#be kind and if someone accuses you of something block them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crimson-rain-smoked-flower · 2 years

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I’m not trying to attack you, but do you know that proshipper means someone who supports and romanticizes pedophilia, incest, and abuse? Your reblog on that post seems to read that you think antis just hate on people for having ships they don’t like. But it’s completely different than that. Just looking on the proshipper side of Tumblr and the internet and you can see people happily shipping children and adults and making nsfw content of such things.

i appreciate that you're not being outright hostile, but i have to say, that on its own put you above basically every anti i've interacted with.

i understand where antis are coming from, i really do. there are a lot of things on the internet that make me deeply uncomfortable, including the minor/adult ships that you mention. i don't want to anything to do with those kinds of ships and i would be happiest if i never saw them again. which is why i'm proship.

nine times out of ten, if i see that kind of ship brought up on my dash, it's because i was following an anti without realizing it, and they brought it up unprompted and untagged, to talk about how bad it is that they exist. they are the ones putting that kind of content in front of my face and making it harder to avoid.

the thing about people who ship those ships is that they're generally very aware that not everyone wants to see that kind of content, and so they tag it. they make sideblogs to talk about it. they don't go out of their way to shove it in people's faces. that means i, and everyone else who doesn't like it, can avoid it.

what antis want is for it to not exist at all. they want the tags to be purged and blocked, and for anyone who uses those tags to have their accounts deleted. and sure, that might get rid of some of it, but do you know what would happen to the rest? it would stop being tagged. people who don't want to see it wouldn't have the tools to avoid it. this isn't just a hypothetical, that's what's happened any time a fan space has tried to do that.

that's not even getting into the rabbit hole of what should be banned and what shouldn't. obviously any content that depicts real children or real life abuse shouldn't exist and shouldn't be allowed to be posted, but basically any platform that people use already enforces those policies, and there's not much of a slippery slope to go down there. if it involves real living breathing people being abused, it's bad. end of discussion.

but the same can't be said for fiction. ask ten antis for a specific list of all the content that should be banned, and you'll get ten different answers. what about kink? what about roleplay? what about horror and murder and anything that involves fictional characters being graphically tortured? what about people using art to process terrible things that have happened to them? what about art that uses dark themes as a horror element? if you just want to ban anything questionable to anyone, that's the line of thinking that gets any mention of lgbt existence banned. and again, this isn't just a hypothetical, this has happened before, and that's generally where it leads.

i know, from personal experience, that antis do, in fact, send harassment to people just for shipping things they don't like. i've gotten accused of absolutely vile shit for shipping two fictional characters who were both consenting adults. i've seen ship wars turn into moral battlegrounds, over ships that an average person wouldn't bat an eye at.

the thing about "romanticization" is a whole other can of worms. the anti logic goes like this: if someone sees something (even if it's very obviously fictional) in a positive light enough times, they will start thinking it's okay in real life, and go on to hurt real people. the problem with that is that it's just. blatantly untrue.

if it were true every horror movie fan would be a serial killer, every person that studies dark media would be an unhinged psychopath, and everyone who is into ddlg would be a pedophile. but they're not. they just aren't. people have directed movies just as fucked up as the darkest shit on ao3, and are still capable of being normal human beings who know right from wrong in real life.

even if someone is that impressionable, scrubbing away the existence of every piece of questionable content isn't going to solve their problem, because they're still going to be vulnerable to con men, scams, and cultists. the only thing that would actually materially help someone like that is developing their own morals and critical thinking.

children are also more impressionable, and there's a lot of content that's not suitable for them, but that doesn't mean that content shouldn't exist. it just means that they should stick to spaces designed for them (which most social media sites, tumblr included, are not) or, if they're old enough to be responsible for their experience online, they, or a trusted adult in their lives, should block and filter out things that they aren't comfortable with.

which is what everyone on the internet should be doing. it's what i do, and it's made the internet a much more pleasant place to be. and it's why i sometimes worry for antis mental health, especially teenagers, because they're being told it's right and moral to seek out content that makes them uncomfortable and to engage with the people making it. and that's just. really bad. it's not good for the creators that they're harassing obviously, but it's also really bad for them! it's not healthy to seek out things that make you feel bad, and it's a terrible internet safety lesson to teach minors that it's okay for them to seek out and engage with people making adult content.

individual harassment and crusading is never going to succeed at removing dark content from the internet. it just isn't. at best you might get a small percentage of people who create that content to stop sharing it, at worst you're just going to make people stop tagging it, and either way, you're exposing yourself to things that make you feel bad, when you don't have to.

if you want to materially change the type of content you see, you can. the block button is your friend, use it liberally. same with content filtering and tag blocking.

#oops this got really long #cd.ask #proship #disk horse #tw pedophila mention #uhhh what to tag #tw shipping discourse #this doesn't even get into the antis that i've seen proudly professing that they care more about fictional characters than real people #because i don't know how to explain to someone that real humans matter more than cartoon characters #or how to avoid content on platforms other than tumblr bc frankly thats a lot of the reason i don't use them #i don't trust an algorithm #also im turning anon off after posting this so if you want to send me hate you cant be a coward about it #also be prepared to get blocked and ignored #the only reason i answered this person is bc they weren't being hostile

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theealbatross · 4 months

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Sebastian x Reader: i love you, it's ruining my life (One Shot)

Plot | Sebastian has the worst insomnia known to man and you are not dating him. Tags | none, fluff, slytherin!reader, bad english accent attempt by me, repressed feelings, unhealthy attachment, codependency, teenagers trying to process trauma together, mentions of nightmares, they are both 17 years old [A/N : FUCK JK ROWLING!!!!!!! Also I just needed to write something and somehow a depressed Slytherin boy was just the one to cure my insane writer's block. Enjoy!]

I am not dating Sebastian Sallow, is what you kept saying yet no one seems to ever believe you. Even Natty, bless her kind soul, gave you a look so incredulous as the words went out of your mouth that you couldn’t help but be confused yourself -- were you dating Sebastian?

“I’m not trying to be nosy, my friend. I’m just concerned.”

“About what?” This has been the third person this month with that same irritating expression on their face. Pity.

“I thought … you were always together that I just assumed there was … something.”

You blinked, trying not to let your face slip, afraid that your ever observant friend would read too much into each emotion.

“Well, there’s nothing. So you and the others can –”

“There are others?!”

You widened her eyes, telling Natty to drop it and she wisely did. “The rest of you can stop reporting his rendezvous to me. Understood?”

“There you are!”

Merlin, will the cruel gods of fate ever give you a break?

The deep voice from the door cut through half of the conversations in your table as Sebastian jogged towards you. “Morning, pet.”

He casually grabbed your head gently, pressing a kiss on top of it, before settling down by straddling the chair so he was facing you. “Hey Natty, got lost?”

It wasn’t unheard of for students to not stick to the assigned tables on their houses but it was still odd, especially for someone like Natty who much preferred the company of like-minded people. Always said that the quiet and whispers in the Slytherin table made her uneasy.

Natty looked from you, to him, to the arms that was hidden under the table but was no doubt placed on your waist, subtly but insistently pulling you closer. You silently pleaded for her to ignore it which she thankfully did with a sigh.

“Not at all, Sebastian. Just trying to keep our friend company before you undoubtedly steal her away for the day.”

He didn’t even pretend to be offended by the accusation, only chuckling good-heartedly. “You can be welcome to tag along just for today.”

“Wouldn’t want to intrude. And with the trouble the two of you get into I’d be grounded by my mother for the rest of my life.”

The three of them laughed at that. The conversation thankfully flowing easier and away from the initial topic. Once Ominis arrived and Poppy was called over it was like fifth-year again. The initial circle you had formed has always been a source of comfort, no longer having to have your guard up all the time especially as easy conversation flowed between each other.

“I got some new books for you, just got delivered an hour ago. We should read it tonight.”

You fed him a piece of bread in your hands, knowing that his growing appetite has not been satiated by the plate he made for himself but he would be too lazy to make a new one and would just rather take bits and pieces from your own. “Just for me, huh?”

He grabbed a tuft of grapes before feeding you one as well before he demolished the entire thing. You couldn’t help but giggle when he spat out a small branch that managed to sneak into his mouth.

“It’s that new muggle series you love, paid off one of Ominis’ servant to line for it so you wouldn’t have to sneak out of Hogwarts like I know you had planned to tonight.”

You could feel your face heating up at the fact that he knew you too damn well. “You know I don’t like you spending money on me, Sebastian.”

“Well, you’re gonna be reading it to me so technically I’m spending money for me.”

You gave him a look but he quickly evaded it by feeding you another pair of grapes.

Sebastian had been haunted by nightmares after last year’s events. Ones so bad that the nurse feared he would be a bit too dependent on sleeping potions at such a young age. Thankfully, the two of you had found a solution together, after a late night studying in the Undercroft reading your notes aloud hoping it would stick into your head a bit better – you had turned to find your companion snoring away beside you.

At first, the two of you thought it was the history lesson that put him right to slumber so you borrowed tons of history books in the library for him to read before he slept but an enchanted note later and you were dragging your sleepy self and a blanket out of your chambers as you read about the History of Magic in his bed.

It was that night that you had been eternally grateful that he had no other roommate but Ominis. Especially when you found out that Sebastian was apparently a horrible koala when asleep.

“That’s just –”

“What are you two whispering about?”

You actually jumped, pushing Sebastian away as if the soft voice behind them reminded you of how they had actually drifted closer than what was appropriate.

“Arieta,” Sebastian greeted her with a raised brow, seemingly confused why the Ravenclaw was this far off the room not even all that affected that his new girlfriend just caught him being a bit too comfortable with another girl.

“Sebby!” she shrieked prettily, quickly recovering and pulling on his arm. “We have History of Magic together, remember? You know I can’t survive that class without your shoulder to sleep on.”

She can hear Ominis choke on a laugh yet Arieta shot you a look like it was your fault.

“I, uh,” Sebastian turned to your table, now fully aware that everyone was staring at him with various expression on their faces. “Right, let’s go.”

Ever the gentleman, Sebastian was quick to grab the books in Arieta’s arm as she held on to his hand and dragged him towards the doors.

“Arieta, huh, wouldn’t have pegged her as territorial one,” Natty chuckled, you chucked a grape at her. “What? I am only speaking my mind. Might have to watch out for that one or she might just drag poor Sebastian away from –”

Just before she finished her sentence Sebastian came bounding down the path once again stopping just beside you, catching his breath. “Hey, you’re mine tonight, okay? No adventures.”

His wording left so much to be misinterpreted that even Poppy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, damn near resembling those mooncalfs she loves so much.

"I stand corrected," Natty muttered.

“Sebby!” Arieta screamed at the end of the hallway.

Merlin’s beard.

“I’m coming!” He threw her an impatient look before holding on to your chin so you were looking at him and forcing you to nod. “No adventures.”

This time the embarrassment of the absolute mess that was unfolding before your unfinished breakfast have overwhelmed your brain that you could only nod with him.

“No adventures.”

Sebastian smiled, one of those real, bright ones that makes your body malfunction and your heart to stop beating. Pressing one last kiss on the top of your head and managing to wave to your shared friends he was off and gone through the double doors.

The entire table was left in silence and you had hoped they would let this go but Natty couldn’t give you that mercy as she cleared her throat.

“Well, now I got even more questions.”

You’re not dating Sebastian Sallow you just think about him a lot.

You weren’t as daft as the rest of them have probably assumed. You did think there was a lot more than friendship between Sebastian and you. But with all the things that the two of you had been through it was difficult to pinpoint what it exactly was aside from their unusually intense loyalty to each other.

Was it a trauma bond? Was it just their kindred spirits refusing to let the one soul who understood them go? Did everything that they went through, the secrets they keep, the curses they threw to protect each other become the bloody ribbon that held the unhealthy attachment they had to each other? It could be love. But it could be a whole lot more complicated than that.

That’s what they were. They were complicated.

After the nightmare that was your fifth year the two of you had kept to yourselves with Ominis in tow, trying to keep as low as profile as possible and give your poor professors a break. With your newfound infamy as the ‘Hero of Hogwarts’ (blergh) and the dark secret you three were desperately keeping for Sebastian, the best you could hope for was to blend in with the rest of the nameless students in Hogwarts.

