#maybe im just stupid but that's my feelings on it

[kittynugg]

EEEE THE YAPPER HAS RETURNED TYSM FOR MAKING SURE I SAW THIS!!!

i love that stan just DENIES the superstar badge. like "no im too dumb for this"

the pros and cons are well-balanced too, what with the burnt hat being difficult to obtain on purpose because its overpowered

also. the overalls are so fucking cute.

"You really gonna make me wear this? You're makin' me look like I live on a ranch." and if you confirm it stan's expression is like >:\ for a second and goes back to normal but if you pair it with the old cowboy boots he's like "Now we're talkin', I could get into a saloon like this!" and he spits into a spitoon in the corner of the pawn shop (SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOY FUCKING SENT ME HKUFHUKGHKU)

i also love the implication that you just wear the hat while its actively on fire. maybe its like any other video cosmetic with ford and he just casually wears it like that and nobody reacts but if you put it on stan he screams and swats at the hat until the fire's out and looks up like "HEY! WHEREVER YOU ARE! WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT FOR!?"

hey wait that is an eyeball in that mirror. you arent slick i saw that

there's gotta be a mission to draw/read comics after bed i feel like,, cause just an explanation for this i gave stan adhd in my head. so. there's gotta be stupid pointless missions you just HAVE to do sometimes like that and you can't really progress at times if you dont do them

like you try to interact with your backpack to go to school or whatever and its like "I can't do that, I need to hug Snowball!"/"Hold on, what's so important about hugging Snowball?"/"*sigh* Just do it, Stan." (thats him talking to himself)

Had a dream last night about a gravity falls game where you play as young Stanley having to sneak around and lie to stay out of trouble with Filbrick. It wasn't really a horror game but it had a lot of horror game-like mechanics and there was a general sense of discomfort the entire time.

The only quest I can remember is one where Stanley gets a bad report card while Stanford gets a good one. Filbrick is out doing business until tomorrow so you have until the morning to try and make it look like you got good grades. There's an option to use white out on Stanford's card while he sleeps and write your name instead.

You could also get future readings from mom, who would give hints on what will happen to you next so you can start setting up lies and stealing in advance instead of scrambling to cover yourself last minute. (If you could figure out what the readings were hinting at. They got progressively more vague as the game went on, going from "I hear" and "I see", to "I feel")

You didn't get to see what happened when Filbrick caught him, it just cut to a game over screen. You could be caught and sent to your room three times before this happens (which ends the quest you're on. Because you failed to lie well enough). There is no way to win. The game would just keep going with scenarios until you lost or gave up

There was a vending machine on the board walk that had warped reflections in the glass that corrected itself when you looked at it head-on

[anisangeldust]

Cupids Arrow | S.M.

Summary: After falling pathetically in love; Sam Monroe decides to give Valentine’s Day a chance.

Pairing: Sam Monroe x popular!Fem reader

Warnings: annoying Sam, use of “faggot” (in a playful way) and “gaybo” (derogatory), lwk self loathing, loser in love Sam, kinda a heavy make out sesh, semi public smut, dry humping, premature ejaculation ? Whimpering Sam, reader teases him and he gets off on it.

A/N: this is lwk self insert and I’m not ashamed abt it. Also I lwk hate it but wtv :( happy vday!!

“Naw bro, she’s fine as fuck” Josh nudges his friend as you walk past. You’d switched high schools and joined the previous semester. It’s as if you were an overnight success, fresh blood, pretty face, and rich parents, a recipe for being the top of the social ladder.

Even sad, mopey, emo Sam Monroe wasn’t immune to your charm

“Fuck off dude, she’d never go for you. You look and act like a faggot. She needs a strong man.” Josh’s friend flexes and raises his eyebrows up and down at you. You rolled your eyes playfully and continued walking to class.

With a scowl, Sam’s eyes followed the whole interaction. What of you did want him? Why did he care? Sam didn’t want you, or your preppy attitude, you fluffy hair that fell above your boobs, your low rise Abercrombie & Finch jeans that barely pass dress code— No. No. He didn’t care about or notice you. You or your big eyes and full lips— No.

And he especially didn’t notice you or the way his heart rate sped up when you smiled at him.

——

If there’s one thing Sam hated more than his father it was P.E. You were the only thing that made the class tolerable. Except he didnt think that because he barely noticed you or your teeny Juicy Couture shorts at all.

Even worse than P.E. (And Sam’s dad) was dodgeball. Fuck dodgeball. Sam thought as he stood in the corner of the gym and watched all the popular guys peacock for your attention.

A star ball hit Sam in the face, and the accompanying voice of one of the jocks followed “you’re out gaybo! Sit the fuck down!” And Sam rolled his eyes, sitting down as he flipped off the guy.

Like a guardian angel sent by a god he didn’t believe in, you threw a ball at the jock and got him out, playfully flipping him off like Sam did.

You go up to Sam and offer a hand. “C’mon, you’re back in. You okay? Looked like a nasty hit.” You smile.

Despite the bit of chill in the winter air, Sam felt a warmth spread across his face. “Yeah no.. whatever. Im good. Im fine” he scoffs, taking your hand to get up and dropping it suddenly when he realizes he just accidentally held your hand

“M’kay” I smile and saunter off to keep playing.

——

“It doesn’t mean anything. Shes nice to everyone” Sam sighs and rubs his face as he and Corey sit in the roof of his station wagon.

Corey takes a long inhale of their shared cigarette “yeah but..” he exhales “she helped you.. or some shit. I don’t know. But I can feel it. She likes you dude” he lays back.

Sam leans back and looks up at the sky, biting his bottom lip in contemplation. “Yeah but— fuck man. I can’t just ask her to be my valentine. That’s corny. And she probably has one” Sam sighs

Corey rolls his eyes “does she even entertain the other guys? There’s no harm in asking. Just like, buy her flowers or chocolate or something I don’t know. But ask her” Corey takes a puff.

“Y’know what. Fuck it man. I’ll ask” Sam nods and takes the cigarette, taking a long breath in and letting the exhale dwindle away in the night sky, his mind on you, you and your plump lips..

“Do you think Angel likes roses?” Sam groans

Corey huffs “probably. Get some chocolate too. Shit dude, maybe even a card” he giggles.

——

Walking through the halls of the school had never been so embarrassing. Who did Sam think he was? Using the little bit of cash he had that he’d usually spend on weed for chocolate and stupid flowers? It was too late to back down now. He had to focus.. but even as you got closer he could feel your eyes on him..

Clutching the six roses in his hand, Sam clears his throat to get your attention. “Hey.. uhm— could I talk to you..?” He murmurs and looks around at your friends. Your popular friends, all hanging around your locker. This was a bad idea.

The gentle smile that teased the corner of your lips almost made him forget to breathe “Of course.” You smile and lead him away to a different hallway “we’ll be right back” you look back at your friend then focus on him.

Oh god he was going to do it. “Uhm.. I was wondering if maybe you’d like.. I dunno.. be my valentine?” He murmurs and holds out the roses, opening his backpack and grabbing the chocolate.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at you, he was so close to just walking away, but the gentle sound of your giggles bring his gaze back. “Of course I will Sammy” you take the gifts “thank you, these are beautiful.

He was shocked. You said yes? This was a joke. A bet. You were just pitying him. “Really?” He whispers, not quite registering that you actually agreed. “Well uhm.. how about I like.. take you to dinner..?” He spews before his mind can catch up with his mouth.

You smile wider “Yes really. And I’d like that.” You take out a notebook and scribble down two things “here’s my number and address. Let me know the details” you kiss his cheek “Bye Sammy”.

He’s eyes followed you like a magnet “See ya..” he mumbles, bringing a hand up to where you kissed him, gently touching the spot with the pads of his fingers.

——

Nervous wasn’t even in the ballpark of emotions he was feeling. This still had to be some elaborate prank, a joke, never mind that he’d called you 3 times and told you to be ready for a dinner he planned, his heart swelling at the excited tone of your voice. You’d stand him up, he’d drive to your house like an idiot and you’d tell him you weren’t serious.

Telling his parents was arguably just as nerve wracking.

<<Hey mom uhm, could you help me.. maybe?>> Sam mumbled to his mother, Robin, as she cooked dinner, her eyes widened in surprise as not only did her angsty son talk to her, but he was asking for help?

She smiled << yeah i suppose.. with what..?>> her tone was gentle, almost hesitant.

Sam shrugged <<I uhm.. like.. maybe have a Valentine’s Day date..>> he cleared his throat and had to stop the smile as his mom rattled on about who you were and then helped Sam with all the details.

Standing at the door of your very nice home, in his only pair of decent dress slacks and a black button down, Sam clutched the bouquet of roses his mom helped pick out and rang the doorbell.

A middle aged woman with sleek brown hair answered the door. “Ah, you must be Sam” she smiles.

Sam nods, running a hand through his black and blue hair “yeah.. that’s me” he gives a lopsided smile “is your daughter ready?” He asks.

“She should be.” Your mom turns into the house “darling! Your dates here!” And the click clack of heels meets Sam’s ears.

You looked stunning. Breathtaking. Sam was flummoxed as he met your gaze. Your dress was a beautiful blush color, and your makeup matched. Sam reminded himself to blink as you approached “Hey.. happy Valentine’s Day” he quirked up his lips and held out the bouquet of flowers.

“These are gorgeous. Thank you” you smile and take his hand, this time on purpose, and walk to his car. Sam opens the passenger seat before climbing in the drivers seat and twisting his key.

Mr. Self destruct by Nine Inch Nails starts to play up again and Sam quickly turns it off “Sorry.. I was uh..” he flushes with sudden embarrassment at his music taste.

You turn the dial back up “don’t apologize. I’d be happy to listen to the music you enjoy” you smile and admire his side profile as he drives, your eyes drawn to the way his hands fiddle with the gear shift, taking in the faint scent of weed that lingers on the leather seats. It was so him, so perfect.

——

The date was perfect. A beautiful awkward mix of Sam’s corny jokes and your elegant aura. It became clear that not only was it not a pity date, but maybe you actually liked him back? He tried not to let himself dwell on the idea. But as the server called you guys “cute” and you just thanked him, Sam could feel himself falling deeper into this boyish crush.

Walking out of the restaurant hand in hand, Sam decided to deviate from his original plan “We should get ice cream. I know this lookout point I smoke at sometimes. It’s perfect for stargazing” the sudden boost of confidence he had talking for him.

“I’d like that a lot” you take his hand and walk to his car.

——

For the first time Sam felt like the universe was on his side. Eating ice cream on Valentine’s Day, sitting in the open trunk of his car with the girl he likes and watching the stars after a successful date, the only thing that would make it better was if he didn’t have a raging boner from watching you lick cream off your lips.

As you got down to the bottom of your cone and started to lick the melted desert off your fingers, Sam wiggled and tried to pull away. But you noticed. Of course you noticed.

“Something wrong?” You look at him and scoot closer.

He swallowed audibly “nothing.. nothing wrong.. I’m great” he shakes his head vehemently.

You lean your head closer, the hot air mingling between you “you sure? You look flushed” you giggle and tease.

He dares to lean in “am not!”

You smile “are too” and then your lips attach. The kiss is heavy, full of Sams insecurity and your desire. His inexperienced tongue moves around your mouth, his pants growing tighter from the taste of your lips.

Climbing onto his lap, you finally see the source of his awkwardness “mmm.. is that what’s wrong?” You tease and gently move your hips over his hard on.

Sam gasps into the kiss, whimpering and letting his mouth part “y-yeah..” he stutters, trying to latch onto his last shred of gentlemanly thoughts.

“You’re so adorable” your giggles make him flushed.

“I’m not adorable.. I’m.. I dunno..” he stutters pathetically, panting into the kiss and bucking his hips up.

You keep moving “pretty sure you are. You’re whimpering like a loser. A cute loser” you kiss and suck on his jaw.

Sam lets out a moan “nuh uh..” he tries for the last time to hold on, but as he opens his eyes and meets your gaze, he’s done for. With one finally little whine, he cums in his pants, bucking his hips up and kissing you.

Both if you look at eachother with wide eyes, the look in his is terrified, the look in yours in playful “did you just..?” And he tears up

“Sorry.. ‘m so sorry.. couldn’t help it..” he pouts and looks at his lap.

You flick his nose to get his attention “I’m not mad Sammy.. that was.. hot” he giggle and kiss him again.

“Hot..?” He mumbles and his hands find your waist.

“And pathetic. Hot and pathetic.” You confirm with a nod of your head.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Fake dating with hockey player Anakin 😵‍💫😵‍💫

HOCKEY PLAYER!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

Author's note: have no idea if you meant headcanons or fic so im sorry :// also this is also an opportunity for me to ask anyone who want to send a request to be more specific! It helps a lot

You should have said no.

You knew it'd be a disaster when ANAKIN SKYWALKER said, "I need a fake girlfriend."

And you need a freaking bag full of money

The words had barely left his stupid, pretty mouth before you rolled your eyes and continued walking. But, of course, he'd not let you go that easily. He chased after you, hockey bag slung over his shoulder, smelling like cologne and screaming trouble.

"C’mon, bookworm. It’s just for a little while. My ex won’t leave me alone, and Coach says I need to ‘grow up’ and ‘be responsible.’ You’re, like, the most responsible girl I know.”

Your mistake? Stopping to listen.

Your second mistake? Agreeing.

HOCKEY PLAYER!ANAKIN who sat with you to set the rules;

"Alright, we need some ground rules,” you began, tone serious as you laid your notebook flat on the table.

Anakin leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and that signature cocky smirk on his face. "Go ahead, princess. What rules you got in mind?"

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, ignoring the way his gaze lingered on your lips for a second too long. "First off, no unnecessary touching."

He raised an eyebrow, smile widening. "Unnecessary? So what's necessary touching? Hand-holding? Arm around your waist? Kissing?"

Your face heated up instantly, and you cleared your throat, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. "Only in public, and only when we have to sell it," you replied, writing it down in your notebook, though your hand shook slightly..if your mother would see this, she would instantly deprive you

Anakin chuckled softly, leaning in closer over the table. "Does that mean I get to kiss you whenever people are watching? Maybe slip a hand down to—"

"Rule two!" you cut him off, cheeks flaming as you forced yourself to focus. At least one of you had to be focused "No… suggestive comments."

"Can’t promise that, sweetheart."

You glared at him, though the effect was ruined by how hot your skin felt. "You have to try."

"Fine, fine," Anakin waved it off playfully. Then he leaned forward, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he took your notebook from your hands, flipping it closed. "My turn for some rules."

You blinked, confused. "Your rules? I thought this was—"

"Rule one," he interrupted "When we’re together, you don’t look at anyone else but me."

You scoffed, trying to sound unaffected, but the possessiveness in his tone made something inside you stir. "And why would I need to look at you all the time?"

His lips curled into a slow smirk as his eyes locked with yours. "Because if we’re selling this, I want people to know you’re mine. Fake or not, you’ll have to act the part."

"Fine. But that goes both ways."

"Of course, princess," he said, winking. "I wouldn’t dream of looking anywhere else."

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your composure as he continued. "Rule two: when we’re alone, we still act like we're dating."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Wait, why? No one’s around to see it."

"Because I want you to get used to it," he said, voice low and teasing. "It’ll make things easier in public, right?"

You swallowed hard, trying to form a retort, but the way he was looking at you had your words caught in your throat. The way he said it—like he was daring you to admit just how much he was getting under your skin—made your heart race.

You let out a heavy sigh, feeling your cheeks flush again as you looked away. "Fine. But if you cross any lines, this deal is off."

"I wouldn't dream of it"

He nodded at whatever you've been lecturing him about before he leaned back in his chair with that cocky grin of his. "Agreed. But there’s one thing I won’t agree to—you can’t limit how many times I call you my pretty little girlfriend."

He tapped his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm... how about rule three? You have to wear something of mine to class.”

"Wait, what?" You blinked, caught off guard.

He smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. "You heard me. Just something simple. A sweatshirt, a jacket—anything. It’ll make the whole thing look more real."

You let out a breath, shaking your head but still writing it down. "Alright, anything else, mister 'I’m perfect’?"

He chuckled, leaning forward now, arms on the table “Oh, I’ve got one more. You have to come to my games. Obvious, right?”

You raised an eyebrow but wrote it down anyway, handing the paper to him with a sigh. “Sign it.”

He scanned over the rules with exaggerated care for someone like him, then grabbed the pen and signed it with a flourish. "With pleasure, pretty girl."

