#SO SORRY FOR TAKING A WEEK TO RESPOND TO THIS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

waitmyturtles · 12 hours ago

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Clearing The Air On This Wack-Ass Event Of Toxic Fandom That My Brown Ass Was Recently Dragged Into

(*References and endnotes are posted in the comments.)

This past weekend, I was unwittingly brought into an event of toxic fandom instigated by @maybe-boys-do-love. The following is an account of that event, and a rebuttal to misrepresentations that he made in his posts.

1) Chronology of Events and Clarification of Communication, Connections, and Blocks

Late last week, @lurkingshan posted a thought piece about separating art and commerce in discussions of queer shows, and talked, in part, about Spare Me Your Mercy and the show's ratings popularity in Thailand as compared to its narrative shortcomings. The piece also talks about the artistic success, versus the public outcry, of the South Korean queer show, Love In The Big City. I, and a few others, reblogged the post with thought pieces of our own. (If you are interested in following along, reading the second link is a necessity.)

Tumblr user @maybe-boys-do-love subsequently posted, separately on his blog, a reaction post to Shan's post and my reblog of her post (1). His reaction contained misreads and dangerous misrepresentations of Shan's and my writing.

Shan and @maybe-boys-do-love had previously mutually blocked each other (2). Therefore, @maybe-boys-do-love went around the block to react to Shan's post.

He did not make clear to his audience that he was reacting to Shan's post. He wrote his reaction post without citing or linking to Shan's post, and did not tag me as well, thus removing both myself and Shan from a discourse that we had instigated, and prevented his audience from knowing or understanding his reference point for his reaction.

Mutuals reached out to me with @maybe-boys-do-love's piece, having previously read Shan's and my posts.

I DMed @maybe-boys-do-love to note to him that I had seen his post, and that I preferred to be tagged directly in discourse. I wrote that I would write today's post as a means of correcting the incorrect assumptions he made about my opinions. I also checked with @lurkingshan to make her aware of the post and ask if she wanted to be included in a response. Shan stated that she had already blocked @maybe-boys-do-love for previous instances where he indirectly vague-posted about her and misrepresented her writing, and that she had no interest in responding, but was fine with me doing so.

I then publicly reblogged @maybe-boys-do-love's reaction post with a clarifying note, sharing the link to Shan's original post and my reblog of our original SMYM discourse. I noted publicly that his reaction post contained misreads and inaccuracies that I will be clarifying today.

@maybe-boys-do-love deleted my reblog. I do not see my original reblog of his reaction post in his reblog notes. Mutuals confirmed, from their blogs, that they also cannot see my original reblog of his reaction post.

I requested to him by DM that he reinstate my reblog. He did not. He reblogged my reblog from my own blog (sorry, y'all) with a response to me and a general defense of his original reaction post.

He denied in DMs that he had deleted my reblog. I stated that I didn't believe him, and requested for our DM conversation to end (3).

2) Toxic Fandom and Expectations of Personal Accountability in Public Forums

Before I get into the nitty-gritty of responding to @maybe-boys-do-love's reaction post, I want to take a quick second to talk about toxic fandom and accountability, because it's been a topic bubbling up particularly in the world of the fandom of Asian, and specifically Thai, QLs. My public and private conversations with @maybe-boys-do-love about this reaction incident, prior to this post's publication, have been filled with a kind of noxious disingenuousness and deceit that has given me the damn creeps.

I've had tussles with other bloggers before about our disagreements of the art and economics of Asian QLs. The discourse has been almost always so much fun, often argumentative, sometimes gritty, sometimes passive aggressive, and sometimes parasocial involving the celebrities and creators of these shows.

I have always kept discourse respectful, and I pride myself with integrity on responding to any point that has been shot my way. I have been blocked for my takes, and I have encouraged others to block me if my takes are not to their liking, and they attack me for them. I encourage folks who don't like my takes to curate their Tumblr experiences, and take agency for what they agree with and want to read.

If I rant about someone's potential faves -- someone's fave shows or couples -- I put trigger warnings on those posts (here and here are two examples, and the most immediate link above also has a TW), knowing there's a lot of sensitivity out there over content. I trust the judgement of readers to read those trigger warnings and to skedaddle.

In other words, I take full responsibility and accountability for my writing, and I expect my readers to engage with me in good faith in return. I'm proud of the critical posts I've made over the last two and a half years here on Tumblr, especially my exploration of the history of the Thai BL genre through my Old GMMTV Challenge project.

I posted recently that the Asian QL scholar, Dr. Thomas Baudinette, believes that the number one threat to the growth of the Thai BL industry is toxic fandom and the prioritization of problematic markets.

It's funny that I posted that a few days before this incident happened. The specific elements of toxic behavior as demonstrated by @maybe-boys-do-love, as stated above, are that he

a) subverted blocks to read and respond to Shan's post without citing her, b) he did not clarify for his audience what he was reacting to, thus rendering untruthful his real intentions in writing his post, and c) his actual reaction post contained misreads and misinterpretations of Shan's and my analysis.

I'd like to name some elements of toxic behavior and fandom that occurred in the public communication I had with @maybe-boys-do-love to highlight them in order to emphasize the disrespectful nature of this incident.

In his reblog of my clarification post to his original reaction post, @maybe-boys-do-love writes,

"I also want to respect that not everyone wants to get involved in a back-and-forth on here."

Because of previous DMs, reblogs, tags, and comments on and of my work that @maybe-boys-do-love has made, I know that he is very familiar with my blog and my writing. We have previously communicated publicly and privately. I do not know why he would make an assumption that I would not have wanted to be tagged in his original reaction post, reacting inaccurately to points I made in my Spare Me Your Mercy post, considering that he and I have a public history of prior engagement.

This assumption (remember the adage about assuming…) makes so little sense to me that I can only conclude he is coming from a stance of a disingenuous and untruthful defense.

More concerning, @maybe-boys-do-love follows with:

"I just wanted to create a post that made people whose queer tastes diverge from others feel welcome to their own preferences and appreciate that there’s not a single stance in the queer BL fandom about what qualifies as good and/or queer work."

Again, as @maybe-boys-do-love is familiar with my blog, I do not know why he would assume that my work is insular so as to not welcome different perspectives and discourse on my opinions -- as he and I had actually engaged, in the past, on our opinions of other content, and that there is overwhelming proof on my blog that I love engaging in discourse with others.

The statement that "there's not a single stance in the queer BL fandom" about my work is disingenuous, disrespectful, and toxic.

If it's not clear in the most obvious way -- and it may not be clear to some -- I am a personal blogger, posting my opinions and analysis, on a personal blog. My blog isn't Encyclopedia fucking Brittanica.

@maybe-boys-do-love indicates in his reblog that his mutuals helped him get around his and Shan's blocks.

He also identifies as a "flaming gay guy" to characterize his position for his love of Spare Me Your Mercy, leading him to go around the blocks to comment on Shan's original post.

"Friends of mine shared the post with me knowing the love I, as a flaming gay guy, had for Spare Me Your Mercy."

I want to note that in the context of this characterization, I myself reached out to three gay male friends (one Asian friend, and two white friends married to each other). (There's nothing that IRL people love more than an Internet beef.) These three individuals range on the flaming spectrum, and assured me that @maybe-boys-do-love's position does not count as spoken monolithically for the gay male community (4).

Which leads me to my last point (for now) about toxic fandom. As iterated above: these Tumblr blogs we write on are personal blogs, homes to personal opinions, created by individuals.

The danger of trying to leverage group-think or group-speak to validate toxic opinions and toxic engagement with others is high within fandom discourse. I see it all the time on X in BL shipper circles. Maybe @maybe-boys-do-love's friends were too cowardly to write reaction posts of their own, and asked their friend to write one on their behalf. If that's the case, @maybe-boys-do-love can show us the receipts. But I'm guessing that didn't happen.

Within group and family therapy arenas, and human relations and business environments, counseling often focuses on "I-speak" -- the practice of using the "I" pronoun to claim accountability for facts, opinions, recounting of details, and so on. Using the "we" pronoun to justify a position -- without identifying who your "we" is -- weakens a stance, and at the same time, creates panic and fear within a group or community. It's a tactic often used in gaslighting or supremacist situations to generate collective fear over incorrect facts and threats.

This tactic is useless in a scenario like this, when there is ample published proof that @maybe-boys-do-love published a misrepresentative reaction post that did not link to the original source, deceiving his audience; he subsequently tried to monolithically speak for others, and to leverage and claim community to justify his doing so. It's wrong, it's disingenuous, and it's toxic.

I wouldn't want this guy speaking for me, and I hope readers of this post wouldn't want him to, either.

3) Responding to Misrepresented Points in MBDL's Reaction Post

Note: Much of @maybe-boys-do-love's reaction post reacted to points that @lurkingshan made about Spare Me Your Mercy and the Asian QL genre. I have consulted with Shan on my responses and she has approved them.

My entire rebuttal is long. An abridged version is below, and the entire rebuttal is linked here at this private link.

I want to start my response to misrepresented points in @maybe-boys-do-love's reaction post by highlighting the most noxious misread he made. He writes,

"and just a friendly reminder that a simple BL romcom is equally as queer of a story as a story about HIV."

Much of @maybe-boys-do-love's reaction post seemed magically conjured out of his ass to assume or imply that certain points were made by @lurkingshan when they were most certainly not.

NOT ONCE IN @lurkingshan's POST WAS LOVE IN THE BIG CITY DESCRIBED AS A "STORY ABOUT HIV." IN FACT, HIV WAS NEVER MENTIONED AT ALL, BY ANYONE, IN THE ORIGINAL POST, OR ANY OF THE REBLOGS AND ADDITIONS.

That was a heinous and noxious misread and reduction of @lurkingshan's post, wholly inaccurate and misrepresentative of the tone and content of Shan's original writing, and more revealing about him and his perspectives about the shows, than anyone he was pretending to fight.

And nowhere in @lurkingshan's original post did she claim that a BL romcom was not as "equally as queer" as any other story.

I want to respond specifically to an analysis of capitalism and markets that I made in my reblog of Shan's post, that @maybe-boys-do-love then reacted to.

"just a reminder, if we wanna talk about capitalism, that the whole idea of a work being better or worse, queerer or less queer, more valuable or less valuable based on it’s reception in numbers (either higher or lower) is not something Marx and Engels would be into, since they ascribed to exchange value over use value. The labor put into the work is where it’s at—and all of these shows had plentiful hours of (queer) labor put into them! But not everyone who talks about the wrongs of capitalism on here is actually interested in the finer details of how capitalism operates, the full political and economic realities of the companies making these shows, nor the individuals who are forced to fight for change within capitalism’s global structure."

This was such a convoluted, random, and inaccurate reaction to my post that I had to send it to a family member who is an actual professional economist (again, remember, IRL people love internet beefs) (5). He assured me that Karl Marx and Fredreich Engels would NOT have wanted to get tangled up in this beef.

But, anyway. I'm not a communist, and when I speak about capitalism and the markets to which Asian QL content is marketed to, I'm not analyzing the quantity of labor put into these shows that needs to be exchanged on the various Asian markets in order for the shows to be made. That's a very specific sightline into production budgets that maybe tingles @maybe-boys-do-love's brain. I think he was just trying to sound smart.

I want to be clear that he reacted to nothing I wrote in my post. This was a made-up stream of something that only established how he watches and judges shows.

But because I used the word "capitalism" in my post to talk about how GMMTV and other studios are addressing queerness and queer perspectives in their shows, @maybe-boys-do-love found reason to take issue with my writing, and to assume an air of intellectualism to establish a false sense of superiority -- by posting drivel.

All responses can be found at this link.

4) Conclusion and a Public Request to Respect Boundaries

As I wrote above: I wrote this post to make a public record of rebuttal against misinterpretations made about my writing by @maybe-boys-do-love.

I will publicly request that @maybe-boys-do-love do not contact me again. Do not reblog, tag, or comment on my posts.

If I have to block @maybe-boys-do-love, I will. However, I want the ability to read any further reaction he might have to this rebuttal, especially if he continues to besmirch my writing inaccurately and disingenuously.

As he demonstrated that he could not respect Shan's boundaries prior to this incident, I will say publicly now:

RESPECT MY BOUNDARIES.

And I want to thank the many mutuals who reached out to me during this incident to offer your support, and to notify me that this public incident of misrepresentation was taking place.

#toxic fandom #fandom discourse #fandom #fandom culture

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 3 hours ago

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P*rn ☆ Chapter 2, Moving noises?

Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Haha, take this! 2 chapters in one day!

Mature content under the cut.

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'Are you alright? You look tired.' Tara sounds awfully concerned and you can imagine why. The bags under your eyes might as well be down to your knees by now. Turns out your new neighbor is nocturnal. You couldn't care less about the moving noises, but the fact that they only happen past ten pm is killing you.

'No kidding,' you sass at her. Quickly, you smack your hands in front of your face. Sure, you're known to have an attitude but never to Tara. She's too sweet. 'I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.'

Tara frowns: 'Is it that new neighbor of yours? Kieran told me he has a tendency to stay up late.'

'That's an understatement. He's nocturnal.' Tara lets out an annoyed groan in solidarity, but it just sounds cute coming from her. 'It's fine. I'm sure he's almost done. I mean, how much stuff can you fit into one of those units? You've seen mine, the one next door isn't much bigger.'

'Must be a big change, considering you and Zayne were so close.'

'We still are,' you tell her, 'we just see each other a little less now. I do miss him a lot.' She nods but her eyes have a little twinkle in them and you know where this is going. 'No, stop that. Zayne and I are just friends.'

'Never even... you know,' she questions with a cheeky smile and a wiggle of her brow.

'No, never,' you laugh, 'as I said, just friends. I don't know, he just feels like a brother. I mean, I've teased him before as a joke and nothing “physical” happened on his end. So I don't think he likes me either.'

'He goes through an awful lot of effort to be “just friends,” just saying.'

'Yeah, yeah, sure. You have a very filthy mind for the way you look.'

'It's been said,' she responds with a gleaming smile. You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, looking her up and down.

'About that.' Her body tenses up every so slightly. 'Your boyfriend is not what I expected at all. I mean, I've seen him pick you up before and he looks quite tough, but he seemed just as awkward as you are.' Tara's eyes flicker around the room a while, seemingly not wanting to explain anything to you, until her phone lights up. She quickly checks the notification and gasps with excitement.

'Hold that thought, so Kieran just told me they're doing drinks to celebrate Sylus’ move. That means they must be done,' she states in a chipper tone. You raise an eyebrow at the strange change of topic. There's a freaky side to that woman, you're sure of it.

'So?'

'So, I'm dropping Kieran off so he can have some drinks but maybe we can have a girls' night,' she suggests. Considering Red Crow isn't posting anything today for once, your evening is completely open. Could be fun to have a quiet night in with Tara.

'Sure, sounds fun. What are you thinking? Movie, face masks, board game?'

