#non c&d stuff

[sourtrot]

THXX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! flowers and confetti for all of you! 💋🥳

[noodleblade]

ngl there is a perverse, sick joy in knowing the next fic i post will disappoint about 95% of you

thats how i truly remember that my fics are for me first:3

[yusuke-of-valla]

Guitar cheat code: change the key until you get the four chords you can actually play

[gobbluthbutagirl]

now why did somebody just screenshot a post about my brother and his refusal to quit the dunkin donuts that he’s worked at for six years that i had made non-rebloggable and post it on their blog to write a really long reply to it and then @ me at the end. instant block. Cannot emphasize enough how much i do not care

[spaceycat]

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𐙚 ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ...  ╰┈➤ 𝚋𝚘𝚋 𝚛𝚎𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚜 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: E.T by katy perry (3:26) // 𝄞⨾ ࣪𓍢ִ໋ " you're from a whole 'nother world, a different dimension.. " 𖤐.ᐟ

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) literally always taking care of you if sentry or void comes out during sex he's ensuring that none of them hurt you or degraded you in a harmful way, will be at your beck and call for hours on end.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) his torso, he likes the way you ogle at him when his shirt peaks up a little bit - and how surprised you were when you realised that he was fully ripped, and how you like to drag your hands over his abs when he's on top of you.

he likes your hands a lot, he's completely addicted to your touch and obsessed by the way you feel him - he likes your hands in his mouth, wrapped around his cock or pushing at his shoulders when you get overstimulated.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) bob is just HELLA messy with cum, the man has a spit kink you cannot tell me that he doesn't adore messy sex and smearing his cum on your stomach, face tits, inner thighs or just fully eating it out of you afterwards and lapping it up like. A. DOG.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) he kind of gets off on the fact that other people can hear the two of you, therefore him being kind of loud during sex. people commonly infantilise him and say that he's not capable of certain things, so showing that he can fuck gives him an ego booster - even if that means walker staring at him awkwardly for the entire week like he didn't hear bob deriving unholy sounds from you from the other side of the tower.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) i feel like bob is very limited with his experiences and hasn't really had the time to really learn about himself or the needs of his partner, (i talk about this in i) but pre-serum bob used to turn to hookups a shit ton but never did do much outside p in v and stuff.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) sentry's favourite position is missionary, being able to push your legs to your chest and fuck is cock so deep into you makes him so goddamn happy.

the void's favourite position is you on your knees in doggy style, or if he places you across the bed, your head draped over the edge of it so he can use your throat as his own personal fucktoy, but let's be for real he's pathetic as fuck.

but bob, ever so simple bob loves for you to ride him or missionary, he loves seeing your pretty little face and understand that he is what's making you feel good and likes the power control when you're on top of him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) he likes it to be funny sometimes if it's really intimate and non-judgemental, but usually he'll think that he's doing something wrong and gets caught up in his own head.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) bob doesn't care about hair in the fucking slightest, he'll clean himself up every so often - but to be honest i dont think he gives a shit about hair on you either.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) he values romance and intimacy so much because it takes a lot for him to fully trust someone in a way like this, because i full heartedly believe that when bob was addicted/pre-serum he just stuck to hookups and didn't want to burden someone with all of his issues and trauma by getting into a relationship but wanted the high and pleasure that came with sex. (i need to hug and kiss him better)

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) he believes that his hands not enough to suffice sometimes, but he'll resort to jerking off when it becomes desperate times - he likes it messy but still placed his shirt in his teeth so he doesnt drool everywhere or get cum on his shirt.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) spit kink!! we all saw that man literally drooling when he was about to sneeze, and you cannot tell me he practically drools during sex or when you go down on him - or when he's going down on you it's messy and wet and we love that.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) in your bedroom or shower is his favourite place, but when no one else is around he'll settle for the couch in the living room or the kitchen counter.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) he loves you and can get pretty turned on with you around but specifically when you're complimenting him or touching him - even if its a light brush against his arm that you don't notice, he sure does.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) hurt you, like at all - he hates the idea of injuring you during sex when it's supposed to be romantic and intimate and also with all of his past he really is deterred from that idea and is constantly checking with you that you're okay/feel good.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) GIVING 100%, he does like it when you go down on him but cmon! he's a drooling mess when he goes down on him, sure its messy and sloppy because he's inexperienced but it adds to it .

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) sentry is fast and praising (but in a mocking way) bob is slow and sensual (because ofc he is) void is fast, rough and degrading

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) i think bob mainly does quickies as sentry because sentry's a busy guy and doesn't have time to dwell on you, he has bigger things to do outside of you - bob takes it slow and sensual like i said before!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) very limited exhibitionism, he'll fuck you in the watchtower's open spaces as long as no one is there, he's open to atleast trying something in the bedroom with you a atleast once because he likes to experiment with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) with that sentry serum... he can go on forever (typically more so if sentry is the one who's in charge) but i feel like bob is just majorly touch starved all the time and can cum pretty easily.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) a strap on guys idk who said that.. ya'll dabble in pegging, i feel it - it just fucks the angst out of bob. i feel like he's rlly open to toys in the bedroom then gets a little insecure about how much pleasure its giving you and replaces the silicone.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) sentry and void like to mock and tease when they're balls deep inside of you or have their fingers shoved into your pussy, but bob doesn't really do that all that often - he still does give the occasional one liner but thats just accidental sometimes, soft dom bob does some teasing im sure of it, but he's mainly trying to commit the experience to his mind so whatever he says, he says.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) like i said in D (dirty secret) this man loves to be loud and makes sure that people can hear the two of you, mainly moans and whimpers from him along with a shit ton of praises and pleas.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) uhhh i've kind of said a lot of wack shit for this entire alphabet, but mainly the entire pegging thing i covered in T.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) tell me why i think it increased because of the sentry serum, he was already pretty big pre-serum, but i think it mainly just got girthier and increased like an inch or a half maybe !!!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) BOB. YEARNS. he's a touch starved intimate man, like if you're looking so pretty during a morning meeting he's just staring at you like a lost puppy the entire time and is actively trying to ignore the growing bulge in his pants, this tied with the super serum and this man's sex drive is high.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) i feel like bob doesn't sleep well in general, but with people - specifically with you, he sleeps way better. but he always makes sure you are asleep before him, even if that means staying up for a couple more hours.

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly | 13

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinking!reader (f)

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language, reader smokes weed and drinks alcohol, reader being silly and bold (yas girl), rafe does and sells coke, verbal tension, kinda angsty but also fluff, a little reader x random guy, rafe showing mixed signals/jealousy/possessiveness/DENIAL/heavy mood swings (but of course he doesn't name it as such), mentions of vomiting (non-graphic), also subtle implication of rafe having sexual thoughts about reader (just hints + non-graphic)

✿ S U M M A R Y O F L A S T P A R T ✿ thursday afternoon, cara helped you pick out an outfit for the party and she even managed to get you excited for the night. on friday, after econ class, you and rafe had a little run-in with ruthie and her bsf gracie (his ex-fwb/whatever), where you managed to politely get ruthie to shut her mouth. later, rafe got pissed when he found out topper had texted you and offered to give you a ride to the party. topper claimed he was just mad bc of the ruthie situation and he'd talk to him later. surprisingly, rafe texted you after school saying he would pick you up instead, claiming topper decided on taking ruthie and her friends. but the truth was (revealed in the extra scene UNKNOWN to reader) rafe got so mad with topper that he'd basically told topper to go fuck himself, leaving topper to drive ruthie's gang. rafe decides to drive you himself bc you're the only one he actually tolerates rn and also bc he doesn't wanna hear you whine about not having gotten a ride.

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 8k+ (sorry)

✿ A / N ✿ guys, this was one of the hardest things to write and i'm the most stupid person alive for not having made a plot outline of KMS beforehand (i didn't even think i'd get past the second chapter ngl). i tried to include different kind of scenes and moods for the party setting without making it seem like pressuring reader and rafe into a dynamic that'd feels off or rushed but still i feel like i kinda made it flop. please please please lmk what you think and i hope you enjoy reading it anyway <3

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

W E E K O N E // F R I D A Y

Deep breath, brain off. I got this.

DON’T FORGET TO EXHALE.

“Hey,” you said with a hesitant smile as you opened the passenger door of the black Mercedes. And oh boy, you felt just as awkward as you had on Monday, the first time you two had actually talked.

Because this? This was a whole different level. A whole fucking different league. Because holy shit—this wasn’t school-related. You weren’t being forced to meet for a project or anything.

No, this was completely casual.

Even if Rafe’s invite to Kelce’s party was supposed to get you out of your shell and (quote) “fuck your brain out” (which—absolutely not happening tonight, wtf), he was still here voluntarily.

It had been his decision to invite you. His decision to come pick you up. And honestly? All the other stuff—the project meetups the past few days—were all initiated by him too (which, thinking about it now, made you a pretty shitty project partner, oops).

And that was what made this whole situation feel so intimate. It created this weirdly charged atmosphere that clearly only you seemed to notice (of course the ungodly hour didn’t help, nor did the fact that he was picking you up FROM YOUR HOUSE and now you were alone together in his car hahaha(very funny, yeah)).

Rafe turned down the music (some Kendrick Lamar track) and looked you over with a crooked smile (we’re talking full-on checking you out). “Damn, you really dressed up.”

DHGHCNGXFUDNJFKNGIKCDFJS.

A COMPLIMENT, RIGHT???

You smiled shyly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Still, you raised a brow and met his blue eyes with a playful glimmer. “I guess I look like shit the other days then.”

Rafe scoffed, amused. “Shit, jusy say ‘thank you’ and shut your ass.”

IT WAS A COMPLIMENT.

Okay but—NOPE GIRL, NOT TONIGHT.

“Thanks,” you said, the butterflies in your stomach going absolutely feral. And then, feeling bad for not having something to say about his looks, you added: “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

OKAY SLOW IT DOWN, BRAIN OFF DOESN’T MEAN ZERO FILTERS. STAY COOL!!!!

But still, it was true. Rafe looked fucking good. The fresh aftershave lingering in the air? HOLY SHIT. But even that couldn’t top the look itself.

He was wearing a loose white button-up—partially unbuttoned (MHM)—with subtle vertical stripes, a silver chain resting against his collarbones, and whatever was under the shirt, your eyes didn’t even dare look at, afraid he’d catch you staring. And his hair wasn’t slicked back today—he had it styled into curtain bangs AND OVMFKNJDNVKFDHLSK.

Rafe raised his brows, smiling. “Yeah?”

OH UM OKAY??? NO DUMB COMMENT OR SOME SHIT???

You gave a surprised smile, awkward as hell, and your eyes flicked to his hair. “Yeah, I mean… your hair's different, right? Suits you better than the other one.”

You had to literally bite your tongue to stop yourself from backtracking, from explaining that the other hairstyle wasn’t bad per se, but this one just looked better without sounding like—

“Shit, is that a compliment or a polite insult?” Rafe shot back with a smug teasing grin, starting the engine.

Cool cool I’ll just get out of the car and crawl back into bed now, thanks.

You fiddled with the strap of your bag in your lap and gave a nervous smile. “A positive observation.”

“A—Jesus Christ, your game is ass,” Rafe said with a chuckle as he pulled out of your driveway.

You bit the inside of your cheek, hesitating. Then (fuck it): “Who says I’m playing?”

Rafe shot you a quick look, his smile widening, something weird glimmering in his eyes, before he turned his attention back to the road.

Okay, sir????

“What?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Nothing.” Rafe shrugged, the smirk still on his face. “You ever even made out with a guy before?”

WHAT.

You furrowed your brows, painfully aware of the heat in your cheeks, and turned your gaze to the lights flashing by outside the window. “Can we not.”

“So that’s a no.”

NO I HAVEN’T YOU ASSHOLE.

“Why does that even matter?” you asked frowning.

But of course Rafe didn’t notice—or maybe he did, and he enjoyed it. In the reflection of the window, you could see his smug-ass smile.

“Well, maybe you should deal with that first before you try to go all in tonight,” he said, eyes still on the road.

And because you were REALLY not in the mood to listen to this kind of shit all night, you looked at him, clearly annoyed. “Okay, seriously, why are you so obsessed with my sex life or whether I get laid?”

WHEW GIRL OKAY.

Even Rafe gave you a quick, surprised glance, then let out this dumb little chuckle like what you said was so ridiculous. “Shit, that’s why you’re coming to the party tonight. So your crazy-ass brain can finally shut off.”

An uneasy feeling creeped up your chest—thoughts bubbling up, the sudden worry that maybe this whole thing was a joke to him. That you were just something to keep him busy tonight, some kind of project. But you pushed it down.

Actually, NO—you weren’t gonna let that sit. If he was really just here out of boredom, treating you like some throwaway experiment, then bye. He could take you right back home.

Because crush or not, you weren’t about to let him treat you like some kind of piñata.

“Okay, for real, this is getting on my nerves,” you said, and the sharpness in your voice? Yeah, he better hear it. “I know I have a problem with overthinking, okay? I know that. But getting drunk and letting some random guy rail me at a party?” You let out a dry laugh. “If you really think sex fixes everything, then you’ve got a way bigger problem than I do.”

You half-expected him to pull over and kick you out of the car (tbh, with Rafe you never knew), but instead he just scoffed, still looking at the road ahead. “See? That’s pent-up tension. A simple fling or a makeout would fix that.”

“Well, I guess, you can turn around then.”

Rafe laughed. “What?”

“You clearly invited me so some guy could get in my pants,” you said, shaking your head. Your voice was sharp, not exactly angry—more like fed up. “But that’s not gonna happen. So I might as well just stay home.”

Rafe glanced over at you, actual confusion on his face. “You actually going crazy right now?”

“No, you’re crazy for inviting me and acting like I’m—I don’t know, just some fucking project for tonight.” Your heart pounded hard in your chest, all the pressure you’d been holding in since this afternoon choosing now to break out. “Like, is that the plan? Throw me at one of your friends like I’m some kind of …sex doll?”

That thought had been hiding somewhere deep in your subconscious, and the fear that it might actually be true cracked through in the shakiness of your voice.

And now that it was out in the open—spoken, thought, real—your chest tightened, and whatever excitement you’d had about this night started twisting into—

“Holy shit, what?” Rafe looked over at you, visibly thrown off. “That’s actually insane.”

“Is it? Because that’s exactly what it feels like.”

Rafe didn’t say anything for a second. Just stared ahead with his jaw clenched. His brows twitched, then froze—his face unreadable, some emotion you couldn’t place.

Your heart was racing, nerves buzzing. You half expected him to turn the car around, drop you back off, maybe confirm your fear with some offhand joke.

But instead, his voice came quiet, serious: “Did Kelce or Topper put that shit in your head?”

You blinked. “What, no.”

“Then why the fuck would you think that?”

“I just told you.”

Silence. Just Travis Scott playing low in the background. Oh—and your fucking heart, hammering in your ears.

“If this is some pick-me girl attempt to—”

“No, what? Why would you even—okay, you know what, forget it,” you cut him off bitterly. “Clearly it’s impossible to have a normal conversation—”

“Jesus Christ, what would I even gain out of throwing you at some desperate fucker at a party, huh?” He motioned to himself with one hand, a pissed-off smile on his face. “As if I’m out here playing wingman for some asshole.”

Your knuckles hurt from how tightly you were gripping your bag. “Then I don’t get why you keep bringing it up.”

Rafe dragged a hand down his face, subtly shaking his head. “A joke, okay? It's just a fucking stupid joke, holy shit.” His voice was tight, barely holding back the tension, but there was a rough softness in it too. Like he was trying not to escalate. “Seriously, why do you spiral so hard over everything?”

“Because that’s what I do, okay?” You turned your body toward him, tapping your fingers against your temples like an actual maniac. “I overthink and spiral and if you keep repeating the same shit every fucking day, it doesn’t help—it just makes it worse, whether it’s a fucking joke or not.”

Rafe pulled the car over and cut the engine. For a second, you really thought he was gonna kick you out—but then you realized you were already parked in Kelce’s driveway.

Now he turned toward you, one arm resting on the steering wheel, brows furrowed deep. He pointed toward the house. “We’re gonna walk in there, Kelce’s gonna roll you a joint, and you’re gonna take the fattest fucking hit of your life. Then you’re gonna throw your goddamn brain in the trash and chill the fuck out.”

You blinked. Had he even listened to what you just—

He snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Fucking stop that. Seriously, I can hear the crazy-ass voices in your head.” He motioned to himself with a tense laugh. “Shit's making me nervous.”

And that—that utterly ridiculous idea that Rafe fucking Cameron felt nervous, and because of you—that made you let out a shocked, almost disbelieving laugh.

“You know,” you said, voice softer now with a hint of amusement, “telling me I’m crazy doesn’t actually help either.”

“Oh, fuck that,” Rafe muttered, no real bite in his tone, as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Get your ass out of the car before Kelce starts getting ideas. And neither of us wants to deal with that shit right now.”

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"Poor Top, now he has to deal with Ruthie’s bullshit," Kelce said as he leaned back on the couch, grinding the weed.

The three of you had settled on the back porch. No sign of guests yet (technically the party didn’t start till ten), but everything was already set up.

In the kitchen, there were all kinds of snacks in glass bowls, paper towels, and red cups everywhere, lit up like a club thanks to LED strips and fairy lights which also ran outside across the yard.

And of course, there was a whole damn bar—yes, Kelce’s family just casually had a legit bar in their backyard, with taps, shakers, and everything. It looked like a museum of alcohol. Four hookahs were set up in different corners, fully stocked with tobacco and coals, plus tables for beer pong and a pool filled with inflatable balls and flamingos.

And the wildest part of it all? The insane speaker system in the living room, hooked up through a network of cables so music played both inside and out.

Future was already blasting at a volume that felt like a preview of how loud shit was gonna get later. For now, though, it felt like the calm before the storm.

Which made the joint all the more welcome.

“More like his mom’s bullshit,” Rafe replied, taking a sip of his beer. “She won’t let him out of the office before ten.”

Kelce nodded and started rolling. “Oh yeah, right. That lady’s just straight up insane. Ruthie doesn’t even come close.”

“Shit, that bitch probably reminds him of his mom. That’s why he’s chasing after her in the first place,” Rafe said with a scoff.

Both of them chuckled at the same time, and for once, they actually seemed like friends—not like... bully and victim.

And honestly, you kinda felt like a third wheel.

“What about you? Cara showing up later or what?” Kelce asked, glancing over at you for a second before going back to rolling.

You were a little thrown by the question at first, then remembered—right, you’d talked about it in history class. With him and Topper, actually.

After Rafe had stormed off today, Topper had invited you to sit with them, and well, not wanting to be an asshole (especially since Topper had been so chill and polite), you’d joined them.

And it turned out, without Rafe around, both guys were actually decent company. Topper anyway, but even Kelce hadn’t seemed like such a loudmouth—just someone who liked to talk.

You nodded, smiling. “Yeah, she’s coming around twelve. If that’s cool.”

Kelce grinned. “Shii, of course. A hot girl’s always welcome.”

Even you had to smile at that because damn right, Cara was hot af.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe shift in his seat and scratch at his chin. "Dude, you done yet?"

"Perfection takes time, okay?" Kelce said, then turned to you. "You wanna lick it or should I?"

UM... He hadn’t even said it in a teasing tone but still like—

You shook your head with a polite smile. “You do it. I’ll probably mess it up.”

NO WAY were you gonna go over there and lick a joint in front of both of them like ?? excuse me???

“Your tongue game can’t be that bad,” Kelce said, but he went ahead and sealed the joint anyway.

PLEASE, the party hadn’t even started yet. Jesus.

“You want me to beat his ass?” Rafe asked with a deadpan expression, and you had NO idea if he was joking or being serious.

Either way—THE BUTTERFLIES WENT FERAL FOR THAT BECAUSE OMG WHAT???

Not sure what to say, you just let out a nervous chuckle and were thankful when Kelce jumped in, holding the finished joint up like a trophy. “No need for violence. This bad boy’s ready to be smoked.”

After Kelce gave you a quick rundown on how to hit it best (you knew from Cara, but he looked so excited to explain you didn’t wanna interrupt), you took a deep inhale and let the smoke roll through your lungs and—fuck, it scratched the hell out of your throat.

You really tried to hold it in, but you were already leaning forward and having a mini coughing fit.

Ugh. Classic.

“Dude, here,” Kelce said, holding your beer out to you.

You smiled awkwardly, eyes watery, still half-coughing, and took the bottle from him. Then, out of pure secondhand embarrassment, you started laughing—only to choke a bit on the beer and end up patting your chest. “Sorry.”

Kelce grinned, taking the joint back from you with a shrug. “It’s cool. Ask Rafe. Dude coughs up a whole lung every damn time.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe shot back, but even he had a little grin on his face, those blue eyes of his watching you with quiet amusement.

And you just smiled back, a soft giggle slipping out, your face finally relaxing. That whole insane argument in the car earlier? Not even worth thinking about anymore.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“Quit giggling,” Rafe said, hiding a smirk while mixing himself a Jäger-Bull drink in the kitchen.

It was just after 10, and where the house had stood quiet earlier, now it was packed with dozens of guests. The music had kicked up a notch.

Most of them you recognized from school or around town (just from seeing them though). Basically all frat boys, gym bros, wannabe influencer girls/self-proclaimed kook princesses, or gossiping drama queens.

In short: people you couldn’t stand.

And while Kelce played the perfect host—probably spending the next thirty minutes loudly greeting people and taking shots with half of them—you and Rafe had ducked into the kitchen.

And yeah, HE had asked you to come with him. Or, well, kind of. Said something along the lines of “Shit, let’s dip until the first zombie wave passes.”

Obviously, you’d followed him, because (A) it was the obvious choice, (B) who the hell else were you supposed to hang with??? and (C) ... you were way too high to argue anyway.

Ever since your second hit, your whole body had been wrapped in this soft, warm glow, your thoughts nearly (!!!) silenced, and you couldn’t stop smiling and giggling. You were probably looking at him with total heart-eyes right now, but honestly? You felt too good to care.

“Sorry, I just—” you let out another amused chuckle, grabbing some snacks from one of the glass bowls while watching his hands. “That was kinda petty.”

Rafe scoffed and flicked open the Jägermeister bottle. “Nah. If he acts like a little bitch, he gets treated like one.”

Oh, right, context:

Topper had shown up earlier—or more accurately, waddled in behind Ruthie and her girl gang. And surprise, surprise, the second they got what they wanted (aka a ride), they vanished into the bathroom. Poor Topper got left behind, dapping up Kelce while Rafe had stayed on the porch couch, holding his beer in his lap, only giving Topper a slight nod.

You, at least, had had the decency to give him a smile and a small wave—not even feeling awkward about the obvious tension between him and Rafe, which you seemed to be the cause of, but whatever (that joint had absolutely softened your brain).

Meaning, that Rafe had probably just wanted to get away from Topper more than he actually wanted to hang with you, but WHO CARED.

You raised your brows at him, amused. “What even happened though? I can’t believe you’re this pissed just ‘cause he drove Ruthie.”

“Shit, of course. That’s a fucked up move,” Rafe said, now cracking open a Red Bull.

“I don’t buy that,” you replied, cheeks warming a little when he met your eyes. “I mean, I can't believe you'd back down for Ruthie.”

He raised a brow. “You’re being nosy as fuck right now.”

“I mean you were already acting weird at school when Topper mentioned he’d give me a ride,” you said, and um, yeah, WHY did you say that?

Rafe paused, tilting his head slightly, his whole expression switching to defense mode. “Shit, you think this is about you or something?”

