#his feelings where saying it makes it real. if he just keeps it all in his head he can ignore it.

[writing-for-marvel]

Take Me Home

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky starts fiddling with his dog tags while out with your friends.

Prompt: comforting one another

Warnings: mentions of Bucky’s past trauma but not detailed

Word count: 1.0k

A/N: this is my submission for @stellar-solar-flare’s Starry Winter Sky Event 💜 just a short fic as I get back into writing. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

You’re sure Bucky doesn’t even realise that he’s doing it, but it signals as clearly as if he had shot up a flare that he needs you.

The fingers of his flesh hand fiddle with the metal of his dog tags absentmindedly, nervously, and you can see by the distant gaze of his eyes that he has completely checked out of the conversation.

In all the time you have known Bucky, you’ve been aware of his short social battery, and though some people in your life put it down as him being ‘grumpy’, you know the real root cause is much deeper than him simply liking to keep to himself.

Making your way across the room, eyes watching him retreat even further into himself and turning over the dog tag with his fingers with every additional input of the conversation he had been involved with, your heart descends deeper into the cavernous pit his clear suffering is carving into your stomach.

You know Bucky well enough that he’ll suffer through this internal anguish because he thinks you want to stay at this gathering with your friends, rather than coming to find you right away so you can both retreat into the comfort of your shared apartment.

But you’re not about to let him endure this torment for a second longer.

“Hey guys, sorry to interrupt.” You cut across the active conversation, putting your arm around Bucky’s waist, snuggling up to his side, really not that remorseful about disturbing their discussion when you know the outcome will relieve your love of his pain. “My tummy isn’t feeling that great, Buck, do you mind taking me home?”

There is relief mixed with genuine concern for you in his baby blues when these words come out of your mouth that somehow make you love him even more - he’s currently bearing the brunt of his own pain for you, but the moment you mention a made up illness he’s more worried about your health than his own.

Bucky’s arms snake around you, finally releasing his fidgeting hold on his dog tags, as he places a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Of course my love.” Bucky says, only letting you go for a brief moment as you both say proper goodbyes to your friends, before he intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you out the door to start the short walk to your apartment.

It’s chilly outside the restaurant, a soft breeze making you shiver, and Bucky doesn’t hesitate to shrug off his jacket and place it around your bare shoulders.

Ever the gentleman your thoughtful, doting boyfriend is.

“Do you think it was something you ate?” It’s genuinely sweet how naive he can be sometimes, but you are also aware that it comes from a place of trauma where his brain can’t make the connection that anyone would do something selflessly for him simply because they love him.

“Bucky, I’m feeling fine.”

“But your tummy.”

“I could see you had used all of your social battery, and I know you don’t like to be the reason we leave places early, so I made it up.” He stops dead in the street. There’s a moment, a couple short breaths, when Bucky simply looks at you with wide, affectionate eyes, as if it’s taking him a moment to process what you have done for him.

“You made it up?” It’s not an accusatory tone, instead one that almost sounds astonished. You nod with a small smile. “So I didn’t have to be the reason we left?”

“Mhmm. I only want to be out places when we both want to be there. There is no reason for you to feel uncomfortable and have to endure that for me.” You caress his cheek, feeling the stubble on his jaw as he leans into your gentle touch.

“But darling-” He starts, but you trace your thumb over his bottom lip as a distraction and to interrupt, not to be rude, but to show Bucky you don’t play when it comes to his safety and comfort.

“No buts Buck. We’re in this together, you and me. If the roles were reversed, and you knew I was feeling out of place like that, would you have let me stay?”

His lips curl inward slightly, involuntarily, in a way you have come to know occurs when he doesn’t want to admit he’s in the wrong. Without speaking, with just a grateful look that communicates more than he could articulate with words, he kisses you ardently in the middle of the sidewalk.

“You don’t have to hide how you feel from me. I love every part of you, even the parts you try hiding away from the world. You’re safe with me.” Placing your hand on his chest, his eyes regard you with adoration - you’re not sure what thoughts are racing through his mind, but you can see the cogs turning behind his pupils.

“You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Bucky, when are you going to learn that unconditional love means no strings attached? You deserve to be loved wholeheartedly for exactly who you are. And I promise to do just that, for the rest of my life.” You can feel his heartbeat quicken underneath the pads of your fingers.

He encompasses your hand in both of his, leans forward and speaks with a low tone, for your ears only.

“I love you too. I promise, I’m really gonna try to do better with communicating how I feel. Old habits are hard to break, but I really would do anything for you.”

With that, Bucky pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, like you’re his sturdy anchor grounding him as he tries to navigate the choppy, rough sea which has been his life. As you continue home, the weight of the evening slips away, replaced by the comforting feeling that regardless how traumatic his life has been up until now, you would always be a safe place for him to come back home to.

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[ishasturnz]

‘ Awkward Apologies ‘

dividers by:@ianrkives

authors note: i’m really hoping my smut writing is good because i genuinely don’t know how smut writers do it..

Summary: A few weeks ago when you and Chris thought you were gonna be home alone after matt left with nick, Unannounced Nick came back home early and walked in on you and Chris…

Contains: porn without plot, getting caught, ROUGHHH sex, nick being dramatic.

word count: 722

character count: 3271

4:57 PM

“Nick and I are heading out to grab some Cane's; we'll be back soon,” Matt announced, his voice full of annoyance as he jingled his keys and checked that his wallet was tucked securely in his pocket. Nick, a few steps behind, Just stood with a stupid smile on his face after bugging Matt about getting canes.

“Alrighty, it’s not like we’re even going anywhere so the door should be unlocked by the time you guys get here.” My was tone neutral since me and Chris were watching a movie on the TV.

5:25 PM

The bed creaked loudly under the weight of both our bodies

Chris pounds into you mercilessly as you moan louder. “couldn’t- fuck… FUCK y/n- couldn’t wait until they left..” Chris groaned and railed into you harder from behind.

He pushes your back down so it arches more somehow making him go deeper than before and making his cock hit magic spots you didn’t even know existed.

“Fuh- fuck!” You moaned, no screamed out in pure bliss. You swore sometimes you could feel his cock pick at your heart sometimes.

His Hand grips onto the headboard of his bed which was unbelievably hitting the wall hard. Most likely leaving a dent in it.

Almost hard enough to probably break the bed in general.

Our noises somehow grew louder and louder each and every second. The sheets practically were covered in sweat, drool, tears, and other substances.

The one thing we should’ve heard, we missed.

Nick opening the entrance door.

He most likely had already gotten an earful of unholy noises coming from Chris’s room starting from when he opened the door and passed his room.

6:01 PM

Nick started to approach Chris’s room, not even thinking about the unholy scene he was about to witness.

The doorknob twisted and opened to a very traumatized-looking Nick— “What the FUCK!”

Me and Chris quickly pulled our bodies apart from where they met and scrambled up the blankets to cover our nude bodies up.

“Nick why the fuck are you back so early?!” Chris yelled while covering himself up from being exposed to his brother.

“The real question is, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS FUCKING?!” Nick screaming out of pure disgust and disdain.

“I thought you guys weren’t coming back until later on?!” I screamed, holding up the blanket over my bare breasts and lower body.

“You guys are legitimately fucking SICKENING.” Nick sternly spoke before slamming Chris’s door for us to do whatever we had to do after.

A day after

My thoughts continued to spiral around the fact Nick caught me and Chris in the most intimate way possible.

Every time we saw each other we couldn’t even look into each other’s eyes.

After begging Chris to take me to ShopRite to buy cake mix and frosting he finally agreed to do so.

“You realize he probably forgot already right?” Chris drove keeping one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh gently squeezing.

“That doesn’t matter Chris, that’s like saying I’d forget when you thought it’d be a good idea to put paper towels in the oven.” My voice still a bit worn out from the acts that happened a day prior. “Those two things literally don’t correlate at all.”

“—Thats not the point..!” I didn’t yell loud enough to be considered screaming just loud enough to be considered as whiny.

Back at the house, 2:37 PM

Chris helped me bake the cake while Nick was still out at a meeting, Matt was asleep probably not going to wake up until 3:00.

We frosted it and put writing on it so the apology wasn’t as verbal since it’d be a bit awkward saying it out loud.

4:06 PM

Nick was finally back in the house, I waited till I heard him go upstairs and close his door before running to the kitchen and opening the fridge.

I left the casing on so nothing spilt and I went straight up to Nick’s room. I quietly knocked waiting for him to open the door.

The opened and I handed him the cake with a fork, “M’sorry nick..” my apology sounded sincere and heartfelt.

“Yeah yeah I forgive you—“ He hugged you to show that he actually forgave you before pausing and saying something else.

“But next time I even HEAR the smallest bit of you guys fucking i’m gonna kill myself.”

“Nicolas!”

taglist: @tezzzzzzzz @tenaciousearthquakeperson @angvl3tears @sturnshood @sturnberries @sturniologirlzz @muwapsturniolo @dykes4chris @chrepsi @chrisisadilf @chrissturniolossidebitch @baileysturnz @slut4christopherr @slxt4chriss @slvtf0rchr1s @slxtarchive @raesturns @hjvi @starkeyszn @audreyscave @lailasnight @sturns-mermaid @ikyoudreamofme @sturnsmadl @ohmanareyoucereal9 @sosasturns @blushsturns @rcklessheavn @55sturn @phone4pills @cupiidk1lls @bsturnzmtts @wh0remikasas @sfoiasturn @trevorsgodmother

MASTERLIST

[bumblehoneybee]

Imagine Doey, or DogDay, or Kissy and Poppy stumbling upon Angel after finding out they're not a real person, but another of The Doctor's creations, spare parts put to use.

They sit there on their knees, documents or a tape about their creation in hand. Perhaps given by The Doctor because they just couldn't believe it.

Angst. :3

What Makes A Person

It's. . . not right.

Doey doesn't know you as well as Poppy, but he can tell you're not right, knelt on the floor in a circle of papers and photos. His reasons for coming to this place, sneaking so close to where the Doctor lies, are lost to the back of his mind.

"Hey. . ." He starts, but you turn, killing the words in his throat.

You stare at him over your shoulder, face half obscured by the ridges of your GrabPack. Your eyes are dull, not looking at him, shining in the low lights.

A TV cuts on. Doey snaps to it, hand out towards you, not that you even move as voices crackle through the old speakers. The screen is blurry, filled with static, but he can see familiar tables and tools. The scenes cut around, the table filling with more and more parts, pieces stitched together into a new, familiar shape.

