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hannieehaee · 5 months ago

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GOODNIGHT N GO

18+ / mdi

summary: having always seen minghao from afar, you always considered him unattainable, with him never interacting with you while his friends brought you around. unbeknownst to you, he had similar thoughts about you, constantly keeping his distance, thinking you must've been interested in his members instead. luckily for you, you had two very meddling friends, too fed up with your mutual idiocy.

content: idol!minghao x hybeidol!reader, reader is mingyu and seokmin's bestie, afab reader, reader is implied to be a 97 liner but its not a huge plot point, acquaintances to lovers, very adorable crushes, assume minghao is a little shier and less social than he seems irl pls, reader is mentioned to have some family troubles, minghao literally courts reader aaahh he's too cute, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation (kind of), dry humping, mentions of pregnancy, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 9.3k

a/n: this is one of my works im least proud of so pls have that in mind as u read<//3

masterlist | patreon

"C'mon, one more drink."

"Yeah, you can't leave yet, it's too early."

"I have a shoot early tomorrow. I can't be hungover for it," you said for the nth time in the past five minutes.

Currently, you were situated in Seventeen's dorm rooms in the Hybe building.

It wasn't too common for groups to stay within the building, seeing as most people had their own individual apartments or homes outside of the premises, but Seventeen would often frequent their own dorms for hanging out purposes, only ever spending the night if they were too tired to make it home.

As per usual, you were hanging out with Mingyu and Seokmin, with Wonwoo and Seungkwan having decided to also make an appearance. It was quite usual for them to keep you around after work (and even to occasionally steal you during working hours). As expected, the overly extroverted 97 liners of the group had taken you under their wing early after your debut, debuting you as a the only female member of the friend group.

Along with you, there were guys from other groups who had also been blessed with a birthday within the year 1997. This, of course, included Xu Minghao, though he was mostly an honorary member, as he mostly kept to himself and never actually joined in with the group. Even after years of being best friends with multiple members of the Seventeen, you were yet to really get to know Minghao. The man remained a mystery to most of those around him.

This was quite unfortunate to you, seeing as you'd developed a bit of an unrequited interest in the guy. There was something about his calm and confident aura that drew you in. Unlike most of his other members, he had a tendency to keep to himself and keep outside social interaction to a minimum. This had at some point caused you to hold the belief that maybe he didn't like you, but your friends had informed you time and time again that this was simply his personality. However, that didn't prevent you from wanting to seek him out (though never actually going through with it).

This was why despite your previous excuse to leave to sleep in early for tomorrow's schedule had been thrown out the window the moment you spotted certain boy with a mullet walk into the room, rubbing at his eyes as if he'd just been awoken.

"What are you guys still doing up? I thought you'd all be gone by now," mumbled the pajama-clad boy, approaching the couch Mingyu was currently leaning back on and taking a seat next to him.

Subconsciously, you straightened your posture, attempting to appear casual at his sudden appearance.

You could count the times you'd been in Minghao's proximity with one hand. Being honest, you weren't quite sure if he even knew who you were past the general knowledge of your role as an idol.

"Sorry, Hao. We forgot you were staying here tonight," apologized Seokmin as he absentmindedly handed the boy an open bottle of soju.

Minghao was joining in on the drinking, it seemed. Naturally, this caused you to comfortably snuggle into the couch and forget all thought of leaving before having that last drink you had been offered just moments prior.

In front of you was a coffee table and two boys sitting on the couch opposite; Mingyu and Minghao. Surrounding you were Wonwoo and Seungkwan, while Seokmin remained standing and leaning against the counter to your right. Despite your distance to Minghao, you had the privilege of having a seat in which you could stare at him without it seeming unnatural.

"Oh, you've met Y/N, right?", Seungkwan suddenly remembered, taking his usual role as mood-maker to make an introduction if need-be.

Minghao finally laid eyes on you for the first time, giving you a polite smile and a subtle bow of his head, "I think a few times. Hi, Nice to see you."

Returning his gesture, you responded similarly, taking your eyes off him right after and giving your attention to the large boy sitting next to him who was now speaking.

"So, staying for that last drink?", he asked you, holding out a glass for you, giving you the option to take or deny it.

"Sure. Just this one," you insisted, grabbing the glass and taking a sip. Cheers erupted from your friends at your agreement to stay, with all of them seemingly tipsy enough to get excited at such a minuscule act.

On your peripheral, you missed how Minghao continued looking your way, smiling softly to himself as he stared.

"Well, that's the last of them," chuckled Minghao the moment Seokmin began slouching back on the couch, clearly falling into deep slumber.

Only an hour later and all four boys had either fallen victim to their drunken state and lost to the battle to slumber, or had made their way to bed before their dignity left them.

In front if you laid a snoring Mingyu as a passed out Seokmin subconsciously attempted to cuddle into him in his sleep. Not too far earlier, the two other boys had left, leaving you and Minghao as the last standing of the night.

As the night had progressed, rearrangements were made to your sitting accommodations, resulting in Seokmin joining Minghao and Mingyu on their couch right after Seungkwan's departure, leading to a peeved out Minghao making his way onto your couch to avoid the two large men bugging him as they got progressively more drunk.

At that moment you wanted to think it might've been an excuse to sit closer to you, but you knew that was just wishful thinking. It was something that made you giddy regardless, as you now found yourself side to side with him, practically alone in the boys' dorm's living room, — ignoring the two sleeping men across you — nursing drinks as your mutual tipsiness accompanied you.

"They were never good drinkers anyway," you responded with a chuckle, resting your back against the back of the couch as Minghao followed along, head slightly turning to face you.

There was a moment of comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your current buzz. Similarly to you, Minghao had chosen to not drink much through the time he'd joined you and the guys, choosing to nurse a single drink through the night. You'd had two, but found yourself still fully lucid.

"I don't think we've ever formally met, huh?", he mused, nodding in your direction.

"A few times, but you never hang around enough for me to get a word out," you agreed.

This pulled a chuckle from him, "Sorry, despite popular belief, I'm not as much of a social butterfly as my bandmates."

"I don't think anyone could possibly be as social as those two," you gestured to the two boys sleeping across from you, "What? You don't enjoy drinking til losing your inhibitions?", you joked.

"I envy them sometimes. I mean, clearly I've been missing out on a lot," he revealed, giving you an unreadable smile.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Haven't made too many friends in the industry so far. I keep to myself too much sometimes, I think."

"Well, you could always join us more often. The guys are always inviting you. We'd all love the company," you encouraged, offering him a smile back.

He hummed at you, "Yeah? I'll take your word for that, then," he leaned over to the coffee table in front of you, putting down both of your drinks before pouring two shots and handing one over to you.

"Here," he clinked with you, "To my new friend," he gave you a confident yet appreciative smile, taking his shot afterwards.

"Oh? Okay, then. Sure," you followed along and took your shot, giggling at how easily he turned up his charm, "So, friends, huh?", you asked after you'd both downed your shots.

He shrugged, "Maybe we'll be the best of them, who knows."

After that night with Minghao, — which was spent drinking and reminiscing on your own personal memories with the two idiots you liked to call your best friends — you began to see him more frequently. You didn't get to know each other too much that night, being far too tipsy and sleepy to make it past an hour of alone time with him. However, his frequent presence helped you grow accustomed to him. It was nice to see the contrast between him and Seokmin and Gyu.

The two of you still didn't talk too much, usually sticking to comfortable silences more than anything else. His company was still always welcome, and very much encouraged by the three of you. Seokmin and Mingyu never questioned his sudden desire to begin taking them up on their offers to hang out, simply accepting his newfound presence as a gift.

You hoped that your crush on the boy wasn't too obvious, but as of now, you were pretty sure you were in the clear. Had those two known of your crush, they would've already ambushed you with a million questions about it. There was also the fact that you didn't want to get in the way of what Minghao clearly wanted to be a friendship and nothing more. Sure, he was very courteous to you, but nothing he ever did or said ever gave you any signal that he meant for your interactions to be anything but platonic.

Any outing between you and Minghao was always crowded with your two other friends. Even if any part of you wanted to act out on your crush, it was practically impossible due to their constant presence. The dynamic you'd quickly formed had been nice, though, as it usually consisted of Seokmin and Mingyu as a duo while you and Minghao stuck to one another. Your calm and introverted demeanors went very well together.

Walking side by side during any outing whilst your two friends led the way, too lost in their own shenanigans, you and Minghao smiled softly to yourselves at the other's company. No words were needed as you enjoyed the breeze of the night. You knew all to well that there'd be news articles on your outing, — yet another sighting of the 97's of SEVENTEEN with Y/G/N's Y/N — but it was such a common occurrence that no one truly paid any mind to it anymore.

"Hey, how about we rent a karaoke room to end the night?", Seokmin had suddenly halted his movements, causing Mingyu to bump into him at his abrupt stop.

Turning to face everyone, he looked around to see who agreed with his proposition. You'd already spent most of the afternoon at a restaurant nearby and walked through the streets of a populated clubbing area, so karaoke was not too out of the question in the context of the night.

Mingyu expressed his enthusiastic agreement, turning to you to see if you were down for it too. You noticed Minghao's eyes on you too, giving you an encouraging smile that let you know that he was interested in hearing your response before giving his own.

"How about we head back home and do karaoke there? There's probably already a ton of pictures of us hanging out today," you reasoned, not wanting to end the night just yet but also taking in mind your role as an idol.

Mingyu boo'd at you, "That's boring! I don't wanna go home yet," he pouted, clearly demonstrating how tipsy he currently was.

Seokmin agreed, "We can buy those fruity drinks you like at the norebang, c'mon," he insisted, "Myungho, what do you think? You've never tagged along to the norebang with us, I'll pay," he offered, tugging at Minghao childishly.

Minghao turned to look at you, "Be gentlemen," he scolded, walking over to your side to face them, "If she wants to head home then we head home," he affirmed, rolling his eyes at his friends' exaggerated groans of complaint.

"Thank you, Hao," you nodded at him with a smile, sticking your tongue out childishly at the other two boys.

Seokmin headed over to your side to hold your hand whilst Gyu now stuck by Minghao, walking in pairs of two once more as you turned back to head over to the car you'd arrived in. Looking back, you caught Minghao's eye, also catching sight of a subtle smile thrown your way.

It took you very little to arrive to your apartment, with the two boys making their way in ahead of you as if they owned the place. You couldn't blame them, knowing they were very used to coming over quite frequently. Minghao, on the other hand, stayed behind with you, waiting for you to welcome him in. He was very cordial and reserved, something which endeared you to no end.

Entering, you lost sight of your other two friends, who were probably already situated in the large living room located upstairs, ransacking you of any alcohol and entertaining themselves with your karaoke system. Meanwhile, Minghao continued to follow your slow movements, waiting by your side as you locked the entrance door. His hands remained intertwined on his back, giving him a posture you would only really expect from royalty.

Smiling at you, he nodded silently as if to encourage you to move forward so he could follow you along the length of your home.

"Show me around? Looks like the guys are already really familiar with the place," he suggested with a smile.

"Yeah," you chuckled, "They're here a lot. Wonwoo banned any group hangouts at his and Mingyu's, and Vernon sleeps early, so we never really go to Seokmin's. I live alone and the place is pretty big, so they crash here a lot," you explained, beginning to walk into the entrance hallway, "I'll show you around. It's uselessly big. I mostly have spare rooms for leisure," you explained, walking by the various rooms of what could very well be called a mansion due to its size. Large homes like these were common amongst idols, though many of them usually shared with other members.

"It's pretty," he said as he looked around, stopping by a certain painting hanging on your wall.

"My place or the painting?", you asked, standing to his side, "Mingyu made it," you gestured to the painting.

"Yeah, it looked familiar," he nodded, eyes still on it, "You're pretty close with Gyu," he stated, though it gave you the intonation of wonder.

You nodded at him, "He was my first friend when I became an idol. I probably wouldn't have met most of my current friends if it wasn't for him. He's too outgoing for his own good," you shrugged, reminiscing on how you'd met Mingyu and consequently every other member of what came to become the 97's squad, along with most Seventeen members.

"I can relate to that," he began walking further into your home, with you following along, "He was my first friend in Seoul. Didn't care about the language barrier at all, always tried to make me feel welcome," he seemed to reminisce too.

"Yeah, that's Mingyu," you joined with a smile, "I'd say I'm equally close to Seokmin, though. You? Any favorites?", you joked.

"Hmm, those two? Not really, but like I told you, I'm interested in getting close to someone else," he subtly bumped shoulders with you as he walked, chuckling when you did it back.

"Yeah? Well, maybe I'll have to rethink my favorites also," you smiled back with suggestion in your eyes.

This came to be a common occurrence between you — silent yet comfortable smiles.

Making your way upstairs, you made a stop by a balcony located just before the living room, from which you could already hear Seokmin and Mingyu taking liberal use of through the karaoke you had installed. Sharing a laugh, you and Minghao walked over to the veranda and took in the night's breeze.

"I'm going back to China soon," he suddenly said, "We're mostly on a break for two months while Wonwoo and Jeonghan hyung go through their comeback. I'm sure the guys must've told you?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I went to visit them during rehearsals once or twice. How long will you be gone?" you couldn't help but show your disappointment.

"Sad? We barely met each other," he nudged your shoulder again, "Just two weeks. Been wanting to see my parents for a while."

"Aw, that's nice. I'm sure they must miss you," you coo'd, sniffling at the chilly weather.

"Cold? Wanna head back inside?" he asked, nodding when you shook your head in negation, "Yeah, I miss them too. Love them more than anything. It's the one downside to our career," he went on to respond to your question.

"That must be really nice. I'm glad you get to see them soon," you expressed your genuine happiness at him being able to go back to his home country. He truly seemed like the type of guy who lived and breathed for his family — at least going by how he treated the second family he found with his members.

"How about you? Gyu told me you're on rest. Visiting family any time soon?", he wondered, suddenly shoulder to shoulder with you, continuing to look forward as he leaned on the veranda.

"Uh, nope. I don't really see them often," you mumbled, "It's been a while, actually," you continued, sure your body language told on you. Minghao must've caught on to this, allowing the hand he had resting on the veranda to slide over and next to your own hand, gracing the back of your palm with his pinky.

It was such a small gesture, yet entirely too sweet for you to take in without blushing to yourself.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, letting a moment of silence pass before continuing to speak with that soft voice of his, "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but ... you're always welcome in my home. My mom would love you," he assured.

You chuckled, "Yeah? You sure? You barely met me," you teased by mirroring his earlier statement, returning his gesture and letting your fingers trace his own absentmindedly on the veranda.

