#if i Sound Awkward just know that i Feel Awkward

[moonstruckme]

hello! im not sure if you've done this before and if you have, i hope its ok to ask for more hehe but can i request rockstar poly marauders w a shy!reader and gets easily flustered when they show affection? thank u sm i really love all your poly marauders drabbles!!

Thank you for requesting angel <33

rockstar!marauders x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

The sound tech at this venue is nice. You liked her first for her pink hair and then for the easy way she motioned you over to help do the boys’ sound checks. You don’t think she needed the help; she only saw you standing off by herself and did a kind thing to make you feel less awkward. 

Now the boys are off in their dressing room, and you’re trailing contentedly behind her while she shows you how she sets up for shows. 

The bustle and ruckus of crews setting up before shows isn’t new to you. You’ve been with the boys since the beginning of their tour, but usually you stay out of the way, blending into walls or taking refuge in your boyfriends’ dressing room while they’re busy. You’ve never really gotten to know the actions the bustle and ruckus constitute. 

“Usually I help with lighting once I’m done with my own stuff,” the sound tech tells you. “It’s all programmed ahead of time, so really I’m just on standby in case something happens. Do the boys have a favorite color if I have to pick something?” 

You gnaw your lip, contemplative. “Sirius would probably like yellow, if you get the chance.” 

Her eyebrows shoot up. You know it’s not in the usual color palette of the boys’ shows. “Really?” 

“No.” You suck in a breath as a pair of arms wraps around your middle, releasing it when you realize it’s Sirius. “Not really. Minx, you know I hate yellow.” He smushes his face into your cheek. “Joke’s on you though, I look good in every color.” 

“Yellow certainly least,” James teases. He steps into your field of vision wearing his concert outfit. Jeans and a tight t-shirt just short enough to tease a sliver of abdomen. Of all the fans who will get to see him looking so handsome tonight, you’re glad you’re one of them. 

“Anyway,” he says, grinning, “we have a very important question for you both. No pressure.” 

“Well, some pressure,” Sirius says. 

You look at your sound tech friend. Like most crew, she’s largely unaffected by the rockstars currently sharing in casual repartee in front of her. Her eyes don’t appear to dip to James’ stomach or trace the myriad of tattoos you know are showing through Sirius’ sheer top. If anything, she looks only faintly amused by the way the band’s lead singer is mushing tiny, soft kisses into the skin by your ear. Your cheeks warm. 

“What’s the question?” you ask, dreading the reply. 

Sirius turns you in his arms, taking you by the shoulders and levelling you with a very serious look. “What is the hottest instrument for someone to play?” 

Your sound tech friend barks a laugh. “Bass,” she says. “No question.” 

James’ eyebrows fly up, his expression one of utter disbelief, but Sirius only says swiftly, “Wrong. You know what it is, don’t you, gorgeous?” 

Your shoulders gravitate upwards at the moniker. “You can’t ask me to pick between you.” 

“Don’t think of it as picking between us,” he says. “Just, which is the hottest? Objectively.” 

“I can’t be objective,” you plead. 

“Does anyone know what time it is? I can’t seem to find a clock in this whole place.” You turn your head as Remus emerges from their dressing room, blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. “Oh.” He blinks when he sees you, waving to dispel the smog. “Sorry, dovey. Where’ve you been?” 

“I’ve been here,” you say, voice softening. Sirius makes a quiet sound and hugs you again. 

“You’re cute,” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. Your face flames. 

“It’s quarter ‘til,” the sound tech offers helpfully. 

Remus turns to her with a smile he’ll never understand the power of. “Thank you.” 

“We’re conducting a poll on which instrument is the hottest,” James informs him. He jerks his thumb toward the sound tech. “She says bass.” 

Remus’ grin turns smug. “Quite right. What’s your pick, dove?” 

You’re mute and melting, hot enough by now that you wish you could evaporate into steam and float away through the vents. 

“She won’t say,” Sirius sighs dramatically, breath warm against your cheek. 

“Oh.” Remus seems to wisen to your plight. “It’s not really playing fair, is it? She can hardly be objective.” 

“Right,” you agree quickly. 

“But angel,” says James, bewildered, “guitar is classic.” 

“I’ll tell you what’s not fair,” Sirius argues. “For anyone to say anything other than the front man! We’re chosen for our hotness!” 

“Well, that’s not strictly true, is it?” 

“Yeah?” Sirius has that shit-eating grin, like he’s winding James up in anticipation of hauling him into a broom closet. You’re only glad it’s not directed at you. “You got something to say, Potter?”

“Sorry,” Remus apologizes to your sound tech friend on their behalf, touching a hand to Sirius’ back to guide you both towards the dressing room. James follows. 

“You’re good,” she laughs. “Nice to meet you, y/n.” 

“You too,” you say, cringing at the unintentional softness of your own voice. 

“Who was that?” Sirius asks as James closes the door to their dressing room behind you. “Have you made a new friend?” 

You groan, flopping down onto the posh-looking, uncomfortable couch and covering your face with your hands. “I was trying to.” 

“It looked like it was going well,” James says. “Maybe you can hang out with her again while we’re onstage.” 

“I can’t now,” you mumble between your palms. 

“Why not?” 

“Because,” says Remus, as he sits beside your head and begins smoothing your baby hairs with his fingers, “we’ve embarrassed her.” You let your hands slip down enough to see him, and he smiles at you. “I don’t think she’ll hold it against you, dovey. She seemed nice.” 

“You would think so.” Sirius plucks the cigarette from between Remus’ fingers, taking a drag before it can burn out. “She picked your instrument.” 

Remus shrugs, smug again. “That helps.” 

Sirius squints at him spitefully. He sits next to your knees where they’re flung over the arm of the couch. “Don’t let us spoil your new friend for you,” he says, sincerely. “She loves you already, I can tell. You’re perfect.” 

“You’re biased,” you counter, face heating again. 

Sirius grins like he can tell and reaches down to tug you upwards. He grasps you with a roughness for which he has no follow through, kissing you sweetly with his fingers bunched in your jacket.

“Wrong,” he says, lips moving against yours. “I know how to be objective.”

[tsukuhoe]

17. make me juno cw: smut, p in v sex

utahime’s voice rang out, sharp and clear. “and… cut! that’s a wrap for today, everyone. great work!” 

the film crew burst into scattered applause, and you stepped off the set, running your hand through your slightly dishevelled hair. 

“you did amazing, sweets,” gojo said as he passed. he offered you a tired but genuine smile. “hope i didn’t spook you when i picked you up earlier,” 

“oh heavens no, gojo! i didn’t mind it in the slightest! like seriously, throwing me over your shoulders? you’re really strong.” 

“yeah, ‘m the strongest!” you giggled in response. “so, sweets, would you like to get dinner together tonight? haven’t hung out with you since we watched scream together— kinda miss you.” he gave you a small pout and tucked a strand of your dishevelled hair behind your ear. 

“i’d love to gojo, but! i have dinner plans tonight… maybe next time?” dinner plans. he stiffened. who rejects the satoru gojo for dinner plans? no, the bigger question was who exactly do you have plans with?  “yeah..! that’s fine with me, sweets.” he smiled weakly then walked off. 

as you exited the lobby, your eyes scanned the small crowd milling around the entrance. then you saw him— nanami, waiting for you, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. you smiled, quickening her pace. “kento, hi! sorry, did you wait long?” 

nanami looked over and shot you a soft smile. “no, not at all. i just finished up my photoshoot.” 

you two started walking together to his car— a volvo s90. the sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. he opened the passenger door for you as you slid into the seat, the soft leather cool against your skin. you rolled her eyes playfully but couldn’t help the warmth spreading through your chest. “a gentleman, huh?” he chuckled at your comment. 

nanami closed the door with care and rounded the car to the driver’s side. moments later, he was in the seat beside you, adjusting the music to a mellow playlist as he started the car. the drive was smooth, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold as they passed. conversation flowed effortlessly between you two—small talk, laughter. 

twenty minutes later, he turned down a quiet road that led to a fancy townhouse neighbourhood. as he stepped out, you reached for the door handle, but before you could open it, he was there, pulling it open for you.

“still playing the gentleman, i see,” you said, stepping out.

“of course,” the blonde replied, offering his hand. you took it, feeling a pleasant flutter in your chest as your fingers brushed. 

“this is incredible, kento,” you said, twirling a forkful of spaghetti. he smiled, twirling his own fork. “i could send you the recipe if you’d like.” 

as you two ate, the conversation flowed as easily as the wine in your glasses. They talked about work, your mutual friends (shoko, utahime, gojo), and travel dreams. every so often, laughter would fill the room, blending with the crackle of the candle. 

“so, what did you want to discuss? you sounded pretty serious over text…” you asked, finishing up your plate of spaghetti. 

“well,” he said slowly, ​​running a hand through his hair, his laugh awkward. “it’s just— something’s been on my mind for a while. and i figured, you know, it’s something you should be aware of…” 

you tilted your head. “okay… now you’re scaring me. spit it out.”

he took a deep breath, his gaze meeting yours. “we attended high school together. at tokyo jujutsu high.” 

“oh! really? no wonder why your name sounded so familiar… you were friends with haibara, right? i remember seeing you a few times in the halls waiting for him after math?” 

he nodded. “yes. um… do you remember that party senior year? at mei mei’s place?” 

you blinked, thrown by the sudden shift in conversation. “uh… vaguely? why?”

nanami hesitated again, then decided to just rip off the band-aid. “we hooked up that night.” 

the words hung in the air like an unexpected gust of wind, making you blink again, harder this time.

“what?” you said, leaning back as if to process his statement better.

“we… had a one-night stand,” he said, his voice softer now. “you’d had a few drinks, i’d had a few drinks, and… yeah. it happened.” 

you stared at him, her mind racing. “no way… that was you?!”

“yes, it was,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “you didn’t bring it up the next day. i figured you didn’t want to talk about it so i just… didn’t say anything.”

“kento!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushing. “are you serious right now?”

“completely,” he said, his expression equal parts apologetic and nervous. “i’m not telling you this to make it weird or anything. i realized that when we met, you didn’t seem to know who i was. it felt wrong if you weren’t aware of who you had sex with…”  

you let out a long breath, your mind replaying snippets of that party. the memory was blurry, but there were flashes— nanami laughing with you in the kitchen, you two of them sitting too close in mei mei’s guest bedroom, a kiss that felt like it had been waiting to happen. 