That agreement got shot into hell when your dear friend Sebastian Sallow proved to be one of the best beaters in Hogwarts’ long, long history. It was a dare that exploded in your own face to try out and irritate Imelda but when he had accidentally proven to be a bit too good at it their mutual friend clutched at him with her demanding claws and put him through the ringer until he got spat out decent enough to be one of the soldiers to secure the honor of their noble house and win the Quidditch cup this year.

Piled on top of that development was his connection to the Gaunt family, the Hero of Hogwarts, and the rumor of his hefty trust fund waiting for him the moment he turns 18 – Sebastian Sallow, just as the gods intended, became the most eligible bachelor of his age.

And thus your hell begun.

The silent charm he always had with him grew with his stature. He clearly enjoyed the attention after having hid his pretty bloody face behind dangerous books all year last year that it was almost like he was compensating for the hearts he could’ve broken. Every moon it was a different girl looped around his arms and every month it was a different friend reporting to you that your presumed ‘boyfriend’ was found snogging a goddamn Gryffindor in the Three Broomsticks.

It was annoying, confusing, and you were getting sick of it.

“Over here.”

Before you could find the source of the voice you knew all too well, a door had already opened and you were quickly pulled into an empty room – well, room was being generous as it was more of a storage space than anything.

“Sebastian!”

“Shh,” you gawked when his opened palm muffled your voice as he firmly presses it on your mouth. The unmistakable sounds of footsteps and a softer call of his name echoed the hallway outside the door. When the footsteps faded and disappeared, he had the nerve to give you a lopsided grin that turned your face red in irritation. Definitely in irritation.

Nothing quite like being forced to face the boy who had been running around your head all day.

“Sorry bout that, pet,” he chuckled, leaning on the wall an arms-length way from you. “I’m not too good with break-ups, especially when they say no.”

“Must be horrifying,” you sniped shortly, also pressing your back on the nearest wall to give you as much space as possible – it would just be absolutely mortifying to faint because your heart was beating too fast it was like it was trying to escape. “Are you gonna explain why you’ve kidnapped me in this dingy room?”

“Come on now, don’t be short with me. I just wanted to hang out with you ‘s all.”

“You want to hang out with me …. Inside a closet?”

He shrugged, “I never see you anymore these days.”

Ah, the nightmares must be back. She tries to swallow down the bitter taste in her mouth.

“That’s not my fault, Sebastian.”

At least he looked guilty. And absolutely miserable.

In the few weeks you had taken your eyes off him it would seem he had another growth spurt. Do boys just not stop growing ever? Looking up at him was starting to get painful. Plus, all those drills they run to prepare for every game had done nothing but well for his physique. You couldn’t help but run your eyes to his broad chest and shoulders before you caught yourself and nearly screamed in horror.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Rough hands grabbed one of yours. He bent his knees so he could look in your eyes as you now outright refuse to meet his, in anger for the absolute shit friend he had been the past months or in embarrassment that you so casually checked him out you’re not quite sure. “I … I got distracted but I missed you. You know I prefer your company over any other.”

Those damned brown eyes, not even the poor light in the windowless room could dull its effect on you. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Your harsh words did not match with the growing smile on your face you failed to suppress. He mirrored your grin, “Do you still have classes?”

You shook your head.

He damn near vibrated in glee. Merlin, you did miss him.

“Let me steal you away.”

In a flash, Sebastian grabbed a hold of your hand to survey the hall one last time before dragging you out of the room and into the nearest Floo. You barely caught the surprise and anger in his ex-girlfriend’s eyes as she gawked by the stairs before you got swallowed up by a green flash of powder.

“Boathouse.”

You’re not dating Sebastian Sallow because this is definitely not a date.

You wouldn’t think the Boathouse would be a romantic place but with the lack of students, the dimming sun and a gorgeous boy leading you in the inside of it for privacy – you couldn’t help but think that anyone who would pass by would be well within their right to think you had become another notch in Sebastian Sallow’s belt.

You’re not sure how you feel about that. A greater witch would’ve been offended but maybe you’re no better than the knots in his belt.

“Sit here.”

Sebastian spread out a worn-out black robe on the ground, patting on it expectantly. Before you could do it yourself, he was already kneeling beside you and removing your shoes and socks. The intimate act forced you to hold your breath, making sure you controlled your face so your jaw doesn’t fall to the floor as he slowly pulled on your socks, gently plopping them on the edge and letting the Black Lake’s water tickle your feet as they dangled.

When you were settled, he nonchalantly laid his head down on your lap. Gods, help you.

“Comfortable, aren’t you?”

He made a dramatic noise of satisfaction, even wiggling in your lap to show his assent. A giggle slipped out of your mouth at the absolute gall of him, your hands naturally falling in his soft, thick, brown hair to play with it.

“What had you been up to, pet?” he mumbles, eyes never leaving your face although you find yourself unable to do the same as you opted to look around the architecture of the Boathouse you rarely visit.

“Nothing much,” you shrugged. “Although I did find that swimming in the Forbidden Forest’s Lake was surprisingly relaxing.”

He hummed, not even surprised at your little antics when you leave his line of sight. The boy had definitely pulled you out of worse situations than roaming around the Forbidden Forest. “You should take me some time. Merlin knows relaxing is what I need.”

A scoff escaped your mouth as you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, right after I duel your newest girlfriend for the honor of getting to take you out.”

He poked your side at that, “As entertaining that would be you know all you have to do is send me an owl and I’d trek up to Maurenweem for you.”

Your face clearly showed you didn't believe him and he frowned. Carefully, you ran a finger in-between his brows where a frown formed to relax it.

At this angle you could see the toll the sleepless nights he must’ve been having had on him. If the bags on his eyes was any indication it must’ve been a few nights now. You ran your hands on his hair earning you a satisfied hum as he dangled his hand on the edge of the ledge to play with the water below.

“When was the last time you slept?”

He popped one eye open but your gentle touch proved too much as he closed it again with an even longer hum. “A few hours last night.”

“You should’ve woken me up.”

He gently shook his head, grabbing your free hand so he can hold it by his stomach.

“I didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Oh please, Sebastian.”

He chuckled at that, gripping on your hand tightly as he let out a heavy breath. “The nightmares … I thought it’s been better. Barely had any a few months ago. But now it’s just gotten worse.”

The confession broke your heart. Sebastian was not a vulnerable person; despite his usually easy and cheerful demeanor he was quick to wall himself in at the first sign of trouble. You would bet galleons of gold he still feels horrible of all the things he put you through and it was truly in desperation when he had called you over to help him through his insomnia. Which was also why you had welcomed the responsibility with open arms.

“Care to tell? Is it still about Anne?”

His estranged twin has been forefront of most of his darkest nightmares but he shook his head again and for that you were thankful he was spared that at least. “Solomon? Ominis?”

He opened his eyes; it was full of overflowing guilt and fear. And when it seemed he could no longer keep it to himself he sighed, “It’s about you. That’s the reason why I couldn’t …”

The revelation had your blood freezing. “What?”

He sat up, now facing you and taking both of your hands. “I’m only telling you this because you are my best friend and to remind you that none of this is ever your fault. You haven’t done a thing wrong, in fact, I can’t think how I would’ve gotten past any of this if it wasn’t for you.”

You held on to his hands tighter. “Sebastian, you’re scaring me.”

He shook his head, pulling you closer as if to comfort. Why was he comforting you when it was him who had been terrorized by this dream version of you. It was irrational to be mad but how could you not be when apparently you had become one of his problems while you were simultaneously desperately trying to fix it.

A palm on your cheeks pulled you out of your self-loathing.

“All of my dreams … it was of the people I love leaving me. Anne never forgiving me for the rest of my life, Ominis turning me in …”

“Oh, Sebastian,” you buried a sob on the crook of his neck, your hand roping around his back so you can rub on his back comfortingly while he lets everything out.

“And … and every time it happens my brain drives itself insane thinking of plans of what I would do if those nightmares came true. That’s the reason why I couldn’t sleep.” You looked up at him through your lashes but never leaving your spot even as he brings your legs out of the water and over his until you were in his lap.

“But then … they turned to you.” His voice dropped so low you almost shivered. “And for the life of me I just couldn’t … see an out of that. If I lost you – If you gave up on me I … I think I’d turn myself in Azkaban myself.”

“Sebastian I would never –”

“I know that,” he whispered. “But I still can’t – I can’t let it go. I can’t let go of these doubts and fear.”

This time he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “That’s why I keep hanging out with all those girls.”

You raised your head in confusion, taking a better look at him.

“I thought if I loved you less, my nightmares would be kinder.”

The breath got caught in your throat. What is he – does he mean –

“But I couldn’t do that either,” He sighed, rubbing a hand on his face, clearly frustrated. “So I’ve decided. I’d rather go insane, let the nightmares do their worst because I am done pretending I don’t love you. I’m done avoiding you, I’m done pretending you aren’t the only light in my life. I’m done. And I love you.”

A fully grown crying Mandrake could drop from the sky and you don’t think you would’ve heard it over your own heart. You could barely comprehend anything but that his grip on your waist was so tight it was almost painful and that his pleading, terrified eyes was in the perfect angle that the late dying sun made it look like it was in a golden fire.

And that Sebastian Sallow … is in love with you. Just as madly as you were with him.

“I’m not forcing you into anything. I needed to let it out. If you want, I fully intend to formally court you until –”

“I love you.” You could no longer bear to put him in such misery. As long as you were alive, he would not question the adoration you’ve felt for him that just kept growing since the first day he had taken you to Hogsmeade. “I love you, Sebastian.”

Just for a moment there was quiet then he burst out laughing. “Thank you, darling." His body visibly shuddered as he sighed in relief, burying his face in your chest. "I’ve already planned to throw myself off the highest cliff in Hogwarts if this had gone south.”

You wrapped your hands around his neck, accepting the gentlest kisses on your neck. “Don’t say that. I plan to be your girlfriend for a very long time.”

His body shook from laughing, this time a kiss under your jaw, “Not that long I hope?”

You frowned, pulling away from him, though his unrelenting hold prevented much space to be in between the two of you. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” his thumbs rubbed circles on your thigh, now seemingly shy. “If all goes well, I had hoped to be engaged by the time we graduate. You won’t be just my girlfriend then.”

"You bastard," You gawked, laughing at his proclamation. The happiness was overflowing in your chest that you couldn’t help but just squeeze him into you hoping maybe that your souls would fuse with each other. “You haven’t even kissed me yet and you’re already pre-proposing?”

He licked his lips, his sleepless eyes now full of vigor. “Ah, we gotta fix that, don’t we, pet?”

“We’re dating.”

Natty sighed in relief.

Poppy clapped.

Garreth passed Imelda a silver coin.

"Excuse me," Ominis muttered, standing up. “I'm gonna request a room change to the Headmaster.”

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian x mc #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanfiction

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miley1442111 · 7 days

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Reader x Rafe. They have only been on a few dates. They do not have a claim on each other. Rafe’s cousing is visting for the weekend, unknown to her, and is a really pretty girl. Rafe posts a photo of her on his story on instagram, having dinner. Reader assumes the worst, that he is keeping his options open and dating others, and it makes her really sad when she only had eyes for him. She is aware that that they have not had a talk about dating others, and she does not have the ’’right’’ to be so sad but still is, wanting him to just feel like her, liking her so much that he does not want to see anyone else. Rafe at some point later after his family/cousin dinner is done, he texts reader at night, asking if she wants to talk on the phone ’missing her voice’ but she just scoffs sadly to herself reading it, now thinking he is just a bit of a pig, thinking she truly meant nothing to him for him to be so casual about it. Unknown to her, Rafe feels exactly the same as her, not wanting anyone but her and is walking in circles at home in panic talking to himself, wondering what he has done. He does not want to be to pushy as they have just started dating so he does not harass her with texts. A few days go by and he sees her at the bonfire with her friends, kind of approaches her like he approached Kie, very gentle and soft. She tries to just keep it short, answering his questions being polite and goes to leave after getting her drink but he is like ’’wow wow wow, wait. You’re not answering my calls. I feel like I’ve done something to upset you and it’s killing me’ and she kind of brings up the girl, not in an accusing way, more so like ’’I get it. You wanna keep your options open. I’m just not comfortable with that because I like you a lot. We had a good run but I guess that is it. Take care of yourself’’ with a sad smile but then he stops her from walking away and clears up the misunderstanding and its a sweet ending

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my promise- r.cameron

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a/n: thank you so much for requesting! sorry to everyone, i've been struggling a lot with writer's block and with college starting up everything has been super busy but I should be back on a fairly regular basis now :)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! pogue! reader

summary: i suggest you look at the request

warnings: rafe is a bit of a dick without realising, reader is upset, pogues hate rafe, i think that's it?

