#are u reading my mind be honest..
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Call Them Brothers by @wutheringmights / bordado y transfer sobre tela (2008) by Ana Teresa Barboza / הבל | hevel by @/nathanielorion / Serie: Detective Cha is Dead by dir. Kim Cheol-gyu / Serie: Tale of the Nine Tailed by dir. Nam Hyeong Jo & Kang Sin-hyo / Untitled by Liam Cushing / Angel of Grief, grave of Emelyn Story by William Wetmore Story / Serie: Arcane, Episode 7.- Pretend like it's the first time.
#couldn't finish the year without going crazy bonkers over ctb one last time#this is the first webweave where i say “i wanna do something simple” AND I DO IT. CAN I GET AN APPLAUSE#anyways. i know ctb has been haunting you bc it seems neverending#but what. 2 years-ish reading this fic? and frankie ill be so honest sometimes this fic is the only thing keeping me going#like idk. they r always living in my mind rent free is so easy to trigger the part of my brain thats obsessed w ctb#and im glad and grateful that you havent given up on this fucking thing id be heartbroken LOL#this makes it sound like i dont want it to end. i do dont worry every day im praying for you to finish this#and thats all. im rambling. is just that i remembered that u posted this all the way back in 2021#fuckin. ctb warriors#web weaving
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just remembered Artemis Fowl exists
little Irish gremlin
#artemis fowl#artemis fowl ii#fowldom#<- gonna b honest not the /most/ amazing name#/lh I'm sorry fowldom#digital painting#digital art#digital portrait#Asher art#clip studio paint#csp#no one reads these tags so I shall now say#*whispers*#trans Artemis fowl real . there is no alternative in my mind#can u tell I never draw suits lmfao#doodle#quick art
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i can admit some of my lizzietommy posts come from a place of loving lizzie as a character and perhaps letting my rose tinted view of them speak for me but it’s interesting how Lizzie says “not once have you let me in” just like Ada back in season 2. She does genuinely love him but how much of what she thinks she knows about him is her having to fill in the blanks
#which brings me to my next problem of am i just projecting hard on tommy or is this a legitimate read lmao#i don’t believe he’s intentionally not letting his closest loved ones in to be honest#I think he genuinely just. does not know how#which like. me too king#do not interpret this in any shape or form as me dunking on lizzie or their relationship lmaoo killing u with my mind etc
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VENTING IN TAGZ
#I made a new friend guys#she follows this acc actually#so hi#yk who u r#but anyway#I hope to be best friends with this person#and I want to be able#to be myself and say the things on my mind#without the fear of losing her like#Ive done many times before#because I always mess up#but I lost a friend of 4 years because I had apparently made them miserable#with all my stupid problems and#ig I just made bad choices#and now I realize I'm a danger to myself and others#when I'm very mentally unstable#and I'm not sure what to do anymore#guys#me#nobody will read this but#if u see this#new friend#to the question you asked me last night#that you told me to be honest about#the answer is no#And I'm very far from it#but I just cant admit that to you because im so scared to lose u#even tho we just now started talking#I care about you deeply#and I love u a lot
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✨darklina✨
yes. yes. yes, i do ship them.
i ship them in a "i know theyre toxic and thats why i think theyre an interesting ship" way.
idk i think the whole power imbalance, however alina grabs ahold of her powers back, then darkle sparkles is like wOAH and is lowkey a simp bcs hes been lonely for centuries rly grabs my attention.
i dont think that the darkling is a morally grey character though like im rly on the side that he IS a big baddie but thats why i like him. and thats why i like this ship. the whole light and dark themes of it all and how sometimes their dark side and light side overlap. (sorry darklina/alarkling aesthetic hits HARD... i mean, eclipse?!?!?!! hell yeah)
and then in the whole trilogy where alina fights back and becomes super sarcastic and is just so done w the darkling and their whole exchange and convos and the back and forth of their shifting power dynamics and the way alina was abt to get corrupted like idc if u dont get it. I DO. and i think its scrumptious.
(book!darklina and book!darkling u will always be famous. im so sorry for what the show did to u guys 😔✊)
#i will know peace if we can acknowledge that the darkling is bad but also that darklina is a very interesting and good ship#my thoughts are kinda messy#i have so many things to say about this ship i just dont know where to start#idk how to organize everything like cant u guys just read my mind and be done with it#anyways what im getting at is this is just the surface of how i feel abt darklina/alarkling#ive got lots of feelings#my brutally honest opinions on ships
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what’s your final production for your film class abour
SO it's gonna be set in like a vaguely futuristic/Sci fi world that's still pretty similar to our own (because I absolutely Do Not have the budget/skills/sets for a fully Sci fi setting), where the main difference is the prevalence of these AI assistants held in sunglasses. The main appeal/purpose of these assistants is their ability to learn and adapt to each person's thoughts, feelings and behaviours, aiding them in their day to day life and generally making life easier for them
The film itself follows the protagonist (who im heavily considering naming Dave just for the Homestuck/2001 reference), who is unmotivated, forgetful, and generally dissatisfied with his life. After encouragement from his family, he buys a pair of the assistant glasses and starts using them. Though at first it's fairly useful (reminding him of appointments, letting him message people back while away from his phone, etc), it quickly becomes more and more involved in his life, messaging people back, making purchases and generally acting on his behalf. Whenever it's confronted about this, it defends itself by claiming that its only doing what Dave himself would do. (Also, the assistant acting on his behalf/trying to claim his identity is represented through the way it's voice changes throughout the film- although at first it is heavily synthesised (like a TTS voice), it starts sounding more and more like Dave, until eventually they sound nearly identical - unrelated to the plot I just think it's cool)
The climax of the film comes when the assistant misunderstands a complaint from Dave about a date he had planned with his boyfriend, and the ai once again acts on his behalf and breaks up with him. Dave is furious, and theres a climactic confrontation (that let's be real is heavily inspired by the Dirk/AR confrontation), where the assistant once again claims that "I have learnt from your actions, your feelings, even your thoughts. I have only done what you yourself are capable of. In fact, I am practically you." and Dave smashes the glasses, burying them outside in a way that symbolises a return to nature (maybe. That ending idea is a holdover from my original theme of nature vs technology but I can't think of anything better so eh)
(Also extra unrelated theming stuff because god I love it:
- the lighting in the film is cold and almost desaturated, representing how lifeless the world is. It's only after Dave smashes the glasses and goes outside that the lighting becomes warmer
- characters mouths are never shown - either the shot is framed so their head isn't visible, or just their eyes (or more specifically, their shades) are. This ties into tje plot later on in the film, where the AI starts speaking in Dave's voice, and casts uncertainty on whether the humans shown are the ones speaking, or their assistant
- related to the above, Dave's full face is shown for the first time right before he takes off his glasses. This is also the first time someone's eyes are shown without the glasses on
- the theme is people's overreliance on technology, particularly algorithms because. Man I've been thinking about that a lot)
#im gonna be completely honest we were meant to be working on pre production shit and i realised i didnt have a single coherent idea yet#so i panicked and went 'okay no ones read homestuck whats a plot point i could steal from that'#and the dirk/hal dynamic was the first thing that came to mind#i wish i could make it more sympathetic to the ai because theres some really interesting nuance there but 1. its a 5 minute film#and 2. we get marked on theme and its easier to get a solid theme by going 'ai bad' yk#sorry hal love u :(#also the irony of me doing a film criticising ai and then hearing one of my classmates asking our teacher if he could use ai generated#replicas of celebrity voices in his film (???)#anyway when in doubt steal from homestuck#if anyone on the marking committee has read it id be incredibly surprised#me.txt#ask#answer#yuttikkele
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Bro did you seriously not show up on time to class on the day we were gonna discuss John Donne's "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning" and "A Nocturnal Upon St. Lucy's Day, Being the Shortest Day"
#only like six ppl showed up on time and several ppl walked in super late. one guy more than a half hour#that guy i hadn't seen in class for like a month. i dont understand#i have to be honest i am one of those ppl that can't wrap my head around being habitually late or skipping class#i know ppl have situations but like how is it not a priority#you're spending so much money to be here. and you're ok w missing the first 10 minutes of the lecture?#i know im a goody two shoes and a rule follower i know i know#i know ppl have difficult situations and i dont pretend to know who has an obstacle and who is just apathetic#but like u do see apathy all the time in colleges. and it's like. i dont understand#no one is making u go to college or be a fulltime student. or no one SHOULD be making u#u r an adult. commit to something#text post#that sounds very judgmental of me sorry#i suppose i have this perspective as a nontraditional student that if you aren't giving it your all then what's the point#i hold this standard for myself even in classes where i don't discuss metaphysical poetry btw#john donne#how could you not come on time hes so fun 2 talk about#ive been noticing other ppl chipping in to the discussions of his poems and im like 👀👀👀#im like proud. almost. bc he's my boy and he's so interested#i get why ppl act like they don't care about sir walter ralegh or thomas wyatt#i get why if u don't read poetry or understand their time period theyd bore u to death#but donne is just one of the most fascinating minds to ever wield the weapon of language#to paint on the canvas of english poetry#he can spark anyone's inspiration i think
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Every time my mum throws yet another hissy fit although I can understand she’s being stupid and I let her yap to her hearts content cause she can never quit complaining, for some reason I’m so mildly bothered that the irritation makes me angry at every other thing.
For example : the fact that so and so hasn’t responded in 51 years, fifty more people haven’t even given so much as a single darn to ask why I haven’t replied yet or use those two brain cells of theirs currently fighting for third place to realise huh, maybe she’s going through a hard time ! Maybe you know like a decent fucking human being I could leave her a little note saying she can answer whenever she feels fit enough to do so but that I care for her, and the fact that I am irate by how care and compassion is offered on a silver platter to so many yet for me I have to beg and do the most absurd and pathetic displays to achieve even the slightest speck of kindness, and if I DONT do all of that in the one in a trillion possibility of me receiving kindness for free it makes me so disgusted and afraid because why the fuck would you do that, in fact why the fuck would anyone even do that even if I gave them my whole heart and soul anyways. All I am is less than dirt by way of reason given how I have been treated, and although I’m unsure as to why I am and that I can never fully understand the reason for why I’m not worth a single thing, and why I am worthless, i understand that that’s how the world works and I ought to adapt to my role and take it because nobody will stop for me
#‘u guys have seen how fast life can be taken from you’ well I hope it comes faster bc I have been praying for the end to come#for years yet nothing#I have not only been let down by this world#but I have been let down by God so many times it’s genuinely baffling#why can’t He just kill me already#I don’t even care anymore about the method#I don’t even care if it’s the most excruciatingly painful thing#if I get ripped in half or have my organs harvested or tortured for however many days#I think I just need to go and i need to go NOW.#practically the only real consistent wish I’ve had in my life is that I am to be something important to others#someone irreplaceable#but I am not even noticed much less replaced#and how a girl could yap on about her insecurity abt her bangs and within an hour she gets heaps of comments#yet for me ? when I write odes to death every other Tuesday it’s whoopsie who gives a fuck about her I hope she dies#that’s precisely how it looks like to me#I think everyone does wish death upon me for the simple fact that nobody asks#nobody cares and nobody tries to help#actions speak louder than words and everyone’s actions are very clear to me#clearly someone throwing a pity party over themselves for fucking bangs is definitely a cause for concern yes yes ! worthy of twenty notes#within the span of a single hour 🥺🥺🥺 but of course I don’t deserve shit so that’s why nobody gaf ����↕️#dora daily#my only request is for all to be blunt and clear that I am worthless in their eyes.at least my mum reminds me often.why can’t yall do the#same. at least she is honest and not mincing her words. listen I can handle much more than anyone thinks I’m not as sensitive as everyone#makes me out to be. so freaking tell me how horrible I am tell me that I am a chore to speak to that I am a burden and weigh u all down#and that I am some infinitely unimaginable list of negative attributes and that’s all I’ll ever amount to because I would send my dearest#thanks for you being so brave and saying it to my face. rather than being a coward and a fool for hiding behind flowery words and meaningles#nothings uttered just for filler. newsflash I can read intents and in between the lines well but I am not a mind reader nor does anything#imply that I can read minds. yes I can discern intents and the smallest signals but I CANNOT read minds#why you won’t catch me hold hope that anything I make will get hype so I won’t post it on this platform and if I do I won’t tag it#and why do people always get fed up or think I’m lying or smth when I insist I’m sick like wtf. or they act like I’m lying by embodying the
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i have a fever. let's imagine pokemon world dash discourse together. (sorry i do not have darkmode.)
🤳🏻 pokestopit reblogged team-sprocket
👻 gengaydar Follow
For the last fucking time owning a gengar is NOT graverobbing. what is actually wrong with you people
#gengar #why am i even still on this site #i don't have a gengar but like. what's even going on over there #is marowak graverobbing now too??
💅 deerlinguist reblogged givemeyourstrongestpotion
👩❤️👩 lightscreend Follow
farfetch'd is like the most edible pokemon just because he comes with his own aromatics. pop that bad boy in the oven with some oran berries.... don't mind if i do
⚧ feministforcepalm Follow
@dyketraining tags pass peer review
🚣🏼♂️ magicarpaltunnel reblogged haxorsus
🐦⬛ corvikite Follow
I love to hate things and people. And when I turn out to be RIGHT and that person is a DICK? All parasocial relationships are bad and evil unless I am right about hating someone and then parasocial relationships are good actually
🪐waterbubbil Follow
We all thought about the same person let's just be honest here....
🎀 contest-winrar Follow
For me it's always going to be people who keep Pokémon without any thought as to their enrichment and needs. You do not need a fucking Arcanine, you live in a studio apartment and don't walk more than a block a day. You think you want a Gardevoir but are you okay with having an unknowable creature reading your thoughts every waking moment of the day? Even while you do... the nasty?
It drives me crazy because people see a Champion and think they have the time, energy, money, and space necessary to raise a Dragon type. Unless you have generational wealth, let me spell it out for you: you do not have the funds for a Dragon type. And yes! Charizard is on that list, guys! You can't even afford to feed yourself!
📯 jessiejustlickme Follow
local tumblr user declares the poors only get rat pokemon. maybe a bug pokémon if we are very good. we must grovel in the streets amen
🎀 contest-winrar Follow
Laugh all you want but I'm serious. I have heard of someone who is living with a MR. MIME like it's her HUSBAND!!!! That's fucking GROSS. These are creatures that TRUST us and NEED us.
Did you know that most Ponyta prefer to be in a herd? Are you going to have the space for that? Did you know that if you don't properly care for certain fire species their flame goes out? Sure, they're cute when they're small: but unless you're a rancher or a Gym Leader... I'm sorry. You're gross to me if you think otherwise. I hate people like that.
And for the record, rat and bug Pokémon are very valuable from an ecological standpoint. They hold an extremely important niche. People like you would rather they be hunted to extinction because they're pests, not pretty. It's disgusting.
🐦⬛ corvikite Follow
anybody in this thread smoke weed
#NOT THE RATS FOR THE POOR PEOPLE... GIRLLLLLL #the thing is they're not like... wrong.... #like i agree with the sentiment #my friend tried to get a slyveon just by like. playing catch a few times #.... like you do need to try.... #also fyi i have a large species so i'm biased #grovyle my baby . my man. u are costing me like so much in pokepuffs per month
👁🗨 badsol
why are we all talking about what pokemon to eat tonight lmafo
#.... obviously jigglypuff. homegirl is 90% cotton candy
🪅 feebassguitar reblogged metrognome
🫖 sinisteacher Follow
Like okay I got into science because I love to learn but the more I find out about how we've classified Pokémon types the more insane I feel. What do you mean there's no singular true indicator? What do you mean that there are several conditions which completely alter their base type?
Literally today my lab partner and I got into a very serious discussion about Luxray. That thing is a fuckking dark type!!!!! I'm sorry!!! I don't care what Bulbapedia says!!!! anyway i threw a pokeball at him and it swallowed him whole and now i'm going to jail for unlawful imprisonment of a TA
🍙 thesandwichking Follow
there's something, like, very dystopian about the idea that if u put an ugly hat on ur favorite little creature it changes like. the DNA. like. do other pokemon look at what you've done and cower? that's their friend... similar but changed... forever having known a life that is entirely alien to them...
🐳 wailordsupreme Follow
.... Are we going to ignore that OP swallowed a human into a ball???
#yes we are. #my friend loves those hats but I think they're so ugly #and stupid #if i wanted a specific type imma get that type..... #typesetting #show james
🧗♀️ backpacksandcavesnacks reblogged eevee-lotion
👑 lemmegrabmyballs Follow
ROUND 5 of 6 (see blog for more)
PLEASE REBLOG FOR VISIBILITY:
✍️ dreepydrabbles reblogged ash-hole
☠️ marrowhackoff Follow
just saw someone say writing omegaverse fanfic of your pokemon is bestiality. ma'am this is the monster fucking site. you should be grateful that it's only omegaverse.
#the things i've seen would melt your eyebrows clean off your face #..... typhlosion they could never make me hate you baby #i know that's not what's in your heart
🪽 honey-tree-skies reblogged gymcrawler
🐛 youngstirjoey Follow
Okay say what you will. But shorts really are comfy and easy to wear
🛀🏽 intimidatecutsyourattack Follow
Sorry bud. But. Investing at 3 notes
🐛 youngstirjoey Follow
don't do this to me. i h avue a wife . and chi ld
#anyway. sorry. it's 1:30 in the morning and the Vibes possessed me.#pokemon#dash simulator#i don't have mobile i hope it still looks good lol#this took me like 3 hours#slightly edited to account for a glitch in spacing
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GOODNIGHT N GO
18+ / mdi
summary: having always seen minghao from afar, you always considered him unattainable, with him never interacting with you while his friends brought you around. unbeknownst to you, he had similar thoughts about you, constantly keeping his distance, thinking you must've been interested in his members instead. luckily for you, you had two very meddling friends, too fed up with your mutual idiocy.
content: idol!minghao x hybeidol!reader, reader is mingyu and seokmin's bestie, afab reader, reader is implied to be a 97 liner but its not a huge plot point, acquaintances to lovers, very adorable crushes, assume minghao is a little shier and less social than he seems irl pls, reader is mentioned to have some family troubles, minghao literally courts reader aaahh he's too cute, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation (kind of), dry humping, mentions of pregnancy, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 9.3k
a/n: this is one of my works im least proud of so pls have that in mind as u read<//3
masterlist | patreon
"C'mon, one more drink."
"Yeah, you can't leave yet, it's too early."
"I have a shoot early tomorrow. I can't be hungover for it," you said for the nth time in the past five minutes.
Currently, you were situated in Seventeen's dorm rooms in the Hybe building.
It wasn't too common for groups to stay within the building, seeing as most people had their own individual apartments or homes outside of the premises, but Seventeen would often frequent their own dorms for hanging out purposes, only ever spending the night if they were too tired to make it home.
As per usual, you were hanging out with Mingyu and Seokmin, with Wonwoo and Seungkwan having decided to also make an appearance. It was quite usual for them to keep you around after work (and even to occasionally steal you during working hours). As expected, the overly extroverted 97 liners of the group had taken you under their wing early after your debut, debuting you as a the only female member of the friend group.
Along with you, there were guys from other groups who had also been blessed with a birthday within the year 1997. This, of course, included Xu Minghao, though he was mostly an honorary member, as he mostly kept to himself and never actually joined in with the group. Even after years of being best friends with multiple members of the Seventeen, you were yet to really get to know Minghao. The man remained a mystery to most of those around him.
