#(that is to say i love this and am eating it up thanks)

[davinawritings]

Could u do a bunny girl or nb with a bear guy ? <3

Hello! Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy 💕

Pairing: Male Hybrid Bear x Fem Bunny Hybrid

Warnings: Sex, Creampie, predator/prey, oral (fem receiving)

💕💕💕💕

Foraging in the forest was an almost daily occurrence for you. You enjoyed walking through the trees and usually found it very peaceful. You are especially grateful for the beautiful weather right now. The temperature has finally warmed after a long and harsh winter.

You probably should have been more cautious as bunny hybrids have many natural predators, but you have never had any problems in the past. The woods near your small burrow are pretty isolated, not many creatures come to this area. Not paying attention to your surroundings was your first mistake.

You are already far from your home when you register the feeling of being followed. You get ready to make a quick escape, a bunnies speed being its greatest asset when it comes to predators. Unfortunately before you can take a single step, a large claw wraps around your stomach and pulls you harshly against a large hairy chest.

You freeze in fear and the chest behind you rumbles in quiet laughter. “Don’t worry little bunny. I am not going to eat you. Although that was my original intention I have other needs I think you are more suited for. I’ve had a long sleep for winter and a perfect little bunny like you is just what my cock needs right now”.

Struggling proves to be futile when the bear hybrid lifts you easily with one arm, tearing your dress from your body with the other. He turns you to face him and your eyes look up and up and up. Everything about him seems massive. His height, his muscles, his large hands and claws, his cock that hangs heavy between his thick thighs.

He walks you over to a tree and lifts you so your thighs rest on his shoulders. He pushes you against the tree and the bark scratches at your back. His snout pushes against your clit as he buries his large tongue in your cunt. He eats you like a starved animal and in a way he is.

He moans almost as much as you do as he continues to devour you. Your hips move as you try and press harder against his face. His snout is teasing your clit relentlessly and you dig your hands into his fur at the slurping noises coming from him.

Just as you feel yourself about to explode on his tongue, he pulls his tongue from your pussy. You let out a frustrated huff and try to thrust your hips upon his snout harder, needing the orgasm he so rudely took away.

He laughs and gives your slit a long lick before bringing your legs off his shoulders. He slides your body down his own until your opening is sitting above his large cock. Your legs wrap around his thick waist and his cock slowly sinks inside you.

You both let out a groan of relief and you immediately use your hold on him to begin bouncing up and down on his cock. You speed up quickly, chasing the release he tore away from you.

He grips your hips and his claws dig into your love handles but you don't care. One of his hands moves to the tree, his claws cut through the bark as he says, “Fuck bunny. I need you to slow down. I ca-can’t… fuck… I haven't had pussy for months and I’ve never had a tight bunny pussy before. I nee-need a minute”.

You smirk at him but don’t slow the drop of your hips, the feeling of his cock slamming into your special spot too good to stop. He growls and shoves your back into the tree once more snapping his hips into yours without restraint, his only focus is his own pleasure.

The feeling of his large chest closing you in on the tree should be frightening but you only find it hot and comforting. His cock slams into you hard and you cry out in relief at your orgasm crashing over you. He only lasts one more thrust before he cums with a loud growl, pumping you full of his seed.

He moves you in his arms so he holds you bridal style and begins to walk back through the forest. At your questioning gaze he says. “I have no intentions of letting you go bunny. That's the best pussy I’ve ever had and for all we know you could be carrying my cubs. I’m bringing you home and fucking you all over again. Well first I'm going to go out and hunt. Wouldn’t want to accidentally eat my bunny”. He gives you a smirk and you can't tell if he’s joking or not.

Honestly as long as you get to ride him again, you can’t find it within yourself to care.

❤️🖤💕💕🖤❤️ Let me know what you think! ❤️🖤💕💕🖤❤️

[amirasainz]

Can you please do driver reader is literally the absolute Angel of the paddock and everyone adores her, she’s the cutest sweetest little bean that you can’t help but love, she’s a Redbull driver and Christian always fawns over her and talks about his ‘daughter’ ( it’s clear she’s the favourite ). Even the older drivers love her e.g kimi, jenson, Seb, mark. Platonic pleaseeee

Omg, that is such a sweet idea. I did the format a bit differently, hope you don't mind.

Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!

-XoXo

The Redbull Princess

YN YLN was a known name in the motor sport world. Not only was she the youngest driver currently on the grid - only 19 years - but she is the first female to ever drive for RedBull. Not oy that, but also the only woman on the grid.

Despite having a different gender, the other drivers never treated her bad. In fact, one could say that YN got the whole "Princess Treatment" from the drivers and teams. Each driver has taken a special place in her life.

Exhibit A: The protective one

The paddock was buzzing with energy, reporters swarming like bees near the Red Bull garage. YN was prepping for her media rounds, already feeling the weight of the spotlight on her. As she stepped into the press pen, a group of journalists immediately approached, firing off questions.

"YN, how do you feel about the pressure of being the youngest driver? Do you think it affects your performance?"

Before she could answer, Max appeared out of nowhere, slipping between her and the reporters with a grin that was anything but friendly. "I think that's enough for now," Max said, his blue eyes narrowing. "She’s got a race to focus on. Back off."

The reporters, visibly intimidated by the reigning World Champion, quickly shuffled away. YN let out a breath of relief, nudging Max with her elbow.

"You know, I can handle them."

Max chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, steering her away from the crowd. "Yeah, but why would I let them bother you when I can have fun scaring them off?"

"You're impossible," she laughed. "But thanks."

Exhibit B: The gossip King

YN walked into the Ferrari garage, still buzzing from practice. She found Charles leaning against his car, drinking water. His face lit up when he saw her.

"Charlie! Did you see that move I pulled in turn 9?" she said, excitedly plopping down next to him.

Charles grinned, instantly slipping into gossip mode. "I did! Smooth as butter. But did you hear about Fernando's radio message? He was furious about the tire degradation. Drama!"

YN's eyes widened. "No way! Spill all the tea, Leclerc."

Charles leaned in, whispering. "Apparently, his engineer told him to manage his tires better, and Nando snapped, saying, ‘I am managing them!’" He mimicked Fernando’s accent, making YN burst into laughter.

Exhibit C: The helping hand

The young RedBull driver just exited her car, when she felt someone grabbing her Birking Bag. When she quickly turned her head, she was meat with the sight of Carlos not only caring her bag in his hands and her coat on his arm, but carring his own stuff as well.

"Carlito, what are you doing? You don’t have to carry all my stuff for me." she told him, after they started walking towards the entrance.

Carlos mate an irritated sound, before responding to her. "Nonsense, hermana. Your job is to win this weekend. So let me help you with all the other things, comprende?"

Before Carlos could get an answer, she threw her arms around him, whispering a small thank you in his ear.

Exhibit D: The personal chef

YN sat in the Red Bull hospitality area, poking at her plate of food with a discontented look. Yuki walked over, noticing her lack of enthusiasm.

"Not good enough for you, huh?" Yuki teased, sliding into the seat across from her.

YN scrunched up her nose. "I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t eat this."

Without missing a beat, Yuki stood up. "I’ll make you something. What do you want?"

Her eyes brightened. "Yuki, really? You don’t have to!"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, you’re picky. I know that. What do you want? Miso soup? Onigiri?"

YN tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Onigiri sounds perfect."

Within minutes, Yuki was back, placing a plate of freshly made onigiri in front of her. YN took a bite and sighed contentedly. "You're the best, Yuki."

He grinned. "I know."

Exhibit E: The "annoying" prankster

YN was busy trying to make sure her helmet and gear were ready when suddenly, her entire backpack fell off the counter with a loud thud, spilling everything.

"Lando!" she yelled, spinning around, catching the British driver grinning like a mischievous child.

"What?" Lando said, feigning innocence, hands up. "It slipped."

YN gave him a look but couldn’t help the smile creeping on her face. Lando always knew how to lift her spirits, even if it was through relentless pranks.

"One day, Norris, one day!" she warned, pointing a finger at him.

"I’ll be waiting," Lando chuckled, before helping her pick up her things

Exhibit F: The shoulder to cry on

"I just can't believe it. I was so close. How did I manage to bin the car into the wall on the last corner" muttered the 19 year old. Her face pressed in Oscars neck, who was busy stroking her hair. He knew better than to interrupt her during her rant. Knowing it would help her when she got everything of her chest.

After a moment, she shakily breathed out. Oscar knew that the only thing he could do now was to let her fall apart while he would catch every piece of her.

And that's what he did. While she cried her heart out, Oscar held her close to him, rocking them slowly in a soothing matter. It felt like nothing could happen to her in Oscars arms. He would protect her from the outside world as long as she needed

Sometimes actions speak louder than words

Exhabit G: The fashionista

Lewis stood beside YN, eyeing her racing suit critically before smirking. "That’s not gonna work."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

He pointed at her boots. "Those shoes? No way. They don’t match the rest of the suit."

YN raised an eyebrow. "I'm not trying to walk the runway, Lewis. I’m racing."

Lewis rolled his eyes. "You can do both. Come on, let’s get you a new pair of shoes. You’ll thank me later."

And true to his words, YN received a new pair of racing shoes only a few hours later. They certainly looked better than her old pair.

Exhibit H: The mother-hen

George was hovering near the buffet in the paddock, watching YN closely as she piled food onto her plate. He narrowed his eyes as she bypassed the salad section.

"YN, you need to eat more greens. And have you had any water today?" George asked, his tone dangerously close to motherly.

YN groaned. "George, I’m fine. I had water this morning."

"That’s not enough," he replied sternly, filling a glass and handing it to her. "Drink. Now."

She pouted but took the glass. "Okay, Mom."

Exhibit I: The proud dad

During a press conference, Christian Horner stood beside YN, smiling at the reporters. "You all know my daughter here is the star of the show," he said, gesturing towards YN.

YN blushed at the comment. "Christian!"

The reporters laughed, but YN knew Christian wasn’t entirely joking. He had taken her under his wing from day one, treating her like family. And she couldn’t have been more grateful.

Exhibit J: Bwoah

In a rare quiet moment, YN had somehow convinced Kimi Räikkönen — the Iceman himself — to do a TikTok trend with her. As the camera rolled, Kimi deadpanned his way through the trend, barely moving but somehow nailing it.

"Thanks for doing this, Kimi," YN said, grinning as they finished.

Kimi shrugged. "Bwoah, don’t mention it, kid. But don’t tell the other drivers that you are my favourite"

YN laughed. "Deal."

[chrisbesitos]

I need a blurb of Chris saying he never had a favorite color before he met younger reader

ex: Chris and younger!reader were going on their first date. It was all cute and great energy until Chris asked “what do you think my favorite color is?” Yn spent a while looking into Chris blue eyes and said “orange!” Was she right? No. Truth is Chris doesn’t have a favorite color, but ever since yn said orange he could never look at orange the same. Orange reminded him of yn and her beautiful smile as her eyes lit up when she said the color. Now it’s current day and yn bought Chris a gift (like an orange sweatshirt) and yn said “why is ur favorite color orange?” And Chris told her the story on why orange is his fav color

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it made me think of you

"You have ice cream in your nose." Chris said, pointing to Y/N's nose, she crossed her eyes trying to look laughing. "Let me clean this." He rubbed her nose, cleaning the pink from the strawberry ice cream she was eating.

They went out to the movies, it was the first they hung out without Chris' brothers and their friends. Every time they hung out, they never could have some time alone, because Chris' brothers are always interrupting and being annoying. So, after a long time, Chris decided to invite Y/N to go to the movies, but only he and her, his brothers wasn't invited. So, it was a date.

"Is all gone?" Y/N asked, showing her nose to Chris, he denied laughing. She strained her legs to Chris' lap, biting the cone of her ice cream, the boy slightly caressed her skin with his fingertips. "What do you think my favorite color is?" She asked with her mouth full.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, dummy." Chris said, pinching Y/N's thigh. She giggled, kicking his chest. "Well, your favorite color is probably green, because you know, you wear this color all the time." He said, smiling. He's just joking, because he knows everything about you. "You know your soul is pink, I love when you wear pink."

"I wear pink all the time." Y/N said, Chris nodding with his head.

"My turn, what do you think my favorite color is?" Chris asked, throwing his napkin on the car dashboard, Y/N touched her chin thinking about the answer. She scrunched her nose, her lips leaning in a smile.

"You always wear orange, so orange is your favorite color." Y/N said, touching Chris' chin with her foot, she was only wearing socks. The boy held her foot and put it back on his lap, laughing. "Am I right?"

"Yeah, I like orange." Chris smiled, rubbing her legs passionately. Y/N smiled proudly.

But it was a lie, Chris didn't have a favorite color. He likes all of them, but he never had a favorite. But since this day, Chris's favorite color is orange. Every time he sees the color orange, he remembers the day of their first date. Y/N's pretty smile, her bright eyes, the pink sweater she was wearing. She's his favorite girl, so orange will always make he remember her.

When Y/N was shopping with Nick, she found it a orange hoodie and made her remember Chris, so she bought. Later in the day, when they were together in the room, Y/N was showing her new clothes and she gave Chris the present she bought.

"Did you like it? It's orange and you love orange." Y/N said, smiling and holding the hoodie. Chris nodded, smiling like her. He grabbed the hoodie and put it on his body. "Fits perfectly."

"Yeah, I love it." He said, Chris held her waist and pulled Y/N closer to him. He kissed her nose. "Thank you so much, babydoll."

"Why is your favorite color orange?" She asked, with her hands around his neck, inhaling his scent. He rubbed her waist, smiling at her question.

"Because of you." He touched her nose. "I didn't have a favorite color until the night you told me my favorite is orange, since then it is my favorite. Reminds me of you."

"Really?"

"Yes, make me think of you." He gave her a peck on her lips. "And because it fits me really well, don't you think?" Y/N giggled, nodding with her head. She loves Chris so much, he's the man of her life, definitely.

they're so babies 😭😭😭 i love write younger!reader

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2

taglist | masterlist

[firehose118]

the person you’ve become

rated t | bucktommy | 4k

By some miracle—or because he’s just that talented—Evan manages to arrange twelve different people’s schedules so that they’re free on the same Saturday afternoon. He does, indeed, use the clipboard. Tommy considers himself a pretty organized guy, but this is on another level. Evan is amazing. He has everything planned down to the number of cilantro leaves they need.

He’s never seen Evan so stressed out. He’s never seen Evan so happy.

They spend the night before and the morning of the barbecue prepping. Tommy is a perfectly competent cook on his own, but he’s happy to play sous chef even as Evan gets increasingly specific about how Tommy should be preparing the food. He has to eat almost a full carrot’s worth of sticks because Evan said he’d cut them too wide.

