#*voice a the guy from that commercial*

[liverpool-enjoyer]

💞

alright yall get ready for an INFLUX of these asks

💞 @ your favorite blog oh no way in heck can i name jus one. uhhhh @rainingmbappe @memorycollectr @childishfirmino @millythegoat @lukarnodrics @sztrapacska @seedlessmuffins @cryingforcrocodiles @swaggypsyduck @yudgefudge @liverpoolfanfiction @kevjrr @aechii @blaugrana-blues @onetouchparadise @bobbybecker-21 @darththrog @mebiselfandi @lonely-salamander @cherishlaluna @stargarland @calm-smol @moomin279 @safestofhands @greekscouserr @neyxmessi @jordanhendersunshine @ciromuffins @stamatia25082004 @bigmagalhaes,,, and more!!!

ask me stuff if you want :))

[deus-ex-mona]

a n y w a y s listen to nagisa’s new song it’ll change your life

[moongirl0305]

Don't hide this in the tags, omg!!

[sttm99]

Based on this story by @kumimi3

Prohero!Katsuki, who's modelling for Calvin Klein. Who's seen you in some magazines, commercials, or fashion blogs and hasn't ever paid much interest. There's something about media that diminishes beauty, such that a pretty face becomes mundane when on television.

So he doesn't care much until he sees you for the first time during a shoot.

And he thinks you're absolutely unreal.

You're beautiful, in a way that has people unable to look away, as if something will happen the moment their eyes leave you.

There is no camera in the world that does you justice, and annoyingly, it has him sweating a bit when you're close, your torso leaning on him.

"Stand over there," the photographer says, instantly ushering you to step over to Bakugo.

"We're just gonna get some shots in before your solos, YN." The photographer tells you. "Stand closer to Bakugo."

The shoot takes longer than what he's used to. It dragged on, with the photographer intent in getting you in every single position he could come up with.

"You're his muse," Bakugo hears one of the makeup artists say. "He's practically enamoured."

'She's beautiful, though... I would be, too,' he thinks.

The shoot ends, and he's already researching your name and company while in the car on the way back. He's consuming information about you rapidly, measurements and backstories, your agency and your nationality, your pictures.

In about two months or so, you're booked to model some line of merchandise for one of the larger Hero Agencies in Japan. You're sitting against a backdrop, moving through accessories and black pieces of clothing, all with a similar orange cross over the chest.

When you're changing, redoing your hair and makeup, one of the stylists whispers to you.

"Are you two close? Is that why he was so adamant about you?"

You furrow your brows in confusion, looking at her through the mirror. "What?"

She blinks at you, "He refused anyone else. Told them it was you or nothing. Just you."

You paused. You had only just recently moved down to Japan for work, and you were still just an upcoming face. You didn't know anyone influential in the field other than the photographer from some months ago, and he hadn't mentioned it.

"Who?"

The girl looks at you, then shrugs over to the door, where a guy you recognise is talking to the photographer. He's familiar, and it takes a moment before you remember he's the guy you did your Calvin Klein shoot with.

"Who is he?" You murmur, and the hair stylist and the makeup artist look at you like you're crazy.

"Bakugo Katsuki? Dynamight?"

"The Dynamight?" Your voice goes down to a whisper as shock fills you. You're looking at the makeup artist with wide, disbelieving eyes, and she's looking at you like the same way.

"Duh? You didn't know what he looked like?"

"I-" You stammer, trying not to give into the urge to turn back and stare at him. "I only just moved here.... I'm not too familiar with Japanese heroes.

The girl snorts. "Well, it looked like you're gonna be very familiar with Dynamight."

You turn back slowly but find that he's already looking at you.

[verstappenverse]

Revved Up

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max grows jealous after your Instagram post attracts unwanted attention, including from an ex.

Authors Note: Do I actually believe Max posts on his own instagram these days... let alone would post with a 'scandalous' caption...no? but this is fiction so it's all good 😂

1.4k words / Masterlist

Max was sitting on the plush leather couch in your shared Monaco apartment, flipping through TV channels with all the enthusiasm of a man waiting for a commercial break. He glanced at the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the stunning Mediterranean view, but even that wasn’t enough to distract him. It wasn’t the usual race strategy or upcoming practice sessions that had him restless—it was something far more personal.

You.

More specifically the photo you had posted on Instagram earlier that day, a simple mirror selfie, a little scandalous but nothing crazy. You looked radiant, sure, but that was normal for you. You were always beautiful to him. What had caught his eye was the flood of comments, the notifications popping up every few seconds as he scrolled through your post.

He kept scrolling eyes narrowing as the likes kept ticking upwards. Then he saw it.

Your ex.

The guy who clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that you were Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, because clearly he didn't see an issue with leaving a flirty comment that set Max’s nerves on edge.

'Looking gorgeous as always' it read, with an obnoxious little winking emoji at the end.

Max’s fingers tightened around the remote as the thought of some guy—especially your ex—thinking he had any right to compliment you in that way made his blood boil. You were his. The world knew it, but apparently some people needed reminding.

He didn’t say anything when you had walked into the living room earlier, cheerfully oblivious to his growing annoyance. Instead he had kept quiet, but now it was simmering just under the surface. Jealousy wasn’t a feeling Max was used to; on the track he was calm, confident, but when it came to you, his cool, collected exterior faltered. Especially when some idiot tried to act like he still had a chance.

You entered the room now wearing a loose sweatshirt and leggings, a casual look that contrasted with the glamorous image you had posted earlier. Max glanced at you his jaw tightening, you could sense something was off.

“Max, is everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head as you grabbed your phone from the counter. You didn’t even have to unlock it before he spoke.

“That picture,” he said abruptly, his Dutch accent thicker than usual, which tended to only happen when his emotions were running high. His fingers tapped on the arm of the couch in an impatient rhythm.

You furrowed your brow. “What about it?”

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and you could see the tension in his posture. “Your ex commented on it.”

“Oh,” you said, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t noticed.“I didn’t even see that.”

Max didn’t like the idea of you looking at that idiot’s comment again, but you opened the app and scrolled down anyway finding the offending message almost immediately.

You rolled your eyes and let out a light laugh. “Seriously? He’s such a loser. I haven’t talked to him in forever.”

Max didn’t seem to find it as amusing as you did. His frown deepened. “Yeah, well, he still thinks he can leave comments like that. Like I’m not here.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his grumpy tone. “What, are you jealous?”

His reaction was immediate. “Jealous? Me? No...” He paused. “I mean... you know how many people liked that picture?”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by how serious he looked. “Max, it’s just Instagram, I think the point is to like pictures," you laughed, but his expression didn't change,"Max come on it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly, though he still sounded more irritated than actually angry. “Everyone’s drooling over you in the comments. And then there’s him.”

You couldn't help chuckling again and slid onto the couch next to him, pressing your hand against his knee. “Are you worried someone’s going to steal me away?”

He gave you a look, his lips twitching upwards at the edges, betraying the smallest hint of a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re being ridiculous.” You leaned closer, brushing your lips against his cheek.

Max sighed dramatically throwing his head back against the cushions. “Maybe I should just post a picture with you, remind people who you belong to.”

“Oh, who I belong to?” you teased, poking him playfully in the ribs. “That sounds a little possessive.”

There was a teasing glint in his eye now, but you could still feel the underlying jealousy. “Can you blame me?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, enjoying how worked up he was getting over something so trivial. Seeing him this riled up over some stupid comment was kind of… adorable. You kind of loved when he got all possessive, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.

“No, I guess I can’t blame you,” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But you know I don’t care about those comments, right? Especially not from my ex. I didn’t even notice it.”

“Maybe you should block him,” Max muttered back to sounding grumpy.

You laughed again, unable to stop yourself. “Max it’s fine, if it’ll make you feel better of course I’ll block him. But I need you to know I never think about him.”

He softened a little at that, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. “You better not.”

You smiled, nuzzling into him the warmth of his body calming. “Besides, none of those guys commenting are Max Verstappen now are they?”

“Exactly,” Max said, and there was that cocky smile you loved so much. The mood lightened as his fingers brushed through your hair. “None of them stand a chance.”

You grinned up at him. “And neither does my ex, so you can relax.”

He seemed to settle after that, his hand lazily stroking your arm as the tension eased out of his shoulders. “Good. But still…”

“Still what?”

“I think I should post a picture with you. Just to make sure everyone knows.”

You snorted. “You just want an excuse to show off.”

“Can you blame me?” he repeated, his eyes glinting with mischief as he reached for his phone. “Come on, one picture. Let me remind everyone you’re mine.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. Just one.”

Max scrolled through his phone finding the perfect shot of you two together arms wrapped around each other, he quickly typed out a caption and hit ‘post.’ Not long after, your phone buzzed with notifications. His fans were quick, already liking and commenting on the post.

You glanced at it over his shoulder, chuckling at the caption: Just a reminder—she’s mine.

“Oh my God Max,” you groaned playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It’s true.”

You laughed and shook your head, leaning into him once more. “You really are something.”

“I know,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And don’t you forget it.”

The rest of the evening passed in a much lighter mood. The TV hummed in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, you spent the time teasing Max about his jealous streak, much to his dismay.

“You know I never thought I’d see the day when Max Verstappen got jealous over a social media comment,” you teased, curling up beside him on the couch.

He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “I’m not jealous. I’m just… protective.”

“Sure, that’s what we’ll call it.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little jealous,” he admitted, pulling you closer. “You’re kind of amazing.”

You beamed up at him, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. “Well good thing I’m all yours, huh?”

“Good thing,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss you, slow and sweet. When he pulled away, he added kiddingly “What about, no more selfies without me in them.”

You laughed and nudged him playfully. “We’ll see about that.”

But deep down, you didn’t mind the way Max was with you. The way he got protective, a little possessive, and sometimes even a little jealous. Max was known as a fierce competitor on the track, but when it came to you, his heart felt just as fierce, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Steve is a one hit wonder, or at least that's what most of the world thinks.

You'd assume that he peaked in high school, and his claim to fame was a kegstand record or something, but no, that's not it. He was the "king", sure, but one day he just happened to sit on a bench in his uni's campus, and because his lips felt really dry from the windy autumn weather, he re-applied some lipgloss. A photographer taking pictures of the campus for a promotional brochure saw him, approched him, and voila! The biggest success (or maybe a mistake) of Steve's life was born.

He starred in a lipgloss commercial.

Look, in his defense, he needed the money. His parents cut him off, he was finally finding himself in his new major, and he was passionate about being able to afford rent and groceries. So he went to the studio, let them powder his face to oblivion and apply some lipgloss. They also gave him a shirt two sizes too small, which was really uncomfortable, but apparently made his shoulders look nice. He tried his best to recall wooing girls in high school, put on a hopefully seductive face, repeated some silly lines, and that was it.

He bought a new mattress with what he called the "lipgloss money" and thought that he could get back to his life with no change.

Except that didn't happen. Because the ad took off. Really, really took off. It got sold out almost immediately. The restocks were so sought after, there were lines forming in front of drugstores. The lipgloss was nice, thought Steve, non-sticky and with a nice flavor, long-lasting as per the ad, but he failed to see the mass appeal.

As it turned out, the appeal was himself. People recognized him on the street. They asked him to repeat that stupid line he said for the commercial. Somehow it got him more modelling gigs, all good and well-paid, but sometimes he thought he'd forever be the lipgloss guy.

As he's now standing in front of his class of students as their new PE teacher, he realizes it's not that much of a curse. Not if they consider it insanely cool that their teacher is famous, and if he can use the famous catchphrase as a motivator. "Alright, alright," he laughs and tosses a basket ball to one of his students. "Score at least twice in this game and I'll say it."

He's never seen a game so competitive.

In the end, the students fulfill his condition. He grabs the lipgloss that one of the girls hands him, applies it to his lips, and assumes the well-practiced pose. He's so deep into his lipgloss model persona he doesn't realize the door to the gym opens.

"Just try kissing it off," he whispers in the most exaggerated, seductive voice he can muster.

His class explodes in laughter and clapping, but there's also an unfamiliar sound - a guitar case being dropped on the ground. Eddie Munson, the new music teacher who is supposed to prepare the gym for a students' concert that evening, stares at Steve as if he's a snack. A sweaty, lipgloss-covered snack.

In the awkward silence that follows, Steve rushes to pick up the guitar case, apologizes for shocking his new colleague and tries to explain the situation.

Eddie chuckles with him and assures him that no, it's all good, at least their first meeting was memorable. Steve sends his students to tidy the gym, and has to laugh when Eddie asks - "Sorry, what was that phrase again?"

"The lipgloss is supposed to be long-lasting, that's why," he explains. It's "Just try kissing it off."

And Eddie doesn't laugh at him, he just smirks and whispers:

"Well, don't mind if I do!"

[xo100]

Airport - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando Norris offers a woman, who missed her flight, a ride on his private jet to Monaco. They bond over light conversation and flirting, leaving with the possibility of seeing each other again.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1323

୨ৎ

The race weekend had been long, grueling, and filled with adrenaline. Lando Norris was ready to head back to Monaco, to the comfort of his own home where the sound of engines could be swapped for the quiet of the Mediterranean breeze. As he made his way through the airport, sunglasses perched on his nose and his cap pulled low, he weaved his way through the flow of people without drawing too much attention to himself.

It wasn’t until he neared the private terminal that he noticed something out of the ordinary: a young woman standing near the gate of a commercial flight to Monaco, her expression a mix of frustration and panic. Lando slowed his steps, curiosity piqued. She stood there, gazing hopelessly at the closed gate, gripping her passport tightly. Her bags were tossed haphazardly by her feet as though she’d raced through the airport only to fall seconds short of making it to her flight.