+ this rafe is not show-accurate, this is another universe where he can express emotions and recognise how his action affect others :)

not entirely proofread

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Rafe Cameron was a pig. Three months of talking, and he finally asked you out. And now he was on a date with someone else.

But what else were you expecting from the ‘Kook king’? Your friends were right. You shouldn’t have even bothered with Rafe. He would always be a fucking man-whore with too much money and too little empathy. Of course you were a game to him, what else would you be? You were a pogue. You were nothing in his eyes, just a fuck. You weren’t even his real girlfriend. He had no claim on you, and you had no claim on him.

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You would’ve genuinely stabbed yourself in the eye if it meant you got to stop watching them interact. Rafe and that blonde girl. You’d never seen her on the island, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t from here. Random people spent summers here every year, a lot of people rented out their houses, especially the rich ones, just so someone would be in their mansions while they were busy in Bali, or the Hamptons, or wherever rich assholes went on holidays.

She laughed at something he said and you rolled your eyes. “He’s not even fucking funny,” you scoffed.

JJ rolled his eyes. “I hate to say ‘I told you so’, but-”

“Yeah yeah, you told me, I know,” you sighed. “Thought I could make a kook act like a human, that’s on me,” you held your arms up in defence. You two stood side by side as you shone the cutlery. Serving at the Country Club wasn’t bad, and the tips were good. It’s just you didn’t expect to see him on a date with someone else.

You got off of work at 8pm, Rafe and the blonde girl were still busy chatting when you left. Jj gave you a lift on his bike and you decided to grab all of Rafe’s things and leave them on his doorstep, not even bothering to explain. You knew what you saw. You knew what he was doing. You didn’t care anymore, you were worth more than that.

At about 2am you woke up to your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

Your groggy voice made Rafe smile. It had been a long night of entertaining his annoying beauty-queen cousin, and he wanted to talk to you, to see you. “Hey baby.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hi Rafe.”

“How was your day?” he asked.

“Fine,” your answers were short and to the point. You had no interest in entertaining this anymore. “Yours?”

“Boring as fuck,” he chuckled.

“What did you do today?” you asked, morbid curiosity getting the better of you. You wanted to see if he’d admit it.

“Nothing much, worked out, golf, went to dinner with family, that’s it.”

Of course he was lying. And using his family as a cover? Asshole.

“Why did you call me?” you questioned, trying to act interested, but failing miserably.

“I missed your voice,” he admitted shyly.

“Ok, you heard it, night Rafe,” you sighed before hanging up. A part of you was angry. Another was just upset. How could he see other people? You two had a really good thing going, didn’t you? You thought he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend. How wrong you were. It just reminded you of why you were so apprehensive to date him in the first place, to date anyone in the first place. Maybe you weren’t enough for him. Maybe you weren’t enough at all.

You let yourself try to sleep it off, but the next few days you were down, and everyone could tell. Jj had told the others what had happened, and you could see the pitying glances from Kie and the boys, and the annoyed looks from Sarah. She hated him, genuinely, but this was the last straw. She’d told him not to break your heart. She’d warned him.

“What about the bonfire tonight?” John B offered to the group as the sunset. “That would cheer you up,” he nudged your arm and you grimaced.

“I don’t feel like going out,” you sighed. “You guys go ahead.”

Sarah sighed. “You can’t let this ruin your week Y/n. He’s a dick, he’ll always be a dick, and it wasn’t your fault for liking him. Every single one of my friends as a kid liked him, then he showed his true colours and he’s a dick again. His behaviour is not a benchmark for your value. He’s in the wrong, not you. Come out with us tonight, even if it’s just for 30 minutes, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes, giving in. “Fine.”

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

You hadn’t texted him back in three days. He didn’t want to be the pushy ‘be with me all the time’ boyfriend, but he was used to texting you at least once a day. Now you’d left him without a response for 3 whole days. Thinking back, he knew you were being weird during the phone call the other night, and he couldn’t understand what he’d done. Were you losing interest? He hoped you weren’t. You were the only girl who he’d ever been really serious about. You were the only girl he’d ever felt a real connection with. You were his girl, at least, you would be.

He pulled up to the bonfire with one thought in mind, find you.

You pulled up to the bonfire with one thought in mind, hide from Rafe.

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

Hiding didn’t exactly last long, especially when he was directly following you around the entire beach. If you went towards the water, he’d come near you, if you went towards the house, he’d come near you, if you went up to the fire, there he just so happened to be, roasting a marshmallow with a big smile on his face. You did notice how he wasn’t carrying around his signature corona, nor was his nose full of white powder. Huh. He’d listened when you said you didn’t like him being ‘uncontrolled’ as you called it, yet he went on a date with another girl. Strange.

You sat away from your friends, by the water, nursing a can of beer. You weren’t a heavy drinker and you’d probably go home after this, since you’d already been at the party for a little while. You watched the sea come in and out. Wave after wave, softly brushing against the shore.

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice brought you out of your trance. He sat down beside you, dirtying whatever expensive shorts he had on.

“Hey,” you answered.

“How are you?” He asked, his tone not missing the awkwardness of this moment. He was nervous before coming up to you, but now? Having to come face to face with your cold tone was becoming unbearable pretty quickly.

“Fine thanks, how are you?” You asked, continuing your staring at the sea.

“Good. Better, now,” he smiled, placing a hand over yours. “You forgot to text me back.”

“Did I?” you didn’t even try to make yourself sound sincere. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. You been busy? How’s work?”

“It’s fine,” you answered. After a moment of silence, you got up. “I’m going to get another beer-”

“Wait,” he jumped up beside you. “You’re not answering my calls. You’re not talking to me normally. You’re not answering my questions. Have I done something to upset you?”

You scoffed. “I wonder.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean Y/n? You’re killing me here.”

“Look, I get it you want to keep your options open and we were just casual, it’s fine. I’m just not the kind of girl to just be casual with, alright? That stuff makes me uncomfortable, and I really liked you. But if you want to go and do that, that’s fine, just don’t bring me into it,” you explained calmly. “Goodbye Rafe.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” he called after you, making you turn back. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw you at the Country Club with the blonde girl, Rafe, seriously, your dating life is your own- what?” You stopped talking because Rafe had started pulling a disgusted face. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s my cousin,” he explained. “My super annoying cousin.”

And everything made a bit more sense. The family comment wasn’t a lie. Now that you think about it, they did look pretty similar.

“Oh.”

“You thought we were on a date?”

“Well it was candle-lit,” you chuckled.

“All the tables at the club are candle-lit past 8pm!” He laughed. “That’s why you’ve been ignoring me? You thought I was cheating on you?”

“Well, we haven’t technically said we were dating so… I just assumed you were keeping your options open,” you shrugged.

Rafe cracked a smile. “You think I’d pick anyone over you?”

You shrugged. “People do.”

“People are fucking stupid,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you two walked further down the beach. “So, Y/n Y/l/n, will you do me the honours of officially being your boyfriend?”

“Only if you do me the honours of being your girlfriend,” you smiled. He turned to you and cupped your cheek, pressing his lips to yours. “I’m all yours, promise.”

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

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

Text

"Espionage" - Kaz Brekker x Reader

SUMMARY: Lord de Witt is throwing an exclusive banquet for socialites - just the perfect opportunity for Kaz to put his hands on whatever the aristocrat has in his safe. Fortunately, being an ambassador's daughter, you can easily smuggle him in but the two of you must pretend you're engaged to avoid suspicion.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 3.7k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

If Jesper didn’t know Kaz, he’d think he was having a laugh.

“When you said you know someone, I was expecting everything but the daughter of an ambassador.” Then, in a slightly anxious manner, he turns to look at you apologetically. “No offence.”

There is something quite amusing in his uneasiness as though Jesper is expecting to be decapitated for as much as giving you a sour grimace. You’re probably the closest thing to nobility he’s ever been around.

“Worry not, sir,” you reassure him with a polite smile on your face, “I will try my best not to spoil your criminal quality.”

His eyebrows furrow and he leans towards Inej. “Did… did she just call me ‘sir’?” he asks quietly.

“Don’t get used to it,” she answers half-heartedly, busy pondering something else.

“How do you even know each other?” Jesper points between you and Kaz but the moment his index finger is directed towards you, he quickly puts his hand down. “I doubt you’ve been to the Barrel before.”

To any passerby, the sight of you and the Crows standing next to each other must look like a skit. With your expensive, light-coloured dress and back about as straight as a broomstick, you really do stand out like a sore thumb. Are those lowlifes bothering a proper lady or is she perhaps noble enough to offer them a few coins?

“That’s quite right. When my father was fraudulently accused of conspiring against the crown, mister Brekker,” out of pure habit you vaguely gesture towards him, “had been so kind as to solve this perplexing hoax. It is only fair that I agree to help him when he asks.”

Kaz checks his watch. Then, his expression suddenly becomes stern, focused, and you know exactly what it means.

“We should go,” he states. His eyes have a strange glint of both coldness and concealed worry to them. “There’s no backing out now.”

Your polite smile doesn’t falter. “I wasn’t considering such a thing.”

The dearth path around the lawn in front of the manor is blocked with countless carriages - horses of one freight have their nostrils pushed against the rolling stock of another cart. It seems as though Lord de Witt has invited half of the continent to his exclusive banquet. Half of them, one might assume, came out of courtesy or simply because of the other guests sure to attend.

Mixing into the crowd of rich men and aristocracy, choking on the powder and perfume, you tell Kaz the basics of banquets like this:

“Let me do the talking. You’re accompanying me, which among socialites makes you akin to a show horse. Of course, someone might ask you a question but it will be pure courtesy. They don’t actually care, because they don’t know you. Answer shortly and politely.”

“Will it not raise suspicion that the ambassador’s daughter is engaged to a no-one?”

“Not if he’s a First Army veteran, wounded on the front lines by a Fjerdan savage,” you say in a theatrical manner. His perpetual frown elicits a chuckle from you. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m sure you can sell it. Besides, if you seem grim enough, which shouldn’t be a problem honestly, the guests won’t dare ask any more questions.”

The porter nods knowingly in your direction. Despite his old age, he’s quick to recognize the little lady you once were. You offer him the invitation but he waves his hand in dismissal. His fingers tremble slightly, making you wonder in all of your melancholy whether he’d still be able to do all those small magic tricks he used to entertain you with.

Following the mob of guests, you end up in a spacious ballroom. Crystal chandeliers reflect candlelight, causing ethereal rainbows to dance across the frescoes painted on the ceiling. Some of the artwork presented landscapes, other battles and even Saints - all of them equally breathtaking. The hall is filled with a plethora of scents: vertigo-inducing perfume, imported fruits, freshly-cut flowers, braised meats. To Kaz, this is the smell of wealth but to you, the ballroom only smells of home.

Appearance-wise, Kaz falls a bit behind compared to the three-piece suits and cylinders but the difference is not stark enough for people to give him contemptuous glances. In all honesty, this will help you sell the yarn you’re spinning. After all, what veteran has enough money to buy a whole suit for just one evening?

“Come on, we should say our greetings to the host,” you say quietly while gently nudging his arm.

As though you are something of a Grisha yourself, the middle-aged man in question suddenly appears in front of you. His face has gained a few deep wrinkles since the last time you saw him but still, his prominent laughter lines are the first thing people notice about him. Considering what kind of person Lord de Witt is, it’s a reliable first impression - a rare occurrence among thieves and noblemen alike.

The man’s face beams with happiness when he recognizes you, his eyes nearly disappearing in a genuine smile. “Ah, принцесса!” he exclaims, opening his arms. “You’re more beautiful every time I see you.” Holding your hand, he meaningfully leans down but never presses a polite kiss against your skin. Instead, he curtly nods while maintaining eye contact, uneasy at the thought of such a gesture.

“I thank you for the kind words, Lord de Witt,” you answer. “It is a pleasure to be your guest.”