"Just a hunch. If I like you, then she'd love you," he reaffirmed.

"Oh, so you like me?", you finally turned to face him, smiling teasingly.

"Thought I was clear about that," he cocked his head in mock curiosity, smiling back at you, "Gotta be more assertive, got it," he murmured mostly to himself afterward, finally disconnecting himself from the veranda and beginning to walk away, stopping to gesture you follow him.

"C'mon, they'll get too drunk if we don't go babysit them," he reminded you, holding out his hand to guide you into your own home — it was a bit ridiculous, but you could tell soft touches and stolen glances were a big thing with him, and who were you to complain?

As expected, the guys ended up staying the night, too exhausted to get themselves off your couch until the following morning. Minghao, unlike them, did not reach a drunken state that impeded him from leaving, but it was silently agreed between the two of you that you did not want him to leave, nor did he want to be deprived of your company.

While the guys stayed passed out on the couch, you offered Minghao one of your spare rooms, something which made you feel slightly excited. Sure, you weren't sharing a bed or anything like that, but you'd still be waking up to Minghao in your home, and that was a win in your book.

Waking up, you headed to the kitchen, finding all your friends gathered in the interconnected dining room as they nursed their hangovers. Minghao had taken the liberty of making tea, smiling at you as he bid you good morning.

Heading over to where he leaned against the kitchen counter, you took the cup from him with a 'thank you,' blushing to yourself when his hand made contact with your hip as you turned around to lean on the counter next to him. The contact had clearly been with the intention to prevent you from hitting yourself against the counter, but it had still been to par with the cordial and charming persona Minghao carried with him, resulting in you swooning over him yet again.

Distracting yourself, you chose to make conversation with the two boys in front of you, chuckling at how exhausted they seemed (though out of their own volition).

"Do you guys have to drink yourselves into a coma every time you come over?" you deadpanned, earning a chuckle from Minghao.

"It'd be more fun if you joined us in blacking out," groaned Mingyu, "Not fair we're the only ones singing karaoke while drunk."

"Did I hold a gun to your head and tell you to chug or you'd die? You're just a sore loser. Not my fault Hao and I beat your score cause you were too drunk to sing," you retaliated, earning a hesitant hum in agreement from Seokmin, who was still silently suffering on the table in front of you.

"Anyways, what do you guys want to do today?", Mingyu changed the subject, "Norebang? Wanna call up Kook and Jaehyun? Or we could go to that Bruno Mars concert Jihoon suggested? Thoughts? Opinions?"

"How are you not dead right now? You drank twice as much as that guy and he's practically dead?" you gaped at him, pointing at the shell of a man that Lee Seokmin seemed to become during hangovers. Meanwhile, Minghao watched you with amusement, quietly enjoying your banter with his friend.

"Hao leaves soon, so we need to take advantage of all the time we have left!" he insisted, "We start promotions almost as soon as he returns and you'll probably be off your break by then. C'mon!"

"What do you think?", you turned to Minghao, "Concert? Norebang, again? What did you wanna do?"

He shrugged, "Whatever you want, I'm down," he sipped at his tea.

Seokmin began to gain consciousness again as he joined the conversation, "Jihoonie only has three extra tickets to Bruno Mars and Nonnie is going, remember, Gyu?", he stressed toward his friend, "And we already agreed we'd go, so you two are gonna have to find something else to do," he frowned, "Sorry, Y/N."

"What do you mean? Jihoon said he had five ti- ow, fuck," Mingyu groaned halfway through his statement, wincing as he hunched over on his seat in what seemed to be pain. Looking over at Seokmin for half a second before responding, his facial expression went from annoyed to normal as he responded again, "Right, I forgot, uh, he already gave out the tickets, sorry. I forgot I already made plans with Min and Jihoon for that," he rasped.

"Yeah, Hao can probably keep you company, though, right, Hao?", interrupted Seokmin, Mingyu nodding along, "We can meet at the afterparty after the concert. Jihoonie can probably get you guys in," he suggested.

As odd as the sudden lack of insistence that you join them at the concert was, you ignored it, opting to just take advantage of the opportunity to get some alone time with Minghao. Turning to your side, you could notice the remnant of a scowl on his face directed at Mingyu, but it immediately turned into a smile as soon as he faced you.

What you didn't notice, though, were the dumb smiles exchanged by your two friends as they watched you and Minghao for the rest of the time spent in your home, often removing themselves from the conversation if it meant you and Minghao got more alone time with one another.

Having any time spent without Minghao after that was practically unheard of. Being mutually on a break of sorts, it was easy to see each other quite often. The guys always enjoyed your company, and even more so that of Minghao's due to how rare it had been for him to join them in outings prior to this, so it was common for you to find yourself near the duo (+ Minghao) a few times a week.

Although you'd sometimes be joined by other 97 liners in the industry or various other members of Seventeen, it was hard to not take notice of the way in which Minghao would gravitate to you almost immediately. He gave you his utmost attention, opening doors for you, ordering your meals for you (with surprising knowledge of your taste), texting you good morning and good night, and even insisting he and the guys drop you off at home any time you hung out.

If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was trying to show romantic interest in you. However, you had quickly caught onto Minghao's courteous behavior towards everyone in his life. This was something he had even let you in on, telling you about his upbringing and even sometimes apologizing if he appeared too formal for his age. You always encouraged him, however, letting him know how much you appreciated how much of a gentleman he was — it was a nice contrast from your brotherly dynamic with his groupmates.

Trying not to visibly swoon at every act of service Minghao did for you proved to be a feat. Sometimes you'd have to take a breather to hold yourself back from throwing yourself at him. It was pathetic, really, how into him you were within such a short time of becoming his friend. But this was something you had to keep to yourself, not wanting to ever make him uncomfortable or halt his behavior.

It only became worse with time as you spent more and more time together. Mingyu and Seokmin were quite popular amongst idols, each having various friend groups to hang out with during their time off. You were sure Minghao must've also had many friends (despite his claims otherwise — he was too likable to be friendless), but he had chosen to spend most of his time before going to China with you. Claiming your hopes were up would've been an understatement. It was impossible to not want nor hope for Minghao to make a move and explicitly ask you out, but he never did. What he did do, however, was choose you to be the last person he saw before leaving Korea for the following two weeks.

Inviting you over to his place that night, Minghao had let you know that this was his last night in Korea before heading to China for the next two weeks. After having gotten close to you for the past two months, he had decided that you'd be the best company possible for a quiet evening in before departing. You didn't have it in you to even question why he'd pick you over his own groupmates, simply happy to spend time with him with the knowledge that you wouldn't get to do so for a while.

"Sorry for the short notice," he apologized as he approached you on the couch with a glass of wine, "But we've been hanging out so much, it felt natural to ask you over."

You hummed in agreement, "Should I ask why Seokmin and Gyu weren't invited or should I ignore it and take advantage of the extra wine?", you asked as you took a sip of said wine.

"They're too loud," he groaned exaggeratedly, "You're quiet, like me. Your company's too nice to pass up while I can have it," he added, joining you in your drinking.

"You can always just call me while you're there," you reminded him, "The guys call me all the time when they're overseas."

"I will be calling you," he affirmed, "But it's different in person. I'll still miss your company," he shrugged.

"I really did become your favorite, huh?" you teased, "Beat them all for first place in just two months," you were joking, but he still nodded in affirmation, chuckling along with you.

Grabbing onto the wine bottle he had laid in front of you, you went to top him off when you realized his glass was almost empty, only to be stopped by him.

"My plane's in a few hours, I can't drink too much. Being tipsy on a plane is one of the worst feelings."

"A few hours? You said tomorrow," you gaped at him.

"Well, it's 11:38, so it technically is tomorrow," he shrugged.

You sat up straight, "Dude, you should be leaving already. Why are we even here? Should I drive you? I can call my driver, he'll be here in-"

He grabbed onto your shoulders, halting your movements, "Calm down, my manager already had all my things sent over and the airport is only like twenty minutes away," he started with a calm voice, "Sorry I called you so late, we had a short promo to do earlier today, so my day got taken up at the last minute and I really wanted to say goodbye," he explained.

"Minghao, it would've been fine if you just left, I don't want to make you late."

"I didn't want to leave with no warning. It'd be rude of me to neglect saying goodbye to someone I care about," he said in the plain and cordial way in which he always spoke, grabbing onto your hand and tracing it like he had grown a tendency of doing.

Once more, it was hard not to swoon at such a small detail — the insistence in complicating his day only to make sure he didn't somehow make you feel neglected. Most people would've settled with a simple phone call or even just contacting you incessantly he returned, but Minghao wasn't like most people.

You looked down, nodding, "Thank you. That's sweet of you to say."

"I know it's only two weeks, but I'll still miss you. It's rare for me to really get close to anyone in the industry," he explained.

You nodded in agreement, "Yeah, me too. It kind of sucks since I'll be off my break by the time you come back and we probably won't be able to hang out as much anymore," you mumbled.

"I'll still be free. I'll come to you," he reassured, "Maybe we can finally hang out without the guys getting in the way," he smiled, "Just you and me?"

There was a slight suggestion in the background of your conversation. It was somewhat clear to you that you weren't speaking of mere friendship anymore. The moment was tender and suggestive, leaving room for something more. If you were mere friends, Minghao probably wouldn't have insisted in seeing you or been as communicative as he been so far. He wanted to make sure he preserved the friendship through his absence, however short it would be.

However, this was too much to get into knowing he'd be leaving likely within the hour. Instead of getting into it, you simply nodded along, cracking another joke about how loud and all over the place your friends could be. Despite offering to go with him to drop him off at the airport, he declined, insisting his driver drop you off home before he left for his flight. With a hug goodbye, he left you there, promising to call once he arrived and expressing that he'd miss you once again.

After two months of spending almost every day together, you felt genuine sadness at his sudden absence. Maybe it was dramatic of you to feel sad over such a short period of separation, but Minghao just had that effect on people — or at least you. He had taken such a quick interest in you that made you feel like the only girl in the world. It was specially bothersome to know that you'd both be too busy to see each other by the time he came back, but you were happy he'd get to see his family after so long.

With these thoughts, you went to sleep, waking up the next morning to a call from Minghao informing you of his arrival and of how content he was to be with his family. Being the last person he saw and first he contacted made your heart soar, whilst also making you frustrated at the back and forth that had been going on between you since you met him.

You needed him to make a move soon, or else you'd grow insane.

"You know he likes you, right?", asked Mingyu quite abruptly one day.

Only five days after Minghao's absence and you found yourself hanging out with your favorite dynamic duo yet again. Any time you had off was usually spent either with your own group or with them; it was the same for Seok and Gyu, who would always seek you out if possible.

"Who?", you asked despite having certain idea of who he was talking about.

"Boo, don't play dumb, its boring," joined in Seokmin, sitting next to you on the couch whilst the three of you engaged in a somewhat intense game of Mario Kart in Mingyu's living room. Wonwoo had decided to join in this time.

"Who are we talking about?", murmured Wonwoo distractedly as he annihilated the three of you at the game.

"Minghao," they both responded at once.

"Oh, yeah, absolutely," he agreed nonchalantly.

Suddenly you fell off a cliff in the game, having your character be fished away from the precipice and placed back on the race track as you widened your eyes at the statement.

"What? You know? How would you even know?," you rasped, completely caught off guard by the sudden (yet somewhat expected) revelation. You had hoped Minghao would confess to you at some point, or even occasionally convinced yourself it was all in your head. What had been low in your list of expectations had been your friends informing you of his feelings in his absence.

"He talks about you any time you're not around," Wonwoo began with a monotonous tone as most of his attention was taken up by the game, "He never leaves home, yet he's been doing it every day since he met you, he has that dopey smile all the time now. I don't know, it's just kinda obvious," he finished, chuckling when he realized he crossed the finish line.

"If Wonwoo can tell but you can't, we have a problem," said Seokmin, groaning at his loss in the game.

"I don't know," you shrugged, completely ignoring the game now, "We're friends. I know he acts a certain way, but I think he would've already said something if he liked me like that."

"He's just shy. And he's very particular about who he lets in. The fact he keeps coming back means he must really like you," emphasized Mingyu, sitting back against the couch with you.

"We've already been trying to get you guys alone as much as possible, but you're taking too long to tie the knot," added Seokmin, followed by nods from the other too.

"So what am I supposed to do with this information? Do I ask him out or-"

You were met with a chorus of 'No!'s, making you immediately shut your mouth.

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder," quoted Wonwoo, "He'll ask you out once he's back for sure."

Mingyu nodded in agreement, "He wasn't super direct about it, but he implied to us that he would, so yeah, be ready."

The thought made your heart race. How were you supposed to speak to him again after this without becoming a mess at the thought of your crush being reciprocated? Fuck, you even went as far as to wish you'd followed him all the way to China. The two wait week for him to come back suddenly felt like too much.

Both your thoughts and conversation were interrupted by the sudden vibration of your phone, leading three sets of eyes to turn to your direction.

"Let me guess," laughed Seokmin, wiggling his eyebrows at the implication of who may be calling at that moment.

"He never calls me, yet you've known him for two months and you get a daily call," Mingyu sulked jokingly as you went to pick up, ready to leave the room so you could answer the phone, "If you don't realize he likes you, then you're dumb."

"Don't tell him we told you," rasped out Seokmin before you were out of his line of fight, earning a nod from you before you picked up and left.

Walking into the room next door, you sat on Mingyu's bed as you finally responded, "Hello?"

"You looked beautiful today, you know," were Minghao's first words in response, "Gyu sent me some pictures you guys took yesterday. God, you look breathtaking."

You were unaware that Mingyu had sent Minghao the pictures he'd taken of you the day prior in which you went clubbing, something you were yet to do with Minghao as of yet. The implication of Minghao asking Mingyu for pictures of you made you blush.

"Stop flattering me," you groaned, attempting to keep control of your voice, knowing your nosy friends likely had their ears to the door.

"What, can't I appreciate beauty? I'm kind of jealous the guys got to see you all dressed up," he mumbled with amusement in his voice.

"Well, maybe don't leave the country next time," you teased, "I'll tell the guys to take you clubbing as soon as you're back," you promised, "Then maybe you can see me in a dress."

"Oh, is that a promise?", you could hear the teasing lip bite from your end, "Nah, not really a clubbing person. How about I make you dinner? Then you have another reason to wear a dress for me," he suggested.

For him. God, he wanted you dead.

You internally groaned at how smooth he was, "I feel like I should be the one cooking you dinner. As a welcome, you know?," you suggested instead. There was something about Minghao that made you want to throw everything away just to husband him up.

