#so sick and tired of this shit being passed around

[highqueenofelfhame]

oh, hi.

it has been a hot ass minute but i'm back baybeee. seriously though, if you're still here, still reading this, and still excited there was an update, thank you from the bottom of my heart. i love u guys to pieces!! enjoy <3

The cotton candy hues of the sunset were fading to nothing as he pulled into the long driveway to his house. Lights illuminated the edge of the path, but his house sat dark at the very end until he opened the gate, passed through, waited for it to close behind him, then signaled the garage to open. As soon as he opened the garage, his phone began to ring. 

The shrill ringtone was enough to make his heart skip a beat in his chest before he realized the name and photo on his screen. Golden Boyo flashed across the top accompanied by a picture of the two of them holding a World Cup trophy high above their heads. 

A heavy sigh escaped deep from within Rowan’s chest and he almost didn’t answer. His heavily tattooed thumb hovered over the deny button until he realized he had hardly texted anyone back all weekend. The thought of leaving his friends in the dust didn’t sit right with him when he knew for a fact that Aelin would likely yell at him for it until she was blue in the face and needed to lie down. 

Against his better judgment, he answered. Even worse: he showed up at the bar his teammates were meeting up near Lorcan’s place. While he needed to be fully ready for practice, his friendships needed nurturing as well. It didn’t matter that he felt old and tired. It had been awhile since he met up with the guys and by the time Rowan was a few beers in, he felt better about the whole situation. 

“We have practice tomorrow,” Lorcan reminded Fenrys. His tone was stern, his words were the law. It didn’t, however, change the way Fen’s eyes were roaming the bar looking for a body to explore all night. Rowan smirked, feeling the buzz from his drinks.

“That’s never stopped me before.” Fenrys winked at a man near the dartboard and Rowan watched as a rosy blush crept over the man’s face. No, it had never stopped him before. It was a lesson he still hadn’t learned: a sex marathon the night before practice or a game never did him any good. In fact, it made him play like absolute shit most of the time. “Speaking of people we’re bedding, how’s Aelin doing?”

“We aren’t sleeping together,” Rowan muttered into his pint glass. “She’s been sick a lot. Thankfully she can work from home most of the time.”

“Are we sure—“ Lorcan began, but Rowan held up a hand to stop him. He wasn’t dealing with his bullshit tonight regarding the legitimacy of the pregnancy. Rowan had no doubts, and was even happy. Lorcan was just looking out, but it didn’t stop the irritation that flooded him when he brought out his accusations and reservations. 

“We’re positive. They’re the best ace I’ve ever gotten.”

“That’s cute,” Fenrys swooned. His chin was propped on his fist while he looked at Rowan.

“What?”

“You called them an ace.” Warmth bloomed up his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. The alcohol had loosened his lips and let the truth flow freely.

“Well,” he grumbled. “All it took was once and now I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“You’re pathetic,” was all Lorcan said in response. Rowan couldn’t disagree. He was nothing if not a love sick puppy waiting for his girl to really come around to the idea of them. 

Pathetic, indeed.

~*~

The blender was a blur of green and entirely too loud. Rowan was definitely getting old if the few beers he had the night before led to such a hangover. Being out so late last night was probably a mistake, but it had been fun to hang out with the guys outside of practice for once. Rowan was feeling it this morning though, already several pain killers deep. Water. He needed a lot of water. 

 He knew the greens and hydration would cure his ailments, but the sound of his phone buzzing might send him over the edge first. When his phone started ringing, he wanted to throw it into the blender, too. 

Rowan wiped a towel over his face. His pulse pounded in his skull while sweat slipped down his face in lazy rivers from the workout that had kicked his ass. He stared down at his phone, the screen lighting up with the one person he truly had been avoiding since his relationship with Aelin began.

MOM CALLING…

He needed to call her. It was bad enough that his relationship was now public and he’d barely told his mom anything about Aelin, but he really needed to clue her in on the pregnancy. If that got out before it came from him she would be deeply wounded and he didn’t like the sound of that. 

The texts she sent him were always a myriad of questions about Aelin. His mom wanted to know what she was like, where she was from, what her hobbies were. Most of that could be found on a google search, but his mom was old and barely had a grasp on the internet. Iris Whitethorn preferred books and newspapers to even learning what the internet had to offer. It was the only reason he had hope that he would beat the world to the pregnancy announcement. Regardless, the papers weren’t how he wanted to find out about his relationship, and she had.

He needed to be a better son. 

That little fact hit him harder when he looked through his texts with his mom. All of them were incoming with varying questions about the girl in the photos. What was going on? Who was she? She’s awfully pretty. Rowan felt like he barely had any answers, so he hadn’t responded. While he sipped down his green juice and devoured his breakfast, he vowed to respond to her later today. A phone call was in order for all the shit he had to relay to her at this point. 

Was a phone call enough to tell her about the baby? Probably not. Fuck. 

Rowan’s hands raked through his hair while he gave himself a moment to groan his frustrations into the universe, hoping the answers would come back to him. There was no time for him to go see her soon. By the time he found a date that would work for both he and Aelin, it might be too late. She could be showing by then with rumors swirling through the media. He had no fucking idea how to tell her anyway. A flurry of emotions ran through his mind while he changed and got ready for practice. All of this would, unfortunately, have to wait.

Nothing yet from Aelin.. Rowan frowned. Sure, it was a bright and early 7 AM, but she was usually already up and getting her day started. He texted her first, wishing her a good day with hopes she felt better. 

Rowan sighed heavily.  The secret he was keeping curled into a ball in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could avoid telling her. Well, avoid wasn’t the right word. He just didn’t have the words to tell her he got a girl he barely knows pregnant and, yes, it’s actually his baby. It was still early, anyway. Still, it wasn’t sitting right with him. He would make a trip to go and see her soon and tell her then.

>> Mom: I want to know about this girl you’re seeing, Rowan Matthias.

<< Rowan: I’ll call you after practice. I promise.

>> Mom: You better. 

~*~

Last night had been fun, but all the sprints and drills during practice were making Rowan nauseous. For the second time today, sweat was streaking down his entire body while he squirted water into his mouth. Gods, Coach was on one. It was like he knew every time there was a night out and made them work even harder. 

Rowan was relieved when they were told to hit the showers. The guys followed behind him, Fenrys groaning about a persistent headache between his eyes. Even Lorcan, who was an absolute tank when it came to alcohol, was cursing and moaning. It would have been funny if he wasn’t in the same boat.

The steaming shower he stepped into was almost holy. Hot water pelted his body while he washed himself, taking a little more time than usual because of his ailments. He could feel his muscles loosening with every breath he took and Gods, it felt so good. When he finally wrapped it up, he quickly dried and got dressed. His friends were teasing each other while they did the same. 

“Go a little too hard last night, Lorcan?” Fenrys crooned, wrapping his golden curls into a messy bun atop his head.

“I really don’t think you want to go down this road, pup,” he grumbled back. A smile twitched at the corner of Rowan’s lips as he grabbed his phone, deciding now was as good a time as any to call his mother. 

“Hello?” Her sweet voice chimed after two rings.

“Good morning, mama,” he said, zipping his bag and tossing it over his shoulder. 

“You’ve been ignoring my calls.” Not a question, though there was some hurt behind her words. Rowan rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Just busy with practice and games.”

“Is that Aelin?” Fenrys called from across the room. He pulled a shirt on and began to walk over to Rowan. “Is she still sick?”

“Is who still sick?” His mom inquired. Again, he sighed and shot Fen a warning look. 

“Aelin has been feeling under the weather,  Mom,” he emphasized her name and Fenrys looked immediately apologetic. Great. 

“Well, what's the matter? I might have some good advice, you know. You better be taking care of that girl. Has she gotten you sick?” 

“Nausea, maybe a stomach bug, no I’m not sick, and no I’m not taking care of her. She won’t let me. Aelin is so independent that I can’t get her to depend on me for anything right now.” It was probably a bigger truth than he was ready to share with his mom, much less all his friends. He made his way out of the locker room and Fen shouted an apology after him. Rowan flippantly waved his hand as the door shut behind him.

“Well, let's start with some remedies. I have just the thing that will help. It’s a tea I drank through my entire pregnancy to fight the nausea and it works like a charm.” Rowan almost choked at the mention of a pregnancy. Did she somehow know already? She couldn’t find out from anyone but him. It would destroy her if she discovered the news on a tabloid site. Fuck. 

“That’d be great, I’ll send it to her.”

“Better yet, I’m due for a visit. How about I drive up and make it for her myself?” Shit. Fuck. Godsdamn the universe.

“Mom, right now isn’t really–”

“It’s never a good time,” she interjected. “You’ll be busy regardless. I don’t mind a little time on my own while you practice. It’ll give me plenty of time to get to know Aelin, too.”

“She lives in Varese,” he told her, trying to get her to back down. 

“I know she does. Tabloids have pictures of you hanging around there any chance you get. And anyway, Fenrys has loose lips. Tell me her name again?”

“If you’ve seen the news articles, you know her name already.” There were plenty of grainy pictures of them sipping drinks at The Neon Moon, plus pap shots of them everywhere else. Rowan wasn’t used to quite so much attention. Sure, there were the occasional paparazzi that snapped photos of him around town, but with Aelin at his side it seemed to be more than usual. 

“Aelin. Her name is Aelin Galathynius,  but you already know that.”

“Well, since you aren’t taking care of Aelin I’m going to drive up and do it myself. Sometimes us women just don’t know how to ask for help when it’s needed. Besides, the poor girl doesn’t have her own mother close by to lean on for support. Maternal comfort goes a long way.”

There was no getting out of this. Maybe it would be a good thing, he pondered. They could tell her in person and maybe she wouldn’t go ballistic if Aelin was there. Stressful as all hell, but maybe it could work if he could get Aelin to come stay for a day or two. 

“Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow, then?”

“I’ll be there in the morning,” she swore before hanging up. Now he just had to get Aelin to come down.

Rowan slumped down into his car and immediately called Aelin. His thumbs drummed on the steering wheel while it rang and rang, his anxiety building in his gut. A thousand things ran through his head: Was it too soon? Would it be weird? What if they didn’t get along?

“Hey you,” she said when the call connected, her voice like music to his ears. It soothed his anxiety, just talking to her. Just by being her.

“Hi.” It was impossible to stop the smile that crept over his face as he dropped his bag in the backseat and got in his car.  “I have a favor to ask and an apology to give.”

“I’m intrigued, do go on.” Rowan chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. Hervoice filtered through his car speakers, surrounding him wholly. 

“Fenrys accidentally told my mom you’ve been sick and now she’s determined that you need her special tea and maternal comfort.”

“Ah,” she said, clearing her throat. “So is the favor meeting your mom? And is the apology for Fenrys?”

“The favor is that you come stay with me for a few days to meet her and let her mother hen you to death because there was no way I was getting out of this scenario while talking to her. But if you refuse I can try to get her to back down.” When Aelin laughed, a weight lifted from his chest. “The apology is for roping you into this mess. And for Fen.”

Aelin laughed, “I accept both. I’d love to meet your mom. Plus, maybe we can tell her about the baby while she’s here.”

 Rowan was relieved she was so open to the whole ordeal. His heart squeezed in his chest that she wanted to meet his mom. Fuck, he was so gone for this girl. He was on a free fall and only she could catch him. He wasn’t looking forward to finding out what would happen if she didn’t.

“She’ll be here tomorrow. Is that okay?” He could hear papers shuffling in the background, the sound of a zipper and a small sigh from his girl.

“I’ll pack a suitcase and be there in a bit. I’ll bring my work stuff with me and set up in your office, if that’s okay.”

“What's mine is yours,” he swore. 

“Okay,” she said softly, and Rowan could hear the smile in her voice. He was grinning, too.

“Okay. See you soon.”

“See you soon, Ro.” Ro. Was she trying to get him to crash his car from a heart explosion? He disconnected the call as he pulled into his driveway and took a deep breath. This was a good thing, right?

~*~

“Ro?” Aelin called out, stepping through the front door. He’d left it unlocked for her in case he was busy when she arrived. 

“Kitchen!” He called back, so Aelin slipped off her shoes and padded through the house until she rounded the corner and saw him standing at the stove.

His sleeves were pushed up above his elbows and an apron was around his neck. A cutting board of vegetables sat on the counter while he stirred something in a pan. It smelled devine, and wasn’t making her stomach turn which was a huge win. Everything was setting it off lately.

“I know tacos are a safe food right now, so I thought we’d try fajitas to switch things up,” he said over his shoulder, turning briefly to grab the cutting board. The contents were dumped into the pan and she circled the counter, pausing beside him. Rowan stirred with his left hand and wrapped his right around her waist. Her stomach fluttered at the contact, but she didn’t pull away. 

“Thank you,” she said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“Always.” Aelin smiled up at him before stepping away to get a glass of water. 

They made small talk while he cooked, everything from their days to little tidbits of what his mom was like. According to Rowan, she was the best mom in the world. He gushed about her cooking, about how he raised her alone after his father passed away when he was ten. She’s fiercely loyal to her people, and loves Rowan more than anything in the world. If the sun revolved around people, Iris would surely revolve around Rowan. He insisted it would be the same for Aelin and their baby. 

The thought warmed her. This baby would have the best community in their corner. Not having to worry about the lack of a village was a huge relief. Everyone was dying to be involved on both sides, and many of Rowan’s teammates contacted Aelin just to check in on her. Aedion and Lysandra were already vying for favorite aunt/uncle. No, this baby would never know what it was like to not feel wholly loved by their people.

After dinner, they cleaned up despite Rowan’s protests that she didn’t need to do anything. Aelin dismissed him with the wave of her hand and worked on the dishes while he put away leftovers. He was right; it was a refreshing change to eat something other than tacos. 

“I’m gonna shower,” she sighed, arms stretched above her head. Even though it was still pretty early, she was more than ready to don pajamas, curl up, and decompress from work and the drive down. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” was his reply, and she knew he meant it more than just right now. Biting her lip, she slipped out of the kitchen and made her way upstairs. 

The best shower in the house was Rowan’s. It had a rainwater shower head that felt so luxurious that Aelin swore she was going to get one for her house in Orynth. As soon as she stepped in she felt the day simply melt away. Hot water trickled down her skin while she carefully washed her body, then her hair. She really needed to get this showerhead. It was the height of luxury at the moment. 

After drying off and changing clothes, she went back downstairs and found Rowan on the couch. He had changed clothes and was now in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Something about it was really doing something for Aelin. His tattooed bicep was along the back of the couch and she wanted to trace the lines everywhere they turned. When he looked up at her and grinned, something fluttered in her stomach. Gods, she was so screwed.

“Good shower?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, sitting close enough that his fingers brushed her shoulder. Rowan toyed with the ends of her damp hair for a moment, and Aelin was stunned at how comfortable the silence was. Nothing was being said, or communicated in any way, but it was such a cozy silence. She’d never experienced anything quite like it before. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Rowan said carefully, “but you look exhausted.”