You chuckled (girl, get it together) and squinted at him. “I’m just saying, it’s kinda funny how Topper suddenly ends up driving Ruthie even though he told me earlier I didn’t have to worry about a ride. And then you text me, offering to drive instead.”

Okay, maybe you were pushing it a little too far because Rafe looked at you with a frown. "Okay, what the fuck are you trying to say, huh?" he scoffed, disbelief in his voice, gesturing to his chest with an irritated smile. "You think I’m jealous or some shit?"

His reaction just made you giggle (girl next time, just take one hit). “I don’t know—”

“Okay, fuck no, jesus, what the fuck.” Rafe cut you off, shaking his head and squinting like you were giving him a headache. He gestured toward you now. “I picked you up so you wouldn’t end up bitching to me about how Topper ditched you for Ruthie, alright?” Then he motioned between the two of you. “You’re not seriously getting the wrong idea here or anything, right?”

Your smile faded, and then, panicking that your face might give something away, you just shook your head with a baffled little laugh. “What? No, oh my god, I just—I was just saying—”

“Yo, Rafe, there you are!”

Your mouth snapped shut as some guy from school walked into the kitchen, heading straight for Rafe and dapping him up.

Ugh, okay—not just some guy. That was Chris Reid. A walking jock stereotype.

Blonde hair, athletic build, tanned as hell, and captain of the football team. An asshole… and a full head taller than Rafe.

“Kelce said you'd be in here,” Chris said, and his stupid grin landed on you next, eyes scanning you in a way you did not appreciate. “This your girl?”

Heat crept up your neck, and when you caught Rafe’s dark look, you suddenly just wanted to leave. You felt completely unwelcome.

“You actually want something, or are you just here to creep on girls?” Rafe said with a crooked smile, not taking his eyes off Chris.

Reid’s grin only deepened. “Me? Come on, dude, I’d never hit on someone’s girl.” His eyes flicked back to you for a split second, almost like a provocation, before settling on Rafe again. “Nah, I heard you brought some yayo.”

...

Seriously?

You knew Rafe liked to mess around a little at parties, and okay… apparently during the last couple school days too, but dealing?

If you weren’t so high, it would probably hit you harder. But right now, you were just standing there awkwardly, a smile glued to your face because you had no clue what else to do.

Rafe’s eyebrows twitched, like his face couldn’t decide whether to go with annoyed or full on pissed off.

You honestly thought he might swing at Chris and Chris clearly thought the same because he just let out this cocky little chuckle. “Hey, I get it, if you wanna play the sweet little boyfriend role—”

“I’m not her fucking boyfriend,” Rafe finally snapped, his voice cutting through the room hard enough to startle you. He ran a hand down his face, clearly irritated. “You even got cash on you?”

Chris looked between the two of you, that gross little grin still on his face. “Of course.” Then he nodded toward the hallway. “You coming? Sounds like you could use some too.”

Rafe’s jaw tensed, and every part of you hoped he wouldn’t just leave you standing there. But he sighed, frowning, and motioned vaguely with his hand. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Waiting in the guest room then.” Chris gave you one last smirk before turning and disappearing down the hall—and something ugly and heavy settled in your chest.

It’s not like you expected Rafe to be your bestie tonight, and definitely not to act like you were his or anything—wtf, no, omg??? No. That would be peak delusion, holy shit.

No, you’d just kinda hoped… well, yeah, what had you hoped for?

Rafe didn’t owe you anything. He had every right to do what he wanted at this party, with whoever he wanted. He’d invited you as a guest, not as his date.

But still, this hollow feeling crept up and wrapped around your chest, sobering you faster than anything else could’ve.

“I assume you can handle yourself for ten minutes,” Rafe muttered, eyes dull like even he knew he’d just given in to some jock-asshole. There was this weird tone in his voice too, something tired and flat. “Unless you wanna come along and give it a try?”

Your cheeks already hurt from all the fake smiling but this one was worse, because now you weren’t smiling from comfort but because you had no idea what else to do.

You shook your head, chuckling awkwardly, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “Oh, no thanks. I’m good here.”

No way in hell you’d do a line in this environment. Plus, being around Reid made your skin crawl. And if Rafe had actually wanted you there with him… well, girl, it doesn’t matter. Let the guy do his thing. Don’t get clingy.

Rafe seemed to hesitate, big blue eyes staring at you with his jaw clenching slightly, then he just nodded and muttered, “Aight,” before following Chris down the hallway.

Something deep inside your chest twisted painfully as you were left alone in the kitchen. Suddenly, this whole party felt like the dumbest decision you’d ever made.

Technically Rafe didn’t even do anything wrong. He didn't owe you any kind of loyalty. But still, the way he’d made very clear that he’d had no interest in you.

Yeah, that stung. Made you feel hurt. Stupid.

The fact that you'd actually—seriously—believed that Rafe might see you as anything even remotely—

“You okay?”

You looked up, startled, as Topper stepped into the kitchen holding a beer, a genuinely concerned look on his face.

Once again, that default smile found its way to your face—probably from relief at seeing someone friendly. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to get a drink,” you lied, gesturing to the untouched cup Rafe had left behind.

Topper glanced at the bottles nearby and raised his eyebrows. “You drink Jägermeister?”

Um…

“Lemme guess. Rafe dipped,” Topper said, now frowning.

The fact that he acknowledged it out loud just made it even more embarrassing.

“Well, he went off with some guy to…” you started, not sure how to finish the sentence.

“Snort coke,” Topper finished for you, clearly annoyed.

You nodded silently.

“He’s such a fucking idiot, I swear to God,” he said, setting his own cup down on the counter with a sigh. “Sorry he’s being such an asshole.”

You raised your brows, not quite following. “It’s fine. I guess that’s just his version of having fun.”

“That’s his version of being stupid,” Topper shot back, brows pulling together. “First he blows up at me about the whole driving situation, then he ditches you? The guy doesn’t know what the hell he wants.”

OH, WHAT???

“Sorry, what?” you asked carefully, trying not to sound too curious.

Topper leaned against the counter, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Okay, what did he tell you—why I couldn’t drive you?”

Your eyebrows twitched, a sinking feeling already forming. “Well, he said you were picking up Ruthie and her girls, and that’s why he picked me up instead—so I wouldn’t get upset or whatever.”

“He made it sound like I decided that, didn’t he?”

... oh my god. OH MY GOD. DID THAT MEAN...?

“He didn’t say it explicitly, but—”

“What a fucking idiot. I can’t believe it,” Topper said, scoffing and shaking his head. “Ugh, and I’m the dumbass for letting his bullshit slide.” His gaze softened as it met yours. “Honestly, I’m sorry this turned into such a mess.”

You smiled—this time for real—a warm feeling blooming in your chest at the fact that he actually cared, though part of you was still confused why he seemed so riled up about all this.

“It’s all good, really. Just the fact you even offered me a ride in the first place means a lot.”

Topper nodded, then hesitated before saying, “Cara told me you weren’t sure about coming tonight. Or more like... didn’t feel great about going without her.”

God, at this point you didn’t even know who had texted what to whom anymore.

Also, you probably should’ve been a little annoyed that Cara had shared that with him but if you were being honest, you’d kind of figured that out the moment she’d asked Topper to give you a ride. And right now, you didn’t even care, because honestly? You were just glad not to be standing alone in some random corner.

So you nodded, a little embarrassed. “Well, yeah. I mean, I barely know anyone here.” You chuckled awkwardly. “And it just feels weird showing up to a party by yourself.”

But instead of laughing or making some dumb comment, Topper just furrowed his brows. “And that idiot still left you here?”

“What? Yeah—I mean, no,” you said, smiling nervously. “He’s free to do whatever he wants.”

Topper just looked at you for a second, his expression softening like he was trying to figure you out. Then he nodded, grabbing his drink again. "So are you", he said and tilted his head toward the door. “Me and a buddy are looking for two beer pong players. Was actually trying to find Kelce, but I think he’s stuck playing party host for a while. You down?”

You didn’t even think—just nodded with a smile, cheeks still warm from the aftereffects of the joint, and relieved to be included in something,. “Sure.”

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“Damn, nice shot!”

You high-fived Rob as he held his hand up after you landed the ball in one of the opposing team’s cups.

“Thanks,” you said with a sheepish smile.

Rob—who was actually named Robert Lewis—had come all the way from Wilmington for Kelce’s party, and even though he was technically Topper’s rival in bigger surf tournaments, the two of them still seemed to be really good friends. And we’re not talking about that performative, hyper-masculine/bro-chill/we-might-be-toxic kind of guy friendship either—like, they were actually genuine.

Topper had even told you Rob was the better surfer by far, but the guy didn’t flaunt it or tease him about it. It was kinda sweet.

And Rob was sweet to you too. He’d greeted you right away, offered you a handshake (like, okay, manners king??), introduced himself, and was excited to play on your team.

Long story short: he wasn’t some Kook from Figure 8, and it showed.

Topper was teamed up with Molly Crane. WHICH WAS A FUCKING CELEBRATION FOR YOU, BECAUSE OMGGG?? A FAMILIAR FACE??

You had even hugged her when you saw her because you were so happy to see someone you knew and actually got along with.

And all three of them were just... nice. Chill. No dumb comments, no weird mixed signals, no constant mood swings. You actually felt comfortable for once.

And because the joint was wearing off and you were starting to feel a little tired, you’d ended up taking a few sips of Rafe’s fresh Jäger-Bull drink he had left behind to get your energy back.

That crazy-ass combo did make your heart race a little faster, and yeah, it freaked you out a bit because like, hehehehe what the fuck??? Butttt you’d already had a beer and half your current drink plus like three cups from beer pong, and so far you were totally fine HIHIHIHIHII.

Maybe even too fine, because playing with Rob was... NDNXDXNDUSXNK, he looked good, OKAY? Like objectively handsome (okay, scratch that—he was exactly your type), and also sweet and respectful, BUT still kinda flirty???

BEST. OF. BOTH. WORLDS.

And it seemed like he was genuinely interested in you. He asked where you were from, how you knew Topper, what you did besides going to parties, and even asked what perfume you were wearing because “damn, it smells really good” (THAT BASTARD WAS SMOOTH).

So yeah. To sum it up: you were having a great time, felt extremely at ease, and that was a very dangerous combination—because the way Rob so obviously showed he liked you, yeah, that gave you a big confidence boost.

So while you were having the time of your life, you just kind of... tuned everything else out. The loud music and chatter, the crowd, the screaming girls getting pushed into the pool by drunk dudes.

You even tuned out your own thoughts, just let yourself enjoy the moment, completely forgetting all the anxiety you’d felt before this party.

Including Rafe.

Who had totally disappeared ever since he left with asshole Chris Reid to go do god-knows-what sketchy shit. Like, why should you care that he’d ditched you? That he basically traded your presence for a line of coke? Or that he had acted genuinely offended when Chris had assumed you were his girlfriend? Like OKAY I GET IT.

No really—you were fine. Everything was great—

“Hey, watch out.” Rob reached out and gently pulled you toward him, saving you from a soccer ball that would’ve smacked right into your hip (“sorry” came the shout from some drunk guy in the distance).

You looked up at Rob, startled by the close proximity, your cheeks heating up, the warmth of his hands still on your shoulders, his smile, and girl, DO NOT FALL FOR THIS RANDOM GUY RIGHT NOW.

But it was getting really hard not to, because in the following, you two were seriously a great team—and more importantly, he wasn’t sending you any confusing signals like some people.

“Nice game,” he said after sinking the final shot that won you the round.

You just chuckled, your whole body buzzing warm. “You landed most of the shots though.”

Rob smirked, eyes twinkling a little as he looked at you. “Sorry—if I’d been more focused, it would’ve been even more.”

BOIIIIII.

“Nice win,” Topper said as he walked over to your side with Molly. “Up for another round?”

Honestly, you really had to pee… and all that standing around was starting to get exhausting, especially now that the backyard had gotten way more crowded in the last half hour.

Molly seemed to feel the same. “Maybe later, I need a quick breather first.”

A few seconds later, you both found yourselves giggling in the downstairs bathroom.

You were peeing while Molly sat on the edge of the bathtub—your heart pounding, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. Your vision was… well, not trashed exactly, but yeah, you were definitely feeling it.

Shit, but you felt good. Free, open, not like some socially awkward fish anymore.

You and Molly talked about this and that, giggling like two silly, smitten girls over Rob and sharing your mutual suffering about the hell that was senior year.

You felt genuinely happy—thankful for Topper and Molly (and obviously Rob, hihihii), even for Kelce, who’d welcomed you so warmly and actually seemed kinda caring after your coughing fit because of the joint.

You and Molly were about to head back to Topper and Rob when your phone buzzed.

Probably Cara.

“Go ahead, I’ll join you in a minute,” you said to Molly with a smile, then stumbled with a surprised chuckle to the edge of the tub, sitting down, ignoring the sudden funny feeling in your stomach.

Ready to shoot Cara a quick update, your heart skipped a beat when you saw Rafe’s name on your screen. It started beating just a little bit faster as you texted him back.

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Rafe shoved his phone back into the pocket of his shorts, jaw clenched, not even bothering to reply to your shitty-ass pic.

Had you really managed to catch some dude named Mickey—or Mikey, or whatever the hell that name you tried to spell was—within the thirty goddamn minutes he’d left you alone? And on top of that, gone into the bathroom with him to—

He cut the thought off with a sharp shake of his head, a frown settling in. Why the fuck did such an image flash in his head again?

Rafe gritted his teeth. He’d only left to deal with that asshole Chris and his loser friends, selling them a few grams (and also snort some lines because why not). He wouldn’t even have left you behind if he didn’t desperately need the cash to meet Barry’s deadline.

Fuck—and there it was again. Another picture, clear as day. You, in that stupidly good-looking outfit tonight, pressed against the bathroom door—

What the actual fuck.

Rafe rubbed his eyes, a heavy, sick feeling sitting in his stomach. Jesus fucking Christ, he needed another line. This shit was getting unhinged.

He lined up a clean stripe of white on the kitchen counter with his phone, ignoring the looks of some bickering bitches, and snorted it off in one go.

Rubbing his nose, he inhaled deep, the familiar kick spreading through his veins like wildfire.

Better.

But then—another image. This time from his own point of view. You in front of him, his pants around his ankles, your pretty lips on—

NO. NO, FUCK THAT. What the actual—like, actually, holy shit.

Rafe’s breathing was heavy now, his heart pounding in his ears, and his brain kept flashing images he couldn’t stop if he tried.

Frustrated and irritated, he ran a hand through his hair, pissed at himself and at the fact that he had no idea where the fuck these thoughts were coming from.

Then he spotted that fucker Reid across the room, chatting up some chick like he wasn’t a walking STD, and the memory hit him—the way that bastard had looked at you earlier when he’d walked into the kitchen. How his eyes had lingered on you. That slimy-ass grin.

The fucking fact that he’d had the balls to do it right in front of Rafe.

Shit, you weren’t Rafe’s fucking girlfriend. Fuck, no—not even close. But the idea that you could’ve been—and that Reid still had had the audacity to look at you like that—lit something vile, something filthy and twisted in Rafe’s gut.

And then it hit him harder: this whole fucking party was filled with greasy assholes like Chris Reid, looking for some poor girl to get laid.

And one of them had probably latched onto you while Rafe had been gone, maybe even fed you drinks, pretended to be all nice and charming just to pull some sleazy shit, and that made Rafe’s blood boil on a whole different level.

You weren’t some cheap party girl who let any random dickhead get handsy. Plus, the way you’d texted Rafe, made clear you weren’t exactly sober.

Fuck no. That thought alone had his jaw locking tight.

And before he even knew what he was doing, before he could stop to question the wild, confusing feeling building inside him, his feet were already moving.

He shoved past sweaty, perfumed, half-drunk bitches and pricks as he stormed out of the kitchen and into the hallway, brows furrowed, pulse hammering.

He came to a halt in front of the downstairs bathroom door, ignoring the group of girls waiting in line, and grabbed the doorknob.

His heart did something weird as it didn’t budge.

“Wait your turn, Cameron,” said some irrelevant chick who wasn’t even worth looking at.

Rafe ignored her—her, and the rising storm inside him over why the fuck he was even doing this—and knocked on the door.

Once. Twice. Four times—

The door creaked open. He lifted his chin, ready to confront the bastard inside but all the tension in his shoulders dropped the moment he saw your face.

Eyes glassy, wide with surprise, still slightly red from the joint, your skin glimmering like it had just been washed, and your lips slightly parted as you met his gaze.

In your breath, he caught Red Bull, beer, and something else.

“Did you puke?” Rafe raised his brows, trying to peer through the crack in the door to make sure—

“Yeah,” you replied with a half-tired smile and a little chuckle. “But I’m good now.”

Jesus Christ.

Rafe felt like a fucking joke. At this point, he was seriously considering if he’d done way too much earlier because why the fuck was he even here right now?

“Cameron, take your girlfriend somewhere else, some of us still gotta use the damn bathroom,” said that same dumb bitch’s voice again.

Rafe glared at her, ready to snap that you weren’t his fucking girlfriend, but before he could say anything, you just let out a chuckling “sorry” toward the bitch and softly stumbled forward.

Toward him.

Your hand, landing briefly on his chest—just enough to steady yourself—sent a sharp jolt of something through him. You gave him an awkward “sorry” and when you immediately backed away, something in Rafe wanted to pull you back but fuck that, holy shit.

And because the bitches in line were already clucking impatiently behind you, Rafe put a hand on your back and said, “Move,” guiding you through the crowded hallway.

“Where to?” you asked, almost too quietly to hear over the pounding bass.

“Kitchen,” Rafe replied dryly.

This was exactly why he didn’t want a damn girl clinging to him. No annoying girlfriend. No clingy chick of any kind.

He hadn’t come to this fucking party to play goddamn babysitter.

Honestly, he could punch himself in the face. He’d only come looking for you so that no dirty asshole had a chance to get handsy. Rafe had some decency. He wasn’t about to leave a drunk girl in the hands of some rando loser.

With a scowl, he placed his hands gently on your shoulders when some other girl almost stumbled right into you. Rafe almost opened his mouth to snap at her but clenched his jaw instead, confused as hell why he was suddenly so on edge.

Once in the less crowded kitchen, he hesitated before letting go of you.

You leaned back against the counter with a tipsy smile—but it faded the moment your eyes met his.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice was nervous, almost apologetic.

A strange pull tugged at Rafe’s chest but he shoved it aside, annoyed, and stepped next to you toward the bottles.

“Why were you alone?” he asked, pouring a shot of vodka.

“I wasn’t,” you replied. “Molly was with me before.”

Molly Crane. That was the name you’d tried to type earlier. Not some fucking Mickey.

Holy shit—was Rafe actually losing it?

He let out an irritated scoff, brows furrowed as he set the bottle down. “Such a good friend, leaving you alone to puke.”

“Funny thing coming from you,” you said with a half-laugh, and Rafe could feel your gaze on him.

He clenched his jaw, then threw back the shot, the bitter taste hitting his tongue and burning all the way down.

Meeting your eyes with a crooked grin, he said, “Yeah? The fuck’s that supposed to mean, huh? You pissed because you couldn’t be alone for thirty minutes? You do realize I’m not your fucking babysitter.”

Your expression shifted, and something about it pulled a hollow feeling straight through his chest.

“I was joking…”

Rafe gritted his teeth, overwhelmed by the mess of confusing shit swarming his head. He ran a hand down his face. He needed to chill the fuck out. Either he’d done too many lines or not enough.

You gently pushed yourself off the counter, a sad smile playing on your lips. “I think I should go find Molly. Don’t want her to worry.”

What about me?

The thought hit him like a fucking truck—crazy, embarrassing, pathetic as fuck—and yet there it was, leaving him almost sober in its wake.

Fuck.

He just didn’t get why you suddenly wanted to get away from him.

Fuck, seriously, what the fuck. Why do I even care?

“Or… did you want something?” you asked hesitantly, a flicker of vulnerability in your voice Rafe didn’t know how to process.

He shook his head, irritated, keeping his mouth shut—because clearly his brain was on some fuckery, and the last thing he needed was to start saying that shit out loud.

Your brows twitched, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. “I just thought... you texted me, asking where I was, and—”

“Ayo, Rafe! Y/N! We were just looking for you.”

Kelce’s voice boomed over the music as he barged into the kitchen with some random dude in tow—

Oh fuck no. Fucking hell no.

Not this fucking asshole.

Stupid fucking grinning Robert Lewis.

Topper’s dumbass surfer buddy who Kelce, for some unknown, brain-dead reason, seemed to worship.

Rafe already wanted to punch him. But instead, he forced a fake-ass smile as Robert came up, hand outstretched for a dap.

“Good to see you, man,” Robert said with that dumb fucking grin. “How you doing?”

Rafe just nodded, subtle shake of the head, corners of his mouth pulled down. “The usual shit.”

Robert laughed like it was the funniest fucking shit he’d heard all night, and the moment his eyes landed on you, Rafe felt a twitch in his fingers—ready to swing on this fucker.

And fucking hell, the way he looked at you. That big-ass smile. That glimmer in his eyes like you two were already familiar which was ridiculous because—

“And you, Y/N?” Robert asked, voice all warm like he gave a shit. “You doing okay? Molly told us you wanted to stay behind.”

What.

The.

Actual.

Fuck.

Rafe thought he’d misheard—his ears were already ringing from the coke and the insanely loud music (fucking Carnival playing for the fourth time tonight), so maybe it was just his brain tripping again.

But the way you looked up at that grinning asshole, eyes all dreamy and soft, a smile so sweet Rafe didn’t even know you had it in you—it felt like someone smashed a baseball bat right into his skull.

“Oh, yeah, no, I’m all good,” you said, a soft chuckle slipping from your lips. “My stomach just freaked out a bit after the beer pong drinks, but I’m good now.”

Funny. Yeah, real fucking funny. You and that douchebag playing beer pong together? Funniest shit Rafe had ever heard.

Kelce laughed. “Ahhh, shit, classic mistake. Weed and alcohol are not the best of friends.”

“My fault,” Robert said with that fake-ass innocent smile. “Should’ve made sure you weren’t drinking all of Topper’s hits.”

Rafe tensed instantly, alarm bells blaring and he didn’t even know why—no, actually, he did know. This fucker had been trying to smooth-talk you while Rafe had been gone, get you drunk, play his little fake-charm game, and wrap you around his goddamn finger.

God, Rafe would love to slam his fist into that smug face right about now. And fucking Topper too, for setting up this whole bullshit game in the first place.

And you? Why the fuck were you falling for this crap? Looking at that loser you’d known for maybe a couple of hours like he was the only guy in the room?

Rafe had spent an entire fucking week with you—every day—for that damn school project, trying to make you feel at ease, and you still hadn’t warmed up to him. But this greasy little fucker? All it took was one night?

Fucking ridiculous.

He didn’t get it. Didn’t understand. Couldn’t make sense of this fucked-up chaos inside him. The rage. The insane thoughts. The way he suddenly wanted—needed—you to look at him the way you just looked at that piece of shit.

FUCK.

What the fuck had Barry mixed into that coke?

And what. the. fuck. was going on with the guys at this damn party that they were looking at you like Rafe wasn’t standing right the fuck there?

Like seriously?!

Rafe never brought girls to parties. And the one fucking time he did—and yeah, okay, it was chill and casual and nothing serious—BUT NONE OF THESE FUCKING IDIOTS KNEW THAT.

NO ONE KNEW YOU WEREN’T RAFE’S HOOKUP OR DATE OR GIRL—AND STILL, THEY HAD THE AUDACITY TO ACT LIKE THAT?

Nah. FUCK THAT.