This was quite unfortunate to you, seeing as you'd developed a bit of an unrequited interest in the guy. There was something about his calm and confident aura that drew you in. Unlike most of his other members, he had a tendency to keep to himself and keep outside social interaction to a minimum. This had at some point caused you to hold the belief that maybe he didn't like you, but your friends had informed you time and time again that this was simply his personality. However, that didn't prevent you from wanting to seek him out (though never actually going through with it).
This was why despite your previous excuse to leave to sleep in early for tomorrow's schedule had been thrown out the window the moment you spotted certain boy with a mullet walk into the room, rubbing at his eyes as if he'd just been awoken.
"What are you guys still doing up? I thought you'd all be gone by now," mumbled the pajama-clad boy, approaching the couch Mingyu was currently leaning back on and taking a seat next to him.
Subconsciously, you straightened your posture, attempting to appear casual at his sudden appearance.
You could count the times you'd been in Minghao's proximity with one hand. Being honest, you weren't quite sure if he even knew who you were past the general knowledge of your role as an idol.
"Sorry, Hao. We forgot you were staying here tonight," apologized Seokmin as he absentmindedly handed the boy an open bottle of soju.
Minghao was joining in on the drinking, it seemed. Naturally, this caused you to comfortably snuggle into the couch and forget all thought of leaving before having that last drink you had been offered just moments prior.
In front of you was a coffee table and two boys sitting on the couch opposite; Mingyu and Minghao. Surrounding you were Wonwoo and Seungkwan, while Seokmin remained standing and leaning against the counter to your right. Despite your distance to Minghao, you had the privilege of having a seat in which you could stare at him without it seeming unnatural.
"Oh, you've met Y/N, right?", Seungkwan suddenly remembered, taking his usual role as mood-maker to make an introduction if need-be.
Minghao finally laid eyes on you for the first time, giving you a polite smile and a subtle bow of his head, "I think a few times. Hi, Nice to see you."
Returning his gesture, you responded similarly, taking your eyes off him right after and giving your attention to the large boy sitting next to him who was now speaking.
"So, staying for that last drink?", he asked you, holding out a glass for you, giving you the option to take or deny it.
"Sure. Just this one," you insisted, grabbing the glass and taking a sip. Cheers erupted from your friends at your agreement to stay, with all of them seemingly tipsy enough to get excited at such a minuscule act.
On your peripheral, you missed how Minghao continued looking your way, smiling softly to himself as he stared.
-
"Well, that's the last of them," chuckled Minghao the moment Seokmin began slouching back on the couch, clearly falling into deep slumber.
Only an hour later and all four boys had either fallen victim to their drunken state and lost to the battle to slumber, or had made their way to bed before their dignity left them.
In front if you laid a snoring Mingyu as a passed out Seokmin subconsciously attempted to cuddle into him in his sleep. Not too far earlier, the two other boys had left, leaving you and Minghao as the last standing of the night.
As the night had progressed, rearrangements were made to your sitting accommodations, resulting in Seokmin joining Minghao and Mingyu on their couch right after Seungkwan's departure, leading to a peeved out Minghao making his way onto your couch to avoid the two large men bugging him as they got progressively more drunk.
At that moment you wanted to think it might've been an excuse to sit closer to you, but you knew that was just wishful thinking. It was something that made you giddy regardless, as you now found yourself side to side with him, practically alone in the boys' dorm's living room, — ignoring the two sleeping men across you — nursing drinks as your mutual tipsiness accompanied you.
"They were never good drinkers anyway," you responded with a chuckle, resting your back against the back of the couch as Minghao followed along, head slightly turning to face you.
There was a moment of comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your current buzz. Similarly to you, Minghao had chosen to not drink much through the time he'd joined you and the guys, choosing to nurse a single drink through the night. You'd had two, but found yourself still fully lucid.
"I don't think we've ever formally met, huh?", he mused, nodding in your direction.
"A few times, but you never hang around enough for me to get a word out," you agreed.
This pulled a chuckle from him, "Sorry, despite popular belief, I'm not as much of a social butterfly as my bandmates."
"I don't think anyone could possibly be as social as those two," you gestured to the two boys sleeping across from you, "What? You don't enjoy drinking til losing your inhibitions?", you joked.
"I envy them sometimes. I mean, clearly I've been missing out on a lot," he revealed, giving you an unreadable smile.
"Yeah? Like what?"
"Haven't made too many friends in the industry so far. I keep to myself too much sometimes, I think."
"Well, you could always join us more often. The guys are always inviting you. We'd all love the company," you encouraged, offering him a smile back.
He hummed at you, "Yeah? I'll take your word for that, then," he leaned over to the coffee table in front of you, putting down both of your drinks before pouring two shots and handing one over to you.
"Here," he clinked with you, "To my new friend," he gave you a confident yet appreciative smile, taking his shot afterwards.
"Oh? Okay, then. Sure," you followed along and took your shot, giggling at how easily he turned up his charm, "So, friends, huh?", you asked after you'd both downed your shots.
He shrugged, "Maybe we'll be the best of them, who knows."
After that night with Minghao, — which was spent drinking and reminiscing on your own personal memories with the two idiots you liked to call your best friends — you began to see him more frequently. You didn't get to know each other too much that night, being far too tipsy and sleepy to make it past an hour of alone time with him. However, his frequent presence helped you grow accustomed to him. It was nice to see the contrast between him and Seokmin and Gyu.
The two of you still didn't talk too much, usually sticking to comfortable silences more than anything else. His company was still always welcome, and very much encouraged by the three of you. Seokmin and Mingyu never questioned his sudden desire to begin taking them up on their offers to hang out, simply accepting his newfound presence as a gift.
You hoped that your crush on the boy wasn't too obvious, but as of now, you were pretty sure you were in the clear. Had those two known of your crush, they would've already ambushed you with a million questions about it. There was also the fact that you didn't want to get in the way of what Minghao clearly wanted to be a friendship and nothing more. Sure, he was very courteous to you, but nothing he ever did or said ever gave you any signal that he meant for your interactions to be anything but platonic.
Any outing between you and Minghao was always crowded with your two other friends. Even if any part of you wanted to act out on your crush, it was practically impossible due to their constant presence. The dynamic you'd quickly formed had been nice, though, as it usually consisted of Seokmin and Mingyu as a duo while you and Minghao stuck to one another. Your calm and introverted demeanors went very well together.
Walking side by side during any outing whilst your two friends led the way, too lost in their own shenanigans, you and Minghao smiled softly to yourselves at the other's company. No words were needed as you enjoyed the breeze of the night. You knew all to well that there'd be news articles on your outing, — yet another sighting of the 97's of SEVENTEEN with Y/G/N's Y/N — but it was such a common occurrence that no one truly paid any mind to it anymore.
"Hey, how about we rent a karaoke room to end the night?", Seokmin had suddenly halted his movements, causing Mingyu to bump into him at his abrupt stop.
Turning to face everyone, he looked around to see who agreed with his proposition. You'd already spent most of the afternoon at a restaurant nearby and walked through the streets of a populated clubbing area, so karaoke was not too out of the question in the context of the night.
Mingyu expressed his enthusiastic agreement, turning to you to see if you were down for it too. You noticed Minghao's eyes on you too, giving you an encouraging smile that let you know that he was interested in hearing your response before giving his own.
"How about we head back home and do karaoke there? There's probably already a ton of pictures of us hanging out today," you reasoned, not wanting to end the night just yet but also taking in mind your role as an idol.
Mingyu boo'd at you, "That's boring! I don't wanna go home yet," he pouted, clearly demonstrating how tipsy he currently was.
Seokmin agreed, "We can buy those fruity drinks you like at the norebang, c'mon," he insisted, "Myungho, what do you think? You've never tagged along to the norebang with us, I'll pay," he offered, tugging at Minghao childishly.
Minghao turned to look at you, "Be gentlemen," he scolded, walking over to your side to face them, "If she wants to head home then we head home," he affirmed, rolling his eyes at his friends' exaggerated groans of complaint.
"Thank you, Hao," you nodded at him with a smile, sticking your tongue out childishly at the other two boys.
Seokmin headed over to your side to hold your hand whilst Gyu now stuck by Minghao, walking in pairs of two once more as you turned back to head over to the car you'd arrived in. Looking back, you caught Minghao's eye, also catching sight of a subtle smile thrown your way.
It took you very little to arrive to your apartment, with the two boys making their way in ahead of you as if they owned the place. You couldn't blame them, knowing they were very used to coming over quite frequently. Minghao, on the other hand, stayed behind with you, waiting for you to welcome him in. He was very cordial and reserved, something which endeared you to no end.
Entering, you lost sight of your other two friends, who were probably already situated in the large living room located upstairs, ransacking you of any alcohol and entertaining themselves with your karaoke system. Meanwhile, Minghao continued to follow your slow movements, waiting by your side as you locked the entrance door. His hands remained intertwined on his back, giving him a posture you would only really expect from royalty.
Smiling at you, he nodded silently as if to encourage you to move forward so he could follow you along the length of your home.
"Show me around? Looks like the guys are already really familiar with the place," he suggested with a smile.
"Yeah," you chuckled, "They're here a lot. Wonwoo banned any group hangouts at his and Mingyu's, and Vernon sleeps early, so we never really go to Seokmin's. I live alone and the place is pretty big, so they crash here a lot," you explained, beginning to walk into the entrance hallway, "I'll show you around. It's uselessly big. I mostly have spare rooms for leisure," you explained, walking by the various rooms of what could very well be called a mansion due to its size. Large homes like these were common amongst idols, though many of them usually shared with other members.
"It's pretty," he said as he looked around, stopping by a certain painting hanging on your wall.
"My place or the painting?", you asked, standing to his side, "Mingyu made it," you gestured to the painting.
"Yeah, it looked familiar," he nodded, eyes still on it, "You're pretty close with Gyu," he stated, though it gave you the intonation of wonder.
You nodded at him, "He was my first friend when I became an idol. I probably wouldn't have met most of my current friends if it wasn't for him. He's too outgoing for his own good," you shrugged, reminiscing on how you'd met Mingyu and consequently every other member of what came to become the 97's squad, along with most Seventeen members.
"I can relate to that," he began walking further into your home, with you following along, "He was my first friend in Seoul. Didn't care about the language barrier at all, always tried to make me feel welcome," he seemed to reminisce too.
"Yeah, that's Mingyu," you joined with a smile, "I'd say I'm equally close to Seokmin, though. You? Any favorites?", you joked.
"Hmm, those two? Not really, but like I told you, I'm interested in getting close to someone else," he subtly bumped shoulders with you as he walked, chuckling when you did it back.
"Yeah? Well, maybe I'll have to rethink my favorites also," you smiled back with suggestion in your eyes.
This came to be a common occurrence between you — silent yet comfortable smiles.
Making your way upstairs, you made a stop by a balcony located just before the living room, from which you could already hear Seokmin and Mingyu taking liberal use of through the karaoke you had installed. Sharing a laugh, you and Minghao walked over to the veranda and took in the night's breeze.
"I'm going back to China soon," he suddenly said, "We're mostly on a break for two months while Wonwoo and Jeonghan hyung go through their comeback. I'm sure the guys must've told you?"
You nodded, "Yeah, I went to visit them during rehearsals once or twice. How long will you be gone?" you couldn't help but show your disappointment.
"Sad? We barely met each other," he nudged your shoulder again, "Just two weeks. Been wanting to see my parents for a while."
"Aw, that's nice. I'm sure they must miss you," you coo'd, sniffling at the chilly weather.
"Cold? Wanna head back inside?" he asked, nodding when you shook your head in negation, "Yeah, I miss them too. Love them more than anything. It's the one downside to our career," he went on to respond to your question.
"That must be really nice. I'm glad you get to see them soon," you expressed your genuine happiness at him being able to go back to his home country. He truly seemed like the type of guy who lived and breathed for his family — at least going by how he treated the second family he found with his members.
"How about you? Gyu told me you're on rest. Visiting family any time soon?", he wondered, suddenly shoulder to shoulder with you, continuing to look forward as he leaned on the veranda.
"Uh, nope. I don't really see them often," you mumbled, "It's been a while, actually," you continued, sure your body language told on you. Minghao must've caught on to this, allowing the hand he had resting on the veranda to slide over and next to your own hand, gracing the back of your palm with his pinky.
It was such a small gesture, yet entirely too sweet for you to take in without blushing to yourself.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, letting a moment of silence pass before continuing to speak with that soft voice of his, "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but ... you're always welcome in my home. My mom would love you," he assured.
You chuckled, "Yeah? You sure? You barely met me," you teased by mirroring his earlier statement, returning his gesture and letting your fingers trace his own absentmindedly on the veranda.
"Just a hunch. If I like you, then she'd love you," he reaffirmed.
"Oh, so you like me?", you finally turned to face him, smiling teasingly.
"Thought I was clear about that," he cocked his head in mock curiosity, smiling back at you, "Gotta be more assertive, got it," he murmured mostly to himself afterward, finally disconnecting himself from the veranda and beginning to walk away, stopping to gesture you follow him.
"C'mon, they'll get too drunk if we don't go babysit them," he reminded you, holding out his hand to guide you into your own home — it was a bit ridiculous, but you could tell soft touches and stolen glances were a big thing with him, and who were you to complain?
As expected, the guys ended up staying the night, too exhausted to get themselves off your couch until the following morning. Minghao, unlike them, did not reach a drunken state that impeded him from leaving, but it was silently agreed between the two of you that you did not want him to leave, nor did he want to be deprived of your company.
While the guys stayed passed out on the couch, you offered Minghao one of your spare rooms, something which made you feel slightly excited. Sure, you weren't sharing a bed or anything like that, but you'd still be waking up to Minghao in your home, and that was a win in your book.
Waking up, you headed to the kitchen, finding all your friends gathered in the interconnected dining room as they nursed their hangovers. Minghao had taken the liberty of making tea, smiling at you as he bid you good morning.
Heading over to where he leaned against the kitchen counter, you took the cup from him with a 'thank you,' blushing to yourself when his hand made contact with your hip as you turned around to lean on the counter next to him. The contact had clearly been with the intention to prevent you from hitting yourself against the counter, but it had still been to par with the cordial and charming persona Minghao carried with him, resulting in you swooning over him yet again.
Distracting yourself, you chose to make conversation with the two boys in front of you, chuckling at how exhausted they seemed (though out of their own volition).
"Do you guys have to drink yourselves into a coma every time you come over?" you deadpanned, earning a chuckle from Minghao.
"It'd be more fun if you joined us in blacking out," groaned Mingyu, "Not fair we're the only ones singing karaoke while drunk."
"Did I hold a gun to your head and tell you to chug or you'd die? You're just a sore loser. Not my fault Hao and I beat your score cause you were too drunk to sing," you retaliated, earning a hesitant hum in agreement from Seokmin, who was still silently suffering on the table in front of you.
"Anyways, what do you guys want to do today?", Mingyu changed the subject, "Norebang? Wanna call up Kook and Jaehyun? Or we could go to that Bruno Mars concert Jihoon suggested? Thoughts? Opinions?"
"How are you not dead right now? You drank twice as much as that guy and he's practically dead?" you gaped at him, pointing at the shell of a man that Lee Seokmin seemed to become during hangovers. Meanwhile, Minghao watched you with amusement, quietly enjoying your banter with his friend.
"Hao leaves soon, so we need to take advantage of all the time we have left!" he insisted, "We start promotions almost as soon as he returns and you'll probably be off your break by then. C'mon!"
"What do you think?", you turned to Minghao, "Concert? Norebang, again? What did you wanna do?"
He shrugged, "Whatever you want, I'm down," he sipped at his tea.
Seokmin began to gain consciousness again as he joined the conversation, "Jihoonie only has three extra tickets to Bruno Mars and Nonnie is going, remember, Gyu?", he stressed toward his friend, "And we already agreed we'd go, so you two are gonna have to find something else to do," he frowned, "Sorry, Y/N."
"What do you mean? Jihoon said he had five ti- ow, fuck," Mingyu groaned halfway through his statement, wincing as he hunched over on his seat in what seemed to be pain. Looking over at Seokmin for half a second before responding, his facial expression went from annoyed to normal as he responded again, "Right, I forgot, uh, he already gave out the tickets, sorry. I forgot I already made plans with Min and Jihoon for that," he rasped.
"Yeah, Hao can probably keep you company, though, right, Hao?", interrupted Seokmin, Mingyu nodding along, "We can meet at the afterparty after the concert. Jihoonie can probably get you guys in," he suggested.
As odd as the sudden lack of insistence that you join them at the concert was, you ignored it, opting to just take advantage of the opportunity to get some alone time with Minghao. Turning to your side, you could notice the remnant of a scowl on his face directed at Mingyu, but it immediately turned into a smile as soon as he faced you.
What you didn't notice, though, were the dumb smiles exchanged by your two friends as they watched you and Minghao for the rest of the time spent in your home, often removing themselves from the conversation if it meant you and Minghao got more alone time with one another.
Having any time spent without Minghao after that was practically unheard of. Being mutually on a break of sorts, it was easy to see each other quite often. The guys always enjoyed your company, and even more so that of Minghao's due to how rare it had been for him to join them in outings prior to this, so it was common for you to find yourself near the duo (+ Minghao) a few times a week.
Although you'd sometimes be joined by other 97 liners in the industry or various other members of Seventeen, it was hard to not take notice of the way in which Minghao would gravitate to you almost immediately. He gave you his utmost attention, opening doors for you, ordering your meals for you (with surprising knowledge of your taste), texting you good morning and good night, and even insisting he and the guys drop you off at home any time you hung out.
If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was trying to show romantic interest in you. However, you had quickly caught onto Minghao's courteous behavior towards everyone in his life. This was something he had even let you in on, telling you about his upbringing and even sometimes apologizing if he appeared too formal for his age. You always encouraged him, however, letting him know how much you appreciated how much of a gentleman he was — it was a nice contrast from your brotherly dynamic with his groupmates.
Trying not to visibly swoon at every act of service Minghao did for you proved to be a feat. Sometimes you'd have to take a breather to hold yourself back from throwing yourself at him. It was pathetic, really, how into him you were within such a short time of becoming his friend. But this was something you had to keep to yourself, not wanting to ever make him uncomfortable or halt his behavior.
It only became worse with time as you spent more and more time together. Mingyu and Seokmin were quite popular amongst idols, each having various friend groups to hang out with during their time off. You were sure Minghao must've also had many friends (despite his claims otherwise — he was too likable to be friendless), but he had chosen to spend most of his time before going to China with you. Claiming your hopes were up would've been an understatement. It was impossible to not want nor hope for Minghao to make a move and explicitly ask you out, but he never did. What he did do, however, was choose you to be the last person he saw before leaving Korea for the following two weeks.
Inviting you over to his place that night, Minghao had let you know that this was his last night in Korea before heading to China for the next two weeks. After having gotten close to you for the past two months, he had decided that you'd be the best company possible for a quiet evening in before departing. You didn't have it in you to even question why he'd pick you over his own groupmates, simply happy to spend time with him with the knowledge that you wouldn't get to do so for a while.
"Sorry for the short notice," he apologized as he approached you on the couch with a glass of wine, "But we've been hanging out so much, it felt natural to ask you over."
You hummed in agreement, "Should I ask why Seokmin and Gyu weren't invited or should I ignore it and take advantage of the extra wine?", you asked as you took a sip of said wine.
"They're too loud," he groaned exaggeratedly, "You're quiet, like me. Your company's too nice to pass up while I can have it," he added, joining you in your drinking.
"You can always just call me while you're there," you reminded him, "The guys call me all the time when they're overseas."