Aelin took no offence, laughing as she rubbed her face. It was true. She wasn’t sleeping much, and when she did it was restless. Her hips were already beginning to ache and she wasn’t looking forward to it getting worse as her body grew and changed. Still, she was so tired. Most of the time she was asleep by nine-thirty. 

“Because I am,” she sighed. “There’s so much that needs to be done for the foundation before the office launch  here. I feel like I’m treading water because there’s always more to do. I love my job, and I can’t wait to see the effects it has on the community, but I think I forgot how much it is. All the events I need to organize, getting the office picture perfect. My team is amazing but some days I get asked so many questions that I never want to speak again.”

“What you’re doing is fantastic, and I will be at every event I can be. However, if you need to take a breather, take one. A day off is okay. You can do all of this, I don’t doubt it, but you are growing a human. It might slow you down a little, but you’ll get it taken care of.”

“I haven’t told my staff yet. I want to wait until my next scan to make sure everything is good before I tell anyone else. Except your mom, if you want to do that while she’s here. Family doesn’t count. Anyway, I think they’ll understand my work-from-home days a little more once the cat is out of the bag. I think Luca is on to me, though. Kid is way too perceptive and I’ve been spending way too much time with him working on the website.” 

“I’m sure they’re sympathetic now. Plus, you’re getting everything done you need to, right?”

“Of course. I think that’s part of why I’m so tired. I’ll stay until like eight, and then go home and eat, shower, and go to bed.” She sighed again, fingers running through her hair.

“Why don’t you get some sleep? My mom can be a lot,” he admitted. 

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer. I swear I’m usually a lot more fun than this,” she laughed, and he joined in with her. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb running over her skin. There were calluses on his hands that always felt strangely good. 

“Goodnight, then.” His hand dropped from her face and she was glad. Heat was creeping onto her cheeks and if she didn’t get out of there, she would look like a tomato soon. It was ridiculous that his touch set her aflame so easily. Aelin wasn’t sure she would ever get used to it. 

Upstairs, she wasn’t sure which room to enter. There was Rowan’s room, and then the guest room. They didn’t say anything about sleeping together tonight. Hell, Rowan didn’t broach the topic at all. It was tempting to crawl into his bed, but she turned into the guest room, which was unofficially her room, instead.

~*~

Aelin couldn’t sleep. It was just after ten, and she had maybe dozed off once for a few minutes. Otherwise she was watching the ceiling fan whirring above her head. The house was so quiet. Much better than her apartment, where upstairs neighbors were sometimes a little heavy footed. Not too long ago,she heard Rowan walk down the hall and close his door. She chewed on her lip, gave herself a little pep talk, then pushed out of bed and opened her door before she could talk herself out of it.

Two knocks on his door, followed by a soft, “Rowan?” 

“Come in, love,” she heard, muffled through the door. Once it was open she was treated to a shirtless Rowan sitting up in bed. Glasses were perched on his nose and he seemed to be reading a book. 

“Hey,” she said, lip tucking between her teeth while she rocked back and forth on her heels.

“Hi,” he chuckled, shutting the book and putting it on his nightstand. “What are you doing awake?”

“I can’t sleep. Plus, like, your mom is under the assumption that we’re together so we probably need to sleep in the same room anyway. Why not start now? And we’re not not together, so it would be weird if we weren’t sleeping in the same room. You know?”

“I think if we’re not not together, that means we’re together, Aelin.” A smile was tugging at his lips and she wanted to kiss it until she saw all of his teeth. She took it as her chance to walk over and get in bed with him, wiggling down in the blankets and pillows until she was fully enveloped in his scent. 

“Call it what you want,” she shrugged, the blanket covering the little grin on her face. 

“What are you calling it?” Rowan tilted his head slightly, glasses sliding down his nose. Gods, he was so… there were so many words for what he was right now. All of them were positive because this look and banter was really doing it for her. 

“You know I’m calling you my boyfriend.” Aelin’s eyes rolled in an attempt to seem nonchalant. 

“You can trust me, Aelin,” he said softly, hand reaching to cover hers. Their fingers slid together seamlessly, and more of that fluttery nonsense took over her stomach. She licked her lips, eyes focused on their hands.

“I know.” And she did. They barely knew each other, yet she knew he was becoming a safe person for her. There weren’t too many of those anymore. Her inner circle was small, yet she knew that because of Rowan, it was growing. 

“Yeah?” His finger bumped beneath her chin and she looked at him, fighting the tears that threatened to pour over.

“You’re going to make me cry, and then your mom is going to be here in the morning while I have a puffy, red face. I’ll look like a little tomato and I’ll be really mad about it.” Rowan snorted, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

“A beautiful tomato,” he said, lips pressing to the top of her head like he couldn’t help himself. Beneath the blankets, she was smiling. 

“Maybe after your mom leaves… maybe we can talk before I go back to Wendlyn?” She lowered the blankets beneath her chin and looked up at him. A single tear had managed to escape and he wiped it with his fingertips. 

“It’s a date,” he promised, nodding his head almost too-eagerly. Clearly he was waiting for this moment. Aelin hated that she had to be so guarded these days, but there was too much damage in her past to not be. Her heart had been crushed into oblivion before, and she couldn’t risk it. Now that a baby was involved? Gods, she had to be so, so careful. 

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” She finally asked, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth. Rowan’s eyes widened at the inquiry, mouth opening and closing several times before he found letters to string into a sentence.

“I wasn’t sure you were ready for that,” he said slowly, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. Aelin smiled, a whisper of a laugh escaping her mouth.

“I’m ready to be kissed, Rowan.”

It seemed that he didn’t have to be told twice. Rowan leaned in and kissed her lips softly as if testing the waters. Aelin was the one to melt into him, fingers braiding into his hair to pull him closer. He groaned quietly, parting his lips and she was more than eager to sweep her tongue against his. 

Gods, yes. This. There had been moments where she wondered if the tension was only that. Just tension that fizzled out after the first entanglement. The feeling in the pit of her stomach told her otherwise. Butterflies fluttered up her ribcage and she gasped. It wasn’t a one time thing. If she played her cards right… she could have this forever. 

The thought clanged through her, sobering her enough that she tugged on his hair a little. Rowan groaned and it really didn’t help dampen her desire. The sound was delicious, something she wanted to eat like cake until he had nothing else to give her.

“Rowan,” she finally sighed, his lips closing over her pulse. Fuck, it felt so good. “We said slow.”

“This is slow,” he murmured, teeth grazing her skin and tongue doing the laziest swirl over her skin. Oh, gods.

“Slower,” she laughed, taking his face in her hands and pulling him away herself before her resolve withered into nothing. 

“Whatever you want,” he promised, licking his lips. Rowan’s cheeks were flushed and she had to lean in and kiss them both, planting one more on his lips. It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t melting at the sight of him, rosy cheeks and crinkles by his eyes from smiling. 

“I know it’s not easy–”

“I’ll do anything you want. I’ll wait until you’re ready. Not just for sex. For everything.” Everything. Aelin’s heart fluttered madly in her chest, shaking her ribcage. Wasn’t that the part she was most scared of? It excited the hell out of her at the same time. Everything with Rowan was scary, and yet… Aelin found herself looking forward to it. 

It was easy to curl up in his arms, head on his chest. One of his hands traced sleepy shapes over her back and shoulders, and when sleep came to claim her, she had no say in the matter. Feeling safer than she had in awhile, she counted the beats of his heart until she fell asleep. 

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[freehologramreview]

Never thought a mutual would reblog this so, these are all blanket statements for these and calling them all scams by default is hurting people more than helping.

If you see trends like emojis, the same phrasing etc. KEEP IN MIND this is coming from a country where english isnt their first language and people there who are DESPERATE are copying what seems to successful for better and quicker funding because you know....THEY ARE TRYING NOT TO DIE.

I have seen bloggers who have been verifying these diligently, something noone calling them scams is EVER willing to do, being called scammers as well with no concrete evidence to back these claims up. Why, do tell, do the Palestinians have to write you personalized messages in perfect english with the right ratio of emoji-to-text which you will ignore anyway and the people calling them fake have to provide zero evidence aside from "They are probably scams because theres a lot"

I get not wanting to give scammers money and if theres 100% evidence I will go "Well dont I feel stupid" but all the things so far have been "gofundme doesnt operate in Palestine" which is true but you neglect that they HAVE FAMILY OUTSIDE THEIR COUNTRY AND PEOPLE CAN SET THEM UP OUTSIDE AND BRING THEM THE MONEY WHEN THE BORDER IS OPEN. Aside from that reblogging these "scams" doesnt give anyone money yet and you are welcome to do whatever proofing you need to verify them if you dont want your hard-earned money to go to a scummy scammer but ACTUALLY DO THE RESEARCH THEN. Until then all of these are just things to tell yourself you are still doing the right thing by ignoring them because "They're probably secretly all bad people anyway" NOT TO MENTION THAT ACTUAL VERIFIED FUNDRAISERS ARE GETTING LESS OF A CHANCE BECAUSE THEY ARE ALL LABELED AS FAKE.

If you are convinced and cant (or dont want to) do any research into the legitimacy of these campaings THEN JUST IGNORE THEM ITS THAT EASY.

You are not obligated to complain online where people escaping a genocide can see it (and they have internet...theres this whole thing with esims? you remember??? and if you assume ass palestinians dont have phones then you have more than one problem to sort out)

[professionaljester]

love my bad mental health, love being suicidal all the time

[loserelf]

maybe i do need to go to therapy bc its probably not good that ive been living on autopilot and the last 7 years went by so fast but also bc i was deliberatly Wanting the time to go by to put as much space between me and the events of 2017-2020 as possible all while somewhat knowing my young adulthood was slipping me by and now both my teenage years and my early 20s are gone and i still feel like my 19th birthday was yesterday yeesh!!

[medicinemane]

There are zero movies I'm hearing about that I want right now

No, I don't want yet another remake

No, I don't want liveaction for something that should have been animated... and... also should suck less

Could (one) of these things be good? Maybe, people often put a lot of work and soul into making something even if the idea is a soulless cash grab by studio execs... but I just don't want it and I'm not even gonna look

I'm just tired of remakes and making shows and movies based off random shit like videogames... nah, fuck you, I can just watch the original movie... I can just do anything other than watch your movie

[suncoved]

OVERPROTECTIVE! — RAFE CAMERON (smut 18+, mdni.)

pairing; dealer!rafe cameron x toppersister!reader

summary: when your friend dragged you to the cut of one of the pouges infamous keggers, you didn't expect to be dragged home by your brothers dealer best friend.

warnings: kinda innocent!reader, talk of drugs, partying and drinking. smut 18+ only please please! (haven't proof read...)

"this is such a bad idea" you murmured quietly, glancing across at the boneyard from your friend kate's pristine white jeep.

"oh cmon, it'll be fun. and anyways, how could your brother find you all the way out here. he would rather die than set foot on the cut" kate rambled, yanking out of the car while her heels made a crunching sound against the gravel of the carpark.

on the ride over from figure eight, you had gnawed at your bottom lip so hard you wouldn't be surprised if you drew blood. topper would have actually killed you if he found out what you were doing.

you had been to parties on your side of the island before, and even those made your brother mad, but never had you stepped foot at a kegger on the cut.

but, here you were at 11:15 on a saturday night, about to 100 per cent regret every decision you had ever made that led to this. but it was your senior year! and you were sick and tired of letting topper dictate what you did and didn't do.

you had come to the realisation that you weren't really sure why topper cared so much about what you did. i mean sure he was your twin brother, who would never make you forget how he was in fact 2 minutes older, but he had never really cared what you did before.

i mean sure, you guys were close and he cared if you were safe or not, but it was only really until he became closer with his friend rafe that he started getting really, really overprotective.

rafe had been lurking around your house since you were little, always bossing topper around and annoying that absolute shit out of you. but never saying any more than one word to you before pulling topper into any mess he was about to get into.

"cmon cmon, lets go party!" kate exclaimed, pulling you out of your thoughts and also onto the soft sand of the boneyard.

it was safe to say that this party was far from the ones you had witnessed before. there were people do coke on any surface you could see, the distinct smell of weed filling your nostrils and kegs upon kegs lined up against the fallen branches.

"miss thorton! what brings you around my neck of the woods!?" you hear a voice yell behind you before an arm is slung quickly around your shoulder.

"shush jj! im undercover" you joke, pushing your perfecting manicured finger against your lips. "whoops! my bad princess" he slurred, swaying against your body as he pushed more and more of his weight onto you.

you giggled, swiftly setting him down on the sand before he made you topple over. "he'll be fine, just needs a little rest" john b beams to you, passing you a red solo cup full of suspicious liquid before you could decline.

you smiled at him and held the cup weighing heavily in your hand, noticing kate was long gone from your side. you looked around nervously, what were you doing?

you didn't drink, you didn't do drugs, you didn't party.

you were the classic good girl of kildare county, and your skirt was way to precious to you to get anything spilt on it. but you were here, so why don't you just enjoy yourself right?

you looked down at the liquid in the cup, it fizzing and foaming as it stared back at you. you took a cautionary sip before nearly gagging, the acid making its way down your throat.

"yuck!" you whispered to yourself, pulling a face as you rested the cup down on a branch so someone could pick it up later.

the music pumped in your ears, people dancing and swaying on the shore of the beach as the lights of the street only dimly lit the area up.

you heard your name being yelled behind you as kate embraced you in a hug, swaying and smelling of weed. "i have to introduce you to someone, apparently he sells the best weed on the island! why don't you try some! but shush let's not tell your brother" she slurred her words as she rambled on, pulling you across the sand into the crowd of people.

"you know kate, i don't think this is the best idea" you muttered, letting her guide you where the music was louder and the smell was far more intense.

"it will be fun! and we can tell him its your first time! i mean apparently, he is not a nice guy but you have a knack for changing that about people!" you rolled your eyes at her babble, your feet suddenly stopping once you had arrived at your apparent destination.

you were still hidden behind kate as she approached the man sitting on a broken branch, his legs spread wide and hands sifting through money.

"hey! my friend really wants to try your stuff, think you could help us out?" kate asked, pulling you out from behind her as a small gasp left your lips.

"y/n? what the fuck are you doing here!" rafe spat, gathering all his cash and baggies and stuffing them in his pocket. "you two know each other?"

you shifted your eyes from his angered face, jaw clenching and fists bunched tightly together.

"yeah, and you're an idiot for bringing her here. get the fuck outta my face. cmon" rafe gestured to you, taking your hand in his and leading you to the car park.

you looked back at kate before staring at rafe in front of you, unable to fight against his grip. you had been at this party all of 20 minutes and all you had done is be dragged around before having to go home!

"rafe stop!" you exclaimed as he pulled you up the beach and towards his blue truck in the car park.

how did you not notice that?

"what the heck are you doing?" you asked, him swinging the passenger door open for you as you stared at him like he was an idiot.

"get in." he said, running lifting his arms up to run his hands through his hair as you noticed a gun tucked into his waistband.

what in the actual fuck was happening?

