#but he's extremely normal about all of this
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yukioos · 2 days ago
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LIKE A TATTOO
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SUMMARY: hwang in-ho x wife reader // you came to the island with your husband to help him out with the new games. as you took a moment for yourself, reading a book in your shared bed, a fist knocked on your door. the guard escorted you to the observation room, where in-ho was. the two of you drink bourbon and make out, not paying much attention to the games.
AUTHORS NOTE: hi! this is my first squid game oneshot, i hope u like it! i’m still working on arcane ones so dw im not abandoning the requests. i’ll most likely start taking requests for squid game characters as well. might make a part 2 if people like this. this is 1.7k words
WARNINGS: not proofread, blood, guns, murder (players sabotaging n pushing each other in red light green light), making out, drinking
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the frontman sat on a plush, luxurious seat in his private, sound-proof room. a player who won the game three years ago had come back to compete, supposedly to avenge all the people he lost. outside the window, the players were engaging in their first game; red light, green light, the first game.
he hadn’t had much time for himself as he was constantly busy overlooking the games and creating new ones. it was as if his work was perpetual, as if he was meant to be the frontman for the rest of his life. he later considered settling down with you, the love of his life. but he couldn’t leave the games behind, it was part of his life, of course. he was extremely against giving the role of the frontman to anyone, as there was no one he would expect to run the games properly and orderly.
you knew about his feelings about the games, and how he wanted to quit but he was terrified of being caught. of you being caught. it wasn’t that you personally killed any of the players, no, but you knew who was running it, knew him like the back of your hand. that made you an accomplice, and he was scared for your life, he didn’t want you to become too wrapped up in his troubles.
that, of course, was quickly dismissed as soon as you became his spouse. when he told you about his job, and how he needed to leave for a business trip, you asked if you could come with him. he hesitated, and it took him days to decide if it was safe enough for you to spend around two years there, with him. he needed to create new games to entertain the VIPs, so he could use some help from his creative wife, and you had been begging to see what his job was like ever since you married.
so you assisted him in creating designs for the games and a new addition in between games, the possibility to leave the games and split the money. however, this would be the first game you would watch. you were nervous, not sure what to expect, but your husband had secretly hoped you’d be impressed by the first game, and hopefully the next ones as well.
the emptiness on the couch saddened him. he wondered why he felt so uncomfortable alone, in the room where he had idly watched the games he ran. it was too quiet. but he missed your touch, the sound of your breathing, your pulse, and your heartbeat.
he tapped his finger against the armrest before slightly grinning. he clicked and held down a button on a stand, marked with a small, white square. he commanded, “bring my wife to the observation room.” he then grinned once he gained a reply, knowing someone had gotten the message.
you, on the other hand, were reading a book in your bedroom, bored out of your mind, as you didn’t know where your husband was. suddenly, a fist knocked hard on your door, three times. must’ve been a guard, as in-ho normally just walks into the room, as you both shared it.
you tilted your head slightly to the right, staring at the door before you placed a bookmark in between two pages. you wondered what it could be about. nothing important was happening today, right?
once you placed your hand on the cold doorknob and twisted it, you saw a tall worker in a pink jumpsuit standing in front of you. the square guard stated, “the frontman asked me to escort you to the observation room.” and stood still, eerily waiting for you to respond.
you mumbled, “um, okay,” then hesitated, as you stepped into your heels, “do you know why he asked me to go there?” he began walking, and you followed after him, heels clicking with every step you took.
the guard shook his head and walked a short distance, until he arrived in front of a bland, pink door. you shook in anticipation, giddy to see your husband again. the guard knocked his fist on the door, then after a couple of seconds, opened it and held the door open for you.
you bowed your head as a thank you and shot him a gentle smile. he bowed back and closed the door, causing you to turn around. you quickly noticed the room was padded, most likely a soundproof room. two doors were lining the sides of the walls, leading to a larger space, where your husband was watching a doll place her hand on something. he sat on the left side of the double seat, next to a coffee stand. a bright chandelier hung above him, lighting up the room.
did he invite you so you could watch the first game together?
he felt your stare on him and smirked to himself. he asked, without turning around, “are you going to come up and sit down, honey? wouldn’t want your legs to hurt from standing for so long.” he smiled once he heard you shudder from feeling nervous. he always knew what you felt like, even if you didn’t know yourself.
you slowly traveled to the spot next to him, looking at him up and down, eyeing his all-black outfit. you sat next to him, thighs touching as you noticed his black mask to conceal his identity. two glasses sat next to one another on the coffee table, a subtle reminder that he was always thinking about you. a bottle of bourbon was placed on the table next to the glasses, which your husband began to pour into the small glasses. he handed you yours first and stared at you for a moment.
you crumbled under his intimidating gaze, rarely having the ability to know what he was feeling. you wiped your lip with your index, asking, “do— do i have something on my face?” your eyebrows furrowed in worry, not wanting to look bad in front of such a handsome man.
he mumbled, “no,” and continued to eye you up and down, as if he wanted to memorize every part of your body. glancing at your lips for a moment too long, he placed his hand on your thigh, caressing the skin uncovered by stockings. he couldn’t help but stare at your plump lips, wanting his on yours for eternity.
in-ho wouldn’t stop staring at your lips, but of course, you noticed. you tried to hold your grin back, heart pumping as his staring made you nervous. maybe catching him off guard would make him stop staring.
so you gently placed your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him into the kiss, eliciting a groan out of the man. even as you heard people talking from the game, he moved his hand down to your ass and placed both of his hands there, picking you up and placing you on his lap, not breaking away from the kiss.
you giggled into the kiss and cradled his face, rubbing your thumb on his cheek. the kiss was slow and passionate, as if both of you were trying to savor how the other felt in your hands, falling apart just for one another.
even as you heard an unfamiliar robot-like girl speaking, and the sounds of many footsteps running, you continued to move your lips against his. he ran his hand along your back, wishing he could feel you more through your soft fur coat. but you slowed your movements down, wanting to watch the game he had worked so hard on.
you slowly pulled away from him, causing him to needily chase your lips, wanting more. he gripped your thigh with want, you let out a small whimper, almost inaudible. as you rubbed his chest, he stared at your soft eyes, looking up at him as if he hung the stars and created the universe. he had never felt more loved than he had with you.
as soon as you sat back down on the couch, in-ho swiftly brought your legs up to his lap, gently taking your black heels off, wanting you to feel comfortable. he smiled at you after he gently placed them on the ground near the coffee table. his touch tickled your thighs, gently rubbing up and down as he watched the games from the window.
you suddenly heard a gunshot, making your eyes go wide as you tucked your knees more into yourself than him. he noticed the small movement and rubbed your calves, attempting to soothe you and your nerves. multiple guns fired, and people laid on the ground, blood pooling around their bodies, trying to run away from the doll.
in-ho clicked a remote, playing the song ‘fly me to the moon,’ which went with a model, containing toy singers that moved on beat. as the doll exclaimed, ‘green light!’ then ‘red light!’ no one dared to move a muscle. a player began to shout out commands, and the whole group quickly formed into lines at the next green light.
as the doll yelled, ‘red light!’ the leader of each line would halt first, and the last person in the line would stop last, however, the doll couldn’t detect their movements. it was a smart idea, you had to give them credit. your husband seemed displeased, however, as his hands halted, keeping his hands steady on your thighs. he sighed in frustration, but now it was time to soothe him. you grabbed his hand and held it, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand. he glanced at you and his eyes spoke for him, he wanted to say thank you, but was too frustrated to speak.
gunshots began to fire, due to players pushing one another, sabotaging each other, as humans were greedy and always wanted more. their own life was important to them, but they didn’t seem to care about taking the life of another, as it wasn’t theirs.
but in-ho unexpectedly turned to you and stated, “i’m participating in the games this time.”
your heart dropped.
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plethorawrites · 21 hours ago
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Jason Todd x Empath Reader (Because I love this idea)
Jason had barely made it through the door of the apartment before he collapsed onto the couch, his feet hanging off the end of it as he buried his face in a throw pillow with a tired groan.
You looked up from the pot you were stirring in the kitchen, glancing over at him. "Long day?" He just groaned again into the pillow. "Did you want to take a nap before we eat dinner?"
Sometimes, when he was extremely tired, he would take a power nap before you ate, just to avoid falling asleep during the meal. You never minded much, since you knew he had a hard job and it wore him out.
All he did was raise a hand, waving it dismissively. Was that a yes or a no? You weren't quite sure, but probably thought he was refusing the offer, as he often did, since he felt guilty for coming home and falling asleep immediately instead of spending time with you.
Despite his best efforts, he slipped into a state of slumber quite quickly, even though he tried to fight it off, telling himself he would only rest his eyes for a moment before getting up to give you a kiss like he always did.
A few moments later, when dinner was nearly ready, you heard the sound of something getting kicked and peered over towards where he was resting. "Jay?"
No response.
Turning the burner down, you walked over to the couch where he was sleeping, not well, at that. He was thrashing, the way he often did, one of his legs hanging off the couch, occasionally kicking the coffee table when his body jumped.
"Jay," you repeated, a bit firmer, shaking him awake.
He bolted straight up, breathing heavily. His hand gripped the pillow until it was white while he looked around, trying to recognize his surroundings.
His gaze eventually landed on you and his breathing slowed. "Baby?"
You knelt by the couch, taking his hand in yours. "You okay?" You asked gently, as to not elicit any strong emotions from him by accident.
Jason hesitated to answer, not wanting to lie to you but hating to admit the truth as well. "I- I guess," he muttered, his grip on your hand tightening. He scrubbed his face with his spare hand, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "I'm sorry for falling asleep," he apologized, leaning forward to place a small kiss on your lips.
You frowned slightly, resting your forehead against his. "It's fine," you assured him. "Are you hungry?"
Yes.
He was absolutely starving.
And as an added bonus, he wouldn't have to talk about his feelings or dreams for a while.
Jason nodded, loosening his grip on your hand ever so slightly before standing up, draping his hand around your waist and following you into the kitchen.
He knew you liked to know about how he was feeling; you constantly asked and he appreciated that you would take the time to let him try to vocalize feelings he used to ignore or invalidate. But he also knew that if he let you, you would use your powers on him every chance you could to help him sleep or bring him peace of mind, at your own expense.
Jason couldn't let you do that. So, he would rarely, if ever take advantage of your gifts. Instead, he would talk your ear off when he, very rarely, felt emotional enough to talk. And he would show you how he felt as often as possible.
After dinner, he laid down in bed beside you, pulling you close to him, like normal, resting his hand on your back and burying his face in your hair, kissing the top of your head. He never felt safer than when he was holding you and could feel you holding him back, with your arm wrapped around his waist and your head resting on his chest, listening to his heart beat through his shirt.
Unfortunately, his subconscious got scary when he was asleep and the normal comfort he felt disappeared when he began to dream, feeling like you were slipping away from him.
In his dreams, you left him. In his dreams, he died over and over and no one stood at his grave. In his dreams, he lost everything, everyone.
Jason woke up to you shaking him again, practically shouting his name to try to get him to open his eyes. He had broken out in a cold sweat, tossing and turning until all the pillows had fallen off the bed and he'd basically stolen the entire blanket from you.
"I'm sorry," were the first words out of his mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." He was out of breath, panting as he buried his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry. Please don't leave."
You dragged his hands away from his face, taking his chin in between your fingers and forcing him to look at you. "Jay, talk to me," you pleaded quietly, laying your head on his shoulder as he caught his breath. "Just tell me what you saw."
He exhaled, his fingers curling around the sheets. "You left me," he said, staring down at the bed. "I died again and you di- you moved on. You didn't even visit my grave."
Your heart broke.
"You know I'd never do that," you insisted with conviction. "Never."
If he died, you wouldn't move on. You couldn't. You wouldn't just visit his grave, you'd probably live at it. No piece of your heart wanted to even think about loving someone else. Ever.
Jason swallowed harshly. "I know," he whispered, trying to believe you. "I just...my subconscious doesn't."
You squeezed his shoulder, running your hand back and forth, trying to ease some of the tension in his neck. "Please let me make it better," you begged.
"No," Jason replied without hesitation.
He wouldn't let himself rely on your powers. He loved you. Not for your ability to lull him to sleep, but because you were his partner, the person he wanted to see every morning and every night, who brought a smile to his face and made him feel safe just by existing.
"Jason—"
"I said no!" He exclaimed. "I'm not using you. I'm not going to sleep while you stay up to let me."
You paused, seeing him tense even more. He hadn't meant to snap and you both knew it.