The sharpness of disappointment etched on her face was all too familiar. He’d been in similar situations before, dashing through airports, missing flights by mere moments. Only, she didn’t seem to have the luxury of a private jet waiting just down the hall like he did.

Lando hesitated. He didn’t know her story, but something about the way she stood there, looking so defeated, tugged at him. He glanced at his watch. His jet was leaving soon, but he still had time. And, well, maybe this wouldn’t be the worst idea. What was the harm in offering a bit of help?

He pulled his cap down a little further and crossed the distance between them, moving casually as though he were just another traveler making his way to his flight.

“Missed your flight?” he asked, his voice light but laced with concern.

She turned to look at him, startled at first, then quickly took him in—cap, sunglasses, and all. Recognition flickered in her eyes, but it wasn’t overwhelming. Just a flicker.

“Yeah,” she breathed out with a weak chuckle. “By about three minutes. They wouldn’t let me through even though the plane is still sitting there.”

“That’s tough,” Lando said, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Where you heading?”

“Monaco,” she said with a shrug, though it seemed like a more resigned gesture. “Guess I’ll have to wait for the next one.”

Lando nodded, glancing around the terminal. The airport was buzzing with the usual chaos, and he could see the stress rolling off her shoulders. He thought for a second, then made a split decision. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“I’m heading there too,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I’ve got a private jet leaving soon. If you want, you can take the flight with me.”

Her eyebrows shot up, and her lips parted slightly, a mixture of surprise and hesitation crossing her features.

“A private jet?” she asked, a little skeptical. “Isn’t that...a bit much?”

Lando laughed softly. “Maybe, but I’ve got plenty of room. Plus, you look like you could use a break from airport stress. I promise it’s less chaotic than commercial flights.”

She blinked, clearly processing his offer. The idea of getting onto a private jet with a guy she just met—even if he was Lando Norris—probably wasn’t something she had expected when she woke up that morning.

“That’s...really kind of you,” she said after a moment, her voice soft. “But I couldn’t—“

“Sure you can,” he interrupted, his tone teasing but warm. “Think of it as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You miss your flight, and instead of waiting around, you get to fly in style. How often does that happen?”

She laughed at that, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “When you put it like that…”

Lando grinned, taking her hesitation as a positive sign. “C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen? You get to Monaco an hour earlier, and we both get some company for the flight. No need to sit around waiting for the next one.”

She looked at him again, weighing her options. He could see the internal debate playing out in her eyes—logic versus the sheer spontaneity of his offer. Finally, she sighed, her lips curling into a tentative smile.

“Alright,” she said, running a hand through her hair. “Why not? But I’ll warn you, I might be a terrible conversationalist after the day I’ve had.”

“That’s okay,” Lando replied with a wink. “I’m known to talk enough for two.”

With that, he grabbed one of her bags effortlessly, motioning for her to follow him toward the private terminal. She trailed behind, still looking a little shell-shocked, but there was something about the ease of his manner that made her feel less anxious about the whole thing.

As they walked, Lando kept the conversation light, asking her about her trip and how she ended up almost missing her flight. She shared a story about how her taxi had gotten stuck in traffic, the minutes ticking away as she helplessly watched the airport get closer and closer. Lando laughed, offering a few of his own travel horror stories in return. By the time they reached the sleek jet waiting on the tarmac, the mood between them was light and comfortable.

-

“You weren’t kidding,” she muttered as they approached the aircraft, eyes wide as she took it all in. “This is...wow.”

Lando chuckled and waved a hand. “It’s not bad, right?”

They climbed aboard, and soon enough, they were airborne. The hum of the engines was soothing, and the view of the clouds stretching out below them was a peaceful contrast to the chaos of the airport they’d left behind.

“You know,” she said after a while, leaning back in her plush seat, “I still can’t believe I’m on a private jet with you. This feels surreal.”

Lando smirked, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “Trust me, I’ve been in a lot of surreal situations lately. This one’s pretty tame.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I guess that’s fair. Monaco, huh? Do you live there?”

“Yeah, for a while now,” he replied, glancing out the window. “It’s a nice place to unwind after the craziness of race weekends.”

“I’ve always wanted to visit,” she admitted. “I mean, I’ve been through a few times, but never really had a chance to stay.”

“Well, maybe this is your chance,” he said, eyes twinkling. “What’s your plan once we get there?”

“I was supposed to meet a friend,” she said with a sigh. “But it’s not set in stone. What about you?”

“Just heading home,” Lando said, then added with a teasing grin, “But if you need a tour guide while you’re there, I might be available.”

She raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. “Are you offering to show me around Monaco, Lando?”

“Maybe,” he said, his grin widening. “Depends if you’re up for it.”

She laughed softly, glancing out the window again. “I might take you up on that.”

For the rest of the flight, the conversation flowed easily, peppered with light flirtation and comfortable silences. There was something so natural about it—like they’d known each other for longer than just a chance meeting in an airport.

As the jet began its descent toward Monaco, Lando glanced over at her, feeling a strange sense of contentment.

“Guess we’re almost there,” he said.

”Yeah,” she replied, though her tone held a hint of reluctance. “Thanks again for this, Lando. You really saved my day.”

He flashed her a playful grin. “Anytime. Maybe I’ll see you around Monaco.”

“Maybe,” she said with a smirk of her own. “But next time, let’s hope it’s under more normal circumstances.”

“Deal,” he replied with a wink.

As they stepped off the jet and into the warm Monaco air, Lando couldn’t help but think that maybe missing her flight had been the best thing that could’ve happened to either of them that day.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, I hope y’all enjoyed! Remember requests are open if you would like to request something. Also question for you guys, is there someone who can help me with the link of the requests so I could put it in my masterlist? I don’t know where to find that link, DM me if you know.

[moonstruckme]

hi i love your blog! could you write poly!marauders where james is away on a business trip and everyone is moping because they miss him

Hi, I love you! Thanks for requesting :)

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 864 words

You feel a bit guilty resting your head on Sirius' shoulder while longing for another. But you reason that it’s not so bad if the one you’re longing for is Sirius’ boyfriend, too. And you like to think that if it were James’ warm, cushiony shoulder you were leaning against, you’d be missing Sirius instead. 

“How was everyone’s day?” you ask. 

Remus turns to give you a peculiar look. “It was fine. We talked about this already, didn’t we?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I just feel like we’re not usually so quiet during the commercial breaks.” 

“Our yapper’s gone,” Sirius says, sulkily. 

“James does usually start the conversation,” admits Remus. “But we don’t need him to talk. Right?” 

“Right.” You nod, sitting up with what you hope looks like conviction. “Sirius, you can yap just as well as James can.” 

“Yeah, but I need him to get me going.” Your boyfriend sighs heavily. “He’d probably ask something like ‘If we were all in a circus, what would our roles be?’ and I can’t come up with shit like that.”

“No, that’s great!” You try to sound peppy. “Um, okay. Sirius would probably be a trapeze artist, right?” 

Remus nods. “And I could see you being a tightrope walker.” 

You both look to Sirius for his analysis, but he looks unimpressed. Still, he plays along. “Rem would be one of those blokes who eat fire, likely.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh. 

See, you can have fun! This is fun, right? But then your film comes back on, and you all lapse into silence again. 

“James would’ve never let us watch this,” you say after a few minutes. “He’d have made us pick a comedy or something.” 

“And he would’ve been right,” Sirius agrees. “This is fucking bleak.” 

“It’s not so bad,” Remus says, making you and Sirius exchange a look. For as much as James loves Remus, he’s most often the victim of his film vetoes. Remus’ taste is bleak. 

It’s another few minutes before an actress on-screen says a line, and Remus clears his throat awkwardly. 

“That’s what she said.” 

You and Sirius look at him with a mixture of befuddlement and alarm. 

“What?” He shifts in his seat. “I’m trying to fill a gap.” 

Sirius appears scandalized. “James’ jokes are far more advanced than that.” 

“He said ‘that’s what she said’ just last week.” 

“Yes, but in a completely different context!” 

“We could call him,” you point out. 

Remus’ expression creases longingly. “No, he’s been in meetings all day. I’m sure he’ll want to rest.” 

But Sirius clicks the speaker button on his phone, letting the dial tone play aloud. Remus looks almost relieved. 

James picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” 

“Hi,” you all say loudly, voices each trying to be heard over the others. 

“We need you to come home,” Sirius whines. 

“What?” James sounds closer to the speaker now, like he’s holding the phone tight to his face. “Is everything okay?” 

“Don’t say that,” Remus hisses at Sirius. “Everything’s fine, Jamie.” 

“We just miss you,” you clarify. 

“Oh.” The relief is obvious in your boyfriend’s voice, and you notice your other two boyfriends smiling fondly at the sound of it. You think your own expression probably looks just about as humiliatingly smitten. “Awe. I miss you guys, too. Like crazy, you have no idea.” 

“I think we have some.” Sirius raises a brow at the phone. “Rem just tried to make a ‘that’s what she said’ joke.” 

A sharp cough crackles through the speaker. “Did he? How did it go?” 

“Poorly.” 

“Ah, well.” You can practically feel the warmth of James’ smile from hundreds of miles away. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll work on it when I get back.” 

“I’d rather not do it again, actually,” Remus grumbles. 

“How was your day?” You lean on Sirius’ shoulder again, getting close to the phone like James is contained within it. 

“Boring,” he says emphatically. “I got told off by some old woman for tapping my pen on my pad too loudly while someone was giving a presentation. The hotel they’ve put us up in isn’t bad, though. Free breakfast in the morning to get us energized for another day or torment.” 

“Ooh, could you see if they have those little blueberry muffins?” Sirius asks. “And if they do, wrap me up a few to bring home with you.”

“Sirius,” Remus chides. 

“I’ll check,” James agrees easily. “Rem, do you want some chocolate ones if they have those?” 

If James could see the way your boyfriend flushes pink, he’d be grinning ear to ear. “Yes, please,” Remus replies. 

“Brilliant. And for you, lovie?” 

“I’ll just mooch off of Sirius’ blueberry ones.” You snicker when Sirius gasps, sneaking a hand around your waist to pinch at your middle. 

“Oh, perfect,” says James. “I’ll make sure to grab a few less, then, so you can really fight over them.”

“Prick,” Sirius accuses. 

“Love you, too. So, how was everyone else’s day?” 

You catch yourself smiling a second before seeing a similarly contented expression reflected on Sirius’ face. Remus moves from his armchair to the couch, and you all lean into the phone as you tell him. 

[nerdycheol]

Sunsets In December

🎄Pairing: architect major!mingyu x literature major!f reader

🎄Word count: 10k

🎄Genre: college au, strangers to friends to lovers, romance, fluff

note: Finally here!! My first time writing this big of a fic. Exams were on my head so this is heaviiiiiily unedited. Hope you guys enjoy.

reblogs and feedback is appreciated

taglist: @eyearebee @woo-yuli @gyuguys @syluslittlecrows @reiofsuns2001 @archivegyu @jkslvsnella @minwonwoozi @minvxq @somber-reads @caibeauchicfashion 

The winter landscape appeared like a symphony veiled in frost, with everything shimmering beneath the moonlight. Clouds piled upon each other, painting a picturesque scene. However, your current sentiments were far from appreciating its beauty.

You stuffed your hands deep into the pockets of your padded jacket, feeling the warmth slowly seep into your fingers, easing the tension from the cold. A frosty breath escaped your lips as you quickened your pace toward the entrance of your dorm, your mind already set on finding solace under your covers.

As you pushed the door open, the familiar buzz of your roommate Minjeong’s voice greeted you. She was wrapping up a phone call, her tone unusually animated. “She’ll be there,” she said, hanging up just as her eyes landed on you. A wide grin spread across her face. “My girl has arrived!”

You narrowed your eyes, suspicion bubbling up. Dropping your bag on the bed, you asked cautiously, “Why are you so chirpy? You’re never this chirpy. What’s going on?”

Minjeong’s grin turned downright mischievous as she stepped closer. “You know Mingyu, right?” Your nose scrunched involuntarily at the mention of his name. “That architecture major? Yeah, he’s impossible to avoid. It’s like he’s everywhere—always talking too much and smiling like he’s on a toothpaste commercial.”

Minjeong let out a laugh, waving off your complaints. “He’s not that bad...” she said, dragging out the words, clearly softening you up for something. Your arms crossed over your chest. “Why are we talking about him? What’s he done now?”

Her grin grew wider. “So, Jihoon told me Mingyu’s been pestering him to set you two up. And, well... you have a date!”

“No.” You didn’t hesitate, pulling your blanket over your head and cocooning yourself. “Oh, come on!” Minjeong tugged at the blanket, her voice brimming with excitement. “He’s been waiting for ages to meet you properly!” “That’s his problem, not mine,” you muttered from beneath the covers.

“But I promised Jihoon!” she argued, yanking the blanket halfway off, leaving your legs exposed to the cold. A shiver ran down your spine, and with a groan, you peeked out. “When?” “Tomorrow,” she said brightly. “I have class.” “It’s Saturday,” she countered, looking way too pleased with herself. It hit you then—she had planned this all along.

You sighed, burying your face in your pillow. “Fine, I’ll go. But don’t expect me to like him or enjoy it. This is all on you.”

____

The next morning, the sound of your door slamming open woke you from a restless sleep. Minjeong entered, armed with an array of clothes and a sparkle in her eye. “Rise and shine! We’ve got work to do!”

You groaned, rolling over to face the wall. “I’m not in the mood, Minjeong.” She wasn’t having it. “You’re going. And if you’re going, you’re going to look fabulous.”

“I’ll wear jeans and a hoodie,” you replied flatly, still hoping she’d drop the whole thing. “Absolutely not,” she said with authority, dragging you out of bed. “You’re meeting the Mingyu. At least pretend to make an effort.”