“Breathe, baby,” Tommy says when Evan almost melts down after realizing they somehow forgot to buy ranch dressing. “They’re not gonna disown you over one missing dip.”

Two hands deep in a pork rub, Evan looks over his shoulder and gives Tommy a look that’s the closest thing to a glare he’s ever received from him. “Tommy, we have carrots and celery already cut and nothing to dip them in. The kids aren’t gonna eat the vegetables plain, and we don’t have time to go back to the store.”

“Good thing we’re not the only people in the world who can go to the store,” Tommy says, pulling out his phone. “I’ll tell Eddie to pick some up on his way over. Okay?”

Evan’s shoulders deflate as he relaxes. “Yeah, okay. Good idea. Thank you.”

Tommy regrets trying to make light of this. It’s serious to Evan. He cares deeply about getting this right, about showing his love and proving he can take care of his family. Tommy isn’t the only one looking for approval with this barbecue.

Tommy shoots the text off to Eddie (Evan is close to losing it. Do not come over without ranch dressing or he might kill us both). He walks over and wraps his arms around Evan from behind. The knot of the apron digs into Tommy’s stomach where he’s pressed against Evan. It’s not something Tommy ever thought he’d find hot, but here he is.

“Everyone who’s coming today loves you,” Tommy murmurs into Evan’s ear. “They’re gonna be proud of you. I know I am. You’re doing such a good job.”

“Don’t distract me, please,” Evan says, but Tommy can hear the smile in his voice. Adorable.

“Yes, chef.” Tommy squeezes his arms around Evan’s waist and presses a kiss to his cheek, and then he backs off. “What’s next?”

{read on ao3}

[bpmiranda]

The Bodyguard II |l. howlett|

A/N: slow burn, friends to lovers, angst, 21y/o f!character, bodyguard!logan x original character, flirtationship, drug use, depictions of violence, mentions of organized crime

The Bodyguard

Mercedes had imagined a proposition like this would occur when Emilio had begun to pay for her to go to nursing school, but she was far too excited at the time to question it. As she was nearing her graduation, it was beginning to sink in that this might be the life she was stuck with and it didn’t sit well with her.

“You would basically be on retainer for the cartel.” Logan concluded.

“Yeah, some dream job,” She muttered as she set her empty coffee cup down in front of her to run her fingers through her hair. “Logan, I had plans to leave Tijuana. I wanted to go to the States and start my own thing over there. If I get caught up in Emilio’s business…” She trailed off, fidgeting nervously with her cuticles. “I don’t want to get hurt.”

“You won’t get hurt,” Logan reassured her as he placed a comforting hand on her knee and squeezed it. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if you did. And you could still go anywhere you want to go.” He said with a shrug as he leaned back in his chair and watched her shake her head.

Mercedes gave him a doubtful look, those deep brown eyes looking at him sadly and he hated to see her like that. “No one says no to the cartel, or my brother. Do you really think it’ll be that easy for me?”

Logan couldn’t help but be sympathetic towards her. Maybe it was the years that they had known each other that made him grow soft for her. Maybe it was that little pout on her lips as she confided in him, trusted him entirely with her issues. Maybe he just enjoyed being useful to her. “I’ll help you figure something out, sugar.”

Over time, and with a lot of effort, Logan had earned a certain amount of authority within the Vasquez cartel, mainly over issues of security, but Emilio had come to trust him as a confidante. Especially when it came to anything dealing with his sister. After dropping Mercedes off at the clinic where she worked part-time one morning, Logan arranged to meet with her brother.

Emilio was having breakfast with his wife at her family’s restaurant which Logan knew well. Her name was Clara Espinoza, the Espinozas’ were old family friends of the Vasquez’ and she was a long time lover of Emilio’s. “Logan!” The drug lord greeted him with a strong handshake and a hug. “Come, eat with us.” Logan was guided into a chair across from the couple and he thanked them for the invitation. “What to drink? Un café? Una cerveza? (A coffee? A beer?) Whatever you want, amigo.” Emilio gestured at the waiter standing over Logan.

“Beer’s fine.” Logan said gruffly and the waiter nodded before retreating. “Thanks for meeting me. I won’t take too much of your time.” Logan returned his attention to his boss who waved him off as he sipped his coffee.

“No, no, you’ve caught me at a good time,” Emilio said with a grin and Clara chuckled softly beside him. He smiled, kissed her cheek and gestured to her. “How can I be in a rush when my lovely wife is sharing this wonderful meal with me?” Clara blushed, scoffing lightly at her husband as she shook her head. “Dime, Logan, que sucede con Mercedes?” (Tell me, Logan, what’s going on with Mercedes?) Emilio asked as he sat back and wrapped an arm around his wife.

“Seems like she’s got different plans than those that have been made for her,” Logan said to which Emilio gave him an understanding nod and he continued. “She told me she’d rather find work in the States after she’s graduated nursing school.”

“Hm,” Emilio nodded as he took in a deep breath, rubbing his chin with his free hand that wasn’t caressing his wife’s shoulder. “That puts me in quite a predicament. You see,” Emilio set both his arms on the table as he gestured with both hands. “My men cannot heal as quickly as you, am I right?” Logan nodded, knowing exactly where the conversation was heading, but not daring interrupt, not because Logan couldn’t hold his own in a fight with Emilio - it was a matter of respect. “And more often than not, I cannot have my men checking into a hospital after getting shot in the arm or the leg or wherever. Too many questions.” Emilio thanked the waiter who suddenly appeared and placed Logan’s beer in front of him. Logan took a long swig as his boss continued talking. “And so, I need a nurse available to my men. You see my predicament, don’t you, Logan?”

“Sure.” Logan said.

“What is she really worried about?” Emilio asked.

Logan clicked his tongue as he shrugged. “She’s scared of getting hurt, and I can’t blame her. With all due respect, I’ve tangled with some of your men. They’re not exactly the picture of chivalry.”

“Lo sé, lo se,” (I know, I know,) Emilio sighed, rubbing his jaw pensively and he turned to his wife. “What would you advise me, amor mío (love of mine)?”

Clara smiled appreciatively at her husband and she looked at Logan. “Mercedes wants to pursue her career in the United States?” Logan nodded. “Would you go with her? To protect her?” Another more eager nod. “So then my Emilio must fund a trip for two across the border without her being seen because everyone knows who she is and in turn who her brother is, which will not come cheap.” She explains, looking over at Emilio who nods, following his wife’s train of thought. “Then if you make it across the border, we pay for housing, supplies, maybe Emilio sends an extra man for the love he has for Mercedes. However, we have already lost you, Logan, and you are worth twenty men and she cannot very well live on her own in a country where we have no strings to pull. Does this make sense?” Logan nods, his jaw tight and his hold tighter on the beer bottle.

Suddenly, Emilio clapped, laughing lightly while he looked at Clara as if the problem had solved itself. “Ah, pues ahí esta!” (Ah, well, there it is!) He exclaimed happily and Logan stared at his beer bottle, wondering how Mercedes would react to him giving her the bad news that she’s already got the job she doesn’t want. “(My sister) Mi hermana has nothing to worry about because she has you, amigo. You will be with her the twenty-four hours of the day, seven days of the week. Twenty-four, seven, si?” Logan nodded. “She comes in to patch somebody up, you come in with her. I send her to one of my safehouses, you go with her. Easy peasy, done.” Emilio dusted off his hands and raised them up. “Algo más?” (Anything else?)

“Nothing.”

While Logan was waiting outside of the clinic later that day for Mercedes, he smoked a cigar and wondered how he would break the news to her that she did not in fact have a choice. It felt awful to bring her bad news, but there wasn’t much he could do short of running away with her. Running off would mean she would be hurt, and staying would mean only possibly getting hurt. Logan felt more comfortable with possibilities than playing around with her safety across the border.

“Hey,” Mercedes suddenly greeted him with a kiss on the cheek as she slid into the passenger seat and she buckled her belt. “Did you talk to Emilio?” Her eyes were wide and expectant and Logan sighed.

“I did.” He said as he started the car.

From his tone alone, she knew he didn’t have good news for her. It wasn’t like she expected anything different, at least not the realist part of her. The dreamer side of her had held onto a little bit of hope, however. “But he said you’ll be with me the whole time?” She asked after he had explained how the conversation had gone.

“Twenty-four, seven.” Logan nodded, looking over at her as they stopped at red light. “Is that a little more comforting?” He asked with a smirk and she rolled her eyes playfully.

“I guess.” She teased and he chuckled. “Was Clara there?” Her foot was tapping anxiously in the air as she had her legs crossed. Logan hesitated, but he nodded, keeping his eyes on the stoplight and hoping it would turn green before she asked him a more uncomfortable question - which she did anyway. “What did she say?” Mercedes asked in a bitter tone because she knew Clara would always put in her two cents simply because Emilio couldn’t live without them. Logan cleared his throat and looked over at her with a little shake of his head. “Tell me. I won’t be upset.” She lied.

Mercedes and Clara did not get along, this was a fact Logan knew and he’d be a fool to add fuel to that fire. It began with some dispute not long after the wedding about some items in her father’s home, the home Clara was now living in which Mercedes couldn’t stand. Another reason she decided to move to the other side of town.

“Sweetheart, just know Emilio’s keeping you around, okay?” Logan almost sighed in relief when the light turned green and he pressed on the gas to get her home as quickly as possible. Her hand suddenly rested on his thigh and she lightly drummed her fingers on his strong muscle. “Stop that.” He barked and she only continued, lightly rubbing his knee as she gave him a doe eyed look. “‘Cedes, I’d take a bullet for you, but I’m not getting between you and her.” Logan said firmly, a sad attempt at saying no to her.

“Was it her idea to keep me here?” She asked and he sighed, her grip tightened on his leg at this and he nodded. “Mierda!” (Shit!) She punched his thigh which made him chuckle and she crossed her arms furiously. “That bitch.”

While she stewed in the passenger seat, Logan finally parked outside of her apartment building and he walked her inside, up to her door where he leaned against the frame and watched her angrily fight her key into the lock of her doorknob. “Don’t think about it too much, alright, kid?” He told her as she finally got the door open. Mercedes turned to him with an unamused expression. “The guys your brother’s got running for him are professionals. What are the chances you’ll have to patch someone up very often anyway?”

It was more often than either of them thought and being on retainer for her brother had worsened Mercedes’ attitude. Logan noticed she seemed to hide in her apartment aside from going to work or school. It concerned him, but she kept pushing him away, telling him everything was fine when he had come to know her so well that he knew she was lying. But what more could he do if she didn’t want to talk to him about it? There was still a job to get done.

“‘Cedes!” Logan was pounding on her door, glancing at the time on his wristwatch as he continued knocking until she appeared in front of him with an annoyed expression.

“Logan!” Mercedes scolded, her brows furrowed as she stared up at him in disbelief. “I have neighbors.” She said as she pulled him into her apartment and shut the door behind him. “What the hell’s going on?” She asked him, crossing her arms over herself and it was then that he realized she was wearing only a tank top and some panties. Her hair was frizzy as if she were just getting up and he chuckled.

“You’re sleeping in now?” He asked, sounding more like a father figure than he intended to and she rolled her eyes as she walked into her kitchen. His eyes fell on her ass, not failing to notice how it moved with every step and he found himself following her.

“Is that what this is?” She asked as she filled a glass with water from the faucet and turned back around to watch him as she drank it. “A wake up call?” She asked as she set the glass down. Logan shook his head, not necessarily in a big rush now as he was looking at her. Mercedes suddenly snapped her fingers at him and his eyes met her deep brown ones. “Que paso, Logan?” (What happened, Logan?) She urged in an irritated tone.

“Emilio needs you. Someone’s been cut up pretty bad and they need stitches.” Logan answered and her eyes widened.

“You’re fucking kidding.” She groaned in disbelief as she hurriedly ran to her room to get dressed and Logan took his sunglasses off to rub a hand over his face. Pull it together, he thought to himself as he refilled the glass she had used and chugged down some cold water.

At the safe house, Logan kept her shielded behind him while guiding her into the rundown, empty home which sat in the middle of a sketchy neighborhood. His gaze seared every guy that watched them come through, protectively holding onto her waist as he led her into the bedroom where a young boy was sobbing and wincing from the pain of some deep slashes he received in an arm and a leg. “Oh, shit.” Mercedes breathed out as she quickly knelt beside him on the makeshift cot.

“Oye, amigo, para fuera!” (Hey, buddy, get out!) Another guy in the room tried to shove Logan out and he simply punched him in the face, his knuckles didn’t even bruise while the guy now had blood spurting out of his nose. Mercedes looked over her shoulder at them and Logan shrugged it off, leaning against the door and crossing his arms.

“He might need you to take a look at that when you’re done.” Logan said and she only gave him a little incredulous head shake before returning her attention to the boy bleeding out.

No one tried to tell Logan anything once he made it clear he wasn’t leaving the room while she was still in there. Logan watched her easily calm the young boy down with chit chat and explained what she was doing before she did it. It seemed second nature to her to care for others and he wondered if she was like this at the clinic as well. This was the Mercedes he had come to know, sweet and gentle. It confirmed for him that there was something else going on with her that made her turn to smoking and lacking in the general upkeep of her space.

After about an hour, she finished stitching the kid up. “Ahí está,” (There you go) Mercedes said as she snipped the thread in the boy’s arm and wrapped a bandage around the wounds. “Change them every two hours and keep them clean, okay?” She said and the boy nodded, thanking her in Spanish and squeezing her hand gratefully as he rested back on the cot, sighing in relief that he wouldn’t be bleeding out today.

The guy whom Logan had punched approached them suddenly and Mercedes quickly placed a hand on Logan’s chest as he made a move towards him. “Wait,” She told him as she dug in her medical bag and pulled out an ice pack. “No está rota,” (It’s not broken,) She told the guy as she inspected his bleeding nose while she shook the pack before handing it to him. “But next time it might be if you try anything like that again.” She warned and he nodded as he backed up.

Mercedes then turned to Logan with a little smile as she zipped up her bag. “Ready?” He asked her with a bit of a proud smirk, stepping away from the door as she nodded and he guided her back out. The guy running this safe house stopped them at the front door and he looked Mercedes up and down quizzically before taking her hand and sticking a wad of money in her palm. “Gracias, doctora.” (Thanks, doctor.) He said and then he looked at Logan and nodded towards his car parked in front. “Now get outta here.”

The car ride was silent and Logan was curious as to what was going on in her mind. “Wanna get a drink?” He asked, looking over at her and she nodded with a small smile.