When the head is added, Doey looks to you. He doesn't know what to say, mind filled with shouting and confusion. Instead, he points one stubby finger to the screen, to the body that lies there.

You face your documents, your photos, your history. The pain holds you there, bent over and forced to face it all. Not even the cool touch of dough eases the burn of humiliation that engulfs you.

Doey eases down onto the floor, carefully sinking his weight into your back. He can feel your heartbeat, fluttering and fast, and wonders if he knew the owner. Every bit of you is from someone else, someone he might have known, before all of this.

You know it too, no doubt.

It's not fun, the realization. So Doey sits through it with you, holds you down when the anger flares, and keeps you up when it melts into devastation.

And for the time, his head is quiet. Focused on you, and the grief that drowns you.

[faithless-hoaxx]

Jegulus Celebrity (?) AU where the Marauders are a band, Jamed is a singer-songwriter, and Regulus has a podcast

Regulus is 23 and has an anonymous podcast called the Black Lake. Mostly, he goes on tangents about songs, current events, and poetry, and people listen to a faceless man because it's just so damn interesting

And if James is a little obsessed with it? If he listens to each episode, no matter what it's about, as soon as it's released because the host of the Black Lake has a dangerously addictive voice and he can't sleep without hearing it? If there's something infinitely captivating about hearing him analyze James' songs and their lyrics and what he thinks they mean and just getting it?

Regulus doesn't do interviews despite popular request because he just doesn't want to. James says fuck it and sends an email asking for one anyway. Except there's a catch: He'll be interviewed and answer anything, as long as Regulus shows at least half of his face

And, look, Regulus isn't stupid. He keeps tabs on the Marauders because of his brother, though they haven't spoken since Sirius ran away from home and Regulus became a ghost. Knows James is Sirius' best friend. But he's also hot. An excellent songwriter. A great singer. All things Regulus admirers

So they do an interview and people go fucking crazy because it's famous, elusive James Potter and effortlessly sly and charming Host of the Black Lake and -

are they flirting?

Apparently the bottom half of Regulus' face is all James needed to say

"You look like someone I know."

"Calling my face boring, Potter?"

"On the contrary, I'm calling your face beautiful. And I'd like for it to be a familiar as well."

The interview goes viral. Regulus asks the best, most thought-provoking questions and their chemistry is off the fucking charts

Except a couple months pass and then James Potter releases a single where one of the verses is "And you scoff and twist your lips / In your mind love is just a myth / The words 'don't expect forever / Because this is only for the summer'"

And people lost it once more. They ask Regulus to review the song, as he has done for so much of the Marauders' music in the past. And he does. Says the lyrics describe the situation of two crazy kids thinking they can make it work without thinking of the consequences of their actions

Then journalist Rita Skeeter writes an artical exposing the host of the Black Lake to be famous exiled heir Regulus Black, brother to Sirius Black, ex boyfriend to Sirius' best friend James Potter. Calls James many not nice things

And Regulus responds, quite reasonably he feels, with a podcast episode verbally dragging the shit out of her. Calls her a conniving, thoughtless bitch who relies on sensationalism to keep herself popular because she has no real personality to stand on. Demands she keeps James Potter out of her articles because his name alone is much prettier than anything she could ever write, and she'll embarrass herself trying

And if James finds this undeniably hot? If he calls Regulus later saying thank you? Well, then that's for just them to know

But there is song that releases two months after, the closing lyric being

"My eternal city of lost love returned / A battle of wrongdoing and hearts hard-earned / And you ask 'if we've already been through the harsh and bitter / then why not make this forever?'"

[arkhamsbrat]

you were robbed of summer, i was robbed of you

jason todd x civilian reader

when jason left, your light did too. six years of your life spent attached at jason’s hip crumbled around you with one knock on your door, and a small shoe box of old journals and trinkets was placed in your hands. they told you the funeral was that next week. you barely had time to register that they told you how he really died. asked you to keep it to yourself.

that boy you spent your childhood with, running through dark allies and making the best of your shitty little lives was gone. the boy who read to you, sat in the gamestop and played the trial of mario kart with you til you got kicked out, gone. you didn’t even get to say goodbye. they didn’t even let you see him before they buried him.

at least the bastard pitied you was kind enough to let you visit Mr. Wayne’s graveyard. you left letters, flowers, anything that reminded you of him. there were too many times that Mr. Wayne found you passed out against his tombstone. you’d wake up back in your own home, unsure of how you got there. it didn’t matter.

the next four years were miserable, barely scraping by without a few trips to the hospital from your constant exhaustion. you made it, at least. got a little cat to give you something to motivate you. her name was robin. a little stray you found on your fire escape. jason would’ve loved her.

you could see it when you closed your eyes. jason sitting on your couch, crooked smile wide as robin climbed all over him. how he’d whisper to her when he thought you couldnt hear. you saw him everywhere, doing everything. because that’s where he should be.

heroes came back all the time. the flashes, superboy, impulse, even batman. what did you need to do to bring him back? what did you have to give up? did you need to tear yourself in two all over again just to get your best friend back?

these thoughts played over and over, every single day that passed. it got to the point where you could see little silver hairs sprouting out of your head after april passed. they got thicker in august, when you kneeled by the edge of your toilet and sobbed so hard you got sick. he should be 21 now, piss drunk on your ragged old couch and cackling at how you stumbled around.

you felt pathetic when robin came and nuzzled at your leg, meowing for your attention. you ran your fingers through her fur before pulling her into your arms, feeling her purr. “how dumb do i look right now, jayce?” you muttered to yourself, bitterly. “makin’ you real proud, i bet.”

you didn’t hear the boots hit against your fire escape, nor did you see red hood slink down to peer through your smudged windows. it’d become a habit of his, though he was disappointed you weren’t as aware of your surroundings as you should’ve been.

jason watched. almost nightly. thats more than what he thought he deserved. nearly threw up in his mask the first time he saw your grey streak, stress induced.

the two of you were strangers now, he reminded himself consistently. the boy you knew was long gone, and he strongly doubted you would ever accept any of his changes. he’d hoped you’d changed for the worst. maybe he’d find something he could move on from. something to hate you for. maybe he could throw away the letters he wrote to you in hopes that one day he could come to you. in hopes he’d be able to come home.

thats what he’d always found in you. he craved it- the simplicity of you. hell, he’d even take you yelling at him for being stupid. for leaving you. he’d find a home in that, as long as it was your voice raising at him. before he came back, he was afraid you’d forgotten. he’d hoped you didn’t, in a fucked up way he hoped you’d hurt the same way he did. that you’d never forgotten him.

he regretted those wishes the minute he saw you crying over a cheap cookie with a candle stabbed through, drunk off your own ass. the date didn’t even cross his mind when he landed, only looking to check in on you. he had to fight back his own tears when it dawned on him. even now, you cared about his birthday?

if he wasn’t so stupid you wouldn’t be alone. if he didn’t care so much, if he didn’t go to-

you looked up before he got to finish any of his thoughts, letting out a shrill scream when you saw the masked vigilante on your fire escape. if he wasn’t so upset he would’ve laughed at how fast you grabbed your cat and raced to your bedroom, nearly tripping against the toys strewn about the floor. he’d wanted to mock you about how you spoiled that cat. jason wanted to be with you again. to be normal with you.

he’d never see you again if he could just tell you that you’re what got him through it all. it’s always been you, always will be. thirty minutes pass while he contemplated if he deserves to be selfish with you before he just said fuck it. he slid your window open and slipped through, searching for your room.

he’d get on you about actually locking the damn window later.

jason couldn’t find it in him to care about hiding that it was him. it was you he was telling. no matter the fear blooming from deep withinin him, he knew you’d see him. trust him. love him, if he let you.

the red hood mask got thrown onto your couch while he scrambled to your door. he knew you could hear his footsteps, probably scared shitless. how was he supposed to start this?

“been a long time…” he spoke, barely able to mask the shake in his voice. “i didn’t… i didn’t think you’d still think about me, honestly. i hoped you did, but… everyone else seemed to replace me. shoulda known you never would’ve…” jason couldn’t feel how his whole body shook as he kept speaking, barely remembering when he slid down to the floor.

“thought about you every god damn day, y’know? always wanted to tell you that. wondered if you went to school. if you were still damn awful at chemistry… did’jya start workin’ at that little cafe? said y’would once you turned sixteen…” he rambled on, tears spilling down his scarred cheeks. “i know y’don’t know me anymore… y’lost your jason… but i probably lost my you too… y’look miserable. that my fault too?”

jason heard the floorboards creak from the other side of the door. a quiet shuffling, alongside a very upset meow as a cats paw swiped under the door, catching at his jeans. he laughed quietly, setting his hand down so the cat could paw at him instead of the jeans that he just stole off some douchebag that tried to mug a mother thrifted. he felt his whole body tense when you finally spoke. “her name’s robin… thought jason would’ve liked that. none’a this is his fault.”

“i do.” he pressed his head against the door, seconds away from begging you to open it. a cat… you named your scraggly ass cat after him. you sounded exhausted- if he could snap his fingers and take it all from you, he’d do it in a heartbeat. “jason’s dead… they said he got killed by…” he let out a sharp sigh. “i wanted to come back to you, i swear. it’s a real long story.”

he heard more shuffling behind the door, and then a click. your head peeked through the crack. “…i never make plans on your birthday…i have time?” for the first time in a long time, jason felt a small smile pull at the corner of his mouth. “are you gonna remember any of this in the morning, drunkard?”

his grin widens when you shrug, teary eyes boring into his. “then i get to see you for the first time all over again. jackass.”

[ghostgirl-22]

Hiii ik you’ve heard this before but you literally write the yummiest Artrick smut!! Their dynamic is sooo good

I was thinking about Art and Patrick trying frotting for the first time? Maybe they’re dry humping and then Art’s really getting desperate and Pat suggests they do it skin-to-skin? Penny for your thoughts!!

I thank you anon! I love you and I apologize for getting to this so late <33

CW: 18+, NSFW, Patrick my little pining baby.

—-

I think it’s Patrick’s birthday some random Thursday night in January and Patrick makes Art come out with him on the day because he’s gonna celebrate with Tashi on the weekend. Art’s in a bad mood at first. He tries to pretend he isn’t but Patrick knows he’s still annoyed that Patrick has her.

“I can’t stay out late.” Art says coolly. “So if you want a real celebration with me… maybe you shoulda went out to eat with her midweek instead.”