"what! no way! since when do you deal drugs and carry guns? i don't even know who you are anymore and there is no way i'm getting into your car with you."

he rolled his eyes at you statement, putting his ringed hands against your waist and lifting you into his car effortlessly.

you huffed as he smiled at you sarcastically before closing the passenger door and jumping into the driver's side.

he looked at you expectingly as you stared at his face, his eyes a beautiful shade of blue and his lips pink. he rolled his eyes once again before reaching over and doing up your seat belt for you, his touch making goosebumps on your cleavage as he fastened it.

you sat in silence for a second before he started driving in the direction of figure eight, his large hands gripping tightly on the wheel.

"what were you actually fucking thinking? going to a party on the cut, who knows what could have happened to you if i wasn't there" rafe spat, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to look at you before turning his head back.

"what does it matter to you rafe, i just wanted to have fun and i don't regret it. so tell topper i don't care." you huffed, sinking into your seat, not even believing the words coming out of your own mouth.

"like topper would care anyways" he stated, clenching his jaw so hard you thought it would actually break. "what?"

"toppers not the one that cares." you looked at him dumbfounded, taken aback by his statement. "what do you mean rafe?"

he ignored your statement as he kept driving into the night, the uneasy silence resting heavily in the air. you tapped your fingers against the armrest, watching the trees blur into a haze of green before tannyhill came into view.

"i thought you were taking me home?" you asked, your question again going unanswered until the car came to a halt.

"you're staying at mine, get out." he huffed, walking around the car before swinging your door open and helping you down.

"why would i stay at yours? you're my twin brother's best friend. stop being an idiot rafe" you huffed, halting your movements and staying right out the front of his door.

"you're not the one to be calling shots" rafe said, once again pulling you by the hand up to his room. before you could think he sat you down softly on his bed, kneeling down to look you in the eyes as if to see if you were high or not.

"go away, i'm not high. and you do not have the moral high ground right now"

"shut up" he sighs, resting his large hands down on your bare thighs. "what?" you gasp, ready to smack his touch away the second you could bring yourself to do it.

"do you actually not know how much you drive me crazy?" rafe asks, his stare almost burning holes in your eyes as he looked at you. "i've had my eye on you since we were 3, making sure you never came to me asking for coke or weed, because you know what i would do if anything happened to you? i would go fucking insane."

"rafe..." you sighed, bringing your hand up to his warm cheeks and he leant into your touch. "no. no, don't say anything, i don't wanna hear it-"

he was cut off by your lips touching his, your hands lifting to feel his spiky buzz cut underneath your fingertips. he immediately starting kissing you back as if before this he had never taken a breath before, and you were his oxygen.

his searing touch made its way under your shirt and up to the bottom on your bra, running his hands up and down as he pushed you back so you lay on his soft sheets.

you felt him pull at the hem of your cami, the dainty pink fabric peeling off swiftly as you were left in your bra and skirt. he looked up at you with love-drunk eyes, pupils dilated and black while he started kissing down your neck.

"wait- rafe, no. we can't. topper." you gasped as you somehow leaned even more into his touch as the words came out of your mouth. he halted his actions for a moment, pulling back so he could look at you.

"fuck topper" he spoke as he pulled his shirt off swiftly, his perfect tan skin and abs making you bite your lip. you squealed as he picked you up and brought you to the top of his bed, leaning your head softly against the pillows.

"you're so pretty, so so pretty baby" he uttered, unzipping your skirt and pulling it down your soft legs. "we don't have to do this yeah? only if you want."

you didn't think you could actually adore this man more, but he surprised you every word he spoke.

"please rafe" you whined, dragging your acrylics against his abs as you watched the goosebumps from your touch.

he let out a quiet "fuck" as he smashed his lips onto yours once more.

you reached down to the waistband of his pants feeling around before pulling back as you felt an unfamiliar metal-shaped object.

he looked down at your movements as you stopped "whoops, my bad ma." he pulled the gun out of his waistband and tucked it under the pillow you weren't resting against, going back to kissing you as you giggled.

he undid his belt swiftly, pulling down his pants and boxers until his hard member came into view. you didn't even have time to think of how massive it was as he went down to kiss you once more, pulling your panties aside and entering a finger into you.

"shit, you're so fucking tight." he sighed against your lips.

you whined in response, reaching down to his cock and pumping it in your hand. "can't wait any more rafe."

"its ok baby, i've got you"

you gasped loudly as he first entered into you, the large intrusion making you whine in both pain and pleasure.

"yeah, cmon. you can take it baby. you can take it"

his strokes were slow and powerful, filling you up until you felt as though you would snap. his groans soon filled the room as he pounded into you.

"you're so so good to me baby, can't believe we haven't done this sooner. gonna make you mine ma" he moaned, that statement bringing you over the edge as you came around him with a moan.

"thank you thank you thank you" you chanted, your acrylics surely making bright red scratches to his muscly back while you came.

"no, baby. thank you."

[rainrot4me]

Return The Favor

Summary: Stumbling in on your neighbor’s chopped up body, an unlikely friendship forms between you and Toby. Striking a deal, you agree to help the killer and his friends, buying them necessary prescriptions. But when one visit turns to multiple, Toby becomes curious, finding a not so subtle love note hidden away.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Mentions of death, explicit description of a dismembered body, decomposition, death, gore, obsession, vomit, throwing up, blood (non-sexual), blood (sexual), vaginal fingering, degradation, biting, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, vaginal, choking, gagging, somnophilia, rough, Toby literally goes insane about you, virginity kink, first time, desperation

Words: 9.4k

A/N: This shit long asl I'm so sorry... Characters in this story are not canonical!

It’s said that when there’s a dead body nearby, your body can sense it before your brain can. 

It’s almost like instinct, a survival nature programmed into your brain. It’ll start with goosebumps and chills running all over your body as if you were being watched, this uncomfortable sensation that you just can’t rationalize. Then the anxiety sets in, body aching and sweating for no apparent reason but it just knows there’s something wrong. 

Finally, when you’ve finally choked it up to just being your imagination, that’s when you’ll smell it. Throat instantly closing and nostrils flaring at the putrid stench of rot and gore. It’s incomparable, no amount of food poisoning or disease compares to the sickness you feel in your stomach at the smell of a human body decomposing. Every instinct in your body pleading and begging you to get out of there, run as far away until you can’t breathe anymore. 

You would know. And it seemed like the boy huddled in front of you did too. 

There was no real reason for you to even be in this house in the first place, but your all-too-good heart guilted you into it. You had just come home from work, mind tired and body sleepy as you unlocked your front door, tossing your bag onto the kitchen table inside. It was well past midnight, the diner you worked at closing way later than normal, but at least you made some good tips. 

Sliding into your bedroom, you changed into more comfortable clothes, tying your hair back before stepping into your kitchen. You gripped the tiny journal lying on the counter, cracking the worn pages open to where you left off, scribbling your thoughts onto the paper. It was your nightly routine, journaling things you saw or did, a coping mechanism suggested by your therapist. It wasn’t for anything intensive, just minor anxiety and self-image problems, always having negative thoughts about yourself. It helped. Glancing up, you looked through the tiny window above your sink, a clear view of your neighbor’s back porch, Mr. Higgs, an older man who made it very difficult to be friendly. He was a hateful guy, always nitpicking your choice of decorations or specific outfits he didn’t find appropriate. A real sweetheart, obviously. 

But compared to his usual eight PM lights out, the living room lamp was still bright, shining directly through his open back porch door. That was odd. As long as you had known this guy, it wasn’t like him to be up this late, let alone be outside. Every instinct told you to just clean up and go to bed, his angry ass probably scooting off a raccoon or something. But you just couldn’t pass up that nagging feeling, your kindheartedness overpowering you. So, sighing, you tossed a hoodie on and slid out your back door, stepping down the porch steps into the cool grass.

You flinched as a flash of brown passed your vision, small and thin against the dark grass. Cooing, you kneeled down, holding your fingers out as Mr. Higg’s old cat, Addy, sniffed the air around you, pressing against your bare legs as she purred. The man was way too protective of his cat. Something was definitely wrong.

Standing again, Addy pranced away, meowing loudly behind you as your bare feet became wet against the midnight dew, grass sticking to your ankles as you walked, arms hugging yourself against the cold. This would probably just end with you getting told to mind your business and stomping back to bed upset, but it was the thought that counted. Gripping onto the porch rail, you stepped up his creaky wooden porch, knocking against the wooden frame of the open door.

“Mr. Higgs? Everything alright?” You called into the room, refusing to go in. There was no response, you knocked again after a couple of seconds. Still nothing. You gulped, rubbing your arms against your sides, nerves wracking you. “Okay. I’m coming in. Don’t get mad 'cause you didn’t answer me.” You called again, pressing past the door and wiping your wet feet on the welcome mat. 

The house was quiet, the only light being the lamp sat on a coffee table adjacent to the old couch. All the furniture had an older look like something out of the eighties, it made you cringe. “Mr. Higgs, are you home?” You shouted down the dark hallway, all the doors shut except for one at the end which you assumed to be his room. Hugging yourself, your legs felt anxious, your mind racing with all the reasons you shouldn’t walk down there. There was no reason for it, this was all just probably some old guy who forgot to shut his door, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling.

Taking a step down the hallway, that’s when it started. Those feelings, like your body can feel shouldn’t be there. The air suddenly grew thick, a nauseating feeling setting in against your chest, pressing down like a conscious weight. But you shook it off, telling yourself it was just you scaring yourself with all of those crime shows, but you should’ve known better.

The door was cracked, moonlight from the open shades pressing against the doorframe, your hand flat against the wood as you pushed the door open. Then came the smell. It was stout, a putrid funk that wafted against the walls, souring the room. The room was dark, pupils blown wide as they fought to see, hand sliding against the wall and searching for a light switch. Your body was tense, senses on high alert against the dark, breathing ragged against the awful stench filling your senses. Your eyes were beginning to water, wondering what in the hell could be stinking this terribly, until you felt the switch, flipping it on.

Your first instinct was to throw up, throat constricting and stomach tightening, but you just couldn’t move. You were petrified by the scene in front of you. Mr. Higgs was there, at least, what you could recognize of him. His head had been cleaved from his body, intensive amounts of blood staining his beige bedsheets. His cheeks were bloated, a gnarly purple color as his veins poked against his forehead, skin wrinkled and soaked in blood as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. They were yellow now, dark veins contrasting against the orbs as puss leaked from every hole on his expressionless face. The rest of his body was scattered, chunks of muscle shredded from his arms and hands like they had been cut off, legs more or less the same. His wide stomach was completely visible, his skin swollen and dark, bloated against the same liquids spilling from his pores. The blood was the worst part. It was just everywhere. Splattered on the sheets, the nightstand, even the walls, specks reaching the roof. You were so lost in your racing thoughts, your heart pounding heavily against your chest as you gripped the door tightly, knuckles white on the frame. You could feel the cold sweat drip down your brow, utter fear chilling your body. 

You wouldn’t have even noticed the tall boy standing in the corner if he hadn’t flinched, eyes wide and locked on you. He was lanky, easily taller than you and pale. No, not pale, more gray. He had curly brown hair that fell in front of his eyes, his freckled cheeks flushed against the bandages across his jaw. A pair of goggles rested amongst his curls, a dark mask covering his nose and mouth. He wore dark wash jeans loose around his hips and a heavier brown hoodie that was stained with dark blood. Oh God. The boy didn’t look much older than you despite his bruise battered skin. But he wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, he was just watching. 

His hands were behind his back, shoulders scrunched against the corner of the dark walls as you pressed back off the door frame, breathing ragged. “Who the hell are you?” You grimaced, tone coming across a lot more confident than you felt. The boy flinched, not out of fear, more like a bodily reaction. He refused to answer, eyes scanning around quickly until he pressed off the wall, sliding to the shuttered window and pinching the blinds open, scanning the night without explanation. That’s when you heard loud boots stepping up the porch steps, head spinning quickly down the hallway. “Shit.” You heard him, the boy’s voice panicked and rough, his boots stepping quickly across the hardwood and into your vicinity. Panic strained you, head spinning back quickly before your vision was filled with his arms wrapping around you, palm slapping over your mouth as he pressed you to his chest. 

You tried to fight back, mumbled pleas against his hand as you shouldered his arms, your back pressed firmly against him. He was dragging you into the room, your feet dragging as you struggled, clawing his arms away but he never budged, practically unaware of the scratches you were leaving on his hands. “F- Fuckin’ quit-” He growled quietly, pressing open the small closet doors and dragging you both in, quickly shutting the door as you heard the boots grow louder down the hallway. A sliver of light shone through the crack in the door, leaving you just enough room to see the gorey scene as you pressed off of him, his muscled arms refusing to let you go.

“Toby?” A scratchy voice called into the room, the figure stepping through the door frame and into your line of sight. At his appearance, you froze completely, your body tense against the boy behind you. His arms gripped tighter, bandaged fingers digging into your cheek as he kept you quiet. He was horrifying. 

This man was taller than the one in the closet with you, pasty skin a sharp contrast against his dark messy hair. His eyes were wide, pupils dark against his reddened scleras. He wore a white hoodie, dark jeans covered just the same with Mr. Higg’s blood. But the worst part, the part that made your heart pump in your throat, was his smile. It was etched in, flesh torn upwards into a mocked smile, teeth exposed from the side of his cheek. The area was mangled, seemingly unhealed as blood dried against the cut. He almost made Mr. Higgs seem not that bad.

“Twitch, come on,” He called again, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket as he strolled around the room, kicking Mr. Higg’s severed foot out of the way. “I’m gettin’ tired. This guy had some good beers and I’m tryna get back home and drink ‘em.” He snickered, turning back out of the room and back down the hallway, his loud boots stomping against the old floors. Who you presumed to be Toby didn’t let you go, arms just as tight around you as you gripping his hoodie’s sleeves tight. “Fine then! If you’re gonna play fuckin’ hide and seek then I’m leavin’ your ass here!” He called throughout the house, your body only untensing when you heard the back porch door slam shut, loud boots thunking down the porch and out of earshot. 

You both waited a couple of seconds, heart thudding in your ears as arms slowly released you, palm unclasping from your mouth. Panicked, you slammed out of the closet, turning around quickly and facing Toby, back pressed against the nearest wall as you searched for something to defend yourself with. “D- Dumbass.” He grit, pressing out of the cramped closet and facing you, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie. The stench of the room pressed harder than ever, making your head dizzy as you pressed out of the room and down the hallway, Toby quick on your heels. “Whoever the fuck you are, whatever the fuck you want, I’m sure Mr. Higgs didn’t have it. Why in God’s name is he in pieces in his bedroom?” You hissed, gagging as the image replayed in your mind, turning into his kitchen and wracking the cupboards. When you found a small plastic cup, you ran water in through the sink, chugging the stout liquid down as you calmed your breathing. Toby stayed in the doorframe, crossing his arms. You probably shouldn’t have let your guard down, knowing full and well what he had just down to your neighbor, but you figured if he was going to he would have already.