"I will be calling you," he affirmed, "But it's different in person. I'll still miss your company," he shrugged.
"I really did become your favorite, huh?" you teased, "Beat them all for first place in just two months," you were joking, but he still nodded in affirmation, chuckling along with you.
Grabbing onto the wine bottle he had laid in front of you, you went to top him off when you realized his glass was almost empty, only to be stopped by him.
"My plane's in a few hours, I can't drink too much. Being tipsy on a plane is one of the worst feelings."
"A few hours? You said tomorrow," you gaped at him.
"Well, it's 11:38, so it technically is tomorrow," he shrugged.
You sat up straight, "Dude, you should be leaving already. Why are we even here? Should I drive you? I can call my driver, he'll be here in-"
He grabbed onto your shoulders, halting your movements, "Calm down, my manager already had all my things sent over and the airport is only like twenty minutes away," he started with a calm voice, "Sorry I called you so late, we had a short promo to do earlier today, so my day got taken up at the last minute and I really wanted to say goodbye," he explained.
"Minghao, it would've been fine if you just left, I don't want to make you late."
"I didn't want to leave with no warning. It'd be rude of me to neglect saying goodbye to someone I care about," he said in the plain and cordial way in which he always spoke, grabbing onto your hand and tracing it like he had grown a tendency of doing.
Once more, it was hard not to swoon at such a small detail — the insistence in complicating his day only to make sure he didn't somehow make you feel neglected. Most people would've settled with a simple phone call or even just contacting you incessantly he returned, but Minghao wasn't like most people.
You looked down, nodding, "Thank you. That's sweet of you to say."
"I know it's only two weeks, but I'll still miss you. It's rare for me to really get close to anyone in the industry," he explained.
You nodded in agreement, "Yeah, me too. It kind of sucks since I'll be off my break by the time you come back and we probably won't be able to hang out as much anymore," you mumbled.
"I'll still be free. I'll come to you," he reassured, "Maybe we can finally hang out without the guys getting in the way," he smiled, "Just you and me?"
There was a slight suggestion in the background of your conversation. It was somewhat clear to you that you weren't speaking of mere friendship anymore. The moment was tender and suggestive, leaving room for something more. If you were mere friends, Minghao probably wouldn't have insisted in seeing you or been as communicative as he been so far. He wanted to make sure he preserved the friendship through his absence, however short it would be.
However, this was too much to get into knowing he'd be leaving likely within the hour. Instead of getting into it, you simply nodded along, cracking another joke about how loud and all over the place your friends could be. Despite offering to go with him to drop him off at the airport, he declined, insisting his driver drop you off home before he left for his flight. With a hug goodbye, he left you there, promising to call once he arrived and expressing that he'd miss you once again.
After two months of spending almost every day together, you felt genuine sadness at his sudden absence. Maybe it was dramatic of you to feel sad over such a short period of separation, but Minghao just had that effect on people — or at least you. He had taken such a quick interest in you that made you feel like the only girl in the world. It was specially bothersome to know that you'd both be too busy to see each other by the time he came back, but you were happy he'd get to see his family after so long.
With these thoughts, you went to sleep, waking up the next morning to a call from Minghao informing you of his arrival and of how content he was to be with his family. Being the last person he saw and first he contacted made your heart soar, whilst also making you frustrated at the back and forth that had been going on between you since you met him.
You needed him to make a move soon, or else you'd grow insane.
"You know he likes you, right?", asked Mingyu quite abruptly one day.
Only five days after Minghao's absence and you found yourself hanging out with your favorite dynamic duo yet again. Any time you had off was usually spent either with your own group or with them; it was the same for Seok and Gyu, who would always seek you out if possible.
"Who?", you asked despite having certain idea of who he was talking about.
"Boo, don't play dumb, its boring," joined in Seokmin, sitting next to you on the couch whilst the three of you engaged in a somewhat intense game of Mario Kart in Mingyu's living room. Wonwoo had decided to join in this time.
"Who are we talking about?", murmured Wonwoo distractedly as he annihilated the three of you at the game.
"Minghao," they both responded at once.
"Oh, yeah, absolutely," he agreed nonchalantly.
Suddenly you fell off a cliff in the game, having your character be fished away from the precipice and placed back on the race track as you widened your eyes at the statement.
"What? You know? How would you even know?," you rasped, completely caught off guard by the sudden (yet somewhat expected) revelation. You had hoped Minghao would confess to you at some point, or even occasionally convinced yourself it was all in your head. What had been low in your list of expectations had been your friends informing you of his feelings in his absence.
"He talks about you any time you're not around," Wonwoo began with a monotonous tone as most of his attention was taken up by the game, "He never leaves home, yet he's been doing it every day since he met you, he has that dopey smile all the time now. I don't know, it's just kinda obvious," he finished, chuckling when he realized he crossed the finish line.
"If Wonwoo can tell but you can't, we have a problem," said Seokmin, groaning at his loss in the game.
"I don't know," you shrugged, completely ignoring the game now, "We're friends. I know he acts a certain way, but I think he would've already said something if he liked me like that."
"He's just shy. And he's very particular about who he lets in. The fact he keeps coming back means he must really like you," emphasized Mingyu, sitting back against the couch with you.
"We've already been trying to get you guys alone as much as possible, but you're taking too long to tie the knot," added Seokmin, followed by nods from the other too.
"So what am I supposed to do with this information? Do I ask him out or-"
You were met with a chorus of 'No!'s, making you immediately shut your mouth.
"Distance makes the heart grow fonder," quoted Wonwoo, "He'll ask you out once he's back for sure."
Mingyu nodded in agreement, "He wasn't super direct about it, but he implied to us that he would, so yeah, be ready."
The thought made your heart race. How were you supposed to speak to him again after this without becoming a mess at the thought of your crush being reciprocated? Fuck, you even went as far as to wish you'd followed him all the way to China. The two wait week for him to come back suddenly felt like too much.
Both your thoughts and conversation were interrupted by the sudden vibration of your phone, leading three sets of eyes to turn to your direction.
"Let me guess," laughed Seokmin, wiggling his eyebrows at the implication of who may be calling at that moment.
"He never calls me, yet you've known him for two months and you get a daily call," Mingyu sulked jokingly as you went to pick up, ready to leave the room so you could answer the phone, "If you don't realize he likes you, then you're dumb."
"Don't tell him we told you," rasped out Seokmin before you were out of his line of fight, earning a nod from you before you picked up and left.
Walking into the room next door, you sat on Mingyu's bed as you finally responded, "Hello?"
"You looked beautiful today, you know," were Minghao's first words in response, "Gyu sent me some pictures you guys took yesterday. God, you look breathtaking."
You were unaware that Mingyu had sent Minghao the pictures he'd taken of you the day prior in which you went clubbing, something you were yet to do with Minghao as of yet. The implication of Minghao asking Mingyu for pictures of you made you blush.
"Stop flattering me," you groaned, attempting to keep control of your voice, knowing your nosy friends likely had their ears to the door.
"What, can't I appreciate beauty? I'm kind of jealous the guys got to see you all dressed up," he mumbled with amusement in his voice.
"Well, maybe don't leave the country next time," you teased, "I'll tell the guys to take you clubbing as soon as you're back," you promised, "Then maybe you can see me in a dress."
"Oh, is that a promise?", you could hear the teasing lip bite from your end, "Nah, not really a clubbing person. How about I make you dinner? Then you have another reason to wear a dress for me," he suggested.
For him. God, he wanted you dead.
You internally groaned at how smooth he was, "I feel like I should be the one cooking you dinner. As a welcome, you know?," you suggested instead. There was something about Minghao that made you want to throw everything away just to husband him up.
"You don't have to go out of your way. I should be the one treating you, it's what's right," he argued softly, "All you have to do is meet me at my place in a pretty dress, okay? I'll take care of the rest."
"Okay, you wore me down," you whined, "Damn you, Xu, you're good at this."
"Only with you," he murmured back.
The rest of the conversation went as your talks usually did. It was filled with updates from his day to day with his family and your own occurrences with your groupmates and friends. You kept him up to date with the happenings with Seok and Gyu, knowing he was more privy to calling you than them. The unspoken suggestion of you being of his utmost interest remained there, though nothing was ever explicitly said. Even as he asked you to go over to his place, you were unsure if it was meant as romantic date or if that'd come later. It made you giddy, but also far too excited to wait.
The two weeks passed faster than expected. Minghao's absence was barely felt, specially due to how constant his communication with you remained. The good morning messages, pictures, updates and lengthy phone calls never ceased, even consistently interrupting your time hanging out with your two shared friends. Any time you were on the phone with Minghao, you'd be met with teasing looks and exaggerated kissy sounds coming from either Seokmin or Mingyu (occasionally even Wonwoo or any other member who was present at the moment).
You had been completely worn down by both Minghao and his friends. The constant back and forth was enough to make you completely defenseless to Minghao's charm, but his friends' open teasing only made you more and more certain in Minghao's feelings for you.
Today was finally the day of his return, in which you found yourself getting ready to go meet him at his place. You'd insisted in picking him up (knowing Mingyu and Seokmin would also be getting him), but Minghao insisted you stayed behind, telling you he wanted to wash himself up and cook dinner before seeing you — Mingyu would be helping with the cooking.
You were anxious yet excited as you knocked on his door, though unsure if you'd be walking into a group meeting or a one-on-one between you and Minghao.
As soon as he opened the door, he offered you a soft hug, burying his face in your neck before even speaking, "Missed you," he mumbled, humming when you parroted the words back at him.
Disconnecting from him, you blushed when his hand immediately went to your own, leading you into his apartment with ease. His thumb played with the back of your palm whilst moving towards his couch, which had two plates of what looked to be like a luxurious meal — courtesy of Mingyu's cooking.
Sensing your eyes on the food, he spoke up, "Mingyu helped me make it. It's my mom's recipe," he informed you, "I'll let you eat soon, okay? Just ... There's something else I want to show you first, wait here," he let go of your hand as you stood in the middle of the living room, leaving the room for a few moments before returning with a small box.
Walking towards you with an excited smile, he became a little shier once he made eye contact with you. Your hands went up to receive the small box from him, his fingers gracing your own as he handed it over. A slight meeting of shy gazes was shared, but both your eyes went back to the box mere seconds later.
"You got me this? Hao, you really didn't have to," you murmured, opening it and gasping lightly at its content — it was a golden necklace; a little worn, but beautiful.
"It's my mother's," he started, enveloping your hands as they held onto the necklace, "I, uhm, I told her about you, and she insisted I bring this back to you," he explained, smiling down at you as you gaped at him, surprised he'd tell his mom about someone he'd just barely met, "She said I should give it to someone special. My dad gave it to her when they first started dating and she's kept it ever since."
"What?", your eyes widened attempting to hand back the piece of jewelry, "Hao, I- I can't accept this, it must mean a lot to your mom, I-"
He chuckled, interrupting you as he enclosed the necklace in your hands, "Please, Y/N, it's fine," he murmured once securing the necklace in your hold, "Here, at least try it on," he suggested as he gestured for you to turn around, now grabbing onto the necklace himself.
You followed along wordlessly, removing any obstacle from your neck and baring it for him to secure the necklace around your neck. His nimble feelings traced the back of your neck softly, leaning down to practically breathe you in as he adjusted it to perfection. Slowly, his face approached the back of your neck, nose and lips tracing your skin silently. You could feel the breath of his touch grace against your skin, forming goosebumps in its wake.
"You're so special to me, which is why I wanted you to have this," he breathed out, "But you already know that, right? How special you are to me?", he slowly turned you around, face still semi-buried in your neck. It was impossible to make eye contact due to the close proximity between you, but you could tell his eyes were heavy as he stared down at the skin of your neck.
Just as slowly as before, he separated from you, noses practically touching as he finally looked down into your eyes. His hand went up to your chin, making sure you were facing him just like he was you.
"Hao, I-"
"Sorry I waited so long," he chuckled lightly, "I wanted to make sure you liked me back before I made a move. Wanted to make you comfortable and get to know you, but it was hard to hold back sometimes," he explained, eyes going from your eyes to your lips, "Did I already tell you how beautiful you look tonight?", he interrupted his confession with a breathless chuckle as he allowed himself to look you up and down.
"Not yet, but-"
"Sorry, you look amazing. Is it all for me? Or is this reserved for friends too?", he asked as he bit a smile back, letting it break through when he registered your confusion, "I, uh, I used to think maybe you liked Mingyu, but that's not the case right? This is mutual. The guys see it too, I think. I know I haven't been too forward, but you understand my feelings, right?", he questioned, practically breathing you in.
Your breath was heavy at the confession, eyes trapped between locking on his eyes and lips, but eventually remaining stagnant on his lips. At some point, his hands went down and hesitantly made their way to your waist, pulling your body towards his when his act met no resistance.
"Hao, I- I like you too, I thought-," you cleared your throat and tried again, "I thought maybe you only liked me ad a friend, but, fuck, you like me too? I- I need to hear you say it," you let out, shocked any words could possibly come out of your lips when your brain kept screaming at you to kiss him.
Minghao appeared to have a similar idea, choosing to let hid actions speak for him rather than his words. The minute space between you became nonexistent when he kissed you, sighing softly into your lips when your mouth instantly opened for his.
The kiss wad soft and innocent; simply a demonstration of his feelings for you. He breathed out an 'I like you; so much,' into your lips after a few moments, but no response from you was permitted as he locked lips with you once more.
Any softness or innocence left the kiss soon after. It wasn't filthy by any means, but it was unexpectedly intense. Minghao seemed to be reading into your reactions, drinking in any sighs and moans coming from your lips and acting on them by kissing you harder, by slipping his tongue in your mouth, by softly pushing you against a wall and trapping you with his touches.
"Ha-hao," you moaned out between kisses, unsure of what you even wanted to say.
"Is this okay? I'll stop, just-"
You shook your head, cutting him off with a kiss, "Don't stop. Take me to your room," those were the last coherent words to leave you that night, earning a breathless chuckle from Minghao as he held your hand and led you to his room, food completely ignored.
Once in his room, you were led to his bed, though he stopped you before you could get in it, turning you around to kiss you again. His hands went back to your waist, rubbing up and down your back almost innocently. Your hands were the ones to become braver, going from playing with his hair to the front of his dress shirt, toying at the buttons and undoing the first few.
This silent demonstration of need made Minghao's hands become bolder, going down to your ass and kneading it. It was a back and forth. Any time you did something bold, he did too, going from your unbuttoning of his shirt to him throwing off your dress. You quickly ended up in your underwear while he stood in front of you shirtless and with unbuttoned pants.
His lips finally left yours, kissing down your neck and collarbones, heavy breath fogging against your skin while his hands explored your body. Your sighs occasioned groans from him along with mumbles filled with praise.
"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he sighed as he rested his forehead on your chest, taking a moment to breathe you in. Disconnecting himself from you, he finally looked you up and down, smiling softly at you before biting his lip from preventing his smile from growing any bigger, "You're gorgeous ... You're art. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and ... and I want you so bad," his voice grew deeper by the end of his statement.
He gently pushed you down, allowing you to lay back on the bed while he knelt before you. His hands felt the expanse of your legs, mouth gluing to the side of your knee and laying a soft kiss there. Upon noticing your reaction, more kisses joined the first one, trailing up and down your thighs while you looked down at him with a pained look in your eye. He seemed troubled with what he wanted to do first, needing to touch and kiss you all over.
"Can I?" he asked when his lips came far too close to your center, eyes hooded with desire.
No words left you, just a nod, but it was enough for Minghao to push your panties aside and go to town.
With a single lick, he went from slit to clit, groaning at the first contact. No more tentative touches came after that, only a mess of his tongue and lips drowning in you as his arms held your legs to prevent the incessant grinding of your hips against his face.
He ate you out expertly, moaning liberally against you as if the pleasure was all his own. His lips trapped your clit, sucking it in while his eyes rolled back. As much as your eyes attempted to close, you couldn't stand a single second in which you didn't get to see him as he gave you pleasure.
Your first orgasm came quickly, but it never fully subsided as his lips continued to lick and suckle at you, with his fingers even joining in to open your lips up for better access for his tongue. The wet noises were too explicit for you to process, but they only added to your sensitivity. Minghao ignored any whines for him to stop, taking note of how your words contradicted your actions. — your hands kept pushing his head back in while you whined 'it's too much!' at him — Your body clearly wanted more, and Minghao seemed too pleased to provide.
"Cum again," he rasped, "Wet my face and cum," he practically demanded, "You're so beautiful when you cum."
His hips would occasionally cant against the mattress, which made your eyes roll back any time you felt it. It wasn't a conscious nor active action, seemingly only happening every so often when he was too distracted to hold back. It made your stomach cave in, only able to picture how those same hips would likely be hammering into you in just a few moments.
With only a few more seconds of exploring your cunt with his tongue, Minghao happily claimed your second orgasm, licking into you throughout the entirety of your high as he had done the previous time. This time, however, you pulled him away, silently encouraging him to make his way back to your lips and trapping him in a wet kiss.
He practically fed you your own juices, murmuring praise into your mouth as his hips began grinding into your sensitive cunt.
"You were so good for me, sweetheart."
"Tasted so good for me, fuck, taste just as beautiful as you look."
"Yeah? Too sensitive, baby? 'm sorry, angel. Couldn't help myself."
"Do you feel that? I'm- I'm gonna fuck you with that. Is that okay, beautiful? Hmm? You want it, huh?"
He took advantage of every whine and cry of his name that came after each statement, sucking into your tongue any time your mouth would open for him. His hips took no rest either, grinding directly against your swollen cunt as the zipper pressed up against you in such a painful yet pleasurable way.
Pulling away with a low chuckle at your whines in complaint, he threw off his pants and boxers, smiling down at the thirsty look in your eye upon seeing him.
"Want it, pretty?", he coo'd, bringing your hand up to his cheek and turning his face to kiss the back of your palm lovingly, "I'll give it to you, beautiful. Don't even have to do anything, just stay right there, okay, angel?", he said as he reached back to his pants, taking out a condom and wasting no time in putting it on.
He teased you no further, likely very sensitive himself after granting you two orgasms and dry humping you against his better judgment. You made him lose control, and you enjoyed it greatly despite being such a mess under him at that moment.
Entering you, he kissed you, swallowing your gasp of pleasure. He gave you a few moments before silently asking for permission to move, humping into you the moment you nodded in agreement.
As per usual, his gallantry showed once more as his hands found your own and intertwined above your head. His hips moved expertly yet at a pace that could only be described as sensual. The only time his hands left you was to remove your bra, but immediately went back to holding your hands while his lips found their way to your nipples, calling you every synonym of beautiful as he made love to you.
"Like you so much, beautiful," he breathed, his lips finding your own again, "Want to keep you all to myself. Can I? Wanna take you back home and- fuck, and introduce you to my parents," he rambled breathlessly as his hands wrapped around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer, "Wanna give you a ring and a house ... Make you a mom," he groaned at the mere mention, "Is it too soon? Just ... Like you so fucking much."
You wanted to reciprocate so badly, but your mouth would not emit any noise that wasn't an incoherent whine of his name. You opted for nodding enthusiastically, dragging your nails down his back as your orgasm approached.
Like the perfect man he was, he knew when to bring his fingers to your clit, causing your back to arch against him and rob you of the last bit of your voice that remained. You cried his name as your high arrived, gasping hiccups of pleasure that drew him into his own orgasm. Confessions of care and affection for one another were had, though no proclamations of love were made. That would come later, you were sure. Your shared words were enough for you to know the feeling was there.