“You want to come out to eat with us this weekend?” Patrick smirks, rubbing his back. “Just a romantic dinner. Me, my girlfriend and my best friend. Probably the most romantic thing ever.”

“Fuck off,” Art shrugs him away. They’re going to a frat party. Art knows one of the frats has insane parties every night of the week which Patrick says is pretty impressive.

“Only reason to join that frat is if you plan to take at least five or six years to graduate from a four year program.” Art says, judgmentally. “Actually, it’s probably what you’d pledge if you went here.”

Patrick lets him be bitchy and goes to get them both drinks. As Art gets tipsy he starts to loosen up. He’s getting drunk on Jell-O shots. His lips turning red and his cheeks flushing. His eyes go all moon shaped when he’s giggly. Patrick is a little obsessed, wants to make him giggle more. They get drunk enough to dance. Both of them dancing together and then dancing with various college girls. Patrick avoiding it when one of the girls leans in to kiss him. She kisses Art instead before her friend grabs her. They both giggle with each other and run to get more shots.

Art’s looking after them dazed and so drunk… Patrick grabs him away. They go to the dj table and request Apple Bottom Jeans for the third time and everyone cheers when it comes back on.

It’s dark and loud, strobe lights going off and Patrick realizes how drunk Art is when they’re on the sofa and he’s leaning on Patrick, nibbling at his throat. Patrick feels warm, hot even, he tangles his fingers into Art’s golden curls to keep him there. “I wanna lie down,” Art sighs in his ear after a minute. Which leads to Patrick guiding him upstairs in the frat house, the bass from the music thrumming through the house even though it’s much quieter upstairs. There’s a couple making out in the hallway. Some girls hooking up in the the bathroom tub while another girl is dozing off on the toilet seat.

Patrick finds an empty room and Art falls onto the bed. Patrick shuts the door and crawls on the bed, lying down next to him and before he realizes what’s happening Art climbs on top of him. “‘M so horny,” he groans, eyes half closed, dizzy drunk and barely aware of what he’s doing. Patrick is immediately hard. He thought he knew everything about Art but this is fucking new. Art is humping him through the fabric of their jeans, grinding, rutting, like a fucking animal in heat. Breathing hard, moaning loudly, chasing his orgasm. It’s so fucking hot.

”Oh fuck,” Patrick breathes. “Holy shit.”

“Mm wanna come Patrick, please. I need it.” Art whines.

“Fuck, mmkay. Come here… maybe we need… need more friction.”

”mm, yeah, please,” Art gasps.

“Yeah? Let’s…” Patrick grabs at Art’s zipper, swallowing hard. He’s had weird dreams about fucking Art for quite some time, weird wet dreams where he’s made a mess of him. So many dirty dreams this feels like deja vu.

But this is better than the dreams. Best fucking birthday ever. He’s easing it out of Art’s boxers. He’s seen it of course. When he didn’t need anything in his head to make himself cum… just the sight of the messy blond boy on the bed across from him spilling it too quickly all over himself. Always dazed by it. It was enough to send Patrick into the stratosphere, every fucking time.

And now he’s touching it, gripping it. Swollen purplepink, and heavy. He undoes his own pants. Art’s thrusting into his fist, eager. Hips rolling.

“Skin to skin, gonna feel so good,” Patrick mumbles, it’s nonsense. He’s half out of his mind. He takes hold of his own cock, lined up along Art’s and starts fisting them both. Art on top of him, the only sound is the endless thumping of the music, the squeaking of the bed inline with their hips rocking, and the breathy moans spilling from their mouths.

“Oh fuck. Oh yes,” Art whispers. He has his eyes closed but Patrick can’t stop staring at him. Lips parted, chest heaving, face flushed, hair falling into his eyes, clothes all disheveled. He’s leaning back, palms resting on Patrick’s thighs so he can thrust his cock mindlessly up against Patrick’s. So hot Patrick might die. And then, as always, it’s taking him by surprise. Come spurting out of him, covering Patrick’s fingers, his t-shirt. He’s whining and moaning and gasping “Fuck… oh fuck…yes…”

Patrick’s not far behind him. His fist now coated in jizz he’s gripping them both tighter, fisting them faster. Art’s making these breathless little “oh” noises, so delicious it makes Patrick shiver and then he’s seizing up, his balls tightening as he spills hot sticky strings of pearly come all over his palm, Art’s jeans and his own t-shirt.

“God it’s so fucking hot, you’re so fucking hot….” Patrick whispers, breathlessly as Art settles sleepy onto his chest. Patrick wipes his dirty palm on the bed and ponders vaguely the poor frat boy who’s gonna be taking this blanket to the laundromat. He kisses Art’s mouth, the way he’s always wanted to, and Art sighs into it. He’s got the hiccups all of a sudden, little ones escaping between kisses which is actually kinda fucking adorable. Art rolls off of him eventually, curling up on his side. “Need to…*hiccup*… so sleepy.” He mumbles.

Patrick sighs, looking up at the ceiling as Art starts to drift off. They’ve been drunk as fuck before, even spooned in bed together, but never like this. He’s not sure what just happened but he thinks he’ll go crazy if Art has no memory of it when he wakes up.

[hxrsheykisses]

Hi again Hershey!!! I absolutely LOVED how you wrote my last request abt the hopeless romantic! reader!!! Sorry if this is abrupt, but I wanted to know if you could write about the ETC boys accidentally coming across a love letter addressed to them from the reader?

Like—they would see a letter on the reader’s desk at school, get curious and open it, only to discover that it’s the reader confessing their feelings!!!

It sounded cute in my head ^///^

Anyways!! Take your time writing this and I hope you’re having a good day!!! ^3^

I’m so glad you liked it!! That request was honestly really fun to do and I enjoyed it’ It was honestly so sweet♥️♥️♥️ Rhank you again for requesting!!

It’s been a good couple of weeks after the boys countless attempts at wooing you over and trying to get you to realize what you’re needing is RIGHT here in front of you. But they were losing so much hope because their efforts arent working! It wasn’t you be ungrateful, they know that (hopefully). It’s just that it’s such a shame that you struggle to see it.

One day, at school, the boys always had a routine of walking you to class together. You shared some classes with them and others not so that was the routine. They also waited outside of your class after dismissal.

However, your class was already empty and you weren’t in there—just your stuff at your desk. They were confused as to why you weren’t there anymore since you never leave your class without them. They gave each other some confused looks before making their way to your seat where all of your stuff was laid out. But their eyes caught on a discarded letter and a pencil beside it—which sparked them to be snoopy…

As they took the note from the envelope, they felt their world come to a COMPLETE stop.

BILL’S ROUTE

Bill never felt so high off of cloud 9 before when he snatched the note, reading every word that was neatly written on the piece of paper, his heart skipping with each word.

He would lowkey brag on his friends about it, saying how you are so into him. He claimed proudly that his efforts made through while there’s didn’t. He had finally got you where he wanted you and that’s all that truly matters right now.

He would tease you as well, waving your love letter in the air—saying how he humbly accepts your confession before dragging you away and leaving his friends behind in their sorrows.

JERRY’S ROUTE

Jerry was in utter shock, staring with his jaw dropped as he got finished reading the letter. He ignored his friends groans and complaints as he reread the note over and over and over again. Oh, he just couldn’t believe that you had chosen him.

He would tried to comfort his friends, saying how it wasn’t serious and how it’ll be okay. But they weren’t exactly having it, leaving Jerry feeling a little bit guilty but he still was happy that you had chosen him. Deep down, he believed that his friends wouldn’t treat you like how he would.

Jerry would force his friends to keep the fact that they snooped through your belongings a secret, begging them. He didn’t want you to change your mind about him so he told you the truth on his own terms, he was really anxious about the confession and he apologized. But he’s happy that he won you over!

PETE’s ROUTE

As soon as he saw that the letter was directed towards him, he just went all the way to 100 REAL quick. This boy was literally doing cartwheels around the classroom because he knew that he had won your heart. He is also very braggy to his friends, shoving the middle finger in their face, and other crap. Like he’s so freaking stupid at that moment.

Pete wouldn’t hide the fact that they did in fact were nosy with your items, that wasn’t on his mind when he saw you walking into the classroom. He was just so enthusiastic about being your beloved boyfriend because who wouldn’t? He’ll be a pretty decent boyfriend to you anyway—I mean he proved it to you while he was trying to win you over!

A day never goes by without Pete telling his friends ALLLL about you. He knows that they are pissed and jealous and shit but he doesn’t care. All he knows is that he has fine shyt by his side so nothing else matters💔

JOSH’S ROUTE

Josh shoving EVERYONE out of the way once he saw his name written. He would wave the letter in the air while loudly announcing how his friends are pathetic ass losers who can’t pull any girls and how he basically won the lottery. He’s laughing in their faces while Bill lowkey starts cussing him out (which he pays no mind too)

I swear bro Bill will try to fuck Josh over by loudly shouting at you about how Josh was snooping through your shit to somehow make you reconsider. You don’t. You scolded Josh for a bit, and the others before letting Josh give you a giant bear hug! After, he walked you home—leaving the boys in the dust.

He loves poking a shit ton of fun at Bill because he’s last resort was so desperate that it’s laughable. He made a fool out of himself! This will most likely have Josh kicked out of the club for a day but during that “off” day, he just spent his day with you because who cares about what that dipshit thinks or does?

[literallyjusttoa]

Realizing I also want to keep track of the songs Apollo mentions, so I'm gonna go back real quick and mention "You Send Me" by Sam Cooke, released in 1957, which he mentioned in chapter 2, and "Rise to the Sun" by Alabama Shakes, released in 2012, which he mentions in the opening of chapter 10. Listened to them both, and honestly, they're both great songs! And Rise to the Sun actually fits Apollo really well, I was genuinely surprised.

Going back also makes me realize that Apollo was going to sing an honest to god love song to stop Cade and Mikey. That image will stay with me for years, I think.

Rhea is described as dressing like a "Libyan queen of old" which is interesting, bc I couldn't find any reference to Rhea being an important figure during the period where Ancient Greece had footholds in the region. What's interesting though, is that Apollo definitely was. One of the two cities Greeks established in Libya was Cyrene, and some myths even call the native Libyans the founders of both Delos and Delphi. So like, I have no idea where Rick got the idea of Rhea being connected to Libya, but it helped me learn new things, so that's cool!

Another anecdote: When Apollo drives the sun chariot as a bus, Hermes always sits in the back, because that's where troublemakers sit.