'All of the above,' she squeals in excitement, 'I'll bring some snacks.'

'Great, just let me know when you and Kieran are driving over.'

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

To be a good neighbor, you decided to get this Sylus guy a little something as a housewarming gift. Considering they'll be drinking; a bottle of whiskey can never go wrong. Lucky for you, you were gifted a bottle of whiskey a few weeks ago but you know that one is not quite your style. The Writer's Tears single pot still. It's a very nice whiskey and you've had different whiskeys from Writer's Tears before, but you're just not the biggest whiskey drinker. It's expensive too, so it might give a good impression.

Tara just texted you she's on her way, which means you've got about fifteen minutes before she gets here. You considered waiting for her and Kieran to hand over the gift so it could be in the spirit of "oh, just dropping my friend's boyfriend off" but that’s just weird. Feels like you're a parent dropping your kid off at school and you're not about that.

So now you're here, in front of the oh-so familiar door that you used to have a key to. Part of you is really curious how the place looks now, another part of you wants to keep the memory of how it used to be in a time capsule. Either way, you've got a present for your neighbor and this interaction could be done within a minute if you do it right.

You press the doorbell and hear something fall followed by a string of curses. The door opens fast and the person on the other side, who you think is probably Sylus, towers over you. You look up at him with wide eyes and recognize him right away. That man right there is the reason for most of your pleasure and orgasms. Red Crow.

'What,' he barks. Rude , and not at all what you would've expected. Still, it takes you a second to take all of him in. He’s even taller than you imagined, eyes even more piercing, face even sharper. It's like a fucking God leaning over you and staring down like you're no more than a puny peasant.

And a switch flicks in your head.

'Fix your tone,' you huff, 'I'm your neighbor. I thought I'd bring you a housewarming present.' His eyes widen ever so slightly. How you managed to muster up such a bratty tone in the face of who's talked you over the edge more times than you can count is a mystery to you, but it feels kind of nice to see him stunned like this. You hold out the box the whiskey is packaged in towards him.

His shoulders relax and he does actually fix his face. His features soften a little and his eyes no longer stare at you like you're an intruder. Your heart starts racing, as if your body just now realizes who is in front of you. You beg to the Gods above that your cheeks don't get bright red. A cold shiver goes down your spine when he takes the box from you with a flicker of an amused smile, the box suddenly seeming much smaller in his hands. 'Thank you, that's nice.'

'No worries. Tara told me you're having a party, so I thought that wouldn't hurt,' you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. He studies your face for a second, searching for the answers to a question he doesn't ask you.

'You know Tara?' You nod.

'She's my coworker.' Shit, your voice isn't as steady as it was at the start anymore. You've got this man on a fucking pedestal and he's here, in reach. It's a weird feeling. Your panties are soaked but you're highly put off by the way he greeted you. Still... there are very little appropriate thoughts going on in your head right now. If this was your last day on earth, you'd have this man bend you like a pretzel right here right now in the hallway.

He nods, amused like a cat playing with its prey. 'Is that right?’

'Yes. Whelp, nice meeting you. I'm gonna go back to my place,' you ramble awkwardly and quickly turn to slip back into your own apartment, accidentally slamming the door. How the hell are you going to face Tara now? Your body is going into overdrive. You bet you could cum just hearing your vibrator turn on. However, you can't risk it. Tara has told you Kieran drives like a maniac and always drives if he's sober, which is now. She could be in front of your door any second.

"Just breathe," you tell yourself, "it's just a man." Yeah, just a man, a man that could fuck you like there's no tomorrow. Shit, your thoughts aren't your friends right now. A cold shower ought to work. Hopefully.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

The bottle of whiskey from his neighbor was put on display on his bar cart. He knows the kind and that type of whiskey isn't for parties. Not even small parties like this. He figures it might be a regift or something. No sane person would give a total stranger an expensive whiskey like this. Never mind a stranger who has been a disturbance from the start.

Then again, they're not really strangers. He saw the look in her eyes. He's seen it before and hasn't been wrong about it yet. It's that "I've seen you naked" look. To be fair, Sylus would've preferred to stay anonymous in this building for a little longer but considering his neighbor is friends with Tara, she probably won't tell anyone what he does. That is, if she knows what her boyfriend Kieran does since he wears a mask in his content.

But there was more in her eyes. More than just scandal or embarrassment. There was lust. A lot of it. So much so that Sylus feared he might've caused his pants to tent if she would've bit her lip. Best for both of them that she left when she did.

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally, he's not one to obsess like this but there was just something about her. Something about how she looked at him, about the way she commanded him to fix his tone. It's been a long damn time since a woman showed that kind of dominance to him and, shit, it turns him on like crazy.

Maybe, just maybe, he can rub one out real quick. He sits down on his bed and looks down at the bulge in his pants. He truly hopes he didn't look like that before. He hadn't seen her look at it. Besides, would that be so bad? It looked like she wanted him to take her right then and there, and he would have if she asked. Or demanded, he isn't picky.

A devious thought pops up in his head. He promised his followers he'd record himself getting off if they begged and beg they did. Maybe he could tease her with this as well if she really does watch him. If it wasn't just a look of attraction and intimidation, but recognition.

He whips out his phone, puts it on his dresser across from the bed pointed at his crotch and upper body with his thighs still visible. His face is just out of frame, not on purpose but he doesn't mind his followers not seeing how flustered one small interaction got him. Not that they'd ever know why, but she would.

He sits down on the edge of the bed once more to check if everything's in frame when he hears it. The shower. Her shower. So, her bathroom and his are next to each other, which means their bedrooms are probably also next to each other.

“Good to know,” he thinks to himself, and that's when he hears it. The softest, most muffled of moans followed by a string of whimpers. He feels his dick twitch against his pants like it's being chocked, his ears feel like they're burning while a wicked grin plays on his lips.

And then he presses record.

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lowkeyhollland · 2 days ago

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bed chem

peter parker x reader you & peter are roommates, but the absolute complete opposite of each other. or are you? chapter one <- chapter 2

It had been a week and a half since your encounter with New York’s friendly neighborhood hero. Spider-Man wasn’t really on your mind as much as classes had started and you already felt like there was so much to start on. You had also convinced yourself it was just a dream and decided not to tell the rest of your friends.

Knowing you wouldn’t get anything done at home, you ended up at a coffee shop on campus to start on some assignments due this weekend. Though it was never like this before college, the idea of going out on the weekend is what made you stay on top of everything. It might not be the healthiest motivation, but hey, it was something. Music was blaring in your ears as you tuned out the sounds of the rest of the world, allowing the chaos of others around you to create pressure to stay on task, as anyone could see if you were off track.

There was a shadow looming over you that made you pause your music, only to be met face-to-face with your roommate.

“When did you get here?” It came out more rude than you intended, but you were locked in.

“I said hi to you like ten minutes ago, got my drink, and came back. If you want to be alone that’s fine! Sorry, I tried to ask but—“Peter rambled on and on but you put a hand up to stop him.

“No! No, it’s chill,” you reassured him. “Sorry, I get pretty passionate about color-coding my calendar.” Peter softly chuckled at the rainbow of pens scattered around the table as you gestured to your planner.

“Surprised you’re already working so hard this early into the semester.”

“Appreciate it while it lasts. this is how I am for maybe the first month and then burnout happens before Thanksgiving break and then I lock back in by finals.” Peter couldn’t help himself but laugh again. You smiled, admiring the crinkles by his eyes when he laughed and how his brown eyes lit up— in a friendly manner, admiring him, that is.

“So, you going home soon?” It was strange to hear Peter ask if you were going home, knowing he was referring to your shared apartment. You loved having him as a roommate, but it was still so fresh & sometimes he still felt like a stranger.

“Yeah, probably. It’s Friday and knowing my friends, we’re gonna hit up the frats or something.”

“Seems fun. Wanna walk back together?” You nodded and started to pack up your things before exiting the cafè.

“You should come out with us one night,” you suggested. The brunette boy shook his head with a smile.

“I don’t think the frats would like me showing up. Plus I’m not really the ‘going out’ type.” You didn’t respond, instead nodded along.

Within the first few weeks of living with you, Peter had noticed you’re more of the quiet type. Despite having opposite lifestyles, the two of you were similar in other ways; very reserved when speaking about life or allowing the comfortability of silence to take over. It was never awkward between you two, well maybe the first week, but it was just how he liked it later on— comfortable. Though, that never stops him from questioning what your life was really like.

You knew it was wrong but, hell, it felt so right. Your hands found their way up to the mop of curly blonde hair as you kissed him. The lights were flashing and music was blaring as your bodies moved together in sync, but it didn’t stop you from being in this moment with him.

“Wanna take this upstairs?” He whispered into your ear sending chills down your spine. You nodded as he took your hand and led you through the crowd up to his room.

This wasn’t the first time you’ve seen him, more like seven months with him, but not truly with him. It was almost like a routine between the two of you on nights like these; you show up at his frat, he saves the best drinks for you and your friends, and you always somehow end up tangled in him. It’s not your proudest moment every time his hands are roaming your body, making it seem like he wants you, but sometimes, it just feels so good.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groaned as he threw you onto his bed, not taking another minute to reconnect his lips with yours. All you did was hum in agreement. “Look so good in that skirt,” he mumbled against your collarbone. Just as his hand was inching up your inner thigh, a phone started ringing.

“Shit— Nate, I’m so sorry. Just give me one sec,” you pulled away from him and he rolled onto the bed and laid down next to you as you answered the call. He left wet kisses on your inner thigh and you played with his hair while talking to your friend. After the call, you threw your phone onto the bed and laid back, allowing the pillows to engulf you.

“Everything alright?” He asked, his voice tender.

“I gotta go— Madi’s fucked up.” Nate pouted and tried to kiss you to stay, but you shook your head and pushed him away. “I’m so drunk that if you do that I might actually stay.”

“Maybe that’s the plan,” he nuzzled his head into your neck & wrapped his arms around your waist. It was moments like this that made you want to stay around, that made every memory between the two of you worth it despite the loneliness you felt around him. “Hey, take one more shot with me? Before you go?” He took out a bottle of soju. you playfully rolled your eyes before taking the bottle from him.

“You know I can’t say no to this shit,” you giggled as you took a swig from it.

“We still on for Monday?” Nate asked. butterflies erupted in your stomach as they always do when you get to see him outside of a party setting.

“Yeah! Wait, what’s Monday again?” Your words slurred together as you stared into his green eyes.

“I need help on a paper.” Those butterflies died in your stomach.

“Right… yeah. Just text me,” You gathered your things and tied your converse. He slipped off the bed and grabbed your face, kissing you one last time.

“I’ll see ya.” That was all Nate said.

Those three words haunted you on the way back to everyone’s apartments. There was no sympathy for your friends or concern if you would get home safe. You felt that last shot of soju really hit as you stumbled into your apartment. Mumbling a few curse words, you hoped & prayed you didn’t wake up Peter.

Not having the energy, you kicked off your sneakers and fell onto your bed, telling yourself you’ll get ready to sleep soon. The world was still spinning even when you closed your eyes to let the darkness take over. You started to think about everything between you and Nate, if there would ever be you and him.

Tap, tap, tap

Your eyebrows furrowed together, but you brushed off the sound, assuming it was just your drunken state of mind. The tapping got louder and it was starting to give you a headache. Giving in to the noises, you slowly got up and turned towards the window.

“Spider-man?!” You almost yelled in shock.

“Hey…”

chapter one <-

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman #tom holland

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thewinter-eden · 20 hours ago

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Blink Twice if You Need Help

images are mine (except middle CB pic that I got from pinterest). please do not use without permission. ATE pcs are my inspo for this series.

part 3 of the skz crack!horror series.

pairing: Seo Changbin x fem!reader rating: mature, dark themes summary: stalker!Changbin has been following you for weeks. He’s looking for his next target, and he’s obsessed with you. While he’s watching you, however, he learns the secret you keep—you’re being routinely robbed by your addict brother. After watching this cycle of abuse end with you crying almost every night, Changbin takes pity.

warnings: Familial abuse, drug addict brother, satirical but definitive death of character, physical abuse, stalking, nonconsensual photographs, creepiness, fear, breakup, blood and injury, strangulation (brief, no death), automotive-related death, please for the love of god don’t take this seriously, Changbin’s kinda icky (I’m sorry babes I swear I love you), chai lattes

word count: 6k

Comment a request to be tagged.

series info

You’re radiant.

You always are, have been since the moment you first stepped foot in his café.

But today, you’re radiant in blue. It’s a sweater he’s seen a dozen times, but now as you tiptoe up to the counter, pushing your sleeves up to your elbows and baring half a dozen clinking bracelets of various metals and stones, he thinks he’s never seen anything so perfect.

He responds to your chirped good morning and waits for the next notes of your voice to tell him what you’re ordering, and he can’t help but trace the lines of your face with his eyes as you glance over the menu.

Startled out of his admiring trance by your sharp gaze pinning him with a smile, he forces his stare to stay above your lips as you give a half laugh and request, “A chai latte with oatmilk and extra cloves, please.”

You never try anything new.

Today it’s yellow.

The bell above the door rings an announcement of your arrival, and there you are; wearing a warm yellow dress with thick black tights that keep the chill off, your cheeks flushed from the cold.

He can’t say your smile lights up a room, because from his perspective, your smile blacks the room out. Everyone else disappears. No one and nothing exists except for you, right before his eyes, your windswept hair a halo around your brow.

He hands off the drink he’s just finished making for another regular customer, sending them out the door with a kind smile, and then turns to you just as your fingertips touch down on his counter top.

It’s almost procedural, the way he anticipates each move you make just before you make it. You slide your fingertips towards the register before laying your palms flat, cocking your hip against the counter as though you have to lean closer to see the menu.

Your eyes trace the words and pictures for a few long seconds, gifting him with the view of your throat curving up towards your jaw, and the contemplative bow of your lips. And then, finally, you’ll drop your eyes to his, smile like you’ve never been more excited to order a cup of coffee, and then you place your order.

Always a chai latte with oatmilk and extra cloves.

“Good morning,” He greets you when you appear in a pink jumpsuit. His eyes follow the sounds of your bracelets jingling, up to the clink of the two necklaces you always wear, up to the cheeky swish of the earrings that ornate all three of your lobe piercings.

Your eyes fall from the menu to his face like they’ve been physically pushed, surprised by his friendly voice, and he doesn’t think he imagines the sudden rush of heat that crawls up your throat with a wash of color. “Oh.”

He’s caught you off-guard; he knows, because you’ve never given him that upward tilt of your voice before.

“Good morning!” You sing back, that smile pulling your lips back.

“Chai latte with oatmilk?” He recalls, already lifting a cup and holding his marker at the ready.

“With extra cloves.” You confirm, slightly in awe that he’s remembered.

Of course he remembers.

He flashes you a wink just before he turns around to start on your drink, and sees you in his peripheral moving towards the pickup counter. You’re smiling down at the rings that clutter your fingers, and he can’t help the swarm in his chest that floods in as a result of the fact that this time, you’re the one flustered over him.

