#I apologized! for it and for him feeling bad!

[totalswag]

heyyy can i request angst with drew, maybe they had a fight (totally a misunderstanding bc yk how we get when we’re on our period 😔) and he was just really mean to her, she feels real bad abt and later he apologizes plss 🙏

love your writing!!!

apologies in the after math ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note hi, thank you for your kind words. i hope you enjoy reading lovies. so close to 2k of you all, oh my gosh, i'm so grateful!!

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summary its the time of month and you get overstimulated easily. drew and you have a little argument that leads you two for not talking for a bit till he comes into your shared room.

warning(s) being on your period, crying, arguing, cussing.

You started your period yesterday and have not been in the best. Your mood swings vary every single time during your period⎯don’t know what mood you’ll be. You've been lying on the heating pad since four in the morning⎯You're going through it now. 

The cloudy weather makes you feel peaceful, and you're snuggled up on the couch, watching movies to distract yourself from the cramps. This is your typical routine on your period because you don’t have a lot of energy to do anything in the very beginning.

Drew left the gym around seven in the morning and was heading home. He went with Chase, one of his Outer Banks castmates. He texted you that he was only around the corner from the house.

Drew came to the house, put his stuff down, stepped into the living room, kissed you on the cheek, and asked if you wanted to join him in the shower to ease your cramps.

"Come with me, baby; it will feel good," Drew encourages, kneeling in front of you and leaning forward, reaching, softly caressing your lower back.

Drew does everything he can to ensure your well-being during your period. He despised seeing you in pain and discomfort. He secretly brought you coffee, donuts, and your favorite flowers the last time you were on your period. He also respects your boundaries.

"I don't see why not," you shrugged, removing the blanket from your body and folding it before following Drew down the hall to your shared bathroom. 

A few hours go by, you are in one of your negative mood swings. You woke up from an hour nap. Drew and you had a fight⎯the fight began over something pointless. Of course it did. Drew had left his shoes in the middle of the hallway yet again, and as you stumbled over them, something inside you cracked. 

Drew casually dismissed your aggravation with a lazy, "Relax, it's just shoes," lightly chuckling, and you let out a rush of pent-up frustration.

"You're always doing this, Drew! You have no regard for anyone else's space or time. It's like, "Geez, are you even trying?"

His jaw tensed as he put down the drink he was holding. "Are you serious right now?" His tone was cut as a warning. "You're overreacting."

"Don't you dare tell me I'm overreacting," you said, your face flushing. "Maybe if you actually paid attention for once—"

"Fine!" he said abruptly, cutting you off. His voice rose, intense. "Do you want me to pay attention? Fine. But maybe you should quit looking for reasons to start a fight. Not everything is a major issue, you know."

The words felt like a slap. Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them, and you fought to let them fall. You stood paralyzed, unable to speak due to the lump in your throat. Drew inhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair and muttering something under his breath.

As time passed you didn’t say a word to Drew—both of you were quiet. You stayed in your shared bedroom scrolling through tiktok. Drew was somewhere in the house doing something.

There was a soft knock at the door, "Hey," Drew said, hesitantly and quietly.

You didn’t answer. Part of you wanted to stay stubborn, but the crack in his tone made your resolve falter. 

The door creaked open, and you could hear his cautious feet. "I'm sorry," he added, bringing his voice closer. "I should not have spoken to you like that. "I didn't mean it."

You peered out from beneath the cover, seeing his sorrowful gaze. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and his hair was ruffled, as if he had raked his fingers through it in irritation.

"I was out of line," he added, crouching near the bed. "I just lashed out." That is on me."

Drew continues to explain he was even more out of line knowing you are on your period and you have these little moments where you aren’t in the best of moods. He was validating your feelings, putting the blame on himself. However, you shouldn’t react that way to begin with.

The honesty in his tone made your throat clench.

"I'm sorry, too," you said quietly. "I didn't intend to provoke a fight. "I just..." I've been feeling lousy all day and took it out on you. "I should not have done that."

Drew shook his head softly. "No, do not do it. You are free to express how you feel. "I just want to be better for you."

He grabbed your hand and lovingly squeezed it. "Will you come out with me? "I have something to show you."

Curiosity got the best of you. The wonders of what he has for you. Was he doing something to make up for the altercation? So many things running through your mind. 

When you entered the dining room, your breath hitched. The table was set with your favorite dinner, and candles flickered softly in the dark lighting. An arrangement of your favorite flowers was placed in the center, their beautiful fragrance filling the air.

"I know it doesn't erase what I said," Drew replied softly, caressing the back of his neck. But I wanted to make it up to you. You mean everything to me, and I detest the thought of you thinking I don't care,” wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek a few times.

Your eyes welled up again, but this time with glad tears. You hugged him firmly and buried your face in his chest.

"Thank you," you replied softly. "This means everything to me."

He kisses the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you. "You mean everything to me," he said quietly back.

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[unpopularly-opinionated]

So you believe that Boeing paid off the family juuuuuust enough to get them to say that he wasn't assassinated, but not enough to stop them from saying "Boeing is responsible for his death and should be held responsible for their grotesque conduct that drove him to suicide?"

I guess I should've been more clear when I said Boeing "paid off" the bereaved family, that's on me I guess, but I didn't mean they paid them off in the same sense that you'd pay off a cop. If it even transpired, it would more than likely go something like: "Hey, we feel really bad about the tragic loss of your son who definitely for sure killed himself, so uh, here's some money for your loss. See, we're the good guys in this! Please don't point fingers at us."

Or alternatively, they could've not been paid at all. Both are just as likely and explain why the family might still be pointing fingers. It wouldn't have been hush money, more like a gift meant to ingratiate them as an innocent party that obviously didn't work (again, assuming it even happened).

The evidence you have is an apparent belief that money has evil-gravitic properties, and anything bad that happens must have originated with the closest concentration of money.

Not anything, no, just the ones where Occam's razor applies. Again, which is more likely, a hundred billion dollar company who are active agents of shady, illegal business practices had both the cause and the means to have someone with information dangerous to their company killed and covered up... or that the guy who was about to testify with said-dangerous information just up and decided to end it all right before the finish line?

You seem to be under the impression that money holds little to no power which is as amusing to me as it is grossly naive.

By your standard, is there any evidence that is not hearsay? Because the evidence is "all of the evidence," and I appended the assessment of the family to pre-empt the accusation it was all made up evidence. What evidence does not count as hearsay?

To reiterate, I don't have any evidence that he was killed, nor did I ever claim to. But the evidence that he killed himself is the hole in his head and the "trust me bro" we get from the cops, which is the same exact kind of evidence that we got from Epstein's supposed suicide as well, just a man hanging in his cell and a "trust me bro" from the cops.

Now, is this me saying that we should question whether or not every suicide by gunshot/hanging is legit or just actually a covered up murder? No, obviously not. Again, I'm just applying Occam's razor here. Joe Blow who lived an average life before deciding to end it all probably wasn't secretly murdered. But the guy with information that could harm a lot of really powerful people, who is in active pursuit of revealing that information to the proper authorities, decides to end it all just before the finish line? You can't reasonably argue that it's not the least bit suspect.

The rest of us know Epstein didn't kill himself because we observe facts about reality and observe when they do and do not align with a conspiracy or cover-up.

You know, I don't mean to be rude, and what I said about you being naive about money was rude, so I apologize. But if not money, you seem to think that maybe only politicians or political figures have the modicum of power necessary to have someone killed and cover it up.

Like let's just examine your admission here: You've admitted that the circumstances surrounding Epstein's supposed suicide were suspect enough to justify questioning it's legitimacy. You admit to this despite the fact that he was in prison and under close watch by guards and cameras. Which, mind you, I agree with. But you're telling me that someone in those circumstances was somehow murdered, and said-murder was then covered up?

So then explain to me how exactly it's so unbelievable that a dude not in prison, not under watch by guards or cameras, was murdered in his car and then covered up as a suicide? How was one dude with dangerous information under total security and surveillance mysteriously killed and staged, but the other dude with dangerous information with no security or surveillance probably just killed himself?

This isn't the hill I'm prepared to die on, but sure, maybe he did kill himself. But then again, maybe Epstein actually just killed himself too.

Remember earlier this year when Boeing very clearly had a whistleblower executed? And law enforcement didn't even look for anyone or release any info about it or anything?

People keep comparing Luigi Mangione's case to the subway murderer who got off because of systemic eugenics, but I think there's something more apt about the fact that a CEO had someone executed in recent memory, with zero attempts to find a culprit, while they spared no expense at all to find (and probably frame, it's beginning to look like) someone who shot a CEO. It's always fine to slaughter if you're rich, but if you kill the rich, they will hunt you down.

[plasticferal]

okay so i have a little matt sturniolo request 😚

Basically the reader and matt are best friends and they’re both chilling in matts bed and the reader mentions that she has bad period cramps so matt offers to help her out (makes her 0rg@sm). i’m not sure if that’s too crazy or anything but thank you in advance if you happen to write it :)

kiss it better | matt sturniolo.

authors note: this might not be everyone's thing, it's only a little freaky, but that's what we're here for, right? consider this an apology for disappearing.

warnings: fem!reader, period, slight mention of blood, masturbation, explicit language.

matt has been fast asleep beside you since the sun went down. well, you assumed asleep. he's woken up without your knowledge at least five times due to you tossing and turning.

the sun is starting to peak through his closes blinds, and you're tangled in the sheets trying to get comfortable. you're on your final tether, about to fling up from the mattress when suddenly matt's arm drapes over your stomach, pinning you down.

"please, don't get up" he grumbles, hair covering his eyes, face nuzzled into his own pillow.

"matt," you wince, pulling his arm from where it's putting pressure on, only making it hurt more.

that action alone quickly makes him sit up, still half asleep, rubbing his eyes with concern. first that you didn't call him matty, and second that you sound anguished.

"cramps" is all you let out before curling your body into itself.

"is that why you've kept me up?"

“i’m sorry” you whine, sounding like you’re about to cry, but the tone is coming from your discomfort.

“i was teasing, y/n. i’m sorry” matt sits up as you lay next to him, and gently starts caressing the crown of your head.

he usually plays with your hair whenever he’s in distress, so it being a way of comforting you is a change. matt isn’t touchy feely with anyone beside you.

"want me to kiss it better?" he adds, making you chuckle as you melt into your best friends touch.

“that might help, honestly. nothing else is working” you joke back.

matt, however, was not kidding.

“okay” he replies.

he’s watched you take ibuprofen every two hours, use a heat pack, support yourself with a pillow, contort yourself into unbelievable positions trying to get situated in a spot that makes you ache less. so, if this is the last resort, he’s not taking it lightly.

“what?” you look up at him through your eyelashes, playing with the loose threads of his burgundy silk sheets.

“i will” he reassures.

he shuffles his body further down the bed, sliding past yours. his palm rests on the curve of your knee, over the sheets, and pushes it down, forcing you to lay flat.

“if that’s okay with you” he glides down further, stomach pressed to the mattress as his face nears your stomach.

“i hate seeing you in pain” he adds on.

your lack of rebuttal isn’t enough of a green light, so he looks up at you from your hip, gently grazing the tips of his fingers on the hem of your shirt.

it could be the hormones, but any touch at all from matt feels unorthodox in this moment. you’re clenching through your sweatpants, chills covering your body.

a wave of insecurity rushes over you. it’s not like he hasn’t seen you before, but he hasn’t truly seen you. every emotion and feeling is heightened as you nod, and he lifts up your shirt exposing your naval.

“right here?” he grins, and your chest is rising and falling with worn, deep breaths.

“right there” you watch him intently.

“m’kay” he lowers his mouth onto your exposed skin.

his lips are warm as he presses a slow, short kiss just below your bellybutton. you’re almost positive he can feel the goosebumps rising. he trails another kiss along your lower stomach, narrowly edging your pelvic lines.

unintentionally, your breath hitches, making a small gasp part your lips.

“y’like that, huh?” matt perks up, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“get back up here, oh my god” you erupt into laughter, trying to conceal any hint of shame.

“alright alright” he mumbles almost disgruntled, pushing himself up like he’s doing a push up then dropping back to your side.

“did that help, pumpkin? does your tummy feel better?” he teases, scooting closer to you and taking your head on his lap, so you can use his lower half like a body pillow to curl into.

you slap his leg, telling him to stop being such a smartass.

“it does not, but thank you for trying” you tiredly exhale a yawn, and he starts rubbing the back your neck comfortingly.

“so, what will actually help?” you can envision the sincere concentration on his face when he asks, all the curiosities running through his mind about what’s going on in your body.

matthew doesn’t believe that curiosity killed the cat, he's adamant ignorance did. meaning, he’s on a need-to-know basis for everything about you. anyone else, he couldn’t care less.

“well actually, what you were doing, but, ah” you ramble.

“but?” he pushes.

“but… lower?” you grimace at your choice of words, feeling matt almost stop breathing under you.

“oh” he speak in a “ah-huh” tone.

“maybe not exactly that, but along those lines” you continue.

“d-did you want me to, keep goin-”

“matthew!” you almost screech, sitting up abruptly with shock painted on your face.

“what? you suggested it!” he throws his arms in defence.

“you asked me a question!” you throw back.

“yeah okay and, y’know, you implied…”

“oh no” you shove your hands in your face, then into the pillow, hoping to suffocate in the process.

you could vanish at the thought of looking him in the eye again.

“hey now, don’t be silly” matt grabs your wrists in his strong, much stronger, grasp, restricting you from hiding again.

“i was just trying to educate you” you frown, and he scoffs.

“i’m more of a hands-on learner” he flashes a cocky grin and narrowed eyes, playing into your humiliation.

your jaw slacks open, dumbfounded by his blasé demeanour.

“you wouldn’t know what to do if it was served to you on a silver platter” you wrestle in his grip, and it’s officially war.

“take that back” his eyes are laser focused on yours now, and you’re trying not to crack a smile.

“no” you refuse.

matt grabs your wrists, using his legs to flip you over. he straddles your thighs, pinning you down.

“let me show you then” he sounds slightly out of breath, licking his bottom lip as he looks down at you.

“even if i wanted to entertain that idea, i’m still on my period, in case you forgot”

“what’s the point of having a sword if you can’t get a little blood on it?”

“matthew bernard, that was foul” you kick his stomach lightly, just enough to tackle him out of keeping you held down.

you grab a pillow and start to pelt him with it, and he’s erupting into laughter.

“okay, okay! enough, i’m sorry” he takes control of the pillow and tosses it across the room, knocking into a framed photo on the wall, but he doesn’t care. he’s fixated on you.

“there’s gotta be something we can do to settle this” he adds on as you admit defeat.

"what are you willing to do?" you scrunch your face.

"whatever you want"

your mind has been made up. you sit cross legged next to him, huffing stray hairs from your eyes, probably looking a mess.

“there is one way i can think of” you ponder, trying to see if he’s being serious or just shit-stirring. if he wants to play with your feelings, now is not the time.

“if it’s gonna help you, i will” matt leans against his headboard, putting the ball in your court.

you crawl, slowly, once again next to matt. you mirror his positioning, perched up against the headboard, shoulder to shoulder with him. your breathing slows, and matt raises an eyebrows. he's waiting for you.

“if you mean it, give me your hand” you put your own out, and wait for him to take it.

almost too quickly, he does. you envelop his warm, thick fingers in yours and guide his hand between your legs, over your sweatpants. you can hear matt's breath more prominent in your ear, as his jaw slacks open, and eyes follow your guidance.

he presses his palm into your crotch, and curls his fingers as though to penetrate but is restricted by the fabric. you're trying to be tame, but you feel yourself building up with pressure with every passing second.

"this is gonna work?" matt's voice is soft, curious.

"rub" you exhale sharply, and matt's chin is now resting on your shoulder to get a better position.

he obeys within a second, and focuses on moving the fabric in circles as you jive your hips to sync up with him. you know with the friction alone, and concentrating hard enough, you could probably build up an orgasm.

matt's breath shudders as his index and middle finger manoeuvre around your clothed cunt, trying to wiggle your panties underneath to feel between your slit.

he can tell by the way your eyes flutter shut, that you're relying solely on your own focus to make his touch worth it.

matt stops, making your eyes flash open, but his hand doesn't move very far. he begins to slide underneath your sweatpants, and you're inches away from aborting mission.

"let me, y/n” he persists, using his free hand to wrap around your waist and keep you in place.

“matty, we're gonna make a mess” you worry, but there's not a care in the world from the boy beside you.

“shut up" he breathes out, inching closer to your heat.

he slides under your panties, and your eyes shut again, trying to completely detach. even though you're not bleeding heavy enough, yet, you know how unpredictable it can be.

your muscles tense the second he makes contact between your folds, rubbing gently. you're soaked, clit throbbing, and clenching your walls with a pulsating rhythm.

matt digs his fingers into your hip more, and you're wondering if he's truly getting any enjoyment out of pleasuring you.

the tips of fingers between your legs hover over your entry, and you're clawing into the sheets.

"can i?" matt's lip brushes the curve of your ear, and you nod. matt pushes his index finger inside of you, using his thumb to circle your sensitive clit.

the moment he thrusts in and out of you, his lips attach at your neck making you jolt in shock. you tilt your head to the side to give him more access as he nips and sucks on your neck.

"keep going?" he asks.

you whimper a yes, and feel him smirk.

fucking his fingers in and out of you at an increasingly rapid pace has you arching your back, forcing matt to go along with your movements, trying to keep up.

"m-matt" you toss your hips, feeling your vulnerability increase, about to shatter.

"fuck" his voice drops an octave, concentration at all time high as he focuses completely on your clit again. he rubs fast, consistent motions over and over and over until the build up becomes undeniable.

"i-i'm gonna" you shake, as matt rubs faster, feeling a burning through your core until finally you release.

"sh-shit" you're a mess, mentally and physically.

you've already forgotten the touch is coming from your best friend, who after this, you're unsure he'll fall under that title. if he even wants to stick around after feeling around your insides and watching you moan his name.

you settle after your high falls while matt gently, slowly, pulls his hand from your pants. you slump against his bed again, regaining your concept of reality while matt grabs tissues from his bedside table and cleans off his fingers.

"so?" he asks, a smugness exuding from one single word.

"i feel better" you sound disoriented, but are overly aware that at any moment he could change his feelings.

"i'm sure you do" he kisses your temple, and you're filled with nerves once again.

"how are you so... calm?" you ask, resting your head onto his shoulder, confining in him still being your safe person, even if the topic of concern is himself.

"i told you i wanted to, y/n" he replies, stern.

"we're just not gonna tell anyone about this" your mouth moves fast.

"no, we're not. but i wouldn't mind doing it again" he shrugs, and you're back to being content, snorting inwardly.

that's when you know, there's no part of him that's strayed from being your best friend. he's all about you. even in this critical, brain chemistry altering event.

maybe except for the fact you can definitely see his dick outlining his grey sweats more prominently than before. but that's a topic for another day.