“oh my god—” you finally said, covering your face with your hands. for a moment, you two sat in silence, the weight of the revelation settling in you. then, to his surprise, you started giggling. “kento, do you know how desperate i’ve been to find you?”

“pardon?” he asked, as confusion settled in him. 

you shook your head, still laughing. “i just… i can’t believe that i lost my v-card to the kento nanami! i’ve been thinking about that party ever since it happened!”

nanami smiled, relieved that she wasn’t angry, however concern showing on his face.  “you… you lost your virginity to me? i am so terribly sorry… is there something i could do to make it up to you?” 

“don’t be. if anything, it honestly best fuck of my life.” 

“fair enough.” he laughed, the tension finally breaking. 

​​you took another sip of wine, your eyes glinting with mischief. “but, if you really would like to make it up to me, i don’t mind recreating what we did that night.”

as you straddled nanami’s lap on the couch, the soft cushions enveloped them, making it feel like they were in their little world. his eyes locked onto yours, the desire in them making your heart skip a beat.

you settled into his lap, your legs wrapping around his hips as you began to move. his hands rose, gripping your hips as he guided you, his fingers digging into your skin. 

the couch creaked softly as you two moved, the sound mingling with your ragged breathing. you leaned forward, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "i want you."

"fuck, you feel incredible, darling," he groaned, his voice strained. his hands tightened on your hips as he pulled you down harder. you began to ride him faster, your hips moving in a circular motion as you chased the pleasure. your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper. "ah—! harder, please. ‘fuh me like you did back then."

nanami began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you matched his pace. the couch creaked with the frantic movements, the sound only adding to the erotic atmosphere. plap plap plap! 

"you feel so fucking good, love," nanami grunted, his eyes locked with yours. "'m not going to last long."

"i–i don't want you to," you panted, your face flushed with arousal. “wanna feel you c–cum inside— ah!— j’us like before."

his thrusts became more urgent— plap plap plap! his body on the brink of release. your cunt clenched around him, milking his cock as you neared your climax. your moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure. 

"shit– ‘m gonna fill you up, yeah?" nanami panted out, his body tensing as he emptied himself deep within you.

“ahh— you so so s’gooddd, kento!” you cried out, her nails scratching his back as you rode the waves of pleasure, your cunt pulsating around his pulsing thick cock. 

as your hearts slowed and your breathing returned to normal, you two remained entangled on the couch, your bodies glistening with sweat. nanami kissed your forehead, his hand stroking your hair.

"that was..." you began, searching for words. "just like i remembered…” 

“oh, darling, we’re just getting started.” he chuckled, his voice soft, picking you up and carrying you to his bedroom. 

album bonus tracks: — that was my first time writing smut, I AM SO SORRY IF IT WAS ASS — i love kento nanami — next chapter out next week, i won't be updating during the weekdays for a bit ⋮ MASTERLIST  ֹ⋮  PREVIOUS  ⋮  ֹNEXT  ⋮

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[dollyoons]

𝐊𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐙.

━━ 𝓌𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘯 𓈒𓈒𓈒 𝗆𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗓 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌, 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𖥔 𝖿! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝗆𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗅 ౨ৎ 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌2𝗅 ┊ 𝓌𝘢𝘳𝘯. 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁

𝒏𝐨𝐭𝐞. lol sorry for lowkey disappearing on this account...but hey!! enjoy this hehe ^^

MEGAN WAS EXTREMELY CLUMSY, and she knew that. Among her group of friends, she was always voted as the biggest klutz of the group. Not only that, but she was also painfully awkward around other people, even if she didn't mean to make the atmosphere so awkward. 

Though, she supposes that her clumsiness and awkward nature is what got her your number. Was it an ideal situation? No, because accidentally bumping into you—who was the epitome of an angel—and spilling her extremely hot latte on you isn't exactly…the perfect way to meet the love of your life.

Megan had replayed the situation more times than she'd like to admit. It had been a chaotic blur of apologies, napkins, and shock. She expected you to yell, storm off, or at the very least shoot an intimidating glare at her for ruining your shirt (and your day). But instead, you were oddly polite about the whole thing. 

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I swear!” She stammered, quickly grabbing napkins from the nearest table and handing them to you. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, even as you dabbed at your damp top with a resigned sigh. 

Megan looked at you eye to eye, stunned at your simple question. She felt her face growing hotter by the second, feeling like the very same drink that she had spilled on you. “Me? I just dumped an entire drink on you, and you're asking me if I’m okay?!” she blurted, not realizing how stupid she sounded.

But, you only laughed—a soft, warm sound that only made the situation more unbearable. Or maybe it had made it better. Megan wasn't sure.

“Accidents happen,” you said with a shrug. “At least it was a pretty girl who spilled her latte on me, and not some asshole of a guy who would probably blame me!” You giggled, also making Megan let out a small chuckle. 

“But, if it'll make you feel less guilty, maybe you could give me your number? You know, in case I need to send you a dry cleaning bill or something.” 

Megan had agreed far too quickly, rapidly nodding her head as she fumbled for her phone, nearly dropping it twice before successfully typing in her digits. And since then, she's alternated from cringing and crashing out at her own actions and nervously checking her phone for any notification from you. 

Until, it came.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: hey latte girl! it’s y/n :) or, i mean, the one you spilled your latte on the other week lol. hopefully i didn't catch you at a bad time or anything…are you by any chance free this friday though? 

Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at the message, her thumbs hovering hesitantly over her screen. So many thoughts running through her head at once—though she knows she shouldn't be overthinking it. 

The typing bubble popped up on her screen again, indicating that you were typing out another message. 

Ding! 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: sorry if this is a little…weird lmao. it's totally fine if you don't want to meet up on friday or if you have something better to do! 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: i don't wanna sound like a creep at all haha…

She giggled at her screen, feeling a little less nervous to shoot you a reply. Mindlessly, she started typing. 

hey! you aren't weird or a creep at all i promise lmao. friday works for me :) and i swear i wont bring any hot beverages to spill on you this time. 

Your reply came almost immediately. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: LMFAO yeah…i don't think my wardrobe could handle another stain considering how clumsy i am at home. see you at 7? 

Friday at 7 Megan replied, smiling a little too hard at her phone. 

But although she scored a meetup with you, Megan had spent the rest of her week in a haze of nervous anticipation. She couldn't count the amount of times she had called Lara and Daniela to come over and help her plan an outfit. 

She kept telling herself that it wasn't at all a date—but rather a simple hangout over the whole latte incident and that you were just being kind—but deep down, she hoped it was something more. 

Friday came faster than she expected, and Megan found herself standing outside the café you’d suggested, nervously smoothing her top. She was determined to make a better impression this time—no spilled drinks, no awkward stammering, and no clumsy mishaps.

At least, that was the plan. 

“Hey, Latte Girl,” you said with a smile as you approached, and Megan’s heart skipped a beat.

“Hi,” she managed, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. “And, uh, just for the record, I promise to keep all drinks at a safe distance tonight.”

You laughed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Megan didn’t feel awkward or out of place. But rather she felt comfortable and herself being around you. 

And maybe, her clumsiness wasn't a curse at all.

[jinnie-ret]

take a chance with me

lee know x reader

genre: mostly fluff, teeny angst

content warnings: one mention of a stroke (it's not an actual one just Minho malfunctioning lol)

word count: 1.8k

summary: lee know was too scared to express his feelings - lucky you were there to convince him his feelings were mutual

a/n: Umm... hi, lol. It's been a while since I've posted. Hopefully this is a nice surprise hehe

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Waking up early each morning and leaving your home at 06:30am would seem like a chore to most people. For you? It was incredibly rewarding to enter the workplace, opening up the front office for the day. Your friends had questioned you wondering how you did it, but helping your parents manage a cat rescue home soothed a part of your soul you didn't know you needed healing, particularly when dreaming of becoming an astronaut, a bus driver or a world famous actor as a child.

Though the biting winds sent a chill through your bones, the sun shone down upon you, rays reflecting off of the icy pavements on your route to work. The weather really couldn't make it's mind up recently. It reminded you of someone.

"Minho, hi! You're early!" you grinned, poking your head out of your scarf that you had wrapped securely around your neck. He seemed to brighten your day even further, as cheesy as it sounded. It was the way he bantered with you, back and forth, exciting you for what witty statement he'd come out with next.

"Visitor's Day, remember?" Minho simply commented, a cloud of air escaping his mouth as his teeth chattered, hands shoved deeply into his coat pockets.

"Oh, I nearly forgot!" your eyebrows furrowed in concern, your own hands digging around your pockets for the schedule of the day. It was a fortnightly occurrence in which you'd accept visitors looking around, hoping to re-home the cats that deserved a place to feel safe, loved and looked after. In fact, it was how you met Minho.

Two years ago was when he first set foot into the establishment, quiet, demure and unfazed. That was, until he was led to the small huts outside where the cats resided. Sneaking out some treats from his pocket, he fed a gorgeous boy he soon named Dori, feeling an instant attachment (the two of them). He tried to find his way back inside, ready to sign some adoption papers, when he stumbled into what he thought was merely a stack of boxes, not initially realising that you were behind them and trying to haul them inside on your own.

"I'm so sorry!" you had gasped apologetically, immediately grabbing a broom to the side and sweeping the rogue pieces of kibble that had escaped it's confines.

"Eh, don't worry," Minho shrugged, trying to play it cool although he couldn't stop himself from giving you a quick scan from head to toe in case he had hurt you, "at least they're not being starved, it's reassuring," he added on, laughing through his nose as he straightened up the boxes of cat food.

"You should see Gingy, he's a chonky boy," you jokes, brushing your hair out of your face and glancing up at him. All you could think was, and later you berated yourself for it, but the cat that got to go home with this one was certainly lucky.

"Oh? What if he heard that?" Minho teases, wondering if you'd feign the dramatics, or even get flustered at the idea.

"He knows," you shake your head and chuckle, making a smarter decision now in only grabbing one box.

"Oh, sorry did you need any-"

"Did you want some help with-"

Comically, you both fell silent simultaneously, feeling awkward that you had spoken over and cut off each other at the same time.

"I'll grab a box," Minho speaks up, moving to stand beside you.

"Oh thank you! That's a great help, truly. I was just going to ask if you wanted those adoption papers," you practically beamed.

"How could you tell?"

"You've got some blue fluff on you. That's from Lilo's hut."

"Actually, his name is Dori."