The day that you arrive at the café to find that your latte is already made and ready for you, you’re missing one of your earrings. He catches your eye as you enter, his gaze flickering over that blue sweater again as you approach the register.

Before you can order, he’s pushing your full, steaming cup towards you and the screen is already flashing your total. His eyes flick from yours to the empty piercing on your left lobe. “Good morning,” He says.

You’re staring down at the cup with a sort of delighted, half-confusion, before your gaze snaps back up to him. “Is this—”

“Chai latte with oatmilk and extra cloves.” He confirms with a grin. Then he falters, tilting his head at you. “Unless you want something different today?”

Your hands bring the cup closer to you, possessively. “No, this is perfect.” You argue, and then you’re digging for your billfold. “Thank you…” You drift off, eyebrows lifting hopefully as you hint around for his name.

“Changbin.” A pink tint covers his cheeks as his grin softens. “And you?”

You give him your name, and your money, and leave the café with butterflies in your stomach.

When he finds the missing earring a few feet from the entrance to his café, accidentally dropped on the sidewalk, he scoops it up and tucks it in his pocket with care.

On an unseasonably warm day, you appear at his register in a shorter black skirt and a slouchy gray sweater that hangs off all the protruding points of your body with teasing subtlety. He passes you your drink, with the addition of a new flavor of muffin that his baker is trying out in the form of mini pastries, and notices that your skirt is well above your knees, fluttering around your mid-thigh in a way that has his gut clenching.

The tights don’t distract at all from the musculature of your legs and the curve of your ass that suddenly seems dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

“Good morning, Changbin,” You greet cheerfully, and the sound of his name in your mouth brings his attention back to your bright features.

He makes sure no one follows you home. Your sweater is too flirty with your curves, your skirt too short, for him to rely on the strength and decency of lesser men.

You make it home, safe and sound, to your modest and tasteful townhouse. You live on the ground floor, surrounded by windows and bathed in soft fluorescent lighting.

You listen to pop music in the mornings, and early 2000s grunge rock in the afternoons. He takes note of the artists you listen to the most, and, soon enough, when you walk into the café in the mornings, there’s familiar music playing through the speakers.

He lives for the way it makes you smile when you notice.

As you get ready every morning, you put the same TV show on in the background, so he finds the station. It takes a few days for you to realize that he has it on one of the TVs mounted in the corners of his café, but when you do, you start lingering for a few extra moments every day to catch a couple seconds with fondness on your face.

He’s never watched an episode of the show in his life, but if it gets him two more sentences out of you every morning, consider him obsessed. He watches it all the time.

All of your snacks and meals are high protein and low sugar, because you go to the gym for two hours every other day and your one self indulgent treat is the sugary chai latte with oatmilk and extra cloves that he makes for you.

This fact warms him from the inside out, because he resonates with this lifestyle choice. Your gym is near his, and it’s almost as large, almost as nice. You’re a hard worker, your beautiful curves the product of self discipline and dedication. He stops offering you his baker’s pastries and starts giving you the rich and smoky cheesy egg bites instead, and starts to realize that the guilty smile you once accepted your freebies with is now replaced by weightless excitement.

There’s not a single inch of you that needs less sugar, of course. He’d give you every muffin in his shop if he thought that was what you wanted. But he understands the yen for the feeling of progress in the gym, and the burden of cheating yourself through bad nutrition, so if he can help you feel like you’re getting stronger, he will. Hell, he’d start serving steak in his café if he thought you had an iron deficiency.

“Changbin!” You keen one morning as you flounce to the register in a flattering red blouse that he watched you pick out this morning. You lean against the counter with a great heave, and past the rush of excitement he feels for the very deliberate interaction you’re giving him, he notices a trace of greenish blue wrapping around your throat.

Then you turn your head and the light shifts the shadows on your skin, and he’s not sure.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” He greets casually, despite the pink tinge to his cheeks. “What’s going on?”

You scrub your nails over your scalp with exasperation and then set your enormous pleading eyes on him. “Binnie…”

His gut swirls.

That’s a new nickname.

It’s in his head now, locked into his brain, the way your tongue forms the sweet sound of his name like that.

“Changbin,” you say again. “Changbinnie.”

Despite the absolute earthquake happening in his chest, he gives you the flattest expression of suspicion that he can manage, and hopes his skin tone isn’t currently tomato. “I’m not sure I like the sound of this.” It’s a lie.

A bald faced lie. He loves the sound of this. He wants you to keep repeating his name like that until it’s all he can hear.

Your bottom lip juts out in a pout, and he has to physically turn away to clean the milk steamer before he loses control in his place of business.

“Tell me you haven’t made my latte yet?” You plead, leaning further on the counter.

When he glances over his shoulder, he sees the way you’ve inadvertently showcased your breasts for him, and he spins around again, pinching his eyes shut. As though his apartment walls aren’t disappearing more and more by the day behind pictures of you.

As though he doesn’t know every single color in your underwear drawer.

“No, not yet. Why?” Another lie. The latte is sitting by his left hand, still steaming, just waiting for your manicured hands and perfectly lined lips.

“My blender broke this morning.” You whine, and dig in your purse for something. “I know you have smoothies on your menu, but I was wondering if you would add my protein powder to one? Is that legal, to take an ingredient from a customer?” You flap an admittedly suspicious looking ziplock bag at him. “I have a protein smoothie every morning for breakfast, and at this point it’s more of a crutch than my latte and I’ll just spiral for the rest of the day if I don’t start it with a strawberry shake, so please, Binnie—”

He cuts you off with one hand covering the one of yours that holds the ziplock, and the other pushing your latte towards you. “I have protein powder. You want vanilla or strawberry for your strawberry smoothie?”

Your mouth makes a beautiful “O” shape as your free hand cups the hot latte. “I thought you hadn’t made it?”

Changbin tosses a wink over his shoulder, already grabbing the vanilla protein powder. He already knows it’ll be vanilla. He already knows you want the whey powder and not the plant-based. He already knew about the blender.

Your morning may have started with an unexpected hiccup, but his is going exactly according to plan.

“Pull up a chair and drink while I make your smoothie. The latte is on the house.”

You immediately protest, but he won’t hear of it. He basks in your company as you sip down every bit of your comfort beverage, and then offers idle chatter between the scenes of your TV show as you spend ten minutes more than usual in his café, drinking your protein smoothie.

He got a full thirty minutes with you this morning, and it’s worth every second.

The morning that you wake up with another man steals the smile from his face. You must have brought him home with you last night, invited him to stay over, and are now foregoing your sacred protein smoothie in your new blender for a more traditional breakfast of eggs and toast, for the sake of your half-naked guest.

Changbin’s heels haven’t cooled even by the time you make it into the café for your latte, and he’s especially somber when you order an additional drink, a reeking pumpkin cappuccino that he’s forgotten to erase from the menu from a month ago.

He notices the extra warmth in your smile; your excitement is diminished, replaced with a satisfied contentment that makes his shoulders tense.

You’re falling in love with this new man, blushing down at your phone and walking home with your chin high, waking up in the mornings with a smile on your lips.

Changbin serves you every morning, your rich and creamy oatmilk chai latte with extra cloves, and the nauseating pumpkin cappuccino for your bedfellow. He doesn’t know why this man doesn’t come to the coffee shop with you, if he sends money or if he makes you pay for both of your drinks, if he even likes the autumn atrocity that Changbin makes with shaking hands every day.

The fire in his throat only heats when your drink order abruptly changes to two hot green teas. He watches you turn down his readily prepared chai latte with an awkward darting of your eyes, lifting your hand in refusal as though if he doesn’t take it away, you’ll reach out and snatch it from him.

“I’m actually getting some green teas this morning,” You say, and he knows he isn’t imagining the disappointed chuckle in your tone.

He takes your discarded usual away without hesitation, suddenly concerned that you may have developed an allergy or an intolerance for your favorite drink, but you just swipe a palm over your forehead and lean your elbow on the counter, settling into the comfort of your casual friendship with the attentive barista. “My boyfriend and I have decided to start eating healthier,”

Changbin can’t bring himself to believe you. You eat vegetables and chicken or fish for lunch, you snack on cheese and meat, you bake with honey instead of sugar, and he can’t remember the last time he’s seen you without a water bottle in hand, in various stages of emptiness.

“We’re opting away from the lattes and cappuccinos for a bit.” You give another awkward laugh that turns his stomach, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

“You like the green tea?” He’s surprised. You have tea at home, of course, but it’s all black teas—rich and spicy and meant to be topped with a swirl of milk and brown sugar.

The skin around your mouth tightens as you fight a shiver. “Oh, no, but my boyfriend does.”

“I can make you something different,” He offers. “I have a bunch of teas. I just got in a new chai spice blend—” He breaks off when you raise your hand again, a physical barrier between your weakening determination and his tempting offer.

“That’s okay, Binnie. I think it tastes like soap and grass, but I promised him I’d give it a chance. Just the two green teas, please.” And you give him a sweet smile, just to make sure he knows that you’re not frustrated with him so much as your new dietary commitments.

You know he’s about to argue again, so you toss an appreciative glance around his coffee bar. “You live around here? I can’t imagine working every day like you do.”

“The apartment upstairs is mine,” He explains. “This café is my life; it’s not really a job anymore.”

“Wow.” Your soft voice is awash with jealousy. “That sounds like a dream.”

He hums softly at you, pulling the tea from his shelf. “It only tastes like soap and grass if you brew it too hot,” He says, and flicks on the kettle, indicating the thermometer on the lid. “If it tastes fishy, or sudsy, it’s either steeped too long or brewed too hot. Brew it low, steep it briefly, add a drop of honey, I swear it tastes like summer. If you don’t like it, I’ll give it to you for free.”

You protest, rolling your eyes nervously at his kindness, insisting that you’re not going to like it but you’re going to pay anyway. But when he hands you the drink—yours with honey and the boyfriend’s without—he urges you to take a delicate sip and watches your anticipating frown fade into pleasant surprise.

“Oh, it’s not bad.” You say, and beam at him.

He beams right back. “You want more honey?”

You shake your head. “No, this is fine. I’m still not sold on the flavor, but it’s not rancid like it’s always been from other shops. Thank you, Changbin!” And then you skip right out of his shop, on your way to deliver the drinks you don’t even like to your boyfriend.

But then, the morning that you arrive at his register with dark circles under your eyes and a downward slant to your lips doesn’t bring him the sense of relief that he thought it would. Your voice is low and unengaging as you order the teas, your smile unconvincing as you pay and leave without so much as a glance toward the TV.

Your boyfriend starts waking up earlier than you, leaving you to eat breakfast by yourself. It allows you to go back to your usual protein smoothies for breakfast, which seems to grant you at least a little bit of peace.

It seems that you’re still meeting him for lunch, because you still come in and order the two teas that you hate so much, but you hardly even talk to Changbin anymore. He watches your posture droop when you walk home, watches the way your muscles bunch and tense when your boyfriend looms behind you to greet you, hears the rising voices float across the street as you argue for the hundredth time.

Changbin hates the man who’s taken you from lovesick and floating on air to burdened and fearful. He hates the snippets of your life that he gets to see, the early morning sighs of disappointment as you realize you’re waking up alone again, the drag of your feet as you prepare to head in and grab the teas, your discouraged slump after lunch when your boyfriend comes home from work.

So when the morning comes that you arrive with your makeup sloppily done, tear tracks splitting the seamless layer of your foundation, and you order a single chai latte with oatmilk and extra cloves, Changbin smiles sympathetically at you and gives it to you for free.

He had watched you receive the breakup text over breakfast, his heart keening as you cried into your smoothie, his gut clenching as you sniffled your way through applying and reapplying your mascara, smiling proudly as you stared at yourself in your bedroom mirror and set your shoulders, determined to go about your day as you intended.

“His loss, gorgeous.” He says, unprompted, as your purple-tipped fingers curl around your cup of comfort.

Your eyes snap up to him, wide with surprise, and for a second his smile stalls. But then he reaches across the counter and presses a napkin into your hand, gesturing to where your eyeliner has fallen from your lower lid, and says, “I assume the tears, the single drink, and the lack of rancid green tea means your boyfriend isn’t in the picture anymore.”

Suspicion falls from your shoulders and you dab at your eyes brokenly. “Your tea was never rancid, Changbin.”

He reaches across the counter in a move that he, himself, wasn’t anticipating, and covers your hand with his own. “I know you’re having a bad day, gorgeous, but you can always talk to me.”

That brings a smile to your face. “Do you give all your customers such five star service?”

“Only the crying ones,” He winks, and then gives your hand a squeeze once he notices that you haven’t tried to pull it away.

You gather yourself with a bit of his offered strength, pushing your shoulders back and swallowing the next threatening round of tears, and flash him a smile that holds a trace of your old vibrancy.

He smiles proudly back at you. “Can I assume you’ll be taking your usual from now on?”

You nod, pulling a long drink from the beverage you’ve missed for so long, and give him the most beautiful sigh of contentment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Binnie.”

“See you soon, gorgeous.”

It turns out, that ominous bruise on your throat from a couple months ago wasn’t a trick of the light.

You bounce into the café wearing a shade of green that makes your eyes pop, earrings jingling as you make your way to the register. When you take a habitual gander at the menu, as though you’ll ever order anything but your usual ever again, he sees it again.

Not greenish blue, like it was that time, but a bright red and darkening purple, freshly settling into the flesh of your smooth throat.

You’re chattering about something, his peripheral catching flashes of your teeth as you talk, and his ears catch the clatter of your bracelets when you gesture with a hand to punctuate whatever point you’re making, but Changbin’s eyes are on the faint handprint beneath your jaw.

A paper to-go cup, mercifully empty, crushes in his angry fist, and your words stop abruptly.

“Binnie?”

His mouth stutters open, mind searching for words to demand an explanation for the signs of violence against you, stare still stuck on the marring of your perfect skin and supple flesh, when a delicate blanket of warmth covers his shaking hand. His mouth clicks shut, gaze dropping to where your hand is wrapped around his.

“Binnie. It’s fine.” How you knew what is speeding through his mind escapes him, because all he can see is another handprint, this one wrapped around your wrist, barely concealed by the stacks of mismatched bracelets.

When he finally catches your eyes, you look embarrassed and ashamed, but not unwell. Your smile is weaker this time, and his fingers pinch around the crumpled cup when he notices your lips trembling. “Binnie, I swear it’s fine.”

He takes your hand on his as permission to reach for you, and he tosses the cup in the trash and leans against the counter, his hand sliding up your forearm to grip your elbow. “Is someone hurting you?” His eyes narrow and his head cocks to peer under your jaw at the large, obviously male handprint.

Now that he’s close enough, he sees redness on your scalp, thin spots in your hair, tiny specks of crusted blood. Someone’s been yanking you around by the hair, and he’s almost sure it’s not a consensual act.

