#i really try to just let people enjoy things but fuck

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for Nina

Request: streamer!Reader has a game going and their monster bf (dealer's choice!) comes in without paying attention/doesn't care/etc. solely to pay you back for some teasing earlier that morning?

A/N: Couldn’t hold myself back from the joke that there’s a troll under the… desk. Lol. Enjoy!

Under the desk

Troll x fem!reader || oral sex, teasing, edging, orgasm denial (lowkey)

You feel a hot caress against the outside of your leg and you jerk up, kicking your feet and covering your mouth so your chuckle is not heard over the mic. You look down to see your boyfriend there, kneeling under the desk and looking as cute and adorable as ever. You arch an eyebrow at him, happy that your camera is turned off right now because you don’t want people noticing something is happening.

He puts a finger over his lips, a clear sign that he wants you to be quiet. He takes his phone out of his pocket and sends you a quick text. It reads “don’t make a sound, I think it’s time for you to pay”. You look down at him, excusing yourself on the mic for a second.

“Excuse me for a second, I need to let my cat out of the room,” you lie. There’s a flood of messages on your chat, many people asking for you to show the cat, some others telling you it’s okay… But you are already looking at your boyfriend under the desk. “Pay for what? I didn’t do anything to you!” You try not to sound too offended, but you fail. You are offended.

“First: you kicked me two seconds ago,” he tells you, his mouth frowning on a cute blueish pout.

You chuckle caressing the side of his face. “Aww, poor troll, did your human girlfriend hurt you?” You use your most condescending and teasing tone, laughing harder when he growls.

“That’s a second offense there, girlfriend.” His tone is borderline dark, and you have to press your thighs together to avoid whimpering. Fuck, he knows exactly what that tone does to you.

“You didn’t explain what I did!” You tell him when he grabs both of your ankles, parting your legs slowly.

He stops, looking up at you with a smirk and dark eyes. “You walked around the house with those tiny shorts tempting me as I was at a meeting, now is my turn to tease you.”

You are shocked by his words, what does he mean? He gifted you those shorts! “What? I was wearing your gift!” You know he’s not buying your lie, a green eyebrow arched as he smirks. You did put on those shorts on to tease him as he was in a video-call with his boss. And you might have moved your ass a bit more than necessary in front of him as you passed. Guess you aren’t as subtle as you thought.

“Turn on the mic, and don’t let your followers know what is happening under the desk. If you are good I’ll even let you come…” You shiver at his promise, knowing fully well what he’s capable off. He’d played with you countless times, and some of those, when you had been particularly bratty, he’d edged you until you were crying. (You loved when that happened.)

“But I…” You try to argue again, not really putting any effort behind it. Your pussy is already wet just thinking about him playing with you under the desk as nobody notices. It scratches a part of your exhibitionism kink you didn’t know you had.

He grunts: “Now, darling.” And your whole body melts, your legs parting as you comply.

You turn the mic on and start talking about some stupid thing that happened when you went shopping a couple days ago, a naga almost running you over with a shopping cart. There’s laughter on your chat as you sort out the different things you need for your trip to the mine in the game.

He caresses your legs, softly inhaling against your skin and kissing every inch of skin he can, getting closer and closer to your center as you try not to sound breathless over the mic. People seem obvious to what’s happening under your desk, and you can feel your pulse accelerating by the idea of somebody realizing. You don’t want that… but the thought of it makes you want to moan.

His rough tongue hits your pussy suddenly, and you have to bite your lip hard not to let out a sound. Your character in the game moves to the side and the chat asks what’s happening. You let out a giggle, telling them you accidentally pinched your side with the chair and you can feel the huff of silent laughter against your most sensitive skin as your troll boyfriend laughs. The fucker…

He starts slow as you keep playing, talking about non-sense and trying to keep using your cheerful tone. His tongue feels divine against your hole, you can feel the gush of juices running down your pussy just to be caught by his dexterous tongue. You have to bite your lip a couple times to avoid letting out a loud moan.

Every time you stop talking, he stops his ministrations, and you have to hold back a whimper and a plea. You try to remain focused, but you know you are fucking it up, some low level monsters almost killing you as you fumble with the mouse to change from your pickaxe to your sword.

You move your hips against his face, trying to rub your clit with his nose and he nips at your labia, making you jump a little. A warning. You can’t take as much as you want, he’s the one in control… The reminder only makes you want to do it again, but he uses one of his hands to anchor you to the chair.

He pushes two big fingers inside of you, stretching you as he finger-fucks your welcoming pussy. You are praying to whoever is listening that the lewd sounds of your wet pussy aren’t being caught by your mic, but at that point you aren’t sure you even care.

You try to remain cheerful, but with each movement of his fingers in and out of you, you can feel your climax getting closer and closer, his rough tongue feels amazing against your clit and you are seconds away from coming.

He pinches the outside of your thigh, pushing you away from your impeding climax, and making you let out a low whine that has your face turning as red as a tomato as he stops his movements, looking up at you and someone in the chat lets out a thousand questions about what’s happening.

