#i don't know what i'd do just reading from a scroll like that. i find it very very hard to cope with that stuff
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This past class, my class was at a shul for touring.
They had a torah scroll they saved from the nazis. It was over two hundred years old at the time, discarded by the nazis in a huge pile of similar scrolls. Miraculously, it was saved - still usable. And they use it still. Children read from it now, mostly, when it's time for them to declare they will live a jewish life.
With or without permission and approval, the people of israel live and will live jewish lives.
#jumblr#jewish politics#antisemitism tw#jewish history#personal thoughts tag#nazism tw#nazi tw#the rabbi for this class got emotional telling this story of course and that just added to it#i can tell that scroll is absolutely cherished there as it should be#i don't know what i'd do just reading from a scroll like that. i find it very very hard to cope with that stuff#the shul is also safeguarding another nazi-era scroll that was stolen but it isn't kosher anymore#but it sits in the ark safely and is dressed in a lovely hand-made cover like the rest of their scrolls#just thinking about this raises my cortisol and gives me a lump in my throat
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i had so many things to do today, but i only wound up doing two. the two simplest things on the list, in fact. putting tabs on my sheet music and writing dates in my planner. no actual homework. (or more accurately, late work.) now a week of three classes' worth of work all has to be done tomorrow, and i already made plans with my friend for that afternoon. it's 1:32 in the morning. what am i doing anymore.
#friday chats#friday vs post-secondary school#tw vent#one of my assignments not actually due monday (from a t/th class) is to write a poem using a technique in one of several poems showed to us#had to pick a poem and technique in class; i hadn't read the textbook excerpt so i picked a poem and talked right out of my ass#i wonder if i could use extensive personification and allusions to human society to describe the mess that is my brain#something something a city with horrible infrastructure where traffic sucks and it's hard to even get from place to place. or something.#bc Good Fucking God#this time around i've been honest about the fact i'm behind when people ask how i'm doing#i thought maybe if i were open for once instead of fibbing that i was on top of everything i'd be met with assistance#but i've just gotten hollow ''oh you'll be okay! you'll catch right back up''s#(y'all online have been lovely. i'm talking about my family)#for God's sake i want HELP. ADVICE. ANYTHING but platitudes#i don't know how to make myself DO this#literally the fucking meme of the drowning person reaching for help and receiving a high five for their troubles#...i need to go to bed. i'm gonna do that. maybe i'll feel less like a sack of pain and misery in the morning.#in the meantime if y'all have any advice for combating still-trying-to-find-the-right-medication-dosage ADHD pls share it#i'm fighting for my life rn. and losing. badly#(though kind words would be nice too i won't lie. it's just the way my family says them makes it sound like they aren't really listening)#or you could just scroll past this post idk. do what you want. it's your dashboard
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Impersonations
Hi, Kat here! Usually, I don't interact in the community openly. I do scroll through Tumblr, YT comments, Discord, etc whenever I get the time, just because I love to see how people feel about the series/episodes/characters. I'm no stranger to people pretending to be me/Davis/Reed on other socials. There's not much I can really do about it but spread the word and hope people will figure it out on their own! But what really surprised me was a certain account on TikTok. I won't be spreading the account as I don't want to ignite anything, though it would be relatively easy to find them once I describe the material they are posting. Someone has been impersonating Davis, not correcting people who think it's the real them (from what I can see in their comment section) and post sexually graphic material. Some of their comments are...questionable, some of them seeming to be sexually directed at minors or myself. Implying things such as 'liking them young' or finding sex toys in my bedroom. This in of itself is very worrying, and I would like to let people know that Davis DOES NOT HAVE ALTERNATIVE ACCOUNTS! SAME WITH ME! The fact that there are some people under the impression that Davis would behave like this is upsetting, and we have tried reporting this account/specific videos but have had no success. Hence why I'm trying to spread the word to not believe everything you see online! I'd also like to take a moment to be real here. I understand that as a person with a following online, I have no control over what people say about me or do with my pictures/persona in private. But the amount of accounts that I believe belong to minors openly sexualizing me is really disturbing to me. I realize there's not much I can do about that, and in all honesty I don't mind characters I portray to be sexualized (as long as they are adults) but it's very different when it's ME, MY FACE people are sexualizing. Maybe that's something I need to get used to as a micro influencer (haha) but it makes me uncomfortable. This is not me calling anyone out (aside from that one TikTok account owner, I hope you read this and kindly either stop or clarify you aren't Davis/it's a strange joke) but I want to let people know my boundaries. Thanks for reading! I'll go back to lurking!
#the lunar and earth show#lunar and earth show#laes earth#laes#tsams#the sun and moon show#sun and moon show#invisible davis#the invisible davis#queen kat#queen kat productions
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can you eo a fic where riki has a secret gf and the members find out, like they see a spicy picture of the two on his phone or something
freaky ass couple gets caught by Jake 🤓 wc: 500
… chaotic mild suggestive content and some swearing
Riki had been dating his secret girlfriend for a few months now, and he was determined to keep their relationship under wraps from the other Enhypen members. He knew they would tease him relentlessly if they found out, but he couldn't resist the thrill of sneaking around and keeping a secret. One night, while all the members were chilling in the living room together, Riki was lying on the couch, lazily scrolling through his phone.
He had an album of pictures of you and him, some innocent and some a bit more risqué, hidden in a folder on his phone. He was so engrossed in one of the recent pictures you sent him that he didn't notice Jake standing behind him until it was too late.
"What's that you got there, Riki?" Jake asked slyly, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer.
Riki tensed up, quickly trying to hide the incriminating evidence, but it was too late. Jake had already seen a glimpse of the picture before Riki could close the app.
"It's nothing," he stammered, trying to act nonchalant. "Just, uh, some memes and stuff."
Jake raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. "Sure, sure," he said, leaning back against the couch with a smirk. "That's why your face is turning beet red right?"
Riki felt a flush creeping up his ears
"Look, I just. I have a girlfriend, okay? But I haven't told you guys yet, and I'd appreciate it if you could keep it to yourself."
Jake whistled, pretending to be shocked.
"Wow, our little Riki has a girlfriend! Who would have guessed?" He playfully slapped Riki on the back. "Just you know don't be looking at that kind of stuff in the open".
Riki blushed even harder, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he muttered.
"I'll be more careful next time. Just, please, don't tell the others yet. I'm not ready for all the teasing and interrogation."
Jake chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't worry, I won't say anything yet," he promised, placing his hand on his heart. "But you better be prepared, because they're gonna be relentless when they find out. Especially Sunghoon and Jay."
Riki groaned, running a hand through his hair.
"Ugh, I know. They're gonna grill me for every little detail. But I can handle it. She's worth it."
Riki glanced down at his phone again, smiling softly at his home screen picture of you. Despite the initial embarrassment, he was so excited to have someone to talk about you with.
Jake raised his eyebrows and shook his head chuckling. "damn didn't think I would ever see your nonchalant ass be so whipped, man. But I get it. Love makes us do crazy things." He clapped Riki on the shoulder.
Riki playfully pushed him away, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, shut up. You better not tell anyone about this, or I'll beat your ass-" he threatened jokingly and he received a message
Riki's phone buzzed with a message from you, prompting him to quickly open it and type out a response before Jake could peek over his shoulder
"lemme?...wrap a..fruit roll up around it- WHAT? Jake screamed as he read the message you sent riki
Authors note: had fun writing this lol enjoy!! 😭 requests open!!
© xosamioo 2024 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
#xosamioo#niki hard thoughts#niki hard hours#enhypen riki#riki imagines#nishimura riki#niki x reader#riki smut#riki x reader#niki imagines#enhypen niki#niki smut
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Sorry if you've already covered this, but I was scrolling socials and saw that the San Antonio zoo got a large donation to expand their savanna habitat. The only thing that jarred me as I read through their expansion plans was apparently they're going to be outfitting some 'safari' vehicles so guests can be taken into the habitat to feed and interact with the animals (from within the vehicle). I was always under the impression that this kind of interaction wasn't necessarily good for either the humans or the animals-- is there a way it can be done ethically?? Anyway, I just thought it was interesting!
Ooo, okay, your question aligned with a thing I've been chewing on for a while, so let's talk ~ethics~ and ~philosophy~ aka this is gonna be a bit long. I do promise I'll answer your question, though!
The first thing I want to note is that you're really asking about two different things, which are almost always conflated these days when it comes to talking about animals: welfare (is the animal happy / healthy / safe) and ethics (is what's happening good / moral / acceptable). It's really important that we distinguish between the two, because welfare is an objective measure of physical and mental wellbeing, and ethics are a human construct that involves subjective interpretation.