His mind is made up then, certain that something bad is happening in your house after he’s gone, determined that he needs to stick around longer and make sure you’re okay. Some time between his afternoon watch and his early morning check in, you’re being harmed by someone much larger than you.

When he looks away from the bruise at last, feeling your perfectly painted nails dig into the muscle of his forearm, he finds tears in your eyes.

“I’m okay, Binnie, I swear.” You whisper, and your free hand reaches for the latte that he tried to give you right before he noticed your damaged throat.

He loosens his grasp on you—it wasn’t tight to begin with, but he doesn’t want you feeling trapped. Instead of helping you reach the latte, he brings his hand up and lifts some of the loose strands of your hair away from your throat.

Changbin hears your breath catch, sees the pulse racing beneath your ear, so he pulls back. He drops his palms on the counter and watches you with a frown, observing as you desperately try to collect yourself from the intimate touches he’s surprised you with.

He can’t do anything about it until he knows what’s going on, so he just matches your weak smile and clears his throat. “Don’t go letting someone hurt my best customer, alright? No, put that away, it’s on me today.” He makes a waving motion at you as you go for your billfold, and the tension escapes from your chest.

Your voice sings with light laughter. “How can I be your best customer if you keep giving me things for free?”

Changbin just nods towards your latte. “Get out of here, gorgeous. Enjoy your drink.”

“I always do, Binnie.”

It’s your brother.

There’s a definite family resemblance in the slope of your noses and the bends of your knuckles, but the similarities stop there.

It’s after dinner that he arrives—two, three times a week—bursting into your house with no regard for your privacy or boundaries, rifling through the wallet that you keep on the mail table. His voice booms through the house, calling for you, so loudly it travels across the street.

He’s the reason you start coming in with darker bruises, poorly concealed by makeup on your throat, on your wrists, under your eyes. He’s the reason more of your hair tangles in your shower drain in clumps bunched together by clotted blood. He’s the reason for the spattering of bruises across the smooth skin of your chest, the reason you’ve stopped wearing bras with underwire that press into your damaged ribs for the sake of soft and gentle sports bras.

Your brother is the reason you sit on your bed at night, pressing an ice pack to your naked thigh where a faint boot print has stiffened the flesh. He’s the reason two of your fingers are wrapped and splinted, and the reason that Changbin has watched you sell your family piano and your late father’s expensive stereo set.

All for drug money.

Threats and violence and theft from your own brother so he can meet with his dealer outside the fourth street McDonalds.

Your smiles grow heavier and Changbin’s heart pounds harder as he watches you tremble in front of him, holding your latte with both hands. The expensive stones from your jewelry collection are gone, as is the vintage watch that your grandmother gave you.

It’s getting worse.

Your brother comes by more often, he gets more desperate. He’s no longer just looking for drug money, now he’s in debt, and you don’t have the means to help him pay it back. Not that he can be convinced of that.

You stop coming to the café. Changbin knows why, he knows you don’t have the money to spend on a drink every morning—even though most times he gives it to you for free. You won’t take advantage of him, even though he tells you you don’t have to pay.

Instead, he sees you tenderly rise from bed, walking on stiff and pained legs to your closet, dragging loose clothes over your mottled skin. You haven’t stocked up on your protein powder; it’s an expensive supplement, and your bank account is drained from your brother’s latest visit. Your breakfast is the last of your frozen strawberries, blended with yogurt and honey, and you sag over your straw like you can’t hold yourself up anymore.

He sees you bend over your work with your water bottle next to you, not having the energy to take your usual gym break. Instead, you nap.

You’re drained of money, drained of strength, drained of hope.

He sees you lock your door, and then sweep up the splintered wood after your brother breaks it down. He sees you block the door with a bookshelf, and then collect all of your books off the floor after your brother shoves it aside anyway. You try everything, from nailing the door shut to setting a burglar alarm, but you just end up having to clean up shattered windows or stand silently while your brother explains to the police what a silly misunderstanding it all is.

And then one night, the one night that Changbin has to stay late to update his inventory after his weekly supply shipment at the café, there’s a knock on his apartment door. He’s fresh out of the shower, upper half bare and a towel draped over his shoulders, one end of it clutched in his hand and scrubbing the dampness from his hair, when he swings the door open and there you are.

You’re a tortured vision in white; white t-shirt and white sweatpants, your face streaked with tears and your left eye swollen from a fresh beating, and you throw yourself into his arms like you’ve known him forever.

He’s stunned, panicking, desperate to get you out of his apartment, but he’s a weak, weak man because you’re wrapped so tightly around him, your hands pressed into his back, your chest flush against his, your damp face curled into his neck, and his brain just blanks out.

The towel drops from his grasp and his arms find their way around you. Whether it’s his heart or yours that’s pounding like a jackhammer between you is unknowable, especially when he breathes in the scent of you. He knows the smell, knows it like his own home, but it’s different when it’s directly from you.

You’re weeping into his ear, trembling beneath his hands, and he’s forgotten everything he needs to hide.

“Slow down, gorgeous, I’m here.”

You crumble in his arms, sagging against his chest.

“I’m here.” His hands smooth delicately over your hair, mindful of the abrasions that you’ve suffered, and his strong arms keep you on your feet.

“I need help, Binnie.” You weep, pulling back ever so slightly. Your eyes flutter open and it’s like the entire ocean is inside them. “Please, Changbin, I—”

And then it’s too late.

Your gaze drifts over his shoulder, and there they are.

The walls are covered. Printouts, pictures, drawings. You sipping your smoothie in your kitchen, you working at your computer in your home office, you tugging a shirt over your head, the lace of his favorite red bra peeking out between the hem of the shirt and the skin of your stomach, you doing your hair in your bedroom mirror.

You.

It’s too late. He can’t get a word out before you bolt.

Gone in a second, terrified by the man you had run to for safety, disappearing into the night.

You pull all your curtains closed after that. The lights in your house are always off, a for sale sign goes up in your yard. You exist in the darkness, hiding in the shadows, suffering alone.

His heart breaks as he feels you slip further and further through his fingers.

You’re still hurting, still being hunted. Your brother keeps coming, keeps attacking you, keeps stealing from you. He’ll take the money from your house, too, Changbin already knows it.

It makes him angry.

He’s so angry, he hasn’t touched his camera in weeks. He’s so angry, he hasn’t swiped an article of clothing to hold onto the scent of you in ages. He’s so angry that your own brother has treated you so badly, that now all he does is watch.

Because you won’t be getting any more bruises.

You are so scared and tired of your brother’s treatment of you that you ran to Changbin’s apartment for the first time in your life, just to seek protection. You trusted him. You wanted his help. You knew he would protect you.

A million pictures of you aren’t worth that gift.

So he watches.

And waits.

And then, one night, just as the sun has disappeared beneath the neighborhood houses behind yours, your brother pulls up in the driveway. He stumbles out of his car, jerking with nerves, and pounds your door down, disappearing inside your home.

Each crash fills Changbin with rage. Each shatter, each groan of damaged belongings sets his blood on fire, until he’s across the street and on your porch. He finds the key where you’ve left it in the hanging pot and pushes the door open, skillfully dodging the creaky floor panels in the entryway.

The desperate grate of your brother’s voice worms into his ears like a venom, and the ensuing whimpers and cries from you settle in his stomach with painful weight. He rounds the corner and finds you there, your back pressed to the wall, your brother’s hands around your throat.

Your face is red from strangulation, your eyes wide and reddened from burst blood vessels, trails of crimson streaming from your scalp. Your brother is screaming about the money you owe him, money that he’s expected to find by some miracle after having already pilfered your paycheck earlier this week.

And then, just as your eyes begin to roll, you catch sight of Changbin. For a second, you freeze, and it’s fear in your expression as you behold the barista that you thought you knew, creeping through the shadows of your dark living room.

But then your brother’s other hand smacks against the split skin of your cheek, and your expression changes.

Changbin sees it.

You’re staring at him in relief, your mouth forming desperate pleas for help, tears spilling down your face in a sudden moment of vulnerability.

His chest clenches.

At your next whimper, he has your brother by the collar, hurling him backwards. At the thump of your feet hitting the floor, the rest of your body falling in a heap, his hands are fisted in your brother’s shirt, shoving him out of the house.

Your brother is spluttering and shouting in confusion and protest, while you’re coughing and gagging behind them.

There’s only a few seconds where your brother attempts to fight back, his wired muscles throwing stabbing punches into the dark at Changbin’s face, but he doesn’t land a single one. Instead, a deliberate blow strikes his jaw, knocking him back. Another hammers against his eye, and he sprawls in the grass, gasping for air.

You’re on your feet then, following them out of the house, standing on your porch as you watch through stinging eyes.

While your brother is stunned, Changbin turns and sees you, and he freezes. He knows he’s scared you. He knows he’s crossed every line of acceptable social interaction, and that you caught him red handed. He says your name, a whisper into the night, and your gaze shifts to him.

You’re thinking, panicking, mind no doubt tracing back through the evidence of his intrusion plastered all over his walls, the sanctity of your home utterly violated by his undetected presence.

While you try to make up your mind about it, Changbin can’t breathe.

But at this point, your brother can. “What the hell?” He gasps, breath clouding above his face. “This is none of your business, asshole.” He’s up on one knee then, cupping his face and getting his wits back.

Changbin whips around to face him, his fists once more clenched in fury. “Touch her again and I swear to god—”

“Binnie.”

Your voice is a song in his ears and his head snaps back around to you. Your hands wrap around his still tight fist, your eyes peering up at him in earnest. You’re leaning into his arm, begging for safety, and he sees the blood that spills over your lips.

You’re hurt, you need medical attention, and you’d rather be with him than with your brother.

“I’m gonna take you to the hospital, okay?” Changbin whispers, and when you nod weakly, he brings his hand to your temple. You’re hot, feverish, under his touch. “Will you let me do that, gorgeous?”

“You’re not taking her anywhere.” The voice is an inch away, and your hands grip Changbin’s bicep.

He reacts on impulse, shoving your brother away from himself, away from you, and can only watch as the larger man stumbles out onto the street, illuminated by the yellowish glow of headlights. And then it’s like that scene from Mall Cop—one minute he’s there, the next he’s been plowed out of sight like a sliding transition in a Star Wars movie.

You don’t scream.

You don’t cry.

Both of you gasping in shock at the completely unintentional turn of events, Changbin feels you press yourself into his side, your weak and bleeding arms winding around his back. He can’t believe you’re there, trusting him, clinging to him, but he holds you like you’ll disappear if he lets go.

He needs to take you to the hospital, let them figure out why you’re coughing up blood, check your bones for new breaks, but right now your face is nestled against his throat and he can’t move.

“You’re still such a creep.” Your broken voice whimpers, but your hand tightens in his shirt.

He could cry with relief. You’re not letting go. “I know,”

He gets a grumble in response. “You stole my favorite sweater.”

Not even the flashing red and blue lights speeding around the corner can take this moment from him. “I’m sorry, gorgeous. I’ll give it back.”

“Promise me you’ll burn the pictures.”

“All except the ones that incriminate your brother.”

“You swear?”

“I swear.”

Comment a request to be tagged for Hyunjin's next week!

Let me know what you thought of this one! Thank you all for reading!

tag list:

@whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @estella-novella @babyphotos0325 @softfor-svtptg @furfoxsake22 @tubelightanyaa @kayleefriedchicken @rockstarkkami @sp1derst0rrr @allenajade-ite @naraportokala @its-stayville-forever

#skz #fanfic #stray kids #horror #seo changbin #changbin #seo changbin skz #seo changbin x reader #changbin x reader #changbin fluff #changbin angst #changbin crack #crack!horror #seo changbin fluff #seo changbin angst #changbin x you #changbin crack!horror #seo changbin x you

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otherone12 · 2 days ago

Text

Wait, Are You In A Band?! (part2)

Basement!Gerard Way x Reader

-> Masterlist

A/N: Hey!! Giving more Basement!Gee for u and using the idea @fangirlinc gave me, here is part 2 of this fic! And about the requests, i've been recieved a lot requests (and thanks so fucking much for each one!), but it's going to take me a while to write them. On my masterlist, you can see the order in which they will be published. I'm also giving preference to requests! Well, I hope you like it <3

Summary: Your boyfriend is the leader sing of a band, and his band's first show, unfortunally will be in the same moment as your cheer practice. A couple lies, a stage dive, and a bit of blood, made that moment memorable.

If you didn't read the 1st part, HERE it is.

- Word Count: 3.680

- Warnings: Blood!

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…-

Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

Reader’s 1st Person POV

Since that prom, that heated kiss, that dance, that moment that seemed like we were alone on that dance floor, Gerard and I started to date.

We were by no means a conventional couple. He is a metalhead artist, with his leather jacket, black messy hair, faded band shirt, his talent and his amazing voice. And I'm a cheerleader who appreciates good music, with my high ponytail, skirt, pom poms and, just sometimes, band tees…

In the beginning, I noticed the weird looks on the corridors when we walked holding hands. I didn’t care at all, but of course Gerard wasn’t used to the attention, and got adorably flustered every time.

Now, weeks later, we’re sitting on the floor for lunch as usual, laughing and talking like we always do. The sunlight streaming through the window highlights his features, but suddenly, his laughter fades. His smile turns shy, and there’s an edge of nervousness in his voice when he speaks.

- So… I was waiting to tell you in person… - the bit of insecurity creeped his voice when he said - My band… we are gonna play next sunday for the first time! Like, it is a small festival, and they are just gonna give us a beer after… but it's a beginning, right?

- Holy shit! - I almost screamed too loud, but his words reached me like a wave - Gee this is amazing!

He didn’t respond at first, just stared at me with a shy smile, his face turning a bit red.

- You guys deserved this! You are awesome! - But my excitement was still bubbling inside of me - I can’t wait to be there, in the front row, screaming and cheering for you!

- R-really? Uh, I mean… you’d really come cheer for us? - He rubbed the back of his neck, his fingers brushing through his messy black hair.

He didn't look confused, just a bit surprised by my enthusiasm.

- Of course! - My hand ment to his shoulder, and I nodded - I’m your girlfriend, it’s like an obligation. And the least I can do is be there for you.

- I’m not used to people doing this… it’s kind of a new thing… - His awkward chuckle was the cutest thing ever - You are the best girlfriend ever… I mean, you are my first, but… uh… you know what i mean and…

- Gee, i get it. Thank you - I say, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. - You are the best boyfriend ever.

His grin widens, but before we can savor the moment, the shrill ring of the bell snaps us back to reality.

Gerard stands first, then offers me his hand, helping me up.

- See you after school? - He asked, still holding my hand.

- Sorry, Gee… I have to practice today…- I sigh, hating to disappoint him - but hey, I text you when I'm at home, okay?

- Okay… - He pouts, squeezing my hand one last time before reluctantly heading off to class.