You rolled your eyes but allowed her to shove various outfits into your hands. As you tried on each one, you dismissed them with a bored shrug. “This is pointless. He’s not going to care what I wear, and I don’t care either.”

Minjeong crossed her arms, her lips twitching with amusement. “You’ll care when you see the look on his face.” “Yeah, sure,” you muttered, trying not to imagine Mingyu’s dumb, overly cheerful expression.

An hour later, after much convincing, Minjeong had settled on an outfit for you—stylish but simple enough that you wouldn’t feel out of place. “Now for makeup!” she declared, presenting an arsenal of brushes and palettes. “Minjeong, I don’t even want to go. Do we really need to do this?” you asked, watching her with growing exasperation.

“Yes,” she replied firmly. “If you’re going to suffer through this, you might as well look good doing it.”

As she worked on your face, you couldn’t help but sigh. The brush tickled slightly as it swept across your cheeks, and the faint scent of foundation lingered in the air. “This better be worth it,” you grumbled, earning a soft laugh from her.

“Oh, it will be,” she replied confidently, adding the final touches.

When she was done, you had to admit she had a point. The reflection staring back at you in the mirror looked polished yet still very much like yourself. “Alright, let’s get this over with,” you muttered, grabbing your bag.

Minjeong grinned, pulling you into a hug before you left. “Have fun! Or don’t. But I need details when you’re back!”

As you stepped out, dread settled deep in your stomach. Mingyu wasn’t your type—always too loud, too present, and frankly too much. But you couldn’t say no to Minjeong. Hesitantly, you dragged yourself forward, already counting the minutes until you could come back and hide under your blankets again.

------

The café was cozy, with warm lighting and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. You sat at a small table by the window, fingers wrapped around your cup of tea, trying to stave off the nervous energy that had settled in your chest. This was supposed to be just a simple date, but your mind kept racing with thoughts of how awkward it was all going to be.

Mingyu arrived fashionably late, as usual. He flashed a bright, eager smile as he slid into the seat across from you. "Sorry I'm late! I got caught in traffic," he said, a bit out of breath but still radiating energy.

You simply nodded, offering a polite smile. You didn’t have the heart to explain that it didn’t matter, as you’d been sitting there for only a few minutes. "No problem," you said softly, trying to keep the conversation light.

He didn't seem to pick up on your lack of enthusiasm. "I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long. I kept pestering Jihoon—god knows how irritated he is when I’m around him now?" His words came out in a rush, and you could already feel the pace of the conversation picking up faster than you were ready for. You laughed half-heartedly, not sure how to continue this conversation.

"You major in literature, right? You must be super creative, huh?" he asked, offering his hand for a handshake, his other hand already grabbing the menu. His eyes sparkled with genuine interest, but his voice was almost too enthusiastic, too loud for your liking.

You nodded, trying to smile without overcommitting. "I guess. I mean, I enjoy reading," you said, your tone more reserved than you’d like. You could already feel the disconnect—his high energy clashed with your more laid-back nature.

You paused when the waiter brought his coffee.

Mingyu didn’t seem to notice. “I totally get that! I mean, I like reading too, but I love movies better—especially action-packed ones. Ever seen that one with the building that—” His words were cut off by a loud splat, and you watched in horror as he knocked his coffee cup over, spilling it all over his shirt.

"Ah, shoot!" he exclaimed, jumping back slightly, but only succeeding in making the mess worse. He tried to clean it up with a napkin, but all it did was smear the coffee further, leaving a dark stain across his chest.

You bit back a smile at the sight of his flustered expression but quickly masked it, feeling guilty for finding it amusing. "Are you alright?" you asked, your tone softening slightly.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m good!" He laughed awkwardly, standing up to get more napkins. "Just, uh, classic Mingyu move, right? Always a disaster in the making."

You glanced at him, unsure if you should laugh or not. "It’s fine," you offered, trying to comfort him, but it didn’t seem to make things any less awkward.

The conversation fell into a lull. You both sat there for a moment, the noise of the café around you filling the silence. Mingyu looked a little embarrassed, but his infectious energy didn’t falter for long.

"So," he said, clearing his throat, "how about we go somewhere else after this? I know a cool spot nearby, really chill vibe, perfect for unwinding!"

You glanced at him, not sure how to respond. His enthusiasm was overwhelming, and you didn’t exactly feel the urge to go along with it. "I actually have to head back soon," you said, offering a polite but firm smile.

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your quick refusal. "Oh… okay. I understand." His smile faltered a bit, and he reached for his drink again, taking a large gulp.

The rest of the date passed in an awkward haze. He tried to keep the conversation going, but his words felt like they were hitting a wall. You couldn’t muster the energy to match his enthusiasm, and he seemed to pick up on the distance between you two.

When the check arrived, neither of you said much. You paid for your tea, giving a polite smile as you stood up. "Thanks for meeting me," you said, a little unsure how to wrap up the evening.

While walking out of the café, you stumbled slightly, adjusting your heel. Mingyu noticed your discomfort but didn’t say anything.

Standing beside you, his face flushed from the chaos of the date, he offered a shy smile. "Yeah, no problem. Maybe… we could try again sometime?"

You hesitated, looking at him for a moment. "I don’t think so," you said, the words coming out more bluntly than you intended.

He seemed surprised, but he quickly recovered. "Right. Well, it was nice meeting you, at least. Take care."

You nodded and turned to leave, feeling the weight of the awkwardness settle behind you. As you stepped out of the café and into the chilly night air, you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. It had definitely been a first date to remember—but not in the way anyone would hope.

As you parted ways, Mingyu watched you walk away. Just as you turned the corner, he suddenly ran into a nearby convenience store.

You were halfway to your dorm when you heard someone calling your name. Turning around, you saw Mingyu jogging toward you, slightly out of breath.

"I—I noticed your heel was bothering you earlier," he said, holding up a small pack of band-aids. "These can help with... the shoe bite."

Surprised, you watched as he kneeled down. "You don’t have to—" you started, but he was already gently slipping the band-aid onto the back of your heel.

“There. Better?” he asked, looking up with a small smile. You nodded, taken aback by his thoughtfulness.

The moment lingered, quiet but comfortable, as the faint sounds of the bustling campus filled the background. Mingyu glanced at his watch and hesitated before speaking again. “Can I walk you back to your dorm? It’s late.”

You blinked, surprised by the offer, but the genuine concern in his voice made you nod. “Sure, that’d be nice.”

As you walked together, the chilly air wrapped around you, but Mingyu’s steady presence felt like a buffer against the cold. The conversation was light, dipping between small observations and moments of silence that didn’t feel awkward but instead comforting.

When you reached the entrance to your dorm, you turned to him, pausing for a moment. “Mingyu, thank you for the band-aid. And… I hope to see you again,” you said softly, the sincerity in your tone surprising even yourself.

Mingyu’s face lit up. "You mean that?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips.

As you stepped inside, he pumped his fist in the air and muttered, "Yes!" under his breath, walking away with a newfound spring in his step.

A week had passed since the awkward coffee date with Mingyu. You hadn't expected to see him again, and honestly, you weren’t sure if you wanted to. Yet, as you walked to the library that Saturday afternoon, there he was, standing outside the entrance, his tall frame unmistakable.

Mingyu spotted you almost instantly. His eyes lit up, and he waved enthusiastically. "Hey! What are the odds?" he called out, jogging up to you.

You paused mid-step, caught off guard. "Oh... hi," you said, your voice uncertain.

"Studying?" he asked, gesturing toward the building.

"Yeah," you replied, clutching your bag a little tighter. "It’s quieter here than at the dorm."

He grinned. "I get that. Mind if I join you? I have some work to finish too."

You hesitated. The memory of your last meeting flashed in your mind, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for another round of Mingyu’s boundless energy. Still, his hopeful expression made it hard to refuse.

"Sure," you said finally, leading the way inside.

The two of you found a quiet corner near the windows. Mingyu pulled out a sketchbook, surprising you. He caught your curious glance and held it up towards you with a smile. "We’ve got a big project due soon, so I thought I’d get some work done." he explained.

You nodded, slightly intrigued. As you opened your notebook, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. He was focused, his pencil gliding across the page with surprising precision. It was a stark contrast to the clumsy, overly energetic version of him you’d seen before.

"Are you working on a story?" Mingyu’s voice broke the silence.

You blinked, realizing he was looking at your open notebook. "No, just notes for class," you said, quickly flipping to another page.

"Literature must be so interesting," he said sincerely. "Do you write, too?"

"Sometimes," you admitted, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

"That’s cool. I’d love to read something you’ve written."

You laughed lightly. "I don’t think it’s your kind of thing."

"Try me," he said, his tone playful but curious.

Before you could reply, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at it, frowning slightly.

"Everything okay?" you asked.

"Yeah, just Jihoon being Jihoon," he said, brushing it off. "He says I’m procrastinating too much."

"Is he wrong?" you teased before you could stop yourself.

Mingyu laughed, the sound drawing a few annoyed glances from nearby tables. "Probably not. But hey, I’m here now, right?"

The conversation flowed more easily after that. You found yourself relaxing, even laughing at some of his stories about his friends and their antics. He had a way of making you forget your initial awkwardness, his warmth and enthusiasm proving to be infectious in small doses.

As the afternoon turned to evening, you packed up your things, feeling lighter than you had in days.

"Thanks for letting me crash your study session," Mingyu said as you both walked out of the library. "You weren’t too bad," you replied, surprising yourself with the playful tone.

He grinned. "High praise coming from you."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile.

"Let me walk you back," he offered, falling into step beside you.

This time, you didn’t hesitate.

-------

A week had passed since your second meeting with Mingyu at the library. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something about him lingered in your thoughts—his unfiltered enthusiasm, the way his face lit up when he talked about his projects, and, oddly enough, how easily he seemed to brighten the atmosphere wherever he went.

It was late afternoon when Minjeong barged into your dorm, her usual whirlwind of energy filling the room. She dropped onto your bed with a dramatic sigh, tossing her bag aside.

"You won’t believe this," she started, grinning mischievously.

"Believe what?" you asked, glancing up from your laptop.

"Jihoon’s taking me to some event on campus tonight. And guess who’s coming?"

You frowned, already suspecting the answer. "Mingyu?"

"Bingo! He’s been pestering Jihoon to invite you too," she said, sitting up with a sly smile. "You should come. It'll be fun!"

You hesitated, unsure if you wanted to see Mingyu again so soon. "I don’t know... I’m not great with crowds."

Minjeong rolled her eyes. "It’s not a crowd. It’s a small gathering, and I’ll be there. Besides, it won’t kill you to socialize a little. Think of it as a chance to loosen up."

Reluctantly, you agreed, though you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was the faint curiosity about Mingyu or simply the inability to say no to Minjeong’s persistent cheerfulness.

_____

The "event" turned out to be more casual than you’d expected—a small group of students gathered in a common room, chatting, laughing, and sharing snacks. Mingyu spotted you almost immediately, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning.

"You came!" he exclaimed, weaving through the group to reach you. "I didn’t think you’d show up."

"Minjeong convinced me," you said, trying to downplay the awkwardness of the moment.

"Well, I’m glad she did." He grinned, holding out a cup of juice. "Here. No coffee disasters this time, I promise."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, taking the cup. "Thanks."

As the evening went on, you found yourself drawn into conversations more easily than you expected. Mingyu had a way of pulling you into his orbit, his excitement infectious as he introduced you to his friends and shared funny stories.

At some point, you noticed him fiddling with a small notebook, jotting down notes or sketches whenever he had a moment to himself. Curiosity got the better of you.

"Always working, huh?" you teased lightly, nodding toward the notebook.

He looked up, slightly flustered. "Oh, this? Just some ideas I didn’t want to forget."

"Can I see?" you asked, surprising even yourself.

He hesitated for a moment before handing it over. The pages were filled with intricate sketches of buildings, detailed floor plans, and even small doodles in the margins.

"You’re really talented," you said genuinely, flipping through the pages.

Mingyu scratched the back of his neck, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Thanks. It’s just... something I really love doing."

As you handed the notebook back, you realized that his passion for architecture wasn’t just about work—it was a part of who he was. And for the first time, you found yourself wanting to know more about him.

----

Later that night, as you walked back to your dorm with Minjeong, she nudged you playfully. "You seemed to have a good time tonight."

"It was... better than I expected," you admitted.

She smirked knowingly. "Mingyu has that effect on people. You like him, don’t you?"

You rolled your eyes. "I barely know him."

"Maybe, but it’s a start," she said with a wink before disappearing into her room.

As you lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t shake the thought of Mingyu’s sketches and the way his smile had seemed so genuine. Maybe Minjeong was right—maybe it was a start.

The days following the gathering had been surprisingly uneventful. Mingyu hadn’t reached out, and you found yourself wondering why that bothered you. Minjeong, of course, had her theories.

"You’re just not used to someone like him," she said over breakfast one morning, munching on a piece of toast.

"Someone like him?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"You know, overly friendly, a little clumsy, but so sweet that you can’t help but like him," she said with a grin.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. It was hard to deny Mingyu’s charm, even if you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

---

That afternoon, you were sitting on a bench in the campus park, a book in your lap, when a shadow fell across your page. Looking up, you found Mingyu standing there, holding two cups of coffee.

"Hey," he said, smiling sheepishly. "I wasn’t sure if you liked coffee, but I figured it was worth a shot."

You blinked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I was passing by and saw you," he admitted, handing you a cup. "Figured I’d say hi. Mind if I sit?"

You gestured to the empty spot beside you. "Go ahead."

As he sat down, he glanced at your book. "What are you reading?"

You held it up, showing him the title. He nodded thoughtfully, though you doubted he recognized it.

"Looks... deep," he said, scratching the back of his neck.

You chuckled. "It’s not. Just something for class."