That happens at least ten more times. You don’t know how much time passes, you only know the feel of his tongue against your pussy and his fingers rubbing against your G-spot. With each second, you are more incoherent, and your movements are more sharp. Your brain is jelly as you keep talking, making every single noob mistake you can as he edges you, denying your orgasm every time you feel it coming.

You are desperate and trembling, your brain disconnected when you decide enough was enough. “Fuck,” you mumble, and then louder you say: “Sorry guys, an emergency came up, see you tomorrow!” You rush out as you close all windows on your computer and let out the longest and most lewd sound ever.

Your troll looks up at you with amusement in his eyes, his fingers curling inside of you as he rubs your G-spot over and over. Your eyes roll back into your head and you push your legs over his shoulders, grabbing his hair and pushing his head harder against your needy pussy.

“Please, please, please… I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll be good. Let me come, please!” You know your words mean nothing, but when he pulls back a fraction just to say: “Come for me,” you are done.

Your hips rock against his face, and the second his tongue makes contact with your clit, you are coming all over his face, gushing juices all over and screaming at the top of your lungs. The orgasms with him are always incredible, but after all the teasing and edging, that one is earth-shattering.

He chuckles when you come down from your high, probably looking pathetic and sweaty. “I know you lied, darling, I know you won’t be good for me.” He cleans some of the mess you made with his hand, taking licking your juices off it as you pant.

“But you love when I’m bratty,” you let out in a whisper. You feel boneless, your whole body spent as he pushes back your chair and stands up between your legs. His hips are at face level now, and you are already salivating thinking about the possibilities.

“Yeah… I really do. Now… What are you going to do about this,” he points down at his very hard and very angry-looking blueish dick.

You smirk up at him, not getting up from the chair as you open your mouth and look at him from under your lashes. He smirks, grabbing your head with his big hand and feeding you his cock.

Yeah, you’d definitely would do it again if this is the punishment you get.

[frarxvr]

Just a Fan –

Part Two

The world around her blurred. The noise of the bustling Monaco streets faded. All Y/N could hear was the rapid thumping of her own heartbeat as she stared at the signature on her hat.

But it wasn’t just a signature.

It was a number.

His number.

Her fingers tightened around the brim of the hat as she blinked rapidly, trying to process what just happened. Did Charles Leclerc just casually slip her his phone number? Was this some kind of joke? A mistake?

No. He had paused, thought about it, and then written it down.

The air felt thick around her as she looked up again, just in time to see his Ferrari disappear down the street. The memory of his wink replayed in her mind, and her stomach flipped.

Holy. Shit.

Did he really just—?

Why would he—?

Was she supposed to text him? Was this some kind of joke?

Should she call him? Text him? Would that be weird?

She had no idea how to navigate this situation.

Was she supposed to act like it didn’t happen? Pretend she didn’t see the number and just keep the hat as a cool memory?

But what if he was waiting for her to reach out?

Her phone was in her pocket, burning a hole through the fabric.

She hesitated before pulling it out, staring at the screen.

The number on her hat was just sitting there, silently daring her to use it.

She bit her lip.

she locked her phone and slipped it back into her pocket, exhaling slowly as she looked around. The last thing she needed was to overthink this.

It was probably nothing, she told herself. Maybe he was just being nice. Maybe he gave out his number to fans sometimes. Maybe it didn’t mean anything at all.

And yet, the number was still there

Right now, she just wanted to enjoy Monaco.

The warm breeze swept through the streets as she walked, the sun casting golden hues over the city. The sound of waves gently crashing against the harbor mixed with the quiet hum of cars passing by. It was the kind of day that made everything feel light, easy.

She wandered through the winding streets, stopping occasionally to admire the architecture or peek into small boutiques. She wasn’t looking for anything in particular—just letting herself get lost in the city.

When she reached the marina, she paused, watching as yachts swayed gently in the water. It was peaceful, the kind of moment that made her forget everything else.

No Charles. No number. No overthinking.

Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she muttered, "Fuck it," under her breath and typed out a message.

Y/N: "I hope this was meant to be here and I’m not texting a stranger by mistake."

She stared at the screen for a second. Then two.

"I was wondering when you’d text."Charles send it

Y/N: "It took me a while, but here I am."

Unknown Number: "I was starting to think you weren’t going to reply."

She bit her lip, her fingers tapping against the screen.

Y/N: "I almost didn’t."

Another buzz.

Unknown Number: "Why?"

She hesitated, staring at the message.

What was she supposed to say? That she thought this was a joke? That she didn’t know why he of all people had given her his number? That she wasn’t sure she wanted to get caught up in something that would only ever be a fantasy?

Instead, she kept it simple.

Y/N: "Didn’t think you’d notice if I did or didn’t."

His reply came almost immediately.

Unknown Number: "I wouldn’t have given you my number if I didn’t want you to text me"

Her breath hitched.

Charles: "So, are you going to keep calling me ‘Unknown Number’ and I will call you What because I don't know your name or should I tell you my name just in case you forgot?"

A small smile tugged at her lips.

Y/N: " my name is y/n and I think I’ve heard of you before. Something about a guy who drives really fast who give a girl in street his number?"

Charles: "That does sound like me."