During practice, the only thing on my mind was Gerard on stage. I could practically see him, his messy black hair falling into his eyes, his voice raw with emotion as he sang his heart out. The first of a million performances, I was sure of it. The thought made me smile, even as I tried to focus on the routine. He deserved this, being himself, doing what he loved, without caring about the jerks who liked to mess with him.

But my daydream was shattered by my coach’s sharp voice cutting through the gym like a whip.

- Well, girls, we’re going to have extra practice on sunday. - At first, I thought I was listening wrong, but she wasn’t kidding - I wanna see all of you here, no excuses.

Her words landed like a punch to my stomach.

My eyes widened, panic bubbling inside me. Sunday. Gerard’s first gig. My mind spun as I tried to piece together how I could possibly be in two places at once. There was no way I could miss his moment. I couldn’t.

Almost tripping over myself, I made a beeline for her, my thoughts racing as I fought to find the right words. My chest tightened, and I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

- Uh… coach? - I called, my voice a little too high-pitched as I approached her.

She turned, raising an eyebrow at me. I plastered on a hopeful smile, even though I felt like I was about to combust.

- I kind of have an extremely important commitment on sunday and-

- Look, this has to be perfect. You want to stay on the team, don’t you? - She was serious, I froze, nodding mechanically, my heart sinking.- Great. Then I will wait you here on sunday. Like I said, no excuses.

In desperation, I was about to start begging. I wanted to explain how much seeing my boyfriend on the stage was, and I’m not lying by saying that I’m one of the best cheerleaders of the team.

- But-

I started, but she cut me off.

- No buts. You’re dismissed.

The whistle blew, signaling the end of practice, but my world felt like it had just been flipped upside down. As the other girls filed out, chatting and laughing, I stayed rooted in place, gripping my pom-poms like they were the only things keeping me together.

I can’t be in two places at the same time, but I can pretend I have an excuse she can't argue with. The moment I stepped at home, even before texting Gerard, I sent a message to my best friend.

Me: Heyy… So, I’ll need a huge favor on sunday…

Her: HII! What u need?

Me: Me: I can’t be at practice on sunday… I need you to cover me. Say to the coach that I am sick or something.

Her: Y'know that coach isn’t dumb right?

Me: Ik but I kind of have no choice here.

Her: What is so important that will make you miss practicing and lie?!

Me: Gerard’s band is gonna be performing for the first time. I CAN’T LOSE IT!

Her: OMG! YOU TOTALLY NEED TO BE THERE!

Me: So, can I count on you?

Her: Just because I love you. But you owe me BIG TIME.

Me: Thank u! Love u 2 <3

Gerard’s 1st Person POV

I spent the next few days in a haze of nerves, unable to think about anything else. Nothing mattered except being perfect. No, absolutely perfect.

I sang the same songs over and over until the words didn’t even feel like words anymore, pacing around my room like a caged animal. My voice cracked, and every mistake sent a jolt of panic straight to my gut.

How can I not be nervous?

This is our first chance, our shot at being seen, and if I screw it up, what if we never get another one? The thought made my chest tighten, my breaths coming in shallow.

And then there was her. She’ll be there.

My stomach twisted at the thought of her standing in the crowd, watching me. Watching us. What if I mess up in front of her? What if she realizes I’m not as good as she thought I was, that I’m just some geek wannabe with a leather jacket?

I could almost see it: her face falling, the look of disappointment in her eyes. Maybe she’d finally notice all the other guys out there, guys who are cooler, more confident, better. Guys who deserve her way more than I do.

The spiral was relentless, like a storm in my head that wouldn’t let up no matter how hard I tried to shut it out. I kept telling myself, “You’re doing great. Everything’s gonna be fine.” I tried to believe it, but the words felt hollow, like they were bouncing off a wall I couldn’t break through.

“She loves you. She wouldn’t trade you for anyone, no matter how bad it gets.”

But even that wasn’t enough to stop the sinking feeling. What if I was wrong? What if I wasn’t enough for her? What if I mess it all up?

I sat down on the edge of my bed, my heart was pounding, my palms were slick with sweat, and I felt like I might throw up at any moment.

- Pull it together, Gerard, - I muttered under my breath. But my voice wavered, even to my own ears.

The show is tomorrow, and I will make this perfect. No matter what. If I have to do stage diving... that's a good idea actually.

Reader’s 1st Person POV

Finally the day arrived and I was excited, not just in a happy way of excitement, but I was afraid. Afraid that something could go wrong; afraid that my coach noticed that I was lying. My stomach was churning with that anxiety, but here I am, in front of the mirror, applying my eyeliner and getting ready to get out and meet Gerard at his house, where Mikey, Frank and Ray already were.

Didn’t take too long and I was there, too. My clothes are really different from the ones I used to wear at school. Nothing like my usual cheer uniform or the light academia outfits I wore. I was simply with one of Gerard’s faded band tees, my ripped jeans and boots.

I rang the doorbell, and in one second Gerard opened the door. I could see how nervous he was, his shoulders were tense, and his smile hides his anxiety, even if it was really noticeable.

- Hey, Gee! - Not waiting for his invitation, I hugged him tight, and his arms hung awkwardly by his side before he hugged me back. - So… today is the day, hum?

- Yeah… I-I guess so… - His voice above a whisper.

- Don’t worry… - I backed off just enough to look in his eyes, I rested my hands on his chest as his stayed hesitantly on my waist - You’re gonna be perfect.

- D-do you think so? - He furrowed, his voice shaking - I mean, what if-

- Gee, babe… I don’t think so. - I cupped his face, my thumbs brushing his cheeks - I know so.

He gave me a small smile, and I closed the space between us, kissing him, a quick pack, but enough to make his cheeks turn pink.

But the moment didn’t linger too much.

- Hey… not to interrupt the lovebirds here… - Mikey said, approaching - but we’ve got to go.

- Yeah, you are right… - Gerard blinked, snapping out of whatever trance he’d fallen into. He grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers as we headed to the car.

The drive was a blur, and before long, we arrived at the park where the festival was happening. The small stage was already buzzing with activity. Crowds of people milled about, grabbing food and beer from the stalls, while speakers blared music to set the mood. I felt Gerard’s hand squeeze mine, while he looked around, frozen in his place. His eyes wide and his breath was coughing in his throat.

- I-i don’t know if I can do this… - he muttered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the crowd. His eyes fixed to that stage - There’s so many people. And it hasn’t even started yet… I should go back home and-

- Hey… Look at me… - I stepped in front of him, holding his hands in mine. - You are amazing. I can’t think of any other guy who can rock a show like I know you can. You are so talented, and you rehearsed so many times…

His wide, panic-filled eyes met mine, and my heart squeezed at the vulnerability there.

- But what if they didn’t like it? - His voice cracked, and the raw insecurity in it broke my heart. - If all these people thought I'm a joke?

- Babe, your lyrics are fucking awesome, and you are the greatest singer i’ve ever met. - My gaze didn’t leave his, I gave him a confident smile and gripped his hands a little tighter, my voice steady but firm. - You are not a joke, Gerard. You have more passion than anyone in that crowd could ever dream of. And I’ll be here to scream for you, no matter what, okay?

He nodded, even if he was still trying to convince himself that I was right. He took a deep breath before looking back to that stage.

- I got this…

Gerard’s 1st Person POV

I will not lie here. I was about to throw up. My mind was racing and I could barely pay attention to the other bands who played before us. Before I noticed, we were all on the stage, Frank, Mikey and Ray setting their instruments as I looked for my girlfriend in the crowd. When our eyes finally met, I let out a breath that I didn't even realize that I was holding.

The stage lights were blinding, hotter than I’d expected. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. The roar of the crowd… Well, it wasn’t a huge crowd, but it was big enough to send a shiver down my spine, buzzed in my ears, mingling with the feedback of the amps.

Mikey adjusted his bass strap while Frank fiddled with his guitar. Ray did the same… all of them looked calm and collected. How were they not losing their minds right now? My hands trembled as I gripped the microphone, and I forced myself to take a deep breath. You can do this, I thought, though my stomach was flipping like I’d just swallowed a swarm of bees.

I closed my eyes, feeling the sensation of the song on my ears. And before i noticed i was singing “Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough for the Two of Us." like it was the most normal thing ever. When we played “Vampires Will Never Hurt You” I was already walking and jumping on the stage, just like I've dreamed of; like I practiced in my room; like I always imagined in the shower.

I caught glimpses of my girlfriend in the audience, her wide smile shining brighter than the stage lights. She was singing along, her hands raised high, and I swear it felt like she was holding me steady with her gaze.

And then came the moment I’d been thinking about all week.

I gripped the mic stand, leaning into it as the last notes of the previous song faded out. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

- This next song… - I paused, my voice shaking just a little as I scanned the crowd until my eyes locked on her. - This one’s for my girlfriend.

Her face lit up while the crowd erupted.

- This one’s called… - I smiled, just for her, even if everyone was staring… - ‘Demolition Lovers.’!

Frank started playing the opening riff, and the sound was enough to drown out the world. My voice was steady as I sang, but my heart felt like it was beating in sync with every word.

It was like the song had been written just for this moment. Every lyric felt sharper, more personal, and the emotions poured out of me like I was confessing something sacred. My eyes kept flicking back to her, and every time I saw her smiling, mouthing the words back at me, it was like the rest of the crowd disappeared.

By the time we hit the final note, I was a sweaty, breathless mess. The applause was loud, filling every corner of the park, and it felt like I could float off the stage.

But I wasn’t done yet.

Without thinking, I stepped forward, holding my arms out wide. Damn I felt like a real rockstar.

For a few wild seconds, I was weightless, the hands of the crowd catching me and pushing me up. The adrenaline was a roar in my ears, louder than the cheers and laughter around me. My arms flailed as I tried to stay balanced, but I was grinning so hard my cheeks hurt.

And then, bam.

Someone’s elbow smacked square into my nose, and a sharp, hot pain exploded across my face.

- Fuck! - I yelped, but my voice was drowned out by the noise. My hand flew to my face, and when I pulled it back, there was blood smeared across my fingers.

The crowd was still moving me, oblivious to my minor injury, and I had no choice but to laugh. By the time they passed me back toward the stage, my nose was still throbbing, but I was too high on adrenaline to care.

Reader’s 1st Person POV

I was almost exploding when he finished “Demolition Lovers”. I didn’t care about my cheer team, didn’t care about my coach or about how out of the team I would be if she discovered. At that point, I just knew that I was supposed to be here, not anywhere else.

I screamed, and when noticed, Gerard jumped on the crowd. I wasn't close enough to hold him, but I couldn't stop jumping and applauding while the crowd moved him like a wave.

But when he was back on the stage, something caught my attention. His nose. Was bleeding.

I don’t know what, but something in that made something inside of me shifted. I was worried, of course, I didn’t want him to get hurt. But I could help but keep staring with admiration.

I don’t know if it was his confidence up on that stage, or just the way the red of his blood looked so pretty on his pale skin. His blood was almost shining on his face, dripping and meeting his lips… his face framed in locks of hair glued with sweat around his face, fire and amusement on his eyes… Damn he is so hot.

I made my way to the backstage, passing through the crowd in an attempt to talk to him. I squeezed through the crowd and finally reached the band. The sound of clapping, shouting and laughter filled the atmosphere, both in the crowd and backstage.

- Gee! - I yelled, and he turned to face me.

Without thinking he runned to me, wrapping his arms around me.

- You did it! - I said, still hugging him - You were perfect! I’m so proud of you!

My arms still wrapped around his neck, we parted just enough to look at each other. His hands holding my waist again,

- I-i… I think I really rocked… - His smile was wide, but a bit shy - Thanks to you, cause if you didn’t encourage me, I’d probably never get to that stage.

- But… are you okay? Your nose… - I started, cupping his face.

- I’m fine… just I got elbowed - He chuckled, whipping the blood on his nose. - But it was kinda nice, right?

- Are you kidding?! You made a fucking stage dive! This was more than just nice - My eyes wide and my smile grew even more - You are a rockstar, Gee. My rockstar.

His shy smile faltered for a second, replaced by something hungrier, something that made my heart pound harder. His hands tightened on my waist, pulling me closer, and his gaze flickered down to my lips.

I didn’t give him a chance to overthink it.

Grabbing the collar of his leather jacket, I yanked him forward, crashing my lips against his. He froze for a split second, probably startled by my boldness, but then he melted into me, his arms wrapping tighter around my waist as he kissed me back with everything he had.

The taste of him was intoxicating—salty sweat, a hint of metallic blood, and something unmistakably , his lips. The blood from his nose smeared against my lips, warm and sticky, and instead of recoiling, it only spurred me on.

My fingers tangled in the lapels of his jacket, holding him as close as possible while his hands roamed my back, pulling me flush against him. The kiss was messy and desperate, teeth grazing, breaths mingling, and I couldn’t get enough.

I pulled back just enough to catch my breath, my lips brushing against his as I spoke.

- You’re bleeding all over me, - I whispered, my voice teasing, but my eyes betrayed the heat still coursing through me.

He let out a breathless laugh, his forehead resting against mine.

- Sorry… kinda messy, huh? - His cheeks were flushed, and his lips were stained with both blood and the remnants of our kiss.

- Messy suits you, - I said, my fingers tracing his jawline, smearing a little more blood in the process. I leaned in, biting his lower lip gently, and his sharp intake of breath sent a thrill down my spine.

- If I didn’t know you, I would say you’re enjoying that too much - he murmured, his voice rough and low, his hands gripping my hips like he needed to ground himself.

- Maybe I am - I replied, my lips brushing against his again.

I kissed him once more, slower this time but just as intense, savoring the way his body pressed into mine and how he clung to me like I was the only thing keeping him steady. The noise around us, cheering, laughing, the distant hum of the crowd, faded into the background. In this moment, it was just him and me, tangled together in the aftermath of his chaos.

When we finally pulled apart, his lips were swollen, his nose still dripping faintly, and he looked like he’d just stepped out of a dream, or a nightmare, depending on how you looked at it.

- You’re… unbelievable, - he muttered, his voice filled with awe, his thumb brushing over my cheek.

I smiled, breathless and exhilarated, wiping the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand and laughing when I saw the streak of red.

- Guess we’ll both need to clean up after this.

- Worth it, - He said softly, his gaze locking with mine. And in his eyes, I saw it: the fire, the vulnerability, and the overwhelming gratitude that made my chest tighten in the best way.

- Come on, rockstar, - I whispered, taking his hand. - Let’s go celebrate.

And just like that, we went out to grab a beer, and I couldn't care less about my lie.