"You don't have to go out of your way. I should be the one treating you, it's what's right," he argued softly, "All you have to do is meet me at my place in a pretty dress, okay? I'll take care of the rest."

"Okay, you wore me down," you whined, "Damn you, Xu, you're good at this."

"Only with you," he murmured back.

The rest of the conversation went as your talks usually did. It was filled with updates from his day to day with his family and your own occurrences with your groupmates and friends. You kept him up to date with the happenings with Seok and Gyu, knowing he was more privy to calling you than them. The unspoken suggestion of you being of his utmost interest remained there, though nothing was ever explicitly said. Even as he asked you to go over to his place, you were unsure if it was meant as romantic date or if that'd come later. It made you giddy, but also far too excited to wait.

The two weeks passed faster than expected. Minghao's absence was barely felt, specially due to how constant his communication with you remained. The good morning messages, pictures, updates and lengthy phone calls never ceased, even consistently interrupting your time hanging out with your two shared friends. Any time you were on the phone with Minghao, you'd be met with teasing looks and exaggerated kissy sounds coming from either Seokmin or Mingyu (occasionally even Wonwoo or any other member who was present at the moment).

You had been completely worn down by both Minghao and his friends. The constant back and forth was enough to make you completely defenseless to Minghao's charm, but his friends' open teasing only made you more and more certain in Minghao's feelings for you.

Today was finally the day of his return, in which you found yourself getting ready to go meet him at his place. You'd insisted in picking him up (knowing Mingyu and Seokmin would also be getting him), but Minghao insisted you stayed behind, telling you he wanted to wash himself up and cook dinner before seeing you — Mingyu would be helping with the cooking.

You were anxious yet excited as you knocked on his door, though unsure if you'd be walking into a group meeting or a one-on-one between you and Minghao.

As soon as he opened the door, he offered you a soft hug, burying his face in your neck before even speaking, "Missed you," he mumbled, humming when you parroted the words back at him.

Disconnecting from him, you blushed when his hand immediately went to your own, leading you into his apartment with ease. His thumb played with the back of your palm whilst moving towards his couch, which had two plates of what looked to be like a luxurious meal — courtesy of Mingyu's cooking.

Sensing your eyes on the food, he spoke up, "Mingyu helped me make it. It's my mom's recipe," he informed you, "I'll let you eat soon, okay? Just ... There's something else I want to show you first, wait here," he let go of your hand as you stood in the middle of the living room, leaving the room for a few moments before returning with a small box.

Walking towards you with an excited smile, he became a little shier once he made eye contact with you. Your hands went up to receive the small box from him, his fingers gracing your own as he handed it over. A slight meeting of shy gazes was shared, but both your eyes went back to the box mere seconds later.

"You got me this? Hao, you really didn't have to," you murmured, opening it and gasping lightly at its content — it was a golden necklace; a little worn, but beautiful.

"It's my mother's," he started, enveloping your hands as they held onto the necklace, "I, uhm, I told her about you, and she insisted I bring this back to you," he explained, smiling down at you as you gaped at him, surprised he'd tell his mom about someone he'd just barely met, "She said I should give it to someone special. My dad gave it to her when they first started dating and she's kept it ever since."

"What?", your eyes widened attempting to hand back the piece of jewelry, "Hao, I- I can't accept this, it must mean a lot to your mom, I-"

He chuckled, interrupting you as he enclosed the necklace in your hands, "Please, Y/N, it's fine," he murmured once securing the necklace in your hold, "Here, at least try it on," he suggested as he gestured for you to turn around, now grabbing onto the necklace himself.

You followed along wordlessly, removing any obstacle from your neck and baring it for him to secure the necklace around your neck. His nimble feelings traced the back of your neck softly, leaning down to practically breathe you in as he adjusted it to perfection. Slowly, his face approached the back of your neck, nose and lips tracing your skin silently. You could feel the breath of his touch grace against your skin, forming goosebumps in its wake.

"You're so special to me, which is why I wanted you to have this," he breathed out, "But you already know that, right? How special you are to me?", he slowly turned you around, face still semi-buried in your neck. It was impossible to make eye contact due to the close proximity between you, but you could tell his eyes were heavy as he stared down at the skin of your neck.

Just as slowly as before, he separated from you, noses practically touching as he finally looked down into your eyes. His hand went up to your chin, making sure you were facing him just like he was you.

"Hao, I-"

"Sorry I waited so long," he chuckled lightly, "I wanted to make sure you liked me back before I made a move. Wanted to make you comfortable and get to know you, but it was hard to hold back sometimes," he explained, eyes going from your eyes to your lips, "Did I already tell you how beautiful you look tonight?", he interrupted his confession with a breathless chuckle as he allowed himself to look you up and down.

"Not yet, but-"

"Sorry, you look amazing. Is it all for me? Or is this reserved for friends too?", he asked as he bit a smile back, letting it break through when he registered your confusion, "I, uh, I used to think maybe you liked Mingyu, but that's not the case right? This is mutual. The guys see it too, I think. I know I haven't been too forward, but you understand my feelings, right?", he questioned, practically breathing you in.

Your breath was heavy at the confession, eyes trapped between locking on his eyes and lips, but eventually remaining stagnant on his lips. At some point, his hands went down and hesitantly made their way to your waist, pulling your body towards his when his act met no resistance.

"Hao, I- I like you too, I thought-," you cleared your throat and tried again, "I thought maybe you only liked me ad a friend, but, fuck, you like me too? I- I need to hear you say it," you let out, shocked any words could possibly come out of your lips when your brain kept screaming at you to kiss him.

Minghao appeared to have a similar idea, choosing to let hid actions speak for him rather than his words. The minute space between you became nonexistent when he kissed you, sighing softly into your lips when your mouth instantly opened for his.

The kiss wad soft and innocent; simply a demonstration of his feelings for you. He breathed out an 'I like you; so much,' into your lips after a few moments, but no response from you was permitted as he locked lips with you once more.

Any softness or innocence left the kiss soon after. It wasn't filthy by any means, but it was unexpectedly intense. Minghao seemed to be reading into your reactions, drinking in any sighs and moans coming from your lips and acting on them by kissing you harder, by slipping his tongue in your mouth, by softly pushing you against a wall and trapping you with his touches.

"Ha-hao," you moaned out between kisses, unsure of what you even wanted to say.

"Is this okay? I'll stop, just-"

You shook your head, cutting him off with a kiss, "Don't stop. Take me to your room," those were the last coherent words to leave you that night, earning a breathless chuckle from Minghao as he held your hand and led you to his room, food completely ignored.

Once in his room, you were led to his bed, though he stopped you before you could get in it, turning you around to kiss you again. His hands went back to your waist, rubbing up and down your back almost innocently. Your hands were the ones to become braver, going from playing with his hair to the front of his dress shirt, toying at the buttons and undoing the first few.

This silent demonstration of need made Minghao's hands become bolder, going down to your ass and kneading it. It was a back and forth. Any time you did something bold, he did too, going from your unbuttoning of his shirt to him throwing off your dress. You quickly ended up in your underwear while he stood in front of you shirtless and with unbuttoned pants.

His lips finally left yours, kissing down your neck and collarbones, heavy breath fogging against your skin while his hands explored your body. Your sighs occasioned groans from him along with mumbles filled with praise.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he sighed as he rested his forehead on your chest, taking a moment to breathe you in. Disconnecting himself from you, he finally looked you up and down, smiling softly at you before biting his lip from preventing his smile from growing any bigger, "You're gorgeous ... You're art. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and ... and I want you so bad," his voice grew deeper by the end of his statement.

He gently pushed you down, allowing you to lay back on the bed while he knelt before you. His hands felt the expanse of your legs, mouth gluing to the side of your knee and laying a soft kiss there. Upon noticing your reaction, more kisses joined the first one, trailing up and down your thighs while you looked down at him with a pained look in your eye. He seemed troubled with what he wanted to do first, needing to touch and kiss you all over.

"Can I?" he asked when his lips came far too close to your center, eyes hooded with desire.

No words left you, just a nod, but it was enough for Minghao to push your panties aside and go to town.

With a single lick, he went from slit to clit, groaning at the first contact. No more tentative touches came after that, only a mess of his tongue and lips drowning in you as his arms held your legs to prevent the incessant grinding of your hips against his face.

He ate you out expertly, moaning liberally against you as if the pleasure was all his own. His lips trapped your clit, sucking it in while his eyes rolled back. As much as your eyes attempted to close, you couldn't stand a single second in which you didn't get to see him as he gave you pleasure.

Your first orgasm came quickly, but it never fully subsided as his lips continued to lick and suckle at you, with his fingers even joining in to open your lips up for better access for his tongue. The wet noises were too explicit for you to process, but they only added to your sensitivity. Minghao ignored any whines for him to stop, taking note of how your words contradicted your actions. — your hands kept pushing his head back in while you whined 'it's too much!' at him — Your body clearly wanted more, and Minghao seemed too pleased to provide.

"Cum again," he rasped, "Wet my face and cum," he practically demanded, "You're so beautiful when you cum."

His hips would occasionally cant against the mattress, which made your eyes roll back any time you felt it. It wasn't a conscious nor active action, seemingly only happening every so often when he was too distracted to hold back. It made your stomach cave in, only able to picture how those same hips would likely be hammering into you in just a few moments.

With only a few more seconds of exploring your cunt with his tongue, Minghao happily claimed your second orgasm, licking into you throughout the entirety of your high as he had done the previous time. This time, however, you pulled him away, silently encouraging him to make his way back to your lips and trapping him in a wet kiss.

He practically fed you your own juices, murmuring praise into your mouth as his hips began grinding into your sensitive cunt.

"You were so good for me, sweetheart."

"Tasted so good for me, fuck, taste just as beautiful as you look."

"Yeah? Too sensitive, baby? 'm sorry, angel. Couldn't help myself."

"Do you feel that? I'm- I'm gonna fuck you with that. Is that okay, beautiful? Hmm? You want it, huh?"

He took advantage of every whine and cry of his name that came after each statement, sucking into your tongue any time your mouth would open for him. His hips took no rest either, grinding directly against your swollen cunt as the zipper pressed up against you in such a painful yet pleasurable way.

Pulling away with a low chuckle at your whines in complaint, he threw off his pants and boxers, smiling down at the thirsty look in your eye upon seeing him.

"Want it, pretty?", he coo'd, bringing your hand up to his cheek and turning his face to kiss the back of your palm lovingly, "I'll give it to you, beautiful. Don't even have to do anything, just stay right there, okay, angel?", he said as he reached back to his pants, taking out a condom and wasting no time in putting it on.

He teased you no further, likely very sensitive himself after granting you two orgasms and dry humping you against his better judgment. You made him lose control, and you enjoyed it greatly despite being such a mess under him at that moment.

Entering you, he kissed you, swallowing your gasp of pleasure. He gave you a few moments before silently asking for permission to move, humping into you the moment you nodded in agreement.

As per usual, his gallantry showed once more as his hands found your own and intertwined above your head. His hips moved expertly yet at a pace that could only be described as sensual. The only time his hands left you was to remove your bra, but immediately went back to holding your hands while his lips found their way to your nipples, calling you every synonym of beautiful as he made love to you.

"Like you so much, beautiful," he breathed, his lips finding your own again, "Want to keep you all to myself. Can I? Wanna take you back home and- fuck, and introduce you to my parents," he rambled breathlessly as his hands wrapped around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer, "Wanna give you a ring and a house ... Make you a mom," he groaned at the mere mention, "Is it too soon? Just ... Like you so fucking much."

You wanted to reciprocate so badly, but your mouth would not emit any noise that wasn't an incoherent whine of his name. You opted for nodding enthusiastically, dragging your nails down his back as your orgasm approached.

Like the perfect man he was, he knew when to bring his fingers to your clit, causing your back to arch against him and rob you of the last bit of your voice that remained. You cried his name as your high arrived, gasping hiccups of pleasure that drew him into his own orgasm. Confessions of care and affection for one another were had, though no proclamations of love were made. That would come later, you were sure. Your shared words were enough for you to know the feeling was there.

He gave no time for you to move as he slipped out, throwing away his condom and tucking you next to him as he nuzzled against you whilst attempting to regain his breath. Kissed were laid against any bit of skin available to him, hands pressing you up against him.

"I'll clean you up and let you go pee in a second, just let me keep you for five minutes," he sighed with contentment.

"No complaint from me," you responded, equally in need of his affection, "We still have to talk about what you said, though," you giggled, earning a loving bite from him.

"I meant it," he mumbled, "I know it's soon, but I also know how much I like you. And I know you like me just as much," he said with certainty.

"You'll have to wait til at least the third date for further discussion about impregnating me," you joked, "But I'm not against it," you whispered the last part, earning a squeeze from him as he chuckled along with you.

"Go pee," he said when he finally separated from you, "I'll keep the bed warm for you and then I can finally give you that meal I made you."

Reluctantly, you got up, looking back at him from the bathroom door as he smiled with unfiltered happiness in his eyes.

You practically squealed with giddiness as soon as you closed the door, far too happy with today's events. Unbeknownst to you, Minghao had a similar reaction on the other side of that door.

to read short 2.3k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: newbf!minghao, idol!au, hao is down bad horribly, teasing from his members, afab reader, smut, body worship, very soft!!, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 755 (teaser); 2304 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"So, how long did you guys plan this?", you asked as you mindlessly toyed with Minghao's hair, his attention likely in another dimension.

"Since the first time you guys met," responded Mingyu nonchalantly, continuing to press at the buttons of his controller and paying you almost no mind. Similarly, his gaming partners Dokyeom and Wonwoo had their focus at least 90% on the screen rather than on the conversation.

"What, so years ago? We've only really known each other for like five months," you questioned, not believing your relationship with Minghao had truly been orchestrated by the three dummies sitting one couch away from you.

"Six months and two weeks," corrected Minghao lazily, humming at your fingers running through his hair.

"He knows the exact date? God, he's whipped. Kyeom was right about setting you guys up," commented Mingyu with a chuckle.

The conversation felt entirely one-sided, though you knew your friends had developed a finessed skill at gaming whilst still giving you just enough of their attention for a conversation.

Currently, you were the main character of the conversation at hand, seeing as Seokmin had let it slip that he and the rest of your friends had designed a plan play Cupid and form a relationship between you and Minghao. You believed them to be too disorganized and impatient for such a thing, but decided to question them regardless — for entertainment if for any reason.

"Oh, so now it was Seokmin's idea?", you asked with amusement, shuffling to the side of the couch when you sensed Minghao getting up from lying on your lap. Without much effort you morphed into another comfortable position, this time with your legs on top of Minghao's as he cuddled into you, face buried in your neck to nuzzle into your skin.