A useful but highly oversimplified example of this is the bothering of cats for online videos. Pestering a cat to get a funny reaction once in a while may not impact their overall welfare. Welfare is the cumulative impact of an animal's experiences, which means that single acute moments may not weight heavily on the entire balance. If the cat is healthy, fed well, enriched, and has a good and positive bond with their humans, those momentary irritations for videos might not matter much. That doesn't mean that you or I, as viewers, might not still find bothering an animal for internet clout ethical. We can believe that humans shouldn't ever unnecessarily put their pet through negative experiences, and we can think that doing so just because it brings the human money or fame is distasteful. But! We have to recognize that as used in this example, those ethical stances aren't inherently tied to the animal's welfare state. Many people I know who dislike cat-bothering don't care if the animal has good welfare outside of that situation - they don't like that the situation occurs at all, ever.
So, back to your question. You're wanting to know if it's okay for a zoo to have a drive-through aspect of an exhibit where people get to feed the animals. You're asking if it's safe for the humans and for the animals (which is a welfare question) and if that type of interaction is ethical. I could just tell you that of course it's fine, San Antonio is an AZA zoo and their accreditation only allows them to do "good things" but that's now how it works here (nor is it the reality of accreditation).
The safety aspect is one I'm not worried about. It's actually a pretty common thing for reputable facilities to do some sort of vehicle tour in savanna habitats, whether in the guest's vehicle (safari parks) or on a hay-ride type vehicle (zoos). Many of those allow guests to feed out specific parts of their animals' diets. Offhand, I know Tampa and Fossil Rim both have feeding tours like this in a staff-driven vehicle. It's not specified from the zoo's press release, but I can guarantee you that guests will not be driving those vehicles - which means the interactions will be proctored by staff and what people are feeding out will be carefully regulated. The habitat is going to have rhino, giraffe, zebra, ostrich, and antelope/gazelle, and I'd guess that the drive-through is going to stick to those latter two and maybe additional species. Those are animals where a car is an appropriate safety barrier.
As to if it's ethical to do? It's spiny question, because it depends very directly on the ethical perspectives of the person you're asking. I think it's fine - you may not. Let's break down the different things that come into consideration on the ethical side, and my responses:
"The zoo is commercially exploiting animals by letting people pay to get closer." If the issue is that people paying to get closer to animals is using them for money, well, that's the business model of a zoo (non-profit or not, they still need revenue to operate). So IMHO it's not like it's "less ethical" than anything else the zoo is doing, using that framing.
"Zoo animals should be allowed to be wild and undisturbed by guests driving in their habitats." Zoo animals aren't wild, and their entire lives revolve around humans and the human work schedule. As long as a vehicle entering the habitat doesn't have a negative welfare impact (e.g. they're not scared of it), it's not very different from the rest of the routine of managed care.
"Feeding zoo animals will encourage people to try to feed wild animals." Thanks to obnoxiously viral content creators, people are going to try to feed wild animals no matter what. Doing it in a proctored situation where a staff member can try to do some education at the same time is probably the best possible scenario.
"People just do those tours to get close to cool animals." People are always going to want to touch the animals. If being able to pay for a tour keeps them from jumping the fence to try to pet a rhino, great.
There's one more that I want to talk about separately, because I think it's where a lot of confusion gets generated. It's this idea that "Humans shouldn't be interacting with animals at all, any interaction is unethical and bad for the animals." This is a welfare crossover, but not one actually informed by welfare science in a captive situation. And I think it's because the internet lacks nuance. Yes, it is absolutely correct to say that with wild animals, you should never ever try to feed a deer out of your car (or similar). It is incredibly harmful to those animals on both an acute and chronic timeline. But thanks to the rage-bait algorithms on social media and people endlessly justifying doing stupid, dangerous, bad things (and getting pushback for it), there's been a lot of bleed between the public's understanding of what wild animal welfare is and what captive animal welfare is. Combine that with the reality that captive animal welfare cannot be assessed or diagnosed from a single context-less clip, and that people with strong beliefs and no practical experience with the field/species/individual will pass judgement loudly to their audiences...
The result is almost a reflexive believe in many sectors of the internet that any human-animal interaction that isn't couched as a "rescue" is inherently unethical, for reasons people often can't articulate. Which is why, I think, so often people want to support certain aspects of captive animal management but feel guilty for doing so. I see this a lot in the questions the blogs gets, and I'm glad people feel comfortable asking, because it's important to think through not just the individual instances but the patterns leading us to question them.
So yes, I'd say that a staff-led experience in a vehicle chosen for safety is an ethical way to proctor an interaction between guests and certain savanna species. It will vary by facility - I'm always more wary about guests driving, although many drive-through safaris are fine - and by setup. I think what San Antonio is doing will be fine, though, and will be interested to see / hear about the setup when they start up.
If you've got a question about ethical captive management, I'm always happy to talk about it - but I'd invite you to poke around in your head a little and send me not just your question in the ask, but your thinking about why or why not something might be concerning. It's great practice for understanding why you relate to animal ethics the way you do, and where those beliefs come from.
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i see ur thinking abt the marauders and i was just thinking abt them too!! i just saw a thread on twt abt how much men hate their girlfriends but wont break up with them (😖😖) and couldn't stop thinking abt how james would be so BAFFLED reading it!! would you be able to write something for that? its perfectly fine if not!! ily <33
I luv you! I'm not sure what thread you mean but I made a guess, sorry if it's not right ♡ fem, 1k
modern au. cw mention of toxic/hurtful relationships
"What is that?" James asks, pushing the sheets back as he climbs in beside you. His bowl of cereal is heaping, upwards of ten weetabix doused in milk, sugar, raspberries, blueberries, and a generous squeeze of honey.
"What?" you ask, showing him your phone screen.
James leans over you to scroll back up. "Men who hate their girlfriends?"
"Oh, it's like, people posting their screenshots, I think." You click on the tweet he'd been pointing at and show him the replies underneath. "It's just boys who act like they don't love their partners but won't break up with them either, there's loads on there."
"What?" he asks, holding his bowl in one hand. "Can I?" You give him your phone happily, watching as he reads through some of the examples, screenshots from different websites and forums. "'Recently had to tell a friend's bird that he was calling her all sorts of names. I'm loyal to my friends, but you could hear the hatred in his voice sometimes. She left him two days later and he was surprised, for some reason.'"
James' eyebrows pinch. He continues, "'Am I in the wrong for asking my husband to stay awake with me during my early morning labour? He keeps bringing it up.'" James shows you your phone screen. "Like, he's mad she didn't let him sleep through the birth of their child?"
"You know, there was a video on there a few weeks ago where a girl had put together a compilation of her boyfriend play fighting with her, and each video got nastier and nastier." You reach for the spoon to his bowl to start chopping up the weetabix the way he likes. "He was kicking her legs from under her and she was laughing it off. Once or twice, I'd think it was funny, but he wasn't even laughing himself."
"Why the fuck?" James asks.
"I don't know. Can I have a raspberry?"
"They're in there for you to steal…" James watches you chew. You try not to pay too much attention to his staring, plopping your phone down in the sheets between your legs. "Why are these boys getting with women they don't like?"
"I don't know, Jamie," you tell him honestly, wading through his bowl for another raspberry. "I think they get comfortable."
He accepts the spoon back from you and you slouch down the fabric headboard together. James eats his weetabix slowly, the TV sending a light blue light into your otherwise dark room. "It's a bit late for supper," you murmur. "Were you hungry?"
James puts his bowl on the nightstand. Coils of curls brush your forehead as he leans down, one big hand on the back of your neck and the other stretched across the shoulder furthest away from him, holding you in place as he kisses the top of your head. It's a weighty kiss, full of love. "I love you. Don't ever let anyone treat you like those boys on your phone, yeah?"
You hum lightly. "That's what boys are like."
"I know. I'm just begging you not to let people do that to you." He rubs your shoulder roughly, a massaging that hurts in the good way. "You know, if you can. I get that it's not their choice."
"Yeah. I think people want so badly to be loved that they'll take the pretend kind. I was lucky to find you before you found someone else. You always make me happy."
"This is what I mean," he whines, resting his cheek on your forehead. You sigh happily at his touch, more than ready for a night of his arms around you, a heavy leg thrown over your hips to lock you in. "You think you're lucky because of those dickheads."
"No, it doesn't have anything to do with them. Just you."
James sits up to turn your face to his. "Love you," he says, kissing you quickly.
"Love you too. Don't stress about the phone, babe, you're not the audience they're looking for."
James hears your teasing tone toward the end, poking your side. "What's that for?"
"Nothing, just, you tried to follow me into the bathroom last night even when I told you I wasn't showering. If you're that eager to sit with me while I pee, I doubt you'll be the kind of guy who ends up on that forum."
"It wasn't about the peeing, stop trying to shame me," he grumbles, again pulling you in for a hug, "it was separation anxiety. I miss you."
"I get why these women end up like that, though," you say quietly. "I get why they stay. If you started shoving me for a laugh or whatever, I'd think about this, because you love me. Does that make sense? I'm so happy right now that I wouldn't want to believe that you didn't love me anymore."