The way Apollo describes his physical state, I'm convinced he's just constantly in excruciating pain. Like, all he does is get off the cot in the Apollo cabin, and he says that his "eyes felt as if they were being microwaved in their sockets." Bestie, what? Are you dying, wtf lmao?

Anecdote: Apollo once attempted target practice in Zeus' throne room. That feels like it might have been a more pointed thing.

Apollo sees Nero in his dreams for the first time in chapter 10, but he doesn't recognize him yet. He spends the rest of the chapter simply referring to him as "The man in the purple suit", "The ugly mauve-suited man", and simply "the ugly man" King behavior, honestly.

I know I made a post about it a while ago, but I still can't get over Apollo's outrageous claim of 33 mortal girlfriends and 11 mortal boyfriends. He has past that in Ancient Greek lovers alone lmao.

Rick does a really good job of writing these long flowing internal monologues for Apollo, only to cut them off with a short sentence that both allows for an easy transition out of Apollo's head and back to the action of the scene, but also simulates Apollo getting distracted in his own ramblings and then abruptly coming back to reality. Like, he goes on for three paragraphs about Nico and will, and then his past loves, and then his embarrassment over sharing his love for Hyacinthus and Daphne, only to end it all off with the short line "I am so confused." and then we're right back into the scene. It's a really great comedic bit, and it does wonders for Lester's characterization. (Also my god does Lester read so much like he has ADHD. Almost more than Percy to me, but then I think Lester's flavor of ADHD is much more similar to my own than Percy's is)

Anecdote: Apollo cosplayed Rocky at midnight showings of Rocky Horror Picture Show. Queen.

Apollo mentions that he filmed the orientation film on "a tight budget in the 1950's" which like, why? Maybe it's mentioned in the supplemental books somewhere, but why would a god ever be put on a budget for something lmao?

"Had I been a god, I would have turned her into a blue-belly lizard and released her into the wilderness never to be seen again. The thought soothed me." One, Apollo she is twelve dear god. Two, I love this as a character moment for Apollo (Stay with me here). Apollo comes from a culture that is so focused on strength and power and violence. The moment he loses control of a situation, he grasps for any way to get power back into his hands. And in these moments, his way of giving himself power is by reassuring himself that he could totally murder everyone here if he wanted to. Killing people is a way to assert control, it's a way that Zeus and the other gods assert control all the time. And there's an implication with Apollo using these lines too. By asserting that he can kill people, it's also an assertion that the people he is threatening cannot kill him. Idk it's just a very interesting way of coping.

Real quick fun fact! Lester describes the Oracle of Delphi in Greece as a "cavern filled with volcanic fumes" but that's not actually 100% correct. The oracle of Delphi in Ancient Greece was actually in the Temple of Apollo, with descriptions from ancient scholars putting her either in the cella or in an adyton that was below the main temple. There was a opening in the ground in this chamber, but it certainly wasn't a cave. Furthermore, the whole idea of Apollo fighting Python in a cave? From what I can tell, this is also not based in myth! Most descriptions of the fight between Apollo and Python that I can find in myth describe Python being coiled around the mountains of the Parnassus range, which is a terrifying image honestly. Just find it interesting that none of the cave stuff is actually a part of the Delphic Oracle. I mean, from what I can tell, the nearest mythologically important cave is the Corycian cave, which has nothing to do with the oracle and is also like a 45 minute drive away from Delphi.

I usually try to read three chapters before rb'ing, but I had so many notes on these two that I'm gonna cut it off here. Also, this has kind of just become pointing out shit I find interesting instead of focusing specifically on Lester-isms, but I'm def still gonna point those out, so the tag will stay. I just have so much to say about my little blorbo, sorry guys.

I think I'm gonna make a reblog chian of all the little phrases and Apollo uses throughout ToA, now that I'm rereading it. Bc like, he has such a unique way of speaking, and I really wanna dig into it, you know? Ok let's start.

He says "heavens help me" instead of "heaven help me" using the plural the same way demigods do with "oh my gods". I'm guessing this is an acknowledgment of other pantheons? Or I'm looking too far into it, I've just never heard this phrase with a plural "heavens" before.

He calls Cade and Mikey "Ruffians" . And he makes fun of the arrow for being Shakespearean.

He also refers to people as "Mortals" a lot here, which I remembered him doing, but now I want to keep track and see if he keeps that up throughout all the books, or if it peters out near the end.

"I thought how amusing it would be if I could make the snake tattoos around his neck come alive and strangle him to death" I honestly love how violent Apollo's thoughts can be sometimes. Like, you can tell he's someone who has done shit like this before.

I also want to keep track of all the little anecdotes Apollo brings up, so we'll start with the guitar contest against Chuck Berry in 1957, which apparently ended with him getting repeatedly stomped on.

"But something told me this was not she" II love how it's the little things that really get across how old Apollo is. Rick could've easily just said "It wasn't her" or something, but instead he had Apollo phrase this in a way that is far more formal, and more reminiscent of the grammatical patterns of old english. Idk it's just really cool.

(Side note that's not connected to Apollo: Meg's glasses are black? I feel like I've been living a lie, I've been coloring them red for years lol)

God his metaphors are just so striking. Like, I can imagine the phrase "Whatever was left of my pride turned into ice water and trickled into my socks" but I don't want to, because that's such a visceral feeling. I like that Apollo inadvertently proving how poetic he is by making the reader as uncomfortable as possible.

I think I'm gonna start crying out "Horrors!" when I'm upset to. I think I deserve that level of drama.

ahh the classic "My blessings upon you!" Again, I love how every little line characterizes him. Either it's overly formal, like before, or subtly arrogant, like here, or both. It's so fun.

I need to write him saying "Sacred Sibyl!" more. Because that is such a fun little term. Rolls right off the tongue, honestly.

I think I'm gonna leave it there for now, but trust that I will definitely be adding more to this later. Bc Lester-speak is so fun to really look into.

[v3lvieraven]

Big squeeze pt.2

Note: I’m so sorry it took so long but I’m back!

Characters- Ace, Deuce, Cater, Jade, Jamil

Warnings- deuce pushing you away, deuce summoning a cauldron onto his head, deuce crushing ace with a cauldron, Jamil giving you the silent treatment

Ace-

• at first I think he wouldn’t like it that much, mainly because it would catch him off guard and he didn’t want to seem vulnerable

• honestly ace would be one of those guys who would squeal then cover it up by yelling because they don’t wanna seem girly

• Ace’s face would be red but yes he likes it (loves it)

• He’d tease you for it a lot, but the moment you revoke his squeezing privileges he’d be a whiny mess

• like a five year old who was told they couldn’t have ice cream type of whiny

• Ace would try, key word is try, to discreetly follow you around until he got what he wanted

• but everyone can tell by the way he’s trailing after you that he’s probably wanting affection

• he’s not very good at hiding his feelings, his face says everything before he can even speak!

• Ace isn’t very used to being the one chasing after someone’s attention, he used to be a playboy after all.

• so it’s strange for him to be feeling this way.

• Once he gets what he wants he’s in pure bliss though, he likes the feeling of being secure in your arms.

• After a long day of dealing with failed potions and deuce summoning a cauldron that ends up falling on him, he’s just happy to recharge in your embrace.

Deuce-

• he’s a lot more of a sweet heart about it

• Deuce definitely likes the squeezing but sometimes it can be a bit much

• so you need to make sure to read his mood before giving him one because it reminds him of his fights he used to get in

• on those days where he needs affection he will ask for one, maybe in his dorm room (he doesn’t want Grimm or Ace to be there) it’s a lot quieter compared to ramshackle

• he will usually lay next to you awkwardly for a while until you get fed up and pull him on top of you, his favorite position

• it’s the easiest way for you to squeeze him, but eventually your arms will get tired

• when that happens he likes to switch positions so you can still give him that sense of pressure and security

• don’t take it to heart if he randomly yells when you do it though, he isn’t mad, just startled

• he accidentally pushed you away a few times, each of those times he summoned a cauldron to drop on himself

• be surprised he doesn’t have brain damage

Cater-

• as long as you don’t do it in public he loves them!

• even though he’s a very social person and seems to not care too much about what others think of him, he does.

• he likes to keep this wall up, only allowing others to see a part of him that isn’t entirely truthful

• but when your alone he feels he can be himself, affectionate and calm

• he doesn’t feel like he needs to hide himself away from you

• he likes when he can just experience something without sharing it with others

• of course he will sometimes post you squeezing him, but those types of posts are rare because even though he loves to show you off, he likes to keep some aspects of your “relationship” (crush, or relationship) private

• he’s the type that likes it every once a while (maybe twice a week?) but overall doesn’t mind it if you do it all the time

• he just thinks it’s nice to be surprised, it feels more special this way, and less suffocating

• when you do squeeze him he always gets flustered, burying his face into your neck

•These are the times you see him smile, and not one he put on just for show, a real smile…

Jade-

• Im not even gonna put it any other way- he will bite you.

• he’s like his brother, mischievous and sneaky, except he doesn’t have so much mood swings as Floyd

• he’d shake his arms around your waist, and before you can continue to squeeze him harder he beats you to it

• he doesn’t do it as hard as Floyd usually does but it still takes your breath away.

• that just makes you love squeezing him even more.

• but be aware you will be getting harassed by Floyd because now he’s jealous and that just will not do!

• Jade likes to be a tease and kiss the place on your neck where pulse can be felt against his lips

• he enjoys how it’s quicker do to the restrained breathing

• “Jade I cant breathe!” You’d say between giggles

• “should’ve thought of that before you squeezed me…” he’d mumble, voice muffled with his lips against your neck

Jamil-

• at first he’s NOT having it

• that’s his personal space man like what the hell do you think your doing?

• once you get in a relationship he’ll be more accepting of if (he loves it)

• he’s never really felt like he could have something to himself so he’s happy that you aren’t doing it with anyone else-

• what’s this? You gave kalim one of your squeezes because he did you a favor?

• que temper tantrum

• I’m talking silent treatment, side eyes, huffs of air, avoiding you like the plague.

• you will literally have to trap him for him to acknowledge you

• of course he misses you but his jealousy is strong, he’s had to give up so many opportunities to serve Kalim and now that he thought he had something for himself, it wasn’t just for him?

• you quickly pick him up bridal style, causing a loud yelp to leave his lips

• he feels you bury your face into the crook of his neck as a hand goes through his hair with a certain care

• “I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you mad… please stop ignoring me..” You said, sounding genuinely confused and hurt.