And when you found out Minho had two other cats and the reasoning behind the name 'Dori', you melted instantly. On the spot. Like, literally on the floor had it not been for the rational part of your brain telling you to stop falling for a man you had just met. Minho's sweet Dori completed his little cat family, the soft, gentle trio of boys.

To say you were Minho's biggest advocate when he admitted to wanting to help out and work alongside you at the Cat Rescue, would be completely right. You had brought him straight to your parents, informing them of how knowledgeable and tender he was in interacting with the cats and the rest was history.

Although, that wasn't where this story ended.

"Did you also forget the key?" Minho snapped you out of your reverie.

"Huh? What- no, here," you grasped the key and eagerly gave it to Minho, unsure if your fingers would have the strength to unlock the door, locking up from the inhumanely cold temperatures.

"Ah, she did remember," Minho smirked, soon having to catch his balance after you impulsively shoved his shoulder a bit too hard with your own.

"Unlock the door, pudding boy," you joked, Minho rolling his eyes in response. He could never let you have the upper hand for too long, however.

"I prefer jagi," he batted his eyelashes at you in an over the top way, making you groan and cover your eyes as a form of protection. You loved it really, you just weren't sure on if you should show it.

Minho had told you many times before that you wore your heart on your sleeve. Whether it was you recklessly running into the middle of the road to save a kitten from being hit, or spending your savings on allowing a family the chance to adopt a cat into their lives, you acted upon your love for others. On the other hand, he knew he was too scared to show you how he really felt. Banter, jokes, 'fake' flirting was the perfect cover up to distract him from his feelings, as well as the ones he hadn't yet recognised you shared.

Oddly, there was an awkwardness in the air between the two of you by the end of the day. Perhaps it was the elderly pair who commented on your selflessness as a couple, or seeing many young partners enter and adopt their first pet together. It triggered emotions within you both that had remained hidden for too long. You weren't just good friends, but you were made for each other. The love of cats; the gentleness you exuded and he let slip more often than he'd like to admit and the ease in which you both took in pushing the others' buttons.

Minho always thought you were bolder than him.

"Do you ever think we'll find love, Minho?" you yawned, sweeping up the remnants of dirt that had escaped the many pairs of shoes that entered the home today.

"We?" Minho paused, his grip on the mop slipping ever so slightly before he regained his composure, "I'm not really searching."

Of course he wasn't, not when-

"But is that because you’ve already found it? I don’t want to be bold but-" you nearly scolded yourself for daring to speak when your mind was all over the place.

"That would shock me if you weren’t," Minho snorted, easily falling back into his natural self.

"I'm being real, right now, Min," you squeezed your eyes shuts, back facing him and not wanting to face rejection.

"That's good, here's me thinking you were an illusion all along-"

"Just take a chance, Minho! With me. I-if it doesn’t work out, then we’ll still be friends, we’ll figure it out," you glanced over at him cautiously. Whilst your words were rushed and fumbly, your actions were timid.

Minho's brain malfunctioned. Is this what it felt like to have a stroke? Did you just confess your love for him? Wasn't it just another bit of banter?

"We're friends?" he teased, in that tone he always used. It now felt like a painful reminder, that you'd never truly get through to him. Really, he was testing the waters, and masking it as usual.

"I wish you would just be honest with me," you sighed quietly, your posture slightly hunched. Minho didn't like that. He liked when you stood tall, confident, proud.

"About what? I haven’t lied about anything," Minho busied himself with mopping the floor in order to distract himself from you. As long as he could see the shine in the wooden flooring panning across the entrance of the home, it was enough to put the aside the guilt he felt when the sparkle in your eye dimmed ever so slightly.

The days seemed to drag on endlessly after the unspoken rejection from the guy you had been crushing on for years, now. He hadn't opened up with you in a while - that's the shop we're talking about, not Minho and his thoughts and feelings. He hadn't ever really done that with you, minus a couple of short, rare occasions. Your parents had noticed the slight dullness that seemed to tie the two of you together, it taking a lot of convincing from them to you to lead another Visitor's Day with Minho. The only convincing factor for you in that moment had been when you drifted off into your own thoughts, fading away from the lecture you were receiving and instead finding comfort in the fact that it would be a busy day. There would be no time to think when you were working.

But when it came to the end of both of your shifts? Too much time to think, to dwell, to ponder.

"Well, umm, bye," you nodded politely at him and robotically waved with how stiff you felt in looking at him. Yet it seemed to give ample opportunity for Minho to grab your hand and pull you back towards him before you could rush away, just like he had regrettably done all those evenings ago.

"Oh, what's this about?" you questioned, praying that your hands didn't start getting clammy simply from being so close to him in this way.

"We're going on a date," Minho firmly stated, but his words didn't match his actions, his eyes shyly trailing off to the side and the tops of his ears turning red. How endearing.

"No."

"No?!"

"You can look me in the eyes and say it."

Oh, yes, he had definitely gotten lucky with you. Even though his heart pounded in worry that you would reject him too and he would have been too late, he was able to look you in the eyes and throw a one liner right back at you.

"Hmm, maybe I change my mind," Minho shrugged, feigning a carelessness and dropping his hand from yours.

"Hey! Come on!" you pulled him back towards you, chest to chest, an intense amount of love pouring from both of your souls as you gazed into each others' eyes.

"I'm taking you on a date," Minho affirmed, poking your nose to startle you before you realised he too had been on another planet.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @katzline @kiwihrt @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @lovingchan @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria @theo4eve @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse

[niniwritesxo]

nsfw alphabet - kang daeho (player 388)

(contains sexual content, mdni <3)

(these are all my opinion, if you disagree that’s totally fine, just dont interact w this fic xo)

——————————————————————————

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- dae-ho is such a sweetheart and i am convinced he thinks aftercare is the most important thing ever, he’ll do anything to make you comfortable afterwards. preparing you a nice warm bath, making you a sweet treat or just cuddle with you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- he loves his arms, especially when he flexes them so he can see his biceps/thriceps, his favorite part about you are your thighs and your ass (i just know he is a ass man)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- he has a breeding kink, he literally will thank you if you let him come inside. (hahaha going insane rn)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- he is a switch but loves when you dom him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

- i think he has good experience, his bodycount is probably below 5 though.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

- reverse cowgirl. (who said that)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- i feel like he would be kinda goofy, like cracking a little joke when something awkward happens.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

- dae-ho is definitely shaves for you, he knows you hate bushes lol.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- oh he is hopelessly in love, he loves sharing these intimate moments with you because he absolutely adores you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- mutual masturbation 100%

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

- praise, some degrading and in a way i feel like he would be such a good brat tamer (i am delusional)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

- either the kitchen or the shower.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- praise.

‘just like that dae-ho, you feel so good, fuck.’

say that and he’ll go on for hours

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- spitting and slapping.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- dae-ho is a MUNCH, i just know he loooves going down on you, he loves pleasing you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

- depends on how he is feeling, but i think it kinda switches between the two. (he’ll always make sure to ask you if it isn’t too rough)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- he doesn’t mind them but he would rather fuck you for hours straight.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- whenever you suggest something he’ll definitely try them out, he loves when you come with new ideas.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- i think he lasts LOOONG, he won’t stop until you at least came twice, doesn’t matter how long it has to take.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- maybe like a vibrator ON you, but that’s about it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

- i think he is such a tease, joking about you whining and going insane over his touch.

‘you want to cum that bad sweetheart?’ he says grinning.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- he isn’t that loud but he is definitely whiny and needy, so you’ll probably hear him whimpering and grunting.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- he loves it when you call him daddy (he’ll probably call you mommy…anyways!)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on underneath those clothes)

- dae-ho is not big but kinda buff, like he is not that skinny and actually has some meat on his body (yummy)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

- quick, he probably does something cute like make some tea for the both of you and falls asleep cuddling you.

thank you for reading lovely xo

[darkwing-ramblings]

Elrond and Haldir! They have to have fascinating thoughts on birdlife in middle earth, not to mention knowledge of plants! Plus Elrond is spoken of glowingly as a host and haldir I found charmingly earnest when reading the books! Ecology from an immortal perspective sounds grand. Also I'm always fascinated by Rivendell and Lothlorien.

Sam and Frodo sounded interesting too and possibly a tad more approachable but there's just less opportunity in life to talk to immortals so I must pass on their company, also I don't do partying like hobbits do which is a significant consideration.

Legolas and Gimli would have neat things to talk of I'm sure but I cannot match Gimli's poetry and dwarven secrecy with less known people is a thing etc. Not to mention Legolas is a bit hard to understand talking about trees to those around him in the books even if trees are great. So it doesn't sound unpleasant but also doesn't sound like how I'd want to spend my birthday.

Aragorn and Arwen I only briefly considered as I don't think I'd have much to actually say? Aragorn must have bird thoughts and Arwen must have some kind of craft etc I'd want to actually hear about in terms of what she's up to as the books limit our knowledge there... but those reasons are less compelling for selecting them as birthday company.

Eowyn and Eomer I just don't know enough about horses about to feel I could enjoy conversations with without feeling woefully underprepared (plus my memory in conversations just won't compare to theirs from a primarily oral culture so... I'm passing).

Merry and Pippin are great but I don't think I could match their energy when it comes birthday celebration potential (I am still not a hobbit or very outgoing).

I don't think I'd stand a chance getting a word in edgewise if Bilbo and Gandalf were talking and I'm not that keen on fireworks so not them even if they surely have the ability to just talk and keep going. They're also renowned for not giving straight answers and having a sense of humour- cryptic humour that's a little clever to unravel is not something I understand easily.

Galadriel makes intense eye contact and Celeborn appears rather disinterested in mortals on the whole so that's absolutely not worth it. Sounds like an uncomfortable time at least in part.

Boromir and Faramir tempted me because Boromir's notable lack of marriage pleases me as common ground and Faramir's own taking it slow on relationship levels is neat. Their company allowing for learning about Gondor as a place sounds fascinating! It'd be neat actually getting to see them in one place while alive and interacting too. But still sounds like a little bit of an awkward time given my own conversational tendencies.