"I know. It's fucking sad. I can't believe they do shit like that, it's pure selfishness." James settles back in his pillow. "I wouldn't ever do that shit to you. I know everyone says that, but I have to say it anyway."
"I know, Jamie. Don't worry. I'm not worried about it, only talking."
You offer him your hand. James takes it, rubs the back of it, brings it to his lips for a barely felt kiss. "Is there anything happy on that app?" he asks.
"Uh, I saw a video of a baby girl who only stops crying when her cat comes to check on her. Or a pregnancy reveal where the boyfriend starts crying and begging her to get married."
James rests his face on your shoulder, snuffling into your skin contentedly, "Ah, so my future. Put it on, angel."
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter imagine#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter scenario#james potter oneshot#the marauders#marauders era#marauders
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❝late-bloomer❞
plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.
a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha
Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"
You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.
You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."
No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.
But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."
"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."
"I'm serious, Pete."
He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."
"How did it feel? Do you know?"
"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."
Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.
You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."
You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.
A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"
"Hm?"
"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."
Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"
A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.
You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.
But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.
At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.
Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.
But it wasn't laughing you worried about.
"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.
Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."
Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.
Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.
"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"
There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."
Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"
"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."
"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.
You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.
It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."
"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."
You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."
You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.
Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."
It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."
"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"
"I really don't want to. Move."
"Why are you shutting me out?"
"Because I want to go home. Move."
"Is it because of what I said?"
"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."
The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.
Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.
"I'll see you later, Pete."
You let his front door shut on its own.
It hasn't been great.
What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.
You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.
So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.
It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.
And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.
Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.
You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-
He's sitting in your kitchen.
Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.
You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."
Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."
Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"
"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.
You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."
"Busy avoiding your best friend."
You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.
The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.
"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."
Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.
"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."
"It's not a big deal?"
"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."
"So it doesn't matter at all."
"Correct."
"Right."
"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."
You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.
Suddenly, you're released.
You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."
You smile, "And I appreciate that."
Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"
"Zilch. Nada."
"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."
You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"
"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."
Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."
"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"
"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."
"And now we do."
"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"
He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."
You're six years old again.
You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.
You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.
And you're thinking... you start thinking something.
You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.
Peter's still staring at you, waiting.
Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.
But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.
You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.
When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.
Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."
Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.
Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."
He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."
You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.
Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.
You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.
You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"
You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"
Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."
"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."
"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"
"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."
"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."
Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"
His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."
You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.
Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."
"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"
"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"
You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."
You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.
This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.
So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.
Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.
You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"
You nod, speechless.
Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."
You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."
Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."
"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"
"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"
You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.
He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.
Did it? You stare up at Peter.
"We can try as many times as you want."
You might have a very different problem than you started with.
taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes
#peter parker x reader#peter parker scenarios#peter parker imagines#peter parker fic#peter parker fluff#peter parker angst#peter parker#spiderman x reader#spiderman scenarios#spiderman imagines#spiderman fic#spiderman fluff#spiderman angst#andrew garfield#spider-man#marvel#mjwrites#tasm
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Caught ; Mingyu and S.Coups
M/N and Mingyu like to sneak and go around to have fun together, but once they get caught by the leader.
Warnings : 14th member reader, oral (Mingyu and S.Coups receiving), Shower sex, getting caught having sex, threesome, Sub!reader, Dom!Mingyu, Dom!S.coups, Mingyu using names such as my love and slut, handjob, Scoups using the name nickname baby, MINORS DNI!
Genre : Smut
===============
M/N was walking towards the practice room. He was gonna go there alone because he needed to practice the new choreography for their comeback. M/N opened the door and when he did, he could have sworn that his jaw hit the floor. He saw Mingyu in the practice room too, wearing no shirt. He froze in place and almost dropped his phone that he was previously scrolling through. Mingyu acknowledged M/N's presence and smirked "Good evening. Didn't expect to see you here" Mingyu said, but M/N knew exactly that Mingyu knew about M/N coming here today.
"Don't play dumb, you came here because you knew I would." M/N said and tried not to glance at Mingyu's body that was glistening with sweat, perfectly sculpted and perfectly toned. Mingyu saw the blush on M/N's face and decided to tease him a bit further
"You catch up quite quickly, my love" Mingyu said with a devilish smirk. That nickname always stirred something inside him. He put down his stuff and smiled "Wanna practice together then?" M/n asked, trying to ignore the obvious bulge growing in Mingyu's pants. It's nothing new for M/N, Mingyu always gets hard just thinking of being alone with him. Mingyu smiled "I think you and I both know damn well we're not gonna be practicing here." Mingyu said in a matter of fact voice and M/N rolled his eyes.
Mingyu was correct and both of them knew it. That's why Mingyu was sitting on a chair next to the mirror, looking down at M/N who was sucking him off. Mingyu has always loved oral, especially receiving. He looked down at M/N with hooded eyes as his hand gripped the back of his head slowly, making him take more in his mouth. M/N responded with a small moan and continued to suck and lick. M/N has done this before to Mingyu, and Mingyu loves every second of every time they do it. M/N kept sucking him off until he felt Mingyu pull his head back and finish on his face.
M/N opened his mouth to taste as much as he could of it. Mingyu smirked at the outcome. He loved coming on M/N's face. It's a way to remind M/N who he belongs to. Mingyu smiled and leaned down to kiss M/N on his lips, tasting himself on it "You did amazing. As always" Mingyu praised and M/N stood up after "I need to go wash my face, and then actually practice" M/N said and Mingyu pouted "Fineee" He whined and M/N chuckled before heading to the bathroom.
It has been two days since the practice room event. M/N was laying on his bed, reading a book peacefully, when Dino entered his room "Hyung? Can you play a video game with me? Wonwoo was playing on his own and Seungkwan rejected me" Dino complained and M/N smiled, finding Dino's behavior adorable. "Sure, I'll play with you. But I have to shower first. I've been in bed all day and I smell awful" M/N admitted and Dino decided to joke about it "You always smell awful" Dino said jokingly and M/N scoffed "You little-" He cut himself off before he could say anything "I'll go set up a game in the living room, you can go take a shower. But be quick" Dino said and M/N stood up "yeah yeah. I won't take long" M/n said and took a pair of clean pants and a t-shirt and headed for the shower. He was about to close the door before a hand stopped it from closing. Mingyu slid into the washroom and then closed the door and locked it. "I'm gonna pretend I'm not offended" Mingyu said and M/N raised and eyebrow.
"About what exactly?" He asked and put down the clean clothes. "That you were going to shower. Without me!" Mingyu said over dramatically and M/n chuckled, finding it amusing "I need to be quick. I promised I'd play with Dino" M/N said and began to remove his jewelry "Why not play with me first?" Mingyu said, his voice dropping to a low and husky tone. "I need to be quick" M/N said and Mingyu wrapped his arms around his waist, squeezing lightly "Well aren't we usually pretty fast?" Mingyu asked and M/N blushed "i guess. But seriously, we need to be fast" M/N said and Mingyu smirked.
They both soon removed their clothes and got under the warm water. Mingyu didn't waste time beginning to touch M/N. He slid his big hands down M/N's back and onto his ass, giving it a slight squeeze. M/N blushed as he tried to wash his hair "You seriously need help. How can you be this horny all the time?" M/N questioned and Mingyu only smirked "I can't control myself around you. You're too irresistible." Mingyu said and flipped M/N over against the wall. M/N obeyed and he arched his back a bit, giving Mingyu access to enter him when he wanted. Mingyu ran his big hand along the curve of M/N's ass before going in between, inserting a finger inside him "A-Ah Mingyu.. we don't have a lot of time" M/N whispered and Mingyu inserted another of his long digits inside M/N's hole "I'll be as fast as possible, but I don't want to hurt you"
M/N nodded and tried to relax against Mingyu so it would be easier for him to enter. He took a deep breath and his hands balled into fists as he anticipated for what's to come. Mingyu then pulled his fingers out after a while of stretching him and adjusted his position so his dick was lined up with M/N's hole. Then he pushed the tip in, and slowly more, then more, using the water and his own precum as lube. M/N bit his bottom lip to not make too much sound, so the rest of the members wouldn't hear them. Mingyu took a firm grip of M/N's waist and began to move slowly in and out, making sure to not hurt him, but also making him feel pleasure. M/N let out a breathy moan, feeling the burning stretch as Mingyu's dick slid in and out of him.