She exhaled, leaning back against the bench as she stared at the screen.

What the hell was she getting herself into?

[ratsplendor]

so this post was on my dash last night and i woke up still thinking about it. bc i really do feel like we get a lot of internalized homophobia!Wilson, due to the very comphet of it all, but i think there's some really interesting angles you can play with from this perspective, too. & of course end up with some major angst lol.

so. i kind of ended up going on a long ass ramble here. i've stuck it under a readmore for those who're just scrolling. thanks for putting up with me lol

the main thing i'm thinking about is like...the huge, Stacy-left-me-shaped chip on his shoulder. because how many straight guys do you know who have made their breakup this massive personality trait/let it take the blame for their behavior for years afterwards? i know so many! "wife left me, i joined the NRA" type shit.

in this situation you're describing, i think the breakup is a huge part of how this plays out. because: 1. any feelings he has for men after that are just because she fucked him up so bad. and 2. yes, he's upset she left, why wouldn't he be? he certainly wasn't relieved, secretly, that she pulled the trigger, that she gave him an excuse to push her away. he certainly wasn't tired of pretending, especially given his new condition, which makes it harder to mask. that would be crazy.

so he latches on to this post-breakup, miss-her-but-resent-her pattern of behavior because it's an easy cover for whatever else he's feeling, on two separate fronts. and then she comes back. he finds out Wilson is trying to keep them apart and for a split second, he hopes it's because Wilson's jealous, and he hates that he feels that so much that he throws himself back into manic Stacy-mode again, to the point of being party to her marriage nearly breaking up. a guy who breaks up his ex's marriage is definitely straight! right??

i think a lot of the time we get House being portrayed as the one who's settled with himself because he has this air of hedonism about him, and he enjoys being the contrarian/making people uncomfortable, and doesn't appear to care what other people think. but of course, we see that's especially untrue where his father is concerned. in a world where nothing was off limits to House, we'd expect to see him weaponizing the abuse as part of the way he makes people uncomfortable, right? instead, he's so quiet about it that even Wilson doesn't know well enough to not make him go to the funeral. it's a product of a time when certain things belonged behind closed doors. so there are some things that are off limits to House. joking about being gay is one thing, it gets a rise out of people, but he doesn't allow himself the real thing because 1. he's not gay and 2. it's so bound up in the complexity of the first few decades of his life. which he doesn't talk about, not even to make people squirm. most young people start to contend with their sexuality while still living at home...on base housing, where it felt like there were eyes everywhere, and with a father like John House. then, like you said, came the AIDS crisis, and how many tirades do you think John probably went off on? with his son, the doctor, on the phone with him? the voice that told him how to be a man is asking if he's really gonna treat those fags or not. what do you do?

i'll end this by saying, as a kid who grew up with base brats of several types, i've always found it really interesting + sorely underexplored that House is referred to so often just by surname. i know it's a thing among medical folk, too, but undoubtedly, when his father's buddies came around, they were calling him House. hell, i knew kids whose mothers called their fathers by surname. i've always found this interesting because if House didn't choose it, if it's something that just happened organically during med school, did it hurt at first? and if he did choose it, in this case, would it be because it felt like being a man? his father, the model he had for "real" masculinity growing up--would taking up his name in his early adulthood feel like a shortcut to a male ideal that he was so desperately struggling to align with?

thinking about internalised homophobia House. I normally headcanon him as openly bi (but maybe repressed or in denial about being in love with Wilson), but I like the idea of his suggestive gay comments being a cover because he's so far in denial and gay jokes are a way of being like "haha isn't it so ridiculous and subversive to suggest I'm gay? I'm doing this for the shock value because I'm obviously straight", in the same way straight guys think gay jokes are the funniest thing in the world

his homophobic military dad and becoming independent and coming of age in the 1980s and only hearing about gay people during the AIDS crisis left him with some fucked up ideas and attitudes about gay people (and himself. and what it means to be a man)

if Wilson ever tries to confess feelings for House (or if they fall into each other on a drunken night), House would absolutely withdraw, run away, push Wilson away because House isn't gay

House then dating a woman to prove to Wilson (and everyone. and himself) that he's normal and straight

eventually, if he and Wilson start seeing each other, House would rationalise it as "technically homosexual, but not like those other gays". maybe he'd also withdraw in public where anyone could see them, and try to suppress the emotional side of things ("this is just physical, don't be a fag about it")

meanwhile, Wilson is desperately trying to be okay with the scraps of affection he gets from House, but it's killing him. he's not doing well. after pining over House for so long (knowingly? unknowingly? you decide), he didn't think it would feel like this. but maybe this is the best he deserves

[vandme12]

I barely see Ronin as a mechanic! Headcanons/Oneshots!

This was in my drafts for days..

You're not exactly sure how it happened. One minute, you’re flopped on Ronin's couch, droning on about how bored you are—how you could die of it, actually, right here, right now. The next, he's dragging you out to the garage like a wolf with a chew toy, all sharp teeth and brighter eyes, muttering something about “if you’re gonna whine, might as well make yourself useful.”