Rafe wasn’t some fucking merchant bringing girls around to be snatched up by whatever fucker got his hands on you first.

At this point, they were asking to get decked.

And Rafe? He’d seen enough. Let enough of this bullshit slide.

Because you didn’t just show up here. You were brought. Invited.

By him.

And if nobody seemed to fucking get that, then it was about damn time he’d change that.

So when Kelce announced a game of Truth or Dare starting in the living room, Rafe didn’t back out despite how much he hated that childish-ass game with every fiber of his being.

Because if this meant he could wipe the stupid fucking smile off Robert Lewis’ face, and shut down every other asshole at this party who thought tonight was their chance to piss him off—he’d gladly take part.

“Aight, party people, get your asses into the living room then”, Kelce said, clasping his hands.

Rafe glanced at you for a second, watching the way you looked at douchebag Robert… the way that fucker placed his hand on your back, leading you out of the kitchen toward the game.

Yeah. That guy? Rafe was fucking him over tonight.

Because he could just about tolerate that loser hanging around Kelce and Topper—Topper had been pissing him off lately anyway, and Kelce was like some dumb puppy always chasing new people—but you?

No fucking way was Rafe letting that wannabe surfer douche try anything with the girl he had brought.

Didn’t matter that you weren’t his girl or whatever.

No, it was about the fucking principle. About the fact that this prick even thought he could lean that far into Rafe’s zone.

And somehow, the thought of how you’d cling to him after he’d chased off Fuckhead Lewis—Rafe being the one you’d gaze at so smiley and sweet—left him with a buzzing feeling in his chest that hit almost as good as the high from a line.

"You coming, dude?" Kelce asked, putting a hand on Rafe's shoulder, a drunk grin on his stupid face.

Funny enough, Rafe didn't push him away because he realized that idiot might just be the key to fucking Lewis over.

So all he said in response was, "Yeah, yeah, sure". A crooked smile appeared on his lips. "Just wanna know if you'd be down to score some extra baggie."

Kelce's shitty grin was answer enough.

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K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

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[sabertoothwalrus]

any art tips about writing funny scenarios? i feel like i understand drawing but ive been in a total writing rut, especially when it comes to comedy :/

I think the main thing to consider is What Is The Punchline.

Something I see often in beginner joke-writing is having too much after the punchline. You don't need to have character A dunk on character B, and then have characters C, D, & E all reacting to it. UNLESS the reaction is the punchline. Remember how funny vines were? A lot of that came from them being only 6 seconds, and often cut off at the end. The Abruptness can absolutely add to the timing.

The other main thing is that comedy = contrast. Yesterday was April Fool's Day, and something I was seeing a lot of people do (myself included) was make some kind of "announcement", and then say some variation of "haha sike!" The thing is, this only works if your audience could have realistically expected you to make that kind of announcement in the first place. If an artist who has been staunchly and vocally against AI art posts an AI image, then... that's not really a joke? Your followers will be confused, not only because you're acting out-of-character about an issue that's politically charged, but also because you're still using AI art.

My own version of this joke was to redraw an old comic, which is something I love doing! I love revisiting old media I used to like, and I love redrawing art to track my improvement. My followers (hopefully) know this about me. The twist was that the comic I redrew was voltron, specifically klance, because I have the experience to know this would give a lot of people a lot of whiplash. Even after almost 9 years, just simply seeing the characters was enough to send people careening into a weird spiral of nostalgia and fear for my sanity, because of how controversial the show and its fanbase had become. But since most of the controversy was because of extremely-online drama, it was ultimately harmless (and people that are genuinely still into the show got some new art for it teehee!) I'm going to use a recent comic I did as a another example.

^ this is a comic about Ace Attorney, but honestly you don't really need to know anything about Ace Attorney except that "7yg" is a shorthand the fandom used for "7 year gap".

Panel 1: Setting the expectation. it's during the pandemic, so it's normal for people to have hand sanitizer on them. A precedence has been established.

Panel 2: Additional Context. Phoenix rummages through his pockets, which tells the audience he has a lot of stuff in them, and that he's identifying objects more by touch than by sight.

Panel 3: Anticipation

Panel 4: The punchline! Oops, it was lube! Small bottles of lube DO look & feel very similar to bottles of hand sanitizer, but people-- especially during a global pandemic-- do not typically carry small bottles of lube on them. Personally, I think Phoenix Wright could be the kind of person to have lube on him (for any number of sexual or non-sexual reasons), but the audience doesn't necessarily need to know that about him. Part of the joke is the nonchalance in his reaction; all you need to know is that Phoenix himself is not that surprised or embarrassed about having lube with him, or about having just dispensed some of it into his friend's hands.

Comedy is hard to explain!! It's also not very funny to explain. It really takes a lot of practice, and everyone has different tastes in humor/context/expectations anyway, so you're never going to make everyone laugh. Knowing your audience will definitely help.

[aliusfrater]

i was really excited to read this but it sucked i stopped ¾ of the way through lol i was hoping it'd get better or culminate to something interesting

fic so good it's triggering

[konpeitonom]

I am shocked that no one has asked for a Daisuke nsfw alphabet version yet...I must change that... Can you make a Daisuke nsfw alphabet when you have the time, please? _(´ཀ`」 ∠)_

daisuke nsfw alphabet.

nsfw — lowercase intended ^_^

fem reader —

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; it took me a couple days to do this IM SORRY. it might be all over the place. complete writing slump rn but i now have dedicated times to write and such so hopefully i wont slack, haha..

and happy 102 of you all! did not think i’d reach this far so early.

nsfw under the cut! minors do not read

a — aftercare, (what they’re like after sex)

— he’s always hungry after sex so he’ll always make you/order you food, whether or not you want it or not, haha.. he’ll also set up the tub for you, or whatever. if you’re at his place he’ll set up his fancy jets.

b — body part (their favorite body part, and their partners)

— 100% a thigh kind of guy.. will ask you to suffocate him with them. non-sexually even, he just has a fixation on your thighs.

— for him? nothing in particular, i really can’t think on this. maybe his hands?

c — cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

— not inside, he’s too paranoid for that kind of thing (he’s still young after all!) even if you are on birth control.. i think on the bed or whatever surface you guys are on, because he’d feel just a tinsy bit bad if he cums on you. with your permission, on your thigh..

— i mentioned in my regular daisuke headcanons that he used to be a bit of a player. he doesn’t wanna make you feel used and stuff, so he tries his best to not come off as such..

d — dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

— he cums really easily. he’s kinda embarrassed about it. came while making out, because he grinded a bit on your thigh. had to excuse himself to the bathroom. don’t laugh at him be nice about it haha.

e — experience (how experienced are they?)

— hes not too experienced sexually.. once or twice maybe? or a virgin too. i see him as 18-21 and i feel like most people don’t really lose theirs till then.. whatever it is, he doesn't really know what he’s doing.

f — favorite position (self explanatory)

— you riding him.. he thinks it’s just really hot- likes the sight of you on top of him. In bed, he’s not particularly dominant unless you’re much more submissive than him.

g — goofy (are they more serious in the moment?)

— he can get a bit overwhelmed emotionally i think, so he might make a joke or two or just be less serious overall to sort of cope with that.

— seeing sex as intimacy rather than just a way to get off is a sign of growing up for him which i think might scare him a little?

h — hair (how well groomed are they?)

— he doesn’t think about it! it’s never something he paid much mind too so unless you’re bothered by it then he doesn’t care all much.

i — intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic wise?)

— i think he can be pretty romantic. like, praise or ‘i love yous’ during sex. but it’s not something he focuses on unless it’s a special day.

j — jack off (masturbation headcanon)

— i think he jerks off pretty often, however often a teenage boy/young adult usually does. usually to the thought of you, or porn (projects the two of you when watching..) or maybe to one of your clothing items you so happen to leave at his place. he’d wash it, promise.

k — kink (one of their kinks)

— semi-public stuff. his car or bathrooms even. he doesn’t actually wanna get caught or in trouble but he really, really likes the idea of it.

— marking!! thank you 🪖 for the inspiration. only in spots you’d allow him too. maybe not on the neck just for looks sake.. particularly enjoys your thighs and shoulders.

— watching you masturbate. you watching him masturbate. i won’t elaborate this is a throwaway thought.

— i think.. he’d like it if you degraded him? maybe a bit of a guilty pleasure, it’s just sexy. but there’s a thin line between that and being plain mean.

l — location (favorite places to do it)

— .. in the car, in some random parking lot. it’s like the perfect place for him. privacy, but not too much. and no worries about his parents or yours. and likes the look of fogged up windows, just a hint of what they’d done!

m — motivation (what turns them on)

— seeing you want it is the hottest thing to him. like you tugging at his sleeve, telling him you wanna go home early to go ‘do stuff’. just say the word and he’ll do it for you!

n — no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

— nothing that hurts you, or hurts him. i mean, it’s sex, it’s supposed to feel good. he wouldn’t like being mean to you. you could be mean to him but he can’t imagine like, slapping you.

o — oral (preference in giving, receiving)

— prefers receiving! i mean he eats pussy, and likes doing so, but is in love with the way your eyes look as you go down on him.. your lips, the way it feels, he loves it. especially in the privacy of.. a bathroom stall.

p — pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

— i think.. he thinks faster is better. and sometimes it is. not particularly rough but he tries, if that’s what you’re into.

q — quickie (their opinion on quickies, how often)

— he likes them! loves them, even. after that initial stage of awkwardness he’s totally up for sex everyday, even if it’s a little quickie.

r — risk (are they willing to experiment? do they take risks?)

— hes very open and excited to try new things, infact i think he does most of the suggesting. of course he considers your preferences into account before doing so. if you suggest something, 9 times out of 10 he’s willing.

s — stamina (self explanatory)

— i think he can go for a long while.. he has a lot of energy. he used to play baseball (canon) so i can only assume physically he’s very active.

t — toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on themselves or their partner?)

— yes, 100%. he prefers using toys on you, as a way to please you. double stimulation, or whatever. but he’s not opposed to using toys for himself either. he wouldn’t go out of his way to do so, but if you wanted it then for sure.

u — unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

— he’s not much of a tease. maybe if you were being kind of mean that day, he’d tease you a little. but he prefers it when you tease him, honestly, thinks it’s real cute.

v — volume (how loud are they? what sounds do they make?)

— he’s loud.. whines and groans. he can’t help it, really. he’s not just doing it for show. though, he tries to quiet down just a tinsy bit so the focus is on you. he likes it when his partners are loud.

w — wild card (a random headcanon)

— has wet dreams more often than not. it’s really funny, actually. i think if he dreams about you specifically within said wet dream he’d feel a bit of guilt, then eventually jerk off to whatever it was.

x — x-ray (what’s going on underneath?)

— i think he’s average in length but a bit thicker. please compliment his dick he’s really insecure abt it ngl. that’s really all i have to say, sorry!

y — yearning (how high is their sex drive?

— pretty high i’d say. or just a bit higher than average. but being the people pleaser that he is, he’d take note of yours and go based on that rather than him.

z — zzz.. (how quickly they fall asleep)

— he can if he wants too, but would rather get up and do something else. he doesn’t want to feel all sore and groggy when he wakes up so he’d take a shower at least.

[baka-bakeneko]

The Boys are Mine - Wade Wilson [Deadpool] x Logan Howlett [Wolverine] x Fem! Reader

tags: NSFW, no seriously NSFW, MINORS DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, deadpool and wolverine are friendly, deadpool and wolverine enemies to lovers, movie accurate Logan Howlett attitude, possible throuple vibes, service dom Logan Howlett, submissive Wade Wilson, oral, voyeurism [honda odyssey fucks hard], consensual non consent, blood eating, can we call it knifeplay [?], edging, c*ck appreciation, an*l fingering, inappropes an*l training psa [but like also, neh], wrap it before you tap it psa, double penetration, double cre*mpie, slight aftercare

wc: 4.7k

synopsis: You, Wade and Logan go out to karaoke night to bond further.

a/n: the way logan acts in d&w actually gives me brain scratches, so let's hope i did that logan justice. wade...i've muted you baby

"Did they have Brandy and Monica in your universe?" Wade asked, handing over the spare microphone to Logan.

Somehow, Wade had convinced Logan to join your karaoke night. You were sure it was because the drinks were half-priced, and from how your table looked so far, they were stacking up.

Logan snatched the mic from Wade's hand, beer in his other as he propped himself up from the silver streamer wall.

"Just play the damn song," he grunted, one of the two ways he spoke.

Taking another long swig of his beer, he handed off the glass to you as the intro began.

"Don't worry, I'll be Brandy. Keep up, hot stuff," Wade said before speaking the first line of the song, flipping his imaginary hair.

Logan confusedly stared at the screen, reading off his lines tonelessly. You snickered, taking a sip of Logan's beer before waving your hand at the walking waitress.

"Another round of beer, please," you said when she approached the table, helping her clear your wobbly table. "And I'll take an order of those nachos, too."

The waitress nodded, lifting her full tray of bottles and sidling away. Returning your attention to the boys, you saw Logan's eyes follow the young woman's hips on her way to the bar.

You followed his stare, wanting to ogle too. When you turned back to the boys, Wade and Logan were both looking at you.

"Think it's time we got this straight, sit and talk face to face," Wade and Logan sang, their tones a cacophony of grit.

You laughed at them, mostly Logan as he fumbled through singing without actually singing. Of course Wade tunelessly carried the two of them. Looking between them, you were thoroughly entertained by them.

With another round of beers arriving at your table, thanks to Logan's eye candy, you happily finished off the bottle you were handed and set it down.

Picking up another, you looked back to the boys as they were now standing closer to each other; they were a few seconds from teasingly singing 'not yours, but mine' and actively arguing over a boy they were not sharing.

You reached to grab Logan's wrist, handing over your opened beer for him to be coaxed. He grunted into the mic, pulling his mouth away to take a deep swig while winking at you.

You straightened in your seat, crossing your legs before pulling your skirt to full length. With a cheer, the boys left the stage and Logan dropped his microphone to the floor.

A whine in microphone made everyone in the bar cringe in the direction of the stage; Logan slid next to you, bumping his knee at the table to make it wobble. His arm circled around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

His free hand, calloused and hairy wedged between your thighs and kneaded at your leg; you sucked in a sharp breath, one that sounded squeaky as it went down.

Wade raised his lack of eyebrows, popping open his beer cap before taking a drink. "Jeez, let me get comfortable before the show."

Logan growled, sneered, over at Wade before sliding his hand further up your leg; his fingers padded at the sensitive skin previously tucked under your skirt.

"You're not invited," the grizzled man bit back at Wade before leaning in to kiss your neck.

You hummed, your eyes rolling at the invitation of Logan's stubble brushing against your skin. Still, your legs remained clamped even though Logan's thumb began to tease at the front of your panties.

You breathed out, tilting your head away from Logan's wet lips as they migrated down to lick the meet of your shoulder.

Wade cleared his throat and you snapped your eyes open to look at him. You paused, meeting Wade's gaze. His eyes raked over your body, stopping at Logan's hand wedged under your skirt.

"Wolvie's on the prowl, huh?" Wade smirked, taking a sip of his beer. "You're just caught in a little bear trap, eh Logan?"

Logan snarled off of your shoulder, his teeth bared against your skin. "Shut up."

You giggled at Logan's warm breath against you, his thumb carefully peeling your panties aside to let his fingers tempt your clit. Just as he was close to doing so, the waitress returned and you uncrossed your legs to slide Logan's hand out of your skirt.

The waitress smiled, blissfully unaware of your predicament, and asked if the table wanted anything else. Wade sat back in his chair, casually throwing his arm over the back of it.

"Do you know how to make Pink Panties?" Wade asked innocently, grinning up at her.

You widened your eyes at him with Logan's growl erupting from beside you.

"Wade, leave the nice girl alone," you said, meeting his delighted stare again. "I think we'll take the check."

The waitress nodded and flashed a polite grin, then left the table. You turned your glare to chastising just as Logan curled his arm lower around your waist.

Wade's smile slowly fell, offering a nervous huff at you. "Does this mean I'm uninvited?"

You hid a roll of your eyes, glancing over to Logan who was returning his lips to your neck. "I'd uninvite him."

"You say that every time," you teased, hiding a whine when Logan hit a soft spot. "But you still eat him up."

"And I appreciate the enthusiasm." Wade smirked over at Logan, now ignoring Wade as his hand returned between your legs.

You sat back with a deep sigh, allowing Logan's rough hand to run up your thigh again. "Your invitation is golden, Wade."

Logan gruffed against your shoulder, biting tenderly at your skin before looking at the man across the table. "Whatever she says, goes."

"Score," Wade muttered, taking a final sip of his beer. "One last song for the road?"

-

You sat in the middle seat of the Odyssey, your face in Logan's hands as Wade sat patiently beside you. Even with Logan's lips at your ear, trailing down with soft wisps of his breath against your skin, you were distracted with Wade's equally calloused palm rubbing at your inside thigh to pry them open.

You were selfish in that instant, the conduit for both men to express their frustrated tension with one another. Tilting your chin in Logan's direction, your hand went for Wade's wrist and guided him further to touch you.

Though you felt the leader of this tryst, you both paused at Logan's growl. He parted from your neck, glancing over to Wade's hand managing up your skirt like he had in the bar.

Leaning into your ear, Logan grinned with a specific grit that metered his dominant cruelty.

"Did I say he could touch your pussy?"

You froze, a warmth cracking from the middle of your stomach as your pussy clenched in response. Logan's gruff voice was perfect for commands, even without raising his voice.

"Aww, come on Logan, it's not that ser-" Wade started but Logan forced your knees shut with his hand.

He cut his glare from you to stare at Wade, who effectively shut up and licked his lips. Looking back at you, Logan ran a careful finger down your jaw then across your collarbone.

You patiently waited, holding your attention to his emboldened gaze. His smirk remained, his hand finding its way into your shirt and kneading at your breast.

"You know to ask permission," he said to you, then Wade. "Before you start playing together."

You exhaled shakily, your mouth opened and awaiting his next kiss. Logan teased at you, his top lip brushing against yours before pulling away.

He watched you trail after him wantonly, his own stomach flipping in delight.

"Please," you whispered, eyes half-drawn to stare at your boyfriend.

"Please what?" He repeated as Wade leaned after you to peck your neck.

"Please," you started again, looking to Wade resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Can I play with her pussy?" Wade asked, the words salacious and polite at once.

Logan bit into his growing smile, raking your body and taking in Wade peeling your skirt up to reveal your underwear. He stiffened, looking back to the two of you before hatching an idea.

"Come here, sweetheart," Logan ordered gently, pulling you into the backseat just in front of him.

The two of you shared the seat, your butt backed between Logan's legs as he implied you rested against him. He caught your jaw in his hand and kissed you again, his free hand spreading your legs apart as your skirt was wedged up your waist.

"Wade," he barked softly, his fingers hooking at the front of your panties and pulling them harshly against your clit. "Come taste."

Wade's eyes widened eagerly as your chest heaved in anticipation.

Logan chuckled down at you, his mouth before your nose as he spat out: "Pitiful."

Logan threaded your panties down and back up your pussy, his knuckle sliding against you as you grew wetter. Wade laid himself out over the reclined middle seat, pulling himself between your legs to marvel at the sight.

He looked up at you, his eyes barely cutting to look at Logan. Wade offered a timid stripe to your clothed pussy, barely lining your lips but drawing out a mew from you.

You tilted your head back against Logan's shoulder, your hips rolling against him. Logan pressed his grit teeth to your ear.

"Look at Wade and tell him to eat it," he ordered, prompting you to pull your head up and look at him.

His eyes were dark with a new sense of want; Logan yanked at your panties, tugging them off of your hips before offering them to Wade.

"Pull them off of her, easy." Logan said, his gaze softening at Wade.

Wade, surprisingly mute, did as he was told tugging them off of your legs with his teeth. You whined, wanting to do Logan a service.

Turning to meet Wade's eyes, you were egged on by his stare. One of an eager man ready to please. You gulped, spreading your legs a bit further to allow Wade a better view at your pussy.

"Eat my pussy, Wade," you managed with minimal whining.

Wade exhaled dreamliy. "Yes ma'am. Sir."

He raised his brows to Logan then carefully found his way back to your pussy; he licked again, drawing your wet up to your clit before suckling carefully. You drew a knee up, ready to back him off your sensitive nub, but Logan caught your leg, opening you even further and making you more vulnerable.

After he was done suckling, Wade moved down to slurp in your juices, nosing into you before slipping his tongue into you. You melted against Logan, crying out as your boyfriend held your legs.

"Is he doing a good job?" Logan asked, his tone snarky almost.

"Yes," you gasped, eyes rolling back as Wade continued.

"Why not tell him?" he continued, taking soft grip of your chin to pull you up again.

He directed you to look down at Wade, the bottom of his face smushed into your pussy. Looking up at you, you moaned outwardly then fought against Logan's hold to tilt your head back.

Your noises echoed through the Odyssey, your panting drawing up the heat in the cabin. When you regained a bit of yourself, you met Wade's eyes again.

"Tell him how damn good he is," Logan grit, hissing behind your ear. "Tell him how close you are to coming, baby."

"You're so damn good, Wade. I'm so close." Your eyes fluttered, gaining your voice in a pinch.

You felt Wade chuckle against you, his hand reaching out to rub at your calf. You broke down again, meeting Logan's sultry gaze.

He breathed in your pants, opening his mouth to tempt his tongue into your mouth. You moaned into him as his hand undid your shirt, leaving you open.

Logan reached for your nipples as he kissed you, pinching harshly at you before soothing them with soft touches of his fingers. You were effectively coaxed by his touches, whining further into Logan's mouth.

When he pulled away, you were shocked again by Wade's sucking on your clit.

"Logan," you mewled, close to coming while staring at your boyfriend.

"I'm not doing it," Logan teased, biting at your bottom lip. "Praise Wade like the good boy he is."

Wade moaned at that, which you both acknowledged. You praised Wade while Logan reached to pet at the man's head, taking in a sharp breath.

"That's right, you're a good boy. Make her fucking cum, I know you can," Logan said, his tone giving way to his excitement. "Get her ready for me, get her wetter."

You broke with another moan, your body tightening while keeping Wade's eyes. You piqued, gasping while your pussy contracted on Wade's warm tongue.

Logan ran his hand down your chest, taking a moment to knead at your breast while he soaked in your writhing. He bit at your ear, watching you ride into Wade's tongue.

"Don't stop, Wade. I want her crying," Logan snarled, one hand clamping over your mouth to mute your moans.

You scrambled softly, ready to shut your legs around Wade's head; Wade followed Logan's lead, continuing as you panted and whined, cried and moaned into Logan's hand.

That was until Logan barked for Wade to stop. He sat back with a deep exhale, he licked at his raw lips to clean up your juices. Logan released your mouth, leaving you to catch your breath against his shoulder.

"Come here," Logan coaxed to Wade.

Wade kneeled between your splayed legs, leaning over you to Logan. Without warning, Logan extended his claws into Wade's jaw, allowing blood to seep from his open mouth due to his pierced tongue.

He grit, leaning in to slurp the bright crimson from Wade's lips along with your tart wet. Wade moaned, tempting his tongue out for a kiss though Logan was occupied with licking him clean.

Wade's blood dripped onto your thigh, with Logan taking charge to kiss Wade. He couldn't disguise his growl, still drinking in Wade's red before biting at his bottom lip.

"You want her to return the favor for doing such a good job?" Logan asked, his tone coaxing once again. He licked at Wade's bottom lip, then his jaw before timidly kissing at Wade's ear.

Wade moaned as Logan retracted his claws from his jaw, leaning into the man's voice.