"You're not using me," you stated calmly. "And I can sleep anytime. Please just let me help you rest. Just for a few hours."
You were desperate for him to sleep. He looked exhausted, miserable, even. It hurt you almost as much to see him deny himself what could help as it did for him to constantly refuse your offer.
His jaw set and you could see him thinking it though.
"Please," you repeated in a soft whisper.
He finally caved. Nodding he sighed heavily, laying down. "No more than three or four hours."
That's all he really needed to function, anyway.
You nodded, laying down with him, seamlessly falling into his strong arms, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala, clinging to him for your own comfort as much as his.
The tension slowly dissipated from his body as he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping your body tightly as he buried his face in your neck, taking a deep breath and trying not to feel guilty.
A few seconds passed and he suddenly felt his anger, his sadness, his pain, all subsided until all he felt was peace and calm. Not to mention love. A lot of love. To a nearly unfathomable point.
Within seconds he was falling asleep in your arms, humming and mumbling incoherently while nuzzling your neck as you stroke his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails.
Three or four he said. You agreed.
You still stayed up all night, only allowing yourself to fall asleep once the sun rose and he got eight full hours of sleep for the first time since the last time he let you use your powers on him.
He'd be annoyed, you knew and he wanted to complain, tell you not to sacrifice your sleep for his but when he woke up, you were already asleep, still clinging to him. So, he let his arms tighten around you again, laying there, letting you sleep, like you let him.
A relationship was give and take, he knew. He felt terrible for taking too much, so he would give you this. For as long as he could. Even if his arms were numb.
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hatsbuckets · 2 days ago
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TF 141 x Reader - Shower Hide Out
Short Version: You're a member of 141. Mission's over. The boys come hide while you're taking a shower. (Hide? Hide from what?)
WC: ~1300
Pairings: (implied) TF141 x (afab) reader | teensy weensy Ghost x Soap
Warnings: none? (nudity ig, but nobody does or sees anything,) extremely brief mention of drowning. (lmk if I need to add)
A/N: my first little cod fic I'm posting! teehee. Just something cute and domestic and simple that I thought of while showering. LMAO I did this instead of writing my thesis today so plz enjoy. More like this maybe to come?
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It was late and a shower was long overdue.
You were grateful to finally be at a place where you could shower. It'd been days out on a mission and the sight of the little house was like heaven on Earth. Laswell had gotten it together, and you all met her there with little ceremony, but plenty of thanks. You each made sure each of you were good and not dying before sitting in with Kate.
You always got a little protective over the boys after the high stress, near-death-experiences you go through together. And they were the same with you, and each other, in their own little ways. Sometimes you weren't sure why, but you rolled with it. Soap always made a point to talk with you, helping you and himself destress. Ghost made sure you weren’t hurt, you would do the same, then he’d say something about getting better. You and Gaz liked to eat together, making sure you were both fed. Price was quiet, bringing you tea or coffee in the later hours, but never quiet enough to avoid a bit of banter. Sometimes it was a hearty combination of them all at the same time, and sometimes it was just one or two. Whatever it was, you were grateful. 
This current mission had resulted in you and Johnny both nearly drowning to death, but you were okay, and so was he. Naturally, it left all parties a little on edge. Soap didn’t shut up the whole drive to safety, keeping spirits light while Ghost and Gaz tried to keep the two of you from freezing to death. Laswell was worried too. She insisted, in her stoic way, on getting you all safe and rested for a bit before moving forward.
This wasn't the first time you'd all holed up in a small house, and it wouldn't be the last, but it was definitely one of the quieter nights of the five of you together. Laswell and Price wasted little time before discussing and debriefing. The rest of you were hardly as interested, tired mostly, but pulled in all the same.
Finally, they let you head up to the shower first, even though Johnny was shaking from the chill of still being in damp clothes.
"Go on, lass," he had chattered. "I'll b-be just fine."
Ghost had to force another towel around him before you were satisfied.
Upstairs, you twisted the shower on, letting the heat steam as you undressed. You peeled away a still damp uniform and even damper socks. Ew.
You'd need a full body scrub down to feel better.
You stepped in, pulling the curtain closed and letting the hot water soak through your hair and warm you to the bone. It hurt a little at your toes, the way warm water does as blood rushes around you again. You started with shampoo, lathering your hair intentionally, but not in a hurry.
As you rinsed you swore you heard the door creak. Then a relaxed sigh confirmed your suspicion.
"Soap?" You guessed quietly.
The Scot hummed in response.
You didn't mind. It wouldn't be the first time he'd stood by while you showered. Though normally it was because neither of you wanted whatever intriguing discussion you were having to be interrupted. Another of those weird little, post-mission comforts. This was just him, sitting quietly, enjoying the warmth of the steamed washroom.
You heard him kick his boots off as you put conditioner in your hair. Then another sound of the door hinges. At first you thought he'd left-weirdo, just drop your boots and leave- but then you realized from a mumbling grunt that he had not left.
You heard the shuffling of movement and the quietest unidentifiable remark from Soap, and then just the sound of the water again.
"Soap?" You asked, confirming if the man was still there.
He hummed again. "Still 'ere. Got some company too."
If you had to guess, it was probably Ghost. You could imagine him plopped down on the floor at Soap's feet, leaning against the man's legs. Again, it didn't bother you as you rinsed the product from your hair. Ghost had seen you roughed up, helped patch you up enough that his presence couldn't bother you. You'd done a bit of the same for him. Those weird little comforts.
Knowing they were on the other side of the dark curtain, dirty and wet and tired, but alive settled a bit of the hammer of worry in your chest. It warmed you from the inside as much as the water on the outside.
The door hinges creaked again, announcing another arrival. You were grinning now.
"Captain scare ya off, Gaz?" Ghost teased.
There was a moment where he didn't respond. "This is just the warmest room in the house, with how much water she's using."
You laughed lightly as you lathered up. Whatever he was in here for you also didn't mind. You trusted Kyle with your life, and with the times he's seen you drunk after celebratory bar nights, you couldn't chase him off now. Those little comforts.
Before you could rinse off, the door creaked a fourth time. You thought maybe one of them had left. Maybe Kyle. But instead, you heard an unmistakable grumble.
"You moppets. Let the girl shower in peace." Price's voice was low but laced with a tease.
"And wot brings you 'ere, Captain?" Soap poked right back.
You rinsed yourself, a laugh escaping you as you thought about the four grown men occupying the small space. Little comforts. 
"What's so funny?" Ghost's voice was light, or at least as light as it could be when he wasn't too stressed.
"Are you all hiding from Kate?" You teased.
When your question was met with silence, you had your answer. Your laugh burst from you as you turned the water off. It subsided only as the chill of the air entered the isolated space as you extended your hand through the small gap between curtain and wall. There was a moment of shuffling and scrambling, then a towel landed in your hand.
"You'd be hidin' too if you were down there listening to her plans, that woman never rests," Soap's voice grumbled. It made you laugh again as you wrapped the towel around your body. You finally pulled open the curtain to the scene before you.
Like you'd guessed, Soap was seated on the toilet, boots off in the pile next to your own, his clothes still damp. Ghost was seated on the floor in front of him, still fully geared. Kyle had at least taken off his equipment in a different room, sitting on the floor against the sink counter. And Price, also still fully dressed, was leaning just inside the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
While the other men glanced away in their respectful little ways, Soap watched as you stepped out, earning a thump on the leg from Ghost.
"What?" Soap cried. "She's'not naked!"
You laughed, stepping over Ghost and Gaz's legs as you made your way to the door. You rested your free hand on Price's shoulder and his eyes met yours.
"Surely Kate's new ideas aren't that bad," you teased.
The man shrugged, a smile crinkling his eyes. "You can go find out."
You huffed a tiny laugh. You could feel all their eyes on you now, so you made a point to linger just a moment longer. "One of you start showering; you all smell."
You headed for your own room as Soap's gripes and protests hit your ears. You understood something along the lines of “wouldn’t if you’d not taken all the water.” You smiled to yourself. They were protective, always in that weird little way of theirs after the high stress, near-death-experiences you all go through together. Shared little weird-not weird, just your own-comforts to make sure you were all alive and well. And you wouldn't have it any other way.
Thanks for reading.
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wanders-in-wonderland · 12 hours ago
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Doctor’s Orders
“Miss, please follow me into the exam room.”
I look up to see a sweet nurse smile at me and wave me over. I smile back at her and stand up from the waiting room chair, following her through the doors of the clinic. She leads me into a standard exam room and after giving me quick instructions to take off my clothes and get comfortable, she leaves me, promising the doctor will be here to see me shortly.
I look around the sterile room, taking in framed stock images tastefully arranged along the walls and the stack of various medical pamphlets about STDs and safe sex. I take a deep breath and start to undress. I’ve waited so long to come see this doctor and I’m not going to let my nerves get the best of me now. The doctor I’m here to see is a specialist in anorgasmia, the inability to orgasm.
I’ve never been able to achieve orgasm, no matter what I’ve tried. Numerous partners have tried, I’ve purchased countless toys and lubricants, even going as far as trying hypnosis. Nothing has worked and I had almost given up hope when I’d stumbled across this doctor and his specialty.
It took months for me to get an appointment, and the screening process was incredibly intensive. Apparently, he’s extremely selective in the patients he chooses to see so when I got the call that he was willing to fit me into his schedule, I was ecstatic. Maybe I can finally say goodbye to my inability to orgasm.
A soft knock at the door startles me and I watch as the doctor opens the door and steps into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. He’s younger than I thought he’d be. I’d been picturing a middle-aged man, maybe with some greying hair and glasses. Instead, he’s handsome, fit, and I can see the sparkle in his eyes as he greets me cheerfully.
“Good afternoon! I’m sorry for the wait but I hope you’re comfortable! It is lovely to meet you.” His voice is smooth, comforting, and when I extend my hand out to shake his outstretched one, his touch is gentle but strong.
I smile back at him, feeling some of my previous anxiety fade away. “No worries at all, I’m happy to be here.”
I watch as he opens grabs a chair and sits in front of the computer, logging in to pull up my medical chart. “Now, let’s see here, you’re here for anorgasmia I see.” I feel my cheeks flush at the clinical way he’d said it and he catches my blush as he glances up from the computer screen.
He gives me a comforting smile, “Don’t be embarrassed. A lot more women experience anorgasmia than people think, and it’s something that we can fix. I promise, there is nothing to be embarrassed about here.”
I give him a small smile back, the sincerity in his words soothing me.
“Now, I know you filled out a very long questionnaire already and I’ve already reviewed that so we’re going to get right to a physical exam to start.” He pushes away from the computer and stands up, walking over to where I’m sitting on the exam table.
“Can you take off your bra and underwear for me, please?” I nod, steeling my nerves before following his instructions. My nipples immediately harden into peaks at the cold air of the exam room and I feel so exposed with my entire body naked in front of him.
He unhooks stirrups from the bottom of the exam table and clicks them into place. “Prop your feet into there for me and spread your legs,” his voice is purely professional and I do what he asks. Placing my feet into the stirrups leaves me completely exposed and a small shiver goes through me as cold air brushes against my core.
“Now lean back and look up at the ceiling for me. We’re going to start with just a simple physical exam to make sure everything is normal anatomically. Then, we’ll move on to a few other tests for sensation and sensitivity. If at any point you have questions or concerns, don’t hesitate to tell me, okay?” He looks at me with care and I nod back, feeling comforted by his words and clear attentiveness.
He rolls his chair to between my propped-up legs and takes a seat, facing me. “My hands are a little cold but don’t worry, we’ll warm up in no time.” I let out a gasp when his indeed cold hands come to rest on my thighs. His fingers are gentle as he brushes against my center, his movements confident as he pokes and prods around.
I stay still as I feel him gently pull me apart, letting cold air rush against my core and clit. I bite back a gasp at the sensation. I feel him press against my clit, maneuvering my clit hood out of the way to reveal the bud. A swipe of his finger against my exposed bundle of nerves makes me jolt and I let out a sharp gasp this time.
“Sorry! How did that feel?” He asks, his voice apologetic.
I take a second to gather myself before answering. “It felt intense. Good but almost a little overwhelming.”
“Hm, that’s good,” he says, “That means you have a fair amount of clitoral sensitivity. We’ll do a more in-depth examination later but it’s a good sign.”
I hear the scrape of his chair against the floor and glance up to see his standing. “I’m going to grab some lubricant and we’ll do an internal exam next.” I nod and watch as he squirts a dollop of lube onto his fingers.
He settles himself back in between my legs and I shiver at the cold feeling of the lube. He’s purely professional as he spreads the lube over me and slowly works a single finger into me. I bite my lip to tamp down any sounds I want to make.