"you're a freak" you laugh softly.

"for you? yeah"

tag list:

@luverboychris @floofparker  @fake-sturniolos @recklessmatt  @teampurpleforlife @letstripsturniolo @imwetforyourmom @whore4mattsturniolo @sturniololuv08 @nickysturnss @slutformatt111 @rootbeerworshiper @st7rnioioss-alt @issysh3ll

[trustmypoison]

SVT when you hide your illness

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘Hello! Can you make svt x reader when she hides their sickness to them and their reactions?I love your writings!’

Concept: You have a cold/flu/stomach bug, and you keep it to yourself because you know he’s busy this week. (Don’t do this btw!!! Tell someone when you feel bad!!)

Will give you the lecture to end all lectures - Seungcheol, Mingyu, Seungkwan

His jaw clenches when he sees the condition you’re in when he pops in after work. He was worried that you hadn’t been very responsive over text, and he had every right to be. His touch will be gentle as he checks for a fever or helps you off the bathroom floor and into bed, but his words might be kind of harsh. “You should have told me,” he’ll grate out. “I would have dropped anything to be here for you.” If you get emotional about it, partially because of the scolding, and tell him you knew he had a busy week, some of the heat will dissipate. Still, don’t do this again. 

Super passive-aggressive while jumping in to take care of you - Jeonghan, DK, Minghao

Like the previous group, his touch will be soft as he takes care of you, but beyond a few questions about what you need and when the last time you took medicine was, you’re getting the silent treatment. How dare you think he doesn’t care enough to be here when you need him? He would have called out the moment you felt bad. When you’re feeling better, prepare for a long talk about keeping him in the loop. 

Lightly scolds before taking care of you - Joshua, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Chan

Sighs when he sees the condition you’re in. “Baby, why didn’t you call me?” There’s very little heat behind it before he’s jumping in to take care of you. Super gentle about it, including the scolding when you’re settled against him in bed. “Tell me next time. You know I want to take care of you.” In the future, if you seem less responsive when he’s busy, he’s sending a message like ‘Is there something you want to tell me??’ 

Feels terrible that you didn’t tell him - Jun, Woozi, Vernon

Sort of heartbroken when he sees the condition you’re in. If there’s any scolding, it’s more out of panic or desperation. But really, once you’re settled, it’s him that’s apologizing. He feels terrible that you even considered that he’d prioritize his work over your health. When you feel better, he’ll practically beg you to let him know about these things so he can be there for you or at least find someone to take care of you while he’s away. 

[hjpsdiary]

slytherin boy's headcons (them as ur bf <3)

theodore nott as your boyfriend :

• he’s the definition of quiet but observant; he notices every little thing about you, from your favorite snacks to how you fidget when nervous.

• doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s meaningful—his compliments feel rare and precious.

• surprisingly affectionate in private; he’ll always find excuses to brush his fingers against yours or pull you close when no one’s looking.

• reads a lot and will casually leave books he thinks you’d like in your bag or on your desk.

• fiercely protective but subtle about it—he’ll silently step in when someone’s bothering you or shoot a glare that makes them back off immediately.

• has a sarcastic sense of humor that comes out more as he gets comfortable with you; you’re one of the few people who ever see him smile.

• remembers everything you say, even the small things, and will surprise you by acting on it weeks later.

• not big on grand romantic gestures but makes up for it with small, thoughtful actions, like brewing your favorite tea or saving you a seat in class.

• loves stargazing; it’s one of the rare times he really opens up, sharing his thoughts and dreams while lying next to you under the stars.

• isn’t the best with words when expressing feelings but tries to write them down for you in short, heartfelt notes.

• values trust above all else; if you’re patient with him, he’ll let his walls down completely and be endlessly loyal.

• his love language is acts of service—he’ll carry your books, fix your broken quill, or help you study without you even asking.

• secretly adores when you wear something of his, like a sweater or scarf, and won’t say it outright but will be internally smug all day.

• has a soft, calming presence that makes you feel safe and at ease no matter what’s going on around you.

• he’s not perfect, sometimes retreating into himself when overwhelmed, but he’ll always come back to you, knowing you’re his anchor.

mattheo riddle as your boyfriend :

• the ultimate bad boy with a soft spot only for you; he’s tough around others but absolutely melts when it comes to you.

• constantly teases you but gets genuinely offended if you don’t fire back—he loves the banter.

• incredibly protective to the point where he’ll square up with anyone who even looks at you the wrong way.

• thrives on physical touch—his arm is always slung around your shoulders, hand in your back pocket, or fingers intertwined with yours.

• has a devilish grin that he only uses to fluster you because he knows it works every single time.

• somehow knows exactly where you are at all times, and not in a creepy way—just always shows up when you need him.

• calls you ridiculous nicknames like “princess,” “trouble,” or “love,” depending on his mood.

• super possessive but not in a toxic way—he just loves reminding people that you’re his.

• absolutely hates when you’re upset with him and will go out of his way to apologize, even if it means swallowing his pride.

• smokes casually and offers you his jacket when it’s cold, the scent of him lingering on it for hours after.

• loves pulling you into trouble with him, whether it’s sneaking out after curfew or pranking someone, but always makes sure you’re safe.

• surprisingly intellectual—he can talk about dark magic theories for hours and gets a kick out of teaching you forbidden spells.

• his temper can flare up, especially when someone crosses you, but he always calms down when you’re around.

• absolutely adores seeing you in his clothes; he’ll smirk and say, “Looks better on you, anyway.”

• deeply loyal—once you have his heart, there’s no getting rid of him, and he’ll do anything to keep you happy.

• loves late-night conversations, where he gets a little vulnerable and tells you about his past and his fears.

• has a soft side he rarely shows, but when he does, it’s for you—whether it’s stroking your hair when you’re stressed or mumbling “I love you” when he thinks you’re asleep.

• he’s chaos personified, but somehow, with you, he feels like he’s finally found a bit of peace.

lorenzo birkshire as your boyfriend:

• he’s the smooth talker who flirts like it’s second nature, but with you, it’s genuine—he means every word.

• loves to make you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to crack jokes, pull silly faces, or do over-the-top impressions just to see you smile.

• low-key a hopeless romantic; he’ll surprise you with little handwritten notes, flowers he “found,” or surprise dates in secret spots.

• absolutely loves PDA—he’s the type to kiss your cheek in front of everyone or hold your hand just to let people know you’re his.

• he’s fiercely loyal, and anyone who tries to mess with you instantly regrets it; he’ll defend you without hesitation.

• the type to whisper in your ear during class, making you both laugh quietly, even if it earns him a detention.

• incredibly charming but gets adorably flustered when you flirt back or catch him off guard.

• loves spoiling you in small ways—buying you your favorite sweets, carrying your bag, or sneaking you an extra butterbeer during Hogsmeade trips.

• surprisingly good at comforting you when you’re upset; he’ll listen, wrap you in a warm hug, and crack just the right joke to lighten the mood.

• lives for the banter between you two; he thinks it’s hilarious when you try to outwit him, even if you win.

• would give you his scarf or cloak without hesitation if you were cold and wouldn’t stop teasing you about looking “adorable” in it.

• the type to plan spontaneous adventures, dragging you out of bed to sneak around the castle or explore forbidden areas.

• he’s a mix of chaotic energy and soft affection, always knowing when to be playful and when to be serious.

• low-key brags about you to his friends but pretends he’s “too cool” to care when they tease him about how smitten he is.

• loves running his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, especially when you’re sitting close or leaning against him.

• insists on being your biggest cheerleader, hyping you up before exams, Quidditch matches, or even small challenges.

• gets jealous easily but tries to play it off—he’s terrible at hiding it, though, and ends up pouting until you reassure him.

• he’s the kind of boyfriend who’s both your partner in crime and your safe place, balancing wild fun with genuine love.

draco malfoy as your boyfreind:

• starts off guarded, but once he lets his walls down, he’s completely devoted to you.

• the type to act all cool and aloof in public but secretly loves holding your hand or brushing his fingers against yours.

• buys you extravagant gifts, not because he’s trying to show off, but because it’s how he expresses his love—jewelry, rare books, or even something sentimental he knows you’ll cherish.

• incredibly protective; he’d go out of his way to make sure you’re safe and comfortable, whether that means intimidating someone who’s bothering you or walking you to every class.

• struggles to express his emotions verbally but makes up for it through his actions—he’ll always be there when you need him, no questions asked.

• low-key thrives on your praise; hearing you say you’re proud of him or appreciate him makes him feel on top of the world.

• gets jealous easily and tries to play it cool, but his little snarky comments give him away every time.

• loves spoiling you in subtle ways, like slipping your favorite dessert onto your plate at dinner or reserving the best spot in the library for you.

• softens dramatically when he’s with you; he goes from sharp sarcasm to quiet vulnerability in your presence.

• late-night talks are where he truly opens up, sharing his fears, insecurities, and dreams he’s too afraid to admit to anyone else.

• secretly loves when you mess with his perfectly styled hair, even though he’ll complain about it every time.

• will drape his scarf or coat around your shoulders if you’re cold, muttering something about how he “can’t have you freezing to death.”

• loves hearing you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to say something witty just to see you smile, even if it’s at his expense.

• incredibly attentive to your needs—he notices when you’re tired, stressed, or upset, and does everything he can to help.

• he’s not big on public displays of affection but will always find little ways to show you’re his, like resting his hand on your lower back or standing close enough for your shoulders to touch.

• gets flustered when you compliment him, especially if you call him handsome or clever—he’ll roll his eyes, but his pink cheeks give him away.

• he’s not perfect and sometimes lashes out when he’s stressed, but he’s quick to apologize and make it up to you.

• when he says he loves you, it’s rare but deeply meaningful—you can tell he means it with everything he has.

• despite his flaws, he’s fiercely loyal, endlessly protective, and wholly yours, doing everything he can to make you feel loved.

blaise zabini as your boyfriend:

• effortlessly smooth and confident, he doesn’t even need to try to charm you—it’s just who he is.

• the king of subtle but meaningful gestures, like holding doors open for you, pulling out your chair, or placing his hand on your lower back to guide you through a crowd.

• loves to spoil you, but in a classy, understated way—think fine chocolate, rare books, or spontaneous weekend getaways.

• very private about your relationship; he keeps most of his affection behind closed doors but isn’t shy about letting people know you’re his.

• gives the best advice; he’s incredibly perceptive and always knows the right thing to say when you’re stressed or upset.

• he’s not big on loud, over-the-top displays of affection, but his actions always show how much he cares—he’s the type to quietly take care of things before you even ask.

• loves watching you talk about something you’re passionate about; he’ll rest his chin in his hand and just admire you with a soft smile.

• has a wicked sense of humor and loves teasing you, but it’s always playful and never hurtful—he secretly loves when you tease him back.

• he’s the epitome of cool, calm, and collected, but you’re the only one who can fluster him when you catch him off guard with affection or a well-timed compliment.

• ridiculously good at remembering details about you, like your favorite drink, your childhood stories, or even the exact shade of your favorite lipstick.

• loves to keep you close—whether it’s casually draping an arm over your shoulder or pulling you into his lap when you’re alone together.

• fiercely protective but subtle about it; one look from him is enough to make anyone second-guess bothering you.

• will casually drop compliments about you in conversations with his friends, but if they tease him about being soft, he just smirks and doesn’t deny it.

• he’s a fantastic listener and always makes you feel like you’re the most important person in the room when you’re talking to him.

• takes immense pride in how you carry yourself and always reminds you of how incredible you are, even if you don’t see it yourself.

• adores dressing up for dates with you and insists on coordinating outfits so you both look effortlessly elegant together.

• late nights with him often involve deep conversations, a bottle of wine, and a lot of soft touches as he shares pieces of himself he doesn’t show anyone else.

• has a surprisingly tender side—he’ll hold you close when you’re feeling down, whispering reassurances that everything will be okay.

• he’s all about balance: the perfect mix of suave, playful, and deeply caring, making you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

[celestiamour]

Hello can you please do hcs for su-bong x sweet fem reader? By sweet I mean nice to everyone and loved/liked by almost everyone so people are shocked he pulled 😭 (sorry if it’s a bit specific!) Thank you!

ft. choi su-bong x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ sweetheart! reader┊0.5k words

contains: established relationship, mentioned drug use

➤ author's note: another short one served but they are so cute omg

╰₊✧ most people in the games don’t like thanos, even his fans who survived the first games are learning why “never meet your heroes” is such a popular saying. he’s obnoxious, arrogant, temperamental, unpredictable in dangerous ways (especially when high) with how he dances with death, and rarely ever considers the well-being of others unless they are part of his team. they prefer to steer clear of them as nothing good could ever come from associating with a hooligan like him, and they tell you to do the same because he would only be a bad influence.

╰₊✧ when they find out a sweetheart like you is actually his girlfriend, their jaws go slack and their eyes go round in shock. not a fling to pass the time, not a situationship, his real girlfriend whom he’s very committed to. you, the darling girl everyone loves who gives massages to the elderly and always gives her milk away to anyone who needs it, dating some fuckass rapper who is a menace to society. 

╰₊✧ while your boyfriend frequently flexes you as his partner, truth be told, he’s not sure how he pulled you either but is too scared to ask just in case you realize you can do better than him. 

╰₊✧ he’s so smitten with you, by the way, it’s almost pathetic. his personality turns a complete 180 degrees and gives kang dae-ho a run for his money in the contest of golden retriever personality, a complete and utter simp (do people even still use that word anymore) for you— you say “jump,” he asks “how high.” he would probably quit using drugs if you asked him to and supported him through withdrawals, which is probably why he’s a bit more sneaky about it and you haven’t noticed yet.

╰₊✧ never says sorry first after arguments because of how stubborn he is, but he feels so guilty when you sputter a string of apologies through tears seconds after that he might start crying too because you’re just too sweet for him. 

╰₊✧ deviates from his usual style of songwriting to write more romantic stuff dedicated to you with lots of motifs about heavenly angels and saccharine sugar. he finds the final product a little embarrassing because of just how different it is to his raps, but you always love it and listen to it at least a hundred times before adding it to your favorites. also, he has so many playlists with you in mind, he probably has a separate account for them. he puts a little too much thought into curating the perfect background music for dates, for dancing around the house, or just to listen to with headphones when he’s thinking about you in any instance.

╰₊✧ matching icons on your social media with half a heart frame so when you put them together it’s a heart around the two of you because he’ll be damned if the entire world doesn’t know that you’re his and he’s yours.

[joeyfranchise]

got me thinkin’ nonsense

justin herbert x fem!reader

warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content. 18+ only. oral (f. receiving), dumbification ;)

word count: 2.3k.

note: hello i am once again having brainrot about justin 😋 and so is maja because this is another idea we’ve talked about extensively. love youuuu @joeyburrrow 😮‍💨

to put it plainly - you were having a horrible day.

it started unexpectedly after you’d taken nearly an hour in the morning to curl your hair perfectly, only to be met with a downpour of rain outside that left it limp and wet.

when you got to the office the strap of your bag broke and it dropped off your arm, leaving the contents to skitter across the floor of the lobby. your coworker— and quite possibly the bane of your existence— katherine helped you pick up your things before scurrying off to her desk a little too cheerily.

you sat through meeting after boring meeting, listening to your bosses babble on and to katherine’s incessant interruptions, adding her two cents to everything they said.

as you left your last meeting your foot caught the door frame on the way out and you toppled over into the hall, falling right into your bosses back. your weight crashing into him sent him straight into the wall on the other side of the hallway and you began to apologize profusely.

you stood and extended your hand to help him, sheepishly gazing down at him. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he declined your hand, standing up and wiping his hands on his pants.

“be more careful,” he sneered, before walking briskly down the hall.

you headed back to your desk and gathered your things, beyond ready to get home and spend the evening underneath your duvet without any other care in the world, just waiting for justin to get home.

you grabbed your things and headed to the parking lot, and since your bag was broken you ended up just throwing all your belongings in the passenger seat before driving home, eager to strip your clothes and lie in bed.

unfortunately, your bad luck didn’t end when you left the office. you hit every red light on the way home and only narrowly avoided being rear-ended by some teenager who was too focused on texting, which left you feeling like you could rip your hair out.

finally though, you made it home. you didn’t bother to grab anything from your car to bring inside other than your keys and phone. you trudged up the steps as the weight of the day continued bearing down on you, but you were shocked when the door swung open before you could get your key anywhere near the lock.

you weren’t expecting justin to be home so soon.

he stood there with open arms, inviting you into his much larger frame for a much needed hug. you stepped forward and let him wrap you in his embrace, inhaling his scent as he squeezed you.

“welcome home!” he cheerfully greeted, and you looked up at him with a half-smile. justin immediately sensed your unease and ushered you into the house, leading you to the couch before helping you to sit back. he placed your phone and keys on the coffee table as you settled into the pillows and propped your head up. justin knelt on the floor to take off your shoes for you.

you weren’t sure why he always did that as soon as he knew you had a bad day, because you both hated feet and the idea of touching them or anything of that sort, but it was most likely just his way of trying to comfort you. he wanted you to see he was there for anything and everything you needed.

“tough day?” he questioned, sliding himself a bit closer to your frame. he sat on the floor and leaned over so his elbows rested on your thighs as he propped his head in his hands. “mhm,” you answered, closing your eyes and leaning your head back. you hadn’t noticed until now that he still had his hair pushed back with the thin headband he often wore at practice. you found it slightly suspicious… but you were unsure why.

“want me to help you feel better?” he asked softly, his big hands now smoothing over your legs. you opened your eyes and looked down at him, a mischievous glint twinkled in his eye.

“what idea do you have cooking up?” you ask him, curious to hear what he has to say.

“well,” he starts, sitting up straighter so he can lean over you properly, “practice was long and boring today, but i was thinking about you the whole time. i missed you a lot… and knowing you had a bad day, i think i know what might help…” he teases, and then presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

your lips follow his as he deepens the kiss, and you shudder as his hands slide underneath your shirt, his warm touch leaving goosebumps behind. he breaks away from the kiss to speak to you, but not before peppering gentle kisses to the corners of your mouth and your cheeks.

“here’s the plan,” he says, as his fingers begin working the button of your jeans, “you’re gonna tell me all about your bad day, and while you talk i’m gonna eat you out, sound good?”

your eyes widen at his forwardness. justin usually isn’t one to lay it out so plainly and you’re a bit taken aback by his suddenness. “….okay,” you agree, and justin laughs at your reluctance. “i told you i missed you today,” he smirks. you let him undo your pants and pull them down your legs along with your panties, tossing both to the side.

you stifle back a giggle as they wrap around a lamp you have standing in the corner, the force of justin’s throw leaving it wobbling.

you look down at him in amusement and he laughs too before quickly switching his mood, suddenly turning serious. “okay, start talking. and if you stop, i stop.”

his arms hook around your thighs and he pulls you down the couch a little farther so that you’ll both be in a comfortable position as he moves back to his knees on the floor.

he leans into you and holds your legs open before blowing a cool stream of air onto your already wet core. his nose rubs against your clit softly before he licks a long, languid stripe up your center. when he makes no further move you remember you’re supposed to be talking, but you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to even form words… you still try anyway.