Useful, apparently, means learning how to fix cars. Because that’s what he does when he’s not busy tearing people apart. A little hands-on therapy. Take something broken, make it purr again. You guess it fits—devils need hobbies, too.

“I still think you should just let me die of boredom,” you grumble, arms folded as you watch him prop the hood open. It groans like a corpse stretching in its grave, metal rasping against metal.

Ronin snorts. "Dramatic much? C'mon, darlin', ain't gonna kill ya to learn how an engine works. Might even save your pretty ass one day."

You give him a look that could peel paint. "Or you could just fix it for me. That's what boyfriends are for."

That earns you a low, wicked laugh. The kind that slides under your skin and stays there. "Oh, sweet thing, you're in for it now. Open up those pretty hands—time to get 'em dirty."

He hands you a wrench, and you hold it like it's a foreign object. Ronin leans over the engine block, sleeves shoved up to his elbows, revealing forearms streaked in grease and little healing scrapes. He’s beautiful in the most ridiculous way: all messy burgundy hair, shark-teeth grin, and a nicotine burn low on his wrist. A devil working the bones of a machine.

And, lucky you—you get to be his little apprentice.

“So, what are we doing?” you ask, mostly to fill the silence. Ronin's in his element, already half-lost to the work. Fingers curling around bolts like he could coax the car to life with touch alone.

“Changing the spark plugs,” he says. Then, when you give him your best bewildered expression, he chuckles. “They help make the magic happen, baby. No spark, no fire, no joyride. Same as people, really.”

“Poetic,” you deadpan. “So, where do I start?”

Ronin tilts his head toward the engine. "Get in here, darlin. I ain't gonna hold your hand the whole way."

That is a lie, by the way. He absolutely will.

You squeeze next to him, shoulder brushing his. The garage smells like old oil, sweat, and something sweetly metallic underneath—not quite blood, but close enough that your stomach flips. His heat soaks into your skin when he leans in, hands guiding yours over the metal innards.

He explains things in that lazy drawl of his, a little smug every time you mess up. And you mess up a lot. Your fingers slip, your grip's too weak, you curse when you almost drop a spark plug into the engine. Ronin just watches, like he's enjoying the spectacle of you struggling.

“Y’know,” he murmurs, breath warm against your neck, “you’re real cute when you’re useless.”

“Fuck you,” you snap back, except it comes out a little too breathy. Which, of course, he catches. His smile goes sharp enough to cut.

"Careful, darlin'. Keep talkin' like that, I might start thinkin' you like it when I'm mean."

Your hands falter, and you feel his gaze crawl over you. Heavy, hot. You don't answer, because what would you even say? He's not wrong.

“Alright,” he says, voice softer but no less dangerous. “Tighten that one, yeah? Let’s see if you can follow basic fuckin' instructions.”

You try. You really do. But the angle's weird, and your fingers keep slipping, and why the hell is everything in a car so awkward? Your knee bumps against the wheel well when you lean in deeper, and suddenly you're halfway sprawled over the engine like a sacrificial offering.

Perfect. Exactly what Ronin wanted.

He catches you before you can slide further, one grease-slick hand curling around your waist. His other hand plucks the wrench from your grip with infuriating ease.

“Clumsy thing,” he drawls. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“You could start by letting me go,” you say, but you don’t mean it. Not even a little. And Ronin’s the last person alive to fall for your lies.

His fingers press harder against your waist. "Nah," he says, low and rough, “I like you right where you are.”

He kisses you before you can fire back. Messy, claiming, dragging the breath from your lungs. His teeth catch your lower lip and tug, pulling a noise from your throat you weren’t planning to make. The taste of him is familiar—smoke and something darker beneath it, something that’s always felt a little like danger. Like sin in the shape of a man.

When he pulls back, you’re half-dizzy. Your hands are still braced against the edge of the car, and you can feel how tightly he’s holding you, like you might slip away if he isn’t careful.

“See?” he purrs. “Told ya fixin' cars could be fun.”

“I hate you,” you mutter, but you press closer anyway.

He grins, blood-red and wicked. "Nah. You love me. Now, quit slacking and hand me that wrench, sweetheart. We got work to do."

Head canons!

"Bored, darling?" If you so much as hint that you’ve got nothing to do, Ronin’s dragging you to the garage. He’s already got his coveralls half-unzipped, grease smeared across his jaw like a smudged halo—saint of the scrapyard, king of the underworld. He’ll plop you in front of some busted hunk of metal and call it a “bonding experience.” (Translation: watching you struggle is his favorite form of entertainment.)

Zero discounts, actually. If anything, Ronin charges you extra. Call it the “boyfriend tax.” He’ll fix your ride, sure—but only after making you bribe him with a kiss (or several). You’re not getting off easy. If you try to sweet-talk your way to a lower price? He just leans in, smirks against your ear, and murmurs, “Ya know, darling, I could break it worse if you wanted somethin’ new. Keep me busy.”

His garage is your second home. He doesn’t just let anyone hang around while he works—this is sacred ground, baby. But you? You get to sit on the workbench, legs swinging while he’s half-buried under an engine. He’ll toss you snacks from his stash (suspiciously all junk food) and occasionally drag you over just to “hold something.” (Spoiler: he just wants you close.)