He sipped his coffee, his gaze wandering over the park. "I like this spot. It’s peaceful." You nodded, surprised by the calmness in his voice. For once, he wasn’t bubbling over with energy, and it made the conversation feel easier.

"Do you come here often?" he asked after a moment.

"Sometimes," you admitted. "It’s a good place to clear my head."

He smiled. "I get that. There’s a rooftop near my dorm where I like to sketch. It’s quiet, and the view’s amazing."

You glanced at him, intrigued. "You sketch outside?"

"Yeah. The light’s better, and it helps me focus. Maybe I could show you sometime?" he offered, his tone casual but hopeful.

You hesitated, caught off guard by the invitation. "Maybe."

He grinned. "I’ll take that as a yes."

---

The conversation shifted to lighter topics—favorite movies, embarrassing childhood memories, and the quirks of your professors. To your surprise, Mingyu was a good listener, genuinely interested in what you had to say.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, you realized how much time had passed.

"I should probably get going," you said, standing up and brushing off your jeans.

Mingyu stood too, looking a little reluctant. "Can I walk you back?"

"Sure."

The walk was quiet but comfortable, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. When you reached your dorm, he stopped at the bottom of the steps, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Thanks for letting me crash your reading time," he said with a lopsided smile.

"It wasn’t so bad," you said, surprising both him and yourself.

His smile widened. "I’ll see you around?"

"Yeah," you said softly before heading inside.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Minjeong was right—maybe you were starting to like him, just a little.

-----

It was a couple of days before you saw Mingyu again. Between classes and assignments, life had been hectic, but a text from him caught you off guard one evening.

Mingyu: "Busy tomorrow afternoon? Got something to show you."

You stared at the message, debating your response before you typed back:

You: "Not busy. What is it?"

Mingyu: "You’ll see. Meet me outside the library at 3?"

----

The next day, you found Mingyu leaning against a lamppost near the library, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked up and grinned when he spotted you.

"Right on time," he said, pushing off the pole.

"I’m curious about what’s so important," you replied, crossing your arms.

"Patience," he said, leading you toward the dorm buildings.

You followed him, confusion growing as he guided you to a side entrance. After climbing a couple of flights of stairs, he pushed open a door, revealing the rooftop he’d mentioned.

The ascent up the stairs was challenging, but it was all worth it. The view was breathtaking. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the campus. A light breeze rustled your hair as you stepped closer to the edge, taking it all in.

"This is where you sketch?" you asked, glancing at him.

"Yup," he said, pulling out his sketchbook and a pencil. "Told you it’s a great spot."

You watched as he settled down, flipping to a blank page. His expression shifted, becoming more focused, and you were struck by how different he seemed in this moment—calmer, almost serene.

"Want to see?" he asked, noticing your gaze.

"See what?"

"What I’m working on," he said, holding up the sketchbook. You sat beside him. The page showed the beginnings of a building, its lines sharp and precise. Even unfinished, it was impressive. "This is amazing," you said sincerely.

He smiled, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Thanks. It’s for a project we’re working on in class. Still a long way to go, though."

"You’re really talented," you said, meaning it.

"Thanks," he said, glancing at you. "You know, I was nervous about showing you this."

"Why?"

He shrugged, looking back at the sketch. "I don’t know. I guess I wanted you to like it." Your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. 

"I do like it," you said softly.

The two of you fell into a companionable silence after that, the only sounds coming from the scratch of his pencil and the occasional rustle of the wind.

---

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Mingyu set down his pencil and leaned back, stretching his arms above his head. "Thanks for coming," he said, glancing at you. "It’s nice having company up here."

You nodded, surprised at how much you’d enjoyed the afternoon.

"I should probably head back," you said reluctantly, standing up.

"I’ll walk you," he said immediately, packing up his things.

The walk back to your dorm was quiet but comfortable, the kind of silence that felt natural. When you reached your door, Mingyu hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something.

"Hey," he said finally. "Would you… maybe want to grab dinner sometime? Like, just the two of us?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. 

"I mean, no pressure," he added quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "I just thought it might be fun."

You considered him for a moment before nodding. "Sure. Why not?"

His face lit up, and he smiled so brightly that you couldn’t help but smile back.

"Great," he said, stepping back. "I’ll text you!"

As he walked away, you leaned against the door, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. 

You didn’t think much of it when Mingyu texted you early in the morning the next day: “Are you free today?” You replied with a quick, “Depends. Why?”

Moments later, your phone buzzed again: “Meet me at the art museum. 11 a.m. Trust me, it’ll be worth it 😉.”

You stared at the message, debating if you wanted to spend your Saturday surrounded by centuries-old paintings and sculptures. But the thought of Mingyu’s excitement—and his likely terrible attempts at interpreting art—was oddly compelling.

When you arrived at the museum, he was waiting outside, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. His face lit up as soon as he saw you.

“You came!” he exclaimed, jogging over to you.

“You told me to,” you said, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck. “So, what’s the plan, art connoisseur?”

He grinned, stepping aside to reveal two tickets in his hand. “There’s a special exhibit on architectural influences in classical art. Thought it might inspire both of us—me for my designs and you for your writing.”

You blinked, pleasantly surprised. “That’s… surprisingly thoughtful of you.”

“Surprisingly?” he repeated, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know, I’m always thoughtful.”

“Sure, Mingyu,” you said, rolling your eyes but following him inside.

The museum was quiet, the kind of serene atmosphere that encouraged hushed conversations and slow, deliberate movements. You walked side by side through the exhibit, pausing to admire the intricate details in the paintings and sculptures.

Mingyu’s commentary was as expected—part insightful, part ridiculous. “That statue over there?” he whispered, leaning closer. “Definitely inspired by me. Look at those proportions.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “The statue is of a Greek god, Mingyu. Not everything is about you.”

“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “I think there’s a resemblance.”

Despite his antics, there were moments when his genuine passion for art shone through. He spoke with animated gestures about the structural elements in the paintings, pointing out the use of symmetry and balance in ways that made you see them differently.

“You’re really good at this,” you said as he finished explaining the perspective in a Renaissance piece.

He tilted his head, grinning. “Good at what? Being brilliant?”

“Good at making things interesting,” you clarified, smiling.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you with that same soft expression he’d been wearing more often lately. It made your stomach flip, though you didn’t let it show.

The exhibit ended with a large installation—a series of sculptures arranged to create the illusion of movement when viewed from different angles. Mingyu stood beside you, his gaze fixed on the display.

“It’s amazing how art can feel alive, isn’t it?” he said quietly.

You nodded, watching the way the light played across the sculptures. “It’s like it tells a story without words.”

He turned to you, his voice softer. “Kind of like us, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was joking. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… we’re figuring out our own story,” he said, his usual bravado replaced by something more sincere. “And I think it’s turning out pretty great.”

For once, you didn’t hesitate. You smiled, meeting his gaze. “Yeah. I think so too.”

The moment lingered, and you were acutely aware of how close he was standing, the warmth of his presence cutting through the chill of the museum.

“So,” he said after a pause, his playful grin returning. “Ready for the next part of the day?”

“There’s more?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Always,” he said, winking. “Come on. You’ll love it.”

_______

Mingyu didn’t give you much information about the “next part” of the day. He just kept walking with an air of mystery, glancing over his shoulder every now and then to make sure you were still following.

“Mingyu, where are we going?” you asked for the third time, narrowing your eyes at his broad back.

“You’ll see,” he said with a mischievous grin, turning a corner.

When he finally stopped, you found yourself in front of a quaint little café tucked away in a quiet alley. The smell of freshly baked pastries wafted out as Mingyu held the door open for you.

“You brought me to a café?” you asked, stepping inside.

“Not just any café,” he said, guiding you toward a table near the back. “This place is special.”

You looked around. It seemed ordinary enough—warm lighting, cozy décor, soft chatter in the background. “What’s so special about it?”

Mingyu sat down across from you, pulling a small menu from the holder on the table. “They have a rooftop garden. Great view, amazing vibe. Plus…” He hesitated, suddenly looking sheepish.

“Plus what?” you prompted, amused by his sudden change in demeanor.

He cleared his throat. “Plus, I wanted to spend more time with you. Somewhere quieter.” It was rare for Mingyu to say things like that without a teasing edge, and you weren’t sure how to respond.

Before you could say anything, the waiter arrived, and Mingyu quickly ordered for both of you—a couple of their signature drinks and a plate of pastries.

“Wait, how do you know what I want?” you asked after the waiter left.

He leaned back in his chair, smirking. “I pay attention.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

After a few minutes, he led you upstairs to the rooftop. The view was indeed stunning—the city stretched out before you, lights twinkling against the evening sky. Small fairy lights were strung around the garden, casting a warm glow over the space.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” you said as you sat down on one of the benches, “this is pretty nice.”

“Only pretty nice?” Mingyu teased, sitting beside you.

“Don’t push it,” you warned, though your smile gave you away.

For a while, the two of you just sat there, sipping your drinks and enjoying the quiet. It was a stark contrast to the usual chaos of your interactions, but it felt… natural.

“So,” Mingyu said after a while, breaking the silence. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but never had the chance to?”

You tilted your head, caught off guard by the question. “That’s random.”

“Humor me,” he said, his tone light but his expression serious.

You thought for a moment. “Well… I’ve always wanted to go on a spontaneous trip. Just pack a bag and leave, no plans, no schedule.”

Mingyu’s eyes lit up. “That sounds awesome. We should do that sometime.”

You laughed. “We?”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “Why not? You pick the place, I’ll take care of everything else.”

“You’re serious?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Dead serious,” he said, leaning closer. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little adventure.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, winking.

As the night wore on, you found yourself relaxing more and more in his presence. There was something about the way he made everything feel easy, like you didn’t have to put up walls or second-guess yourself.

When it was time to leave, Mingyu insisted on walking you back to your dorm.

“Are you sure?” you asked as you stepped onto the sidewalk. “It’s out of your way.”

“It’s fine,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I like walking with you.”

You didn’t argue, falling into step beside him. The streets were quiet, and the cool night air carried a hint of winter.

“Thanks for today,” you said after a while. “I didn’t think I’d enjoy myself this much.”

“Is that your way of admitting I’m fun to be around?” he teased.

“Don’t push your luck,” you said, nudging him lightly.

When you reached your dorm, he hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something.

“What?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, then added with a grin, “Goodnight, ___.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu,” you said softly, watching as he turned and walked away.

As you stepped inside, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Whatever this thing between you and Mingyu was, it was starting to feel a lot less complicated—and a lot more like something worth holding on to.

The sharp winter air nipped at your cheeks as you stepped out of the lecture hall, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck. Snow had started to dust the campus grounds, crunching softly beneath your boots as you descended the steps.

At first, you almost didn’t notice Mingyu, bundled in a thick coat and leaning casually against a lamppost just outside the building. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, but his grin was as warm as ever when your eyes met. He straightened up, holding out a steaming cup of coffee toward you.

“Surprise,” he said, his breath visible in the crisp air.

You blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d save you from the freezing walk to the café,” he replied smoothly. “Your professor doesn’t seem like the type to end classes early, so I figured you’d need this.”

You hesitated, keeping your hands buried deep in your coat pockets. “You waited out here in this cold?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m practically a human heater,” he said, flashing a toothy smile and giving the coffee cup a little shake. “Go on, take it. It’s your favorite.”

The warmth seeped into your fingers as you accepted the cup, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible in a charming way, right?” he teased, falling into step beside you as you began walking.

You smiled at him, and before you could respond, your phone buzzed. Glancing at the screen, you saw a message from Minjeong. “Minjeong just texted. She wants to meet at the café. Want to come?”

“Lead the way m’lady.”

The café was bustling when you arrived. Jihoon and Minjeong were already seated in a cozy corner. Minjeong waved enthusiastically as you approached, while Jihoon offered a small nod, his usual reserved self.

“Took you long enough,” Minjeong teased as you slid into the seat beside her. “Were you two busy planning your next cute outing?”

You rolled your eyes, though a slight blush crept onto your cheeks. Mingyu, ever unfazed, leaned back in his chair and smirked. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

Minjeong grinned, leaning into Jihoon’s side. “Nothing. Just curious. Right, Jihoon?” Jihoon glanced at her, his expression softening. “Sure.” He reached for her hand under the table, a subtle but affectionate gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

The conversation flowed easily, Mingyu’s boisterous energy balancing Jihoon’s quiet demeanor. Minjeong’s playful remarks kept everyone laughing, and you found yourself relaxing even more, enjoying the warmth of the group.

At one point, Minjeong leaned closer to you. “You know, Jihoon’s been working on a new song. He won’t let me hear it yet, though. Says it’s a surprise.”

You glanced at Jihoon, who looked uncharacteristically sheepish. “Is that true?” you asked, curious.

Jihoon shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “It’s not ready.”

Minjeong beamed. “He’s so modest. But I know it’s going to be amazing.” She squeezed his hand, and he finally met her eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Mingyu, not one to miss an opportunity to tease, leaned forward. “Wow, Jihoon, you’re setting the bar high for the rest of us. How am I supposed to compete with that?”

“You could start by not spilling coffee on yourself,” Jihoon retorted, earning a burst of laughter from the table.

As the afternoon wore on, the four of you lingered, the café’s warmth and camaraderie making it hard to leave. When it was finally time to go, Minjeong linked arms with you, pulling you aside as the boys walked ahead.

“You and Mingyu seem close,” she said, her tone light but knowing.

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Good. He’s a good one. Just don’t let him talk you into any crazy ideas.”

You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the winter air. As you rejoined the group, Mingyu turned to you, his smile as bright as ever.

As you rejoined the group, Mingyu turned to you, his smile as bright as ever. “Everything okay?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, his breath visible in the cold air.