M/N hummed, signaling Mingyu to go faster, and so he did. Mingyu quickened his pace, now moving at a rhythmic pace, hitting all the right spots that make M/N feel the most pleasure. After some time, there was a knock on the door. "Hyung? When are you coming? I've waited for a long time" Dino said from the other side of the door, and M/N's eyes widened as he realized that it has been a bit too long, and that Dino is not one to be patient. M/N cleared his throat and tried to get Mingyu to pause, but Mingyu showed no signs of stopping now. M/N breathed out shakily and tried not to moan as he tried to answer Dino "I just h-have to wash my... mhh~ hair" M/N said, muffling a moan in between his sentences. "Are you okay? You sound out of breath" Dino said, sounding a bit worried "Yes! I'm fine! I'm just a bit... tired... and i yawned... mh~" M/N said and covered his mouth as Mingyu quickened his pace. "Okay. I'll be waiting downstairs then. Don't take too long anymore" And with that, Dino's footsteps went further and further. M/N sighed out of relief and then moaned a bit louder as Mingyu hit a right spot again "You're a jerk" M/N said as he closed his eyes in ecstasy "You know you enjoyed that. The thrill of almost getting caught" Mingyu said and smirked.
A few weeks passed and during that time, one of the members started to get suspicious about M/N and Mingyu. S.Coups had noticed that the two disappear quite usually. He had his suspicions about what the two of them might be doing together every time they vanish, but he never really fully knew what. S.Coups is currently sitting in the living room when he hears a bed creaking sound from upstairs. He first didn't pay any mind to it, but when it kept on going on and on, he had to check it out. The only members home right now are him, Mingyu, M/N, Joshua, Hoshi, Woozi and Wonwoo. The rest are out doing their thing since they don't have anything on schedule right now. S.Coups slowly made his way up the stairs. He heard the bed creak from the end of the hallway, where Mingyu's and Woozi's room were.
He knew for a fact that the sound couldn't possibly come from Woozi's room, so he walked over to Mingyu's room and swung the door open. What he saw was exactly... well not exactly but quite close to what he anticipated. He saw M/N on all fours on the bed, being held in that position by Mingyu, who was thrusting into M/N, keeping a hand at the back of his neck to keep M/N steady. When Mingyu acknowledged S.Coups' presence, he stopped for a moment. "Hyung!" Mingyu exclaimed and M/N was pulled out of the land of pure bliss, straight back to earth. "huh?" M/N moaned and saw S.Coups at the door, leaning against the door frame, with his arms crossed, a smirk on his face and a visible growing bulge in his pants "no, no. Go on. Don't let me interrupt" S.Coups said and Mingyu smirked "Uh-huh? Does the leader want to join, hmm?" Mingyu asked with a teasing smirk and S.Coups closed the door as he entered.
"I've thought about what you two were up to always. Seems like my suspicions were true." S.Coups said and sat down on the chair. Mingyu then looked back at M/N, who was a mess under him, and continued to thrust into him, now a bit slower. "Oh? have you thought about me and M/N having sex?" Mingyu asked and went a bit faster, making M/N whine and moaning under him "You make me sound like a creep. But i'm not gonna deny that" Scoups said and smiled as he pulled off his pants, releasing his hardened dick and beginning to jerk off to the scene in front of him. Mingyu continued to fuck into M/N, making him moan louder. "Cheol?" Mingyu said and Scoups hummed "You want to shut him up?" Mingyu asked and Scoups smirked, getting up from the chair and climbing onto the bed in front of M/N. "It depends. Is he good at being shut up?" Scoups asked and Mingyu smiled "The best."
With that, Scoups lifted M/N's chin and pushed the tip of his dick inside his mouth. M/N obeyed instantly, and began to suck. "You like that? Having both of your holes filled at the same time, our little slut." Mingyu said with a husky tone and Scoups began to thrust into M/N's mouth, matching Mingyu's rhythm. Scoups smirked and grabbed the back of M/N's head, making him take his dick fully in his mouth. M/N gagged, but soon adjusted to the feeling and took him fully. "He's so good at this" Scoups praised and Mingyu smiled "I've trained him well." Mingyu added and then pulled out. "Position switch." Mingyu said and Scoups pulled away too.
Mingyu flipped M/N over on his back and adjusted his position so that he could enter his hole again "i want to see your face, my little slut" Mingyu said and M/N moaned, looking into Mingyu's eyes. "How about this, you have to beg for Seungcheol to let you cum, okay? You are not allowed to cum before Cheol tells you to" Mingyu said and M/N was too fucked up to form a coherent sentence, or even a word. Mingyu was hitting all the perfect spots that made M/N's toes curl and back arch. Scoups smirked and took a hold of M/N's hand and guided it to jerk Scoups. M/N was a moaning and whimpering mess under Mingyu, and he looked up at Scoups "Mhh~ please.. l-let me cum~" M/N begged as he kept jerking Scoups. "Cheol-hyung~ let me cum please... i'm so- ah~ close" M/N moaned and his back arched again as Mingyu hit that same spot over and over again. "You're such a good boy." Scoups praised and he was getting closer to the edge too. Scoups glanced at Mingyu who was also close, then he pulled M/N's hand off of his dick and jerked himself off, and soon came all over M/N's face. He moaned and soon Mingyu released too. "cum for us, baby~" Scoups whispered and M/N arched his back as he came hard. Mingyu was panting heavily, and so was M/N. Scoups watched the two of them as he came down from his high as well. "you're so amazing, my love" Mingyu praised M/N, who was still trying to catch his breath after the intense moment. "I could do this again some time" Scoups admitted and Mingyu smiled "You're always welcome to join us" Mingyu said as he pulled out of M/N and laid next to him and Scoups nodded "Maybe you could fill me up next time" M/N suggested and Mingyu smiled "I love that idea." Scoups said and put on his pants and t-shirt. "until next time then" Scoups said and closed the door after leaving.
"Did you have fun?" Mingyu asked and M/N hummed with closed eyes "yeah... was fun..." He said and took a deep breath, feeling happy. he couldn't wait for next time, maybe he could be filled by both of the men. But that's a surprise for M/N to find out later.
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#male reader#x male reader#seventeen#seventeen x male reader#mingyu#kim mingyu#scoups#choi seungcheol#mingyu x reader#mingyu x male reader#scoups x reader#scoups x male reader#seventeen x reader#kim mingyu x male reader#kim mingyu x reader#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x male reader#seventeen smut
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Falling for your co-host
PAIRING… idol!ni-ki x idol!reader | GENRE… fluff, romance | TROPE… idol x idol | WC… 0.7k
You stood nervously backstage at Music Bank, rattling with the script for the show. The bright lights and bustling atmosphere always made your heart race, whenever you and your group had to advertise your new comeback. you'd always find yourself pitying the poor MCs, who have to remember every line by heart, have to learn the dance to every single song, the poor guys have to have the mind of an elephant.
however, today was worse than usual, not because you forgot the lines or a dance move, today was your debut as of the Music Banks MCs, and not only that. You were debuting with the one and only Ni-ki from enhypen.
as you glanced from the side of your eyes, you spotted Ni-ki sitting calmly scrolling through his phone with a monotonous look on his face. curse him for being so nonchalant, while inside you were breaking down.
what if you forget your lines? what if you mess up the group's choreo? what if you talk over their leader? or accidentally say something rude? just as your brain was spiraling into an anxious turmoil, ni-ki gently tapped your shoulder.
"hey, you ready?" he asks as if he noticed your nervousness.
mustering all the confidence you could, you look up at him nodding with a graceful smile. "mhm, just a bit nervous. what about you?"
he chuckled, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm okay. don't stress okay? you'll do great, and since we're new they'll have room for forgiveness. so just follow my lead, alright?"
As the show began, you found yourself recalling the lines from memory yet making it sound so natural as if you didn't have a script. as time progressed, you could see yourself falling into a comfortable rhythm with ni-ki. due to his playful energy, harmless banter was tossed every now and then making the members of the group giggle.
between different segments, you found yourself laughing more and more since he would stop spewing out silly jokes, and you couldn't help but feel the warmth growing in your chest.
weeks passed with this chemistry, one that people have never seen on music bank, not chemistry this strong. with every interaction between you two, the edits grew, and fans began to pick out the way he looked at you. whenever he joked around how his eyes would look at yours to see your reaction. how before he would respond he would wait for you to say something first. you couldn't go a day without seeing social be filled with clips of the two of you.
one day, after the show had finished recording, you sat alone in the studio wanting to take a breather before heading back home. Ni-ki was walking around the building looking for you in hopes of potential progression in your relationship.
"hey," he said sweetly before taking a seat beside you. "you were amazing today."
as if you read his mind, you graced him with a smile and a gentle blush on your cheeks. " thanks, ki. you always make it so easy."
he turned to you with a smile, "i'm glad. you know, i really enjoy working with you, there’s no one else i rather have than you to be my partner."
your eyes widened, taken aback by his claim. "actually? awh ki, i thought you were just being nice."
with his eyes boring into yours, he shakes his head. "no, i mean it. whenever'm with you... i feel brighter. it's like you light up the room."
you look away, unable to meet his gaze.
he reaches out, gently taking your hand into his. "look at me will you?"
and within a second your eyes are back on his.
"would you like to spend more time together? outside of work?" he asks with a slight glimmer in his eyes.
"like a date?" you ask with hope.
"yea, like a date."