"Yes please," Wade said, surprisingly obedient in the moment.

Logan chuckled darkly, pulling away from Wade; he playfully smacked Wade's burnt cheek.

"Aren't you a little bitch?" Logan snarked, his nose crinkling jokingly.

"Logan," you warned, sitting up slightly.

"He knows I'm kidding, baby. Ain't that right, bub?" Logan asked, leaning in to tease Wade with another kiss.

"Uh-huh," Wade agreed blindly, staring at Logan's lips.

"You heard him." Logan said, edging you off of his shoulder. "Why don't you return the favor?"

-

You switched with Wade, leaving Logan to drive the "bang bus" back to the apartment. From the front seat, Logan directed both of you with snarls and hard glances at the rear view mirror.

"Don't you dare cum yet, Wade," Logan bit out at a red light.

Just as you swirled your tongue around Wade's tip, his precum mixing with your saliva.

He whimpered, his hands tightening to fists over the back of the seat. Logan glanced back at you two, catching a peek of your bare pussy while you draped over Wade's waist.

"Do that thing with your tongue, babe. That thing that drives him crazy." He orchestrated, wringing his hands on the steering wheel before tapping the gas.

"N-no, no, no," Wade pleaded, hissing at your mouth sinking down at him again.

You did as you were told, looking up at Wade as you reversed on his cock and licked heavily at his slit. Wade groaned, rolling his head against his shoulders to pace himself.

"Don't hold back. Keep him edging," Logan grit, changing lanes with another glance back at you. "God, I can't wait to fuck that needy pussy."

You tensed then extended your back, giving Logan more of a show while teasing Wade.

"How you doing, bub?" Logan asked, grinning darkly.

"Hanging by a thread here. I'm gonna explode inside her mouth." Wade said, tightening his fists to not force your head on his cock.

"Oh, you don't wanna do that. Right baby?" Logan ridiculed with a smack of his teeth. "You want him to cum in your ass, don't you?"

You hummed in agreement, pulling off of Wade's cock to grin at him. "I want you both to stuff me."

Wade's eyes widened in concern, his lack of brows knitting together. "That's really hot, it is, but I'm gonna bust if you keep sucking."

Glancing over to Logan in the rearview, Wade felt a chill run down his back.

"Keep sucking, baby. Show some restraint, Wade."

You hummed as Wade groaned, awaiting release.

-

As you opened the front door to Logan's apartment, Logan kissed Wade's temple.

"Be happy, good boy. You made it home," Logan teased, spanking Wade's ass. "And without a mess."

Logan moved past him to you, giving you a spank as well. "You on the other hand..."

You trilled, walking in with Logan following eagerly. Meanwhile Wade trailed behind, practically run down. Logan scooped you up over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom with Wade following.

"Don't be so glum, Wade. You're such a good boy," you said sweetly, holding your chin in your hand. "I know you can last all night."

"You might be giving him too much credit. Especially between your pussy and mouth." Logan looked behind him at Wade, noticing him holding his rock-hard cock through his jeans. "We'll see how he lasts with that tight ass of yours."

Logan grabbed a handful of your ass, kneaded at the plushy feel of it before edging his finger to your pussy. You were enlivened by Logan's touch, straightening your back to allow him further.

"You wanna go first since you're gonna pout?" Logan asked, pushing open the bedroom door and casually tossing you onto the bed. "Honey, roll onto your stomach and give Wade what he wants."

"I'm not pouting," Wade said, releasing his cock and holding a hand out at you, holding you in place. "I just...god, I'm gonna fucking explode."

Logan chuckled, grabbing onto the front of Wade's shirt to pull him close. "And you think I'm not? I've been watching you two have all the fun, when's my fucking turn?"

Wade snarled softly at Logan. "Really? I'm surprised you're not getting off by bossing us around. Fuck toys to get you off your ego."

You sat up on your elbows, staring at the two men sneering at one another.

"Oh yeah?" Logan taunted, undoing his pants to reveal his cock fully at attention. His tip was leaking precum, his shaft strained with veins. "Getting off my ego huh? I'm gonna bust as soon as I fuck our girl."

You bit your lip, shifting your knees apart while they kept arguing.

Wade offered to undo his pants as well, participating in the dick measuring contest. His cock looked similar to Logan's, though more decorated with hardened burns revealing muscle. His tip was reddened from over-stimulation, twitching while trying to withhold his latent release.

"You think I won't? I'm gonna cum as soon as I hit the bed." Wade offered.

You tilted your head at the two of them, waiting for one of them to pounce on the other. You were the final act, but they were the mid-climax.

Wade leaned in to touch Logan's cock, earning his growling hiss. "Fuck, your cock is huge."

"Why don't you suck it?" you joked peeling off your shirt before unzipping your skirt.

"I don't think I can get my mouth around it," Wade said, taking a timid stroke of Logan's cock. "You have my praises."

You raised a brow at him, sitting up fully to watch your men play with each other. Wade admired Logan's length as Logan mildly kissed at Wade's jaw, then his neck as his hand gripped at Wade's shoulder.

The more Wade stroked, the heavier Logan's kisses got before he met Wade's burnt lips in a tepid kiss. You were touched that Logan finally gave in to kissing Wade without stabbing, but that was short lived as his claws punctured Wade's side.

Wade grunted into Logan's mouth, biting away to pause stroking. Logan bit into Wade's bottom lip, hard enough to make him bleed from there too.

You shook your head as Wade's blood oozed under his shirt and into his jeans, no doubt leaving a puddle when they would be done. Stretching out on the bed, you propped yourself up against the pillows and took in the show.

"Babe," you addressed Logan. He tilted his head slightly in your direction without meeting your eyes. "Why don't you touch Wade's cock?"

"Yeah, touch it, big boy," Wade teased, coughing up a bit of blood into Logan's mouth. "I promise not to cum in your hand."

"You better not," Logan hissed as his unclawed hand drifted down Wade's front to touch his cock.

He gave Wade a lax stroke, one that made Wade shiver before backing his hips away. Logan laughed mirthlessly at Wade's closeness.

"Now who's a good boy?" You asked, spreading your legs out to coax the men in your direction.

"Don't patronize me, sweetheart."

You sat up further, shifting a pillow out of the way for further use. "Come on, boys. We're not playing anymore."

Logan quickly unsheathed his claws from Wade's side, stashing them in his knuckles and wiping away his blood. "Don't have to tell me twice."

Logan dove into bed, quickly undressing before taking you in his arms. He turned you over onto him, leaving you to press your knees on the bed and line up over his cock.

You worked your hips over his tip, watching his face devolve quickly from hardened to pitiful. Reaching behind you, you guided Logan's cock into your pussy with a loud groan to the ceiling.

"Holy fuck," Wade whispered from the foot of the bed. "I forget how hot you two are."

You smirked, leaning down to kiss Logan; you tasted Wade's blood, the tart remnants of your pussy in the umami of his saliva. Logan's hands roamed down your sides, growling hungrily into your mouth before grabbing thick handfuls of your ass.

He massaged at your thighs and cheeks, slowly working you soft before gliding two fingers into your asshole.

"Wade," Logan tempted, spreading your cheek open while he fingered your hole. "We're waiting for you."

"Fuuuuuck," Wade groaned as your pussy clenched around Logan's hardened length.

He undressed at the foot of the bed then kneeled onto the bed after you two. Ready to guide his cock into you, Wade watched as you started a soft pace on Logan's cock while his fingers pushed in and out of you.

You moaned down at Logan, hissing at the stretch of his fingers as they worked in and out of you. His cock pressed in fully, stretching you at the same time.

"Spit," Logan ordered from underneath you at Wade. He carefully removed his fingers and held them out to him.

Wade lingered a long dribble of spit on Logan's fingers; Logan turned his fingers back to your hole, softening your rim with a few flexes. He slipped them back in, pushing further before ordering Wade to grab the lube from the bedside drawer.

He reached quickly for the bottle, popping the top and coating his cock with a long line of clear lube. Wade tenderly worked his aching cock then dripped more lube over Logan's fingers and your ass.

You whined, leaning into both instances of Logan taking over. Your eyes fluttered, backing into his fingers before meeting his cock thrusting into you.

Logan retracted his fingers again, spreading your worked ass open for Wade to join. "Be gentle."

Wade nodded eagerly, lining his tip to your ass before popping past your rim. The three of you shared a deep sigh of euphoric relief, with both of their tips colliding between your walls.

You broke and collapsed against Logan, raising your ass to participate though your heart was racing. Your arms curled around Logan's neck, prompting him to hold you up as he tucked his face to your neck.

You moaned into his ear, feeling Wade begin to thrust before pausing to catch his breath.

"I-I can't last," Wade whimpered, holding your hips still while Logan kept you moving on his length.

He tilted his head back to catch his breath, but Logan clicked his tongue to catch Wade's attention.

"Hey, eyes on me Wade," Logan coaxed, raising his head to free your face. "Look at us."

Wade shook his head, half-blinking as your ass clenched warmly around his length.

"Baby, make him feel better," Logan ordered softly to you, peeling you off of him.

You mewed, raising up on your knees and reaching back to drape your arm over Wade's neck. You pulled Wade's hand around to your clit, his other hand taking grip of your breast.

"This isn't helping," Wade strained in shallow gulps.

"I know, I know," you whined, allowing Wade to rest his chin to your shoulder.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking tight," Wade praised, practically holding his breath while holding you still on him.

It didn't help though, as Logan continued easing your hips up and down. He stared up at the two of you, eyes raking up and down your conjoined bodies.

He hissed, throwing his head back as his fingers gripped harshly into your thighs. At the same time, you heard the distinct shink of his claws emerging.

You glanced down at his hands, noticed how narrowly his claws missed you; however, they were planted into Wade's thighs. Looking up at Wade, you saw him straining with his bottom lip between his teeth.

"God, come on, baby. I need you to cum right now," Logan ordered, nodding his chin to Wade. "Scrub her clit 'til she cries."

Wade struggled to stay coherent, but did as told; working your clit in circles, you reached a hand out to brace Logan's stomach just as they met against your walls again.

You seethed, hiking up on your knees to avoid the feeling but were caught by Wade's arm tightening around you. He kissed at your neck, his dull fingernails scraping against your stomach.

Finally, you came, pausing between the two of them as your whole body throbbed in stimulation. Wade came instantly, releasing a heavy pant over your shoulder as he thrust into your ass with finality and filled you.

Logan waited out your pulsing walls, enjoying the waves of euphoria over his straining cock, then thrusted into you and came directly against your cervix.

You collapsed against Logan, catching your breath over his chest. Wade planted a foot out to the floor, slowly pulling out of you to witness your dripping ass. His cum slithered forward to your pussy, coating Logan's cock.

He shifted slowly next to Logan, lying down on the bed with enough space for you to lie down between. Logan pulled out of you, shifting you onto the bed before getting up.

He kissed your forehead and left the bedroom in silence. Wade sat up on his elbow, leaning over to kiss your temple. Logan returned, tossing a water bottle at Wade while his cock swang freely between his legs.

Kneeling onto the bed, Logan offered a cool water bottle to your forehead before reaching between your legs to clean you up. After he was done, Logan shut off the overhead light then climbed into bed.

"Go home, Wade," Logan bit out, opening his arm for you to cuddle into his side.

Wade cuddled against Logan's other side, wrapping his arms around the man's bicep before hitching a leg over Logan's waist.

"You big lug, gimme a kiss." Wade teased, leaning in to kiss the corner of Logan's mouth.

From under the comforter, you heard Logan's claws sheath themselves in Wade's thigh and you scoffed in disbelief.

"I am not cleaning the sheets," you muttered, drifting off to sleep.

"Don't worry, he will in the morning." Logan offered.

[leif-writes]

Can you write about the Hanks from Date Everything :D

If you need inspiration, maybe something about what they do when one of them is injured or hurt

Can be either a fanfic or headcanons, so you can choose which one is easier to do :D

The Hanks - Headcanons ☆

Genre: Headcanons || Fandom: Date Everything || No TW or Warnings :) || Kinda short, sorry :c

In terms of injury scenarios, I'd imagine they keep going unless they can't. In the event of a K.O for any reason, they'd probably RUN full speed with the injured Hank with complete disregard for anything (or anyone.)

Sort of like sharks, no one in the house ever sees the Hanks stop moving - even when they appear to be, there's always a slight muscle twitch or a tapping of the foot.

Sometimes they just sit in a circle and - although it seems as if they're doing nothing - they'll stand up and be like "Alright! We've made a decision!"

all spent a whole week learning how to do a back-flip and then did nothing with that skill.

has scared the non-living CRAP out of some objects because sometimes they like to just appear from nowhere and then they start talking about what they did today like they didn't just preform a magic trick.

Stella tried to rope them into her pyramid scheme unsuccessfully; and it went like this: Stella: Well hello Hanks! Could I interest you in signing up to buy some--Hank #4: No thanks brah! Hank #1: We only need one thing, and that thing is--(All:) RED BOWL!!!!!!! Stella didn't speak to them after that.

always happy to speak to the player 'cause "they know so much stuff".

Thanks For Reading :D

[furioussheepluminary]

𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲

pairings: hyunjin x afab!reader, non idoal au, strangers to lovers

synopsis: after flunking a test her friend persuades her to get her mind off it with stuff. instead of getting high with the substance, she gets high on the seller.

warnings: suggestive, crack, candy (don't do drugs)

a/n: heyyy babes! im partially back, but i just did this to overcome my block. i am better ofc but now im busy catching up on what i missed in my real world so...ill be back, enjoyyy, if you have extra eyes for errors no you dont

You.

The sweetheart with the pressed skirts and the highlighters neatly lined up on your desk. You had a planner for every semester, color-coded tabs, sticky notes filled with quotes about hard work and ambition. Scholarship student. Honor roll. Volunteer work on weekends. You were the kind of girl professors remembered—the kind who made the alumni board smile and shake hands a little tighter.

And baby, you wore that pressure like a second skin.

Because being "good" wasn’t just for you. It was for your family back home who had scraped together every dream they could just to send you here. It was for the neighbors who pointed at you like a success story. It was for the little girl you used to be—the one who promised she would make it out and make it matter.

You stayed away from parties.

You stayed away from boys.

You stayed away from trouble.

You had to.

---

The campus library was cold.

Not just in temperature, the fluorescent lights buzzed like dying flies overhead, casting everything in that weird sterile glow, like a hospital for broken dreams. You stared down at the crumpled paper in your hands. Big red letters slashed across it like fresh wounds.

D+.

You blinked at it. Once. Twice. Maybe if you blinked hard enough, it would change. Maybe it would rearrange itself into a B...a C...Anything but what it was.

You had studied so damn hard. Flashcards, mock tests, late-night cramming sessions until your eyes burned. You drank the coffee, you skipped the parties, you wore yourself thin because you knew the stakes. And still, here you were.

A failure.

You felt the heat rising behind your eyes before you could even stop it.

"Y/N!"

Your best friend's voice came soft, careful, like she already knew you were teetering on the edge of something dangerous. She rushed over, dropping her own books with a thud, her brows knitted in concern.

She crouched beside you at the study table, laying a hand gently on your shoulder.

"Hey... hey, it's okay. It's just one test, darling. It's not the end of the world—" You yanked your shoulder away before she could finish, your whole-body stiff and trembling.

"Don't—!"

The word came out sharper than you meant, jagged and raw, and your friend's eyes widened slightly. But you were past the point of caring. Your voice cracked as you stood up too fast, the chair screeching backward obnoxiously loud.

"I did everything right," you choked out. "Everything. I worked my ass off. I did everything they told me to do, and it still wasn't enough! It’s never enough!" You felt it break then your anger giving way to the helpless sob sitting stubbornly in your chest. Your throat burned. Your hands trembled.

"Y/N..."

She caught you this time when you stumbled, gathering you into a hug as the dam finally burst. You shook in her arms, silent tears leaking down your cheeks, your body going limp with exhaustion. She rubbed soothing circles on your back, whispering soft nothings like "it's okay" and "you’re not alone," but the words barely registered over the static screaming in your mind.

When you finally pulled away, she tucked your hair gently behind your ear, giving you a look that was all understanding and mischief tangled into one.

"You need to blow off some steam," she said, her tone shifting into something lighter, coaxing a weak, watery laugh from you.

"I mean it. You're gonna combust if you don’t. Listen—there’s this party happening Saturday. Off-campus. Lowkey but... not really. I know some people who could seriously help you forget this week ever happened."

You sniffed, wiping at your eyes like a kid caught crying in the playground.

"A party?" you muttered, half-horrified, half-tempted.

It wasn’t like you.

But God, wasn’t that the point?

Your best friend smirked a little, knowing she had you halfway convinced already. She leaned closer, dropping her voice into a conspiratorial whisper.

"I’ll introduce you to my guy friends. They're... cool. Different. You'll like them."

You hesitated. Your heart hammered at the idea of stepping even one foot off the carefully paved road you’d spent years walking. But sitting here, broken and tired and humiliated, you realized—

The road hadn’t saved you. Maybe it was time to step off it. You wiped your hands over your face, took a deep, shaky breath, and finally, finally nodded.

"Fine," you mumbled.

"One night."

Your friend grinned like she’d just won a bet.

"Atta girl."

---

You stood stiffly in front of the mirror, your hands clenching the hem of your skirt so tightly it crinkled. The reflection staring back at you didn’t even feel like you. Your friend was crouched in front of you, lipstick in one hand, a determined glint in her eyes.

"Stop moving," she said, grinning. "You’re gonna look so hot, it’s criminal."

You tried to smile. It came out weak, strained at the edges.

The outfit she chose for you was way outside your comfort zone—tiny black skirt, strappy crop top, leather jacket thrown over your shoulders to "ease you into it" (her words).

Your makeup was bolder than anything you ever dared to wear.

Smoky eyes, glossy lips. A version of you that looked ready to set the night on fire, even though inside, you felt more like soggy wood.

Your legs shifted nervously in place, the heels feeling foreign, unsteady. "Are you sure this isn’t... too much?" you asked, biting your lip. You stared at yourself again, trying to reconcile the you you knew with the you you were pretending to be.

Your best friend stood up, placing both hands firmly on your shoulders.

She leaned in, locking eyes with you in the mirror.

"Y/N," she said firmly, "you are gorgeous. You just don’t let yourself see it most days. Trust me tonight, okay?"

You hesitated, the weight of your nerves thick in your chest.

Then you nodded.

A tiny, scared nod, but a nod nonetheless.

"Atta girl," she smiled, bumping her forehead lightly against yours.

She grabbed her keys, swinging them around her finger with a casual confidence you could only dream of, and tossed you a wink.

"Let’s go blow some minds."

The drive to the party felt both too long and too short. The city lights blurred past the windows, all neon and chaotic, matching the buzz under your skin. Your friend sang along softly to the music she put on something bass-heavy and lazy, like it didn’t care who it seduced.

You twisted your fingers together in your lap, trying not to think too hard.

As she pulled onto a quieter street, you saw the house in the distance.

Already, there were people spilling out onto the lawn, solo cups in hand, voices raised in wild laughter. Music thudded from inside low and thick, a heartbeat you could feel in your ribs.

Your stomach twisted.

At the red light before the turn, your friend reached over and squeezed your hand.

"Hey," she said, voice soft now. "Listen to me. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, okay? One wrong vibe, you say the word, and we’re out. No questions, no guilt trips. Pinky promise."

She held up her pinky, wiggling it in front of your face. You smiled for real this time—small, grateful—and hooked your pinky with hers. It was stupid and childish but somehow exactly what you needed.

"Thanks," you whispered. "Always, baby girl," she grinned, letting go as the light turned green. The car rolled up toward the house, headlights catching flashes of students you recognized and a whole lot you didn’t. Somebody was already half-passed out on the front porch. You swallowed hard. This wasn’t your scene. This wasn’t your world. But tonight, for just a little while you were stepping off the road. Your friend parked a little ways down, turning off the ignition and turning to you with a wicked smirk.

"Ready to get a little stupid?"

You laughed, nerves and adrenaline tangling in your chest.

"Not really," you said honestly.

She bumped her shoulder against yours. "Perfect. That’s when the best shit happens." You both climbed out into the night, heels clicking on the pavement, leather jacket heavy across your shoulders. You tugged it tighter around yourself like armor.

Inside, the house pulsed with life.

The door swung open before you could knock, laughter and smoke curling out like welcoming arms. The house swallowed you whole the moment you stepped inside.

It wasn’t just noise it was living. The bass of the music slammed into your chest like a second heartbeat, making your ribs vibrate. Everywhere you looked, there were people draped across furniture, spilling drinks onto worn hardwood floors, laughing too loudly, moving in rhythms half a beat too slow or too fast. The air was thick, syrupy sweet, tainted with something almost electric.

A haze clung near the ceiling—smoke from god-knows-what—and the sharp bite of cheap alcohol hung in every breath.

The lighting was low, a chaotic mess of fairy lights strung carelessly along the walls, some blinking, some dead altogether.

It threw the whole room into this weird, half-lit dream where nothing looked quite real.

You clutched your jacket tighter around yourself, swallowing hard. God, you already felt out of place. Like a sore thumb dipped in glitter. But your best friend—beautiful, fearless, reckless—grabbed your hand and tugged you deeper into the crowd with a grin.

"C'mon, meet my people," she said, practically yelling over the music. You followed, weaving through bodies until you landed in a somewhat less suffocating corner where a group was huddled around a sagging couch. There were introductions you barely caught names flung casually into the smoke, faces blurred by the strobe of some dying LED light. Someone handed you a drink (you didn't ask what it was, and you weren’t sure you wanted to know), and for a while—surprisingly—you almost relaxed. The laughter was contagious, the jokes easy, the chatter flowing like warm river water.

You even laughed once. A real laugh, the kind that caught you off guard.

It felt... good. Foreign, but good.

You started thinking, Maybe this isn’t so bad. Maybe I needed this.

Until—

"Hey," your best friend's voice cut through the fog, soft and careful, right by your ear.

You turned to find her smiling at you—a little too sweetly. Immediate alarm bells.

"What," you said flatly, narrowing your eyes. She rocked back on her heels, trying to play it casual. "Okay, so... I didn’t just bring you here to, you know, socialize." You stared at her. Her grin widened sheepishly.

"Oh no," you said immediately, taking a step back.

"No. Whatever it is, no."

"Wait, wait!" she laughed, grabbing your arm to steady you.

"You’ve been so stressed lately, baby, I just—listen, there’s this new candy going around."

Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "It’s not like the usual shit. It’s different. Good different. Like—light, clean, almost makes you feel like you're floating."

You recoiled like she’d just offered you a live grenade.

"Candy?" you echoed, disbelief painting every syllable.

She nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling.

"Yeah, yeah! It's like—flavored now too. Blue raspberry, strawberry, mango... You barely taste the chemical. It’s honestly amazing."

You shook your head, hard. "I’m not trying any—anything," you hissed.

"Especially not from a party full of strangers who can't even stand up straight."

She pouted dramatically. You crossed your arms. "Even if I wanted to," you said, voice dripping sarcasm, "which I don’t—who here would even have it?" That’s when her expression changed.

Just a flicker. The tiniest, guiltiest little smirk pulling at her lips.

Your stomach dropped. "No," you said instantly, hands coming up like you could physically push the idea away.

"No. No. Hell no—absolutely not—"

She laughed, biting her lip to keep from laughing harder, and leaned in closer like she was about to tell you the world’s worst-kept secret.

"I know a guy," she whispered.

You stared at her like she’d grown a second head.

"A guy?" you repeated, deadpan.