“i… i woke up super early to c-curl my hair, and… the rain made it fall immediately,” you whine, arching forward as he rolls his tongue lazily over your clit. he makes a sound against your core that you can only assume is sympathetic, and the vibration sends shockwaves through you. your fingers tangle through his hair as you hold him close to you, afraid to let this moment end so soon.

“and then… when i got to work my bag broke and… all m-my shit fell all over the - fuck - all over the lobby,” you manage to squeak out. he shakes his head from side to side as you talk before slowly pressing two fingers into your dripping center and curling them upward. a drawn out moan falls from your lips as he uses his hand and his mouth in tandem, pulling you close to the edge in such a short time.

his other hand smooths over the flesh of your leg before he draws it back and places a sharp smack against the meat of your thigh. you barely notice the stinging pain as your body lurches forward, your back arches, and you continue pressing your core to his eager tongue and lips.

he lifts his head to look at you and the sight of him almost has your eyes rolling back. his hair is messy from the grip you’ve had on it but the thin white headband stays in place, holding his hair away from his eyes. the bottom half of his face is coated with spit and your slick, his mischievous eyes find yours and he winks at you. “i didn’t tell you to stop talking, baby. keep telling me about your day, or i’ll stop, too.”

“fuck, okay… katherine was annoying me all day, she wouldn’t shut the fuck up in any of the meetings,” you tell him, and he looks up at you again to mutter a soft “fuck katherine,” before he’s diving into your folds again. you giggle at his words, he’s being unusually crude today.

his fingers are pumping in and out of you twice as fast now and you’re scrambling to gather your thoughts, but god you didn’t want him to stop. he hooks his fingers and presses them upward, hitting you in just the right spot as he continues sucking on your clit, bobbing his head back and forth.

it’s getting harder and harder to formulate your thoughts, you still have to tell him about running into your boss, but you can’t make the words come out. instead, all you manage to squeak out is a weak moan of his name as you tug at his hair again.

“justinnnnnn,” you whine, the pleasure now seeping through your body, you can feel it in your thighs, calves and toes. he laughs against you, and all you can think is what a cheeky fucker.

he looks up again at you, hair and eyes wild. “that can’t be all, baby,” he teases. his pupils are blown wide and you know he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. you shake your head in response and place your palms flat on the couch so you can use them to push your body forward, fucking yourself on his now still fingers.

“was that it? or am i just fucking you stupid?”

and there it was.

his admission that he missed you may have been true, but something happened on that field today that triggered this side of justin, one you rarely got to see. he was always ready and willing to take care of you, and he wasn’t being malicious at the moment, but something had to have happened today to make him talk to you with a bit of bite - not that you were complaining.

“keep talking,” he commanded, and although it wasn’t the angriest you’ve ever heard him, it was enough to make you listen. “i- i tripped on the - fuck - the fucking door frame and fell straight into my boss. and he wouldn’t even let m-me…” you hiccup, another whine falling from your lips as he curls his digits into your g-spot again.

“justin, please,” you beg, continuing to grind on his face and fingers. you lift your head to look down and him and you find him focused, eyes closed as he works on bringing you pleasure. for a moment you think you’re in the clear until his big hand brings down another harsh smack on your thigh. it takes everything in you to start talking again.

“he wouldn’t even let me help him up. and th-then all the lights on the way home were red and - jesus christ - some teenager almost rear-ended me. and that’s all justin, please,” you finally manage, the rasp of your voice even shocks you. you sound completely fucked out yet full of lust, and for some reason you like it. justin does too.

he continues working you closer and closer to the edge as your repeat his name like a mantra, followed by moans and curses and any other sound that claws its way from your throat. justin can feel you tightening around his fingers and he loves it, he loves knowing he can bring you to your peak so quickly like this.

he pulls away from your core one final time, looking you in the eyes as he speaks. “don’t you love it when you’re getting fucked so good you can only remember my name? you sound a little dumb, baby.”

his tongue is on you again in an instant and your brain feels like it’s being scrambled in your head. you’d admitted to justin one night during a drunken romp that you wanted him to be rougher with you, to sling you around sometimes, to call you names.

usually he was a gentle giant, and god, he always got you there. the sex was never boring, but this really took the cake. before you knew it you were cumming all over his fingers unabashedly, not caring whether the couch would be stained from your remnants or not. all that mattered in this moment was justin, which you knew was exactly what he wanted.

he helped you ride out your high before pulling his fingers out of you, and without thinking, he wiped them off on the leg of his pants. his eyes met yours again and you could tell he was feeling nervous, he wanted to know how he did.

“you’ll have to give me three to five business days to recover from that one,” you giggle, your chest heaving as you catch your breath.

“i hoped that helped you some,” he said, leaning across your body and wrapping his arms around your torso. “it did, but what got into you?” you questioned, his boldness something you weren’t so used to seeing.

“got pissed off at practice, it was stupid. we can talk about it later,” he sighs, leaning his head against your neck. “i think i know a way i can get you to talk,” you tease, and both of you laugh. justin squeezes you into a hug before pulling off you and standing up, extending an arm to gesture toward the hall.

“sounds like a fine treat, m’lady,” he jokes, pretending to tip a hat to you. “but first, hit the showers!”

you giggle as you stand on gelatin legs and try to walk past him, only to be met with weak knees as he smacks your ass harshly. he scoops you up bridal style and rushes down the hall, both of you eager to get to the story of justin’s bad day.

photos and dividers are not mine, cred to owners.

taglist: @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989 @slimshiesty @fourburrow @wheresdylansoscar @heartforherbert @joe9cool @itsjustjackie55 @emsdev @a-whiterose @aliyamustafeena @joemamabob0

[littlelamy]

Could you do like a post smut……maybe with a sweet shy type of reader and rafe. He has been really rough for once (which she liked) but when she gets up from the bed to walk, she falls in pain to the floor cus she’s super sore and rafe feels really really bad and he so sweet with her :(

author's note: really hope you enjoy this one, and thank you for the request! 💗🌟

your thighs still trembled from where they’d been pinned earlier, red fingerprints a stark memory of his grasp. each step was an ache you hadn’t anticipated, sharp and sudden, your knees betraying you as they buckled. the floor was cool against your skin when you crumpled, a small gasp escaping your lips. the soreness was a strange, searing aftertaste of the way he’d pushed every inch of himself into you like you were a conquest to be claimed.

“shit—baby?” rafe’s voice was still rough, a leftover rasp from the filthy words he’d growled into your ear hours ago. but now, it carried a softness, his bare feet skidding across the floor as he reached you, hands hovering like he didn’t know if touching would make it worse.

you tried to laugh, but it came out more like a whimper, your face half-buried in the carpet. “i… i think you broke me.”

the guilt hit him square in the chest, his brows pulling tight as he crouched beside you. “fuck, sweetheart, i didn’t mean—i mean, you liked it, didn’t you? god, i thought—” he cut himself off, arms gently wrapping around your waist to lift you, careful not to jostle. “jesus, you’re shaking.”

you didn’t resist when he cradled you against his chest, his warmth a balm to the ache. his lips brushed your temple, the gesture so tender it almost erased the memory of how brutally he’d taken you earlier. “tell me where it hurts,” he murmured, voice dipping low, full of remorse.

“everywhere,” you admitted, hiding your flushed face against his neck. “but in a good way.” still, there was a faint wobble to your voice, and he heard it.

he carried you to the bed, laying you down as if you were something fragile. his fingertips skimmed over the marks he’d left, his throat tightening at the vivid shades blooming on your skin. “damn it, i didn’t mean to…” he trailed off, shaking his head, then knelt beside you. “you’re too sweet for this. for me. what was i thinking?”

you caught his wrist, forcing him to meet your gaze. “i asked for it, rafe,” you said, voice firm despite the exhaustion clinging to your bones. “i liked it. all of it.”

but he wasn’t convinced, his jaw tight as his thumb swept along your cheek. “and now you’re on the floor, baby. fuck, i’m the worst.”

“you’re not,” you whispered, and when his lips hovered over yours, you leaned into him, soft and reassuring. “but i wouldn’t say no to you pampering me a little.”

his laugh was shaky, full of self-reproach, but he nodded, brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “you’re getting the works,” he promised, already moving to fetch water and painkillers, blankets to tuck you in tight. “massage, bath, anything you need.”

when he returned, his touch was reverent, his hands steady as they traced circles into your sore thighs, his apologies whispered like prayers against your skin.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah

[basicallyjeankirschtein]

lost and found - toji x reader x sukuna

chapter 5: new beginning

summary: definitely rushing, but you meet sukuna! (over text)

warnings: kys jokes, ooc sukuna (i’m sorry i had to make him sweet to reader), pov changes a lot

* writing in between pics if ur interested in context, if not, pics can be read standalone but may be a bit confusing (:

masterlist. prev. next.

you frowned at your phone, checking the time anxiously. where were gojo and geto? did they seriously ditch you again? how can two people collectively be so stupid to ditch you after promising to apologize for ditching you the first time-

you took a deep, anxious breath, trying to calm your nerves. they weren’t that stupid, where they?

well, they where. you were already tearing up, checking the time again. fifteen minutes late. you sighed to yourself, you should have more faith in them-

maybe call them? as you were about to click on getos contact, as he would be more likely to answer his call, you noticed a message from an unknown number. biting your lip anxiously, you texted back.

sukuna? could this night get any worse! he’s probably gonna beat you up next for even being associated with gojo- you were absolutely freaking out, closing the messages app before you could even think of a reply.

did you have read receipts on? you didn’t know. you were too scared to check.

you did infact have read receipts on, you noticed to your dismay. it took you ten minutes to get the courage to check.

not wanting to make sukuna mad at you, and get a face full of his fist, you decided to text back..

he.. just wanted to text? that was odd. definitely weird. he totally wanted something from you- maybe trying to get blackmail material- this was bad! the scariest guy on campus who just beat up your best friend- who should be your ex best friend- just wanted to text? this made no sense at all!

oh, he’s shokos friend! you never knew that! she never mentioned him, weird.

well, maybe you were too trusting, too friendly, because all it took for you to be convinced he didn’t want to ruin your life was that he was shokos friend. you probably should be scared of him, he definitely texted a bit dry which made you a bit uneasy, but he seemed pretty okay!

you hadn’t even noticed how long it’s been since your so called friends were supposed to arrive. they’re a half hour late.

sniffling to yourself, you went back to the groupchat. you didn’t know why leaving the chat made you think that would make them be here in an instant begging for forgiveness, but when it didn’t happen, it made you feel even worse. it didn’t make any sense- you knew of getos hatred towards gojo, so why now suddenly where they inseparable and avoiding everyone but each other? where you bound to always be the one left out?

in all of your friendships, you’ve always been the one pushed to the side. the one standing behind them while they walked together if the sidewalk was too small. even when you introduced shoko and utahime, in hopes you’d finally have an equal trio, they ended up dating. not that you cared, you were so happy for them, but what about for yourself? when will you be someone’s favorite person. they were all your best friends, but you were never their best friend.

was it selfish to make new friends, especially one that beat up your best friend and ruined his reputation? maybe. you didn’t know. but right now, you needed a ride, and your phone was dry and consisted of five contacts (two being your ex-friends and the fifth being sukuna).

taglist

@starmapz @corvid007 @estella-novella @zezedoesshit @beautifulwitchcandy @jinxiewritings @pixiedustaddictsblog @nightlysunn @nanamineedstherapy @lvingd3adg0rl @paradisestarfishh @yanelis-world @str4wb3rryc4k333 @indiewritesxoxo @havkjhdecs @tenthmilo @yunho-leeknow @polarbvnny @b0nez9 @etsuniiru

[zepskies]

Omg really? Wow, thank you so much. That's honestly amazing to me, considering this was one of the hardest for me to write in Smoke Eater. 💞

(But after reading your wonderful review, thank you for making me cry. 🥹💗💗)

First of all, please don't apologize for the heartfelt thoughts you want to share with me. No matter how long or short, I love hearing what you think about my writing, and this is genuinely one of the best reviews I've ever received, because I can tell it came from the heart.

What's crazy is my mom and I also used to watch Chicago Fire together when she was trying to recover from surgery (where she had terrible complications and wasn't well for a long time). It became her comfort show, and I was happy to introduce it to her/have that bonding time where it kept her from thinking about her pain. But I'm so glad you thought to come here to perk yourself up after a rewatch.

honestly I have so many thoughts for each wonderful chapter but I would feel super guilty for spamming :’) this chapter in particular though, hits me harder than anything i’ve ever read before — not in a bad way!🤍

lol girl that's the best kind of spamming. I'd never be upset with that! 😂 Oh good, I'm glad it doesn't hit in a bad way. I was concerned about that for readers when I was first posting this part of the story. 💙

my mom had epilepsy, and I was her caretaker pretty much my entire life. I connect so much with this story because it, feels like i’m reading a mirror, if that makes any sense at all. with all the doctors and the worrying, it’s written so authentically, which is understandable after reading your author’s note. i’m so sorry you’ve experienced such difficult hardships and losses yourself honey, I offer my sincere condolences. and i’m sending you the biggest hugs 🫂🤍🤍

I'm sending you the biggest hugs right back, friend. I'm so sorry about what your mom went through, and what you went through too. Being a caretaker is not easy. I've seen it enough in my family that that's what I drew from in order to write this, so I'm glad it felt authentic to your experience. 🫂💞

now these lines/parts specifically had me crying like a baby lol. december of 2021, my mom had to have surgery at the start of the month. her recovery was going a little slow, but well. however she passed away overnight, 2 days after christmas, completely unexpected. the day before she had been doing so well too— she had more energy and was more mobile without needing as much assistance. came to find out later that’s something nurses call a surge? :/ either way, those moments in particular really tugged at my heartstrings ❤️‍🩹

I'm so sorry for your loss, my friend. It is blind sighting when it comes so unexpected like that. I haven't shared this publicly, but something similar happened with my grandfather this past December. His health declined suddenly, to the point we had to take him to the hospital. After seeming to get better after a few days, he went downhill even harder, and he passed away in mid-December. It's not the same thing as your situation, but I understand the feeling of "why did this happen like this?" But now he's at peace with my grandma. And your mom is free from her pain and discomfort too. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

this line too. I felt this way for so long after my mom died. I didn’t get the final cause for a while since she passed at home and not at a hospital, and to this day I wish I could go back. wish I could’ve done something different. but SUDEP (or, sudden unexpected death in epilepsy) is completely unpreventable so far. I just find it so cruel that this illness I spent my whole life helping her with, ended up taking her anyway and nothing I did mattered in the end. so reading that line, how she broke down, and everything she had been holding in, it really made my heart ache but I also felt less alone in a way.

And I'm sure you did everything you possibly could, just like the reader in this story. 💞 I didn't know about SUDEP, but I have a family member who takes medication for his epilepsy, so I'm going to be reading up on that. I'm so glad that this simple line made you feel less alone in any small way -- I also thought when I was writing that it not only fit what the character was going through, but that other people who've been caretakers for a family member like this would be able to identify with this feeling as well.

everything that followed, it’s like reading a reflection. I shutdown and just went through the motions afterwards too, but ohhh how nice it would’ve been to have a dean ❤️ his support, how he takes care of her, it’s so heartwarming. and it’s really comforting to read. <3

It's that awful "autopilot" thing that somehow allows us to get through the aftermath, in a way, right? If only we could all have a Dean to support us in those moments. Somehow, reading hurt/comfort fics help me feel better too though. 💓💓

a lot of my family distanced themselves afterwards which, it is what it is. that being said, the sentiment in this story of family isn’t always blood resonates with me a lot. my support system is really small, but they chose to be there for me unlike my blood relatives so, that theme in this story means so much — the way dean’s chosen family shows up for her as well, it’s so sweet. 💖

Ugh really? I'm sorry to hear that. 💙💙 But thank you for pointing that out -- that is the overarching theme of this story, a la SPN style. 🥹 Your chosen family can be just as powerful, if not more, than your blood family. And in this story, Dean's family is basically "adopting" the reader/you into it. 💕

I guess the gist of what i’m trying to say, is I wholeheartedly adore this series and it truly means so much to me 🤍 I appreciate your work so much, and I love the unique feeling each piece of your writing brings 💗💗 I know I may sound like a broken record but truly I don’t think I can ever put into words how much I love your blog. you are an absolute sweetheart, truly a light peeking out between cloudy skies 💞

Wow, I really did tear up of happiness. Thank you. 🥹🥹 I appreciate you right back for reading this story and connecting with it like you did. And I'm so glad that you enjoy my blog!! I've only been here on Tumblr for about 2 years actively, but connecting with people like you is what's keeping me here, and honestly gives me energy to write and express myself when I'm going through hard times.

This chapter specifically was very difficult for me to write for multiple reasons, as you saw in my AN, but again it makes me all the more grateful that this is the chapter you connect with the most. I'm very sorry for your loss though. I'm really touched that this story can give you some small comfort. 💞

(And no it's not too much. Thank YOU for taking the time to share this with me.)

Smoke Eater - Part 11

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.

Part 11: “Heart of the Home”

You sat very still.

Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.

You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.

But your life had never been quite that easy.

“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.

He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.

The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.

George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.

“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”

George thanked him.

And you sat very still. 

A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.

His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.

“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”

You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.

Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.

Your fault.

When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.

“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.

“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”

George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.

“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”

“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”

George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.

You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.

“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.

“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.

He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”

“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”

“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.

“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.

You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”

“Is there something going on?” he pressed.

You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.

“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.

You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.

“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.

Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”

You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.

You could no longer be still.

Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.

Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.

He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.

“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.

“Normally?” you echoed.

“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”

“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.

George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”

“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”

At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.

Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”

“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.

Benton met the other man’s gaze.

“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”

Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.

Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.

“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.” 

You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”

“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.

“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.

Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”

And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.

He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.

Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.

“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.

“Come ‘ere a sec.”

Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.

“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.

George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.

“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”

Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.

Dean’s lips quirked.

“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”

Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.

“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”

George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.

She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.

“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”

Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.

“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”

He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.

Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.

Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.

Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.

“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”

“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”

“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”

“Is she all right?”

“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”

“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”

“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”

Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”

“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”

Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.

“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.

Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.

So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.

Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.

However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.

While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.

“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.

“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.

“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.

It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.

On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast. 

“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.

However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.

“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”

She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.

“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”

You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.