He furrows his eyebrows and dismissively waves his hand. “Nonsense, you’re not just an ordinary guest. Tell me, how’s your father? Is our ambassador in good health?”

“The weather is terrible on his knees, I’m afraid. Only laudanum and nettle curb his pain enough to let him work. If I may inquire as to where Lady de Witt is? I haven’t seen her among the guests.”

Lord’s face grows brighter once again but this time there’s a sense of longing in his tired, grey eyes. “My dear Betty left for Novyi Zem just a few days ago. Ever since Lady de Serre expressed interest in her antique collection, she’s been eager to go back.”

Kaz, so far unnoticed by the aristocrat, glances between you and the man. You’re exchanging mere greetings and courtesies, yet he’s learned quite a few interesting things in just those few sentences. Nobility, as it seems, will say everything and anything as long as they think they’re talking to an equal.

His inquisitive thoughts must have pushed some Saint’s hand because Lord de Witt suddenly turns his attention to him, although continues talking to you. “The dapper young man is your husband, I presume?”

“Not yet, unfortunately,” you say with a bashful giggle - very ladylike, even if forced. “Igor Dreesen,” you introduce him. Kaz shakes the Lord’s hand without ever giving away that he’s never heard that name before. “He has fought in the First Army, on the front lines.”

“You have my eternal gratitude, gentleman.” Lord de Witt has an iron grip on Kaz’s hand, holding it significantly longer than Brekker is comfortable with. “May we all have your bravery and loyalty. Please, enjoy the evening.”

Kaz waits for the Lord to be out of earshot before turning to you. “He seems to know you well.” Maybe you’re reading too much into it or maybe there is a hint of suspicion in his tone.

“When I was younger, I used to come here every week. Valeriya de Witt, Lord’s eldest daughter, taught me embroidery. I know this manor like my own home.”

“Then you surely know where the safe is.”

“It could be in his bedroom or in his office.”

Kaz cocks his head. “So you don’t actually know.”

“I’ve met quite a few noblemen and state officials, Kaz. The older the money, the less we’re careful. De Witt’s office is next door,” you motion your head to the side.

Strolling through the ballroom towards the office door, weaving your way between gold-threaded gowns and made-to-order suits, you can’t help but wonder about the master thief by your side or rather what the world looks like through his eyes. You can recall so many gossip exchanges where a group of complete strangers would discuss their wealth and business, believing that their secrets are safe among socialites similarly to unaffiliated thugs discussing their commissions over a pint of watered-down beer. In a thief’s world, you’re something of an encyclopedia on fast enrichment. Maybe telling a secret or two could be treacherous of you but in the grand scheme of things, you think it’s not nearly enough to cover your debt.

You lean towards Kaz, speaking in a low voice. “See that lady with a scandalously huge hat? That’s lady Maria de Bouvier, harbors so much contempt towards her stepmother, she’d probably be elevated if some of the jewelry was to disappear.”

Brekker spares you a questioning glance but doesn’t say anything.

“Or that retired soldier by the pillar? Next to the girl dressed in all-white?” you ask him. His keen eye quickly finds the dark green jacket with an obnoxious amount of medals attached. “Captain Geoffrey van der Greiss, earned most of his fortune from smuggling. Open any crate with fish at the Eastern harbors and the sides of the box will be filled with cash. Yours to take if you can bear the smell.”

Kaz suddenly steps in your way, stopping you. His usual frown appears more like a scowl now. “Why are you telling me all of this?” he spits out. “You’re so eager to point me towards easy wealth. It’s not just about returning a favor, is it?”

You look away for a moment - you should have expected that if someone was to notice your motive, it would be Kaz Brekker himself. His face is still contorted into an expression of contempt or anger when your stare returns to him.

“Have you ever, even for a single second, considered what would have happened to me had my father been found guilty?” you ask in a hushed tone.

“I can’t say I have.”

“I often do. He would have been locked up in Hellgate or simply killed. The family fortune would dwindle rather quickly as my mother and I would live off of it. Then one day the money would run out, we’d have to sell our house and live modestly if not on the streets. No one would employ us because of the scandal and soon we’d find our place in a brothel. All of that did not happen because of you, Kaz.” His expression visibly softens, even if he’s doing his best not to show it. “I owe you my life.”

“I don’t want it.”

Without waiting for you to continue, he resumes walking towards the office door. Although off-limits to the guests, the manor staff is simply too busy to pay attention to anything else other than restocking drinks and food. On the other hand, the guards employed by Lord de Witt are so convinced drunk aristocracy doesn’t need nannies that they’re playing cards in some dark, isolated corner and drawing lots when someone has to go swipe some alcohol and lamb from the kitchen. Perhaps they are paid to complete much different tasks but if someone is familiar with de Witt’s banquets, they wouldn’t be exactly surprised - a scandal is yet to happen inside his manor.

You meet Kaz’s gaze but immediately regret it. There’s something both chilling with determination and burning hot with focus, making you feel rather flustered at the intensity of it all.

“Make sure no one comes in here,” he says quickly before swiftly crossing the remaining meters and sliding inside the room. For a man with a limp, he’s exceptionally agile.

Minutes go by while Kaz is absent and you begin to worry. What if someone caught him? Or if he got injured somehow? He may be something of an atelier of theft but he’s still a man, after all.

Debating whether to go after Kaz or trust his expertise, you don’t notice a young man approaching you:

“Excuse me, my lady, but you are the ambassador’s daughter, are you not?”

Torn out of your spiraling thoughts, you look up at him with wide eyes. He has a kind face with strong features. His tanned skin is in contrast with his creme-coloured suit, creating a quite enticing sight. Warm, brown eyes study you with interest.

“I am, master…” you make a meaningful pause.

The man immediately picks up on your cue. “Tolkov Ilya Romanovich. My father is the legat of Ketterdam’s Merchants’ Guild.” Contrary to Lord de Witt, Ilya doesn’t hesitate to plant a kiss on the back of your hand.

“Oh, I have heard about you. Horse racing enthusiast, is it not?”

He gives you a flustered chuckle. “My vices precede me, I see. As does your beauty, if I may say so.”

You feel your cheeks warm up. There’s something about Western men’s charm that really gnaws at a lady’s heart. “That’s very kind, master Tolkov.”

“Lord de Witt spoke of you with exceptional fondness. I thought it only appropriate to witness your marvel myself.”

At the same time, Kaz is slipping back through the office door into the ballroom. Judging by the lack of interest he attracts, none of the guests even noticed his disappearance. He is making his way back to you, when he catches the sight of a rather dignified man politely kissing your hand. Although you don’t look swept off your feet, there’s nothing akin to discomfort on your face either. Kaz feels sudden uneasiness in his chest like he’s watching something he shouldn’t be, while being unable to place his gaze elsewhere. He doesn’t even know his face has turned into a grimace of distaste.

“You’re finally back, my love!” you dramatically exclaim when Kaz reaches you and the stranger. His expression is rid of anything pleasant but you decide to play along for now. “Master Tolkov, this is my fiance, Igor Dreesen. Darling, this is the son of the legat of the Merchants’ Guild, Ilya Romanovich.”

Legat of the Merchants’ Guild? Finally someone worth knowing of.

Kaz shakes Ilya’s hand but that marks the extent of his politeness. “I do not take kindly to anyone descending on my lady,” he says in a stern voice.

“But of course, sir.” Tolkov nods curtly. Annoyed or not, he’s proficient at keeping his face blandly kind. “My sincere apologies.”

Ilya gently bows his head towards you before leaving the two of you alone. Your gaze follows him until the man disappears among coiffures and cylinders. Then, you look at Kaz with hardly hidden amusement:

“You play your part better than I was expecting.”

Kaz, however, completely ignores your comment. “The safe isn't here. It must be in the bedroom. Where is it?”

“Upper floor. There’s the grand staircase in the vestibule but we can take the kitchen stairs, there won't be many people in that part of the mansion.”

The presence of ground floor guards is revealed only by loud laughter from behind the door leading to the staff rooms. All of the guests could just leave at once and none of them would notice. Still, you’re exceptionally careful when sneaking between the tables that are bending under the weight of food - even a small misstep, nudging one of the silver platters, could cause a cacophony loud enough that someone might hear it, even if not the guards in question.

You’re leaning against the wall when walking up the spiral stairs. Cocking your head to the side, you’re trying to look into the hall on the first floor but there’s not much you can actually see. As it appears, theft takes a lot more faith than you had previously thought.

The upper floor guards are out of sight but you don’t let yourself give in to the sudden feel of relief - this is only the first step into this little big scheme. There’s still a safe to find and an exit to make.

There’s a long, red carpet covering most of the floor. Although it muffles Kaz’s cane, it also makes the steps of the guards hardly audible. If you do see one, you’ll have to rely on quick thinking and a certain level of stupidity accredited to aristocracy.

Left turn. Pair of doors. Two right turns. Another left and another right. And then - footsteps.

“Someone’s coming,” Kaz whispers. His keen eyes are scanning the long corridor to find anything remotely close to a hiding spot. Decorative cabinets could well work but only if the unwanted passerby doesn’t walk past them.

The idea, a true testimony of quick thinking and aristocratic carelessness, hits you like a bolt out of the blue:

“Push me against the wall,” you order him.

His head snaps towards you, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen. “What?” he stutters out.

“No one likes clingy couples.”

There isn’t any time to discuss and ponder as the footsteps grow louder. Visibly displeased, he puts his arm against the wall next to your head. At first you’re wondering just how enraged your father would be had he heard about this but then you smell Brekker’s cologne and suddenly one nervousness is changed for another, a more bashful one.

The footsteps, as one might expect, belong to a lonely guard patrolling the manor. His face is grim even before he notices the misplaced lovers. When his eyes do glance at you and Kaz, the soldier’s cheeks visibly raise and the frown quickly becomes more of an expression of disgust. Passing by the two of you, he grunts in distaste or irritation and continues walking farther down the corridor.

Kaz, to your surprising displeasure, wastes no time in putting more space between the two of you when the guard is out of sight. No words are exchanged like a collective agreement to pretend this little embarrassment had never taken place. But, it can’t really hurt him if he doesn’t know you’re thinking about it, can it?

With a confident push, you open the ivory-coloured door, their golden decorations glistening in dim lighting.

Lord de Witt’s bedroom is strangely dark compared to the rest of the house. At first glance, there is nothing that stands out as a possible hiding spot for a safe: a bed that could easily fit five people, a vanity with boxes of jewelry and cosmetics, a small desk with private correspondence, a cold fireplace, a folding screen. The artisan taxidermy hanging on the walls only adds a touch of grim macabre.

But a master thief is not so easily dissuaded. You watch Kaz in a slight confusion and interest as he walks through the room, gently knocking against solid wood or carefully. brushing his hand along some surfaces. More than once he tapped different parts of the floor with his cane, only to let out a short sigh as if the strange rite gave him some kind of information but not necessarily the one he was hoping for.

Then, as though he had known all along or played a secret magic trick, he pulls the base of a taxidermied boar’s head. The decoration, for a lack of better word, moves on hinges, revealing a strongbox - one of those that will survive explosives as the manufacturer promises. The safe has a dial and a handle, rendering any kind of traditional lockpicking useless. But Kaz Brekker, as you’re about to witness, is not much of a traditional thief either:

He puts his ear against the iron box, turning the dial a few times in one direction and the other. Then, he lays his other hand on the safe’s door, his whole body leaning against it. Kaz begins slowly turning the dial in one direction. A silence falls between the two of you.

You can’t be sure whether the tension you’re feeling is because of the hallway perplexity or because he’s so determined to open this strongbox but either way, you’re completely uncomfortable with that. “To be honest, I used to be intimidated by you,” you throw at him in hopes of some kind of conversation, no matter how pointless.

“What changed?” he asks in an absent voice. His hand stops turning the dial only to start rotating it in the opposite direction - whatever he’s doing, it seems to be working.

“You have turned out to make a rather lovely spouse.”

A loud click resounds in the room and Kaz immediately pushes down on the handle, opening the strongbox. He reaches inside, pulls out some documents and quickly reads through them. Some he puts back, others he stuffs between his waistcoat and shirt.

“Such nimble fingers you have. I know a market for that,” you joke partially expecting the thief to say something sultry enough to get you to be quiet for the rest of the night.