She nodded, looking way too pleased with herself. "He’s here tonight," she added, voice sing-song. " You’ll know him when you see him." You glared at her, heart hammering against your ribs.

"I hate you," you muttered.

"You love me," she winked, already tugging you by the sleeve toward the deeper part of the house, where the lights were darker and the music hit heavier. "And trust me," she called over her shoulder, voice lilting, teasing, almost daring—

"Once you meet him, you’re gonna thank me."

"You’re insane," you hissed, your hand locked around your best friend’s wrist as she dragged you through the crowd. She didn’t even look back. Her smile was wide, wild, laced with that glint she always got when she was about to ruin your life “for fun.”

"You’ll live," she sang, tossing her hair over her shoulder like this was some kind of spa retreat instead of a warehouse party that smelled like sweat and sins.

“I don’t want to do this—” you started.

“—But you will,” she interrupted sweetly, spinning around just enough to walk backward in front of you. Her grin widened. “Because deep down, you’re curious.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Curious about death?”

“No, baby. Curious about him.”

That shut you up. Just long enough for her to find the host—tall, tatted, and shirtless with a joint tucked behind one ear.

She leaned in, whispered something into his ear, and you saw the shift immediately.

He looked at you. Then looked away. Then nodded, jerking his thumb toward the staircase like it was some kind of sacred passage. Your heart thudded. You weren’t sure if it was nerves or instinct or maybe some chemical floating in the air that was already getting to you. The host didn’t say much. He just started walking.

You followed. Up the narrow stairs, the music from below muffled with every step, swallowed by thick carpet and the weight of something else something unspoken.

The second floor was nothing like the first. It was quieter. Cooler. Dimmer. The walls were bathed in low amber light, shadows kissing the corners of the ceiling. The smell of weed still lingered but it was cleaner here. No bodies pressed up on you. Just tension. You and your bestie stopped in front of a plain beige door except there was nothing plain about it. Not the way the host stood before it, like he was entering a goddamn chapel. Not the way your pulse surged in your ears.

He knocked in a rhythm.

Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.

Three beats. Deliberate.  You barely had time to ask what the hell that meant before the door creaked open.

And then—

There he was. Hwang Hyunjin. Not a man. Not a boy. A myth standing in flesh, leaning into the doorframe like sin was second nature. Thick black sunglasses hid his eyes, but you felt them.

Watching you. Eating you alive. A leather jacket hung off one shoulder, worn and heavy, the collar dipped low enough to show the soft stretch of his collarbone beneath an army-green tee.

There were rings on nearly every finger—silver, heavy, clicking softly as he tapped one against the wood of the door.

The campus knew of him long before they knew him.

Hwang Hyunjin—the name alone carried this weighty, smoky air like a legend passed around in dorm rooms and late-night parties. No one really knew where he came from exactly; transfer student, runaway, trust fund rebel—every rumor had a different flavor, but they all agreed on one thing:

He was untouchable.

Hyunjin rolled through campus like a storm dressed in leather and silver. White hair buzzed, gold chains, heavy rings, combat boots that thudded against the marble floors. And those sunglasses... indoors, at night, during exams—no one questioned it anymore. Because Hyunjin wasn’t just a student.

He was the Candyman.

If you needed something to survive a brutal week—pills to stay awake, smoke to mellow out, a little powder to blur the edges of a rough night—Hyunjin was the one you found. Or, more accurately, he found you. It wasn’t about the money for him, not really. He had it. It wasn’t even about power, even though the campus bent and buzzed around him like bees to honey.

It was about control. About being the one thing everyone secretly needed but no one dared to claim in the daylight.

 His lips curled into a lazy smirk. That type of smirk. The kind that says, I already know what you’re gonna ask… and I already know you’ll beg for it.

"Yoo," he greeted your bestie casually, voice low and smooth as dark honey.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek like it was tradition. Like she was just another regular in his church of temptation. Your stomach twisted. He hadn’t even looked at you yet. Your friend tilted her head toward you.

"This is my girl," she said, smiling like this was some kind of glorious gift she was offering him.

"She’s curious."

That made him move.

His head turned—slow, precise.

And then—finally—his eyes landed on you.

Even behind the glasses, you felt it. The shift. The sting. The trap. He didn’t speak. Didn’t smile. Just looked at you like you were something breakable and delicious all at once. You felt your heart stumble. The hallway air seemed to thicken, weighed down by his silence, by the way he looked at you. Slowly, he stepped aside. Just enough to let the door open wider.

He didn’t ask your name. Didn’t ask what you wanted.

Just said, quietly,

"Come in."

When you stepped past the threshold, it hits you like a velvet slap. The smell. It’s thick. Heavy. A mix of sweet syrupy grape-flavored smoke, musk, and something spicy like cinnamon gum and danger. Not the kind of weed scent that clings to a hoodie after a backyard sesh. No, this is premium, imported, rolled by hands that know rituals better than religion.

And the room? It’s a vibe. The lighting’s low and moody—just a few red LED strips curling along the corners of the ceiling like blood vessels, and a neon pink sign over the bed that reads:

 SWEET TOOTH.

There’s no overhead light. Just shadows dancing in corners. A king-sized bed with deep wine-colored silk sheets lies untouched, perfectly made like it hasn’t been used yet tonight but the couch, the couch is war-torn. It’s low to the ground, plush, velvet, L-shaped, and crowded.

Four people lounge across it—two girls, legs tangled, laughing with their heads thrown back like everything’s funny when you’re high enough. One guy with dyed blue hair lazily exhaling smoke from a rose gold vape pen, letting it curl around the room like a spell.

And another guy with locs and a septum ring sitting shirtless on the floor in front of them, nodding to the bass playing low from a speaker tucked into the shelf—some underground R&B that makes you feel drunk just listening.

There’s a low glass table in the center. On it? Everything from edibles shaped like gummy bears to powdered "candy" in sleek, silver tins. A tray with perfectly rolled joints stacked like cigars. A black lighter shaped like a skull. Half-drunk wine glasses and three bottles of expensive vodka with the caps missing. It’s organized chaos. It’s the kind of place where secrets are currency. Where loyalty is shown in silence. Where rules are only suggestions…unless Hyunjin makes them.

And he?

He glides in like he owns the air itself. His buzzcut looks almost metallic under the light—white-blond and razor-sharp, adding edge to the smoothness of his presence. He doesn’t say much. Doesn’t need to. He snaps his fingers once—not loud, just casual—and someone tosses him a joint. He catches it one-handed, lights it with that skull lighter, then turns to your bestie with a smirk that says this ain’t her first trip.

Your friend? She slides right in. She throws herself onto the couch, instantly welcomed like a sister of the smoke. One of the girls lifts her legs for her to sit, then plops them right back in her lap. The guys dap her up. One even kisses her hand.

She fits here. Like velvet to velvet. She’s already laughing, already high, already home.

And you? You’re standing at the door like a wide-eyed lamb in a room full of predators with perfect cheekbones. Hyunjin notices. Of course he does. He walks past you—not looking, not touching, but his presence brushes against you like a breath of hot air.

He leans down by the table, grabs a tin of candy, and offers it to your best friend without a word.

She pops one into her mouth, hums, and turns to you.

"Still nervous, baby?" she teases, licking her bottom lip. "You don’t have to do anything. Just… feel it. Try it. Or don’t. But you gotta breathe."

You’re about to respond when Hyunjin finally speaks. Soft. Lazy. Velvet-over-glass. “You brought her to the garden,” he says, eyes still not on you.

“She can pick the fruit if she wants to.” And now? Now he turns. Finally looks at you, jawline clenched slightly from the drag of the joint between his fingers. His voice is lower this time, smoky.

"What's your name, angel?"

You tell him your name. It comes out soft, stuck somewhere between your lips and the tightness in your chest. He hums it. Slowly. Like he's letting it melt on his tongue.

“Pretty,” he says, letting the word linger in the low fog between you. And then he leans in.

Closer.

He’s not even touching you, not really, but somehow his heat is crawling up your spine like your nervous system has been hijacked. He cocks his head, eyes half-lidded but locked in, and asks,

"So… why’d you come here?" Your throat closes up.

You blink—once, twice—trying to form a sentence that doesn’t sound like “because you look like sin and salvation at the same time.”

Instead, your voice comes out breathy.

“I-I didn’t plan to… My friend, she—she said— I mean I wasn’t gonna—”

Hyunjin grins.

Not mocking. Not smug. But slow and warm like he finds your panic endearing. He raises an eyebrow and taps the side of the tin in his hand.

“You ever tried any before?”

You shake your head quickly. “No. Never.”

“Mmm,” he murmurs. “Then we’ll start with something light.”

He reaches into the tin. Fingers poised. And just before he picks, you blurt it out—

“No—wait!”

Your voice cracks, a little too loud for the hush in the room.

Some heads turn but your bestie just watches, wide-eyed and hopeful like she’s seeing you shed skin for the first time. Hyunjin freezes. His eyes flick up.

You swallow hard.

“I don’t want light,” you whisper. “I want to forget. I want to forget what happened. Please.” It slips out of you, ragged and raw—like someone tore the band aid without warning. Hyunjin stares at you for a long moment. The music fades into background haze. Then he exhales smoke through his nose, slow and thoughtful.

“…Are you sure? Whatever happened can’t be that bad?” Your best friend chuckles from the couch “Yes, yes it was.” And even though your lungs tighten and your stomach flips, you nod.

“Yeah.”

He holds your gaze for a beat longer. Something unreadable flickers in his expression. He doesn’t smile this time. Instead, he reaches into the tin and pulls out a candy glossy, smooth, faintly lavender in color.

“Okay,” he says. “This one’s special.”

You take it with trembling fingers. Place it on your tongue. Let it melt. The taste hits slow at first—floral, citrusy… like honey and thunderstorms.

And then—

Your body begins to slip.

The floor becomes the sky. The air is liquid silk sliding against your skin.

Everything feels warm not hot. Not burning. Just… comfortable. Like slipping into a tub the exact temperature of your soul. Your head lolls back, and a lazy giggle escapes before you can catch it.

“I feel like... like the air is... hugging me,” you slur, your voice soft and half-lidded. “Hugging... hugging real tight.” Hyunjin’s beside you now, arm supporting your back before you even realize your knees started to give. You fall into him. And he lets you. His hand finds your hip like it was made to sit there. The other one gently cups the back of your head, guiding it to rest against his chest. His shirt smells like smoke and sandalwood and something lemony, something fresh.

“You’re okay, angel,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. Your hands clutch his shirt like it’s the only solid thing left in this world. Your words spill like syrup.

“I—mm, I thought you’d be mean... like cold and scary, you know? But you’re... you’re like... warm. Like toast." Hyunjin chuckles. Soft. “Toast, huh?”

“Mmhm. Fancy toast. Like... croissants.”

He laughs again, low and fond, and something about that sound sends goosebumps all down your spine. Meanwhile, your best friend is squealing half-laughing, half-sniffling.

"Look at her! Oh my god, she’s so gone—finally! It’s what she needed."

But Hyunjin doesn’t let you fall apart in public. He gently lifts you, one arm around your waist, the other keeping your head steady against his shoulder.

“Come on,” he says, mostly to himself. “Let’s sit somewhere quieter.”

He guides you to a corner of the room just far enough from the noise. Still low light, but more cushion. A loveseat covered in faux fur and velvet pillows. He settles down, pulling you gently into his lap like it’s instinct. You curl into him, face hidden in his neck. And his arms stay locked around you, firm but not suffocating. Like he’s not going to let you drift too far.

You sigh into his skin.

“Your heart's loud... I can hear it...” Your fingers rest on his chest.

And Hyunjin? He doesn’t say anything. He just lets you listen.

Your body’s loose.

Your thoughts, liquid. You’re sprawled in his lap like he was made to catch you, and maybe he was because he hasn’t let go of you since the second you melted into him. You’re safe here. You know that. But your lips still ache. And your fingers start to wander first curling into the cotton of his tee, then trailing up his chest, brushing the silver chain around his neck. Absent-minded. Delirious.

And then—

You tilt your head up, eyelids heavy, gaze glazed and pleading.

“Hyunjin…”

He hums, low in his throat, not quite a word. His hands rub slow circles into your back. You lick your lips.

“I wanna kiss you.”

Hyunjin goes still. The air changes—like the music pulled back, the shadows leaned in. He clears his throat. “You’re high,” he says softly. “You don’t want that. You just think you do.”

“I do want it,” you mumble. “Been wanting it since you said my name.” He sighs through his nose. “You don’t mean that.”

“Do too,” you pout, slurring. Your fingers slide up to his jaw, tracing the sharp edge of it. “You’re so pretty. You’re like—like an angel that smokes weed and paints with blood.” That pulls a laugh out of him. Raspy, reluctant. But real.

“Jesus,” he mutters, and tries to look away—

But your hand tugs his chin back to face you. “Can I?” Your voice drops into a whisper.

“Can I kiss you? Just a little?” His jaw tightens.

He’s quiet. And you can see it in his eyes—the war. The part of him that wants to be good. Respectful. Safe. But also the part that’s been dying to know what you taste like since you first sat across from him. “You’re not thinking straight,” he murmurs, but it’s not a no. You hear it—the edge in his voice. Like it’s costing him everything to stay still.

“Please, Jinnie…”

The way you say his name? He flinches. Almost imperceptible. But his hand clenches the velvet cushion behind you. You lean in. Close. Lips brushing his cheek, then trailing toward his jaw.

“I just wanna feel something real,” you whisper. “And you feel… real.”

And that’s when he breaks. A breath. Shaky. Shattered. His hand slides to the back of your head. The other curls around your waist like instinct.

“…Just one,” he warns, his voice gravel, threaded with restraint. “Just one and we stop.”

But you’re already leaning in, lips parted—

And when they touch his? Everything stops. The kiss is supposed to be soft. Chaste. But it isn’t. Not when your mouth still tastes like that candy sweet, citrusy, dizzying. Not when your lips part for him so easily. Not when you moan his name into the kiss like you’ve been holding it back for days. Hyunjin groans low in his throat, like the taste is hitting him. The drug lingers on your tongue magnetic, devastating. And it messes with his head.

His grip tightens. The kiss deepens. Your hands find his chest, sliding up his neck to tug at the back of his buzzed hair, and his lips open wider, tongue slipping into your mouth like a man starved. It’s not careful anymore. It’s hungry. You shift in his lap, thighs sliding over his hips, and he lets out a hiss between kisses, one hand falling to your hip to steady you. (But God, he doesn’t want you to stop moving.)

“Shit,” he gasps against your lips. “We shouldn’t—fuck, we shouldn’t—”

But he doesn’t stop. His mouth finds yours again, sloppier this time. Open. Wet. Wanting. You’re gasping now soft, whimpering sounds between kisses, hands all over him like your body’s trying to memorize every ridge of him before the high fades.

Hyunjin is losing it. Your taste, your voice, the way your thighs bracket him so carelessly it’s driving him insane. He pulls back for a second, breath heaving, eyes wild.

“God, you’re gonna ruin me,” he says, voice wrecked.

You smile, dazed and drunk on more than the drug.

His lips are flushed.

Yours are glossy. The air around you is thick with weed smoke and tension, the kind that clings to skin and sinks into your lungs. Music thumps in the background, the kind of rhythm you feel in your chest more than your ears. Someone’s laughing on the other side of the room, but it sounds miles away.

Because all you can focus on is him.

Hyunjin. Eyes gleaming under the hazy lights. Hands warm around your waist. Lips still wet from the last kiss you gave him like he was air and you were drowning.

You giggle against his jaw, all dazed and mischievous.

“You taste like peach gum.” Hyunjin huffs a breathy laugh, cheeks pink, eyes dangerously soft.

“You taste like trouble,” he murmurs.

“And you like trouble, don’t you?” you tease, tilting your head so your lips graze under his jaw dangerously close to that pulse that jumps beneath his skin. He opens his mouth to respond, but you don’t give him the chance.

You kiss him again. Harder this time. Your hands tangle behind his neck, and you press your chest to his like your body already knows exactly where it belongs. His head tips back slightly, letting you take the lead—inviting it, even. Hyunjin’s hands have found your thighs now, gripping gently, but tight enough to let you know he’s still hanging on.

Barely. You move your mouth to his neck, and the second your lips latch onto that soft patch of skin under his ear? He chokes on a breath. His fingers dig in just a little. You start to suck.

Hyunjin swallows hard. “Y/N… f-fuck…” His voice is so wrecked you barely register the click of a phone camera a few feet away. But your best friend sees it all.

Her eyes widen. She zooms. She snaps the picture. And then—

Finally, your bestie calls your name loud.

“Y/N!”

You blink, half-lidded and high, and lazily pull back from Hyunjin’s neck. “Huh?” She points at you from across the room, phone still in hand. “Get off of him! You’re embarrassing yourself, babe!”

You pout like she just took away your favorite toy.

“No…” you murmur, nuzzling back into Hyunjin’s neck. “I wanna stay with him. He’s warm…”

Hyunjin laughs under his breath, half flustered, half wrecked. “You’re really not making this easy, you know that?” You wrap your arms tighter around his neck like a koala. “Don’t wanna be easy.” Hyunjin bites his lip. “Oh my god,” your best friend groans, stomping toward you. “Get your lips off his neck before I come drag you!” You glance at her then back at Hyunjin.

And with the most impish grin?

You go right back in. Hyunjin makes a noise—somewhere between a groan and a laugh—his hands now trying to gently push you off. “Okay, okay, hold on—wait—nope, not the neck again, that one’s still—oh god—Y/N!”

But he’s laughing. He’s loving it. Your lips drag against his throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses as you giggle, high and loose.

Until—

“GIRL, I SWEAR—”

You’re yanked off of him by the arms. “NOOO!” you whine, kicking gently as your best friend pulls you away like an angry mom removing her child from a boy at the playground.

“Let me goooo, I was gonna kiss him again!” Hyunjin leans back on the couch, dazed, buzz a dissarranged mess, neck marked and shining, smiling so wide you’d think he just won the lottery. “You’re insane,” your best friend hisses. “She’s cute,” Hyunjin says with a wink, his fingers brushing the hickey you gave him. “Kinda possessive though.” You reach out for him again like a drunk kitten. “Hyunjinnnnn—”

And he just laughs, shaking his head as he watches your best friend drag you off knowing damn well the second, she lets go? You’ll probably come running back. Hyunjin stands now, eyes low, playful smirk still tugging at his lips as he walks over and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You stare up at him like you’ve just a god.

“One more kiss?” you whisper, voice barely there.

Hyunjin pauses—like he’s considering, fighting every bit of logic in his head—but then he sees your pout. Your hands on his chest. The way your high has made you all gooey and clingy and sweet.

He sighs softly, then tilts your chin up.

“Alright. One more.”

He kisses you gently—slower this time. Less rushed. Less high, more… lingering. His fingers slip into your coat pocket mid-kiss, sliding in something small and smooth. Then—

He leans in again, lips barely brushing your ear.

“Call me when you’re sober. I want to know what you’re like when you remember everything.”

Your breath catches. Your body reacts before your brain can even register it. Goosebumps. Heart hiccuping. He pulls back just enough to see your fluttery expression, then smirks. Your best friend, holding another little bag of candy, gives Hyunjin a nod. “Thanks for the hospitality. She’s gonna be crying about you the entire way home, just so you know.”

He only shrugs, eyes locked on you. “Let her.”

---

You’re slumped in the back seat, head against the window, glossy eyes staring out at the blur of streetlights. The city looks like a dream—golden, liquid, not quite real. Kinda like how your lips still feel. Like he’s still kissing you.

Your best friend glances back at you. “You good?”

You sniffle. “No.”

She sighs. “What now?”

“I miss him…” you whisper dramatically, eyes welling up again. “He was so… perfect. Did you see his lips? Did you feel his voice? Why did you make me leave? Why did you do that to me?!”

Your best friend can’t help it. She laughs. “You’re gonna be so embarrassed tomorrow.”

“I don’t care,” you sniff, pouting. “I wanna call him. I’m gonna call him and tell him I love him.”

“You don’t love him, baby, you’re just high.”

You sit up, teary-eyed and passionate. “No. I love him. And his buzzcut. And his pants. And his hands. And—and the way he whispered in my ear like he meant it!” Your best friend grabs your phone before you can unlock it. “Nooope. You’re not drunk texting a man named Hyunjin at 2am while still tripping.”

“But he put his number in my pocket like a movie, girl…”

“Exactly why you’re not texting him.”

You sniff again, quiet for a beat… then—

“I’m gonna marry him.”

“Oh my god—”

“I’m gonna marry him and we’re gonna have a cat named Bento and he’s gonna kiss me like that every morning—”

“Lord have mercy.”

You curl into the seat, hugging yourself, eyes glassy but soft. “He was so sweet, though… and so pretty…”

And back in the party? Hyunjin’s still sitting on the couch, head tilted back, lips still tingling. Smiling to himself. Your gloss is still on his mouth.

And he doesn’t wipe it off.

---

The second you stumble into the dorm, the scent of Hyunjin—cologne, weed, and that warm skin-sweetness—follows you in like a ghost. You barely make it two steps before your best friend gently tugs on your arm and sets the mini first aid bag she keeps (because she’s that kind of responsible) on the kitchen counter.

“Alright,” she says, flipping the light switch, “before you go all ‘oh-my-god-he’s-the-love-of-my-life’ again, take this.”

You blink down at the painkiller and water bottle she hands you, pouting like she just asked you to eat your vegetables. “Whyyyy?”

“Because your body isn’t used to being blitzed, princess,” she sighs, brushing your hair back, “and tomorrow morning I’m not waking up to you crying in the toilet because your brain feels like scrambled eggs.” You groan dramatically but take it anyway—tossing the pill back and gulping the water down. Then you just stand there, slightly dazed, like you forgot what your body was supposed to do next. Your best friend nudges you toward your bedroom. “Go. Shower. You smell like a party and desperation.”

You scoff, wobbling off with a muttered, “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, bitch…”

You undress slowly, the cool air hitting your flushed skin. Every movement makes your brain feel like it’s lagging, but the moment the hot water hits your back?

He’s there.

Hyunjin. That smirk. That voice. Those lips.

Your fingers brush over your own mouth and you swear you can still feel him. Taste him. It’s like the water only wakes up the memories instead of washing them away. You press your forehead to the wall and groan. “God… I kissed the hottest man alive… and then moaned on his lap like a freakin’ drugged-up romance novel…”

And you didn’t regret a single second. You pad out into your room, towel still wrapped around you, head dizzy—not just from the drugs wearing off, but from something more dangerous: anticipation. You yank open your closet, tug on your oversized sleep shirt with trembling fingers, and then pause… eyes locked on your jacket hanging from the chair.

You rush over and plunge your hand into the pocket like it’s hiding treasure—because it is.

And there it is. Folded. A little crumpled. But still carrying the ghost of his fingers. Hyunjin’s number. Written in quick, slanted handwriting. With a small arrow. And a dumb little smiley face. Like he knew you’d be freaking out about it.

You grab your phone with sweaty hands, unlock it, and type his number in so fast your thumbs trip over themselves. Then you just stare at the message box. What do you even say to a man who kissed you while you were high and whispered the softest threat of obsession into your ear?

Eventually, you settle on something simple. Soft. Just barely flirty.

Y/N: “I’m home. Don’t think I’ll forget your face anytime soon.”

Then you hit send. And drop your phone like it’s radioactive. You climb into bed, sheets cool against your skin, body still thrumming. Every time you close your eyes, he’s there. Every time you breathe, it feels like he’s still on your lips.

You turn over. Then again. Then back. Still nothing. You reach over and check your phone. No reply yet. You groan and throw it on the pillow beside you.