“I’m going to test your g-spot next,” he says and I feel his finger crook upwards inside of me, brushing against the spongy clump of nerves inside of me. The sensation shoots through me and I led out a slow breath.
“That’s it, you’re doing really well. Tell me if anything hurts, okay?” His fingers scissor inside of me and I let out a soft whimper. “Does that feel good?” His voice comes out in a lower register than before. “Come on, use your words. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me how it feels.”
I whimper again, “Mm yes, it feels good.”
“Good, so you have no problems with vaginal arousal and lubrication,” he says, his voice almost a purr now. “Don’t hold back, we want to make sure you’re giving your full reaction to everything that’s happening to help me understand what’s happening here.”
At his words, I let out another whimper, feeling the slow drag of his fingers against the sensitive walls of my pussy. He presses his fingers against my g-spot again and my back arches as pleasure shoots through me.
“Tell me, is this level of sensitivity and sensation reflective of how you normally feel during intercourse?” I take a second to catch my breath and think before I answer him.
“I think so, I’m usually pretty sensitive to sensation, it just never seems to culminate into an orgasm. A lot of times, I get too overstimulated to continue and I can’t cum.”
“Hm, I see,” his voice takes on a more contemplative tone. He pulls his fingers out of me, and I almost want to whimper at the loss.
“Well, I have a few theories but I’m going to do a more hands-on test to get a clearer answer of what we’re dealing with here. Lie back for me and relax.”
I lean my head back, staring up at the ceiling of the room and I feel him walk away for a second. He reappears at my side for a moment, and suddenly, I feel something encircle my wrist and hear a click. I jerk in surprise, glancing down to see that he’d cuffed me down to the table. My eyes meet his and smiles at me.
“Don’t worry, this is just to keep you still during the examination. The less movement there is from you, the easier it is for me to do my job. If at any point, you feel uncomfortable, tell me and we’ll stop, okay?” His words soothe the panic that rose up in my chest at the idea of being restrained and I give my consent. He smiles at me and makes quick work of clicking my other wrist into a cuff. Next, my ankles are strapped down to the stirrups and my thighs held apart by more cuffs. There’s even one that goes around my waist to keep my torso still.
“Good, how do you feel? Are any of the restraints hurting you?”
I shake my head in response, “No, I’m okay.”
He smiles at me again and I watch him open a drawer from across the exam room. “We’re going to introduce some equipment to help me get a better gauge of what we’re dealing with here.” My eyes widen as I watch him pull out several industrial looking sex toys.
“Let’s start with clitoral stimulation,” he says, setting down the toys except for one. He shows me the toy, it looks almost like an electric toothbrush with a wider body and a very thin head. “This is a very precise vibrator. Most commercial vibrators people tend to purchase have a much larger surface area, which can be very good for folks who are highly sensitive in all areas, but it doesn’t offer much precision in targeting specific parts of the clitoris. This one doesn’t have that problem since it has a much smaller head. Now this one is also pre-set to have 10 very well-calibrated intensity settings. Depending on your reaction to each setting, I can make better conclusions about your clitoral sensitivity. We’re going to go through the settings from low to high and I want you to continue to be vocal and tell me what you’re feeling, okay?”
I nod, “Okay, but what if I get too overstimulated?”
He gives me a comforting smile, “Just tell me and we’ll stop and re-evaluate if it happens.”
I nod again and he sits back down between my legs to get started.
I hear the toy click on, presumably at the first level based on the low, quiet buzzing sound its emitting. I gasp when I feel his fingers gently pull my pussy apart to reveal my clit, already erect and throbbing from his earlier treatment.
A moan escapes from my throat when I feel the toy make first contact. It feels so much more intense than any other toy I’ve ever had. The precision of the toy and the ease in which he handles it means that the vibrations are pressed right against my exposed clit, forcing the collection of raw nerves to submit to the sensations.
“How’s that?” He asks, his voice making me scramble to get ahold of myself to give a coherent response. “It feels so intense but in a good way.”
“Good, that’s good. Just relax and let yourself feel.” He murmurs, keeping the vibrator pressed tightly against me.
My eyes drift shut as I feel the sensation overtake me. The pleasure is forming a haze around my mind, every thought getting chased away by the feeling between my legs.
I hear his voice again, “I’m going to increase to the second setting. Just stay relaxed for me.”
I let out a whimper in response as the toy clicks up a level. The pleasure intensifies but there’s also a building sensation of raw overstimulation that is starting to arise. We’re nearing the point where I would normally stop and take a break but I don’t want to tell him that yet. I want to let him keep going, because maybe today is the day I finally get to cum.
I bite back a whine and clench my fists at my sides.
“Increasing to level 3 now.” He says, resting a hand on my thigh as his other one holds the toy firmly against me. The increase this time makes a cry rip out of me and my eyes fly open to meet his.
“Ah- it’s so much, I’m getting overstimulated.” I whimper out, my hands clenching and unclenching in an effort to control myself. He nods but doesn’t make any move to pull the toy away or decrease the setting.
“Try and tough it out for me for a bit more, I want to see if we can overcome the overstimulation.” He gives me a comforting smile and gently pats my thigh.
I take a deep breath and nod, letting my eyes drift shut.
“Increasing to level 4 now,” he says and the vibrator switches to a higher intensity before I can protest.
“Wait! Wait, please, just give me a moment, please!” I gasp out as the sensations shoot through me entire body. He shakes his head, “You’re doing great, just relax and let it happen.”
I whine as tears are gathering in my eyes. I’m walking the very thin line of pain and pleasure as the vibrator forces breathtaking feeling onto me while riding my nerves to the sharp edges of overstimulation. I hear his voice again and my heart drops when I register his words. “Increasing to level 5.”
A scream bursts out of me as all of the sensations compound and increase. It’s too much, I can’t do this. I can’t tell if I’m close to cumming, I just know that I’ve been absolutely thrown over my threshold for sensation and I can’t take anymore. I sob out my begs to my doctor.
“Please! No more, please stop! STOP! It’s too much! I can’t take it!” My body is shaking and I’m fighting with everything I have against the restraints but nothing gives. His hand on my thigh has turned into an iron grip, holding me down so I can’t even shift my hips to escape the relentlessly accurate vibrations.
“PLEASE! STOP!” I sob. There’s nothing to save me. He doesn’t listen, he might’ve said something to me but I’m too far gone to hear. All I know is the torturous pleasure dominating every single nerve of my body.
Beneath the horrible overstimulation, I feel a warm thread of something else. Something pulsing through my body, filling me with pure pleasure. I whimper as the feeling starts to build, my every muscle seeming to tighten in response to it.
There’s a knot building in my stomach, spreading throughout my body. Coupled with the overstimulation, I feel ravaged and decimated, every nerve pulled bare and shocked by the live wire of sensation that’s forced upon me. Before I can even begin to articulate it, I feel the vibrator kick up another setting and I scream as it shatters me.
I cum. For the first time in my life, I cum. My scream seems to shake the very foundation of the building we’re in as the pleasure, pain, and sensation flood my body, every cell of my body bursting with it. I can’t do anything except ride the relentless wave of pleasure, my entire body a slave to the whims of that horrible, terrible, delicious, mind-altering pleasure.
I slowly come down from the high of my first orgasm, gasps shaking my body as my mind struggles to reengage with reality. I blink tears out of my eyes, and I look up to see my doctor standing over me, holding the toy that he’s mercifully removed from my clit.
“Good job, sweet girl,” he purrs, running his hand up my thigh to cup my pussy gently. The soft motion is enough to make me whimper. “How did that feel, darling?” The terms of endearment make me pause but I’m too hazy to really digest it all.
I clear my throat and swallow, my voice raw from the screaming and begging. “I- It felt really good but it was so much,” I whisper, “I don’t know if I can do that again.”
He smirks and suddenly, I’m hit with a wave of uncertainty. There’s a glint in his eye that wasn’t there previously and it makes me nervous. Something about the way he is looking at me is so different now than earlier, with his cool professionalism and niceties. Now, I feel like a specimen under a microscope and he, the scientist who plans on dissecting me.
“I think, I think I need a break. Can we finish this appointment another time?” I murmur, pulling slightly at my restraints and looking at him.
He lets out a low laugh that makes my skin pebble with nerves. “Oh no, now that I know what the problem is, I can’t let you leave until we fix it. What kind of doctor would I be if I let my patients leave without being cured?”
I shake my head, “I don’t understand,” I whisper. “You made me cum, doesn’t that mean I’m cured?”
He smirks at me and he slides a finger into my pussy, making me gasp. “Not at all, we’ve proven that you indeed can orgasm, but there is still much to be examined in terms of the extent of your orgasms. Plus, we have several more levels of this vibrator to get through and we haven’t even begun to work on your pussy and g-spot yet.”
My eyes widen at his words and the curling feeling of fear truly takes root inside of me. “Wait no, please, I don’t want to continue with any of that anymore. Please, just let me go!”
The look on his face is one of glee as he sees my terror become apparent. “Now now, you don’t want to leave against my medical advice, do you? Plus, darling, you consented to following through with my professional recommendations when you signed up to be a patient. There’s no backing out of this now. And especially when I know how sensitive of a whore you are, darling.” He chuckles.
I whimper, “Please, no, I don’t want this.”
He bends down to lean in close to me. “Well, I don’t give a shit about what you want. You are the most unique case of sensitivity I’ve ever seen, and I plan to take full advantage of that while I have you here. So be a good girl for me and enjoy this.” He presses his lips to the side of my neck and the feeling makes me tremble.
He ignores the rest of my protests and goes back to sitting between my legs. I watch in fear as he holds up the vibrator and clicks it on. “We stopped at level 6 last time, that’s where we’ll resume. And scream all you want, sweet girl, these walls are soundproof and won’t let a speck of sound through.”
I do indeed scream when he presses the vibrator against me again.
This time, there’s no build up of pleasure or stimulation. It all slams into me all at once and I writhe against my restraints as everything overwhelms me. I vaguely hear a low laugh permeate the space around me but I can’t focus enough to pick out any other noise amidst my own sobs.
My doctor stops giving me any verbal cues, not that I’m coherent enough to even understand at this point. All I know is the punishing vibrator held against my clit, ravaging my body and turning me inside out. The claws of pleasure are embedded deep into my psyche and my body is at its complete whim.
I have no idea how much time has passed or whether I even stayed conscious for the entire duration of the torture but eventually, I realize that he’s stopped. The vibrator is off but my body was still shaking from phantom sensations, every inhale of air a sharp stab, and every sob a reminder of how broken I am.
Slowly, I register the sound of his low laugh. I whimper as I blink away my tears to look at him. “You, my sweet girl, are truly remarkable. I don’t think you realize since you were so out of it, but we were at the highest setting for the past ten minutes and you didn’t even cum once. I’ve never come across someone so fucking sensitive and yet so resistant to orgasm. It’s incredible because you don’t seem to become desensitized either.”
I whimper and my voice cracks when I speak. “Please, please, just let me go. I can’t handle any more. I won’t tell anyone about this, please just stop doing this.”
He smiles at me and for a brief moment, I see the professional, nice, kind, good doctor from earlier. But all my hope is washed away when I feel his fingers press against my core again.
“I can’t do that, darling. We still have your precious pussy left to work on,” his voice is filled with excitement and it makes me want to cry because I know what is coming next and I’m not sure I will survive.
I watch him exchange the vibrator for a huge dildo. He smirks and presses a button on the underside of it and the entire thing begins to vibrate. “I think we can go ahead and skip to the higher settings here.”
Tears fill my eyes and I shake my head at him as pleas fall from my lips. He ignores me as he lines the dildo up with my core. I tremble as the vibrations make me shudder without the toy even breaching me yet.
He catches my eye and I watch as he gives me a wink and proceeds to slam the dildo home inside of me. I arch my back and let out a devastated cry. The toy fills me to the brim, the vibrations ravaging my sensitive walls and my g-spot in a way that makes my eyes roll back.
I’m sobbing and shaking as he drives the dildo in and out of my pussy. Every movement against my overstimulated walls tortures me. The pleasure digs its claws into me and drags me back into its embrace. My entire being submits and I feel my mind’s grasp on my sanity loosen as every single facet of my existence narrows to pleasure.
Each thrust seems to make my sensitivity grow, every single muscle in my body aching and begging for relief. I feel his hand clamp down on my thigh as the other continues to work the dildo inside of me. I want to rip myself out of my body to make this torture end but there’s nothing I can do. Every push and pull shoves my body higher and higher to a peak that I can never seem to reach. There’s no culminating release of pleasure to make this all better, no soft wash of an orgasm to soothe every jagged nerve. There’s only him and the torturous pleasure he imparts onto my very soul.