He spares you a glance and goes back to rummaging through the contents of the safe. In an unexpected act of goodwill, he takes only some of the cash. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Even a lady of my sort has her weaknesses.”

You wait for his answer but Kaz doesn’t as much as look over his shoulder at you as though he hasn’t even heard your words. Although awkwardly, you patiently wait for him to be finished with whatever selective theft he’s committing. That tense silence again.

After a longer while, he closes the safe and locks it again. When he turns around to face you, something glistens between his fingers - a string of pinkish pearls. They flow along the shape of his hand as he offers you the necklace.

A quiet sigh escapes your lips. “I don’t want a payback, Kaz,” you shake your head to accentuate the refusal. “You have helped my family tremendously, this,” you make a vague gesture with your hand, “is the least I could do for you.”

“This isn’t payment,” he states.

Your eyebrows furrow. “Whatever do you mean?”

His intense gaze bores into you for a minute or two before he slowly answers. “It’s a bastard’s inclination.”

With a flustered ‘oh’, you take the string of pearls from him, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks. Still feeling his passionate gaze gliding along your face, you’re a little too abashed to meet his eye. Who would have thought - a thief with a heart!

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hangup119 · 4 months

Text

FEELS LIKE A THRILLER! ᯓᡣ𐭩

12. #NOTACANNIBAL written chapter | 2.8k words

“WHAT, YOU DON’T feed your plants?”

Seunghan tilts his head. “... Why should I?”

“Then what the hell kind of owner are you, dude?” you accuse, adjusting the strap of your bag as the two of you head towards the car parking lot. “Who doesn’t feed their plants?”

Seunghan pauses, eyebrows furrowing, before a smile breaks out on his face and then he’s throwing his head back to laugh. He opens the door of the passenger seat for you, saying, “You mean, like, feeding them fertilizer? Wait, how often do you feed them anyway?”

“Everyday.”

Seunghan looks concerned. “Um, I don’t think that’s right…”

You shrug, hopping into the car. “My plant seems to love it, though. It has never looked this alive! That obviously means I’m doing something right, right?”

He blinks when the door finally shuts, wondering how that even works. What kind of plant do you even have in the first place to require fertilizer every single day? He thought it’d be just some room plant, something low-maintenance, but maybe you’re actually a secret plant-connoisseur since you’ve been keeping it alive all this time? Hell, for all he knows, you’re probably developing your own venus flytrap that could digest a whole-ass elephant or something… a part of some secret society with mad scientists obsessed with plants and Seunghan’s just none the wiser…

He promptly starts the vehicle, dismissing such thoughts. He really needs to stop watching those crazy Sci-Fi movies with Sohee every Wednesday.

When the car finally gets out of school property, Seunghan takes one quick glance at you. “So,” he starts, hands admittedly a bit clammy as he steers the wheel and stops at a red light. “Anywhere you’d like to go? I was thinking maybe we should get some food, or something. We should have really planned this out, huh?”

A notification ping suddenly rings out after he finishes; an awfully familiar sound at that.

“Do not open your goddamn phone to play Pokemon Go right now, Seunghan,” you warn, and he immediately deflates at how easily you’ve read him. Then, you smile sweetly, “But, yeah, we can go get something to eat first!”

He laughs anyway, swerving towards downtown. “Alright. Also, I wasn’t even going to open Pokemon Go. Just saying.”

“Yeah, okay, and I’m definitely not going to jump out into oncoming traffic right now.”

“Please don’t.”

After spending some time eating at a nearby cafe Eunseok has been asking to go together with the guys, the two of you manage to get through a whole hour without glancing at each of your phones, too focused on the other to truly care whether or not there are pokemons in the area. During that whole hour of you casually attempting to flirt with Seunghan in your own little way, you find that perhaps he’s not as obsessed with the mobile game as much as you believed him to be—which is good, even though you do find it a little bit cute, but at least he’s not addicted or something.

Seunghan pulls out his phone after you’ve stepped out of the establishment. “Holy shit? There’s a Piplup just a block away!”

“Seriously?” you squawk.

“Yeah!” he excitedly responds, only to end up getting smacked on the arm. “Oh, not what you meant. Okay.”

You give him a fixed stare. He returns it.

“Can we please catch it?” Seunghan pleads, forming his hands into a prayer.

You falter, attempting to look at anywhere but his face. Hot nerds are a curse, you think miserably.

“Please, Y/N? It’s Piplup!” he continues, finally taking your hands in his. You flush, believing that he can just go ahead and go catch the damn pokemon himself but instead chooses to spend more time begging you to go with him in order to catch it together. Right. Because you’re on a date. And Seunghan isn't an asshole. Right. Guy who had a girlfriend for four years over here. Someone already cooked before you.

“Okay, fine,” you finally surrender, mentally cursing yourself for going down such a rabbit hole. Who cares about his ex-girlfriend? She was the past, and you’re the present (hopefully)! “But just Piplup!”

Seunghan laughs, crossing the road with you. “I promise I won’t make this a Pokemon Go date.”

He’s still holding your hand. Like a real couple. You have to mention it.

“You better not,” you say instead, squeezing his hand in return.

After acquiring the stupid Piplup loitering by a fire hydrant next to a pissing dog, Seunghan leads you back to his car to spend a couple more minutes marveling at the 25th Piplup on his screen, before starting the ignition to make your way towards the arcade. There he finally pockets his phone and drags you towards the nearest racing game, where you both duke it out in a Fast & Furious racing game, with you ultimately ending up as the winner after two rounds. Of course, you made sure to rub it in Seunghan’s face for a good three minutes, before he’s dragging you towards the claw machines like every arcade date out there.

Amidst the presence of screaming children and tired parents chasing after them, Seunghan holds your hand as if it was second nature, the sight of his back a constant reminder that he’s not willing to lose you among the crowd and the dirty, soda and gum-flavored floor.

You wonder if this is what it would have felt like had you been his girlfriend in high school. Sitting next to each other in class while trying to ignore your friends’ teasing remarks, partnering up for school projects, doing community service together, or buying snacks right after school and heading to the arcade. Then he’d walk you home, or depending when he got his license maybe drive you, and you’d ask him to text you back when he gets back home. The little things that make up being highschool sweethearts, or whatever the hell he experienced with his ex-girlfriend before they broke up.

Fine, you’re jealous. You’ve always been jealous. But who doesn’t? You’ve always liked Seunghan—everyone knows that—and you’re aware that the missed opportunities you could’ve had with him over the last four years are a result of your own cowardice and lack of assertion, but what gives? After four years, you can finally have him? Just like that?

They say that a man who yearns is a man who earns, but now that he’s right next to you, on a literal date with you—why can’t you take it?

Because you cling too much to the past. Do you still like him as much as you did before?

You’ve always believed that liking someone for so long is a stupid thing, especially someone who wasn’t even available in the first place. Why cling to someone who can’t look at you the way you want them to? And yet you held out for hope anyway, clinging to the possibility that maybe someday Seunghan can look at you like how he did his ex all those years. That perhaps you had a chance with the boy who was one day partnered up with you and your friends for that one project in AP World History, and unknowingly becoming the object of your affections for the next three years and still into college.

“Just focus on my awesome skills,” Seunghan exclaims, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel as he steps closer to the machine. “I’m gonna get you that Pikachu.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course you choose the machine with the pokemons.”

“This is who I am,” he simply responds after inserting the token, moving around the joystick to situate the claw exactly to where he wanted it to go. “And what I am is a Pokemon fan.”

“You do know that these things are a scam, right?” you ask, stepping right next to him.

Seunghan curses when the plushie falls out of the claw’s grasp. “It works out, sometimes. You just gotta have hope, you know?”

You spare him a thoughtful look. Funny how he says that.

He goes for three more rounds to no avail, the Pikachu plushie never budging from its place next to the Charmander. Seunghan feels as if they’re mocking him from within the glass, and he feels embarrassed, but he promised (in his head, at least) to get you that Pikachu no matter what. And he won’t go home until he does.

What he doesn’t expect is for you to push him out of the way. “Move, you’re just wasting money,” you say, inserting a token into the slot as he tries to regain his senses. “I will get you that Pikachu.”

Seunghan stammers, moving closer to you as you maneuver the claw to align with the lone Pikachu in the corner, before confidently pressing on the button. “There’s no way that’s gonna work,” he says, eyeing the descending claw. “It’s too far.”

“Just watch,” you simper.

Much to Seunghan’s surprise, the Pikachu plushie makes it all the way to the exit without a hitch. “What?” he exclaims in shock, watching as you crouch down to take the plushie from the machine, dust it off, and proceed to hand it to him with twinkling eyes.

“Ta-da!” you exclaim, pushing it towards him.

Seunghan snaps out of his reverie, handing it back to you. “Why are you giving it to me? I’m supposed to be giving it to you.”

The side-eye you give him is almost scathing. “What, like the girl can’t give the guy a gift?”

Seunghan flushes. “That’s not what I meant!”

But you’re already laughing, inserting another token into the slot while he’s just helplessly holding onto the Pikachu plushie you won’t take. "Sure, you fake-progressive."

"I am very progressive."

He observes as you focus in on the Squirtle next to an Eevee, before changing your mind and going for the upside-down Bulbasaur. Within seconds, you manage to get it again.

“What’s your secret?” he wonders, taking the plush when you hand it to him as you’re already inserting another token to get the Eevee. “Why are you so good at this? Who’s controlling you? Are you even real?”

You don’t catch the Eevee this time. You’ve also run out of tokens.

“Nevermind,” Seunghan says with a smile too wide for your liking.

You remember back in tenth grade when you were complaining to Sunoo about the upcoming project for history because you simply didn’t want to do it when you had a Chemistry test to study for. Miraculously, you ended up getting grouped with some of your friends and another kid, Hong Seunghan. You thought he was cute, sure, but nothing else after that. He was just some kid who had a huge friend group consisting of six other guys, which somehow included your childhood friend Anton, and the only times you’ve thought about him was when he and his friends walked too slowly in the hallways for your liking.

But then a day before the submission day of the project, you had forgotten to fulfill your part after getting too caught up with your other classes. Knowing Sunoo would never�� forgive you for tanking his grade, you ended up panicking throughout lunch trying to research and paste together a comprehensible summary of your research, hoping that if the group wasn’t getting an A then you would at least get a B. After getting your sources printed out in the library, the only thing left to do was find whoever had the physical presentation, which had been Jaehyun, but then he told you he left it to someone else’s care. Just great, really. You’ll only have a few minutes in class to assemble it, but surely you’d manage, right?

Wrong. Your frustrations finally caught up to you, and you felt like a ticking time bomb with your unpasted sources and incomplete project. Sunoo was gonna hate you for not even being able to finish something so simple, and you’d be letting down your whole group. Nothing was going right, and you were gonna fail.

But just as you were about to burst into tears from the stress and resorting to fess up to Sunoo, Seunghan came jogging to you five minutes before lunch ended with the physical presentation in hand. He started apologizing for hogging it, but quickly paused once he noticed tears streaming down your cheeks at the relief of seeing that all was not lost. As you frantically wiped away your tears, he had awkwardly taken the printed sources from your hands and began pasting them into the decorated cardboard, aligning them with wherever they needed to be all the while attempting to comfort you.

Thinking back on it now, it was a very embarrassing situation. None of that would have happened if you had simply stopped procrastinating and actually did your work, but you hated the prompt your group was given, which lowered your motivation as well. Stupid, but you were just a stupid fifteen-year-old, too.

Yet you would never forget that very understanding group mate of yours. Seunghan didn’t have to comfort you while he did all the work of gluing and cropping the pages for you, but he did it anyway because he noticed your shaking hands. He could have told you off, said a sarcastic remark about your mishap, but he never did. He did the work and walked with you to class, even offering to buy you a drink from the vending machine to calm you down all with a smile on his face. It doesn’t take a genius to know that what he did was very kind and very attractive, so naturally you ended up forming a crush on him.

What you didn’t know was that it would take almost four years for you to make a proper move, albeit indirectly. But it’s the little things that matter.

“I guess this is it,” Seunghan says after pocketing his keys, walking with you towards your dorm building’s entrance. “I had fun today, Y/N. But I guess I should thank Anton for this, huh? I mean, he was the one who made it possible,” he clasps his hands into a prayer and looks up at the night sky, “whoever made Anton drunk that night, thank you.”