___________________________________________

- So, that's it! Hope u liked! <3

- Tag List: @bossiestbitch @mimilovesnumetal

#gerard way #my chemical romance #mcr #gerard way x reader

23 notes · View notes

tiny-icky-whore · 2 days ago

Note

Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable or puts you in a difficult spot but I wanted to ask if it was okay. I’m turning 18 in three days and I was wondering if it was okay with you if I can use your pics to basically drain myself empty to before I’m fully an “adult” Again sorry if it makes you uncomfortable and I won’t do it if you say no! But if you decide it’s okay you don’t have to answer this ask. You could make a post being vague and saying it’s okay

i could totally just block this anon but just in case other minors slipped through the cracks or are hiding behind fake ages, i wanted to make a post responding to this ask.

my blog is NOT a safe place for minors. i don’t care if ur 18th birthday is in a month, a week, three days, or two hours, please for the love of god wait until u turn 18.

i’ve had to block multiple minors for so much as liking or reblogging my posts.

i completely understand being a minor who wants to lurk on nsfw spaces because i was one of those minors!! but the idea of any minors looking at what i post honestly makes me cringe and feel a bit sick to my stomach.

please just wait. just wait however long it takes. two hours, three days, a week, a month… just wait. i promise nsfw spaces will still be around. you won’t miss out on anything.

#no minors #minors dni #minors dnf #minors do not interact

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writingwithciara · 11 hours ago

Text

pure innocence -chris sturniolo-

summary: chris finds himself constantly dreaming about his best friend. his very innocent best friend, or so he thought

word count: 2.2k

pairing: chris sturniolo x best friend!reader; a brief moment of matt sturniolo x reader

notes: i'm still a matt girl but chris is so adorable. sorry if some things repeat. tumblr keeps deleting the start of my fics and replacing the first paragraph with a duplicate. it's crazy. w: suggestive content, onlyfans

masterlist

chris watched from across the pool as matt held y/n up on his shoulders. they were in the middle of a game of chicken against nick and madi.

the longer he watched, the harder it was getting for him.

it was his fault though. she had asked for him to be her partner but he declined the offer and matt volunteered instead.

matt’s grip tightened as y/n and madi kept trying to knock each other down. y/n struggled but managed to make nick stumble back a little. she looked down at matt and he nodded in approval as she reached out and pushed madi off nick’s shoulders.

“we are undefeated!” she cheered as matt helped her get off his shoulder. she hugged him and chris noticed the emotion going into it. he couldn’t take it anymore.

he stood up quickly and headed for the back door.

“where you going chris?”

“bathroom.” he lied and before y/n could respond, he was disappearing into the house. y/n turned to matt.

“that was weird, right?”

“totally weird.” he shook his head. “who’s up for another round of chicken?”

➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿

chris had been lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling in his bedroom when there was a soft knock. he didn't even have to ask who it was, instantly remembering the knock pattern they had created when they were 8.

she poked her head in a few seconds later and chris sat up as she approached him.

"what was up with you earlier?"

"don't know what you're talking about." he tried to ignore it but he knew he wouldn't be getting away with it.

"out at the pool a few hours ago, you were acting weird. why?"

"wanna talk about weird? let's talk about how touchy you and matt were getting out there."

"we...we were playing chicken. and you could've been my partner but you refused. that's on you."

"after you guys won, you got a little too close. it was weird. there's clearly something going on between you. you guys have got to be hooking up."

"we are not hooking up. we hugged. that's it. why are you so annoyed by it?"

"because matt has feelings for you. isn't it obvious?"

"you're being ridiculous, christopher." y/n scoffed and shook her head. "matt doesn't have feelings for me and even if he did, what business is it of yours, hmm?"

"he told me he liked you. so before you go calling me ridiculous for telling you, maybe you should think a little."

"whatever, chris." y/n turned and grabbed the door knob. "when you're done being weird, you know where i'll be."

before chris could respond, y/n was gone. he collapsed back on his bed and sighed.

this was not how things were supposed to pan out for him.

➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿

after the day in the pool, madi and nick retreated to nick's room while y/n & matt went to his room to play video games.

"is it just me or has chris been acting really weird today?" matt was the first to speak.

"he has. and not just today either. for the past week at least." y/n sighed.

"you talked to him earlier. did he say anything?"

"he said it was weird how close you and i were getting in the pool today."

"okay he's being ridiculous." matt paused the game and looked at y/n. "why does he even care how close we got today?"

"i don't know. he didn't divulge that information to me." y/n played with her bracelet. "the only other thing he told me was that you had a crush on me. i don't believe that at all though."

“no. that’s definitely not true. you’re like a sister to me and i wouldn’t be stupid enough to jeopardize that by discovering feelings for you.” matt smiled. “chris is just being an idiot.”

“he really makes this feelings thing so hard.”

“oh my god. you like chris? since when?”

“uh......since senior prom.” y/n sighed. “dylan dumped me before the dance so i was home alone when chris showed up. he had ditched his own date to make sure i was okay. he brought over snacks and my comfort movie and i realized at that moment that i loved him.”

“wait, he ditched daniella? he had been in love with her since 7th grade & the fact he gave up a night with her to check on you should say something.”

“what are you hinting at, matthew?”

“i’m saying that i think chris has feelings for you.” matt smirked while y/n groaned and slide her hands down her face. “that’s adorable.”

“if that was true, then why won’t he just come out and say it?”

“because, as we established earlier, chris is an idiot.”

"while that is true, i really don't think he likes me that way."

"fine. don't believe me. but when am i ever wrong?" matt resumed his game, leaving y/n to think about what he said.

➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿

sometime after midnight, everyone was asleep. except for chris, who had woken up from a rather weird dream. it wasn't odd that he was dreaming about y/n. it had been happening for quite sometime now.

the weird part of his dream was that someone anonymously sent him a link to a video of his very innocent best friend. he didn't want to click on it but his curiosity got the best of him and he ended up opening the video. it was basically a sex tape. of her and matt. posted to her onlyfans page.

chris shook the thought out of his head and grabbed his phone. he had to check to see if she even had a page.

he created a fake account just to find out if she had one. and when he searched her name, it didn't come up. he was relieved but something on the screen caught his attention.

under the 'similar creators' section, he saw a profile picture where the girl in the picture had the same birthmark on her stomach that y/n had.

so naturally, he clicked on the profile just to check. when he saw her name across the top of the page, he nearly dropped his phone.

he sat up in bed and hovered over the subscribe button, hesitating. he didn't know if he wanted to see the videos. it would ruin the innocence of his best friend. but the more he thought about it, the more he realized she was never as innocent as she pretended to be. and that thought was what motivated him to hit the subscribe button.

as he scrolled through the content, chris knew it was wrong. but he paid for the videos so he should get to see them, right?

one video in particular caught his eye.

he caught a glimpse of someone with his arm covered in tattoos in the thumbnail and his mind immediately thought about matt.

"oh please tell me my dream wasn't true." chris rubbed his eyes and hit play. as it played, he knew he was screwed. his best friend had really created a video with his brother and everything about it bothered him. "how could she choose matt when i'm the one who loves her?"

it was no longer a dream and was a harsh reality that chris would have to face soon.

he put his phone back on the charger and closed his eyes. maybe he could forget all about the video if he forced himself to dream.

but that didn't work. the second his eyes were closed, all he could see were images of y/n and matt.

"screw this." he threw the blanket off his body and walked upstairs to the kitchen. he wasn't expecting to see y/n standing at the counter with a bowl of cereal in her hand. the spoon was halfway to her mouth when she noticed chris.

"what are you doing up? have you finally decided to apologize for earlier?"

"what do you mean?" chris looked at her oddly. he truly had no idea what she was talking about. as far as he was concerned, she was the one who should be apologizing. "you should be apologizing."

"me? what for?"

"you lied to me earlier."

"when did i do that?"

"when you told me you and matt weren't hooking up."

"we're not." y/n rolled her eyes. "why would you think that?"

"i found your onlyfans page."

"w-what? i have no idea what you're talking about."

"don't play dumb with me. i found your page and saw a video with you and matt. how could you lie to me?"

"it was a one time thing. hasn't happened in months. therefore, i was not lying when you asked me if i was hooking up with matt. if you had asked me if we had hooked up and i said no, that would've been lying."

"whatever. same shit." chris looked at her. "why did you choose matt?"

"oh, chrissy." y/n set her cereal down and stepped closer. "you sound a little jealous."

"s-so what if i am?" chris took a second to look at her.

"awe, baby." y/n could sense a slight nervousness to chris' words. "if you wanted me, all you had to do was ask."

and before chris could respond, y/n had disappeared into matt's room.

he needed her.

he wanted her.

but he had absolutely no idea how to go about getting her. even though she just told him all he had to do was ask, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

he wanted to keep the untainted image of his best friend as long as possible. sure it had been destroyed but chris' brain was working overtime to put her innocence back together. there was no way he wanted to imagine her as anything other than his sweet, innocent best friend.

chris went back to his room and tried to fall back asleep but he struggled. once again, every time he closed his eyes, he would picture her. and each time, she was naked. but he tried to blur out the parts he didn't want to see.

it worked at first but the longer his eyes were closed, the more her body was revealed to him.

until he couldn't handle it anymore.

he sent a simple text to y/n

i want you

and waited.

y/n replied with a voice message. her voice came out as a whisper.

about time you finally admitted it. was getting tired of thinking of you every time i went solo. but if you really want me, then maybe i should come down to your room and have you prove it to me. how's that sound, christopher owen?

there was something about the way she said his name that made him feel like he was about to lose his mind. he sent a text back telling her to hurry up and it was as if she had read his mind because as soon as he sent it, y/n was walking into his room. he sat up quickly and turned on his light.

"jesus, you're perfect."

"tell me something i don't know, chris." y/n giggled and hopped onto his bed. she stared at him for what seemed like forever before she climbed into his lap. she couldn't contain the smirk as she asked him a question she already knew the answer to. "so, you really want me, huh?"

"yeah. of course i do. i'd be lying if i said i didn't."

"is it because you saw my onlyfans page? or something else?"

"i've wanted you for a really long time. think that's why i was so upset about you and matt earlier. and i apologize for reacting that way."

"no need to apologize. matt and i are just friends. always have been and always will be." she looked into his darkened blue eyes. "we only made the video because we were bored and wanted to get the 'virgin' shit done and over with. so trust me when i say that there are absolutely no feelings for matt." she placed her hand against his cheek and smiled. "it's always been you, christopher owen."

chris wasted no more time. he grabbed her hips and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. one that grew real intense, real fast. y/n tugged on his lip with her teeth, causing a low groan to fall from chris' mouth.

"that was hot." y/n smirked and started laughing when chris flipped them around. one hand remained on her waist while the other landed beside her head. "you finally going to show me how much you want me?

"in due time. just want to take a moment to capture this image in my mind where it'll stay forever."

"i like the sound of that." y/n smirked. "but we both know this is going to happen many, many many more times."

"and i like the sound of that." chris kissed y/n's lips first. and then her neck. followed by her shoulder and her collarbone. he kissed whatever part of her body he could see. to him, she tasted sweet.

and to her, his lips felt like heaven.

chris was about to shatter his perfect vision of his innocent best friend. but he didn't care and neither did she.

there was no place else either of them wanted to be than with each other in that moment.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader

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gyoobies · 1 day ago

Text

Pairing: Lee Know x Fem Reader

Genre: fluff, smut

MINORS DNI! Go do your homework or something.

CONTAINS, Smut, slight angst, mutual pining, unprotected sex ( don't do this, always protect yourself).

<That's all I got.... Sorry, not sorry.

You had honestly never been rejected by anyone, nor had you ever really had to pursue any romantic interests. It was just always kind of your luck that whoever you were into was usually into you as well. So it was a pretty big blow to your ego when the person you were interested in this time showed up to the group camping trip with some random waitress he'd met only a few weeks prior.

"Hey, the guys noticed a couple of the single sleeper tents were damaged while they were putting them up, so you'll have to share with someone." Your best friend said as they approached you sulking at one of the picnic tables nearby. You rolled your eyes as your friend delivered the news.

"OK, well, I'll share with Felix."

"Actually, everyone is paired off already. Felix is with Hyunjin and Han because they have a bigger tent, Seungmin is with Jeongin, so that leaves you and Minho."

"Seriously? Did no one check the tents beforehand?" You said as you sighed, startling a bit when you you heard a voice respond that wasn't your friend's.

"Sorry I wasn't more thorough. I can swap with Felix since you're not happy about the setup." Minho said as he walked off.

Your friend nudged you to follow. "Don't be like that. It's getting late and for the most part, everyone has started dropping their stuff in their tents.

"Fine, but don't think I don't suspect you and Chan for this little arrangement. Why was Minho even over this way anyway?!" You whisper Yelled.

"Maybe he was looking for you." Your friend said while wiggling their eyebrows, causing you to scrunch your face as you made your way to the tent you'd be sharing with Minho.

Toeing off your shoes and dipping down to enter the tent, you notice Minho starting to put his things back into his bag. "Hey, wait, you don't have to switch. It's nothing against you, I just wasn't expecting to be sharing a tent."

'Not with me at least.' He thought to himself. Although you had only informed your friend and their boyfriend Chan about your crush on Changbin, Minho wasn't stupid. It was easy for him to see how you looked at Changbin whenever he was around because it's how he looked at you, not that you ever noticed.

"Wow, this is probably the best sleep setup I've ever seen camping. I'm jealous, and the cat pillows are adorable." You giggled.

Minho smirked, "if you like, you can sleep here, I mean, I can sleep on whatever you have and you can sleep here."

"Oh no, I couldn't, it seems like you've put a lot of effort into making it cozy, but thank you. Thanks for letting me sleep in your tent too." You said as you began to set up your sleeping bag on the opposite side of the tent.

"No need to thank me, it's my fault it turned out like this, remember. " He said with the sweetest smile, as if he wasn't lowkey shading you from the incident earlier.

The sound of the tent zipper saved you from having to apologize again.

"Hey, so yea, we're going to start a fire soon and like, don't be mad, but I kind of forgot to pack the extra blankets you brought in the car." Said an obviously nervous Chan.

"So, what I'm hearing is my friend is going to be single soon." You said as you flung your pillow at Chan, but he easily dodged it.

"Whoa relax! Good thing your aim isn't that great."

"But mine is."

Before you or Chan could register what Minho meant, the pillow had already hit it's target, Chan's face.

"Yes! That was perfect!" You said through your laughter.

"Hey, it's ok. You won't freeze, I've got more than enough to share with you."

Although you knew it was an offer for extra blankets, the way he said it made your mind wander just a bit.

"See! You're upset for nothing, Minho has got you covered...get it?! Because he's sharing his blankets with you?" Taking the death glares from both you and Minho as a hint, he decided to leave.

Once you had set up your sleeping area, you made your way over to where the fire had been started and took a seat next to your friend.

"About time you joined us."

"Whatever, move over loser."

"So, Minho is fighting your battles I hear."

"Please, can you not."

"What?! You're the one that said you thought he was attractive when I first started seeing Chris, and if I remember correctly, you wanted him before you wanted Binnie. Just saying, he's single, you're single, maybe."

"Maybe... I'd like to not be a notch on his belt, and yes, you're absolutely correct. I was interested in him in the beginning, but the guy literally has a new prospect every other week. I'll pass thanks."

With that the conversation between you and your friend about your love life ended.