An unfathomable amount of time later, I feel him finally turn off the toy and pull it out of me. I barely register the lewd sound of my cunt clenching around the toy, my pussy still weeping with arousal even after the devastation he brought upon me.
“Please,” I whimper. “Please, are we done? Please, I can’t take anymore, please let me go.”
He brushes my hair off my forehead and he smirks at me. “Oh, sweet girl, I can’t let you go now. I’m going to be keeping you as my perfect little toy. There are still so many other things I want to try on you. I’m going to push every single limit you have until you break for me.” A soft whine escapes from me and I know there is nothing I can do to convince him otherwise. My head lolls from exhaustion and I feel my grasp on consciousness start to loosen.
The last thing I hear is his voice. “Sleep, sweet girl, I’ve got you.”
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boypied · 2 days ago
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our souls will become one
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[soul tie] count orlok x male reader
summary: the third and final night has arrived, and count orlok has arrived at your bed chambers where you lay waiting for him, ready to submit to his commands.
wc: 1.5k
notes: MDNI, FDNI, creature [Vampire] smut, breeding, neck biting, blood sucking, rough sex, mention of blood.
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You slowly open up your wooden carved wardrobe that holds all of your clothes, and you pull out your extremely long, loose-fitted nightshirt. You stand there, naked in your candle lit bedroom as you listen to your clock ticking getting closer and closer to the hour when Count Orlok will grace you with his presence on the third night just like he promised only two nights ago. You pull the nightshirt over your head, and you look down as it gracefully drops down to your ankles. You gently close the wardrobe door as you walk away from it, getting down on your knees in front of your large window where Orlok is likely to come through tonight. While you stay there waiting on your knees, feeling them go red against the hard wooden floor, you think about the fact you shouldn't have even bothered putting your nightshirt on when Count Orlok will likely be taking it off your body in a matter of minutes but you decide it's for the best as you want to show that you still respect yourself even though you'll be giving yourself to a nosferatu. You close your eyes, waiting to hear the sound or to feel his touch so that you know that the night has truly begun. Even though you know you should be repulsed by him, there's something that pulls you towards him, something that connects you both, both romantically and sexually. Your breath hitches slightly as you feel your window open up by itself, letting the cool breeze of the night in. You open your eyes to not see anything, but you notice Count Orlok's shadow present itself in your thin curtains. Your knees slowly take off the floor as your body extends to normal and your toes just about don't make the floor as you watch his figure appear right in front of your eyes, "Count Orlok" you mumble out underneath your breath.
Orlok pulls your hovering body over to him, your face inches away from his. He opens up his mouth, and his thick accent drops out. "You accept this of your own will?" He groans out in a slow way as he brings his hand up against your face as his nail caresses against your cheek all the way down to your chin as you gulp down. "I do." You say in a soft tone as you don't take your eyes off of his as your body trembles beneath his touch. The paralysing fear drips away as you feel a sense of comfort and security, "Then the convent is fulfilled," he says as a small smile grows upon his face as the realisation that he has won after all this time, "Your oath re-pledged." Orlok grunts out once more as his nail scrapes down your chin, and he gently pushes against your adam apple. "Yes." You mumble out in a quiet tone as his eyes widen and his smiles grow larger and creepier by the minute, "As our spirits are one...so too shall be our flesh." He grunts out, his accent growing thicker by the moment. "You. Are. Mine." He says as his skin stretches for the first time in a century to accommodate his fulfilled smile. A smile grows on your face as you realise all the visions and nightmares have led you to this moment, the time when you must submit yourself to Count Orlok....a Nosferatu. Your body stays in the air as Count Orlok steps down into your bedroom, and he walks round to your back, and he reaches up to tear away the button that is holding your nightshirt up, the moment that Orlok cut away the button holder your nightshirt dropped off your body and hit the floor with a soft sound. Count Orlok licks his lips as his eyes run all over your body, "impeccable." He grunts out as he walks around you in a circle admiring every inch and curve of your body. Orlok slowly begins to drop his clothes as your body floats over to your bed as you gracefully land down against the soft quilt, "Come to me" you call out to him in a haunting manner and he slowly walks over to you, his body coming out of the shadows being revealed to you. "Come to me," you repeat yourself.
Count Orlok's body glides across the floor over to the bed that you lay in. He climbs on top of you, Orlok's body presses down against you as you wrap your legs around his waist feeling his bare cock press against your warm hole, the hole that Count Orlok has been craving for a long time. Your asshole already slick wet for him. You made sure to prep beforehand as you watch his eyes fill with dark, lustful hunger. Orlok reaches down and lines his cock up with you hole gently pushing his thick tip into your ass and past your right muscle ring that is opening up for him, "n-ngh" you whimper in slight pain but is stripped away once his cock is entirely inside you. Your eyes flutter back as Count Orlok leans down and plunges his sharp fangs into your chest, right above your beating heart. He slurps up your blood as he slowly bucks his hips back and forth, causing you an immense amount of pleasure, "O-Orlok!" You groan out as with each thrust of his hips your cock bounces around, your hardness rubbing against his toned yet grotesquely seductive body. His cock twitching deep inside of you, Count Orlok doesn't stop sucking up your succulent tasting blood and he certainly doesn't slow down his thrusts as your moans grow louder and louder eagerly making him want to go faster. The cold breeze of the night flowing into your bed chambers as the curtains fly up, allowing more cool breeze in. Your eyes flutter back entirely as the feeling of his cock buried inside you continuously hits your sweet spot as well as his teeth sunken into your chest.
He continues to pound into you and suck up the blood from your beating heart, the heart that he had captured all those many years ago. He haunted your dreams and your life until he could finally get a chance to have you all for himself. Count Orlok's thrusts speed up, his thrusts at an ungodly speed causing your body to shake and convulse as you near an orgasm so intense. Count Orlok throws his head back as you watch how your own blood pours out of his mouth, his eyes immediately dart down to meet with yours, he leans back down to nibble at your earlobe as he opens up his blood filled mouth as he begins to speak. "Cum. For. Me." He groans out in your ear, in his thick sexy accent. Hearing those words was all you needed to bust a thick load all over your stomach. The orgasm causes your body to shake beneath him as you feel his thrusts become sloppy yet still quick as his centuries filled balls shoot a thick and large load out of his thick tip and into your velvet walls. "Our souls are becoming one." He mumbles out in a slow manner as he continues to pump into you, making sure to ride out his pleasureful experience as you feel your souls connect to each other.
Count Orlok collapses his body entirely onto yours as he slowly bucks his hips into you every so often, since this is a rare occasion his cock is hard. It is only hard for you. Orlok's face inches away from yours as he doesn't let his eyes look anywhere else only at your dowey eyes. You softly nibble down against your lower lip as you feel his hips slowly buck into your cum filled asshole, "mhm" you whimper out as you feel Orlok's cock get coated in his own cum as your walls squeeze around his thick member. "My perfect flower," he coos out in his slow voice as his long finger traces a sweaty piece of hair out of your face as he leans down to gently peck his lips against yours as your face reddens from a thick blush. "You. Are. Mine, " he grunts out as he pulls out of your asshole, watching how his vampire spunk drips out of your asshole and down. He climbs off the bed and pulls his long fur coat over his body to cover himself. He points his boney finger at you, causing your naked body to lift up off the bed and swiftly hover over to him. Count Orlok's body begins to hover off the ground to meet with yours, "good boy," he coos out as your head slowly turns to the side, and he plunges his teeth into the side of your neck. Your toes curl, feeling his teeth in another intimate place of your body, but you love the feeling, your eyes flutter back in pure bliss as you hear Count Orlok's quiet and desperate groans of pleasure as he drinks.
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taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter @lucerothings1 @gaefaeyae @dqrkhold @sluttyhusband
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urmum-lovesme · 13 hours ago
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Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P10
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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.
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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 
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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.”
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 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
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yaoirotic · 1 day ago
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Strilondes (or more specifically just Dave and Rose), a second gen immigrant reading.
Firstly, it’s important to note that Bro & Mom don’t hate their kids. I feel that getting this is pretty integral to getting them and getting their relationship with their children. They both are good intentioned albeit going about raising their children in bad ways. A lot of this comes from the isolation they felt arriving on earth and growing up without any guardians of their own, attempting to project traditionally western societal ideas. For Bro, it was full of violent, macho masculinity. For Mom, it was the busy house-keeping housewife.
Dave’s story of having traditional masculinity being imposed upon him by Bro is very comparable to how second gen immigrant kids experience masculinity and tough love. Bro was trying to toughen up Dave for the world albeit using violent methods that are comparable to how normalized it is to use corporal and physical methods of “discipline” as a means for punishing their children. Bro doesn’t hate him, but like some second gen immigrant parents his methods of raising Dave are extremely misguided and harmful. How he comes to terms with realizing that he did suffer from abuse is a lot more relatable when you look at him from a non-white perspective. He grew up in a household where this tough love mentality was idealized, and as a result he never really considered how bad his situation truly was until he was able to get out of it and realized him being given such extreme measures of “toughening” didn’t really help him at all in the long run.
As for Rose, her mother wanted to give her the childhood she would’ve wanted as a kid. Lots of lavish objects, giving her ponies and wizards while still inflicting child neglect on her in an alcoholic stupor. Even Mom’s tea set and extravagant bedroom imply a yearning to relive living a more lavish and feminine upbringing. It’s possible to interpret this from a transfemme perspective, and I think that’s right too. I don’t think they’re necessarily mutually exclusive by any means.
Rose’s reaction to her mother’s alcoholism and neglect is a lot more interesting from the reading of her being a second gen immigrant. She feels guilty for hating her mother in spite of her bad upbringing, for the lack of a relationship they ever really had. It’s similar to how a lot of second gen kids may feel guilt for having less than positive feelings on their parents due to them not necessarily trying to hurt them and being well intentioned, but still having faced abuse regardless. There’s an all too familiar sentiment amongst ethnic that regardless of how awful a family member may be, they’re still your family and you should be obligated to try and keep a connection or relationship with them, and reading Rose as a second gen immigrant you could very well see that she has a pretty bad case of this.
Hussie, whether intentionally or not (likely not if we’re being honest), wrote a pretty solid depiction of how children from ethnic backgrounds may realize and deal with their abusive upbringing, and I think reading it as such makes for a pretty intriguing read of their characters. In a way, Bro and Mom wanted to raise their children better than them. Bro wanted to harden Dave up for the world and raise him to an idealistic and reasonably unattainable level of masculinity. Mom wanted to give Rose a life of luxurious femininity and gifts, but in turn failed to meet her emotional needs. I feel that when you look at it from the perspective of a second gen immigrant (speaking from experience here) it’s a lot easier to sympathize with and understand their struggles and relationship with their parents. It’s a good, different depiction of abuse that breaks out of the mold of “abusive parents purely hate their children.” Because not all abuse comes from a place of hate for your children.
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lost-in-fandoms · 2 days ago
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Maxiel 19?
From here: de-aged. Hello thank you so much for the prompt!! This barely makes sense :)
"Max?"
Daniel is going to get killed.
He doesn't know yet who exactly will kill him, but he knows someone will, because he has lost Max.
Normally, he'd assume a big guy like Max would be hard to lose, especially in an apartment, as grand as Max's might be, but Max is not big right now, and Daniel has lost him.
"Max, buddy, we're not playing hide and seek! Come out!" he calls, while bending to look under the kitchen table.
Thing is, Daniel thought he was good with kids. So when he had woken up with a four years old Max Verstappen in his bed, all round cheeks and big blue eyes, he had accepted the task with ease.
De-aging wasn't particularly frequent, but it wasn't the first time Daniel had seen it happen, so he knew it usually went away in a couple of days at most, and looking after Max didn't seem hard.
Except it was.
Well, not really. Max was extremely well behaved, accepted it easily when Daniel told him no, and ate everything that was put in his plate. Daniel had sat him down in front of the tv while he showered, and Max had just stayed there the whole time, barely moving.
But then Daniel had gone to take a call, and when he had come back, poof. Max was gone.
"Max?"
He had already checked the door, still locked, and the balcony, empty, but he was running out of places to look in, and unless four years old Max knew how to become invisible, he would have to tell someone soon.
He gives himself twenty more minutes. Twenty minutes to comb through the whole house again, from the kitchen to the office, looking under every table and behind every curtain.
When the twenty minutes are up, he sits down on the couch with a sigh, fiddling with his phone, trying to think about who to call.