If only Seunghan didn’t smile at you that day, then you wouldn’t be this hopeless in front of him.

You snort. “We’re not even of age to drink.”

“You really think there wouldn’t be any alcohol at Gigi’s party?”

“Fair point,” you shrug, the both of you pausing by the entrance. You turn to him, a gentle smile on your face. “Thanks for the drive, Seunghan. Please take care of Pikachu and Bulbasaur, but since you’re a major Pokemon nerd I’m sure that isn’t an issue for you.”

Seunghan chuckles, rubbing his nape. “You know me so well.”

“I wish I knew more,” you joked. “All those years in high school and we’ve only had full conversations three times.”

He falters. “Ah, yeah… What a waste, huh?”

“Goodnight, Seunghan,” you say, quickly turning around to erase the image of him looking so awkwardly in front of you. Why’d you have to mention that on the first date? God, you must be some grade-A idiot or something because—

“Y/N, wait.”

You pause, trying to ignore the way Seunghan tried to grab your wrist K-Drama style only to end up missing it completely. He fumbles at first at his mistake, attempting to hide the heat quickly rising on his cheeks. “Even if Anton didn’t set us up,” he starts, slowly, trying to find your gaze, “I’d have still wanted to go on this date with you. You’re really fun to talk to, and to hang out with… and you’re also really good at claw machines.”

You smack his arm, and he cracks up a smile again. “Idiot, that’s all you have to say?”

“It’s true, though! Those things are a scam!” he reasons, before clearing his throat. “But seriously, do you wanna go on another date next time? I really had fun with you. I promise I won’t try catching pokemons at the randomest times ever again, and I’ll try to get you that Eevee plushie next time. And you said that I’m a good driver, so maybe we can catch a drive-in movie or something… what do you think?”

Hopefully you don’t notice how fast Seunghan’s heart is beating right now, but that’s probably only because yours is beating just as fast.

You shove him away gently, and he sends you a smile as he waits for your response. “Well?” he goads, but he immediately fails to hide the surprise in his face when you hold up your phone screen in front of him.

“We can drive around and catch some pokemons next time,” you say, before turning around and walking away. “Bye!”

And Seunghan watches just until you’ve entered the building, before tripping on the way to his car.

previous | masterlist | next

SUMMARY. pining after hong seunghan has always felt like an unachievable reality; however, just a few months into your first year of college, it seems that the gods have finally listened to your prayers when news breaks out that your long-time crush is single once again.

AUTHOR'S NOTES. idiots to lovers core

TAGLIST. @shoberi @miyawwn @starwonb1n @hwadejectedyoung @revehosh @alwayswook @rksbae @emohoon @nujeskz @ilovejungwonandhaechan @meowbini @nakam00t @siuewnb @cake1box @dearmarklee @kyusqult @snowyseungs @ffixtionista a @odxrilove e @hisrkive @saeist @lilysflower1 @seunghancore @eternallyhyucks @syzavxy @calumsfringe @yipyipmorals @user7520 @tojis-luver

#riize #riize anton #riize wonbin #riize smau #riize imagines #riize social media au #riize x reader #riize seunghan #seunghan x reader #seunghan #hong seunghan #riize fluff #smau #seunghan riize #seunghan imagines

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itsthestutterforme · 5 months

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Should We Try Again? 1/2 (toxic!Rafe Cameron x toxic!reader)

Summary: Rafe tries to accuse you of cheating, and you did some snooping of your own. And when Rafe found out you went through his phone, you were in for it.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, Topper is a really good friend in this fic, reader is black, dark themes (choking, threats, arguing, name calling, overall just toxic behavior)

If any of these making you uncomfortable, pls don’t read. Take care of yourselves.

You and Rafe had one of your fights again. The yelling match, screaming in each other’s face kind of fight.

The kind of fight where the police gets called because someone heard glass breaking and shouting.

This particular time, he logged into your Instagram and founded close to 50 DMs from guys commenting on your stories where you posted your OOTDs.

You never opened any of the DMs but there were too many to go unnoticed.

“Do you get off on having other guys want you or something? Huh?” He starts as he abruptly forces his way into the bathroom where you were showering.

“What are you talking about, Rafe?” You snark, ringing out the water from your hair.

“What the hell is this?” He rips the shower curtain open.

“Rafe!” You scold, shutting off the water so none leaks onto the floor. He shoves his phone in your face and repeats, “What the hell is this?”

“They’re DMs, Rafe. Why are you talking to me like I did something wrong?”

“Because you did do something wrong by not blocking these sons of bitches. You like the attention, don’t you? You fucking slut.”

“Don’t you dare call me a slut, asshole. It’s DMs. They don’t mean shit!”

You close the shower curtain so you can resume your shower when he ripped it open again.

“Oh it means something when they’re sending dick pics, Y/N! They want to fuck you!”

“It doesn’t matter if they want me because I’m with you, Rafe. Not them.” You tried to reason.

You were already exhausted from work and you really didn’t need this right now.

“You’ve been sending them nudes, haven’t you?” “Are you fucking serious, Rafe?” “Do I look like I’m joking right now?” He says flatly, his nose flaring angrily.

“No, I haven’t sent anybody nudes. I didn’t even know they sent me dick pics because I don’t open them, Rafe.” He gives you a pointed look and you crossed your arms as a challenge.

It was clear you weren’t going to shower in peace so why not add some fuel to this fire.

“You’re such a hypocrite, you know that? Shame on me for having fifty unopened DMs but everything is okay when you have hundreds of opened DMs?” You antagonize, slowly stepping out of the shower with suds still on your body.

You watch as his face fell for a few seconds before it hardens once again.

“You’ve been going through my phone?” He asks. “Of course I have! Because I know you’ve been in my phone, desperate to find secrets to use against me. So I figure why not dig up some secrets of my own.”

“Y/N,” he warns lowly, taking a step towards you.

“What did you find?” He wrote down a few things about the cross.

Like where he’s already looked and potential places where it might be. But he hid those notes behind a passcode in his journal.

There were also a few texts of Ward asking ‘if it was taken care of’. Garret’s body.

There was no way you could figure out the passcode, right?

“What are you so scared I would find?” You questioned, purposely being vague. There was no point in being specific, if he was going to connect the dots for you.

His anxiety got the best of him and he wraps a hand around your throat, giving it a warning squeeze.

“Stop being cute and tell me what you saw.” He orders.

There wasn’t a constant pressure so you were able to breathe fairly normal. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t change his mind.

“I only went through your social media and some of your messages. Nothing else.” His hand twitched around your throat when you mentioned messages.

“I just wanted to see if you were texting others girls.” You added, wrapping your hands around his wrist.

“What else?” “Nothing else, I swear.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Y/N.” “I’m not lying to you.” He pulls away from your throat and you instinctively touched your collar bone.

His gaze softens when you stepped away from him. He itched to get close to you and apologize for over reacting, but he still wasn’t sure that you didn’t know about the gold and the bodies.

So his hands remained by his sides, tightening every so often.

“What are you protecting?” You asked cautiously. “Don’t pull that shit again.” He states before storming out of the bathroom and slamming the front door of your house.

That was a few days ago, and you haven’t spoke to each other since. The most interaction you’ve had was him viewing your story. That’s it.

You’ve been going straight home after work, not wanting to interact with anyone unless you had to.

But a small part of you wished you’d come home to Rafe waiting for you on your door step or him come to see you during your break.

But he never did. That was enough for you to come to the conclusion that he stopped caring about you.

He was so worried about protecting something or someone that was willing to choke you out to protect it.

You’ve seen him anxious about a few things but nothing set him off like you did that night.

You were watching one of your comfort movies with your fleece blanket wrapped around you, eating some stir fry you ordered on UberEats when your phone chimed.

Topper: hey you doing okay?

Tossing the phone back on the bed, you used the chopsticks to dip a piece of beef into the speciality sauce before eating it.

Your phone chimed again.

Topper: We were friends before you started dating Rafe, remember? I care about you too.

You: I assume Rafe told you everything?

Topper: Just that you had an argument and you’re on a break

You: Well that’s an oversimplification.

Topper: I’m throwing a party tonight. You should come.

You: I’m not exactly in the mood to get hit on by a bunch of drunk dudes.

Topper: Stick by me and you won’t have that problem.

You: You’re right. Instead, you would have a Rafe sized problem.

Topper: I’m not scared of Rafe.

Topper: Just come by for a few. It makes me feel uneasy that you’re by yourself at home all this time.

Topper: Please.

You: Fine, Topper.

Topper: Great! I’m on my way.

You hated yourself for how quick your eyes locked in on Rafe as soon as he walked into the party wearing a navy blue shirt and a white hat that matched his white cargo shorts.

He dapped up a few guys that greeted him by the front door and looked straight up to where you were sitting next to Topper.

He found you almost immediately with an expressionless face.

Your heart skipped a beat that he looked for you but that feeling of elation left you as quickly as it came.

He didn’t reach out to you for three days. No call. No text. No apology. He was done and now it was your turn to feel the same.

“You two are like magnets,” Topper says from behind you. “Toxic ones,” he eventually adds with a chuckle.

“I knew you were going to say that,” you teased, playfully hitting his shoulder.

Sadness kicked your gut when two girls approached Rafe, one of them ran her hands over his chest as she went to whisper something in his ear.

“I’m going to grab another drink.” You said when you notice Rafe coming up the stairs with the girls.

“I’ll come with you,” you gave him a look. “What? I meant it when I said stick by me. Let’s go.”

He lets you lead the way and you go down the second set of stairs but you stopped abruptly, peering down at your jewelry.

Everything you were wearing was gifted to you by Rafe, even down to the earrings. You still wore the R golden plate necklace and matching anklet. You had his signet ring on your thumb because that was the only finger it could fit.

“Everything okay, Y/N?” Topper questions. Rafe was watching the entire interaction from the loveseat you and Topper were just sitting on.

You bent down to take off your anklet and moved to take off your earrings next.

“Can you help me take off the necklace?” You asked, pulling off the ring and placing it with the other jewelry.

“Sure,” he agrees, pushing your passion twists out of the way.

You felt his warm hand brushing against the back of your neck when he unclasped the necklace.

He put the necklace in your outstretched hand. You walked back up the few stairs you crossed and approached Rafe whose eyes were still trained on you.

You let out a shaky breath before taking his warm hand into your own and giving him the jewelry. You were beginning to miss his touch.

Guilt flashed across his face, looking down at his hand. You avoided his gaze and left him without another word, rushing down the stairs and Topper followed after you.

“Well that was dramatic,” one of the girls says, rolling her eyes while her friend eyes the gold carat in Rafe’s hand that easily amounted to 75k.

“Can I have the earrings?” She asked and before Rafe could respond, she reached for them anyway.

Rafe caught her hand in a tight grip and she whimpers at the pressure.

“You’re hurting me,” she groans.

“No one told you to touch what’s hers,” he shoves her to the ground. “Hey! You asshole!” Her friend snaps, standing from the couch and helps her friend to her feet.

He doesn’t spare them another glance as he digs in his pocket for a baggie to do a few lines.

“Y/N,” Topper calls, finally catching up with you in the kitchen. “Are you okay?” He asks you, examining your face for anything he could read.

“You should check on him,” you poured yourself a shot in a small solo cup and knocked it back, barely making a face.

“I’m checking up on you,” “It needed to be done, okay. All of it were just reminders of what I don’t have anymore.” You explain, pouring yourself another shot.

“That was very brave for you to do.” “Then why do I feel like shit?” You huffed after taking another shot and he stops you from pouring another one.

“Because the break up is still fresh, Y/N.” He looks at you like you’re going to fall apart before his very eyes.

His soft eyes examines your face for any micro expression that could give away what you’re thinking.

“Look, Top. I know you’re trying to help and all but if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to cry.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“I want to enjoy your party. Your birthday is tomorrow. You shouldn’t be spending it watching me cry.”

“That’s not happening. I’m not leaving you.” He shakes his head and you took his hands into yours, much like you did with Rafe.

But Rafe’s hand were warmer.

“It doesn’t make you a bad friend. I’ll find Sarah.” He studied your face once again and you gave him a soft smile.