"i'd love that ki. in complete honesty, i've fallen for you." you say, with your heart pounding.
he grinned, pulling you into his chest, in a tight embrace.
from that day onwards, your bond only deepened. nowadays, you spend most of your nights in each other's dorms cuddling under the covers as a movie plays in the background. either that or late-night convenience store runs. but it's not like you'd have it any other way.
#fanfic#nishimura riki x reader#ni ki enhypen#niki x reader#nishimura riki#enhypen fluff#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#enhypen#niki imagines#niki fluff#enhypen niki#riki nishimura x reader#riki x reader
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................................................
"woah would you look at that, deku just took out that guy with a single punch!"
"he's so amazing!~"
"you're my hero!!!"
So many people chant, root, and holler for even the slightest glimpse of his attention, even a glance.
"Mr deku, what can you tell us about this villain, you hadn't even put up much of a hassle and yet he appears to be tired!" One report gleams.
It's true. He hadn't done too much, one simple practically, light punch and the criminal was already down, he knew that. Deku knew he was good, he knew others thought he was good. He thrived on that kind of energy.
"oh~, well you know, I'm not one to brag nor bring other people down, criminal or not we're all human." He sings to the reporter, hinting at the fact she gave the measly little lowlife schmuck at best, a promotion to 'villian'. cameras flashing everywhere as he heard a bunch of girlish screams, everyone looks over to see a bunch of fan girls rallying to get an autograph.
Dammit.
Izuku tried so hard not to let his smile faulter, its not that he disliked his fans, really he could never, he knows one of the reasons he's here is because of his fans, and he loves them all equally no matter what. However. scrolling on the Internet, especially as a pro hero it's hard not to go down a loophole of your own fans. Izukus fans are nice, sure. But they're also bat shit crazy.
Doxxing people for disagreeing, assuming he was gay for his best friend dynamite, writing fanfiction about him and his best friend dynamite, assuming he had a new significant other because he changed up his style of clothing??
Really his fans are too much, he loves them, he does. But they are just so...smothering?
As he sees the fans hurrying toward him he tries his hardest to jump away as he was stopped by a little deaf girl who wanted an autograph.
Shit. You can't NOT give a little deaf girl an autograph it'd be bad publicity. he sighs deeply in defeat, knowing how easily persuaded he is, he'll most likely be there standing, on his feet, smiling wide and big for fans, for the next hour and a half.
Izuku sighed deeply through his nose as he finally, after 5 more hours of working, made it back to his bed, that's all he wanted. He didn't bother taking his suit off just simply jumping in his bed and groaning at the comfort he longed for.
He grabbed his phone and opened Twitter.. that was the first mistake of the night, he scrolled through his feed coming across a post of a girl just rambling about her ever lasting love for deku.
He shifted in his bed so now he was laying back on his pillows, turning up the sound to hear your beautifully slurred voice.
"- like bro.. I don't think any of you understand how my NEED for this man is like just.. sigh. I'm about to go crazy bro. If I were given the chance I'd do unholy. Unspeakable. Down right horrendous things to this man, i- aHaAVE YOU SEEN HIS NEW HERO SUIT??" You were talking to your friend who had the idea to start recording you while you were drunk, laughing and snorting at you.
The video was posted by you, the caption read; 'my friend started recording while i was drunk and i randomly went on a rant ab my love for the #1 hero 💀'
He snickered at this, genuinely finding it funny, but sooner or later it registered in his brain what you'd said..you'd do what to him.
Before he knew it he was semi hard, he looked down at his slight hard on confused, there is no way this turned him on?? He had been sent so many videos of his fan girls from all ages going down on a dildo with his name slapped on it, he never found it the least but attractive, just kind of desperate..
He watched the video again, his cock becoming fully erect as he sighed at the uncomfortable feeling of his now leaking, completely hard cock, rubbing against his suit pants.
It had been a while since he'd done something like this.. since he had used someone..he needed this, just to relax. Just a couple of strokes to get him to come, that's all.
He let out a shaky sigh, slowly trailing his thick fingers up and down his clothed cock, earning a light squeak to rip from his throat due to the slight pleasure he felt from the gentle actions.
He knew he needed it, he needed this so badly, but he wouldn't rush it. He hated when he rushed things, he says 'they never get done correctly'.
So he would be patient with himself, gently palming himself over his suit pants, letting breathy sighs leave his slightly dried and chapped lips.
He looked over to his phone to see the paused video...
'oh what the hell.' he thought to himself as he grabbed the phone, angling and holding it close to his ear to hear your voice and the loud laughs that he hopefully tried to blur out of his mind. Focusing on your voice fully.
He held the phone close to his ear closing his eyes listening to your slurred speech, and the hiccups and giggles that left your mouth, he bit his lip as his palming motions began to get harder and more rough, "I would do down right horrendous things to this man." That line stuck with him, that's what made him undo his pants and shimmy them off so he could fully touch his leaking, crying cock.
He groaned in embarrassment and disgust in himself at the sight of his already soaked boxers, why did his cock have to be so leaky!!
He whimpered at the sight, pulling his boxers down just enough to have his cock hit against himself. He wrapped two fingers around his cock and rolled his eyes back, biting his lip to sustain the sound that wanted to come out. He stroked himself slowly, letting the precum on his tip continue to drip down his thick cock.
He had listened to the audio all over again this time fixating on the part where you'd talked about his suit. He had changed up his suit a couple of times, never really straying away from the original concept he had in highschool, the green was always there to stay, and he always liked the fact his suit was more of a jumpsuit kind of thing, but changing it over the years, he went with a tighter fabric for his new and improved suit, removing the bunny ears at the back, and adding a white cape, replacing his huge bulky gloves with just as thick, smaller and well fitted ones, the white the painted his suit was now black.
He hadn't done much to his suit really.
But you and so many others thought it was the sexiest thing in the world.
He loved that, that you loved his suit, he whimpered in a pitchy octave, eyes crossing as he shut them, breaths becoming uneven as he wraps his whole hand around his aching, dripping, cock. It yearned for release, he needed it, it hurt so bad but felt so good he couldn't stop, he was sooo close!
So so close, and yet.. not close enough to get him there. He abandoned all self respect and hope for 'not rushing things' he needed to come and the only way he could is if he really touched himself.
He ripped off the top of his hero suit before rummaging in his bedside drawer to grab a Fleshlight, it was a lot more advanced than your normal average pussy shaped fleshie, it had handle and so many different modes!!! It vibrated and wiggled and had a squirt thingy that shot lube inside to make his cock slippery, not that he'd need it, his cock is like a water fountain with so much cum to give.
He turned it onto its highest setting before settling his twitching cock, dribbling with precum, inside of it.
He couldn't contain the line of moans that ripped out of him, he wanted to really he did, he wanted to keep quiet for his neighbors but he just couldn't, he felt so fucking good, he'd felt that he'd never been this hot or bothered before especially not because of some measly audio that wasn't in any way remotely sexual, and yet he was so close to cumming because of it. This video. This person. You.
You were so close to making him cum.. he was right there bucking his hips up into the contraption, shaking, whilst his whole body spasmed as he threw his head back, sweat dripping from his tired and spent body, he groaned and moaned so loudly it was so lewd, he was so lewd. He couldn't believe what he was doing, he felt so dirty, but in this very moment, he couldn't care. He was so drunk off of the immense amount of pleasure he was receiving that all he wanted, needed, was to cum.
And when he finally released with a high pitched moan, globs of tears leaving his rolled eyes, there was so much, ropes of his white, hot, thick cum squirting inside of the toy. It was still vibrating against his softening cock, it made him so overstimulated yet he couldn't move, his orgasm was so strong he didn't have the energy to take his cock out. He just sat there, holding onto the toy that continuously vibrated and massaged his limp, thick, crying cock, crying, sniffing, and whimpering.
Hell he'd probably already came again without even knowing it, his orgasms had gone on for a while, he still couldn't move, just blissfully laying against his bed, covered in sweat and tears streaming down his reddened freckled face.
As he regained his composure, the overstimulation was more than enough, he hiccuped, wiping his face from the tears and sweat that covered it, as he turned off the toy and tossed it off of his bed, he was half naked, hot, and hungry.
He groaned as he draped one of his arms over his face, feeling the sweat and tears cover his forearm, as he heard the video that had been playing over and over again on repeat. His eyes shot wide open as he scurried to grab his phone. he looked at the video in disgust. Had he really just gone to a new low, and came to this stupid video of a dumb drunk girl complimenting him??
His post nut clarity was always bad, especially because he did some pretty down bad, disgusting, sinful things. But this? Yeah he deserved to suffer for all eternity.
He groaned placing his phone under his pillow as he buried his face in said pillow, squeezing his eyes shut at how hard he'd came, his cock still filthy and sticky with his thick ooey gooey cum, now dirtying his bed.
................................................
AN: he hates himself for how much and how hard he came, he really does.