The bar they stop at is one on Emilio’s payroll and Mercedes is immediately greeted and tended to when they walk in. Logan follows behind her as he eyes the other patrons, making sure there isn’t an unfamiliar or unwelcomed face in the bar. Once seated in a corner booth, they order their drinks, and Logan notices her mood is more uplifted than before they arrived at the safe house. “Thanks for staying with me.” She says suddenly, her hands folded in her lap as she looks at him across the round table.

Logan lights a cigar while he shrugs. “Just part of the agreement with Emilio.” He says and she only smirks. “What?” He asked her with a raised brow as he closed his zippo lighter and stuffed it back into his pocket.

“Was part of the agreement to punch anyone that tried to keep you from me?” She asked and Logan chuckled as he blew out a cloud of smoke above them.

It wasn’t, but she didn’t need to know that. “Would you have preferred that I left you alone in there with him?” He asked and she rolled her eyes as she shook her head, still smirking as she knew he was avoiding the obvious.

The way he stared at her this morning was no slip up. “I’ve seen how you look at me, Lo.” She said, resting her hands on the table in front of her and he moistened his lips as he waited for her to continue. “I look at you sometimes.” She said with a nonchalant shrug, and he felt a connection between his pelvis and his heart, aching for the girl across from him.

“Sugar,” Logan said with a sigh as he ashed his cigar in the ashtray sitting on the table. “You don’t want to go down that road with me.”

A small frown turned her lips and she asked, “Don’t you think it’d be fun?” Her elbow propped up on the table and she rested her chin on her palm as she gazed at the handsome features of his face, wondering what his lips might feel like on hers or on her neck or somewhere else. The adrenaline is this afternoon was still pumping through her and she desperately needed a way to release it.

Logan wasn’t sure what her game was, but he figured he’d play along. “Say we fuck tonight when I drop you off,” He says and she bites her lip at the thought, closing her eyes as she makes a show of really thinking about it. The thought aroused her and Logan pretended not to notice, pretended his mouth didn’t water from her scent. “What happens in the morning when I pick you up?”

“So you wouldn’t spend the night with me?” She asked, her eyes opening and feigning to be hurt as she placed her hand over her heart to which Logan rolled his eyes.

“Forget it.” He smirked, thanking the waitress as she dropped off their drinks and he noticed she gave him a flirty look as she mumbled a soft ‘my pleasure’ while also setting down a napkin in front of him with her phone number.

Mercedes noticed too and she couldn’t help the light scoff that left her lips. Logan downed his shot of whiskey and he avoided looking at her as he knew exactly what she was thinking. “Clearly you’ve got choices.” She said as she sipped her drink, eyeing him over the rim of her glass. Logan could’ve sworn he detected a hint of jealousy, but he decided not to pull at the thread. He had to remain professional, had to get her home at the end of the day without fucking her, or he risked everything he had built.

They had a few more drinks over which they talked about the general stuff which they usually do; her schooling, their work, Emilio’s work. It interested her more than anything, however, to know more about his life before her, the centuries he had spent wandering around, and how things had changed. Meanwhile, everything before meeting her was slowly beginning to matter less and less to Logan.

“When exactly did you get into that stuff?” He asked as he watched her roll up after he swallowed his fourth shot of whiskey.

Mercedes shrugged as she finished sealing the joint with the moisture of her tongue and she slid around the table towards him, holding the spliff between her lips while Logan lit it for her. As she was about to slide back around to her seat, his arm came down around her shoulders and he kept her there beside him. She smiled to herself and rested against him. “This girl at college always had some and we would smoke from time to time.” She said after blowing out a cloud and ashing in the same tray he was using.

“Is that the friend that’s got you behaving differently?” He asked as his thumb gently caressed her bare shoulder and she looked up at him.

“Different how?” She asked, hitting her joint again.

Logan shrugged as he toked on his cigar, doing another scan of the patrons in the bar around them before ashing. “Your room’s messy which isn’t normal for you, you’re smoking weed and drinking which isn’t something you’ve shown interest in before recently, you said you were scared of working for the cartel, but I seem to remember you didn’t want to let fear control your life. Something changed.” He pointed out.

Mercedes was quiet for a moment before saying, “You’re the first person that‘s asked.” She said softly. Logan looked down at her and leaned away from her a little bit. “I’m not a normal college student, Logan.” She sighed, resting her elbow on the table and her head in her hand as she turned her body towards him. “I just want to be a normal girl with friends who do drugs and has a messy room and doesn’t care so much about trying to please someone who isn’t even paying attention.” Logan realizes she’s talking about Emilio and he frowns when her eyes water threateningly. “My dad used to call me everyday and talk to me. We’d have conversations that normal fathers and daughters have, you know?” Logan nodded even though he didn’t. “I just miss that. I miss just being his daughter and him telling me how much he loved me; he was the only one that unconditionally supported me.”

Logan should’ve realized she had not properly processed her father’s death. It was quite sudden and tragic, and he recalled now that she had been away at college when it happened. Mercedes didn’t get to say goodbye like Emilio did and that was clearly taking its toll on her now. “Wanna go home and talk about it?” He asked and she gave him a little playful look.

“Don’t you have a waitress to see about?” Logan smirked and glanced over at the waitress who was already smiling sweetly at him.

“I’ve got her number. I can just call and apologize later.” He said as he nudged the young girl and she smiled bashfully, nodding as he guided her out of the booth. He set some cash down on the table before her leading her out to his car - forgetting the napkin with the waitress’s number.

At a stoplight, Logan looked over Mercedes having gotten the feeling that something was on her mind and he placed a hand on her knee. Her sweet face looked over at him and he gave her a nod. Her eyes moved away from him and onto the stoplights. “Are you going to leave me someday?” She asked quietly. Logan raised an eyebrow curiously as she picked at her cuticles. “My dad passed away, Emilio got married and stopped calling me all together,” Her teary eyes looked over at him and she gave him a sad smile. “You’re the only person I’ve got left.”

Logan’s heart ached as he heard her confess that she felt abandoned, cast aside, and her attempt at distancing herself was beginning to make sense now. “I’m not going to leave you, ‘Cedes.” He told her, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. “You’re mine to take care of, aren’t you?” He teased and she couldn’t fight the smile on her face.

In her apartment, Logan was sitting at the kitchen table while she paced around and talked about how it felt to have missed the funeral, to not have been at her father’s deathbed to share her last words to him. Slowly, through the night, he could see her coming back to him. That sweet girl he had first met five years ago, every tear seemed to be washing away this new persona of hers that pretended not to care when in reality, she cared a lot.

“You know what the weirdest part is though?”

They were on her couch now. She was sitting with her legs criss crossed, facing him while he sat back on the other end, smoking his cigar, his thighs spread out as he sat comfortably. “Tell me.” Logan said, looking at her as she picked at her cuticles.

Mercedes looked back up at him and shrugged. “I thought I’d be scared of the men my brother works with, but I think I was more scared that I couldn’t sympathize with them.” Her eyes searched his face for understanding and he nodded, wanting her to continue. “Seeing that boy today, it made me realize he and I aren’t cut out for this life, but maybe that’s because people like my brother need people like us around. People that can care for them without judgment.”

There was a moment of silence during which Logan considered telling her that he thought she was perhaps the most compassionate person he ever knew, that he couldn’t have ever imagined he would come to care this much for her. But what would that do?

“You’ve got a good heart, kid.” He said as he took another puff of his cigar. “Even better head, don’t stop using it, yeah?”

A soft laugh left her lips as she began to lay down. “Thanks for listening to me ramble, Lo.” She whispered, looking up at him with sleepy eyes as they had been talking for almost two hours now. Her head was lying on the couch’s arm rest while her legs were now draped over his lap and he couldn’t stop staring at her.

“My pleasure.” His tone was mocking of the waitress, making her chuckle and she playfully pushed on his ribs with her foot which made him laugh as he caught it and caressed it softly. “Get some sleep. I’ll spend the night.”

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened

[kaya-p]

heyy tay I would love it if you could write a nsfw alphabet for hasan because I reallyyyyy enjoy the way you write :))

NSFW ALPHABET WITH HASAN 🐦‍🔥❤️‍🔥

notes: im unbelievably horny… (and thank u sm anon😭)

🔖 — @babydollfacedangel @the-phantom-author @fullofgutsndopamine @questionable-behaviour @hasblair @bunnywabigheart @nfr-girly @benzodiazepines-withdrawal @kayakhasan @vicravluv @aomi-nabi

my pinned + my inbox is 📭 !

i am BEGGING YOU, to listen to this song while reading this please <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

— i see hasan being a cuddly guy afterwards. gets you anything you need, he LOVES looking after you in bed and afterwards <333

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

— EVERTHING, especially your pussy. like he said before, all vaginas are beautiful <3

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

— SUCH A DIRTY SLUT FOR CREAMPIES!!! he’s practically confessed to enjoying creampies…

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

— he LOVES unsafe sex… heres the video at 46:08 <333

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

— he’s said that his body count is over 100…

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

— missionary with ur legs on his shoulders… ifykyk

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

— it’s a mixed of both, but when he’s giving… HES GIVING. but he does giggle every now and then <3

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

— STUBBLE GIRLYS STAND UP. there’s stubble/full shaved down there. makes him feel and look 10000000x hotter;)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

— like he’s said before… light some candles, slow n sensual, messy ass pussy fucker n eater ANDDDD lives for erotic and ambience lighting😋

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

— he prefers to be with you, while jacking off. ive explained this in my most popular nsfw work of him here.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

daddy, size, spanking, roleplay, exhibitionism, voyeurism, brat, praise, domination, creampies, blindfold sex, diy porn, choking (asphyxiation), katoptronophilia, public sex, quirofilia, getting caught, being close to being caught, degradation (to you), orgasm control, dirty talk, threesomes (if your comfortable with it), objectification, grinding, dry humping, breeding, sadism anddddd aftercare!

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

— preferably at home (anywhere at home LMFAO) but doesn’t mind at all to do in public…

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

— you could literally looking like a hot mess and he would careless with bending over and pulling down ur joggers.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

— anything you don’t wanna do (same w him)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

— HES AN ACTUAL GOD… MESSY EATERRRR, beard… SOAKED (and his stubble is getting lighter), top… SOAKED, he for sure cums when whenever he’s eating you out. he’s going to fucking TOWN😭😭😭

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

— slow; for whenever he’s feeling sexy n erotic. but rough… OWHHHHHH🫡, until you become sore, beaten, used and EXHAUSTED. ifykyk, that clip of him on stream, the way to disney pride… HIS THRUSTS ARE SO DEEP, SEXY, SMOOTH, AND SWIFT AS HELLLLL

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

— sure why not, but you both prefer to go to third base then second base tbh. BUT, if you guys are out-out, 100% going to second base on each other no matter if you’re out with friends or on a date😭

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

— tbh, no. he’s had 100 women, sure he’s experienced. but like he’s said before, he’s pretty vanilla with some sexy ass kinks tho.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

— if i remember him saying before, he’s lasted for fours hours. DONT FULLY QUOTE ME ON THAT… I NEED TO FIND THIS CLIP OF IT. GIMME A CHANCE 😭😭

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

— 10000000%, he’s taking them toys to the battlefield. and likes he’s said before in the BDSM video, he has his own toys. in fact, he loves using them during sex.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

— are you fucking joking me… HAVE YOU SEE THIS MAN???? HES TEASING US EVERYDAY ON STREAM???? he’s a big PHATTTT teaser…

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

— in the BDSM video, he’s said he moans, growls and grunts a lot sooo…

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

— loves creampie-ing you in public whenever you don’t have the chance of changing underwear. he’s fucking loves filling you up, while letting his cock twitch in you when he’s done <3

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

— ive already stated this beforeeeee, 7inches and curves to the left!!!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

— pretty high, cant match it with u tho ;)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

— are you kidding me??? straight away LMFAOOO

[meo-eiru]

Hihihiii :3 Hope you're having a great day author!

This is my first direct interaction in this website generally speaking, so what better way to start than rambling my head off about the twink slutty baby? YES. Lavi. That cute whore that's been on my mine for a good while now...I want to kiss him, want him to cuddle me so bad grrrr I want to rim his pretty ass and use it as my only life source for the rest of my mortal existence. I want to follow every single one of his instructions on how to please him while he guides me with that shit eating smug grin '>:3'. I totally see him as a power bottom, riding my strap effortlessly while he pins me down telling me how much of a pathetic virgin I am and how fortunate I am to even be touching him, how lucky I am that he's willing to teach me how to make him feel good, how he'd laugh once I'm exhausted and he keeps nonchalantly bouncing still with his endless incubi stamina...MMMM...But also, I want to hit his ribs each time he throws an annoying tauntrum, or make him whimper each time he breaks something expensive, I want to sneak into his phone and watch just all the dozens of porn he has in his gallery along with his search history, I need to make him cry so hard until we're both doubting who's the real pervert here...I NEED to peg him. I NEED to spank his cute jiggling ass until it's red and sore. I need to make him deepthroath my strap and perhaps give me head. I NEED to grope his cute small chest and nurse on his rosy nipples while he tries to make a teasing remark only to be interrupted by his own lewd moans. I NEED to watch how all that lube and cum slowly leaks out of his puffy hole with profane sounds while spreading his supple asscheeks further apart as he whines and mewls begging for more. I NEED to cuddle him from behind while I finger his thight whorish asshole, I NEEEED to give him some genuine, gentle love-making while kissing his pretty face and cooing sweet nothings into his ears while he grabs onto my neck thightly saying shamelessly how good it feels.

I want to give him goodnight kisses on the forehead, cheeks, nose, eyes, tummy and finally his soft lips. I want to feel him clinging onto me with his limbs (and tail of course) while we sleep, even better if he craddles my head on his chest. I might even forgive his murders if he promises to be a good boy with a pretty pout even though he'd probably be crossing his fingers behind his back. I want to do each other's hair and nails. I want him to listen to the music I listen to (Rabbit Hole by DECO27 would be SO him). I want to see his deadpaned and disdainful face when I tell him all my bad jokes. I want to go out with him at those aesthetic cafés and buy him everything he wants even if I won't be able to buy anything else for a while. I want us to get matching couple cheesy things. I want us to do lovey dovey stuff together and maybe a kiss that doesn't end up looking out of a hentai. A wholesome one. I want him to live on my lap. I want him to try make him wear decente clothes from time to time. I want to see his reaction once my mortal life comes to an end. (If he cries and gets depressed he'll look so pretty but if he laughs he'll also look so pretty). I want to show him off to my friends even if I know he's probably the type that types 'uwu', ':3' or 'nya~' either satirically or not. I would bear the cringe for him. I want to send him memes and reels and, overall, just hear his laugh because I'm sure it would be gorgeous just like him. <3

He literally lives rent free in my mind this is a call for help. I crave for more Lavi content.