“Go,” “Alright,” he says, not bothering to hide his disappointment. “I’ll come find you in like ten minutes.”

“Take your time,” he leaves the kitchen and you let out a deep sigh. You shouldn’t be here.

But you didn’t have the heart to ditch Topper on his birthday rager.

You pressed your palms into the cool, granite countertop and bowed your head to release the tension in your neck.

You hadn’t realize someone was in the kitchen with you until you heard footsteps and someone’s low voice. To your surprise, it was Pope standing on the other side of the counter.

“Sorry, were you saying something?” You asked softly, the shot were slowly starting to get to you.

“I said you are too pretty and insanely smart to be treated like an option.”

That was the nicest thing anyone said to you. You haven’t felt valued in a long time.

“Thanks, Pope. That really means a lot.”

His mouth fell open at your words. “You know who I am?”

“Yes I know who you are. Your family makes the best seafood boils in town.” You explained with a chuckle.

“She knows my name,” he said to himself, which he quickly realized you can hear.

“I should haven’t said that out loud,” he admits and you let out a laugh.

“You’re cute,” he scratches the back of his neck to hide how flustered he way. “Um, are you hiding from Rafe in here?”

“Yes, I am.” You admitted, crossing your arms. “Well if you want some company, my friends are by the bonfire outside. If you want to join. O-only if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything or-“

You interrupted his rant to say, “Sure. I’ll go with you.” You took a solo cup and swung by the keg on the way out, offering some to Pope.

“By the way, what makes you think I’m insanely smart?” “I’m a TA for Mr. Patterson. He still uses your test as a grading key.” He explains after taking a swig of your beer.

“Of course he does. I loved his class.” You admitted with a chuckle. “What is this?”

JJ stands from the chair and motions between you and Pope with his ringed pinky.

“I told her she can hang out with us.” “Hey, JJ.” You greet with a small wave.

“‘Sup, sweetheart. Want a hit?” He offered a blunt to you and you graciously accepted.

He had a grin on his face as he watched you take a hit. He expected you to cough or at least have your eyes water from the potency but much to his surprise, you exhaled the puff of smoke slowly without a fuss.

The mix of the weed and the tequila was throwing your head in a spin. “Never pegged you to be a pothead,” “I’m full of surprises, Maybank.”

A drunk Rafe stumbles outside in search for you when he finds you laughing with Pope and JJ.

JJ noticed your shivering whenever there was a breeze and peeled off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

Rafe wasn’t even aware what was happening until his vision started to blur.

He was crying.

#black!reader #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron x you

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flowerandblood · 6 months

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ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD

✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙

Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.

I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.

Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.

Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.

Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.

I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).

That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.

Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.

Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.

I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.

Apreciation

@ewanmitchellcrumbs

Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.

On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.

I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!

@targaryenrealnessdarling

Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!

@persephonerinyes

You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!

@zenka96

You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.

@huramuna

I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.

@black-dread & @aegonx

You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!

@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose

Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!

lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit

And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!

Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!

#one year anniversary #celebration

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lemotmo · 1 month

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Well, THAT happened last night…

First time for everything, right?

I have a couple of things to get off my chest, but once this is posted I’m moving on to regular fandom stuff again. I’m not going to come back to any of this, because frankly it isn’t worth my time or energy.

So without further ado:

Thank you so much to all the lovely people who have been sending me and the other people involved in this mess non-stop kind messages in support. I appreciate it. I won’t be responding to each and every one of you, because there are just too many at this point. But know that you helped me a lot. It’s great to see that no one actually believes any of these terrible accusations.

Negative comments (very few of them) have been read, taken note of and deleted, with the sender blocked. I’m not engaging in fruitless discussion and arguements with anyone who is only here to cause trouble and rage bait. You won’t get any kind of attention from me.

I’m also not going to accuse any side of any fandom of this garbage posting. Mostly because I have no idea who is responsible for it and I don’t feel comfortable accusing a group of people or a person of something I’m not sure of. I wouldn't want to do what has been done to me yesterday.

As of this moment, I am done posting about anything else but Buddie or Tommy in function of Buck’s narrative. I will of course also post about all the other characters and the show as a whole. I have always tried to maintain respect when it came to Tommy and the BT fandom. I never used any of the tags this fandom frequents, because that would be disrespectful. Yes, I sometimes gave my opinion and talked about the more radical aggressive stans who for example, harassed other people over many platforms, but I have always maintained that there are a lot of BT fans and multi-shippers in fandom that have nothing to do with this toxicity and I still stand by that. Case in point, the two kind anon messages I got from BT shippers who didn't buy the lies either. Thank you by the way. I appreciate your support. I don’t care what anyone ships or doesn’t ship. Just like I expect other people to not care what I ship or don’t ship. Ultimately, the characters we ship are not real. They are fictional people in a fictional world. It's fun to ship them yes, but they aren't worth all of this insane drama. Drama that affects REAL people in the REAL world by the way!

Yes, I am aware that there are also radical aggressive Buddie stans and yes, I have a lot of them blocked as well. I don’t discriminate on what fandom you’re in. If I see someone suggesting to someone else to do harmful things to themselves, I react by blocking that person instantly, no matter what fandom they are a part of. We are all still living and breathing human beings behind our blog. No one should get things like that thrown at them.

I will continue to post Ali’s posts (anonymous blog I love), but I’m going to ask the anons that send me her posts to only send me messages that have to do with either the show as a whole, other characters, Buddie, Buddie speculation or Tommy and Tommy speculation as a character. He is still a part of Buck’s narrative for now, so I can’t ignore him, even when I really really really want to.

I won’t respond to any asks about any part of the BT fandom and more specifically about those radical stans anymore. So far I have been polite about all the drama, but I am tired of all of it. I don’t wish to spend one more second giving attention to these stans. If you want to still send me something related to that topic, you are free to do so and I will certainly take a look at it, but I won’t respond publicly to anything.

The fact of the matter is that the insane levels of toxicity that have popped up in this fandom have only been here for a couple of months. There was always some level of toxicity, but not to this amount. Like Tim said, it got ugly. I know because I have personally been in this fandom for years now and things have never ever gotten as bleak as what me and two other fans were subjected to yesterday. Do with that information what you will.

Finally, I wonder what drives people to do something like this and I fail to comprehend this kind of behaviour. I sincerely hope that they see the light and put all of their energy in doing something more productive in life, because this is not a healthy way to live their life. I wish them only the best.

All right, now on to normal fandom stuff:

I predict Buddie canon in season 8! 🤞😉

#my blog statement #my blog announcement #Buddie fandom #Moving on to more fun fandom stuff now!

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ikamigami · 4 months

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I'M LEAVING SAMS FANDOM

And I won't continue watching any of these shows..

I decided that I can't enjoy Sun and Moon Show anymore when Davis and EC decided to mock me (and many fans with mental issues) instead of just post something on social media that would clarify everything.

Regardless of their true intentions people were hurt and it doesn't seem like they plan to apologize for this.

They want us fans to feel sorry for the fact that they decided themselves to post these episodes daily and because they're a small team they don't have a time to make their story more clear.

Many people who were self-projecting onto Sun and who made headcanons or just saw him as suicidal did that as a way to cope with their own mental issues and trauma. None of us were forcing anything on Davis and EC.. I definitely wasn't doing that - I don't know them.. I don't even know where they live.. I don't know who they're friends with.. I don't even follow (in a sense that I'm checking their social media) their social media - I only ocassionally see some posts on X from Davis because I followed him but like I said I don't spend my time to see what Davis and EC are doing.. I have my own life, my own struggles to care about and I thought that Sun and Moon Show can be a fun escape for me which turned out to be the opposite..

It hurts a lot because thanks to this show and thanks to Sun's character I finally reflected on myself and my own experiences.. and I was finally able to put together the broken pieces of myself..

They say that we're assuming something about Davis and EC but they're doing exactly the same thing when they portray us as creepy and disturbing fans.

Many people felt disgusted by that episode. And yet they didn't even care to make any clarifications because they don't give a damn.

I'm sorry that I didn't believe those people (who used to be fans of these shows) that Davis and EC don't treat mental issues with respect and that they mock people who have these mental issues.

I'm saying all of this as someone who really tried to defend Davis and EC's decisions many times. Trying to defend the way they portray mental issues. Trying to support them.

And what it left me with? The awful mockery.

I'm sure that they assumed some horrible things about me because of some well known fans in this fandom who were trying to paint me in awful light - that I'm disturbing for relating to Sun in more dark way (I saw Sun's behaviour and thought to myself that he act like me in many situations and the things he went through reminded me of my own experiences hence why I thought that he might struggle with similar mental issues to mine which also include being suicidal - I was passively suicidal for quite some time). These bigger names were laughing at my theories just because they didn't turn out to be true but they didn't care that the topic of suicide is something serious to me. They were bullying me. They also lied that I dragged anyone into discussions about this topic when it never happened. I'm talking mainly about a person behind Twinanimatronics blog. They told this lie when they assumed that I posted something on Tsams Confessions blog - where in fact someone just tried to defend me. And they did all of that behind my back - because they blocked me.

I was spiraling into despair and my mental state worsened when I've seen these awful accusations about me..

This fandom is toxic. Davis and EC can't act like adults but decide to mock fans.. even though the way they portrayed their characters drawed fans who has mental issues because they saw themselves in these characters.. and what they got is awful mockery..

My advice is to avoid Sun and Moon Show and any of these shows especially if you suffer from mental issues and especially if you struggle with suicidal thoughts.

I'm grateful that I met in this fandom some amazing people who showed me tons of support ^^

I can't thank enough to any of them for their support and kindness and lots of care they showed me 💗 Thank you ^^

I'll still keep in touch with my friends who I met through this fandom ^^

#maybe i could write more but i'm tired #i'm tired of all of this #sun and moon show #sams #sams sun #sun and moon show sun #sams moon #sams eclipse #sun and moon show moon #sams fandom #mental health #mental disorders #toxicity

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forcebookish · 1 year

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another little detail i love about top: he loves taking care of mew and it's how he expresses his love.

i've already talked about how he really only bares his fangs when someone insults him or is otherwise rude/mean. at the birthday party, he just kind of stands there uncomfortably while ray goes on his rants.

he switches to his annoyed bitch face when ray calls him an asshole,

but it's not until ray says,

that top truly gets pissed off and shouts at him. this is actually the first time he's shouted in the whole drama, despite being provoked multiple times. he's been a mean girl, he's raised his voice, he's pushed and punched back, but never yelled.

it's at the accusation that top doesn't take care of mew. this is something that top prides himself in, it's extremely important to him that he takes good care of mew.