HOCKEY PLAYER!ANAKIN who walked you to another class;

Ball rang and you stepped out of your classroom, only to lock eyes with the devil himself. Anakin stood a few feet away, surrounded by his friends from the hockey team. When your eyes locked, a smirk tugged at his lips before he excused himself from the group and made his way towards you.

"What are you doing here?" You whispered, heart pounding at the sight of him.

He gave you a charming smile, hand quickly finding its way to the small of your back as he leaned in close "I’m here to walk you to your next class, of course."

You stiffened at the unexpected contact, but he didn’t seem to notice, of care, as he led you through the bustling hallway. His hand slid even lower, brushing your pocket, before coming dangerously close to your ass. "What are you doing?" You hissed, voice barely carrying an edge of irritation.

His hand didn’t move though, instead it pressed against you as if to make a point, before sliding in fully to your pocket..on your ass.. His voice got lower, just for you to hear. "I’m just doing my part to sell it, pretty girl. Can’t have everyone think I’m not totally smitten with my girlfriend, can we?"

He glanced around, clearly taking pleasure in the stares from other students. "See? They’re all watching us."

"I don't like that," voice tense but a little breathless from the mix of discomfort and... something else you refused to acknowledge

He grinned again, sensing your unease, and leaned in closer, his hand giving your ass a tiny, teasing squeeze. "Come on, loosen up. You’ve got to act like you enjoy it when I touch you if we’re gonna make this look real." His tone softened for a moment as his gaze met yours. "Where’s your class? Can’t walk around aimlessly with you."

"Chemistry... second floor." You said, words escaping your lips almost automatically as youso desperately tried to focus on something else to keep your composure.

Anakin nodded, still trailing behind you, large hand slipping down a little further, lingering just below your waist as he gave your bum a subtle pat. His words came out smoothly, as if this was just another normal conversation between a boyfriend and his girlfriend. "Looks like we’re headed to the second floor then, sweetheart." then he continued "So, how were classes today? Anything exciting? Any tests?"

"It was okay..." You muttered, wanting the conversation to be over.

He chuckled, clearly not buying it. The grip on your hip only tightened as he pulled you closer, breath warm against your ear. "Just ‘okay’? C’mon, at least one thing had to be interesting." His hand gave your ass a firmer squeeze, body pressing up against yours as you both moved up the stairs.

"Anakin, the PDA, remember?" You whispered, trying to pull away just a little.

He smirked, eyes scanning the hall to make sure no one was paying too much attention. When he didn’t spot anyone, he leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "I’m just keeping up our cover, baby. Can’t have anyone thinking you don’t like my touch, now, can we?" voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"I want to stab you." You muttered

He laughed "Now now, let’s not get too violent. It’s not very ‘girlfriend-like’ to be plotting to stab your boyfriend, is it?" He teased, amusement screaming from his eyes

You furrowed your brows, about to fire back a retort when Anakin closed the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours in a swift kiss before pulling away. His hand gave your ass one final squeeze, smirk never leaving his face as he whispered. "See you after class, pretty girl." And even when he left, you swore you could still feel his touch on your body..and it definitely did not help you treat this as a normal «fake dating» thing

HOCKEY PLAYER!ANAKIN whose eyes made you feral - the way he looked down at you, a little too possessive, a little too protective, a little just too much for your liking. Gaze didn't leave you for a second while you would speak, eyes would soften, be so hypnotized/captivated by you, you caught yourself thinking if he was really pretending

HOCKEY PLAYER!ANAKIN who shamelessly grabbed your hand in front of his teammates..which obviously was flustering for you but weird for his friends, cause since when THE Anakin Skywalker dated some random?

HOCKEY PLAYER!ANAKIN who brought you to parties;

You should have stayed at home.

The party was loud, sweaty, too overwhelming— simply and shortly, not your scene at all. But Anakin had looked at you with those stupid, stupid big blue eyes and said, «I need you there, bookworm. Just one night. It's in the deal, remember?»

So you were standing in the middle of someone's packed house, hugging a solo cup to your chest, while Anakin—the guy you’re fake dating for reasons you’re still not sure of—was locked in an intense stare-down with his ex.

Padmé Amidala. The school’s golden girl. The one everyone thought Anakin would marry someday.

And maybe that's why your stomach curled in a way you couldn't process right now. The idea of competition, the thought of the real reason you were kind of stuck to fake-dating Anakin hit you like a wall.. He was doing it for her. To win her back, in this weird, so-anakin-like way..

Suddenly, before you can contemplate further, Anakin’s turning to you, hands finding your waist. Breath is warm against your ear when he leaned down.

"Kiss me."

Your brain short-circuits. What?

"What?" you echoed dumbly. The music was too loud, the bass feeling like it shook the floor. It all mixed with your beating rapidly heart in the perfect rhythm

"Kiss me," Anakin repeated, voice lower, rougher. His eyes are still trained on Padmé across the room, but his fingers squeezed your waist just enough to make your stomach do a flip.

Twice.

You didn't even have enough time to think properly

Because Anakin cupped your face and crashed his lips with yours. The kiss was deep, hungry, a little desperate. His tongue slide against yours, and your knees literally went weak. None ever kissed you this way..none kissed you in general with such..passion.. precision, as if he was too skilled in this matter

His hands tightened on your waist after he deepened the kiss, pressing you back against the nearest wall as if the idea of any space between you frustrated him.

You're gone. Done. Wrecked. Destroyed. Out of any power.

When he finally pulled away, with those pink lips glistening, being swollen, sinful, tempting, even. He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, wiping away the evidence of what he just did.

You stared at him dazedly

"Too stunned to speak, kitty cat?" Anakin smirked breathlessly

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy-deactivated20250 @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17-deactivated2025 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden

[starkeysprincess]

Petals & Promises

rafe cameron x Kook fem!reader

SUMMARY: Rafe Cameron doesn’t do romance—until after that wild night at the party, when he starts showing up at your door with flowers. No words, just a smirk and a bouquet. It’s probably just a joke... or is it?

wc: 3,4k (I got carried away 😛)

WARNINGS: some angst, mainly fluff, (idk what else to add lmk)

Y/N was curled up on her couch, overwhelmed with the strenuous college work that she had to turn in till next week. It was quiet on Figure 8, The afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, casting a soft glow across the room. The stress inside of her was slowly building up while cautiously reading through her essay, making sure not to make one single mistake. She was a straight A student after all, and the only thing that mattered to her was having perfect grades. Meanwhile her friends were going out, partying, drinking, living their best lives, she was bed rotting and freaking out about her future, it was stupid really.

suddenly, she heard her phone ring and when she saw that it was her best friend Lila, she couldn't of have been happier. Immediately she picks up the phone:

L: "hey girlll, how are you?"

Y/N: "hey Lil, I'm finishing up my assignment, as always, ugh im literally about to pass out."

L: "okayyy perfect then, I have the perfect solution for you, you're coming to Rafe Camerons party today at 8. You seriously need to loosen up."

Y/N: "wait- what? Lil, you know I can-"

L: cya there!

*the phone Hangs up*

"Fuck...." you mumble to yourself and let out a sigh. But on the other hand, maybe listening to Lila and forgetting about school wouldn't be so bad at all? I mean, as long as you don't get wasted what could go wrong? Time passes and you get up to fancy yourself up. It feels so stupid to you, but on the other side you've never been to a party before and a feeling of excitement rushes through you. Therefore you do a full face of soft glam makeup, touching it up with a rosey pink color of gloss and curl your hair. The last touch was the outfit, for which you had decided to go with a pretty dark blue evening gown and a pair of louboutin heels. If you were being honest, this was the prettiest you've felt in a long time. It felt relieving to feel comfortable and beautiful in your own body again. You leave your house and start walking to Tannyhill. Once you get to your destination, you see a large crowd of people in front of the Cameron household. You step into the house, and boom—music shaking the walls, bodies everywhere, air thick with booze and something fruity. Before you can even process, Lila spots you.

“GIRL, FINALLY!” she stumbles over, nearly spilling her drink. “I was ’boutta send a damn search party. By the way you look JAW DROPPING”

“Thank you but you texted me two minutes ago.”

“And that was two minutes of suffering,” she says dramatically, shoving a cup into your hand. “Now drink.”

You sniff it. “What the hell is this?”

“Who cares? It’s alcohol.”

You take a sip—mistake. “Bro, are you tryna poison me?”

she cackles. “Lightweight. C’mon, we need shots.”

Fast forward—you're both gone.

You’re clinging to each other, half-dancing, half-tripping, screaming the wrong lyrics to some song. Your head spins, but in a fun way.The room spins. The lights blur into streaks of neon, and the bass vibrates through your chest like it's syncing with your heartbeat. You don’t know how long it’s been—minutes? Hours? Your head is heavy, your legs unsteady, and suddenly, Lila is gone. Panic flickers through the haze of alcohol. You push through the crowd, bumping into sweaty bodies, murmuring half-apologies. Your vision tunnels, and the edges of the world start to fade. Shit. You need air. You need to sit. Stumbling toward the wall, you brace yourself, blinking hard to clear your vision. The party keeps moving around you—people laughing, dancing, making out in dark corners—but it all feels distant, like you're underwater. But even through your fucked up vision and fuzzy head, you see and feel someone eyeing you down.

And then you see him.

Rafe Cameron.

He’s across the room, leaning against the counter, drink in hand, watching you. Not just looking—watching. His sharp blue eyes flicker under the dim lights, unreadable, intense. Your pulse stutters. Whether it's from the alcohol or the way he tilts his head slightly, like he’s debating something, you’re not sure. All you know is that everything else—the noise, the people, the chaos—fades into the background.

It’s just you and him.

Your legs give out before you can take another step. The world tilts violently, and the last thing you feel is the cold floor meeting your body. Distantly, voices blur together, someone laughs, music pulses through your skull. Then—warm hands. Strong arms wrapping around you before you hit the ground completely. The scent of cologne, sharp and clean, cuts through the alcohol haze clouding your brain. “Shit.” A deep voice, close. Your head lolls against something firm—a chest? A shoulder? You can barely process it, everything slipping in and out of consciousness like a bad dream. “Yo, is she good?” someone asks. “She’s fine,” the voice responds, low and controlled. “I got her.”

Then you’re moving. Lifted effortlessly, arms hooked under your legs and back. The warmth is grounding, but your mind is too fogged to fight it, to even think about what’s happening. Cool air kisses your burning skin as you’re carried outside. The music muffles behind closed doors, replaced by the sound of steady footsteps, the distant hum of crickets.

You try to mumble something, but it comes out as a slurred mess.

“Relax,” the voice says. “You’re safe.”

Safe. The word wraps around you, pulling you further into the darkness.

The first thing you notice is the warmth. Not just from the hoodie wrapped around you, but from the air itself—quieter, softer than the freezing night outside. The second thing is the scent—clean linen, expensive cologne, a faint trace of cigarette smoke.

You’re not at the party anymore.

Your head is still spinning, but the pounding bass, the suffocating crowd, the overwhelming chaos—it’s all gone. Replaced by something calmer. Safer. Blinking hard, you push yourself up slightly, your body weak and heavy, and that’s when you see him.

Rafe Cameron.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, head tilted slightly like he’s been watching you this entire time. But not in the way people usually say he does. There’s no arrogance, no sharp amusement. Just something unreadable. Something almost… gentle. His blue eyes flicker over your face, scanning, assessing. “You good?” Your throat is dry, but you manage to croak, “Where—?”

“My place,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You were out of it. I wasn’t about to leave you there.” The weight of those words settles in your chest. You were vulnerable—completely out of it—and instead of taking advantage, instead of leaving you behind, he brought you here. Safe. Taken care of.

You were confused, and on the other hand you were partially panicking, why would Rafe Cameron take you to his house?

“I—” You don’t even know what to say. Your hands clutch at the hoodie around you, only now realizing it’s his. The sleeves practically swallow your arms, the fabric drowning you in warmth. “You were shaking,” Rafe says like he’s reading your mind. “Figured you could use it.” Your stomach flips. Why is he like this?

You’ve heard the stories—Rafe Cameron is reckless. Selfish. Dangerous. But the guy sitting in front of you? He’s none of those things. Maybe it's just an illusion, maybe he just wants to get between your legs and leave you. He shifts, reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand, then holds it out to you. But when you try to grab it, your fingers tremble too much. You're unsure of wether you should trust him or not.

Rafe notices.

Without a word, he lifts the glass to your lips himself, his free hand cupping the back of your neck, steadying you. His touch is warm, careful, almost hesitant—like he’s afraid of hurting you. The moment stretches, something thick and heavy settling between you. When you finish, he pulls back just slightly, his thumb barely grazing your skin before he lets go. The loss of contact makes something tighten in your chest.

“You feeling okay now?” His voice is quieter now, softer.

You nod weakly. “Yeah… thanks.”

His lips press together, like he’s debating something. Then, finally, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“I don't want you to go there anymore.”

Your breath catches. “I—what?” Rafe lets out a small, breathy chuckle, almost like he can’t believe himself either. “You just… you don't belong at parties.” He glances away for a second, then back at you.

Your heart drops, unsure what he means and you swear you could feel your face heat up in embarrassment.

Your fingers tighten around the hoodie still wrapped around you, and you finally whisper, “Why?”

Rafe holds your gaze for a long moment, the air between you thick, heavy with something neither of you know how to name. Finally, he reaches out, fingers barely grazing your cheek, his touch featherlight. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“Because it’s you,” he murmurs. He stares you down with a neutral face expression. The embarrassment lingers, twisting in your chest.

Parties aren’t for you.

Rafe’s words replay in your mind, making you feel small. You tug his hoodie tighter around you, avoiding his gaze. He sighs, grabbing his keys. “C’mon. I’ll take you home.” The drive is quiet until he finally speaks. “You think I meant that in a bad way.” You hesitate. “Didn’t you?” His grip on the wheel tightens. “No. I meant… you don’t need that shit. The fake smiles, drunk assholes, guys looking at you like—” He stops, jaw clenching. “Like you’re something to mess with.”

Your heart stumbles.

“I just—” He sighs. “It’s not you.” The weight in your chest shifts. Not gone, but lighter. When he pulls up to your house, he reaches out, tugging the hood over your head gently. His fingers graze your jaw, slow, careful. “Get inside safe,” he murmurs. You nod. “Thanks… for everything.” As you step out, you don’t look back.

But if you did, you’d see him still watching. Still waiting.

Two days pass, but you can’t shake the way Rafe looked at you that night. The softness in his voice, the weight in his eyes. Like he saw you differently. Like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

You tell yourself it was nothing. That it was just a moment. That Rafe Cameron doesn’t do things like that.

But then— The doorbell rings.

When you open it, he’s there.

Standing on your porch, dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans, looking almost nervous. And in his hands—a bouquet. Not just any bouquet, but the kind that looks like it came straight from some overpriced florist. Deep red roses, white lilies, wrapped in a silk ribbon. Your breath catches.

“Uh…” You blink at him, words failing you. “Are you lost?” Rafe huffs a small, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “No.” He glances down at the flowers, then back up at you. “These are for you.”

You just stare. Because—what? After a beat, you slowly take them, fingers brushing his as you do. The petals are soft, the scent rich and overwhelming. “Rafe…”

“I know,” he cuts in, running a hand through his hair. “This is… not what you expected.” You nod, still too stunned to process. He exhales sharply, like he’s bracing himself. Then, finally—

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

Your heart stutters. Rafe looks away for a second, like this is harder for him than it should be. When he speaks again, his voice is lower, rougher.

“That night? Seeing you like that? It fucked me up.” His blue eyes meet yours, and there’s nothing cocky in them. Just honesty. Raw and unfiltered. “I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, I started caring. And it scared the shit out of me.”

You swallow hard, your grip tightening around the flowers.

He takes a small step closer, voice dropping even lower. “But you looked at me like I was good that night. Like I was worth something.” He scoffs under his breath, shaking his head. “And I wanted to be that. For you.”

Your chest tightens, your pulse pounding. Rafe runs a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “Look, I don’t do this shit. I don’t—” He gestures vaguely, like this is beyond him. “But I can’t not do this with you.”

Another step. Closer.

“So let me take you out. A real date.” His gaze softens, voice barely above a whisper now. “Let me prove I can be good for you.”

The world narrows to just him. His eyes, his voice, the plea hidden beneath it all.

And suddenly, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.

Because this? This feels real.

[semihearts]

Wait you think I’m pretty?

Pairing: Thanos x reader

Summary: Thanos and you are childhood friends and joined the game together, when he almost mess up during a game for being too high, he understands that you cant loose him… because you love him

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hope you like this one!! Feel free to leave opinions and suggestions <3

༺ ༽♡༼ ༻

When you agreed on joining some shit game Thanos was talking about all week, you could never guess that they weren’t just normal games, but actually deadly ones.