“It’s none of y- your business. I don’t k- kill innocents, so you s- shoulda just stayed home, m- missy.” He growled back, stuttering through the words. You tossed the cup in the sink, the plastic clattering against the metal as you turned to face him, running your hands through your hair. “Hard to when you guys so obviously left his door open. The bastards hounded me for years, you’d think I’d be happy about his death, but not fucking like that.” You hissed, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms, bare feet cold against the porcelain tiles. “I mean, Jesus. And I mean, thanks and all for the save back there, but how is killing him and saving me any different? It’s just favoring one innocent over another.” Toby shook his head, sliding past you and tugging a drawer open, shovelling through old receipts until he found the stack he was searching for. He passed it to you, paper crinkling as you skimmed through, old pharmacy receipts for prescription medicine. 

“H- Had the old bastard bu- buying our meds. Paid h- him off and everything. Un- Until he started g- giving us coun- counterfeits, sellin’ u- us out. He h- had to pay u- up somehow…” He huffed, shoving his mask down off of his nose and under his chin, his thin lips chapped against the bandages hugging his cheeks. And of course, he was cute. 

“So he gets shredded?” You had to breathe through that sentence, throat tight with nausea. Toby nodded, a small smirk crooking at the corner of his lips. You grimaced, pressing off of the counter and through to the living room, the old furniture seeming a lot less homey now. You were going home, filing a police report, and praying to God these fuckers didn’t come back to get you instead. 

“U- Uh, might wa- wanna clean up, t- too,” Toby chuckled from behind you. You paused, confused as you looked around, stomach twisting as you looked down. Bloody footprints trekked through the kitchen behind you, a trail leading to your bare feet as you lift your knee, gagging at the sight of Mr. Higg’s blood coating your soles. Toby was laughing, the noise muffled against the ringing in your ears as you hunched over, stomach convulsing as you puked on the hardwood floors, your lunch from work coming back up. Head straining, you panted, wiping your lips. “Oh, s- shit, okay.” Toby hissed, sliding to your side and raising you up, hugging you close to his side. He drug you through the door, stomach still churning as you watched your footprints faintly appear beneath you, purposefully dragging them through the grass to get the blood off. You felt disgusting, giving no fight as Toby brought you to your porch steps, helping you up. He was so bipolar, angry and distasteful for one second, then cautious and endearing the next. It really was like you were dealing with a teenager. 

Addy circled your ankles, her dense fur tickling your skin and making you jump, Toby gripping your arms tighter. “Oh, hi kitty.” You cooed, breathing deep as you kneeled down, scooping her up into your arms as Toby helped you up the rest of the steps. Without asking, he slid open your screen door, helping you both inside as Addy purred against your chest, Toby wary as he stared at her. You dropped her on the floor gently, Toby sliding the door shut as you hunched over your sink, cleaning your mouth and grabbing a rag for your feet. Toby still eyed Addy, fidgeting his nails as he followed her. “Ever seen a cat before? She was Mr. Higg’s.” You chuckled, cleaning the soles of your feet off and tossing the rag into the sink, still feeling unclean. Toby nodded, rubbing his arms nervously as he looked back at you, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah. Us- Used to have one. T- They kinda sc- scare me now.” Smiling, you scooped Addy up again, petting her soft fur as you brought her close to the boy, his neck twitching nervously. 

How could this guy shred a man to pieces, but petting a cat was too frightening for him? You couldn’t understand. Digressing, you gripped his wrist, steadying the twitches as you placed his hand on her back, rubbing gently as Toby flinched, breathing quickly. Addy purred, unbothered by the action as he became more comfortable, fingers playing with her fur before he pulled his hand back, breathing deep.

You were too nice for your own good, too easy at giving the benefit of the doubt. Of course, you would find the redeemable traits in a murderer, heart hurting for this boy who was more or less the same as you. Groaning, you dropped Addy, crossing your arms. “Listen. What you did, it’s… For my own conscience, I can’t let it happen again.” You grit, circling your countertop and sitting on a stool, your journal tucked in front of you as you fidgeted with the pages. “If we can agree, I’ll buy your meds. I have a friend who can write me prescriptions, no questions asked. But I need you to understand, under no circumstances, are you allowed to harm me. I’ll call the cops.” Like the cops could stop these lunatics. But, you needed some type of leverage. 

Toby thought quietly, eyes narrowed as he flinched uncomfortably against Addy rubbing on his shins, purring loudly. If you could hold your end, there would be no trouble, but he had to know he could rely on you. “Th- The meds aren’t for m- me. My f- friends, they need ‘em to function, m- mentally… You g- gotta realize this is- is serious.” Even stuttering his voice was stern, arms crossed as he thought, contemplating. You nodded, brushing your hair from your face as you groaned, realizing how desperately you needed to learn to set boundaries. “I can get them. But you have to keep your end, too.” You hissed back, pinching your fingers nervously. Toby smiled, crossing his heart, literally. Rolling your eyes, you nodded, rubbing your face as you groaned. What the fuck were you even doing? 

“I’ll have them by the end of the week. Come later at night, cops’ll be swarming for weeks thanks to you.” Toby nodded, sliding over to the counter and gripping your journal, tearing a page out as he wrote the list of prescriptions you would need to get. It was a hefty list, some of that shit intense. “Abou- About that,” He slid his mask up over his nose, sliding the screen door open as he stepped out, chuckling. “Do- Don’t go outside. Gonna ma- make it look like a g- gas leak.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he shut the screen, sliding his hood over his head and peeling down the porch steps. Finally taking a deep breath, you stared at Addy, wondering what in the absolute fuck you were doing. Rest in hell, Mr. Higgs.

-

He made it look like a gas leak alright. The house was on fire in minutes, the bright orange flames lighting your room as you heard sirens in the distance, your other neighbors gathered outside their houses as you climbed into bed, groaning your displeasure. Cops and firefighters swarmed for days afterwards, investigating the area thoroughly, but never finding any remains of Mr. Higgs, his body buried somewhere far away. They eventually grew restless, the city quickly cleaned up the charred remains of the house and a new plan for construction was set in soon. It went over smoothly, no one even suspecting a thing. 

The days passed slowly, nervousness building as the end of the week grew closer, feet shuffling as you stood in line at the pharmacy. You got the doctor’s notes easily, already called in and waiting to be picked up as you were handed a small paper bag, the pharmacist eyeing you closely as you hurried out. Once in your car, you rummaged the sack, eyes wide as you read the dosage instructions on each little pill bottle. You read each bottle carefully, cringing at the names of the contents: Thorazine, Prolixin, Haldol, and even Aripiprazole. They were all high-end antipsychotics, the list of treatments for schizophrenia and mania, along with treatment-resistant depression. The last bottle caught your eye, a quick Google search told you it was for tourette's. So his twitching wasn’t just nervousness, huh. Shoveling the sack into your bag, you sped home, Toby well on his way as the sun set low.

The first week was easy, Toby in and out without so much as a hello, nodding his thanks as he bolted back into the woods, eyes dark and heavy. It was easy for you, moving along with your life despite the one night of the week. You felt easier, the boy quick about his stops with some chat, but never hanging around for too long, eyes always scanning the tree line nervously. 

As weeks passed, he grew more comfortable, you learned that he was quick about stopping due to his friends, their curiosity about you making him nervous about losing his ‘dealer.’ You learned to leave his meds on the counter, sometimes not even present when he would sneak in at the late hours of the night, your job taking precedence over your sleep schedule. But with all of this money being spent weekly on medicine, you had to pick up more time at work, everything being paid for out of pocket not to raise suspicion. You were sleeping more, journaling and your hobbies taking less importance until they were practically nonexistent. It was hard, your serving heart refusing to let you rest, making sure Toby got his medication is the most important thing. You were strained, to say the least. 

However, surprisingly, after a couple of weeks, Toby wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He had slid in like he always did, you sat at the counter eating your dinner as you scribbled through the pages of your notebook, summing up the previous days. You were exhausted, Toby making you jump slightly as he shut the screen door, rummaging through the paper sack. “G- Got any more?” He grinned shyly, sliding his mask and goggles off and tossing them onto the counter. You nodded to the fridge, an extra container of leftovers from the diner quickly opened in front of him as he shoveled it into his mouth. “It’s better heated up,” You laughed, shutting your journal as you slid off the stool, gripping the to-go container from him and popping it into the microwave. You both sat there awkwardly, Toby kneeling down to rub Addy’s back as she appeared beneath him, soft purrs echoing. He was still nervous, never petting her for too long before standing back up, the microwave beeping. The food came out steaming, sliding open a drawer and handing him a fork, Toby continued to shovel the food into his mouth. You hissed, holding his arm as the steaming food sizzled inside his mouth, it had to be burning him. “Oh. Y- Yeah, I don’t fe- feel pain. Th’s good, tho- though.” He grinned, slurping up more of the food. He acted like he hadn’t had warm food in forever, stuffing his face and barely giving himself time to chew. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he ate.

The stays became longer after that, his excuse being he was hungry, continuously raiding your fridge until you began to have food ready for him, prepping his meals along with your own. Thirty minutes turned to an hour, to two hours, and then eventually through the night. He would crash on your couch, Addy curled in his lap as the television blared some old movie. That was one of the only times you didn’t see him ticcing, the cat acting as an anchor against his restless body. He looked truly comfortable, using your blankets and pillows to his advantage, beginning to invite himself to stay the night after a while. 

You sat at the counter, Toby snoring loudly as he laid face first into the couch pillow, scribbling into your journal. It was the one thing you had time for, having to get up early for work as the soft glow of the kitchen light lit the pages. Toby was practically pushing himself into your life, his lack of manners and curious mannerisms leading him to take initiative. You were grateful for his friendliness, giving great detail of his missions with his friends and explaining that whole situation. Even still, you were wary. 

But against your better judgment, your relationship with the killer was becoming less transactional. He brought you things to make for dinner, talked with you through your mutual sleepiness, and even took care of Addy when you were too delusional after work. For lack of a better word, he was becoming a friend, showing up for more than just his medication, even sometimes forgetting the bag and having to chase him down. He was infesting your life, arriving earlier than he should and leaving later than you cared for. The end of the week was becoming optional, the screen of your porch door sliding open nearly every night of the week Toby didn’t have a mission. It was annoying but in a comforting way, like you both were becoming closer naturally despite your differences. 

As you heard his snores, you groaned, rubbing your tired eyes as you began to write, letting your pencil guide on the page numbly as you wrote your thoughts. It wasn’t directed at Toby on purpose, but the further you got down the page the further your heart sank, hand fisted in your hair as you rested your elbow on the cold marble counter. “Ah, Jesus…” You grit, scribbling the final few words as you lean back, rubbing your head. The words weren’t lies, more of a hard truth you weren’t willing to accept, chalking it up that you were just tired and desperate. The words could have been about Toby, or they could have been about anyone, you didn’t really care. Sighing, you tore the page out, folding it and shoving it into the back of the book, closing the pages quickly. Sleep sounded much easier as you flipped the kitchen light off, turning the volume of the television down as you trudged upstairs to your room, giving one last glance to the snoring boy and his matching cat.

-

Toby knew his mishaps with you, his moral compass long forgotten the more time he spent inside your home. He told himself it was just easier, food and shelter at his disposal whenever, but he knew better. It was so much more than just picking up medicine for Tim and Brian now, it was a solid relationship, a bond that was forming in his eyes. 

It had been almost four months since the unfortunate death of your neighbor, a smile creeping every time he saw the charred flecks of wood buried in the overgrown grass. You had begun to leave the back door unlocked, reasoning that someone breaking and entering would be less of a hassle than him. That was what Toby really hooked onto the most about you, your humor about everything. Despite your hardships and the emotions you had to overcome, you held a caring heart, compassion always lacing every action. He found it admirable, your humor through your busy life. And, likewise, he did feel bad for making you work so much, tired eyes always hurting his heart whenever you were around. But, it wasn’t like he could get a job, so he helped where he could, cleaning and learning to cook for your sake. He needed this medicine, for his friend’s and his own stability, even at your expense.

You were already nestled at your spot on the counter, writing your thoughts in that damn journal. You barely even looked up as he entered, diving for the fridge as he scooped up Addy with one arm, her purs a nice vibration against his shoulder. Popping the container in the microwave, he leaned in over your shoulder, trying to catch a glance at your scribbling before you shoved him off, closing the book quickly. “Ah, ah, mind yours.” You smiled, forking your own food into your mouth. “O- Oh come on, [Y/N], just a pe- peak.” He smiled back, gathering his food as he began to eat, sliding onto his familiar spot on the couch. It was routine now: where you sat, what he watched, what you both talked about. He explained his latest mission with Masky in more detail than you enjoyed, pushing your food away as you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You both laughed throughout the night before you whisked your food into the fridge, calling your goodnights before heading upstairs. 

Toby continued to watch the television, brushing Addy’s back with his bandaged fingers as he sat his empty container to the side. His curiosity nudging him, he raised up, tossing his trash before he slid to the counter, you all too confidently leaving your journal there. Slipping back onto the couch, he began to flip through the pages, listening closely for your footsteps as he read your entries, smiling as they dated all the way back to your high school years.

It seemed as though everything you thought spilt onto these lines, emotions erratic between every page as he realized just how much of a people pleaser you really were. All through your recent years, it was nothing but service, acting through the goodness of your soul until it felt sickening, fake almost. He cringed, flipping quickly through but finding nothing juicy, no deep dark secrets that he felt were interesting. Sighing, he closed the journal, standing to set it back onto the counter, until a slip of paper fell from between the pages. Smiling, Toby leaned down, arms twitching as he slid the journal back onto the counter, leaning against the marble as he flipped the paper open, reading carefully.

“Sometimes, when I think about it too hard, I get all emotional about myself. I know I put on a front, like everything I do I’m in charge of and can handle, always putting everyone around me first. But what if I wanted to be put first? I do so much for the sake of others but it never seems to be returned, never compensated for the mental strain. Well, maybe I want to. Maybe I want to be loved like I see others, rough and real. I have no clue how I even would, I can barely handle touching myself before I'm overwhelmed. But I just want someone else to take the reins, show me that I don't have to work my brain so hard and can just numb out. That's not too much to ask, right? Just someone who can love me, not some creep or one night thing, someone who cares. If I never ask for anything again, that would be it. Someone who wants me for me.”

He could have died. The brunette’s cheeks dark as he re-read the crumbled page, excitement coursing through him. In his mind, he wanted to storm upstairs and just rattle you then, showing you how good he could treat you. It was like a bomb had gone off, Toby having to pretend like him having a crush on you wasn’t achingly obvious, convincing himself he just didn’t know how to act around women. But now it was clear, his mind racing with a million wants and needs, body spasming under the excitement. 

Convincing himself to leave, he slipped the note into his pocket, body buzzing with excitement as he slid out your door. He would be back, like always. But this time, he would show you what you truly needed, what only he could give you. 