(and he's not fucking faking it, you weirdos, it's how he expresses his feelings/love for someone. consistently. there has never even been so much as a hint that this isn't true. he feeds mew the night they are formally introduced and you can see it throughout the series, even before he knew that mew had a "checklist," he helped him at school, on the project, and with his laser tag headband. sure, mew is a bottom, but top has no way of knowing that being taken care of is the role that mew likes to take - this is just how he acts in relationships. if it were fake, he wouldn't have told boston in private that he would take care of him in ep 3. that's another thing that makes all these """"theories"""" that top is faking being a good boyfriend so ludicrous. not only do his actions match his words, they match the words that he says when mew isn't around: i want to date him because he's interesting, i'll take care of him, i still like him. these are the scenes where the writers would have clued us in if top's feelings for mew were fake, and boston wouldn't have been able to manipulate them if they weren't genuine. this is, like, writing 101, guys. there's no reason to hide that shit from the audience for that long. you're not slick, you haven't outsmarted the writers. in fact, you're actively ignoring the story they're actually telling and your misreading of these characters is insulting to the actors.)

similarly, while mew is screaming at him about sleeping with boston, he just takes it; he knows he's hurt mew and he's full of regret and guilt and heartbreak. he doesn't defend himself because he knows it wouldn't help and it would sound like a lie. he chuckles unhappily, because it's the moment he's feared; he knew they were on borrowed time. he feels he deserves it (inb4 if you say something snarky like "he did" i will block you lol boston lied to and coerced him by manipulating his feelings for mew, all after sexually assaulting him... and then assaulted him again after; boston had to be physically shoved away and had to be shamed to finally leave top alone).

it's not until mew suggests that top doesn't love him, that their whole relationship was fake that top "fights back."

look at the way he suddenly snaps up to meet his gaze, eyes wide, and then moves his whole body as if to ask, how could you say that?

his whole body language shifts from submissive and barely moving to active and swaying. he fights back, and it's not to defend what he did, it's to defend his love for him. not only that, it's to defend mew - to defend the way that top sees mew. he can't stand the thought that mew would think that's the way he feels about mew - especially when it's pretty much the opposite of what actually happened.

for mew to think top doesn't love him is intolerable. he can't let him believe that everything he's done for him wasn't genuine, that their whole relationship was a lie - he knows how much that hurts. but after he's told that mew can't believe a word he says, top can't even tell him that he loves him.

what was my point? i guess that top is genuinely loving and caring and it's something that is important to him, and that especially he wants mew to feel his love and like he's being taken care of. plus, his never seeking fights but responding with biting comments that pierce through others' insecurities is one of my favorite character traits of his. it's something that's been shown in every episode, and what makes the few moments where he's unable to fight back at all (see: episode 2 and 3 with boston) all the more shocking and meaningful.

anyway, everyone (especially book) did an amazing job, but force really knocked it out the park this episode. the direction for this series is also exceptional. everyone is putting their all into it, literally embodying these characters.

i love top so much sob

#only friends the series #top tanin #topmew #force jiratchapong #ofs liveblog #my caps #usercassi #mjtag

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joyboyish · 8 months

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okok i saw someone talk about how they dont like zolu (which if u dont idc) but it came down to a mass mischaracterization of zoro, luffy, and sanji so i wanted to talk about it

note that the person i saw was a zosan shipper but im not at all saying zolu is better than zosan or that zosan sucks (also sorry if this comes off rude im autistic LOL)

"zolu doesnt work because luffy is aro ace!"

im aspec, but you guys need to realize asexuality and aromanticism is a spectrum. for example: someone whos demisexual would only have romantic/sexual feelings if they already have a close bond with that person. using luffys aromanticism as an excuse to why zolu doesnt work is. weird. aspec people already dont get a lot of rep, but boiling it down to one definition isnt what we are

"if you ship zolu its because of the one piece live action! they straight washed sanji!"

ok this one kind of pissed me off bc😭..... none of the strawhats are canonically queer. you can def hc someone as gay, bi, lesbian, etc. but until oda says something is canon it isnt. for example, i hc zoro as gay and sanji as bi! but neither of these are canon. sanji wasnt straight washed, his characterization is very similar to the animanga, same as the other characters. the only real difference is they toned down a lot of things they werent able to do bc its not animation

"it feels cishet female gaze-y!"

zolu, arguably, has one of the most complex dynamics in the show. zoro has completely dedicated himself to luffy and luffy has pushed him to accomplish his dream. zoro sacrificed himself in thriller bark, giving up his dream, and promise to kuina, and nearly died in the process. zoros unwavering loyalty in luffy and luffys unwavering trust in zoro is part of the main appeal. im not a cishet female, so its probably why most of this got me upset, but i myself hc them both as aspec, and that they arent very sexual people. i wouldnt necessarily call either "female gaze-y" since the male gaze is a product of the patriarchy and the female gaze is more in a "how does this man treat a woman" way but yeah.

if u disagree w me thats ok! u can block me or send me an ask explaining why u prefer zoro and sanjis dynamic! its just not for me! i just think throwing around baseless accusations like straight washing or fetishization is weird

ok bye sorry

#one piece #monkey d luffy #one piece strawhats #straw hat luffy #straw hat crew #monkey d. luffy #straw hat pirates #roronoa zoro #luffy #pirate hunter zoro #zolu

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shina913 · 1 year

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Breakfast | KMG

Breakfast

Pairing: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; SFW

Genre: meet-ugly-turned-meet-cute!AU; fluff

Warnings: cussing; sexually suggestive language but not anything too explicit; mentions of alcohol consumption

Word count: 1.7K words

Summary: While on your walk of shame, you meet an unlikely companion who is doing the same.

A/N: Ah, my first SVT fic!!!!! 🤭 I've been spiraling for a couple of months now and felt the need to channel all of my brain-rot into fic. Please be kind 🥹

You groan, squinting at the early morning sunlight peeking through the blinds. You quickly realize that you are not where you hoped to be— cozy and warm in your own bed—but rather in someone else's.

You glance over to your side but find it empty. Your random Romeo must have gotten up early for coffee or something, but you don't want to stick around to find out. Understandably, you made some poor decisions last night, but you live and learn.

Memories of uncorking and emptying bottles of wine between you and him flash through your mind, but you shake them off. You look around, awkwardly stumbling as you try to retrieve your clothes, phone, and whatever dignity you have left.

Once you’re clothed, you walk into the living room searching for your purse. You find it on the floor, next to the couch. As soon as you grab it, your body jolts when you hear the toilet flushing in the distance. You hastily grab your purse and shoes and race toward the front door. You want to make a quick and quiet exit without looking back before last night’s companion walks into the living room.

You can’t remember much of what happened but you recall drinking enough to forget about something.

Fortunately, it's early enough on a Sunday that the typical neighborhood crowd isn't up yet. Since your phone is dead, you can't call an Uber to take you back to your apartment. Ten blocks shouldn't be too bad...for this walk of shame.

You stare down your path home in silent resignation and shrug. At least the pavement is all flat, and there are no hills to climb.

Everything seems to be going well until someone rushes out of a neighboring building wearing only his pants and a tie around his neck, with what appears to be his shirt balled up in his hand.

Seeing men walking around shirtless was not an unusual sight after living in the downtown area for a while. However, he was certainly a sight to see. Although you may be slightly hungover, it doesn’t stop you from taking a moment to appreciate the view. Suddenly, you find yourself craving breakfast.

“Oh shit,” he curses out loud, his eyes wide as plates when he meets yours.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “You too, huh?” you point at him in jest.

The man scowls at your comment, seemingly offended that you’d insinuate such a thing. He drops his shoes, which you hadn't noticed in his other hand, begins to slip his feet into them, and walks off without saying a word.

You mutter, "Pfft, whatever," out of earshot as he walks away.

However, you happen to be going in the same direction for the next block and a half, so you awkwardly follow behind him as you both cross the street and continue onto the next block.

He unravels his shirt to slip it back on when he happens to glance behind him and finds you there. At first, he ignores it, but he hears the keychain on your purse rattling with every step he takes.

He pauses and abruptly turns around to face you. This takes you by surprise, and you nearly walk into his broad chest.

“What the—“

"You know, people will start to think we did something together last night if you keep following me like this," he accuses.

You raise your eyebrows and scoff. "Please, don't flatter yourself! This is where I'm headed, too." You scan the area. "Besides, I don't see anyone around here that I know. Do you?"

He doesn't respond. Realizing that he was being rude to a stranger, he turns sheepish and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Uh, so...what's your name?" he asks.

His sudden change in demeanor catches you off guard and you squint at him suspiciously. "You first," you reply.

“I’m Mingyu.”

You contemplate giving him a fake name but it feels way too early in the day and too many brain cells to gather for an alias, so you tell him your real name instead.

Mingyu smirks. “Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

“Mingyu, huh?” you say curiously, eyeing his outfit. “Male prostitute?”

He throws his head back, laughing. When he recovers, his expression turns mischievous. "Well, as a matter of fact..."

"Mm...actually, don't answer that," you say as you brush past him, walking toward your apartment. “Good talk. See ya!”

“Hey, hang on! Do you live near here?” he asks as he runs to catch up to you.

You lie. “No. Stop following me,” you say as you try to lose him.

He catches up to you in two strides. “If I remember correctly, you came around the corner and you started following me first,” he says with a grin.

You groan in annoyance. “I was not! The building you ran out of just happened to be in the same direction I was walking,” you say with a frown.

“You’re not very pleasant in the morning, are you?” he remarks.

You stop and turn to him. "Well, sorry if I don't want to make small talk while dressed like this."

"Like what?” He takes a few seconds to rake you from top to bottom, checking you out. “I think you look pretty fucking great," he smiles cockily.

Admittedly, he's smooth, but you don't want to fall into that trap again as you just managed to crawl out of one.

"Likewise, male escort Mingyu," you smirk back at him.

“Don’t your feet hurt from walking barefoot?” he points out as he glances downward.

“No more than walking ten blocks in these heels,” you reply, picking up your stride again. “Besides, my phone is dead so I couldn’t call an Uber to get home faster.”

“I can do that for you!” He chases after you again. “My phone’s got 20%.”

“You seem like a nice guy but I don’t even know you and won’t be able to pay you back.”

“You don’t have to! I’m feeling generous today,” he says with an air of confidence.

“Sure you are,” you retort.

He taps your arm to grab your attention. “Fine, if you won’t take my offer for a ride, here,” he says as he slips out of his shoes to slide them toward your feet. “Wear these.”

“What? Why?” You ask as you stare dumbfounded at him.

“I can’t in good conscience let you walk barefoot that far. Plus, who knows what’s lurking on these streets.”

“Trust me, I’ve walked farther,” you say, briefly recalling other regrettable nights from the past. “I can also put my shoes back on, halfway through.”

He’s still insistent. “Please? Or let me give you a piggyback ride for a few blocks, at least?”

You laugh out loud. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you say to him. Even though judging by the way he’s built, especially those biker’s thighs, he could very well carry you all the way to the next town over.

“As ridiculous as me inviting you for breakfast at my place?” he asks.

Your stand there slack-jawed for a moment. This walk has taken a strange turn but your growling stomach makes his offer tempting, more than his handsome face.

“What does breakfast at your place look like? Cold cereal and burnt toast?”

“Ouch,” he clutches at his chest, feigning offense. “I may not look like it but I actually know how to cook,” he says, sweetening the deal.

You purse your lips. Were you actually considering his offer? “Hypothetically, if I accept your invitation, what would you make for me?”

“Bacon, eggs–cooked any style you want. Maybe some waffles,” he replied with a broad smile. “Hypothetically speaking, of course,” he says with a wink.

He had you at ‘eggs cooked any style you want.’ You sigh at your weakness and look downward at his shoes. “Okay, but these are way too big for me. I could trip and fall into a coma before I even make it there.”

“The piggyback ride offer stands.”

You snort in amusement at how unbelievable this morning has turned.

“I live right over there, see? The blue one.” He juts his chin toward a light blue-hued Victorian duplex at the end of the block.

He's conventionally attractive and his body looks nice, but you literally just bumped into him on the street and now he's inviting you to breakfast at his house? He could be a murderer or some kind of sexual deviant, for all you know.

“I promise I’m not a murderer,” he says, quelling your unspoken suspicions. “If it makes you feel better, my next-door neighbor is a 75-year-old grandma who likes to sit on her front porch during the day. She's practically the neighborhood watch! If I were up to no good, the cops would show up at my door in minutes.”

Just then, your stomach growls embarrassingly loud enough for him to hear.

He smirks in amusement. "At least allow me to make you a fresh pot of coffee. You can recharge your phone and call a car from there. No harm done!"

"Why are you being so nice? I'm still a stranger, you know."

He shrugs. "We both had our own versions of interesting evenings we'd rather forget. Starting the new day on a promising note would be nice, don't you think?"

Your eyebrows quirk at that. Something about his carefree optimism draws you in. And the fact that he can see past your slept-in eye makeup and poor decisions from the night before makes you feel that maybe there are still some genuinely good guys out there.

He holds out his hand, earnestly anticipating your response. You glance at it for a second, sigh, and think, what the heck?

Relenting, you nod your head, and he crouches down, bending his knees to the right level. You step closer and position yourself behind him.

With his gentle assurance, you reach your hands forward and wrap your arms around his shoulders and neck. As you rest your legs on either side of him, he asks for your consent to grip you behind your knees. You give him permission. Despite anticipating it, his strong hands still take you by surprise. You wonder quietly what else they're capable of.

Once you both have a solid hold on each other, he shifts his weight to stand up. After making sure that you are both stable, he turns his head to check on you.

“All good?”

“Yep,” you answer.

“Alright! Let’s make you some breakfast!”

As he carries you toward his building, you smile to yourself. Maybe the walk of shame wasn’t so bad after all.

Main SVT Fic Masterlist

Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

TAGS: @roaminginthenights @yoongukie-ff

#svt fanfic #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu fluff #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt imagines #kim mingyu #seventeen fanfiction

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