A few drinks and roasted hot dogs in, you were all feeling good, and you fully understood why paying extra for the campsite a bit further way from the other sites, with its own bathhouse was necessary.

"The sex can't be good." Your friend said as they nodded in the direction of Changbin's date grinding stiffly against him.

You burst out laughing pulling your friend to their feet so the two of you could dance together.

"Let's make the boys jealous." you whispered.

Rolling your bodies together, you smirked at each other when you noticed the sudden silence around you. You were so busy dancing you didn't realize your friend was plotting against you. You felt their hand creeping up your thigh, and before you could even react, they had wrapped their arm around your waist, lifting the oversized hoodie you were sporting to reveal the barely there yoga shorts hidden underneath. You glared at them earning a giggle in response.

"Why?"

"Because you have a great ass and you should share it with the world."

"Sorry to break up a good time, but I'm getting jealous." Said Chan with the cutest pout on his face.

"Ugh fine! You can have them back now. Hater." You rolled your eyes playfully as you walked away, heading toward the cooler to grab a water before calling it a night and heading back to the tent.

About a half hour later Minho returned to find you huddled up in your sleeping bag with the extra blanket he'd given you, watching a movie on your phone. You were startled when Minho put another blanket over you.

"Minho! What are you doing?"

"It's supposed to get really cold tonight."

"Then you'll need this." You said as you tried to give him his blanket back.

"I still have more than enough to keep me warm, I promise."

There it was, that damn smile, still as breathtaking as the first day you'd met him.

"You ok?"

"Huh? Oh! Yea you're fi- I mean I'm fine." You said as you turned away quickly, thanking him for the blanket and trying to pretend like you were really into the movie you had been watching, and not dying of embarrassment on the inside.

Minho smirked to himself at the thought of you getting all starry-eyed for him. 'Maybe he still had a shot after all', he thought to himself as he settled in for the night.

You woke early the next morning, surprisingly well rested for having slept on the ground. You gathered all you needed to shower before really starting your day, being careful not to make too much noise, and wake your tent mate. You made a mental note as you stepped out into the brisk morning air after your shower to thank Chan for having the brain power to think of getting a site with a bathhouse despite his recent failures. You bounced over to the area where you had all gathered the night before and started another fire in preparation to make breakfast for everyone. Nothing spectacular just easy to fix over a campfire. Setting everything you needed out, you got to work.

"Want some help?" Came a voice still thick with sleep from behind you. Much to your surprise, it was Changbin.

"I wasn't expecting anyone else to be awake for at least another hour or so."

"Well, I guess I could always go back to sleep. "

"Oh no! It's too late now, I'm gonna put you to work." You laughed.

The two of you worked well together, laughing and playing around as you went. With an extra pair of hands helping, everything was ready in no time at all.

A comfortable chatter had set in between the two of you as you began to set out the food on the picnic tables. Changbin was always good company. It was one of the reasons you developed a crush on him in the first place.

First to arrive was was Felix, quickly followed by Han, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Jeongin.

"Mmmm, the food smells so good" Felix says, voice a few octaves lower than usual as he rested his head on your shoulder, watching you boil water for anyone that would like tea or coffee.

"Wow! And I thought your voice couldn't get any deeper." You laughed. "Go eat before it gets cold, or they eat it all."

"Coooffeeeeeee, cooooooooofeeeeeeeeee"

"I know who that is." You giggled as you turned to see your friend, who of course was walking toward you like a zombie as they continued to vocalize their desire for caffeine.

"Black, no sugar, no cream, just the way you like it."

"Blessings on you and your vibrator, may the mortor stay lively and the battery stay full." they declared as you handed them the cup.

Their humor was one of their most charming points, and you could only laugh, being used to this behavior.

"Wow, how embarrassing."

You looked up to see Changbin's +1 glaring at you.

"And why would that be embarrassing?" You questioned.

"If you're fine with the world knowing you're lonely, then I guess it's not embarrassing for you." She said with a smug look on her face as she gripped Changbin's arm.

"Who said I was using the vibrator alone?" You laughed, walking to take a seat at the table that was now filled with blushing men. Felix nudged your side with a playful smirk. "She's so annoying." he whispered.

You and Felix carried on much like usual, makingnfun of Chan and exchanging knowing looks anytine Changbin's tag along opened her mouth. Despite all the fun you were having being caty with Felix, it didn't take long for you to realize someone still hadn't showed up to eat, so you took a moment to step away and stash some food for him, knowing if you didn't, he wouldn't have a snowballs chance at getting any.

Finally finding the strength to get up, after a rough night of trying to sleep, Minho groaned realizing he had unfortunately underestimated how much he would need that extra blanket in the middle of the night. Making his way out of the tent, he began to approach the group. Taking a look around at all the tables, he noticed he was the last one to wake, so he had zero expectations that any of whatever everyone was eating was left.

"Finally, you've decided to join us!" said a disgustingly energetic Chan.

Minho offered little more than a grumble as a response, while he went to rummage through the bin that held the dry goods, settling on a couple of granola bars, he shuffled over to take a seat.

You watched as he took a seat at the far end of the table wearing a very dissatisfied pout as he looked around at the now empty plates. You watched him for only a moment before you decided to put an end to his grumpy mood.

"I think this will taste better." you said as you placed the plate of food you had stashed away in front of him with a hot cup of coffee.

The look of surprise quickly turned into a smile, accompanied by a soft "Thanks for thinking about me."

That simple statement, for reasons you weren't willing to admit, gave you butterflies.

"What kind of person would I be if forgot about you after you gave me your extra blankets?"

It was then that he decided that he could sleep through two more nights of cold if it meant getting a little more attention from you.

You thoroughly checked your camera equipment as you packed everything you'd need to take with you on your hike. You exited the tent so quickly you almost crashed face first into your tent mate, who had obviously just come from the showers based on the damp towel around his neck and the wet strands of hair that laid across his forehead.

"From the looks of that camera bag, I assume you're not going swimming with everyone else?"

"No, maybe I'll go tomorrow, but the weather right now is perfect, so I'm going to go explore and take some photos. What about you?"

"I'm not sure actually. I'm not really in the swimming mood."

"Well, you're welcome to tag along with me if you'd like."

Minho answered so quickly, you wondered if he had been hoping you'd ask him to accompany you in the first place.

"Sounds good, just give me a second to get ready." He said as he flashed that knee weakening smile.

You watched everyone excitedly getting ready to go swimming as you waited patiently at the picnic tables, a bit nervously if you were being honest, but why were you nervous in the first place? You weren't interested in him anymore, now you wasted time trying to figure out how Binnie ended up with such an annoying bitch. The minute he stepped out of the tent and began to make his way towards you, you remembered why. Minho was insanely hot, even though he was sporting a simple tee, shorts and a backwards cap, he looked absolutely edible. In all your pining over Changbin you had actually forgotten how bad you used to have it for him.

"All set!" He said as he stopped in front of you.

You gave a nod and began to lift the bag you'd packed but Minho quickly grabbed it from you.

"Let me carry it, you're letting me tag along, so the least I can do is carry your bag." He said. As he squatted to tie his shoe.

" I also saved you from starvation, don't forget that." You joked.

He looked up at you just before finishing up his double knot in his laces. "I'll never forget that." He smiled, and stood before turning to head out of the camp.

"Wow, so you two are ditching us?!" Screamed Chan while the two of you waved him off as you began to leave.

"I hope he makes a move, I'm tired of watching him steal glances at her and pouting when she runs off with Felix." Said Chan, causing your friend to giggle at his serious father like expression.

" He better! Binnie is not an option anymore, so he'd better claim her before this guy she works with gets the courage to ask her out."

"There's another guy?!

Your friend laughed at Chan's shocked expression. " Yes, but he's shy. The poor guy is a constant shade of blush pink anytime she's around him. Oh! and he's hot! Like crazy hot. Probably a sub too, she'd have fun with that I bet. Ooooo she could dress him up in a harness to show off those abs."

"Hey! Are you cheering for Minho or the hot shy sub with abs she works with?!"

"Seoho."

"What?"

"Seoho, that's his name, and of course I'm pulling for Minho! I'm just saying she won't be available forever, especially not if her hot neighbor makes a move."

"NEIGHBOR!"

Your friend just laughed. I'm kidding, both her neighbors are gay...but one is a lesbian and she is bi so..."

Before your friend could even finish their sentence Chan was already frantically texting Minho.

"Wow this place is seriously so beautiful" you said as you took photos of the wildflowers that littered the landscape. Every intricate detail of each flower holding your attention, so much so that you didn't notice the way Minho was smiling at you.

"Cute"

"Huh?"

" You, you're so excited about flowers, it's cute."

You gave a bashful smile and began taking photos.

The rest of the day went much like that, you taking photos and Minho complimenting your photography style and your little quirks.

Minho watched you fondly as you photographed a patch of flowers by a small creek, until his phone began to vibrate. He took it out of his pocket to see that it was his weather app that had sent a storm alert. He quickly opened it to see when the storm would hit, and noticed a few text messages from Chan. After getting the information he needed from the app he opened the messages Chan had sent.

"Make your move!"

"There's a hot sub with abs that wants her to dom him! Apparently really hot!"

"And shy!"

"Did you know she's bi?!"

"She has a lesbian neighbor!"

Minho just stared at his phone with a confused expression on his face, trying to decipher what he was trying to say.

"Everything ok?" You questioned as you looked at the odd expression on his face.

"Huh? Oh, yea, we should head back. I just got a weather alert that says it's going to rain in a couple hours."

You sighed, you hated that you had to cut your litte photo session short, but you quickly packed up.

"Great! Knowing our luck Chan probably didn't pack any tarps."

That statement earned a chuckle from Minho.

"You're right because I packed them." He said as he held out a hand for you.

It was unexpected but you didn't hesitate to grab hold of it, taking notice of the way your hands fit together perfectly.

"Its a bit rocky, we have to move quickly, and I don't want you to fall."

You trailed hastily behind Minho as he navigated the way back with urgency. This in no way stopped you from admiring his physique. He was on the shorter side, just a few inches taller than you, but his broad back, and toned legs were signs that he was strong. This lead you to daydream all the way back to camp about how he could probably lift you easily.

The two of you were first to arrive back at the campsite, Minho wasted no time getting the tarps out to put up.

"What should I help with?"

"Well, if you want, you can set out the tarps, ropes and stakes next to the other tents. It'll make the process faster for them if its organized already when they get back."

Nodding your head in agreement you set off to get the tarps. You worked diligently to untangle a few of the ropes, and once you'd gotten everything separated you began to lay all they would need next to each tent. Minho watched you as you moved about the campsite until he saw the pleasant expression that had been plastered on your face change to an unreadable one when you'd made it to Changbin's tent.

You hadn't meant to invade anyone's privacy, but you couldn't help but notice the box of condoms proudly on display in Changbin's tent through the slightly open entrance. You were startled out of your daze when you heard a yelp, quickly turning your attention to the direction of the sound.

Minho internally scolded himself, he was so distracted by you and trying to figure out what you saw that changed your expression, that he wasn't watching where he was going as he backed up to check his handy work on the tarp and tripped over a fallen branch. Quickly you made your way to him, worried he could be seriously hurt.

"Minho! Are your ok? Does anything hurt?"

With smiling eyes he looked up at you as you kneeled at his side. "Only my pride."

Why did he have to be so damn cute?

You grabbed his hand to help him sit up and found yourself staring directly into his eyes.

"Are you sure?" You said dropping your eyes to scan over him for any cuts or bruises.

"I promise, I'm not hurt" He said softly as he tucked his finger under your chin to guide your eyes back to his. His gaze was more than reassurance that he was ok, it was like a beacon, calling to the desires you thought you no longer had. Luckily everyone started to arrive back to the camp before you did something stupid. Quickly you stood up and held your hand out to help him up.

"We're back!" Said Chan as he made his way to begin hanging the tarp over his tent.

You sighed in annoyance at the smirk on your friend's face as they looked back and forth between you and Minho.

"Hey! We're probably going to be stuck in our tents for a while until the heaviest part of the rain passes." Minho shouted out for all to hear.

"Yea I figured. Let's make some ramen for now and campfire pizzas or something for later and grab snacks for the tents." Your friend suggested.

"do you want me to grab any specific snacks from the food tent" you asked Minho as you began to step away.

"anything is fine." He responded coyly.

You knew the moment you were alone, the questions would be neverending, so you decided to spill before they had the opportunity to ask anything. The minute you both walked into the food tent you started talking.

"I'm confused."

"Huh? About what?"

"Everything I thought I knew about Minho's personality, but I think I was wrong." You said as you avoided looking at your friend. You knew there was most likely a smug look on their face.

"Oh! Really?"

"Shut up! But he's actually really sweet, smart, and funny."

"Don't forget ridiculously fucking hot! Like wow!"

"Please, shut up."

"What? It's true!"

You sighed loudly "I know! And I don't know if it's the lack of sex, the scenery, the realization that we have a lot in common or a combination of it all, but if you had taken a little longer to come back I probably would have mounted him."

"Damn, that's hot! I don't see the issue."

"Of fucking course you don't! I like him, but I don't want to be his flavor of the week."

"Who said you would be? Maybe you're just assuming he's like that, just like you assumed you knew other parts of his personality. Now here you are having a sexually frustrated meltdown in a tent, desperately clutching cup ramen. Look, I'm not saying he's perfect, but just because he may have dated a lot, does that mean he doesn't deserve a chance to show you something different?"

You mulled over your friends words as the two of you prepared food. They weren't wrong, you wouldn't want someone to hold your past relationships against you. You also had to remind yourself that you weren't even sure if he was actually into you.

After every tarp was up and everyone had filled their tents with snacks, everyone spent the time before the rain, chatting and eating cup ramen together.

"So what did you two find when you ditched us." Said Hyunjin.

"Peace" you responded causing the group to chuckle.

Before Hyunjin could offer any snarky responses rain began to fall. You all began to scramble tossing the trash and making sure everything was secured. Before you made your way to the tent, your friend pulled you aside to remind you to be open minded.

You dipped to make your way under the tarp and found that Minho had thoughtfully brought a small plastic bin with a lid to keep your shoes in so they were sure not to get wet from the rain while sitting outside.

Once inside you found your tent mate had changed his clothes and was now relaxing among his pillows, headphones on and eyes closed. You had to admit, you were hoping that being confined to your tent would give you a little more time to get to know him better, but that didn't seem to be in the cards, so you settled into your sleeping area and decided to watch a movie. Before you could even find one that interested you, Minho had thrown a pillow and startled you.

"HEY!" You hissed.

"Sorry, I thought you had earbuds in." He laughed. "Do you wanna watch a movie with me?" He said as he made room for you next to him. "You'll have to come over here because I need to set-up on that side."

"Set-up?"

"You'll see. Just come."

You made your way over to his adorable sleeping area and tried to make yourself comfortable as you watched him set-up a mini projector that connected to his phone and a screen the he pulled from his bag.