• damn now he feels like a dick! Especially with how you sound like your abt to cry (srry if your not that type of person)

• “I…don’t worry about it…” he’d grumble

• obviously you don’t take it as that, squeezing him tighter as you change positions so that his legs are now wrapped around your waist, giving you more access to hugging him.

• “I am worried about it though…”

• he sighs hiding his face away with a small groan “I was jealous

•You park up “Hm?”

• “I was jealous of when you squeezed Kalim, I don’t want you doing that with anyone else…but me.” He’d whisper

• that’s when you cup his cheeks and press a kiss to his lips.

•you learned quickly that it was worth it to just share this with him, you’d show your appreciation some other way because this was reserved for Jamil.

[ambigrueity]

Rambling but

Trey is a very subtle character. Unlike most twst memebers a lot about him isn't explicitly said. He spends a lot of his time crafting a perfect image, so an outside perspective of him is difficult to present without there being certain biases in the way characters view him (Leona expecting there to be something more to his dream before realizing no it's just him wanting to bake to his hearts content or Rook believing that he's making tarts filled with love for Riddle but he himself is doing it out of necessity.) He keeps a lot of his emotions close to his chest too so it's not like he's going to talk about it himself. He doesn't soliloquize often. If you noticed in the maze section of Riddle's dream, he barely verbalized his own thoughts about the change in leadership, it was all "cater" driving the conversation. He's introverted and worries a lot about his perception to the point that he stifles what he wants to say in favor of smiling and tentatively manipulating the situation to remain comfortable. (Which Cater points out in Book 1 but THAT got mistranslated from Cater scolding Trey to Cater scolding himself about being more honest with his opinions which doesn't help the lack of understanding that people seem to have) Because he puts so much emphasis on his normalcy, fans seem to have a high expectation for his weirdness when it's kinda been in front of us the whole time. We're not the characters. He's not trying to fool us-- we have an omniscient view into everything he does. So it's obvious looking at it that he has a habit of being smothering/overdoing things. Vil points it out in maschef that he never really gives others space to grow because he's always there to cover every mistake. He hates mustard but believes he can get over it by forcing mustard into every food he can think of until someone had to stop him from putting it in cake and eating it. He's super fixated on dental hygiene and he gets tempted to bake so many different things, purchasing recipe books for fun, before reminding himself to reel it in because making too many would make it so that there was nowhere for those sweets to go. I feel like a lot of people missed a key point of his dream and that is I think Trey feels helpless a lot. A lot of the situations he ends up in are not in his control. So that's why he dotes and placates so that he can try to keep some semblance of it. An illusion of it. So his dream is a place where he doesn't have to do all these things to keep control. He just has it. He has his freedom to do as he likes without it costing him anything. A friend, his parent's dignity, the dorm. He doesn't need to be afraid of any of it. So he allows himself a faulty degree of overindulgence because peace and normalcy doesn't hinge on him. In the real world, every cake he prepared was for peace. But this time the cakes were just cakes. They weren't secretly disguised peace treaties or white flags. In the real world each baked good is within a rule or serves a purpose. In his dream, they can just exist. Just like him. Well anyway sorry brain went all over the place.

[goldfades]

oooo crashout couple idea!!!! luka and reader celebrating libertys first win?????

i think this is my new fav "series", should i make a masterlist cause i have so many fics coming for it<333

The buzzer sounds, echoing through the packed arena, and the moment it does, it’s like the whole world bursts open.

The scoreboard lights up—final score, Liberty on top.

You barely have time to process it before your teammates crash into you, arms wrapping around you, shouts filling your ears. The crowd is roaring, the energy electric, but somehow, through all of it, you only hear one voice.

Luka’s.

You turn instinctively, eyes scanning the courtside seats, and there he is—on his feet, fists clenched, yelling like he just won the damn championship himself.

“LET’S GO, BABY!”

The cameras are already on him—because of course they are. He’s in your jersey, the one he insisted on wearing even though it’s slightly too snug across his broad shoulders, and he looks like he might just sprint onto the court himself.

You swear he nearly does. Security shifts, like they’re anticipating it.

You huff out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. Menace.

But he’s your menace.

And when your eyes meet across the court, Luka doesn’t just give you some polite, sportsmanlike nod.

No, he grins.

Big, wild, unfiltered.

The kind of grin that says, Yeah, I’m in love with you, and what about it?

And just like that, you don’t care about the cameras. You don’t care about the reporters already scribbling down notes about the Crash Out Couple and whatever chaos you’re about to bring to post-game.

All you care about is him.

And the way he’s looking at you like you just hung the damn moon.

--

Dinner is loud.

Your whole team is buzzing—high off the win, high off the adrenaline, high off the satisfaction of shutting down everyone who thought the Liberty were about to fold under pressure.

The restaurant is one of those dimly lit, upscale-but-still-lively places in the city where athletes and celebrities go to celebrate without completely being left alone. The air is thick with the scent of grilled steak and garlic butter, plates clinking, glasses being refilled before they even have a chance to empty.

And in the middle of it all, sitting next to you with his hand on your thigh like he needs to be touching you at all times, is Luka.

He’s trying—he really is.

He’s leaning in when your teammates talk, nodding at the right moments, even throwing in a couple of mhms and yeah, that’s crazy in an attempt to keep up with the fast-paced conversation.

But he’s outnumbered.

Badly.

At one point, Sabrina and Jonquel get into a heated discussion about defensive rotations, and you watch Luka’s brain short-circuit in real-time. He’s a franchise player, a basketball genius, but for some reason, this—being surrounded by a table full of hyper-competitive, opinionated, no-nonsense WNBA stars—is the thing that has him sweating.

You press your lips together, hiding your grin behind the rim of your wine glass.

It’s adorable.

This is the same man who drops 40-point triple-doubles like they’re nothing, who talks so much trash on the court it should be illegal, who once got into a screaming match with a ref in three different languages.

And yet, right now?

Right now, he’s nervously swirling the ice in his drink, completely unsure how to insert himself into the chaos.

Sabrina side-eyes him. “Luka, what do you think?”

Luka freezes, his hand tightening slightly on your thigh. “Huh?”

The table erupts in laughter.

You feel him exhale, his head dropping slightly, and it kills you how cute it is.

You pat his cheek, barely suppressing your amusement. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to keep up.”

He groans, tilting his head back dramatically. “Man, I’m trying.”

The teasing doesn’t let up after that.

Your teammates love this—getting to rattle Luka Dončić a little, reminding him that, despite all the MVP chatter and franchise player status, here, he’s just your boyfriend.

And Luka takes it, shaking his head, smirking, playing along even though you can tell he’s still a little overwhelmed.

But one thing about your man?

No matter where he is, no matter who’s around—he’s always going to have his hands on you.

Throughout dinner, his touch never leaves you.

His palm on your thigh, fingers tracing mindless patterns. His hand drifting up to squeeze your waist when you shift in your seat. His thumb brushing over your knuckles when he takes your hand in his. At one point, he rests his elbow on the back of your chair, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair, absentminded but so possessive.

And every time your teammates try to clown him, every time they tease him about being too quiet, about being so in love it’s making him shy, Luka just shrugs.

Like he knows.

Like he doesn’t care.

Like he’s completely fine with all of them seeing the way he needs to be close to you.

Like he’s saying, Yeah, I’m in love with her. And?

And honestly?

You love it.

[shuenkio]

Secret Secret — ࣪𖤐 승민 .ᐟ

۫ ꣑ৎ Synopsis: They say, as a gay, never fall for the straight guy who’s affectionate and kind. But what happens when the straight guy finds himself falling for you instead?

۫ ꣑ৎ Paring: Seungmin x m!reader

۫ ꣑ৎ Genre: Fluff. ۫ ꣑ৎ Cw: none.

۫ ꣑ৎ non proof read ۫ ꣑ৎ Eng is not my 1st

۫ ꣑ৎ This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

"Here!" He grabs your palm, place a chocolate bar all of the sudden. Causing you to furrow your brows, bewildered the scene.

"But what for?" You asked, still not recognizing his intentions yet. Today was Valentine's day, where everyone gave gifts or received them, and also the day of confessing their feelings to their loved ones you get it. But one thing that was odd was, Seungmin, the excellent and attractive employee in the company was the one who gave you, out all of the other girls, who had a big fat crush on him yet he chose you instead? Should you be happy or sad?

"idiot, it's Valentine day aigoo" the taller scoffed a heavy sigh before walk off, shove his hands back into his pocket act as if this never happened. You scratch the back of your head, unable to react to such a situation since never in your life receive gifts on Valentine's day.

"....what?" Once Seungmin is gone, all your co-workers beside you suddenly circling around like flies, some scream while some are even more excited than you. Who wouldn't when is THE Kim Seungmin, the nonchalantly blunted guy, out of the blue giving you a gift out of everyone, this should be displayed in the museum for real.

"Yaaaa M/N aren't you so lucky to get such gift??" Once say.

"UGH what did you do last live to live in my dream right now!!" Twice say.

"Gosh I better not hear you reject him, or Imma drowning you in this can" thrice say.

"reject? What reject, this is just a small gift right?" Keeping it low, there's no way he was y'know... Into guy? How is it possible if that was such an outright way to ask you out. Groaning was heard once you responded. Ever since you've been working here for god knows how long together with Seungmin, the latter will always find his way to take care of m/n secretly, giving rides home, act of service, helping m/n when he's struggling and gosh, there's so many. However, you don't think that kind of way, as a hopeless romantic guy from all the way childhood to this age now, you realized that you'll never find love since you're a homosexual. Never experience the high school love nor any kind of relationship ever. So when somebody is acting this way, you thought it was normal, isn't it?

"how dumb are you, Don't you notice how he acts when it comes to you ? You're the favoritesm" once say.

"true true, we get nothing during the new years eve but you got a fucking Rolex watch from him" twice say.

"m/n listen to us alright? If you're not certain about him, go ask him if it was worth the try, that man is not the straight forward one— we know how you feel when this happened but think Abt it, it has been a year now— but if you don't do anything, don't say we don't spare mercy, anything is possible just to make you say one word" thrice say.

Their advice lingers on your head. Face resting on your palm, pouting. Tskk it's actually a pretty serious thing for them and you tho, looking back to all the memories it sounds like you are his favorite indeed, as the time goes on it's far more than his favorite person.

"fine okay... I'll ask him this evening, I have dinner with him though" you stated, and focus on finishing your work. While your co-workers went back to their place with a happy grin spread across their face.