I'm not horny. You are.

Anyway, thanks for the constant posting! I love how you write your characters and draw/paint! You're one of my favorite artists. Eat well and have a good day/night. :)

Oh my dear GOD this was a ROLLER COASTER

I don't even know where to start. Alright so first of all, this is so deliciously written omg??? You made me put Lavi on a plate and eat him I bet he'd taste like cake. The contrast between the wholesome parts and the extremely unholy parts were crazy I felt like I was in a car that randomly speeds up and down

Rabbit hole is indeed very Lavi, the animation fits him so well as well. If I knew how to make them I'd definitely draw a Lavi version. And yes he's definitely the type who'd type "uwu" and ">:3" unironically

THE DRAWINGS ARE SO CUTE AS WELL!! HE LOOKS SO ADORABLE LOOK AT HIS CUTE LITTLE FACE AND CUTE BUTT

[fluentmoviequoter]

We've Got Time

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!French/American!reader

Summary: You return to Los Angeles from France to visit your childhood friend Lucy Chen and find everything your heart has needed.

Warnings: fluff, r makes Tim a little nervous

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Come on!” Lucy groans. “I told you not to eat macarons when you can’t share.”

You smile guiltily and set the pastel pink macaron back on the hand-painted dish beside your phone. “Sorry, Luce.”

Lucy sighs, and a pang in your heart reminds you how much you miss her. She became your best friend during summers in America as a kid, but you haven’t had a chance to visit the States in too long.

“How’s policing going?” you inquire.

“As good as it can, I guess. Tim is still grumpy and finds something wrong with most of my decisions, but I’m learning.”

“You’re good at everything you decide to put your mind to, Lucy, and no matter what this Tim guy says, you’re going to be a great cop.”

“I think an éclair would make me a better cop,” Lucy replies with a dramatic pout.

“Éclairs au chocolate make everything better.”

“Boot!” someone yells in the background, causing Lucy to roll her eyes.

“Bye, Lucy,” you say. “Je t’aime.”

“If you really loved me, you wouldn’t tease me with macarons and French countryside on all of our calls. But… I love you, too.”

Your phone screen changes as Lucy ends the call, and as you trace the paint on your plate with your eyes, you decide what to do. It’s time to visit your best friend.

You straighten your jacket as the U.S. customs officer looks through your bag. Your French and American passports sit on the metal desk as he lifts a wrapped Saint Laurent box.

“Uhm,” the man begins before mouthing a few words. “Contenu de cette…”

“I speak English,” you offer with a smile. “It’s a purse, gift for a friend.”

He nods and returns the box to your suitcase before he leans forward to zip it. “You’re free to go. Welcome to Los Angeles.”

“Thank you.”

As you pull your suitcases through Los Angeles International Airport, you smile. Your excitement to surprise Lucy increases as you near her police station, hoping to brighten her day.

“You’re  looking for Chen?” someone asks.

You look up from your phone and across the police station lobby. The officer is handsome - stern but attractive, which tells you he’s…

“Officer Bradford, I presume,” you reply as you stand. “I am. I understand if she’s busy, though. I can surprise her later.”

“Surprise? Oh, you’re the friend that lives in France.”

Your eyes widen in surprise that he’d remember that. When you nod, he turns and walks away. Left to stare after him, you shrug and pick up your bag. You have Lucy’s address, so you’ll wait for her at her apartment.

“Yes, sir,” Lucy says.

You stop and watch the doorway where Tim went, and when Lucy steps through, she freezes.

“No more French countryside in the background, as requested,” you joke.

Lucy gasps as she runs toward you, and you’re wrapped in a signature Lucy hug. You tighten your arms around her as she whispers how much she missed you.

“Napa’s not close enough to the French riviera for you, Chen?” Tim asks as she steps out of your arms.

“Oh,” you tut, shaking your head at him. “There’s no comparison, mon chéri.”

Tim’s lips quirk up as he tilts his head to the side. You ignore Lucy’s questioning look or her growing smile following your pet name.

“I know you’re at work,” you tell Lucy, “but I just had to let you know I was here.”

“Thank you! I’ll give you a key to my apartment and you can stay with me, okay?”

“Lucy, I can’t impose-“

“Forget I asked, I’ll get the key.”

Lucy rushes away before you can argue further, and you’re left alone with Tim again.

“Thank you for letting me see her,” you say. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I just didn’t want to hear her complain about missing you for another hour of patrol.”

You smile and agree, “Sure.”

“Uh, so, how long are you in town?”

“I’m not sure yet,” you answer with a shrug. “I came in on a one-way ticket.”

Tim nods, his fingers fidgeting along his belt. “Chen’s taking a while.”

“She is.”

After an awkward pause, Tim sighs and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“Yes?” you encourage.

“If you need anything while you’re here, I could- could help you out. If you want.”

“And how would I be able to ask for your help?”

“I could give you my number.”

“What would Lucy think?” you ask quietly, smiling so Tim knows you aren’t saying no.

“Probably a lot.”

You laugh as you pass your unlocked phone to Tim. He types his information in quickly, then sends himself a text before he returns your phone, his fingers brushing yours.

“Here you go!” Lucy announces as she returns. “Make yourself at home, and I’ll be back around 7, after my shift ends.”

“Merci, amie.”

As you hug Lucy, you wink at Tim over her shoulder. A trip to Los Angeles was the right choice for more reasons than you thought.

“What’s mon chéri mean?” Tim asks as he and Lucy leave the station after their shift.

“I think that’s a question for the one who called you that, Tim,” Lucy replies. “Maybe you should take her out to dinner and ask all about it.”

“But we-“

“You’re terrible at hiding your vast emotional range, Tim. Call her.”

The next night, you meet Tim outside a restaurant of his choosing. After you gifted Lucy the YSL bag and a vintage band t-shirt, she repaid your kindness by letting you borrow a dress and helping you prepare for your date with Tim Bradford. Now, you laugh to yourself as Tim walks to greet you.

“Petit Trois,” you murmur. “You do know that taking a French girl to an American French restaurant is probably a terrible idea, right?”

“Probably. But the chef is French, and you’re the only person I know that can tell me if this is authentic cuisine,” Tim answers. “Unless you’re in the mood for American, in which case, there’s a McDonald’s down the street.”

“No, let’s try little three. If they don’t have éclairs au chocolate, though, you owe me a Frosty.”

Tim offers his arm, and you loop your arm through his as he leads you inside. The conversation comes easily, and between Tim, Lucy, and all of the good memories you have here, you’re beginning to wonder if you even want to return to France anytime soon.

“You met Lucy when you were kids?” Tim inquires after you order.

“I did. My dad’s American, and we spent summers in California when I was young. Lucy was the best friend I ever had, and we stayed close. Even after I moved back to France full-time.”

“What’s your favorite thing about France? Besides the pastries, of course.”

“The scenery, the slow and easy pace. It’s so different from America, but it’s beautiful.”

“It sounds amazing.”

“What about you? What makes California home?”

“The Dodgers.” You shake your head, and Tim offers, “Everything I love is here. It’s all I’ve ever known, and I feel most like me in Los Angeles, I guess.”

“That’s beautiful, mon chéri.”

Tim still doesn’t know what it means exactly, but he falls for you when you take his hand and call him yours. Everything that you love about France, what makes it beautiful and special to you, he sees it in you: your beauty, kindness, and grace. Lucy seemed to think something would happen between you and Tim, and, for once, he wouldn’t mind if she was right.

A week after arriving in Los Angeles, you’ve settled into Lucy’s guest room and have made no plans to leave. You’ve gone out with Tim, caught up with Lucy, and remembered why you loved summers in Los Angeles.

“Lucy,” you begin as you bake macarons together. “Can I ask you something?”

“About Tim?” she guesses.

“Not just Tim. I… I’ve been thinking a lot and I’m not sure I want to go back to France. Not for a while, at least.”

“Are you serious?” Lucy asks excitedly, dropping her spoon onto the counter. “Don’t say stuff like that if you don’t mean it.”

“So, you’d be okay with it? Me staying? I could get my own place or pay rent, whatever, but…”

“Of course, I’d love to have you here!”

“Do you think Tim will want to keep seeing me if I stay?” you ask softly.

Lucy lays her hands on your shoulders and smiles. “Tim feels exactly the same. He wants you to stay because he likes spend time with you. Maybe even more than that.”

“But, he-“

“No,” Lucy interrupts. “Trust me on this. You have to follow your heart. You taught me that when we were kids, remember? My heart couldn’t buy me a plane to France, but it was still good advice.”

You nod and lean forward to hug Lucy. “Merci,” you say against her shoulder. “I’ll follow my heart.”

Lucy pushes you back and points to the door. “Do it now.”

“The macarons,” you argue.

“I can finish them!” she replies. Then, she purses her lips and admits, “I can do my best.”

You assure her they’ll be perfect before you grab your bag and rush out the door. Your outfit feels incomplete without the jacket you like to wear over your tied shirt, but it’s the least of your concerns as you follow your heart straight to Tim Bradford.

“Hey,” he greets as he opens the door. “Did we have plans? I was just-“

“Je t’aime,” you interrupt breathlessly. “I love you, Tim. And I’m staying in the States because all that my heart wants is here.”

“Don’t stay just for me or Lucy, okay?” he says, stepping toward you. “Whatever you want-“

“It’s all here. I want to stay.”

Tim smiles and says, “Well, with all this time, maybe you can teach me how to make your first love.”

“Éclairs au chocolat?” you fill in. “Anytime, mon amour.”

“What are you calling me?” he inquires.

You lay your hand against his cheek and promise, “We’ve got time for you to learn.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, violence, abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: I am tireddddd.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Professor Smith dresses you in a set of pajamas; white with blue stripes. They’re not your size, you assume they might be his. You’re not sure. You’re too woozy to think about much more than your throbbing hand. 

He lays you in the hotel bed as you shake uncontrollably. You’re freezing cold but he keeps touching your forehead and saying you’re burning up. How can that be when you can’t get warm? 

Your lashes flutter between glimpses of him pacing and sitting on the edge of the bed. When all is dark, you see his shadow beside you. His breathing suggests he’s asleep but you can’t tell. He’s up again as a halo of light shines around you. The lamp limns his figure as he pets your cheek. 

“Sweetheart, shh, you’re alright,” he coos, “no need to cry.” 

You’re crying? Why? You can’t remember. Your mind is a bubble of fractured thoughts and vague scenes. You can’t make scene of much between the visions of this man. 

“Fever’s broke,” he lays a wet cloth over your brow. “Very good. We’ll be off in the morning, won’t we?” 

“Mom?” You murmur in confusion. 

“Mm, let’s take one step at a time before all that, yes?” He caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Back to sleep.” 

He shuts off the light and you’re cast into grim blackness. His weight jostles the bed and you feel him spread out next to you. The bed is more than large enough for you both. 

“Professor,” you croak weakly. “What’s...” 

“In the morning,” he girds. 

You accept it, “sorry.” 

“Never be sorry,” he reaches over to squeeze your arm lightly.  

You lay in silence. Your eyes close on their own. You are completely drained. You sink down into a solid void that suffocates away all light and life. When you awake again, you’re alone. You might think it was all a dream if it wasn’t for the bright hotel walls. 

You remain as you are. You don’t have the energy to get up. You lift your hand and look at the bandage wrapped around it. It feels better and your fingers aren’t swollen. You bend them. It still hurts. 

The door opens and you drop your arm. You squeak at the pain. 

“Sweetheart, is all well?” Raymond rushes over, a tray in his hand. “I was only meaning to fetch some of the complimentary breakfast before we depart.” 

You blink and shake your head, “fine. I’m... fine.” 

“I hope you like coffee--” 

“Coffee?” You whimper and close your eyes. “Coffee...” you mutter. “I went to get coffee and...” 

“Yes, that fiend meant to attack you. You see, I did not come without purpose. How could I sit back and see you neglected?” 

“You don’t... I don’t know... you.” 

“Hush, hush, you must be hungry,” he insists. “It is good to eat. You are weak from the infection still. You must take care--” 

“My mom--” you look at him. 

He sucks in air and his jaw tenses. He steels himself and his fingers twitch. “Yes, a woman who allows her own daughter be abused.” 

“She... she couldn’t stop him--” 

“She should not bring the beast home with her,” he snips. “Please, you would not survive in such an environment.” 

“Why... would you come here?” 

He exhales and his eye bats, as if he can’t control it. “Why wouldn’t I after what I witnessed? Then you would not answer. I had half a suspicion you were dead.” 

“I’m sorry, I... didn’t mean to worry you but... it’s not your problem.” 

He hums and set the tray on the night stand. He offers a cup of coffee, “are you so used to being forgotten that you cannot accept kindness?” 

“No, it isn’t... I’m sorry.” 

“And the apologies. No need for it. I am not admonishing you. I am merely offering advice.” He takes your good hand and makes you take the cup. “There is much more you need to learn than accounting, I gather.” 

You frown and look at the dark coffee. 

“If you prefer milk or sugar, I grabbed some of each,” he explains and gestures to the tray. “Of course, you shouldn’t drink that in bed else you might stain the sheets.” 

“Oh, yeah,” you push the blankets back and move carefully. 

The pajamas brush against your stomach and you look down. You’re reminded of the day before. Naked in the tub. In front of him. You’ve never been so exposed before. You slump your shoulders and go to the table and sit. 

You look down at your burnt hand and bring up to examine the bandage again, “thank you...” you raise it higher. 

“Certainly. And who wouldn’t see to the festering infection? Are you not concerned that not even your own mother cared for that matter?” 

“Can we not talk about her?” You sniffle and rest your hand in your lap. “You should take me home.” 

“Home? That is no home. Now, you should eat. Keep your strength up so you can heal properly.” He girds. 

You nod and take a cautious sip of coffee. You’re still reeling, maybe even slightly delirious. You set the cup down again and lift your chin. You look at his neck, not his face. 

“Why?” You ask. 

“Why...” He echoes as he sits across from you. 

“Why help me?” 

He takes a packet of sanitizing wipes and uses them to clean the cutlery. You watch his diligent work. Everything he does is precise and purposeful. And cleanly. He seems to detest the thought of dirtiness and yet you can only feel like filth next to him. 

“Well, it should be a question, should it? It is humane. Decent. So, I shouldn’t need to name the reason for it.” He lays down each piece before he sets to claiming a muffin, then a scoop of the scrambled eggs, and strips of bacon with sausage too. “Though if you insist, I will give one. Firstly, let us underline that point. What you need, what you want, I would be more than willing to supply, but then, circle around to your query; why should I help you?” 