"Wow you really camp in luxury. I'm really regretting not taking you up on your offer to swap now that I know how comfortable it is." You said through laughter.

Minho shot you wink over his shoulder.

"Well, its big enough for two if you dont mind sharing? I would offer to swap, but truthfully, I am starting to feel that fall from earlier a bit, so I kind of need the extra cushion." In that moment you mentally thanked your friend and Chan for inviting you on this camping trip.

"I can massage where it hurts if you'd like."

You noticed his ears begin to turn red before he answered, a bit shyly. "Um, it's ok, I'm not sure asking you to rub my ass is appropriate."

You quickly burried your face in the pillows to muffle your laughter. " I'm sorry, I just didn't think about the fact that it could have been anything other than your back that hurt."

You studied his features that showed all the signs of embarrassment as he continued his set-up. His ears were now a blazing red, and a slight tint of pink could be seen across his face.

"Cute." You mumbled.

Once he had everything set up, he took his place beside you so you could pick a movie together. After a couple of minutes you decided on an action movie.

Minho made himself comfortable and laid on his side, resting his head on his hand. You followed his lead, laying on your stomach and resting your head on your arms so you didn't block his view.

About thirty-five minutes in, you had to say something.

"Minho?"

"Yea?"

"This movie sucks."

He erupted into laughter. "You picked it!"

"I know!" You groaned as you rolled to your back and let out an exasperated chuckle.

"Well, we can watch something else, but you can't pick "

You immediately hit him with one of his cat pillows.

"Aww you're pouting! Cute." He cooed.

You turned your head slightly to find Minho's eyes lingering on your face.

"You say that a lot."

"Only when it's true." He said as he moved a bit closer to you.

You could feel the pull again, the attraction, the need to feel his lips on yours, but you needed to know something first.

"You know who else is really cute? That girl you're dating, with the short hair."

A smirk crept onto his face.

"Ah! Yea, she is cute, but I'm not dating her."

"Oh! Sorry. The girl that came over with the red hair about a week ago was cute too."

You felt him move a bit closer. "Hmmmm she is too, but I'm not dating her either."

"Oh! Well the gi-" before you could fish for anymore information, Minho cut you off.

"I'm not dating anyone currently. I haven't dated anyone seriously for a while. Some of the girls you see come over are there to review their dance videos so I can instruct them on what needs to be cleaned up. I have them come to our place because sometimes they aren't able to make it to the studio before the building closes. Others are dates, but you don't see them around for long because I know what I'm looking for and they weren't it. So, do you wanna know about the girl I brought over a few months ago too, orrrr?"

You were visibly embarrassed to have shamelessly questioned him about his dating life and he definitely picked up on it because once again he was laughing at your expense.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to pry."

"It's fine really. I guess now that I think about it, it probably didn't look good from the outside looking in, to see me with a different girl every week." Minho paused when he noticed you looking at him with a soft smile pulling at your lips. "What?"

You turned to stare at the ceiling of the tent before confessing. "Nothing, I'm just glad things worked out how they did. You're a lot different from how I perceived you and I may have never gotten to know you if it wasn't for this trip. You probably think I'm a lot different too huh?" You said as you turned your head to him slightly. The expression on his face was very serious as he responded with a very clear "No". You didn't know exactly how to react other than to question his response.

"No? You don't have any change in your opinion of me now that you know me better?"

"No" He said again as he shifted even closer to you. Now able to look down at your face as he spoke. "My opinion of you is the same now as it was the first day you came over and Chan introduced you as his partner's partner in crime. You're smart, confident, funny, and beautiful, you're perfect. I don't see anything different, so I don't need to change my opinion."

You we taken back by his statement at first, but decided he must be joking to get a flustered reaction out of you. "Yea, sure, whatever." you said laughing it off as you rolled your eyes, turning away from him slightly.

At that moment his phone chimed signaling a new message was waiting. Minho almost felt defeated. Did you really not believe him? Or were you pretending you didn't believe him to possibly deter him from confessing? Maybe you were still holding on to your feelings for Changbin. Again, his phone chimed, this time he opened the messages. Of course they were from Chan.

"Did you tell her yet?"

"Don't miss your chance."

"Remember she had a crush on you first, not Changbin."

He was blankly staring at Chan's messages trying to work up the nerve to really confess and prepare himself for a possible rejection. It was only when you began to get up to move away from him that he realized he had made the situation awkward by going silent.

"WAIT!" Without thinking, he pulled you back into his chest, and let out a deep breath to calm his nerves. Finally finding the courage to speak, he let everything he'd kept to himself out.

"You know how I said the girls I dated didn't last long because they weren't what I was looking for?" He pause for you to answer.

"Yea."

"I guess I phrased it wrong. I shouldn't have said they weren't what I was looking for, but they weren't who I was looking for. It doesn't take long for me to figure out when someone's not a good match for me, it also doesn't take me much time to figure out when someone is probably perfect for me, but they have eyes for someone else."

You tried to turn over so you could see his face but he held you in place.

"Please, just let me finish this while I have the nerve. I know who I want, I've known for months, and this camping trip was gonna be my last attempt to get you to notice me."

You were surprised to hear him confessing like this. You knew he likely found you attractive, but you hadn't really thought he'd have such deep hidden feelings for you.

"You're so confident and sure of yourself, I've seen women literally fall over themselves when you're around, so why were you nervous to tell me how you feel?" You questioned.

"Please don't be upset with how this is going to come out, but how am I supposed to feel when the woman I've been secretly falling for was falling for one of my best friends? Seeing you com over to have movie nights, and just hang out with him. It's not exactly a confidence booster and I didn't want to ruin anything. You both seemed to enjoy being around one another and from what I had seen in his last relationship, Bin was a good boyfriend, I thought maybe he'd probably treat you better than I could, so I decided to try to let go, but I couldn't and I don't want to anymore. Today was the best date I've had in years, and it wasn't even a real date. Wow! that sounds so pathetic, but it's true." He took another deep breath to calm his heart that felt as if it was going to beat right out of his chest.

"I think I'm going to shut up now, before I embarrass myself any more."

You sat there for a moment with his arms still wrapped around you, his forehead now pressed to your shoulder and just tried to process everything that he said.

You were wrong. So, so, so, so wrong in your assumptions about Minho. Yes, he was blunt, tough, and a bit sarcastic, but he was also sweet, attentive, funny and apparently very misunderstood by you.

"I'm sorry." Was the first thing you thought to say, but you realized when you felt his grip loosen that maybe you should have started off with something else, something less rejection sounding. You quickly turned to face him, cupping his face with both your hands you kissed him softly before continuing. "I meant I'm sorry that I made assumptions about you, I wrote you off before really getting to know you. I'm glad you decided to take a chance and try again."

Minho smiled at you sweetly before kissing you again. "Does this mean you want to try dating me?"

"Yes, but I need to know that it won't bother you knowing I had a crush on your friend?"

"I'm not going to say I won't be jealous when you interact with him sometimes, but I think I'll be ok, so long as you promise to stop eye fucking him and start eye fucking me."

You both erupted into laughter only stopping when you leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"I may have decided against trying to date you, but I never stopped eye fucking you. Besides I can do more than just eye fuck you now."

"You better be careful, teasing will get you punished." He growled.

"Hmm I do like the thought of being punished by you, but not today. Today, I'm going to be so good, gonna be the best girl to you. Lay down for me." You whispered sweetly.

Minho did as you asked, resting his upper body back against his pile of pillows. His eyes followed your movements as you removed your pants and top, revealing soft pink panties and a matching bra.

"So cute." He said with a smile.

"Oh baby, if you like my camping underwear, wait til we get back home. I have some really nice ones you'll love". You giggled.

"I want to see them all."

"I'll show you whatever you want." You said as you ran your hands up his thighs, stopping when you reached the waistband of his sweats. You looked up to find Minho watching, waiting for your next move. "Can I have permission to touch you?"

Throwing his head back he let out a low groan, he didn't know if you were just guessing or if you could read him that well already, but one thing was for sure, if you were this good at being "the best girl" for him, he couldn't wait for the day you'd be a bad girl.

"Yes, you have permission to do anything you want."

You tucked you fingers inside his waistband making sure you grab his underwear as well, before pulling them off.

"I knew such a pretty face would have an equally pretty dick to match." You said just before spitting on his dick to stroke it. You watched as he threw his head back again, enticing you with that pretty neck of his. A few more strokes and then you took him in your mouth, earning a sinful moan from Minho. If it was possible you'd spend every day with his dick shoved down your throat just to hear his soft breathy moans.

He threaded his fingers in your hair and began to gently thrust into your mouth. His moans quickly went from soft and breathy to low, sinful grunts with every thrust and you took this as a signal that he was going to cum. Soon he was just fucking your throat and all you could think about was swallowing every drop of him.

*chime*

Minho groan in annoyance letting go of your head. I have to respond or he'll just keep asking. You removed Minho's dick from your mouth briefly to respond.

"It's Chan, isn't it?"

"Yes, I'm sorry. He's been messaging me the entire time to encourage me to confess, he even messaged me while we were hiking."

"OK well, tell him you did so he'll stop interrupting." You said while trailing your finger along the length of his dick causing it to twitch.

"Baby, this is Chan he'll just have more questions."

"Fine! We'll do it this way." You huffed as you moved to grab his phone noticing the background was a photo of you in the wildflower field from earlier. You turned to to him with a questioning look, making him flustered as he reached for his phone.

"I'm sorry. I know I should have asked, but everything in that moment was perfect and I figured I could at least have that memory if you rejected me."

Your heart fluttered knowing he had sneakily taken a picture of you as a keepsake, and as badly as you wanted him before, that feeling had increased exponentially now. You straddled him moving your panties to the side to grind your wet pussy on his dick. You lifted slightly to line him up with your entrance, gasping in unison with him when you eased all the way down, filling yourself with him completely. You leaned down to kiss him and he took the chance to flip you over, positioning himself on top of you.

"Can you open wider for me?" He said as he pushed your legs further apart. "Just like that" He moaned. His slow deep strokes sent waves of tingles across your body with every thrust.

*chime*

"That's it!" You screamed as you grabbed his phone to call your biggest inconvenience since this trip began. The phone barely rang before an eager Chan could be heard. Minho slowed his thrusts so as not to give away what you were doing, but you didn't care if they heard, in fact, you called so he could hear, effectively answering any and all of his questions about how the confession went.

"Finally! how did it go? Does she feel the same?"

"Chan!"

"Oh! It's you!"

"Yes its me, and if you don't stop interrupting I will gladly choke you tomorrow."

"But where-" Chan's train of thought derailed the moment Minho picked up the pace grunting as he did and you whimpered into the phone.

"He's busy, oh fuck! Right there! Bye." You moaned.

You could hear your friend cheering in the background as you ended the call.

You always just thought sex so good it made your toes curl was just an exaggeration until now. Wrapping your legs around his waist you pulled him closer needing to feel his weight on you.

"You feel so good." He said as he took one of your legs from his waist, and hooked it over his shoulder. The new angle gave you everything you needed and it wasn't long before he groaned at how your pussy squeezed his dick, mimicking the way your hands were squeezing forearms as you came.

Breathlessly you called his name he continued to fuck you, never letting up even after the second orgasm that quickly followed your first. You whimpered when he pulled out of your dripping pussy and flipped you to your stomach.

"Ass up baby, I can stop holding off now that I've gotten two orgasms out of you."

You whimpered as you got into position, arching your back so that your ass was at the perfect angle for him to pound into you.

"Fuck" He whispered before diving in to taste you. You jolted at the unexpected feeling of his mouth on you. Why was he so good at everything?! You had to bury your face deep into the pillows to muffle your cries. Sure, your tent was further away from the other tents and the sound of the pattering rain was drowning out almost every sound as it got heavier, but the last thing you wanted was for them to hear you screaming his name and begging him to fuck you senseless. Satisfied with finally tasting you the way he had always wanted, he rose to his knees and positioned himself behind you, caressing your ass gently before sliding inside you. Minho leaned over you momentarily to nip at your shoulder as he began to thrust into you. Confident that you had adjusted to this new position he picked up his pace. Mesmerized by the way your ass jiggled every time he snapped his hips into you, he hadn't even realized his thrusts had gotten harder and faster until his final thrust that made you collapse, caused him to slip out of you just before his climax. Quickly he pumped himself to completion, groaning as he reached his release, painting your ass and thighs with his cum.

He took a moment to catch his breath and admire the sight of his pearly droplets beginning to drip down the curve of your ass, he wondered momentarily if you'd allow him to do the same to your tongue, before rummaging through one of his bags, and retrieving a towel to clean you of his mess.

Taking his place beside you, he ran his fingers up and down your back soothingly, kissing your shoulder. He gazed at you fondly as you laid there, eyes closed, head still surrounded by his mountain of pillows. He was exhausted and he was sure you'd both be asleep in no time, if you weren't already.

The next morning Minho woke first, happy to see he wasn't just dreaming. You opened your eyes as he greeted you with a kiss to your forehead.

"Good morning kitten. How do you feel?"

"I don't think I have a lower half anymore."

Minho burst into giggles. "Well, I guess that means I have to carry you the the showers."

"I can manage but you have to shower with me in case my legs betray me for last night."

"I can definitely do that, but let's rest a little more first, it's still early, it's only 6."

Wrapping the blankets around the both of you tighter, Minho held you close as you both drifted off to sleep again.

"Aren't you glad I wasn't more thorough with checking tents now?" He laughed.

Epilogue: The bonfire crackled as Changbin took another sip of his beer. It's been about two months since the camping trip and about two weeks since he called it off with the girl he'd taken on the camping trip. She was never meant to be long term, just another distraction from the heartbreak of his ex cheating on him and a way to keep you from falling for him. He knew eventually he'd want something more serious again one day, someone more compatible with him. He thought of how you were always there to cheer him up, to coax him out of whatever funk he was in and get him to hang with the group to help ease his pain after his breakup. Over time, he could feel a shift in your friendship, and it scared him. He wasn't ready to date anyone, let alone someone like you. You were ready to love, and give your all and it wouldn't be fair for him to take that from you when he just wasn't ready to give it back, especially when one of his best friends couldn't keep his eyes off you. He knew Minho had an interest in you from the day they all met you. He felt a pang of guilt as he thought about how your efforts to cheer him up got in the way of you getting to know Minho better. Sure, that didn't stop the others, especially Felix and Hyunjin from building relationships with you, but Minho's situation was a bit different. Kind of hard to show interest in someone if they're busy showering their affection on someone else. It was best for him to step aside so you two could find each other.

"Do you regret it?" Han said as he came to sit beside his friend.

Looking over to the patio where you and Minho had snuggled up on the porch swing, Changbin sighed. "Sometimes I do, but then I see how happy they are, and that's how I know I made the right choice."

#kpop fic #kpop smut #straykids x reader #stray kids fanfic #lee know x reader #lee know smut #straykids fanfic

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