-‘’Where the fuck did you get us in Thanos? I swear I’ll kill you”. -“Senorita relax!! This first game was easy, ,we’ll make out of here alive with all that money”.

You and Thanos are friends since you can remember, and honestly you can never get used to his weird personality and he still manages to get you surprised all the time. Of course he brought with him his necklace, which is full of surprises as well, but you didn’t expect that in a place like this, his first concern was to get high as hell.

During lights out, Thanos would get in your bed and lay with you, and you knew he never slept. Maybe its the effects of the drugs, but you like to believe that he’s taking care of you - and you’re actually correct, he could never sleep knowing that there’s even crazier people then him a few steps away, who knows what they would try to do to you if he weren’t close -.

During mingle, he always made sure to grab your hand and tried to stay focused, even though he was literally seeing rainbows and unicorns - all thanks to the colored pills on his cross-. When the robotic voice said Two, he already knew who to pick. You ran first to secure a room, but once you got there… where the fuck was Thanos?

In the middle of the room, there he was. Completely still, with a confused face, and lost eyes, is he out of his mind??

-‘’Thanos!! Thanos what the hell are you doing?” You screamed his name but it seemed like he was in another world

10, 9, 8…

You ran towards him, grabbed his arm and ran, of course there was people getting in the room you secured before, as you had to leave it. Thanos was clearly off, his life was in a thin line and he had no reaction or expression. This game is about surviving, even if it means killing others, and that’s the thought you stuck to.

Using all your willpower, you managed to push those players out of the room and drag Thanos inside, locking the door.

-“Thanos!” Nothing -“Thanos!!” Nothing -“Su-bong!” His eyes were immediately on you.

Like he just woke up from a bad dream, his eyes found yours, he was awake. You never called him by his real name, which is almost dead to him, he is Thanos, that’s him now, he’s way happier being this new person.

‘’What- what just happened? Oh my God Senorita I’m literally sooo high right now-“

‘’Im tired of this, really Thanos. You could’ve died right there, all thanks to these stupid pills. But of course you never listen to me when I tell you to not use them before a game. I don’t know why out of everyone I chose to love you! You’re a complete idiot”.

“Wait did you just confess?”

“That you’re a jerk?”

“Nah fuck that, you just said that you love me girl”.

[s0lar-ch3ri]

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY TO @justyouraverageleafykinnie AND @dogboyratgirl TAKE THE SILLIES

tw theyre fluffy and sweet in this so yeah (also long. also will maybe post to ao3 someday idrk)

title is "together we can figure it out!" a bears in trees lyric

this fic features lint from wonderlust as well as wonderlust ocs of my friends :3 (I AM NOT CAUGHT UP WITH WONDERLUST DO NOT EXPECT TO GET FUTURE EP REFS I DONT MIND SPOILERS IM JUST SAYING)

description: It's Aluntine's day (or their world's Valentine's day), and for strange, almost 100% homosexual reasons, Lint can't do anything but find his way back to Apple.

Lint had faced many Aluntines days inside the bakery with his mom, just making cookies. Couples came in, grabbed sweet little treats for their sweet little treats (that isn't incredible wording, maybe he hangs out by Troy too much), and left. It wasn't a lonely time, not when it made business. As he looks across the tables before opening, things feel different.

"You alright Bumblebee?"

Lint half-buzzes back a response. It's not even opening time, he needs to keep it together. Come on!

"Repeat that?"

He buzzes a bit more, less responding to the question and more mumbling to himself. Nothing else is different, nothing's too special about today, well maybe minus...

He leaves the bakery, off to find his sweet little treat.

Apple is not expecting much today. Yes, this time around, Apple could have gone with Lint somewhere nice, however he knew Lint was busy today at the bakery, so maybe he would bug him after. In the meantime, Apple was working on writing something. The plan was simple: finish this, check on the orchard, maybe visit the bakery and see that bee, all that good stuff.

Just like how he changed his life, Lint had changed his plans. With a jumpscare that made Apple fall out his chair, a special bee came buzzing in. All of Apple's panic faded into something softer seeing the culprit of the noise. He sighs a bit.

"Hello, sugarfly."

"I...I feel strange." Lint stands a bit awkwardly in the doorway. Apple repositions himself so they sit up better.

"Go on."

"I thought today was gonna be a normal day, but it just...doesn't. And I didn't know where to go so..."

"Of course." Apple starts cleaning up his writing supplies. He can finish it later.

"Do you uh- how do you ask this sort of thing..."

Apple bleats curiously.

"Do you want to be my Alumni? I just...I don't know. We can uh, hang out, like always, but, special? Not really? Help me out here..."

Apple giggles. "Of course darling."

He buzzes excitedly and Apple can't help but grin at him. I mean, when it's a nice day outside, pretty and basically shining, who could help themself?

"What were you thinking of?"

Lint sinks a bit into himself. Oh cog, he didn't think of something big. Or, uh, anything. What did Mars say? Deep breaths? He takes a couple, in for 7, hold for 6, release for 5. Surely Apple wouldn't mind. He hates liars anyways.

"I uh...I don't know. I just knew I had to come to you."

"That's okay! We can figure it out together!"

Cog that goat was pretty. No, Lint, focus! You have to give them the best date he's ever seen! Just how…

“Maybe a nice restaurant?”

“They may be all reserved out babydoll…”

“Oh…Does my place sound nice?”

“Always does.”

Did it feel silly to take Apple from their house to bee’s? Yes, but to be fair, there were specific things Lint needed there to make sure this was perfect. Apple deserved nothing less.

Walking in, she hears some commotion from the kitchen, mostly just grumbling and the sounds of the assembly of a gift. Looking past his neutral green walls into the kitchen with its purple walls, he sees Troy, bright red and looking just pissed. He angrily puts a ribbon around a set of orchids colored with mint and blue orchids. Despite his pissed…everything, Troy handles the flowers with much care.

“Something wrong Champion?”

“JAX.”

 “Is he-”

“THAT STUPID PRETTY BOY BASTARD ASKED ME ON A DATE BEFORE I COULD AND I NEED TO BEAT HIM WITH MY SLED. ALSO MAYBE KISS HIM.”

“You go do that love.”

Troy stomps by him, grabbing his face gently and kisses his cheek. Lint giggles, which sounds a bit like a buzz. He buzzes a lot. That wasn’t a bad thing, he hopes. Maybe he should just set up the movie.

“We uh, we’ve gotten a lot of movies. There’s Ratatoing- that’s not a good one, there’s Cloverfield, Jax may have left around his strange ‘Ratnarok’ documentaries or something- what interests you?”

“Uhhhh, all of them?”

“Love Rattually it is.”

As Apple helps with selecting the movie, he sets up the couch with its assortment of pillows and blankets. One is plain and fuzzy, a muted green, another a felt one with sunflowers on it. Lint grabs some pretzels and popcorn in the kitchen, he also prepares 2 cups of coffee, one for himself, and one for his heaven send.

Apple is still by the couch, sitting, waiting for Lint. He holds the letter he had planned to give Lint later that day, going over each carefully plucked and nurtured word. Lint had brought lights to his days that he would have known from no other being or aspect of living, the least he can do is give him something of perfection. Lint deserves nothing less.

He adds a couple details to it and carefully folds it so as to not crease it. He hopes it’s good enough. They finish the set up as footsteps come on by them behind the couch. Lint holds his arms around Apple from above as bee places in his hands a cup of coffee.

“Got you a cup! Made with love.” Lint is buzzing with joy, putting his head on Apple’s shoulder. Apple takes this as the chance to pepper him slightly with kisses, but like any well made dish, too much seasoning- well here it just made him giggle and light-heartedly protest.

“Let me put my cup down first angel!” He smiles and snickers and Apple feels his heart flutter around and he gains another reason to love him.

Lint climbs over into the blankets and snuggles up next to Apple as they play some movies, drinking coffee. At certain parts, Apple turns his gaze back to Lint and sometimes Lint’s looking at him. As eyes meet, the boys giggle as they give each other compliments and flirts and kisses. As their binging goes on, their energy simmers down with the time, fading into simple cuddling on the couch. Cups sit on the table, basically empty, with the TV’s hum as natural to the environment as Lint’s buzzing was to him. He adored this bee beyond words.

He carefully wriggles his letter out from his pocket, using the blue light to guide his reading ability.

‘’Dearest sweetest bee I’ve known, Lint

There are many things I want to tell you. I want to tell you how you are the light of my days and how no sun nor star could outshine you. I want to tell you how your voice is a gracious melody, with each note and buzz writing a harmonious tune I wish to hold forever. I want to tell you how I could count the stars that trail the sky and name all the shades of its majesty and not once could I think of a world where it’d be a more beautiful sight then the warmth of your smile. I want to tell you how you’ve taken my world and sculpted it to a more magical and wondrous one then I could have arrived too. I want to tell you how the ideas of love and friendship were carefully taught to me by the wondrous bee you are. I want to tell you how you’re the sweetest nectar I’ve tried and I’ve never felt once a need to find another.

There are many things I want to tell you. Maybe I can settle with a few words. I love you Lint, you are a shining star, thank you, I love you, thank you.

All the love I can give,

Apple’’

He’s still unsure if all he’s wanted to say is there, if that’s what bee would understand is true. Thoughts swarm Apple’s head, like a wasp hive, aiming for his heart. Before he gets lost in his mind, Apple hears a small faint buzz from a special someone under his head. He seemed to have fallen asleep a bit ago. The small reminder grounds Apple and his heart calms down with him. He’s got someone too close to there to be so worried. He remembers Lint’s words before, what he didn’t exactly say but was always there.

I didn't know where to go so I came to you.

Apple smiles a bit, closing his eyes and falling for the background TV ambience himself. Together they will figure it out.

[beomiracles]

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 TAPE 05

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. Though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder. ⸝⸝

𝓹airings criminal!beomgyu x detective!reader 𝔀arnings references to sexual encounters, blood, mentions of injuries, drinking, red-flag reader (?), no warnings just vibes idk man leave me alone im going to cry.

📼 THE TAPE RECORDINGS

𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓢����𝐎𝐑𝐘 contains dark themes portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships and substance abuse. reader discretion is advised ! — this story is partly told in flashbacks, beware of timestamps as past/present are mixed throughout the story.

#serene adds ✎.. the last scene was so god awful hard for me to write for some unknown reason... oh well! I got it out, I'm alive, all is well :3

[ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။| TAPE 05 ] — Bloody Bodies recording legnth; 6.4k + PLAYLIST

⸝⸝

📼 — April 29th 2022

“So… What happens now?” Your hushed question feels loud when it passes your swollen lips. Gingerly pulling your panties back on, you cringe at the sticky feeling of the damp fabric against your skin. Beomgyu remains silent next to you as he leans back against the brick wall. For a moment, you wonder if your question had been a stupid one to ask. 

It’s not until you move closer to him, your arm brushing against his that he tilts his head your way, one of his brows tugging upward. “Is something supposed to happen?” He echoes in an almost monotone voice. — Confused, you glance between him and the door only a few steps away. “Are you not going back inside?” 

For the past ten minutes you had been trying to come up with an excuse, rather an explanation to deliver in front of Kayla once you walked back inside the club with Beomgyu. She would be mad, undoubtedly so and your mind raked with different scenarios and outcomes. What would you tell her? Would you even get the chance to introduce him, would he even want you to? Maybe he would just take off as soon as you stepped inside. 

“No.” 

His sigh is like a stone brick thrown right at you, hitting you across the face and leaving an ugly bruise. You blink, in complete disbelief as your gaze darts back toward him. But you had just spent ten whole minutes worrying about what to say. And he wasn’t even going back in? — “You’re not?” It was impossible to hide the disappointment in your voice and you’re almost certain he picked up on it. 

Beomgyu shakes his head before letting it tilt back against the wall behind him. You knew that he was waiting for you to leave, and perhaps you should. Any other day you probably would have, but today it wasn’t enough. The sex only gave you a temporary fix, you needed more. 

“Where are you going?” You straighten out your back, hands falling to your sides as they clenched into fists. You were determined to draw at least a half-assed answer out of him. Beomgyu doesn’t look at you when he replies, “Work.” 

Ah right, work. It was an easy excuse, given that you knew little to nothing about what he did for a living, or anything else regarding him for that matter. That was bound to change. 

“You work nights?” 

He hadn’t expected that question, you could tell by the way his jaw subtly clenched, his hands digging deeper into his pockets. He nods, but his eyes are fixated on something far away, something you couldn’t see. “I do sometimes”, he hums. 

Sometimes? He must work quite odd hours, for night shifts were usually on a tight and regular schedule. “Is it okay for you to drink before work?” You ask with a small frown, silently questioning his move to come here if he knew he had somewhere important to be shortly after. — But Beomgyu merely shrugs as he pushes himself off the cold wall. “I am my own boss, dollface.” His lips curl into the ghost of a smirk when he leans over to kiss your forehead. 

And just like that, he was gone again, and you were left with what seemed even more questions than you’d started with. 

⸝⸝

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 22th 2024

“He was a freelancer… Of sorts..” You quietly state and Yeonjun glances up from the files in front of him. “Freelance?” He repeats and you nod as your gaze returns to the photos of the crime scene before you. Your finger drags across the image of the bloodstained cough, cringing as you imagine Beomgyu, covered from head to toe in blood as he lunges at the poor victim. 

“Do you know what kind of freelance?” Your senior then wonders as he flips a page. You did. Though Beomgyu rarely, if ever, discussed work matters with you, you had still caught on to enough where you knew what kind of connections he held, what kind of person he was. — For some reason your lips betray you, “I don’t.” 

You then hastily continue, “He was gone a lot, worked odd hours, came and went.” You shrug, trying your best to divert from the topic you had brought up yourself. You don’t know why you defended him, why you felt the need to take his side. You want to be honest with Yeonjun, hell you want to be honest with yourself. Why did he have to make it so hard? 

Your last conversation a mere two days ago was still fresh in your mind. You wondered if his words actually held any weight. Was it true? Were you still loyal to him, after everything that had happened… Maybe you always will be. The thought was a scary one and you quickly pushed it away. 

Choi Beomgyu was going to prison. He had no alibi, no witnesses, and all evidence pointed at him. All you lacked now was his confession, but that proved to be more than difficult. 

“Why did you do it?” 

Your question is left hanging in the open air, and your fingers curl around the pencil in your hand as you grip it tightly. The all too familiar metal table in front of you gleams under the bright lamp hanging above, the sterile lights reflecting off of its surface. — Beomgyu sighs, sounding tired as his gaze shifts from the wall behind you and over to meet your own. But when his eyes fall on you, they seem to regain their almost mischievous glint. “You’ve got to be a little more specific than that, dollface.” 

Feeling your jaw clench as you fight to stay composed, your gaze flickers to the window on your left. As much as you wanted answers, you couldn’t risk anything with Yeonjun on the other side, listening intently to the conversation taking place. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as you watch your reflection through the dark glass, you looked as scared as you felt. 

Following your hesitant glance, Beomgyu smirks. It was like he fed on your uncertainty. Every step you faltered allowed him to take at least three forward. You swallow, and then your attention returns to him. “Why did you kill him?” — “Hm?” He attempts to run a hand through his hair, cringing slightly when he realizes that they’re both tied together by the metal cuffs around his wrists. With the small roll of his eyes he continues, “Thought I already told you, I was cleaning up a mes-” 

“No.” 

He pauses, cocking an eyebrow as he watches you with an impassive expression. You draw in a sharp breath. Never had you interrupted him before, never had you dared to. His brows pull together, his vision narrowing if only slightly. “No?” He huffs, the disbelief in his tone evident. — You shake your head softly, the movement small, so minimal that only he could pick up on it. 

“Why did you kill him?” 

Within the four confined walls the already thick air suddenly shifted. You recognized the smirk that tugged across his lips, the way his eyes glimmered with recognition. Beomgyu leans back, his hands clasped neatly together as his thumbs roll over one another. And even though it felt as if the two of you spoke completely different languages, where words were all but an endless game of cat and mouse.. — Sometimes… It was like he could understand you perfectly, as long as you gave him reason to. 

His tongue prods against the inside of his cheek, his lip twitching and for a second it looked like he was holding back laughter. “Dollface”, he drawls, metal cuffs rattling against the metal table when he leans forward. “Why?” He echoes, “Is that what you’re dying to know?” 