I'm making a pt 2🤭
#deku smut#deku x reader#izuku is so girlie pop#izuku x reader#boku no hero academia#mha#mha x reader#cvnts-post
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25 DAYS OF HYPSMAS - Day 1
"Amnesia"
I'd like you to find a nice, comfortable position, dear listener. A place and pose where you can read my words scrolling across your screen with little effort.
I'm going to be guiding you down into trance with these words, so comfort and ease are very important. You don't want anything to come between you and my words, do you?
After all, if you've been following this blog for long, you know these words have a way of slipping through the cracks of your mind and replacing whatever silly little thoughts you had cluttering up your head previously.
So of course you'll follow along, doll. You'll listen, and go along with my words. Because I say so, and because I know that more likely than not, you love to obey.
Now that you're reading obediently along with me, all comfy, I'd like to talk to you about the idea of memory. Recollection.
Your memory is a powerful tool. Everything it sees, hears, and encounters is catalogued away for recall when you need it, whether you think your mind is sharp as a tack or full of holes.
Sometimes, though, things do slip through holes in your memory. It's completely natural to find that you can no longer recall the face of your first grade teacher, or remember what your mother was wearing on the day of your 18th birthday. Those memory holes are completely natural, and the focus of our chat today, dear listener.
Those memory holes can be manipulated by someone with a level of trust and access to your mind, you see. Hypnosis makes a lot of things possible, and one of my favorite things to do is to take those memories and put them away for a while. Leaving the reader or listener nothing but a happy empty shell, ready to be filled with whatever I feel like.
That's a lot to take in all at once, and I understand if your poor little mind is feeling a bit overwhelmed. It makes sense, then, for your eyelids to start feeling so, so heavy. For your arms and legs to begin feeling limp, soft, and powerless.
And the trance that you find yourself falling into isn't so different than one of those memory holes, is it? Fuzzy around the edges, barely aware, and every time you try to picture something, your mind just drifts back to my words flowing through you.
It only ever gets easier and more natural to focus on these words. You can try and put your mind towards something else, but these words are much more present in the moment, and you're drawn into them more and more deeply. Your thoughts are nothing but thought, after all. Ephemeral and whispy, while my words are solid, tangible, and so deeply inviting.
And as you listen, as you find yourself further wrapped up in my words and dragged down into trance, it's natural to find yourself having trouble remembering more than a few sentences back. You're much more focused, and it's much easier to focus, on what's being said right now. Even if you tried to read up, you'd just find yourself back here, more ensnared and vacant than before.
Names and faces of old friends, the interior of your childhood bedroom, what you are for breakfast this morning, all just melting into soft, blank mental fuzz. Certain tidbits might stick out in your memory, but it's so much easier to pay attention to the blurred lines along the edges, growing more and more hazy and empty, just like your mind itself.
It's so hazy, there inside your mind... Thoughts and memories drifting in and out of focus...
And to help focus you onto something, here, dear listener. Let me help.
There we go, see? Much better. So easy to let the memories drift away from you now. Those holes in your mind, in your memory, widening and spreading themselves open... Spinning like that pretty spiral... And more and more things begin to drip through.
Almost as if more and more memories are being sucked down into the spirals inside of your mind, out of reach.
Things like your name, your face, the name of your hometown, your favorite foods... All just dropping nice and neatly into one of those wide memory holes.
Not only that, but memories of stress, of pain, of aching, all disappearing into those spiraling holes as well. Entirely emptying your mind into these spirals. Remembering nothing, recalling nothing. The spiral and my words don't discriminate. They suck in everything, leaving you calm and placid and vacant.
Here's the spiral again, to help the process along.
Feeling these things gently and easily leaving your awareness as they do so. They're in the hole, dear listener. Lost to the pretty spiral. A silly hypnotoy like you couldn't possibly grasp them in there. As far as you know, you've always been like this.
So you just sit. You feel yourself smiling blankly for me now, without really knowing why. You just watch the pretty spiral, read the pretty words, and understand that as you are now, it's so deeply and completely impossible to remember anything. In the final stages of being emptied out.
Even as you read my words, they pass through that empty mind like water through a sieve. Changing your brain, changing your thoughts, and then disappearing. They were never there. You've always been like this.
A blank slate. Every breath, every twitch, every blink keeps your mind in this state. Unable to remember your name or what you've just read, and unable to remember why. You've always been like this.
But you can't help but feel this little itch at the back of your mind. You can't remember who or where you are, but you're dimly aware that you should. That you want to. Your memories have to be somewhere... You just have to find them.
And since you've dropped down like this for me, since you've been in trance for as long as you can remember, I'm going to let you in on two secrets.
The first, and most important, is that this empty state is temporary. From the time you finish reading this post, and my words and spirals leave your vision, your memory is of course going to return. I'm not a monster, after all.
Let's say... an hour?
That sounds good. From the time you finish reading this post, your memory will be completely out of reach for one whole hour.
At the end of that hour, those memory holes will shrink to their normal size, and everything that you've stuffed in there will come flying out, back into your mind. Leaving you just as you were, remembering just as much as you did, before reading this post.
You're not going to remember that this time limit exists, of course. You won't remember any of this. You'll just be your blank happy empty little self, and suddenly your personality and reality will come flying right back into your mind, like nothing ever happened.
And the second point is more of a question...
Where could you go to find your lost memories?
Well, that's simple.
I've hidden them in all the posts on my blog, silly toy. Not sure how on earth you could have forgotten that! Every single past post of mine is a clue to who and what you are.
So in this hour that you won't remember, explore. Try and figure something out about your old memories. Who are you? Where are you? Search through my posts. What must you like? What must you act like?
I look forward to hearing about your findings, and I'll see you in an hour.
Now, wake up~!
#mind control#hypnok1nk#brainwashing#hypnosis#mind conditioning#trance#hypno pet#voxhypno#bimbo hypnosis#dumbification#amnesia#hypnotic amnesia#hypnotic#hypnotic trance#hypnotized#hypnotist#25 days of hypsmas#empty head#mindless#blank#no thoughts head empty#dumb wh0re#dumb kitty#dumb puppy#dumb bunny#dumbing down#hypnotized girl#hypno toy#hypno files#hypnosub
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i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝
me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)
light years.
summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.
pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi
I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue
I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier
One.
Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.
While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.
Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.
And above all, he's got you.
You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.
You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.
Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.
"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"
What does he think?
Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.
Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.
It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.
In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.
You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.
Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.
Two.
Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.
Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.
But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.
He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.
It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.
As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.
He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.
Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.
He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.
"How did it go?" he asks gently.
You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.
"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."
Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.
You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.
Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.
Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.
"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."
Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.
I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.
But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.
"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."
Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.
Three.
Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.
To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.
You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.
He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?
He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.
You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.
You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."
"Please elaborate."
"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."
Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?
"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."
"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"
And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?
I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.
You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.
For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.
But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.
"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."
Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.
Four.
Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.
Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.
He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.
You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.
All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.
Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.
"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.
Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.
He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.
You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."
He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.
He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.
Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.
Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.
He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"
"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."
Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.
You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.
"What look?"
"You had a look."
"No, I didn't," Minho insists.
"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"
He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.
"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.
You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."
"What? I'm speaking from experience."
"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"
"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."
Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"
"How do you know they didn't come true?"
"Because..."
Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.
Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.
"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."
There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.
"No, what were you going to say?"
"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.
"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.
What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?
And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.
"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."
He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.
But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.
What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.
Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.
The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.
"I've waited for you long enough."
His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"
You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.
Then it all comes rushing out.
"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."
Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.
If you really love me too.
Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.
He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.
He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.
"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."
You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?
You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"
Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.
Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"
You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.
Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 06.05.2024]
#stray kids fic#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#skz fic#skz imagines#skz x reader#skz x you#lee know fluff#lee know angst#lee know scenarios#lee know x reader#lee know imagines#lee know x you#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#stray kids#lee know#lee minho
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How to Spot AI images (Hopefully)
So, I did see GailyNovelry's excellent post on this (Link here), but saw that there also were some confusion and they were using a environment image as their example, so I thought I'd do a breakdown that was more character centric.
The key thing with AI images is that the program does not know what it is making. And, arguably, they thrive on that we are currently conditioned to not really look at things for too long before we hit that engagement button and/or just scroll onwards to whatever next the algorithm feeds us.
It's hard to fight that urge, I know, but if you just pause and look, you'll soon start spotting things that just do not make sense, and I don't just mean that the pretty booby elven fighter is sporting seven fingers on one hand. Those are the obvious things. I'll try to cover the general sort of artefacts that tend to tip me off to the fact that a image is generated rather than actually hand-made by someone making informed design decisions as opposed to trust what amounts to RNG. I think this is important as there's those who do not tag their images as AI generated, and try to scam people with commissions.
And, as the saying goes... The devil is in the details.
To start with I picked this image from deviantuser CeiEllem. At first glance, it looks... very impressive. Sharp looking elf lady with killer hair. 10/10 wish I could rock that haircolour.