Saruman and Grima sound like horrible company and I would, reasonably I think, fear for my wellbeing if I someone registered as more than a random nobody to them. Absolutely not, thank you, it would be a horrible birthday. There are points in the timeline they were probably (?) decent company but... just no, particularly the implied at once duo timings of either sabotaging rohan or, you know, scouring the shire...

in honour of turning 22 today i of course have to make it about lord of the rings

[foldingfittedsheets]

hi! i still haven't had sex and i was wondering just how kinky people really are outside of reading smut n stuff. i just want to know how realistic smut is to actual sex and if it can actually get as crazy without cameras or descriptions

It’s. It’s just not. No smut I’ve read or porn I’ve seen is gonna give you a realistic idea of what sex is like. There’s a bunch of awkward stuff at first. It’s often kinda goofy. Most people are not gonna whip out kinks first time with a new partner or without a discussion first.

There’s usually some stupid parts you laugh about, like undressing or finding a position. There’s parts where you are not feeling something and need to convey that to your partner. Theres silly sounds that make you laugh. None of that is sexy enough to make the cut for sex content that’s disseminated specifically to titillate people.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

KISSING YOU IN MY MIND

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem! Summary: after your date with Eddie, it gets a little awkward between you. Warnings: mention of drugs

Here is the actual part 2!

Series masterlist here!

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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you kicked a rock as you walked on the side of the road.

your backpack heavier than when you left home with it. it's probably just because you're tied from walking, though

you've been walking for what seems like forever when you hear a car drive slowly behind you.

you kicked the rock again and it tumbled off your path. not bothered to get it back, your turned around when you saw the corner stop beside you.

the window sketchily rolls down and your met with a certain smile that you haven't seen in a while.

"where ya going?" he asked, looking around

"where do you think?" you rolled your eyes.

"well i was gonna offer you a ride but after that comment" he shrugged, pressing on the gas and driving off slowly

you waited a second before catching up to him, making him smirk with his eyes still on the road

without looking over he leaned to the passenger door and opened it.

you got in and shut the door, sighing as you put your bag by your feet.

he started driving, turning down his music.

"so. how come you're walkin' to school?" he asked, looking over at you

"well I'm not walking now, am i?" you question, taking your waterbottle out and drinking a much-needed sip.

you swallowed the cold water and hummed

"I missed the bus" you answered, relaxing in the seat

You lean back against the seat, the cool air from the cracked window swirling in a lazy circle around you. The quiet hum of the engine fills the space, but neither of you seems to know what to say. You can feel the tension in the air thick and unspoken, and it’s like the weight of everything that’s not being said is pressing in on you both.

"so.. haven't seen you all week..ya'avoiding me again?" he asked in a half joking way- that much you could tell by the playful smile of his face, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

and maybe you had been avoiding him, maybe you had been taking a different route, bearly going to your locker. but you just hadn't realised it until now

"no..no. i've just been...busy" you breathed lightly, playing with your fingers that sat in your lap

"busy" he repeated lowly. not fully believing you.

the old rundown van is the exact same as it was a week prior. the same rubbish littering the dirty floor. you didn't expect anything different. but it gave you a sort of comfort. now that you were familiar with his space. it gave you the sense that you knew him- really knew him.

The road stretches out before you, the occasional car passing by, the sound of tires on asphalt blending into the low volume of the radio that’s still playing in the background. He glances over at you, just a quick peek, like he’s making sure you’re still there. But it’s more than that—his eyes linger for a fraction of a second longer than usual, before he shifts his gaze back to the road.

You stare straight ahead, pretending you didn’t notice, but your pulse quickens anyway. There’s something about the way he doesn’t look at you anymore, but you feel like he’s aware of every little thing you’re doing, like your presence is too loud, too obvious, too close.

"Think we'll make it to class on time?" The question slips out before you can stop it, and as soon as you say it, you wish you could take it back. It sounds too light, too casual, like you’re trying to cover up the space between you that’s suddenly too big to ignore.

He looks over at you again, that same quick glance, but this time he doesn’t hide the small smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. It's a fleeting thing, barely there, but it makes your heart skip a beat. You want to smile back, but it feels wrong, like you’d be playing a part in something neither of you is ready to admit.

"we'll make it," he says, and the calmness in his voice catches you off guard. Like he knows the answer before you even asked it, like he knows you’ll be fine, even though everything feels a little off right now.

You nod, but the motion feels robotic, too forced, like you're just going through the motions without really thinking about it. There’s something about the way his hands move on the wheel, tapping in time with the rhythm of the song playing, that makes you wonder if he’s just as lost in his thoughts as you are. Or maybe he’s trying to ignore the fact that this, whatever this is, is just as awkward as it feels.

The silence falls back over you both. It’s not comfortable, but it’s not unbearable either. It’s just... there, like a quiet third presence in the car. You try to focus on the road, the trees passing by, anything that will distract you from the nagging feeling that you’re both avoiding something you can’t quite put your finger on.

When you get closer to the school, the moment shifts again. The buildings are visible now, looming ahead like a reminder that all this—this weird, half-formed connection between you two—has to end soon. The thought of it feels too sudden, too soon, and you catch yourself wishing the ride would last just a little longer.

He slows the car, turning into the parking lot, and parks a little too far from the entrance. You both sit there for a second, neither of you moving. It’s like you’re both waiting for the other to do something. You can’t tell if you’re waiting for him to say something or if you’re just stalling because you don’t know how to break the strange quiet that’s settled between you.

"Thanks for the ride," you finally manage, your voice sounding a little too stiff, like you’re trying to make it sound casual even though the words feel foreign on your tongue.

You glance at him, but his face is already turned forward, hands still resting on the wheel.

"No problem," he says, his tone almost too easy, like he’s slipping back into that comfortable version of himself that doesn’t have to acknowledge whatever this is between you two.

He opens the door, stepping out quickly, and you follow suit, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

You both stand there for a second, a few feet apart, but neither of you makes the move to walk toward the school. The silence is loud now, unbearable even, and you feel the tension between you, thick and tight in the air. Your eyes wander for a moment, trying to find something to focus on, but your gaze inevitably falls back to him.

He’s standing there, shoulders slightly hunched, like he’s unsure of what to do next. It’s almost like you’re both waiting for the other to break, to do something that might make this feel less strange, less heavy.

He glances at you, a quick look, before he shifts his weight and starts walking toward the building. You follow, the distance between you growing, but it feels like it’s not enough. Like there’s something unspoken that’s just hanging there, waiting for either of you to pick it up.

You reach the school entrance, and for a moment, you both stop, standing just outside the door. You’re not sure why, but you look over at him one last time, and there it is- the same look, the same hesitation in his eyes, like he’s caught between two things he doesn’t know how to handle. And then, just as quickly, he turns and steps inside, leaving you standing there for just a moment longer.

You walk in after him, but the weight of the unspoken words lingers in the air, and you can’t shake the feeling that something’s changed. Something’s shifted between the two of you, and you’re not sure what it is yet, but you’re certain it’s something that’s not going away anytime soon.

And the question you’re left with as you step into the crowded halls is simple: What would it feel like if you weren’t walking away from each other at all?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Eddie couldn't get you out of his mind, ever since he dropped you off at your house after your 'date' and he realised he wanted to kiss you, you're all he can think about.

it's strange, he doesn't know what to think of it. he's never thought of any girl like that, the last time he thought about kissing a girl was when he was 14 watching Brooke Shields in the blue lagoon. but that ship sailed long ago.

but this was different, you were real, right in front of him, being nice.

he's felt weird all week. not knowing what to do. he's felt like you've made it obvious, laying it out on the table. you had so many options of teddies to choose from but you choose the one he has a tattoo of, that you've complimented?

but he was overthinking it, right? you had just thought it was the best choice? he would have chosen it before

he thought maybe things could be different now, that it would be better but after not seeing you for a week, and him so desperately wanting to, he thought maybe you didn't want the same

which makes sense. you told him all the date was, was pity, you felt bad for him.

that was it.

that's all it was, and all it will be.

but he doesn't like you, it was just the moment, he was tired, and you totally weren't looking at his lips when you left his van that night.

it didn't happen.

he needs to get a hold of himself

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"are you going to the party on saturday?" you voice echoed in his ears when you leaned against your locker, looking right at him as he rummaged through it, slyly making sure he had enough for the deal he's about to make in 10 or so minutes

he turned to you, a slight frown on covering his features.

he looked around to see a few people in the hallway and he opened his mouth to say something before stopping himself when he looked back at you

you didn't even try to make yourself look busy in your locker like you usually did. you weren't being quiet when talking to him like you usually did.

your eyebrows raised expectently before you spoke up again

"sorry.. didn't mean to catch you at a bad time, s'just wondering if it's a real party or a lame one"

were you asking him to go?

his puzzle look made you laugh softly

"are you coming to sell at the party?" you said again, making it more simple because clearly his brain wasn't processing, and to be honest, his eyes looked a little blown out and darker than usual, was he high?

he nodded quickly "uh i uh- i don't know yet, probably, need the money"

"good, i need something to make me relax, are you alright?" you asked, noticing his excessive blinking

"Yeah," he said plainly.

the word stretched too thin to feel convincing. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and you couldn’t tell if he was just distracted or trying to get you to drop it. Either way, the air between you felt heavier now, like something invisible was hanging in the space where words should’ve been.

You shifted your weight, leaning back against the cold metal of your locker, and studied him for a moment. His hands were still in his locker, rummaging through whatever he was keeping stashed in there, but they didn’t seem to be moving with any real purpose. It was more like he was just keeping them busy. Avoiding something.

"You sure?" you asked again, softer this time. There wasn’t any teasing in your voice now, just a quiet curiosity that you couldn’t quite keep out.

He froze for a second, his shoulders stiffening almost imperceptibly before he pulled his hands out of the locker and shut it with a sharp click.

His head tilted, and he gave you another one of those smiles that didn’t feel real- more like a placeholder than anything else.

"Yeah, I’m good," he said, like he was trying to convince himself just as much as you.

You nodded, but the furrow in your brow stayed. You weren’t sure why it bothered you so much, why he seemed so off, or why you felt the need to press the matter, but it did.

He didn’t meet your eyes this time, and something about that stung more than you cared to admit.

"Okay," you said, drawing the word out slowly, like you weren’t sure if you believed him or not.

"Just... don’t overdo it, alright?"

he frowned "Overdo what?" he asked, his tone light, almost playful, but there was an edge to it. Like he was trying to steer the conversation away from whatever it was that had you asking in the first place.