Yes. But you never say it out loud. You swallow, your grip on the pencil so tight that it might just snap in half. Beomgyu picks up on it, his eyes flitting down for a second before snapping back up to yours. — You knew that Beomgyu had killed people, you knew that he had blood on his hands. You have seen it yourself. 

⸝⸝

📼 — May 11th 2022

The hotel room is dark. The expensive silk beneath you is cool to the touch and the large bed is cold, for it misses the warmth of another body next to your own. You try to swallow down the lump in your throat, but it won’t budge. It’s quiet, eerily so, and your stomach doesn’t tingle with butterflies as it usually would on a night like this. Instead it twists with dread. 

You reach for your discarded phone, its bright light stings your eyes when you re-read his message. The address was correct, the room number too. But the time… 11:45 pm. Your heart drops when your gaze flickers toward the time indicator on your screen. 

2:31 am. 

He was nearly three hours late. But Beomgyu was never late, in fact, he was always there before you. Often you had wondered how he managed to get from one location to the next, how he never seemed out of place, no matter when and where you met. But tonight things are different. — Had he changed his mind? Did he not want to see you after all? Maybe something had come up… 

Your attention fixates on the shut door. You imagine him walking through it, his dark hair falling across his even darker eyes, the everlasting smirk plastered on his lips. You imagine his voice, the nickname he had for you rolling off his tongue when his arms wrap around your waist. You imagine him kissing you, with a longing that perfectly matched your own. 

But Beomgyu never comes. 

You bite your lip, the idea of going home crossing your mind. It would be rather pathetic to wait here all alone, no? But then he would have spent money on a room left unused. Perhaps you should stay the night.. You could order room service in the morning before leaving. 

The bed frame rattles under your weight when your back reaches the mattress with a thud. Exhausted and anxious, you let your eyes fall shut as you beg for sleep to take you. Even if you worried that he would continue to haunt your nightmares. — Beomgyu always left you clueless, he kept you in the dark. But naive as you were, you thought you would one day get answers to all of your questions. If only you stayed long enough.. 

You don’t know how many hours had passed, perhaps it had been mere minutes. But it was still dark outside when the small click of the door lock startled you awake. Quickly shooting up from the bed, your back presses against the headboard as you grab onto a pillow, not that it would aid in any defense. 

The thick darkness prevents you from making out who the person lingering within the shadows was. Your heart thumps against your ribcage and your free hand blindly searches for your phone, only to freeze in your tracks when his voice cuts through the silence. — “Fuck, are you still here?” Beomgyu’s short breath instantly makes you relax and you slump back against the bed. 

Lowering the pillow from your chest, you swallow. “Sorry, should I have gone home?” You quietly wonder as you shift awkwardly on the mattress. In the everlasting darkness it was impossible to make out his expression, but you hear him heave a sigh. “No it’s fine, I… Fuck I’m sorry, dollface.” 

He takes a couple of steps forward, finally emerging from the shadows and becoming engulfed in the pale light of the moon. You find your gaze lingering by his dark figure, regarding him like it was your last chance, you never knew if it was. — The cold metal of his rings send sparks down your spine when his fingers wrap around your chin. He tilts your face back, his other hand finding a place atop your head as he studies you with a small frown. 

“I got held up at work”, he explains and your eyes widen. It was unusual of him to share as much as a word about his life outside of your encounters, even if it was just a simple apology for his tardiness.

You find yourself leaning into his touch. “It's alright”, you murmur, your eyes half lidded when you peer up at him, “You can always make it up to me.” 

Beomgyu chuckles, his hands sliding down your sides as he guides you back onto the mattress. The kisses he places to the side of your neck and down your collarbone are warm and familiar. That very warmth seeps into the cold vines that have tightened around your chest, gradually loosening them up.

You don’t question where he had been or what had made him take so long, you knew that you would never receive an answer. Instead you clung onto this fragile moment of intimacy, for you never knew if it were to be your last. 

Letting your hands trail along his still clothed chest, your fingers toy with the hem of his shirt, tugging on it as you pull him closer. Just as you’re about to push the garment up above his torso, do you freeze. There was an undeniable wet patch on the soft cotton. But when your lips part in an unspoken question, Beomgyu’s sudden kiss to your open mouth makes you lose your sense of direction. 

Allowing him to kiss you for a moment, your hands halt as your fingers nervously fiddle with his shirt. But when you find that the damp spot only grows, you can’t ignore it anymore. — “What’s that?” You half-hearted whisper against his lips, torn between satiating your burning curiosity and saving this sacred moment. 

“Hm?” Beomgyu hums against you, his kisses becoming all the more persistent in an attempt to sway your curious mind elsewhere. He ignores it when your hands brace themselves on his chest, and it’s not until you speak that he finally pulls back an inch. “Beomgyu, there’s something on your shirt..” 

With an outstretched arm you flick on the small light on the bedside table. Given a second to adjust to the warm glow, your eyes widen as soon as they fall on the dark crimson stain covering his grey shirt. — Was that… blood? 

Immediately you jerk back, your gaze flitting down to your now stained fingers. It was fresh. “Oh my god”, is all you can muster and before he has the chance to object your hands are insistently bunching his shirt up above his chest. — “Dollface”, Beomgyu tries, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrists but you merely shrug him off, all too focused on the blood smeared across his skin. 

“What happened- Are you hurt? Why didn’t you say something?” The words all come bubbling to the surface, passing your lips without crossing your mind twice. It’s not until your trembling fingers swipe across his very much untainted chest that a brief silence falls over the two of you. He doesn’t wince or draw back at your finger’s probing, because he wasn’t hurt in the first place. 

Beomgyu sighs, his hands brushing along your forearms. “It’s not mine”, he says, his voice is low, calm, as if trying to reassure you that everything was fine when it quite clearly wasn’t. How could he say something like that so casually? And what did he mean by not his? Who else if not him… 

You swallow, the sound near deafening in the otherwise quiet room. All previous desire and longing has now washed off, the heat of his kisses and his touch no longer linger. You felt cold, left with an uncanny feeling in the deepest pits of your stomach. — You refuse to look him in the eyes, “What happened?” 

He doesn’t answer right away. Was he thinking of an excuse? Was he conjuring yet another lie? Maybe he was debating on telling the truth for once. His thumbs rub soothing circles across your wrists, the small action however, had an opposite effect. You couldn’t tear your gaze from the blood, there was so much of it. 

“Told you I got held up at work didn’t I?” He finally says, pulling you close in order to press a kiss to your forehead. His words didn’t matter, they couldn’t erase the uneasiness that had begun to build inside of you. Instead you draw in a deep breath, shifting on the bed as you lean back to peer up at him. “What exactly do you do for work?” 

Beomgyu lets go of your wrists as he bites the inside of his cheek. He runs a hand through his dark hair and you intently follow the action. Whilst studying him under the faint glow of the bedside lamp, you notice just how rough he was looking, and that didn’t have to do with the blood tainting his chest. His hair was disheveled, his eyes sunken in, his skin was pale and there was a small cut on his upper lip. 

He looked exhausted. 

“It’s a business”, he begins in a low tone, drawing his words out as he talks slowly. His gaze flickers over the deep frown etched across your face and he presses the palm of his hand to your cheek. “I merely make sure that deals go through”, he says as his thumb slides between your furrowed brows, as if trying to ease your expression. 

You shake your head, unconvinced by his vague response. “What kind of business ends in you looking like that?” There’s an underlying sense of accusation to your question and despite the subtle clench of his jaw, Beomgyu continues his soft caress to your face. “Our client hurt himself, pure accident. — Had to get him help, it took longer than I expected.” 

He sends you a small smile, and you want to believe him, you really do. You want to believe that Beomgyu was just your average person, living an average life. But you knew that he wasn’t And you knew that he was lying to you right now. Beomgyu lied a lot. What you didn’t know was if his lies were good or bad intentions. 

It scared you. 

⸝⸝

📼 — May 11th 2022

You didn’t think Beomgyu was a murderer. No, that would be extreme. Yet you found yourself ignoring his messages. He’d sent two. Just like usual they had contained two separate addresses, two separate times. You’d officially stood him up twice. He told you that he was okay with it, that he didn’t mind, so you took his word for it. — On the fourth day you think he might stop, that he might grow tired of your persistent no-shows and move over to the next woman waiting on his call. But as you sit in class that very afternoon, your phone vibrates with the indication of yet another text. You felt your stomach twist. 

Of course, you were right. The second your eyes fall on the short message you completely lose track of your surroundings. He was insistent, you’d give him that. But surely this would be the last time he’d ask for you. You had spent weeks, almost two months chasing after him. Suppose a small part of you thought of this as payback. 

Perhaps that was what caused you to act without reasoning as you turned in your seat. A light tap to Taehyun’s shoulder makes his eyes divert from the board ahead and over to you. “Hm?” He asks as he taps his pencil against the pages of his notebook. You feel your lips tug into a smirk that’s familiar yet most uncharacteristic on you. 

“Do you want to go clubbing tonight?” 

Taehyun sputters at your words, his jaw slacking as he glances around like you’d just asked him to go down on you. “T-Tonight? Me and you? Clubbing?” He seems almost baffled at the proposal, even more so when you quickly nod. — “Sure why not?” You drawl as the smirk on your lips only grows. You trusted your classmate enough to share a drink or two with him. Besides, Taehyun was a good guy, there was no harm in getting to know him better was there?

He hesitates for a moment, gaze flitting between your professor by the front of the classroom and back to you. “But what about class tomorrow?” He wonders and you shake your head. “Class is canceled, didn’t you hear? Mrs Yang is ill.” — His mouth forms into a small ‘o’ shape as he hums. 

“Sure I guess… Do you have a place in mind?” 

“Are you sure you know where we are?” Taehyun sounds wary as he trails behind you, he’s like a skittish animal, ready to jump at the tiniest of sounds. He briefly stops to inspect an old street sign, only to jog after you like somewhat of a lost puppy. You, on the other hand, walk with long and determined strides, your feet carrying you through the narrow alleyway with a confidence you couldn’t quite recognize. — “Don’t worry, I’ve been here before.” 

Sure enough, the familiar entrance soon floats into vision. The same cold purple hues dance across the dark brick walls, casting the street in an eerie glow. You don’t know why you had picked this place, why it had seemed like a good idea, but now there was no going back. — You swallow the lump in your throat as images of you, walking down this very path not long ago, flashes before your eyes. 

You recognize the bouncer, the one who’d refused your entry last time. Part of your worries that he might do so again, this time you had no Beomgyu to rely on. The concept was both terrifying and freeing. This was the very first address he’d ever sent you, perhaps that was why the memory was still so vivid in your mind. Something about this place was different, special.

The sharp light of your phone screen illuminates your face as you check the message one final time. ‘Address, room number, 11:00 pm.’ You glance toward the clock on top of your screen, indicating a menacing 2:37 am. He would’ve left by now, surely pissed off with being stood up a third time, which means… Your gaze drifts toward the entrance mere feet away, the thumping rhythm of bass already drumming through your chest. 

You wanted to see Beomgyu, that was the truth. You just didn’t want to see him. The chances of catching a glimpse of him were slim, but if there was anywhere you’d be able to find him, it would be here. Why? — Well because your gut told you so. 

Taehyun grabs ahold of your arm when you make a move to approach the bouncer. “Why don’t we just go back?” He murmurs, the words coming out hushed. You shrug him off, shaking your head as you march toward the large man. This was it, you would give it your best shot. — Straightening your back, you push out your shoulders as far as they would go, your gaze narrowed when you glance up at him. 

The bouncer peers down at you through his dark sunglasses, then he frowns, lifting a finger as he pushes them down on his nose. His eyes meet yours and there’s a flash of recognition. “Miss”, he drawls, a small grin splayed across his otherwise stern face. “How delightful of you to join us tonight.” — He steps aside, allowing you both inside, though not without sending Taehyun a harsh glare. 

“Do you know him?” Your classmate asks as he stays close to you. — The smirk on your lips grows and you shrug, “Sort of.” 

The interior of the place was just like you had remembered it. The large dancefloor, the purple lights, the booths shoved against the walls, not to mention the lack of a bar as drinks were being passed around by the many waiters. — Somewhere behind you Taehyun lets out a short breath, gawking as he takes in his surroundings. But your eyes were only in search of one thing, of one person. And when you don't find him, you pull your friend along as you scour the outskirts of the crowded floor. 

Upon passing a waiter on bystand, you snag two glasses off of his plate, handing one of them to Taehyun. He seems skeptical as he peers down at his drink, “Do you even know what’s in these?” — You shake your head, “Nope.” That was the least of your concerns. 

Your eyes fall on the grand staircase when you bring the cool glass to your lips. The steps looked much different tonight than they had back then. Tonight they felt untouchable. There was no way you would be getting up there… At least now without a little help. 

“Where are you going?” Taehyun calls for you, and you hear him rushing after you as he pushes past the people in his way. You know that you should stop and give him at least a half-assed explanation, maybe even ask him to wait somewhere else. But your mind is entirely preoccupied with the sight before you. — “I’m serious, what are you-” He cuts himself off when he crashes into your shoulder, stumbling backward as he grips his drink tightly. 

You’ve stopped in front of one of the many booths lining the walls, and Taehyun peers over your shoulder as he tries to make sense of the situation. The unfamiliar faces to him are ones you recognize with fright. 

“No way”, a deep voice drawls, “Dollface, is that you?” 

Duri leans forward, his hand, previously on the thigh of the girl next to him, withdrawing as he runs it through his short hair. You feel your stomach draw into knots at the persistent use of that nickname, the one that sounded so sickeningly wrong coming from his lips. — Duri chuckles as he shakes his head in disbelief. 

“We seem to bump into one another quite a lot”, he muses, even though he knew that tonight had been no coincidence. You had come with clear intentions in mind, you were certain he could tell. — “Yes.” You send him a tight lipped smile, “So it seems.” 

You could practically feel the confusion radiate off of Taehyun as he shifts awkwardly behind you, his eyes darting between Duri and the men surrounding him. You try not to pay his presence any mind as you focus your attention on the target before you. 

“Say”, Duri leans forward as he grabs one of the drinks set aside on the table between you, “What can I do for you tonight?” 

Your lips part, the grip on your glass tightening significantly as you throw a glance over your shoulder, your eyes automatically landing on the staircase. The steps seemed to shimmer under the purple lights. Duri hums behind you, snapping your attention right back to where it should have remained all along. 

He brings his drink to his lips, taking a long sip as he peers at you over the rim of his glass. “Pray tell, what business do you have there?” He wonders as he busies himself with another sip. You shake your head, your gaze unwavering as you say, “That’s none of your concern.” 

Duri chuckles, the sound rough and raspy as it builds in his chest. His friends all join in, their laughter echoing off of the booth’s walls. You ignore them, patiently waiting them out as you twist the foot of your glass between your fingers. — After a long minute Duri finally nods, “He’s rubbing off on you.” 

The comment makes your face burn and you resist the urge to avert your gaze. Painfully, you watch as he leans over to share a kiss with the woman next to him, parting for a moment to whisper something in her ear. Then he sits back, slamming his drink down on the table with a little too much force. “Fair”, he agrees as he rises to his feet. 

Bewildered, you watch as he makes his way around the table, giving your shoulder a harsh pat before making his way toward the staircase. — “Come on”, you urge Taehyun as you hurriedly follow Duri’s tall frame through the ocean of people. Your classmate’s complaints are audible as he whines behind you. “Have you really thought this through?” He questions, his breath warm against the back of your neck, “I mean, look at the guy! We should not be following someone like him to-” 

He’s cut short when Duri suddenly stops by the first step. “Ah”, he exhales as he turns on his heel, his piercing gaze falling on Taehyun. “Seems I have yet to introduce myself, pardon me.” — He extends a rough hand and you watch as Taehyun gingerly takes it in his. “Duri”, he says, the menacing smirk on his lips making your friend cower as he mumbles out a quiet, “Taehyun..” 

It looked as though Duri was holding back laughter when he turned back to you. “Shall we?” He glances in the direction of the grand doors atop the stairs and you nod. 

When you had first climbed these steps, with Beomgyu’s hand on your lower back, the world had been spinning. Each step had felt like one closer to the edge of a misty cliff, where the fog was so thick that it had been impossible to deem the trauma of the fall you might take. — Tonight it felt different. The cliff was no longer enveloped in mist, you saw things clearly now. You saw him clearly. That’s what you had told yourself. 

Each step you take feels both empowering and deafening. The moment lasts forever yet it’s somehow over in a second. And before you know it, you’re faced with the grand doors leading into the VIP section. — Duri stops, his hand on the door handle as he sends the guards a small look of acknowledgement. 