“Nothing.”

Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”

“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.

“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.

Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.

“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.

“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”

Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.

“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”

“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”

By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”

“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”

You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.

Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.

All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.

She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.

But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.

By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.

Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.

He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.

“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”

Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.

“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.

“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.

“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”

That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.

Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.

George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.

“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.

“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.

“Just some water,” the older man replied.

“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”

“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.

“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.

When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.

“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”

Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.

“Tell me,” he said.

“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”

Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.

That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.

But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…

He realized that he only had one answer.

“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.

George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”

And that night, an agreement was made. 

In the morning, your grandfather was gone.

Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.

In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.

This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.

But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry. 

He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.

So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.

And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.

“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.

He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.

Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”

You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.

“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”

Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”

You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.

“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.

“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”

Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.

“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”

You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.

“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.

Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.

Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.

“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.

You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.

You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.

“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”

“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part. 

“I’m not leaving you with this.”

Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat. 

“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.

For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes. 

He’s not leaving you. 

Not like everyone else in your life.

You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.

When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.

It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.

“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”

Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.

“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”

“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart. 

“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”

You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.

Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.

Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.

He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.

Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.

But he couldn’t leave you. 

I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”

A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.

“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”

You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.

Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”

With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.

“That matters to me,” he told you.

You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”

Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.

“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”

You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand. 

“For what?” he asked.

“For staying.”

AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.

But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.

Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙

Next Time:

The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...

You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 

Dean smiled.

“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”

You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.

“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.

Keep Reading: PART 12

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[revelboo]

I'm going to blame wanting an update on my favorite wasp boy on my high fever XD

He’s a good boy and I hope you feel better soon!

Worker Bee Pt 13

Waspinator x Reader

• Venting raggedly, he leans into your warmth as you tug him back into your hive and he lays his head against you. Feels your arms wrap around him and doesn’t resist when you pull him to that broken, soft couch. “What happened?” You demand, soft hands drifting over him. Didn’t mean to worry you. Wants to apologize. Truthfully, he’s been hurt much worse before and his self repair systems are already working to seal torn lines and stop him from bleeding out energon. He’d gorged himself, drinking as much as he could find knowing the punishment would be the same no matter how much or how little he stole.

• Sucking in a sharp breath as you help him ease down on your couch and you see whatever the glowing stuff he’s bleeding is all over you, you gingerly touch his face. One mandibles isn’t closing properly and an optic is squinted shut. And as annoying as he is, this makes you want to hurt someone for hurting him. Because yes, he frustrates you, but he’s sweet and gentle. He didn’t deserve this. “How can I help?” You ask, cautiously touching that mandible and wondering if you should try and push it back into alignment or if that will hurt. Know he’s a machine, but also that he’s alive and feels things. “Waspinator? Talk to me, honey.”

• Has your voice ever been that soft before? Doesn’t think so, but loves it. Wants you to keep talking to him like that. Like he’s not a nuisance, like you care about what happens to him because no one else does. Catching your arm and tugging you down on top of him, he rolls you both so you’re safe between the cushioned back of the couch and his frame. The Combaticons wouldn’t have followed him just to finish the beating. At least he hopes not. “Stay,” he hisses, resting his head on top of yours, feeling you still shaking from the cold.

• Squirming as he shifts to pin you more firmly, you give up. “You’re hurt. At least let me do something about the blood.” Glowing, alien blood all over your couch and you both. At least it’s not acidic? And he just gives a low, buzzing growl, draping an arm across you to keep you still. Is he dying? How bad is he hurt? You have no idea and you hate this. Clawed servos rub almost absently against your spine.

• “Tired,” he growls, one mandible ruffling your hair as he just savors having you unresisting in his arms. Pretending you want to be there, that his little friend wants him the way he wants you by his side always. Someone to be glad to see him, who doesn’t try to hurt him or laugh at him. Mock the way he talks, his alt mode. Can feel your warm breath against the mesh of his neck, your softness pressed against him. Just wants to have this as long as possible. To belong somewhere. Shakily reaching up to cup the back of your head, servos threading through your hair, he hums for you, trying to ease your worry for him. He’s been beaten much worse before, this is nothing. But that you care? That’s everything to him. Because you see him.

Previous

[thef1diary]

teamprincipal!carlos fingering you after he heard you say bad things about yourself after a race and making you praise yourself 😵‍💫😵‍💫

— good god nonnie 🥵 he will never let anyone speak badly about his driver. 18+ content below

The door to Carlos’ office slammed shut behind you, the tension in the air thick enough to suffocate. You paced the room, tugging at the sleeves of your race suit, anger and self-loathing swirling in your chest. The race had been a disaster—or so you thought—and the words spilled from your lips before you could stop them.

“I’m so fucking useless,” you muttered, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “I’m a goddamn joke out there—”

“What did you just say?”

Carlos’s voice stopped you in your tracks. It was low, sharp, and full of disbelief. He stood by the door, his arms crossed, his dark eyes narrowing on you like you were a problem he needed to fix.

“I—” you stammered, caught off guard by the intensity of his glare.

“Don’t you dare,” he muttered, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you. His tone softened, but it was no less commanding. “Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that.”

Before you could respond, his hands were on you, one gripping your chin to tilt your head up, the other slipping around your waist. His lips crashed against yours, swallowing your apology, silencing every self-deprecating word you wanted to say.

The kiss was rough, possessive, yet tinged with something almost tender. You gasped into his mouth as he pulled you closer, your bodies flush. His hardening cock pressed against you, and your hips instinctively ground against him, desperate for any kind of friction.

“Do you have any idea how fucking incredible you are?” he murmured against your lips, his voice laced with both anger and something softer—almost hurt. “How can you think otherwise?”

His hands found the zipper of your race suit, tugging it down to your waist. Beneath it, your fireproofs clung to your body, but Carlos was quick to strip you of the top, exposing your bare skin. His gaze raked over you, dark and hungry, as his hands cupped your tits.

“Let me remind you,” he said, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, rolling them between his fingers until they hardened under his touch. The sensation sent sparks straight to your pussy, and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your lips.

“Sir,” you breathed, your body arching into his hands as he pinched and teased. The attention he lavished on your nipples had you squirming, your thighs pressing together in search of relief.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice softening as his lips brushed along your jaw, then down your neck. “So beautiful, so fucking perfect.” His hands continued their work, alternating between gentle caresses and rough pinches that left you gasping.

The heat pooling between your legs was unbearable by the time he pulled back, his hands sliding lower. He turned you around, pressing you against the edge of his desk. His palm slid beneath the waistband of your fireproof leggings, finding your bare, slick cunt.

“You’re dripping,” he said, his tone low and full of approval. “All this for me, hermosa?”

You nodded, your breath hitching as his fingers dipped into your folds, spreading your arousal.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, sliding two fingers inside you, his thumb circling your clit. His pace was maddeningly slow, deliberate, and utterly devastating. “Now, tell me what I want to hear.”

“I—I’m sorry,” you started, but his fingers froze. His other hand grazed up your back until he reached the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair before he tugged harshly.

He leaned closer, and you were able to feel the heat of his body surrounding you. “Wrong answer,” he whispered in your ear, his voice dark and dangerous. He pulled his fingers out of your pussy and slapped your clit, the sharp sting making you cry out.

“Sir, please!” you whimpered, your body trembling as he teased you mercilessly.

“Try again,” he said, sliding his fingers back inside you with a rough thrust. “Say something good about yourself.”

“I—I’m good enough,” you stammered, the pleasure building in your core.

“Louder,” he commanded, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that spot that made you see stars.

“I’m good enough!” you cried out, your hands clawing at the desk for support.

“And?” he pressed, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, making your legs shake.

“I’m a good driver,” you whispered, the tears pooling in your eyes as you struggled to believe your own words while focusing on the pleasure building.

“The best,” he corrected, his pace quickening. “Say it.”

“I’m the best!” you sobbed, your body shaking as the tension coiled tighter and tighter.

“Good girl,” he purred, his lips brushing against your ear as he worked you closer to the edge. “Now cum for me. Show me how much you believe it.”

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as he continued to thrust his fingers into you, drawing out every drop of your release. The wet, filthy sounds of your orgasm filled the room, your cries of pleasure muffled by his hand over your mouth.

As you slumped against the desk, breathing heavily, Carlos carefully flipped you over, a small smile gracing his lips as he noticed your tinged cheeks. He leaned down, grazing his lips over your neck before pressing a firm kiss to the spot behind your ear.

“Remember this, princesa,” he murmured, his voice softer but no less authoritative. “You’re mine. My driver. The best one on the grid. And I don’t let anyone—not even you—talk shit about my driver.”

want more team principal!carlos? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[hyperfocusthusly]

Lifelines

——-

Tommy had been staring at his phone, typing out a message, an apology, anything. He always ends up deleting it. Over and over, so when it actually rings in his hand he almost drops it. The news hits him like a train, pushes everything else to the background.

His sister is dead. Her and her husband, car accident, didn’t stand a chance.

The flight is bad, the funeral worse and then someone from social services shows up with a baby he met once when she was newborn and only really recognises from pictures. The woman hands him a 6 month old child and explains that this is what they wanted. The will stipulated that he would be their guardian in such a circumstance.

He stares at her tiny face. She stares back.

He shuts the door and wonders how anyone could think this was the right choice.

——-

He has to tell his Captain. He chooses to tell Lucy. He distinctly chooses not to tell anyone else.

——-

Babies are hard, as it turns out. There’s no room for grief with an insistent baby taking up every waking second. No rest from being relentlessly needed. No telling her she’d be better off without him.

He thinks about calling.

While he watches her crawl down his hallway after a woodlouse, pointing insistently, letting out an excited little “ah!” as the bug in question scuttles under the shoe rack. She follows it carefully, watching with an intense curiosity that makes something churn deep inside Tommy’s chest.

He thinks about calling.

The first time she gets a fever and won’t settle unless she’s upright on his chest. It’s not the first time Tommy has gone 24 hours without sleep but it feels worse. His nerves scraped raw from her distress. His hand on her back counting her breaths over and over. He thinks about calling.

But what could he possibly say?

——-

The secrecy works until it doesn’t. Until the morning that Chimney is stood in the local doctor’s car park watching Tommy, darker eyed and more scruffy, strap an 8 month old into a seat in the back of his truck. Tommy doesn’t see him, or hear Jee whisper “is that Uncle Tommy daddy? Is that his baby?”

——-

It’s how Chimney ends up stood outside of Tommy’s door one lunchtime. He isn’t home but Chimney knows he needs to wait. He knows what trying to handle a baby that age by yourself is like.

When Tommy gets home and sees who is waiting for him Chimney has to give him credit for actually pulling into the driveway rather than continuing in the opposite direction.

Tommy gets out of the car, Chimney doesn’t miss the moment he takes to collect himself before looking up to him.

“What are you doing here Howie?” He sounds ragged.

“Just checking in, two months is too long, I’m sure someone owes someone a beer.”

He goes for light hearted, trying to ease out some of the tension that has appeared in Tommy’s stance. He is hovering by the back door of his truck, fingers tucked into the door handle, endlessly thankful that she closed her eyes and fell asleep on the drive home. Something hovers in the air between them until Chimney takes a step forward.

“I saw you at the doctor’s last week.” Tommy’s brows crease slightly, then pull back as he realises what Chimney is actually telling him.

“Are you going to hide her from me forever?” Tommy looks relieved somehow, less trapped. He shakes his head and carefully takes her out of the car. Settling her into the crook of his arm and pulling her diaper bag over his shoulder.

“I don’t really drink beer too much anymore.”

“A coffee then?”

“Yeah.” He swallows nervously, tries not to let the implications of this meeting, and the conversation he knows is coming, get to him. “I could do with a coffee.”

—-

[read on A03]

Tagging some people who interacted with my abstract post about this (hope you enjoy!🫶🏻);

@leashybebes @beanarie @accefan-blog @big-urchin-energy @loucifersbitch @fyrehose @evansbuck-ley @sad-girl-hours23 @certifiedbisexualdisaster @theweewooshow @beckym2001 @kinardevans

And also some beloved pals;

@bidisasterevankinard @rubydaiquiri @sweaters-and-silly @apassingbird @sunnywithachanceofbi @theotherbuckley @desert--moonchild @comfortingevanbuckley @livelaughlou @epiphainie @actuallyitsellie @typicalopposite @wikiangela @bi-bi-buckleys @littlepaws9 @ohithankyou

[spoiledprincessbratspostsblog]

needing

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

Warnings: English isn't my first language so I apologize for any and all mistakes. All GIF credits to the owner. Heavy implications of smut but no actual smut. Kind of Toxic!Rafe but idk??This is lowkey rushed but I needed it to get out there lol.

ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ʚɞ˚

Being JJ’s sister already meant people had a bad perception of you, but your attitude did not help the rumors anyway. You weren’t known for being nice to everyone, and that was fine because it scared the weirdos away most of the time.

You’ve always seemed strong and independent. Insults usually rolled right off you, and situations didn’t seem to bother you. Being hard-headed and having an attitude all the time was a good cover. But it was all a front. At home, your dad would constantly abuse alcohol, and you and JJ often bore the brunt of his rage. When JJ started sleeping at John B’s house and only saw you once a week, you ended up taking most of the hits.

You were friends with the Pogues, but not as close as JJ was, so you didn’t feel comfortable staying at John B’s house.

You met Rafe almost a year ago at a party. It was meant to be an emotionless hook-up and nothing more. But over time, what started as frequent, meaningless sex evolved into a friends-with-benefits situation. You two began spending a lot of time together, both with and without there being sex involved. He started taking you out to places and even to parties with his friends and others around.

But he wasn’t your boyfriend. And every time you attempted to bring it up he'd claimed he “couldn’t be the man you needed.” Despite that, as you grew closer, he eventually learned about your home life. Rafe wasn’t stupid—he knew Pogues had it hard—but he hadn’t realized how much your situation affected you. How you were really a sweet and caring person who had just been hurt by your situation. Once he did learn, he started spending more time with you at his house, claiming, “Look, I know this is just sex, but come on, I can’t have you around that bullshit, ‘kay?”

You didn’t complain—free days at Tannyhill with him were a welcome escape!

Everything was fine until Rafe started treating you like an actual girlfriend. You wanted to be his, but was he really capable? Anyway, it wasn’t what he wanted—he’d made that very clear—so it didn’t matter.

Then, you two got into a bad argument last week. You’d started feeling very dependent on Rafe, and you hated it. So you began to pull back, which only made him care more. One comment led to another, and…

“Rafe, stop. If you’re not my boyfriend, stop acting like you care about me like one.”

“My god! You don’t want me to care about you just ‘cause I don’t wanna be your boyfriend? S’pathetic.”

“Fuck you!” you yelled before storming out.

You hadn’t seen or talked to him since. He was pissed but still wanted to fix things; he just didn’t know how.

That’s when you called.

Your dad had come home drunk, yelling and throwing things. You could no longer bear it. So you called Rafe.

“Hey, I’ll be at yours in like half an hour,” you told him, not waiting for a response.

When you arrived, Wheezie let you in. (She already knew the procedure and wouldn’t snitch,) but she stopped you.

“Hey, you okay? You don’t look okay,” she asked.

You put on your best smile. “Yeah! M’fine! Rafe’s here, right?” She nodded and let you pass.

When you reached Rafe’s room, he was sitting on his bed. His eyes instantly met yours. You climbed onto the bed, inching towards him, and eventually straddled him without saying a word while he stared at you.

“Hi,” you whispered before kissing him.

Rafe, being a man with needs, initially kissed you back. But after sensing something was wrong, he pulled back.

“Nah, nah, you were just over here yelling at me. I’m not mad, okay, but you’re not okay,” he said, concern in his voice.

You frowned as tears welled up in your eyes. “Rafe, m’fine. I’m sorry. You’re forgiven. Please just kiss me. Come on, I just need to forget.”

He kissed you again but stopped when he felt you begin to cry lightly, your breath hitching out of sadness.

“Nah, baby, come on,” he said, pulling you into a hug and holding you tight.

You couldn’t cry in front of him. You couldn’t be so attached to him. It freaked you out, and you tried to push him off.

“Rafe, stop!” you cried, but his grip only tightened.

“What is it? Is it me?” he asked softly, stroking your hair to calm you down. “Your parents?” he whispered.

Finally, you broke down, crying into his chest and wetting his shirt with your tears. Although you had previously confided in him, it had never been like this. He whispered a series of “M’sorrys” as he stroked your hair.

When you finally calmed down, you pulled back and got off him, heading to his mirror to clean yourself up. He stared at you with concern.

“Shit, sorry. Okay, well, m’gonna go now,” you said quickly.

He immediately got up and walked over, towering over you. “The fuck you are. You haven’t told me what’s wrong or why you tried to forget by fucking me.”

“I just needed to forget, okay? No point crying over something I can’t change.”

“Something you can’t change?”

“What?”

“What is the something you can’t change?”

“The situation with my dad and your feelings toward me,” you calmly explained.

“Now, why’d you think fucking was gonna make everything better, huh?” he scolded, switching the topic.

You looked away. “Thought that’s what you wanted.”

“What?”

“I thought you’d no longer be mad at me or wouldn’t care if I was crying if you got to fuck,” you said lightly.

He scoffed in disbelief. “You think that’s the kind of person I am? Baby, I care so much more for you than I’ll ever let on, okay? And this isn’t just sex. You are so much more to me as a person. It’s important to me that you know that, ‘kay?”

You nodded, still waiting for him to respond to your earlier comment.

His face softened. “Look, I wanna be your boyfriend, ‘kay? More than anything, fuck, believe me. But I can’t be the man you deserve. You deserve so much better.”

You scoffed lightly. “But I want you.”

He sighed. “Let me better myself. Then I promise.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead softly. “Stay here tonight, yeah?”

You nodded.

Later that night, as you drifted off to sleep, he kissed your arms, shoulders, and face with gentle affection. “I love you,” he whispered before the both of you fell asleep.

[urmum-lovesme]

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P10

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: I know the last chapter was pretty bad, but um, it gets worse. I'm sorry but it can only get worse before it gets better and I needed a way to give our man his redemption (it's not like a real redemption though). This is a pretty intense chpt and I won't lie but it took me a while because I didn't really know how to lay it out... but it's here noowwww. It's Halloween and Y/n my baby you look so cute in your outfit but I'm sorry I had to do it for the plot of the series :(

!!! TW THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SA AND NON-CON !!!

please don't read it if that triggers you.

warnings: ANGST dark content, alcohol, smoking, partying, extreme violence, non-con, sa, injury.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Princess  :  I don’t know, Top.

T-man  :  C’monnnnn you haven’t been to a party in forever. 

T-man  :  People are talking that the kook princess is losing her game.

Princess  :  Fuck people.

T-man  :  Alright, alright, but you could still get dressed up in that cute outfit what was it again

Princess  :  A dog?