"the drugs" you wanted to say, but you didn't.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Whatever it is that’s got you all..." You waved a hand vaguely in his direction, searching for the right word but not finding one. "...weird."

weird? what a new word he's never been called. but how is he supposed to act 'normal' when all he can focus on is the curve of your lips when you're talking to him, wishing he could feel them, wishing they were on his in what is a beautiful kiss.

but, alas,

he has to be weird.

trust me, i won't overdo wanting to kiss you Eddie thought to himself

His lips twitched, and for a moment, you thought he might actually laugh, but then the look in his eyes shifted again- softened, almost, and he let out a small sigh instead.

"I am weird," he said, quieter this time, like he was trying to reassure you without drawing too much attention to it.

You wanted to believe him. You really did. But something about the way he was looking at you now, like he was holding back a dozen things he didn’t know how to say, made it hard to let it go.

Still, you nodded, pushing yourself off your locker. "Alright,"

You stepped back to give him a little more space and looked down at the polished floor again

"I'll see you at the party then...or not...bye" You trailed off, suddenly feeling self-conscious about how much you were saying.

His eyes flicked to yours, just for a second, and then he nodded. "Yeah," he said simply.

You lingered for a moment longer, waiting for something, anything, but when he didn’t say anything else, you turned and started walking down the hallway. The sound of your footsteps echoed faintly behind you, and you wondered if he was watching you leave.

You didn’t look back to find out. But as you turned the corner, you caught yourself wishing you had.

and still wondering why, in that weird little head of yours, you still pictured kissing those plush pink lips of his.

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this on'es a bit shortwe because i had no ideas on what to do, but i have the next few PERFECTLY PLANNED OUT

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

also thank you for all the support on the first two, hope you like this one!

Taglist:

@exploding-bonbon @xlostitx @pupwrites @carolineesnell @foreveranexpatsposts @itsmadamehydra @thedoubleexposurephotography @g3n3zshack @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @emxxblog @nubedeoctubreval @bimboshaggy @sheneedsrocknroll92

sorry it didn't let me tag a couple of you!

but reply if you want to be on the taglist!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[frightenedcricket]

Noah can't believe he is this nervous...

You are waking next to him and talking about your day. He has been waiting for this day for so long and is a mess. When did he decide it was a good idea to invite you for take-out and anime for your first date? What kind of first date is that?

When he opens the door and lets you in, you look around as if taking in the house. He thinks it's cute. You two set the food in the kitchen and you can't help but notice how nervous he is. But you don't say anything. Maybe it's just because it's your first date.

Are you thinking this is weird? Do you want to leave? Maybe you think he's only brought you here because he wants sex. Or perhaps you prefer something different? You wanted to go out to a fancy restaurant, right? Do you even like the food?

"Noah?"

"Mhm?"

"I asked where we are eating"

"Uh... I... Well. Do you want to set a nice table outside? I have candles?" He blushes instantly. This is ridiculous. Now he wants you to set your own table.

"Uh..." You frown and bite your nails. "I thought we were watching something"

"Yeah, we can do that"

It's strange because he sounded excited when he asked you on this date. Like, you were literally talking about the damn show you both like and he said why don't you come over one night so we can watch it together? We can order food. Like a date.

You try to not think much about it and do your best to not make him even more nervous.

You sit together on the floor to eat while watching the show, quietly commenting on what is happening on the screen.

But it's getting worse. He is stiff, and sometimes, it's like he doesn't want to be there. You are so done with it. You wanted to have a good time with a friend of yours you also happen to really like, not sit in awkward silence with him.

"Okay" You leave the sticks on the table and drink some water, then you turn to him and are so serious.

I'm done. He thinks. You are gonna leave and never agree to go out with him to fix this mess he's made.

"What's going on?" You say as you clasp your hands over your lap.

"Uh... He is looking for his broth-"

"No, what is going on with you, Noah?" You say and he swallows.

He is sweating. His face is burning and he feels so small.

"Nothing?"

"Then why the fuck do I feel I'm having dinner with a tree instead of you, huh?"

His eyes are big and he has to hide his hands because he is trembling.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here, you probably wanted something else. I know this is so shitty for a first date. This sounded like the best plan because we both like this and I'm pretty comfortable in my house, but I didn't think of what you wanted for a first date. If I haven't fucked up completely maybe I can make it up to you and take you to some place you like. It's so awkward... I'm really sorry, I didn't want you to think I wanted to bring you here to have sex or something I just..."

He stops abruptly because you are laughing, like genuinely laughing. He is so confused. Has he fucked up this bad? Really? Do you have to laugh on his face?

"Noah... Oh lord" You try to breathe as you fan his face.

"Okay, this wasn't necessary. You could have just declined. This is so rude"

Now it's your time to stop. You cover your mouth.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, it wasn't my intention... I... Sorry" You grab his hands. "I'm sorry. I was laughing because... I don't want a fancy restaurant, Noah. I was so excited for this. Like... You are the only person I know who enjoys this show" You brush his knuckles with your thumbs and take a deep breath. "I'm sorry for laughing, I thought it was funny because I was really expecting this date"

Noah blinks a couple of times before frowning. "Really? Don't you prefer something else?"

"Noah, I like you a lot. I don't mind where we go... But I really like this because it's just us and something we have in common"

To say he is relieved is already something.

"I thought you were bored or something... Shit..." He finally smiles. "So you don't think this is a shitty date"

"I think this is an awesome date, Noah"

He laughs and looks at you with dreamy eyes and blushy cheeks. He is the cutest, for fucks sake.

"Plus, I wouldn't be so opposed to the sex thing"

"Oh, c'mon... Let me finish my dinner first or something"

You laugh loudly and pull him closer, taking him by surprise with a sweet kiss.

Thank you to @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard for the inspo!!

[basuralindo]

Thanks for the @!

uhhhh

For a guy who can't shut up in the tags, I actually really suck at coming up with things to say about myself when asked (I've started off on the wrong foot at basically every job by turning into a deer in headlights when new coworkers try to get to know me with questions like this lmao)

I grew up in the mountains (singular, it was a volcano in the middle of the ocean, but similar vibe) raising chickens, and they're still one of my favorite animals of all time

Speaking of favorite animals. I was always obsessed with snakes, but they were prohibited in the state so I could never own or see any in the wild, so I got obsessed with eels as the next best thing. Once on a vacation when I was little, I almost got bit by one of the deadliest sea snakes on earth because I thought it was a zebra moray and swam right up to check it out (don't swim up to morays either btw. that would have been a bad idea even if I was correct)

Just about everyone who taught me to speak had a different accent and native language and the area I lived was a major hub for both immigrants and tourists, which resulted in me always code switching and never developing a consistent accent of my own. To this day my base accent is made up of bits and pieces of shit I lived around that leans heavily towards whatever the last person I spoke to sounded like. It's awkward af and always makes me worry that I sound like I'm mocking people

I'm 31 and met my partner when I was 14, meaning I've known him longer than I knew myself alone, and I still get really mushy about that. We talk to each other in so many layers of references and inside jokes built up over the years that it may as well be a different dialect

Tagging @quartz-candles @sluttyonceler @katabaesis @firenren @deezneezz-2 @ineffable-writer @unpredictable-probabilities @masterofrecords @weilaverdui (again if anyone feels like doing this go for it, I want to know about my mutuals but always forget names)

IF YOUR SEEING THIS, SAY 5 THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF AND TAG 5 PEOPLE

I was an sonic fan.

I try my best to stick to the canon.

I love pop & rock.

I know a lot about anime(like jujutsu kaisen) so some people misunderstand me that I like anime.

I suck at gaming

@aurora-starlight-silly @miracle-negative @r31ncl0udcry @zoepreppyutfan @fruitcake5

[cognitiveoverload]

The joke (Spencer Reid x reader)

summary: Spencer's joke doesn't land with the class, but you find him cute.

tags: fem!reader

note: Takes place at the beginning of 4x08.

1/?

The light bulb joke didn’t land. At all. It wasn’t bad. Well, not that bad, but it wasn’t great either. 

The silence in the room is deafening, and it’s so ridiculous that you can’t bite back the quiet chuckle that’s been threatening to escape your lips ever since that agent fell silent. His eyes shine with hope when his eyes find you, accompanied by a sweet smile, and while it breaks your heart to say it, you can feel the weird looks the other students are sending your way. 

“Sorry, it was just so… quiet,” you say with a hand held up.

Disappointment. That’s what you see in the agent’s eyes after he heard you say that. It breaks your heart because he looks like a genuinely nice guy, but you have a reputation to uphold. It took so much hard work to be as social as possible, attending parties and hanging out with people, all while keeping your grades up, being among the top students. You can’t let finding a cute joke come in the way. 

You don’t pay much attention to the conversation after you hear one of the idiots ask them if they have shot anyone. That must be the most original, most important question you’ve ever heard. Congratulations, moron. Instead, you pull out a book and begin to flip through the pages, but you can feel it. You can feel a pair of eyes finding you over and over again, and when you finally look up and around to see who it is, your gaze falls on the agent, whose hazel eyes are fixed on you. Just when you flash a barely visible smile at him, though, he looks away. 

After their time here comes to an end, you quickly throw everything into your bag, then head down to meet them, because you know you have to apologize. You stop a few feet away, fidgeting with your fingers as you wait for Professor Harris to stop talking. There’s time, you’re not in a hurry to get out. The agent looks at you, his eyes mirroring a moderate amount of excitement, and you can feel the heat rise to your cheek to make you blush. Stupid biology. 

Harris notices this silent exchange, and decides to follow his eyes to see who has caught his attention. When he sees it’s you, he starts grinning and steps back with an arm extended to pull you a little closer to their little circle. “Let me introduce you to one of our brightest students. She’s studying psychology, and she wrote an amazing article that was published in a journal not long ago,” he says. 

Clearing your throat, you extend your hand to them and introduce yourself, and in return, they do the same. Dr. Spencer Reid. Now you definitely learned his name, you won’t be able to forget it, because the moment your hands touched, you could feel that unmistakable spark. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to apologize for that laugh. It wasn’t such a bad joke, it was just really… awkward here,” you say, unintentionally biting on your lower lip. 

Reid shakes his head as he reluctantly, but lets go of your hand. “It’s okay. Maybe these jokes should stay between philosophers,” he tells you with a humorless laugh. 

Next to you, Harris turns to the other agent and asks him if they could exchange a few words, but seeing the meaningful looks they exchange, it’s quite obvious they only want to give the two of you some space. You adjust the strap of your bag as you wait for him to speak up, because you have nothing on your mind. It’s not that you don’t want to talk, you just don’t really know what to say. He’s intelligent, that one’s clear, what could he possibly want from you? He probably wants someone who can challenge him, someone he can consider an equal, someone older than you, someone who’s–

“So, um… your article was published at your age?” he wonders, sounding a little surprised. Maybe he’s right, you're only completing your bachelor’s studies, not everyone takes the time to do these things. When you nod, he goes on. “I’d like to read it. Can you… send it to me?” 