“I think you’ll be fine from here”, he states, the finalization in his tone evident. Wordlessly he pushes the large doors open, motioning for you to step inside. You do so without hesitation, not sparing Duri as much as a second glance when you pass him. 

It’s quiet here, the air is lighter, cleaner. Just like you’d remembered it. Taehyun’s presence is hard to ignore as he clings to your side, the heat radiating off of him as his skittish eyes dart around the room. Almost all booths are occupied already, but you manage to find an empty one by the very edge. 

“Did you know him?” Taehyun whispers when you sit back against the soft cushions. You nod, your gaze still roaming the open space as you absentmindedly bring your drink to your lips, “Sort of.” — Your classmate frowns, and you knew all too well from the look on his face that he was far from satisfied with your answer. 

Your eyes jump from booth to booth, quickly skimming the people populating them as you fervently search for your target. But it’s not even been a full minute when Taehyun interrupts you again. — “Why are we here?” His voice is even quieter now, as if hesitant to even ask the question out loud. “Are you looking for someone?” He then adds when he notices your distant gaze. 

You hum, shaking your head as you lean back against the velvety cushion. “No.” But that was a lie, your first of many. And just as the simple word leaves your lips do you finally find him. All the way across the room, shielded by the man standing before him, yet you could clearly make out his dark hair amongst the rest. 

Suddenly your throat feels dry, and you gulp down another mouthful of your beverage. He’d come here after all. A small, naive part of you had hoped and wished that he would stay, that he would linger within the empty hotel room as he waited for your arrival. But it seems he’d moved quickly. 

It doesn’t take long for you to notice the unfamiliar woman draped on his arm. The sight shouldn’t surprise you anymore, but your heart still skips a beat. She was your replacement. And though she was far from anything you represented, he’d still turned to her when you were a no-show rather than wallowing his sorrows alone at night. — You shouldn’t have expected anything less of him. He was Choi Beomgyu after all. 

He hasn’t noticed you and appears preoccupied with whatever conversation he was currently indulged in. You wish he would notice you. You crave his eyes on you. You long for the way a simple glance from him could make you feel. 

You’d stood him up a third time tonight, and it had made you feel in control. For once you were deciding, and not him. So why was it that you felt so utterly powerless at this very moment? Why was it that your eyes searched his when he couldn’t be bothered to even gaze your way? 

You turn to Taehyun, he was watching you with a small frown. “You don’t like it here?” You ask, the tension falling from your face as you regard his awkward frame. Taehyun shrugs, his warm eyes flitting to the drink in his hand. “It’s alright”, he says, but you catch the hesitation in his voice. 

He chokes on the liquor when your hand brushes along his thigh. “Don’t worry”, you hum as you settle against the booth wall, “We can leave again if you’d like.” Taehyun swallows as he glances between the smile on your lips and to your fingers splayed across his leg. An unfamiliar tint spreads across his cheek when he clears his throat and you find yourself enjoying the sight. 

“It’s fine, really.” He assures you as he takes another small sip of his drink. Though he makes no attempt at shrugging you off. You could still sense his confusion, and you didn’t blame him. You were acting far too uncharacteristically even for your own liking. You had barely recognized yourself when you’d approached Duri. The sudden surge of confidence was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and the rush it had left behind still tingled in the depths of your stomach. 

It was the length you were willing to go in order to see him, to see Beomgyu. 

Your gaze drifts toward him on its own, and it’s not until his dark eyes fall on yours that you realize just how long and intently you’d been staring at him. He pauses mid sentence, his expression being struck with something you couldn’t quite decipher from this far away. Any other instance you would’ve probably looked away, hid behind nervous laughter or pretended like you hadn’t noticed him in the first place. 

But tonight you don’t feel like yourself. — So you hold his gaze. You want him to see you, all of you. You want him to know that you were here, that you had come without him and that you weren’t planning on changing said fact. 

Beomgyu shifts where he stands on the other side of the room. His fingers, that had previously been drawing small circles on the waist of the woman next to him, stopped. She’s talking to him, her lips move but you can’t make out what she’s saying, and you’re certain that he’s not listening either. 

You can’t tell if he’s angry, you hope he is. Was it selfish? You wanted to pull any other emotion besides lust out of him. You wanted him to feel what you felt every single moment spent in his absence, was that so wrong? — You think you might have succeeded when his hand falls from her waist. 

“I want to go home.” 

The words escape before you can stop them and you lean forward to place your now empty glass on the table before you. Taehyun’s frown returns, and you feel him shift under your hand. “But we just got here? I thought you wanted to-” — “I changed my mind.” You firmly state, not tearing your gaze from Beomgyu as you watch his jaw clench. 

You had gotten what you came here for. A small, but noticeable reaction, one that you’d created. Now all that remained was to safely evacuate before he had the chance to approach you. — With that you rise to your feet, blinking as blood rushes to your head. Taehyun is quick to follow as he gulps down the last of his drink. 

“Hey, wait are you-” His protests are lost on you as you head for the door. Through the corner of your eye you catch Beomgyu’s dark figure moving, coming closer. You quicken your pace, desperate to get away from a situation you had caused yourself. And you were so close, the door handle almost within reach when suddenly, a hand wrapped around your wrist.

You freeze. Their grip is firm, unwavering and demanding as they tug you backward. This was it, this had been a mistake. One temporary rush of confidence had led you to believe that you were actually in control. And now you were about to pay the price for your foolish actions. With your heart in your throat, you turn. 

It’s Taehyun. 

His expression is tense and guarded. It seemed he finally reached his peak. The warmth in his eyes feels distant as he regards you with a narrowed gaze. “What’s going on with you?” He spits the words out, and though you can tell that he’s trying his hardest to appear stoic, you can see the concern swirling in his irises. 

“You want one thing then the next, you’re making no sense and I…” You stop listening, his rambling becomes background noise when you catch Beomgyu not far behind him. Dark strands falling across his face, the rings on his fingers glimmering under the lights as he runs them through his hair. He’s stopped, and you wonder why. 

Your gaze shifts between Taehyun’s worried expression and his motionless one. In that moment, you realize just how much power Beomgyu holds over you, the extreme lengths he makes you go to just to end up hurt in the end. — You didn’t want to feel like that anymore. 

“Taehyun.” His endless rambling is cut short when his name leaves your lips. His eyes, despite the conflict buried within them, are nothing like Beomgyu’s. No, his eyes are gentle, even like this, even when they shouldn’t be. Even when you didn’t deserve it. Your gaze flickers over to Beomgyu one last time before they return to him. 

“Can you kiss me?” 

taglist ✎... @liaatiny @Izzyy-stuff @Saejinniestar @Hyunelixbun @lunesdesire @n0-thisispatrick @lickingan0rchid @tyunderella @fancypeacepersona @hyunj00 @hwang-choon @soohashits @xylatox @lilbrorufr @ezeert @minji-willstay @yeoningz @beombunni @lickingan0rchid @buttrry @buttercreamerie @bangtanuniversa @dawngyu @shuichi-sama @sthwaaberry @leeminhosairfryer @v1shwa-xo @qeeun-didi @biteyoubiteme @alex-is-sleeping @yeonjunnie @soobmeongie

(if your tag is not working please check your settings to make sure that your blog is not hidden!)

→ want to get notified whenever a new dream is published? join my TAGLIST ᰔ © all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[tojimybelovedd]

smut fanfic abt nerd!gojo x reader doing their first after they went a big fight at college? 😏🤭

Angry sex

Waaah! my first request im so nervouss😓😓 From what i understand, Nerdjo and fem!User had a fight and once at home they did their first time as kinda.. angry sex????

ihihihi i like this 😋😋 I'll try my best, ofc correct me if this wasn't what you had in mind 🥹

Hypnosis: Satoru and User had an argument about some stupid things about some exams i mean, it's not that important for the fanfic! and yeah uhh, the moment they are at home they end up being angry and freaky😋

Nerdjo x Popular!Fem!User ; jujutsu kaisen college au

Warning: malexfemale ; angry sex fem! receiving ; mean Nerdjo ; nsfw ; mdni

You really don't know how you ended up in this situation. the moment before you were arguing, him and his nerdy comments, "erm... actually 🤓☝️" that made you roll your eyes and retort with some insult. And now, you don't have time to get into your shared apartment - damn whoever had the idea of splitting the apartment costs and living together - that Satoru is all over you, his hungry lips on yours and his strong arms holding you pressed against the wall.

"are you stupid? you know that if I tell you something it is scientifically correct" he hisses against your lips, brows furrowed, eyes angry. If you weren't pissed off too, you'd think he was extremely hot. But in that moment though, the only thing you want to do is slap him and fucking kiss him.

The reason for your fight? One of the popular kids in school, a fool who even remotely thought he had a chance with you. and you, just as stupidly, smiled and giggled as if you were appreciating his advances. "Fucking nerd—do you think if I knew he was flirting I would flirt back?" you spit, just as nervously. But God, the sexual tension between you is so thick. "Are you sure you're not the stupid one?"

Let's face it, that wasn't very smart of you, but is it your fault for being so unaware of the effect you have on people? For a popular girl, you're pretty naive, and Saforu has always loved that. Well, until now.

With a huff, Satoru lifts you up by your thighs and carries (read, throws) you to the couch in your living room, his lips immediately on your neck, biting and sucking. You've never seen him like this, so hungry for you, so bold. "The only stupid thing I have is you" He murmurs on your neck, moving his lips down and kissing your collarbone, nibbling it, making you gasp.

"But don't worry, I'll fuck the stupidity out of you" with those words, his hands move down to undo the button of your jeans, slipping his hand into your panties. You hiss, your hands reaching for his hair to pull. "I should be the one to fuck the jealousy out of—fuck" you arch your back as his fingers not so delicately rub between your folds.

He laughs, a mocking laugh, and you feel your cheeks redden slightly. After all, you're soaking wet. Soaking wet from arguing with Satoru. How pathetic can that be? "All this for me, sweet? are you getting off on being insulted by me? adorable, really" His fingers slide easily inside you, his rhythm fast and mean. It doesn't take long before your clothes fall to the floor, leaving you naked beneath him.

"Shut up, stupid nerd" you almost growl, your words interrupted by a groan "You're not joking either, I can feel how hard you are" your foot She teases his hard cock and almost whimpers. Cute.

But he doesn't seem to like it. Removing his fingers from your pussy, a trail of your juices connecting from his fingers to your hole, shivers running through your body. "This is what seeing you with other losers has on me."

As if he wasn't lame enough, but you don't express that thought. Biting your lip you watch him take off his shirt, admiring his muscles and causing a smirk to form on his lips. "Do you like what you see mh?" and with those words, he takes off his pants and boxers.

oh my god. his cock is huge. maybe the biggest you've ever seen. seeing your expression, Satoru feels a rush of pride. he's the one who makes you feel this way, not some sports addict. But then, you realize something.

"Wait—are we really doing this?” your voice shakes for a moment and suddenly you’re nervous. it’s your first time. But to Satoru it doesn't really seem to matter. "You think you're so smart, and then you ask me questions like that? Don't worry your pretty little head and let me do it."

His hand grabs your ankle and he pulls it over his shoulder, your legs now open in front of him, his cock hard and dripping, dying to enter you. "Now relax, I'll make you forget about that fucking jock" and in an instant, Satoru is inside you. You're already wet, so it goes in easily, but it hurts.

a pain that makes you moan and arch your back in an almost obscene way. "Fucking asshole! at least go slow—shit" You moan, your body slamming against his, your moans filling the room. Satoru doesn't respond, instead he increases the force of his thrusts, a punishing pace, probably.

"God—if I knew fucking you would feel this good, I would have done it a long time ago," he smirks, pushing your legs against your chest, almost doubling you over and his cock hits so perfectly that point inside you that makes you see stars. "I bet none of those popular guys you were fucking around with got laid that good, did they? this nerd's dick makes you feel so good, doesn't it?"

In the meantime, you can't even formulate a concrete sentence, only moans and whimpers come out of your lips and his degrading words do nothing but make you feel even more disgusted. You didn't know you loved this this much.

"That's right, moan for my cock. You won't even be able to rest your ass on a chair when I'm done with you," Satoru says. It's not a threat, but a promise. Moving closer to your neck, he peppers him with kisses, marking your skin and biting it. "So everyone," he moans between kisses, "will know the popular girl is with the nerdy loser."

Not that you mind. Satoru's jealousy is so hot. It makes you want to make him jealous more. You feel his hips shaking against you, you feel him hardening more, his cock swelling inside your spongy walls, your mouth opening in a silent moan. "Toru! damn it—I'm close, so damn close"

Your words seem to awaken another strength inside Satoru, who starts moving his hips again and fucking you so damn hard, chasing your orgasm. "Come on, pretty, give me what I know you want to give me. you're so close, I feel you so fucking tight"

with those words, you come, moaning and writhing in his arms. and you feel it too, as he swells inside you, before filling you with his seed. Falling on top of you, Satoru is panting and seems in much better spirits. "See pretty? It's scientifically proven that fucking improves your mood. Don't you feel better? Because I definitely feel better"

you can't hold back a laugh, pulling his hair lightly, he's still deep inside you. "I should make you jealous more often, you fucking nerd."

woahhh that's crazy!!! i never wrote a nsfw like this and I know, the end is kinda rushed buuut, understand me!

i hope you like it yall<33💕

[loverboykirstein]

After biting the bullet i just need to ask for more sam🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ im in love with the way u wrote it.

Preferably with dom sam and afab reader. If u write stuff like it maybe some high confessions to esch other that turn into smut. The thought of sam doing everything to pleasure her outside of sex but him being quite greedy while doing it makes me go crazy so if it could be something like this, i would actually marry u in an instant😭

I never requested anything like this so i hope this is okey!! If u have some questions please please text me about it🙇‍♀️ i hope u have a lovely day whenever u may see this and thank u for your writing.

hello my love, ask and you shall receive ᯓᡣ𐭩

smoke sessions // dom!sam

sam (sdv) x afab!reader

wc: 7832

mdni -> unprotected sex, overstimulation, referenced past trauma/ab*sive relationships, teasing, oral (f receiving), drug use (marijuana)

*** it wasn’t until your story was over that you realized how much you had smoked, way more than you had told yourself you would, everything moving just a little bit slower. 

he had already rolled another, kept his eyes locked on you as he grabbed two small bottles of wine out of your fridge, scratching the roots of your hair for a split second on his way back to his too-close position on your worn out couch. 

your drowsy eyes lingering too long on him, heartbeat in your throat as you caught his, staring back at you with those stupid eyes and that stupid face and you couldn’t figure out why it was suddenly so hot in the room and why your hands were kind of clammy and- 

oh. oh. 

fuck. 

“so,” he finally blinked, snapping the rubber band on his wrist. 

“so,” you giggled, unable to help the sheer amount of nervousness running through you, like a teenager in… 

…love…? ***

 ᥫ᭡。

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

“good GOD sam what the FUCK?!” you yelled at him, half to tears as you held your purple sword between the two of you. 

eyes puffy and red, voice cracking as your fragile hands struggled with the weight of crashing adrenaline. 

“two thing- three things,” he sighed, kicking his shoes off and lining them up by the door. 

“one, since when have you had this fucking beast,” he laughed, taking your sword from your hands and placing it back by your door. 

“two, you gave me a key to your house, dumbass,” you looked at his keys, still in the door. classic. no wonder he just now came around. 

“three, since when do you not answer your phone?”. 

ah. that thing. 

“actually, one more thing, why the hell are you crying?” 

damn it. 

“sam i-”. 

“also, when was the last time you ate? or showered or-”

“sam i kno-”. 

“you scared me half to death you kn-”. 

“SAMSON,”. 

you had never once raised your voice at him, or anyone in the valley for that matter. you scared yourself, covering your face as soon as you said it. 

looking at each other like a deer in the headlights, frozen in time. 

“i’m sorry i-” you started the clock again, gravity no longer struggling against the weight of the silence your cabin held. 

“no no im sorry i shouldn’t have i-” he sighed, turning around and walking out your front door. 

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. why do i fucking ruin everything every goddamn ti- 

three knocks on your door, not even fully closed, stopping your tears from falling again. 

“hi, can i come in?” he poked his head around the opening, shit eating grin plastered on his face. 

all you could do was laugh, the first time you had laughed in a while. in a long fucking time. 

you waved him in, body already heavy enough on its own, begging to be held in the corner of your couch, not even bothering to make the trek to your bedroom most nights. 

“can we start with one question at a time?” he practically pleaded, the softest you had heard his voice in months. 

a silent nod, not even bothering to sit up all the way. 

you didn’t want to answer anything, you didn’t want to talk at all. 