“Yeah,” you replied, glancing at Minjeong, who gave you a subtle wink before slipping her arm back through Jihoon’s. The two of them walked ahead, their laughter blending with the gentle hum of the evening.

Mingyu fell into step beside you, his hands buried in his coat pockets. “So,” he began, his voice softer now that it was just the two of you, “what crazy ideas does Minjeong think I’ll talk you into?”

You laughed, the sound light against the winter air. “I don’t know, but knowing you, it could be anything.”

“Anything, huh?” He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it manageable. No mountain climbing in the snow… yet.”

“Yet?” you repeated, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievable in a charming way, though,” he countered, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You didn’t respond immediately, your gaze drawn to the snowflakes drifting lazily from the sky. Mingyu slowed his pace to match yours, the comfortable silence between you more telling than any words could be.

Ahead of you, Minjeong and Jihoon paused near a small park bench, the snow-covered scene illuminated by the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp. Jihoon pulled Minjeong closer, brushing a stray snowflake from her hair with a tenderness that made you smile.

“Those two,” Mingyu murmured, his voice low. “It’s nice to see them so happy.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, watching as Minjeong tilted her head up to Jihoon, her laughter bright and clear even from a distance.

Mingyu turned to you, his gaze lingering for a moment before he spoke. “You know, seeing them makes me wonder…”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Wonder what?”

He hesitated, a rare flicker of uncertainty crossing his face before his usual confidence returned. “Just… how some people make it look so easy. Like they already know how to fit into each other’s lives.”

His words hung in the air, delicate and unspoken yet heavy with meaning. You didn’t know what to say, so you opted for honesty. “I don’t think it’s about knowing. I think it’s about trying, about showing up for each other.”

Mingyu studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “You’re pretty good at that, you know. Showing up.”

A flush crept up your cheeks, and you weren’t sure if it was from the cold or his words. Before you could respond, Minjeong called out, waving you both over.

“Are you two coming, or are we leaving you behind?” she teased, her voice carrying easily through the crisp air.

Mingyu chuckled, stepping closer to you. “Guess that’s our cue.”

You nodded, letting him walk slightly ahead before glancing back at the lamppost where he’d waited for you earlier. The memory of his grin, his thoughtfulness, and his presence stayed with you as you followed him and the others into the evening.

_________

The next few days flew by in a flurry of snow and assignments, but Mingyu’s presence became an increasingly regular—and welcome—part of your routine. Whether it was his casual texts asking if you’d eaten or his sudden appearances outside your lecture hall with coffee in hand, he had a way of brightening even the coldest winter days.

One evening, after a particularly grueling study session in the library, your phone buzzed. You glanced at the screen to see Mingyu’s name.

Mingyu: Look outside.

Your brows furrowed, but you pushed yourself up from the desk and walked over to the window. There he was, standing in the snowy courtyard below, waving like a dork.

You: What are you doing here? It’s freezing!

Mingyu: Rescuing you from your books. Let’s go for a walk.

It was hard to say no to him, especially when he was grinning like that. Grabbing your coat and scarf, you met him outside. The snow was falling heavier now, the flakes catching in his dark hair as he offered you a mischievous smile.

“Don’t you have assignments to finish?” you teased as you fell into step beside him.

“Probably,” he admitted. “But I’d rather hang out with you.”

The campus was quiet at this hour, most students tucked away inside to escape the cold. Mingyu led you toward the park near the edge of campus, where the snow blanketed the trees and paths in a serene, untouched layer of white.

“This is my favorite spot in winter,” he said, gesturing toward a bench beneath a towering oak tree. The branches were heavy with snow, and tiny icicles glimmered in the faint light of a nearby lamppost.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, sitting down beside him. The cold seeped through your coat, but Mingyu’s presence seemed to offset the chill.

For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, watching as the snow fell around you. Then, out of nowhere, you spoke.

“You know,” you began, exhaling a cloud of misty breath, “I’ve always wanted to go on a trip in winter. Somewhere quiet, with snow-covered mountains and cozy little cabins. Just… get away from everything for a while.”

Mingyu turned to you, his eyes bright with interest. “Why haven’t you?”

You shrugged, playing with the edge of your scarf. “Too busy, I guess. There’s always something—classes, work, responsibilities. It feels selfish to just drop everything and leave.”

“Selfish?” Mingyu repeated, frowning. “Wanting to take care of yourself isn’t selfish. If anything, it’s smart. Everyone needs a break sometimes.”

You looked at him, surprised by the conviction in his tone. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” he said firmly. Then, a grin spread across his face. “Besides, a trip like that sounds amazing. If you ever decide to go, let me know. I’ll carry your bags.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “You just want an excuse to escape your own responsibilities, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a wink. “But mostly, I just think it’d be fun to go with you.”

The walk back to your dorm felt different, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on why. Mingyu’s hand brushed against yours more than once, and each time, it sent a jolt through you. When you reached your door, he lingered, shuffling his feet like he was debating something.

“Goodnight, ___,” he said, his voice unusually hesitant.

“Goodnight, Mingyu,” you replied, though part of you wanted him to stay.

As you turned to go inside, his voice stopped you.

“Wait, ___.”

You spun around, your heart thudding in your chest. He looked nervous, his hands stuffed deep in his coat pockets.

“I just… I really like spending time with you,” he said, his words rushing out in a single breath.

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden confession. But as the warmth of his words sank in, a smile spread across your face.

“I like spending time with you too,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing.

The relief on his face was almost comical, and he let out a soft laugh. “Good. That’s… good.” With one last smile, he turned and walked away  leaving you standing there in the cold with a heart that felt anything but that.

The room was quiet, the soft hum of the heater lulling you into a deep sleep. That was until Minjeong, with her boundless energy, shattered the peace.

“___, get up! We’re going on a trip!”

You groaned, burying your face deeper into your pillow. “Minjeong, it’s four in the morning. What are you talking about?” She tugged at your blanket, her voice insistent. “No time for small talk. Get up! I’ve already packed your bags.”

That jolted you awake. You sat up, blinking at her in disbelief. “You what?”

“Come on,” she urged, pulling you to your feet. “We’re burning moonlight!”

Despite your protests and half-hearted grumbling, Minjeong dragged you out of bed and out of your dorm. The crisp winter air hit you as you stepped outside, and you spotted a car parked nearby. Jihoon and Mingyu were already waiting, the latter leaning casually against the car door with a wide grin.

Jihoon, on the other hand, looked like he’d been dragged out of bed against his will—because he had. His messy hair and scowl said it all. “I still don’t understand why this couldn’t wait until daylight,” he muttered.

“Because spontaneity is fun!” Minjeong chirped, shoving your bag into the trunk before hopping into the backseat.

You hesitated, glancing at Mingyu. He tilted his head toward the passenger seat, his grin softening. “Come on, ___, it’ll be fun. Trust me.”

Still half-asleep and bewildered, you climbed into the car. Mingyu started the engine, and with Minjeong and Jihoon bickering quietly in the back, the four of you set off into the night.

The drive to the cabin was quiet at first, everyone too groggy to speak much. Jihoon had dozed off, his head leaning against the window, while Minjeong hummed softly to a song playing on the radio. Mingyu glanced over at you every now and then, his smile growing when he caught you staring out the window, mesmerized by the view.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” he said softly.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. Where exactly are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically, his eyes twinkling.

_____

By the time you reached the cabin nestled in the heart of a snow-covered forest, the sun had just started to rise, painting the sky in hues of pale pink and gold. The sight was breathtaking. The cabin itself was picturesque, with a rustic charm that made it feel like it had been plucked straight out of a winter postcard.

“Wow,” you breathed as you stepped out of the car, the crisp air filling your lungs. Snow crunched beneath your boots as you tilted your head back to take it all in.

Minjeong, carrying a bag that looked far too big for her, nudged you. “Told you it’d be worth it.” Even Jihoon, who had been complaining for the better part of the ride, seemed impressed as he surveyed the scene, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets.

“This is… really nice,” he admitted reluctantly, earning a triumphant grin from Minjeong.

Mingyu emerged from the driver’s side, stretching his arms over his head and exhaling a cloud of visible breath. “Wait till you see the inside,” he said, jingling the keys. “I promise, it’s even better.”

The interior of the cabin was just as cozy as the exterior. A roaring fireplace was already lit, filling the space with a warm glow. Plush couches were arranged around the hearth, and a long wooden dining table sat in the center of the room, laden with snacks Minjeong had apparently packed.

“Dibs on the couch,” Jihoon called, flopping down dramatically and closing his eyes as if he were already done for the day.

Minjeong rolled her eyes. “You can rest later. We’ve got plans.”

“We have plans?” you asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Of course we do,” she replied, hands on her hips. “But first, breakfast. I’m starving.”

Mingyu walked past with an armful of blankets, pausing to glance at you. “Make yourself comfortable. This is going to be a weekend to remember.”

And as you stood there, the warmth of the cabin enveloping you and your friends’ laughter echoing around the room, you couldn’t help but feel like he was absolutely right.

After breakfast—a hearty spread of eggs, toast, and Minjeong's insistence on making everyone try her overly sweet hot chocolate—the group settled into the cozy living room. Mingyu had taken charge of stacking more firewood by the hearth, his movements natural and unhurried. Jihoon, predictably, had reclaimed the couch, wrapped in one of the blankets Mingyu had brought out, while Minjeong scrolled through her phone. You were sitting cross-legged on one of the armchairs, the warmth of the fireplace lulling you into a rare moment of complete relaxation.

“Okay, listen up!” Minjeong’s voice cut through the calm. She jumped to her feet, brandishing her phone like a baton. “I’ve come up with the perfect itinerary for our weekend!”

Jihoon groaned audibly. “Please tell me it doesn’t involve anything before noon.”

“Relax, sleepyhead. Today’s all about taking it easy,” Minjeong reassured him, earning a relieved sigh. Then she turned to you with a sly grin. “But tomorrow, we’re going sledding.”

“Sledding?” Mingyu echoed, his brows raising in surprise as he tossed another log onto the fire.

“Yeah,” Minjeong confirmed, her excitement infectious. “There’s a perfect hill just a short drive from here. I already looked it up.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Minjeong said with a dramatic flip of her hair. “I don’t do things halfway. Besides,” she added, her gaze softening, “I wanted this to be special. For all of us.”

Jihoon cracked an eye open, his expression unreadable for a moment before he muttered, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Minjeong beamed and threw a pillow at him, which he caught with ease, his small smile betraying his amusement.

Mingyu straightened up, brushing his hands together as if to clear the dust. “Well, if sledding’s on the agenda, we’ll need to build up some energy tonight. How about a hike before dinner? There’s a trail right behind the cabin.”

“That sounds perfect,” you said, the idea of exploring the snowy woods bringing a flutter of excitement.

The group spent the rest of the day settling in, laughing over card games and teasing Jihoon when he inevitably lost. As the sun began to dip behind the trees, Mingyu and Minjeong led the way out to the trail.

The hike was breathtaking. Snow blanketed the ground, and the trees stood tall and bare, their branches etched against the deepening blue of the sky. Mingyu walked beside you, his presence steady and reassuring as the two of you fell into an easy rhythm.

“Not bad for a spontaneous trip, huh?” he asked, his breath visible in the chilly air.

“Not bad at all,” you agreed, your voice quiet as you took in the beauty of the moment.

Minjeong and Jihoon were ahead, their banter floating back to you. Minjeong’s laughter echoed through the trees, and you caught glimpses of Jihoon’s rare, soft smiles when he thought no one was looking.

“You know,” Mingyu said suddenly, his tone thoughtful, “I’m glad we did this.”

You turned to him, your footsteps slowing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip. “It feels… different. Being out here. Like we’re all exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

His words lingered in the air between you, heavy with a meaning you couldn’t quite place but didn’t feel the need to question. Instead, you let yourself smile, your cheeks warming despite the cold.

As the trail looped back toward the cabin, the glow of its lights visible through the trees, you felt a quiet kind of joy settle over you. This trip wasn’t just a break from reality—it was a reminder of how much these people, this time, meant to you.

_________

The next morning, you were woken not by Minjeong’s voice or the sound of Jihoon grumbling but by the distinct aroma of coffee wafting through the cabin. The sunlight streaming through the curtains painted the room in soft golden hues, and for a moment, you simply lay there, savoring the quiet.

A gentle knock on your door broke the silence.

“___?” Mingyu’s voice came through, low and careful. “You awake?”

Your heart fluttered at the sound. “Yeah, come in.”

The door creaked open, and Mingyu stepped inside, holding two mugs of steaming coffee. His hair was slightly tousled, and he wore a hoodie that looked far too warm and inviting for someone as effortlessly charming as him.

“Thought you might want this,” he said, handing you a mug.

You took it, the warmth seeping into your fingers. “Thanks. What’s the plan for today? Sledding, right?”

He nodded, leaning against the doorframe. “Minjeong’s already got Jihoon outside helping with the sleds. Not sure how she convinced him, but he’s doing it.”

You laughed softly, picturing Jihoon’s reluctant expression. “She has her ways.”

“True,” Mingyu said, his smile widening. “But I wanted to check in with you first. You okay with all this? The trip, the chaos… the early mornings?”

You looked at him, surprised by the question. “Yeah, I’m more than okay. I’m glad we’re here. Feels like a break we all needed.”

He seemed satisfied with your answer, his eyes softening. “Good. Let’s head out, then. The snow’s perfect for sledding.”

The hill was alive with laughter and the occasional shriek as the sleds raced down the slope. Minjeong was relentless, challenging everyone to see who could slide the farthest. Jihoon, despite his earlier reluctance, proved to be surprisingly competitive, much to Minjeong’s delight.

“Come on, ___!” Minjeong called out, waving you over. “You’re up next!”