“Sure, if you give me your email address, I’ll send it tonight,” you promise with a smile, still a little taken aback by the fact he’s interested. He didn’t even ask you what it’s about, but he wants to read it regardless of the topic. 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card, which he immediately offers to you. “Thank you, I promise I won’t ghost you,” you assure him again.

Though there’s clearly something else he wants to say, you both turn toward the door when his colleague is calling out for him. You feel a pang of disappointment that your conversation ends before it truly begins, but there’s nothing to do about it. “I’m sorry, I have to go. It was nice to meet you,” he tells you, then awkwardly waves before walking away. 

He’s nice. And charming in his nerdy way. You can’t help but imagine what it would be like if you got to spend a little more time with him, maybe managing to coax him into joining you on your social adventures. Would he learn to enjoy it? Or is he the type who’d rather spend his time at home, reading books? Maybe watching movies or binge-watching TV shows? And would he talk about his work, tell you about some interesting cases? 

God, you’re pathetic. You barely know the guy, yet here you are, already thinking several steps ahead.

[bestalbertcamuslover]

Surgery

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing: Sebastian Vettel x Ex! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none✯

 ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

Seb and her didn’t part on the best terms. The breakup had been tense, marked by unspoken words and lingering hurt. She’d moved forward, focusing on her career, he did the same, but some connections never fully disappeared.

Recently, she’d undergone a surgical procedure, something personal she’d chosen to keep private. Only her family and closest friends were in the loop. Yet, somehow, Sebastian had found out through a mutual friend.

The operation had gone smoothly, and now she was resting in her recovery room. Her family and a few friends had been with her all afternoon, their quiet conversation filling the space. She was sitting up, sipping some water and trying to distract herself with their chatter, when there was a knock on the door.

Her best friend opened it, and there he was—Sebastian. He stepped inside with a small bouquet of various flowers in hand, his expression steady but thoughtful.

“Hey,” he said gently, his eyes scanning her for signs of discomfort.

Her family exchanged a few glances before politely excusing themselves to give them some privacy. Seb approached slowly, setting the flowers on the table beside her.

“You didn’t have to come,” she said, though her voice carried no resentment.

“I know,” he replied, sitting in the chair beside her. “I just… I wanted to see for myself that you’re okay.”

She studied him, his calm demeanor making the moment feel less like an intrusion and more like a quiet reunion. “How did you even know?”

“Emma told me,” he admitted, leaning forward slightly. “I wasn’t going to bother you, but… I figured it couldn’t hurt to stop by.”

She nodded, not knowing what to say. He was the last person she would expect, yet for some reason she felt pleased about him caring about her enough to come. 

“So… How are you feeling?” he asked, breaking the almost uncomfortable silence that had been settling.

“I’m feeling fine,” she admitted, as she did not feel any extraordinary discomfort after the surgery, “you guys act as if I’ve been through war,” she joked, hoping to make the moment less awkward.

His lips tugged into a half-smile at her attempt to lighten the mood. It was a classic move of hers, this bantering, and it was both endearing and annoying at the same time. “Oh, you know we worry about you,” he teased back.

Sebastian glanced at the flowers he'd brought, then back at her. His voice lowered a bit. “Seriously, though, are you in pain?”

“I’m fine, Seb,” she repeated with almost playful exasperation.

Sebastian nodded, his expression warm but attentive. “Okay, okay,” he conceded, smiling. Then, as if on instinct, his hand reached out, brushing hers gently.

It was such a natural gesture—Seb had always been tactile, a comforting presence for anyone who needed it. But this felt different, even if he hadn’t meant it to be. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, and she froze for a moment, the familiarity of his touch stirring something in her chest she wasn’t ready to unpack.

Seb adjusted his position in the chair, as if trying to find the right words. “It’s a nice hospital,” he remarked, glancing around the room. “Bright, not too clinical. It suits you.”

She raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Are you seriously complimenting the decor right now?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Maybe. Just trying to make conversation.”

His thumb lingered against her skin for a second too long, and she swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was despite the chair between them. “Seb, you didn’t have to do this,” she said, her voice quieter now. “You’ve got your own life—things to focus on.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening further. “I’m not here because I have to be. I’m here because I care,” he said simply. “That doesn’t just disappear.”

Her heart gave a painful twist at his words. His words always had that effect, no matter how much time had passed or what they were or weren’t. “You always did have a way with words,” she murmured, trying to deflect the emotions creeping in.

He smiled faintly, his hand still resting over hers. “And you always did have a way of avoiding them,” he replied.

A quiet laugh escaped her lips, and for a moment, the tension eased. “Touché,” she said, her voice lighter.

They sat there for a beat, the sound of distant footsteps in the hallway filling the silence. It wasn’t the awkward tension of earlier—it felt… familiar. Comfortable in a way she hadn’t expected.

Seb’s fingers gave hers a gentle squeeze before he leaned back slightly, as if he could sense she needed space. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, his voice steady but soft.

“Thanks,” she said, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “And thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”

“I figured you deserved something nice,” he said, leaning back in his chair but still watching her closely. “Even if you think we’re all overreacting.”

“Maybe just a little,” she admitted, a teasing spark in her eyes.

“Hey, give me a break,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I had to make sure you weren’t scaring the nurses with your stubbornness.”

She rolled her eyes but laughed, the sound soft but genuine. “Still as dramatic as ever, I see.”

“Only for you,” he quipped, and for a moment, the weight of the past seemed lighter between them.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: English is not my first language, and I hope you liked it <3

[peterm4rker]

from the rooftops || m.l

twenty four. mark fucking lee

🕸🕷✮⋆˙ wc. 0.7k w. curse words ! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

sometimes in life things just click.

like when you hear a part of a gossip you were missing and everything suddenly makes sense, or when you remember the name of something hours after thinking about it.

or when you hear spiderman answer your question in a way that no one but mark lee would.

it was november 13th, the day was beautiful with clear and sunny skies. kids ran around the park and laughter filled the air. everything was absolutely perfect.

you had everything ready to take action on your little detective plan as you both sat on your usual spot on the ground of the park, where was telling you one of his many stories for the new article. you noticed the stiffness of his body almost immediately after he got there, when he greeted you with the most awkward handshake you had ever been a part of. he completely lacked his usual relaxed and fun demeanor, and it was making your job harder and easier at the same time. maybe he was trying hard to hide who he was now that he knew he had fumbled a couple days prior, or maybe he had just woken up in a bad mood. whatever it was, it would end up playing an enormous part on the pieces of the puzzle moving slowly into place, preparing a picture of a face you had grown to know a little too well. 

you did everything you could to make him feel more comfortable so he could let himself go, just so he could give you something, anything that would help you finally figure out what you so desperately wanted to know.

it wasn’t that you wanted to know for any evil reasons like you were sure that many did, but you needed to know if the boy you were madly in love with was putting his life in danger every single day.

you asked questions and said funny comments, looking to elicit some type of reaction from him. slowly, he let his walls down as he always ended up doing around you. his hands began to move around as he articulated his words, his voice got more excited and giggles started to allow themselves to escape out of his lips.

and then it happened, the moment where everything clicked.

“and after that i went to go get ice cream to the parlor close to the river” he commented as he ended his story, letting out a small chuckle.

“ouh, fire?” you asked, without even realizing that you had just set yourself up for success.

“flames” he answered casually, almost out of instinct, causing your eyes to widen slightly.

no.

fucking.

way.

“i’m glad, i’ll have to go get some there. i’ve never had it.” you said quickly, trying your hardest to hide the emotion in your voice.

“it’s so good, also pretty cheap, but they give it to me for free because i once stopped a guy from setting the store on fire” he commented with a small laugh, and you felt utterly stupid.

how had you not realized after all this time? how could you not hear the voice that clouded your dreams behind that (now very obvious) voice changer? how had you not noticed that his laugh was way too beautiful to belong to anyone but mark? how had you not connected the dots earlier? every time he said one of the silly things he could come up with, every time he made the hand gestures you had seen him do so many times without the mask on. every time that he had made your heart flutter like only one person had ever done.

mark fucking lee.

“you okay there, yn?” the too robotic sounding voice asked as the man in front of you, mark, tilted his head in curiosity.

“yeah, sorry, i zoned out” you chuckled “but go on, i’m paying attention now” you urged. you had never thanked your mother so much for making you take those drama classes when you were younger more than in that moment.

“don’t worry, i was just saying that the chocolate ice cream there is bomb…” he continued talking, immersed in his own world to notice the way your lips quivered upwards as you watched him.

click.

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© peterm4rker, 2024

[starzoutlet]

Beyond The Game

6. Heart Broken Girls Bond

Series masterlist

Later

You nervously entered the café, the comforting scent of roasted coffee beans doing little to calm the butterflies in your stomach. Your heart raced as your eyes scanned the room. There she was, sitting by the window with sunlight streaming onto her flawless face. Mona Megistus. She turned her head, catching your gaze.

“Hey! It’s—nice to see you again!” you stammered, sliding into the seat across from her.

“It’s nice to see you again too!” she replied, her voice bright and warm, like the first rays of morning light. “Since we never got to introduce ourselves properly, I’m Mona Megistus!” Her smile lit up the room, radiant as the brightest star.

You couldn’t help but admire her for a moment. She was pretty—very pretty, in that effortlessly captivating way.

“I’m Y/N,” you finally managed, returning her smile.

The waitress arrived with your drinks, setting them down on the small table. You wrapped your hands around the warm coffee cup, taking a cautious sip. Around you, the café hummed with soft conversations, the occasional clink of cups creating an oddly satisfying symphony. It was comforting—almost enough to make you forget how nervous you were.

Mona broke the silence. “So, I’m guessing you dated Kuni too, huh?” she asked casually, sipping her latte as if she hadn’t just dropped a conversational bomb.

You nearly choked on your coffee, sputtering. “Huh? No, no, we never dated!”

She raised an elegant eyebrow. “Really? Then why were you two acting so... weird at the meet-up?”

You sighed, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Well...” You hesitated, but Mona’s expectant gaze prompted you to continue. “I had started competing around the same time Scara had made a name for himself. At first, he was my biggest inspiration, but then... he became my biggest rival. Somewhere along the way, I developed this stupid crush on him.”