“where have you been?” you could feel the pain in his voice, nearly snapping like a string pulled too tight, strummed one too many times. 

“aw not even gonna ask me about my sword? lame,” you huffed, hoping you would be able to avoid the inevitable just a little bit longer. 

“okay fine, since when have you had that fucking beast?” 

a small tug on your lips, knowing he would eventually always come around and cave in. 

you found the strength to sit up, knowing his favorite stories were yours from the mines. his eyes would always glimmer, the most animated faces that could bring a laugh out of anyone, even George. 

“wait- before you start, you down?” he held up his fake headphone case, and you knew exactly what he had brought. 

“sam you are god in the flesh yes please,”. 

he raised an eyebrow at you, a small laugh under his breath as he unzipped the case that you knew would bring an ounce of relief, one that wouldn’t leave you begging for mercy and ginger ale as you opened your eyes. 

was it the best idea? probably not. your self-inflected cage near impossible to hold on to, each drag another lock undone. 

your mouth moved faster than your brain, begging soul and childish heart trying to take their chance at escape.

 to be heard, by more than tile in your shower, by more than your chickens who obviously didn’t know what you were ever saying. by the seeds you planted, the rocks you broke open. by someone. 

i can keep it together. yeah, a couple drags won’t hurt. just enough to stop crying for a bit. that’s the last thing he needs to see. 

“here,” he handed you the perfectly wrapped blunt, sealed with a swipe of his tongue and calloused fingertips. 

his hands a little shaky, silver rings along his fingers worn from prolonged wear, same tarnished look as the bracelets you’d never once seen him take off. 

“you got a light?” you asked, looking around to see if you had one lying around, too lazy to make a designated home for most of the things inside your near empty cabin. 

in a single flick of his thumb, the lighter you gifted him on a whim ignited in his hand. wrapped in a watercolor mix of blues and greens, the same colors as his eyes. 

he never put two and two together,  but when Pam had stopped by the only liquor store between the valley and the desert, of course you joined her. 

met at the counter with a few snacks you hoped would keep you awake in the mines, as well as some drinks for after,  the colors flashed in the corner of your eye, placing it in front of the weathered cashier before she could tell you your total. 

you couldn’t figure out why you bought it so quickly until you saw him next, mouth running dry at the thought. you hadn’t done that for sebastian, or abigail, for anyone, and you weren’t nearly as close to him as you were to his best friends. well, at the time. 

before the concert happened, the four of you were nearly inseparable. rushing to get your farm work done by the early afternoon, enough time to yourself before you would all settle in sebastian’s room, nearly yelling at each other over a never ending game at his table. 

that’s when things flipped upside down, sideways, and every which way other than level, fight or flight activated since. a mix of both, really, settling on a third option of avoidance and breakdown, burying yourself in the hole you didn’t realize you were almost out of. 

a hastily written letter in your mailbox, stating you had to be at the bus stop by 4, no later, plans for the day flipped upside down. 

you hadn’t been to a concert in forever, and for their band? you wouldn’t miss that for the world. 

it didn’t help that there was something different about him when he was on stage, a sultry kind of confidence that made your heart beat funny and your stomach flip. 

comfortable, like he really did belong on a stage, born for it. eyes glued to yours for a little too long, verses ending in near whines, others in heart wrenching screams, the truest form of him you had ever seen. 

that stupid smirk on his face as he did it, really selling the show. he was made for it, it came naturally. you weren’t sure how the other girls at the show weren’t fawning over him, hoping to grab his attention and sneak backstage. 

when he pulled his eyes off you to focus on his bright red guitar, energy radiating off of him as if he couldn’t stay still for a second longer, even if he tried, you were startled back to the present. 

a slight weight on your chest when the air finally came back to your lungs, as if you had been holding it that whole time. 

a tingling under your skin, fingertips buzzing with god knows what, surely just the reverberation from the speakers, right? 

too lost in the show to remember you were in a crowd, just about everyone to your back. guard down, brain fuzzy. 

disappointed that their set ended so soon, or it at least felt like it did, the three of them walking behind the curtain and out of your sight. 

then he tapped your shoulder before you could even turn around, the one who pushed you to the valley in the first place. 

the final straw, leaving with your phone and your wallet, and anything of importance inside a single duffle bag, you took the key from the letter you finally unsealed at your desk. 

you wished you had opened it so much sooner, to visit him in his fragile state, hell to see him for the first time in over a decade. but he still managed to mail you that letter, somehow figuring out the correct address. 

you didn’t open the letter until you felt like it, forgetting it in your desk drawer as it was the only place you could keep anything mostly private. 

a locked journal, grandpa’s letter, and a mess of papers and sticky notes, poor attempts at keeping your work in some kind of order, too many projects and a skeleton crew. all about profit, don’t give a single shit about us, figures. 

one fight too many, the lowest blows he had ever thrown your way. you would have sworn you killed a man with the way he spoke down to you, all because he found out your new supervisor was a younger man. 

it didn’t matter that you explained he didn’t even live in Zuzu, had a beautiful family, and had only spoken to you via email, you were ruining everything. 

you were the problem, the worst disease the universe had ever known, an ungrateful liar who was lucky to have him. 

you mirrored your mother too much, or maybe your father, a disappointment at best, too broken and scarred to be loved by anything at all. let alone sincerely. 

you were too difficult, too much. emotional, crazy, worthless. and you were lucky to have him, after all he swore up and down that he was the only one who would ever put up with you. 

the words you could eat, swallow them down, throw them up behind closed doors. they would spill out mixed with bile and tears, the bathroom fan and shower running to hide enough of the noise. 

a never ending cycle, to sit down, shut up, and learn your place. to do as you were told, to look the way you were told, to be what you were told. but when his palm swiped clear across your face, you couldn’t stomach it. 

you were just so easy to mold into whatever he pleased, never given the chance to grow a spine, just a bundle of nerves and blood on the floor. 

living in greyscale, you weren’t even sure if you were alive. and you weren’t exactly sure if you wanted to be. 

so when a year of color, vibrant and warm, shut down at the turn of your head, so did you. 

you had nearly forgotten entirely, building yourself up, to some degree at least. able to walk, to get out of bed every day, to do things you never thought possible. a fairytale, in a way. 

“long time no see, huh?” his eyes were the same swirling mess you remembered, each word pulling out another vertebrae of your makeshift spine you built without direction. 

linked in all the wrong places, nerves all jumbled up. and it hurt like a goddamn bitch to have them pulled out so rough, shattering in his grasp. 

“didn’t think you could leave forever, could you? blocking all my numbers only got you so far. see you’ve turned into quite the whore haven’t you? did i teach you nothing?” 

circling, spinning, dizzy, fainting, everything in between and nothing at all. you didn’t know where you were, devoid of color and vision blurred no matter how fucking hard you tried. 

lungs empty, collapsing as he clawed his way through your chest to break you down again. 

you couldn’t remember how, or when you got back to the valley, all you could do was mimic other forms, using the chatter of the people who accepted you as one of them, poorly shoving yourself into a unrecognizable form scarred to the brink of death. 

you had lied to sam over and over and over, saying you had come down with something, you had a lot of stuff to catch up on, any half-assed excuse you could to hide your truest form away. 

to slip back into all your bad habits, only taking enough time to do the bare necessities for the farm and the animals, not bothering with much else. 

too much happening to begin to comprehend, endless pit of dread  on top of so many feelings that left you confused and scared in a good way, sam’s unwavering stare on that stage replaying over and over, so many conflicting wires that your system crashed and all the circuits burned out. 

blocking every number until your ears nearly bled, over and over and over, unknown numbers driving you insane. 

paranoid that he would find you, that a piece of him had followed you, it was just too fucking much. 

you didn’t even know how long it had really been, a week, a month? 

you didn’t feel human anymore, you hadn’t since that earth shattering ending. 

but there it was, color, in the form of flame illuminating the eyes that matched the vessel in his hand, waiting for you to lean in and pull the smoke in. 

frozen, blunt between your shaking fingers, your ears stopped their ringing. 

“are you-” he tilted his head to the side, eyebrows slightly pulled together as he watched your face with so much intent. 

blinking hard, remembering that he couldn’t read your mind, that you were probably freaking him out for no good reason, you nodded your head and brought the kindest of offerings to your lips. 

“you’re a shit liar, i hope you know that,” he almost laughed, that stupid fucking smile on his face as he watched yours, and you swore you burned alive on the spot. 

hyper focused, holding that damned lighter to the end, watching as you pulled the smoke in, filling your lungs you didn’t think you had anymore. 

trying your best to remember to take it slow, handing it off to him after your first long inhale, the sweetest hint of vanilla at the end. 

he remembered? 

it was the same taste as it was that first time you hung out for real, out by the quarry for no good reason. just talking, so much talking, hands in pockets and steps slow, following nothing at all, just the urge to keep silence at bay a little bit longer. 

that evening a core memory, all happy afterwards. the first time you weren’t carrying around the weight of disaster on your shoulders, on your chest. 

“alright, nowwwww,” he said through some heavy breathing, smoke held for a little too long. 

“okay, okay fine,”. 

you tried your best to make the tale exciting, about the serpents you fought and how you found that first prismatic shard. 

that there was some sort of magic in the desert, a hint left on the cave walls to make an offering to whoever was out there, the best sword you had ever laid eyes on. 

was the purple a little obnoxious? sure, but it was also a reminder of your strength, at least enough to find one of the rarest minerals out there, something you were able to do on your own. 

it wasn’t until your story was over that you realized how much you had smoked, way more than you had told yourself you would, everything moving just a little bit slower. 

he had already rolled another, kept his eyes locked on you as he grabbed two small bottles of wine out of your fridge, scratching the roots of your hair for a split second on his way back to his too-close position on your worn out couch. 

your drowsy eyes lingering too long on him, heartbeat in your throat as you caught his, staring back at you with those stupid eyes and that stupid face and you couldn’t figure out why it was suddenly so hot in the room and why your hands were kind of clammy and- 

oh. oh. 

fuck. 

“so,” he finally blinked, snapping the rubber band on his wrist. 

“so,” you giggled, unable to help the sheer amount of nervousness running through you, like a teenager in… 

…love…? 

“listen, i’m sorry i scared you, i really didn’t mean to, i just got worried, y’know?” he shrugged, clouded in what seemed like…embarrassment? 

“it’s okay, i should have told you, i-”

“did i do something wrong? if i said something you should’ve just slapped me or something y-”

“no, no no, it wasn’t anything you did, i promise,” you grabbed his hand, like it was an instinct or something, trying your best to make it clear to him that it really wasn’t his fault at all. 

it made your stomach flutter, brain stop working for a second. you dropped it after a second too long, clearing your throat after. 

“what’s going on, then? i can’t just sit here and know somethings wrong and not at least try and do something, i just-”

“okay, okay, but you keep this between us okay?” your eyes pleaded, begging him to keep that part of you away from everyone, everything. 

what am i doing? 

“yes ma’am,” he nodded, nothing but seriousness in his voice, adjusting towards you to express his full attention, something he could rarely do. 

unable to meet his eyes, you worked up the nerve, or whatever it was holding you back, to yank on the string holding your pride together. you placed it in his hand, unraveled, bloodied, gone for good. 

it wasn’t linear, a jumbled mess of words spilling out faster than you could catch them. every syllable foreign to you, telling some sort of story that didn’t seem to have much plot, back and forth between before and after, you weren’t even sure. 

you were so fucking scared, never telling a soul about the years you spent in your own little hell, never even bothering to ask for help.

so small, so frail, spilling out all the nastiest parts of your memory, your being, onto your living room floor. a mess you weren’t sure how to clean up, stains permanent in the hardwood. 

but through it all you were so busy thinking about the nerves that wracked through you, suffocated by his fixated stare, holding that stupid string to your pride so delicately in his hand, just in case you wanted it back. 

you knew you couldn’t have it back, too deformed in your gutted state, embarrassed and ashamed of who you claimed to be, fraudulent identity and all. 

but it wasn’t the way your vocal cords spit the leftover bits of your soul out, it was realizing how close he was, and how the way he was looking at you made you feel hot. 

how grabbing his hand for a moment in time made you feel awkward, catching you off guard. 

the overwhelming heat of it all, face scalding, stammering your words into makeshift sentences, if you could even call them that. 

“so, um, yeah. als-” don’t say anything else don’t don’t don’t. 

“you’ve been here this whole time, alone, and petrified? you know i would’ve come stay with you, or help on the farm or something,” he spoke soft and stern, a bubbly sort of mix that made you hiccup. “he lives in Zuzu? what part?” 

his eyes squinted a little, knuckles white in angered fists, unnoticed before. how long have they been like that? 

“south side, right off the main highway. kinda by the..” 

right by the skatepark. 

“skatepark”. 

you nodded silently, connecting the fact that they probably know each other. 

“i’ll take care of it. don’t worry,”. he handed you a gentle smile, a cover up for his tensed jaw and hard blinks. “and i’ll get’cha a new phone, number, all that good stuff, m’kay,”. 

he’s just…being really nice? 

you tried your best to ignore that same feeling bubbling in your chest, the butterflies, the tingling in your fingers, the nerves. 

“you don’t have to, it’s okay i really sh-”

“hush. let me take care of you,”. 

seven words that melted into you on contact, seeping into your bloodstream like chaos. 

he…wants to take care…of me? 

“sam i-”

“ah ah ah- shush, missy,”. he inched a little closer, pointing a playful finger in your face, just to tap it on the tip of your nose. 

he’s…fuck what the hell is going on with me? 

“i want to take care of you, i’d walk to the ends of the damn earth if it meant you didn’t go MIA again,”. 

where is this coming from? am i hearing things? 

“you’ve carried all…this…your whole life. let me help, ‘kay?” 

how do i set it down? how do i let you take this knowing how hard it is to bear? 

why do you care so much? 

don’t you have your own things to worry about? what about vincent? your dad? yourself? 

for me? i haven’t done anything in return, i just, what is going ON. 

“i care because-” 

oh my god did i say that out loud ?

“yes, you did, can you listen to me for a minute, angel?” 

angel? who- i- wait a minute. 

“hey, look at me,” he grabbed your hand, mirroring your grasp from earlier, except his was steady and strong, no sign of letting go. 

“listen, i didn’t want to ruin anything, but i-”

oh my god i’m fucking- 

“sam i think im in love with you,”. 

shit. 

out of breath, startled, frozen in fear at your lack of restraint, lack of control. first you hand him your pride, and then admit what you’d been pushing down this whole time? 

so desperate to be heard, and he had open ears the whole time. 

you didn’t want to be a burden, the one who only always brought the mood down, the one everyone felt like they needed to worry about. choosing to push it down, push it away, so that they didn’t. 

but you’d been pushing this down too, nervous system sounding the alarms when feelings that even resembled something romantic began to surface, real or not. 

you denied every comment from abigail, seb, alex, even vincent, thinking they were just trying to set you up because you guys got along. 

really well. 

and hung out all the time. 

but this, you at your lowest, pride removed, walls crumbled, truest form you could show, mixed with a mouth that ran a little bit faster than your brain did, overflowing before you even knew what you were saying. 

your hand still in his, breath held as you waited for one of two life altering answers. to keep him by you, or for things to be uncomfortable from this moment forward. 

what the fuck was i thinking? what if he doesn’t feel the same? oh god what about penny- god am i a fucking moron? 

“oh thank fucking god,” he sighed, yanking you from your awkward distance from him to his lap, the tightest hug ever known, his face buried in the crook of your neck. 

in something near fantasy, the gravity stopped again, but this time to watch as its work finally paid off, no longer playing tug of war with your souls to make one of you confess. 

wrapping your fingers in his hair at the base of his head, praying that nothing would tear him away even if the entire valley was on fire. 

“i don’t think you know how long i’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” his breath tickled the exposed skin of your neck, pulling nothing but a few small giggles out of your chest. 

“mmm since you were eye-fucking me at the show?” you don’t know where this buzzing confidence came from, another sentence too fast for your rationale to halt. 

“well yes, but, more like right after that night at the quarry,”. 

“that was like, almost a year ago!” you pulled back to get a look at his face, hoping it would be a blushing mess, that you would get to see that beaming smile you loved so dearly. 

your drawback reluctantly pulling him away from your skin, his face was cocky. 

“i know,” he said it so, certain, like you just told him the sky was blue. “i knew you’d be mine. didn’t have to rush a thing,”. 

“oh? and how’d you know that?” you tilted your head a little to the side, eyebrow raised, acting like you didn’t feel the same, that you do remember that night like it was yesterday. 