You grabbed the sled, Mingyu appearing at your side almost immediately. “Need a push?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

“I can manage,” you replied, though your grin betrayed your excitement.

Mingyu crouched beside you, his hands steadying the sled. “Alright, but don’t blame me if you lose to Jihoon.”

“I won’t lose,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

The moment he let go, you felt the rush of the wind and the thrill of the descent. The world blurred around you, and by the time you reached the bottom of the hill, you were breathless and laughing, your cheeks aching from the cold and your smile.

Mingyu was already sliding down after you, his sled slightly off course but his expression triumphant. When he finally stopped beside you, he rolled off the sled dramatically, lying in the snow and grinning up at the sky.

“Okay, that was worth the early wake-up call,” he admitted, his voice light and happy.

You flopped down beside him, the snow cold but not unpleasant. “Told you so.” For a moment, the two of you lay there, the world quiet except for the distant laughter of your friends.

“This feels right,” he said softly, turning his head to look at you.

You met his gaze, your breath catching. “What does?”

“Being here. With you….all,” he replied, his voice faltering.

You didn’t know how to respond, but Mingyu didn’t seem to mind. He smiled, his expression unguarded and genuine, before sitting up and offering you a hand. “Come on. We’ve got a race to win.”

You took his hand, the warmth of his touch lingering long after he pulled you to your feet.

Later that evening, as the group gathered around the fireplace, Minjeong was regaling everyone with a dramatic retelling of her sledding victories. Jihoon sat beside her, his arm resting casually around her shoulders, his soft chuckles a quiet counterpoint to her boisterous storytelling.

Mingyu leaned closer to you, his voice low so only you could hear. “I think Jihoon’s smiling more than usual. Must be Minjeong’s influence.”

You glanced at the couple, your heart warming at the sight. “They’re good together.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu agreed, his tone thoughtful. “Kind of like us, don’t you think?”

You turned to him, your eyes widening slightly. But before you could respond, he grinned, his expression teasing. “Relax. I meant in a totally platonic, best-team-on-the-hill kind of way.”

“Sure you did,” you replied, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips.

Three days passed in a blink of an eye. The final night of the trip had arrived, and the cabin hummed with quiet excitement. Outside, a gentle snowfall added a magical touch to the wintry landscape. The four of you were gathered on the front porch, sparklers and firecrackers in hand, ready to ring in the new year. The snowfall outside had eased, leaving a soft white blanket over the ground, reflecting the flickers of light from the sparklers Minjeong twirled in her hands. She jumped around, her giggles cutting through the quiet hum of the winter night. Jihoon stood close to her, arms crossed, looking as if he were above all the chaos but unable to suppress the slight tug at the corner of his lips.

“Jihoon! Help me light this one!” Minjeong called, waving a firecracker in his direction.

“You’re going to get yourself hurt,” Jihoon muttered, but he moved to help her anyway, his hands carefully guiding hers.

You stood near the porch steps, holding a sparkler of your own, the fizzing light barely matching the warmth that spread through you. Mingyu was nearby, but you felt his presence before you saw him. He was quiet, uncharacteristically so, and when you turned to glance at him, you found him watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“What?” you asked, feeling self-conscious under his steady gaze.

“Nothing,” he said with a soft smile, stepping closer. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

He hesitated, looking up at the bursts of fireworks lighting the sky before meeting your eyes again. “Stuff. Us.”

The weight of his words settled between you, and your heart picked up a nervous rhythm. You lowered the sparkler in your hand, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. “What about us?”

Mingyu ran a hand through his hair, his usual confidence giving way to an almost boyish nervousness. “I’ve been trying to find the right time to say this, but… I guess there’s no such thing as perfect timing, huh?” He let out a small, awkward laugh, shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets.

Your curiosity spiked, but before you could speak, he stepped closer, his tall frame towering over you in a way that somehow felt protective rather than overwhelming.

“I like you, ___,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “Not in a casual, ‘you’re-my-friend’ kind of way. I mean, I like you. A lot. More than I probably should.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, all you could hear was the crackling of the sparklers Minjeong had forgotten on the snow.

“And I know we’ve been spending more time together,” he continued, his words tumbling out now, “and maybe I’ve been too obvious about it, but I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. I just needed to tell you. Even if you don’t feel the same, I—”

“Mingyu.”

He froze, his face panicked. “You don’t have to answer me now, okay? I don’t want to make this weird, and if you don’t like me back, we can just forget I said anything, and—”

“I like you too.”

The words came out so naturally that it surprised you both. Mingyu’s eyes widened, his lips parting as if he needed a moment to process what you’d just said.

“You… you do?”

You nodded, a shy smile creeping onto your face. “Yeah, I do. I just didn’t think—”

Whatever you were going to say was cut off as Mingyu let out a breathless laugh, his whole face lighting up in a way that made your stomach flip. He reached up, hesitated for a brief second, and then brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmured, his voice so soft you barely caught it.

The two of you stood there, the world around you fading into the background. Mingyu’s hand lingered near your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin as he tilted his head slightly.

“May I?” he whispered, his voice tinged with both nervousness and anticipation.

Your answer was a subtle nod, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaned in. When his lips met yours, it was everything and more—a kiss that was sweet and full of emotions he hadn’t been able to put into words.

The sound of a particularly loud firecracker made you both pull away, and you glanced over to see Minjeong jumping up and down, her sparklers lighting the space around her like a scene from a movie. Jihoon stood beside her, looking half-annoyed but undeniably endeared, his arm loosely draped around her shoulder.

“They’re going to tease us, aren’t they?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Probably,” Mingyu replied, his grin mischievous as he reached for your hand. “But I don’t care. Let them.”

As the night sky lit up with dazzling fireworks, you felt a warmth bloom in your chest, not from the cold or the firecrackers, but from the boy whose hand you held—steady, grounding, and impossibly right.

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Masterpost and Prologue

dead on main fic, intro + four chapters.

Summary: The Red Hood starts off his righteous campaign with a lot of nerve but no legal identification that will let him behind the wheel of a car. Public transportation really doesn't have the panache he needs to start off as a fearsome crime lord, so he needs a driver. He finds Danny Fenton, a grungly college student trying not to be noticed by any government agencies or vigilantes.

to subscribe to this post, on mobile open the notes and click the bell on the upper right hand corner of the post. on desktop, open the notes at the bottom and press the bell on the right edge of the notes.

Links will be added to chapter list as the story posts. Chapter one will go up on July 14th. Updates are approximately every other day.

LINKS/ chapter count

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

prologue

“No, Habibi,” Talia said calmly into the phone. “I will not falsify you an American non-commercial driver's license for motor vehicles. If you cannot prove yourself to Gotham without American motor vehicle operating permissions, you will never prove yourself. Rise above this challenge.” Talia covered the phone for a second but he could hear her talking to someone else about tile options.

“It's an unnecessary challenge,” Jason argued, doing his level best not to let his tone go up. It was undignified to whine. He was a man now. “The important parts of the challenge are the tactical planning and the skills.”

Talia sounded like she was filing her nails. “Tactically plan to take the bus. Or walk. Walking is free and healthy.” 

Jason made an indignant sound but she mercilessly hung up. The worst! She made the top three of his worst mother figures, easily.

“She's just doing this so I can't go drinking.” He scowled into the air. “I don't even want to!” His voice broke mid whine, which was an insult to add to all the injuries visited upon him by the cruel whims of women who weren't even his legal guardian. He was an adult in most countries!

The worst part was that Talia didn't care about underage drinking. She just didn't want to hear shit about enabling him from Bruce when he eventually figured out that Jason was alive, 19, and in Gotham. His passport claimed he was 21 because it had to for him to travel alone, but she knew damn well no one used their passport as ID in bars. 

He couldn't just go get a license. Jason sulked viciously and threw himself into fixing his plans to accommodate for this. 

He was legally dead and living under a fake name. If he tried to sign up for the driving exam, it'd be too much scrutiny on his paperwork. But he was not taking the bus around as a crime lord. It lacked panache. More importantly, it didn't go where he wanted it to go.

Fine. He didn't need her help. He didn't need anyone's help. He just needed to download Uber. 

That was how Jason wound up wiping a mob lieutenant’s blood off of his hand onto his pants so that he could use the guy's touch screen phone. Victor Woodward's account put in a request for a ride to the Gotham police headquarters. He killed time kicking ass in all the Words with Friends games that Victor had ongoing, which was really gonna surprise anyone who normally played with that boob. Victor’s last ever play was ‘cat,’ for fuck’s sake.

A few minutes later, a skinny teenager pulled up in his clanker and opened the door. Jason put on a smile and hefted his duffle bag a little higher on his shoulder. 

“Hi! Victor?” The guy, Danny, waved his phone at Jason.

“That's me!” Jason lied breezily. “Can I put this in the trunk?” 

“Go for it.” Danny popped the trunk open from inside the car. He watched Jason with his big blue doe eyes.

For an instant, Jason thought that Danny might have seen something. Paranoia reared up. Was there blood visible? Was it easy to tell that the shapes in the bag were heads?”

The moment passed. Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.” 

Jason got in the car and let satisfaction wash over his body as the weirdly timid kid pulled them out into traffic at a snail’s pace. Whatever. They wouldn’t get stopped for a traffic violation when the driver was cautious.

He’d done it. His debut as the terrifying Red Hood, hunter of the wicked and bane of the Batman, was launched. And he didn’t need a license to do it.

[pyrodolls]

will you write more parts for the yandere!fan fic? 🫣

STALKER! YANDERE BOY X GN! READER (PART 2)

WARNINGS: stalking, mentions of murder, regular yandere tendencies, gender neutral reader

A/N: damn that first part did a lot better than i thought it would, thank you guys! so how about i bring in a second yandere… i’m naming this yandere victor, and the yandere in the first part is bayani. (btw the art below is by RIP2_)

part one (with bayani) right here! a third part is coming soon, featuring both bayani and victor when they realize they both are pining for you...

stalker! yandere boy that puts in more effort than superfan! yandere boy to catch your attention. bayani could never love you. he can barely even handle you looking at him, what makes you think he’s the right one for you? he’s just a lowly coward. victor is the one for you. he loves you so much. more than bayani.

stalker! yandere boy that doesn't care about your music. not one bit. because he loves you for you! who cares what your music sounds like? he doesn't care what genre it is, or if you even have a good voice or not. he'd be the best boyfriend for you because he treats you like an actual human, not just some singing machine. besides, he personally prefers metal. maybe he can listen to it with you when you get together! it sounds like a delightful date.

stalker! yandere boy that follows you around wherever you go. he tracks your travelling patterns, and visits whatever places you visit at the exact same time. whether you fly private, commercial, or even use a train or car. doesn't matter. he will follow you. where you go, he goes.

stalker! yandere boy that would go as far as to disguise himself as someone else in order to interact with you and gain your attention. you go eat at a restaurant? victor would kill a random waiter, steal their uniform, and take their place. you stay at a hotel? he's posing as room service and will steal your clothes and belongings tidy up your room! he'll even use the key to your room to walk in and watch you sleep at night. you just look so enchanting in your sleep, how can he resist? it's not wrong, he's just keeping you safe. he is the only one that can make sure you are happy and healthy. in victor's eyes, even the strongest bodyguard cannot keep you safe. you don't need anyone else. just him.

stalker! yandere boy that tries to catch your attention anytime he can. he needs you to notice him. he needs you to say something to him, talk to him, touch him, know him, acknowledge his existence. victor needs you to validate his existence in order to continue living. without you, what would he do? he cannot handle being away from you. he cannot handle being alone. don't leave him alone. don't leave him alone. don't leave him alone. he needs you.

stalker! yandere boy that gets jealous easily. you collab with another artist or you're seen holding hands with someone in public? he's spreading a fake rumor about whoever it is and ruining their life. you shouldn't be so stupid. why associate with someone else when you have him? why ditch him for someone else? he's right there. he can be better than them. who cares what they look or sound like? victor's so much better. he can show you how much better he is, if you give him a chance.

stalker! yandere boy that is so desperate for any kind of attention from you. it doesn't matter if it's positive or negative attention. he always plays it cool and acts all smug and calm when you notice him, but on the inside he is resisting the urge to grab you and run away from the world. all he wants is to have a peaceful, isolated life with you. away from the disgusting people in the world. you and victor can be happy together.

stalker! yandere boy that is incredibly clingy. you know you need him, right? he must be near you at all times. his presence keeps you alive and happy. you keep HIM happy. he needs you. you both need each other. if he can't see or feel your presence, he will go insane. that is why he travels anywhere you go. that is why he must go to each and every one of your concerts and meet-and-greets. you assumed he was just a big fan to be at every single event, but you just can't see that he loves you much more than just some fan.

stalker! yandere boy that just wants to be with you! let him be around you. let him completely obsess over you, touch you, love you, do whatever he wants to you. he won't hurt you! he just wants a little bit of freedom to say and do whatever he wants to you once you are together, so he can make sure you don't leave him. he will make you feel so good, so loved, so appreciated. nobody will ever love you more than he does.

but there may be someone that rivals his affections. a lowly, masochistic, scrawny pest that thinks he loves you more. victor will have to do something about it before your little superfan finally decides to man up and make a move on you.