Princess  :  A deer you asshole.

T-man  :  Right

T-man  :  So you coming or not 

Princess  :  Who else is going 

T-man  :  Me 

Princess  :  …

Princess  :  Obviously 

T-man  :  Okay diva 

Princess  :  Stop that’s my thing :(

T-man  :  Okay me kelce cooper maybe sarah and her pogues amelie you like her don't you 

Princess  :  Yh she's sweet 

T-man  :  Some more of your gfs or whatever 

T-man  :  Some of the guys from the country club

Princess  :  Maybe i’ll come 

T-man  :  Rafe’s coming 

Princess  :  I in fact will not be coming

T-man  :  Y/n 

T-man : Can you please talk it out 

Princess  :  What is there to talk about topper? 

T-man  : He's been so miserable 

T-man  :  Like a kicked puppy 

Princess  :  I don't care topper 

Princess  :  I really don't 

T-man  :  You and I both know you can’t just walk away from him like that

Princess  :  Well you clearly don't know me then? 

T-man  :  I’m just asking you to come

T-man  :  For me. 

Princess  :  For you? 

T-man  :  Yes???

T-man  :  Let’s just have a normal night you don’t even have to talk to him if you don’t want to. 

T-man  :  Just come and enjoy yourself.

Princess  :  Fine I'll think about it 

T-man  :  Great

T-man  :  Can't wait to see your dog costume 

Princess  :  *deer 

T-man :  Yes ma’am 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two months had passed since their argument and Y/n hadn't talked to Rafe ever since the night at the party. She refused to, she didn’t even know what to say to him.

She had no words left for him.

No apologies, no explanations.

Nothing.

After all, how do you even begin to talk to someone who can so easily say what he did? It had been easier, she’d realized, to just avoid him entirely. Leave his messages delivered, let his calls go to voicemail. She put up walls and pretended like it didn’t hurt.

But it did.

Every day.

And no amount of pretending could stop that gnawing feeling in her chest. Still, she stayed away because there was no way she could face him and pick up the pieces, not yet.

It was Halloween night, and the girl stood in front of her mirror, finishing the last details of her costume. Her lacy white tights were pulled up neatly, hugging her legs, and she adjusted the tiny bow sitting just above her ear, a delicate touch that completed the look. She had carefully painted a little deer nose on her face, a soft line of black across the tip of her nose. Her eyes were doe-like, accentuated with white on her waterline and a hint of soft brown eyeshadow, shimmering when it caught the light. Her lashes fluttered as she applied the blush against her cheeks. A pair of fluffy brown deer ears and antlers were perched atop her head. 

Her white and brown lacy dress clung to her, its fabric light and airy that gave it a playful, yet delicate charm. The skirt flared out slightly, ending just above her upper thigh, giving her an ethereal, almost fairy-like quality. Fuzzy, cream coloured leg warmers wrapped snugly around her calves, adding a cozy yet whimsical touch, while her chunky Mary Jane heels, a shade of soft brown, clicked as she shifted her weight, completing the ensemble. 

She stepped back from the mirror, as she admired her reflection.

Recently, Y/n had found herself spending more and more time with Cooper. Ever since her… fallout with Rafe, Cooper had been a consistent presence, and the two had grown closer in a way she hadn’t expected. Tonight, they were going to the Halloween party together, and they had decided to match outfits, it was the boys suggestion. 

A Hunter and a Deer. 

The girl had been skeptical at first, she thought it was a little odd but at the same time she did really want to be a deer so she couldn't argue. When she climbed into his car, the interior of his vehicle was filled with the soft hum of music and the faint scent of cologne. 

Cooper was wearing his outfit, a rugged, green jacket hung loosely on his shoulders, a fur collar suggestive of his hobby, his dark camo cargos were accompanied by sturdy brown boots. To top it off, he wore a black cap with the words, ‘I like big racks’ and deer antlers embroidered underneath. She giggled as she saw the hat shaking her head. 

Classic

Cooper caught her gaze, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. 

“I like your cap,” she said, teasing but fond, her eyes flickering to the playful embroidery before meeting his eyes. “It’s... very you.”

He tilted his head back and smiled wide, his laughter filling the car. “Thanks,” he replied with a shrug, his voice playful yet sincere.

“I wore it for you.”

She raised an eyebrow, fighting off a grin. “Of course you did.” Her voice clearly captured a hint of amusement in her words. His gaze softened as he reached over, giving her hand a soft kiss. His lips brushed lightly against her skin, and he murmured under his breath, 

“You look amazing tonight... couldn’t ask for a better costume partner.”

The simple gesture sent a warmth through her chest, the closeness they shared these past few weeks making it all feel more genuine. She smiled genuinely,  

“Thanks Coop, I think we’re gonna make the best team tonight.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Cooper and Y/n arrived at the party, the bass thumping through the walls, echoing the excitement of the people inside. They stepped through the door, and as they made their way through the sea of costumes, Cooper’s hand slid naturally to the small of her back. He let it rest there, his touch gentle but firm, as they walked toward the kitchen, he couldn’t help but glance down at her, his lips curling into a smile. She looked cute as a doe—her soft lace clothes, the little deer ears perched atop her head, and the delicate painted nose on her face. It suited her in a way that surprised him. His hand trailed down her back, skimming over the soft lace of her outfit, feeling the delicate fabric under his fingers. It was a touch that was possessive yet tender, an acknowledgment of how good it felt to have her close. Just as they turned a corner to the kitchen, they bumped into Kelce and Topper, both of them dressed in their Halloween costumes. Topper's eyes lit up when he saw her, and before she could even say a word, he was pulling her into a big, bear hug. 

"Looky, looky who it is!" 

Topper grinned, his voice warm as he squeezed her tightly. "It’s good to see you Princess," he said, his voice genuinely happy to see her. The girl chuckled as she pulled away, brushing her hair behind her ear.  

"You too, Top." 

She replied, smiling up at him, trying to ignore the familiar warmth in her chest. She turned to Kelce next, her eyes scanning his costume with a smirk. 

"And what are you wearing, Kels?" 

She asked, amusement lacing her voice. Kelce stood there for a moment, looking a little sheepish. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to look casual, but there was a clear hesitation. 

"Sto—" 

He started, but she cut him off, already laughing, he rolled his eyes, holding up his hands in mock surrender the blue scrubs moving with his bicep, 

 "I’m a dentist," he said, grinning. "Don't make fun of me." 

Y/n burst into laughter, the sound bubbling up from her chest. "What?" she gasped between giggles. "A dentist?" She was shaking her head, her hands clutching her sides as she tried to stop laughing. Kelce seemed to take it all in stride though, his grin never faltering,

"C'mon, cut it out," Kelce said, feigning annoyance. "My girl's the tooth fairy." 

Y/n’s eyes widened, her attention suddenly caught by a girl in the background, prancing around in a cute, sparkly fairy costume, clearly already tipsy she had little chocolate coins, offering them to people with a wide smile.

"Aww, you know what? That’s cute," she said, shaking her head but smiling. "I take it back, Kels you’re off the hook." 

Kelce shot her a mock glare, though his smile never left. "Yeah, yeah. Just wait until I start handing out lollipops and toothbrushes," he teased, but the lightheartedness in his voice was clear. The girl shook her head humoured by his words and her eyes landed on Topper, who was standing off to the side in an extremely minimalistic devil costume, his red horns poking out from under his tousled hair. He looked up at her, noticing her gaze, and she couldn’t help but smirk.

“Sexy. I like it” she teased, her tone playful.

Topper grinned at her response, clearly enjoying the attention. “Thanks,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.

Cooper, standing just behind her, handed her a drink. She took it from him, her fingers brushing against his as she sipped gratefully, savoring the burn of the alcohol.

“Good choice” 

She muttered, turning to Topper again, a teasing glint in her eyes. Topper raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“I like your costume, by the way,” he joked, his eyes flicking over to her deer outfit. “Looks like you're part of the canine family.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, a dramatic sigh escaping her lips. “It’s a deer, asshole,” she corrected him, shaking her head. Topper chuckled, his gaze flicking between her and Cooper. He asked, the tone of his voice teasing, as if trying to get a rise out of her.

“Couples costume, huh?” 

“-not a couple.”

She blurted out a little too quickly and froze, her hand tightening around her drink as her mind raced. The words came out harsher than she intended, and she immediately regretted them.

Well shit

Her heart skipped a beat as she looked over at Cooper, praying he didn’t pick up on the sudden awkwardness that had settled between them. He simply glanced over at her for a brief moment, his expression unreadable, before turning his attention back to the conversation, not letting on that he’d noticed anything off. She let out a nervous laugh, her fingers tapping lightly on the rim of her cup, 

“Just a duo, you know?” she added, trying to downplay her words.

Topper raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the tension but not quite knowing what to make of it. He nodded slowly, his expression shifting to something more casual as he tried to smooth over the moment. 

“Yeah, yeah. Me and Rafe are a duo too, had to bribe him though...” 

He said, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. The mention of Rafe’s name was like a cold bucket of water being poured over her. Her throat tightened, and she could feel the sudden chill in the air, the weight of his name hanging between them. Her pulse quickened as the awkwardness seemed to settle even deeper. Cooper noticed the change in her posture immediately. He looked over at her, but his face remained neutral, giving nothing away. She cleared her throat, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling that had crept over her. 

“Right. Uh, what's he wearing?” she asked, her voice slightly strained as she forced the question out. Topper didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. 

“He’s an angel.” 

He said, casually shrugging his shoulders. Y/n nodded, forcing a smile as the conversation shifted away from her. Y/N heard laughter and a playful 'Catch you later' the sound of footsteps mixed with the music heavily thumping and before she could turn to look, she felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere. A hand clapped onto Toppers back, the sound sent a jolt through her, she looked up, and her breath caught.

Rafe

He stood by the boy with small horns on his head. He was dressed in a white wife-beater that clung to his toned body, his muscular arms exposed out to the warm air in the kitchen. His dark jeans hung low on his hips with a belt that had a cross-shaped buckle rested around his waist, adding to his costume. But it was the white, feathery fake angel wings strapped to his back that really caught her eye. The wings fluttered slightly as he moved, adding an almost ethereal quality to his presence. 

My Angel Baby

Y/N froze, the last time she had seen him was... well, it didn’t matter. Rafe turned around as he made his way into the kitchen, his eyes scanning the room and landing on her almost instantly and for a moment, it felt as though time stopped.

Y/n

It was as if the world had shrunk down to just the two of them, with that heavy, suffocating silence closing in between them. Her heart did something strange in her chest as she tried to steady herself, trying to make sense of the feeling that suddenly rose within her. Rafe’s lips curled into a slow small, hesitant smile. 

"Princess" 

His words hung heavy, like a weight he’d thrown at her and now expected her to catch. Her throat tightened. 

Princess? Is he for real right now…

The nickname left his mouth quietly, like he was testing it, unsure if it still belonged to her. It didn’t land the way it used to—it wasn’t warm, it wasn't teasing. It felt foreign, strange, like it didn’t fit anymore. She forced herself to meet his gaze,

"Rafe," she replied with a hint of frost in her voice.

Rafe shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his posture awkward, his usual confidence visibly faltering. His eyes swept over her, lingering briefly on her doe costume before flicking back up to her face. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then stopped, his jaw tightening.

Cooper and Topper, who had been standing beside her, seemed to sense the change in the air immediately. Cooper’s body subtly shifted closer to hers, a protective gesture, but she didn’t know if it was for her sake or his own. “Rafe,” he greeted him coolly, trying to steer the conversation. Topper cleared his throat;

“Looking angelic, man.”

Rafe’s eyes flicked over to Cooper, but he didn’t let his attention stray for long. He nodded at him briefly, the charm still evident in his tone. “Thanks.” The boy's hesitated before delving into their own conversation in attempt to fill the awkward silence. Rafe's gaze returned to Y/N, his eyes softening just a fraction, but that only made things worse. It made Y/N ache, wanting so badly to ignore the pull he still had on her, the familiarity she didn’t want to feel.

"It’s uh- been a while… how’s everything been?" 

Rafe asked, his voice almost too casual, like they weren’t standing in the middle of a room full of people, pretending they didn’t both wish the ground would swallow them up. 

A while? Are you serious right now? Oh I don't know I’ve been pretty fucking good ever since you shamed me in front of almost the whole islan-

“Been great.”  

She replied, her voice cool, detached. It was the best she could muster, though it sounded more brittle than she intended. He spoke out to her again,

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” 

Seriously? That's the best you've got

Y/N glanced at him, her fingers tightening around her drink. She could feel the heat of his gaze, steady and unrelenting, and it only made her grip harder.

 “I wasn’t planning on coming,” she replied, the words slipping out sharper than she intended.

Her tone cut through the air, but Rafe didn’t flinch. He stood there, unmovable, though the slight twitch in his jaw betrayed him. She took a slow sip of her drink, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the bitterness that curled in her chest. She lowered the cup and glanced at him again, her expression carefully guarded. “But here we are,” she added, her voice tinged with something she couldn’t quite name- resignation, maybe. She cleared her throat, breaking eye contact as she took another sip, but it didn’t help. The tension coiled tight in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

 “Enjoying the party?” she asked, her tone light, almost dismissive.

He hesitated, his gaze still fixed on her, and for a moment, she thought he might let the question slide. But then he nodded. 

“It’s fine,” he said simply.

Fine?

Fine? 

The word hung there, bland and empty. She hated how it felt, how the silence after it stretched and frayed at her nerves.

“You?” he asked after a moment, his voice quieter now. “Are you… enjoying yourself?”

She huffed out a short laugh, bitter and sharp. “Sure,” she said, the word biting, cutting. 

“What’s not to enjoy?”

Rafe shifted, his hands sliding into his pockets as he looked down briefly, breaking the tension of his stare. His jaw tightened, and she could see him debating something, though he didn’t speak right away. When he finally looked up, his expression was unreadable, his voice steady but quieter than before. 

“I didn’t mean to…” He stopped himself, exhaling through his nose as if searching for the right words. “I just—”

“You just what?” she interrupted, her tone flat.

Rafe’s mouth pressed into a thin line, his composure slipping for just a moment. His shoulders stiffened, and when he spoke again, his voice was tighter. “I didn’t mean for things to… happen the way they did.”

The words hit her like a punch, stealing the breath from her lungs. She stared at him, her heart pounding, but her face remained carefully blank. “Didn’t mean to?” she echoed, her voice low and incredulous.

Rafe stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, but she stood her ground, refusing to shrink under his gaze. “Y/N—”

“Don’t,” she said sharply, cutting him off. She straightened her spine, the cup in her hand trembling slightly despite her best efforts. 

“I don’t want to do this. Not here. Not now.”

Her words seemed to hit him harder than she expected. He stopped in his tracks, his expression faltering. “Okay,” he said softly, shoving his hand's deeper into his pockets, but she could see the tremble in them. “Okay.... yeah.”

Fuck what do I say 

Say something 

Shit 

“You look…”  he started, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. He exhaled sharply through his nose, glancing away for a second before continuing, 

“You look nice.”

Nice?

Y/N let out a bitter laugh, short and cutting, the sound making his shoulders stiffen. She tilted her head, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Rafe’s eyes darted to hers, and for a moment, he looked as though he wanted to take the words back, to swallow them whole. But he didn’t get the chance.

“Funny,” she continued, her voice low as she looked down at the cup in her hand, trembling slightly, though she tried to mask it.

 “You sure I don’t look like a slut?” 

…

Her words hit like a bullet, and she watched as Rafe’s face fell, the tension in his jaw softening into something that almost resembled regret. His eyes flickered, searching hers, but she didn’t give him the chance to answer.

“Y/N—” he started, his voice quiet, almost pleading but she wasn’t about to let him finish.

“Excuse me,” she said sharply, brushing past him before he could say another word.

Her heart was pounding as she walked away, each step feeling heavier than the last. The kitchen felt stifling, the air too thick, too suffocating. She needed to get away—to breathe.

She didn’t dare look back, but she could feel his gaze on her, heavy and unrelenting, as though he was willing her to stop, to turn around. But she wouldn’t.

Couldn’t.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The world felt like it had slipped loose from its hinges, the room around her swayed in slow, nauseating waves, the walls bending and tilting as if they were trying to close in on her. Lights blurred into streaks of color, their sharp edges softened by the haze clouding her vision. Every sound- the music, the chatter, the occasional burst of laughter- felt distant and muffled, as though she were underwater. Her body felt heavy and weightless all at once, her limbs sluggish, uncooperative. She stumbled slightly, catching herself on the edge of the table in the living room, the cold surface grounding her for a brief moment before the spinning started again. Her thoughts were jumbled, fragmented. Every time she tried to focus on one, it slipped away, dissolving into a mess of fleeting emotions.

Forget. Just forget.

The alcohol coursing through her veins was doing its job, dulling the sharp ache in her chest, blurring the edges of her pain. But it wasn’t enough. Rafe’s face still flickered in her mind like a cruel, persistent ghost, and no matter how much she drank, she couldn’t drown it out completely. She tilted her head back and took another sip, no it was more like a gulp, of whatever was in her cup. She didn’t know what it was, and she didn’t care. It burned on the way down, but the warmth spread through her like a blanket, smothering her thoughts for a moment, but the spinning wouldn’t stop. It grew worse when she closed her eyes, the sensation of falling endless and disorienting. She blinked them open again, gripping the counter harder as a wave of dizziness washed over her.

“Y/N?” 

Someone said, their voice distant, almost unintelligible. She turned her head too quickly, the movement making her stomach lurch. He stepped closer, his brows knit with concern as he took in her state. 

“You okay? I think you’ve had enough to drink for one night.”

“Mmhmm” 

She mumbled, nodding sluggishly, though her grip on the counter said otherwise. She tried to steady herself, but the ground beneath her felt like it was tilting, swaying, threatening to pull her under.

“I just…” She trailed off, her words slurring slightly. “-need the bathroom.”

Cooper hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line as he glanced around the room. “Alright,” he said finally, his voice soft but firm. “C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.”

He reached for her arm, his hand warm and steady as it wrapped around her elbow, but it felt unknown, not like the one she was used to, the one which would always lead her home at the end of the night.

Stop thinking about him

She stumbled slightly as she tried to move, her legs feeling like jelly beneath her. Cooper tightened his grip, his other hand moving to her lower back to steady her.

“Easy,” he murmured, guiding her through the crowded room. They reached the stairs, and Cooper paused, glancing down at her.

 “Can you make it up, or…?”

She nodded, though the action made her head swim. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good,” she muttered, though her wobbling steps told a different story.

“Alright, I’ve got you,” Cooper said, as he kept a firm hold on her as they climbed the stairs, her hand gripping the banister tightly while his arm stayed steady around her. She hummed out as she walked through the door the boy had opened for her, her feet wobbly as she looked around. In front of her laid a bed, a bedside table, doors leading into an en suite and doors to a balcony. 