“oh please,” he rolled his eyes, drama queen, “you think i couldn’t tell?” 

“oh what ever,” you scoffed, unaware that you were really doing anything to make it obvious, hell it wasn’t even obvious to you. 

“you’re cute,” he kissed the tip of your nose, pulling you back in as if he was afraid to lose you, arms wrapped so tight that it felt like he was putting you back together. 

“shush,” you mumbled into his ear, breath hot on his neck, swearing you felt him shiver at the feeling. 

“mmm, nah, don’t think so,” you felt him pinch at your sides a little, making you squirm around in his lap a little too much, your giggles filling his heart to the brim, spilling over and filling his lungs with such warmth he didn’t know how to contain it. 

but he knew what he was doing, knowing you were ticklish at the sides, holding back a faint groan at the innocence of your actions, the mild amount of friction making his stoned brain all fuzzy. 

first, you said those words he had been dying to hear, second, here you were in his lap, giggling into his ear and hips flush with his. 

he couldn’t stop it, the tent in his pants obvious in a matter of seconds. 

and of course you couldn’t hold back the slight gasp as you felt it press against you, the smallest little moan as you settled into it. 

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, waiting for the other to say something, to do something. 

making up his mind, his hands gripped your hips hard, moving your achy little cunt against his length. 

a hum reverberated in your chest, settling into the slow ruts, his hands guiding the way. 

“feel good, princess?” his voice an octave lower, settling perfectly down in your core. 

“mhmm,” you tried to go a little faster, a little harder, something. “wan’ more,”. 

“yeah? use your words baby,”. his grip in full control, holding back your attempt to satiate the need that seemingly came out of nowhere. 

you couldn’t even remember the last time you had been touched by someone else, just the occasional work of your fingers as your mind wandered, letting it take you wherever it wanted. 

being high, being nervous made it feel all the more overwhelming, body encased in his scent and subtly dominate disposition. 

“wan’ more of you, please,”. 

he let your hips roll harder, longer, just a few times before he held you still again, frustrated whimper spilling from your lips. 

“sammyyy, quit bein’ mean,”. his grip too firm, too steady, nothing but a devilish giggle in his throat. 

“you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart?” 

you could tell his restraint was slipping, needing those words of approval from you before he made you his, before he gave into his greedy nature and take what was his all along. 

“yes, please sammy, wanna feel ya,”. 

you didn’t recognize yourself, begging with such pity that his eyes grew tenfold, tummy pulling tight at the complete control you handed him so easily. 

one swift move, pushing himself off the couch while wrapping your legs around him, your giggles bouncing around in his skull at a million miles an hour. 

he moved with such haste, desperate to hear you, to feel you, to see you fall apart under him, to claim you for good. 

he laid you down on your bed, gently resting your frame against the plush mattress. the only light in the room was your bedside lamp and the moonlight seeping through your windows, the two of you the only bodies left on earth. 

“promise you’ll be good f’me?” he purred in your ear, fingertips dancing on your thighs. 

“mhm, i will,”. nodding with frustration, willing to do just about anything to satiate the fire already consuming your walls, twitching around nothing at all. 

your beady eyes so innocently begging, completely unaware of the man you were bringing out of him, something downright feral. 

“good girl,” he swiped his tongue across his top teeth, sharpened canines shimmering under the dim lights. 

the phrase stirred something up inside you, eyes wide and pleading, body his. 

crawling on top of you, he pulled you up the mattress, looking down at the exposed skin of your tummy, the sudden tightness of your shirt barely hiding a thing. 

his hand brushing up against your clothed clit, just enough pressure to make the frustration slither down to the tips of your toes. 

“sammyyy,” you whined with a puppy dog stare, bottom lip jutted to really sell it to him. 

“yes?” that stupid smirk on his face, every move calculated as if he’d rehearsed it a hundred times over. 

“please touch me,”. you couldn’t sound any more desperate, almost pathetic, just the way he wanted you. 

“i am touching you, my love,”. 

his purrs were criminal, so thick that it saturated your bloodstream, your brain forced into slow motion. 

“asshole,” you whimpered, trying to grab his wrist and move him where you wanted, too desperate to play the teasing game. 

“excuse me?” he shook his wrist free, grabbing the sides of your face and forcing you to look into the blown out pupils of his, so sickeningly exciting. “that’s not how we get what we want now, is it?” 

“i know you want it too,” you kept whining, eyes glossy in need, pushing your thighs together in hopes it would do something. 

“be careful what you wish for, darling,”. the laugh he barely let out was almost sinister, he knew how badly you wanted it, and how he was going to abuse that. 

he sat up straight, yanking your shorts and underwear off in one swift motion, pushing one of your thighs open with his knee that was once at your side. 

your top teeth bruising your bottom lip, holding back a giggle that was mixed with every emotion you could think of, all of it bubbling in your chest. 

the middle finger of his right hand swiping up your slit as he came back down, greedy lips wanting yours again. 

your body melting into his touch, gentle traces driving you fucking. insane. 

“more-” you tried to beg through his feverish kisses, barely giving you enough room to breathe. so in unison, in tune, made for each other. 

as he swallowed up your words, you felt his long finger dip inside you, just past your begging hole that was so desperate to be filled. 

your whimpers settling on his tongue, sweet enough to give him a sugar rush, to make him crave so much more, you were driving him insane. 

the amount of nights he had fucked his fist to the idea of you, to the sight of you in that too-short skirt you wore at the festival of the moonlight jellies, ocean breeze exposing just a little too much, completely unknowing. 

the way the dress you adorned on spirits eve pushed your tits up, nearly spilling out as he jumpscared you in the depths of the maze. 

the shirts you wore at game nights, perfume clouding his every move as it radiated off of your pulse points. a little too low cut, a little too big, on full display to him as you leaned over the table. 

the blush on your face when you gifted him every single time, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you looked up at him for approval. 

and the swimsuit you wore at the beach, sitting next to him as he watched vincent play in the water, instantly throbbing as he watched you oblige to his little brothers wishes for you to come play with him. 

the urge to make you a mother right then and there, watching your top hold on for dear life as you lifted vincent out of the water and throwing him back in, your ass on full display as your back was turned to him. 

you drove him fucking crazy. every time you got a little to close to alex, hell even seb, something hot boiled under his flesh, jealousy. 

you were his, whether you knew that or not. he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

and here you were under him, tight walls wrapped around his finger, begging him for more more more. 

a dream, no less, you were finally where he wanted you this whole time, since the first time he laid eyes on you. 

“still wan’ more?” he whispered in your ear, peppering kisses on the side of your neck as he began to pump in and out of you, sigh of relief spilling from your parted lips. 

you nodded, eyes closed, soaking in everything you could. 

you felt his teeth sink into the spots he so gently kissed, sucking bruises dark enough to last for days in spots impossible to cover, down until he was halted by the collar of your shirt. 

a frustrated whimper from your lungs as he pulled his finger out of you, tearing your shirt off in a blur, goosebump ridden skin on full display. 

every inch of you exposed to him in the dim lighting, ethereal. 

“good god you are beautiful,” breathtaking, his words nearly a whisper, trailing kisses down your torso. 

hooded eyes looked up at you as he dressed every inch of you in admiration, practically praising the ground you walked on. 

he would give you the world if you asked, hell the whole universe and everything beyond it. 

at this moment in time, all he wanted to do was fuck you senseless, to make you finish on him again and again and again even after you swore it was too much. 

a babbling mess, shaking, marked up, his. 

as his kisses lead to the bottom of your stomach, flush with your hips, the silver dog-tag chain he promised to never take off grazed against your heat, the metal ice cold. 

he looked up at you with hunger, a man starved for days waiting for the chance to satiate his thirst. a single nod, teeth tugging on your kiss-bitten bottom lip. 

and god did he give you more, drinking you up before you could take back your approval, heaven sent. 

his tongue writing i love you’s and i want you’s all over, teasing your greedy hole that was desperately waiting to be filled with him. 

he was messy, your slick all over him, forgetting to breathe. his fingers dug into the plush of your thighs, fingers nearly turning white at the pressure. 

he let you trap him, encase him in your grasp, gasps that held moans hostage the strength he needed to forget every human need, the only thing on his mind was to please. 

your fingers tangled up in his hair, pushing his head into you as if he could get any closer. 

as his tongue lapped at your swollen cunt, his nose pressed against your clit, pulling that ache in your core a little closer, the knot a little tighter.  

he could tell by the growing arch in your back, the pressure in which your thighs encased him, the heightened pace of your whimpers. 

he wouldn’t stop even if the whole world relied on it, you were so close at just the work of his tongue, the mild vibrations from his moans, the sting of his fingers losing feeling on your thighs. 

“b-baby- pl-please don’t s-stop,”. your words choppy and mere stutters, cut off by the swirl his tongue made around your swollen clit, just to find its way back to your sopping hole. 

he listened, that was his plan, he wasn’t going to stop. not until your body remembered every inch of him, knew it belonged to him. 

another string on his guitar pulled a little too tight, you came, and came hard. 

fighting against the grip he had on you, tugging on the thick blonde strands wrapped around your fingers, trying your best to grind against his face, but he listened, not. stopping. 

incoherent words mixed in with your breathless moans and high pitched whimpers, rutting his own hips against your mattress as he drank up every drop you had to offer him, the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. 

he slowly pulled away as your legs began to calm, a moment of peace as you caught your breath for a short second. 

“s’fuckin good,” hunger only fueled by the meal you had offered him, he needed more of you, and he needed it now. 

he pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor before taking his place on top of you again, missing his lips on yours. 

the light glimmered on him, toned and strong, adorned with piercings you had no idea he had. 

dermals placed carefully on his hips, metal bars through his nipples, you were drooling. 

his mouth on yours, sharing the taste of you as he groped every inch of you he could. 

swallowing up your moans, you needed him and you needed him now. 

reaching down, you unbuckled his belt, jeans right after. 

his queue to strip, to expose himself as much as you, eyes stuck to you as he adjusted to yank his jeans down in unison with his boxers. 

his dick slapped against him, your eyes widening as a sliver of fear shook your heart, knowing it would be a stretch. 

as expected, a piercing adorned his dripping tip, all red and swollen and begging. 

“sammy please,” you whimpered as he rubbed his thumb over his leaking head, eyes hooded and breath heavy. 

“please what, baby?” he hummed, lining himself up to your throbbing cunt, tracing his head up and down your slit, so slow you thought your heart might collapse. 

“just fuck me already,” you barked, patience run thin and you swore you would die right then and there if he didn’t fuck you stupid. 

thrill and fear mixed in your throat, slack-jawed as he began to dip inside, the sting of the stretch making your body run hot, whimpers of pain as you adjusted to his sheer size. 

“you can take it, baby, can’t you?” 

he mustered up every ounce of strength he had to sound collected, even though the grip of your walls was breaking him apart. 

so warm, so wet, so much better than he could have ever dreamt. 

“ ‘s a lot,” unsure of even yourself, could you really take it?

one hand of his leaving his fingerprints on your bones, the other grabbed the sides of your face, forcing your glossed over eyes to face his, to listen. 

“isn’t this what you begged for, dirty girl?” the cockiest look on his face, forcing you to look at him as he inched his way inside, swallowing him up so perfectly, fingers pressing your teeth against the insides of your cheeks. 

your face ran hot, embarrassed at your sudden defeat, your cunt obviously wanting more. 

more, more, more. 

“use your words, bunny, c’mon,” he pressed his forehead against yours, teeth sharp as they barely held back a cruel laugh that was simmering all the way down to his cock. 

“mhm, y-yes,” you were able to mumble out of your lips that were smushed together, a slight nod against his too-tight grip. 

“are you going to be good?” 

without a second to respond, a single buck of his hips as he bruised the sweetest bit of your cervix. you swore he was in your throat, so incredibly full. 

head falling back into the rustled up blankets, one of your legs swung over his broad shoulder, going deeper. 

the moans he rattled out of you were beyond unholy, something you didn’t even think you were capable of. 

your gummy walls sucked him off so well, molded to the shape of him upon entry. 

your body didn’t feel real. each thrust of need, desperation, a year's worth of pent up feelings spilling out at the expense of your sopping wet pussy. 

“s’ fuckin tight my god,”. his tone was downright feral, teeth pinned together as strands of his hair fell onto his forehead. 

he looked so strong, teaching your cells that you belonged to him now. 

“don’t get all- f-fucking hell, shy on me, c-c’mon,”. barely able to process his words, so lost in the high of his cock pounding into you over, and over, and over again, like his damn life depended on it. 

his hand around your throat, fingers closing off the rush of blood to your fuzzy little brain, snapped out of your fucked-out daze. 

“you’re f-f-fucking mine, y-you understand?” the colorful mix of his eyes overtaken by the dark, void of all color as he fell pussy-drunk. 

“do you understand?” his grip got tighter, your eyes rolling back into your skull, the only thing you could focus on was the violent approach of your next climax. 

somehow you forced a meek nod, his grip relaxing enough for the blood to come back through, creaming his length without any warning. 

“s-s- oh my- f-fucking hell- ah!” 

incoherent at best, babbles and whimpers as your legs shook, overstimulation hitting you like a train. 

“there you go, suckin’ me off s’good, such a good girl,”. he didn’t falter once, pace steady and ruthless, leaving you drooling and cock-drunk. 

he titled his head to the ceiling, chest heaving and heart racing, mad at himself for not doing this earlier, but so, so fucking starstruck that he actually got to be inside you. 

you felt him twitch inside you, how his grip tightened on you, you knew he was close despite your drunken state. 

he wanted to fill you up so badly, but he would be fucking damned if he let you off with only two orgasms, he wanted to fuck you downright dumb. 

“got another f’me? i ain’t done with you baby,”. 

“ ‘s too much- s-sammy t-too m-much,” you felt the prick of tears at the corners of your eyes, fingertips buzzing as they dug into your bedding. 

he didn’t care. too focused on the way your tits bounced with each bone-breaking thrust, the sounds you made for him so easily, the way you let him use you. 

“i’m not done with you,” his voice more of a growl, fitting for the sharp ends of his canines and primal nature, walls fluttering around him as if they were begging for punishment. 

pulling your other leg up, a squeal as he somehow hit a whole new world inside of you, stars and colored specks blinding you. 

knees by your temples, the back of your thighs burning as you were folded in two. 

“ha- c’see myself inside ya- f-fuck,”. 

all 9 and a half inches of him swallowed up inside, bottom of your tummy bulging with each slam of his hips on your ass. 

sobbing on his cock, wasted on the lewd squelching of your syrup guiding him in and out, in and out, over and over again. 

his hand somehow managed to press on the bulge he created, your tears streaming down into your hair, drooling babbles as your body short circuited, synapses unable to grasp the sheer stimulus of it all. 

“gonna fill ya up, s-stuff ya full ‘f me,”. the twitching impossible to ignore, the weight of him stuffing you to the brim, met with your fluttering hole. 

pace beginning to falter, the final push needed for you to spill all over him again, body lost in another world as you rode out your third high. 

guttural moans filled the air of your room, hot white ribbons coated your battered walls. stuffing you full, writing every word he wished he would have said sooner deep inside. 

every i love you, i miss you, you’re all i’ve ever wanted, i wrote this song for you, please don’t go, all of it. 

with the spasms of his hips calmed, he let your legs down gently, one at a time. 

color flooding back to his eyes, that soft smile taking over once again. 

his gentle hand wiped away the tear-stains on your face, brushing away the fly-aways of your tousled hair from your sweat-pricked skin. 

still deep inside, still hard, barely heard whimpers as he moved around, he didn’t want a drop to spill out of you. 

“you’re an angel,” he hummed, pressing a few gentle kisses to your forehead, last one planted to the tip of your nose. 

all you could do was giggle, brain so mushy that you didn’t even bother to deny his sweetness. his adoration. 

“let’s get’cha cleaned up, yeah? you did so good for me,”. a few more gentle kisses scattered along your face, satisfied hum at your sugar-coated giggles, the smile uncontrolled on your lips. 

a hiss through his teeth as he slid out of you, a wince of your own at the sudden emptiness, almost feeling wrong. 

he wrapped both arms around you, locking your legs around his torso, lifting you in one swift movement. too fucked-out to even question how he could lift you nearly deadweight, snuggling your face in the crook of his neck the moment you were upright. 

letting him carry you to the bathroom, he flipped the light switch on and set you down gently on the toilet as he fell to his knees to turn the faucet for your bathtub. 

petting your leg as he waited for the water to warm, closing the drain when it was just the way he wanted it. 