Calling the police seems excessive. And Max would hate him for it when he's no longer a child. Calling Max's family seems wrong, he doesn't want to worry them. Baby Max is not GP's area, but maybe he could help? Daniel vaguely recalls someone in the red bull garage going through this during a race weekend, being passed from hand to hand, until they had become big again about 12 hours later, so maybe GP would know what to do.
He sighs again, twirling his phone, letting his eyes wander around the room.
Max is tiny, but not so small he could fit behind the TV. And he's quiet, but if he had been in danger, surely he would have called for Daniel? Even if he was on a call?
Or maybe he wouldn't, Daniel reconsiders, thinking about how polite and mindful Max seems to be. Eerily so.
He really doesn't want to think about that.
And then his eyes drop on the cat tree, complete with cat tunnel, in the corner of the room.
Surely not...
Daniel stands up, abandoning the phone on the couch and crouching down to peer inside.
It feels like too small of a space for Max to be in, and yet...there he is.
Curled up so tightly it feels impossible, right before the bend in the tunnel, a thumb in his mouth and a cat near his head. Asleep.
"Fuck me," Daniel whispers, letting himself fall back, sitting on the floor, relief cursing through him.
He will have to figure out what caused Max to go hide, but the good news is that he won't have to watch his back for the rest of eternity in case someone comes to kill him.
The bad news is that this de-aging thing suddenly doesn't sound so easy anymore.
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ryusuisloveinterest · 3 days ago
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Dr. Stone headcanons of the Wise Generals' sleeping habits? Pretty please🥺
hello 🦕 anon! So sorry for the wait but I hope you enjoy the little headcanons! Just imagining this was so cute to me so I really hope you enjoy!🫶
5 wise generals sleeping habits 💤💞
Senku: 
I think Senku would actually have a pretty good sleep schedule 
He needs the right amount of sleep to use his brain to the fullest 
As for sleeping in general he’s a side sleeper
He hates laying on his back and hate laying on his stomach 
He’s not a cuddler AT FIRST
But as time goes on he gets a bit more clingy
First it’s just hand holding
Then it was intertwined legs
But one night he woke up and you weren’t there
He walks around the hut (if it’s the Stone Age) or the house (if it’s modern or 4d science) looking for you
He kinda gets nervous until he sees you coming out of the bathroom
He chuckles as you follow him 
As soon as you both lay in bed he locks you with his arms and legs and you’ve both slept like that ever since 
Chrome:
Chrome tries to have a good schedule, but his mind just wakes him up in the middle of the, curious about many things he’s yet to learn
You’ll often find him messing with his rocks or just sitting up and looking outside
“Oh I’m sorry did I wake you? I just couldn’t sleep.”
A lot of times you’ll just sit with him and let him ramble or you slowly drag him back to bed
There are some nights where you’ll fall asleep while you guys are talking and either you’ll wake up in the same spot you fell asleep in or you “magically” end up back in your bed
The few times Chrome doesn’t wake up he’s a heavy HEAVY sleeper 
I’m talking like the world could literally be ending and he’s still somehow asleep 
He’s an everywhere sleeper. As in his body is all over the place when he’s asleep 
You two will start off cuddling but by the end of the night Chrome’s horizontal to the bed with his waist all twisted up and his arms all over the place
You might even accidentally get punched or kicked once or twice💀
Gen:
Gen can just magically falls asleep
He doesn’t even show signs of being tired he’ll just be like, “goodnight y/n” and then knock out
He doesn’t really have a sleep schedule but always gets his 8 hours or more
Like some nights he goes to bed at 8 but then wakes up at 7 or he goes to bed at midnight and wakes up at 11 in the morning 
I say he’s either a normal side sleeper or he sleeps in the fetal position 
Sometimes he’s cuddly and other times he’s not 
He’s either all up on you, just holding your hand, or just close
Ukyo:
I think Ukyo would still kinda have his military sleep schedule engraved in him somehow 
From what very little I know about the military there’s the same rise and shine and nighty nighty all the time so expect Ukyo to have the same schedule every single day
I think he’s a light sleeper so try your best not to toss and turn
He likes to sleep on his side or on his back
His breathing is very light so it literally sounds like he’s dead some nights
It’s genuinely concerning 
He loves cuddling, unless you move around a lot, then it’s harder for him to sleep
Massage his head and he’s out
He’s honestly like a cat, just so satisfied when you rub his head
Ryusui:
What’s a sleep schedule 😀
He either goes to bed at a reasonable time or is just up for days straight with little naps here and there
“My desire doesn’t sleep! So why should I?”
I swear 
You have to pull him to bed
When he FINALLY lays down, he’s all over you
Like you like your personal space, but he LOVES it
He’ll either be holding you, or you’re on top of him, or he’s on top of you, or some other weird position 
I hope your body’s normally cold cause his body runs extremely hot, so if you run cold then it’s more bearable 
Has the cutest little snore
I wouldn’t even consider it that it’s just a little squeak he kinda makes when sleeping 
Sometimes he sleeps the whole night, other times he wakes up and starts doing something 
If you choose to stay up with him because he would never make you he’ll share his thoughts and desires with you 
But if you stay asleep you’ll feel a light kiss on your head and hear a small “I love you” before he’s off doing who knows what 
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hurlingdown · 20 hours ago
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hello (you can really tell ive got time on my hands with how many asks ive been sending)
see i love the concepts of a very lustful and seductice creature trying to woo the most... nerdy of individual and i would love to apply that with succubus satosugu with... an extremely freaky reader
you have got.... GIGABYTES of official hentai manga and this isnt just normal hentai manga. both of the succubu expected you to have some sort of sex dungeon when they decided to room with you but nuh uh, you're just... a normal guy with an extremely strong obsession with games and an extremely bored face when watching sex scenes
maybe they tried to seduce you in their ways, wear a crop top around the house or prim your bed with rose petals but... nothing, nothing at all... dear god, what impresses this perverted freak, they think
and then... then suguru makes you a meal while you're being the true gamer or hermit you are and... you're deathly flustered, stuttering as you accept his meal with extreme gratitude
ah, of course the freak... is extremely flustered at more casual things.
- oath anon
satosugu casually flipping through reader’s hentai manga collection to try and find out his kinks just to find out he has an insane obsession with succubi. what a coincidence, i mean.
meanwhile freak reader thinking he’s become nonchalant to sex from the sheer amount of exposure he’s had over the years until he tries actual demon pussy and gets addicted to it. realises that his two roommates are bent to his will after forming unbreakable bonds with him, and then proceeds to takes absolute advantage of that:
trying out everything he’s read about on them, from making them orgasm by filling up their wombs with cum to breeding and collaring them to having them become his free use sex objects... cockwarming him while he’s gaming or having them bent over on standby in case he loses a round and needs to fuck his frustration out on them
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qhazomb · 2 days ago
Text
so some recent art by @we-cool-beans reminded me of this one "sharing a body" au i've thought about.
i've talked about my other one where it takes place post-canon, with the temporary body-sharing happening in order to save gordon from a life-threatening disease he developed (likely from all that radioactive raw sewage...), but this is one that takes place during canon.
(this is using my headcanon that benry's true form is just a big glowing cloud of rainbow cosmic energy containing a consciousness).
after gordon's hand gets chopped off, and then benry realizes humans cannot in fact regrow limbs, he's not exactly jazzed over the fact that he got gordon perma-fucked up. he's also not a big fan of the fact that he can't un-fuck him up. benry doesn't know how to make someone else's body regrow limbs, just the body that he's in!
....so then he gets the idea "oh i'll just pop into gordon's body to fix it, then."
so benry abandons his own body somewhere (not important, he can just make a new one later), and slips into gordon's when everybody's asleep. when he gets there, he originally intended on just fixing gordon's hand and then leaving, but holy shit this guy is a LOT more beat up than benry thought. this hev suit's kinda sucks at being armor, huh. there's new wounds that are looking pretty rough, and benry also notes evidence of old injuries that don't look like they healed the way they're supposed to. he's got a looooot of work to do.
when the science team all wake up, they're all extremely surprised to see that gordon is no longer down a hand. the others of course make light of it, but gordon himself is feeling a weird mix of relief and what the fuck over the fact that he just... regrew a limb. like a fucking lizard or something. the rest of the team try coming up with theories on why this happened- "Perhaps the hazardous materials you've been swimming in have given you mutant powers!" "Are you sure you're actually human?" "Maybe Black Mesa's been secretly experimenting on you without you knowing it."
gordon of course does not like any of these theories.
at one point gordon gets a cut on his hand, an sees that his blood is a LOT darker than it should be, which freaks him out further. and then, again, when that cut heals up pretty much right before his eyes, he's not sure if he should be thankful or freaking the fuck out over it.
gordon also doesn't like the fact that benry's been missing again for A While, which normally he'd be thankful for, but given the current circumstances, it's putting him extra on edge.
gordon finally finds out both why he has a hand again and where benry went when he has a big emotional outburst... that's accompanied by sweet voice.
"I didn't know you could use the Black Mesa Sweet Voice, Gordon!"
gordon insists that he can't, and his panic is rising as more coloured orbs spill from his mouth (which tommy comfirms means gordon is panicking. bubby makes a comment like "Yeah, we can tell.")
it's then that benry, who has been just been staying quiet the whole time, finally speaks up in gordon's mind. "hey, calm down maybe?"
obviously this just freaks gordon out even more, albiet in a different way.
when gordon says he can hear benry in his fucking head, there's definitely some jokes in there from the team about gordon hearing voices now/being haunted again, pff.
eventually benry's able to explain himself (the best he can, at least). he's in here because gordon couldn't heal that good on his own, and benry couldn't heal him without being in here. and he's staying here because gordon's weak lil baby human body is just SO easy to break, like damn, so benry's gotta stick around to make sure it stays put together. he's the maintenance man, now.
gordon of course HIGHLY objects to this, but it's not like he can force this weird cosmic energy being out of his body.
(and though he's not saying it out loud, he does appreciate how all his usual aches and pains have been completely gone ever since benry started this "maintenance" work.)
gordon does at least get benry to agree to get the fuck out of him once they're all out of black mesa, though.
and then through the rest of their journey, understandings happen, and bonding happens. i've imagined one point where gordon is feeling Overwhelmed with Emotions and having a bad time because of it, when benry tells him to just, sing it all out with sweet voice. gordon begrudingly does so, and then... actually does feel better afterwords. turns out sweet voice is a really good way to get Big Feelings out. huh.
now the thing that we-cool-bean's art specifically reminded me of, is when they get to xen. benry obviously isn't here to be the big bad final boss, thus the nihilanth is still kickin' around, and proving to be just as dangerous as xenrey. during the fight, benry gives gordon a lil power-up: RAINBOW DEATH MODE
Tumblr media
(gordon doesn't get freaky shape-shifting like benry does when in RAINBOW DEATH MODE, he just gets glowy. there's extra orange in there as that's gordon's life energy colour signature!)
i picture gordon getting to land the final blow on the nihilanth, managing to get up on its head, prying open that noggin' to expose the crystal... but then being unsure what to do next.
benry yells in his mind "song of death at it!"
"How do I do that!?"
"just think about how much you wanna kill this guy and SING!"
the 'singing' that comes out of gordon's mouth sounds less like the angelic theramin notes benry sings, and more like death metal screaming, but hey it gets the job done all the same!
in the end, even after benry's vacated the freeman, it soon becomes aparent that gordon is... not entirely human anymore. having benry spend so much time hanging out within him, and then giving that RAINBOW DEATH MODE boost at the end fully cemented gordon's own connection to the cosmic ether, which is what sustains benry. now it's sustaining gordon, too.
...aaaand gordon's gonna need some lessons on how to keep from spitting out sweet voice when he gets a bit too emotional while in public :B
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thewalrusespublicist · 3 days ago
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"Tbh I was starting to feel a bit down about my blog and what I was putting out ( the eternal crisis on how to give full answers and opinions without being stupid, boring and annoying lol)"
OMG no way! Your blog is one of the best here! What i love the most is reading the analysis and meta from the users, there's always more information and good takes, and yours are always quite deep and insightful.
I would love if you share your opinions about Stuart as well. I feel like he is obviously more sanctified that he should be since he died young (like that insane quote from his mom saying that Brian told her that Stuart could have been the Beatles' manager, no way lol) and i feel his memory has been used to attack Paul, sometimes in a very unfair way. Like, i don't deny the teenage drama and jealousy that Paul felt about him but he *was* a shitty bass player and the band was Paul's future, he was allowed to criticized him not only for being John's new bestie. I also think John played with them both but i lack of your eloquence so i will love to read your take about it.