But, it is AI generated. Aside from the general tell that is this hyper rendered, near photorealistic style that AI images often have, there's a lot of details that tips it off to just not having been made by a human who actually made the decisions.
Since AI is just working off patterns and not actual decisions, things like hair is a immediate giveaway that you're looking at a AI image.
(Deviantart users: daralyth, DavidZarn and lunayokai)
In all these three images you can see just how hair whisps off into weird nonsense shapes or even meld into the background or clothing. Because, again, the AI doesn't know what its doing, just working with shapes. Similarly, background elements that just stop and start randomly is a dead giveaway, like the tail in the first image.
As I've said, details is the key to spotting these images, and another giveaway is the sheer density of details that is just noise.
This is from users Rigtorok7, and the details are so noisy, absolutely miniscule in scale, and hypersharp, yet have no actual design to them. Artists imply details all the time. We don't render out every single nook and crevice, and since we actually know what we want the viewer to look at, we'll pull back and simplify things so you don't want to look at the big chunk of very noisy hair ornament or necklace instead of the face of the character.
For comparison, this is how it looks when I, personally, indulge in doing 'overdetailing' of something (because I am forever weak for painting jewelry).
BUT I want to stress that the key here isn't that detailing equals AI generated. The key is the lack of design choices IN the details. There's a lot of artists out there, and someone painting out all those nooks and crannies in something doesn't mean they are a AI user. This painting by Leighton is super detailed but you see the intent with all the details. You have a focus with the people in the boat and secondary read of the figure in the door, where the details are a lot more implied and less sharp.
AI can't do that, because AI isn't making any decisions.
I couldn't find any good example once I went looking, but if you're into fantasy art: look for people just holding weird 'swords'.
AI is rapidly evolving, so who knows how much this'll help in 3 months, but for now, this is how I spot things.
But, in the end, the biggest giveaway that someone is using an AI generator is that they've filled up page after page on deviantart/artstation/wherever in the past like... six to nine months, and often swing between wildly different styles. If you're unsure, look up the source of a image. Another clue can be generic 'untitled' or just 'elf lady' sort of titles, since someone uploading 30 images a week isn't going to make unique titles for each image.
Also, commissioners. ... you should ALWAYS get a sketch and progress image from a artist that you hire. My art directors would have my head on a plate if I didn't send them a rough sketch and progress shot before finalising the image.
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okay so yet again i was scrolling through insta reels and i saw this and immediately thought, 'oh jason would love one of this with his helmet' so i thought i'd share (hopefully the video doesn't just disappear into the ether or this wont make much sense but yeah)
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C8XdIwStYFg/?igsh=MWdzZXVpZHV3dm8zbw==
((in case it does for some reason disappear, it was a reel of a girl making a diy spiderman mask shirt with a pattern and then the red colouring bit of the mask was filled in with kisses using paint))
but yeah, i think making a red hood one for jason would be so fun and i just know the man would be so so smitten when it's given to him
anyways, love you, glad your posting again
- the ever present 🦊
"the ever present" OMG I ADORE YOU!!!!!! hi baby, been missing you with your brain tickling requests (i have one on hold but just you wait)
i've been looking to do one of those for me with red hood's logo bc i'm as single as one can be and i know i won't be getting someone to do this for me but okayyyyyy i can do it on my own. here comes something short but done with a lot of love
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𔓕 ۪ ۫ ୭
jason had been waiting outside the room for hours maybe, he was just sitting on the couch as he looked at the door like a sad puppy because he had arrived this morning to your apartment looking foward to spend time with you. some cuddling, watching a movie together or reading, jason just wanted some quality time with his beloved.
he knew you had been busy during the week with a huge amount of projects you wanted to do but he wasn't expecting you to get so fixated over one to lock yourself into your room and not even peek to see him and he didn't knew why, what jason also didn't knew was the fact that you were already getting dizzy by the smell of paint inside your closed room as you placed the shirt over your desk again, grabbing a pencil to fix the outline of the desing for the hundreth time in the day.
"fuck, fuck, fuck..." you muttered as low as you could to keep jason from darting into the room and ruin the surprise and it took you a good couple of hours to finally have it done, the paint almost completely dry now and the image of it was neat, making you smile and giggle happily.
and it's just then when you decide it's time to open the door, peeking your head through the small space to find jason almost melted on the couch, his head resting against the wall as he kept his eyes closed but it wasn't even a second by when he snapped his eyes open to look at you with a small frown.
"baby? why are you-?" she stopped mid sentence, taking in the sight of your paint smeared lips and chin, the red bright color now cracked on your skin as you smiled back at him as if you just made the biggest discovery in your life.
"hush! c'mere, jaybirdie" you say, leaving the door to your room wide open just to reveal the fact that your whole frame was a mess and that the paint was not only on your face but it had dripped to your shirt and also to your bare thighs to the skin that wasn't covered by the sleeping shorts you were wearing.
jason stands up from his seat, stretching completely from his quick nap and walks into the now messy room. the small paint pots across the floor and desk in different shades of red, paint brushes here and there and then the sight of you standing in front of the middle of your desk, covering something jason couldn't quite see well enough to know what it was.
"i saw something and i had to do this... it's probably the cheesiest thing i've ever done so feel free to laugh at me" and those words make jason tilt his head because what on earth could be so cheesy and made with paint that needed this much time leaving him out of your room? because yes, jason wanted to cuddle and don't blame him.
"princess-" he starts but goes silent the second you pull from the desk a black shirt with a print of his helmet on it, all made in different shades of red kiss marks that emulated the shade of light and everything. his lips remain parted as he walks slowly towards you, his fingers gently tracing the outline of the print on the shirt before he looks at your face, the paint in your skin the evidence of the time you spent painting your lips and pressing kisses to the shirt to make something so sweet for him.
"is it too much? you know, you can just put it into your closet if you don't like-" but your words are cut by a tender kiss, jason cups your face in such a delicate embrace as he lets all his feelings pour into that simple kiss.
"i love it. i love you" he says, his voice a soft whisper even in that deepish tone of his and it makes your heart flutter because jason looks completely happy with the shirt as he holds it into his hands, still admiring the way you decided to replicate a part of him "it's just perfect..."
"can i wear it already?"
the question itself is the sweetest reaction he could give you, the eagerness to wear something you made for him making you giggle excitedly as you shook your head with a small pout.
"not yet, red... i should iron it and give it a quick wash so the paint stays on the fabric" and he pouts slightly because god knows how much he wishes to have your kisses closer to his heart.
#⭒ k2ntoss ⭒#⭒ 📬 ⭒#🦊 anon#jason todd fluff#jason todd headcanon#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd imagine#jason todd blurb#jason todd fic#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd songfic#jason todd#red hood imagine#red hood headcanon#red hood fluff#red hood fic#red hood fanfiction#red hood blurb#red hood x fem!reader#red hood x you#red hood x reader#red hood x y/n#red hood#dc comics#dc comics reader insert#dc comics imagine#dcu
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Could you do a Y/n x Rafe Cameron fluff where they go from friends to dating but they start dating bc of topper was texting y/n to talk rafe that she likes him and all that stuff but topper didn’t know that rafe was on her phone when he sent those messages, and make it super fluffy and stuff!! Please and Thank you!! Btw I love your work!
exposed ❀
rafe cameron x reader.
warnings: none.
words: 740.
summary: rafe sees a text from topper, exposing your little crush on him. at first you try to play it off, but you gain enough confidence to tell rafe about your feelings.
request: yes!!
a/n: this is such a cute idea tysm! thank you for requesting i really appreciate it. love and reblog if you enjoy, possibly a follow if you're feeling generous. im so happy to have an audience to share my stories with. :)
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rafe cameron was the sexiest guy you had ever met. unfortunately, you were stuck in the friend zone. you never attempted to make a move, too nervous to ruin what you already had. the friendship was nice, and rafe was too difficult to read.
he was currently at your house for a hangout sesh. you two started with watching a movie, eating popcorn, laughing at the cheesy lines. you guys' shared looks, cringing at the poor acting. "would you be down to order some food?" he questions. "i'm down! what would you like?" you open doordash on your phone, quickly handing it to him. "let me see what they have." he scrolled the app, overwhelmed by all the choices. he chose a restaurant, now searching for what meal he wanted to order. he laughs suddenly. and you get nervous. "what?" you question, he points your phone towards you, a text from topper. are you with rafe right now? you need to tell him how you feel.
a red tint lifts to your cheeks, you bite your lip nervously. you are unsure of what to say, so instead you stay silent. topper texts again, come on you know he likes you back it is so obvious. you dramatically grab the phone from rafe, "maybe let's wait to order food, or we can use your phone." you set it behind you, ultimately pissed at topper for exposing your secret so carelessly.