Oh, sweetheart, you thought you were getting a discount? Cute. Ronin charges extra for you—calls it the “Tax.” Every time you ask, he tuts like you're breaking his poor, mechanical heart. But let your car actually break down? Suddenly, it’s "Nah, baby, I got this." He’ll fix it before you even notice, no charge—he just likes making you owe him. (And oh, you owe him plenty.) "Ain’t about the money, darlin’. It’s about makin’ sure you need me. And you do, don’tcha?"

Every. Single. Time. You visit the garage, he’s sweaty, just to make sure you suffer. Bonus points if you’re there in the summer—he’ll stretch, flex, and wink while holding a wrench like he’s posing for a calendar shoot. Loves to call you his “little assistant”—but gives you the most pointless tasks. "Hold this bolt. No, not like that. With love, babe. Jeez, where’s your passion?" If you complain? You’re getting pinned against the nearest surface with grease-smudged fingers trailing down your jaw. "Maybe if you were good, I’d give ya the easy jobs. But nah, you like it rough, don’tcha?"

He makes you “help” with repairs. Even though you suck. But he’s patient—weirdly patient for someone with blood on his hands. He’ll guide your fingers over the engine, teach you the difference between spark plugs and fuel injectors like it’s the most romantic thing in the world. And if you mess up? He just laughs, leans over you, and drawls, “Cute try, baby. Maybe leave the hard stuff to me.”

Car rides are a whole other game. After fixing your vehicle, he insists on a “test drive” with you in the passenger seat. He drives one-handed, the other resting heavy on your thigh—like he’s claiming both the road and you. “Gotta make sure it’s runnin’ smooth,” he says, voice thick with innuendo.

Grease-streaked kisses. You always leave his garage marked—fingers on your waist, motor oil smudged along your neck from when he drags you close. And if you complain? He just grins. “Looks better on ya than it does on me, darling.”

Your vehicle has an unofficial VIP pass. No matter how busy he is, if it’s your car in trouble, everything else can wait. Doesn’t matter if it’s a busted tire or the whole engine blowing out—he’ll fix it, grinning like he lives for the chaos you bring. Just don’t expect him to let you off easy: “You keep breakin’ shit, sweetheart, I’m gonna start thinkin’ you just wanna see me sweaty.”

His garage playlist is insane. Half industrial metal, half bluesy rock—loud enough to shake the walls. You pretend to hate it, but there’s something weirdly attractive about watching Ronin, sleeves rolled up, half-cursing along to the music while elbow-deep in some Frankenstein engine. (And if you’re lucky? He’ll pull you into a grease-streaked dance right there on the oil-stained floor.)

[crownmemes]

Criminal Sentences, Vol. 25

(Sentences from various sources for criminals and/or dangerous muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"I want to liberate your truest self: the beast that prowls around your heart."

"A wise man would walk away from this house and make a concerted effort to forget everything that occurred last night."

"We had an arrangement. You don't come here."

"Don't play games. I'm not in the mood."

"I'm not so easy to kill."

"I really want to apologise for, you know, the massive crime I've committed."

"The thing is, what you're asking, it isn't easy - and it sure isn't free."

"Are you worried I'm going to shoot him or something?"

"The next time you come in here without my permission, you and me are going to have a problem."

"Listen, I have just left a very enjoyable evening with some old friends to come and murder a hired contract killer for you, so let's tone down the judgement a tad, shall we?"

"I think if you wanted to kill me, you'd have done it already."

"Everyone has their weaknesses. Don't mind me as I find yours."

"You should know that I've had eyes on you recently, so I know everything."

"I've always been preternaturally inclined to violence. I was exposed to it from an early age."

"What were you trying to prove by doing this? Just showing me that you're good at sneaking into places you're not wanted? I already knew that!"

"I've tasted success, and it's a meal I now wish to devour."

"Holy christ, you're a morbid fuck!"

"I'll be sure to call next time I need someone threatened."

"You have no sense of the terrors I will bring onto you."

"You don't even know what you're dealing with, do you?"

"Some of us get harder as we get older, and some of us get soft."

"Who the hell are you to order me around?"

"You're not going to survive coming after me."

"People like you and me, we don't get to ride off into the sunset - but we get to stay around and watch the stars come out, and that's not nothing, I suppose."

"We don't have to trust each other, we don't even have to like each other, but we have to work together on this."

"You should be more afraid of me."

"Death excites you, doesn't it?"

"Do you have to enjoy my discomfort quite so much?"

"Because I murder with will and not like a blind animal, you think me a monster. Yet, how many corpse have you left in your wake?"

"If you want my help, you'll do as I ask."

"Do not fool yourself; you cannot lie to me."

"You're a very suspicious person."

"Do you still have that rocket launcher?"

"Do you carry a knife everywhere now?"

"You offer me a normal life. Why do you think I want that anymore?"

"Why are you consulting with that traitor?"

"That's really not the legal loophole you think it is."

"I just realised what you're most afraid of."

[enhanextdoor]

𓂃۶ৎ 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐓 ━━━ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗍.