-

Like always, Toby left a note for the medication you needed to pick up, it sometimes changing week to week. Everything looked normal, the usual combination of pills reading off. But as you scanned the bottom, you groaned, shoving the paper into your pocket. Trilafon, Saphris, and… Plan B. As if your desperation for some affection couldn’t have gotten much worse, your heart twisted, a lump growing. Whether it be for some girl he was laying or a girlfriend he already had, you didn’t care, all you wanted was to get the medicine and go. Crawling into your bed sounded like a much more exciting activity than dwelling on the brunette, heart saddened in all the way you knew it shouldn’t. 

To make your night even better, Toby didn’t show. It wasn’t unusual, for him sometimes not to show up for days due to extensive missions. But a part of you longed to see him, especially after today, just to help your mind with the whole morning-after pill situation. So now, instead of imagining him surrounded by his friends on a mission, you imagined him towering over a girl. Strong arms holding her, body contorting to fit against hers… You could’ve been sick, shaking your head as you ate quickly and pressed upstairs, barely petting Addy before you slinked into bed, hauling the covers over your head. 

It was lonely on nights without his presence in your house. But especially tonight, thoughts racing uncontrollably to the point of tears, thick droplets streaking down your face as your chest hurt, longing for a body, any body, to hold close to yours. Maybe you really were just a transactional thing. 

-

Toby smiled as he trekked through the familiar stretch of woods to your house, heart racing in his chest. He had it all planned out, exactly what he wanted to do, his cock already twitching in his jeans. 

He hadn’t shown up tonight on purpose, hanging back at the mansion to take the best shower he could, Ben teasing him about how good he smelled as he was leaving. You had to be well in bed by now, body tired after working all day just for him. He would take care of you, showing just how grateful he was for how much you were giving up just for his friends and him. Pressing past the tree line, he smiled, pulling his hood down as all the lights in your home were out, signaling your retirement. 

Pressing up the steps, he slid the screen door open quietly, careful not to alert you as he clicked it shut. Stripping his hoodie, he tossed it onto the couch, Addy purring light against the cushions. It was warm in your house, black t-shirt hugging his arms as he untucked it from his jeans, climbing up the steps, his mask and goggles quick to come off next. 

He was too excited for his own good, boots stepping quietly against the old hardwood as he slinked to your door, fidgeting with the knob. A rush of your scent blew into his face, your perfume stout in your small bedroom, eyes searching around in the dark space for your bed. It wasn’t hard with your breathing, quiet snores making him smile as he leaned against your mattress, admiring your unawareness. You looked so peaceful, his bandaged fingers tracing your cheeks and brushing your hair from your face, your skin flinching under his touch. “Hi, baby…” He whispered, the pet name sounding right against his tongue as he referred to you, tugging the sheets down. 

Toby always knew how nice of a body you had, you sometimes sauntering around the house with shorts and a t-shirt and making his eyes trail just a little longer than normal. But now, under his cold hands, you were even more gorgeous. You were wearing an oversized shirt, a slight tug at the fabric revealing that you only had panties on underneath, you slightly stirring as his nails brushed your skin. The brunette was excitedly jittering, kicking his boots off as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at your curled body sound asleep. You shifted, rolling onto your back as you breathed deep, stretching your arms before settling back into yourself. Toby could have died, your legs stretching out to rest around him, his cock twitching with interest against your now visible panties. A quiet sigh breathed through your lips.

That was all the invitation he needed. Running his cold hands under your shirt, he felt your warm skin and goosebumps rising as you squirmed under them. Your brows scrunched but Toby pressed further, running his fingers along your waist and up to your tits, palming the mounds gently as he smiled. It was crazy to him just how soft your skin was, not weathered or bruised from missions or nature, perfectly smooth under his axe-calloused hands. Pushing your shirt up to your chest, he gasped at your round tits, the weight so perfect in his hands as he pinched at your nipples, rubbing the nubs gently. Toby was never very sure of anything, always brushing through life at the command of others. But the one thing he was sure about? His love for boobs, especially yours. 

Nudging closer between your legs, he rested your knees on his thighs, leaning down to your chest as he popped a nipple into your mouth, sucking gently. The nub was hard against his tongue, slowly circling as he massaged the opposite one in his palm, pinching your nipple gently. That’s when you began to stir, hands sliding against the bed and unconsciously searching for the cause of your sensitivity. Lazy hands pushed against his face, soft groans echoing in the boy’s ears as he popped off your nipple and moved to the next one. Your hands fingered through his hair, tugging lightly until your eyes were beginning to flutter, your mind slowly coming alive. Toby let off your tit, kissing along your chest and licking a stripe between your tits, humming as he watched your eyes slowly blink open, confusion rocking you. He kneaded your tits gently, tugging at your nipples as you realized what was happening, eyes slowly widening as you strained to sit up against him. “Toby? Wha-” Your voice was scratchy, ridden with exhaustion as the brunette kissed up your neck to your cheeks, pushing you back down as he slotted himself flush between your legs. Slowly realizing what was happening, your cheeks flushed dark, hands pressing against his chest as you squirmed, nervously babbling as your body was still half asleep. “Lay b- back, baby… You’re so ti- tired, let me take c- care of you…” Toby sighed, running his hands back down along your skin, relishing in the way your body nervously shook under him.

You physically could not believe what was happening. This had to be a dream, some sick trick your mind was playing as you felt cold fingers hook under your panties, sliding them down. Heavy eyes wide, you grabbed his arms, clenching your thighs together against his waist. “No- No, wait- I don’t even, I mean, I’ve never-” Toby was already shushing you, gripping your wrists together and kissing your palms before pushing them back down to your sides, resuming his tug down your thighs. “I’ve go- got you. Don- Don’t gotta worry about a- a thing…” He smiled, raising your legs up to slide your panties down the rest of the way, hooking them off of your raised ankles before pulling you down closer to him, pushing your shirt over your head. “Read y- your journal, you don- don't gotta act protective, ba- baby. I know this is what y- you want…” If you weren’t already panicking, you definitely were now. 

You wanted to hound him for snooping through your journal, mouth opening to tell him off. But as his fingers brushed against the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your folds, you lost all train of thought. He was watching you, eyes excited in the darkness of your room as he swiped his thumb closer again, your thighs flinching shut. “Anyone else e- ever touched here before?” He mumbled, pressing his thumb against your plump lips and tugging them open, getting a nice look at the wetness that was already forming between your folds. Shaking your head, Toby lit up, cock pushing hard against his jeans as he had to adjust his position, using both hands to pull your lips apart, sighing at how pretty your cunt was. Just something about knowing that Toby was claiming his stake on you, imprinting his touch for the first time before anyone else could, made something deep inside of him burn. It wasn’t like the brunette got much play himself, hooking up with a girl here and there, but being your first? That already made this so much better than any other girl could even try. 

Sliding his fingers through your wetness, you gasped, hands clutching the pillow behind your head as he groaned, spreading your arousal across your lower abdomen. You whined, thighs begging to clench together as he purposefully slid your juices over your cunt, pressing his thumb down against your swollen clit and jolting your back off the mattress. You had only ever masturbated here and there, your body getting too overwhelmed after one orgasm and forcing you to stop, but would Toby stop? As he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them into his mouth, you doubted his restraint.

“Please be gentle…” You warned, hands planting on the mattress as you sat up, resting on your elbows as you watched Toby bring his digits back down to your cunt. He rolled his eyes playfully, tugging your folds open with his opposite hand as he pressed the tips of his fingers against your entrance, pressing in slowly. “I’ll try…” He laughed, your fingers gripping the sheets tight as you watched his fingers sink in slow, stretching your cunt uncomfortably. His index and middle fingers screwed into your tight walls gently, twisting his wrist to draw a moan from your lips, digits spreading against your gummy walls and making your entrance ache. “Just i- imagine my dick in here…” He cooed, eyes darting between your nervous face and your pretty cunt fluttering around just his fingers, barely even handling them. 

Pressing his opposite thumb against your clit, he began to rub in small circles, dragging your hips further and further off of the mattress until you were practically rolling your hips against him. His fingers probed in and out of your cunt at a slow pace, just enough to make you comfortable with the unfamiliar intrusion, but his arms ached to go faster, curl his fingers until you spasmed. “Toby…” You sighed, his hands moving in time with other as he screwed his fingers inside of you, angling them just enough so they pressed against your tight walls. His name sounded like heaven against your aroused tongue, so quiet but so desperate, secretly drawling for more. “Tell me w- what you want, ba- baby…” The pet name made your face hot, your stomach fluttering as you pressed back into the pillows, running your hands down to your thighs and squeezing the flesh. “I want… more…” You sighed through your arousal, cunt clenching desperately around Toby’s cold fingers, sucking them back inside every time he drew them out. The brunette laughed, pushing his feet under him to push his hips up against your ass, your hips raising off the bed as he fingered down into you. You could feel his cock straining behind his jeans below your raised ass, twitching needily with every tug of his fingers and moan that whined from your throat. His size was overwhelming, making your heart pound as Toby began to curl his fingers, making your eyes shut quickly. 

His fingers pressed so deep in your cunt, curling against your sensitive walls and making your jaw hang, beginning to press against your walls at a steady rhythm. It was like a new fire had lit under Toby, fingers screwing in at a quicker pace and making your stomach clench, face screwing into an overwhelmed feeling. His fingers pumped in, knuckles sinking in through your wetness and gripped by your gummy walls, curling his fingertips just right as he got deep. It was so intense, so rough, just a mess of slick and your wet cunt sounding through the room with every squelch as he abused your clit, swiping left and right quickly. Your thighs twitched and ached with every curl, trying to close around his hand practically fucking you into sensitivity. Your hands wrapped around his forearm quickly, begging his wrists to stop curling abusively inside of you as you tugged your nails into his skin. Toby wouldn’t, continuing to pump his fingers as he stared at your flushed face, cunt squelching embarrassingly loud. “Just a l- little more… Co- Come on…” He groaned, nudging his hips against your bare ass as his fingers milked moans and whines out of you, his fingers glistening with your arousal every time he tugged them out. He couldn’t feel you clawing at his arms, loud groans begging him to let up as your cunt clenched, molding around his thick fingers. 

You could feel your orgasm rolling through you, Toby huffing as the veins in his arms popped, his shoulder muscles straining against his shirt as he watched your face carefully, picking up as your moans became louder. “Gonna come f- for me? Yeah?” He teased, clothed cock twitching against your ass, pushing your cheeks apart as he rutted against you. He curled his fingers quicker, mumbling his arousal as he watched your cunt swell around him, clit throbbing under his thumb. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, stomach tightening and forcing you to sit up, Toby was quick to let off your clit and wrap his arm around your back, holding you up as he pumped your through your cunt squelching, tightening around his digits. Your eyes rolled, teeth grit tight as he palmed your clit, slowing his pace to a slow thrust as you became undone against him. No orgasm of your own had ever compared to that, head light and chest heavy as you breathed quickly, gripping Toby’s shirt tight. 

Refusing to let you go, Toby leaned in, pressing kisses against your neck and licking at your sweat, relishing in the warmth around his digits. You whined, cunt sensitive as he tugged his fingers out, his skin raw and pruned against the wetness coating his digits. Your folds were absolutely drenched, Toby spreading his fingers through your lips and pushing his sopping fingers over your warm thighs wrapped around him. “God, y- you’re so wet-” He gasped, pressing his fingertips back against your clit as he laid you back, gripping your tit. Your mind panicked, cunt flashing with sensitivity as he began to rub against your clit, swiping left and right against the rub quickly. “Toby- Stop- Toby, please-” You cried, breath catching in your throat as your stomach clenched, his fingers pressing hard as he pinched your nipples, eyes trained on your wet pussy. “You e- ever squirt before?” He smiled, transitioning fast between digging his fingers into your cunt and pulling them back out to swipe against your clit. It was nauseating, cunt crying desperately for relief as he dug nails into your tits. Gasping loudly, you gripped his arms, knees screwing tight against his sides as you cried out, hips bucking up against his hands. 

Every time his fingers slipped into your entrance, they squelched loudly, fluttering around the intrusion before desperately aching as they tugged out and moved onto your clit. “Squirt li- like a whore, m- mkay? Quit fightin’.” He hissed, letting his hand off your tit and scooping under your left knee, pushing it back to open your cunt wider, spreading your legs further apart. Your head was dizzy, heart pounding as you gasped for air, panting at every push of his fingers. You were already quick to cumming, but it felt weird, not that normal clench you felt in your stomach, more of a strain against your cunt itself. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as he forced your pussy against his will, ruining you. 

As he swiped his fingertips down hard against your clit, your entrance clenched, mouth opening wide as you cried out, hips bucking up as you felt your cunt squirt, thighs trembling hard. There was literally nothing to compare it to, mind hazy as you sprayed onto his black shirt, his fingers digging into your entrance and pushing more juices out of your swollen folds. Toby was smiling, moaning his approval as he rubbed your clit softly, pushing the last of your orgasm out as you strained against the mattress. “Gunna fu- fuck you dumb, baby…” He growled, tugging the soaked shirt over his head and tossing it as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down and off his legs as his cock hung heavy against your drenched cunt. You couldn’t even react, head spinning as Toby gripped your hips, pushing you onto your side as he grabbed your ankle, pulling it onto his shoulder and straddling your other. 

Neck craning with excitement, he teased the tip of his swollen cock between your folds, slicking himself up with your ruined juices. “This is wh- what you wanted, is- isn’t it?” He smiled wildly, pressing his cock into your ruined cunt, groaning loudly as you swallowed him in, warmth gripping tight as he gripped your leg, other hand stable on your tit. You groaned, face turned into the pillow as he began to thrust deep, giving you no mercy as he tugged at your nipple, biting at your calf as he fucked into you. You felt so full, your body so exhausted already as stretched you further, your entrance burning against the sting of this new girth. You squeezed him so tight, cock forcing itself deeper with every tug of his hips as you began to cry, tears staining your pillowcase.

“Fuckin’ tal- alk to me, baby. Gunna mak- make me cum al- already.” He sighed, teeth chewing against the meat of your calf as he pressed your cunt wider, sweat dripping from his nose as his curls clung to his forehead. He let off your tit, left hand slinking up to grip your jaw and turn your face back to look at him, your eyes heavy as they blurred with tears. Toby looked so good right now, cheeks dark against his freckles as he towered above you, cock pushing against your gummy walls and making your mouth hang. “So pretty…” He smiled, slinking his hand down to your throat and squeezing, cock pulsing as your face tightened, mouth gasping out as he clamped tighter, refusing you air. There was something so orgasmic about cutting your airway, watching your body react as he fucked your virgin cunt, holding your life in his hands. He had to breathe deep to stop himself from cumming, his violent brain spasming out. 