He takes the rest of the cutlery and wipes it then hands it to you. He makes you up a plate as he continues, “you, sweetheart, have great potential. I’ve seen it. And that would be spoiled all for a poor foundation. Now that is not your own doing, mind you, you cannot help where you come from, and more admirably,” he sets the plate before you, “you were fighting against it and so I only thought to lower the ladder for you.” 

You blink and focus on the food. You’re not very hungry. You feel slightly queasy but you would hate to be ungrateful. All these questions already make you feel so.  

“Thank you,” you croak and make yourself look at him. “Really...” 

You don’t know how to say it. You already feel pathetic and you don’t need to sink further. No one’s ever been that concerned about you. No one ever tried to help you. Most people just laughed, called you names, or pushed you down themselves. 

“Please, don’t trouble yourself very much, eh? I have the means to help. It would be selfish not to. A sort of passing the torch. I wasn’t born to wealth myself, or peace. Life can be a war on its own,” he gives a gentle smile beneath his thick beard. “Oh, and I did take some clothing from your home before our flight. I was able to use the hotel laundry. It should suffice, though I hardly trust their cleaning staff.” 

“Yes, sir,” you answer. 

“Raymond, please,” he corrects you. 

📓

Professor Smith, or Raymond as he insists, drives you across the city. He turns in the car at the rental place then leads you into the train station a block away. He’s patient, not hurrying you, and he pays for your ticket and his. You feel guilty for the expense. 

As you sit and wait on the platform, you fidget. You chew your lip and curl your fingers, the burn stinging beneath the bandages. 

“Are you well?” He checks in. He does every now and then. 

“Um, yes...” you look at the tracks, “I’ve never been on a train.” 

“A first, very exciting,” he muses. 

You nod and let your eyes wander. You’re nervous but too much to ask what makes you so. He moves so his leg is against yours. 

“Your hand?” He prompts. 

“It’s feeling better,” you assure.” 

“Very well.” He sits back and puffs out through his nose, “we will go to my home. You can recover there and when you feel up to it, we will go over your last assignment and see you through the course--” 

“Professor-- Raymond,” you sputter as you face him. “You don’t have to do all this.” 

“I am not a man who does things he doesn’t wish to,” he replies. “I’ve explained myself enough. It is unacceptable to me to let you return to where I found you. I couldn’t allow you in such an unsafe circumstance. Especially after what I witnessed.” 

“It-- he just yelled, that’s all.” You murmur. 

“Is that all? He had nothing to do with this?” He points to your hand. 

You shrink and shake your head. He clucks. 

“You are honest and so you are a poor liar. What I saw was more than yelling, sweetheart. You will not convince me otherwise. I know, this is a peculiar situation, but it is your way out,” he says, “tell me, you never thought of it.” 

Your lack of response is enough of one. Your eyes are hot, and your mouth is dry. Your leg jiggles restlessly. 

A lull rises as the chatter of others rolls through the platform. Soon, you hear the whine of metal on metal, and a bright beam shines from the tunnel. The train speeds through and grinds to a stop.  

You follow Raymond’s every move. When he stands, you stand. As he grabs his bag, you go to do the same but he has it in hand first. He gestures you ahead of him. You reluctantly approach the train. 

“The second from the front,” he instructs from behind. “I’ve our tickets.” 

You follow his direction. You’re good at that. As a professor, he’s just as good at giving orders. As you approach the waiting attendant, he reaches around to hand over the tickets. The woman in her uniform tears of the ends and hands them back. 

You step onto the small metal footstool and then climb the stairs of the train car. You pause as he puts your bags into the netted caddy near the front. He urges you on with another point and recites the seat numbers. You find them and stare at the row. 

“Would you like window or aisle?” He tucks away the tickets. 

“Mm, what do you like?” You ask. 

“Please, have the window. You did say it’s your first,” he insists. 

You duck your head and sit. He lowers himself next to you and slips a bottle from inside his jacket. He pops the cap open and offers it quietly. You glance over at the sanitizer. You don’t want to be rude so you put your unbandaged hand out. He dollops it into your palm, then his own, and puts it away. 

He rubs his palms together and you sanitize around your bandage and your uninjured hand. You sit back and look out at the platform. He’s a very stringent man but you might only think so because you’re used to no rules at all. He’s thorough too. He seems to think of everything.  

You look at him but think better of asking what you want to. He catches your glance before you can turn back. He shifts toward you, leaning on the outer armrest. 

“Go on,” he urges, “you can say whatever you need.” 

“Sorry, it’s nothing.” 

“Please,” he opens his hand encouragingly. 

You drop your eyes and wet your lips. You’re going to sound so dumb. “Do you really think I could... I could do something? Like you? Like... like... accounting?” 

He chuckles softly. It’s not mocking or mean. It’s soothing. 

“I do believe so,” he says. “You needn’t fret. Let yourself time to heal, then all that will come after.” 

You sniff and sit back. You don’t know if you agree with him, but you’ll try. That’s all you can do. It’s what you should do after he’s gone to all this effort. 

[barrenclan]

HI i just finished reading the comic and it's so so incredible!!!! your art is gorgeous and your work with the story is completely unmatched <3

I've been listening to the song Butcher Vanity by Vane Lily a lot and it strikes me as a Deepdark song!

Thank you! I'm so glad you like the comic. I agree, Deepdark's desire to kill and eat and never stop consuming is what defines him. I'll use the chance to share a PMV by my pal Katti, the creator of The Exiled comic who made a really excellent PMV with the song :)

I think someone else had the same idea as well, it looks like it's already been suggested before :) but yes it does fit very well! Any song about a land/town/etc that's been cursed and rotten forever works great.

Tell me now of the very soul that look alike, look alike Do you know the stranglehold covering their eyes? If I call on every soul in the land, on the moon Tell me if I'll ever know a blessing in disguise

The curse ruled from the underground, down by the shore And their hope grew with a hunger to live unlike before

I never knew this song was from the Justice League movie?? Wow, that's wild. It is a good song for PATFW as a whole.

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed Everybody knows the war is over Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixed The poor stay poor, the rich get rich That's how it goes Everybody knows

I have! In fact, the song "Hellfire" is the character theme song for Cootstorm. I made a drawing of it awhile ago.

Did you know that in fact someone made an animated video with Rainhaze to this very song? It's really cool, you should check it out!

Yeah, it's pretty Rainhaze! Especially in his post-Asphodelpaw murder manic phase.

If you knew what I knew, if you saw what I see You’d look through illusions, hallucinations, and lucid dream And I know that meaning can be such a pretty thing to keep But I got facts and I’m not afraid to use ‘em, take the good with the bad, take off the back you make a new front Some days I'm glad that I am a madman and I’d rather be that than An amicable animal, mild-mannered cannibal

Aww wait :(

Looks like the cat did a number on you Vienna, oh He took a brick off the side of the stoop Poor vienna It'll be over soon Your mamas waiting for ya But you're not coming home

Your mamas been so worried Cause you never came home Beneath the ground you're buried In memoriam

Yes I think it could be! Even more, I think it's exemplary of Deepdark's general charisma and desire to recruit people into Defiance, reminiscent of his speech from Issue 28.

You and me should go outside And beat 'em, beat 'em, beat 'em, beat 'em, beat 'em All pathetic flag waving ignorant geeks And we'll eat 'em, eat 'em, eat 'em, eat 'em, eat 'em

Come join the cause, come join the cause Who wants to come with me and come join the cause? Hide in the sky, hide in the sky Who wants to come with me and hide in the sky?

Oh, my mom loves this album, I grew up listening to it. This does remind me a bit of them, how sweet and sad.

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes Let them know you realize that life goes fast It's hard to make the good things last You realize the sun doesn't go down It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

Do you realize That you have the most beautiful face? Do you realize?

What a unique take on their relationship! I do like the theme of Ranger guiding Rainhaze's hand, and the parent-child energy is very interesting for them. Interesting take on Mordred, for that matter.

Guileless Son, I'll shape your belief And you'll always know that your father's a thief And you won't understand the cause of your grief But you'll always follow the voices beneath

Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty Loyalty only to me

[preppyacademy]

From a meaningless virtual life to the preppy boy I am now

Elliot's story

To convince you to come to the Preppy Academy, here's Elliot's personal testimonial. His life has changed radically thanks to our school's methods. The following are his words: 

Hello, my name is Elliot, I'm 20. I'm a student at the Preppy Academy. I'd like to thank M.Gilliard, our principal, who has asked me to write an account of my time here. 

Two years ago, I was still living with my father. I often dressed in sportswear; I loved Adidas clothes, so comfortable and easy to put on. Did I do any sport? No, not at all, but my mates dressed the same, so I followed suit. When I wasn't at school, I used to play video games all the time. I wore my clothes for days on end because I was too lazy to change. My bedroom was a real dump, with everything strewn all over the place. My diet consisted of eating chips and drinking sodas. 

My father was fed up with my bad behavior. He works in business, economics, something like that. My mother left us when I was a kid, and since then it's just been me and him. He'd tell me to “tidy my room”, “get dressed properly”. But I didn't give a damn, soon, I thought, I'll be able to leave soon, and I thought I'd be able to live with a friend in a flat-share for a bit of fun. 

There was a week when I made a decision that I had regretted at the time but that now makes me what I am. That week, it was at the beginning of my school year and I was playing a game that was too epic and I wanted to do it too much, so I made my dad think I was going to high school while I was pretending. Then, when he left for work, I'd come back and play on my P.S. console. But my stupidity caught up with me, and my father was contacted by the school and told of my repeated absences. It was a Thursday lunchtime, I remember, and he came home to find me quietly in bed. He came into my dirty room and said: 

" Elliot, that's enough! You're not going to school anymore, you're dressing like crap. Look at you, you've got holes in your clothes. You haven't washed or combed your hair in days. Things are going to change for you. A colleague at work told me about a boarding school that would be perfect for you. "

I was on my phone when he said this so I half-listened, as usual. He was clearly desperate about my behavior and had every reason to be. Now I understand. At the end of the afternoon, my father called me and reminded me that he had to take me to the dentist for an annual check-up. I'd completely forgotten, it wasn't something I was interested in remembering. I stayed in the same clothes and he took me to the dentist. I really didn't remember the appointment. Once there, my father accompanied me inside. A waiting room with other parents and their teenagers. There were guys from high school, who were also dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirts and sneakers. I wasn't the only one who dressed like that, which is why it seemed normal to do so. When it was my turn, the dentist called me in. I sat down in his dentist's chair. He asked me to lie down so he could check the inside of my mouth. He put some products in my mouth to relax it. And these products were starting to put me to sleep; he'd put in more than usual. 

I had fallen asleep on his armchair, I didn't know for how long. When I woke up, my hands were tied tightly to the chair. I tried to speak, but my mouth was still anesthetized. My father was talking to the dentist, and they were both looking at me. My father had collected my things, my bag and my phone. Looking around, I soon realized that I wasn't really at the dentist. The man posing as one approached me and said: 

"Elliot, your father, has informed us of your behavior at home and has decided to leave you with us for a while. Do you agree? "

I couldn't answer as my mouth was still anesthetized. 

" Since you're not answering my question, I imagine you're completely in agreement. If you don't say anything within a minute, we'll assume you agree."

I was trying to speak to refuse and scream for help, but only discreet moans came out. 

" Then we do have your agreement. "

My eyes began to tire again and I finally dozed off again.

I don't know what treatment he gave me, but it was like a dissociation. I saw myself outside my body like a ghost looking at my body. My father left with my things. The staff laid me properly on the bed and undressed me. I was completely naked at one point. They put a red ball in my mouth and covered my mouth with a gag that held with a tight strap behind it. I was as if unable to act, in the hands of my kidnappers. They dressed me in a white short-sleeved polo shirt, buttoned all the way up, tucked into khaki shorts with a brown belt, white knee-high socks and black loafers. They then cut my hair and styled it, neatly styled to the side and held with wax. I began to regain consciousness little by little, but I felt as if I were paralyzed in my own body, between the products that were still taking effect and the bonds that prevented me from fleeing. 

"Elliot, you're back with us. We've prepared you in a more respectable outfit than the garbage you used to wear. This preppy outfit suits you much better. Your hair looks much better like this. You probably have a lot of questions, but you're in good hands. I'm Doctor Greenwood, I'm here when sometimes you need a little push to get you into the Academy. I'll leave you here tonight and you'll make your official entrance tomorrow. "

I was stuck on this bed for several hours, and above me they'd set up a screen with a series of images and sounds that I had no choice but to watch. And no matter how tempted I was to close my eyes, a deep voice kept reading every word on the moving image. Eventually, I fell asleep to the rhythm of the video, which hypnotized me as it went along. 

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy” again and again and again...

This mantra was stuck in my head like music that never wants to come out. I still felt resistance, an urge to rebel and run away, but I was blocked and strangely began to feel pleasure at the idea of being a good preppy boy. 

When I woke up, four men in their thirties, all dressed in pastel shirts tucked into their pants, with bowties and loafers, took me by force. They took me by the arms and forced me to follow them. They put me in a van and tied me up. My gag was still in my mouth and I couldn't scream. I was at their mercy, with no power or control over the situation. I was their object. 

I was taken to a large, ivy-league type establishment, at the top of the main entrance is written “Preppy Academy”. I was led inside and up the stairs. I arrive in a very elegant office, with wood paneling and bookcases on every wall. The 4 men undress me.

I find myself in a preppy outfit: a white and blue striped OCBD shirt, pastel yellow shorts, red and blue suspenders, a dark blue and red striped tie tied around my neck, long white knee-high socks and dark loafers. Nothing to do with my outfits at home. I've been completely transformed into a preppy boy. I'm left with my hands tied and my mouth gagged in this office. I don't know what to do, I'm a slave to this establishment. My outfit isn't as comfortable as the one at home, I can feel the fabric of my shirt on my torso compressing me, the suspenders holding my shorts are like two ropes binding my outfit to my body, the pulled-up socks are so humiliating, I feel like a boy. But as I think I'm disgusted by my outfit, I realize that it actually turns me on. I like to think I have to be dressed like this to feel good. A few minutes later, a man in his fifties walks in. He's dressed in a nice three-piece suit, with a red tie. He looks at me deeply: 

"Hello Elliot! Welcome to the Preppy Academy. Your father told me you weren't behaving properly at home. He contacted us and paid for your enrollment. Whether you like it or not, you're staying here. You'll wake up here and sleep here. Your education needs to be reviewed. You must learn to be a good preppy boy for your superiors. I am M.Gilliard, the principal of this prestigious establishment. I am the Master of all the students here. You owe me obedience, submission, service and respect. "

These words enchanted me, and even though I wanted to leave, I could only nod in agreement. 