“Hyunjin…” you whisper into the dark, cheeks flushed. “Please don’t ghost me, you beautiful demon…”

And that’s the last thing you remember before the painkiller kicks in, your lashes flutter shut, and you drift off…

Dreaming of slow kisses and smirks that should come with a warning label.

---

The light bleeding through your window is offensive. Aggressive. Your eyes crack open with the kind of regret that clings to your bones. Mouth dry. Muscles sore. Thoughts? Scattered like your dignity at that party. You try to sit up—bad idea. The world does a cute little somersault. You flop back down like a Victorian woman mid-faint.

“…am I dying?” you croak, your voice sounding like a gremlin’s first words.

Your phone buzzes somewhere beside you. You fish around, knock it off the bed, cuss dramatically, then finally snatch it up like a beast reclaiming its prey.

Your screen lights up with two notifications:

 Hyunjin: Couldn’t forget you if I tried. Let me know when you wanna kiss me while sober.

Crazy AHH: 4 Attachments. Caption: MY GIRL WAS GONEEEEEE LMAOOO

Your soul leaves your body. Ascends. Then crash-lands straight back into your chest with a painful thump. You open the photos. And boom—there you are.

—Straddling Hyunjin’s lap.

—Your hand in his buzzcut.

—Your face halfway eaten by his.

—One pic is blurry because you’re literally giving him a hickey with enthusiasm.

You let out the most horrified gasp known to man. “I WAS A MENACE.” You don’t bother changing. You don't brush your teeth. You're marching down the hall like a woman on a mission—shirt askew, socks mismatched, your hair doing post-apocalyptic things.

You throw open your best friend's door like you pay rent for it. “WHAT. THE. FUCK.” She’s sitting cross-legged, happily eating dry cereal out the box. Doesn’t even flinch. “Good morning, slut.”

“DELETE. THOSE. PHOTOS.”

She squints, pops another Frosted Flake into her mouth. “Hmm... no.”

“YOU TOOK A PICTURE OF ME TONGUING A STRANGER—”

“Technically not a stranger. Technically a drug-dealing, underground-party-hosting, buzzcut-having, Greek-god-lookin’ legend.” She grabs her phone and waves it. “And technically? I took four.”

You groan and faceplant into her bed. Your muffled voice whines, “I gave him a hickey… I think I begged him to kiss me…”

“Oh, you begged all right,” she hums proudly. “Full-on ‘please daddy I need it’—like a champ.”

“Kill me.”

“Can’t. You’re finally interesting now.”

You roll over, dazed. “God… I barely remember anything. It’s like flashes. Warm hands. Cold couch. His mouth…” She sits beside you, patting your thigh. “I gotchu. Here's the SparkNotes version: You showed up, shy. He showed up, hot. You tasted one slightly rebellious candy drug and then proceeded to fall in lust like a Disney princess on molly.”

You groan again, pulling a pillow over your face. “I have to apologize. Like, actually. To his face. I was so embarrassing—he probably thinks I’m a psycho.” She gives you a look. “Babe… you kissed him like the rent was due.”

“EXACTLY. I need to apologize or die trying.”

“Well, good luck with that,” she chirps, hopping up. “You’ll probably never see him again. Hyunjin doesn’t do public appearances like that. Man’s like the final boss of a video game. Rare sightings only.”

You blink. “Wait… seriously?”

She shrugs. “I’ve only seen him four times. And once was in a dream. Whenever he’s doing transactions and stuff he’s rarely the one delivering by himself.” You sit there, pillow clutched to your chest, brain slowly rebooting. You want to laugh. Cry. Apologize to the ghost of your sober self. Then you grab your phone again and reread his message.

Couldn’t forget you if I tried. Let me know when you wanna kiss me while sober. Your heart does a little somersault.

You whisper, almost reverently, “Maybe… just maybe... I’m his glitch.”

Your best friend throws a sock at you.

“Get your high ass up and drink some water, Romeo.”

Back in your room, the walls feel too quiet. Like they’re watching you. Judging you. Whispering behind your back like, “That’s the girl who turned into a Greek tragedy over a man with cheekbones.”

You shut the door and lean your forehead against it. You exhale.

“…okay,” you murmur to yourself. “Okay. Breathe. Be normal. Apologize. Then die.”

You shuffle over to your bed, plop down like you’re made of wet laundry, and snatch your phone again. Hyunjin’s message is still glowing on the screen like a taunt:

Couldn’t forget you if I tried. Let me know when you wanna kiss me while sober.

Your thumbs hover.

You type:

Hey, I'm so sorry—

Backspace.

Hi, I really didn’t mean to—

Backspace.

This is embarrassing but—

Delete.

You sigh, fingers shaking like you’re defusing a bomb. Then you finally send:

Hey. I’m so sorry for last night. I was out of it. Like... a lot. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or weird you out. I never do that. I’m not even the type to go out like that. I literally came for candy and my best friend.

You watch the little “Delivered” icon appear. Then panic sets in. So you send another.

Like, I’ve never even smoked anything before. Not even cigarettes. Or like… cinnamon sticks. Okay that’s not a drug but you get what I mean.

Another.

The point is I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a mess. You were really sweet and I probably acted like a drunk toddler and I kissed you without permission even though I begged and like—

You don’t stop.

—you probably think I’m crazy now but I promise I’m not I just had a lot on my mind and I kinda wanted to forget everything and you were there and you were really hot and then your lips tasted like strawberry sin and I kind of malfunctioned—

Before you can finish another unhinged paragraph, your phone buzzes violently.

Incoming Call: Hyunjin

You stare at it like it’s a mirage. Then, after a full 3 seconds of panic-screaming into your pillow, you pick up.

“H-Hello?”

There’s a chuckle. Low. Warm. Smooth like velvet soaked in caffeine.

“Damn, angel. Did your thumb get possessed or something?”

You groan, already facepalming. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That was a spiral. I spiraled. I tunneled. I backflipped into hell.” “Yeah, I could tell,” he laughs. “I was trying to respond, but you were texting like your life depended on it.”

“It did!!” you cry dramatically. “I defiled you in public and now I’m gonna get banned from every party within a five-mile radius.”

“Oh please,” he snorts. “If anything, you just made the party memorable. And gave me a free neck tattoo.” You whimper. “You moaned, didn’t you?”

“…A gentleman never confirms nor denies such things.”

You groan again and flop backward on the bed, phone against your cheek.

Then, quieter, “I just… I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’ve never been that out of it before.” His voice softens. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I was just trying to be careful with you.”

A pause. “Did you mean what you said? About trying to forget something?” You swallow. “Yeah. I just had a rough week. And for a second, when I was with you, it felt like none of it mattered.”

The line goes quiet. Then he murmurs, “Well… for the record? I liked holding you. You talk a lot when you’re high. But it was cute.”

“…I talk a lot when I’m sober too,” you mumble, a bit shy now.

“I know,” he says smugly. “I read your entire novel in real-time.”

You both laugh, and the sound makes your chest warm. Then he hums, voice deepening just a touch. “So… you still wanna kiss me while sober?”

Your breath catches.

“…maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

You’re curled up on your bed, tangled in your sheets like some post-drama princess, phone still pressed to your ear like it’s a lifeline. Hyunjin’s chuckling softly on the other end, and your cheeks are still warm from the way he said “I’ll take that as a yes.” Like it was obvious. Like you were already his.

You roll your eyes, trying not to smile too wide.

Then he drops it, real casual:

“So… when can I take you out?”

You blink. “Wait, what?”

“A date, babe,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You, me, daylight. I wear a shirt with sleeves. We eat food. Talk without the scent of questionable choices in the air.”

You sit up a little. “…You wanna take me out.”

“Mhm.”

You frown, trying to piece together the logic. “But… I’ve never seen you on campus. Like ever. You just—appear at parties like the final boss of temptation and then vanish.” You hear his breath hitch in a laugh. “The final boss of temptation, huh? That’s a new one.”

You shoot back, “Don’t dodge it. Seriously. Why now? Why start showing up now?” There’s a pause. A short one. Then he exhales through his nose.

“I don’t really hang out on campus unless I have to. Most of my classes are online this semester, and… I guess I just keep to my space. Fewer people, less noise.”

He adds after a beat, “I’m not… sketchy. No offense taken. I get why you’d think that. I just know when I’m in the right place, with the right people, and when I’m not.”

You stay quiet. Processing.

“And about last night,” he continues, voice steady. “That wasn’t me out of control. I don’t take anything unless I know I can handle it. There’s always someone there I trust, and I don’t make it a habit. No addiction. No spiraling. Just sometimes… I need a little quiet in my head too. You get that?”

You do. God, you do.

“So…” he says again, soft and sweet like caramel left too long in the sun. “Give me a chance. Let me show up. No candy, no smoke, just me. Sober. Present. And I promise you—”

You hear the smile in his voice.

“—the sober kiss will be worth it.”

You groan, flopping back against your pillows with your arm thrown over your face. “You’re so annoyingly smooth.”

“I really am,” he agrees smugly.

You exhale. Your heart’s doing that annoying thing again thudding way too fast for someone who was just whining into her pillow about this man twenty minutes ago. But then you smile, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“…Okay.”

“Yeah?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Hyunjin. You can take me out.”

He exhales dramatically. “Thank God. I was one dramatic inner monologue away from begging.”

You snort. “I was already there last night.” “I remember,” he teases. “Vividly.” You’re already regretting this. And also looking forward to it way too much.

---

Parked just outside the gates of your dorm area, it’s warm in the backseat of Hyunjin’s car. Not temperature warm, energy warm. Like the windows are fogged with heat they didn’t even notice rising. Your fingers are tangled in the lapels of his jacket, your lips still tingling from the last breathless kiss, and Hyunjin’s hands are at your waist, thumb tracing soft, unconscious circles against your top. You both pause, lips inches apart, breathing each other in, and then he laughs. Quiet. Airy. Disbelieving.

“How did we even get here?” he mutters, forehead brushing yours.

You grin, leaning back just enough to raise a brow.

“Oh, I’ll tell you how,” you say, poking his chest, and he watches you like you’re a slideshow of every one of his favorite moments.

 Earlier That Night

It started at that art café you never knew existed—dim lights, jazz playing low, the scent of coffee and paint lingering in the air. Hyunjin had booked one of the private studio pods in the back. You raised a brow when you walked in and saw the two canvases and all the paint.

“Don’t tell me we’re painting each other,” you teased.

“I was gonna say your soul,” he replied dramatically. “But sure, your face works.”

You both ended up painting… chaos. He painted a cartoon version of you with exaggerated lips and a crown of Cheetos, and you drew a sad pigeon with his hairstyle. You laughed so hard your stomach cramped, and Hyunjin got paint on your nose—on purpose. Then he wiped it off with his sleeve like a gentleman, only to accidentally smear green on your cheek.

Afterward, he took you for tacos. Not a fancy restaurant. A literal taco truck parked near the river with plastic chairs and napkins that flew if you didn’t hold them down.

“I like it simple,” he said with a shrug, handing you a bottle of Jarritos. “Besides, the best dates end with oil stains on your shirt.”

“Bold of you to assume this is one of the best,” you teased.

He tilted his head, smiled lazily. “It is.”

You tried not to blush. Failed. He noticed.

Then came the riverside walk. He didn't rush it. You talked about favorite movies, bad habits, weird childhood dreams. You found out he used to write poetry. He found out you used to pretend you were on a reality show whenever you were alone in your kitchen.

“I still do,” you admitted, and he laughed so hard he tripped over a pebble.

The stars came out. You leaned into his side.

And now—backseat of his car. Lips swollen. Breath short.

“So yeah,” you whisper now, fingers tugging gently at his jacket. “That’s how we got here. From pigeons to tacos to… tongue.”

Hyunjin grins, gaze flicking to your lips. “What a cinematic journey.” You hum, thumb brushing over his cheek. “Can we go back to making out now?” His grin turns slow and sinful. “Sure thing, baby.” You slap his chest. “Don’t—call me that.”

He leans closer. “Why not, baby?” You whine, actually whine, and smash your lips to his.

The kiss that follows is messier than the last. Greedier. No pauses this time. His hands find your thighs, your fingers curl in his hair, and he moans quietly into your mouth when your teeth graze his bottom lip.

It’s intoxicating—the way you fit, the way the tension coils tighter with each touch. His jacket ends up discarded somewhere between the seats, and your lipstick is absolutely wrecked. He doesn’t care. Neither do you.

And when he pulls away for breath, pupils blown and lips swollen, he smirks.

“We should get lost more often.”

The windows of Hyunjin’s car are fogged over, the air thick with warmth and echoes of every kiss traded like secrets. Now, your head rests on his shoulder, your fingers curled lightly into the folds of his sleeve, and his arm is slung lazily around your waist like he couldn’t let go even if he tried.

It’s silent for a while.

Not awkward—comfortable. Like the universe finally stopped spinning for just the two of you.

You sigh, tilting your head slightly to look at him. “Can I ask you something?” Hyunjin turns his gaze down to you, that soft half-smile forming again. “You already are, aren’t you?”

You flick his chest gently. “I’m serious.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, shifting so he’s facing you a little more, one leg folded up on the seat. “What’s on your mind, pretty?” You play with the hem of his hoodie for a second, then look up. “How’d you get into… all this? The candy. The job. Everything.”

His smile dims—not in a sad way, more in a way that says he wasn’t expecting that, but he’s not running from it either. He looks away for a beat, his thumb still stroking circles into your side.

“It started with my cousin,” he says after a moment. “He was older. Got into the wrong crowd, dragged me along when I was still trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life. First time I ever touched anything was at a house party with him. I hated it.”

You glance up at him. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “I hated how it made me feel like I wasn’t in control. But then… life kept hitting. My parents got divorced. I flunked out of a program I didn’t even care about. Everyone expected me to be something I wasn’t, and—” he sighs, resting his head back against the seat. “Taking just the right amount? Made me feel like I had room to breathe again.”

You nod slowly, your hand finding his and holding it. “Do you take it often now?”

“Not really.” He looks at you again. “I know my limit. I help people who don’t. I only ever take it when I’m sure of myself. When I’m in control.” You study his profile. He looks so different in the dark. Less cool. More real. More Hyunjin, less the mystery boy with perfect lips and a car too nice for a college kid.

You lean your head on his chest. “What would you be doing if you weren’t in that world?”

His voice is quiet, but honest. “I’d be painting.” You blink. “Painting?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles softly. “I actually got a partial scholarship to an art school. Didn’t take it. Thought it was stupid. Thought I was stupid.”

“You’re not,” you say immediately, looking up at him. “I think you’re—actually… you’re kind of amazing.” He lets that settle between you two for a second, then smiles—one of those real ones, the ones that tug at the corner of his lips slowly and warm his entire face.

“You think so, huh?”

You nod, cheeks heating. “Mhm.”

“Even after I gave you that sneaky light candy?”

You gasp in betrayal. “You lied to me?!”

“I saved you from passing out,” he laughs, nudging you with his shoulder. You’re both still giggling when you check your watch and—shit.

“Crap,” you sit up straighter, reaching for your phone. “I didn’t realize it’s so late. I have a lecture at eight, and if I show up hungover from sugar and spit-swapping, my professor will literally murder me.” Hyunjin chuckles, adjusting his seat so you can climb out more easily. “You sure you have to go?”

You look at him, biting your lip. “I really want to stay.”

He shrugs, running a hand through his hair. “Then make me your reward for surviving class.” You roll your eyes. “Wow. Humble.”

“But honest.” You lean forward, kiss his cheek. “Thanks for tonight.”

He tugs your wrist gently before you go, pressing one last kiss to your lips, softer than the others. “Sweet dreams, pretty. Text me when you get to your room, yeah?”

You smile. “I will.” And as you step out into the night, the cold biting against your skin, you swear you feel a little warmer than before.

---

The next morning, Hyunjin’s car still smelled like her.

Faint traces of her perfume clung to the back seat—warm, soft, something expensive-smelling but chaotic, like her. Like a scent that didn’t belong to one person, but to a thousand moments all tangled up together. The memory of her fingers curled in his shirt, the whimper she made when he bit her lip too gently, of her voice whispering “Can we go back to making out now?”—

Yeah. He was doomed. Hyunjin leaned back in the driver’s seat, now parked outside his place, staring at the ceiling like it might give him answers. His phone buzzed beside him. Not a notification. Not even a new text. Just the screen lighting up every few minutes from him checking it over and over again.

No new messages yet.

She’d made it back to her dorm. Texted him that she was in. Sent a sleepy, slurred voice note that said something like “Tell your backseat I said thanks for the ride, and your lips, too.”

God, he’d replayed it three times.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She’s unhinged. He liked it. More than liked it. There was something wild about her. Something he couldn’t predict, couldn’t label. One minute she was pressing kisses down his neck like she owned him, the next she was asking him about his past with eyes full of genuine curiosity—not pity. Not judgment.

Real. She was real. In a way nothing else in his life had been for a long time. Most people flirted with him because they liked the thrill of his mystery, the edge of danger that came with his name. But not her. Not Y/N. She didn’t want the high. She wanted him. She asked him about his cousin. His art. His stupid dreams. Stuff no one ever cared about unless they were trying to get something.

She wasn’t trying to get anything.

Except maybe another kiss. He groaned, grinning at nothing. He hated being soft. He despised it.

And yet…

The softest he’d ever been was last night—his hands running down her spine as she giggled against his lips, her voice sleepy in his car, her smile tucked into his chest like it belonged there.

He grabbed his phone again. Opened her contact. No message yet. He typed something out. Deleted it. Tried again. Deleted that too. Eventually, he just saved her contact name as Backseat Bandit and laughed to himself. God, he was so gone.

Hyunjin turned the engine off, leaning forward to rest his head on the wheel. “What am I doing?”

Then his phone buzzed. A new message.

From her.

[YN]: Hey. Made it to class. Barely. I blame you. Also my lips still tingle. I think I hate you. But not really. Just a little. Okay bye.

Hyunjin smiled down at the screen like a complete fool.

Then typed out his reply:

[Hyunjin]: Still thinking about last night? Same. Hope your lecture’s boring so you think about me more. Also—I miss your lip gloss. And your mouth. In that order.

Send. He tossed his phone onto the passenger seat, smirking.

Let the chaos begin.

the picture did a number on me and i don't care if its edited.

Taglist: purple means i can't tag you

@whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @alisonyus @rockstarkkami @morkleesgirl @pessimisticloather @yooingiismylove2018 @imeverycliche @katchowbbie @pixie-felix @maisyyyyyy @katyxstay @day138 @necrozica @nebugalaxy @jeonginnieswifey @iknow-uknow-leeknow @leeknow-minho2 @sh0rdor1 @jitrulyslayyed @igotajuicyass @imagine-all-the-imagines @lillymochilover @idol-dream-catcher @maxidential @ari-hwanggg @xxxxmoonlightxxx @rossy1080 @hanniebunch @tricky-ritz @woozarts @Zerillia @queenofdumbfuckery @btch8008s @jamroses

Check out my pinned if you want to be added to the taglist!

~kc 💗

[5iyoomi]

Thangyu NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: poly!thangyu x fem!reader, they're probably so ooc here I'm so sorry, not proofread I'm posting this at 4 am, mentions of drugs & alcohol, implied dubcon/under-negotiated kink in one part, somnophilia, just general smut stuff A/N: FINALLY POSTING AFTER 20 YEARS LMAO. If this sucks don't @ me the last time I wrote was idek how long ago now

nsfw under the cut

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

☆ If we’re being real here aftercare with them heavily depends on how they’re feeling…. But either way it’s pretty minimal, especially considering one of them practically falls asleep immediately (Thanos). Nam-gyu will make sure you’re all cleaned up and run you a bath if he feels like dealing with the mess right after. 

Thanos on the other hand takes it upon himself to cuddle up to you, long limbs entangled with yours as he presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek or forehead and murmurs sweet nothings you can’t make out half the time.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

☆ Both of them are tits men, it doesn’t matter if they’re big or small, they don’t give a shit. Even in a non-sexual manner, Thanos just likes to keep his hands under your shirt since he tends to run cold and it’s one of many excuses to be close to you. 

Nam-gyu isn’t as vocal about it but he doesn’t try to hide it. Whether it’s with an arm slung around your shoulder and his palm brushing your breasts, or full on touching you if he thinks another guy’s getting too close for comfort, you’ve gotten used to the constant feeling of hands on you.

On that note, Thanos’ favorite body part is his hands. He doesn’t necessarily get full on manicures, but he does take good care of them. He adores how big they are compared to yours and even Nam-gyu’s. The mere sight of his thick fingers wrapped around your smaller wrists never fails to make him dizzy.

If Nam-gyu had to choose, he’d say his hair. He likes when you tug at it while he eats you out because then he knows he’s doing something right. He gets greedy with it, guiding you to run your fingers through his hair just for the hell of it sometimes, or (not so) begrudgingly saying yes when you ask to braid it or put it in a ponytail.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

☆ Both of these freaks like to cum inside you and watch it spill out of you but especially Nam-gyu. There’s something about marking his territory that gets the raven-haired man off, because only he and Thanos get to fill you up to their heart's content. 

If there’s time for a quickie he’ll go about his day with a smug look on his face knowing you’re walking around dripping his and Thanos’ seed into your underwear. That if anyone were to flirt with you you’d be reminded that no one satisfies you like they do.

Thanos likes how it glistens on you after you blow him and let him cum on your face, using his thumb to further smear it on your skin until you’re whining in protest. It’s his way of staking his claim, in a way.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

☆ Thanos likes to make you come at least twice in your panties that way he has something to jerk himself off with when he knows you won’t be around for a while. He’ll inhale the scent of you with a tight fist around his cock, thinking about how cute you looked with his fingers pressing down on your puffy clit.

As much of a dominant streak as Nam-gyu has it’s almost laughably easy to flip the roles on him. Almost. You have to catch him when he has his guard down, which is usually right after you have sex or when he’s too high to realize what you’re trying to do. 

He doesn’t let it happen very often, and he won’t admit how much he likes it, but having you ride and praise/degrade him while Thanos watches is a guilty pleasure of his.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

☆ We all know both of them were up to some freaky shit in club pentagon like c’mon… And they can both be assholes but they’re hot and they know it, they 100% know how to please a girl. 

They aren’t the most experienced in serious relationships and romantic stuff, but they’ve had random hook-ups and one night stands before. You’re in good hands, literally and metaphorically.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

☆ If they’re in the mood to use you like a ragdoll, they’ll put you in doggy style with your hands tied behind your back so one of them can fuck you into the mattress while the other uses your throat. 

Otherwise their favorite is missionary. Not only can they watch every expression you pull while you’re blissed out and the way they sink into your warm heat with every thrust, but it’s easier to manhandle you like that, pushing your thighs up to your chest or pulling you into a needy kiss.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

☆ They’re more talkative and energetic when they’re high but I can’t see either of them cracking that many jokes during it in general. There might be a few here and there with both of them chuckling to each other, but they’re mostly serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

☆ I think it’d be absolutely hilarious if Thanos dyed his pubes purple but for the sake of discussion the carpet technically matches the drapes, it’s all natural color down there baby. He trims but still has a nice little happy trail that starts at his navel and leads down to his dick (he’s sensitive there, too. Do with that information what you will.)

Nam-gyu is more well groomed but he doesn’t care to fully shave, it’s less of a hassle that way.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

☆ They fuck you like they hate you but their actions give away how much they truly love you. Nam-gyu will tuck strands of hair behind your ear to keep it out of your face and trace comforting circles against your ankles while he has you bent over. 