Her lips quirked upward in an amused smile, but she stayed silent, letting you continue.

“I thought the rivalry was just for the media, you know? But then I overheard him talking about me once. He said I was clingy, annoying, and pathetic. I just... I don’t know what to do anymore.” The words spilled out of you in a rush, as if finally sharing them might lighten the weight in your chest.

Mona listened intently, nodding along. When you finished, you dropped your head onto the table, groaning in frustration.

To your surprise, she giggled.

You lifted your head to glare at her. “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “It’s just—you sound exactly like me when Kuni and I broke up.”

You froze, the pieces clicking into place. Mona Megistus, rumored to be Scaramouche’s ex-girlfriend. And here you were, pouring your heart out about your crush on her ex.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—” you began, mortified.

But she waved you off, smiling. “It’s fine. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. Kunikuzushi isn’t exactly... easy to understand. I thought maybe we could bond over that.” Her gaze softened as she looked out the window.

“Well,” you said, attempting an awkward smile, “we can still be two heartbroken girls. And friends.”

Mona’s smile returned, brighter this time. “Look, Y/N, Scaramouche doesn’t always mean what he says. He’s... complicated. But if you want my advice, make him want you, not the other way around.” She shrugged, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “But of course we can be friends!”

Before you could respond, she stood and paid for both your drinks. Then, grabbing your hand, she pulled you toward the door.

“Where are we going?” you asked, struggling to keep up with her pace.

She stopped abruptly outside and pointed ahead. The annual fair was in full swing, the setting sun casting a warm golden glow over the colorful booths and rides.

“We’re going to have some fun,” she declared, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

You barely had time to process before she was dragging you into the fairgrounds.

The next few hours passed in a blur of laughter and excitement. Mona was a whirlwind of energy, pulling you from booth to booth. You shared cotton candy, the sugary treat melting on your tongue, and challenged each other to win plush toys at the carnival games. Mona won a small, stuffed star, which she immediately handed to you with a triumphant grin.

The rides came next. The two of you screamed your lungs out on the rollercoaster, clung to each other during the haunted house, and laughed until your stomachs hurt on the spinning teacups.

Finally, as the night deepened, you both made your way to the ferris wheel. The line wasn’t long, and soon you were seated in one of the gondolas, slowly ascending above the fairgrounds.

The view was breathtaking. The fair’s bright lights twinkled like a sea of stars below you, and the distant city skyline shimmered against the dark sky.

“Wow,” Mona breathed, leaning forward to take it all in.

“Yeah,” you agreed, unable to take your eyes off the scene.

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the gentle sway of the ferris wheel lulling you into a sense of peace. Then Mona turned to you, her expression uncharacteristically serious.

“Thanks for coming out with me tonight,” she said softly. “I think... I really needed this.”

You smiled at her, warmth spreading through your chest. “Me too. Thanks for taking me out, Mona.”

The ride ended too soon, and the two of you walked out of the fairgrounds together. The cool night air was refreshing after the excitement of the evening.

“Let me know when you’re free again, okay?” Mona said, waving as she started walking in the opposite direction.

“Will do! Bye!” you called after her.

As you made your way home, you pulled out your phone and opened Instagram. Scrolling through the pictures you’d taken throughout the night, you smiled and posted a few of the best ones with a caption: Best night in a while. Thanks, Mona!

For the first time in what felt like forever, the ache in your chest felt just a little lighter.

Scaramouche leaned back in his chair, the glow of his phone casting long shadows in the dim room. His thumb scrolled absentmindedly through Instagram until something caught his attention.

Your latest post.

He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he opened it. There you were, smiling so brightly it almost hurt to look at. The caption read: Had so much fun today at the fair with @Megistus.Mona

His jaw tightened as his thumb swiped through the photos. The first one showed you and Mona laughing over some cotton candy, her arm casually draped over your shoulder. The next was a shot of the two of you mid-scream on a rollercoaster, faces flushed with pure exhilaration. And the last—a picture of you on the ferris wheel, gazing out at the city lights with a soft, serene smile.

That smile made something twist in his chest, and he hated it.

Scaramouche tossed his phone onto the desk with more force than necessary, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Of all people,” he muttered under his breath. “Why Mona?”

It wasn’t a surprise, not really. Mona had a knack for inserting herself into situations where she didn’t belong, always making herself the center of attention. But this? This felt deliberate.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room as his thoughts spiraled. He couldn’t ignore the fact that Mona must have known how he felt about you. It wasn’t like he’d ever said it out loud—he’d never be that stupid—but he wasn’t blind to how obvious he must have been.

The way he always watched you out of the corner of his eye, even when he pretended not to care. The way his words always came out sharper around you, as if he could push you away before you got too close. It was his defense, his armor.

He’d never let himself be soft around you. He couldn’t. Being kind, letting his guard down—it would only leave him vulnerable. And vulnerability was something Scaramouche refused to allow, not even for you.

Especially not for you.

He scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. You probably thought he hated you. Maybe you even hated him back, and why wouldn’t you? He went out of his way to be rude, to keep you at arm’s length. It was easier that way, safer.

But now, seeing you with Mona—the warmth in your smile, the way you seemed so at ease—it struck a nerve he didn’t even know he had.

You looked happy without him. Too happy.

Scaramouche stopped pacing, his gaze flicking back to the phone on his desk. The screen had gone dark, but the images from your post were burned into his mind. Mona’s arm around you, the two of you laughing together.

It was infuriating.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as jealousy and frustration swirled in his chest. He hated Mona for doing this, for knowing exactly how to get under his skin. But more than that, he hated himself—for caring so much.

“Pathetic,” he muttered, the word cutting and self-directed.

But even as he said it, the familiar spark of defiance flared within him. Scaramouche wasn’t the type to sit back and let things play out. If Mona thought she could swoop in and take what wasn’t hers, she had another thing coming.

He picked up his phone again, his thumb hovering over your post. He stared at your smile, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“You think you’re so clever, Mona,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and venomous. “But two can play this game.”

And as for you? He wasn’t about to let you forget him. No matter how much you smiled at Mona, no matter how happy you seemed without him, Scaramouche wasn’t going to let himself fade into the background.

He smirked to himself, cold and calculating. If he couldn’t let himself be kind to you, he’d make sure you couldn’t ignore him, either.

Letting out a low chuckle, he leaned back in his chair, the spark of a plan already forming in his mind. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to do, but one thing was certain: He wouldn’t let Mona hurt you like she hurt him.

how did we feel about todays chapter??? 😝 Don’t forget to follow and send in ask i would love to chat with you guys 🫶🏽🫶🏽

no head cannons today sorry!!

Series masterlist

Taglist 📩

@sketcheeee | @scaraenthusiast1 | @shutingstar | @automaticpatroltragedy | @bananasquash | @raineyun | @yuki-carmin | @vi0let-writes | @sushitushi | @shynsgore | @feiherp | @ale-t13 | @shyentsmissingink | @karma-gisa | @skyoverkill1

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ “LISTEN.. I LIKE YOU, MORE THAN A FRIEND”

୨ৎ pairing: bestfriend!gdragon x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! and some slight angst

୨ৎ from myeong: hi hi!! thank you for requesting! I’m so happy to see that there is still so many of us that love jiyong ): he’s such a sunshine! I hope you enjoy this x

a gentle sigh left your lips after checking your phone for around the 100th time now—or maybe you were just being a bit overly dramatic. lifting yourself off the large couch that sat against the wall in jiyong’s studio and heading towards the door when it suddenly opened and here came the man himself that you’d been waiting for. he gave you an apologetic look and shut the door behind him raising his arms to pull you into a tight hug as if you two didn’t just see each other an hour before. this is how it was being best friends with the gdragon himself, as you two were hanging out being the first to take a listen to the album he was working so hard on, he got a call and stepped out for a moment which ended up being much longer than just a moment like he said but you understand more than anyone else. “I’m sorry that took longer than expected princess, got pulled into a short meeting and uh.. well, I’ll be able to perform soon! it’s been so long since I’ve been on stage I’m filled with anxiety about it.” you tilted your head to the side and reached to place a hand on his back, gently rubbing the area for a moment. although jiyong always spoke up about his anxiety especially to you there was a part of you that knew everything would be just fine. he was a man filled with many doubts but he never understood that he was also a man filled with talent and was loved by so many because of it. the hand that was placed on his back slowly reached towards his shoulder and there went your arm wrapping around him and pulling him into you, “hey! let’s not be so negative, okay? anxiety will not ruin a moment like performing after so long this is amazing news! I’ll be there to cheer you on. there’s nothing to worry about.” watching his cheeks turn a light pink color only made you giggle. it was adorable how shy he was around you despite being best friends for a few years now. pinching his cheek in a playful manner he softly pushed you away while covering his face with his free hand, not wanting you to see him anymore.

