of toiletries back to your room, soft shoes padding against the hard floor. You enter your office, looking up at Levi and Hange. “Hey guys.” You waved. “We were planning something, and we needed your opinion.” Levi leaned against your desk. “So you welcomed yourself into my office?” You sighed. Levi dangled your spare keys in your face. You sighed in defeat, shrugging.

“That shit needs to be cleaned.” He eyed the paper work on your table. “I’d rather shower first than sit in my own stench and do work.” You shot back at your brother, and approached the pair. “For our next expedition, we need you to lead the second wave, since your cadets are better than mine. I’ll be right behind you, is that okay?” Their long fingers trailed down the map, eyes tranced on your face.

“Y-yeah.” You nod your head, suddenly feeling nervous under their watch. “Okay, that’s settled. I’ll take this up to Erwin.” Levi grabbed the map. “You owe me, by the way. Finished some of your reports.” You push back your damp hair, your gray eyes meeting his identical ones.

“Whatever.” He closed the door behind himself. “So, how was your shower?” Hange sat on your desk, legs spread a bit, hand resting on their thigh, the other pushing their glasses up. “It was good, got that stiffness out of my body.” You say in your chair, rolling between Hange’s legs.

“You work too much, you’re just like your brother.” Hange tsked, hands meeting your shoulders. “He works overtime, I do my work and call it a day. I actually value my sleep.” You joke, arms tingling where Hange ran their hands over.

“Relax.” They whisper in your ear, stepping behind your chair. You felt your heart stop, breath hitching. Oh my god. “You deserve a break…” Hange ran their hands down your shoulders, fingers scratching your back slightly. You sighed, back arching a bit.

“Too much work to worry ‘bout.” You lean your head down, eyes focused on your lap. “Yeah?” Hange came back around the chair, leaning on your desk. Their eye watched your face as the blood rushed to your face, hands playing with each other. “Let me help you relax, then.” Hange hooked their foot around your chair, rolling you forward.

You look up, mouth slightly open. Hange placed their hands on your waist, pulling you towards them. You stumbled forward, lips almost touching. “So stiff.” They shook their head, lips pouting. They ran their hands up and down your back, before slipping their hands up the soft material of your shirt,

“Gonna make you feel so much better after this.” They pressed their lips against your ear, lips tracing around your jaw before finally kissing your lips. Their hands squeeze your breast, fingers tracing over your hardened nipples. You whimper against their lips, trying to pull back. Hange bit your bottom lip, keeping you from moving. “Relax.” Their nose traced against your face, hands working you.

This was wrong. All of it. You were literally about to fuck your Commander, your brothers best friend. Your higher up. How would Levi feel if he knew about this? This wasn’t right. You had reports to do, which sat, abandoned under Hange. Though you knew it was wrong, forbidden even, you whined for more.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You press yourself up against their thigh, hips fighting to grind on them. “Do you want to do this?” Hange’s brows furrowed, hands now rubbing up and down your hips. You blush, nodding. “Then it’s not wrong.” Hange kissed you harder, tongue exploring your mouth.

Your hands find their way into the loose hairs on the back of their head, tangling themselves there, slightly pulling them. “Fuck.” Hange groaned, pushing you against the bookshelf behind you. “So pretty.” Hange kissed your neck, moving your damp hair out of the way.

One hand slipped inside your pants. Hange pulled back, smiling. You close your eyes, humiliated. “All for me?” They smirk, fingers ghosting over your clothed clit. “Answer.” They press down a finger. You hiss, nodding. “Y-yes, god.” You try to close your legs. “So quick?” They got a kick out of you being embarrassed.

“Just fuck me already.” You lean your head into their shoulder, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Their fingers pushed your wet panties aside, fingers running through your wet folds. “Ohmygod.” You rush out, hands gripping their arms. Their knee nudged your legs apart, fingers teasing your entrance.

“Relax.” They drag out the word, lips kissing yours softly. Their middle finger slipped inside you. Your shoulders drop, head leaning back. “Fuck.” You whisper, hips bucking as they add a second finger, speeding up their pace. “Is it wrong to feel like this?” Hange breathed against your neck.

“N-no.” You shake your head, digging your nails into their arms. “Breathe.” They remind you, slipping out their fingers to circle your clit. “Hangeeee.” You moan, moving your hips against their fingers. Their tongue traced your ear, your jaw, down to your collarbone.

Their fingers were suddenly shoved into your mouth. You open your eyes, frowning at the sudden loss of contact. You suck on Hange’s fingers, eye contact strong. “Good.” Hange placed their fingers into their mouth, smiling. They got down on their knees, shirt slightly unbuttoned, giving you a good view.

Hange’s fingers hooked around your pants, pulling them down. You stared at them, head tilting. “Finish yourself.” They smile, eyes staring at your wet cunt. You bring down your hand, finger circling around your swollen clit,

Your hips jerk forward, mind racing. Hange was staring at you, and you felt humiliated, vulnerable and shy. Their fingertips raked your thigh, their other hand playing with themselves. You move your finger faster, inserting a finger inside yourself.

You pant, chest heaving up and down. Hange watched as your pussy clenched around your finger, your arousal dripped down your soft thighs. They opened their mouth, sticking their tongue out. You let your fingers slip out of you, releasing in their mouth.

Hange toyed with your sensitive clit, lapping at your soaked cunt. “So good.” They kiss your bud and up your thighs. They come back up, pressing their lips against yours. “Feel better?” “So much better.”