Your friends had gotten used to your couple-y disposition quite quickly, only gagging at the sight occasionally but never truly bothered by it.

"Yes, ma'am," responded Seokmin in a jokingly formal manner.

"How did this come about?", you continued with the questions while Minghao continued to remain completely disengaged in the conversation, his only interest being the quiet and occasional pecks he could land against your skin.

"Well, it was obvious he liked you from the first time we brought you back to the dorms," started Seokmin, having given up on beating his friends at the game and instead leaning back against the couch to converse with you as he watched the match play in front of him, "He was a little more shy back then, so he never said anything, not even to us," he continued up until you interrupted him.

"Wait, back when?", your surprise went unnoticed by Seokmin, but not by Minghao who subconsciously tightened his arms around you, now actively listening to the conversation.

"2016? Maybe 2017?," Kyeom wondered out loud, turning to Mingyu for confirmation and receiving a hum and a nod from both him and Wonwoo, "Yeah, late 2016, I think. Anyways," he continued, "We never said anything, but we all knew. We'd always try to get you guys in the same place, but he never budged. It wasn't til a few months ago when we mentioned you might be dating someone that Minghao decided to—"

The commotion from your side of the room prevented Seokmin from continuing, followed by the landing of a pillow to his face, resulting in a whine from the boy. Unexpectedly, Minghao had gotten up, pulling you up with him and accidentally causing a remote to fall in the process.

"Seokmin, shut up!", he demanded, a shade of red you'd never seen on him invading his ears while he attempted to avoid your widened eyes.

Three sets of eyes were set on you now, with some being amused while others confused. The game was mostly forgotten as they all stared at the usually quiet and put together Minghao make a commotion as he attempted to leave.

"We have to go, come on, babe," he urged, dragging you away from the room.

"But I wanna hear the end of the story," you let out as he pulled at your arm, not truly dragging you away but still struggling to convince you to leave. Giggling, you waved your friends bye as you finally allowed him to finally lead you out of the room, giving the guys a death stare to express his displeasure with them. It wasn't genuine anger, you could tell, but it was still amusing to see him embarrassed at his years-long crush being aired out.

...

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hairmetal666 · 7 months ago

Text

No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school.

Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.

Of course, Steve is also, currently, the titular Tattler, so. It's not like he's surprised when his name shows up.

It's his third year, his last year, and he knows everything that ever goes on at Hawkins High. It's pretty easy, honestly. Everyone thinks he's ditzy and vapid; nothing more than hairspray and polos. People will say anything around him, assuming he's not listening or not interested, and then bam. It's in next week's Tattler. No one even suspects him.

The confessions locker probably helps. Down by the theater, busted and unusable, the perfect place for people to leave tips, to tattle on their friends (or enemies, as the case may be).

That's what he's doing right now, checking the confessions locker. After 9:30 on a Friday night, the place silent as the tomb, perfect time for it. Pretty standard fare this week. The only thing of interest is that Eddie Munson was the person who broke all Ms. Click's pencils and left the stubs on her desk. This one, he laughs at, can't wait to publish it; can't wait to talk to Munson about it.

He gets a lot of stuff about Eddie. Most of it he doesn't publish because it's bullshit about satanic rituals--the nerdy kids he babysits play dnd, and there's no way Karen Wheeler is letting anything satanic happen in her basement--or about his sexuality, and one thing Steve doesn't do is out people.

Gathering up this week's submissions, he closes the locker with a soft clink, and he swears, swears he hears the squeak of a tennis shoe on the polished tile of the floor. He freezes, heart in his throat. Nobody has been here this late before.

Seconds pass but there's only silence. Confident he's only hearing things, he heads out, the parking lot just as empty as when he arrived.

---

He sees Eddie a few days later, when he's picking up the kids from the arcade. They typically exchange casual greetings, but as Steve waits, Eddie stands with him, offers him a cigarette.

"Read that was you who messed with Click's pencils. Good one."

Eddie shrugs, gives a little bow and a smile. "Happy to be of service."

"It was my class, when she found them. Never seen her so mad."

"No way," Eddie laughs. "Not even when Hagan drew dicks on all the textbooks?"

"Not even then, man. She was throwing pencil stubs everywhere."

"Fuck, sad I missed it." Eddie takes a drag, Steve's eyes following the movement, lingering on his mouth. Something warm and tingling builds at the base of his spine and he forces his gaze away.

"How long you in detention for?"

"I'm not. Swore it wasn't me, and Click doesn't want to admit she reads the Tattler, so. Not much they could do. "

"I've seen it sitting on her desk!"

"I know! She reads it when she has detention duty!"

They lean against Steve's car, laughing, and Steve feels good. This is good. He likes Eddie. He's funny and dramatic and smart and kind. He's not deserving of any of the mean things that get submitted to the Tattler.

The kids come streaming into the parking lot then, and Eddie stubs out his cigarette, says "see you around, Harrington," and Steve finds himself flushing for reasons he can't quite explain.

---

He starts seeing Eddie around way more. He's in school most days, smoking in the parking lot after the last bell, chatting with Steve in the hallways.

It shows up in the Tattler; big news that the King and the Freak are hanging out. Most of the submissions are about it, increasingly elaborate rumors about their supposedly deep, close friendship.

He wishes he could tell Eddie.

Eventually, Eddie invites him to smoke at the quarry. He doesn't hesitate to say yes, doesn't even bother to try ignoring the swoop in his stomach, the speed of his heart.

They sprawl out in the back of the van, Eddie's loud, raucous music pounding around them, sharing a joint back and forth.

Steve gets hazy, boneless, can't stop watching Eddie, the way his lips purse around the joint, his long hair glinting gold in the weak light of the camping lanterns, the pleased shine of his eyes every time he makes Steve laughs.

He likes Eddie so much. Everything about him, honestly. Butterflies ping in his stomach, happy and slow, and he thinks how nice Eddie's lips are, wonders how soft they must be. And he thinks--he's read the submissions, right--he knows the things they say about Eddie, and he wishes it was true, he wants--he wants--

He wants

---

Steve's running late to check the locker. Lost track of time at the diner with Eddie, and it's making him panic.

He stuffs the submissions haphazardly into the pocket of his hoodie, dancing with nerves, willing himself to grab them all and get out.

Locker emptied, he sprints towards the exit. He has a second to process someone barreling towards him in the dark, but he's going too fast to stop, can only brace himself as they collide.

It sends him sliding across the floor, Tattler submissions spilling out of his pocket like snow. He hits the ground, scrabbling for the papers, praying that whoever is here with him can't see them in the low light.

Hands grips his biceps. "Stevie, Steve, we have to get out of here" and there's a second where he's comforted by the familiar rasp of Eddie's voice before terror spikes again.

He pulls himself from Eddie's grasp, searching for any dropped submissions in easy reach. "Wha--why--what's--"

"I ran into Jason Carver and his band of idiots at the gas station. They're on their way to here to try to catch the Tattler in action."

Steve freezes. "I don't--that's not--I--"

In the deep silence of the empty school, they both hear the slamming of a door, a bitten off giggle. Eddie grabs his wrist and they run. Into the theater room, through a door Steve didn't know existed, to the backstage area of the auditorium.

"You should be safe here," Eddie says.

Panic spirals through him. "I can explain. I was just--I forgot a--I needed--"

"Harrington! I know, okay? I already know."

Steve can only blink at him, swallows rough in his throat. "What--Eddie, I--"

"I saw you. Weeks ago. Forgot my notebook in the theater room after Hellfire and had to run back for it. You were there, at the locker."

"You can't tell anyone."

"I'm not going to."

"No, Munson, you really can't. Nobody can know. Nobody--"

"Swe--Stevie, I promise. The secret's safe with me." He rocks back on his heels, chewing on his lip for a second before he continues. " I--I couldn't figure you out, you know? I saw you around with those kids and it didn't make any sense. King Steve, babysitting tiny nerds? But I saw you at the locker and..."

"You're giving me too much credit, man."

"I don't think so. You're never--fuck, Harrington--you're never mean. At least, not in the last couple years. You spread gossip, but you don't punch down, and you're funny as hell. Mean as shit too, but only to the people who deserve it."

His ears burn and he looks down. "Just because I have fucking--fucking editorial standards doesn't mean that I'm anything special."

Eddie scoffs. "Remember, Stevie, I was reading it a year before you were here. Cruel, vapid garbage. Always the most vile, pointless stories about people who couldn't defend themselves. And how many submissions have you gotten about me, for instance, that you've never used?"

Steve clenches his fists. "I would never--"

"I know. Sweetheart, I know. That's why I li--You're so fucking good, Stevie."

He laughs, ears burning. "I'm really not, Eddie. I try to write about fun gossip that can't hurt anyone too much, and nobody's found me out because they think I'm too dumb--"

Eddie reaches out then, fingers connecting softly with the edge of Steve's jaw. He can't help but lean into the touch, eyes flickering closed.

"You don't want to hurt people because you're fucking kind. You know how I know for sure? You must get submissions every week about me, and you've never once printed that I'm--" Eddie stops then, swallowing hard.

Steve's throat goes tight. He rests his hand over Eddie's, still holding his face. "Me too," he whispers. "Kind of. I like--it's both. For me."

"Oh," Eddie breathes, mouth lifting in a bright, beautiful smile that Steve can't help but return.

He's watching, sees when Eddie's gaze drifts his lips, making his breath hitch. He doesn't really think about closing the distance between them, slotting their mouths together in a tentative, gentle kiss.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Steve Harrington? Eddie asks when they part.

Steve blushes. "That's sort of the last of them."

"Sure. Next you'll be telling me you've played dnd."

"I have a character."

"What???"

"Human paladin. Dustin worked on it with me. Ready to get out of here?"

"Human paladin," Eddie gapes. "You know--you said--what's happening?"

Steve twines their fingers together, leading Eddie towards the auditorium exit. "Well, first we're going to walk out to my car and then we're going to my house, and we're going to look through Tattler submissions. Maybe makeout a little bit."

Eddie giggles. "What the fuck? Like. What the fuck, sweetheart?"

He turns to face Eddie, smile big and pure and bright with happiness. "If you're really nice to me, I'll let you help write this week's issue."

"Oh, oh. You're going to wreck me." Eddie mumbles, almost to himself.

"If you're lucky." Steve beams.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #fluff #friends to lovers #secret identity #gossip column #first kiss #getting together #steve harrington writes a gossip column #steve harrington is lady whistledown #eddie discovers steve's secret identity #they makeout about it #obviously erica becomes the tattler when she gets to high school. obviously

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fawnhart · 8 days ago

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bambi taking over drew’s apartment ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭

You walk into Drew’s apartment, and something’s different. It’s warmer, more...you. The white walls that once felt so sterile now feel like they’re holding something—like they’re waiting to tell a story.

Drew’s standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, his eyes flicking over to you with that smile you can never quite resist. You glance around, taking it all in.

“I see you’ve been busy,” you say, a grin tugging at your glossy lips as your eyes land on the new shoe shelf. Your shoes are neatly arranged in cubbies. High heels, white Mary janes, those sparkly flats you can never find in your own closet at home. “when did you do this?”

He shrugs, trying to act casual, but you catch the way his eyes light up when he watches you react. “I figured you needed space for your stuff. You know... the stuff that’s been taking over my man cave.”

You laugh, turning your attention to the vanity in the corner of the room. “You really went all out.”

“I told you I’d build you one,” he says, crossing his arms, clearly proud of himself. “Had to make sure it was big enough for all that makeup you insist on carrying around”

You roll your eyes playfully, walking over to the vanity. It’s exactly what you wanted—romantic, wooden, with a row of little fairy lights around the mirror. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection, and for a second, it feels like you’re in your own little world in his home. “It’s perfect, baby,” you say softly, fingers tracing the edge of the mirror. “Thank you.”

He walks over, standing behind you and looking at the vanity too. “It’s nothing. You’ve got a lot of stuff to keep around, might as well put it somewhere”

“No more shoving my shoes into the closet?” You gave him a fake pout

He smirks. “Yeah, pretty much. You know I’m terrible at organizing.” He says rolling his eyes

“That you are” you tease, but it’s clear there’s no real tension between you. It’s light. Comfortable. You look over at his side of the closet now, which has been slowly claimed by your clothes, a section devoted to mini skirts, low waisted jeans, and designer tops you begged him to buy you last summer. You grin, pleased with your progress.

“You’ve basically moved in, Bambi” he says grabbing your hips

You laugh and grab a mini skirt from the closet, holding it up to your body and changing into it. “you’re not complaining.” You turn back to him, feeling the soft buzz in your chest.

He watches you with a small, amused smile. “I can’t even remember what the apartment looked like before you started leaving your stuff everywhere.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you tease, but you can’t help feeling a little proud. “But, seriously, do you like it?”

Drew looks around, running a hand through his messy hair. The walls are covered in posters now—your movie posters, photos of the two of you, a framed quote you found on some random blog that you liked . It’s chaotic in the best way. “Yeah..I didn’t expect pink pots and pans in the kitchen,” he says, giving you a sideways glance suddenly getting “serious”

You grin, hopping over to the stove where your pink heart-shaped pots now sit, taking up space next to his old, practical, and ugly ones. “What? You said you wanted to cook, and now you can really impress your friends with your new kitchen aesthetic”

He laughs, there’s a hint of disbelief in his voice. “You’re turning my apartment into... well, whatever this is.” He waves a hand at the room, gesturing to the mix of colors and stickers, you scattered all over the place. “You know, my friends are gonna ask me about those.”

“So?” you say with a grin, as you jump on his kitchen counter. “Let them wonder.”

“not too eager to get on their good side?.”

“Never!” you say, kicking his growing bulge with your foot. “But I think they’ll get used to it eventually.”

“doubt it” he replies with a head shake, you reach out to pull him in by his belt loops. He settles in between your legs and finds the familiar curve of your hips, a place that’s beginning to feel like home —atleast for him. “But it’s alright, pretty girl. I like it this way.”

“I’m glad you like it,” you say, tipping your head forward to meet his forehead. There’s a softness in the way he looks at you, like everything in the apartment

You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, something that feels so natural now. “you’ve got me now, and I’ve got you” You lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips “right?”

“Yeah, I do” he says softly, his arms tightening around you and chasing your lips again

Even if Drew’s and your friends don’t totally get it, it doesn’t matter. He’s yours, you made sure that was evident. Your little evidence loud and clear in his apartment

#works!⟡࿔*:･ﾟ #bambi!reader✦ •ִ ᜔.#drew starkey #aesthetic #drew starkey imagine #rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x reader #blurb #drew starkey blurb

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darkstaria · 5 months ago

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Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal Au.