A more sober, softer Thanos makes sure you’re okay when they’re being particularly rough. Either way, neither of them like being too far away from you for too long anyways, and you know they mean it when they say ‘I love you’ because they aren’t doing it just to say it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

☆ 90% of the time they don’t see the point because they have you, so what’s the point when they have a girlfriend that’s just as willing? On the rare occasion you’re not an option and they can’t get to each other they’ll scroll through the pictures and videos they’ve got of you and make it work.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

☆ This goes back to the hand thing but Thanos likes choking. He never puts too much pressure on you, his grip loose enough that you can usually push him off if you want or need to, but the power trip makes him impossibly harder. 

The veins in his hands bulge where they’re wrapped around your neck, and the slight sting of pain from your nails leaving moon-shaped indents on his forearms? He’s a goner.

Nam-gyu has a huge thing for somnophilia. It probably happens one night when he can’t sleep; he’s too lazy to get himself off but turned on enough that he can’t get back to sleep. 

Thanos is a deep sleeper, and he’s about to try to wake you up when he sees how peaceful you look: the soft rise and fall of your chest, lashes fluttering and the strap of your shirt falling off one of your shoulders. 

You groggily wake up to him pressed up behind your back, your panties pulled to the side as he uses your slick to slide his cock between your thighs.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

☆ Literally anywhere inside of your shared apartment but they’ll never do it in any public setting hands down. Both of them are possessive and jealous, they wouldn’t even risk someone else being able to see you at your most vulnerable. Screw the neighbors that have to listen to you scream every night.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

☆ Just you, really. You dressing up pretty in lingerie does wonders too, but they aren’t picky when it comes to you and they definitely don’t need anything special. Pray that YOU can keep up with THEIR libido, actually.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

☆ Seriously hurting you is a no-no. They’re up to trying anything once if you or either of them wanna try something new to spice it up in the bedroom, but there’s a certain line they won’t cross. 

If they choke or slap you in any way it’s because you asked for it, and they’ll make up some sort of safe word or action like tapping them three times if you need them to stop/slow down.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

☆ Service doms? Nah, they eat you out for their pleasure. They don’t care if you’re shaking and pushing them away from you because you’ve lost count of how much you’ve come, these two get drunk on the taste of your pussy. 

They both have long fingers that curl just right to hit your sweet spot dead on, and Thanos’ are thicker, too. That paired with their rings and they’ll have you crying for them. Don’t get them wrong, they won’t argue if you get on your knees and pull on the waistband of their pants instead.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

☆ They do both! They can fuck you so hard and fast you’re seeing stars afterwards or they can take their time with you, pouring all their desperation and want into making love to you. They’ll never call it that, though, but you know they’re secretly saps.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

☆ They’re always down. There will genuinely not be a time you ask them, even if you have to be somewhere within the next 5 minutes, that they say no. They might not happen often but if a quick session can sate all of you for long enough then running a little late is more than worth it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

☆ Back to them being disgustingly possessive they aren’t big risk takers in the sense of doing it anywhere semi-public or straight up public, but they’ll always experiment. In their mind, if they already know your body like the back of their own hands, why not play around with things that’ll enhance the experience? 

They start out simple with handcuffs, and if you’re up for it they might introduce toys too. They don’t mind stuff like anal either.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

☆ They could go all night if they wanted to, but Thanos doesn’t last very long with the amount of stimulation unless he’s purposefully trying to edge you or himself. Nam-gyu has a bit more stamina being younger than him, so if Thanos gets tired he’ll keep himself busy pleasuring you while Nam-gyu uses your cunt.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

☆ Not many, they have handcuffs and rope that they’ll use to restrain you sometimes. They have a paddle that they’ll break out to use on you if they’re feeling mean, but not crazy often.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

☆ Nam-gyu is the fucking KING of teasing you oh my god. He’ll finger you and ignore your clit for hours, stopping when you clench around him because he knows you’re close. 

He’ll hold your hips down so you can’t grind against him while you’re sitting on his lap and making out, signaling Thanos to run his hands up and down your sides and pressing feather-light kisses to the nape of your neck but nothing more.

Thanos likes to tease you from time to time, but usually it’s more torture for him to hold back from sliding into you than it is for you to feel him slipping the tip just past your tight walls before pulling back out.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

☆ In general neither of them are exactly loud, but they’re not quiet either. They’ll grunt and pant in your ear, deep, guttural moans that send shivers up your spine.

If you’re topping Nam-gyu (or Thanos) he’s more loud, but he’ll try to bite down on his tongue or bottom lip to contain his whines and whimpers. You’ll have to force a thumb between his teeth if you wanna hear him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

☆ They’ll occasionally smoke weed or drink before they fuck you because it’s a different kind of high from their usual drugs, and they won’t force you to do it but if you do wanna try they like to shotgun the smoke directly into your mouth and then kiss you. 

It usually starts with Nam-gyu teasing you about your apprehension, then being surprised when you climb onto his lap and ask for a hit. He’ll give Thanos that look, then pull you in by your chin and tell you to open. 

The simple but direct command has you clenching your thighs together, which doesn’t go unnoticed by either man.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

☆ Thanos is about average but he’s thick and veiny (and he’d be uncircumcised hear me out). His dick also curves slightly to the right. That’s ALL I’m saying about him otherwise I won’t shut up. Second more in-depth post later maybe.

Nam-gyu’s isn’t as thick but he’s longer than Thanos, reaching into the deepest parts of you and stretching you out with ease.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

☆ Let’s just say high. They’re both already always horny separately, but together you’ll be lucky to get any sleep.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

☆ Light sleeper Nam-gyu 🤝 Deep sleeper Thanos. Very much self explanatory but Thanos will be out like a light within minutes, meanwhile Nam-gyu likes to wait until you’re both asleep to really get comfortable anyway <3

[rainy-weather-supremacy]

My thoughts/ideas on a TMA musical

(If anyone wants to help me with this it would be apprechiated 😭😭)

(Under the cut because it's kinda long)

Act I: Introduction, Prentiss & Shenanigans A

Act II: Shenanigans B; Unknowing & Shenanigans C

Act III: Door and Eyepocalypse

TMA important plot points

Act I

Jon hates Martin

Bicon Tim!! 💖💜💙

Prentiss

Michael (Sasha & Helen)

Not!Sasha

Rip Gertrude

Paranoia

Homophobic vase

Table

Leitner

Wanted :(

Georgie & Admiral

Jude

Mike & Daisy

Elias is evil???? 😱😱😱

Act II

Kidnapping

Helen

Jon & Tim trauma 😃👍🏽

Unknowing

Rip Daisy

Zzzzz

Melanie 🔪

Non-Human

Bone 🦴

Oh hey Daisy! :D

🔪👁 Melanie uhoh

Lukas & lonely

Jmart (Cows)

Akt III

Eyepocalypse

Kicking the asses of various Avatars

Martin 😶‍🌫️😭

Rip Daisy 2 electrical boogaloo

Salesa

Tower

Annabelle (But musical plot)

Rip boys 😭🥲😔🫡

Stuff

Peter only shows up at the end when he has to, other than that he is either not there or poorly hidden. He doesnt want people to see him.

Annabelles plan is for a musical instead

Jon feeds on the applause after a number

Not!Sasha always loudly declares to the audience that she is Sasha and that the other actor is…. Taking a break. :)

Jon and Tim sing about their childhood trauma (Daisy: I killed a man when I was eleven. Jon and Tim: 😟 [End song]) 

Unknowing is Nikolas villain song

Worm song

Statements are short songs Jon/Statement givers burst out into

Elias interruping Jon‘s song abt how he is finally happy (😭) and forcing him to sing a duet with him in mag 160

Annabelles evil song sounds like she's a grade 2 teacher and explaining why pandas are bears or whatever. Yeah that but she keeps starting out easy and then gets too complicated quickly so she has to start again

Distortion pops out of random doors that led to entirely different places just before and after

Helen slams the door into Michaels face when she enters and he dies(™️)

The 'crawls and chokes and blinds and falls' part is a rap

Helen falls through the trap door floor when she dies (maybe?)

Toothrotting Jmart fluff. I can do what I wnat tbis is my musical

Sad ending

One or more person sees the audience (Elias; Anabelle; Jon (as the pupil); Not!Sasha; Helen; More?)

While Jon is in a coma, calm music plays. There is screaming in the background and Melanie running around with knifes, first being chased by something and then chasing something. Both she and the thing leave through Helens door, who waves to the audience and then closes the door in a cool way

Mag 100 is a short comedic intermission you only understand 1/5 of

Every time Jon enters the stage after leaving, he is in slightly worse condition

I open the door immediately before the 2. pause bc big applause (When he says it the doors open for the break?)

Paranoid Jon song: I see you

End of S4 song: I see you (Reprise) [I know who you are / I'll find you out] vs [I know who you are / I'll find you and I'll get you out]

All the fears have a specific instrument assigned to them

Before the first pause, Elias is alone on stage for a moment, turns to the audience and bows. With the applause, a eye appears on/over him by projector

Spotlight as a symbolisation of the eye, something that might be seen as a blessing but becomes a curse if unwanted. It turns on during statements etc and in the tunnels, it's a flashlight instead because they are illuminating themselfes. You walk and the light that shows where you are follows. Running from the spotlight.

Beginning, to audience: You are an eye. Watching over the people if the world for ages yet, there are a few people that stand out to you. Here's one that will become important to you soon. (Cue curtain open to reveal Jon at his desk going 'one, two, one, two, test, test'.)

Ending, to audience: You are an eye. You have watched this world for a long time, but now, it's time to go… somewhere else. (Before bows)

S4 Lonely song called 'no one but you' where Perter is like 'you have no one but you' and Martin agrees and sings along but when Peter is gone he thinks of Jon and sings it in a way that 'you' is Jon like "I have no one but you".

The people who get smited (smitten?) see the audience and are horrified

When people get smitten, a bright spotlight focuses on them and a soft green one on Jon

Akt I

Beginning, first statement (Maybe it's only kind of a rhyme, not a full-on song yet)

More statements & Introduction to the Archival assistants (Martin is introduced first so that he's absent for the rest of the song) (I'm so smart) (Here we can probably also establish that Jon hates him and that Tim is bi?) (Also Melanie shows up for the first time)

-> What about combining those first two points and making like. An archiving song 🤔

Martin storms in with the worms in a jar (That in one scene, cut to a person going "youre saying that… [plot]?")

Sasha meets Michael and Jon first Helen, then Michael as well (A kind of spiral song)

Attack von Prentiss (Worm song)

Sasha gets killed & replaced (Maybe do something meta with the actors here, or just someone that looks completely different shows up wearing a 'the real sasha james' shirt?)

Martin finds Gertrude's corpse, notices the alarm is over and Jane is defeated. Does kind of a weak 'oh… I- I guess it's over' and stumbles away

They meet back up in bandages, not!Sasha is like "YES IT'S ME! SASHA!!!"

Jon's talking to the tape recorder like 'Idk I feel like somethings's wrong' and stalks on the archival assistants who are just like. Drinking tea. Talking. Doing work (or not). Meanwhile Sasha is in the background doing the most obvious and sus shit which he always just barely misses

Jon concludes that someone wants to kill him and sings abt it (I see you)

The song has an interruption with the others coming in for the intervention (And he only gets more paranoid after)

1 or 2 more statements are being read out during the song (or just the title/s said?)

He realizes that it's not Sasha by listening to a tape. In it, on the other side of the stage, Sasha and Tim are talking.  Not!Sasha tries to use her body to stop the audience from seeing this, but fails bc thats not really possible (walks around back and forth waving her arms so she doesn't acually block it for someone the whole time y'know?)

He says a final time "I see you" and the song ends

Jon destroy the table, Not!Sasha and Michael show up

Leitner uses the book to conjure up magical spirits (stage crew) and move the set so u cant see Not!Sasha anymore, which makes her mad but oh well

He starts to explain but mid-song Jon 'goes outside' and Elias comes in, finishes the song in an EVIL (😨) way and turns to the audience, puts a finger to his lips and leaves

Jon comes back and is like 'o shit' and runs away off-stage

Daisy and Basira come by to interrogate everyone (Show here Jon is wanted by police)

He stays at Georgies, who is cool, and pets the admiral

Jon sings a statement abt how Jude is dangerous and decides to pay her a visit. What could go wrong?? He leaves.

Melanie gets hired (Mention that she got shot by a ghost)

Jon's back from Jude and he has a burnt hand but is also on his way to Mike Crew- Surely he cant fuck this one up!

He visits Mike, fucks it up

Daisy kills Mike (rip) and wants to kill Jon but Basira is like wtf and stops her murder song before she can (Something like Get away with this?)

They all confront Elias an he is actually…. E V I L ?!???!!?? 😱😨🤯

Akt II

(First MAG 100?)

For the kidnapping, probably start with him kidnapped and then Michael shows up and is like "Wow Archivist u fucked up I cant believe EVIL SKIN STEALING DOLLS KIDNAPPED YOU AND WANT TO [plot]"

Helen shows up and slams Michaels door in his face and is like 'cmon lets go'

We need to stop the unknowing guys

Tim confronts Jon (Do not ask me what this means all I know is that here we establish they have beef)

Jon & Tim trauma song

They somehow find dynamite. Maybe one more short statement here as well?

They go to the wax museum and there is talking

Nikola villain song (aka unknowing) that ends with Tim being smug and also exploding. During the song there is a brief segment to what each of the characters is going through

The Martin also has to be somewhere here 🔥📃

Jon is in a coma and the Melanie/Weird stuff chase scene

Oliver comes by and he wakes up

They still dont like him

Oh so Martin is working for Mr. Evil man and also Tim and Daisy are dead?!

Statements

(Idk what happens here? Stuff ig???)

Melanie operation (Gone wrong‼️)

Jon realizes he's not really human anymore, which he kind of knew but still he comes to the conclusion that it sucks and therefore so does he (bestie please)

The coffin is delivered

He goes straight into Helens hallways and comes back out with a rib. While he's gone, Martin passes by briefly and we see how lonely he is.

Jon goes into the coffin and finds Daisy which is a song for sure

They come back out and Basira and Daisy are like 🫂

The Dark??

Jon finds out how to leave

Lets gouge our eyes out scene

Melanie gets her eyes' ass and goes away to kiss Georgie (Shes just like "guess ill go get rid of my eyes & kiss my girlfriend byyyeee")

Statement that is interrupted/just after it the hunters come and Jon is like "oh no the hunters from my trip to america" basira/daisy: "when were you in amerika???" Jon: "That time I came home and you said I smelled like guns. Anyways panik."

Daisy goes wolf mode very dramatically after Jon runs off stage to find martin

Elias and Peter (who we finally really ses) reveal the evil plan to Martin who is like "how about no" and then tries to stab Peter (or something like that idk) but there is fog and he is gone

Jon storms in like "MAHTIN!"

The lonely scene with the song

They are in a nice house and it's cool and fluffy

Martin leaves for milk and cows

Jon sings abt how he's finally happy and Elias gets his smug bastard ass in there and forces him to dance along and sing a duet and to fucking rap oh my god this is a crime (After all this time)

It ends with "I- OPEN- THE- DOOR!" as all the door out of the room open

Akt III

Jon goes into a song about the safehouse but Tim and Sasha sing a duet in the background 

They decide to leave

Helen shows up like the bothersome creature (/aff) she is

They meet the Not!Them

Smiting song, which is mostly action-packed but there's four parts and the third is MAG 165 (Not!Them - Jude - Lonely house - Jared)

Hunt song starting with Trevor and ending with Daisys death

Uptown house (Either off-stage or Salesa starts trying to sing a song but they faint and he complains when the lights go out)

Martin sings a duet with himself 

Jon kills real estate agent, which starts off as a statement but that one woman derails it

Short song abt the Eye & London

Song abt and/or by WTG about their cult where they 1) love each other and 2) deny being prophets whil the cultists sing a chorus about how great the prophets are

Jmart visit Jonah & Jon sings about how he could make things better in his place and gets more & more enthusiastic until Martin interrupts him and they fight (through song?), ending with Martin storming away

Jon sings abt how he knows what's best / Annabelle sings to Martin that she can show him what's best

Jon notices that Martin is gone and goes after him in a boat. (While he's rowing, Fight Song starts going "like a small boat… on the ocean….." and then Basira shows up and climbs in his boat and stops the song (shoots the speaker?) /hj)

Annabelle villain song in which she also explains the rift ("You've grabbed something/someone's attention" while looking directly at the audience. Jon, Martin & Basira follow her gaze but don't see anything) + for sure do the "You have no idea who's listening/watching, do you?"

They talk about what to do & vote that they'll follow Annabelles plan, much to Jons distress. (Make what they want to do very clear here)

Jon goes up, song where he gets his revenge (& ascends)

When he becomes the pupil and the song stops, Jon really looks around and sees the audience & goes kind of "What… Who- Who…? O-Oh. Oh." and stares at them before getting distracted by Martin arriving, who can't see them

Martin arrives and they talk and find what they have to do

Short but bitter-sweet last song together

Ending

Bows

[i-am-the-stargirl]

colin gray — nsfw alphabet

pairing: colin gray x afab!reader

warnings: smutty stuff (obvi), mostly sub!colin, ~1400 words, gif by me

a is for aftercare

colin doesn’t do anything too extravagant— obviously he cares about you enough to do things like make sure you get to the shower/bath to clean up, get you a glass of water, etc.. but he won’t do anything like wash you himself. after you’re both clean and calm, he’ll cuddle with you until you both fall asleep; or, if you can’t stay, drives you home himself and kisses your cheek before leaving.

b is for body part

he is obsessed with your legs, more specifically your thighs. he loves to kiss them, squeeze them… especially when he’s about to eat you out, they’re like something to hold onto so he stays grounded. he’ll press little kisses on the inside of them before he dives between them for the main event. even in non-sexual situations, he likes to lay his head on your thighs and have you play with his hair while you’re watching a movie or something.

c is for cum

colin is terrified of getting you pregnant— he makes sure to stock up on condoms when you get to that point of your relationship. the times he doesn’t wear a condom to fuck you, he makes sure to pull out. (it’s just an added bonus that he likes the way you look with your stomach or chest covered in his cum.)

d is for dirty secret

the tamer of his fantasies definitely include you riding his face. he likes the idea of you having the power and that position DEFINITELY goes with that. the less tame include being tied up by you— maybe with his own scarf or studded belts. they also include you calling him puppy.. like a lot.

e is for experience

colin is a virgin, but that doesn’t stop him from being a bit perverted in the head. i mean, he’s emo— lots of the emo/goth songs and movies detail this kind of stuff. he definitely makes sure to do his research before his first time, because he wants it to be an actually good experience. still, he’s a bit messy.

f is for favorite position

if he had to choose, he would go with cowgirl. you get to top and he gets to look up at you (eye contact really gets him going.) really any position where he can see your face.

g is for goofy

colin tries to crack jokes during, out of pure nervousness. most times he gets interrupted by a moan or something of the like.

h is for hair

he’s not terribly hairy, especially down there. he doesn’t shave often, but he just doesn’t grow hair very quickly— basically, he’s got body hair like any other person, just not that much of it. (also: the carpet doesn’t match the drapes. he’s a natural brunette, but he dyes his hair black for the emo look.)

i is for intimacy

colin is very intimate before, during, and after. he’ll mumble little ‘i love you’s between thrusts, kiss your cheeks and shoulders, and keep eye contact throughout. he’ll always make sure to tell you how much he cares about you afterwards. he’s eloquent with it too— the creative writing classes and the poems he makes in his free time really pay off.

j is for jack-off

like any other guy his age, he masturbates pretty frequently. even after getting in a relationship with you, he jerks off (but you’re all he thinks about.) he definitely starts doing it less once you two start fucking, because the real thing is always better than his imagination.

k is for kinks

just to list a few: overstimulation, being restrained, praise, edging.. you know the type. the quiet ones are always more kinky, you know.

l is for location

he’s not too adventurous in terms of locations. he prefers it to be in your bedroom or his bedroom, when other people aren’t in the house. (mostly because he’s not great at staying quiet..)

m is for motivation

he gets turned on fairly easily. it could be something as little as you wearing a low-cut top, or you putting your hands in his hair. once he got a full boner just by you pulling him by his scarf… he also gets flustered by flirting, especially when it’s in public.

n is for no

colin isn’t super into domming you in the first place (when he does dom, he’s super soft about it) but he completely refuses to do anything like slap or choke you.

o is for oral

he is very into oral. he likes eating you out, just because he likes making you feel good— plus, the lip ring is a cool sensory thing during. he loves when you suck him, because logistically, he should be the one with the power in that position, right? but you always find a way to take it from him and he loves it.

p is for pace

he’s not slow, but he’s not aggressively fast either. it’s a nice mid pace that he can slow down or speed up easily. he’s pretty good at getting deep too— when he’s close, he’ll get faster, but shallower. if he’s wearing a condom, he’ll fully bottom out in you when he cums.

q is for quickie

colin doesn’t find quickies super appealing. he’d rather take your time with you, give you two the time to do anything and everything you want to try. the only time he would do anything like a quickie is having you give him oral. because that can be quick and good.

r is for risk

colin doesn’t really like taking risks in practice, but in theory, it turns him way on. he would love to do something like fuck you while people are in the house, have you try and keep him quiet..

s is for stamina

let’s be real, most people can’t go five or more rounds. colin tops out at three, but that’s even pushing it. it’s usually one or two for him— his inexperience plus the fact that he’s not super athletic make him someone who doesn’t have a load of stamina for sex.

t is for toys

though he doesn’t own any toys himself, he’s always been curious about what using a fleshlight would be like. he’d let you press a vibrator to his tip— just enough sensation to keep him whimpering and overstimulated, but not enough to make him cum.

u is for unfair

he doesn’t tease you much, except for the times he’s trying to rile you up so you push him onto the bed and have your way with him. he will let you tease him to no end— it actually turns him on.

v is for volume

in simple terms, colin is not quiet. he’ll usually repeat things like ‘i love you’ or ‘please’ in between moans and other comments. he is an intense whimperer. when he’s getting close, the brain fog is too much for him to form understandable words; he tends to just babble and whine.

w is for wildcard

he’s actually pretty into pain— it’s just not something that comes up that much. what he especially likes is you pulling on his hair or biting him. he’s just a tad bit too embarrassed to tell you how much it does for him.

x is for x-ray

colin isn’t packing anything gigantic. soft he’s around four inches, hard he’s about six. he’s average in terms of girth— he’s got a vein running up the side that splits off into two towards his pinkish-red tip.

y is for yearning

his sex drive is high, but that’s just because he gets horny often and easily. if he’s alone, he’ll just rub one out, but if he’s with you he’ll act on it. he thinks about fucking you a lot, but since you’re not around him all the time, it proves to be a problem.

z is for zzz

colin falls asleep pretty easily after sex. it’s always the best sleep he gets— normally he’s a night owl, either because of his mind running wild and keeping him awake or because he’s up late writing. but feeling your warm body pressed up to his and basking in the afterglow of connection is like a lullaby that rocks him to sleep and keeps his dreams sweet.

[vacayisland]

I have the largest hyper fixation on Floyd right now. Funny little troll being way too cute for it to be legal.

do you think you could write a story where a male / Non-binary reader that's like, a large person thing, (You can make them part animal if possible, I like the idea of Floyd hiding in the readers fur for comfort.) is reunited with Floyd after he was stick in the diamond perfume bottle for 2 months. And they just give Floyd a bunch of comfort cuddles and other stuff.

Take all the time you need to rest and drink water, if you can't do my request, that's perfectly fine. I hope you have an amazing day / night!