Bedroom?

“This is a bedroom.”

She slurred, her words tumbling out as she glanced back at Cooper, who had just shut the door behind them. Her glassy eyes darted around the room, struggling to focus on its elegant decor.  Cooper smiled, his expression amused but tinged with something else as he took her in. The top of her dress had slipped slightly, the loose ties revealing more than she probably realized in her current state. He stepped closer, steadying her as she swayed unsteadily on her feet. His hand found hers, firm yet careful.  

“Yeah, it’s a bedroom,” he replied smoothly, his voice low. “One of the guest rooms, I think.” His chest brushed lightly against hers as he shifted closer, his grip tightening ever so slightly to keep her upright.  

“Need to pee…” she mumbled, attempting to turn toward the en-suite bathroom but stumbling into him instead. Cooper chuckled softly, the sound warm. 

“Careful princess,” he murmured, his arms circling her waist to steady her as her body pressed against his. He could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, the faint scent of her perfume clinging to the air between them.  

“Let me help you,” he added, guiding her gently toward the bathroom. His touch was steady, a contrast to her wavering steps, as he led her to the en-suite. Reaching the doorway, she leaned heavily against the frame, her head still spinning from the alcohol. “Give me a minute,” she slurred, trying to wave him off as she stumbled inside.  

Cooper didn’t move far. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, watching her with a faint smirk. “You sure you’re gonna be okay in there?” he teased, his voice carrying an edge of amusement. 

“You seem a little… unsteady.”  

“I’m fine,” she muttered, though her voice was far from convincing. Shutting the door behind her, she leaned her forehead against the cool wood, letting out a deep breath as she tried to ground herself. She gripped the counter, her reflection in the mirror blurry and unfamiliar. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she shut her eyes, trying to steady herself.  

This is weird. 

She’d never felt like this after drinking.  

With a shaky hand, she turned the faucet on, splashing cold water onto her neck in an attempt to sober up. It didn’t help much. Her head was still swimming, her body heavy and uncooperative. Outside, Cooper waited, his eyes fixed on the door. He could hear the faint sounds of her fumbling around, the occasional clink of glass or the creak of the counter as she leaned on it. A small smile tugged at his lips as he listened. Her shaky breaths filtered through the door, and something about the sound made his expression shift, his gaze darkening.  He leaned his head back against the frame, his thoughts clouded, though his posture remained calm and composed.  

Y/N pressed her hands flat against the counter, willing the spinning to stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The back patio was quieter than the rest of the house, the thrum of bass from inside muffled by the sliding glass door. Rafe sat slouched in one of the chairs, a half-empty beer bottle dangling from his fingers. Kelce leaned against the railing, a joint pinched between his fingers, exhaling smoke lazily into the crisp night air. Topper stood nearby, sipping from a red Solo cup, his gaze flicking between the two of them. Rafe’s eyes were distant, scanning the groups of people inside as if he were looking for something- or someone. Topper sighed, breaking the silence. 

“You tried, man.”  

“I don’t know what to do”

Rafe’s gaze didn’t shift. He barely even blinked. Kelce snorted, the sound almost derisive. 

“You fucked up so bad you’re gonna need… you’re gonna need a miracle—ha!”

He gestured lazily at Rafe with his joint, smirking at his own joke, clearly amused by the irony of the boy’s costume. Rafe shot him a look, his jaw tightening, Topper rolled his eyes at Kelce, clearly unimpressed. “Real helpful bro.” Kelce shrugged, taking another drag, 

“I’m just saying. You can’t just say sorry for what you said and expect her to forgive you. That’s not how it works. You said some pretty fucked up shit”  

I know

Rafe rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a frustrated sigh. The weight of the past two months pressed down on him like a physical thing. Every day without her felt wrong, like a part of him was missing. He’d thought the fight would blow over, that she’d come around eventually- but she hadn’t.

I miss her so much

“I just…” Rafe trailed off, shaking his head. “I can’t keep doing this.” He pushed himself up, setting his beer down on the table. “I’m going to find her.”  

Kelce raised an eyebrow, flicking ash from his joint. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, man.”  

Topper glanced at Rafe, hesitating. “She’s had a lot to drink. Like, a lot,” he said, emphasizing the last word with a pointed look. Rafe’s brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing,

“What do you mean? How much is a lot?”  

Topper scratched the back of his neck, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Like, I had to make sure Matty banned her from the kitchen because she kept going back for more. She’s seriously drunk, Rafe.”  Rafe’s expression changed, a flicker of worry crossing his features, heartbeat quickening slightly. 

“Where is she? Who’s she with?”  

Topper hesitated for a beat too long, glancing at Kelce. “She’s with Cooper,” Kelce finally said, his tone nonchalant. “Relax, dude. He’s keeping an eye on her. She’s fine.”  

Are you fucking seriou-

Rafe’s jaw clenched, his unease growing. “And you’re okay with that?” he asked, his voice low, an edge creeping into it.  

Kelce raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay with what?”  

“You’re okay with her being alone with some guy we don’t even know?” Rafe snapped, his frustration boiling over.  

Topper exchanged a glance with Kelce, his brow furrowing. “We know him pretty well, don’t we?”  

Kelce let out a dry laugh. “Seems like she’s gotten to know him pretty well, if you ask me.”  

Rafe stiffened, his hand tightening on the armrest of his seat. He didn’t say anything, but the tension radiating from him was palpable. Kelce smirked, leaning in slightly. 

“Who do you think she’s been with while you’ve been gone, Rafe?”  

The words hit like a slap, and Rafe’s jaw ticked as he ground his teeth together. He didn’t respond, but his knuckles whitened where they gripped the table. Before he could do anything, someone appeared at the edge of the patio holding a tray of shots. “Hey, boys! Shots on me!” the newcomer announced, grinning wide. Kelce perked up immediately, stepping forward to claim one. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Topper clapped Rafe on the shoulder, pulling him back toward the group. 

“Come on, man. One shot won’t kill you. You need to loosen up.”  

Rafe hesitated, glancing toward the house one last time and reluctantly, he let Topper guide him back to the table, though his mind was still somewhere else.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door creaked as Y/N pulled it open, her hazy vision landing on Cooper seated on the edge of the bed. He leaned forward slightly, forearms resting on his thighs, his gaze lifting to meet hers. The soft glow filtering in from the balcony doors illuminated his figure, casting dark shadows across his face.  

Y/N let out a soft hum, almost to herself, as she stepped out of the ensuite, her movements unsteady and slow. She switched off the light behind her, plunging the room further into the warm, muted darkness. The gentle glow from outside danced across the room, Cooper’s eyes didn’t leave her, watching as she stumbled slightly, the alcohol clearly taking its toll. He straightened as she approached, his expression unreadable but his gaze heavy, lingering. His hands fidgeted in his lap for a moment before he stood, his tall frame now looming over hers as she swayed slightly.  

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper.  

Before she could respond, his hand found its way to her waist, the touch firm and steadying. Her breath hitched at the contact, and she instinctively placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.  

“You okay?” he asked, his head tilting slightly as he looked at her.  

“Mm-hmm,” she mumbled, her sound slow and barely coherent.  

His other hand came up, brushing against her arm as if to guide her closer. The proximity made her heart race- or was that the alcohol? She wasn’t sure anymore. Cooper’s touch was steady, grounding in contrast to the room spinning around her.  

“You sure?” he asked again, his voice a little firmer this time, his brows furrowing slightly as he studied her face.  

“Yeah,” she whispered, but even to her own ears, the word sounded weak.  

She tried to focus on his face, the way the soft light carved out the sharp line of his jaw and highlighted the intensity in his eyes. Her head was still spinning, her body feeling both weightless and heavy at the same time. She shifted her weight slightly, leaning into him without realising it. Cooper’s grip on her waist tightened as he steadied her. 

“You’re really drunk, Y/N.” 

He said, his tone laced with something between concern and… desire?  

Her lips parted as if to say something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she blinked at him, her expression dazed, caught between wanting to push him away and being too exhausted to do anything but let him hold her up.  

“I don’t know what’s wro-” 

She was cut off as the boy pressed his lips against hers. She wasn’t expecting it but her hands now went to his chest trying to stabilise herself as she wobbled. Cooper deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth, tasting and exploring, his hands moved from her waist to her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. She could feel his need for her, the desperation in his touch as he pressed her closer against him.

“Taste so good princess” he mumbled against her lips, his voice hoarse with desire.

“Cooper-” 

She breathed out barely audible as he pressed his lips against hers once more. His hands slid down her body grabbing at her ass harshly as he manoeuvred her around, pushing her down onto the bed, his body hovering over her as he looked down at her through hooded eyes. His hands moved to the tops of her legs, his fingers trailing up and down the soft lace material of her costume, his lips found the sensitive skin of her neck, his kisses hot and possessive as he moved down her body.

What is he doing

“Cooper-” 

She tried to push against his chest but he continued working his lips against her neck. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in. Her limbs felt so heavy, she felt life she was being weighed down, as though everything was moving in slow motion. The boy ignored her weak attempts to push him away, his lips continuing to trail down her neck and across her shoulder, his breath hot against her skin, hands moving across her body.

“Just let me take care of you” he mumbled against her skin, his voice heavy with need. 

“-wait…” 

Stop

She tried to slur out but the boy's lips were back on hers, his hands working on the ribbons of her dress, his hands moving down the material, easily undoing it, exposing her bare skin to the cool air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shot glass hit the table with a clink, but Rafe barely noticed. His leg was bouncing under the table, a nervous rhythm that matched the tapping of his fingers against the wood. The others were laughing, chatting, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside him. Each second felt heavier than the last, his unease growing into something tangible, pressing against his chest.

“Dude, you good?” Topper asked, raising a brow as he noticed Rafe’s agitation.

Rafe ignored him, his jaw tightening. The urge to find Y/N was gnawing at him, sharper now than it had been minutes ago. He could feel it in his bones.

I always take her home at the end of the night, I'm always with her when she's drunk this is wron-

He couldn’t take it anymore. The chair scraped loudly against the floor as he shoved it back and stood abruptly. 

“I’m going to find Y/N,” he said, his tone clipped and leaving no room for argument.

“Rafe, come on, man,” Kelce called after him, his voice carrying an edge of protest. “She’s fine!”

“Rafe!” Topper added, but he didn’t stop.

The party felt like a maze, the dim lighting and loud music making it harder to focus. He weaved through the crowd, his eyes scanning every face he passed. Most were unfamiliar, laughing and shouting over the music. His irritation mounted as he asked a couple of people, letting out a groan at every dead end,

“Have you seen Y/N?”

“Nah man my bad.”

“She was dressed as a deer right-?”

“Uhhhh no?”

“Oh she was so cute!”

"Sorry, I haven’t” 

Fucking useless

“She’s with Cooper, I think,”

A girl answered, her tone casual, like it wasn’t a big deal. Rafe’s jaw clenched as he muttered a tense “Thanks” and moved on. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. Each answer only added to the tight coil of worry in his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Then he spotted Sarah, standing near the stairs, chatting with a group of girls. Relief surged through him as he strode over.

“Sarah-” he called, his voice cutting through the noise.

She turned, eyebrows shooting up in surprise at his tone. “Rafe?”

“Have you seen Y/N?” he asked. Her brows furrowed, a mixture of curiosity and skepticism crossing her face. 

“Why? I thought you guys weren’t talking. Besides I don’t think that she’s going to want to talk to you-”

“Sarah!” 

Please just tell me

“Listen I’m just saying, as her friend, that you really pissed her-"

“Sarah, don’t play with me right now. Where is she?” His voice dropped, laced with urgency. 

“This is serious. She’s drunk, Sarah. She could get hurt.”

The shift in his tone made Sarah pause, her expression softening as realization dawned. “She went upstairs- to the bathroom or something.”

Rafe’s shoulders sagged slightly in relief before tensing again at her next words.

“I think she’s with Cooper,” she added, watching her brother’s face. He let out a flat, acknowledging hum, his lips pressing into a thin line as he turned toward the stairs. As he reached the top landing eyes looking over the busy hallway, he pulled his phone from his pocket, dialling her number. The ringing in his ear was deafening against the muffled thump of the music below, he was gripping the phone tightly as it rang.

Come on… 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The faint hum of Y/N’s phone vibrated against the hardwood floor, the screen lighting up briefly before dimming again. It buzzed insistently, the sound barely audible over the girl's heavy breaths as she turned her head away from the boy above her. She weakly pressed against his shoulders, but he nudged her arms aside, capturing her wrists and pinning them to the bed once more. He groaned, flipping her onto her stomach, her cheek now pressed into the soft sheets beneath her which were anything but welcoming.

“C’mon Y/n, I’ve been so nice to you in the past two months. Don’t you think I deserve a reward?” 

He said again, his voice softer yet his actions rough as his hands trailed down her sides, his touch both careful and controlled as he adjusted her beneath him. Her mind raced, the sharp sound of fabric being ripped snapping her out of the haze- her heart jumped in her chest. 

Fuck 

“No-” 

She spoke louder now, the situation sobering her up, hands shakily pushing herself up only to be forced back down again by the boy, his hand clamping down over her mouth causing her eyes to widen. 

“Shut up” 

He grumbled out annoyed, the sound of his belt unbuckling causing her eyes to widen, her instincts screaming at her, making her lash out, arm coming back to elbow him in the stomach the boy letting out a groan, his hands releasing her wrists as he clutched at the spot where she had hit him. She shoved herself back, stumbling to the floor, her head hitting against the side of the bedside table causing her to let out a whimper.

Her vision was fuzzy as she tried to crawl over to the door, the light from underneath spilling out only for a hand on her ankle to stop her. The boy caught her, his grip strong and firm, preventing her from moving any further, his forehead wrinkled with irritation,

"Where do you think you're going, princess?" 

“Get off of me-” 

She croaked out, her hand coming up to her head as she touched it feeling a wet liquid where she’d touched it, her vision was hazy but she could make out the red on her fingertips. She kicked her foot out trying to get his grip off her as her hands reached out for the door.

“You want to do it on the floor like a dirty bitch? That’s fine-”  

Please don't do this-

She was yanked back sharply by his grip, her breath hitching as panic clawed its way up her throat. The weight of his body pressed down on hers, suffocating and relentless. Her chest heaved with shallow, desperate gasps, the edges of her vision blurring with tears.

Her eyes darted to the soft glow of light spilling from beneath the door, shadows shifting behind it—a fleeting, fragile hope. Her body trembled violently as a choked cry escaped her lips, raw and broken. She managed to sob out a scream, her voice cracking with terror, but it was cut short as his hand clamped firmly over her mouth. Her muffled wails echoed in her ears, her struggles growing frantic as Cooper aggressively lifted her hips up to meet his. 

Fabric ripping once more. 

She shuddered as she felt his hands moving roughly along her inner thighs. 

Quiet sobs racked her body as he moved, whimpers slipping past her lips as his hand pushed her hair away from her shoulder, his lips moving against her skin once more, the sounds she made only served to anger him further. He leaned down, pressing his body harder against hers,

“Please-” 

Her eyes noticed the shadows under the door.

“HE-” 

His hand lifted wrapping around her neck tightly causing her to gasp out her hand coming up to grip at his wrist, words caught in her throat as Cooper growled in irritation. He hissed into her ear, 

"Just stop- …this will be a lot easier for both of us if you just be quiet."

Her eyes closed momentarily in acceptance. 

Maybe if she didn’t fight it, the suffocating weight of it all would fade, the throbbing in her head, the pain between her thighs, and she could slip away into the numbness she craved. She tried to still her racing heartbeat, forcing herself to steady her breath as the reality of her helplessness settled over her like a heavy, suffocating blanket.

Maybe if I play along it will be over faster-

The sound of the door handle rattling caused her eyes to open immediately.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe’s patience was wearing thin, his fist collided with the bathroom door, a rapid, irritated pounding that echoed through the hall, causing people to turn their heads. He rattled the doorknob, a voice came from behind the door, deep and slurred, as a guy stumbled out, nearly knocking Rafe over.

“Yo, what the hell, man?” 

Rafe clenched his jaw, trying to keep his cool. “Sorry, thought you were someone else,” he muttered before brushing past him, irritation flooding his veins. The hallway ahead was full of noise, bodies stumbling past him, the house buzzing with laughter and chaos. He moved past one door, trying the handle.

Locked

“Occupied!” came a giggling voice from within. Rafe groaned, frustration building, but he didn’t let it stop him. His fingers tapped the phone in his hand, waiting for the girl to pick up as he moved further down the hallway. His heart was hammering in his chest as the seconds ticked by. At the end of the hallway, the noise died down. It was quieter here, the last stretch of the floor empty. He approached the two doors at the end of the hall, both wide open, he stepped into one room, his eyes scanning it quickly. 

Where is she

His hands gripped the edge of the desk near him, frustration bubbling up again. His breath was coming fast, chest tight as he stepped further into the room. And then, in a fit of rage, he grabbed the nearest vase, smashing it to the ground with a force that made the room reverberate. 

“FUCK!” 

He yelled, his voice raw with anger. He ran his hand over his face, gripping the bridge of his nose to steady himself, trying to regain control. The heavy breathing echoed in his ears as his mind raced, and that’s when he heard it. A faint sound in the distance, too soft to place at first. 

The sound of crying. 

His head snapped up, eyes darting around the room. Panic surged through him as his body moved before he could think. He stormed toward the ensuite, slamming the door open with a force that rattled the frame. 

Empty

He stood still for a moment, his mind screaming, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. His fingers tapped against the screen of his phone again, the ringing breaking through the silence. He lifted it to his ear with shaky hands, the tension in his shoulders building with each passing second.

But then he heard it—vibrations, the faint buzz a phone ringing.

It was coming from somewhere else. His breath caught in his throat as he whipped his head around, eyes scanning the dark room, but there was nothing. No one. And that’s when it hit him. 

It was coming from above him.

His body was already reacting before his mind could fully process. He clenched his fists and rushed for the stairs taking two at a time, leaving the room before the phone could stop ringing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cooper heard the sound of the door handle rattling and looked up, his eyes wide with panic. His grip on Y/N tightened, but as he glanced down at her, he saw the flicker of hope in her eyes as she looked toward the door. His jaw clenched, and he let out a low, frustrated growl.  Her breath hitched against the boy's hand, which was now firmly pressed over her mouth. The weight of his body above hers felt suffocating, his other hand now rougher as it gripped her hip. She shivered under him, her body trembling in fear and desperation. 

“Y/n?”

Rafe?

The door handle rattled again, louder this time.

Rafe’s voice rang out from the other side, cutting through the thick air. Y/N’s heart lurched at the sound, a tear rolling down her cheek in response. 