“what are you so shy for!” you asked before pulling away from him and finding your spot back on the couch. jiyong didn’t say a word to you which only made you raise an eyebrow in confusion but not thinking too much about it. the both of you always had moments like this and it would become super quiet or awkward even, your shyness and his got in the way. “can I listen to more songs jiyong?” you asked finally breaking the silence between the both of you and he quietly nodded. the last song he put on for you to hear was.. something you’ve never heard before. it wasn’t anything that jiyong would make and it confused you. the lyrics had been so intimate and romantic that it honestly sounded like he had someone he was really into or already dating the person. “was this song meant for someone?” you asked without looking at him suddenly feeling shyness come over you especially after hearing such a intimate song. another moment of silence filled the studio and just as your lips parted to speak he beat you to it, “yes. someone very special to me. she’s one of my closest friends.” you’d be lying if you said that didn’t make your heart drop. why? you weren’t sure.. or maybe you were and it was that you’ve had a crush on him for such a long time now but refused to do anything about it. “t-that’s very sweet of you. maybe one day I can meet her.” fool. you never stumble over your words unless you’re extremely embarrassed or shy and you weren’t sure what you felt, it was a mixture of both of those emotions. “you know her quite well.” the sound of his deep voice startled you because it was so close and of course shook you from your thoughts. slowly looking up you were face to face with jiyong. the embarrassed look on his face was enough to tell you he didn’t want to be doing this so why? why did he continue to torture himself because of some crush he had on someone you supposedly knew? because you were best friends? but you had thought that’s how best friends were supposed to be, share everything with each other. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

another long pause of silence filled the room before you spoke up again, “you don’t seem like you’re wanting to talk about it so we don’t have too. I just hope she’ll be a good match for you. that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.” and with that a long sigh left his own lips as he slowly pulled his chair away from you. “you just don’t get it do you? or are you acting that way on purpose?” you didn’t look up at him but stared at your white crocs and all the cute charms jiyong got you for them. “jiyong—” he stopped you by leaving the room which only caused you to be more confused about the entire situation and just a few minutes later he returned with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. jiyong wiped his hands against his pants and a drop of sweat ran down the side of his face, a dark reddish color from his hair dye. was this some kind of joke? was he seriously going to use you to practice what he was going to do with the girl he liked? it made you feel so embarrassed! why would he do such a thing knowing how shy of a person you were, this wasn’t a good idea. “listen.. I like you, more than a friend.” jaw dropping to the floor after hearing such words—words that you’d never be able to hear for yourself. “jiyong.. you know I’m not someone you should be practicing this kind of thing with. I’m super awkward and shy! I don’t even know how to react to this.” he looked at you in disbelief thinking you were joking at first but seeing the look on your face he knew you were being serious, this wasn’t going how he planned for it to be. “y/n, princess—no, my princess. I like you. y..you’re the one that I like more than a friend. fuck this is so embarrassing for me! why did I do this.” the flowers that he was once holding were dropped against his keyboard and that’s when it finally hit you. it was.. you. gdragon—no jiyong your best friend liked you more than just a friend. you stood from your seat and finally looked at him trying so badly to fight off the dumb embarrassment you were facing from this. “I’ve always liked you jiyong.” is all you said before turning to face the charms again finding them pretty interesting in a moment like this. he didn’t say anything for a little while until you heard movement and saw his shoes right in front of yours. a warm hand grabbed ahold of your jaw and gently forced you to look up and your eyes finally met his own. “don’t be shy. there’s no reason to be shy with me, hm? that’s what I’ve been wanting to hear for the past few years and I thought you’d never feel the same about me.. but it’s true and I can’t believe it.” a chuckle left his lips and he looked slow at the ground before finding your eyes again. your hands grabbed ahold of his wrists and you slowly turned your head to kiss his palm before shying away from his gaze and finding the charms again. “stop that! look at me.. you’re so pretty this close. can I.. um, can I kiss you? is that okay?” he was always such a gentleman and that’s what you loved the most about him. playfully giving him a ‘pfft’ you nodded your head and awaited for his lips to meet yours—when they did you felt this spark that was so strong and addicting almost, a feeling you’ve been longing for.

[seitmai]

His bulk shifts the bed as he settles and his arm drapes across your side and stomach. You sigh, grateful for his warmth. The first time you’d shared a bed like this had been awkward and tense, your sleep restless and uneasy. The only person you’d ever been so close to in this way was your husband, and it had felt wrong to have Lucius so near. But the past few months had altered so much, and though you'd never admit it aloud, you find comfort in his closeness, in his touch. It’s a silent reminder that you’re not alone anymore.

🥹🥹🥹

You don’t answer him at first, weighing whether to share your thoughts. You know that if you brush him off, he won’t push. He’ll leave you alone, but tonight, you find, you don’t want that. "The memories are...close today," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. Lucius shifts behind you, moving to wrap his thick fingers around your forearm where it rests against the bed. The gentle pressure of his touch brings tears to your eyes, and you quickly blink them away, "Tell me about them," he says, his tone gentle. “If you wish.”

This is just such a testament to the trust and care they share for each other 🥺🥰

“I was never supposed to marry someone like him,” you continue. “But I loved him. Gods…” You let out a soft, watery laugh, a mix of sorrow and affection. “And his family took me in like I was theirs all along.” Lucius’s fingers trace the soft skin of your wrist in a comforting, quiet gesture that urges you to continue.

His small gestures just means so much more in this vulnerable situation 🫶🏻

You’re close enough that your nose brushes against his, and you both breathe the same air. Your hands curl instinctively against your chest while his rests firmly on your hip. Your legs have tangled together and yet neither of you pulls away. There’s no discomfort in this closeness, it’s nothing compared to the intimacy you’re compelled to share during the day to sell your lie.

🥰🥰🥰

“Arishat got a good laugh out of it too,” Lucius says, sounding aggrieved though you know he’s likely just as amused. It’s too dark to see his expression clearly, but you catch the flash of his teeth and know he’s smiling at the memory.

I'm so glad that they can share these happy memories and little moments of laughter together, just for them

Sharing the memories of your husband feels oddly comforting; each time you do, he seems a bit less distant, his presence warmer, more alive. It’s as painful as it is reassuring. You blink away the emotion that stirs in your chest and exhale, the heaviness easing just a little. No matter the horrors the daylight hours might bring, you know that you and Lucius will always have these moments to hold onto.

This is just so perfect and captures this shared experience that they have so well👏🏻🥹

Memorias

Summary: Late at night you and Lucius share memories of the lives you once lived.  Pairing: Lucius Verus x F!Reader Word Count: 1.1K Rating: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of spousal death, some humor and grief.  A/N: This story is part of Lucius and the Fisherman's Wife series. It takes place between Ab Initio and Post tenebras lux. Thank you to my dearest B and @ryebecca for looking this over. Inspired by this ask. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Gladiator Masterlist ♡ Masterlist

It's late, and the cool autumn evening seeps into the small cell you share with Lucius, bringing with it a chill that settles in your bones. From your place on the narrow cot, you watch him cup the flickering candle flame and extinguish it with his breath, plunging the room into a hazy, blue-tinged darkness. The bed dips and creeps as he sits, removing his sandals. You turn onto your other side, facing the wall to make room for him to slide in behind you. It’s a tight fit in a bed meant for one person. 

His bulk shifts the bed as he settles and his arm drapes across your side and stomach. You sigh, grateful for his warmth. The first time you’d shared a bed like this had been awkward and tense, your sleep restless and uneasy. The only person you’d ever been so close to in this way was your husband, and it had felt wrong to have Lucius so near. But the past few months had altered so much, and though you'd never admit it aloud, you find comfort in his closeness, in his touch. It’s a silent reminder that you’re not alone anymore.

You both adjust yourselves a few more times before finding a position that offers some comfort, even as the straw of the bed jabs into your skin and the thin, threadbare blanket provides little warmth. As you begin to drift off, Lucius's breath stirs the back of your head, soft and uneven. Then, a groan escapes him, a low sound of pain from the brutal toll the arena has taken on his body. You reach back instinctively, your fingers grazing his hip in a silent question.

"I am well," he reassures you, his voice rough but steady.

You fall silent again, blinking sleepily at the wall, but after a moment, his voice breaks the stillness. "You have been quiet today," he observes.

You don’t answer him at first, weighing whether to share your thoughts. You know that if you brush him off, he won’t push. He’ll leave you alone, but tonight, you find, you don’t want that.

"The memories are...close today," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lucius shifts behind you, moving to wrap his thick fingers around your forearm where it rests against the bed. The gentle pressure of his touch brings tears to your eyes, and you quickly blink them away,

"Tell me about them," he says, his tone gentle. “If you wish.”

“I do not know where to start,” you admit. 

"Something happy, perhaps?"

You exhale slowly, his suggestion tugging an unexpected memory to the surface.

"I was not always a fisherman’s wife," you begin, your gaze fixed on the uneven stone wall. "I was a merchant's daughter, destined for a different life. But then...I met him."

The thought of your husband is both painful and beautiful. He seems so young in your memories, even though you only lost him a short time ago. 

“I was never supposed to marry someone like him,” you continue. “But I loved him. Gods…” You let out a soft, watery laugh, a mix of sorrow and affection. “And his family took me in like I was theirs all along.”

Lucius’s fingers trace the soft skin of your wrist in a comforting, quiet gesture that urges you to continue.

"I knew nothing about mending nets, or preparing and cooking fish, but they taught me everything. One night..." You pause, a lump forming in your throat as the memory comes back in sharp detail, the simple joy of it nearly too much to bear. "I wanted to make dinner for everyone. To show my thanks. I spent hours preparing the fish, the sides, everything. But..." You hesitate, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at your lips. "I was not exactly the best at deboning the fish, you see..."

"You left a few bones in?" Lucius’s voice is soft, a teasing edge to it. 

“More than a few,” you admit with a laugh. "Not that anyone said anything at the time. They just quietly spat them out. I did not find out until later when he told me. I was mortified."

Lucius chuckles, a masculine, rich sound. “Perhaps I should humble myself with a story of my own,” he suggests, his tone light. “If only to make you feel better.”

“Oh, yes. That would certainly help,” you reply, turning over to face him. 

You’re close enough that your nose brushes against his, and you both breathe the same air. Your hands curl instinctively against your chest while his rests firmly on your hip. Your legs have tangled together and yet neither of you pulls away. There’s no discomfort in this closeness, it’s nothing compared to the intimacy you’re compelled to share during the day to sell your lie.

“It was when I was courting Arishat,” Lucius begins, his voice dipping into a more serious tone, though there’s still a glint of humor in it. “I was young, hardly yet a man. But I wanted to prove to her, and her family, that I was worthy. The problem was, I knew nothing of farming.” He pauses. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Oh?” You question, waiting for him to continue. 

“I rose early, before anyone else so I could complete all the chores by myself. I fed the chickens, collected the eggs, and saw to it that the pigs were well cared for. I even thought to milk the goat. But there was one problem. I did not know the difference between a male goat and a female one.”

To your surprise, a laugh bubbles up from your chest, one you quickly stifle with a hand over your mouth. Your shoulders shake and a rush of something light and airy courses through you, a feeling that’s both foreign and welcome after all this time.

“Arishat got a good laugh out of it too,” Lucius says, sounding aggrieved though you know he’s likely just as amused. It’s too dark to see his expression clearly, but you catch the flash of his teeth and know he’s smiling at the memory.

The two of you lapse into silence after his story, and without thinking, you shift closer. Lucius responds instinctively, pulling you in, his palm settling gently between your shoulder blades as he rolls on to his back. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Sharing the memories of your husband feels oddly comforting; each time you do, he seems a bit less distant, his presence warmer, more alive. It’s as painful as it is reassuring. You blink away the emotion that stirs in your chest and exhale, the heaviness easing just a little. No matter the horrors the daylight hours might bring, you know that you and Lucius will always have these moments to hold onto.

♡

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