西村 力 (n.rk). ─────⠀ㅤ 3,002 (in total) ―୨୧⋆ ˚ 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𓈒 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. ⠀

부인 성명 (disclaimer) : read at your own risk. there is going to be fluff and angst themes. NOT PROOFREAD

taglist: @choisanswife. @leehsngs. @myjjongie

moving away from home was one of the hardest things for you to do. it was what you had known your entire life, but college was an exciting new time. you thought it would be a fresh start, you would be able to make new friends and not be held back by some of the rumors and different issues that living in a small town held. you wanted to experience the world and maybe you were a little naive, but you thought the world would be good for you. welcome weekend was what really fucked you over. everyone was asked to go around and share a fact about themselves on the auditorium stage and as you were walking up your shirt caught on the stairway and ripped. you were so embarrassed you cried, people recorded and this quickly spread around campus. you were labeled the “cry baby” of campus. so much for getting a fresh start right? nope! 

it had been three weeks since the semester started and honestly you tried to avoid the stares and laughs, you figured that the other students would eventually move on from your little mishap but in the age of smartphones no way. you even became a bit of a campus meme, the worst group of them all had to be the dance team. the first person to post the video to social media? none other than jake. he didn’t think it would get as big as it did and well it even got him a little more credibility on campus. you just wanted to keep your head down and the library was one of the best places to do that, you had been practically living in your dorm and in the library. you were enjoying the silence. enter nishimura riki, the it-boy of the freshman clas, he casually made his way over to you and pulled a book from the shelf next to where you were standing. 

he was the newest member of the dance crew and all everyone had been talking about. ‘jungwon made such a good choice as captain letting him on the team.’ ‘we are so qualifying this year’ ‘he’s just so dreamy’ those are just some of the things you’ve heard. your gaze shifted to him only for a second before you grabbed the book you needed and started to head back towards the table you had claimed. “y/n.. that’s your name right?” ni-ki spoke up. you stopped to look at him and arched an eyebrow slightly, nodding your head. “yeah, that would be me.” you prepared yourself to get the cry baby comment or some kind of joke, but he walked over and examined your book. “oh this is actually the one i need too. think we could sit together and look it over?” he set the book in his hand on empty carts at the side of the column.

you were a bit shocked that he would be wanting to do an optional reading for class, the professor made sure to emphasize that this reading wasn’t required but could help students get a better grasp on the concepts. “sure?” you sounded a little hesitant because you were. maybe ni-ki wasn’t a bad guy and truthfully needed the book for class just like you. the pair of you walked over to the table and you opened it up to the page that you needed. “you need this for intro to society too right?” you questioned to see if he was taking the same basic sociology class you were. “yup and look at that you’ve got the page right and everything.” he flashed a smile. 

the pair of you read the book only speaking to indicate when it was okay to turn the page. it was nice, having an interaction with someone that wasn’t just trying to make fun of you. after two hours of powering through the book you both reached the end and you closed the book. “well that was nice.” he stated as he leaned back in his chair a little. “yeah, it was nice.” you admitted before tapping your fingers on the table a little bit of anxiety building in your stomach. “you know you are pretty cool y/n. we should go out sometime.” 

his words sent a little bit of panic through you mainly because you knew that talking with him could impact his social status on campus or bring on more taunting. then you were fighting with the implication, is he asking you in a friendly way or in a date kind of way? you sat there for a second. “did i break you y/n? shit that was so not what i was trying to do.” he was sat forward now examining your face. “no, no, i heard you and am not broken.” you replied and glanced back to him. “just don’t think it would be a good idea for us to go out.” you stood up to go return the book from where you found it. he stood and followed you right over to the shelf. “oh come on y/n, afraid that people will tease me too? i really don’t care about any of that. you are cool and we shared a book doesn’t that mean anything to you?” he was talking in a bit more of a teasing tone at the end. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully because that was cheesy. “okay then we can go out.” you shouldn’t cave so easily but honestly you are just a girl. “great it’s a date then.” he winked.

you two had exchanged numbers before you left the library and set a plan of when you were going out. everything about this made you nervous but excited. was this really happening? the coolest guy in the freshman class wanted to take you out on a date? it seemed too good to be true. you spent hours getting ready for this date and the pair of you went out. the date was a simple move theater then dinner date. you two had a great time, the conversation at dinner flowed so naturally. he had you laughing, you made him laugh in return. it was nice being out with someone that didn’t just see you as a joke. he walked you back to your dorm and before he left you two kissed. you felt the butterflies in your stomach and the whole nine yards. 

two months passed and several more dates occurred within those months. you never saw this coming, but there you were on the quad with ni-ki laid out under you and your head rested on his stomach as you laid down as well reading your book. the two of you were all the campus could talk about. “we are throwing this party tonight to celebrate winning our latest comp.” he said which pulled you from your book, “oh yeah? well i would love to come with you if that is what you are asking.” you looked up to him with a warm smile. a smile that ni-ki had grown so accustomed to. he had fallen for you and if only you knew everything he knew that you probably wouldn’t feel the same anymore. he sat up which had you sitting up as well and he admired you with a smile of his own, “you make me so happy y/n. you know that right?” you weren’t sure where this was coming from but you leaned in to give his lips a little peck. “yeah, yeah nishimura. i have a class to get to.” you stood and then leaned down to give him another peck on the lips. “see you later?” you asked but didn’t wait for an answer before walking backwards to start heading away from you. “yeah.” he waved you off and went back to laying down to look at the sky. 