Chapter 6:

Summary: After being ambushed previously in Gotham's streets, you awake alone and afraid, in a strange building.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 7.

----

A furious pounding beat at your skull, a liquid of some kind dripped down from your head. You blinked your eyes open, greeted by what could only be some kind of warehouse.

You were in a daze, barely recognising what was in front of you. What vision you had was muddled by pain and your hearing was drowned out by a piercing beat in your ears.

What...?

You could hardly think.

The world was a messy tsunami of pain and confusion. That is... Until a flash of green, white and red beamed into your eyes, a sneering smile on its face.

You gasped. Breath caught in your throat, as your chin was caught in his hand.

The Joker.

"HahahahahahaHAHAHAHA!" The laugh echoed throughout the building as your surprise turned into shakes. The hand left go as Joker's chortle turned into a full laugh, but that was hardly a relief.

This was, quite literally, the worst situation you could have ever gotten into. Out of everyone who would have an interest in Batman's soulmate, why must it be him?

You instinctively try to move, but soon realise you've been restrained, ropes tying you down to an iron chair. They don't budge.

The stomping of shoes drew your attention back to him, as the Joker approached you again.

"Well now." He began, a beaming grin stretching his face. "Lookie what we have here. You know, I was having a wonderful night, finally out on the town, able to meet all my old friends again. Then I meet you, and you know what I think?"

He rested a hand on your shoulder. You fought a shiver.

"What a... great new friend?" You try. You go for a smile of your own. You're certain it looks more like a grimace.

A mocking laugh is his response. Then, with a sudden twist, his hands grasp your collar, bringing you to his eye level. The movement forces you against the ropes that constrict your stomach, suffocating you.

"I find... a sniveling little brat, that just so happens, TO HAVE A BAT PROTECTING-"

A screech cuts him off, a flurry of wings diving directly into his face, what you could barely make out as a beak aimed at his eyes. The pain you're under causes you to take a moment to understand what's going on, as Joker swings a crowbar at the flying figure.

It was... Hood. Pecking and clawing at the Joker, doing whatever it could to draw him away. And it was working too.

That is, until Joker pressed down on his flower, causing a spray of gas to surge outward directly into Hood's line of flight. It slowed it down, a pause as Hood squawked in pain. A pause that was swiftly taken advantage of, as Joker swung a brutal arc into Hood, the crowbar sending the bird flying across the room and into a crumpled pile on the ground.

"No!" The scream tore itself out of you, a primal sort of agony you never thought you would ever feel after you had withdrawn from thoughts of your soulmates. It was like losing him all over again. Vigilante or not, Hood was a bird. Birds didn't typically survive a hit from a crowbar. If Hood died here, what would you do? One of the connections that had tormented you all your life, over just like that.

The scream drew Joker's attention back to you, a realisation that sank deeply in your throat. He approached you again, an air of casualness across his figure.

"Birds, what little pests. Good thing I always carry around pest spray." He laughs, adjusting the flower resting on his lapel. "I've always preferred bats." A thunk noise sounded out as he spoke, drawing your attention to a small cage he dropped.

It was a birdcage. Inside that birdcage was...

"Batman?!"

The bat inside was still, its gaze fixed on Joker's movements, but it did shift briefly to watch you for but a second as you spoke its name.

"Hahaha!" Joker's laugh was like nails on a chalkboard. "Turns out all you need to capture a bat is the right bait."

"How..?" You mumbled, the words unconsciously forming on your tongue due to the shock.

"Within a moment of my crowbar's acquaintance with your dear old head, Bats appeared! A bit of a nuisance at first, but a few threats at that neck of yours calmed him right down!" Joker admitted, the biggest smile you had seen yet on his face. He chuckled at the mere memory of it, as you shook in horror.

Two of your soulmates were now down. You couldn't stop shaking, horrified. All your options were dwindling and Joker looked more... murdery by the second.

Your attention was caught by a feeling of feathers brushing against your arms, the shaking making the thing touch you. You paused for a miniscule second, as you tried to think of what it was. Wait.

Was another one of your soulmates here? But rather than fight, this one was untying you? Or maybe gnawing at the ropes, whichever option was more plausible for a bird/bat.

Could you stall long enough to get out? It seemed like the only possibility left.

"Why...why do this? What enjoyment are you finding from this?" Maybe not the best line of questioning, but it was all your pounding head could come up with.

"Why?" Joker echoed, pausing for a moment. "Because I don't take kindly to cheaters. Me and Bats have something special. I dealt with my soul chain long ago, and yet! I find him cheating on me with this lousy excuse for a time waster!" He ends his shout pointing at you, a scowl on his painted face. It's possibly the worst expression you've seen on Joker yet.

"Aren't the other Robins his soulmates too? Why are you only targeting me?"

"I dealt with one of the flying rats long ago, quite a great plan if I may say so, but he just came back! I don't feel like wasting my time with this eternal game of wack-a-mole, so I've decided on a new method."

What's the method...?" You ask, reluctantly.

"You." He smiles.

He steps closer, withdrawing a gun from his pocket. "Thanks for the opportunity to capture Bats, my dear, but I've had enough of his chains getting in the way of our little game. I'll take much better care of little Batsy once you die, well, to an extent anyway! Hahaha!"

He tosses the gun up and down, carelessly as he walks towards you.

Up.

What could you do?

Down.

Hood was still crumpled in the corner, likely unconscious.

Up.

Batman was shaking the cage, unable to do anything else in its rage.

Down.

The unknown soul animal hadn't finished removing the ropes.

Across. The gun meets your temple, a few inches away from your head. You lock eyes with him. He pulls the trigger.

Pop! You flinch, coming face to face with a little Bang! flag that popped out of the gun.

You sigh, a momentary relief. You've been spared. You shift a little, feeling the ropes loosen. Your soul animal was doing its job well. You intake a few breaths, as Joker slaunters away from you, chuckling under his breath.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to regain yourself amidst all the pain.

BANG!

"Agh-!" You jolt, shooting straight up. There's a pain in your cheek, a metallic liquid dripping down.

Turning your head ever so slightly, you spy the Bang flag lodged into the wall. It was a real gun after all.

But..

Why didn't he shoot you?

"Guns are a little too dry, don't you think?" You turn back around, immediately coming face to face with the Joker, an image that makes you flinch.

There's a crowbar in his hands.

"I don't ever repeat jokes, but, my first attempt with this weapon didn't stick too long. I don't want to lower the bar of my comedy, but maybe it'll work this time? Second time's the charm!"

"It's actually the third time.." You speak, nerves causing your words to tumble out. So that's why he didn't shoot you. He intends to make your final moments as painful as possible.

He smiles in response to your quip, lifting the bar up.

"W-wait!" You cried out, desperation pooling into whatever would give you a chance at survival. "Couldn't you do anything else?! Brainwash me, use me as a hostage, isn't it just a waste if you kill me?!" You practically scream the final words, your panic reaching a crescendo of horror.

The Joker's reply is simple.

"Nope!"

He swings.

BANG!

A bullet flies through his hand, forcing him to drop the crowbar as he pulls back.

You both turn, spotting a bulky man in black at the entrance of the warehouse.

He's wearing a red helmet.

"Joker.." The voice is deep, a threatening timbre you'd only hear replicated in nightmares.

"Let. The civilian. Go.” His gun clicks.

“Urgh. Speak of the devil.” Joker complains, unphased. “My plans are being ruined and it's not even by Bats. What is the world coming to?”

“Wait…” The Joker pauses, noticing a fallacy in the vigilantes’ words. “Civilian? Oh, HAHAHA! OHHhhh you have no idea what’s going on here do you?” The Joker snickers in delight, giving you a conniving glance.

“Oh my, oh my. I didn't realise you were also a jokester.” Joker squishes your cheeks, a little too harsh to be anything but painful. He laughs again at the expression on your face.

There's no response from the figure, but the bullet that Joker barely dodges the next second later is answer enough. It grants you and the Joker some distances, so you're grateful.

A flapping of wings draws your attention, a dark blue blur sailing through the room before landing on your lap. Nightwing.

You blink in realisation, finally understanding why not all your soul animals had appeared to help you. Wing had led one of the bats to you. You glanced over. Judging from the helmet, was this Red Hood.

Uh oh. You hoped he didn't notice Hood in the corner.

Or Batman. Or the soul animal freeing you- oh no you were absolutely screwed weren’t you?

You gulp.

“Wait.. You?” Red Hood’s modulated voice didn’t convey any emotion, but it couldn't disguise the hesitance in which he spoke.

Exposed.

“Uhmmm… no?” You tried.

Wing nuzzled your cheek. Hood’s gaze intensified.

“Okay! Okay yes, but I swear there's a reason why I never came to any of you- it wasn't because of you-” Oh dear that one was a blatant lie.

“I.. I mean, I just didn't want-” What could you do, what could you say? You didn't want to lie, but the truth wasn't good either.

In-between your frantic ramblings however, the Joker had snuck up on Red Hood, taking a lucky swing that missed by about a centimeter.

Red Hood’s retaliation was swift, the two suddenly engaging in a battle of force that was very much leaning in Red Hood’s favour. Although, ever so often Red Hood gave a wince of pain. Did Hood’s soul animal form’s state injure him slightly?

That question would go unanswered, as the ropes around you crumpled, revealing Red to be the soul animal that had been bailing you out all this time.

Well. You weren't going to get a better opportunity than this. Pushing Red and Wing off your lap, you rush out, aiming for one of the broken windows.

Batman makes a slight growling noise as you pass his birdcage. You try not to think about it.

“Hey!” A batarang flies past you, the rope attached to it meeting no target as you trip on some broken glass.

“Ah!” You mumble, surprised at your good (?) forture. There's now a cut on your leg. Great.

Red Hood is subsequently distracted from any more attempts to detain you, as the Joker takes another swing that gets a little too close for comfort in response, laughing all the while.

Clumsily falling out of the window, you thank Lady Gotham that the Joker kidnapped you on the ground floor, so there’s no drop whatsoever.

You sigh, injuries now taking a toll as the constant adrenaline was wearing off. You stumble forward.

Red and Wing land on your shoulders. Of course.

You limp out into Gotham’s alleyways, oblivious to the movement of a lithe figure on the rooftop, watching you.

----

Yeah those who guessed Joker were correct! Enjoy a cookie if you did! It seemed criminal to not have a chapter that explored how a soulmate universe would influence Batman and Joker's relationship, so that's what I did!

Oh and yeah, poor Reader. They are not having too good of a time rn. All these injuries aren't really gonna help them plead their case either.

A bit more of Jason this time too! How funnnn. I definitely feel bad for birdy Hood though. Red Hood may be super skilled but it's a little too unrealistic for him to solo as a bird :(

Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0 @jailbimbo @yandereheros @sxftiebee @i-have-three-feelings @toast-on-dandelioms @lyl-3 @sitepathos @pato-spoiler-27 @ghostdoodlen @phoenixgurl030 @problematicreblogger

@sociallyakwardpanda @imaginarydreams @zanzie @yuyuzi-ling @soriansick @f1lover4ever @kiikkey @elizzsush @raincxtter @luoyi85 @yune1337 @erikasurfer @thekingofsimps @chaosbeanuwu @snowy-violet @nommingonfood @yandere-enthusiast @nb-babygirl @demonqueen-1 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @winter67890-blog

Tumblr just told me I can't tag anyone else, so the list ends here. Hopefully I can tag the remaining people in a comment!

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rafedarling · 4 months ago

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𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: drew tries to play a playful prank by taking off his wedding ring, but his smart and sweet 2-year-old son, rustyn, immediately notices and innocently points out that it might make mommy sad. what starts as a simple joke turns into a heartwarming reminder of the love and connection between you, drew, and your son, and the importance of the little things that symbolize that love.

warning(s): english is not my native language. pure fluff, heartwarming family moments, playful teasing, and deep emotional connections.

au’s: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday

The warmth of the sunlight and the gentle sound of waves from outside made everything feel peaceful and calm—your perfect little haven. You were curled up on the couch with your son, Rustyn, nestled comfortably in your lap, his small head resting against your chest. He was two, but sometimes you marveled at how much older he seemed, with his sharp curiosity and his endless questions.

Rustyn’s favorite book was in your hands as you read to him, your voice soft and soothing as you flipped through the colorful pages. Every few moments, Rustyn would point to a picture and ask you about it. His little hands would grab at the air in excitement as he processed each new detail.

“Mommy, why is that bunny wearing a hat?” Rustyn asked, his bright blue eyes full of curiosity.

You chuckled softly, brushing a hand through his soft curls. “Maybe he’s going on an adventure, sweetie. What do you think?”

Rustyn considered this seriously, his face scrunching up in concentration. “Yeah, maybe. I like adventures.”

“I know you do,” you said with a smile, kissing the top of his head. “You’ll have lots of them when you get bigger.”

Rustyn nodded, clearly satisfied with your answer, and snuggled closer to you. He let out a small sigh, content in the warmth of your embrace. You couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling with love as you continued to read. These were the moments you cherished—the quiet, everyday moments that made your little family feel complete.

As you were nearing the end of the story, you noticed Drew standing in the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter. He was watching the two of you with that familiar look of affection in his eyes, the one that always made you feel so loved. But today, there was something else—a mischievous twinkle that you hadn’t quite noticed before.

Drew took a sip of water, then set the glass down with a small, playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was up to. He didn’t say anything, just casually strolled into the living room and leaned down to scoop Rustyn up from your lap.

“Come here, little man,” Drew said, his voice warm as he lifted Rustyn into his arms.

Rustyn squealed in delight, wrapping his tiny arms around Drew’s neck and giggling as Drew spun him around in a playful circle. “Dada!” Rustyn cried out, his laughter echoing through the room.

“Having fun with Mommy?” Drew asked, settling Rustyn on his hip, still grinning as he glanced at you.

“Yeah! Mommy was reading to me,” Rustyn said proudly, his voice full of excitement.

But as Rustyn snuggled against Drew, his sharp little eyes caught something unusual. He tilted his head, his gaze narrowing in confusion as he stared at Drew’s left hand. You hadn’t noticed it before, but now, following Rustyn’s gaze, you realized that Drew’s wedding ring was missing.

Rustyn furrowed his tiny brow, clearly puzzled. His voice, though small and innocent, was filled with a sense of concern. “Dada...where’s your ring?”