-A non-binary bee 🐝

@!; Floyd with a part-animal Reader! Floyd / Half-animal! Half-Troll! Reader

"Summary"! Couldn't tell if you meant big like tall or big like cubby... so why not both? :D Anyways, there are more headcanon style with little stories in it. Dunno when I'll post this (I have like 5 other stories backed up b/c my mind can't decide what to write); But I hope you like it Bee! Tags! Floyd literally being everything, no pronouns mentioned so feel free to use your own, hurt-comfort, NOT PROOF READ... also wrote in one sitting... in one day. AND TUMBLR KEPT GLITCHING ON ME AND THE PITCTURE BORDER ISN'T WORKING ON DESKTOP-. anyways please enjoy <3

@!; Floyd has known you since his band days, which was a shock to his brothers when they finally met you. Not only are you taller than an average troll (a foot or so) yet you're also different; and mostly in a good way, but take what you will about the fact that Branch noticed your differences first. When Floyd first met you, it was 2 months into his boyband career with Brozone. He went out on a walk to clear his head before a big show, anxious feels were never good to go on stage with and his brothers didn't help much. Mostly John Dory, who kept speaking about his "perfect" plan to the show. Just thinking about messing up anything made Floyd more nervous than preforming, he really didn't want to let his brothers down; as he's seen them preform before he was able to join on the scene. So while JD ranted, Spruce worked out, and Clay was fitting into his costume, Floyd went out on a needed walk. That's when he found you;

You were stood up top a mountain cliff near the Pop troll village, looking down with your majestic eyes and ears relaxed down by your side. Floyd stood by the village though hid in the shade of the plants nearby to watch. He didn't want to scare you off, especially since he's never seen anything quite like you. You seemed memorized by the lights of the Pop troll village, if not maybe a little intoxicated by them; like a moth to the flame. Floyd was memorized by your shiny coat, which he could barely see against the night sky and the bright colors of the village. You didn't seem to notice him at all as you laid down at that cliff, crossing your paws and laying your muzzle down on them. Floyd wasn't sure why but watching you watching the lights of the village calmed his nerves. Even though it was still a little nerve racking thinking that an animal so big knows were the village was; an animal who could possibly eat Trolls. Yet, that thought was quickly wavering out of his mind the more passive you seemed. @!; Floyd almost missed the show that night, Spruce had to go find him before JD blew a fuse. He was questioned like hell the few seconds before the show and then afterwards, yet he couldn't exactly tell his brothers that he saw an animal watching the village and that's what he was doing. They would be both over worried and a little relentless in scolding him for getting so close to something that could eat trolls. His absence of an answer, and his general dodging of the brothers questions (when that was so not like Floyd) led them all to assume that Floyd met a Troll that had caught his eye. Floyd tried to protest against this, yet was a little flustered at the fact that all his brothers seemed to jump on that conclusion train so quickly. So, that only solidified his brother's theories more and thus began the hunt. All his brothers kept an extra eye on Floyd, trying to see who the lucky Troll had been who caught there ever so sensitive brother's eyes. Despite all their "sneaky" tracking and slight stalking, they came up with nothing. Floyd was determined to let them not know what, or maybe who, he actually saw that night. So he didn't see you again until his brothers gave up on their little hunt and let Floyd to his own devices. Especially after he almost messed up a show due to nerves from not being able to go out on a walk without his brother's bombardment; JD wasn't happy. 3 months after first seeing you, Floyd was able to catch a glimpse of you again. Before a show, he looked out the window (not needing to go out on a walk that night) and saw your figure again in the distance on the same hill. You were relaxed again, laying down and looking intently towards the Village. In some weird sense, Floyd had a funny thought that you were here to listen to the concert; seeing as he didn't see you on any other night than concert nights. Yet, he shook that thought out of his head really quick, not thinking that you could like Brozone music. Not that it was because you weren't a Troll, but because he thought it was too loud for your ears; he's read somewhere that animal ears tended to be more sensitive than Troll ears. But then why would you be so close to the Village? The thought stuck in Floyd's mind all throughout the performance and when he checked if you were still at the cliff after the show, you were gone. He couldn't tell if it was because of the noise or because the show had ended; but he felt a little disheartened.

@!; Floyd would play this one-sided game of eye-spy for months before he spotted a night when you weren't you. He had began to make it a habit to leave you a little plate of food (well little for you) before every Brozone performance. His personal thank you for watching the show despite your (maybe) sensitives ears. He was going to go place the plate of food at the top of the cliff when he stopped midway through his hike to see a Troll standing at the top of the cliff. At least, it looked like a Troll? Yet they seemed taller, even more so when Floyd slowly approached closer. Your hair also was more abundant than other Trolls, even for adults. He was cautious as he approached you, keeping the plate of food close to him as he tried to scope out who you were before he interacted. Yet before he could figure out who you were, you snapped your head around to stare into the dead of night . . . directly at him. Floyd froze, not sure if you could see him or not and not wanting to find out. Though it was light you weren't even a Troll for a second, taking in a sniff before your hair stood up for a moment; prickling like a cat's hair standing up when frightened. Slowly you approached him with heavy footsteps, your height slowly growing in the moonlight as your shadow was drawn out. For a moment Floyd thought he was as good as dead. He didn't know what to do! Frazzled, he quickly shoved out the plate of food he had indented for his friend and not this stranger about to commit (possible) cannibalism. And that's when he heard your footsteps come to a stop and a heavy huff from someone's nose hit the top of his head, causing him to cautiously open one eye. And he felt like fainting as soon as he did that. Though he couldn't help opening both eyes in complete terror seeing a Troll tower over him in an unnatural height. Your eyes pierced down at him, their glow in the moonlight somehow familiar yet Floyd could not piece it together at this moment of panic. "Please don't eat me!" Floyd blurted out, the only thing between him and you being a plate of food. Yet you didn't answer, at least not right away. Your silence was as terrifying as your glare and staggering height. "I promise you I don't taste good!-" The words fell out before Floyd had even realized he had said them, watching with terror as you leant down. He wasn't sure what you were doing, but he hoped it wasn't serving your next meal's horror before deciding whether or not you should eat him. Yet there was something in your eyes that softened, a small smile that seemed to creep onto your lips. And for once after meeting you in this form, Floyd felt like he wasn't going to get mauled. Which was a good thing, a really good thing... For him at least. "So you're the one who's been leaving me food!" Your voice was not at all how he imagined it, as it seemed to carry some sort of friendliness he's not even heard from some Trolls. It was also a bit rougher, your English oddly unperfected for a Troll for the age Floyd guessed you were. "I-.. uh, what?" Though what did you mean Floyd was leaving you food? Maybe you were confusing him for someone else, or maybe you were eating the food he intended for his friend. Either way he tried to clear the confusion, "I'm sorry no, I don't think so. I've been leaving food here for.." "Yes, for me." You interrupted Floyd before he could finish, giving him a rather big grin. Yet, no matter how friendly you seemed, your words caused him to become that more confuddled. Even more so when you held out your hands flat, as though you were expected Floyd to just hand you the plate ... really incorrectly. He thought for a brief moment that you may be related to the animal that perches itself at the cliffside, though he didn't think too long on that possibility; as would it even be possible?

Either way, to save some trouble for now, Floyd carefully handed you the plate of food; watching as you held it from the bottom flat in your hands and grinned brighter before rushing off to the side of the cliff. He wasn't sure if he should follow you or not. "Come, friend! We eat to show!" You gestured for Floyd to follow as you sat at the iconic cliff he's seen the animal so many times. And despite his hesitation, and his logicality telling him not to, he deiced to join the Troll. I mean, what could be the harm? Floyd almost missed his performance that day. JD wasn't happy yet, oddly enough, something inside Floyd made him rather indifferent. Not uncaring, because he always cared about his brothers feelings and letting down JD was last on his list; yet, he didn't care as much as he should have. And that caught him by suprise. He wondered if it had to do something with you...

@!; The day the band broke up, Floyd went to seek you first. You two had grown close after the countless nights you spent upon the cliff, chatting and eating. Floyd just couldn't stand being able to leave without giving you a proper goodbye, you have been his closest friend outside his family after all. He found you lower on the cliff this day, still stalking in your animal form. Your ears were completely pinned back, and he was sure you had saw what had happened during that performance; it was the biggest disaster storm ever. "Hey! H-" Floyd didn't even have to call you twice before you perked up, snapping your attention over to him. He grew sheepish seeing your sudden smile, and he could only guess you had been utterly worried about him since the performance. Though he didn't expect you to be so worried you would bound towards him on all fours, causing him to yelp and quickly brace for impact. Yet, you never hit, and Floyd heard as you skidded yourself to a stop right in front of him and plopped down on your bottom. Letting out an excited yelp before licking him once, then twice. Causing him to laugh and try to push your snout away, a silent signal for you to turn back into a Troll. Which you didn't seem to get the hint for instantly, as you licked him thrice before standing up and twirling in a circle. Laughing, Floyd covered his eyes and let you turn back, opening them only when he heard your voice again; "Floyd! What in the hell happened out there?! One minute you guys were doing fine and it seemed like-" Your voice was as lovely as ever, and Floyd instantly felt a pang in his heart knowing he wouldn't be able to hear it as often anymore. His face became rather gloomy at that sudden realization he hadn't thought of before now. Maybe visiting you wasn't- no, he can't think like that! You deserved the truth as much as Branch did. He can't simply walk off and keep you sitting here, watching and wondering where he had gone for years on end. That wasn't right. "(y/n)!" Floyd jolted at the suddenness of his voice, and how firm it sounded. He didn't mean for his words to come out so harsh, though your ranting didn't do much to help his heart... or the decision he knew he had to make. Oh and your eyes, the way they shone in the moonlight. Floyd could see how startled he had made you, as he's never used such a voice with you; yet it had done the job and hushed you up, even for now. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to scare you. I just-" Floyd's lip twitched as he thought for the easiest way to blow this to you. The easiest way to let you down after all the nights you had spent together. The easiest way for him to accept everything that was happening and everything he had to do and everything that needed to be done.. but oh poor Branch and poor you, neither of you deserved this- "Floyd.. it's okay." Floyd was brought back to his thoughts, snapped back with the feeling of your hands grabbing his and your voice echoing in his ears. He opened his seized eyes and glanced up at yours; you were leaning down again, and Floyd laughed through the tears he didn't realize were spilling down. "You're doing it again.." Floyd mumbled, his voice wobbly. Your hands raced to his cheeks, cupping them and undoubtably feeling the hot, wet tears streaming down as you began to clear them. Floyd dropped his hands to his sides, they felt all to heavy right now. "No you're doing it again." Your voice was uncharacteristically steady, none if it's usual fluctuating like a dog excited to see it's owner. "You're overthinking and... and thinking of everyone else before you think about yourself! Floyd, whatever you're going to say to me, whatever you're keeping in that mind of yourself, you're going to tell me now, okay? And you're going to tell me and you're not going to worry about how I feel and you're going to be firm on your decision... because you're strong and we're friends and I won't be mad with you no matter what you tell me."

@!; That night, Floyd knew, for sure, that he was in love with you. And that made telling you all that harder as his heart yelled at his brain to stay, but his brain knew that they couldn't go back on their choice. He had to leave, even if for a week or month or year. He knew he needed space from the Village and everyone inside.. but not you and Branch. Defiantly not you. And oh the broken look in your eyes got him, but the way you tried to smile through it and agree that the space is what he needed made him fall even more in love. You were so strong, you kept to your word... Maybe Floyd could stay one more night. And he did, he cuddled up with you for his last night in the Village; you both watched the stars, all cozied up in your hair. And god, has Floyd never felt a Troll's' hair so soft. He almost couldn't pull himself out from it in the morning when you were still clinging onto him, trapping him with both your body and your hair. He felt tempted to doze back to sleep, yet knew he had to leave now (while he still had the will power) then wait before you woke up. He knew if he saw your broken look again, that look in your eyes that you could never hide, he couldn't bring himself to leave. So when you woke up in the morning, you found yourself alone; completely alone in a middle of your blanket made of your hair. Floyd had left before you had woke up and you would find yourself sulking in that position for longer than you would have thought.

@!; You didn't see Floyd again, yet you heard from him up till a few years into his exploration of the unknown; journeying to find himself in the chaotic world beyond the village. You didn't leave from the outskirts of the Pop village, as that's were you had figured out you could thrive the most without interacting with other Trolls or animals. So when Floyd's letters began to run dry, you knew it wasn't because he didn't know where to send it. No that's never been a problem before, especially with the bugs that were used to deliver the messages so they never went through Troll post. You had first thought that he had forgotten to write a letter that day and he would send you one tomorrow. He didn't. You then figured he was just somewhere where he couldn't right or get a bug to deliver the letter. But after a month of sitting and waiting anxiously, you figured that couldn't be the reason either. Floyd never stayed in a place for this long, and the letter he had sent you last made it sound like he was going to a place where he could continue to send letters. Another option came to mind, what if Floyd had just stopped sending letter because he just grew tired of you? He found someone else who captured his attention better than you did! Who could write in pretty cursive and spell words and speak correctly. Who could bake for him pies and cupcakes, who could sing and dance with him in the proper way that a Troll could. That was the first day you ever felt truly alone ever since Floyd left. Sure, you missed him dearly; Missed his smile and his caring ways and his company but never did you ever feel truly lonely. The type of lonely that made you upset and aggravated. The type of lonely that stung more than a throne in your paw, or a bee sting. The type of lonely that made you think back on all the memories you had with Floyd and made you think two different thoughts all at once: What was the point? Can I get those times back? It was torture. Two months of agonizing torture that ate you up inside with no remorse.

@!; Two months inside that horrible diamond prison, Floyd was finally free. Sure he had some white in his hair now, and felt fatigue come onto him easier when singing, but he was free; Free and with his brothers heading back to the Pop Troll village where Brozone (kind of reestablished) was going to chill for a minute before maybe going back their separate ways. "Oh my god, did we ever tell you that Floyd use to have a crush in the village when he was younger?!" JD turned around from the console of his caterpillar-like trailer, a snicker plastered right across his face. His comment instantly flipped the attention of everyone else, who had been lounging around the 'living space' of the trailer and chatting about nothing exciting. At least, nothing exciting to John Dory. "Oh! I almost forgot about that!" Bruce started as Branch looked between his brothers, noticing as Floyd let out a small groan and covered his face. "Oh not this gain..." Floyd mumbled, though not completely under his breath. "What?! JD you have to be joking right now!" Poppy jumped to a start, Viva seemed to be right beside her; jumping to her sister's side, placing her hands on Poppy's shoulders with such interest you would think JD had just brought up party plans. "Oh I'm so not joking." JD couldn't help but laugh, crossing his arms. "Floyd used to sneak off before the start of every show and see his little crush! It was so cute." And there was the teasing tone that Floyd could never forget. He hadn't hoped they didn't bring up this topic, but now he wished he had begged on his knees to anything above that his brothers had forgotten. "Oooh~ Floyd! Who was the lucky troll?" Viva questioned, mirroring her sister's excitement yet with a slight more mature feeling. "Well-" Floyd couldn't even begin before JD took over again. "We never got the chance to see them!" "Oh yeah, and we tried hard too. Stalked Floyd anytime he went out to see if we could find any sort of glimpse on who this Troll was. But we never found them." Clay informed, leaning back against the couch as an amused glint crossed his eyes; he glanced over to Floyd, who was still hiding his head. "Can we PLEASE change the topic?!" Floyd begged, but he guessed that his humiliation was much too entertaining to his brothers (mostly JD). "Nope! Never got the chance to see them. It was like- the biggest mystery in all of BroZone history." JD made this sound more ominous than it needed to be. More mysterious than a unclosed murder case that was more boggling than answerable. His serious tone didn't help it either. "Oh my god, Viva!-" Poppy turned to her sister, who held a knowing look. "To the clue board?" "To the clue board! Don't worry we'll find this troll." Poppy exploded like a star as Viva and her rushed over to the clue board that Branch had set up. They didn't waste time before they began to excitedly chat over possibly candidates and theories. Floyd felt more embarrassed than the day his brothers had started that whole mess, and he wasn't sure how that was even possible! Branch watched the two sisters for a moment before turning over to his brothers, thoroughly confused, "Wait... why did no one tell me this?!"

@!; Floyd wasn't sure how he would break this news to his brothers, but all he knew is that he needed to get to you first. He knew you just as you knew him, and he knew his disappearance would have a cause for concern... or maybe alarm or distress. Everything that Floyd didn't want you to feel when you thought about him because he should be your safe space and you had been his. "Guys! I'll be right back." Floyd shouted to his brothers when the caterpillar bus had came to a stop in front of the Pop village; And Floyd was sure he literally flew out the door with more force than necessary before he began to run down the village. "Bring them home for dinner!" Floyd could hear JD's sly remark before he was no longer in earshot of the van. Though he was sure he could hear something about "Kids growing up too fast" and some shared lighthearted laughter. Floyd couldn't care at the moment; not when all his brain buzzed about was finding you and making sure you were okay. What if you had gotten hurt during your time of no communication. What if you began to think that Floyd no longer cared for you or that something had happened to your or- Floyd's mind raced faster than he could keep up with and it felt like he was no longer racing against time yet against his own thoughts; not thinking about the fact that he had crossed the village in record time or that his brothers watched him rush straight into the woods by that cliff he had found a friend on and then love. That cliff where he had stargazed with you and shared thoughts he hadn't shared with anyone else. That cliff where you had showed him your way of life and let him closer than any other Troll had been with you. That cliff were everything happened in a secret silence that felt just right. That cliff were time seemed to stop. That cliff where he first found your eyes and saw your face last when he left. That cliff.. That cliff. That cliff!- Floyd was jolted away from the edge of the cliff, something he didn't realize he was just about to run off due to being lost in his emotion. A firm grip on the back of his pants had yanked him away, throwing him down onto the floor as now someone was between him and that cliff. "Are you crazy?! You were about to throw yourself off!-" Floyd didn't expect his baby brother's voice to shout at him and snap him out of his flurry of thoughts. He didn't expect Branch to be the one to stand there between him and the cliff. It was meant to be you. Not that he was meaning to throw himself off a cliff to find you, he would never put that type of trauma onto anyone or even think about such as thing. But you were meant to be here, meant to greet him on this cliff, meant to... where were you? Floyd didn't answer his brother as he scrambled onto his feet, numb from the running. He didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to care. He began to look around frantically, up and down the cliff, left and right. He rushed to some bushed and trees and tried looking more in depth as Branch stood there; never having seen his brother so disorientated and frazzled. "Floyd? Floyd!" Branch tried to get his brother's attention, "Floyd what are you looking for?" You. Where were you? Floyd didn't realize he didn't answer his brother; he had thought he had, but he didn't. He simply jumped off a rock and to the lower side of the cliff before he continued his search. Branch cautiously followed him, slowly lowering himself down from the rock and onto the ground. He watched Floyd look everywhere before Floyd jolted to a stop and stared in front of him. "(Y/N)!" It was a pained cry as Floyd rushed forward, pushing himself off of a tree to give himself a boost. "Floyd!" Branch yelled, following his brother in a panic. "Floyd you can't run into the forest around the village they're dangerous! Flo-" And Branch paused seeing who his brother approached. "Floyd!"

Floyd had no hesitation rushing over to an enormous beast that laid in the middle of a field, soaking in the sun. The beast had clear patches of its fur bitten off, and Branch couldn't tell whether it was self inflicted due to nerves or if it was from a fight. It perked its ears, then its head as it heard Floyd' shouting. It scanned the field and Branch felt himself rushing over to his brother. "FLOYD!" Branch's yell fell short as he saw the beast jump to its paws and rush over to his brother. Branch felt adrenaline rush through his body as he was sure he was about to watch his brother get eaten by a rapid animal. And Branch wasn't in range to catch the beast's muzzle with his hair, and Branch was sure that Floyd wouldn't attack it for whatever reason, and- wait... what? Branch kicked up dirt as he skidded to a stop, watching at the beast popped into an unusually tall Troll who grabbed Floyd in bear hug before spinning the two around. Branch watched with so much bewilderment that he questioned what JD had put in the drink he had given him. He had to be seeing things. That beast didn't just transform into a troll, right? Branch let out an airy bit of laughter as he watched the taller Troll trip on their own legs, causing the two of them to crash down and laugh loudly. Laugh like long lost lovers or crushes who had just found each other again, some sort of star-crossed lovers situation you would only find in books. Branch let out a small huff before carefully walking over to Floyd and you on the floor, laughing like maniacs. "What happened to you?!" Floyd reached up to cup your cheeks, worry rushing to his eyes as he noticed the bits of your hair that were fried and clearly chewed off. "No! No what happened to you?!" Sure, maybe you should have answered Floyd's question before asking one but you were too worried! This man disappears off the face of the planet for 2 months with no explanation then comes back like nothing ever happened?! You wouldn't stand for it, nor would you sit or lay for it either. Your hands rushed up to his, cupping over his hands which were cupping your cheeks. "I asked the question question first!" Quipped Floyd with a cheeky, beaming grin. Oh, how you've missed that grin so much. You could just squish his cheeks and kiss him at this moment. "I'll tell you what happened to me when you explain what happened to you." "Dea-" "How about you both explain what is happening?" Branch cut in, standing nearby with crossed arms and an amused smile. Floyd shot his head up, you simply turned to the side, to see that smile and oh- Floyd for a moment thought Branch was about to use this for some sort of blackmail against their brothers. "Branch!" Floyd sat up with a startle, having forgotten his brother had been here... and that he kind of saved Floyd from running off a cliff earlier. "Who are you?" Floyd heard you ask from under him and he knew he had a lot of explaining to do in that moment. But hey, if all he had to do was introduce you to his family, and hope they would accept you for your differences, then he would do that. He would do that and more to be able to be next to you, in your arms and in your reach. He would do anything to be able to keep you close. And next time he left the village, Floyd was not leaving without you.

@!; BONUS SNIPIT

"Wait, so you're telling me you got captured by some evil green-haired people who put you into a glass bottle made of diamonds and the only way you escapes is because your family made the 'perfect family harmony'?" You asked Floyd with a childlike wonder and a mature skepticism. You both were laying in Floyd's bed, inside his bod, as crickets chirped outside a sweet melody of the night. Floyd knew it sounded unbelievable but, "I'm telling you, this story is 100 percent real." Floyd couldn't help but keep in his laughter at your expressive wide eyes. Taking advantaged of your bewilderment of the situation, Floyd attacked you by snuggling closer; wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, resting his head against your chest. He didn't have to look up at you to know you were cocking your eyebrow up in a questioning way, trying to think the logistics of the story over in your head. Yet you still wrapped your arms around Floyd's back, your hair stretching out to wrap the both of you in its fuzzy and cozy warmth. Floyd let out a deep sigh, you felt it against your chest; he missed these moments, and you did too. Moments that seemed to stand still, yet not in a boring way. In a way where Floyd got to soak up every second of being with you, and you got to soak up every second with him. Where you could feel like time was racing by, yet checked and it had only been a few minutes and you had more time to cuddle and just talk and be together than you had thought. Moments like these were the best feeling in the world. "I still don't believe you." You jokingly poke Floyd in the back, causing him to yelp and arch away from your pointy nail. You watched as he looked up at you with the most playfully challenging look; an eyebrow cocked upwards and his eyes glittering in the small light of the dimmed lamp. "Well it happened! I don't know what to tell you." He sassed back, rolling his eyes in a playful manner before he laid his head back against your chest. You tightened your arms around Floyd, which caused him to smile softly. No matter what happened, what had happened. Floyd was back now and neither of you were leaving each others side again; at least not now or in the near future unless it was forced.

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