He gave no time for you to move as he slipped out, throwing away his condom and tucking you next to him as he nuzzled against you whilst attempting to regain his breath. Kissed were laid against any bit of skin available to him, hands pressing you up against him.
"I'll clean you up and let you go pee in a second, just let me keep you for five minutes," he sighed with contentment.
"No complaint from me," you responded, equally in need of his affection, "We still have to talk about what you said, though," you giggled, earning a loving bite from him.
"I meant it," he mumbled, "I know it's soon, but I also know how much I like you. And I know you like me just as much," he said with certainty.
"You'll have to wait til at least the third date for further discussion about impregnating me," you joked, "But I'm not against it," you whispered the last part, earning a squeeze from him as he chuckled along with you.
"Go pee," he said when he finally separated from you, "I'll keep the bed warm for you and then I can finally give you that meal I made you."
Reluctantly, you got up, looking back at him from the bathroom door as he smiled with unfiltered happiness in his eyes.
You practically squealed with giddiness as soon as you closed the door, far too happy with today's events. Unbeknownst to you, Minghao had a similar reaction on the other side of that door.
to read short 2.3k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!
content: newbf!minghao, idol!au, hao is down bad horribly, teasing from his members, afab reader, smut, body worship, very soft!!, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 755 (teaser); 2304 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"So, how long did you guys plan this?", you asked as you mindlessly toyed with Minghao's hair, his attention likely in another dimension.
"Since the first time you guys met," responded Mingyu nonchalantly, continuing to press at the buttons of his controller and paying you almost no mind. Similarly, his gaming partners Dokyeom and Wonwoo had their focus at least 90% on the screen rather than on the conversation.
"What, so years ago? We've only really known each other for like five months," you questioned, not believing your relationship with Minghao had truly been orchestrated by the three dummies sitting one couch away from you.
"Six months and two weeks," corrected Minghao lazily, humming at your fingers running through his hair.
"He knows the exact date? God, he's whipped. Kyeom was right about setting you guys up," commented Mingyu with a chuckle.
The conversation felt entirely one-sided, though you knew your friends had developed a finessed skill at gaming whilst still giving you just enough of their attention for a conversation.
Currently, you were the main character of the conversation at hand, seeing as Seokmin had let it slip that he and the rest of your friends had designed a plan play Cupid and form a relationship between you and Minghao. You believed them to be too disorganized and impatient for such a thing, but decided to question them regardless — for entertainment if for any reason.
"Oh, so now it was Seokmin's idea?", you asked with amusement, shuffling to the side of the couch when you sensed Minghao getting up from lying on your lap. Without much effort you morphed into another comfortable position, this time with your legs on top of Minghao's as he cuddled into you, face buried in your neck to nuzzle into your skin.
Your friends had gotten used to your couple-y disposition quite quickly, only gagging at the sight occasionally but never truly bothered by it.
"Yes, ma'am," responded Seokmin in a jokingly formal manner.
"How did this come about?", you continued with the questions while Minghao continued to remain completely disengaged in the conversation, his only interest being the quiet and occasional pecks he could land against your skin.
"Well, it was obvious he liked you from the first time we brought you back to the dorms," started Seokmin, having given up on beating his friends at the game and instead leaning back against the couch to converse with you as he watched the match play in front of him, "He was a little more shy back then, so he never said anything, not even to us," he continued up until you interrupted him.
"Wait, back when?", your surprise went unnoticed by Seokmin, but not by Minghao who subconsciously tightened his arms around you, now actively listening to the conversation.
"2016? Maybe 2017?," Kyeom wondered out loud, turning to Mingyu for confirmation and receiving a hum and a nod from both him and Wonwoo, "Yeah, late 2016, I think. Anyways," he continued, "We never said anything, but we all knew. We'd always try to get you guys in the same place, but he never budged. It wasn't til a few months ago when we mentioned you might be dating someone that Minghao decided to—"
The commotion from your side of the room prevented Seokmin from continuing, followed by the landing of a pillow to his face, resulting in a whine from the boy. Unexpectedly, Minghao had gotten up, pulling you up with him and accidentally causing a remote to fall in the process.
"Seokmin, shut up!", he demanded, a shade of red you'd never seen on him invading his ears while he attempted to avoid your widened eyes.
Three sets of eyes were set on you now, with some being amused while others confused. The game was mostly forgotten as they all stared at the usually quiet and put together Minghao make a commotion as he attempted to leave.
"We have to go, come on, babe," he urged, dragging you away from the room.
"But I wanna hear the end of the story," you let out as he pulled at your arm, not truly dragging you away but still struggling to convince you to leave. Giggling, you waved your friends bye as you finally allowed him to finally lead you out of the room, giving the guys a death stare to express his displeasure with them. It wasn't genuine anger, you could tell, but it was still amusing to see him embarrassed at his years-long crush being aired out.
...
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do you believe me now? | 8
it's the morning after. spencer reid suspects you’re left with some doubts after losing your virginity to him. he has to figure out why—which is hard when you're keeping secrets.
series masterlist
this series is 18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, blood related to losing virginity (dramatized for the drama duh), super vague allusions to the BAU being hungover, mild blasphemy if anyone even cares, pondering god bc am I really a fanfic writer if I don’t get a little religious w it, emily AND hotch are here and nobody knows why pls don't pay attention to that bc we are imagining like season 11/12 spencer and I'm inconsistent w who is unit chief in this series apparently, spencer slut lore, spencer emotional wounds lore, Spencer is a traumatic situationship survivor a/n: DADDYS HOMEEEEE (me and dybmn not spencer) anyway missed these little guys and am happy to be writing for them again!! idk what my upload schedule will becoming back to this but pls lmk what u think of this part, I have no idea how you will respond but I'm being brave and ily
Friday morning Spencer comes into the office fifteen minutes late (he tried his best), in yesterday’s suit (everything in his go-bag had been too wrinkled), hair messy (no doubt from your fingers), coffee cold (he’s exhausted) and overall, in an excellent mood.
The rest of the team isn’t faring quite as well—Spencer gathers they stayed at the bar celebrating Derek’s birthday a lot later than he had. It shows through sallow skin and dark circles and the grimaces he receives on the way to his desk that are probably supposed to approximate good morning’s.
Honestly, he doesn’t mind the dull mood—he doesn’t need the teasing and the prying questions that would be sure to come if his co-workers were at peak performance and were able to put together his unusually perky demeanor and disheveled appearance. At least Prentiss doesn’t appear to be paying him any mind. She’s always the one who can read him like an open book and has no shame in doing so aloud. Echoes from years of, ‘so who was the lucky girl, last night, Reid?’ Still ring through his mind and it’s like he can feel her finger prodding at his side.
The Emily of it all makes him smile, though the rest of the memory leaves a metal tang in his mouth. Back in those days, there were sometimes a lot of girls, but even then he was consciously aware he wasn’t necessarily doing something he enjoyed. He spent a lot of time, actually, staring at his bedroom ceiling, psychoanalyzing himself. Repetition compulsion. The insatiable desire to repeat or reenact emotionally painful experiences. Maybe he thought if he could teach himself to subsist off of emotionless hookups, he could in some way heal from his experience with Elle. Though, he’s hesitant to think of it now as healing—it’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing when a few nights after she said I don’t feel the same I’m sorry he opened up his front door for her. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing every time after that. So, maybe heal isn’t the right word, when one doesn’t have the right to be injured. Or when the injuries are, in a manner of speaking, self-inflicted. At the very least he could tell himself that this time around, meaningless sex was a choice he was making for himself. Spencer hates when things just happen to him.
But you—you’re different. You were a complete surprise. At first, a cute and unexpected complication. After a few painful and short-lived attempts at real relationships, Spencer decided he was simply not to be trusted with emotional intimacy of any kind, including that which inevitably develops from physical intimacy, and would resign himself to a life of celibacy. He tried not to like you, but you were just so damn likable. Magnetic, to use a trite and perfectly honest turn of phrase. All that to say: he doesn’t regret you at all. There is no filter of putrid shame or anguish over his memories of last night.
Just you. Perfect. Starlit. Glowing softly around the edges like you’re not even real.
I love you I love you I love you. A hymn with no melody. You, always reminding him exactly why he is decidedly not a man of faith. At least, not in the typical sense of the word.
How God became the idol and not Mary is lost on him. That’s why, Spencer supposes, tapping an eraser on his desk, marriage and sex were forbidden for so many ecclesiastics. After all, if they knew what it was to love a woman, specifically to love you, he doubts they’d feel like spending much time in the pulpit. Love. Humans had that long before they had any gods. It’s primeval. It’s the most natural manifestation of devotion and worship. It will always have come first. Isn’t it a better kind of religion when a man realizes he can kneel in front of a woman rather than an altar?
A heavy hand falling on his shoulder jolts him from his theological musings—which are in all practicality useless. What’s that saying about blasphemous thinking on the FBI’s dime? Right. There isn’t one.
“I’m scared to ask,” Morgan says as Spencer jumps slightly in his chair.
“What?” He mumbles, looking up from the document he’d only sort of been reading.
Morgan just looks at him, strong brows furrowed and a ditch between them, angles his head and glances to the side as if Spencer is missing the obvious. He almost follows Derek’s eye-line. When that doesn’t work, Derek just says your name. Like your status is somehow in question.
“Did you two work things out, or not? It looked pretty bad when you guys were leaving last night.”
People often misunderstand an eidetic memory. It’s not like things can’t slip his mind—Spencer can actually be quite forgetful. It’s made worse by the fact that last night at the bar feels like months ago. For a moment, he has no idea what Derek is referring to.
“Oh. Oh! Right, we—right. Yeah, we, uh—we worked it out.” Before Derek has a chance to read his face, no doubt as incriminating as his fumbled speech and an ill-timed throat clearing, he turns back to his paperwork. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her at the bar. I appreciate that.”
It’s quiet for a moment, and Spencer’s lips twist as he can feel the incoming inappropriate comment.
“Is that the same suit you were wearing last night?” Morgan quips, his wide grin audible. Spencer can practically hear the cartoon gleam of his friend’s bleached teeth.
“No.”
“You dog.” Derek is still smiling as he claps Spencer’s shoulder again. “What did you say to her that worked so well?”
Spencer clears his throat again and tries to look extremely involved in logging onto his computer, speaking quickly as if he’s beyond disinterested and can’t wait for the exchange to be over.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m actually trying to work so if you wouldn’t mind going back to your desk that would be great.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll let you work. But I see you, pretty boy.”
Spencer tries not to blush like a teenager as he refuses to look up.
Naturally the rest of the day is a slow descent into dread and madness as all those good feelings with which Spencer had started his morning begin to harden into something much worse, chilled by your lack of response to the text he sent you earlier. Which was essentially a rehashing of the note he left on your bedside table.
Maybe it was too much. It should’ve been one or the other, but not both. He’s overwhelmed you.
Okay, so maybe this is what religion is for. A last ditch effort when you can’t talk to your girlfriend so you have to try talking to God.
But Spencer knows you, and he knows something is wrong. You wouldn’t just ice him out so blatantly if everything was okay. He catches himself glancing up toward Hotch’s window to see if the blinds are drawn, and considers faking an illness to get out of work early and go check on you. But he powers through the remaining hour and a half that he is obligated to stay at work, he bounces a pencil between his fingers, drums at his desk, and gets nothing else done. As soon as 4:59 rolls around, he’s out.
Spencer can hear shuffling on the other side of your door as he stands in the hallway. A pot clatters. The walls hum with the rush of water through the pipes to your sink. He knocks, relieved that you’re okay and at the same time struggling with that weight on his chest—something cold that leans over his shoulders and whispers into his ear—so she just didn’t want to talk to you.
Suddenly all sound from inside your unit ceases. For a few long seconds, Spencer’s confusion only grows exponentially.
“Who is it?” You finally call, voice wavering. Also odd. Usually you just open the door.
“Um… Spencer?”
“As in my boyfriend Spencer?”
He frowns, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly as he tries to decipher your sudden paranoia. “I hope so?”
The click and jingle of several locks precipitates your much-anticipated reveal.
“Come in,” you say breathlessly, more harried than usual and not giving him the tender greeting he’s selfishly become accustomed to—barely even giving him a second to look at you. But he steps inside, watching on in concern as you do up every single lock—the one on the knob, the deadbolt, even the chain. Is this really all because of his little comment last night about anyone being able to get in? He certainly hopes not. He didn’t mean to terrify you.
When you finally turn, he takes stock of your appearance. Big hoodie, pajama pants patterned in little hearts. Hair pulled back hastily. Your skin is sort of dull where you normally glow. But you’re beautiful, like always. It always aches just a little bit to look at you. Spencer’s always been like that. Going breathless at a particularly good piece of art or pretty girl. Like yourself. Mostly you.
You quickly turn to hurry back into the kitchen. “I was trying to make dinner, I—”
“Hold on,” he interrupts, stopping you with a hand on your stomach that is so non-demanding it’s really mostly a suggestion. He tries to clear his head, though you make it hard. “You didn’t talk to me all day. Not that you have to, but… I was worried.”
You glance at the floor and mumble, “I lost my phone,” with so much embarrassment he believes you’re telling the truth. “Did you, um—did you text me?”
Insecurity. Spencer knows well what it looks like on you. He softens. You weren’t ignoring him—but you’d been left in a vulnerable state without any ability to contact him or anyone. That couldn’t have been comfortable.
“Of course I did.” He pauses to observe you. Still anxious. Still prepared to run at any second. Something, and he’s not sure what, did a number on you today. Maybe it’s sheer exhaustion, maybe it was the anxiety of not having your phone. But he has to figure out what it is so he can undo it. “What? What’s wrong?”
He watches your breathing pause—watches your eyes gloss over with tears and a frown contort your features. Oh, god. He’s done something terribly wrong. It’s been thirty seconds and he’s done something wrong.
“Can we sit down? I don’t feel very good.”
“Yeah. Yeah, we can. Whatever you need.”
You cast a baleful look at him and now he has to wonder what that means. Spencer sets his bag on a pulled out dining chair and follows you to the couch where you settle on opposite sides—you’re curled up in the far corner, hugging a pillow to your chest with your legs folded in front of you. Spencer’s heart is beating fast. He doesn’t know what’s going on with you and he can’t figure it out just by looking and you don’t seem eager to tell him.
He’s exhausted all his typical ways of collecting information, and now he’s at a loss.
Eventually, the anxiety comes bubbling up.
“Please talk to me,” he pleads. And you do. Almost instantly, like he stepped on some sort of landmine.
“I know it’s my own fault for not having my phone on me and not being able to see your texts, but it really sucks that I had to find out from my creepy neighbor that you snuck out in the middle of the night without saying goodbye.”
The whiplash is so strong it’s almost a broken neck. Spencer reels, frowning deeply as he tries to process your impromptu speech, the sudden confrontation. What creepy neighbor?
“I… didn’t. I went to grab my stuff from the car around one, but I came right back. I left at 7:30. You don’t remember me saying goodbye?”
Your brow furrows, and your eyes dart over the design on the rug like you’re watching memories go by. He sees it in your eyes when you recall some hazy image of him holding your face, kissing your cheek more times than was necessary and whispering sweet things against your lips before he had to go. You shrink into the couch, clearly struggling under the combined weight of relief and embarrassment.
“I forgot. I thought… he said…”
A moment passes and it’s clear you’ve abandoned the sentence. Spencer is concerned about this shadowy male figure who put malicious untruths into your head. He slides his hand under yours and twines your fingers together. Finally, finally you meet his gaze.
“Someone made you believe I left without saying goodbye.”
And he almost wishes you weren’t looking at him as more tears pool before falling down your cheeks. You nod, and don’t make a sound.
“No, honey. I didn’t do that. I’m sorry that’s what you’ve been thinking all day.”
“I was worried that you… or that I wasn’t…”
His chest aches. You’d woken up alone, no recollection of his goodbye, and without the comfort of even a text.
“You didn’t see my note?”
The way you look at him then is heartbreaking. Eyes wide and wet and sad, lip trembling.
“You left a note?”
Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong, will.
It must’ve fallen off the bedside table, or maybe he just hadn’t positioned it obviously enough.
A lost phone, a missed note, and not even a memory of his departure. While none of these things are verifiably Spencer’s fault, he feels so, so guilty.
“I did,” Spencer says gently, scooting closer and pulling you into him, head pressed to his shoulder as you try not to cry, and he rubs your back slowly.
Your sulky words are muffled by his shirt. “I didn’t see it. What did it say?”
“A lot of very nice things about you,” he whispers. Spencer thought maybe he could get away with giving you all the sincere compliments you can’t accept face to face through a note you could read while he wasn’t around. That way you couldn’t refute them or stop him. It was a good plan.
He feels the sigh of relief leaving your body against his neck.
“I didn’t know.”
“I know. I’m sorry. That’s not… I should’ve just stayed. This is my fault.”
You keep your cheek pressed to his shoulder as you speak.
“It’s not. You have a job. A really important job. You can’t just call out whenever I want you around.”
Logically he knows you’re right, but he doesn’t always think logically around you.
“I could’ve made it work. I could’ve come in late, or the team could’ve called me if there was a case, which there wasn’t—”
“Spencer, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”
He pulls back slightly, frowning at your tone. You do look relieved, much less plagued than you’d been when he arrived minutes ago, but something heavy still weighs you down. The burden of it darkens your eyes and dulls your expression. When he cups your cheek, you glance up at him, and then away once more.
He speaks softly. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?”
Again he earns a moment of your eye contact, but it’s fleeting. He watches the words spin around your head as you try to figure out what to do with them—and then choose to remain silent.
There is in fact something you’re keeping from him.
Spencer hates to use work tactics on you, but he doesn’t speak either, hoping that you’ll feel compelled to fill the silence with the truth. Knowing how you’re not entirely comfortable with quiet.
And you try, lips parting and the sound delayed as you wrestle with something you clearly don’t know how to talk about.
“I… my neighbor,” you say, frowning like you don’t quite know why you’re speaking. “The one who told me he saw you leaving in the middle of the night. He also—he said…”
Spencer brushes hair away from your cheek with a thumb, stroking the high point in gentle passes as your words taper off. Now that he’s thinking about it, he did encounter a man in a dumpy robe standing in the courtyard and smoking a cigarette when he left you tangled in sheets and dozing contentedly to get his bag from the car. In fact, they rode back up to your floor in the elevator in mostly awkward silence. Spencer was sure his outfit told a story—shirt untucked and hastily buttoned only partway, no belt, shoes barely tied, duffel slung over his shoulder—he wasn’t really expecting to run into anyone at such an hour, to be honest, but he hadn’t particularly cared what this man thought of him, so it didn’t cross his mind again.
Now he remembers.
Long night, huh? I remember those days.
It was an inappropriate comment, but given his job he’s used to ignoring those. Mostly his mind had been preoccupied with the idea of returning to you, who gave him such a warm and sleepy welcome when he climbed carefully back into your arms several minutes later that it was like he’d never known anyone else at all.
Now he resents that he hadn’t said anything, he hates the idea that you spoke to this man and he said something to upset you and Spencer wasn’t there. Usually he tries not a judge a book by its cover (metaphorically, of course) but he’s been around enough bad men to know when he’s looking at one. Last night he hadn’t even been cognizant enough to realize they got off on the same floor.
“What did he say, angel?” Spencer whispers, incapable of being anything but soft with you at the moment. Even though he senses something a lot like a tide of preemptive anger rising in his chest, painted over with layers of anxiety and guilt. He should’ve found a way to stay with you this morning.
You sniffle and let your head fall again, forehead resting against his collar. Instinctively his hand slides to the back of your neck and even at the awkward angle he finds a way to press his lips to yours hair. “Can we talk about it later? I don’t feel good.”