[youeitherselfshiporudie]

the mario movie is gonna make my crush on luigi resurface *buried my face in my hands and screams*

[hajiberry]

VOICE-MEMOS THEY SEND WHEN THEYRE DRUNK

Kirishima- “baaaaaaabe, hiii I’m out and well I mean I’m not really out anymore I’m on my way home. In an Uber cause no drunk driving duhhhhhh but actually I’m not even drunk so I actually could’ve driven but somebody I won’t name names was being a bit of an asshat and wouldn’t let me drive. But oh my god I love yousomuch like you know I love my guys but god I miss you every time I go out. And yes I know I’ll see you when I get home but your gonna be sleeping and I’m gonna be sad but honestly might wake you up because I wanna kiss you. Okaaay pulling up to to the cribbb noww BYYE”

Deku- “okay let me start by saying I’m only slightly under the influence right now. Like honestly barely, I didn’t even drink that much but sometimes I feel like because I never had a college experience to build my tolerance up I’m still a lightweight at 24 but anyways I’m on the way home and I keep thinking about how much I love you and I miss you so much and oh my god I don’t know what I’d do if we ever broke up. Not that I want that to ever happen but like oh my god how could I even function? I’d probably drop from number 1 to like in the hundreds 'cause I’d be that useless without you.” *starts crying and the rest of the audio message is him crying*

Todoroki - “y/n, I’m currently in midoriyas car because he’s driving me home because I accidentally drank too much at the after-party for the award show. I’m so sad you couldn’t come, like I know the anniversary party for your parents is really important that’s why I’m flying out tomorrow to be there for it. Shit, that was a secret. I hope you don’t listen to this because then you’ll know I’m on a plane coming to see you in like 3 hours. Honestly don’t know how I’m going to function hungover on an airplane but I think I’ll manage, I mean it’s not like it’s a commercial flight so I should be good. Damn it well I was originally going to say I love and miss you. Which still stands but I’m gonna go now because I think I’m going to throw up” “TODOROKI NOT IN MY CAR PLEASE”

Bakugou- “fuck. I’m so drunk right now and I hate even admitting that but that’s how shit-faced I am right now that I can even admit that I’m drunk. This is why I should never go out with my idiot friends, they make me drink and then I end up talking about you and that’s so beyond embarrassing. Not that you’re embarrassing I just don’t need them to know my business like that. Kirishimas driving me home right now which I feel like speaks volumes about my lack of good judgment right now. I don’t even know what the point of this message is I just wanted to say you’re one of the most tolerable person I’ve ever met and I really fucking love you. Okay bye this idiots smiling at what I’m saying and it’s creeping me out.

[brunchable]

This is Your Boyfriend Mom? [3]

Pairings: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Our savage wittle boi Lucas x f!Reader.

Summary: It's Lucas' 7th Birthday and Bucky finally meets the Dad from Finance. Bucky also FINALLY got a haircut lmfao.

A/N: I will just keep posting Step-Dad Bucky content, this doesn't really have set plot, just cute and funny moments while Bucky navigates how to be a Dad.

The Night Before the Party

You were busy setting up the last of the birthday decorations when you heard the front door open. You didn’t think much of it at first, but then Lucas came sprinting into the living room, eyes wide, looking like he’d just seen a ghost.

“Mom!” he shouted, excitement and shock mixed in his voice. “Bucky’s back, and... uh, something’s wrong with him!”

You raised an eyebrow, turning toward the door just as Bucky strolled in, a smirk playing on his lips. You froze, your hands still holding the banner you were about to hang up.

Bucky had chopped his hair. Gone were the long, unruly locks he’d been hiding behind for months, replaced by a clean, short trim that made him look—well, if you were being honest—like he’d just walked off the set of a cologne commercial. Looking absolutely handsome.

“Wow, look at you. All... polished.” You blinked, trying to suppress a grin.

Before Bucky could respond, Lucas crossed his arms, pacing around him like a tiny detective on the case. “So, Mr. Metal Mop finally decided to join the human race, huh?”

“Really, Lucas?” Bucky sighed.

“Oh yeah. You’re like a whole new person,” Lucas continued, squinting at him. “Seriously, who are you, and what have you done with the walking disaster that usually lives here?”

You let out a snort of laughter as Bucky’s jaw twitched. “It’s just a haircut, kid.”

Lucas tilted his head, eyes narrowed as he pointed dramatically at Bucky’s head. “This? This is not just a haircut. This is a ‘I’m about to show everyone I’m the coolest guy at this party’ haircut.”

“What? No, it’s not! I’m not trying to show off.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow, smirking like a seasoned detective who’d just cracked the case wide open. “Oh really? ‘Cause you didn’t care about looking like a caveman until now, right before my party. Coincidence? I think not.”

“I just felt like a change, alright? This has nothing to do with the party. I’m not trying to outshine anyone.” Bucky crossed his arms, standing taller, trying to play it cool.

Lucas grinned wider. “Uh-huh. Sure. So, you just happened to get a haircut right before a big event? Not competitive at all?”

Bucky groaned, clearly trying to keep his cool. “I’m not trying to compete with anybody. I just thought I’d make things... easier for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, right. Easier. You know, if you wanted to look good for once, you could’ve just said so.” Lucas snorted, shaking his head.

Bucky’s jaw twitched as he quickly looked to you for backup, but you were too busy laughing to jump in.

Lucas leaned in dramatically, whispering, “You can relax, Bucky. We all know Mom doesn’t love you for your looks.”

You burst out laughing, clutching your sides as Bucky stared at Lucas, half-amused, half-offended.

“I’m not—,” Bucky started, running his hand over his hair again. “It’s just a haircut!”

“Oh, sure,” Lucas said, stepping closer, his face serious but his eyes full of mischief. “So it has nothing to do with the fact that Patrick’s gonna be here tomorrow? You’re not trying to look cooler than him? You know he works out, right?”

Bucky frowned, looking genuinely puzzled. “Patrick works out?”

Lucas shrugged. “Yup. I heard him mention it once. But hey, at least now you look like you can keep up.”

“Please. I don’t need a haircut to keep up with your Dad.” Bucky crossed his arms and scoffed.

Lucas smirked, still circling him. “Mmhmm. That’s why you’re all cleaned up—so you can make sure nobody at the party outshines you.”

You were practically doubled over at this point, tears streaming down your face from laughter.

“I’m not competing with anybody!” Bucky insisted, throwing his hands up.

“Right, because getting a ‘too cool for school’ haircut right before the party is totally not competitive.” Lucas grinned wider, seeing that he had Bucky cornered.

Bucky clenched his jaw, still trying to hold his ground. “This is a tactical haircut. Streamlined. It’s practical.”

Lucas grinned, clearly not buying it. “Oh, tactical, huh? Right. Is that what you’re gonna tell everyone tomorrow? ‘Hey, check out my tactical haircut. You like?’”

Bucky chuckles and points at Lucas, “Okay, that’s it. You’re done.”

Without warning, he lunged forward, scooping Lucas up and flipping him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Lucas squealed, laughing uncontrollably. “Bucky! Put me down!”

“Oh no,” Bucky said, shaking his head as he carried Lucas toward the couch. “You’re gonna sit here and think about your life choices.”

Lucas, still flailing and laughing, managed to gasp, “At least I didn’t need a haircut to look cool!”

Bucky plopped him down onto the couch, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re gonna pay for this tomorrow, kid. You just wait.”

Lucas grinned up at him, still breathless from laughing. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, give me a tactical timeout?”

“Unbelievable. You’re supposed to be on my side here.” Bucky glanced at you, exasperated but unable to hide his smile.

You finally managed to calm down enough to speak. “Oh no, I’m staying out of this. Lucas is absolutely right.”

Lucas beamed with pride as he gave you a thumbs-up. “See? Mom knows what’s up.”

Bucky groaned again, dropping down onto the couch beside Lucas. “Alright, fine. Have your fun tonight. Tomorrow, though, I’m stealing all your cake.”

Lucas gasped, feigning horror. “Not the cake!”

Bucky grinned, leaning back. “Oh yeah. Tactical move.”

× × × ×

The birthday party was in full swing, with kids running around, balloons everywhere, and Lucas at the center of it all. You were watching from a distance, laughing softly as Bucky awkwardly navigated the chaos. He was holding a cupcake in one hand, clearly out of his element, but smiling nonetheless. Everything was going smoothly.

The Avengers were scattered around, trying their best to blend in. Clint was at the snack table, sampling every kind of chip he could get his hands on. Tony was in full I’ve-paid-for-everything-here mode, handing out goodie bags like they were shares in Stark Industries. Nat and Steve were casually watching the kids play, exchanging side glances, while Sam was trying (and failing) to explain some complex game rules to a group of seven-year-olds.

Everything seemed perfect.

Until he arrived.

“Uh, hey,” Bucky muttered to you, nodding toward the door. “That’s, uh… him, right?”

You turned to see Lucas’ dad, Patrick, making his way into the party, looking a bit too put-together for a kids’ birthday—pressed suit, perfectly styled hair, and an aura of someone who had just closed a very important deal five minutes before arriving.

“Yep. That’s Patrick,” you said, trying not to laugh at the grimace on Bucky’s face.

Patrick spotted Lucas and waved. “Hey, buddy! Happy Birthday!” He strode over confidently, handing Lucas a brightly wrapped present.

Lucas opened it, pulling out a brand-new Nintendo Switch. He looked up at his dad and gave a polite smile. “Uh, thanks, Patrick.”

Bucky, still watching from a few feet away, cocked his head. “Why’s he callin’ him Patrick?”

You shrugged, whispering, “Lucas just started calling him that on his own. I think it confuses him.”

Patrick glanced over, finally noticing you and Bucky standing there. He smiled—though it was more of a tight-lipped one—and made his way over, extending his hand to Bucky.

“Hi, I’m Patrick. Lucas’ father,” he said, with an air of someone who’s used to introductions being brief and businesslike.

Bucky hesitated for half a second, staring at Patrick’s perfectly manicured hand like it might explode. Then he awkwardly wiped his own hand on his jeans before shaking it.

“Bucky. You know, the boyfriend.”

The words hung in the air like an awkward mist. Patrick’s smile twitched. “Ah, yes. The… boyfriend. Great to meet you.”

They stood there, shaking hands for what felt like five or ten seconds too long, neither one letting go, each one’s grip tightening ever so slightly. You watched from the side, holding back a laugh as the tension built.

Finally, Patrick cleared his throat and let go. “So, uh, how’s the party going?”

Bucky shrugged. “Good. You know, kids. Loud. Messy. Chaos.”

Patrick nodded, chuckling awkwardly. “Ah, yeah. Well, you know, in finance, things are a bit more... orderly.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Finance, huh? That sounds... fun.”

Patrick straightened his posture, clearly missing the sarcasm. “Oh, it’s very rewarding. Numbers, investments... making sure the market flows smoothly.”

Bucky blinked. “Yeah, I bet. I usually just stop markets by throwing people out windows.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Patrick stared at Bucky, unsure if that was a joke or a confession.

You stifled a laugh behind your hand. “So, how about that gift?” you asked, trying to change the subject. “Lucas, do you like it?”

Lucas, who had wandered over to Bucky’s side, gave a polite nod. “Uh, yeah. Thanks, Dad.”

Patrick smiled, clearly not noticing how forced Lucas’s enthusiasm was. “Glad you like it, buddy.”

As Patrick turned to talk to one of the other parents, Bucky crouched down next to Lucas and whispered, “Hey, what’s up, buddy? You don’t seem that excited.”

Lucas looked up at Bucky and sighed. “I already have a Switch. He bought me one for my 6th birthday. He just… forgot.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, glancing between Lucas and Patrick, who was fidgeting with his phone. “Ah. I see.”

Patrick, overhearing, laughed nervously. “Well, uh, you can never have too many Switches, right?”

Bucky stood up, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Yeah. Or, you know, you could... I dunno, maybe remember what you got your kid for his birthday last year.”

Patrick blinked, clearly not sure whether Bucky was joking or not. “Well, you know, with finance and all... numbers just blur together sometimes. I have a lot on my plate.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Right. Numbers blur. Must be hard to forget when you’re counting millions.” His voice was laced with sarcasm.

Patrick chuckled, but it was the kind of chuckle people do when they’re uncomfortable. “Yeah, well… finance life.”

Bucky gave him a pointed look. “Yeah, but I bet remembering your kid’s birthday gifts doesn’t really blur with anything, does it?”

Patrick looked away, clearly flustered, mumbling something about "busyness" as he shifted awkwardly in his suit.

From the other side of the party, you could see Clint and Tony watching the exchange with amusement, whispering something to each other while Steve shook his head at the spectacle. Nat gave a sly smile in your direction, clearly picking up on the tension, while Sam made a “yikes” face, pretending to zip his lips as if to say, Yup, this is awkward.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer, and you let out a snort of laughter, patting Bucky on the arm. “Well, Lucas, now you can... switch between your Switches?”

Lucas looked up, a confused smile on his face, while Bucky chuckled softly under his breath. Patrick, however, just stood there, looking like he wished the earth would swallow him whole.

Patrick, cleared his throat and forced a smile. “So, Bucky, what did you get Lucas for his birthday?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing at you for a second before smirking. “Oh, I didn’t go the ‘two-of-the-same-gift’ route,” he teased, earning a snicker from you.

Patrick’s forced smile faltered slightly, but he maintained his composure. “Right, but I’m sure you got him something nice.”

Bucky gave a nod, gesturing toward the corner of the room. “Got him a custom-built bow and arrow set.” He paused for effect. “You know, something a little more memorable.”

Patrick blinked, clearly caught off guard. “A… bow and arrow? For a seven-year-old?”

Bucky crossed his arms, still smirking. “Hey, I’ve got a friend who’s pretty good with those. Thought it might be a good skill to have. Besides, Lucas loved it.”

Patrick glanced over at Lucas, who was currently showing the bow set to Clint, who was eagerly demonstrating how to hold it properly. Lucas was grinning from ear to ear.

Patrick, trying to recover, chuckled awkwardly. “Well, I’m sure the Nintendo Switch will still get plenty of use.”

Bucky leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough so only Patrick could hear, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, if Lucas forgets he already has one.”

Patrick's smile tightened again as he awkwardly laughed, clearly regretting asking.