"kiss me~ don't say no—"

A sleek, jet-black luxury car rolled to a stop right outside the building, its polished body reflecting the dim lights in a way that made it look almost too perfect to be real. The engine gave a soft hum, like a low purr, almost too smooth to be true.

Then, the door opened—wide, welcoming. Like it was waiting for you.

For a second, you stood there, blinking. Was this really happening? This was getting a little too real, like something straight out of a movie.

You snapped out of it, stepping into the car with a mix of hesitation and something else—you weren’t entirely sure. The leather seat felt too soft, the smell of clean luxury wrapping around you. It was like you were in a different world, one where all of this was normal, and you weren’t still trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

You reached for the seatbelt, your fingers a little more unsteady than they should’ve been. As you finally settled in, you glanced at Seungmin.

His face was relaxed, eyes forward, fingers steady on the steering wheel—but there was that smirk at the corner of his mouth. That little smirk that made everything too damn real.

"All set?" he asked, his voice smooth and casual, like this wasn’t completely out of place.

Before you could even answer, the engine roared to life beneath you. The car glided forward, the world outside blurring as you were pulled deeper into whatever this was—whatever he was.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Seungmin, his eyes just flicking toward you for a second, that smirk still there, as if he knew exactly what was running through your mind.Yeah. You were definitely in trouble now.

( in third pov )

The soft hum of conversation filled the air as M/N and Seungmin stepped into the restaurant. The warm glow of fairy lights draped across the ceiling cast a golden hue over the Valentine’s-themed decor—roses in crystal vases, flickering candles, and a breathtaking view of the ocean stretching beyond the glass windows. The faint scent of saltwater mixed with the aroma of fresh pasta and wine. It was undeniably romantic. Too romantic.

M/N swallowed, eyes darting around. It wasn’t that he minded being here with Seungmin, but something about the atmosphere made his chest feel a little tight, his heart just a little too aware. And maybe—just maybe—it had to do with the nagging feeling creeping up on him lately.

Seungmin strolled up to the reception desk, hands in pockets, his usual composed demeanor unreadable. The receptionist, a cheerful woman with a clipboard, greeted them with a bright smile.

"Ah, welcome! Table for two? Are you a couple?"

M/N immediately parted his lips to say No, but before the word could form, Seungmin, ever so casual, nodded and replied, "Yes."

The receptionist beamed.

"Oh, wonderful! Happy Valentine’s Day! You’ll be getting our couple’s discount!"

M/N blinked, a sharp inhale catching in his throat. Excuse me?

Seungmin, on the other hand, remained perfectly unbothered, only lifting a brow at M/N as if to say, What? It’s a discount.

M/N’s mind spiraled in a dozen different directions. Was it just for the sake of the discount? Or was this something else? Something that confirmed that inkling feeling he’d been trying to ignore for weeks?

Still slightly dazed, he followed Seungmin to their table near the floor-to-ceiling window. The restaurant was nestled on a cliffside, giving them an uninterrupted view of the sea. The waves shimmered under the soft glow of the moon, the distant city lights twinkling against the horizon. It was the kind of place lovers would dine at, whispering sweet nothings over candlelit dinners.

And here M/N was, sitting across from Seungmin—Seungmin, who was all nonchalance, leaning back against the seat, sipping water like he hadn’t just thrown M/N’s entire world off its axis.

The meal went by in a blur, M/N hyper-aware of every brush of movement, every fleeting glance. Seungmin, of course, was the same as always, his aloof expression unreadable, his voice carrying that low, effortless ease. And M/N? M/N felt like he was malfunctioning internally.

Then, just as M/N thought he was in the clear, Seungmin casually slid something across the table.

A box. Wrapped neatly with a ribbon.

M/N stared at it. Then at Seungmin. Then back at the box.

"...What’s this?" His voice came out quieter than intended.

Seungmin tilted his head slightly. "A gift."

M/N hesitated. He could already feel the heat creeping up his neck, fingers trembling slightly as he tugged at the ribbon. The box opened with a soft click—inside, nestled in velvet, was a delicate silver bracelet. The charm attached to it was subtle, but M/N recognized the design instantly. It was something he had offhandedly admired months ago while window shopping—something he hadn’t even realized Seungmin had noticed.

M/N’s breath hitched.

His chest felt tight again, but for an entirely different reason.

"...Do you like it?" Seungmin asked, tone as indifferent as ever, but his eyes—those deep, steady eyes—held something softer. Something patient.

M/N swallowed hard, nodding, his voice refusing to work.

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. And maybe it was the dim lighting, maybe it was the leftover adrenaline from earlier, or maybe—just maybe—it was the fact that everything was finally making sense.

M/N clenched his fists under the table, gathering every ounce of courage he had.

"...Do you," he exhaled slowly, pulse hammering, "like me?"

Seungmin didn’t blink. Didn’t even hesitate.

He leaned back, exuding that same effortless calm, and said, "I thought that was obvious."

M/N’s heart stopped.

And just like that, everything he had been trying to ignore crashed over him like a tidal wave.

Seungmin watched as M/N sat there, frozen, his fingers twitching slightly against the table. His lips parted like he wanted to say something—anything—but nothing came out. His wide eyes, the way his breath hitched, the sheer disaster of emotions playing out on his face—Seungmin almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

With a sigh, Seungmin leaned back, arms crossing over his chest. "You know," he started, voice even, "I figured you’d be like this."

M/N finally blinked, snapping out of whatever internal meltdown he was going through. "...Like what?"

Seungmin tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "Hopeless," he said bluntly. "A hopeless romantic who’s spent his whole life thinking love was something out of reach just because you’ve never had it before." He exhaled through his nose, tapping his fingers against the table. "And yeah, I knew you’d overthink this. But honestly? I don’t care."

M/N stiffened, his breath caught in his throat. "You—"

"I don’t care," Seungmin repeated, this time with a slow, deliberate shrug. "Because I already like you." His gaze was steady, unwavering. "And there’s nothing you can do about that."

M/N’s chest tightened.

Seungmin watched him, as if waiting, as if knowing exactly what was running through his mind. Then, with that same lazy, deadpan tone, he added, "So? What now? You gonna run away? Or are you finally gonna admit you like me back?"

M/N felt his heart lurch. He swallowed thickly, mind racing.

And then, finally, finally, he let out a breath and muttered, "...Fine." His voice was quiet, but firm. "Yes."

Seungmin smirked, like he had just won some long-awaited game. He lifted his glass, taking a sip of water, before setting it down with a soft clink.

"Yeah," he said, exhaling like this was nothing new. "Thought so."

M/N groaned, slumping against the table. He was so done for.

A/n: Guy guess what? I'm doing this experiment with Seungmin y'all!! I'm kicking my feet, giggling, & ate some wall while writing this 😋 my favorite so far— I'd love some comments, like really!!! Should I continue or whatever.

Funtalk: I can't help but to post this in advance, because valentines are 4 more days and I can't wait to see y'all reaction, so yeah...

[cindol]

micheal kaiser x fem reader . ( drabble . )

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ — small smut, p in v, crack, kissing,

even before marrying i feel like kaiser would still want some kind of bracelet or ring on your body to signify your his and he’s yours.

he knows your boundaries and agreed on not marrying till you’re both in a stage of life to where it’s possible. (for kaiser he wants to marry you when he goes pro) . So he’s taking you to the best jewlery store he knows.

hand rubbing at the low of your back so you felt more comfortable picking out the rings.

when you did finally choose those rings to wear he never shut the fuck up about them or stopped touching at your wrist and fingers.

in the mornings he was waking you up to kissing at the golden ring on your ring finger and at night when he’s relaxing with you he’s doing the same thing.

you know kaiser is a touchy person, it’s a known fact with him that he thrives on physical touch in relationships but you had no idea really how touchy he could be until that ring.

sex is completely anew. His new obsession was seeing the gold ring on your finger while making love. Almost all the time now he wanted you on underneath him.

while you were moaning and whimpering so softly he was working his hips to give you thrusts that hit that squishy spot inside you real nice. Intertwining his hands with yours so he could rub his thumb on your ring finger to feel that golden band around it.

you were writhing around with your legs autonomously wrapped around his waist while your arms were wrapped around his neck for some kind of grounding. But of course even in a setting like this kaiser asked the silliest question.

“hey, kiss.” saying it breathlessly while a finger pointed at his lips.

you were still dazed, a little pouty with how he abruptly stopped his movements and confused. “kai… wha…huh?”

kaiser cleared his throat, repeating himself again. “a kiss, liebling. I think a man should get a kiss in such an intimate moment, no?”

you could only whine at that. This was just like kaiser to decide to pause sex just to ask for a kiss. And you undoubtedly gave it to him wanting him moving inside you and hitting that sweet spot instead cockwarming him.

but the kiss wasn’t enough for him, it was really just a peck on the lips to him and made him tsk and tut. “that’s not what i mean by a kiss liebing.” he sighed, playing up his dramatized disappointment before he leaned in to really show you.

once his lips were on yours he dominated yours like he did in any field. He practically swallowed any gasps, mewls, and moans you had in your throat. His tongue fought with yours and came on top. Just to keep you on your feet he started moving his hips again with a agonizing slow pace but rough thrusts.

because kaiser loves his future wife that much.

[rvmanoffbarnes]

Lingered looks || Joseph Quinn x Actress Reader!

Summary: Joseph and you can feel the tension. What will happen if both of you listen to what the're feeling?

Warning: The next one shot contains explicit content and sex scenes. MDNI.

They say that the eyes say more than words.

Apparently, the gazes between me and Joseph meant something beyond words.

The tension between us could easily be cut with a knife. Joseph was just inches away from me as we walked to the hotel elevator. It had been a busy day after doing interviews for our new movie and meeting some fans.

The elevator doors greet us and Joseph gestures with his hand to let me through first. "After you," he says with a slight smile. I thank him and enter the space, followed by him. The doors close and silence envelops us. It's only a few seconds until the Brit decides to break it.

"Are you tired?" he asks me. I can only nod my head. "It was a lot for one day. Honestly, this is what i hate about being an actress," I joke.

He laughs at that.

"Are you tired?" I ask him, looking at his profile. He has a beard from days ago and I notice that his shaved hair is growing longer every day.

He grimaces and leans against the elevator wall. "I still have a little energy left," he admits, "I have to use it all up before I can let myself go to bed." I raise an eyebrow at his response.

Usually, I do the opposite, even if I have energy left, I decide to go to bed anyway. These last few days, stress has consumed my being, so I opt for the healthy decision of putting aside the activities I had planned for our day off. Tomorrow I would make sure to get as much sleep as possible before going back to work.