He pushed your ankle over his head, pulling out roughly as he rolled you onto your stomach, you gasping from the wave of air hitting your lungs. Pushing himself against your ass, Toby swore, pushing his cock back into your cunt as he pushed your back down, making you arch against him. “Just a l- little more, m’kay?” He growled, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and squeezing hard, pressing your face down into the pillow. With a new pace, he fucked down into you wildly, hand kneading your ass hard as digging his nails into your skin, little welts forming across the soft flesh. Your muffled cries sounded against the pillow, head light and static filled as you gasped for air, Toby’s cock ramming down against your g-spot. “Never s- seen a bitch so willing, so des- desperate for my dick you’d gi- give it up so easily.” He teased, growling as he let off your neck, neck sore as he leaned down, pushing your hair off your neck. Toby hadn’t felt like this before, wanting to mark you, fucking you so desperately he wanted to carve his shape deep inside. He couldn’t let you go without knowing exactly who you craved, corrupting you, ruining you, molding you to fit only him. 

He licked against your shoulder, sucking onto the skin before he pressed his teeth, digging both hands into your hips as he sunk them in, groaning at the pop as your blood soaked his teeth. You were crying, screaming into the pillow as your entire body begged for him, craving him, mind going blank as your blood dripped from his chin as he licked at the wound. He pressed on, nibbling into the crook of your neck and sucking revolting hickies into your skin, marking you like an animal. “Wan- Want you to come on m- my cock, baby. I got- gotta fill you full, want y- you ruined for everyone b- but me.” He mumbled quickly, cock begging to spill inside of your warm cunt as you reached around, gripping his hair as he sunk his teeth in again, walls fluttering around him. You pulled his hair, dragging his mouth off of your neck and to your lips, smashing your swollen, tear-stained lips against his as he groaned, kissing you roughly. 

You were cumming again, back arching onto Toby’s cock as you moaned into his mouth, walls holding him tight inside. He tried to move, to continue thrusting, but you were so tight all he could do was rutt his hips, begging for friction as his own seed spilt, his brows screwing tight as he came deep inside of you, warm cum seeping deep into your cunt. Your mind was blank, eyes rolled as you cried into his grasp, his nails digging into your hips until you were nearly bleeding. Your cunt squelched, milking his cock as he finally pulled from your lips, letting the last of your orgasms fizzle out before he pushed off of you, slowly tugging himself out as you whined. Looking back, his cock was soaked, glistening with your arousal and streaks of blood, Toby’s eyes wide. “Ah… Yo- You tore…” He hissed, wiping his soft cock with his shirt before pulling his boxers on, quickly trotting out of your room. You dropped your head back onto the pillow, cunt aching and body ruined as you sat in your sweat and each other’s cum, mind tired as you slowly blinked. 

Toby was back in seconds, a water bottle, a wet rag, and a small bag all in tow as he climbed back onto the bed, flipping your lazy body onto your back. You smiled, sipping the water bottle slowly as he began to clean you up, gently running the warm rag between your folds and against your thighs until he was satisfied, gently rubbing your skin. Finally, he grabbed the bag, your confusion evident as he tugged out the prescription bag, rummaging for the plan b he made you buy and popping one of the pills out, handing it to you as he smiled. Your chest welled, previous anxiety dissipating until you began to tear up, taking the small pill before reaching to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down next to you. Toby went easily, body cradling against yours as he kissed against the bruised spots on your neck, rubbing your bite mark gently.

As you began to doze, Toby mumbled something about your note, your mind too dizzy to hear the rest. The last thing you saw was a subtle flash behind your eyelids, sleep overtaking you as Toby held you close.

-

Morning came quickly, your body stirring, reaching for Toby but finding the bed empty. Confused, you sat up, eyes heavy and head still pounding but you pressed off the bed anyway, searching for the boy. Downstairs, on the countertop, laid his hoodie neatly folded, with a small piece of paper resting on top. Sauntering over, you reached for the top, sliding it over your head, it falling before your hips as you gripped the paper, reading its contents.

On a mission. Be back later tonight. Meanwhile, enjoy ;)

Flipping the paper over, you gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth. A small picture was taped to the back, a polaroid-type photo of the two of you cradled together, your bare body pressed against his, bruises and sweat on full display. Smiling, you tucked it into his pocket, breathing the scent of his hoodie deep as Addy circled your ankles, begging for breakfast. 

Staring out your back porch door, you made sure it was unlocked, always open for him. Killer or not, that boy was yours now, accepting his every mishap the same way he did yours. For the first time in a long time, you felt wanted. 

Rest in Hell, Mr. Higgs.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[wickedhawtwexler]

society if we went back to having amphetamines available over the counter

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ the "dying" wolverine ]❜

ft. logan howlett x gn! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ taking care of logan when he’s sick┊0.8k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, established relationship

➤ author's note: i’m feeling like shit so i’m making him suffer with me

what part of regenerative healing don’t you understand? it’s impossible for him to get sick in any capacity as his immune system is stronger than the adamantium in his body, so feel free to read any of the other logan fics written by all the amazing writers on this platform!!

but let’s say that he somehow contracted a special bug that managed to get past all that and managed to make him fall ill, requiring you to take care of him while wade goes on a mission to figure out what’s wrong with him…

this headstrong two-hundred-year mutant who can take stab wounds without flinching and is an invincible tank in battles will be the whinest son of the bitch. he always lets his guard down around you, but he’s the most vulnerable and immature that he’ll ever allow himself to be around anyone since he can’t remember the last time (or if he has ever in his life) felt so shitty. shivering despite being feverish and covered up in blankets which just made him sweaty and uncomfortable, an itchy nose that wouldn’t sneeze when he needed it to, coughing his lungs out every two minutes— it’s so alien to him.

when you finally show up to look after him, he’ll have uncharacteristically big puppy eyes as you gently place your hand on his forehead to gauge how bad it is. “how are you feeling, lo?”

“i feel like i’m going to fucking die.” there are several discarded tissues and water bottles overfilling the nearby trashcan, but it was clear that he had no idea how he was supposed to make himself feel better and suffering.

“i can tell,” you chuckle at how dramatic he sounds and it makes him frown, but he’s just so thankful that you’re here to take care of him (he doesn’t exactly trust al to do it, that woman is a bit too mysterious and cryptic for him, and the medicine she offered smelled funny even to his dulled senses). “let me go make you some soup.”

he doesn’t want you to leave at first because your cold skin feels so good against him, but he’ll lightly doze off for a bit now that he’s more comfortable and feels safer. don’t expect him to stay asleep for long though, he’ll get up from his little while you’re in the middle of cooking chicken vegetable soup to wrap his arms around you and rest his head on top of yours until you finish.

“why are there barely any vegetables in the fridge? i could only find half a carrot and wilted celery.”

“i don’t think anyone here eats that stuff.”

“logan, you need to eat your greens— all you guys do, how are all three of you in such good shape then?!”

“eh.”

he can’t make anything more complicated than butter noodles, wade sets nearly everything on fire, he feels slightly guilty eating the food made by an elderly blind lady when he’s already freeloading at the moment, and constantly ordering take-out becomes expensive. you’ve given some food in tupperware for him to eat up, but it isn’t quite the same. as if being sick didn’t make him miserable enough, he’s so fucking pissed that he couldn’t properly taste your freshly-cooked food and will make it known.

you scoff that it’s just soup and pour it out in a bowl for him to eat, but you’ll quickly find yourself spoon-feeding him. yes, his hands still work with perfectly fine motor functions. no, you’re not passing up the opportunity to baby him while he rolls his eyes (he’ll grunt at most and doesn’t say a word of protest, claiming that he’s merely allowing it since he’s too tired to fight with you over it and very glad no one could see it happening).

“here comes the airplane~”

“i’m a grown-ass man, don’t be ridiculous.”

“a grown-ass man without an ounce of whimsy in his life, open your fucking mouth and eat.”

this is one of the lower points in his life where he doesn’t quite understand why this is happening to him yet, so you obviously have give him as much affection as possible! keeping a cold glass of water nearby and a wet rag to dab on his face, he rests his head upon your thighs and you swear that you can hear him purring like a kitten. there’s not better pillow than his lover, soft, warm, and full of love as you hum a song to lull him to sleep.

“let’s get married one day…” he not sure how that slipped past his lips, it might be the fever talking for him, or the fact that he’s completely relaxed without any tension in his muscles and feeling himself falling in love all over again when you smile so sweetly at him

“okay, but you need to sleep and get better first.” you place a gentle kiss on his forehead until his eyes slowly drift shut, “i love you, logan.”

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your roommate, toji, can’t pay rent - again. he promises to pay you back soon, but you’re tired of his behaviour.

tags. (perv) roommate!toji fushiguro x female reader. smut, pōrn with plot kinda. dirty talk. rough. p in v -> unprotected. crēampie. fīngering. praise. reader gets called ‘princess, girl’. degrādation. toji’s a womaniser and asshole, like i’m talking dusty, manipulative asshole. unestablished relationship.

“that shit again?” toji rolls his eyes as he lazily switches between the channels on the television. he knows exactly what you’re going to say next. your complaining has a certain pattern that he’s picked up on.

he smacks his lips after being done with his snack. your snack - the one you put your name on before putting in the fridge. the dark-haired man shrugs, “i told ya, girl. i ain’t got the money this month.”

your head feels like it’s going to explode with anger. you know toji has the money. you saw him count the bills on his bed just yesterday, when you passed by his room to go to yours. “yeaaaah - gambled it all away, right?”

the usual excuse he uses. you’re sick and tired of hearing that for the nth time. it’s the same story every month. toji’s a lazy bastard. he’s living off your salary at this point. unapologetically.

“yep,” toji yawns, not even attempting to sound convincing, “got that right.” he knows you’re not going to do anything about it, so he takes advantage of that fact. you’re all bark, no bite.

you always tell him that you’re going to kick him out if he doesn’t pay, though you never take the action you swear on doing. toji has you wrapped around his finger and he knows.

even now, he notices the way you try not to look down at his body. his black shirt is slightly lifted, showing his happy trail that stops at the waistband of his boxers. the fact that he’s sitting on the couch with his legs spread only makes the sight more appealing.

“well, pack your bags then,” you cross your arms after succeeding into averting your attention to the problem at hand. you point at the door with a nod of your head, “i want you to leave by tonight.”

toji struggles to hold back a chuckle. he’ll play along for your sake and act upset by the situation. the tall man sighs and throws his hands up in defeat, trying to gain some pity, “aw, c’mon. have some mercy on me, yeah?”

you’re the one rolling your eyes this time. you’re not going to be naive about this anymore. you’re not going to fall into his trap. you stomp your way over to his room and grab the bag he uses for the gym, aggressively filling it with a bunch of his clothes.

“you’re going out,” you hiss as you walk back to your living room. you throw the filled bag at toji’s chest without hesitation. you know that you’re no match to a grown man, but you’re too fired up to care, “out. i don’t need some useless bum like you in my house.”

toji’s grin drops. his jaw clenches as he gets his bag thrown at him. you seem more serious about this. normally, you’d just cuss him out and lock yourself up in your room. you’re slowly breaking out of the helpless cycle you were in.

“move it,” you huff. your patience is wearing thin. you stand close to toji, your legs nearly touching. you’re towering over him as he sits on the couch, which gives you all the needed confidence. though if he were to stand up it’d be the exact opposite.

toji frowns and starts to realise that his usual manipulation tactics won’t work. he’s trying to think of other ways to distract you of your current dissatisfaction. some more… direct ways.

“you don’t mean that,” his voice turns husky. a real deep tone he only uses when he needs something out of a woman. toji’s veiny hand moves to the side of your thigh, slowly crawling up your skin while he gauges your reaction.

he’s never attempted distracting you in a sexual manner. perhaps now is the perfect moment to try out if it works.

your breath hitches as you feel his touch on your bare thigh. such a warm touch. you’re not going to act like toji hasn’t been attractive to you all this time. his cocky attitude is annoying, yes, but the nonchalance is also a huge turn on.

you’re in a daze. your rational mind is screaming at you to kick that man to the curb—to let him suffer the consequences of his actions—but you’re weak. you’ve sworn never to get involved with him intimately. you wouldn’t want to sleep with an asshole like him.

“do not,” your voice is shaky, revealing the truth behind your contradicting words. you can’t resist him and you’re slowly realising it. you don’t want to end up as all the other women toji’s charmed with his words and actions. you promised yourself that you wouldn’t fall for him.

and yet here you are.

“i can repay you in a different way, y’know?” toji hums, his other hand landing on your left thigh. he rubs your plush flesh up and down in a slow manner. his eyes watch yours intently. you’re nervous and it’s painfully obvious to him. he suppresses a victorious grin, “y’ sure you don’t wanna, princess?”

you’re as weak as they come. toji’s toying with you and you’re allowing it. you’re no different than those women he fucks every other day when he needs something from them. be it money or just stress relief.

you tremble as you feel his fingers graze against the insides of your thighs.

“i take the silence as a yes, hm?” toji chuckles haughtily. he cups the back of your thighs, just below your ass, pushing your body closer to his. you’re standing between his legs and his head is close to your chest. he looks up at you, “use y’r words f’me, pretty thing.”

your brain stops working. you’re so easy. all toji has to do is call you by those alluring names and you’re all his. his callused fingers stop at the hem of your shorts. they continue to sensually rub the material, inching closer to your clothed cunt.

“say you want it,” toji whispers, his raspy voice making your knees weak. you want it, but you’re stubborn enough to deny your desires. you’re throbbing, aching and wet for him. your eyes catch a glimpse of the bulge in his grey sweatpants.

“no, i won’t,” you try to keep your dignity, however you’re slowly losing it. it’s inevitable. you’re putty in his hands. you let out a high pitched whine when toji ‘accidentally’ slides his fingertips back and forth over your clothed pussy, “mgh—okay, okay. fuck—i want you. need you.”

you blurt the words out before you can stop them from leaving your mouth. you silently curse at yourself. your bodily desires have fully taken over. you hold onto toji’s broad shoulders, your grip on them so tight that it sends a shiver down his spine.

he knew that you’d give in sooner or later. the dark-haired man watches as you lower your head, placing it in the crook of his neck to hide yourself from him. he coos condescendingly—

“mhm. tha’s more like it,” toji wastes no time to pull your shorts down to your ankles. he licks his lips, breathing heavily against your bare shoulder. he can’t wait to take this further. he groans the moment your wetness makes contact with his hand, “shiiittt, she’s fuckin’ wet. bet you dreamt about this.”

your panties are discarded on the floor not a second later. you whine in embarrassment, though still spread your legs. you feel ashamed because of how quickly you gave in to his charms. you thought you’d be different, but alas.

your roommate is one hell of a womaniser.

“y’ think i don’t see those lewd looks you give me?”toji clicks his tongue. his green irises are shining brightly. he enjoys the feeling of your sloppy cunt against his bare hand. his thick fingers rub between your folds, teasing your entrance, “nasty little girl. got me wanting to fuck you silly every single time.”

the desire has been mutual all this time. you’ve been driving toji crazy since day one. the way you think you’re being subtle when checking him out never fails to make him hard. or when you walk around the apartment in those skimpy clothes—those shorts that define your ass so well.

he’s sure that you are doing it all on purpose. not wearing a bra, staring at him for too long when he comes out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist, sneaking glances at the outline of his fat cock. you’re not as clever as you think you are.

toji finally has you in his grasp and he’s not letting go. he’ll pound you to the mattress, until you’re satisfied and overstimulated.

he’ll get revenge for all those times you’ve (un)intentionally left him hard. all those times you left him sexually frustrated. all those times he had to resort to other things to relieve himself. all those times he had to waste his cum on his hands or on other women.

all those times he couldn’t fuck you—his pretty little roommate.