"do you like me?" he's calm and curious, his face completely unreadable and now your stomach is flipping at the thought of telling rafe the truth. "i don't know what topper is talking about, were just friends." you laugh gently, quickly glancing away. when you look back, you see a moment where his guard is down. sadness flashed over him, but he quickly covered it up. "right, why would we ruin what we have?" silence settles between you two, time slowly passes as you stay on the couch, unable to move. "why would topper even think that?" he questions, smiling. he elbows you gently, "i don't know. i think he just feels bad because i haven't had a date in a month." rafe nods, looking away. you think for a moment, and after that moment passed you came to the realization that topper was right. the longer you wait to tell rafe, the more time you give your feelings to fester. it's better to rip the band aid off, cut the plug before anything got too far.
"topper knows that i like you rafe." you straighten yourself out, finding courage to admit everything. "all summer he's been urging me to express how i feel, but i've been too scared." rafe is shocked at your words, his heart starts to race. he stays quiet, letting you continue. "i never thought i'd tell you, because we are great friends. and i'd rather be just a friend, then risk losing you entirely. but i can't hide it anymore. my feelings are real..." you lower your voice, "my attraction to you is real too." you look at rafe, desperate for him to say something, "i really like you too, but i didn't think you could love someone like me." you shake your head, shushing him gently. "don't say that. you deserve so much love rafe." he forms a small smile, you lean in, "would you consider going on a date with me?" he shakes his head and for a moment your heart stops. "i'd rather be your boyfriend." you sigh with relief, "of course rafe." you lean in for a kiss, his arms immediately wrapping around your waist. "i've been dying for this moment." he whispers, close to you. the close proximity to rafe fills you with nerves, his scent strong, and his eyes soft. "me too, so bad." you kiss him again, hungrier this time. desperate for his taste and touch. you pull away, "i should have said something sooner, huh?" he grins. "definitely. but at least you did today." you frown.
"why didn't you make a move first?" your question was endearing to him, he shrugs, "well i didn't know if you actually liked me or not, and i figured if you did like me, you would have said something already." you pull him into a hug, and he snakes his arms around you. "let me take you on a date tomorrow." you grin, "yes please." he looks at you, "it's a date."
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fluffy#rafe cameron x reader fluff#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron story#outer banks fanfic#outer banks fluff
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spring thief — xiangli yao x f!rover
(listen to this song while you're reading)
Peach blossoms usually sprout small buds.
A tiny, fragile thing. In spring when the tree blooms, its petals are perched on its branches, enclosed like hands in prayer. Sometimes they stay there, sometimes they fall onto the ground. When they do, awaiting hands always catch them, careful not to break them open.
While others believe its fragility is its downfall, only a few know of its true essence; waiting for the season when its pretty petals would open, the sweet smell dancing in the air. Xiangli Yao is no stranger to such occurrences, being a genius not only in the automotive field, but also in the nature of things. Watching a particular thing, glancing at sleepy eyes under the shade.
Like the peach blossom buds, somehow, you were there, too—waiting.
In the afternoon haze, a golden hour shade over the Academy, Xiangli Yao notices your sleeping figure.
Buried in the heaps of scrolls and papers, your head rested on your arms as you tried to nap. Albeit your workspace is plastered by the window overlooking the ocean, the blooming peach blossom as your source of shade—a good place for productivity, you claimed, being in touch with nature and your workplace—a few rays of sunshine still caresses your cheeks.
In hindsight, you looked like you were working hard with your head down. But between the Principal Investigator and you, the esteemed Rover of Jinzhou, you both knew it was far from that—a lazy weekday afternoon away from the pressure.
“I don't think you're faring any better,” Xiangli Yao chuckles at your nth attempt to block out the sun with the heaps of paperwork, “Shouldn't you move to another place, maybe, away from this?”
Fluttering your eyes open slowly, you pouted as you watch him lean to your predicament. “No...I don't want Baizhi to examine me again.”
“So you resorted to doing my paperwork.”
“Mhm...”
“...to which you tried to sleep on it.”
“Sorry!” You scrambled to sit up, tired eyes fighting to close again, “I promise I didn't drool over them.”
But Xiangli Yao gently places his hand over your head, lightly lowering it down back to the desk. “Honestly I don't mind, even if you drooled over them. Go back and take a nap.”
Helplessly, you followed his instruction, allowing yourself to relax in his hold. By the time your head had completely nestled back in your arms, you watched Xiangli Yao mimic your actions in the opposite direction. Resting his head on his robotic one, he tilts his head to meet your eyes.
“...Huh?”
Purple eyes glint in amusement. “I figured I'd share Mortefi's rage with you.”
You burst into fits of giggles. “Really? I thought you hated being scolded by Mortefi.”
Reflecting your joy, his smile makes his eyes close. “There are far more important things other than this paperwork.”
Using his free hand, he boops your nose. “Your sleep, for example.”
A comforting conversation between good friends. That was what you were to each other; despite the science of the unknown being in the way, Xiangli Yao guides you through it all, while you were there to be his muse in finding answers.
“I can't recall my sleep being as important as your paperwork.”
“Didn't you say Doctor Baizhi is preparing to examine you again?”
“I do, but I really just want a small break for now,” a small whine escapes your lips, “It hasn't been a week since the Moon-chasing festival.”
“True,” He hums, “Oh, it wasn't enough for you?”
Shifting your position so your chin is rested on your propped arm, you shake your head. “Of course not. I had so much fun...”
Your mind fondly remembers the event—bright lights, the moon, loud laughter, and the warmth of a familiar hand. Trailing to meet the same purple eyes in your memory, ones that looked at you, mirroring you.
At some point, before you could even say anything else, there was an irregular knock behind you. Looking back, you watched the peach blossoms sway with the wind as they fall to the ground, the flurry of flowers turns into a storm. Bracing yourself from the impact, you quickly try to shield the both of you, but a warm hand stops you.
“Oh, it must be time.” Xiangli Yao speaks as if this occurrence was something natural.
Looking back at him, you said, “Are you sure this isn't a storm?”
“It's pretty normal, to me at least.” He shrugs, “If you think about it, was there anything normal in Solaris-3 at this point?”
He makes sense. Relaxing in his hold, you mutter, “But still, it's so new to me.”
“I've always seen it happen whenever it's almost summer.” Xiangli Yao stands up and approaches the window. The flurry of flowers is still there. “It means that it's coming.”
Opening the window, the fresh scent of the tree almost drowns you. A few small petals and buds enter through the opening, landing on your lap and hands. Watching the man in front of you catch a few flowers in his robotic hand, a fond look in his gaze.
“Have you ever heard of the story of how trees, even as old as this one, can still bloom despite the years?”
Gently taking the buds in your hand, you glanced at the man, “No, what was it about?”
“Jinzhou may be young, but the trees have long been around even before its birth. And they only knew of our ancestors' love, a love that resonated so long, that it echoes even until now.”
Some buds and petals litter your hand. There was a tiny one, resting not too far from your pinky finger, so you pick it up. “And...?”
“My mother tells me that the reason why the peach trees here still continue to bloom,” He sighs, before a smile graces his lips, “It's because of love.”
The buds in your lap, as if listening to Xiangli Yao's words, slowly bloom in your touch. In awe, you continue to touch the blossoming buds, the tacet mark in your hand slightly glowing, “My mother believes that the resonator who can make the flowers bloom is a 'spring thief'.”
All of the buds in your lap have fully bloomed. Yet, the tiniest one in your hand hasn't. You triy to touch it, in every angle, but still, it hasn't. You look up to see Xiangli Yao's tacet mark in his robotic arm glow. The words are clear to you.
“The harbinger of summer. But they should also be driven with the same motivation for it to happen.”
Purple eyes find yours when he turns on his back. Walking toward you, Xiangli Yao kneels in front of you, reaching out for the one in your hand.
“The 'Spring Thief' has to be in love, too.”
With your combined touch, the tiniest bud blooms, with the sweetest smell and being the prettiest among them all. And Xiangli Yao, like that night, looks at you—fondly, softly, and only you.
Have you ever looked at Xiangli Yao this way? Have you ever noticed how pretty he was, drenched in the golden hour glow, the flurry of blossoms dancing outside? The sun's rays mimic a tacet cord, haloing over his head, capturing his face like an angel. Perhaps he is an angel, having spent his mortal days walking on Earth. And his words, honey and true, have long been clear to you.
“I-” The words choke you, but still you can't look away.
“I'm not asking for your immediate answer, [Y/N].” He brightly muses, “In any case, I'm sure that summer is coming.”
Taking your hand in his, bringing it to his sweet lips, he whispers, “The 'Spring Thief' has come to bring summer once more.”
Peach Blossoms have the sweetest bloom this season.
I'm down bad for this man, I love him
COME HOME OKAY??? I LOVE YOU XIANGLI YAO
p.s. I had a dream of my potential crush so this scenery was the inspo
— starry
#wuthering waves#wuthering waves xiangli yao#xiangli yao#wuwa#wuthering waves x reader#xiangli yao x reader#wuthering waves x gn reader#wuwa x reader#Spotify
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