"To complete your admission among us, I must collect something. "

The 4 young men from earlier return and make me sit down on the chair, holding me tight. Mr. Gilliard unzips my pants and pulls out my penis. I start moaning, not agreeing with what's happening. Mr.Gilliard puts a sort of cage on my penis, forcing it to stay very small and any erection would hurt. 

" It's called a chastity cage. I'm the only one who keeps the keys. Every good boy here is caged. Your personal pleasure doesn't matter; you're here to obey and learn to serve. Your only satisfaction at the end of the day is to please men superior to you. "

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy”. This phrase made more and more sense. I was introduced to the establishment, the rules to follow and taken to a room I had to share, with a wardrobe full of preppy clothes, nothing I'd had before. 

I've been here for two years now and I don't want to leave. I like to serve my Master when he asks for it. I like being a good preppy boy. Obedient and helpful. I don't miss my old life anymore. I encourage all boys and men to come to the Preppy Academy. You'll love it! 

[gloveslut]

oda died. chuuya has no idea.

babe, i'm back. ... hey, what's going on?

i'm leaving.

you're what? 'samu, did something happen?

stop fucking using that tone. or my name.

what the fuck? can you explain?

explain what?

everything?!

you knew it was only a matter of time. i don't know why you act surprised.

you don't wanna talk about it?

no.

...where to?

none of your business.

but osa- listen, you swore you wouldn't- ever-

i didn't swear shit to mafia.

...fuck no. that's not how you talk to me, you fucking piece of shit.

get off of me.

you're leaving me too! you swore shit to me!

you're nothing more than one of my mistakes.

i know you're lying, fuck, what's gotten into you?

i'm not lying, i can't bear even looking at you now.

but why? dazai, it's unfair to-

oh, and you're always fair to me? i know you're seeing someone else.

...who? tell me who told you that and i'll rip them apart, because it's fucking bullshit.

you're bullshit. all of you. it's your nature. quit playing the victim.

this is ridiculous-

and what are you gonna do about it? beg for me to stay? again? aren't you tired?

you know what? i am. because saying shit like that out of blue is too low, even for you.

i need to pack my things, get out of my-

who's blood is that? the hell is-

mine! it's mine cause i felt uneasy! stop sniffing around, you're not helping!

this doesn't look like- like- you know, there's too much of it, dazai, i don't understand-

you don't need to understand, chuuya, please, stop trying to get closer. you're not special. i'm not gonna take you with me so we can run off into the sunset.

but you can't do it completely on your own, god, are you even here with me?

i'm the one thinking critically right now. i can get killed otherwise, and i'm not gonna be alone.

...you can't just throw it at me like that. can i at least know when it started?

when what started?

well, your falling out? i guess i should've seen it coming with the way you hated introducing me to literally anyone.

i'm not here to fight about it with you.

but you accused me of cheating first thing i came in, idiot!-

i'm not- i was talking about him.

who? ...odasaku? ... fuck, i'm sorry for assuming- whatever, you do realise he's not gonna be here for you forever?

...chuuya, please.

i'm not trying to scare you off and obviously i'm not any better but-

please stop. some... people were here, but they left, and it's not so bad. it's gonna be fine and we're gonna find the best place to hide, i don't care what you think of it, we're gonna be- fine-

honey... i didn't mean to make it worse, it's o-

no it's not! you know nothing about me or my friends, i'm begging you- just- fuck off-

i know it's hard and-

don't touch me! ... god, just go away.

...so you mean it.

yes. i fucking do. now leave. you can get suicidal and stick around this burnt house as long as you want later.

...fuck you. i can't stand you anymore.

oh yeah? news to me.

yeah, cause i fucking loved you! i put everything i had eating me from inside away and stayed with you up untill this point. i made my whole life evolve around you. jesus, i even grew my hair for you!

uh-huh.

and guess what! i never fucking liked it this way. i barely got anything out of whatever we had going on. you didn't even wanna give it a name. cause i'd eat it up. and i did.

right.

fuck, dazai, can't you have a heart for a minute?

yeah no, not around someone who thinks of me as crazy, but thanks.

i don't- what the fuck are you talking about?

all the... nice treatment you gave me was always based purely on the fact that i'm fucking broken and that you should fix me. not only it's incredibly fucked up, you also just can't. you always play god here and there but you don't carry the power of one, not even close.

now, i didn't even-

chuuya, please. i'm asking kindly. i can easily get it over with, but i don't think it'd be either rational or pleasant for you.

...just like this?

yeah. just like this. if you can't accept that you're not needed, then you earn all the hostility. i'm done with all this shit. let us both finally have peace. ... that look doesn't exactly evoke peaceful feelings in me.

i... i have so much to say, to- to ask before- and there's not enough time- huh, it seems like it's never the time. i don't know if i should waste my chance, though.

i mean, if you realise how useless all of our conversations ever were...

...

woah. okay. ... one last question.

if you promise to never talk to me again, go on.

...did you- it's hard not to- ...well, i know someone died. i just have to know, are you the cause?

yes and no. unfortunately, i didn't get to kill anyone this time. but i'm also at fault. great one. i'm at hurry. so may i be excused? ... you better not show up in my life later on. not necessarily because you're so distractive, it's just the way it- it has to be. have fun around here, but be cautious. you never know where your line's gonna end. or when you're gonna lose someone. i guess it would be even more heartbreaking to you, 'normal people'.

wait, are you saying-

i thought you stopped bothering me. ...nevermind. do whatever you want.

i can't believe you're doing this to me.

please, move.

dazai- baby, i was only trying to-

now, you shut it and let me go or i'll slit your throat with this shiny thing. ... cool. oh, and... your letters or anything like that will never reach me. we have nothing to discuss. nothing that is worth the effort. i also think you said everything you wanted to. ...thank you- for, uh, not whining too much. see you in hell.

[just-a-ghost00]

You got mail 💌

Let’s find out what the person on your mind has to say to you. Pick one of the following emojis and discover your reading.

🌍 🩵 🌄 🤠

Group 1 🌍

I may not show it to you but I am really happy we met. Everyday with you feels like a new adventure. Though we are worlds apart and so different from each other, I really feel like we match perfectly. You make me feel like I belong. Every moment spent with you is so much fun. It makes me want to jump forward and explore. You are so sweet and generous, so playful that I can’t help but to play along. I feel so lucky being with you. There is so much I want to do with you. I want to hang out with you and get to know you more. Maybe we could have a couple drinks, play in a park, have a little date by the river… if you wish. I feel so boring compared to you. With me, everything is always black and white. But you, my love, are so colorful and bright. I wish we were a family. I wish I could wake up in the morning to find you sitting at the table, eating breakfast with a smile on your face. I wish I could share with you my favorite spots and take you to every place I get to see. I wish I could find a way to express all that you mean to me. I tend to see the glass half empty. But when I’m with you I want to believe everything is possible. You have filled my cup with your love and I am so thankful for that. I can’t find the words to tell you how much I owe to you. You’ve made me a better person and I feel like I could never return the favor.

Group 2 🩵

I may look like all is well and fine but to tell you the truth I feel hollow. And I could use some fun. I always seem so busy, always the life of the party, making everybody laugh and ensuring they have a good time. But deep inside, it’s getting tough. As the days go by, I feel my energy depleting and my motivation as well. I don’t even know why I do this anymore. I force myself for the sake of keeping appearances but honestly I’m not sure I like it at all. I’m afraid that if you dig deep enough, you wouldn’t like what you find there. I am much more fragile than I seem. Also much more mellow and soft when I get the chance. But lately I’m more of a zombie than anything. I don’t think I could bring you much joy nor comfort. I’m afraid I’ve turned bitter. It’s all about work and making sure the money gets in and less about enjoying what I’m doing. I need to pay the bills. There’s competition around. I can’t afford to lose. Everyone’s counting on me. People look up to me. I sacrificed a lot to get there. I can’t back down now. Who would I be if I did? I can’t disappoint. It’s all a masquerade but it’s for a cause. It might not look great to you but it means a lot to me. So, sorry if I’m acting cold but… it’s all for you baby. Don’t go thinking I found someone better. Believe me I don’t have the time for that.

Group 3 🌄

Hold on a minute ! I know what you’re gonna think. What the heck is he/she saying? But hey, let me explain you’ll get it ! I may not be the strongest, the wisest or the most impressive of them all but one thing that’s sure about me is that I only have good intentions for you. I am ready to fight for you if that must be done. Thought I’m not good at that. Listen, my point is I really like you. I want to be with you, have fun with you, chat with you. I want us to take our time and get to know each other and hopefully to grow old together but that’s another story. With you I feel like a kid again. Sometimes, I gotta say, the feeling can be irritating. But at the same time it is freeing. I don’t have to chose a side. I don’t have to act a certain way to be accepted by you or understood. And that’s crazy! I’ve never experienced that before. Usually I would try to conform and play nice, show my best side and stick to the plan. But ever since I met you I want to free myself of those restraints. I want to find my home. I want to express my full potential without fearing being rejected or not belonging. I know you’ll never kick me out. Because you are the same aren’t you? The things I’ve seen, what I’ve been through, you’ve been there as well, right? I want to make a promise to you. Whatever comes our way, I swear I won’t run away. Even though it is scary and seems impossible, I will always work hard and do my best to make it. I may not be exactly your type or what you imagined a partner should be, but I am willing to learn. I am willing to tune to your melody and shelter whatever we may build together, not matter how unstable it may seem. I want you to feel comfortable with me. I want you to feel as safe with me as I feel with you. So if you’ll let me, let me fulfill that promise. You won’t regret it.

Group 4 🤠

To be honest, at first I didn’t get the best of vibes from you. I was a little intimidated and didn’t want to get to know you. Especially considering what people were saying about you. But I tried to see past your exterior and once I got to know you I found out that you were very chill. Maybe it was because I didn’t know you. Maybe I feared the unknown territory you represented. Maybe I was just afraid of going deep. But curiosity got the best of me. And luckily for both of us I stayed around long enough to make my own opinion. And I have to say that you are quite surprising. I won’t lie, being with you asks a lot of efforts on my part. But every second spent with you is worth it. In your presence, I feel comfortable. Being with you reminds me of my childhood. I think of my mother and my family, of the days we spent together before I moved away and followed the wind where it took me. Every page of our story takes me deeper within. I see sides of myself I never noticed or didn’t want to remember. I remember the innocent days where doing something new weren’t as terrifying and meeting new people sounded like a thrill. Being with you I feel blessed and content. There’s a light heartedness and a warmth in my heart I wouldn’t trade for anything. When I’m alone at home you’re all I think about. When I’m at work also. There isn’t a single moment when you’re not on my mind. When I’m with you I feel hopeful. I think that maybe life isn’t as tough as I thought it would be. That maybe there is more waiting for me. Please, show me more of your different sides. Tell me more about what makes you happy. Let me in and let me see for myself what you are made of. I’m begging you don’t shut me out. I want more of you.

[loveesiren]

Doing It All For Us (Pt. 8)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: (I apologize for the bad gifs, I'm reposting but I can't find the ones I used before 😭) Y/n gets the help she needs before her and Rafe start a new life together.

Warnings: Drugs, psychosis, mental health, self harm, and surprises, ya'll know me by now.

Word Count: 5.7k+

You moved your food around your plate as you listened to Topper, Rafe and Kelce discuss baseball. You couldn't be bothered to eat.

Rafe knew you were craving drugs. He knew you too well. You couldn't hide it from him. So, of course, he became annoyingly overprotective. He didn't leave you on your own for long.

You didn't want to be at the club right now. You hadn't showered in four days. You were still in the same old t-shirt you borrowed from Courtney. Your hair sat in a messy bun on your head and you had no make up on. Thank God you had at least drowned yourself in your Juicy perfume.

Rafe dragged you to the club, forcing you to eat and socialize. But you didn't even try. You sat there, obviously unhappy, just bringing everyone else down.

Rafe ran his fingers over your leg and smiled at you. You attempted to smile back but it was just pitiful. Topper and Kelce were staring at you with worried looks.

"Baby-"

"I'm gonna go smoke." You said, standing up and heading towards the door.

"Do you want me to-"

"No!"

You walked across the street from the club and sat in the grass. Lighting up an American Spirit, you laid back and watched the clouds move above you.

_

"What's going on with her, dude?" Topper asked Rafe.

Rafe was on the verge of tears but he held them back. "I-I don't know. I mean, a lot is going on but she won't talk to me. She just sits in silence and barely eats..."

"Maybe Courtney could get through to her?" Kelce asked.

Rafe shakes his head. "She tried. Court says she's gone through this before. Told me not to leave her alone for too long." He said as he looked out the window. He noticed you weren't where you had been moments ago. He stood up quickly and walked outside. "Y/N!" He yelled as he looked around for you. You were gone.

Rafe ran back inside, panicking. "She's gone!" He told Topper and Kelce.

"What?" Topper asked as he stood up, throwing some money on the table.

Rafe ran his shaking hands through his hair as his eyes began to swell with tears once again. "We gotta find her, man!"

The boys ran outside and piled into Rafe's truck.

-

You heard the sound of a bike approaching you but you didn't turn to look. You just kept walking lazily down the side of the road, dragging your cigarette every now and then.

"Hey, Princess!" You hear Barry say as he pulls up next to you. You sigh and turn to look at him. "Where's Prince Charming, huh? Lettin' you walk all alone out here. Never know who might swoop you up!" He laughs.

You just stare at him, too tired to say anything back. You can feel the bags under your eyes. Your face felt heavy and your body was weak from malnourishment.

"Shit..." He says as he examines you. "You look like you need a fix, am I right, Princess?"

You nod.

"Hop on," He says. He doesn't even offer you his helmet but you don't care. You climb on the back of his bike and wrap your arms around his waist. He drives off towards his house.

You know Barry was a bad guy. He'd probably want to take you back to his place, get you high, try to get in your pants. But you just didn't care anymore. The voices in your head were eating you alive.

Worthless. They don't really love you. Burden.

The words play over and over again in your head as you watch the trees pass by.

"Here we are," Barry says, helping you off the bike. "Come on, I'll fix you up."

You follow Barry inside. You scanned his house, noticing the few people that laid lazily on his couch, obviously doped out of their minds.

"You ever freebased?" Barry asks as he sits down at the kitchen table, sprinkling coke over a piece of foil.

"Yeah." Your voice was weak. You sat down across from him as you watched him prepare the foily.