You blinked, surprised by how quickly Rustyn had noticed. You hadn’t even realized it yourself, but there it was—Drew’s left hand, conspicuously bare. You glanced at Drew, raising an eyebrow as you waited for him to respond.

Drew, ever the playful one, kept his cool. He smiled down at Rustyn, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Oh, that? Dada just didn’t feel like wearing it today, buddy.”

Your mouth dropped open slightly as you watched Drew, a mixture of amusement and curiosity bubbling up inside you. What was he up to? He knew how much that ring meant to both of you, and though it wasn’t a serious situation, you couldn’t help but wonder how this was going to play out.

Rustyn, however, wasn’t so easily fooled. His little face scrunched up again, and he looked from Drew’s hand to your face, his innocent expression filled with concern. He tugged lightly on Drew’s shirt, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

“Dada,” Rustyn said in his most serious tone, his voice soft but full of wisdom beyond his years, “you know you gonna make Mommy sad.”

The room fell into silence, the weight of Rustyn’s innocent words settling between the three of you. You felt your heart swell as you looked at your son, his little face so earnest and full of love for both of you. His concern for your feelings, even at such a young age, was enough to make your heart melt.

Drew’s grin faltered slightly as he looked at Rustyn, clearly taken aback by his son’s sharp observation. The teasing light in his eyes softened, and he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh really?” he asked, his voice filled with affection as he looked back down at Rustyn. “You think Mommy will be sad if I don’t wear my ring?”

Rustyn nodded, his tiny hand reaching out to touch Drew’s bare finger. “Yeah, ‘cause it means you love her.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at Rustyn’s sweet words, and you had to blink back the sudden tears that pricked at your eyes. How did this little boy know so much? How could someone so young be so in tune with your feelings? It was moments like these that reminded you just how special Rustyn was.

Drew’s eyes softened even further as he looked at you, and the playful smirk faded into something much more tender. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wedding ring with a slow, deliberate motion. He slid it back onto his finger, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Well, we can’t have Mommy being sad, can we, buddy?” Drew said softly, his voice warm as he turned his attention back to Rustyn. “Is that better?”

Rustyn’s face lit up with a smile so wide it made your heart flutter. “Yeah, Dada! Now you make Mommy happy again!”

Drew chuckled, glancing at you with a loving smile. “What do you think? Is our little man right? Does the ring make you happy?”

You smiled back at him, your heart full as you nodded. “He’s always right,” you said softly, reaching out to gently squeeze Drew’s hand. “You know how much that ring means to me.”

Drew leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand still entwined with yours. “I know, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and full of affection.

Rustyn, clearly pleased with the resolution of the situation, snuggled into Drew’s chest, his tiny arms wrapping around his dad’s neck. “Dada loves Mommy,” he said with absolute certainty, as if there had never been any doubt.

Drew smiled, looking down at Rustyn with nothing but love in his eyes. “You’re right, Rusty. I love Mommy very much.”

Rustyn nodded solemnly, as if he had solved a great mystery. “I knew it,” he said with a proud grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart swelling with love for both Drew and Rustyn. You reached out, wrapping your arms around both of them, pulling them into a warm hug. “I love you both so much,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to Rustyn’s cheek before turning to Drew and kissing him softly on the lips.

Drew smiled against your lips, his hand resting on the small of your back as he held you close. “We love you too,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth and tenderness.

As the three of you sat there, wrapped up in each other’s love, the world outside seemed to fade away. It was just the three of you—your perfect little family, full of love, laughter, and moments like these that made everything else seem small in comparison.

Rustyn, ever the observant toddler, let out a small yawn, his little body relaxing as the excitement of the day began to catch up with him. He nestled deeper into Drew’s arms, his eyes fluttering closed as he snuggled into the warmth of his dad’s chest.

As you watched Drew tuck your son into bed, your heart swelled with love once more. It was moments like these—simple, sweet moments—that made you realize just how lucky you were to have this little family.

As Drew gently closed Rustyn’s bedroom door, he turned to you with a soft smile, his hand reaching for yours. “You know I was just teasing with the ring, right?” he asked quietly, pulling you into his arms as he led you back toward the living room. His voice was low and full of sincerity now, the earlier playfulness gone, replaced by a quiet tenderness.

You smiled up at him, resting your hand against his chest as you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your palm. “I know,” you replied softly, your eyes meeting his. “But Rustyn was right. It does mean a lot to me, even if it’s just a ring.”

Drew’s expression softened even further, and he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I know, baby. I’ll never take it off again, I promise,” he said, his tone serious but still filled with that warmth you loved so much. “At least not without a really good reason.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “You better not,” you teased, your voice playful but laced with affection.

Drew smiled down at you, his forehead resting against yours as he held you in the quiet comfort of the moment. “I know I joke around sometimes,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t ever want you to doubt how much I love you. This ring—it’s a promise, not just for show.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, your hand still resting against his chest as you leaned into him. “I never doubt it,” you whispered back. “Not for a second.”

The two of you stood there for a few more moments, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. The house was quiet now, save for the soft sound of Rustyn’s rhythmic breathing coming from his bedroom, and the golden light of the setting sun cast a warm glow through the windows, making everything feel peaceful and serene.

Drew’s arms tightened around you slightly, and he let out a contented sigh, his lips brushing against your temple as he held you. “Rustyn’s growing up so fast,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and awe. “I still can’t believe how smart he is—how much he picks up on.”

You smiled softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “I know,” you agreed, your voice filled with love for your little boy. “He’s always surprising me with how much he understands. I wasn’t expecting him to notice your ring like that.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Neither was I. I thought I’d get away with the prank at least until bedtime.” His smile softened, and he glanced down at his hand, where the ring now sat securely. “But you know what? I’m glad he noticed.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Why’s that?”

Drew’s eyes met yours again, his gaze full of love and affection. “Because it reminded me how much this little ring means. Not just to you, but to him too. He understands that it’s important—he gets that it’s a symbol of how much we love each other. And that… well, that makes me even prouder to wear it.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently brushing along his jawline. “You’re a good man, Drew Starkey,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Drew smiled, his eyes soft and full of love. “And you’re the love of my life,” he replied, his voice just as tender.

He leaned down then, capturing your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that made your heart flutter in your chest. His hands rested gently on your waist as he pulled you even closer, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, a perfect rhythm that matched the quiet contentment of the moment.

When you finally pulled away, Drew rested his forehead against yours once more, his breath warm against your skin. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the stillness of the room.

“For what?” you asked softly, your fingers gently threading through his hair.

“For this. For our life. For Rustyn. For everything.” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression filled with so much love that it made your heart ache. “I wouldn’t trade a single moment for anything.”

You smiled, feeling the same rush of love and gratitude that you felt every time you looked at him. “Neither would I,” you whispered back.

The two of you stood there everything felt perfect—your little family, your life together, the quiet joy that filled your days. It wasn’t always grand gestures or big moments that made life special. Sometimes, it was the small, simple things—like the way Drew looked at you when he wore his ring, or the way Rustyn’s innocent questions could change the course of a day—that reminded you just how lucky you were.

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #drew starkey imagine #rafe cameron imagines #drew starkey imagines #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #drew starkey x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey gif #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fanfic #drew x reader #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut

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rafecameronssl4t · 5 months ago

Note

I LOVED the “Who invited you?” one, so i was thinking… maybe a Thornton!reader x season 3!rafe, where Rafe and reader are secretly dating and reader tells about it to sofia, not knowing she had a crush on Rafe, so she tells everything to Topper

Stay in your lane || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: so sorry this took me forever to reply to but hope you like it!!! added my own little twist in the end reminder that requests are open!!!!

Warnings: mentions of smoking, suggestive content, if theres anything else, lmk!

Word count: 1,884

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

As you step into the country club, the cool air conditioning providing instant relief from the summer heat, you're greeted by a familiar face. "Hey," Sofia's voice carries a warm, welcoming tone as she catches your attention. Her honey-coloured hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail, and she looks every bit the part in her crisp, white polo shirt.

"Sofia, right?" you say with a smile, sliding your sunglasses up onto your head. She nods with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling. "That's me! And you're Y/n, Topper's sister," she says confidently, her gaze lingering on you for a moment as if to commit your face to memory.

"Yeah, that's right," you reply, your tone light and friendly as you confirm her guess. "Can I get you a table?" she offers, her hand subtly gesturing towards the dining area where groups of people are already seated, enjoying their meals and conversations.

You shake your head gently, your smile widening. "Oh no, I'm here with someone," you explain, a hint of warmth in your voice. Sofia's expression shifts as her lips form a small 'o' of understanding. "Well, enjoy!" she responds, her smile returning, though there's a hint of something else in her eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or intrigue.

You reciprocate her smile, offering a small wave before you turn to walk away. As you move towards the back of the club, you can feel Sofia's gaze following you, her attention unwavering until you disappear from sight.

Sofia stepped into the secluded section of the country club, balancing a tray of drinks with practiced ease. The chatter of the main dining area faded behind her as she ventured deeper into the quieter, more exclusive part of the club. As she approached the table, she quickly recognised you sitting there, and a curl of smoke caught her eye, obscuring the person seated across from you.

"Iced tea and a Westbrook?" Sofia announced as she drew closer, her voice steady. But as she placed the drinks on the table, her eyes widened in surprise as she finally saw who you were with—Rafe Cameron, his presence unmistakable.

“Thanks, Sof,” you responded warmly, your smile reaching your eyes as you accepted the glass of iced tea from the tray. Sofia’s attention drifted towards Rafe, who sat across from you with an air of nonchalance. He casually exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke, his intense blue eyes never leaving you as he flicked the ashes into the nearby ashtray.

His gaze was unwavering, almost possessive, as he watched you, barely sparing Sofia a glance. It was clear that his focus was entirely on you, as if the rest of the world, including Sofia, simply didn’t exist in that moment. The casual way he leaned back in his chair, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, contrasted sharply with the tension in Sofia’s chest.

"Y-you're welcome," Sofia stammered, caught off guard by the sight of the two of you together. She quickly realised that her surprise was showing, and she forced a polite smile before retreating, her mind racing as she walked away, the image of you and Rafe together lingering in her thoughts.

As Sofia made her way outside, she hauled the heavy bags of rubbish towards the bins at the back of the country club. Her thoughts were preoccupied, replaying the scene she had witnessed earlier of you with Rafe. The image of the two of you together lingered in her mind, stirring a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite pin down.

Lost in these thoughts, something in the parking lot suddenly caught her attention—Rafe Cameron’s truck parked in the parking lot. Her steps faltered as she saw you step down from the passenger side, a playful smile on your lips as you tugged your dress back into place.

Sofia’s heart raced, and without thinking, she ducked behind a nearby tree, hoping to remain unnoticed. Peeking out from her hiding spot, she watched as Rafe emerged from the car, his confident smirk evident even from a distance.

He moved towards you with a casual grace, his hand trailing down your back before giving your ass a light, possessive squeeze. The gesture was intimate, familiar, as if this wasn't the first time he'd done it. Then, Rafe leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that seemed to linger just a little too long.

Sofia could feel her chest tighten as she observed the scene, her mind reeling from the implications. She watched as he then walked you to your Porsche, his hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you with ease.

He opened the driver's door for you, the gesture almost gentlemanly, before leaning in for one last kiss. The way you smiled at him before driving off sent a pang of something unidentifiable through Sofia’s chest—jealousy? Surprise? Disbelief? Maybe all three.

As your car disappeared from view, Sofia’s eyes remained glued to Rafe. Just as she was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he suddenly turned his head in her direction, as if sensing her presence. Panic surged through her as she let out a quiet gasp, instinctively slapping a hand over her mouth and pressing herself harder against the rough bark of the tree.

She remained frozen, barely daring to breathe, until she heard the roar of Rafe’s engine as he sped off. Only then did she dare to move, her heart pounding in her chest. Of course, you and Rafe were together. The thought settled heavily in her mind, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. It was almost expected, yet seeing it with her own eyes was something else entirely.

"Hey, Sof," you greet her with a warm smile as you walk up to the bar and take a seat. Sofia returns the smile, but there's a slight tension in her expression, a tightness that you don't seem to notice. "Hey, what can I get you?" she asks, her voice pleasant but lacking its usual warmth.

"An iced tea will be fine, thanks," you reply, settling into your seat. Sofia nods and begins preparing your drink. As she works, your phone buzzes, drawing your attention. Sofia can't help but eavesdrop as you answer it. "Hey," you say into the phone, your lips curving into a smile as you listen to the person on the other end.

"Yeah, 1 p.m. is fine." Sofia continues making your iced tea, her curiosity piqued, wondering who you're talking to. When the call ends, you smile at Sofia, who quickly averts her eyes, focusing on placing a straw into your glass before pushing it across the bar towards you.

"Thank you," you say, taking a sip of the iced tea. You then pick up your phone again, your fingers tapping away as another smile forms on your lips, seemingly in response to a message. Sofia, now cleaning some glasses nearby, can't hold back her curiosity any longer.

"So… you and Rafe, huh?" she asks, her tone laced with subtle intrigue as she glances over at you. You look up from your phone, a light giggle escaping your lips. "Yeah?" you respond, a bit amused by her question. Sofia purses her lips, nodding as she tries to process this new information, a flutter of jealousy stirring in her chest.

"I didn't know you guys were dating," she continues, her voice careful, as if trying to gauge your reaction. You hum softly, playing with the straw in your glass. "Between you and me, we were friends with benefits for a while before he asked me out properly," you admit with a small, almost secretive smile.

Sofia nods, doing her best to hide her surprise, but there's a flicker of something in her eyes—disbelief, maybe even a touch of envy that she quickly tries to suppress. Her mind races, wondering how she missed the signs, and why the thought of you with Rafe unsettles her so much.

"Does Topper know?" she asks, her tone slightly more pointed as she looks at you. Your eyes snap to hers, and for a moment, the air between you feels charged with something unspoken, a tension that Sofia struggles to ignore.

"No, he doesn't know yet. We'll tell him soon enough, though," you reply, your voice steady. "Right now, he just thinks we're really good friends." Sofia hums in response, trying to mask the pang of jealousy as she watches you return to your phone, clearly engrossed in your conversation with Rafe.

You finish your drink and stand up, offering Sofia a warm smile. "Thanks for the drink, it was so good," you say sincerely before turning and walking off, leaving Sofia standing behind the bar, her thoughts racing as she watches you disappear from view.

When Sofia caught sight of Topper and Rafe walking into the country club, her heart began to race, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety flooding her system. The two of them made an imposing pair, effortlessly commanding attention as they approached the bar.