“Y/N?!” 

She sobbed out, but the sound was muffled, stifled by Cooper’s hand still firmly pressed against her mouth. Panic surged within her as she struggled against him, her eyes pleading. Cooper cursed under his breath, the realisation hitting him. He whispered harshly in her ear, his hand pressing harder over her mouth, his grip tightening on her hip.

“Stay quiet,”

The door rattled once more, but the lock prevented it from moving, leaving a silence that suffocated the room. Y/N let out a soft, muffled sob, her whole body aching for freedom.

This is my chance. 

The thought screamed through her mind like a lifeline. In one swift motion, she threw her head back, slamming it into Cooper’s face. He fell backward, a grunt escaping his lips as he lost his balance and fell away from her, his hand slipping from her mouth. His name escaping her lips like a desperate prayer,

"RAF-" 

The girl's voice was strangled in her throat, choked off by the sheer force as the boy’s hand slammed her head into the hard floor. The world blurred around her, and the sharp pain from the impact made everything go black for a second. Cooper swore under his breath, watching her head hit the floor with a sickening thud. The impact stopped her screams instantly, her body going limp beneath him as her mind tried to catch up to the chaos. Blood began to trickle from her nose, staining her lips and chin, but she couldn’t move, could barely breathe through the pain. 

"Wrong move princess" 

Cooper growled, his hands gripping her wrists tightly, holding her in place as she tried to slip away. He could feel her trembling beneath him, but it wasn’t fear now. She was just… too hurt to fight back. Outside the door, Rafe’s voice rang out, loud and frantic.

“Y/N please I know I fucked up please just- just open the door baby please” 

Her heart seized at the sound of his voice, but all she could do was cry silently. She felt the blood drip from her nose, her hand shaking as it came up to touch it, her fingers slick with red. The pain was dizzying, but through it, she still heard the echo of a loud bang against the door. The sound reverberated through the room, making her heart pound.  Cooper swore, his anger flaring as he hastily pulled up his trousers. His movements were rushed, irritated, and the loud bang against the door made him freeze. The force of it rattled the whole room, making him grit his teeth as he glanced down at the girl with disdain. 

“You just had to make this difficult, didn’t you?” 

Y/N lay on the floor, unable to move, her head pounding, the heat between her thighs burning uncomfortably. She could hear the banging on the door again, louder this time, before it suddenly stopped. Cooper stood behind her, a malicious glint in his eyes as silence filled the room. He straightened, brushing himself off as though nothing had happened. 

The stillness was broken when the door swung open violently, Rafe rushing in with anger etched into every line of his face. His eyes scanned the scene, flickering between Y/N’s crumpled figure on the floor and Cooper standing next other hand on her arm the other on her back. Cooper tensed, forcing a fake calm as Rafe’s gaze lingered on the blood on her face and the tears streaking her cheeks.

“Oh princess- here let me help you up, that was a nasty fall wasn't it?” 

Liar

Cooper said, attempting to feigned concern, though his voice betrayed a hint of unease. Her voice was barely a whisper, weak and trembling as she tried to speak through the haze of pain.

“Rafe-” 

Rafe’s brows narrowed as he heard her. His gaze immediately shifted to her again, taking in every detail- her tear-streaked face, the blood dripping from her nose, and the trembling of her fragile frame.

“Y/n” 

He began, stepping toward her instinctively, only for Cooper to step in his path, bumping into the boy blocking his way. The boy spoke, his tone sharp as his stance shifted to block Rafe completely.

“This doesn’t concern you Cameron,” 

“Get out of my way before I fucking move you myself.”

Rafe snapped, his voice laced with venom as he squared his shoulders. 

“I’m not moving anywhere,” 

Behind them, Y/N shakily moved her arms, trying to push herself upright despite the pain. Blood from her nose dripped onto the floor, mixing with her tears. She winced as she leaned back, gasping audibly when the sharp, searing pain between her thighs flared. Her weak cry drew Rafe’s attention, his anger spiking as he noticed her efforts to sit up. His jaw clenched as he took in her disheveled state. Her hand reached up to wipe the blood beneath her nose, but the gesture only made it more apparent to Rafe what had happened.

Topless, her hair tangled, her tights ripped, her thighs marked with angry handprints.

Liar

Something in the boy snapped, and the sickening crack of his fist colliding with Cooper’s face echoed through the room. Cooper stumbled back, clutching his nose as blood poured between his fingers, his eyes wide with shock and pain.

“What the fuck?!” 

He choked out, glaring up at Rafe through watering eyes. His attempt to stand was cut short as Rafe surged forward, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him back against the nearest wall.

“What the fuck did you do huh?” 

Rafe snarled, his voice trembling with barely-contained fury. His fist connected with Cooper’s face again, the impact sending a fresh spray of blood down his chin. Cooper groaned, his legs giving way as Rafe shoved him harder against the wall.

“Rafe-” 

Y/N’s frail voice cracked as she tried to get his attention, her trembling arms weakly reaching out. Her body screamed in protest, every movement amplifying the pain radiating through her but Rafe didn’t stop. Her words barely registered in his ears, drowned out by the sound of his ragged breathing and Cooper’s groans of pain. Cooper’s arms flailed, trying in vain to push Rafe off him. His words were a garbled mess, punctuated by coughs and gasps as Rafe’s fists repeatedly found their target. The thuds of bone against flesh echoed in the room, each hit fueled by a deeper, darker rage.

He threw Cooper to the floor with a force that rattled the furniture, the boy crumpling in a heap at his feet. Cooper groaned, trying to crawl away, but Rafe was on him again in an instant. He grabbed him by the shirt, hauling him up just enough to land another punishing blow to his jaw.

He's going to kill him

I'm going to kill him

“Rafe, please!” 

Y/N cried out, tears streaming down her face. Her voice finally broke through to him, but only for a moment. He paused, looking over his shoulder at her, his chest heaving as his eyes flickered over her frame, eyes taking notice of her ripped tights. His fists clenched tighter, his knuckles white as he turned back to Cooper. He wailed out in agony, blood dripping past his lips,

“Stop-” 

“Did you?” 

He growled, his voice quieter now but no less dangerous as he held the boy up to look in his eye as he spoke.

“Did you stop? ”

 “I didn’t- she-”

Cooper coughed, spitting blood onto the floor but Rafe didn’t let him finish. His hand came down wrapping around Cooper’s neck, pinning him to the ground as he leaned in close, the boy’s eyes widened in fear, his hands weakly clawing at Rafe's skin. 

Y/N’s sobs filled the room, her broken cries pulling at Rafe’s fraying control. His hand loosened slightly trembling as he looked back at her. She was slumped against the bed, her arms wrapped around her chest as if trying to shield herself from the world. The sight of her- so vulnerable- made something inside him snap again, but this time it wasn’t rage. 

It was guilt. 

Guilt that clawed at his chest, threatening to crush him under its weight. He had been so blinded by his own pride, his own anger, the words he’d spat out at her in their argument echoing in his ears like a haunting refrain. 

“You’re just a fucking slut.”

That was the reason she was here now, the reason she was stuck in this situation. If he hadn’t said those things to her, maybe they would be in his car, driving her home, maybe stopping to get ice-cream from that spot near the beach she loves so much.

The girl in front of him- was the consequence of his actions.

Of his words.

She should have never been in this position, he should’ve made it right before it ever came to this.

Her cries fell on deaf ears now. Rafe’s fists were slick with Cooper’s blood as he kept going, his knuckles slamming into flesh and bone. Y/N’s vision blurred as her sobs grew louder, her voice breaking as she begged him to stop.

“Rafe! You’re going to kill him!” 

The commotion in the room had drawn a crowd. People gathered in the doorway and spilled into the hall, pushing against each other to see what was happening in the room, their whispers and gasps growing louder with each passing second. Someone muttered, “We need to call the police,” and Y/N’s heart clenched in panic,  shaking her head weakly as tears streamed down her face. 

No- no police

Suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrapped around Rafe’s chest, pulling him off Cooper. It was Topper, who struggled to drag the boy back as he thrashed against him.

“Rafe- RAFE! That’s enough man-” Topper grunted, his arms straining to hold him. “You’re gonna kill him!”

Kelce rushed in, grabbing Rafe’s arm to help Topper haul him away from Cooper’s lifeless form on the floor. Cooper lay unconscious, blood pooling beneath his head as his chest rose and fell shallowly.

"I'm gonna kill you- did you hear me? I'm going to fucking kill you-YOU ASSHOLE!"

Sarah burst into the room, her eyes immediately landed on Y/N, and she froze, her face paling as she let out a quiet gasp, John B following after her, realising what was going on and quickly walking over and crouching down near the unconscious boy on the floor.

“Oh my God-” 

Sarah gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She looked back at Rafe, her voice trembling with shock. 

“-what did you do, Rafe?”

Sarah turned back to Y/n, her heart breaking at the sight of the girl’s tear-streaked face. She knelt down beside her, grabbing the blanket off the bed and placing it over her shoulders to cover her bare frame, her voice soft and soothing despite her own panic,

“Hey, Hey it’s okay-”

But Y/N couldn’t stop crying, her hands clutching the blanket tighter as she shook under the girl's touch. Rafe finally stopped struggling, his chest heaving as he watched Y/n. Topper and Kelce let go of him cautiously, their hands still hovering near his shoulders in case he snapped again, Rafe moved toward her slowly, his bloodied hands trembling as he knelt in front of her.

“Y/N…”

His voice was low, as he reached out hesitantly. She flinched at his touch, the boy pulling his hand away from her shoulder. Y/N’s shook slightly, watching as the boy walked back to Topper and Kelce, John B standing up to look at the brunette, they mumbled something that she couldn't hear, her ears still ringing. John B nodded as he walked over to the door, the Pogue put his hands up standing in the door way as he spoke shutting out the flashlights of the videos being recorded,

"Okay party's over guys get out of the hallway-"

His voice muffled in Y/n's ears as she looked at Rafe through watery eyes, her lips trembling as she whispered, 

"Don’t leave”

The boy turned around at the sound of her voice, hesitating as he looked to the girl then back at John B, the Pogue gave him a nod before slipping past the door ushering people away.

Rafe walked back towards the girl crouching down next to her, his hand trembled as it brushed a strand of hair away from Y/N’s face, his eyes scanning her battered form. His gaze dropped to the cut on her forehead and the blood still dripped from her nose, her chest rising and falling in shaky breaths as she trembled against him.

“Sarah,” Rafe said quietly, his voice wavering as he turned to his sister, “- you need to call an ambulance.”

Sarah hesitated for just a moment, looking between her brother and Y/N, her hands hovering over the phone as if unsure what to do, but she nodded and quickly dialled the emergency number.

“Yeah, we need an ambulance,” Sarah spoke into the phone, her voice quiet but firm. “There’s a girl… She’s badly hurt-”

Y/N’s hand trembled as it gripped his shirt causing the boy's head to turn to her not expecting the touch, her gaze flickering up at him, but she shook her head weakly, her breath hitching as she winced in pain.

“No… no ambulance.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and broken from the sobbing that had wracked her body earlier,

“I don’t need one… I’ll be fine.”

Rafe’s heart clenched as he looked at her, feeling the weight of her words. He could see the panic in her eyes, the terror that held her back from accepting help. 

“Please,” he said, his voice soft but full of desperation, “You need help- don’t do this to yourself.”

Y/n’s hand gripped his shirt tighter as she shakes her head. 

“I can’t… I can’t… I don’t want them to- know what happened.”

Rafe felt his chest tighten at her words. It wasn’t just the physical pain she was enduring; it was the emotional weight, the shame, the fear of having to confront what she had been through, but Rafe couldn’t let her keep suffering.

Please

Please don't be scared- I'm right here

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with compassion, “I understand but you’re in pain. But you’re hurt. Please let them help you.”

She didn’t respond, just clung to him tighter, shaking her head again but Rafe was too stubborn to let go. Before he could say anything else, he heard Sarah’s voice behind him,

“Please, just let them come,” her voice now softer but still resolute, “They’ll help you”

Y/N’s eyes shot up to Sarah, and she opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. She could feel her body weakening, the pain between her legs, the aching in her head, and the nauseating dizziness threatening to overwhelm her. She wanted to resist, but her strength was slipping away faster than she could fight it. Y/N’s eyes blurred with more tears as she looked back at Rafe, her hands coming up to wipe them away, wincing as she hit her nose.

“I don’t want them to know… I can’t…”

“Shh, it’s okay,” 

Rafe said gently, Sarah, despite Y/N’s protests, remained firm. The sound of the ambulance operator’s voice came through the phone, confirming that there was an ambulance dispatched and already on the way. Sarah hung up, setting the phone down. Y/N finally nodded weakly, her eyes closing for a moment as she tried to steady her breathing. Rafe’s hand hesitantly pressed against her back waiting for her reaction but nothing came, so he started rubbing soothing circles as he whispered comforting words in her ear. 

He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the girl. 

The boy could hear Topper and Kelce talking behind him, but their words felt distant. He didn’t care about Cooper right now- not when Y/N was in this state. The last time he’d seen her like this-

When her brother died...

If Topper and Kelce hadn’t pulled him off, he would’ve killed Cooper, he was sure of it. However it didn't worry him, the thought didn't repulse him either. The boy's voice broke through his thoughts, his tone low as he looked at Cooper’s unconscious body.

“Man, you really fucked him up”

Kelce muttered, his eyes lingering on Cooper’s bloody face. Topper, kneeling beside Cooper, was checking his pulse with his brow furrowed in concern.

“He’s still breathing…” Topper said. 

Rafe didn’t respond, his attention still completely focused on Y/N. He kept replaying what had happened in his head- how he’d snapped, how he’d lost control… how he could’ve seriously hurt her too. 

Her soft, labored breaths were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

He couldn’t look at Cooper, he didn't want to.

The image of the boy kneeled next to Y/n replayed in his mind and it made his stomach churn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wailing sound of sirens cut through the tension in the room. 

Police.

Someone from the party had called, Y/N’s eyes snapped open at the sound of the sirens, her heart racing in fear. Panic surged through her, breath quickening as she realised what that meant. 

They’re going to arrest Rafe for what he’s done to Cooper.

“No…” 

Y/N whispered frantically, her voice barely audible through her panicked breaths. She tried to push herself off the floor, her body trembling with exhaustion and pain, but the effort was too much. Her head spun, and she let out a small, pained sob as a sharp ache shot through her body.

“Princess, don’t move,” Rafe he spoke softly, his hand gripping her shoulder to steady her. 

Don’t call me that don't call me that don’t-

“Rafe, you have to leave-” 

Her body trembled violently as the pressure of the movement became too much, her knees buckling slightly as she tried to stand.

“Y/N, stop—” 

Rafe’s voice was more desperate now, but his hands were still gentle as he kept her from falling. 

“I’m not leaving” 

Y/N sniffled, her entire body shaking as she finally gave in and let Rafe pull her back against him. Yet the fear of Rafe being arrested made her chest constrict. She didn’t want him to go to jail. She couldn’t bear the thought of it.

“Please,” she whimpered weakly, tears rolling down her face, “I don’t want you to get arrested. You can’t… you can’t go to jail because of me, Ward would be so mad an-”

Rafe’s heart broke at her words, but he was willing to do anything for her. His touch on her back stayed firm as he sat on the floor next to her

“I’ll take care of it okay?” he whispered, his voice filled with certainty, though his mind was racing. 

Rafe’s hand moved cautiously and was now resting on top of hers. She’d calmed a little since the sirens, but the weight of the situation was far from gone, her breath was shaky, uneven, her chest rising and falling in panicked gasps as she tried to steady herself. Every sound felt too loud. The distant sirens still echoed in her ears, a reminder that it wasn’t over yet and now, she could hear the unmistakable sound of heavy boots on the stairs, getting closer with every passing second. Her heart hammered in her chest.

Please please please please-

“Rafe, please…” she whispered under her breath, her voice barely audible as her body tensed again, the fear settling deep into her bones.

He didn’t need to ask. He could feel the change in her instantly- the way her body stiffened, the way her breath hitched with a renewed urgency. Her panic was coming back, sharper now, harder to suppress. He shuffled slightly closer, still careful not to overstep any boundaries which would trigger the girl, as he whispered her name trying to keep her grounded, but it wasn’t working. She was hyperventilating now, her chest constricting as she struggled to breathe through the overwhelming anxiety and fear. Her vision blurred at the edges, and she felt dizzy, detached from everything except the sharp, overwhelming pain that coursed through her and the thought that everything was falling apart around her.

“Y/N, hey, look at me,” Rafe said, his voice soft but firm as he tried to catch her eyes “Breathe. Come on, you need to breathe, princess. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Please stop calling me that

Her breath came in rapid, shallow bursts, and her hands were shaking as they gripped her thighs, her nails digging into her skin. She could feel the pressure in her chest, the tightness that wouldn’t release, as the sound of those boots grew louder, closer. Shoupe walked in, making the floorboards creak beneath him as he stepped inside. His eyes immediately locked on the scene before him: Cooper, unconscious on the floor. 

Y/N felt her entire body go cold at the sight of the sheriff. She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t want to look at anyone, she felt ashamed. She was so tired- she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force the tears away, but it was useless. The panic was too much, and she could hear herself sobbing, the sound raw and desperate.

“What in the hell happened here?” 

Shoupe's voice called out, his tone a mix of confusion and frustration as he looked at the scene before him. Rafe’s expression hardened, his jaw clenching as he turned toward the sheriff, he could feel Y/N’s cries seeping through him. 

“I didn’t do this,” Rafe muttered, his voice low and defensive as he met the sheriff’s gaze. 

“Cooper he…” 

He trailed off, his eyes flicking to Y/N, he wasn’t sure what he was doing... 

What the fuck am I supposed to say? 

Don’t say it

Shoupe looked between Cooper and Y/N, the blood and the bruises on her face, the visible signs of trauma. His eyes flickered back to Rafe, then to Sarah, who was standing in the doorway, her face a picture of concern. 

It was clear that no one had a good answer to what had happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room was quiet now, the chaos of moments before replaced with the steady, measured voices of the paramedics as they worked on Y/N. She sat still, her body sore and exhausted, her mind still spinning with the memories of everything that had just happened. The paramedics were gentle with her, trying to assess her injuries without causing further pain, they’d already cleaned up the blood from her face and checked for any other signs of trauma, their movements swift and practiced as they worked efficiently.

Rafe sat next to her, his hand resting on her arm, offering what little comfort he could. His eyes were focused on her, but his attention also flickered toward the corner where Shoupe, Topper, Kelce, and Sarah were talking quietly. He could hear snippets of their conversation, the low hum of murmurs drifting through the air. Every so often, one of them would sigh or shake their head, this whole situation being something none of them wanted to face.