“be right back, m’kay?” he kissed the crown of your head, leaving you all alone for the first time in hours. 

 head in your hands, elbows pressed into your aching thighs, trying to process what just happened. 

from a void of breakdown and destruction, to falling apart at the seams willingly, to sobbing on sam’s cock, all too much for your heart to process, for your mind to wrap around. 

“hi pretty,” his hums gentle, crouching down to feed you some water, baby sips. 

“hi,” you felt all shy, his presence all-consuming, giggling near uncontrollably. 

you felt yourself coming down from your high, both highs, drowsy and spacey, but comfortable. 

“so…” he drug out, flush across the bridge of his nose. 

“so?” you mocked playfully, running your fingers through his hair. 

“first….i think you’d look real pretty with a lil’ collar…” he trailed, almost embarrassed. “nothin crazy…just our little secret y’know?” 

the idea had crossed your mind before, but this time it made your swollen pussy twitch despite its battered state. 

his. 

“second….i love you. i always have,”.

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

hello! sorry this took a while, i hope it's what you were looking for!

i have a few other requests that are in the works, those will be coming soon.

i would also love to build off of this... longfic maybe???

thanks for stopping by! i love you all! mwuah!!

currently waiting for my ring @whoreforsam

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧

⭑.ᐟ lmk if you would like to be tagged in future works!

   ᥫ᭡。

[nerdsnuff]

haii!! Im bringing the typa greed they talk about in the bible (*´ー｀*) can iiii get 55 burgers 55 fries 55 nugget 55 cola 55 erm errm damon drabble for valentines..? It dont have to be finished/posted at valentines i just want something something okiee thank!!!!

anything for u my most favorite down bad damon fan!! (^_^) im sorry it’s so short… but happy valentines!

damon maitsu’s ultimate talent is debating, not dating. which is why despite being the self proclaimed smart guy, he’s struggling (almost terribly). not to a point where it’s annoying or a hassle in any way though, thankfully it’s stupidly endearing.

after every choice, he thinks back to his parents. oh how sweet and kind his parents are to give him advice on how to not mess up a date.

‘make sure to be a gentleman compliment them!’ his mother says. then, his dad perks up. ‘yeah, hit ‘em with a good pickup line or two!’ he exclaimed cheerfully. right at the doorframe his mother adjusts his suit while his dad watches with a smile. her hands run along the soft fabric, a material both she and her husband are familiar with as they made this very suit he’s wearing tonight. ‘don’t forget what we’ve told you, alright?’ his mother says.

he absolutely did not forget.

“ah, hello? earth to damon?” you call out, waving your hand in front of him. he quickly blinks, seeming restless.

“huh? oh, yeah?” he perks, you quirk your brows. you look at him confused, though you’re actually more worried.

“you were definitely spacing out, are you okay? is this date… boring?” you asked nervously. you don’t want to hear him agree.

“no! not at all. i- uh-” his eyes wonder around, from you to the table then everything else. he’s looking for something, anything that can… oh he’s got just the thing. “a-are you a rose? cause you’re as beautiful as ever” he lets out an awkward laugh. he noticed the jar of roses sitting in the middle of the table, and decided to use his dad’s advice now.

‘don’t forget to hit ‘em with a good pickup line or two!’

suddenly you laugh. bright and stunning — you laughed at his stupid joke. his heart was struck.

“hahah! damon, where’d that come from? that’s… sweet. thank you” you smile at him, and reach out to hold his hand. “i didn’t know you were one for pickup lines… hm. i like your outfit, i think it really suits you” you giggle, and so does he. oh how your heart feels warm too. “actually that counts more as a pun, huh?”

he shakes his head. “no, it’s okay. it has the same effect. but thank you, my parents made it for me”

you gave a surprised expression. “really? wow! they must be very talented. no wonder their son is too”

damon blushes again. “yeah they’re… they’re pretty good. thank you for acknowledging my talent, even if it’s boring sometimes”

“no way!” you protest. “you’re anything but boring. c’mon, how about you tell me a little more about how you got into debate and all, let me hear all about you, maitsu”

god damon was gonna be a flustered mess by the end of this dinner date. the one thing his parents didn’t tell him to do was keep his composure. so… maybe it’s okay if he loses it a little, right?

“okay. well, it all started when i was in elementary…”

[lilygoofywritingcave]

Happy Valentine's Day !!!!

Oh, it seems a certain member in Slaughterhouse has sent you a letter, are you brave enough to open it?

Spoilers warning for character names

Misaki, the ever silly contract killer

"To Y/N, the chaos to my mayhem (or Whatever Romantic Crap I’m Supposed to Say),

Alright, so listen, uhh I was just planning on sending you a pic of a raccoon holding a heart and call it a day, BUT APPARENTLY that’s not “romantic” enough. Smh. So now I’m here, struggling to put actual words together instead of just sending you a keyboard smash and hoping you get the vibe.

So. Uh. Lily. You menace. Do you have ANY idea what you've done to me?? I’ll see something stupid n immediately think, “Oh, Y/N would laugh at this.” Like. That’s so weird. That’s EMBARRASSING. I save memes just to send you at 3AM, YOU are why Im having sleep deprivation (the good kind ofc). I would smile at my phone like an absolute idiot whenever your name pops up. It’s sick. You did this to me.

Also. Explain why you write me like I’m some cool badass when I’m just some gremlin with a knife and a rifle. Like. Hello??? Ma’am???? I do crimes, that's no news, but then you come along with your little fics n suddenly I feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m not just the sum of all the bad things I’ve done. I don’t know how to process that. Or you. You make my brain short-circuit without needing to doomscroll Tiktok.

ANYWAY. Point is, you’re mine now. No take-backs. Stuck with me forever, I will continue to be the most annoying gremlin in your life, sending you unhinged voice notes, and remind you every day that you matter. Because you do. A lot. (EW I HATE HOW SAPPY THAT SOUNDED MOVE ON PLS...)

...Okay, I think I’ve reached my emotional limit. I need to go set something on fire to balance this out. Or at least, like, flip a table.

Happy Valentine’s, silly.

Misaki Katsuo"

V, cold outside but cares more than you know

"To dear Y/N, Valentine’s Day seems to demand people to express affection for each other, something flowery and poetic. Although I consider traditions like that often exaggerated, but it felt unfair for you. So, I’ll keep this simple, for your sake.

You... matter to me, more than I would want to admit. You’ve become a part of my life in a way I didn’t expect, it is frankly troublesome how often my thoughts wander to you. And despite my usual preference for order, I don’t mind the chaos you bring. In fact… I think I’d miss it if it were gone.

I could compose some poetical metaphor, comparing you to the moon, the stars, or whatever romantic nonsense one is expected to write in a letter such as this, but I won’t waste your time.

Just know that if you ever need me, whether for something important or as simple as spending time together, you have only to say the word and I'll always be there.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N.

"Valentin Viljoen"

Angel, sweet and dangerous like a rose

To My Love, Happy Valentine’s Day.

I know, I know, cheesy, cliché, overhyped day… but I don’t care. Today is just another excuse for me to remind you how much you mean to me, and I’ll take it.

You, you are the one thing in my life that feels real, no cameras, no flashing lights, no expectations to be perfect. Just us, and I need that more than I ever realized.

I’m not easy to love, am I? Always getting caught up in my work, in my image, in making sure everything and everyone is okay… but you? You remind me that I’m more than what people see. That I’m allowed to breathe, to be a little selfish, to take up space in someone's life without feeling guilty.

You make me feel like I’m enough. And I don’t know if I’ve ever felt that before.

So, for today, no, for always, I want you to know that I love you. In the quiet moments, in the chaos, in every way I know how. I love you when I get overwhelmed and you remind me to rest. I love you when you make me laugh so hard I forget whatever stress was eating at me. I love you when you’re just, you.

I don’t say it enough, but thank you, for seeing me, for staying, for being the best thing to ever happen to me.

Now, let’s turn off our phones, ignore the world for a while, and just be together. That’s all I really want.

Your Angel,

Maria de la Rosa

And lastly, the devil himself, Ronin

to my dearest darlin’ Y/N,

there’s always a certain rhythm to a heartbeat. steady, but unique for everyone. funny little thing, really. you press your fingers just right, and there it is: life, thumpin’ away under the fragile skin. but oh, how delicate it is. how easy it Is to destroy

. tell me darlin', have you ever wonder, what it takes to keep that aorta singin’? how much someone’s got Left in ‘em before rotting away? or how love can sink its teeth in deep, turning even the purest souls dark, twisting the light ‘til it don’t shine the same no more?

ironic, ain't it? how even the worst of ‘em, either gutted or broken, still has a heart. just like yours, still beating, lively as ever, a reminder that you’re here and you’re real. that you’re eVerythin’, my everything.

and isn't that a beautiful thing? to havE you readin’ this, seeing the devil puttin' his feelings into words. there ain't no poetrY sweet enough, no god powerful enough to take it away.

Over and over, i think about you, about the way you laugh, the way you exist. about how this world feels a little less, rotten with you in it. Understand this, darlin', you got me by your side. for as long as that pretty little heart of yours beats, you and i will face whatever this shitty world throws at us, together.

Don't ever forget that. And don’t think for a second i’d ever let you go. Remember this and Listen close. It's always been you and you only. Nothing will ever change that.

happy valentine’s, darlin’.

—r. beaufort

(P/S: you know how i play, let's get that pretty brain to work)

[stalky-arsen]

ik what you mean. it is very contradictory.

but there's literally a bounty quest where he just look at birds and he's chill.

Plus I think there was a thing about him being a mercenary or something before becoming a union commander ? maybe i got it wrong but the union isn't necessarily a place he feels threatens all the time. he mostly has to be careful about ops chief not doing some stupid shenanigans like bringing a reporter to a dangerous zone for fame (im looking at david)

my own interpretation of falken may be different from canon, but essentially, he was a rogue before, and was an absolute wreck before sander came in and brought him in the union. they grew up very close until sander betrayed him and the union. but the thing is, he is still grateful to sander because he brought him in an healthier environment where he can still be vigilant since it's his job now but get times to relax since he's not alone anymore. sure, betrayal can come from anywhere but there's plenty of people to count on in the union such as laura, drew, raven, etc.

sander and gaius may be one of the traitors but it's very little compared to the people that genuily wants to help others.

the way dislyte's writing treats falken annoys me so much bc it's literally just like. "before sander came into his life he was a wreck. he'd taught himself that he could only rely on himself and had to be vigilant and strong at all times. this was a bad way to live and it is a good thing that sander found him and brought him out of poverty and helped his family so he wouldn't have to live like that anymore." and i'll be nodding and smiling and agreeing with them like "fuck man that's rough i'm glad he finally found room to rest and breathe and let his guard down a little"

and then they'll turn around and go "so when sander betrayed him, he realised he had to be vigilant and on-edge so that he'll never be betrayed again. and this is good because he is now a commander in the esper union and his vigilance will protect him and his comrades and the only downside is that he is a little unapproachable and lonely. yep yep yep this is good he is in a very good place mentally."

like maybe i'm just a pessimist but. that can't be good for him, right?? i can't be the only person who looks at his divinate's description (word for word: "Falken took his old friend's betrayal more as a warning than as a shock. The heavens may be vast, but one cannot ignore the ground beneath one's feet. Not letting even a sliver of evil cloud his vision, the hawk examines his surroundings dispassionately, lets not a single grain of sand go unobserved.") and goes "that's not a healthy mindset", right???? like he may believe this is good and right and that this outlook is good, but he's also never really been in a place where he could have his walls down until sander came. it really does feel like he's reverting back to the survival tactics he'd learned pre-union, when he was taking on everything people threw at him just to survive, but now the game's acting like it's a good thing because now he's with the union or whatever.

sure, in this world you have to be vigilant at times to make sure you don't get fucking murdered by miramon or whatever. but like... not all the time. how is he when there isn't a single threat?? how is he during leisure time?? at gatherings?? at night when he's trying to sleep?? from what we see of him, he's still somewhat tense, just not with any threats to justify that tension. most fics i've read have treated this as some kind of harmless quirk, as does the writing (if it's not outright romanticising it), but like,, this is genuinely a harmful mindset, especially if left unchecked.

like..... i'm not insane, right?? i'm not losing my mind for no reason over this random-ass 4-star?? it's so unbelievably frustrating bc i feel like this is such an obvious aspect of falken but i haven't seen ANYONE talk about it beyond, again, just some kind of small quirk to his character and not the absolutely awful unhealthy coping mechanism it is.

idk man. smash like for more cool epic falken content or whatever. it's just insane bc he's my favourite character in the game but i haven't seen many people talk abt him beyond his looks or his relationship with sander. which is,, fine, sander's a major part of his story ((can't really speak on his looks as i'm not a men liker)), but i am begging people to look beyond that and realise falken is at his core a deeply unhealthy person whose shitty coping mechanisms are good for those around him, and thus he never really has to change them bc if they help others, what's the harm??

[heartorbit]

figure skating set right now please. thanks

[arcanewebs]

personal take on fem tsukasa

[ganondoodle]

since tumblr always has to suffer my personal vents and breakdowns and rants and annoyances you get the most wips and pics of unfinished stuff, im sure that makes up for it

the (unfinished) shiekah arm concepts that made me want to explode and i dont think im gonna work on again

[mercymermaid]

guess who finally watched the supercut.....

(spoilers, obviously 💀)

so, the fic will be a lot easier to start; the redemption era starts while glitch is pinned down under baby's amazing car, and liz has a rare moment of "im not giving into your stupid stereotypes, you literal walking piece of code." she can have her badass "human violence" line, because god she ATE so hard, but... she won't kill him. killing him would just prove him right, and if elizabeth afton is anything, it's stubborn. she survived two attacks by this oversized rabbit, and she'd live to rub it in his damn face. i feel like at first she'd probably keep him alive out of spite, that spur-of-the-moment anger and pettiness, but she lets him stay under the car for funsies. he's a robot whose soul is stored in a hard drive, he can survive being a tad crushed. womp womp.

but then comes the problem; baby. if this is a glitchtrap redemption fic, then adding in baby would split the focus, and then it'd be redeeming two animatronics with varying human traumas... i changed my mind, there's enough room in this town for both of them, dual redemption duo!! they can bond over their hatred for humans, this is justice for blood and tears since it didn't make it into the movie supercut.

i guess they have a "deep" talk and deescalate the situation, and since liz didn't kill glitch, baby doesn't try killing liz, so liz doesn't kill baby. call it an everyone lives au!

then they make their escape, and the whole place goes boom. maybe they escape in the nick of time after some tight circumstances that are the catalyst for character development, maybe they watch it blow up from outside as a symbol of new beginnings, who knows, tldr they survive.

where do they go now? fredbear's is literally gone, baby would die before going back to the entertainment center... the only choice is liz's apartment, temporarily. they call up nate, asking for a raisin pizza, because they can't fit baby, glitchtrap, AND the four animatronics in the car without breaking the entire thing. nate arrives, is obviously flabbergasted at the fact that his work office is crumbling down. maybe the main gang can crash with him, if liz needs the extra space.

from there it'd be fun character development (jazz hands), breaking down baby and glitch's walls, convincing them that humanity is not the problem (liz explains the concept of capitalism), yadda yadda, fun adventures as they bond and become friends. maybe as a treat, i can bring vanny back so she actually becomes important... triple redemption.

but.... the problem comes with the fact that henry survived. he restarts the fredbear chain under a new name, nate gets rehired, blah blah. that's where the issue comes in, because unless nate keeps it quiet from the rest, glitchtrap and liz would probably debunk the entire thing immediately, given they both had experiences with "afton". maybe that'd be even more fun, the events of the original musical plus three characters, two of which know like all of the tea already. who knows.

im gonna name this sick au!! triple redemption au? flesh and bone brigade au (i love glitch's insults to humans)? i'll stick with the triple redemption au

i need to actually write this oh god

re!glitchtrap angst because he's my favorite despite being such an asshole

spoilers for virus

what the hell did william do to him to turn him into a psycopath?? he's an ai, the whole "kidnap children" didn't come from nowhere, there's some input that generated that response

then william locked glitchtrap away for god knows how long until liz found him

and the entirety of virus (the song) is him going "humanity is shit, so logically y'all must go"

like if they showed him kindness than the fear and anger he's come to expect, he might be more cooperative

like bonnie claiming liz was pregnant did make him pause, he has the morals to hear someone out

he like literally questions if humans are actually good because he's convinced they aren't but if he just got a chance to see the world for its pros rather than being blinded by his own anger

like the entire promise verse

william betrayed him, or someone did

especially the whole "talk your wording back, that's what humans do"

william claimed superiority over glitch despite their bonding