"What will you do to spend that energy?" I ask him curiously.

He seems to think about it for a few seconds before turning to look at me, at the same time the doors open.

"I'll see if something comes up" A smile sneaks across his face.

We leave the elevator and he walks next to me with his hands in his pants pockets until he leaves me at the door of the room where I am staying. I stop in front of it and take out the card so I can open the door and get inside to rest for the rest of the night. I keep the card in my hands and neither of us seem to move.

These days I have felt a palpable tension between us, which has only increased every day since we had to share more moments together between the two of us to make the chemistry of our characters much more real. Although I have worked with Joseph before, the director asked us to deepen our relationship so that the friendly connection we had would be reflected in the film. Now, of course, we had to have a couple chemistry. I didn't think beyond the topic; I was an actress and my job was to be able to bring those emotions to life and to the film. However, I have been hearing my heart race every time Joseph and the character he played approached me for a scene or in our daily routine together.

I was almost sure it happened to both of us.

I bite my inner cheek and smile at him.

"Okay. This is it," I say in an attempt to break the silence that surrounds us. Joseph looks at the door and then guides his gaze to me. He nods and licks his lips, leaning his shoulder against the wall.

"Yeah...." he says.

I don't know what I expect exactly. The only thing that is clear to me is that neither of us wants to say goodbye at all. His gaze persists on me and a shine appears in his brown orbits. Joseph clears his throat as if suddenly reacting. He straightens his posture and points to the door with his hand and then puts it back in his pocket. "Well, I guess I'll leave you to it," he mentions, "Have a good night, (Y/N)."

I smile. Almost dissapointed. I wonder why.

"Goodnight, Joseph"

He starts to back away and then turns his back on me to walk to his room which is a few doors away from mine. Before I can enter, he turns around and says:

"If you need anything," he begins. I look at him feeling my heart stop for a second "you know where I am."

I swallow and nod my head.

"Same here"

He smiles and waves his hand goodbye. We both go into our respective rooms and I close the door, leaning my back against it. A sigh escapes my lips and my eyes close. Heat invades my cheeks and I run my hand over my forehead. I take my bag off my shoulder and leave it hanging on the coat rack on the wall. Not even 10 seconds pass after I do that and I already hear someone knocking on my door with three firm and urgent knocks.

I open the door and widen my eyes when I see Joseph with a serious expression, which when he sees me changes to one of desire and desperation.

"Actually I do need something" he says.

Before I can ask him what, he kisses my lips fiercely. He grabs my waist with his arms and I allow myself to react to wrap my arms around his neck. In an agile and quick movement he leans his body back, still hugging me, to close the door. He gently pushes me against the wall and explores my mouth with his tongue.

He breaks away for a brief moment to look me in the eyes. He has his dark, eager gaze, his mouth slightly open and then whispers: "I couldn't take this anymore," he admits with heavy breathing.

He brings a hand to my cheek and looks directly at me.

"Joseph..." I say in a whisper. I have a whirlwind of emotions after what just happened.

He shakes his head dejectedly.

"If you don't want me to continue, I'll stop now and go to my room," he says. "It all depends on you."

I lick my lips and take his hand that is on my cheek to slide it around my waist. I smile slightly at him and say:

"Who says I want to stop?" He growls and smiles.

That action I do allows him to continue devouring my mouth as if there were no tomorrow. He pins his body with mine against the wall and spreads my legs with his knee, rubbing his pants against my underwear-covered crotch, which is now a wet mess. It's incredible the ability he has to make me wet in such a short time, just with a fierce kiss. He slides his hands from my waist to my butt to knead it as he wants. This causes me to cry because of the delicious sensation and I cling much more to his body, the word distance disappears as soon as he decides to continue squeezing my cheeks to his liking.

"Mhm...." I moan, clutching at his shirt desperately. I feel ashamed to be in that state so quickly, but after months of tension on the verge, I honestly shouldn't care about it.

He smiles amused and sighs against my lips. "I know we're going too fast, but it's impossible not to enjoy your body and your lips like this," he admits agitatedly.

"Please, Joseph. Don't lie to yourself; we've been wanting this for months," I say firmly and sure of my answer, even though I'm agitated. "To hell with the wait."

Joseph reacts to my words and continues kissing my lips passionately. He lifts the skirt of my dress and massages my ass like he owns it. With more and more lack of control. I venture to unbutton the buttons of his shirt clumsily, but when I manage to do so, he steps away from me for a few seconds and, without taking his eyes off me, takes off his shirt in a hasty movement. This gives me time to start taking off my dress. I lower the strap on one shoulder and then the other, feeling cold as my tits are exposed. I'm not wearing a bra.

"Oh, darling..." he moans.

He takes my waist again and connects his lips with mine. He walks with me until he sits on the edge of the bed and watches me with puppy eyes.

"I want you" he says.

"Then take me," I say.

I settle into his lap and finish lowering the dress with his help. I feel it fall to the ground and I sit back down on Joseph's lap. He looks at me pleadingly for a moment.

"Can...?" He points to my body, to which I nod. The brown-haired man runs his hands slowly over my skin, enjoying the moment. I lean on his shoulders while I'm only wearing my panties. I start kissing his neck at the same time that Joseph raises his hand to my tit, playing with it, while the other holds my waist. I let out a moan, moving closer to him. My hips take on a life of their own and begin to move against his crotch. Joseph curses under his breath and grabs my hips to move them urgently on top of him.

"I need you to tell me if... oh, fuck...." he doesn't stop the movements of my hips on him "I need you to tell me if you want to do it soft or hard."

I lick my lips.

“Fuck me hard, please,” I whimper.

I can't stand the pressure that forms in my lower area. My panties feel so sticky I just want to rip them off. Joseph moans and begins to unbutton his pants, kissing my neck. I stretch it so he can taste my skin better.

I feel his pants and boxers fall to the floor. I look down and see how excited he is. I smile and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The tip of his member is red and dripping precum from the situation. Joseph looks me in the eyes and smiles amused. He lowers his gaze to my lips while with his fingers he moves my panties aside and begins to caress and spread my clitoris.

"So wet. Is it for me?" He asks and I move against his fingers. "Yes, Joseph," I say, throwing my head back. "Please... it's just for you."

Joseph chuckles softly. He inserts three fingers again and again until he sees that I am at his complete disposal. He removes them and I instantly miss the sensation. Joseph licks his fingers clean and I swear the action he does can't look any hotter. He closes his brown eyes and enjoy my taste.

"Delicious," he says with a grimace, "just as I imagined."

I groan when I see it.

He places his hand on my cheek. "Do you want me to take control or would you rather ride me?" ask. So gentlemanly and thoughtful of him. I think about it for a few seconds, but with a mischievous smile I answer: "I want to ride you"

Joseph chuckles.

He lays on the bed with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Go ahead, darling"

"I'm clean," I tell him.

"Me too" he smiles in a sincere tone.

And that's enough for me.

I lower my body until I feel his hard member at my entrance and without thinking twice I get into it. I let out a pleasant whimper at the new sensation and watch as Joseph's face is invaded by pleasure.

"Fuck" he groans.

He grabs my hips and begins to guide me with the movements. I rest my hands on Joseph's chest, feeling the small hairs brush against my fingers.

"Oh Joseph," I stifle a moan.

"That's right, beautiful, take all of me" he pushes his hips against mine.

The obscene sound of our bodies is confused with our moans throughout the room. I'm about to cum. I need a little more stimulation, so I take one of his hands that is imprisoning my hip and guide it to my tit. He seems to understand what I want, so he starts massaging it and playing with my nipple. "So beautiful... oh, god" he says.

I moan. This time i'm moving faster.

"Joseph... i'm gonna cum" i admit.

He barely nods with his eyes closed.

"Yes, beautiful, cum for me" he lifts his body a little and hits deep into my body

"I'm ready too." A few more seconds pass until the climax reaches us. "Fuck!"

I feel all his semen spread in me, at the same time that I cum on top of him.

"Oh god" I try to catch my breath and feel him take me by the waist and gently lay me down next to him. I hug him and he smiles at me, looking into my eyes.

"Hey"

"Hey..." I say with a smile.

The rooms smells like sex and the temperatures is increasing.

"That was... incredible," he mentions. I nod my head.

He caresses my cheek softly and tenderly. "I don't want you to think that this will be a one-night thing," he begins by saying seriously, "I really want to try it with you."

My heart races.

"Only if you want it too," he adds. I kiss him to answer him. Joseph corresponds to me, and as we part I tell him:

"I would love to try it, Joseph."

He smiles and kiss my forehead.

"Joseph?" I ask.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Did you waste that energy left?"

He laughs.

"Yeah. I did"

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

Hi! I hope u enjoy this one shot... i'm so bad writing smut.

[come-as-you-are-111]

do a minsu x reader where minsu cry’s over smth and reader hugs and comforts him because he isn’t afraid to cry and he falls in love with her cause she i kind and sweet and she’s had a crush on him

Falling For You

Warnings: ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!

The dorm is quieter than usual. It’s one of those rare moments between games where no one is talking, no one is fighting—just the sound of slow breathing, the occasional rustle of blankets, and the quiet weight of survival sinking in.

And then, you see him.

Min-Su sits on the edge of his bunk, hunched forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His hands are clasped together, fingers anxiously twisting the fabric of his jumpsuit. His head is bowed low, his shoulders rising and falling with unsteady breaths.

You hesitate.

It’s not often you see someone openly upset here. People usually swallow their emotions, bury them deep down, because in the Squid Game, weakness is dangerous. It’s a place that forces you to be numb, to pretend you don’t feel a damn thing.

But Min-Su isn’t like the others.

He always felt things deeply, and he wasn’t afraid to show it. And that’s exactly why you’re drawn to him.

Taking a quiet step closer, you lower your voice. “Min-Su?”

His head lifts slightly, and even in the dim light, you catch the faint shine of tears before he quickly wipes them away with the sleeve of his jumpsuit.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his voice rough, unsteady. “I know it’s stupid to get emotional here.”

Your heart clenches. “It’s not stupid.”

You sit beside him, close enough that your knee brushes his, but you don’t press him to talk. You just wait, letting him decide if he wants to let you in.

For a moment, all he does is exhale slowly, rubbing a hand down his face before finally whispering, “It’s just… everything. The games. The people we’ve lost. And I keep wondering if I’ll make it out—if any of us will.”

He shakes his head, staring down at his hands. “I don’t want to be another nameless body on the floor.”