Hi anon! And the other anons!
Thank you again and to all the other messages I got, they were extremely sweet and really made my day. :)
From my inbox, it's clear you guys want to know about Stu and his role in the Beatles legacy. Well you asked for it and a novel you shall have. Be warned this might be the longest post I've done so grab like a drink or something.
A few disclaimers: I wish and had intended for this to be more of a deep dive into Stu as a whole person rather than just his relationship with John and Paul. Unfortunately I just didn't have the space to do it. If you want to know more about Stu I would highly recommend @eppysboys' blog which is the source for all things Stu Sutcliffe and where I got a lot of this info. Please check their stuff out. Also, I'm going to be a bit blunter on this than maybe I usually am because this topic has been irritating me for some time. Oh also I’m trying my best to answer a lot of asks in one post so please forgive if I don’t fully answer your specific ask about this!
Stu in a perfect world should be a fandom darling: an exciting cipher, a handsome artistic talent that died way too soon who had a major influence in the early Beatles style. It's like there’s this secret other James Dean looking mf Beatle hidden away to uncover, that's cool and he is cool! The problem is that he’s sort of becomes radioactive to talk about in a normal way due to how he's been portrayed and utilised in some biographies and fandom spaces, particularly those that have been infected by John Lennon aspirational boy bestie syndrome. As those types of spaces cannot seem to exist without tearing down Paul to prop John up as their special lil guy, Stu as John's other best friend has become the ideal heavy object to hit Paul McCartney over the head with. It's like a corrosive element, the minute Stu hits a Beatles bio, the biographer suddenly loses all training in objectivity and source work and starts waxing lyrical about 100 percent reliable never biased or wrong Saint Stu of Hamburg who died for our condom arson sins and that Paul McCartney should feel bad about every day of his life for not worshipping Stu and not accepting his own ‘place’ in life as John's just-some-guy placeholder best friend. I’ve personally seen so many posts and forums where Stu being mentioned leads to a legion of comments about how Paul could never have been Stu (correct both ways) and how John would never have even glanced at Paul for much longer if Stu had been alive. Sidenote: If you seriously think that the musical savant from down the road whom John went on to produce the most prolific song writing partnership in history with couldnt have kept his attention for long then I'm begging you on hands and knees to get your head out of the arse of your John Lennon body pillow and be serious. But anyway…
This boy bestie battle royale approach has in turn lead to a reflex reaction where Stu gets studiously ignored by other sections of the fandom as a precedent has been set that shining a light on him diminishes Paul and John's relationship with Paul. It's frustrating because if people weren't so keen to cut Paul out of his own story then we would get a much better nuanced view of every single person involved.
So let's put aside all of our defenses, cut the John Lennon loved one ranking system bullshit and lets look at the actual question here which is what was John and Stu's relationship really like and what did he mean to John?
John and Stu met at art college a year or so after Paul and John met. Up to that point John and Paul had their fun little codependant thing going on but Stu quickly became a huge fixture in John's life. Stu had things that Paul couldn't really offer at that point in time. John was at his heart a musician who aspired to be seen as an artist (he would later express surprise that he didn't become an artist). Stu was the passionate artist who knew tons about the art of the period that could teach and inspire John. Their creative leanings meant they could work on projects together and share art notebooks and poetry. (Including yes the one with anti-semitic story which I mention again as I believe it's an important thing to remember when it comes to both John and Stu and the culture of the time.) Stuart by the sounds of it was even writing a novel about John at the time of his death. They were fascinated and inspired by each other.
So, creatively they fired each other up but more importantly perhaps, Stu and John were peers. It's funny to think about when you see the Beatles later but at the time Paul and George were the kids in their school uniform coming to see their cool older friend at art school. That's an important divide. When Paul and George's parents insisted their kids do their homework and go to bed, John and Stu could stay up and talk all hours of the night, which they did. They also could rent a place together and spend long hours chatting (despite John moving out later after realising electricity cost money lol.) There's a different dynamic that the age similarity offered as well. Whilst Paul would later somewhat grow into this role, Stu could act as an authority figure to John as well as open up to John in a way you can really only do with your peers. Stu was the person John opened up to throughout Stu's life:
How long can one go on writing and writing like you. I now don’t really know who I’m writing to or why it’s quiet peculiar. I usually write like this and forget about it but if I put it in a little part of my [almost?] secret self in the hands of someone miles away who will wonder what the hell is going on or just pass it off as toilet paper. Anyway I don’t care really what happens because when I think about it, it’s so bloody unimportant – but what is important who has the right to say that this letter is not important and this is a something any way – anyway – anyway – yeah! I wonder what it would be like to be a cretin or something. I bet it’s gear. & how are you keepin Stuart old chap are you as ok – is life as good – bad shite, great – wonderful as it was or is it just a thousand years of nothing and coolness on and on and on. I think this is it Goodbye Stu don’t write out of – er what is it? well not because you think you ought to write when you feel like So goodbye (from John you know the one with glasses) ANYWAY BYE BYE see you soon I don’t know why I said that I remember a time when everyone I loved hated me because I hated them so what so what so fucking what I remember a time when belly buttons were knee high when only shitting was dirty and everything else clean + beautiful I can’t remember anything without a sadness So deep that it hardly becomes known to me so deep that its tears leave me a spectator of my own STUPIDITY + so I go rambling on with a hey nonny nonny nonny no
Extract from a letter to Stuart Sutcliffe from John Lennon, 1961
By lots of accounts Stu was gentle but firm when it came to telling John he'd gone too far. John references this aspect of Stu to Hunter Davies:
"I looked up to Stu. I depended on him to tell me the truth. Stu would tell me if something was good and I'd believe him."
The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (Hunter Davies)
In this way I kind of see Stu as a proto-Yoko. John was so insecure and uncertain about his grip on the world and reality that he relied on Stu to be his point of reference and guide. Paul did this too later and I think in Hunter Davies John mentions this, but not at this time period and not as much due to their competitiveness. This may be why some people saw Stu as the person that really understood John at this time period:
"During the turbulent adolescence that prefaced a turbulent manhood, hardly anyone knew Lennon as intimately as Stuart Sutcliffe. If they weren't exactly David and Jonathan, June Furlong, one of the life models at Liverpool's Regional College of Art, had "never seen two teenagers as close as those two."
The Gospel According To Lennon by Alan Clayson
Now this person likely never met John and Paul together but this is only one of many similar quotes and even Julia captain of John and Paul's friendship boat seems to agree there was a period where Stu dominated and Paul 'kept his distance' from the John-Cyn-Stu 'menage-a-trois'. But the friendship wasn't perfect and his position as John's ultimate best friend was never iron clad. This is best outlined by the shit they pulled when John convinced him to join on Bass for the Beatles.
Despite being John's best friend, Stu was teased and bullied:
"They argued as usual amongst themselves, but most of all they picked on Stu, the newest member of the group. John, George and Paul had been with each other long enough to know that rows and arguments and criticism didn't mean much. If it did, you just argued back. "We were terrible," says John. "We'd tell Stu he couldn't sit with us, or eat with us. We'd tell him to go away, and he did." At one hotel they stayed at, a variety show had just left. There had been a dwarf in the show and they found out which bed he had slept in and said that would have to be Stu's. They certainly weren't going to sleep in it. So Stu had to. "That was how he learned to be with us," says John. "It was all stupid, but that was what we were like."
The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (Hunter Davies)
Why John encouraged this I have no idea, maybe jealousy over Stu's looks and wanting to play people off each other? Things were tense in both Scotland and Hamburg, especially between Stu and Paul. As I said in my last post, the girls were fighting and it was mutual. Paul was mad for both fair and immature teenage-boy reasons. Stu could not be bothered with the bass most of the time and couldn't really play well and was only there as he was '(John's) best friend' (ouch for Paul). Paul conversely had given up higher education to be there and was sending lots of money back home. He also was dating the girl Paul fancied. Stu was popular with the new group and also did mean things like help John steal Paul's money when money was really tight for him. Paul in turn was a passive aggressive, jealous and mean. It all came to ahead in the punch up onstage which according to Spitz came about from Paul wanting money back and saying that Stu could borrow some from Astrid. Stu goes for him and reports vary from full-on bust up to embarrassing scuffle. Stu then goes to where Astrid and Paul's gf Dot are, demands Dot leaves and goes on a rant about Paul. Now all of this must be framed in the context of Stu receiving increasing brain damage from his condition that seemingly lead to mood swings and anger. Nevertheless, the mutual needling and anger, as well as John's refusal to do/say fuck all about it, especially given how protective John was of Stu, suggests that it wasn’t straightforward and/or John may have been playing some games to make both feel threatened. This would also make sense as to why we hear conflicting accounts of John and Stu being the centre of everything and everyone else in orbit AND John and Paul being the centre and everyone else playing catch-up, as well as John giving Paul the lead to take him round the Reeperbahn when John got dressed in the gorilla costume. (I know Paul may have just been the closest there but that always gave off bestie behaviour to me.)
(I did get an ask about how John and Paul's friendship survived it, I think it was damaged by Hamburg. When Paul got back home he got a job at a construction site and there's just a vibe of everything being a bit on tenterhooks. John also acts a bit weird at the period, not talking to anyone for a few weeks then making a lot of weird demands from Paul. I'm really not sure what to make of it.)
Even when he's back in Liverpool, John still writes long letters to Stu and vice-versa. I can't find it at all but I’ve read a really sad interview with John saying he missed his best mate and it's a shame that he's not with them. He had no idea at that point that Stu had already died of a brain hemorrhage at 21.
John is said to have gone into hysterics when he found out Stu had died. A lot of people who've spoken about this time (Aunt Mimi, his sister Julia, the Exsis) concur that at this point Stu was his best friend and the death shattered him. He even told Astrid he wished he could give his life for Stu’s. This is backed up by the fact that John never forgot Stu and his shadow lingered for the rest of John's life:
Stu was recalled in In My Life
Years later, after John composed the first of his truly poignant and heartfelt Beatles songs, "In My Life"—with its lines about "friends I still can recall/some are dead and some are living"—he revealed to me that the two people he had had uppermost in mind were myself and Stuart Sutcliffe. And then he stunned me with a statement that I'd never heard him address to anyone—least of all to another man. "You know, Pete," he said softly, "I do love you. But," he quickly added, "I loved Stuart as well."
Weird that Paul isn't mentioned surely you think that he would be mentioned if Pete was there too okay, okay my tin hat is going away this isn't the time
Pete Shotton, Nicholas Schaffner, John Lennon: In My Life
In 1965 John drew Stu on a postcard
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He apparently said this about Stu prior to sending the postcard, prompted by an article about Stuart.
The card had been sent from Genoa mid-way through the Beatles' Italian tour. [...] But the conversation had become maudlin when I reminded him that he was going to talk to me for an article about Stuart. [...] In that sad telephone conversation before they set off for Milan, I asked him if he was happy: 'I'd be a lot happier if Stuart was still part of us,' he said, 'The Beatles would be complete.' And before he rang off he said 'Ill send you something.'
He also appears on the cover of Sgt Pepper
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As mentioned, Stu gets mentioned in Hunter Davies in terms of wistfulness and guilt AND he gets a mention in John's insane 'if I were a homosexual' ramblings in early 70s. According to Yoko, John also wanted Yoko to write letters to him and didn't think it would be strange because Stu wrote letters to him.
I have a pet theory that as with a lot of things for John, his unresolved grief over Stu really came to the fore in the late 60s now that he had actually had a chance to sit down and think about things. I believe it was partially why he wanted Yoko to write letters and why he gets mentioned in the early 70s as a collaborator/best friend and not in 1980 where John only gives that credit to Paul and Yoko. I think with the cracks with Paul, John had started to think back on his old friend and guide and what advice he would give.
Stuarts presence is still felt throughout the seventies:
“He told me everything. He loved to talk about Hamburg. There were no secrets. It was the kind of life I never knew…. It meant total freedom. At his side always was Stuart, sweet Stuart. There wasn’t a time in John’s life when he didn’t think about Stuart. He spoke always of his love and respect for Stuart.”
Yoko discussing Stu in When They Were Boys: The True Story of the Beatles’ Rise to the Top by Larry Kane
Coming to grips with his death is also present in Skywriting
SEAN O’HAIRE: What happened to Stuart Cliff? DR. FISCHY: What happened was a full exchange of energy where it was not needed within the expression of your own self or in the energies involved around and about you. We cannot call it a happening. We’ll say it is an awakening, for in that way it has served an expression from the past to the present and to the future to where there shall be more of that incomplete vibration expressed to you in a more fuller understanding.