“you’re a pervert,” you whimper as you feel toji slip two fingers inside you without warning. his eyes nearly roll back from how tight you’re gripping his digits. it’s going to be so worth it once he’s got your pussy wrapped around his cock.

“yeah, but tha’s how you like ‘em,” toji laughs, not taking any offence to the accusation. he is a pervert when it comes to you and you secretly love it. the squelchy sounds echoing through the living space are all the evidence he needs, “no need to deny it. y’r cunt is doing all the talking for ya.”

you weakly punch his chest at his dirty words. he’s riling you up in both the best and worst ways possible. you moan and your hips shake from pleasure, feeling him curl his fingers up inside you. you hiccup and try to silence him, “shut up!”

toji loves seeing you deny your own feelings. it gives him so much power over you. he knows you’ll come back crawling to him when he’s done here.

after all, you’re stuck with him. literally. he’s not leaving this apartment any time soon. not when he’s got a cute roommate like you awaiting him whenever he comes back home.

soon enough, you end up in his bed. it smells like him. you’ve only imagined being in this situation. with him on top of you, between your legs, filling you to the brim with his cock. it’s huge—bigger than you thought it’d be. no wonder those other girls come back for more.

you can’t talk anymore. the only noises leaving your lips are moans—signs of the pleasurable sensations rushing through your body. your vision is blurry and all you can think of is this moment that you’ve waited for. to be dicked down by your roommate.

perhaps you’re the pervert here.

“bratty attitude nowhere to be found, heh,” toji snickers while his hips ram against yours. flop flop flop — it’s embarrassing how much noise your wet cunt is making. you’re dripping on his sheets while he’s splitting you open. he’s doing it so, so well. he grabs both your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head, giving you no chance to touch him.

toji pants as his thrusts increase in speed. he can’t keep his eyes away from you. you’re beautiful underneath him like this, on his bed, your body a piece of art he wishes to admire every single night. he smirks, “all you needed was some dick to shut that mouth of y’rs up, huh?”

you’re humiliated by how cheap you made yourself seem. you don’t respond to the man’s words and just wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in. toji grunts and slaps your thighs with his free hand, surprised by your actions, “fuck—didn’t know my roommate was such a slut in bed.”

your mouth hangs open. you’re sure you’re drooling by now. toji’s voice nearly becomes inaudible with how focused you are on the feeling of his cock. it’s hitting that right spot over and over again, the curve of his pink tip almost kissing your cervix.

“fffnghh, right there!” you moan loudly. you don’t care if the neighbours file noise complaints against you. they should’ve done so before, when toji had other women over. you remember how many times you had to put your earplugs in because your bastard of a roommate couldn’t keep it down.

the same bastard that’s fucking you so good right now. you can’t recall the amount of orgasms you’ve had already. toji didn’t even cum once and that’s only embarrassing you more. your inability to control yourself is pathetic. maybe not to toji though; he enjoys how easily he can make you spasm and squirt underneath him.

“i got’cha,” toji’s voice turns sweet for a split second once he sees how desperate you are for another mind blowing climax. if he knew you’d be this needy for him, he’d have taken you to bed long time ago.

“need you to say smthing f’me, ‘kay?” toji whispers and bites your earlobe, nibbling on it. his husky voice in your ear is like heaven. it makes you want to listen to whatever he has to say. you can hear the smirk in his voice when he increases his pace, “say that i don’t need to pay y’ back no more.”

you nearly choke on your own spit. toji is an asshole—manipulating your moment of weakness and vulnerability for his own benefit—and yet you allow him. you try to fight the urge to give in, but it’s too late.

“y-you don’t have to pay me back anymore,” you repeat with a whine and shake your head. it’s impossible to think rationally when you’ve got a fat dick all the way in your cunt, hitting all the right spots. your eyes roll back as you babble inaudible stuff in between moans, “promise, you don’t have to—mghhh!”

toji hisses at the feeling of you tightening up around him. you’re insatiable, wanting to continue until you’re able to milk every drop of cum out of his heavy balls. he’s never had a girl be so desperate for him. so dumb and easy.

“atta girl,” your roommate hums and moves his hands to lift your thighs. his inhuman pace only seems to increase with the change of positions. toji stares down at you from behind his black bangs, “no more whinin’ about money ‘n stuff, yeah?”

his gaze is a mix of pure lust and intimidation. you nod your head along to all he says, too cockdrunk to resist anything. you’re living the dream and you’re unwilling to ruin it, “y-yes, not gonna do it again.”

toji groans at the sound of your whiny voice. he’s going to make you addicted to him—that’s his ultimate goal. his hips slam against yours repeatedly, a slick trail of your fluids sticking to his pelvis, “shit, pussy’s sucking me in, princess.”

you can’t get enough of him and vice versa. the dark-haired man fails to keep his composure for a second, pushing his body weight on yours, caging you right against the mattress. he can’t stop his cock from throbbing each time it dives into your insides.

“gonna cum real deep in you,” toji grumbles. he’ll give you every drop, all the way into your womb. he’ll make you his woman for tonight and the many nights yet to come. if it’s left up to him, he’ll gladly fuck you like this every day, “be greedy ‘n take it all.”

you gasp and feel toji thrusting harder into your aching cunt. you didn’t think he’d be able to go faster. you mewl and scream about how good he feels, which only feeds toji’s big ego. he grips your thighs tightly, nails digging into the flesh.

“fuck!” white dots appear in your vision as you reach your peak once again. you feel like your heart stops beating for a second. you involuntarily start convulsing, legs shaking and hips bucking up to meet toji’s.

he hisses and closes his eyes, shooting his creamy load all the way inside of you. ropes of warm cum spurt out of his tip, filling your pussy like both of you have always imagined. he sighs and thrusts a couple more times, making sure no drop escapes your messy folds, “mhmmm, there we go, girl.”

you’re still dazed. you’re slack-jawed, your spit dripping down your chin. you’re more sleepy than ever. no one has made you feel this good in a while. toji watches you struggle to stay conscious and huffs proudly.

he rolls off you and lays down on his back, stretching his arms. he yawns—not bothering with aftercare at the moment. he’ll let you cool off first before he gets you a towel to clean up. toji tilts his head to the side and grins, “debt repaid.”

he’s said it so casually. you don’t notice what he’s implying until you’ve calmed down. your rationality comes back to you after a couple seconds, and when it does, your heart sinks to your stomach. your eyes widen as you recall what you’ve basically promised him.

you promised not to ask for the money he owes you ever again. oh, stupid you.

“wait—”

unfortunately for you, toji’s already snoring. his eyes are closed as he lays there like he hasn’t just rearranged your guts and manipulated you to say stuff you can’t take back. you scoff and rub your eyes, kicking your legs in frustration at your own naivety.

what a bastard.

[nadvs]

cam girl (part eleven)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning alcohol use

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe has never had a hangover this bad. The sharp ache hammering against his temples is relentless.

He feels absolutely fucking finished. Last night, he passed out on whoever hosted the party’s floor, so not only is his head a mess, but his back is sore as fuck.

And the black eye doesn’t feel so good, either.

Even after last night’s aggravating argument with you and the embarrassing drunk texts he sent and this residual hangover from hell, when Rafe gets home in the late morning and finds you curled up in his bed, he feels better.

His head always does this when he’s around you. It’s like the whole world is nothing but fucking noise but with you, the loud turns quiet.

He still doesn’t know how you do that.

Rafe peels his clothes off, takes a hot shower, brushes his teeth and puts on new boxers… and he comes back to see you still passed out on his bed.

You must be exhausted. He feels the usual warm and incomprehensible buzz in his chest when he looks at you, even though he’s mad at you.

Rafe settles in his bed half-naked, slow not to wake you.

He’s half-asleep, fighting the ridiculous urge to turn around and hold you, when he feels you finally shift behind him. He turns to look at you and hates how his first thought is that you look pretty. He’s supposed to be pissed off at you.

He has no idea what the fuck happened last night. Why you made him feel like you’re sick of him all of a sudden.

“Crap,” you whisper as you sit up, realizing where you are and dropping eye contact with him immediately.

“Thought you needed a break from me,” Rafe mutters. “Why are you in my bed?”

He didn’t intend for his words to come out so sharp.

“I didn’t… mean to fall asleep.” You don’t even look at him. “You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

You’re about to get out of his bed and Rafe is powerless to his impulses like he always is around you. His hand circles your wrist, pulling you back.

You drop to sit on the edge of the bed and he can tell you’re annoyed by the way you look up at the ceiling and sigh. He remains on his back, the pain radiating through him keeping him from sitting up.

“I have work to do,” you say, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“Did we go too long last night?” Rafe asks, needing to know why you’re so cold, why you’re done with him all of a sudden. “Is that why you’re being like this? That shit was your fucking idea.”

That stupid toy you got was what kept him from cumming for so damn long. He was fucking you for ages. Maybe it was much for you. He can’t think of what else could have compelled you to say you want a break.

“I’m obviously tired, Rafe,” you breathe. “In every possible way. Just let me…”

Your words fade into nothing once you look at him. He sees the same concerned expression you wore when you towelled the raindrops off of his face last night.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice soft.

He knows how rough he looks; he saw himself in the mirror this morning. His right eye is covered with an ugly purple splotch that spreads down to his cheekbone. Evidence of the fight he got into last night. He doesn’t want to think about it.

So, he resorts to what he does best and tries to suffocate the feeling with sex.

“You wanna make me feel better?” he asks suggestively, cocking his head. He hopes he has the effect on you that he usually does.

You’re motionless, your eyes still hard on his face. Okay. Now he’s fucking desperate.

“Please?”

Did he really just say that?

The corner of your lips curl up into a small smile. He’s embarrassed, but thank fuck you don’t look angry anymore.

“Are you… begging me?” you ask. Your voice is back to that playful tone he’s used to.

His hand is still curled around your wrist, tense that you’ll try to leave again.

“Come here,” he says.

“How bad do you want me?” you tease. He loathes when you fuck with him like this. But why does he kind of like it, too?

He only says your name in warning, even though he knows he doesn’t have the power here.

It’s so goddamn frustrating. He’s used to you doing what he wants. But after last night, after you mentioned a break, he realized he needs to feel needed by you. You’re the one actually in control here.

“I’m all you think about, right?” you goad him. “According to your text?”

Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. It’s humiliating how he typed out everything he was feeling last night.

“I was drunk,” he says defensively. Your smile drops and you start to twist your wrist out of his grip. Shit. Wrong thing to say. “But, yeah,” he adds. “You are.”

“You’re only saying that to get laid,” you murmur.

“I’m not,” he admits. He takes a breath. “All I do is… wait until the next time I can see you.”

Rafe’s not looking at you as he stammers his way through his words.

“That’s what you meant last night?” you ask him. He thinks back to the way he had you bent over the table, stupidly saying he’s the one who always has to wait.

He needs to fuck. Now. He can’t take this feelings shit.

Once he finally meets your eyes again, he’s relieved to see that your stare has softened. You turn to move towards him and his muscles immediately lose their tension.

You straddle him and the way your thighs box him in like this feels so fucking good that he forgets he’s hungover.

You start to grind against him and the thrilling promise of satisfaction washes over him, his boxers getting tighter as he gets harder.

“Does this help?” you whisper. He watches you through low lids, his hands on your thighs.

“Yeah, like that,” he groans. “Good girl.”

He slides his hands up to grip your waist and beckons you to lean over so he can kiss you, but you stiffen and reject the advance. Whatever. You must still be kind of pissed off, but he’s not about to stop what’s happening.

You sit up straighter and pull your dress up over your body, tossing it on the floor.

Rafe’s eyes hungrily trail down your body. Every time he sees your body or even just thinks about it, arousal burns through him.

He hates the feeling of you getting off of him, but once he realizes you’re taking off your panties and straddling him to fuck him in reverse cowgirl, his head feels like it’s spinning.

The sight of your bare ass perched on his pelvis is mind-blowing. He feels you pull down his boxers just enough to take his cock out, your hand running up and down his length.

You stroke him to get him fully erect, which barely takes any time. He gets hard for you in seconds.

When you lower onto him, he exhales in pure elation. You’re so wet and tight and soft and the moan you let out when you fill yourself with him is so fucking pretty.

You finally put all your weight on his hips, your hands stabilizing yourself on his knees. It’s heaven the way you squeeze him so damn tight.

You start to rock on him and his eyes drink in the way his cock is burying into you, the way your pussy looks stretched out like this.

Rafe looks over at the mirror mounted on his closet door to watch you arch your back and start to bounce on him. He doesn’t know which vantage point is hotter.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Look how fucking good you look.”

You meet his eyes in the mirror, your lips puckered as you hold back your moans. That look is for him only. He can’t stand the thought of you doing it for another man.

He watches you put your hand on your clit, touching yourself while you ride him. There’s something so fucking hot to him about how you know your body and how you shamelessly chase your own pleasure.

Rafe looks forward again, taking in the way your ass is bouncing on him, the way your back is curved, the way your cunt is clinging to his cock with every recoil.

He feels himself getting to the edge. He shuts his eyes in an attempt to delay it so you’ll get there first. Cumming will remind you of how good this arrangement between you is and you’ll forget this stupid ‘take a break’ idea.

You start to writhe even faster and breathe even quicker. He knows he’ll finish before you at this rate, so he buries his fingertips into your hips and holds you down to stop you from moving anymore.

“Why?” you whine, needy.

“Sit on my face,” he orders.

You lift your hips off of him, his cock popping out of you, glossed with your wetness. You obey and shift back on your knees.

You lower your core onto his mouth. Rafe fucking loves the way you taste. He puts his lips on you, rolling his tongue out over your velvet folds.

When he feels your hot mouth wrap around his cock, he exhales sharply. He sucks and licks you as he revels in the feeling of your tongue flicking up and down his length.

The way you’re pleasing each other at the same time makes his stomach tighten with something he’s still not used to. His body hasn’t ever reacted like this during sex, but it keeps doing this lately with you.

Rafe shoves away the thought.

He hooks his arm around you, dipping two fingers inside and curling them as he eats you out, eager to get you to cum.

Your breath is shaky, your hole tightening around his fingers. The way you looked at him when you told him you needed a break last night flashes through his mind again, pissing him off all over again.

“Nobody else can make you feel like this, hmm?” he mutters, his lips wet from you.

“Rafe…” Your voice is thin.

“Answer me.”

“No,” you tell him.

“And you want a break?” he huffs. “Do I need to fuck some sense into you?”

You’re silent, your mouth sliding up and down his cock, palming him. Frustration rises in him when you don’t answer. He needs the control. He needs to know how badly you want him.