If it’s making you this uncomfortable, Spencer really wants to know what passed between you and this neighbor. In fact, he’d be willing to bet a lot of your strange behavior this evening stems from something that occurred which you don’t feel comfortable telling him yet. But he manages to bite back anymore questions. He doesn’t want to make you feel interrogated.
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” he says eventually, kindly, hand tracing down the length of your back and up again. “Why don’t you feel good?”
He doesn’t miss the way you reach up to discreetly wipe your cheek. But he won’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to talk about until you’re ready, and it seems like you’re already having a rough day. Which is not what he wanted. This is so far from what he wanted for you. He’s cursing himself for how he handled this whole situation.
“Um, I just… I don’t know. I feel… bad. I’m sorry I’m being so weird.”
“You’re not being weird, honey. You had a hard day. You’re having a normal reaction to an abnormal set of circumstances.”
You sit up, sniffing and wiping your tears like you can just make the whole thing go away.
“No, I am. I am. It’s all okay now, right? So I don’t know why I feel like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He watches helplessly. “Nothing is wrong with you. We’ve… it’s been a big couple of days. Mostly good, but I think you’re probably really tired. Emotionally and physically.”
You bury your face in your hands and nod silently. He still feels like he’s shooting in the dark, but you’re not entirely comforted yet, and it’s killing him.
“Whatever you’re feeling is okay. If this is… about last night, or this morning, or something entirely different—regardless of what it’s about, you’re not going to be… in trouble with me if you’re having complicated feelings. And you can talk to me. But it doesn’t have to be right now. We don’t have to figure it out all at once, okay?”
You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, and for a moment, his words sink into silence. When you do raise your head, nodding, the evidence of your discomfort is all over your face—reddened eyes, cheeks polished with wiped tears. But you take a deep breath and try to project whatever it is you think he wants to see.
The back of your hand is soft under his thumb as he sweeps it, as if he could draw forth more information that way. People speak when they’re ready.
“Is there anything I can do?” He tries, all ramped brow and soft spoken.
You’re looking at where he’s tracing swirls on your hand as you swallow and blink the last of your tears away.
“Um… you can say no, but—do you think it would be okay for you to maybe stay again tonight?”
Spencer sucks in a breath, painfully aware that he’s about to let you down.
“I… I haven’t been home in a week. I’ve been wearing this suit for two days straight and I don’t think I would want to share a bed with me again until I shower.” He watches you wilt and lifts a hand to stroke your hair. “But I do want to spend time with you… do you maybe want to come stay with me instead? No pressure—”
“Okay. Yes. Is that okay?”
Spencer’s brow knits. You seem even more enthused about the idea of going to his apartment, like now that the opportunity has presented itself you can’t wait to get out. Maybe you have some sort of black mold problem.
“Of course. Do you wanna grab a few things and then we can go?”
“Um—I also haven’t showered today. Do you mind waiting?”
“Sure. Or you could use mine. With supervision, this time.”
Spencer is attempting to make a joke about your unplanned (and unmoderated) stay at his apartment last week after he left—but looking at your face now he’s wondering if he touched a nerve.
“Like… one at a time? Or…”
He thought maybe you’d be more comfortable around him after last night—and it’s not like he hadn’t seen you naked before then, either.
“Do you wanna do it one at a time?” He asks gently.
There’s this sparkly sort of longing in your eyes that he’s seen before, but you tamp it down like always. You’re so cautious. About everything. Even the things you’re curious about. It’s sweet and a little sad.
“I’ve never… showered with anyone.”
The corner of Spencer’s mouth twitches as he pushes hair over your shoulder. “I know. You don’t have to. We could save like 100 gallons of water depending on how long your showers typically last, but—”
“Spencer—”
“Sorry, sorry—I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not trying to pressure you. You absolutely can take your own shower. You can go first so you get the hot water.”
“No,” you laugh, and it’s like a sparkling cloud of gold has settled around you, fractals bouncing off the shine of your cheeks and eyes—the sound of your laughter, the look of it, is such beautiful relief he can’t believe how good it feels, but it fades from you quickly. “It sounds… I think I want to, I just… I don’t wanna, like… do… anything.”
For a split second your veiled language mystifies him and then he realizes what you’re trying to say without saying. Something has changed since yesterday, when you brazenly referred to it as fucking, and today, when you can’t even say sex. He’s gotten as far as it being something your creepy neighbor said. Maybe. He needs to know what.
But that’s not the topic at hand.
“We don’t have to. I didn’t mean to imply that we would do anything like that. I don’t expect anything from you.”
You swallow.
“Okay. I wasn’t sure.”
About what?
He says your name. No response.
“Can you look at me, please?”
It takes you a moment, and your head raises like you might need some oil in your hinges, but eventually you manage. Spencer hopes the way he’s rubbing your leg is comforting.
“You know I’m never, ever going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, right?”
To his horror, your answer isn’t an immediate and resounding yes. Instead you look back down and cover his hand with your own, fiddling nervously with his fingers.
Eventually, you reply, “Yeah… I know. I just thought… I’m not sure. Maybe it’s supposed to be different now.”
“It doesn’t have to be. Nothing has to be different. We’re still doing everything on your schedule, okay? And as for the next few days, at least—I think it might be a good idea to take sex off the table altogether.”
Your eyes narrow and you hesitate. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want you worrying about it. And I don’t think it would feel good for you right now. I think there are things we need to talk about, but… we’ve probably tried enough for a while, hm?”
You give him a shy nod and hum your agreement. For a moment he lets his hand linger on your leg and then pulls it back.
“Okay. Do you want my help packing a bag, or should I wait out here?”
“You can wait. It should only take a minute.” You pause, halfway up to look pensive. “Um, Spencer—do you think it would be okay if maybe I… if I stayed tonight and tomorrow? I just—I wanna get out of here, for a bit.”
He frowns but doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. Can I ask why?”
“It’s just… suffocating sometimes,” you call as you turn and hurry down the hallway to the bedroom. “Feels like my neighbors are on top of me, like they’re… breathing down my neck, half the time.”
Sure, bigger apartments exist—but it’s not like you’re in a studio. And you’ve never mentioned feeling that way before. That bad feeling is starting to come back—like you’re not telling him something he needs to know. But is it worse to let you deal with it yourself until you’re ready to talk or to force it from you?
A few minutes later you return, a duffel of your own over your shoulder and full to bursting.
“So I’m an idiot. My phone was literally in the pocket of my jeans on the floor.” You drop the bag as you bend down by the door to pull on your favorite slippers. “Oh—I think I forgot my charger, can you grab it? It’s by my bed.”
Spencer of course obliges, and is secretly pleased to be in your room again, in the light this time, so he can see better. It’s sweet. The pictures on the walls, the plants and the knickknacks and the sticky notes scrawled with messy reminders on every surface and the sweater hanging over the back of a chair—the one you’d been wearing at the cafe all those months ago—it all feels so you. He wonders why the two of you don’t spend more time here.
He lets himself linger for only a minute before remembering his task, but as he reaches down to unplug your charger, whatever dopey smile he’d been wearing evaporates. The sheets have been stripped from your bed, and he can see why—there’s a striking stain of dried blood, and several surrounding dots, soaked into the mattress. Not much, but enough to make him feel horrendously guilty. He cringes, imagining what it must’ve been like to wake up all alone to nothing but your own blood. Poor girl. Of course he’d noticed some, last night when he was doing his best at cleaning you up, but it had been dark, and he was exhausted, and he hadn’t done enough.
“Where’d your sheets go, baby?” He asks once back by the front door with his own bag on his shoulder, setting a gentle hand on your lower back and holding out your charger for you. You jump slightly, and he makes circles on your back, wishing there was something he could do to settle you.
“Oh! They—they got ruined. I threw them out. It’s fine. I have others.”
So you didn’t have enough energy this morning to walk a few feet to your shower, but stripping your bed, getting dressed, and walking down to the trash chute at the end of the hall had been top of your priority list.
You swallow as he undoes the locks and holds the door open for you, and pretend like you’re not doing surveillance to either side as you stand in the hallway, locking your door again like you can’t get out of here fast enough.
Spencer casts a sidelong glance at you and wonders if you’re intentionally avoiding eye contact. He tries not to think like a profiler. He tries not to assign meaning to your actions, but he can’t help it. He can’t not notice.
He can’t not worry.
And he can’t not wonder what you’re not telling him.
-
part nine
#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfic
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OH SHIT UH baizhu x monster reader because I've been thinking about him lately. maybe something dubcon-y? I love pathetic men whimpering and crying 🎃
Author's Note: My mind went places, y'all… very horny places. 💀
Pairings: Baizhu x male reader
Warnings: Male plant monster!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Baizhu, sort of gullible Baizhu, dubcon, handjob, facial, riding, aphrodisiac, mild dumbification
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/98c60e41cfb4587e2d24d90f4d392786/ec4bdbda0b7923e5-d0/s540x810/cff2e2856a952982fdbb6cf0a228e373c9f86e37.jpg)
Why he had to run out of this particular herb was beyond him. As if that wasn't annoying enough, his suppliers were out of stock and wouldn't be able to ship him any more. The location of this herb has become increasingly dangerous, and no one could figure out why the men sent to gather these herbs came back… weird, to say the least. Nonetheless, Baizhu needed those herbs to treat his patients.
Was it a stupid idea to travel out there by himself and gather them by hand; yes, most certainly, and Changsheng told him as much, but a doctor's mind is a puzzling thing.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/98c60e41cfb4587e2d24d90f4d392786/ec4bdbda0b7923e5-d0/s540x810/cff2e2856a952982fdbb6cf0a228e373c9f86e37.jpg)
And that's how he ended up here; in the high mountains of Chenyu Vale. Normally, one would expect to run into a few monsters, at the very least, but Baizhu had yet to see a single one during his trek. There were plenty of other creatures, and the foliage didn't seem withered, so it's not as if this place was devoid of life nor on a biological decline—there was simply a lack of danger. Which is a strange occurrence, considering the reports he'd read…
That fact really should be comforting to the frail doctor, but in truth, it made a shiver run down his spine. His eyes nervously scanned over the immediate grassy grounds, hoping to catch a glimpse of the herb he so desperately needed — desperate enough to set foot on this mountain alone.
It took a bit more searching, but the herb in question was flourishing just around the back of one particular mountain. Baizhu carefully made his way towards the area, picking one herb and inspecting it to check its quality and that it was, in fact, the correct herb. Picking a few more, Baizhu comes across one plant that refuses to be plucked — an unusually tough herb, resisting his attempts to yank it out from the dirt.
As he goes to inspect the stem, a soft voice cries out; “U-um… excuse me? Could you help me…?” Looking over his shoulder, the doctor spots a person's head sticking up out of the ground—except their skin has a pale green hue to it, and as this person rises up, he notices how the ground around them shifts; as though the ground is a part of them.
Baizhu turns halfway, cautiously keeping an eye on you as he questions, “…What do you need help with?” The way your body flows effortlessly when you move—creating ripples in the immediate area around your torso—piques Baizhu's curiosity.
“O-oh! Um… it's a little embarrassing, if I'm being honest, sir…” you begin, “As you've probably guessed, I am not a human — think of me as a type of dendro spirit, I guess? Uh, anyways, there's this…ritual, of sorts, that only a human can help me with–”
The whole time you're explaining this predicament of yours, Baizhu keeps a watchful eye on you to make sure you're not tricking him. Even though you come across as rather sheepish.
“…I understand if you don't trust me, I just don't know what else to do…humans don't come around here too often, and the pain has become so much worse–”
“I'll help you.” He interjects. The sparkles in your eyes force him to hold back a chuckle as you thank him a million times over. “Please take me to this plant of yours.”
You excitedly take off, essentially a torso and head gliding halfway inside the ground, while this kind human with green hair trails just behind. Arriving at your destination, Baizhu kneels down, giving you a glance, and you return it nervously.
Baizhu eyes the plant inquisitively, staring at the odd shape and strange fleshy texture of the whole thing.
“Go on, doctor, I-I'm ready…” you prompt, giving the man a shy smile to mask your nerves.
With a quick breath to strengthen his resolve, the doctor raises his hands, wrapping them both around the plant and lightly squeezing it until a wet substance seeps out through the petals. “A-ah! aAh-” you gasp suddenly.
“I'm sorry—did that hurt?!”
You shake your head, nearly whimpering as you try to assure him, “N-no… just surprised me. Your hands… they're a bit cold…”
“My apologies, they should warm up soon enough. Shall we keep going?” Said like a true doctor. This stranger with kind eyes has been nothing but gentle with you so far, helping out a non-human creature whom he only met a few minutes ago, even if he finds your request a tad strange.
More wetness falls down his hands, pouring from the plant the more he squeezes and twists his hands around the elongated object. He experimentally moves his hands to other areas, and when Baizhu's thumbs rub and press on the tip of the plant, you're unable to hold back a sharp intake of air. Your eyes roll back momentarily, and you chomp down on your lower lip to conceal the noises threatening to escape.
The doctor eyes your pained expressions with worry written all over his face. “It's… fine — I'm fine. The pain… is not that bad… please, don't stop, doctor.”
As you wish, Baizhu milks more and more liquid from the plant, creating a pool of it underneath the stem of the plant—gradually creeping towards his knees and threatening to soak his pants. For the most part, it feels and looks like regular water, but there's a faint sensation of stickiness on his palms, close to the surface of the plant.
While this is supposed to be a medical procedure, Baizhu can't help feeling a bit… embarrassed by the whole situation. This plant of yours—it is a bit phallic. Not to mention how the method used to wring out the liquid is akin to… uh, a specific hand movement performed on phallic objects. The suggestive sounds coming from your mouth don't help that either. Baizhu can't ignore you when you moan out “Faster… faster, doctor- aah~ Keep stroking it like that… it's definitely woRKING-!”
The more Baizhu watches himself squeeze the glistening liquid from your plant, the deeper into a trance he falls — soon enough he's fallen so deep that he shamelessly jerks off the phallic plant until the tip opens up and explodes like a volcano; shooting thick, honey-like ropes all over Baizhu's pretty face.
The substance drips all down his features — clumping in strands of hair, clinging to his glasses, dripping from his nose and chin, and even a little sliding into his open mouth. “A-ah! Y-you… you did it… you made me release it all, doctor~” you comment — your words are the only thing penetrating that fuzzy mind of his right now. “Thank you soooo much~ But, could I trouble you with one more thing?” you lean forward, gently holding the doctor's chin so that he can't turn away from you. “Won't you help me again? It's the only way for me to feel all better.”
“Aah…? I don't… understand…” Baizhu breathes, confused and seemingly in a daze. It's such a precious sight to behold, really.
You reach out and slide a hand up and down the doctor's stomach, teasingly pushing his top up a few times before moving towards the edge of his pants. “You'll help me, won't you? You're such a kind doctor, after all~” you remind him. Baizhu's pants are quickly yanked down, removed the rest of the way by vines that the good doctor never noticed before…
With his sensitive areas laid bare for you to see, Baizhu gasps, frozen in place as your hands feel up his waist and thighs, pushing the latter apart so that you can inspect his body. Sliding two fingers towards his rear, you find that special hole humans have and tease around the rim of it. “Aha! There it is. I'm sorry to ask so much of you, but… I really need this right now.”
While he has no idea what you mean, the doctor senses something amiss within your words. Your fingers attempt to push inside of him, and Baizhu clumsily refuses. “I-I don't think… don't think that I can do that, young man… mm ooh~”
Impatiently, you lift him up and pull him towards you, hovering his hole right above the plant he'd previously milked. A little burst of liquid shoots from the tip, splashing against Baizhu's entrance, which startles him. The consistency of the liquid feels just like the substance it coated his face in earlier; thick, sticky, and warm.
While Baizhu's mind tries to resist, his body is doing quite the opposite, already lowering itself down until the tip of the plant is entering his ass. “A-AAH! Wait–!” he begs. But it's too little too late as your phallic plant penetrates him with ease, thanks to that honey-like fluid. The fleshy appendage pushes a wave of liquid inside his hole, and it creates a wet mess all over his ass, thighs, and the ground below as you begin to fuck him.
“Mm doctor… you feel incredible~ Hehe, look at that—this little guy is having fun too~” Baizhu blushes deeply, shaking his head while you watch his cock bounce every time your plant cock thrusts in.
“N-no… please, harder–! This is weird… aah~ so good~ ” the doctor grits his teeth, biting his lower lip as he grows frustrated by his own mouth betraying him. The cutest whimpers are the only sounds coming from his mouth as you continue your assault on his hole, thrusting your plant deeper and deeper. The amount of liquid gushing out of Baizhu's ass is ungodly now; sticky, squelchy, slick fluids that overflow with every thrust, filling his tummy until it hurts with how full it is.
“You're doing amazing, doctor! That terrible ache is almost gone, I j-just need to– guh!” you suddenly slam your hips into him, laughing as a pang of pleasure wracks your body and causes you to bury your cock in him. Your hands fly to his waist, and you bounce the human while he whimpers some more.
Tears begin to roll down Baizhu's cheeks, staining his glasses with a salty film as you release another round of that thick substance; this time inside the doctor's body. You pant wildly, mere inches from his face while your plant cock spreads open inside of his hole, releasing far too much liquid inside his belly.
#my writing#requested#halloween specials 🎃#oneshot#baizhu#baizhu smut#baizhu x male reader#baizhu x reader#sub baizhu#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin x male reader#genshin x reader#sub genshin#male reader#dom reader#top reader#monster reader#dom male reader#sub male character#monster au
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hey hey, ik ur requests are closed so im gonna leave this till u open them back up,
imagine Yakuza Boss!Toji bucking his hips into you, bored out of his mind at his meeting, you’re cute whimpers and whines for him to slow down slightly amusing him as a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, all this happening while his most trusted subordinates watch as he fucks into you at this meeting, while you just sit on his lap babbling about how good he feels until he finally makes you squirt, causing him to stop the meeting and kick everybody out so he can abuse your little hole some more, wanting to see you squirt for him more. :3
I feel like I went a little off script and I threw some Shiu in there too bc we're all sluts for Shiu right?? Bon apetit!
warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap, possessiveness, slight jealousy, slightly mean toji, dom!toji, exhibitionism, public sex, oral fixation, squirting, daddy!kink, DDLG esque?, pussy spanks.
words: 1.6k
“She shouldn’t be in here.” Shiu comments, his boss gives him a passive stare before looking in your direction. You sit politely with your hands in your lap and a shy smile, looking awkwardly around the room full of terrifying men. “She shouldn’t be listening to the shit we’re discussing.”
“I shouldn’t be listening to this shit, either. What the fuck do I pay you all for?” Toji responds, putting his arm around the back of your seat as he scoffs. “She’s needy, she needs constant attention and I know all you filthy fucks have got your eye on her so I don’t want her out of my sight.”
Shiu groans, but stands to his feet. You feel bad, really, you know what an inconvenience you are but you do try your best to remain demure and out of the way. But he’s right, you’re needy. And to be honest you’re a little afraid. Since you’ve become Toji’s plaything you’ve got a target on your back. You know with all of the security and loyal men at his disposal the odds of anything happening to you are slim. But still, you know it isn’t impossible.
Toji’s second in command leads the meeting in the board room, and you are engaged and silent as he speaks. It’s something about a territory dispute. You don’t fully understand but you know it’s illegal and dangerous. And you begin to whimper as they discuss resorting to violence.