He slides it over to you with a tooter and a lighter. You bring the tooter to your lips and light the bottom of the foil. You inhale the smoke slowly, feeling an instant buzz.

Barry smiles as he watches you. "Damn, you go harder than Country Club!" He laughs. "I ain't ever seen no Kook Queens up in the trap house smoking foilies!"

"I'm from LA," You tell him, feeling a little more talkative now that your buzz was hitting.

You hand him the paraphernalia. "That's all you, Princess. Go crazy." He said, waving you off.

You chuckle, bringing the tooter back to your lips to smoke more. After a bit, you were on Cloud 9.

People began drifting in and out of Barry's house. He'd sell them drugs, talk to some girls, then come back and sit with you, continuing to fix you up with the makeshift crack.

"You wanna shot, Princess?" Barry asks as he taps your arm with a bottle of whiskey.

You take it from him and quickly chug as much as you can before you get back to making your foily. You were really feeling it now. You hadn't been this high in a long time.

"Ayo, Y/N!" Barry says, snapping his fingers in your face.

You snap up to look at him. "What?"

"Chill, girl! Have another shot, you need to relax."

You eyed him for a moment as your nose twitched, but you took the bottle and chugged more.

"You really love that kid?" Barry asked you.

"What do you mean?"

"Rafe," He said. "You was bout ready to kill me for his ass!" Barry chuckled.

Rafe. Rafe. The love of your life. The only person that made you feel at home. You had left him at the club. You looked around now, realizing it was dark out and Barry's house was full of people getting high as fuck. Music was blasting way louder than you realized and you could feel your anxiety start to rise.

You snap out of your trance and look back to Barry. "Yeah. I do." You said confidently.

Barry smiles. "You know, for a Kook, you're not half bad. Country Club's a lucky man."

You look up at him with your devil eyes. The one's that came out after you'd drown yourself in substances. The eyes that showed who you truly were under your make up and jewelry. The psychopath.

Barry eyed you for a moment, looking almost scared. You offer him a small smile, hoping to convey that you were fine but knowing deep down you probably looked crazy.

Barry offered you a bill to snort one of the lines he just poured out. You accepted and leaned over the table, railing the white powder quickly.

"Well aren't you a sight," You hear a raspy voice say from behind you.

You turn around to see an older man, probably your dad's age. But he looked even older. Years of alcohol and drugs taking a toll on him.

You scrunch your nose up at him as he steps towards you and places a hand on your hip.

"Back up, Luke." Barry said, pushing him away from you.

"Ah, keepin' her all to yourself?"

"That's Cameron's girl." Barry states, keeping you behind him.

"Well I don't see that little shit around!" Luke laughs an intoxicated laugh.

You could feel anxiety rise in your chest. You didn't want to be here anymore. You wanted Rafe. You wanted to go home. You didn't want to be this fucking high anymore.

Barry turned around as he noticed you hyperventilating. "Ah, fuck." He said. He grabbed the whiskey off the table and put his arm around you. He pushed Luke out of the way as he lead you back to his bedroom.

You felt yourself pulled back as Luke grabbed your hand. "Get off me!" You yelp.

Barry turns around and punches Luke in the temple causing him to instantly fall to the ground. "Don't fucking touch her!" He turns and ushers you back to his bedroom.

You were a weeping mess now. Crying and hyperventilating. Barry closed the door behind him and you coward away from him, nervous he was going to do something.

He holds his hands up in defense. "Hey, Y/N, I'm not gonna hurt you okay?" He says. "Sit."

You sit down on the edge of his bed and pull your knees to your chest.

"Hear, drink this. It will calm you down."

You take the whiskey from his hand and chug. Too much crack. You were scared and paranoid. You didn't have your phone or anything. You were stuck in the middle of this party out in the Cut high off your ass and you hadn't talked to Rafe in hours.

"R-Rafe." You stutter.

"Hey, just relax, okay? I'mma call him right now."

You nod your head quickly, taking another swig from the bottle.

Barry paces his small room as he dials Rafe's number. Your eyes flicker back and forth as the voices in your head come back. You put your hands over your ears and shake your head, trying to get them to stop.

You're too high. You're going to die.

"Ayo, Rafe! You need to come get your girl, man!" Barry's voice echos in the background.

The voices became too much and you start screaming.

"Shit, shit! Yo, she's freaking out! Come get her!"

You were practically ripping your hair out.

"Y/N! Stop!" Barry yelled, grabbing your hands and keeping them by your sides.

You continued to thrash around on the bed, shaking your head back and forth violently. You let out another scream.

"Rafe's coming! He's on his way!" Barry yells at you.

You ease up slightly at the sound of Rafe's name but you were still terrified and you didn't know why.

"Listen to me, it's just the drugs okay? You smoked too much. You're okay. I promise." Barry said, trying to calm you down. "Look at me!"

You try to focus your eyes but you couldn't help but shake.

"You're good," Barry reassured you.

You nodded nervously. Barry let go of you and you remained somewhat still on the bed.

Fifteen minutes later, there was knocking on the door.

"Barry!" Rafe banged on the door. Barry opened it and Rafe, Courtney, Kelce, and Topper piled into the room.

"Y/N!" Rafe screamed as he ran to your shaking body on the bed.

"Take me home!" You cry as you throw your body around him. "I don't want to be here."

Rafe held you tighter than he ever had before.

"What the hell did you give her?!" Courtney yelled at Barry.

"Look, I'm sorry-" Courtney slapped him, cutting him off from his sentence.

Barry nodded, knowing he deserved it. "She freebased a bunch of coke, man. Just get her home."

Rafe wanted to strangle him, but you were more important. He had one arm around your waist and one cradling your head as he pushed past Barry and out to the living room.

"The Kooks are here!" People start saying as Rafe carried you through the sea of junkies that invaded the trailer.

"Fuck off!" You could hear Courtney, Topper, and Kelce telling people to back off. These weren't even Pogues. They were lower. This house was disgusting and you just wanted to leave.

You knew Rafe was probably furious with you. But he still came for you. You clung to him so tightly as you shook in his arms.

"I got you, baby." He said. His voice was so soft and it calmed you down. "Top, drive." Rafe said, throwing him the keys to the truck.

Rafe pulled you into the back seat with him, Courtney climbing in after.

Rafe placed you in his lap, he forced you to look at him. "Baby girl, you're safe, okay?"

All you could do was sob. Fear taking over your body. "The end," You spit out between sobs.

Rafe holds your face between his hands. "The end? What end, sweetheart?"

He'd never seen you cry so much. Your entire face was bright red and moist from tears. Everyone else in the car was silent as Topper drove.

"My end!" You sob loudly.

*insert my favorite gif i can't find*

Rafe is just staring at you with a puzzled look on his face, tears spilling from his eyes. "Baby, what are you talking about?!"

You quickly grabbed the door handle, swinging it open as you tried to jump out.

"Y/N!" Courtney yelled.

Rafe had his hands around your waist and Courtney grabbed your wrist pulling you back in.

Topper swerved at the sudden commotion but quickly regained control. "Dude, what the fuck!?" He yelled from the driver's seat.

You started screaming again and tugging at your hair again.

"What is wrong with her?!" Kelce yelled.

"Psychosis!" Courtney replied, pinning your hands down. She got on top of you, straddling your lap. "Rafe, hold her still!"

Rafe did as he was told, bawling his eyes out. He'd never seen anything like this in his life.

Courtney decked you as hard as she could in the side of the head and you went unconscious.

"What the fuck!" The boys yelled.

Courtney sat back, letting you rest in Rafe's lap. "Drive," She says.

The car ride was silent besides Rafe's sobs as he cradled your head.

When Topper pulled up to your house, Rafe carried you inside, immediately going to your room and tucking you into bed.

He sat and stared at you, his tears never letting up.

You stirred slightly but leaned deeper into your pillow.

"I need to talk to you," Courtney said from the door.

Rafe looked up to meet her gaze. He nodded. He looked back at you, placing a kiss on your forehead before joining Courtney in the hallway.

Courtney pulled Rafe down stairs to where Topper and Kelce were.

"What the hell is going on?" Kelce asks.

Courtney sighs. "Psychosis. She has episodes when she's really depressed."

———-

You tumbled out of bed and grabbed the knife from you bedside table. You crawled toward your bathroom and locked the door.

Rafe was surely mad at you for going to Barry's and getting fucked up. All your friends were probably about done with you. Your dad was gone. Fuck it right?

You took a small post it note from your counter and wrote out a few simple words. I love you, Rafe.

You stuck it to the counter and sat down.

They are better off without you. Kill yourself. Bleed.

The voices made you cry. You didn't want to leave Rafe but what if they were right? Maybe he was better off without you.

You put the knife to your wrist, tears falling down your cheeks. You force yourself to smile and slice the knife quickly across you skin, far too deep.

———-

"I'm gonna go check on her." Courtney said.

She had explained to the boys what exactly was happening to you. You were spiraling into a deep depression. But not like most people experience. Hallucinations, anxiety, the comatose states. It was taking over your body. You were in a very fragile state and the drugs didn't help.

"RAFE!" Courtney screamed.

Rafe got up immediately and ran upstairs, Topper and Kelce not far behind him.

"She locked herself in the bathroom!" Courtney cried.

Rafe didn't waste any time as he threw his shoulder into the door.

"Y/N!" He screamed, finally kicking the door in. He saw you motionless body on the floor, blood draining from your wrist.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO!" Rafe repeated as he ran to your side. "Call 911!" He screamed as he ripped his shirt off and wrapped it around your wrist.

Courtney was frozen, tears falling from her eyes as she watched you bleed out. She couldn't help but remember the time you'd tried to do the exact same thing in her bathroom at nine years old.

Kelce caught Courtney as she collapsed. Sobbing over the fact she could never make you happy enough to stay on this earth.

Topper was level headed. He called 911. He explained everything that happened.

Rafe was hysterical when the paramedics arrived. They had to pull him away from you.

He climbed into the ambulance with you. There was no way he wouldn't be with you this time.

"Stay with me, baby, please, please, stay with me. I love you so so much." Rafe said as he held your hand.

"You her boyfriend?" The paramedic asked.

Rafe nodded, keeping his eyes on you. "Why couldn't I help her?"

Rafe's eyes scanned your body. You were pale and thin. Your hair was matted and you had circles under your eyes. He couldn't help but blame himself for not taking care of you.

"It's not your fault, kid." The paramedic said.

Rafe pressed his lips to your frail hand, praying for the first time in his life. He asked whatever God was listening to help him build a life you would want to be a part of. He just wanted to know what to do. What he could do to make you happy.

Rafe sat and watched as they once again hooked you up to machines. His angel, his baby girl, his goddess. He would never understand why she wanted to destroy herself.

As frail as you were, you were still vibrant in his eyes. And maybe that's why he hated himself. He thought you were were perfect every time he laid eyes on you. He couldn't see your bones pertruding or your hair falling out of the loss of your voice. Any state you were in, he was completely in love with you.

————–

You opened your eyes, taking in the blinding white walls of the room around you. The fluorescent lighting burned your retina's as you reached up to shield yourself from them. That's when you noticed the pain in your left wrist.

"Ow, fuck!" You examined the white bandage that was wrapped around your forearm. A deep red leaking through the cloth. You furrowed your eyebrows at the sight. You don't remember what happened or how you got here but judging by the placements of your wound, you knew you had done it to yourself.

"Shiiiit," You mutter as you sit up and scan the room. There was a doorless bathroom in the corner, a small desk in the other. You were on a small twin sized mattress that lay atop a metal bed frame. The small window was covered in bars, letting in little sunlight. This wasn't the first time you'd been in a room like this.

"No, no, no, no..." You said as you got off the bed and rushed to the large metal door. You looked out the small window for any sign of someone. "Hey!" You start yelling, banging your fists against the door, completely ignoring the searing pain in your wrist. "Hey, let me the fuck out of here!" You continue banging and kicking the door until someone finally opens it.

You step back as you watch two people enter. One woman in a lab coat, dark hair pulled back, glasses, clutching a clip board. The other, a man, in blue scrubs.

"How are you feeling, Miss Y/L/N?" The lady asks.

"Why am I here?" You ask, staring angrily at her. "Where's Rafe?"

She takes a step forward and you take a step back. "You are here, Miss Y/L/N, because you experienced a deep state of psychosis and tried to take your own life."

Psychosis. You hadn't had an episode since you were a kid. It only ever happened when you got severely depressed.

"You also had a large amount of cocaine and alcohol in your system. You became a danger to yourself and others. After you were treated at the hospital," She motions to your wrist and you bring it behind your back, hiding it. "You were brought here for treatment.

You scoff. "I don't need treatment. I just had an episode. I need to go home. I need to see Rafe!"

"You have been placed on a mandatory 72 hour hold."

"How long have I been here?"

"Six hours."

"Fuck that! Let me out, I'm not fucking staying here!"

The larger nurse steps towards you.

"If you literally step any closer I will fight you!" You spit at him.

"Y/N, we need you to try to calm down. This stress isn't good for you or your child."

"What the fuck are you talking about?! I don't have-" You stop, swallowing your words.

"You are pregnant, Miss Y/L/N."

Your eyes fall to the floor as you try to take in the words you just heard. You slowly turn and walk back to the bed, sitting down calmly.

Pregnant. Pregnant. The word repeated itself in your mind.

"Are you okay?"

You scrunched your face and waved them off, laying down on the bed and pulling your knees to your chest.

"Visiting hours are four to six. Mr. Cameron will be waiting to see you."

You don't respond, burying your face into the pillow and letting the tears fall silently from your eyes.

____________

The clock struck four and you were already sitting up, waiting for nurse to come retrieve you. You'd been thinking for the last few hours about everything. Whether or not you were going to tell Rafe. You had no clue how Rafe was feeling. You'd just tried to end your life. You also got high as fuck. You wouldn't blame him if he wanted to leave you.

You traced the RC that was scarred in your skin and silently prayed he would forgive you. Your other hand traced your stomach. You didn't want to die. You wanted to be with Rafe. You wanted your baby. You wanted to be normal and be happy for your family.

You heard the door click open and you jumped. "You have a visitor," The nurse said, holding the door open so he could escort you to the visiting room.

You walked slowly, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. Courtney must have packed your bag. A few pairs of sweats, tank tops, and sweaters. All things the hospital would accept. She remembered what you could and couldn't have in here.

You enter the cafeteria, scanning the room and seeing people sitting with their loved ones. Your eyes landed on Rafe and you breathed a sigh of relief.

He looked up, eyes meeting yours. He slowly stood from his seat, scanning over your body as he tried to accept the fact you were in here.