From the sidelines, you could see Tony and Sam observing the whole interaction with raised eyebrows. Tony leaned over to Sam, whispering, 

“I’m giving this five minutes before Finance Dad taps out.” 

Sam grinned, nodding in agreement.

× × × ×

The birthday cake was finally brought out, candles lit, and the room filled with the excited chatter of kids and adults alike. Lucas stood proudly at the center, his face glowing in the soft flicker of the seven candles. Everyone gathered around the table, cheering him on.

"Alright, everyone!" you called out, smiling down at Lucas. "On three! One… two… three! Make a wish, Lucas!"

Lucas squeezed his eyes shut and puffed out his cheeks before blowing out all seven candles in one swift breath. The room erupted into cheers, and you bent down to kiss the top of his head.

Just as the cheers started to die down, someone in the crowd—most likely Tony—yelled out, “Time for a family picture!”

The laughter and chatter quieted as you, Lucas, and Bucky moved toward the cake, ready for the photo. But, just as Bucky stepped up beside Lucas, Patrick appeared at the other side, standing just as close.

Both Bucky and Patrick froze, their eyes locking in an awkward stand-off. Neither moved, both unsure of what the protocol was in this moment. Patrick chuckled nervously, shifting on his feet.

“So… family picture, huh?” Patrick said with an awkward smile, trying to ease the tension.

“Yeah. Family picture,” Bucky replied, his tone flat, clearly unimpressed.

The two men stood on either side of Lucas, staring at each other, neither willing to give up the spot closest to the boy. Lucas, meanwhile, was too focused on choosing the biggest slice of cake to notice the tension brewing between the two.

Clint, who had been quietly observing the whole thing from the side, leaned over to Natasha and whispered, just loud enough to be heard by others, “Looks like someone's gotta blink first.”

Natasha smirked but said nothing, her eyes fixed on the scene in front of her.

Sensing the growing awkwardness, you tried to step in. “Um, you know what, why don’t we take a couple of pictures? That way, everyone gets in,” you suggested, hoping to break the standoff.

But neither Bucky nor Patrick moved. Instead, they both shuffled even closer to Lucas, determined to be the one standing right beside him. Patrick forced a smile, trying to mask his discomfort.

“Well, I mean... I’m his dad, so...” Patrick began, his voice light but strained.

“And I’m here every day,” Bucky shot back, his voice deadpan, arms crossing as if he was daring Patrick to push further.

They stared at each other, tension hanging in the air, both waiting for the other to step back. By now, the Avengers had all noticed. From the other side of the room, Tony leaned over to Sam, his voice a stage whisper that was impossible to miss.

“Who’s taking bets? This is about to get good,” Tony said, grinning.

Sam chuckled. “Ten bucks on Bucky. He’s got that murder stare locked and loaded.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, stepping forward before things got any more awkward. 

“Alright,” you said, laying down the final word. “Bucky, you can be in this one. Patrick, you’ll be in the next one.”

Both men blinked in surprise, caught off guard by your no-nonsense tone. Bucky gave a small, smug smile and slipped into place beside Lucas, casually throwing his arm around the boy’s shoulders.

Patrick nodded stiffly, his smile tight and forced. “Sounds fair.”

“Great,” Tony clapped his hands dramatically, clearly reveling in the tension. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Everyone say ‘awkward’!”

The camera flashed, capturing the moment, Bucky’s subtle triumphant grin beside Lucas, while Patrick stood to the side, looking like he was mentally calculating how soon he could make a polite exit.

[mmso-notlikethat]

fic prompt! Since I just landed on a flight home, how about Buck and Tommy fly somewhere and this is the time that Buck gets to really see Tommy being a nerd about flying, even if he's not flying the plane himself. If it sparks joy. 😊

Sarah i know i'm so late, but I've been thinking about this since you sent it.. finally, an idea came by lol (hope you like it 🥰)

Buck was mid-ramble about the aerodynamics of commercial planes—something he'd picked up during a late-night internet deep dive before their trip—when he paused, noticing Tommy sitting rigidly beside him.

Tommy’s hand gripped the armrest tightly, his fingers tapping an uneven rhythm as though he couldn’t quite keep them still. His jaw was set, lips pressed into a thin line, and his gaze flickered back and forth between the window and the seat in front of him.

“You okay?” Buck asked, tilting his head toward him.

“Yeah, fine,” Tommy replied quickly, his voice clipped. His eyes didn’t meet Buck’s, and his grip on the armrest tightened slightly as the plane jolted, turning onto the main runway.

Buck didn’t press him. Instead, he shifted in his seat, leaning just a little closer.

As the plane accelerated for takeoff, Tommy exhaled sharply, his foot bouncing lightly against the floor. His fingers tapped the armrest before curling tightly, knuckles pale. His breathing was shallow—measured, as if keeping himself in check. Buck noticed without a word, his gaze flicking briefly to Tommy’s hand before sliding his own over it. His thumb brushed lightly against Tommy’s wrist, a quiet reassurance.

Tommy didn’t react at first, but then Buck shifted his hand, gently coaxing Tommy’s fingers to relax. Tommy hesitated, glancing at Buck out of the corner of his eye, but the tension in his grip eased. Slowly, almost shyly, his fingers relaxing enough for Buck to intertwine them with his own.

Buck didn’t say anything, didn’t even glance at him, just kept talking about the mechanics of lift-off as though nothing was out of the ordinary. His voice was steady and warm, grounding in a way that pulled Tommy’s focus from the roaring engines and the tilt of the plane as it left the ground.

Tommy’s grip tightened briefly around Buck’s hand, but this time it wasn’t out of nervousness—it was something quieter, steadier. Buck’s faint smile grew as he felt the shift, his thumb brushing lightly along the side of Tommy’s hand.

By the time the plane leveled out, Tommy had regained his composure. His usual confidence returned, and Buck could see it in the way he subtly shifted in his seat, reclaiming his space.

And their fingers stayed intertwined, neither of them letting go.

“Sorry about that,” Tommy muttered, finally looking at Buck. “Guess I do not like flying unless I’m the one in control.”

Buck shrugged, giving him an easy grin. “Makes sense. You’re used to being the guy behind the stick. Kind of weird to trust someone else to do the job.”

Tommy let out a soft laugh, nodding. “Exactly.”

Buck leaned closer, his eyes lighting up. “But you’ve got to admit, it’s kind of amazing to just sit back and think about how all this works. I mean, did you know that commercial planes—”

“—can fly even if one engine goes out?” Tommy interrupted; his tone slightly smug. He gave Buck a sidelong glance, his lips twitching into a grin. “Come on, Evan. I’ve been flying helicopters long enough to know a thing or two about rotors and wings—definitely more than you.”

Buck feigned offense, his hand still resting lightly in Tommy’s. “First of all, rude. Second of all, helicopters are completely different from planes. And third, this is my thing. You don’t get to outdo me in rambling about cool stuff.”

Tommy chuckled, leaning his head back against the seat. “Fine. You get this one. But only because I already know all the facts.”

“Oh, do you?” Buck shot back, leaning forward in challenge.

Tommy’s face lit up in a way Buck rarely saw. “Okay, look, I’ll give you this,” Tommy began, his tone shifting into the cadence of someone who truly loved what they were talking about. “Planes are efficient and all, but helicopters? They’re the real magic. Think about it—rotor blades generate lift, but they’re also responsible for propulsion. You’re balancing pitch, yaw, and roll all at the same time. It’s like juggling while standing on a tightrope during a windstorm.”

Tommy kept going, now diving into the mechanics of different flight systems and the nuances between military and civilian helicopters. “And then there’s autorotation recovery—people think it’s impossible, but if you’ve got the skill and focus—”

He suddenly trailed off, catching Buck’s gaze. Buck was staring at him, eyes twinkling and a soft smile curling his lips.

Tommy froze, blinking. “What?”

“What what?” Buck asked, his smile widening innocently.

Tommy’s cheeks turned pink. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Buck chuckled. “Nothing, I’m just listening.”

“Oh…” Tommy hesitated, his blush deepening. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

“Sorry? No, I like it. Come on, tell me more!” Buck urged, grinning. “But also, don’t be so biased about helicopters. I also need to know more about planes in general!”

Tommy’s lips twitched into a bashful smile before he nodded, launching back into his explanation with renewed enthusiasm. He gestured with his hands as he spoke, describing the differences in flight dynamics between fixed-wing and rotary-wing aircraft, his voice growing more animated with each passing second.

Buck watched him, mesmerized by the way Tommy’s eyes lit up, the way his hands moved as though he could hardly contain his excitement. Finally, Buck raised a hand, halting Tommy mid-sentence.

“Wait a minute,” Buck said, leaning in. Before Tommy could ask why, Buck kissed him—a brief, warm press of lips that left Tommy blinking in surprise.

Buck pulled back just enough to grin at him. “I might be starting to understand why you never stop me when I ramble.”

Tommy’s smile grew, wide and unrestrained, and before Buck could say another word, Tommy leaned in and kissed him again—a quick, joyful press of lips that made Buck’s heart flip.

When Tommy pulled back, his voice was soft and full of warmth. “I love you.”

Buck blinked, his grin spreading even wider. And he said in a mock-surprise “You do?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth tugged upward despite himself.

“Just making sure,” Buck teased, his tone light, as if he wasn’t already beaming. “Because I love you too.”

Tommy let out a laugh and without thinking, he brought their intertwined hands up, pressing a quick kiss to the back of Buck’s hand. The small gesture made Buck’s heart skip, but before he could say anything, Tommy leaned back, his grin turning playful. “Okay, so… does this mean I get to win the argument about helicopters being better?”

“Absolutely not,” Buck said, laughing as he bumped his shoulder against Tommy’s. “But I’ll let you try and convince me.”

He glanced at Buck, hesitant for a beat, then took a breath and continued where he left off. “Okay, fine. But since you’re so determined to make this a debate, let me explain why helicopters still have the edge—”

Buck interrupted with a mock groan, throwing his head back. “Oh, here we go again.”

Tommy just laughed, a bright, happy sound that filled the small space between them, and Buck couldn’t help but think that this—this—was his favorite sound in the world.

[steddieas-shegoes]

documentary

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'behind the music'

rated m | 723 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: modern era, famous corroded coffin, established steddie

📹📹📹📹📹📹📹📹📹📹

"Steve!" Gareth calls from the couch of the living room, not caring that Eddie was fast asleep in his chair. "It's on!"

Steve rushes into the room, nearly falling face first when he slips on the corner of the rug. He's wiping his hands on a towel, probably wet from doing the dishes after dinner.

Jeff and Frankie are sitting on the other couch, leaning forward to watch.

Eddie's still asleep somehow.

"Metal bands have always been expected to just make due with whatever already exists in the metal community. 'Don't play acoustic' and 'You can't play Coachella' and 'You can't feature a pop star.' But we just like music. We wanna share music with people."

"Listen to you, Jeff. So poetic," Frankie teases. Jeff shoves him, but they keep watching the ad for their documentary.

"We live in a time where people don't have to just like one thing. Someone can have a playlist that's got us right next to Dolly Parton and Taylor Swift if they want. If people saw my playlists, they'd think a group of teenagers made it."

Eddie doesn't even wake up when his voice fills the room, his face on the screen.

"Corroded Coffin announces world tour with a new opening guest for every show. The artists range anywhere from Chappell Roan to Sleep Token." A male reporter is shown on the screen.

"No one's doing it like them, that's why we love them," a few fans say into a camera during an interview.

"The members of Corroded Coffin refused to do a documentary for years, too busy writing, recording, and performing music for the masses. But they've taken time off this year, focusing on personal time with loved ones and staying out of the limelight they worked so hard to reach. We finally managed to sit down with them and find out who they are...behind the music."

The ad changes to a fast food commercial and Steve laughs.

"That was somehow more dramatic than anything Eddie's ever done," he says as he walks over to wake up his still sleeping boyfriend. "Ed, you missed it."

Eddie's eyes blink open, but he doesn't seem to remember that he fell asleep with everyone in the room. He grabs Steve's thighs and pulls him down so he's straddling his waist.

"Hey, big boy. Was just dreamin' about you."

Steve laughs. "You can tell me all about it later. When your best friends are not sitting a few feet away."

Eddie turns his head, but doesn't take his hands off of Steve's hips. "You should all go. I have business to attend to."

"You missed the ad, dumbass," Gareth says, throwing one of the pillows at Eddie. "Keep your hands to yourself until the next run."

"Don't you think it's already on social media?" Frankie asked before Eddie could.

"Probably, but it's different on tv."

Eddie squeezes Steve's hips, but lets him get up. He sits up and smiles up at Steve. "Later?"

"If you can stay awake, sure."

Steve leaves the room and Jeff, Frankie, and Gareth all start teasing Eddie immediately. He lets them; He knows he's a lovesick idiot.

When the next ad comes on as scheduled, Eddie watches it silently.

He pulls his phone out and calls Wayne, asking if he saw it.

And then he starts crying.

Everyone's in complete shock.

"Steve! Eddie's crying!" Gareth yells.

This time when Steve comes rushing into the room, it's with panic in his eyes. He seems to realize what's going on the moment he sees Eddie, though. He shoos everyone out of the room as he makes his way to him, kneeling in front of him and placing his hands on his face.

The guys don't hear much, but they can make out Eddie blubbering "we worked so hard for this and it's happening" and Steve's gentle shushing and praise.

"Should we get pizza delivered?" Frankie asks.

"I think now's a good time to just leave," Jeff suggests. "We can get hibachi."

"Hell yeah!" Frankie fist pumps and opens the front door, holding it open as Jeff walks through it.

Gareth looks back towards where Steve has Eddie's head against his shoulder, hand in his hair. He smiles to himself as he leaves to join Jeff and Frankie.

They really did work their asses off to get here.