The sound catches Toji’s attention. It seems you’ve been paying more attention than he has. He’s got more money than sense, and that is why he keeps Shiu around. But he can read you like a book. He knows when you’re happy or sad, angry or scared. And now, he sees how hard you’re trying to hold in the fear you feel. He knows what always makes you feel better, though. And he’s bored out of his fucking skull.
He shows no care or consideration for his audience as he lifts you from your seat and into his lap. Shiu stutters a little as he watches Toji manhandle you, your legs spread apart over his own before he touches under your little miniskirt. He smirks, kissing your shoulder when he feels your naked flesh.
“Good girl, no panties, jus’ like I told you.”
He doesn’t see a point to you wearing panties, he told you that after your first encounter. He told you he’d be keeping you around and you were his perfect little girl. And perfect little girls don’t need panties.
“Perfect little girls just need to keep their cunts wet for their daddy’s.” that is what he told you.
Your face flushes with heat when you realise if anyone in the room is brave enough to look they’ll see your dripping little slit. You aren’t sure how brave Toji’s men really are, though. But Toji is bold and uncaring and he knows what he wants. Always.
You gasp, softly, stealing a few gazes from the men in the room. Shiu is busy trying to keep the meeting on track and keep everyone focused. And it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. He knows your pussy like the back of his hand, too. Because Toji loves to show you off. But he’ll never share. But his second in command knows better than most what your cute cunt is capable of. It’s a novelty to him, now. Why would he steal glances when he knows his generous boss will brag about you in private to him?
You fall forwards, little hands slamming against the table top as Toji rams his cock into you without remorse. He holds your hips, pulling you down until the back of your thighs smack against his. His fingers squeeze into your doughy skin, sure to leave bruises as he’s often one to do. Any fear that you’d felt at the thought of the men surrounding you committing acts of violence are a distant memory, now. You’re too busy trying to steady yourself through daddy’s onslaught.
“P-Please, fuck, please… daddy! S-Slow down!” you beg, a smirk sprawls like wildfire across his face as he listens to your desperate pleas.
“No no no, you don’t tell me what to do,” he reminds you. A light slap coming down on your clit as he continues fucking up into you. “Stop thinking, just take it, princess.”
Shiu sighs, his focus wavering as you continue to moan and yelp through Toji’s never ending fucking. He lights a cigarette for himself and then hands one to Toji. He takes a hand away from your hip to bring it to his lips, and Shiu proceeds to light his and then his own.
He continues to speak as if nothing is happening. He’s so calm and collected, but it’s no wonder. Toji is a man he’s known for as long as he can remember and he knows all of the complexities that come with him. Not to say that you are complex. You’re probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him, truthfully. But it isn’t as much of a distraction as it seems to be for the rest of his subordinates.
Toji chortles when he watches Shiu slot his thumb into your mouth, his other hand still holding his cigarette with no care to where the ash lands. The lackeys are even more confused, now, do they share you? Toji isn’t the type to share, no, but he isn’t going to chastise Shiu for doing what he needs to do to get through his meeting.
Besides, you look quite cute sucking on his thumb. He always thinks you look cute when you’re sucking on something, though. You hold onto Shiu’s wrist as you suckle on his thumb. And you hate that he won’t give you any attention, especially when you’re blinking up at him with pretty, wet eyes. Doesn’t he want to admire how cute you’re being for him?
You begin to act up, mewling loudly around his fingers as you try to get him to look at you. But it only ends in another wet slap on your pussy from Toji and a particularly rough cantering of his hips. He pulls you back towards him, your shoulder blades cushioned by his pecs as you’re pulled into him.
Shiu wipes your saliva from his thumb onto his blazer and gives you a passive glance before focusing on the men in the room again. He snaps his fingers in a bid to command their attention.
Toji, however, is fixated on you. His sharp canines ghost over your jugular. Your heart rate quickens and so do the shallow breaths escaping your throat. He silences you, his hand smothers your lips as he continues to nip and bite softly with ease. It’s exciting, and terrifying, because you know he could tear out your throat if he really wanted to.
“Did I just hear you beggin’ for another man’s attention, princess?” he whispers, his large palm pushing your legs further apart before repeatedly slapping down against your firm clit. “Is daddy’s cock ruinin’ you not enough, hah? Because I’ll stop, right now, and you can forget about cumming for a while. A long fucking while, darlin’.”
You muffle your protests through his smothering palm. Of course he’s enough! You got carried away, that’s all. He’s more than enough. You don’t need anyone else’s attention. Just him. Only him.
“Heh, that’s what I thought.” he laughs, harshly, licking a fat stripe up your neck with his wide tongue. Tears spill from your eyes as he continues to pound into you, gritting his teeth with each squeeze and stifled moan he’s suffocating with his hand. He wraps his free hand around your torso and drills upwards into your slippery heat.
Your moans become louder as you reach your peak. He repeatedly nudges your sensitive insides in the most beautiful way and forces you to clench and wince and fucking scream through your nostrils as he drags your orgasm out of you.
And eyes begin to turn white as they roll into the back of your head. Your body turns limp as his touch forces an orgasm from your body. Your body is wracked as you violently shake through it, your cunt squirting all over his lap and onto the floor below. He moans, boisterously at your display.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by the men in the room, either, as the sound of gushing water hits the ground below.
Toji bends you over the desk, carnal desire flooding all sense that he has. He pushes your head down so your cheek is squished against the table. You look up at Shiu, blinking pathetically. And now, you do have his attention. Toji hisses, flipping your skirt up to reveal your plump ass. He has no doubt his men will find it difficult not to look.
“Everyone out, now.” he commands, his men readily jump to their feet and begin to filter out of the room. Shiu stubs his cigarette out on the table top, not even an inch away from your nose and he prepares to leave. “Not you. Stay.” Toji orders. Shiu chuckles, weakly, and takes a seat.
“What do I owe this pleasure?” he asks, tucking your hair behind your ear as he watches your fucked out face continue to swallow Toji’s cock again and again. “Sorry I couldn’t give you any attention, angel. That meeting was a disaster, huh?” he smiles.
“This isn’t your pleasure, Shiu.” Toji informs him. “She jus’ likes it when you watch.”
© 2023 rinitxshi
#💌 — luxe mail#📨 — requests#toji x reader#toji x you#toji smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#anime smut#female reader#sub reader#jjk x fem!reader#tw age gap#tw possessiveness#tw jealousy#tw exhibitionism#tw daddy kink
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WHO DID THIS TO YOU?──RAFE CAMERON
free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!
for this request, for my lovely jo! @wanderlusturous
─ summary | you and rafe are consumed by an obsessive love, where their madness is fueled by each other. you find exhilaration in pushing boundaries, testing each other’s limits, and the deeper you fall into your shared insanity, the tighter your bond becomes. when rafe finds you crying in your bedroom one day, he loses his shit and is thrown into a silent rage, seeking revenge. and you don't mind, not one bit.
─ pairing | rafe cameron x fem!reader
─ warnings | oh my god, where do i even begin?? obsessive rafe, like insane but reader reciprocates it. a few kisses but mostly just insane stuff. mention of drugging (not to reader), hacking (?), idk what else but this is lowkey insane...
─ ev's notes | im gonna be honest, i don't know if i like this... but lmk if yall enjoyed it. it's a little too dark-themed for me and i got into it until i reread it and realized that it was lowkey insane but hey!!! whatever!!! anyway, pls lmk if this was too dark.. or if you enjoyed it. also, sorry to any becca's out there, it was just the first name that popped up. any feedback is always very appreciated!
ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!
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The night is suffocating, thick with tension that mirrors the pulse racing in your veins. Every sound, every breath, seems amplified, as if the world knows what’s coming. You stand by the dock, your eyes on the dark water ahead, but your thoughts are elsewhere—on him.
Rafe.
You can already feel him, even when he’s not here. The way your skin hums when you think of him, the way your pulse skips in sync with his name. No one gets you like Rafe does. No one makes you feel like the world is spinning off its axis just by looking at you. He’s chaos, destruction wrapped in a pretty face, and you... you crave it.
The roar of an engine breaks through the night. You don’t turn, but a slow smile curls on your lips. You feel the heat of his presence before you even hear his footsteps.
“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Rafe’s voice is a low drawl, but there’s something manic beneath it, something that sparks against the madness in you.
You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch his eyes. There’s that look again. That wild, possessive look that sets your blood on fire. He’s close now, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him, feel the tension in the air tighten like a noose around your neck.
“Neither could you,” you reply, your voice low, daring.
He grins, a sharp, dangerous thing. “You’re right. I can’t.”
His fingers brush your arm, just a ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to ignite something violent between you. This—this is what you live for. The thrill. The madness. The way Rafe looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him sane, and maybe that’s what scares you the most.
Because you’re not sane.
Not anymore.
You can’t even remember why you broke up with him a few months ago, but all you know is that it got overwhelming. There was something suffocating about it—about him. The way he always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were thinking before you even said it. At first, it was intoxicating, the way he could read you like no one else ever could, like you were the only two people on earth and no one else mattered. But then… it was too much. His intensity felt like drowning in quicksand, slow but relentless. And for a moment, just a moment, you thought maybe you needed air.
But standing here now, with the salt stinging your nostrils and the wind howling like some kind of omen, you can’t remember why you ever thought you could leave him.
Because there he is—Rafe Cameron, walking toward you like the world is his and you’re his prize, eyes locked on you in a way that makes your chest tighten, your stomach coil in knots. He’s dangerous in all the ways that matter. Not just because he’s reckless and violent (though God knows he is), but because of how he makes you feel. Alive, in a way that hurts. Like the rush you get standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing one wrong step and it’s all over, but you can’t stop yourself from leaning forward, just to feel the thrill of almost falling.
He doesn’t stop walking until he’s so close you can smell the gasoline and smoke on his clothes, the wild energy pouring off him in waves. He looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters, like you’re the oxygen he’s been deprived of for too long, and suddenly it all makes sense again. The madness. The break-up. The inevitable pull back to him.
“Why’d you leave me?” His voice is low, rough like gravel. His eyes burn with something fierce, and you can feel it sinking into you, clawing its way under your skin. He’s not asking because he doesn’t know. He’s asking because he wants to hear you say it.
You stare at him, heart pounding, pulse thrumming in your ears like a warning. But instead of stepping back, you step forward, closing the small gap between you two. Your breath mingles with his, the night air thick with unsaid things, and you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something irreversible. Like if you take one more step, there’s no going back.
But isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? The danger. The thrill. The sick, twisted excitement of being so intertwined with him that you forget where he ends and you begin.
“I don’t know,” you whisper, even though that’s not the full truth. You do know. You left because you were scared. Scared of how much you wanted him, needed him, even when it hurt. Scared of the fact that the line between love and obsession blurred so fast with him that you couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
His jaw tightens, and his hands, those rough, calloused hands that have touched you in ways no one else ever has, reach out. He grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, and for a moment, you swear you can see the wild, unhinged thing lurking just behind his eyes. It’s the same thing you see in yourself when you look in the mirror. The madness that ties you to him, binds you like a curse.
“You do know,” he says, voice dark and demanding. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, slow, like he’s testing how far he can push you before you break. “You just won’t say it.”
A shiver runs down your spine, but it’s not fear. It’s something else, something deeper. Something that feels like surrender and power all at once. You lean into his touch, letting his hand curl around the side of your face, the heat of him soaking into your skin like a drug.
“I couldn’t handle it,” you admit, the words thick and heavy in your throat. “You. Us. It was too much.”
Rafe’s lips curl into a smirk, but it’s not a kind one. It’s dark, possessive. “Too much? You know you liked it. You loved it.” His hand tightens slightly on your jaw, just enough for you to feel the edge of his control, like he’s reminding you who he is. What he is. “You loved me because of how fucked up we are. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
You swallow hard, heart thundering in your chest, because deep down, you know he’s right. You’ve never felt more alive than when you were with him, caught up in the madness of it all. The fights, the passion, the way you both pushed each other to the edge and then pulled each other back, only to do it all over again. It was twisted, dangerous, and wrong in every way, but that’s what made it irresistible.
“I did,” you confess, and it’s like a weight lifts off your chest, even as you feel yourself falling back into him, back into the chaos. “I do.”
The smirk fades, replaced by something darker, hungrier. His eyes search yours, looking for any sign of hesitation, any crack in your resolve. But there’s nothing. You’re not the same person who left him. Maybe you never really left at all.
Rafe’s hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips hover just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, and before you can respond, his mouth crashes into yours, hard and demanding.
It’s not gentle. It’s never been gentle with Rafe. His kiss is all teeth and tongue, like he’s trying to devour you, claim you all over again. And you let him, because deep down, you crave it just as much as he does. The fire, the chaos, the way he makes you feel like you’re spinning out of control but somehow exactly where you’re supposed to be.
When he pulls back, you’re both breathing hard, your lips swollen, your pulse racing like you’ve just run a marathon. His hands grip your waist now, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the heat of his body searing into yours.
“Tell me,” he says, voice low and dangerous, his eyes boring into yours. “Tell me you’re mine.”
Your heart hammers in your chest, but you don’t hesitate. “I’m yours.” And you are, completely, utterly, unashamedly his.
And just like that, you’re back where you started.
───MONTHS LATER . . .
“God fucking damn it, if you don't tell me right now, I'm gonna lose my shit!” Rafe shouts, his voice cracking like thunder in the small living room as he throws the beer bottle against the wall.
Glass shatters everywhere, scattering across the floor, but you don’t even flinch. You’ve seen this before. Hell, you’ve lived it. The rage, the temper, the chaos—it's like a script you’ve both memorized by heart.
You lean back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching him like you would a caged animal—wild and unpredictable. He’s pacing now, his movements sharp and erratic, the muscles in his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder if they might snap. His eyes are wild, blue like ice but burning with something untamable, something dangerous. He’s teetering on the edge, that fine line between fury and desperation, and you know it won’t take much to push him over.
But you don’t care. Not right now.
“Rafe, calm the fuck down,” you say, your voice steady, almost bored. You know that’ll get to him. It always does. Nothing makes him crazier than when you don’t give him the reaction he’s fishing for.
His head snaps in your direction, eyes narrowing as he stalks toward you like a predator honing in on prey. He stops just inches away, towering over you, his chest heaving, breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. He’s so close now that you can smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the heat radiating off his skin. But you don’t move. You stand your ground, looking up at him with a calm that borders on defiance.
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” he spits, voice laced with venom. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, knuckles white. “I’m sick of your bullshit! You think you can just stand there like you’re better than me, like you’re not a part of this, but guess what, baby? You are. You always have been.”
You tilt your head slightly, eyes narrowing as a slow smile creeps across your lips. “You’re being dramatic, Rafe,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “What, you gonna break something else? Or are you actually gonna say what’s bothering you for once?”
That does it.
He slams his hands down on the counter behind you, trapping you between his arms, his face just inches from yours. His eyes blaze with fury, but beneath it, you see something else—something raw, something that makes your stomach twist in knots.
“Don’t play games with me,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “I know what you’re doing. You think you can just push me around, mess with my head, and I’ll keep coming back like a fucking dog, huh?”
You meet his gaze, unblinking, heart racing in your chest but refusing to show it. You can feel the tension crackling between you like electricity, the air thick with it, suffocating. This is what it always comes down to with Rafe—this toxic push and pull, this need to break each other just to see what’s left after the pieces fall apart.
“You think I’m the one messing with your head?” you say, your voice low, challenging. “Maybe you should take a look in the mirror, Rafe. You’re not exactly innocent in this, are you?”
His jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he’s going to explode. But instead, he just stares at you, eyes flickering with something dark, something primal. Then, slowly, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin.
“Innocent?” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. “Baby, I’ve never claimed to be innocent. You knew exactly who I was when you got into this.”
You don’t flinch. You don’t pull back. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your lips grazing the corner of his jaw as you whisper back, “Yeah, and that’s why I’m not scared of you.”
His breath hitches, just for a second, and you feel a surge of satisfaction. You’ve always known how to push his buttons, how to throw him off balance, even when he’s at his most dangerous. It’s a game you’ve played a thousand times before, and you both know how it ends—chaotic, messy, with both of you circling back to the same place.
But this time feels different.
There’s something darker in the way he’s looking at you, something that feels more like possession than anger. Like he’s not just mad because you’re fighting—he’s mad because he can’t stand the thought of you slipping away. Because he knows, deep down, that no matter how hard you push him, he’ll always want you. Need you.
“You don’t get to walk away from me,” Rafe says, his voice low, deadly. “Not this time.”
You feel his grip tighten on the counter behind you, his body pressing against yours as if he’s trying to fuse the two of you together, like if he holds on tight enough, you won’t be able to escape. But he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand that you’re already too far gone. That the very thing he’s holding on to is slipping through his fingers, and there’s nothing either of you can do about it.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” you say softly, a cold smile on your lips. “I can walk away whenever I want. I just choose not to.”
And with that, you duck under his arm, slipping out from between him and the counter. His eyes follow you, wide with disbelief, rage bubbling just beneath the surface. You know he’s about to lose it, to completely unravel. But you don’t turn back. Not yet.
Because this time, you want him to come after you.
And he always does.
Rafe’s eyes darken as you slip past him, and for a moment, the room goes deadly silent. The tension is thick, heavy like a storm cloud waiting to burst. You know exactly what’s coming, and it sends a thrill down your spine. You can almost feel it—the moment he snaps, the second his control shatters. It’s a twisted game, one you’ve played too many times before, and every time, you push him a little harder, a little further, just to see how far he’ll go for you.
You take slow, deliberate steps toward the door, your back turned to him, feeling the heat of his gaze sear into you. You don’t need to look back to know he’s watching, every muscle in his body tensed like a predator stalking its prey. The air feels electric, charged with a violence that’s always been just beneath the surface between you two.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His voice cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp and biting. You stop, but you don’t turn around. Not yet.
“Does it matter?” you ask, voice calm, almost teasing. “I thought I could walk away whenever I wanted, remember?”
The silence that follows is deafening. You know you’ve hit a nerve. He hates when you challenge him, hates when you act like you have the upper hand. But that’s what makes it so addictive—pushing him to his limit, watching him unravel in front of you, knowing that no matter how hard he fights it, he’ll always come back to you.
Because he can’t help it. Neither of you can.
Suddenly, you hear his footsteps behind you, fast and heavy, and before you can react, his hand grips your arm, yanking you back toward him with a force that nearly knocks the breath out of you. He spins you around, his face inches from yours, eyes blazing with fury.
“You’re not fucking going anywhere,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. His grip tightens on your arm, fingers digging into your skin, but the pain only makes your pulse quicken, your breath hitch in your throat. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like he’s on the verge of losing control, like he’s barely holding himself together—that sends a thrill through you.
“Let go of me, Rafe,” you say, your voice daring him, even though you know you don’t really want him to.
He doesn’t. Instead, he pulls you closer, his other hand gripping the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him. His chest is heaving, his eyes wild, but there’s something else there, too—something desperate, like he’s terrified of losing you, like he’s clinging to you with everything he has left.
“You think you can just walk away?” he snarls, his breath hot against your face. “After everything? After all the shit we’ve been through? You really think I’m just gonna let you go?”
You meet his gaze, unblinking, your heart racing, but there’s no fear. Not with him. There never is. Instead, you feel the pull again—the twisted, sick need to see how far you can push him, how deep his obsession goes.
“I think you don’t have a choice,” you say, your voice steady, even though your pulse is hammering in your ears.
His grip tightens, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles twitching beneath his skin. For a second, you think he’s going to snap—really snap—but then, just as quickly, something shifts in his expression. The anger doesn’t fade, but it’s joined by something darker, something raw and consuming.