he wasn’t sure how he was going to tell you the truth, all of this started with a bet. he was hanging out with all the guys and jake showed everyone the video. they all laughed about it, ni-ki included. “you want to prove yourself to be one of us?” jay said while leaning his arms on his knees and the rest of the guys started to pick up what was about to go down. “get cry baby to go out with you.” he continued and everyone else was laughing. “oh my god that would be so funny actually. you should so do it.” sunghoon chimed in. ni-ki wanting to be accepted by these older much cooler guys agreed. “i could totally get her to go out with me, easy. i’ll do you one better i’ll get her to actually fall in love with me too.” god how he regretted that day now, he felt like he was walking on eggshells. it was only a matter of time before someone slipped and told you and he didn’t want to lose you. while he was trying to get you to fall in love with him he did something that would ruin everything, he fell for you. 

later that night after all your classes and getting ready for what felt like forever you headed to the frat where the party was being hosted. you went inside and started looking around for ni-ki but instead found jay and jake by the drinks table. jake was a little loaded and that made him a little louder than normal. “Y/N! YOU’RE HERE!” he was basically shouting and leaning on jay for the support. “hey jake.. you doing okay there buddy?” you gave a pointed look and jay made a little face while shaking his head to indicate that this boy was long gone. you had gotten to know the rest of the guys and much to their surprise they liked you. the guilt of the bet weighed on all of them too, but they tried to ignore the elephant in the room. heeseung came walking over to see the drunk jake and jay supporting him. “need some help with that one?” he pointed to jake literally just hanging off jay. “you know it we should get him some water.” jay replied and you spoke up. “let me go get him some. you two just make sure he stays upright.” 

you pushed through to the kitchen and came back with bottled water. they had gotten jake seated on a couch. “oh have you guys seen ni-ki?” you questioned. they all shook their heads and jake decided to speak up. “naurr but i am so glad you two are dating. i mean to think this all started because jay thought you were some looooser and bet ni-ki that he couldn’t get you to date him. oh! and im sorry for posting that video of you.” he was pouting and batting his eyes. “don’t hate me.” jay and heeseung’s faces both looked so shocked and heeseung literally put his hand over jake’s mouth. your mouth fell open a little as you tried to process everything that was just said. ‘some loser’ ‘a bet’ those words burned and you felt like your heart was shattering right there. “i should go.” you forced a little smile and handed the water over to jay, backing away from them. “y/n wait..” jay spoke up but you had already turned and started to rush towards the exit. 

you thought that things were different with ni-ki, that he was one of the only people that actually gave you a chance. he made you feel safe and loved, he was someone you could just talk to for hours. was all of this just some silly little game to him? was your heart just something he could toy with? as you were walking out of the party, ni-ki was on his way in. his eyes caught a glimpse of you and he went to take your hand, “y/n where are you going?” you stayed right there your back to him, hand in his and using every ounce of strength you had to keep your tears in. “was it worth it?” your voice sounded so broken and he was confused until his phone buzzed, he glazed over the text from heeseung explaining what just happened. he shoved his phone right back into his pocket and he moved to stand in front of you, his hand still holding yours.  “y/n, baby, i can explain.” 

him moving to be in front of you wasn’t helping because now glancing up at him the tears just started to cascade down your cheeks. “explain? explain what? that you made a bet that you could date me? guess what riki, you fucking did that didn’t you? i bet you are so proud of yourself. god just leave me alone. i never want to see you again.” you shoved his hand away from yours and walked off leaving behind the boy you fell in love with and any shred of hope that people were still good. 

it had been three days since the party and your phone had been blowing up with messages from all of the guys. ni-ki had messaged the first day just a few times asking if the two of you could talk, but when you ignored him for the fifth time he got the hint. he was a mess too and you knew it only because the rest of the guys were messaging you over and over saying that this was their fault not ni-ki’s. that wasn’t helping any considering he could have said no. you had skipped your classes the last two days which is not like you in the slightest, but professors had to understand you just had your heart ripped out so that’s basically a medical emergency right? maybe this would have been easier if you had made some actual friends on campus, but the friends you made were the boys and obviously didn’t trust any of them right now either. 

you did the one thing you could think to do, packed up a bag and took the first flight home. you needed to get away from campus and have a slight reset. home was going to give that to you, there was no ni-ki there, none of the guys to come knock on your door, just you and your family. after the third day home you were starting to feel a little better. the feelings of betrayal were still very much there and you played a card game and when you won your instinct was to text ni-ki to let him know, but you couldn’t exactly do that. a big part of you missed what you had with him. you just had to remind yourself that it was probably all just fake. 

there was a knock on the door and your mom went to get it, you were on the couch reading to get caught up on some of your classwork. “y/n, honey it’s for you.” your mom called out which confused you because you weren’t expecting anyone. you got up and made your way over to the door pausing when you saw none other than ni-ki standing there. your mom had walked away when you made it to the door and you stared at him, “what are you doing here? how did you even find my house?” you questioned in a hushed tone. “well i remember you talking about it when we went on our first date. you said that you lived in the old house with the handprints in the sidewalk and named the street so.. i just walked down the street until i found the handprints.” you stepped outside and closed the door behind yourself, crossing your arms over your stomach. he remembered that? most people wouldn’t care to remember a detail like that. you needed to push that delusion from your head, he doesn’t care. or does he?