There’s something so heartbreakingly human in the way he says it, and before you can stop yourself, you reach out—your fingers gently curling around his hand.

His breath hitches at the contact, his gaze flickering to yours, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans into it, like he needs it.

And then you move without thinking, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a firm, warm embrace.

At first, he freezes, like he’s not used to this kind of comfort. But then, ever so slowly, he lets go—his hands gripping the back of your jumpsuit as if holding onto you is the only thing keeping him grounded.

His breath is warm against your shoulder, uneven, but he doesn’t hide it. He doesn’t try to mask the way his body trembles slightly against yours.

“I hate that we’re stuck in this place,” you murmur against his shoulder. “But I’m glad I met you.”

His arms tighten around you, as if those words alone are enough to steady him. When he finally pulls back, his eyes search yours—soft, vulnerable, something unspoken lingering between you.

“You mean that?”

You nod, your heart hammering.

You’d had a crush on Min-Su since the moment you first spoke to him—since you realized he wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t ruthless. He wasn’t selfish. He cared.

And right now, looking at you like this, something in his gaze shifts—like he’s seeing you in a way he never has before.

“You’re too kind for this place,” he whispers, his fingers still gently holding onto your sleeve. “That’s why I—” He stops himself, shaking his head with a small, breathless laugh. “I think I’m falling for you.”

Your stomach flips, warmth spreading through your chest, but it’s more than just a crush now. It’s something real, something that exists despite the chaos around you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you squeeze his hand. “Then at least we’re in this together.”

And for the first time in days, he smiles.

A/n: hi my lil monsters! How we likey? First min-su fic and this request is honestly so cute and I just knew I had to do it! If you have any request send em in!

Love ya, Twilight

squid game taglist:

@amoristt @lousypotatoes @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @takuma-talkz @sxmmerchxld @multifandomgirllol @gizaspicebag @truefandemonium

[rik0shii]

Part 2: Love in the Aftermath

this is a part 2 of this

The days following the concert were suffocating.

You thought you had mastered the art of pretending, of shoving your past so deep inside that it could never crawl its way back out. But Jiyong’s presence, that single glance during his performance, had shattered everything you had built to protect yourself.

You hadn’t spoken to him in years. No messages, no late-night calls, not even an accidental run-in at the YG building. The world had built walls between you two, and you had let them stand. But now? Now it felt like those walls had been made of paper, burning at the edges from the briefest of sparks.

And then he texted you.

“Can we talk?”

The message sat there on your screen, glowing in the dimly lit studio where you were still winding down from practice. Your group was still together—2NE1 was still standing, still making music—but you had ventured into solo activities too. It wasn’t a departure, just another part of your journey. Music was in your blood, just as it was in his. You had moved on, built something new, something that didn’t revolve around him.

So why did it feel like his words could unravel all of it?

You should’ve ignored it. You should’ve deleted it, let the past stay buried. But instead, before you could second-guess yourself, you found yourself typing:

“Where?”

His answer came quickly.

“The old place.”

Your breath hitched. The café. Your café. A quiet little corner of Seoul where, years ago, love had been simple, untouched by the pressures of the industry. A place that had once been yours and his alone.

You knew going was a mistake. But you went anyway.

Familiar Faces, Unfamiliar Silence

The café was exactly as you remembered it, down to the way the warm scent of coffee clung to the air. It was quieter now, a slow afternoon, only a few people scattered across the room.

And there he was.

Jiyong sat at the corner booth, the one you used to share, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of a coffee cup. His mint-green hair fell slightly over his eyes, a soft contrast to his usual bold colors. It suited him—ethereal yet striking, like he had stepped out of a dream. And though he looked nearly the same, there was something different about him. The exhaustion in his features was new. The way his shoulders seemed to carry a weight heavier than before.

For a moment, you hesitated. You could turn around, pretend you never saw him, pretend you never answered his message. But you had come all this way, and a part of you—one you hated—wanted to hear what he had to say.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over and slid into the seat across from him.

“Hey,” you said softly.

His gaze snapped up to meet yours, and for a second, his carefully crafted mask of indifference cracked. His eyes softened, something unreadable flickering behind them. “Hey.”

Silence stretched between you, thick with years of unspoken words. You had expected him to speak first, to have some kind of prepared speech about why he had called you here. Instead, he just… stared. As if he couldn’t believe you were real, sitting in front of him again.

Finally, he exhaled, setting his cup down. “I didn’t know how to reach out before.” His voice was quieter than you remembered, lacking the effortless confidence he once carried. “But I can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine. Like we’re fine. Because we’re not, are we?”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting deeper than they should have.

“No,” you admitted. “We’re not.”

Jiyong sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve been thinking about us. About everything. And I—” He hesitated, then leaned forward slightly, voice lowering as if afraid of being overheard. “I regret how things ended.”

A bitter laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “Do you?”

His jaw tensed. “Yeah. I do.”

You looked away, your fingers clenching into the fabric of your jeans. “You left first, Jiyong. You were the one who walked away.”

“I know.” His voice was raw, and when you looked back at him, you saw it—the regret, the self-loathing. The years had changed him, and maybe, just maybe, he had spent them regretting the same things you had.

“I wasn’t ready,” he admitted. “I thought I was protecting us. The pressure, the rumors, YG breathing down our necks—I thought if we walked away, it would be easier. That it would hurt less.”

A sharp pain stabbed at your chest. “Did it?”

Jiyong let out a breath, his lips pressing into a thin line. “No.”

That single word felt heavier than any apology he could have given.

“I don’t know if we can fix this,” you admitted.

Jiyong nodded, as if he had already prepared himself for that answer. “I don’t either. But I’d like to try.”

You looked at him for a long time. At the man who had once been your entire world. The man who had left you in ruins. The man who was now sitting in front of you, asking for a chance to put those ruins back together.

For now, you weren’t ready to say yes.

But you weren’t ready to say no, either.

Maybe that was enough.

For now.

The Stage That Brought Us Back Together

You weren’t sure how it happened. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was just the universe playing another cruel joke.

But somehow, a month after that café meeting, Jiyong was standing backstage at your solo concert.

The idea had started as a joke—CL had offhandedly mentioned it one night when you were brainstorming surprises for your setlist. “What if you bring out a guest? Something huge?”

You had laughed it off, but later that night, as you stared at your phone, the idea wouldn’t leave your mind.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you had texted him.

“Want to surprise the world?”

His response came minutes later.

“Always.”

And now, standing behind the curtain, hearing the deafening screams of the crowd, you could feel your heart pounding. The intro to your song—the one you had written with him years ago—was playing. The audience had no idea what was about to happen.

Then, as the beat dropped, you stepped forward. And right behind you, stepping into the spotlight for the first time in years, was G-Dragon.

The crowd exploded.

Jiyong smirked slightly, his familiar stage presence slipping over him like second skin. He raised his mic, and the second his voice rang through the stadium, you felt it—this was meant to happen.

The performance was electric. Every verse, every note, every glance between you and him felt like the past and present colliding.

And then, as the final note faded, Jiyong stepped closer. His hand found your waist, and before you could even process it, his lips were on yours.

The stadium erupted.

Cameras flashed. The internet would break. But in that moment, nothing else mattered.

The Interview That Confirmed It All

Days after the performance that shook the entire industry, you and Jiyong sat side by side in an exclusive interview. The air buzzed with anticipation, cameras rolling, lights bright, and the interviewer practically beaming with excitement.

“So, let’s address the question on everyone’s mind,” she said, leaning forward with a playful grin. “The IT couple of YG—are you officially back together?”

Jiyong didn’t hesitate. He glanced at you with a smirk before turning to the interviewer. “What do you think?”

The interviewer laughed as the studio audience—handpicked VIP fans—erupted in cheers. You shook your head, suppressing a smile, but before you could say anything, Jiyong continued.

“I mean,” he shrugged, squeezing your hand where it rested on your lap, “I don’t think we ever really stopped belonging to each other. We just took a long… very long break.”

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Jiyong smirked, leaning back in his seat. “Sounds better than ‘years of painful separation and stolen glances,’ doesn’t it?”

The interviewer gasped dramatically. “So you were keeping an eye on each other all these years?”

Your lips pressed together as heat crept up your neck. “I mean…” you hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “You don’t just forget someone like him.”

Jiyong turned to look at you, something softer in his gaze now, his thumb rubbing slow circles against the back of your hand. “I never forgot you either,” he said, voice just above a whisper, but the mic still caught it.

The interviewer sighed dramatically, clutching her chest. “I swear, this is like a K-drama playing out in real life.”

The audience laughed, but the energy in the room shifted—this wasn’t just a reunion for fan service. It was real.

“So tell us,” the interviewer continued, “how did this comeback performance even happen? Did you two plan it from the beginning?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Not at all. It started as a joke. CL suggested bringing out a huge guest, and I don’t know, I guess a part of me wanted to see if he’d say yes.”

Jiyong shot you a playful glare. “You didn’t think I would?”

You smirked. “Well, you haven’t exactly been easy to reach these past few years.”

The crowd let out an “Ooooh,” and Jiyong chuckled, rubbing his neck. “Okay, I deserved that.” Then he turned serious, his grip on your hand tightening. “But when you texted me? I didn’t even have to think about it. The answer was always yes.”

The interviewer clapped her hands together, clearly enjoying every second of this. “So what was that moment like? On stage together again, after everything?”

Jiyong exhaled, leaning back in his seat. “It was… surreal. Like nothing had changed, and yet everything had.” He turned to you again. “The moment we started performing, it felt like home.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah,” you whispered. “It did.”

“And that kiss?” The interviewer gasped. “That wasn’t scripted, was it?”

You laughed, hiding your face in your hands, while Jiyong chuckled beside you. “Definitely not planned,” you admitted.

Jiyong smirked. “It just felt right. And judging by the reaction…” he gestured toward the screaming audience, “I don’t think anyone minded.”

The interviewer shook her head with a teasing smile. “Oh, trust me, no one’s complaining.” Then she leaned forward, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “So… what happens now?”

You and Jiyong exchanged glances. It wasn’t like everything was suddenly fixed. There were still conversations to be had, wounds that time hadn’t fully healed. But for now, you knew one thing for sure.

Jiyong turned back to the interviewer, a soft smile playing at his lips. “We take it one step at a time. But this time…” he looked at you, his gaze full of quiet promises, “we take it together.”

The audience erupted into cheers, and just like that, the IT couple of YG was officially back.

You were his again, and he was also yours.