You couldn't hold back the tears as you ran to him and jumped in his arms. You wrapped your arms around him tightly and you could feel him sniffling into your hair.

"Hey baby girl!" He mumbled, letting his own tears flow. He gripped you for dear life, as if he were to let go you'd simply evaporate.

"Rafe, I don't remember anything." You whisper.

You could feel Rafe try to control his breathing. He obviously remembers everything.

"Sit down, baby." He says, releasing his grip on you and helping your weak body into the chair. He sits next to you, taking your hands in his.

He choked back tears as he felt how frail you were.

The expression on his face broke your heart. Knowing it was your fault he was in so much pain. "Rafe....I'm so sorry..."

He shook his head. "No, baby, no. It's not your fault. I'm sorry I didn't take care of you."

"Rafe, baby, what are you talking about?" You lean forward, tilting his chin up to look at you. "All you do is take care of me. This isn't your fault."

"I just-" He begins, trying to take in a deep breath. "I just want to make you happy. I want to build a life that you will be happy with."

"You make me so happy, Rafe. My head just isn't right. But I'm gonna get it right. For you. For us. For-" You stop yourself. "For us." You repeat.

You hated yourself right now. The way tears spilled out from his beautiful blue eyes. You can't believe you put him through this.

You force yourself to smile. You didn't want to be here. You had absolutely no idea what to do about the news you were pregnant. But if being here could potentially get you some help, you were willing to do so. For him. For your baby.

You climb into his lap, wrapping your fragile arms around his neck. He brings his arms up, wrapping around your waist. His wrist rested on your hip bone, noticing how thin you were under your sweater.

"Did you eat today, baby?" He whispered, already knowing the answer.

You shake your head. "No, but I'll have dinner after this." You promise. Knowing you have to eat for two even though the thought of food made you sick.

You pull back from him slightly. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Rafe sighs, the memory of the night prior causing him extreme anxiety, but he nodded his head.

-

A look of disgust sat on your face as Rafe finished telling you what happened. You were so upset with yourself. You could have reached out for help but you decided to fuck up instead. As you always do. Always afraid of asking for help and just getting high and trying to end it all instead. Even when you were with the love of your life.

"5 minutes," A nurse said as he walked past you.

You and Rafe both ignored him.

"Rafe..." You began, tangling your fingers with is. "I'm going to get better okay?" He was hesitant and you didn't blame him. Rafe was a coke head, yes, but he had never seen this side of addiction. "I'm going to talk with the doctor tonight. Talk about meds and therapy and all that shit. Just please...please don't give up on me."

His eyes shot up to meet yours, almost offended by your words. "I would never leave you."

That's when you realized how fucking shitty you were. Rafe was a coke head. But he stopped for you. He took care of you when you overdosed. When you tried to end your life. He was completely addicted to you. Drugs couldn't compare. He'd do anything just to have you but here you were, running off to the trap to get high and landing yourself in a mental institution.

The nurses announced that visiting hours were over and your stomach dropped. You weren't ready to spend the night without Rafe.

"I'll be back tomorrow," He promises. "I love you more than anything, angel." He said as he pulled you into him and pressed kisses to your head.

"Can you bring Courtney tomorrow?" You ask.

Rafe's face falls. "Uhm..."

"What is it?"

Rafe sighs. "Courtney is, uhmm...she's upset."

You look down. Courtney had been subjected to this before. You couldn't blame her.

"I'll talk to her, okay?" He says, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. You just nod in agreement and he presses a kiss to your lips.

You want to savor the moment forever but it's cut short by the nurses ushering you all back to your rooms. You turn to look at Rafe one more time. He attempts a smile but you can still see the pain on his face.

Once you are back in your room you let it all out. You sobbed loudly as you thought about your actions, how much pain Rafe was in, how Courtney was hurting, how you had a tiny human growing inside you. It was all so overwhelming.

A nurse knocked on your door and you quickly wiped away your tears. "Dinner?"

You offer a smile, walking over and taking the tray of food from him. "Thank you."

You go back to your bed and pick at the food on your plate. It looked disgusting but you knew you needed to eat. You rubbed your belly, knowing the little life you and Rafe created was growing inside you. Suddenly, you didn't feel so alone.

_________

You stayed calm the next few days. You saw the doctor and she prescribed you some antidepressants, ones that wouldn't hurt the baby, you made sure.

She voted against the anti-psychotics, since it didn't seem to be a prominent thing. You knew this last episode was fueled by depression, alcohol, and far too much cocaine.

Rafe visited you every day. You still hadn't told him. You couldn't, not like this. You told him how hard you were trying to get better, and he could see your change in behavior. Being completely sober seemed to improve your mood so much.

After Rafe left on day three, you headed straight to speak with your therapist.

"Hey," You said as your plopped down on the couch in her office.

"Y/N, how are you feeling?" She asks with a smile.

"I'm good," You say, biting your lip and blushing. "Just saw Rafe. I can't wait to get out of here and be with him again." You throw your head back, smiling like an idiot.

She chuckles. "Will he be the one picking you up tomorrow?"

"Yep!"

"Have you told him?" She asked, motioning to your stomach.

You smile and place your hand on your belly. "Not yet. I want it to be special. I don't want to tell him while I'm locked up in here. He'll go nuts. He's a very hands on type of person."

She nods. "How are you feeling about your sobriety plan?"

"I can do it. For Rafe and for our baby. I don't want anything to happen to him."

"Him?" She asks, raising her eyebrows.

You smile. "Yeah. I've been having dreams the last few nights. It's a boy."

Your therapist humors you. Getting through the rest of your session, she makes sure you're all set up with your medication, contact info for any help you may need, and goes over the plan you two worked out for getting back on your feet.

In all honestly, you didn't care. Yes, you were going to take your meds. Yes you were going to stay sober. But you just wanted to get home. You wanted to be with Rafe.

________

You woke up the next morning with a smile. You threw on a clean pair of sweats and a tank top. You tossed your beach waves into a high ponytail. You couldn't help but smile in your tiny bathroom mirror. Rafe would be here soon and you'd get to go home.

All you wanted was to get some McDonald's, go home, make love, and watch movies with the love of your life. You were determined to prioritize your happiness so you could be a good girlfriend and a good mother.

You sat on your bed, clutching your duffle bag. You couldn't help but smile as you tried to be patient for the nurse.

Finally, he came to retrieve you. "Ready to go, Miss Y/L/N?"

You jumped up from your bed and walked out the door. "Yep!"

You walked with confidence, feeling like your old self again. You clutched your bag to your shoulder, running your thumb over the RC on your chest. You couldn't help but smile. Things were going to be good now.

The nurse escorts you out to the lobby, and to no surprise, your blue-eyed, 6'4" boy was waiting for you. You dropped your bag and jumped into his arms.

"Hey baby!"

"Pretty girl," He whispered into your neck. "I've missed you so much."

You enjoyed his embrace for a moment before he set you down and picked up your bag. "You ready to go?"

"Fuck yes!" You say excitedly.

Rafe laces his fingers through yours, trying his best to ignore the bandage on your wrist.

He walks you out to his truck and helps you into the passenger seat. "You hungry?" He asks.

"Mickey D's!" You yell excitedly. Your meds were doing a great job of bringing your mood up.

Rafe chuckles. "As you wish, angel." He closes your door and runs around the truck to hop in the drivers side.

Rafe pulls into the drive thru, ordering you nuggets and fries and a McFlurry, of course. He orders himself some food too and he parks in the parking lot.

The two of you giggle, throwing fries at eachother and sharing food. Just enjoying the moment on this beautiful sunny day.

"So I'm guessing you're ready for a horror movie marathon?" Rafe asks as he drives back to Figure Eight.

"Most definitely!" You tell him. "But...can we stop by Courtney's real quick?"

Rafe bites his lip at your request, but he nods.

Courtney had barely talked to the boys in days. She was traumatized. It was the second time she'd seen you try to take your life. She did everything in her power to make you happy and it was never enough. It wasn't her fault, of course, but she couldn't help but feel like it was.

Rafe pulls into Courtney's driveway. He's about to get out of the truck but you stop him. "Just, give me a minute. Please." You tell him. He's reluctant but he nods.

You hop out of the truck and head towards the front door. You take a deep breath before ringing the door bell.

Helena answers, taking in the sight of you. She held back tears as she pulled you into her arms. She didn't say anything. Just held you tight and rubbed your back before nodding towards the basement.

You offer her a smile and head downstairs. You could hear a movie playing loudly. You turned the corner to the theater room, seeing Courtney spread out on the couch. A plethora of soda cans and snack wrappers littering the table in front of her.

"Court?" You say softly. Almost hoping she doesn't here you. But she does. Her head snaps to you, but she doesn't move to get up.

She reaches for the remote and pauses her movie. "Hey," She finally says. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm, uhm...I'm good." You told her. "How are you?"

She snorts at your question. "Living the dream."

"Courtney, I'm so sorry-"

"Why'd you do it?"

"I-I don't remember doing it. It was a mistake."

"So I'm supposed to forgive you and just wait for you to do it again?" She scoffs.

Her words hurt, but they are valid. "I'm totally sober now, Court. And I'm on meds. I'm really trying to sort my shit out."

"What's gonna keep you sober? Rafe obviously isn't good enough. You should have seen him after they took you to the nuthouse. He was a fucking wreck. I've never seen a grown man cry like that!" She's standing now, yelling at you.

Your face twitches but you bite back tears. "I know. But it's different now."

"How's it different, Y/N?! Please, enlighten me!"

"I'm pregnant!" You say, standing up to meet her gaze.

Her eyes widen, trying to find the words to say.

"Rafe doesn't know yet." You add.

Courtney's lip quivers. She couldn't be mad at you. As much as you hurt her, she loved you more than anything.

She pulls you to her, hugging you tightly. You hug her back as she rocks you back and forth.

You hold each other for a solid five minutes. She pulls back, taking your face between her hands. "You're gonna be such a good mama." She tells you with a smile. And she meant it. As fucked up as you were, you were loyal, and you put the people you loved first.

You beam up at her. She leans down and presses kiss to your lips. "Don't you ever do that shit again," She scolds when she pulls back.

"I promise, Court."

She smiles. "Go, tell Rafe."

You smile back at her. "I'll text you. I love you."

"I love you, too." She smiles.

You run upstairs and out the front door, quickly hopping into Rafe's truck.

"Everything okay?" He asks.

You smile. "Everything is perfect. Can we go back to my place? Watch movies, order food, and maybe take a bath?" You ask.

"That sounds perfect, baby girl." He says, leaning over and kissing you.

You bite your lip and look out the window, excited about your future for once in your life.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Notes- Worlds Collide Anemo Boys minus Aether

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Recovery date: September 20th, 2024

Description: ok, fourth time?! I rlly am addicted to ur blog atp ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ so uh this time, maybe the reader and the anemo boys meeting their deceased friends and family? Separately ofc, but maybe not for aether bc I don't rmb him having any deceased friends or family. Thank you, and as always, feel free to delete if this is too angsty for u!! (i think i might come back a lot, so can i be ⭐️ anon? If u allow, ofc!) aaaaaa im so sry i forgot to say that for the anemo boys, i meant that if they're decreased friends and family were still alive what would their relationship be with the reader aaaaaaa in sry😭😭

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with researcher ⭐️, we thank them for their contributions. So glad to have you back! I will say it's funny that you were worried it would be too angsty, and I think I made it angstier because bringing the dead back/ making it so they never died would seriously change our character and their stories. So I found other ways for them to meet reader!

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Venti

Unfortunately, retroactively reviving the nameless bard would cause a lot of problems

But, Venti likes to think about how your lives might play out if he were here somehow

He thinks you’d get along

You’d love the bard’s lyre playing

If you sing/play an instrument with Venti, he’ll totally write songs for the three of you

Likes to think you’d play pranks on the bard with him, maybe you would, or maybe you’d scold him

If you ever got married the Bard would be his best man

Xiao

Once fell asleep to Cloud Retainer’s dream machine

He “awoke” to thundering laughter and a hand slamming against a table

You were sitting against a tree, his head in your lap, and his fellow yaksha were sat around the nearby table

Bosacius is slamming one of his hands against the table as he’s doubled over laughing

Indarias is laughing too, she’s leaning against Bonanus who’s trying to to spill her wine

Menogias is trying to use one of Cloud Retainers many inventions to grill fish with Pervases

It’s when he starts to sit up that you realize he’s awake

He notices your clothes are different, they must have been made by Menogias

Before he can say anything, he’s called up to play his flute

You join the other Yaksha at the table as he starts to play, and as he closes his eyes he sees many others approaching from the distance

Kazuha

Having settled in Inzauma with you, he finds his sleep to be deeper and more restful

This results in him dreaming more, finally able to indulge in the deep sleep required

On this night, he opens his eyes to find you crouched down with a white cat

It’s his friends, though he thinks it’s odd it’s not standing guard of his grave

Then his friend speaks from above him, calling you adorable

He looks up to find him lounging in the tree branches

His friend looks down at him and calls him lucky, asking to be invited to the wedding

Before Kazuha can say anything else, his friend jumps down and challenges you to a sparring match

You eagerly agree, declaring the winner Kazuha’s best friend

He sits back to watch, joined by the cat, with a fond smile

Heizou

Heizou dreams of his friend often when the festival where they met rolls around

This year you attended together and left an offering at his friends grave after

Maybe that’s why tonight he doesn’t think this is quite a dream

It feels to real

You lean against him, leaning across him to talk animatedly with his friend

He should feel embarrassed as you swap stories

He should remind you to eat your food that’s growing cold

Instead he places a kiss on the top of your head and turns to his friend

Two can play at this game, he cuts in with an embarrassing story of his own

You’re thrilled, and Heizou finds himself keeping you up right on your stool as you laugh so hard it shakes

He’s glad you got to meet his friend, and he thanks whatever power gave him this chance

Wanderer

It’s a gift from Nahida

When you agree to spend the rest of your life/ forever with him

That night you dream of the furnace, and Niwa and his family

The boy, his first friend, is there as well though he’s grown

Niwa pours you some more tea as you happily discuss your most recent trip together to Sumeru

It all feels so comfortable, Wanderer finds himself slumping against the table

The boy struggles to peel a bulle fruit, and you gently take it from him to help

Niwa elbows him and whispers something about children

He rolls his eyes

The boy sets the bulle fruit in the middle for you all to share

The next morning Wanderer finds his pillow stained with tears

[blujayonthewing]

tumblr vernacular ruining me for real, our paladin's player has written another bit of short prose exploring something from last session a little more in-depth and I CANNOT comment 'chris I am going to kiss you on the mouth'