Skywriting by Word of Mouth, John Lennon
This isn't exhaustive but I think from all this it's pretty clear that John adored Stu, John grieved Stu and kept grieving Stu. Stu had a specific place in his life as a confidant that he tried to recreate with Yoko. At the time of Stu's death, he was John's best friend, probably slightly over Paul. Stuart had been able to be both a friend and paternal presence, a confidant and an artistic collaborator. His presence and loss was one of the foundational points in John's life.
But as we've been asked to play this stupid game and so many bios like to make a hoopla about it, were they at their closest ever as close as John and Paul were at their height?
No.
How do we know? Because John told us so:
" He [Paul] still is the closest friend I've ever had, except for Yoko, so I'm still close to him whatever goes on."
John Lennon to an interviewer, 1971
But Walrus! John just says shit! How do we know he isn't leaving out Stu because the press don't know Stu. Well true John does just say shit but this is at a time where John isn't the most glowing about Paul and he's had no problem mentioning Stu in this time period ('one of my best friends ever' would have made a similar point).
But Walrus again! If John picked Stu over Paul when they were young why wouldn't he be the boy bestie of all time, and why would John say that he was closer to Paul? Well, because of the environment and timings. Stu's death happened near the beginning of John and Paul's major bonding moments. If you look at their personal timeline, Paris, the Nerk twins, and getting signed happened just before Stu died. That's missing the major years of Beatlemania, Key West, LSD, Paul growing more into being John's peer and a load of other huge moments in their lives. It's like how John writes to Cyn in 1962 about wanting the house to themselves and not have Paul around all the time. Would you say because he feels closer to Cyn then that John in his overall lifetime loved Cyn more than Paul? No, because relationships change over time and theirs were no exception. (One thing to consider as well is that we don't yet have many letters between John and Paul during their Beatles years and earlier, probably because they were spending so much time with each other. We know a couple exist that Paul considers too personal for publication but I'm sure there are others. It's easy to understand what John felt for Stu as we have the letters, I think we would also have an easier time understanding what John felt for Paul if we had the equivalent of those.)
At the end of the day Paul was the man he believed he had a psychic bond with, the man he couldn’t shut up about, the man whom he’d conquered the world with with their endless collaboration, the man with a twin personality to him and according to John spent more time with throughout the 60s than he had with Yoko ever. To be frank if Paul had died in 67' I don't think this would have been a conversation.
As mentioned early, in early 1970s John elevates his partnership with Stu to his collaborations with Paul and Yoko but by 1980 he’s pretty clear that Paul and Yoko are their own category.
"I was saying to somebody the other day, “There’s only two artists I’ve ever worked with for more than a one night stand, as it were. That’s Paul McCartney, and Yoko Ono.” And I think that’s a pretty damned good choice!!"
John Lennon interview with DJ Dave Sholin, 1980
There are of course the what ifs. Would Stu still being alive mean that John was not as close with Paul? Maybe, highly doubtful though as the Beatles experience was so intense. If Stu remained a Beatle would John be as close with Paul? If Stu remained a Beatle he wouldn't be Stu so no. At the same time who knows what it would have been like if Paul and John were peers from the off? I said this to @the62ndbugsfan when it comes to Stu vs Paul (hi girl sorry i've made our chat a whole ass post lol) but to go a bit Wuthering Heights, soulmates are made as much from the earth as they are of the stars. What binds us is our experiences just as much as our personalities. There may be a universe where Stu and John took on the art world together or became inseparable bffs again after the Beatles disbanded, but it is not our universe. In this universe Stu tragically died and John and Paul chose to become Lennon/McCartney and artistically unite themselves forever.
Even going back to Stu's lifetime, I've said it before and I'll say it again I find it interesting that not only did John choose to go to Paris with Paul rather than pay to meet up with Stu somewhere but that they arranged to meet up with Juergen and nobody told Stu until they'd already gone. Stu was shocked and didn't know if it meant the end of the Beatles which is a pretty big thing for him not to know about. Why didn't John tell him if they're apparently still writing long letters? Was it because he really wanted to do this with Paul and didn't want to hurt Stu's feelings? And that's really the point I want to make here. Due to his trauma John was preoccupied with reinforcing ranking of relationships within his life. But the thing is friendship rankings are made up guidelines and the reality is far more complicated. You can have a designated best friend but feel closer to another friend at times, you can want to do one thing specifically with one friend and not the other for various reasons. You can (as I do) have more than one equal best friend. Friendship as with most relationships are in a constant state of flux and each friendship you have will give and mean a different thing, even if they are of similar value to you.
Paul may have ended up closer to John than Stu had been, but that doesen't make John's relationship with Stu any less special. Nor does Stu negate the significance of Paul. Whilst both fit into John's pattern of intense relationships and demands related to that, both had unique positions and meaning to him. Considering what I've gone into about John's closeness to Stu, it actually says something deeply, borderline unnervingly, intense about John and Paul that Paul pipped Stu to the post. Maybe it's time Beatles bios accept the fact that John Lennon just wouldn't be into them like that, stop using a tragically prematurely deceased young man as a prop in their jealous psychological warfare against Paul McCartney, stop perpetuating one of the most damaging games that John did to his loved ones and allow both relationships the space to shine and showcase the amazing talent that was the Beatles and those that surrounded them.
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mrclairdycat · 15 hours ago
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Jayvik Headcanons! ٩( ᐛ )( ᐖ )۶
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(You can use these for your fics, art or whatever, I don't mind! Tell me or tag me if you do though 'cause I'd love to see it/read it.)
Jayce is naturally good with kids. Viktor is awkward with them, but for some reason the kids love him. They often want touch or try his cane or ask curious questions and their parents deem it as disrespectful, but he always assures them they can and gladly lets them. He also loves to say playful lies like "Actually don't tell anybody this but I've acquired the powers to teleport. I just have to act like a normal human being among the public." Or, better yet, he tells them he's actually an alien. HOWEVER... Viktor hates newborns. He hates when he's forced to cradle them in his arms. Too much slobber, shit and vomit. You can't even talk to them and know there's some kind of understanding between you and them. Jayce, on the other hand, could have a baby shart in his arms and still be like "awww!" He also loves to play with them theatrically.
Viktor is a HUGE Doctor Who fan. It's basically all he ever watches. Jayce is more of a Holiday Movies guy or series with Comedy, Romance or both, especially soap operas, but he was once forced to watched Doctor Who and now he's hooked too.
Jayce is the only one who finds Viktor's dry and dark humor, especially directed at himself, funny. He finds it so refreshing since posh people's humor is extremely boring. Plus, he understands that Viktor would prefer making light of his bad situation to cope and it's not his place to tell him what to joke and not joke about.
Although they mostly lock in and work hard all night in the lab, the sleep deprivation makes them find ANYTHING funny. Sometimes they end up in an endless loop of laughing fits because both of them are so sleep deprived they can't properly say words anymore.
Speaking of, they probably share all their deepest secrets on a whim but don't remember anything the next day, as if they were totally drunk or something.
Also, they cover each other up if they find one of them has fallen asleep. Often times, however, Viktor finds himself magically spawning in his bed. He never thought much about it, figuring he was so exhausted he probably doesn't remember going home, when in reality it was Jayce that carried him home to make sure his body wouldn't be in pain in the morning.
When Viktor is mad at Jayce he abuses that disabled card. Sometimes he publically humiliates him by pretending he's a bad person that doesn't help his disabled friend with anything. In reality, if he tried to pick something that fell for him, he would be met with the smack of his cane.
Speaking of, acts of service is Jayce's way of flirting. He's an extrovert, but he's not confident at all. He never says his feelings first, just acts especially nice towards someone with numerous gifts, praise and help. Viktor thought he was just being ableist.
Again, speaking of, Viktor is more of a words of affirmation guy. However, when they got together, they have scheduled days within the week where Viktor HAS to accept help and be spoiled. He knows its Jayce's love language by now, so, even if he finds it condescending, he's happy to let him have those days to let it all out.
Sometimes Jayce presents Viktor a complex equation because he loves seeing him explain how to solve it. He just loves listening to him yap.
Viktor has a secret passion for astronomy. Can name you every star. Jayce has a secret passion for birdwatching. Can name you every bird. He'd also love falconry. Tbh he adores animals in general.
Viktor despises Astrology. Jayce loves it. He likes to piss him off by saying "You're acting like your sign right now."
Jayce loves pop and reggaeton, meanwhile Viktor thinks classical music is superior to anything else. He especially listens to it because it is scientifically proven it helps with focus. He hates when he wakes up in the morning to him cleaning and blasting El Taxi or something.
Viktor also loves theatre musicals. His favorites are Ride the Cyclone, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. He also loves plays like Hamlet or live orchestras.
Jayce is very good at cooking thanks to his mom's teachings. Plus he just really enjoys it. Viktor is the type who finds it a chore and eats only because he has to (he doesn't even do that most days). Jayce often brings extra food when he packs lunch so Viktor can have some too :) he also loves to cook for him.
Jayce is naturally good at dancing. Adores Just Dance and group dances (Viktor always wins Just Dance without even moving his legs). Viktor is naturally good at playing instruments. He likes to focus on what his hands can do so he can feel better about his bad leg.
Jayce loves head massages and scritches. He's a sucker for physical touch. Viktor likes to give him that while he's reading notes or a book.
Jayce is a dog person who has no problems with cats. Viktor is a cat person who kinda hates dogs since they drool all over the place and lick his face.
Viktor never cries, but when he does it's GUT wrenching because of all the bottled up emotions. Jayce, on the other hand, cries for absolutely anything, especially movies. He could see a child with their mom on a random stroll and shed tears saying "they're so happy :("
Ximena (Jayce's mom) adores Viktor. He always tells Jayce to invite him over whenever they can so he can spend less time alone and even encourages him to sleep over. She just can't bare the thought of someone's baby struggling on their own and not being taken care of.
Jayce mostly overthinks when he's trying to fall asleep. The silence is always broken by him spiraling saying things like "do you think I'm annoying?" simply for a stranger not responding after he complimented them or something. The thought of someone hating him drives him insane. He wants to be liked by everyone. People pleaser core.
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hers-underwraps · 3 days ago
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WAKE UP EVERYONE IT'S OCTOREVIEW TIME!!
HAZARDOUS HABITATS MY BELOVED
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(I know this post is LONG overdue (it's been sitting in my drafts since November) but I was taking a break sorry)
I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT THIS EPISODE.
HAZARDOUS HABITATS MORE LIKE A HAZARD FOR MY HEART
This episode is absolutely one of my favourite Above and Beyond episode because it had so much to offer. Aside for the fact that it was absolutely adorable there were so many authentic character moments for both Dashi and Shelligton that I was genuinely going feral.
ALSO for anyone that ships Dashton this is THEIR episode. This combo is so iconic; they're such cuties and can talk about their passions effortlessly with each other. Genuinely love them so much.
Right from the get-go the episode is set up perfectly, they're both going out to get some photos for shellington's creature collection in extreme habitats. Dashi loves photography and extreme environments, and Shellington loves niche creatures and his collection; it's a win-win mission for both of them.
“Don’t worry shellington I can get you your photos in any conditions, extreme wind, extreme rain, extreme snow-“
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They're so cute and passionate, Shellington is like "I really want these photos but they're lowkey impossible to get" and Dashi's like "heh buddy don't sweat it. I've got you bro"
“No worries, Tweak upgraded my wandercam to handle the heat, the cold, the wet pretty much anything so I say let’s go!”
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LIKE THEY'RE JUST SO AHHHHHHH
Massive shoutout to Shellington to having so many loser moments in this episode as well.
E.g. He getting scared by the thorny devil (like bro I thought you were an expert on these things) and Dashi picking up the lid after he spills the water everywhere
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PLUS THE ULTIMATE LOSER MOVE
Him being like "Erm be careful, it's really slippery here 🤓☝️" and his goofy ass just instantly fell into a puddle
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He's honestly a little pathetic throughout the whole episode and Dashi has to pick him up (they are literally girl boss and malewife)
Then oml there was this when they were trying to get more photos but they had to climb because of the rocks
“You mean up there?!?" *gulp*
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(He's like damn girl are you being fr right now?!?)
“Ah, sure. we’ll use our climbing claws! Easy peasy”
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LIKE SHE SAYS THAT AND WINKS AT HIM LIKE?!?! (OML I'M NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS)
“Ah, right easy peasy…”
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HE KNOWS HE AIN'T BUILT FOR THIS. Plus to top it all off when he's climbing up the rocks he's like
“Easy peasy, is making me queasy".