Sofia's gaze followed their every step, her pulse quickening when Rafe’s eyes met hers. He held her gaze for a brief moment before leaning in to whisper something to Topper. Without a word, Rafe then turned and walked outside, leaving Topper alone at the bar.

"Just my usual, thanks. Make it two," Topper said, leaning casually against the polished wood. His tone was indifferent, his eyes lazily scanning the room as if the bar and its staff were just another part of the scenery. Sofia nodded, accustomed to his detached manner, and began preparing the drinks.

As she worked, she stole a glance at Topper, feeling a sudden surge of boldness. Clearing her throat, she decided to speak up. "Y/N's not joining the two of you tonight?" she asked, her voice steady despite the nerves bubbling underneath.

Topper’s attention snapped back to her, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. A dry chuckle escaped his lips, the sound laced with a hint of amusement. "And what makes you think my little sister should be here with us?" he asked, his tone edged with curiosity as he watched her skillfully mix the drinks.

Sofia felt her confidence grow, fueled by the moment and the subtle power shift she sensed. She met his gaze head-on, refusing to be intimidated. "I'm not sure, I just thought she'd join you guys since she and Rafe are a couple now," she replied, trying to sound nonchalant as she shrugged her shoulders.

For a brief second, Topper went silent, and Sofia braced herself for his reaction. She expected surprise, maybe even a flash of anger or disbelief. But instead, Topper's response was cold and indifferent, his expression unreadable. "Don't see why that concerns you, Sofia," he said, his eyes drifting towards the view outside, his interest in the conversation fading as quickly as it had sparked.

Sofia's eyes widened, not prepared for his dismissive tone. "Oh, no—I was just wondering—" she stammered, her initial confidence rapidly dissolving under his gaze. Topper’s stare sharpened, cutting her off before she could finish. "I think you forget yourself sometimes," he said, his voice chillingly calm.

"Just because you work here in Figure 8, it doesn't give you the right to go sticking your nose in our business, yeah? So stay in your lane," He grabbed the glasses she had just finished preparing, his hand steady, his demeanor cold.

With that, he walked off without another glance, leaving Sofia standing there, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She hadn’t expected Topper to speak to her like that—so harshly, so dismissively. The words stung, lingering in the air long after he had disappeared, and Sofia was left alone.

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dreamesamu · 6 months ago

Text

THE THINGS HE TAKES FOR GRANTED

in which he takes a moment to justify himself after never noticing your little crush for him

starring. akaashi keiji x fem!reader

genre(s): angst to fluff, (super, like-) long scenario

warning(s): none, i think so? except for clueless keiji and not proof-reading

author’s note: akaashi is just a major green flag in this (every haikyu!! boy is 😭) i feel too bad to write them red-flag-y.

choose your character: m. atsumu | k. akaashi

you’ve known akaashi for quite some time, starting from your last year of fukurodani academy and then serendipity brought you both ended up being each other’s classmate at a same college/university. bokuto kotaro was your best friend, the little owl introduced his favorite setter to you and the friendship of three gradually become established, and as if it can not be any more inevitably, you eventually developed a secret admiration for the pretty setter when you three have been closed enough. however, graduating separated ways, kotaro pursued his journey to become professional in volleyball while keiji, once said to you he wanted a place in the literature department.

truth be told, even if you promised each other you would still keep in touch and plan every weekend friend group meeting online or offline, you’ve never expect you would share every class in higher education life with your crush, the akaashi keiji. the great thing is you both are paired up for an presentation assignment in the major you and him pursue, you do have plenty of time to stay close and grab his attention from making gestures that he usually failed to realizes.

here you are again, happily humming your favourite song while carrying a box wrapped with a small detailed towel, some big rolls of assignment paper stuck underneath your arm as you make your way back to where you both planned to finish the project - the library.

“keiji, i’m back!” you set your things respectively on the table, and akaashi nods with a smile on his face in acknowledgement.

“oookay, so here’s your today’s snack, I hope you’ll like it” you grin, tapping on the box before pushing it to his side as he receives it and casually opens it while speaking.

“hmm? are those sketches of our poster? you can always edit them on the computer, why the effort?” he chuckled softly before completely unwrapping the bento box.

“I’m not good at designing and stuff. I may draw as I like and you’ll be the one to edit it on the computer.” you puff your cheek out, hands resting on hips as you watch his reaction to your delicately decorated sweets in the box made for him.

“this looks amazing.” he smiles upon seeing the pastries you made, decorated beautifully with different kinds of fruit as each pastry has different flavours, you probably did not stay up so late last night just to make all kinds of flavours for him to show how much you like him. yeah, probably not.

"oh, it's nothing, I just hope it doesn't taste bad" you chuckle nervously while scratching the back of your neck, letting his praise send you up to cloud nine.

your actions falter when you see akaashi put back the box's cap on, set it aside as he leans over to reach the posters you drew.

"now then, can we start working on the project?" he spreads out the piece of paper, glancing at you as you stand there awkwardly, prefer him taking a bite to look through all of your efforts than just shrugging it off and go straight to the main part of your study session.

"what...? oh- um..." you trail off, a bit embarrassed. "wouldn't you like to try one out? it won't hurt to just have a taste of it..."

"maybe later, y/n. we have other things need to be done right now." he merely states, eyes study the poster in front of him, unknowingly sinking your heart.

"yes, right." you shift slightly, taking the sit by the opposite of him, trying to catch up with him on the progress.

you let your mind wanders off how many times you've lost count already while akaashi quietly focused on scribbling something in his notebook, every thoughts you have are always about keiji, your feelings and the stare you give him thinking it's discreet. what's stopping him from trying my tarts out? and how does he feel being around me? or is that his way of rejecting something without making that person feel bad? flooded your mind.

"y/n?" you realize his faint voice ringing somewhere "y/n..." the voice becomes clearer. "earth to y/n, you're staring." awh, snap. right.

you blink, startled before clearing your throat, mumbling a small apology as you try to get yourself busy with the work underneath you once again.

but akaashi just chuckles, his voice calm and reassuring.

"hey, you seem off today. it's lunch break, please make yourself comfortable." you fumble at his words, it's noon already? as he collects his books and tidy it up at one corner of the table before speaking again.

"yuri satsuki is inviting me to have lunch with her. would you like to also join? i think she wouldn't mind." he kindly offers, probably not knowing the words struck you shocked.

you know satsuki-senpai, she's a year older than you and has been a social butterfly ever since you set foot in student life. she is a nice person, you conceived, but not until you found out that she has a huge crush on your akaashi keiji, her behaviour in your eyes became somewhat annoying. in return, she did realize she had a rival to win over him, you acknowledge that through the smug look she gave every time akaashi was around her instead of you, that is how the tension gradually builds up between you and your pain-in-the-ass rival.

and now she's even invited keiji for lunch? you feel an uncomfortable twist in your belly, screaming that if you do not take further actions, you lose akaashi to her. but his way of discarding your hard work, also known as an attempt to get his attention earlier discourages you hastily. this comes to a realization: ever since he start hanging out with satsuki-senpai, he has never touched one of your cooks once.

"no, i'm fine staying here. you go" you force a smile waving him goodbye. he hesitates upon seeing the downward trend of your mood as well as the strange attitude every time he brings up yuri.

"what are you waiting for?" you scoff, trying your best to make it sound not so bitterly. he nods quietly before ruffles your hair, thoughtfully remind you to get something to eat before start working again, and he'll be back with you soon.

you groan for the nth time in thirty minutes since his last leave, deciding not to eat anything at all after you laugh bitterly to yourself seeing the bento box laid cold by his stuffs which corrects your thoughts that he is not going to appreciate what you did for him.

the chair scraped the floor when you stand up, attempting to compose yourself when you feel your brain need a break from overthinking such situations.

on the way out of the library, your eyes meet yuri satsuki's, assuming that keiji is just somewhere around here as his lunch break partner is the person you least excited to bump into.

"well, well. isn't that the girl whose best friend choose to hang out with me instead of her?"

excuse me?

"don't get too ahead of yourself, satsuki-senpai. just a friendly reminder" your tone evidently irritated as you flash her an unamused smile, trying to avoid her as soon as possible.

but the radio scene of her voice replayed all over your head, your mind goes muddy despite the fresh air you're trying to take in, you let out a shaky breath, tears brimming out.

maybe, he doesn't quite noticed the things I did for him after all...

---

"you're back. where were you?" akaashi worried tone surprises you after a quite fine time of trying to find you because your study desk in the library was empty.

"i was... out for fresh air. why?" your voice is off and he noticed that. he always knew when something is bothering you, and right now he definitely know that something is wrong.

"after i finished my lunch i got yours, 'cause i know when i'm back you would still hadn't eaten anything." his brows slightly furrow seeing your avoiding attitude.

"thanks, keiji." you said briefly, take the package from his hand and sit down on your seat, never forget to notice the pastry box still intact.

your strange attitude didn't just stop there, it confuses akaashi for a more couple of days of your avoidance, he dislike the way you put a small distance between you both in study sessions, you flinch and tense around him more often, your answers and conversations are brief and sometimes awkward as you seem to be more preoccupied and attentive rather than to communicate with him.

"good morning, y/n." he smiles, your state has been bothering him for days as he is paying attention to your fade grin and a small "hey" as a greet back.

then he fumbles. something is missing...

oh. but then, realization sets in him quite quickly: you didn't bring any homemade sweets today.

"y/n..." he hesitates, meeting your eyes as you lift your head up from the notebook you're scribbling on. "does your home perhaps... out of ingredients or something?"

you are stunned for a moment, knowing exactly what he was trying to imply, scared to look at him directly in the eye as you shift your gaze elsewhere, pretending to have forgotten.

"oh... you mean the pastries... I forgot to do it. I was busy yesterday"

lies. he see through it, you know that, but you can't just blurt it all out that you're heartbreaking because of his indirect rejection that never says he doesn't like you, but makes you feel like it did.

"hey... i know something is wrong, can you tell me what it is?"

there it is - the worried look on such handsome face that never fails to make your heart flutter. but you know, that is just his nature of being an attentive and thoughtful person, not just for only you, but for everyone in his orbit.

so his question remained unanswered.

akaashi has been extremely distracted due to the sudden lack of your affection on him. it's just doesn't feel the same. even if he refuses it but deep down, he misses your midday snacks, your bubbly laugh around him and that flushed cheeks you wear every time he caught you staring. it has been a whole week since, and the fact that you didn't join the friend group video call with bokuto last sunday was his last straw.

he misses you, dearly. and if he doesn't do anything now before your project is finished, he might find it difficult to approach you even when you are his best friend.

and then, on an another lovely morning in the college's campus, an emotion he thinks he's aware of stirring in his stomach at the scene of you handing out a bento box wrapped with the same detailed towel, a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as the other boy laughs lightly, scratches his neck, sending regards with a polite bow before making his way back in the classroom, akaashi doesn't like what his eyes have witnessed, so when he met yours, the bitterful look sends shivers down your spine.

you turn away, begin to walk, you do not want to deal with your bothered heart right now, not if it has anything to do with him, with that thought, you choose to neglect it because it is just your one-sided feelings for him.

but you hear footsteps behind, next is a small "wait" escaped from his lips when he managed to catch up and hold gently on your arm. that stopped you midtrack.

"please. can we talk?" he pleads.

---

you find yourself trapped by his presence in a corner of the school's library. there's no point in avoiding now.

"i'm sorry." he states. "i like you, i should've known."

your eyes widen. why- all of a sudden?

akaashi glances at you, softly sighs before bring your hand up to his face and kiss your knuckles gently.

"i understand now, i was clueless, you have the very right to be mad at me." each sentences he speaks crack your heart, but at the same time, they give you hope.

you neither know how to react, nor what to say, you just stand there, completely speechless, it encourages him to continue his speech of pursuing you.

"the last time i went to have lunch with satsuki, she confessed to me." he stopped, watching your expression. "but i turned her down, then, she got angry and started to brag about you. i did not like what she said, so i got quite defensive and... that was when i realised."

"i didn't know when it started. i just knew that i didn't feel very comfortable seeing you bringing your pastries that was meant for me to someone else, and more it's because i didn't appreciate it."

he squeezes your hand, afraid if not, you'll slip from his grip and become somebody else's apple. he certainly dislikes the thought.

"i want your pastries back, i love them as much as i love you. please let me correct such a terrible mistake."

---

"yes, hello. i've received the box, thank you, my love."

akaashi spins his office chair slightly, softly speaking to the phone stuck between his cheek and shoulder with a smile while unwrapping a huge warm box of freshly baked tarts.

"keiji, bad news, i'm out of powdered sugar after that batch." your voice echoed on output, he chuckles.

"are you free after work? we can visit the supermarket to purchase some. i'll drive, consider this a date with me, 'mkay?"

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thedensworld · 2 months ago

Text

Gentle Daddy | C. Sc

Pairing: Scoups x reader

Genre: fluff, parent au

Summary: welcome aboard to the threenager stage of Seungcheol's son and how he parents him.

Seungcheol was seventeen when he met Chan, the youngest of their group. Was Chan a little brother? Yes. But at the start? Not quite. To Seungcheol, Chan was just another kid, someone he had to look after out of duty rather than choice.

As the oldest in their group, Seungcheol often became the subject of jokes about his strict ways. “Everyone, if you don’t wake up on three, I’ll give you 10 more laps of running,” Seungkwan teased, mimicking Seungcheol's commanding tone from their training days, complete with a mock-serious expression that drew laughter.

“Seungcheol hyung definitely needs someone gentle to balance that out,” Chan piped up with a cheeky grin. But before he could finish, Seungcheol raised an eyebrow and asked, “Balance what?”

Chan swallowed nervously, waving his hand dismissively as the others burst into laughter. “No, no, I was talking to myself,” he stammered.

But now, Seungcheol stood in a different scene, holding his three-year-old son, Wontae, on his arm during his birthday party. The house was filled with chatter and laughter, the kind only close friends could bring.

“Your interior is beautiful, Seungcheol. Come over and do mine next,” Jeonghan quipped, throwing a casual compliment with a hint of a request. Seungcheol rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“Appa did my room too!” Wontae beamed proudly at Jeonghan. Jeonghan’s features softened as he reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Your appa is very talented, isn’t he?”

Seungcheol discovered his passion for interior design when he was searching online for the perfect nursery layout for Wontae. But nothing he found could match the vision in his mind. After discussing it with you, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Trips to the hardware store turned into projects that filled his weekends: crafting custom cabinets, building desks, and designing coffee tables.

In preparation for the party, Seungcheol went all out—rearranging furniture, painting walls, and adding small decorative touches that showcased his new hobby.