“You’re wrong,” he whispers, his voice barely audible but laced with danger. “You don’t get to decide when this ends. I do.”
Before you can react, his lips crash against yours, rough and demanding, as if he’s trying to prove a point. It’s not a kiss; it’s a claim, a reminder that you belong to him, whether you want to admit it or not. His hands tighten on you, pulling you impossibly closer, and you can feel the tension in his body, the barely restrained violence simmering just beneath the surface.
But instead of pulling away, you kiss him back with just as much fire, matching his intensity. It’s always been like this between you two—this chaotic, messy whirlwind of emotion that neither of you can control. You push, he pulls, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you find something that feels like love, even though you both know it’s something darker, something more dangerous.
When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, your lips swollen and bruised. His hand stays on the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that’s both possessive and tender, like he’s reminding himself that you’re still here, still his.
“You’re mine,” he says, his voice rough, eyes blazing as he stares down at you. “You’ve always been mine.”
You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. There’s a part of you that wants to fight it, to push him away and run as far as you can. But there’s a bigger part of you, a darker part, that knows he’s right.
You’re his. You always have been.
“Yeah,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m yours.”
The words hang in the air between you, thick and heavy, and for a moment, everything else falls away. The anger, the tension, the broken glass on the floor—it’s all background noise now. All that matters is the two of you, standing here in this twisted, fucked-up mess of a relationship, knowing that no matter how many times you try to break free, you’ll always end up right back here.
With him.
Rafe’s grip on you softens, just slightly, and for the first time in what feels like hours, the intensity in his eyes eases. But it’s still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the next time one of you decides to test the limits again. Because there will be a next time. There always is.
“You’re not leaving me again,” he says, his voice softer now, but no less serious. “Not ever.”
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Because deep down, you know that no matter how much you might want to, no matter how many times you tell yourself you can walk away, you won’t.
You never could.
And Rafe knows it, too.
───
You don’t usually cry. Not ever. Tears are something you’ve learned to bury deep down, hidden under layers of indifference and biting sarcasm. But tonight, they come, hot and angry, streaming down your face as you sit curled up on the edge of the bed, hands trembling in your lap. The weight of the evening presses down on you, your mind reeling from everything that happened.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not tonight.
Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand, but you ignore it. You can’t deal with it right now. You don’t want to see the messages or hear the apologies. You don’t want to relive what just went down.
You wipe at your face roughly, trying to pull yourself together, but it’s no use. The shaky breath you let out only betrays you further, and you feel the tears well up again. You bite your lip to keep from making a sound, not wanting him to hear you.
But, of course, Rafe hears everything.
The door swings open, and Rafe steps inside, his broad frame filling the doorway. He looks at you, really looks at you, and in an instant, his expression darkens. His blue eyes narrow as they sweep over you, taking in the tear-streaked face, the hunched shoulders, the way your body is wound tight like a coiled spring, ready to snap. His jaw tightens, and you can practically feel the shift in the air around him.
“What happened?” His voice is low, dangerous, barely restrained. It’s not a question—it’s a demand.
You shake your head, trying to brush it off. “It’s nothing, Rafe. Just forget it.”
But you know better than to think he’ll let it go. The second you met him, you realized Rafe Cameron isn’t the kind of guy who “forgets” anything.
He moves closer, the tension in his body palpable. He’s not pacing like he usually does when he’s angry. This is different. Controlled. Focused. Like he’s honing in on the source of your pain, ready to eliminate it. He crouches down in front of you, one hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. His touch is firm, possessive, but not rough—not yet.
“Tell me what happened,” he says again, his eyes boring into yours. “Who did this to you?”
You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should even bring it up. You know how Rafe gets—how he reacts when someone hurts you. And this time, it wasn’t just anyone. It was someone close. Someone you thought was your friend.
“It’s—” You start, but your voice cracks, and you quickly bite down, trying to steady yourself. “It was…Becca.”
“Becca?” The name drops like a lead weight between you two, and you can see the recognition flare in his eyes. Becca, your friend for years, the one person outside of him you’ve always trusted. The one person he’s always been wary of.
Rafe’s grip tightens slightly, his thumb brushing over your jaw in a way that makes your pulse race. His voice drops to a low, dangerous whisper. “What did she do?”
You hesitate, but the words spill out before you can stop them. “She—she said some things. At the party tonight. She called me out in front of everyone, said I was using you, that I only stuck around for the money, the attention. She tried to turn everyone against me, Rafe. She made me look… weak.”
His face hardens instantly, and for a split second, you see something flash in his eyes—something dark and lethal. The kind of rage that makes your breath catch in your throat, even though you know it’s not directed at you.
“She said what?” His voice is so low now, it’s almost a growl.
You nod, swallowing hard, feeling the burn of humiliation all over again. “I don’t know why she did it. I thought she was my friend.”
Rafe lets out a slow breath, and the air around him feels like it’s vibrating with the intensity of his anger. He stands up abruptly, pacing the room, running a hand through his hair as if trying to keep himself from completely losing it. But you know it’s too late for that.
“I’ll fucking kill her,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear every word. “I’ll ruin her life.”
“Rafe—” You start to protest, but he cuts you off with a sharp look.
“No. No one talks to you like that. Not her, not anyone.” His voice is clipped, sharp, like he’s barely holding back the full force of what he’s feeling. “You don’t deserve this shit. Not from her, not from anyone.”
His protectiveness borders on obsession, but you can’t help but feel a strange comfort in it. It’s twisted, but there’s something about the way Rafe reacts to these things—like the whole world can burn as long as you’re safe—that makes you feel… seen. Important.
“I’m going to fix this,” he says, more to himself than to you, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “She thinks she can talk shit about you? In front of everyone? Humiliate you? Nah. She’s going to regret it. I’ll make sure of that.”
“Rafe,” you say softly, trying to reach for him, but he’s too far gone. You can see it in the way his eyes have glazed over, already plotting, already deciding exactly how he’s going to destroy Becca.
And part of you wants to stop him. Part of you knows that this isn’t the answer, that maybe you should handle it differently, like a normal person would.
But you’re not normal. Not anymore.
“I’m serious,” he says, turning to face you again, his expression deadly serious. “No one fucks with you. Ever.”
His intensity washes over you, and for a second, you feel like you can’t breathe. But at the same time, it fills you with a sense of power, knowing that he’s willing to go to these lengths for you. That he’ll protect you at all costs, no matter how destructive it gets.
You stand up slowly, crossing the room until you’re in front of him, your hand resting on his chest. “Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
Rafe’s eyes flicker down to you, and for a brief moment, you see a softness there, a flicker of the boy beneath all the rage and chaos. “I won’t. But I’m not letting this go.”
You nod, knowing there’s no point in arguing with him. This is who he is—who you both are. Twisted, obsessive, reckless. But it works. Somehow, it works. And deep down, you don’t really want him to let it go.
A few months later, and somehow everything goes to shit for Becca.
It starts small—things that could almost pass as bad luck. First, her new car gets keyed, deep scratches across the side that no amount of buffing can fix. Then her social media accounts get hacked, posts disappearing, weird comments being left on other people’s pages, like someone is deliberately screwing with her life piece by piece. She brushes it off at first, because Becca’s tough. She’s the type of girl who bounces back quickly, who doesn’t let things get under her skin.
But then things escalate. Quickly.
She gets benched during a big volleyball game when her coach suddenly pulls her aside and questions her attitude. The team captain claims Becca’s been talking shit about the coach behind her back, stirring up drama with teammates. The problem is, Becca never said any of it. But now, she’s got a reputation, and people are starting to look at her differently.
Still, she fights through it, determined not to let it get to her. Becca’s always had her eye on the prize: her full ride to UC Berkeley, where she’s set to play volleyball at the college level. That’s her future. Her escape. Nothing can touch that.
Until it does.
The call comes one morning, out of nowhere. Becca’s shaking as she listens to the voice on the other end of the line, her heart plummeting as her coach tells her the news.
“We’ve received the results of your recent drug test, Becca,” the coach says, his voice stern but somehow apologetic. “I’m sorry, but you’ve tested positive for a banned substance.”
Becca’s head spins, her mouth going dry. “That’s impossible,” she blurts out, panic rising in her chest. “I don’t do drugs. I don’t—”
“I know this is hard to hear,” the coach cuts her off, his voice firm. “But the results are what they are. This disqualifies you from the scholarship and the team. UC Berkeley has revoked your offer.”
The words hit her like a sledgehammer. She feels the ground tilt beneath her, everything she’s worked for slipping through her fingers in an instant. She argues, pleads, tries to explain, but the decision is final. There’s nothing she can do.
And that’s when she starts to see it, to feel the weight of something much bigger pressing down on her. This isn’t just bad luck. It’s not a coincidence that her life is unraveling at the seams. No, this feels orchestrated, like someone’s been pulling the strings behind the scenes, watching her fall apart.
That someone is Rafe Cameron.
Rafe can be physical—he wouldn’t hesitate to swing on anyone he deems a threat. But Rafe isn’t a dumbass. He knows that not everything should be dealt with by violence. Some things are better handled with precision, with patience, with slow, deliberate destruction. He knew that punching Becca in the face wouldn’t satisfy him, wouldn’t give him the kind of control he wanted over the situation.
So instead, he used his connections, his money, his influence, all of the tools at his disposal to dismantle her life bit by bit. A hacked account here, a few whispers to the right people there. He didn’t need to lay a finger on her to destroy her. He just needed to plant the seeds of doubt, to set off a chain reaction, and then watch it all come crumbling down.
The drug test? Easy. A little slip of something into her drink at a party when she wasn’t paying attention, followed by a tip-off to the testing agency. The rumors about her trash-talking her coach? Carefully spread by a few well-placed texts to her teammates, pretending to be her. Her social media? That was just for fun, a way to throw her off balance and make her feel like her world was spiraling.
And it worked.
You know all of this, of course. Rafe never bothers to hide things from you. In fact, he’s proud of it, proud of the way he’s dismantled Becca’s life without so much as breaking a sweat. He tells you about it one night while you’re lying together, his arm draped lazily over your waist as he whispers in your ear.
“She thought she could fuck with you,” he murmurs, his voice dark, satisfied. “But now she knows. No one touches what’s mine.”
You should feel guilty. You should feel something for Becca, after all those years of friendship, of thinking she had your back. But all you can feel is a sick sense of satisfaction, like the universe has finally corrected itself. Becca messed with the wrong person, and now she’s paying the price. And as twisted as it is, you can’t help but feel a little thrill at how far Rafe was willing to go for you, how meticulously he destroyed her without you even asking him to.
“You really did all that?” you ask, your voice low, a smirk tugging at your lips.
Rafe shifts beside you, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your neck. “I told you, baby. No one fucks with you and gets away with it.”
You turn your head to meet his gaze, and there’s something dangerous in the way he looks at you, something possessive and wild. It should scare you, but it doesn’t. Not anymore.
Because the truth is, you like it. You like how far he’s willing to go for you, how far he’s willing to take it. There’s something intoxicating about the way he loves you—twisted, obsessive, and all-consuming. It’s not healthy, not normal, but it’s yours. And that’s enough.
You press your lips to his, kissing him fiercely, feeling the heat between you two ignite once again. Rafe kisses you back just as hard, his hands gripping you tightly, like he’s reminding you that you’re his and no one else’s.
As you pull back, your breath ragged, you glance at him, your voice barely above a whisper.
“She won’t come near me again.”
“No,” Rafe says, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. “She won’t.”
And in that moment, you both know it’s true. Becca’s done.
↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#obx 4#outer banks 4
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heeey!! how r u? i hope ur fine 🤍🤍 i really REALLY beg (😭) for anything related to donnie darko
like:
dom!donnie and enemies to lovers maybe? tysm for reading love ya!
mean donnie twt visuals
many people asked for a part two of my p!link post w donnie and w this request i just had two combine the two!! enjoy
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donnie’s placebos haven’t been working, he’s been crabby and talking to him is like walking on eggshells. you could be the sweetest girl in the world and he’d still find a way to get pissed off.
to be completely honest, you were terrified when donnie invited you to his house to work on the science project together. one because he was so ominous and also you had a giant crush on him, which you knew he didn’t reciprocate.
donnie’s confession about liking you was messy and horribly drawn out. poor boy couldn’t admit that he had fantasized about you just as much as you him. you kissed him saw way to say “i know, i like you too.”
you liked him this whole time and made him do all the talking? what a bitch! you deserved a lesson
slick transition into twt!links
link - donnie would get mad when you rode him and got fucked out too quickly. he blamed you for being lazy as if he was the one on top. but the feeling oh him ramming up into you made you to stupid to care
oh my god - donnie when you kissed to shut him up and his mind went blank (like the guy in the vid) before he could even get mad
the hands 🙇♀️ - now that your finally donnie’s, he’s obsessed with you and needs to feel every inch of your body :3
link - donnie knows you like it rough, and he’s happy to oblige
link - he doesn’t care if it’s the uniform. you wore that skirt to school for all the boys to see you. you kept flashing your panties at him every second, it’s just not fair!!
donnie w a size kink more good lord
mewehehehe thanks for reading, masterlist is on the way >:3
#donnie darko#donnie darko smut#donnie darko x reader smut#donnie x reader#i love donnie darko#jake gyllenhaal#jake gyllenhaal smut#jake gyllenhaal x reader#donnie darko imagine#p!link#twt links#twitter links
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[thinkin bout you] taesan x f!reader | 5.8k words high school au, childhood friends 2 lovers, slight e2l, fake dating, first kiss, moving away and reunion kinda ???, also bffs 2 lovers ish, smut at the end note. happy (late) birthday to my lovely kay <333 hope u love it my cherry pie. sorry to everyone for how long this took, finishing this fic almost broke me. (and yes heres another taesan fic for the anon who was asking). also highly recommend listening to steve lacy while reading this, the plot was v inspired by infrunami and the entire lo-fis album :]
the first time you met taesan, he didn't give the grandest first impression. not that you really expected to be blown away by a six year old boy, but meeting him while he was covered in mud wasn't what you were anticipating either.
your family had just moved next to the boy's house, and as you picked dandelions and flowers from the front yard to collect and keep, you couldn't help but notice a young boy playing in the garden of the house next door. turning to see you, the boy giddily bounded over to you, introducing himself joyfully.
you should've been nicer; he was just another little boy enjoying the breezy summer day, but you couldn't help scrunching your nose as you eyed him up and down. his knees were green with grass stains and his arms and legs were covered with swipes of dirt, a bit of mud sticking to his cheek.
within a minute, his mother noticed her son poking his nose outside of the yard and came over to collect him, chiding his dirtiness and sending him back to his own abode. taesan pouted for less than a second before smiling brightly at you, waving happily as he ran back to his house. you frowned slightly at his bright demeanor.
although you were the same age as taesan, something both of your mothers were delighted by, you considered yourself more mature and too grown up for kiddish activities, and this logic applied to others your age as well.
growing up as well, you found boys to be immature and difficult creatures, always finding yourself repelled by their confusing antics. taesan was just any other boy to you, childish and juvenile.
despite your obvious disdain towards the young boy, your families still spent a great deal of time together. they were always encouraging the two of you to get along; you never had any of it.
taesan caught onto this attitude pretty quickly as well, wondering why you didn't like him. he decided he'd rather play with his toy cars and lay in the grass than dwell on it though.
this was how your dynamic was, the two of you in an unspoken agreement that it would be better to just leave each other alone.
you saw less and less of taesan after his parents decided to enroll him in a private school to finish out his middle and high school years. to be honest, you couldn't have cared less -- your childish neighbor was far from your mind as you immersed yourself in your high school sports, particularly enjoying volleyball and swimming.
being on both teams for your school and trying to keep your grades up took up the majority of your time, meaning you hadn't exactly experienced the infamous teenage romance, as your parents liked to call it.
you didn't know why your parents cared about your love life so much. you felt perfectly content with your school activities and your various friends, not feeling the need to burden yourself with a boyfriend.
taesan was similar to you in that way; after growing into adolescence and beginning teenagerhood he began to delve into music, writing and composing songs became his life. granted, he'd had a couple flings here and there, so he wasn't completely in the dark when it came to relationships.
for his final semester of his senior year, taesan ended up transferring back to your high school. you found out about this when you watched him run out the front door one morning as you were unlocking your car, ready to drive yourself to school.
you almost didn't realize it was him, granted the last time you'd gotten a proper glance at him was when the two of you were maybe 12. his once chestnut brown hair was dyed jet black, and the curliness of it had settled and loosened so it was just slightly wavy.
he'd grown at least half a foot, shoulders broad and sturdy. you eyed his long legs that carried him to the bus that he was practically chasing. biting a laugh back, you watched him sheepishly smile at the bus driver, who rolled his eyes before letting the boy on.
the next time you saw taesan was that evening actually. returning home after swim practice, you saw your mom in the living room vacuuming the floors. pausing for a moment, she unplugged the machine to greet you, hugging you gently and asking how your day was.
"nothing crazy. practice was fine too." your mom fought the urge to sigh out loud. you were always talking about sports while she was constantly hoping you'd come back telling her that you'd met someone.
"that's great, honey" she faked a smile at your denseness, turning around to continue cleaning.
"taesan's back." for a moment, your mom looked caught off guard before smiling again, hoping if she acted normal you'd be encouraged to continue.
"and?"
"he looks different" you spoke as you fell onto the couch, rubbing the back of your neck.
"it's been years since the last time you saw him, hasn't it?" you nodded.
"he's going to my school now." you smiled again thinking about how silly he'd looked this morning.
"i know, i invited him and his mom over for dinner today." your mom replied sheepishly, anticipating an outburst of sorts from her daughter.
"what?" you sputtered in surprise, eyes wide as you stared at your mom.
"what? they're our neighbors, plus i haven't had a chance to catch up with mrs. han in a while." you groaned at the idea of an awkward dinner and having to dress nicely. you trudged up the stairs to your room to wash your hair and find some decent looking clothes that weren't your team sweats.
++
you were helping your mom set the table when the doorbell rang, sighing as your mom giggled and turned to answer the door. hearing both of your moms' giddy voices around the corner as they greeted each other, you sat on the couch in your living room. taesan walked past his mom and your mom reuniting and appeared around the corner, meeting the sight of you scrolling on your phone on the couch, smiling as you texted someone.
"hey." your gaze immediately fixed on taesan. he had grown up well, his jawline defined and lips tinted pink. his mouth had sort of a natural pout to it, and his eyes were a pretty shade of chocolate. his hair was long, bangs growing out and parted down the middle to fall down his ears and frame his face.
you made note of his figure as well, shoulders broad and torso narrowed into his waist. he was tall, much taller than you'd thought this morning.
standing at the end of the couch you were on, his hands were stuffed in his pockets as he took you in.
you'd also grown up quite a bit in the past couple years. your once shorter hair was longer and flowed down your shoulders, with partially lightened streaks sprinkled throughout from swimming.
you were also quite toned from how active you were, and taesan's eyes traced the lines down your neck as you straightened your posture.
"hi." you replied, lazy voice contrasting your stiff demeanor. he eyed your dressy top and jeans before looking down at his old band tee and ripped jeans.
"was i supposed to wear something nicer?" he asked sheepishly, shoulders slumping in relief as you shook your head no and smiled at him softly.
dinner wasn't really anything unordinary, mainly consisting of your parents conversing with taesan's mother as you and the boy ate in silence next to each other. at one point, you heard your name tossed around in conversation, looking up in response.
"y/n! you and taesan should carpool to school together!" you fought to suppress a groan and eye roll as you watched your moms cheerily converse about the arrangement.
you enjoyed your drives to and from school alone, giving you some peace and solitude. no more of that, i guess, you thought bitterly.