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Genuinely them at the tepui's was genuinely so assuming. They're being stupid, falling in puddles, messing with each other, watching this poor pebble toad on the camera and being like
"Oooh toad" 😯
"AHH tarantula" 😧
"Omg she's falling! Bro does she need help?" 😨
"Nah she's alright, they do that sometimes" 😐
*toad starts drowning * "how about now?" 😰
"oh yeah NOW she's trouble, she can't swim lol" 😬
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It was such a we share a single brain cell moment but hey they got their photo. Then at that end of all of it when the toad is telling them what a good climber she is and shellington says "heh, at least that makes one of us". He's so comedic throughout the whole episode.
Honestly, both of them are so casual with each other. They can make jokes and puns which we don't usually get a lot from these two. Dashi's lingo isn't as serious and she's openly going on rants about topics throughout the episode (which again is great because we love dorky Dashi moments). Shellington is a lot more willing with trying uncomfortable things (Especially after watching the Kilimanjaro climb, shellington was just outright refusing to do anything he wasn't familiar with for half of the episode).
All of this shows how comfortable they are with each other, they are more authentic and vulnerable which is a major kudos to the quality of their relationship.
THEN there was the Sistema Huautla
OMG just look at how happy she is! Like yes! Deepest cave in the western hemisphere! Let’s jump right in!
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Also a quick side note, why did they make the Sistema Huautla look so shallow. I get it's would be hard to do but it's 1560 metres deep? THAT'S ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING!!?!?! ORIGINALLY, I thought Shellington was being a bit of wuss but oml you would NEVER catch me in here.
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ANYWAY, back to them.
Despite the Sistema Huautla being that deep Dashi's like "yeah we'll just climb down there to get our photos" (Although I guess she's really just going back to her roots)
“We still have our climbing claws so easy peasy!”
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(She's so nonchalant about all of these extremes. It's funny. Shellington's like "hey these are some of the most dangerous habitats in the world" and she's deadass like "easy peasy")
“Where have I heard that before”
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He's so the voice of reason like "girl bffr this AIN'T easy peasy"
She's honestly just thriving, landing like a pro and smiling the whole time, completely unfazed; it's just so Dashi.
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Then the ledge breaks and shellington nearly falls to his death...
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Nice.... (help he's so damsel in distress coded)
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Dashi's like ah well shit I can't get you out of this one by myself...
The change up in their attitude is so crazy they go from happy go lucky yay we’re in a cave let’s beg the blind scorpion for photos to damn these extreme habitats are actually dangerous. We might die.
They call the crew and Ryla's on their way to help them out but obviously, she's not going to get their before that tiny ledge breaks away.
Then there's this scene where they need to weigh up saving the photos or shellington. Shellington's all for keeping the photos (even at the expense of himself) but Dashi pulls through with a classic Dashi moment (I love it when Dashi has moments the relate well back to the OG series (well the few dashi centred episodes anyway). It was very manta ray episode core)
“Saving you is more important then saving the photos”
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She ejects those photos they worked so hard to get (much to shellington's despair) and gets him down to the bottom safely. Gotta love her "sacrifice everything to save the ones I care about" mentality Then Ryla gets there and everything is aye-okay.
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Tweak was so silly and casual when these two finally rescued.
“Hi guys, guess you two will do anything to get a photo of a critter”
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She summed up their dynamic so well it's great.
It's genuinely so funny how chill the girls are throughout these extreme situations. It's so in character too. I can imagine if it was a different combination of characters they would be freaked. But these three? Ryla, Dashi, Tweak? Yeah, they're not that phased at all.
Then when they were wrapping everything up and showing all of their work to the others (because thank got the camera and survived falling down the 1560m cave) they were so adorable.
Shellington was so proud of all the photos they managed to get in 1 day (like yes guys we slayed so hard) then when he realised he actually got the photo of the scorpion he shoved everyone out of the way
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Just look at how happy he is!
Another side note: This episode was so pretty! I thoroughly enjoyed this scene in the ray, the aesthetic was immaculate. All the places they visited were so pretty and cool too!
Finally as a little cherry on top, Dashi's on an extreme adventure high after all this excitement and she starts going on a rant (gosh I love it when she rants, dorky Dashi for the win). They can both be such dorks when they are on a roll which is something I adore about them.
“Then why stop now? We can climb up Mount Everest, the highest altitude mountain in the world and find some Himalayan jumping spiders !”
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He's just horrified. They nearly died and now she wants to go and climb Mount Everest. She's just a lil crazy and obsessive, just a lil...
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“Oh thanks, but I’ve had enough extreme adventure for one day. The next thing I’m climbing into is my bunk”
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Just look at those glares. It's so funny bye.
I love how they are both so obsessive over their passion it makes them such a perfect pair. Shellington is willing to risk dying for his research and Dashi's ready to put herself in extremely life-threatening situations and just do it all again for her photos.
Tweak said it herself. They really are willing to do anything for their passion.
And for each other.
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(They are so stupidly in love. Lord help me.)
Anyways, this episode is in my top 5 for Above and Beyond. 10/10 thoroughly enjoyed it. Nearly died because of how good it was.
Thats all I have to say for now.
Byeeeee
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communistkenobi · 1 day ago
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brain damage mission impossible posting
okay there are 72 fics listed as Ethan/Julia on ao3 despite her being his canonical wife. Which like on a baseline level I understand because she’s not a character. she’s a symbol meant to represent Ethan’s desire for domestic quietude, something that is perpetually out of reach because he’s the mission impossible guy who saves the world. every time he tries to be a normal person some evil entity threatens to destroy his life by kidnapping his wife/parents/etc. But the idea of a hot/cold relationship with Julia, or them as perpetual lovers without any promise of marriage and family or even exclusivity, is never entertained in these movies, which I think cements Julia as firmly not a character. She’s not even really that important to Ethan when viewed in this context, because there’s no shades of grey allowed - he’s either a full time spy or he’s a retired husband. He won’t even take “scraps” in the form of casual sex or infrequent clandestine loving hook-ups, even in contexts where that wouldn’t put her in any danger. the only two horizons of possibility for him are marriage or volceldom. the films make the case that you can’t really have any work-life balance, but the “life” part of that equation is just full-package white heterosexuality. And they don’t even make it seem that appealing honestly, like in the third movie when Ethan tries to retire he’s clearly not comfortable and on edge all the time and abandons it at the drop of a hat (almost killing Julia in the process). But every time she appears in these films after they break up he is deeply distraught about it - like god does Tom Cruise sell the “we can never be together” look of abject longing he does whenever their characters collide. He sells the intense emotional stakes despite the lack of normative sexual desire to go with it.
Because what’s also crazy is that Ethan as a character doesn’t really express any sexuality in general - most of it is extremely restrained, confined to caressing a woman’s face or accidental physical closeness (like landing on top each other during a fall, etc). It’s always hinted at but never really develops into anything, and even in later films where it’s clearly shown that he and Ilsa have something going on, they barely touch. Like most of it is communicated through emotional glances and long pauses of them staring at each other. Clearly the misogynistic spectre of “men and women can’t be friends without eventually fucking/dating” is present in this, but the conclusion of that heteronormative configuration is never paid off with sex. And this is despite women’s bodies being shown off constantly in these films, like there are a lot of unjustifiable and disgusting shots of women’s asses and legs especially, but they are pure “eye candy” for the audience, they are rarely if ever framed as being attractive from the perspective of Ethan, the principle POV character of every film and the character that audiences are clearly supposed to connect with.
And in those moments where women’s bodies are on display but Ethan is not paying attention, there is a clear separation between the director’s and Tom Cruise’s vision of these films. Like he is entirely in control of them at this point given he is the driving force behind them, all of these films are sold on Cruise doing some insane stunt like holding his breath for six minutes or climbing the exterior of the tallest building in the world or him doing 109 HALO jumps to get the best footage for a mid-air struggle over Paris. He does shit no other actor does, he sells it by making it ‘real.’ The films also narratively revolve around him - he is, to use direct quotes, “the living manifestation of destiny,” “the embodiment of chaos itself” and so on. He is the emotional and narrative centre of gravity. Ethan’s emotional states, his desires, his tribulations and internal conflicts, they are all that matter in these films. Basically no one else is a character. And he doesn’t fuck in any of these movies! He's a hot-shot spy but he isn’t a ladies man. Women fall over themselves for him but he’s not interested in them. The only exception is Ilsa, but that is clearly the result of her saving his life multiple times and their emotional trust in one another. Like these films have action movie levels of misogyny, sexual objectification and narrative discarding of women and all of that, but our main hero doesn’t really “partake” in any spoils of triumph or whatever gross horseshit is usually in these things. So to me this indicates a general lack of desire on the part of Cruise to “indulge” in any of these tropes, something he has the money and power to force on screen if he wants it to happen (which is what happens in many movies! Including these ones, only you just see a woman’s ass disconnected from any character’s sexual intention - the sexual intention is purely presumed on behalf of the audience).
I think this is aesthetic evidence that Tom Cruise is gay. But I still don’t really care about any of the guy characters either because they also aren’t characters, so Benji/Ethan is entirely uncompelling to me in a way that Ethan/Julia isn’t, not because cookie-cutter heterosexuality is “more interesting” but because there is something weirdly restrained and emotionally repressed about it that feels strangely uncomfortable with its own cookie-cutterness. so personally if you want to do Benji/Ethan in an interesting way I think you need to contend with the bizarreness of Ethan/Julia, OR, you deal with the narrative tension of Ethan/Julia itself by focusing on it. I am obviously biased in that I am extremely partial to a good “lovers doomed to be forever apart” thing (and these movies are NOT good examples of this), but their relationship is purely emotional and purely based on repression of a desire for intimacy as opposed to sex, which feels weirdly out of place in an otherwise titanically normative action film series. AND ITS MAKING ME CRAZYYYYYY!!!!!!!
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phightingheadcanons · 2 days ago
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That anon who rambled about phinishers (aka me >:3) is back at it again! Mostly because someone reblogged my first post asking who’s a Focus and who’s a Release. Well, here’s what I think!
Sword: Focus. Fun fact: in the brief moment he’s airborne, Sword transfers all of that built-up energy into his blade, causing the explosion 👍 
Skateboard: Release. For as long as he’s fully charged, his senses are cranked up to 11. He uses this to plan out where he wants to race off to.
Biograft: Phinishers don’t exactly work when you don’t naturally feel strong emotions. Or emotions at all. Subspace added in the overdrive mode as a substitute. It probably works on a timer.
Katana: Focus. Similarly to Sword, he also channels his energy into his gear.
Ban Hammer: He’s technically a Focus…but by the gods does he want to use it on any opponent he sees, regardless of their health. Sometimes he’ll get inpatient and just use it, even if it means wasting his ult. (Couldn’t be me-)
Rocket: Release. He gets a lot more giddy and excited when fully charged.
Slingshot: Focus. His eyesight improves like mad when fully charged. So much so, that the effect lingers until his phinisher is complete.
Hyperlaser: Focus. Many phighters power up their gears with their energy, and Hyper is no exception. Some speculate that he actually steals the energy of the demons he takes out with his ult, allowing him to do it again. Meanwhile Hyperlaser has no idea why that happens 🤷‍♂️ 
Shuriken is a weird case. To start his phinisher, he has to focus. But when his concentration falters, the giant shurikens get launched. He normally does this on purpose, but he’ll accidentally toss them all willy-nilly if he gets distracted.
Scythe: Release. Tis’ hard to ignore the thrill of the hunt, but she’s learnt how to manage it for the most part. Scythe also had to teach herself how to channel that energy into her ranged phinisher, which doesn’t come as naturally to her.
Medkit: Focus. For whatever reason, his ult in particular takes a lot more focus to properly perform. It’s astounding how good his concentration is.
Boombox: Focus. But as he gains more and more charges, a feeling of anticipation sets in, with it culminating in his (literal) beat drop. Sort of a mix between the two.
Subspace: Release. And extremely impulsive, like Ban Hammer. A deadly combination.
Vine Staff: Focus. Oddly enough, the lotus will persist even if her concentration is broken. She just has to unleash it first.
Coil: He’s 100% a Release phinisher. When fully charged, he has the urge to go phucking feral.
In total, that’s 9 Focus, and 5 Release phinishers. Yap sesh complete!
— 🍃 anon
Scythe needing to put active mental effort and concentration into not murdering people with her phinisher is really funny to me <3 LIVE YOUR TRUEST LIFE SCYTHE!!!!!!!!!!!!
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