“It’s almost as good as Mingyu’s house,” Jeonghan said with a mischievous smirk. Seungcheol chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I think taking care of others did that to me. Just like how Mingyu took care of everything for us back in the day.”

“I want to get down,” Wontae said, squirming in his father’s arms. Seungcheol gently set him down, watching with a smile as his son darted over to Wonwoo, who was showing him a video game on his phone.

“He’s going to be three, wow!” Jeonghan remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. “It feels like just yesterday when I first held him.”

“How is it like?” Jeonghan asked, a rare tone of seriousness in his voice.

Seungcheol sighed, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Go get married and have one yourself,” he said playfully.

“Jeonghan’s getting married?” Your voice chimed in as you returned from putting Wonna, your four-month-old daughter, to sleep. Both Seungcheol and Jeonghan turned toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes softened as he reached for your waist, pulling you gently into his side.

“Is she asleep?” he asked, concern blending with affection. You nodded, resting a hand on his chest.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jeonghan interjected, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“I feel really bad that you’re going through all of this right after giving birth, just for his birthday party,” Jeonghan joked, glancing around at the well-decorated room. The party was being held the day after Seungcheol’s birthday, even though Wontae’s actual birthday was next week.

“I told you, it’s for Wontae!” Seungcheol insisted, his tone defensive but playful.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Jeonghan, I gave birth four months ago. Besides, I’m grateful that Joshua and Mingyu helped with the food prep.” You nodded toward Joshua and Mingyu, who were now joined by Jihoon in the kitchen, scrubbing dishes and joking with each other.

Suddenly, a tiny voice interrupted the grown-up conversation. “Look what Uncle Hoshi got me! It’s a matching tiger onesie for me and Wonna!” Wontae announced proudly, holding up the tiny outfit with wide eyes full of excitement.

Seungcheol’s eyes flicked to Hoshi, who was now rolling on the floor, laughing at Wontae’s reaction. The older man couldn’t help but smirk, shaking his head.

You smiled and turned to Seungcheol. “I’ll go help him with his present,” you said, squeezing his arm before walking over to your son.

Jeonghan, still standing beside Seungcheol, gave him a knowing pat on the shoulder. “You know, it’s great you married Y/N. I never thought I’d see the day when the legendary Seungcheol, the training tyrant, would become the poster child for gentle parenting.”

Seungcheol scoffed, turning to Jeonghan with a mock glare. “A monster? Really? You’re one to talk,” he protested, crossing his arms but unable to suppress the grin threatening to break through.

Jeonghan just laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. Besides, we all know you wouldn’t be half as patient if it weren’t for her.”

Seungcheol glanced across the room where you were now helping Wontae into the tiger onesie, a soft smile crossing his face. The room buzzed with laughter and warmth, the chaos of their little family perfectly imperfect.

Seungcheol woke up a bit late this morning, the warm glow of the morning sun filtering through the curtains. A soft smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of his family already gathered at the dining table for breakfast. The sound of Wontae’s cheerful voice filled the room when he spotted his dad entering.

“Appa!” Wontae called out with excitement, his tiny hands waving eagerly. Seungcheol walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Wontae’s head before his eyes found Wonna, cradled in your arms, contentedly finishing her second bottle of the day.

“Wonna Wonna~ did you sleep well, my princess?” Seungcheol cooed, his heart melting at the sight of his daughter’s chubby cheeks. Wonna wriggled in your embrace, her eyes lighting up as she recognized her father’s voice.

“You had breakfast, love?” Seungcheol’s gaze shifted to you, his tone laced with concern. You shook your head with a soft smile. “I was waiting for you.”

He grinned, taking Wonna gently from your arms. “I’ll play with Wonna for a bit. Go have your breakfast.”

You nodded, appreciating his thoughtful gesture, and sat down to enjoy breakfast with Wontae. After some quality playtime with Wonna and tucking her back into her crib for a nap, Seungcheol returned to the dining room. By then, Wontae had retreated to his bedroom, engrossed in the toys his uncles had gifted him.

“Wontae loves Mingyu’s gift,” Seungcheol said with a chuckle, recalling how his son had immediately fallen in love with the plush corgi toy Mingyu had brought him. It was amusing how Wontae adored anything Mingyu gave, no matter what it was.

You laughed as you finished your meal. “Of course he does. He’s your son, after all. It makes sense he’d have a special bond with Mingyu.”

Seungcheol joined in your laughter, the sound warm and genuine. “Thanks, love,” he said when you placed a steaming bowl of rice and soup in front of him.

“Is your head still dizzy?” you asked, sitting beside him to keep him company while he ate.

He sighed, a touch of guilt crossing his features. “Not as much, but I really need to cut down on my drinking.” A rueful smile followed. “I still don’t get how you don’t drink at all—not even a beer.”

You smiled, amused by his amazement. “The last time I drank was before I got pregnant with Wontae,” you reminded him. Seungcheol’s eyes widened as the memory came rushing back—it had been at Joshua’s birthday party.

“Right!” he said, letting out a soft chuckle at the recollection.

Before he could say more, Wontae’s voice rang out, echoing through the hallway. “Eomma! Come here!” He came running into the dining room, eyes sparkling with excitement as he tugged at your hand, eager for you to join him in his room.

“How about we stay here and keep Appa company while he finishes eating?” you suggested gently, but Wontae shook his head, determination written all over his little face.

“No! I want to show you my drawing!” he insisted, practically bouncing on his feet. “Uncle Chan gave me crayons, and there are so many colors! Even five different blues!”

You exchanged a knowing look with Seungcheol, your heart swelling at Wontae’s joy. “Alright, let’s see your masterpiece,” you said, getting up and giving Seungcheol a reassuring smile before following your son.

Five minutes later, you returned to the dining room, barely suppressing your laughter. Seungcheol had just finished eating and looked up, curiosity piqued by your expression.

“You should see what he’s done in there,” you said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What did he do this time?”

“You need to see it for yourself,” you urged, playfully nudging him in the direction of Wontae’s room. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

With a grin, Seungcheol pushed back his chair, eager to see what kind of adventure awaited him in his son’s room.

Seungcheol opened Wontae's room and was greeted by the sight of his son enthusiastically coloring in his new book, using the crayons Chan had gifted him. The vibrant hues danced across the pages, a mix of scribbles and childlike shapes. Wontae’s eyes lit up when he noticed his father standing at the door. He bounded over, grabbing Seungcheol’s hand and pulling him toward his little art corner.

“Look, Appa! I drew a rock!” Wontae exclaimed, pride beaming from his small face.

Seungcheol’s eyes followed Wontae’s pointing finger until they landed on the wall. Oh my god. There, on the freshly painted surface, was a child’s drawing—a colorful depiction of what was presumably a rock, sketched in bold crayon strokes.

He froze, processing the situation. So this was why you had insisted he see it for himself. He could practically hear the smile in your voice when you said it.

“You drew on the wall?” he asked, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

Wontae nodded innocently. “But Eomma said it’s better to draw on the coloring book, so now I draw here. But sometimes it gets boring, Appa!”

Seungcheol felt a wave of relief wash over him. So you caught him and told him to stop. Thank god.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to quell the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Remember, Seungcheol, they don’t know better. They don’t understand how much work it is to paint a wall.

“Yes, your eomma is right. Drawing on your coloring book is best.” He sat down on the floor beside Wontae, the urge to scold replaced by the desire to guide. “Show me more of your drawings here.”

Wontae beamed at the invitation, plopping down next to his father and eagerly flipping through the pages of his coloring book. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile as he watched his son’s eyes sparkle with excitement, oblivious to any worry or consequence.

Every time Seungcheol’s eyes strayed to the drawing on the wall, a chuckle escaped his lips. It was ridiculous! He wanted to be mad, really mad, but he just couldn’t muster it. “You know you shouldn’t draw on the wall, right?” he asked his son, carefully suppressing the instinct to say, “I just painted that! Why did you draw on it?!” in a booming voice that would only frighten the boy. He took a deep breath, holding back the frustration that threatened to spill out.

Wontae looked up at his father’s face, his eyes wide with curiosity as he noticed something unusual. “Why is your face red, Appa?” he asked, putting down his crayon and reaching up with his tiny hands to cup Seungcheol’s flushed cheeks. Seungcheol let out another soft chuckle, his anger melting further.

“You know Appa loves this house, right?” Seungcheol said, his tone remaining gentle and warm.

Wontae nodded, his little head bobbing earnestly.

“No one in this house draws on the walls because Appa worked hard to keep them nice and clean,” Seungcheol explained, still smiling softly despite the chaos inside him.

Wontae bit his lip, his eyes beginning to glisten with tears. “Are you mad at me for drawing on the wall?” His voice trembled as he spoke, and Seungcheol’s heart lurched. Panic surged through him—he was the one who felt like crying, not his son!

“I didn’t say I’m mad at you,” Seungcheol said quickly.

“But your face says it…” Wontae mumbled, the quiver in his voice growing more pronounced.

Oh no. Shit.

“Eommaaaa!” Wontae suddenly burst out, tears streaming down his cheeks as he ran toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes darted to the doorway where you were standing, suppressing a smile as you scooped up your tearful son into your arms.

“Why? What happened?” you asked Wontae in a whisper, stroking his back to soothe him.

“Your father wasn’t mad at you, was he?” you asked softly, glancing over at Seungcheol with a knowing smile. “Did he shout at you?” Wontae shook his head, hiccupping as he clung to your shoulder.

“No,” Wontae admitted, his sobs quieting as you continued to comfort him.

“He was just talking to you,” you reassured him, casting Seungcheol a gentle, supportive look.

Seungcheol groaned internally, a mix of confusion and self-reproach. He thought he’d nailed it—the gentle parenting that you both had worked so hard to practice. Yet here was his son, still able to sense the tension in his expression, and hurt by it despite the lack of yelling or scolding.

Seungcheol sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “We’re on this stage now,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

You glanced at him, raising a brow. “What stage?”

“The threenager stage,” Seungcheol said, his tone carrying both exasperation and amusement. “I read about it somewhere. It’s when kids start acting like teenagers—rebelling, pushing boundaries, testing their parents’ patience. Wontae’s only three, but he already knows how to push all my buttons.”

You laughed softly, shifting Wontae in your arms as his sniffles subsided. “It’s not rebellion, Seungcheol. It’s curiosity. He’s learning, exploring his emotions, and figuring out how far he can go.”

“Exploring his emotions by drawing on my freshly painted wall?” Seungcheol deadpanned, though a small smile tugged at his lips. He wasn’t truly upset anymore—not when Wontae was looking up at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Exactly,” you teased, setting Wontae back down on the floor. “It’s frustrating, but it’s normal. And you handled it really well, by the way.”

Seungcheol tilted his head, raising a skeptical brow. “I did?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, giving him an encouraging smile. “You didn’t yell or scare him. You explained things calmly. That’s the kind of parenting that sticks with them, Seungcheol. He’ll remember this.”

Seungcheol glanced at Wontae, who had returned to his coloring book but kept sneaking shy glances at his father. He felt a wave of warmth wash over him, mingled with pride and relief. I can do this, he thought. Even when it’s tough, I can do this.

“Okay, buddy,” Seungcheol said, crouching down to Wontae’s level. “Let’s make a deal. No more drawing on the walls, okay? If you want to draw something big, we’ll find some paper or maybe a special board just for you. How does that sound?”

Wontae’s face lit up at the idea. “A special board? Really?”

“Really,” Seungcheol promised, ruffling his son’s hair. “But only if you promise no more wall art.”

“I promise, Appa!” Wontae beamed, holding up his pinky. Seungcheol chuckled and locked his pinky with his son’s, sealing the deal.

You watched the exchange with a fond smile, stepping closer to place a hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “See? You’re doing great.”

Seungcheol exhaled deeply, his smile widening. “Thanks, love. I guess I just need to remember to breathe. And to hide all the crayons.”

You both laughed softly, and for a moment, the chaos felt a little more manageable.

"One… Two… Three…" Seungcheol’s voice was steady as he counted while Chan, drenched in sweat, gritted his teeth to finish his push-up set. His arms trembled, and his face was etched with exhaustion, but he pushed through, determined to complete the punishment.

The door to the practice room swung open, and the rest of the group filed in, their faces a mix of confusion and amusement as they took in the scene. Seungcheol stood towering over Chan, arms crossed, while the youngest member struggled through the exercise. It was a far cry from what anyone had expected when they read Seungcheol's early-morning text asking Chan to come to the practice room an hour ahead of schedule.

"What’s going on here?" Joshua asked, barely hiding his amusement as he watched Chan squirm on the floor.

"Ten!" Seungcheol finished his count, clapping his hands in exaggerated applause. He smirked as Chan collapsed onto the floor, utterly spent. "That’s ten sets done—one hundred push-ups. Congratulations, Chan. That’s what you get for giving my son those crayons."

Chan’s pout was instant. "It’s not fair! It’s your son who drew on the wall. Why am I the one getting punished?" His voice was full of indignation, though it lacked the energy to be truly effective.

Mingyu burst into laughter, doubling over as realization dawned. "Wait, wait—Wontae drew all over the wall with the crayons Chan gave him? That’s hilarious!" He clutched his sides, nearly toppling over from laughing so hard.

Jeonghan, leaning casually against the doorframe, nodded in mock agreement. "Honestly, it makes sense. Seungcheol’s a gentle appa with Wontae—there’s no way he’d punish his precious son for something like this." He shot Chan a teasing grin. "But you? Yeah, I’d do the same if I were Seungcheol."

Chan groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. "This is so unfair!" he whined, his voice muffled. "I’m the innocent one here! Gentle appa is a fraud—he’s evil!"

Seungcheol couldn’t hold back his chuckle as he crouched down to look at Chan. "Gentle appa does exist," he said with a smirk, "but only for Wontae. You and your crayons? You’re a different story."

"See?" Jeonghan said, straightening up. "I told you. Seungcheol’s priorities are clear."

Chan sat up, still sulking. "Unfair. So unfair." He shot a glance at the others, hoping for sympathy, but all he got were amused grins and stifled laughter.

"Hey," Joshua added, chuckling softly, "at least now you know not to mess with Wontae’s creative genius—or his dad’s freshly painted walls."

Mingyu clapped Chan on the back, nearly knocking him over again. "Think of it as a lesson in self-sacrifice. You helped foster Wontae’s artistic side. That’s a win, right?"

Chan groaned louder, flopping onto the floor in defeat, while Seungcheol leaned against the wall with a triumphant grin. "Alright, everyone. Lesson’s over. Let’s get to practice before he starts crying for real."

"So unfair!"

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