++
"you ride to school in silence?" taesan asked after swinging your car door open and stepping in. you yawned loudly. early mornings never really agreed with you.
"i don't really have time to listen to music." taesan raised his eyebrow at this.
"don't have time? what are you, the president?" surprisingly, taesan's quips made you crack a smile. considering how you'd felt about him before, you figured riding with him would be a bother.
as you got to know taesan better, though, you realized there was much more to your neighbor than met the eye. he introduced you to his favorite bands and showed you various musical genres. he taught you about a new genre every week, on a personal mission to help you find your favorite. you enjoyed watching him geek out about music, and you began to learn which artists and genres you liked the most.
eventually, taesan would come wait for your practices to end, often sitting in the bleachers and working on homework with headphones shoved in his ears.
you'd always bound up to him after, breathing shallowly as you tugged his earbuds to let him know you were done. he found you to be like a puppy at times like that, panting and waiting for him to pack up his stuff so the two of you could return home.
"is volleyball hard?" he asked one day on your drive home. this week was indie, a soft steve lacy song floating through the air as you turned to look at him.
"not really, it's pretty simple." taesan's face told you he disagreed. before he open his mouth retaliate, you spoke.
"i can teach you."
spending time with taesan was easy. sometimes, you felt like you were going crazy, pulling any excuse from the book to spend time with him. the two of you clicked so well, something that caught you off guard much more than you'd like to admit.
++
the semester passed by quicker than you could blink, and suddenly you were swept up in end of the year preparations. before you knew it, you were graduating.
pulling the cap over your hair, you turned to your parents.
"how do i look?" they both smiled happily at you, mirroring your own bright grin.
the ceremony felt like a dream, or like you were watching yourself out of your own body. diploma in hand, you were now outside, taking pictures with your various teammates and friends and teachers. at one point, while you were snapping pictures with your friend, belle, you caught a glimpse of raven black hair in the crowd.
glancing over, you saw taesan taking pictures with a small group of boys, the same ones you'd seen him around school with. there were also a couple of guys also looked about your age but weren't in caps and gowns.
either way, taesan's smile shone brighter and grasped your attention more than anything else. his eyes shrunk into crescents and his teeth were pearly white; if you squinted, a halo would probably appear over his head. you watched with a small smile as his friends pulled at his cap and ruffled his hair affectionately.
eventually, the two of your moms found each other and you were being pushed next to taesan to take a picture together.
"smile, kids!" you couldn't help but smile at their giddiness. looking up at taesan, you saw him chuckling as well. his arm wrapped around your side as your parent's cameras flashed.
"you both look so lovely together!" your face reddened with embarrassment at your mom's words, and you quickly slapped her arm to shut her up. taesan was left watching you walk away from him, eyes trained on the way your hair swung and how the wind ruffled your gown.
++
with school finally out, summer was in full swing. you didn't have any plans in particular, wanting to make the most of the next few months before the next phase of your life.
your mother seemed to have other plans, though. while you could tell she was less than happy with your lack of a boyfriend or even a fling throughout high school, she wasn't even trying to hide it anymore.
"y/n honey, mrs. jung's son is single. he's a sweet boy, you two should go out!"
"mom i said n--"
"and you're free thursday evening, perfect! i just texted his mom back!"
the date went as you expected -- painfully awkward. the two of you simply didn't mesh, conversation always fading off into thick silence. your frustration with your mother certainly didn't help either, you thought as you accidentally slammed the boy's car door when he picked you up.
falling onto your bed, you sighed and yanked your phone out of your purse, calling taesan. he was probably working on some beats right now anyways. the phone rung for a few seconds before you heard his raspy voice on the other side of the line.
"what's up?" he spoke lazily. you could hear the squeak of his chair as he leaned back in it.
"my mom sent me on a blind date." hearing him snicker at the other end of the line, you frowned.
"no way, how'd it go?" you answered with a loud ugh, causing taesan to fully burst out laughing.
"terrible, it was so fucking awkwa-- stop laughing asshole!" you cursed at taesan's chuckles.
"when did your mom decide to be your wingwoman?" you groaned, rolling over in your bed and fiddling with the end of your blanket.
"i don't know, but i hope this is the last one." you sighed in response.
++
unfortunately, fate was not on your side; the date with mrs jung's son was only the beginning of your mother's antics. your friday night plans now routinely consisted of an uncomfortable dinner date and ranting to taesan about it after.
ringing his doorbell, you waited for someone to answer while scrolling through your phone. you deleted your date, gyuvin's, number and hoped to god he picked up on your disinterest and didn't text you again.
looking up as the door opened, you were met with taesan's mother. mrs. han pulled you into a warm hug as she asked how your night was.
"ugh, don't ask, mrs han. i don't know how many more of these dates i can do." she smiled fondly at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you two walked into the house.
"i'm sure you'll find the right guy eventually sweetie, he might be right under your nose." mrs. han elbowed you slightly, her expression playful. you laughed and kicked off your shoes.
"is taesan in his room?" she nodded and teasingly shooed you up the stairs.
taesan heard your slow steps up the stairs, not bothering to look up from his laptop until you were standing in his doorway, arms crossed. you were silently waiting: for acknowledgement and permission to come in. you knew you were always welcome into the boy's room, but taesan silently appreciated the way you respected his space.
"hey." he spoke, smiling and pausing the track playing from his laptop. he had been mixing, as usual. the second his voice left his lips, your shoulders slumped and you threw yourself face down onto his bed, groaning.
"i hate my life." you grumbled, the sound of your voice muffled by taesan's duvet. he chuckled, patting the back of your head playfully.
"there, there." he murmured sarcastically, and you rolled over so you could smack his hand away. taesan looked far more comfortable than you, in his pajama pants and a sweatshirt rather than a tight, uncomfortable blouse and skinny jeans.
the boy listened to you like a puppy as you delved into all the unfortunate details of your night.
"he showed up on a bike?" taesan's face was nearly red as he fought to not laugh. your already grumpy frown only deepened further, and you brought your hands up to massage your temples gently.
taesan's eyes locked on your fingers, mesmerized by your slow movements. moving his gaze down further, he quietly watched your muscles in your hand and forearm tense and contract with your ministrations.
the boy wouldn't tell you this, but he loved the nicer tops you wore, he loved when he could see the way your collarbone sat and trace the delicate curve of your neck with his eyes.
"taesan?" your quiet voice broke him out of his stupor of thought. his eyes refocused on your face, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. he hoped his hair was covering his reddened ears.
"why don't you just tell your mom you don't wanna go on dates anymore?" he spoke lazily, ignoring the way you narrowed your eyes, still trying to read into his previous glances. you shook your head, turning onto your back to face the ceiling. taesan was still propped against the headboard, his laptop and headphones now set aside.
"she won't listen. i know it's because she cares about me and thinks she's helping me out but i'm really tired of the whole routine." taesan's eyes softened. besides your teammates at school and him, you really weren't the most social person out there, blooming the most in the company of those you cared about the most.
taesan could tell the dates had taken a toll on you; the anxious preparation and stiff conversation wore you out much more than you let on. taesan was glad you trusted him with your thoughts and feelings -- he always wanted to be there for you through anything.
the boy moved forward so he was leaning over you slightly and nudged your shoulder with his knee.
"this is gonna sound really stupid, but you could just tell your parents that we're dating." you wanted to laugh but no words left your mouth, mind frozen trying to process what he was saying.
truthfully, what took you more off guard was the soft look in taesan's eyes as he looked down at you through his fluffy bangs. sitting up, you looked for any hint of playfulness or sarcasm in his face.
"really?" you asked confusedly. you hoped you didn't sound off put by the idea, the last thing you wanted was to hurt the feelings of the boy trying to help you.
"i mean, it would get your mom off your back, right? plus, she'd be pretty happy to know it was me of all people that you're with." with that, you smiled and rolled your eyes while shoving taesan lightly.
"oh because you're the hottest guy to ever walk this earth." you laughed as taesan sulked.
"that's not what i meant! you're such an asshole sometimes." taesan's pouted in the most exaggerated way possible, making you chuckle even harder. he was happy you were smiling again.
"besides your little ego trip, i do think it's a good idea." you spoke quietly, slightly embarrassed at how much you liked the idea of taesan looking out for you.
the two of you didn't really set rules, just that you'd hold hands and act a little more affectionate when the time called for it. to be frank, you and taesan didn't have to do much more than you already did; the two of you hung out pretty often anyways, now opting for calling your get togethers "dates" for show.
your mom was obviously thrilled when you told her about you and taesan. she went on a whole tangent about how she just knew the two of you would finally realize you liked each other.
what surprised you more was taesan's mom's reaction. she was not one bit surprised, even going as far as giving both of you a knowing look as you shyly stood next to each other in the kitchen while she brewed her coffee.
you were puzzled, not only by her meaningful gaze at the two of you but also at the redness flushing onto taesan's neck and cheeks. you told yourself he was just embarrassed that his mom was acting so blunt.
friday came along, and for the first time in a month, you were free. no stupid blind date, no painful conversation that made you want to rip your throat out and use it as a garnish for your pasta.
"we should celebrate." you blurted into the silent air. you and taesan were both laying on your floor, music playing from your laptop on your desk as the two of you sat in each others' company. taesan was writing in his journal, probably working on song lyrics, while you read a book. looking up from his notes, taesan clicked his pen and smiled at you.
"what do you wanna do?" you didn't have to look at taesan to hear the smile in his voice. while the two of you already hung out pretty much every day, it felt like the two of you were attached by the hip ever since your arrangement began.
taesan might've been going crazy, but he was enjoying your company too much.
he realized something was wrong with him when he starting smiling while taking out the trash; all because taking out the trash meant he could glance over at your house and wonder what you were up to.
what is going on with me? he thought to himself as he bumped his forehead on the lid of the trashcan, trying to snap himself out of his you-induced daze.
"wanna go see a movie?" you suggested timidly, waiting for taesan's reaction. you don't why you were so worried, you knew he was always down to do anything, but for some reason you wanted to pick something you know he'd like.
"can we get slushies?" taesan shot back, already getting up from the floor and reaching a hand to help you up.
++
"your parking sucks," the boy in your passenger seat quipped as you nearly took up two parking spots in the cinema's parking lot. looking around, the lot was nearly empty anyways. you turned and flicked his forehead, laughing as he whined dramatically.
"shut up, idiot." you watched taesan make an offended face and grab his chest theatrically.
"idiot? is that how you treat your poor boyfriend." you laughed at his loud gasping. reaching over, you ruffled your hand in his hair.
"i might be nicer if my poor boyfriend was the one driving us." you teased jokingly.
"fuck you, my parents needed the car!"
++
stepping past the ticket counter, the two of you made your way to concessions, looking for snacks for the movie.
“i got it.” taesan mumbled as he took your drink cup from your hands and walked up to the counter. you followed him with a teasing smile on your face, watching him pay for both of your drinks and a shared popcorn.
“i’m swooning” you joked as he took the receipt from the cashier and handed your cup back to you. he rolled his eyes in response, muttering something along the lines of you being annoying. you knew he didn’t mean a word of it, a small smile painted on his face as the two of you walked over to the drink station.
as you filled up your slushie, you suddenly felt taesan behind you. he quickly brought a hand to rest on your waist and bent to lay his head on your shoulder.
confusion overtook you. but more than that, you could feel your chest heating up and breaths shallowing. the skin of taesan’s chin rested on your shoulder and his breath tickled your ear gently; you had to physically restrain yourself from shivering.
after popping a cap on your drink and grabbing a straw, you turned to look at the boy behind you. you were already near whiplash from how close he was to you, his chest nearly touching yours.
“what was that about?” you tried to sound as unaffected as possible, hoping he couldn’t hear your heartbeat thrumming under your skin.
taesan looked at you for a second and looked over his shoulder again before taking a step back. his hands were shoved in his pockets and he bit his lip nervously.
“i think i saw my mom’s friend.” your eyes widened, tilting your chin to peek past his shoulder. if she was actually there, she was gone, probably in one of the theaters.
++
the two of you found your seats and your body finally cooled down. the more you thought about it, taesan's whole act wasn't really necessary. it wasn't like anyone was really suspecting of the two of you lying and the two of you looked enough like a boyfriend and girlfriend when you walked around.
sneaking a glance at your "boyfriend," you had never wished to know what he was thinking more than that moment. were the past 5 minutes replaying in his brain over and over again like they were in yours?
you couldn't even pay attention to the movie that was playing, mind and thoughts wholly dedicated to the boy eating popcorn next to you. the skin on your sides almost burned to feel his hands on them again.
clenching your fist, you fought to push the increasingly inappropriate thoughts about taesan away. you didn't understand why it was affecting you so drastically, you and taesan had been holding hands and hugging with no problem.
the way taesan's tall frame towered over you and had nearly wrapped around you as he rested on your shoulder made you head spin. he'd felt so warm behind you, like a blanket draping over you.
shivering slightly at the thought, you caught taesan's attention again.
"are you cold?" he whispered quietly, already taking off his zip up to give to you. you shook your head frantically, slightly horrified at him noticing your odd behaviour and misinterpreting it.
unfortunately for you, it was already too late and the boy draped the jacket gently over your legs, innocently smiling at you before looking back at the screen. you were absolutely certain there was no way you were surviving the next hour.
you were now fully wearing taesan's jacket as the two of you walked back to your car. you were trying to focus on anything besides the boy's warmth seeping from his hoodie into your skin.
taesan could tell something was off, eyes lingering on your slightly stiffened shoulders. at the same time, he was thinking about how he enjoyed the sight of you in his jacket a little too much for his liking. the sleeves reached past your wrists, almost to your fingers.
++
"did you like the movie?" taesan asked softly, glancing at you curiously.
you both were now sitting in your car, a slow rnb song playing softly from the stereo of your car. taesan's body turned slightly to face you. you, on the other hand, were staring straight ahead, not wanting make eye contact with him in fear of the visceral reaction you might have.
"um, yeah, that one girl was funny." you didn't even know why you were pretending you remembered the damn movie. your mind had been on the boy sitting next to you the whole time.
"you don't need to lie, y/n." your eyes widened at the boy's words. you were done for. taesan leaned forward, tilting his body and head so he could look you in the eyes as you stared intensely at your shoes. he continued.
"i can tell something's on your mind. what're you thinking about?" the boy asked gently, noticing your clenched fists.
"you." you blurted out before you could stop yourself. there was no going back. as the feelings you didn't realize you'd been holding for taesan flooded your mind, you couldn't drown them any longer. hearing a small gasp, you forced yourself to continue
"i know we're just friends, i'm sorry --" you began before taesan's voice sliced through the air, louder and stable than before.
"don't..." your stomach dropped, he definitely hated you know. you almost felt sick, praying he didn't think you were taking advantage of his kindness. he'd offered up this whole arrangement as a friend for your sake and sanity, and you went and fell for him.
"don't apologize for that, ever." taesan finally found the words he was looking for, and you looked up confusedly to see his eyes boring into you. his gaze was heavy, you wanted to shrivel underneath it.
his eyes ran over every part of you he could see, across your eyes and lips and down your neck and along your shoulders. they trailed down your arms that were wrapped in his jacket and brushed over your exposed legs. your tense fists and eyes screwed shut didn't go unnoticed either.
you couldn't bear to keep your eyes open any longer, silently begging him to do or say anything else.
"what does that mean?" you muttered, eyes still shut. taesan's stomach flipped and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you so nervous, all because of him.
"i've been thinking about you, too." your eyes shot open in surprise, seeing taesan smiling at you warmly. his large hand reached over the console to wrap around your still clenched fist, his fingers working to unravel your hand and intertwine yours with his.
he placed his other hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him completely. you held your breath as his touch creeped up the curve of your shoulder, hand fully cupping the back of your neck. you wordlessly leaned into his touch, tongue coming out to wet your lips for what you knew was coming.
taesan thought you looked beautiful like this; the only thing illuminating the two of you was the glow of the dashboard, the light wrapped around you like a halo. your lips shone in the dim light, glossed over and beckoning to the boy.
your lungs felt they were on fire as you waited for taesan to something, anything.
"taesan..." your shaky voice was no louder than a whisper. the boy finally snapped out of his dazed state, leaning over the console to meet your lips with his.
taesan was as gentle as he could be with you, eyes closed and plush lips pressing against yours softly. the kiss lasted for a moment before he pulled away, opening his eyes slowly. while he was aching to go further with you than just a simple peck, the last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm you, knowing this was your first kiss.
you, on the other hand, had the front of his shirt pinched between your fingers, pulling him back to you within a second. you melted against his lips, eyes fluttering shut as your face grew hotter by the second.
taesan's hand that was holding yours moved to squeeze your thigh. you gasped lightly against his lips and his tongue moved past your lips, exploring your warm mouth.
your head was spinning from the unfamiliar sensations, eyes nearly rolling back as taesan used his hand behind your neck to cup the back of your head and tilt your face. your lips moved together in an unspoken synchrony; taesan could've sworn he saw stars when you bit his lip, groaning into your mouth softly.
the low music from the stereo was now joined by the lewd noises coming from your mouths. the two of you continued making out, your hand now gripping taesan's bicep while his fingers dancing along your shoulders.
you finally pulled away to catch your breath, opening your eyes slowly. a string of spit stretched between your and taesan's lips, lit up by the dashboard lights. taesan felt his stomach tighten as you wiped your mouth on the back of your hand, never breaking eye contact with him.
it wasn't until a group of kids your age walked past your car that the two of you remembered where exactly you were -- a public parking lot.
"we should get out of here." you mumbled as you switched the car's gear into drive. taesan simply nodded, still reeling from what just happened. as you pulled out of the parking lot, he licked his lips, hoping to get another taste of you. or what was left of you, at least,
the ride home was quiet, the only sound being the music from your stereo. the movie theater wasn't too far from your neighborhood anyways; your car pulled into your driveway a mere 5 minutes later.
you moved extra slowly as you switched the car into park and turned off the ignition, hoping taesan would take the opportunity to say something. the boy could read you like a book, practically feeling the anticipation and nervousness radiating from your body.
"what do you want to do now?" unfortunately, taesan did not say anything close to what you were expecting. you coughed, caught by surprise while also stalling so you could think of a response.
"i mean we both like each other, right?" you asked, face reddening within a second. taesan smiled and nodded. you continued.
"are you going to ask me to be your girlfriend?" you inquired teasingly. taesan playfully scoffed.
"why do i have to be the one to ask?" he whined, eliciting a giggle from you.
"i thought you were a gentleman." taesan rolled his eyes at your jab, reaching over to grab your hand and intertwine your fingers with his.
"y/n, will you be my real, not pretend girlfriend?" taesan spoke dramatically, like he was in front of an audience. you laughed even harder, fake swooning as he kissed the back of your hand.
"hmm can i think about it?" you nearly lost it watching the dramatic betrayal on taesan's face. he shoved your shoulder lightly, smiling as he crossed his arms stubbornly.
"i'm kidding, i would love to be your real, not pretend girlfriend." you sealed the deal by leaning forward to press a kiss to the boy's cheek, making a loud smacking sound that made the two of you laugh.
"i can't believe it only took you a week to succumb to me" taesan quipped as the two of you stepped out of the car.
"shut up mr. i've been thinking about you too." you shot back, jabbing the boy with your elbow lightly.
the two of you bantered and held hands in your front yard, the same place where you had fatefully met 12 years ago. and it was taesan's mom who once again beckoned him back, sticking her head out of the front door of the boy's house and calling his name.
"coming!"
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