“i tried to give you your space, i really did and honestly sunoo told me flying here was a terrible idea, but it’s been almost a week and i am losing my mind y/n. none of it was fake.. nothing i said or did with you was fake. i know it started with not the best intentions and honestly i should have told you the minute i fell for you, but i didn’t want to lose you because i’m an idiot that took a bet.” he was rambling just a little and you were focused on the fact that he said he fell for you and it was real. everything he said and did with you was real. “you mean it?” you spoke finally which cut him off from going to say something else. “of course i mean it. i am so in love with you y/n that i literally hopped on a flight to go to some town i’ve never been to to walk up and down a street in hopes of finding the girl of my dreams.” 

you were hesitating on forgiving him because you weren’t completely sure if he was telling the truth, but your heart was screaming to forgive him because to be honest you are in love with him too. every little moment you two shared, every kiss, all the late night talks, the times you shared books, it was all just so comforting. “if you ever break my heart again nishimura riki i swear i won’t let you back in.” you moved in a little and he did as well. “i swear on everything in this world i won’t break your heart again.” the two of you shared a soft and sweet kiss on the door step. his hands on your waist, yours finding the comfortable spot around his shoulders. when your lips parted he smiled at you and you felt that happiness creeping back in. “so uh.. when am i going to meet my future in-laws?” he smirked as you gave him a teasing glace. 

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed this fic. i would love if you commented thought/opinions, liked, or reblogged!

c. enhanextdoor ; do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[deservedgrace]

i try to be quiet about this and just let people enjoy things but holy shit i wish people weren't so evangelical about astrology. and part of what makes it so frustrating is that it's something i want to like and have put effort into trying to like it because it's honestly really interesting to me as a concept. i'm not the most knowledgeable about it, but i know more than a layperson knows about it.

i call it evangelical because i see so many parallels between the way some people interact with astrology and evangelical christianity. the big ones are, if it doesn't make sense or work out for you it's because of a flaw within yourself, never the system (you have to read the bible in this way, with this context, with this interpretation, you have to pray to god to open your heart, did you actually read with an open heart? -> you have to look at your rising sign, you have to check if you have any stelliums, you have to have an accurate birth time, are you sure it's accurate? have you actually seen your birth certificate?), overly identifying with things as an excuse not to take accountability or grow (i'm just a sinner & i'll always be a sinner -> i'm toxic bc i'm a gemini tee hee), and a refusal to accept that they might be wrong or that it might not work out for everybody (everybody outside the church is evil and led by satan -> "that's such a capricorn thing to do!" "i lied about my sign i'm a libra" "oh my god that's such a libra thing to do with your indecisiveness!").

and obviously, they're different levels of harm and impact how widespread it is within communities, which is partially why i try to just shut up about it. but fuckin hell, some of y'all make it really difficult lmao.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

im not exaggerating when i say ive been staring at your newest twitter art for the past twenty minutes. i feel ill Why can i hear them

the thigh size difference, the codpiece, charles drooling and Shaking that man is Gone, mags' smug smile and uh. his uhm . Hes HUGE..... charles How do you take that thing and live to tell the tale... and mags' lil speech bubble, what filth could he be sayin..... much to think about, i think i hauve covid, THEY LOOK SO GOOD, apologies to your bro's sneakers but i for one am very happy with this outcome :3 as always thank you so much for your service 🫡🫡

thank you for the review on my doodles today!!!!! i looked deep into my soul and let it do the rest......

[fiona-fififi]

God, the behavior when there's new Taylor Swift content is so fucking exhausting. Like, first of all, lyrics without context do not mean much. I maintain that for any artist. But also not every song has to be brilliant poetry and sometimes it's okay for lyrics to be a little silly or clunky. But regardless, I will never understand the desire of so many people who don't enjoy her work to try to bring down people who love it.

Because yes, sometimes songs don't hit the mark for everyone. And yes, not everything has to be perfect art.

But also, art is subjective and someone who finds meaning in lyrics that are not perfect poetry to you does not mean they should be made to feel lesser for finding poetry where you feel there is none.

[violentlydefending]

genuinely always so shocked to see mirei hate. like literally god forbid women do anything.

[punkcherries]

sonic prime so cool ............

[moe-broey]

Thank you transwomen (in general but also) for the term "boymode" bc using that terminology for myself as a transguy (so, "girlmode") has been the only way I've been able to aptly and succinctly describe whatever the hell was going on *vaguely gestering to my adolescence from ages 15 to 19* there.

[dreamsb0u]

rambling in tags