Sarah stood a little apart from the group, arms crossed, looking at the ground as she processed the gravity of what had just happened. Her eyes flickered to Y/N for a moment, but she quickly looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the sight of her, even more so with the knowledge of how much pain she was in.

Shoupe’s voice followed, a tone of regret in his words. He sounded almost apologetic, but his authority still carried the weight of someone who had seen too much and wasn’t quite used to witnessing this level of violence from people he knew personally. 

“I don’t want to do this, but… I have to.”

Y/N’s eyes were closed now, her face emotionless, she could hear the conversations, the occasional sighs of disbelief, but it felt distant. Her head ached, her body ached, and she was exhausted in a way she had never known before. She nodded slowly when one of the paramedics asked her something, her body so heavy it felt like she could barely move. Her breath came in shallow measured intervals, her voice barely above a whisper as she responded to their questions.

I'm so tired

Rafe offered the occasional smile or reassuring nod when the paramedics addressed her, trying to keep her grounded in the moment. She didn’t speak much more, not even when the paramedic asked her about the pain. She simply shook her head. There were too many emotions swirling inside of her- too many things she wasn’t ready to voice.

“We’re going to take care of you, okay?” One of the paramedics said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We’re going to take you to the hospital, get you checked out.”

Y/N nodded weakly, her eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again, the coolness of the paramedic’s hand against her skin felt soothing, but it didn’t stop the constant, nagging thought in the back of her mind- the reminder that things weren’t going to go back to normal. 

From the corner, Rafe could hear more murmurs from the group. Topper, Kelce, and Sarah were still talking, their voices a little more animated now, though there was a sense of heaviness in the air. Rafe could sense the tension between them, the way they all seemed to know what had happened, but no one knew what to say next. No one could quite wrap their heads around the situation that had unfolded.

“Rafe, man, if you didn't kill him after what he did then I…” Kelce started, but he trailed off, glancing toward the paramedics who were still working on Y/N. There was no easy way to finish that sentence. They all knew what had happened, but it wasn’t something anyone wanted to openly discuss. 

Not now, not in front of her

Sarah’s gaze was still fixed on the floor, but she glanced up at Rafe, her eyes filled with something close to sadness. 

“Is she going to be okay?”

Topper’s voice cut through the quiet, his tone serious but there was a tone of hesitance under the facade, the girl was like his sister and he didn’t know how to react. His eyes weren’t on the Y/n, but on the paramedics, trying to gauge how dire the situation really was. The paramedic replied, her voice professional but with a hint of concern. 

“She needs to be seen by a doctor. There’s some... - trauma, and we need to make sure she’s stable.”

The paramedics and Rafe helped Y/N slowly to her feet, the movement slow and careful as they supported her fragile form. She could barely hold herself up, her body shaking, a low wince escaping her lips as the pain between her thighs flared up. She didn’t want to show it, but the agony was almost too much to bear, and her breath hitched in the process. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, trying to push through the pain. The paramedics exchanged a glance, a subtle shift in their eyes that Y/N didn’t catch, but Rafe did. One of them spoke quietly, though not loudly enough for her to hear.

“We’ll give her a minute,” the paramedic murmured, her voice low but firm. They moved away from Y/N and Rafe, walking toward Shoupe, speaking in hushed voices. Y/N could barely focus on what they were saying, her head still spinning from the overwhelming pain and fear. She leaned heavily against Rafe, her body shaking slightly, trying to steady herself. He looked down at her, concern flashing in his eyes as he gently cupped her shoulder, holding her steady.

“You okay?” 

Obviously she's not idiot

He asked softly, his voice a little rough, though gentle. The sound of it grounded her for a second, giving her something to hold onto in the chaos of her mind. Y/N sniffled softly, her eyes glossy with unshed tears as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Her voice was barely a whisper, a tremor lacing her words.

“Hurts.” 

She managed to say, her voice cracking slightly, her body was so weak, she couldn’t seem to find the strength to do anything more than breathe, and even that felt like a struggle. Rafe nodded, a simple, wordless acknowledgment of her pain. His gaze softened as he stayed by her side, letting her lean against him, offering his steady presence. 

Her body felt like it was made of lead, and she could barely keep her eyes open as Rafe guided her toward the stairs. As they reached the door, the house was eerily quiet. The loud music and laughter from the party were long gone, replaced by an uncomfortable silence. The lights were dim, the place now abandoned.

The cool night air hit her, and she winced, feeling her body react to the change in temperature. The ambulance was parked right outside the house, its lights flashing in a rhythmic pattern, casting eerie shadows over the driveway. Rafe led Y/N to the open doors of the ambulance, and with careful precision, he helped her inside. She barely reacted, her mind too numb to feel anything beyond the persistent ache in her body, she whimpered as she sat down, causing the boy to grit his teeth.

Rafe sat beside Y/N, his body leaning slightly toward hers but not touching her, trying to provide the comfort she so desperately needed. She was quiet now, her breathing slow as the two of them were left in an uncomfortable silence. Her body trembled, her mind still reeling from the night. Rafe watched her closely, his hand gently moving over to try and rest on hers, fingers hovering but not quite touching. She met his gaze, he could feel her anxiety pulsing through the air, 

“You’re gonna be okay” 

He whispered, his voice low and soothing, trying to calm her down. He could see the way she stiffened, she didn’t respond, but after a moment, she moved her hand towards his which was resting on the bed. Her fingers trembled, but she intertwined them between his cautiously. Rafe froze slightly in surprise of her actions but he squeezed her fingers between his softly, offering her a sense of stability.

I love you, I'm sorry

For the first time in what felt like hours, Y/N managed the smallest of smiles, so faint it was almost imperceptible, but Rafe saw it, and it made something in his chest tighten. They sat there in silence, their eyes locked for a moment. It was strange, comforting even, just to be there together, without words but before either of them could say anything more, the silence was broken by someone clearing their throat.

They both looked over and saw Shoupe standing there, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. His expression wasn’t one of anger, but it was far from calm. He stood, his sheriff’s hat in his hands, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration.

“Listen, I really don’t want to do this, alright?” Shoupe began, his voice deep and weary, though there was a tone of regret in his words.

“But I gotta follow the regulations.”

Y/N’s heart began to race, and confusion flashed across her face as she looked between Rafe and the sheriff. She couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Rafe bit the inside of his mouth, the weight of what was coming slowly sinking in. He didn’t want to look at Y/N, not now- not when he saw the panic beginning to build in her eyes.

Rafe knew what he was about to say. “Rafe, son…” Shoupe’s voice softened just a bit.

“You’re going to have to come with me.”

What?

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening as the realization hit her like a cold wave. Her eyes widened as panic spread through her body. Her fingers tightened around Rafe’s hand, her grip desperate.

“What?”  her voice was trembling. “No… you can’t do that—”

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Shoupe said, his tone not unkind, but firm. “But the law’s the law. I’m just doing my job.”

Sarah, having noticed the change in Y/N’s demeanor, rushed over and she gently placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down, “it’s okay.” she said, her voice soft but reassuring.

Shoupe sighed heavily, his expression sympathetic as he looked down at Y/N.

“Look, if he did the right thing, you’ve got nothing to worry about. He’ll be out soon, alright? He won’t be gone long.”

But Y/N didn’t seem to hear him. She was shaking her head, tears threatening to spill as she looked up at Rafe, her eyes wide with panic.

“No, please don’t leave-” she whispered, her voice breaking, “Please I-” the words got caught in her throat.

I can’t do this without you

Rafe looked down at her, his jaw tight as he fought to keep his emotions in check. He didn’t want to leave but he had no choice, he had to face the consequences. His gaze softened as he spoke,

“I’ll come see you at the hospital, yeah?” he promised, his voice steady, though there was a quiet sadness behind the words because he knew it was a lie. He'd be lucky if his dad could even find a was to bribe him out of this.

“You’ve got Sarah, she’ll be with you the whole time.”

Y/N nodded, but the fear in her eyes didn’t dissipate. She reached for his hand again properly this time, gripping it with everything she had left. Rafe paused for a moment, then raised their conjoined hands, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand.

He reluctantly let her hand go, and as he stood, he met Shoupe’s gaze. The sheriff gave a small, nod, and Rafe turned to leave, casting one last glance at Y/N as he was escorted away, the lights of the police car flickering against his face.

The door to the ambulance closed, and Y/N felt the weight of everything crash down on her all over again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @evermorx89 @bellaed1t @user381953 @lovemanheim @loves0phelia @yourcrackleflame @kundaquarius @matthewswifeyy @pillowprincess4him @lilithblackkk @sunny1616 @slut-4-gojo @louxmcl @stelleduarte @p0gue420

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Gale Poorly Explains: Epic The musical

Troy saga

Odysseus: We are going to reverse piñata these bitches. Then I’m going home to my wife and son.

(Proceeds to kick ass)

Odysseus: (gets a vision) What in Hades was that?

Zeus: need you to stab something.

Odysseus: Cool

(Breaks into a nursery)

Odysseus: You want me to kill this baby?!

Zeus: Yep! He will grow up and kill your family if you don’t. Good luck with your mental health after this.

Odysseus: (sings about being a guy before dropping the baby out the window)

Odysseus: I may have some PTSD

Eurylochus: I’m going to be a Massive pain later btw, I’m hungry.

Odysseus: Stealth mission on the island. Polites you’re with me.

Polites: I’m just covered in death flags.

(Later)

Polites: you should be more receptive

Odysseus: Maybe you’re right… but not with these guys.

(Athena appears)

Athena: Bitch did I just catch you feeling things again? You’re a warrior of the mind.

Odysseus: Yes I remember the flashback.

(Go to cave to get food)

Cyclops Saga

Polyphemus: why you invading my cave and killing my sheep?!

Odysseus: S*** man. Our bad. The name is nobody. Have some wine as an apology.

Polyphemus:(chugs it) Thanks… now I kill you.

(Polyphemus proceeds to go clubbing)

Polites: Oh no my death flags… (gets killed)

Eurylochus: So we killing that cyclops?

Odysseus: No… we are blinding him, stealing his sheep and then I’m doxxing myself.

Athena: What the f***?! I am leaving. You are too emotional.

Odysseus: This is why you have no friends!

Athena:… F*** you… you man! (Leaves)

(A storm approaches)

Storm Saga

Odysseus: probably unrelated to the cyclops but oh look! Sky islands!

Eurylochus: Captain… I think maybe we should NOT mess with the gods anymore.

Odysseus: Eurylochus, I get your concern… but don’t undermine me again.

Aeolus: Yo, I put the storm in this bag. You should be good. Just don’t have anyone open it.

Odysseus: No worries. I completely trust my crew and they wouldn’t be mutinous enough to disobey my order

(The crew proceeds to prove him wrong)

Poseidon: Oh look, it’s Odysseus of Ithaca. The guy who blinded my son.

Odysseus:… F***! The storm was related.

Poseidon: Killing your fleet.

Odysseus: Because I DIDNT kill your son?

Poseidon: Yep! Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves

(Wipes out fleet)

Odysseus: Seriously? What the f***!?

Poseidon: Your turn now

Odysseus: Lol nope! (Opens wind bag to release rest of the storm.

(Lands on Circe’s island)

Circe Saga

Eurylochus: Captain… I need to tell you

Odysseus: Eury… not now. Go scout or something.

(Eurylochus leaves then comes back)

Eurylochus: Men are pigs.

Odysseus: That’s a rude thing to say sure they have some crass

Eurylochus: No. A witch turned them into pigs.

Odysseus: oh… well damn.

Hermes: Hey Odysseus, want to fight Circe?

Odysseus: Ballin.

(Proceeds to go fight Circe, nearly wins)

Circe: How about I let you tap this ass (secretly holding knife)

Odysseus: Look, you are hot. But I have a wife who I’m an unapologetic simp for.

Circe: Damn, I can’t kill you. But I will send you to the underworld.

Odysseus: Wait… isn’t that the same thing?

(So Odysseus and his crew are restored and sent to the underworld.)

Underworld Saga

Odysseus: Sure is Undertale Genocide route up in here.

Polites: Catch phrase.

Anticlea: Dying… Odysseus I’m your mother and I died waiting.

Odysseus: I am going to need so much therapy later.

Tiresias: Vague Spoilers! Also your wife with a man who is a total monster

Odysseus: WHOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tiresias: Good luck bitch. (Leaves)

Odysseus: Maybe I need to be a monster

(They leave the underworld)

Thunder saga

Syren: Odysseus, it’s me your wife. You should jump in the water

Odysseus: But Penelope… I’m just a sexy little baby.

Syren: please?

Odysseus: Okay, but only if you tell me how to get to Ithaca by avoiding Poseidon.

Syren: (gives directions) now jump in

Odysseus: (goes from UwU to 🔪🔪🔪)

Odysseus: BTW we captured your friends.

Syren: WTF

Odysseus: Sashimi time

(Slaughters them)

Odysseus: To the lair of Scylla

Eurylochus: Hey Captain… I need to tell you something…

Odysseus: Eurylochus have the crew light up 6 torches

Eurylochus: I opened the wind bag!

Odysseus: … Make sure you’re holding one of the torches.

Scylla: Oh boy free eats.

(Eats 6 people)

Eurylochus: Did you just sacrifice 6 of our friends?!

Odysseus: You are litterally the LAST person who gets to judge.

(Mutiny occurs)

Eurylochus: I’m hungry. Oh look cows.

Odysseus: You idiot don’t touch the cows. They are the sun god’s!

(The cow was killed)

Zeus: So I heard you like killing cattle. Great news I love flexing on mortals.

Odysseus: Damn it Eurylochus…

Zeus: Alright Odysseus, you get to choose. You or your crew.

Odysseus: Me. I miss my wife.

Eurylochus: Seriously?

Odysseus: You Litterally caused a mutiny a few hours ago. You guys ain’t s***

Zeus: Welp. Time to Bolt

(Kills everyone but Odysseus)

Wisdom Saga

(8 year time skip)

Telemachus: Yo what up everyone. I’m the lovable son of Odysseus. He’s been missing for a while and now we got an infestation of Simps.

Antinous: You brat, where’s your hot mom?

Telemachus: Stop objectifying my mom.

Antinous: What you gonna do about it champ?

(Proceeds to get in a fist fight)

Telemachus: I could really use some help?

Athena: Did somebody need help?

Telemachus: A Friend?!

Athena: Uppercut that bitch.

(Telemachus proceeds to lose but did put up a decent fight)

Telemachus: You are my best friend now.

Athena: I would bury myself for you.

Telemachus: So you mentioned another friend of yours. You should go help him too.

Athena: Yea… I should. I wonder what he’s been up to

(Sees everything he’s been up to including getting captured by calypso)

Calypso: I’m a hot goddess. How are you not begging me to bone?

Odysseus: I miss my wife.

(Is borderline suicidal)

Athena: Crap… it’s worse than I thought.

Zeus: Wait… you want us to intervene on behalf of a mortal? We are gods. We don’t do that

Athena: That is Litterally ALL you do. And usually disguised as animals so you can…

Zeus: (changing subject) Okay okay! Let’s make it a game. Convince these gods to release him and me. Then I’ll release him.

Apollo: He killed the Syrens. I liked their songs.

Athena: They started it, and now the other Syrens will be more careful

Apollo: Fair point. Release him.

Hephaestus: He sacrificed his crew.

Athena: They betrayed him first, and if he is freed he will Rebuild his life.

Hephaestus: Okay fair, Release him.

Aphrodite: His mother died waiting for him.

Athena: The War was your f***ing fault!

Ares: Nice try. (Buts in)

Athena: Ares you cheapshotting bastard.

Area: He mocked the cyclops but didn’t kill him, used cowardly tactics. He’s pathetic and weak like his son!

Athena: (rage mode activated) HOLD YOUR TONGUE! Don’t insult my boy!

(Kicks ares ass)

Athena: Odysseus will slaughter all the suitors, and tell your whore of a girlfriend broken hearts can mend.

Ares and Aphrodite: Release him.

Hera: Give me one good reason.

Athena: He’s never cheated in his wife.

Hera: (glares at Zeus) Release him immediately.

Athena: I won your game.

Zeus: Ah but you forget… I’m a petty bitch! (Strikes her with lightning)

Athena: (badly hurt) Please… release him.

(And it’s implied he did)

Vengence Saga

Calypso: I’m not sorry for loving you.

Odysseus: You kept me here against my will for 8 years. Whatever emotions I feel towards you are Stockholm syndrome at best. Later.

(Hermes appears)

Hermes: Ready for one last ride?

Odysseus: Bring it!

(Proceeds to have a dance number with Hermes and get passed Charybdis)

Odysseus: I’m finally home.

Poseidon: Bitch you thought.

Odysseus: No, I am not dealing with this today.

Poseidon: Get in the water!

Odysseus: 600 Strike!

(Cue anime fight)

Poseidon: You may have won by some miracle… but now that storm blocks your way home. Sucks to be you.

Odysseus: No… sucks to be you.

(Odysseus proceeds to penetrate Poseidon with his trident until the god begs for mercy)

Poseidon: How will you sleep at night.

Odysseus: Next to my wife. On a mattress from Mattressfirm! Save 100 dollars on your next purchase with the code f***youposeidon.

(Now at Ithaca)

Ithaca saga

Penelope: Welp, I’ve stalled as long as I could with the Loom. Time to use the bow stall challenge.

The suitors: It’s impossible! No one could string this bow.

Penelope: Skill issue, call me when someone does.

(Hours later)

Antinous: F*** this! Let’s just go kill her son and then open her bedroom door and [Redacted)

(Gets killed by arrow)

Odysseus: I’m killing all of you now.

Suitors: We need to get weapons:

Telemachus: I’m back, and you guys should just surrender now.

Suitors: Are you nuts, your father will kill us anyway. (Proceeds to attack son.

Odysseus: Oh I’m going to kill you guys even harder now.

(Brutally kills all the suitors)

Telemachus: Daddy?

Odysseus: Son?

(Cue hug)

Odysseus: I’m so proud of you. Now go tell your mother I’m home. I’ll be there in a moment.

Telemachus: I will. (Heads off to tell mom)

Odysseus: So Athena, you gonna say hi or…

Athena: You may have been right about being merciful.

Odysseus: Nah, you were right. And btw, I’m gonna retire from this warrior business. I only want to see my wife. I’m too old for this s***

(Prepares to see wife)

Penelope: Is that you my love?

Odysseus: I changed a Lot over the years… I’m not the same. But could you fall in love with me again maybe?

Penelope: I see… move our wedding bed then.

Odysseus: WTF that is Rooted to the ground. I made that bed with my hands! How can you ask that.

Penelope: Only my husband knew that. So you are him!

Odysseus: Oh…

Penelope: I will fall in love with you every single time. No matter where or when.

Odysseus: (crying) Penelope!

Penelope: Now get your ass over here! I’ve waited 20 years for you and momma has needs.