“Do I?” he asks angrily, fingers slipping out of you to slap your ass. Your back arches at the impact, bucking up off of his face. “Do you need to watch me fuck you to get it through your head?”

Rafe pushes through the stiffness of his hangover to press against the backs of your thighs, forcing you to sit up.

“Get on your knees,” he says. “In front of the mirror.”

You groan out of irritation, but you listen to his instructions like the good girl he knows you are.

His eyes remain locked on you as you get up off of him and settle on all fours in front of the mirror on the floor, looking back at him with those beautiful eyes.

Rafe guides himself into you, finding bliss all over again. He lustfully looks at your reflection and sees the necklace he gave you hanging on your neck. It starts to swing as he thrusts into you, a reminder of how you belong to him.

Every plunge into you is fucking perfect. You squeeze his cock so nicely.

When you tighten around him, your breath hitched, he has no chance of stopping himself anymore - he cums at the same time as you, his moan tangling with yours.

Rafe can see stars as you tremble beneath him. He feels you take in everything he has to offer.

“Damn,” he says gruffly. He can’t stop himself from teasing you. “Sleeping and fucking on the clock. You’re looking to get fired.”

You let out a weak laugh and pull away from him. You stand to pick your uniform up off the floor, giving him another view of your hot, quivering body.

“Tell on me, then,” you challenge. You walk to his ensuite, shutting the door behind you. He’s sure that you know he’d never risk letting you get fired and losing this access to you.

Rafe’s heart is racing. How does every time he has sex with you feel better than the last?

He gets back into bed and pulls his cool comforter over his bare body, coming down from the high. He’s needs to figure out why the hell you’re retreating from him. And he’s determined to show you why you shouldn’t.

But with the hangover and lack of rest, Rafe falls asleep before you step back out into his room.

୨ᰔ୧

You couldn’t let Rafe kiss you. You’ll allow that sort of tenderness if, and only if, you’re more than a sex toy to him, and all signs point to that possibility being a big, ugly no.

When you step back into his bedroom to see that he fell asleep, you take a second, just a second, to look at him.

His lips are slightly pursed, his hair a tousled mess. The bruise on his swollen eye looks painful. You wish you knew what happened. You figure you’ll ask him tonight when he inevitably comes over.

As you make your way to the kitchen, the rush from the sex you just had starts to dissipate and you realize you shouldn’t have done it. You have heavy, unavoidable feelings for Rafe. You said you needed a break. Giving into the temptation was stupid.

But the way he was looking at you, holding your wrist… You couldn’t ignore the magnetic pull you seem to have for each other.

The self-destructive hope flares up as you think about what he said today. It rattled you. He thinks about you? He’s always waiting to see you again? It can’t all be sexual, can it?

You’re desperate to know what’s going through his mind.

You begrudgingly accept that because of the time you spent sleeping and having sex with Rafe, you’ll need to stay late to complete all your tasks today.

After finishing up your work in the kitchen an hour later, you head out to the backyard to throw out a few bags.

You give a polite smile to the gardener, who’s standing by the gazebo. Your mind flashes back to what happened when Rafe caught you talking to him.

Rafe’s possessiveness couldn’t possibly be purely sexual. Not after the way he looked at you once you reassured him he was the only man who could touch you.

You drop the bags in the bin and turn to head back inside, but get stopped in your tracks.

“You should be careful.”

You look up to realize the gardener is speaking to you. Your brows furrow in confusion.

“What?” you ask.

“I overheard him talking about you.“

“Sorry?” you repeat.

“The son. I heard him.” Anxiety fills your veins. He wouldn’t know Rafe’s name - he’s just the son of the millionaire you’re all working for.

He heard Rafe say something about you? You decide to play dumb. You have to. You could lose your job.

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

“He was with his friends out on the balcony a few days ago,” he says. “I was working and I heard him say that he’s… uh, nailing a maid.”

The word seems to make him uncomfortable. You’re so used to Rafe’s vulgarity that you forgot some people blush at a crude word.

Honestly, you expected Rafe to brag to his friends about fucking you. But you didn’t expect a coworker to hear.

You remember watching him through the window that day. Sending him that explicit video. Slowly developing feelings for him when you knew you shouldn’t.

“What, and you think it’s me?” you say with a laugh. Maybe there’s a chance you can convince him that Rafe was lying or that the conversation wasn’t about you.

“People have been talking… Apparently you got caught in the laundry room?” he says.

Shit. All that other maid saw was Rafe in the same room as you. That was it. You didn’t expect to make friends at this job, but this is ridiculous. Do they have nothing better to do but gossip?

You’ve been found out.

“Please don’t… say anything,” you finally say quietly. “I can’t lose this job.”

“I won’t. And I’m not judging,” he says, but he definitely is. You can see it in his expression. “Just wanted to tell you that I heard some… bad stuff.”

“What?” You cross your arms, feigning confidence.

“He told his friends that you’ll do anything he wants you to,” he says. “And that you never say no.”

“Okay,” you say. You’re trying to keep your gaze steady. This is humiliating. But it’s all true and not a surprise. You didn’t expect any better from Rafe.

“And one of them said something like… that’s the type of… um…” He looks nervous again.

“Just say it.”

“The type of… slut you run through then drop when she gets boring.”

This is what finally breaks you. You only nod, trying to seem unaffected.

“What did he say to that?” you ask. You hate that you have a little bit of hope that Rafe would defend you, show a shred of respect for you.

“They all just laughed.”

Your heart sinks.

Of course that’s what Rafe thinks of you. Of course to him, you’re just a whore that he’ll get tired of eventually. You shouldn’t have ever given him the power to disappoint you.

For fuck’s sake, you asked him point blank over text last night if all he wants to do is fuck and he replied with a clear YES.

“Okay,” you say, turning away before he can see the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Sorry. Thought you’d want to know,” he says to your back. “These rich guys are all assholes.”

“Yup,” you reply, walking away.

You don’t even give a fuck about your job anymore. It’d be better if you lost it so you don’t have to see Rafe ever again.

This is fucking agony. You feel so dehumanized.

When you make it home that evening, two hours later than usual, you type a text you mentally drafted on your drive home.

You open the conversation with one of your close friends from college and text her: hey, are there any parties tonight?

Getting drunk and partying is not a healthy way to cope, you know that, but you desperately need to get your mind off of things. Thankfully, your friend responds quickly about a party at a frat house on campus.

After you get ready, you take a cab to the address your friend sent you. It doesn’t take you long to find her and start downing shots.

Your phone buzzes, right on cue. It’s 10 pm, after all. He’s waiting for you on that depraved website where it all began. The text is blurry through your tipsy eyes.

Rafe: where are you?

You finally send him the message you’ve been toiling over, anger and disgust and embarrassment and sadness heavy on your chest.

You: i’m done. this is over. i’m not even a fucking person to you am i

{ read part twelve here }

[sufrimientilia]

characters on the run

always so tired. driving for hours and hours in whatever shitty beater they find or steal, downing caffeine and too many five-hour energy shots pickpocketed from some gas station

sleeping cramped up in some bus or train seat, slumped over in a transit terminal, hoodie pulled up tight in the hopes of not being recognized

nodding off but jerking awake every single time, exhausted but hardwired to be paranoid even with caretaker's gentle touch and quiet reassurances trying to get them to rest

so much time spent running or fighting they eventually just crash. stoic characters slumped and snoozing, trying to keep watch and instead getting some much needed rest

lurching awake in a cold sweat, gasping and trembling, bandages wrapped tight up and down their torso

"we're safe here. i promise."

"it's okay-- it was just a dream, i didn't hear anything..."

shot or stabbed while trying to lose a chase. limping through crowds, desperately acting causal, traces of blood left on everything they touch

collapsing and drawing a scene, strangers asking questions and touching all over. having to slip away from concerned bystanders before actual help (or trouble) arrives

washing off in some shitty public bathroom and leaving behind a horror show of bloodied paper towels and smeared fingers all over porcelain, too out of it and in a rush to actually bother cleaning up

character bleeding out and semiconscious and caretaker doesn't know what to do, has nowhere to go. desperately trying to drag them along as the threat gets closer and closer, or hiding and waiting and begging for them to wake up

when it's too dangerous to go to a hospital. makeshift first aid in the back of some car, breaking into a vet clinic after hours, slumped over in a dank alleyway or dirty bathroom. shaking fingers and dim lighting and nowhere comfortable to recover

all of the places to lie low are sketchy as hell. trap houses, back rooms, dive bars, strip clubs, late night joints where passing acquaintances are somehow okay with shady strangers crashing on their couch. always surrounded by a bad crowd and caught up in seedy shit

wearing the same clothes which get increasingly fucked up. fabric lost to makeshift bandages or tourniquets, blood stains and sweat, the same hoodie passed between characters getting worn and sentimental

long sleeves, oversized clothes, shitty makeup, hoods and sunglasses and hats, anything to hide their identity and all of the bruises and cuts

barely any money to their name. having to choose between filling up on gas or eating, counting remnants of change, stealing food or dine and dashing out of necessity. barely scrapping by and working any job on the low, just oh so easy to take advantage of

getting sick, but it's not like they get a break from running. feverishly wandering around, catching concerned looks from strangers, never getting the chance to rest properly so they just get worse and worse

getting so desperate they eventually call for help. trembling and hunched over in a phone booth, nervously knocking on caretaker's door, so rundown and pitiful of course they wouldn't be turned away, where the fuck have they been?

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (18) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request: closed

note: some angst ?? but it's heartwarming... smut ofc because we are so back ! jk and oc finally kiss again (and can't stop) and so he fingers her. they sort of... talk things out??? def on the right path to their happily ever after <3

//

one thing jungkook and zion have in common (aside from being each other's splitting image) is that they’re both grumpy when sick.

last night, when zion slept over at jungkook’s, he was whiny and snappy. he cried a few times, sobbing for you (he's also been going through separation anxiety with you regardless. being sick just makes it feel extra awful). it worried jungkook since whenever zion was sick, you were always around. you were always the one to take care of him, and even if jungkook wanted to help, zion would throw a fit and refuse to let him near.

he can’t blame his son, though.

jungkook is the same.

when he’s sick, he only wants you. only you could nurse the sickness away. only you could make him feel better.

as the sun came up, zion woke up in a tired, slow mood. he wasn’t snappy or grumpy per se, but he was definitely out of it. jungkook checked his temperature (it was normal) and even added oranges to his snack box for the extra vitamin c. it’s a little chilly today; the sky looks like it has plans to cry soon, so he dresses zion in an extra layer. then, he lets you know what’s going on, drops zion off at daycare, and tells zion’s educators that he’s feeling a little under the weather.

jungkook repeats over and over again: "please call me if he’s really not feeling up for it today. he doesn’t have to be sick sick, okay? just call me if he even tells you guys he’s tired. i have a meeting, but i’ll come right when it’s over… that’ll be around 11 a.m."

at 11:28 a.m., zion’s daycare calls jungkook to say that zion spent the entire morning sleeping and then woke up to throw up.

at 11:31 a.m., he texts you.

by 11:45 a.m., he rushes into the daycare, grabbing zion’s backpack and holding him with his other arm.

… and holy shit, is it awful.

zion is kicking and screaming, bawling his eyes out because he doesn’t want jungkook. he’s uncomfortable and running really hot. jungkook is trying to sign zion out as his educators quickly update him on the details of zion’s morning.

jungkook can’t hear a thing.

he just keeps thinking to himself: fuck, i wish ___ were here.

hustling to leave, jungkook’s feet come to a halt at the door.

it’s pouring rain.

he hisses, feeling like he will lose his mind in the next five seconds. everything is so overstimulating and heavy. zion’s sobs grow louder with each passing moment he’s in jungkook’s arms. zion’s backpack isn’t even zipped up properly, so some of his things are falling out—and holy fuck, why is it raining so fucking much?

then, it gets worse.

jungkook’s car is parked four blocks away. he suddenly remembers this as he scans the area and feels even more helpless.

he takes a deep breath and accepts his fate. he accepts that zion will be crying in the car the whole ride long. he accepts that the backpack he’s carrying will be empty by the second block. he accepts that he and zion will be drenched in rain and probably get sick soon, too.

he accepts his fate.

“zion, daddy parked the car far away. i’m really sorry, buddy. can you take some deep breaths for me before we go? we’re going to get wet, and it’s hard for daddy to focus if you’re crying like this—”

zion hits jungkook’s shoulders and sobs even harder. “no! i don’t want to get wet! i don’t want you! i only want mommy—”

“she’s coming, zion. mommy will be at the house—”

“no!” zion cries, shaking his head profusely. “i want mommy now!”

jungkook can’t help but tear up. zion is burning up. his small hands clutch onto jungkook’s shirt, and his face is flushed with fever. he shifts slightly in jungkook’s arms, letting out a tired whimper. jungkook’s heart twists.

he stares at the rain pouring down, watching it hit the pavement in heavy sheets.

just 4 blocks.

he’d done it a hundred times before—walked this exact route, held zion in his arms when things got tough. but for the first time in his whole fatherhood, he doesn’t know how to be one. not that he’s a pro and has known what to do for the past three years—but he was usually better than this. he knows how to calm zion down. he knows how to hold his son and walk four blocks. he knows tough days… but for some reason, right now feels impossible.

it feels like he’s stuck.

it feels like shit.

he takes a deep breath, his mind racing as he prepares to step into the rain.

“we’ll be okay,” he murmurs, more to himself than to zion, who is now resting his head on jungkook’s shoulder. every muscle in jungkook’s body is tense, ready to sprint through the storm if that’s what it takes. “daddy’s fast. okay, zi? but i’m going to need your help for extra speed. can you take a deep breath and count with me? let’s go in three, two, one—”

just as jungkook is about to step into the rain, there you are.

“zion!” your voice calls out.

you appear out of nowhere, stepping into view with an umbrella in hand. your eyes lock with jungkook’s; they’re filled with concern but somehow steady, reassuring. it’s like you know exactly when to show up, like you always do.

no call, no texts—just… there.

thank god.

jungkook exhales, feeling the weight of everything lift just a little. maybe timing isn’t something you can plan or force, but somehow, it always feels right when it comes to you. truth be told, you have this way of arriving just when everything feels like it’s slipping out of control—like the universe is telling jungkook he’s destined to wait for you.

to live life with you.

to be with you.

to love you.

zion gasps, quickly wiping his own tears.

“mommy!” he exclaims, his voice thin but full of excitement. “mommy! come here, please! i want you! okay? daddy—it’s mommy! see? over there? yellow umbrella…”

jungkook follows zion’s gaze and watches as you cross the street.

“yeah,” jungkook sighs softly, brushing a hand through zion’s damp hair. “look at that… mommy came for you, zi.”

zion smiles tiredly, his face softening despite the fever’s flush. “cos she loves me.”

“she does,” jungkook chuckles, pressing a light kiss to zion’s forehead. “i love zion too.”

zion huffs, crossing his arms weakly before whining in that small way only toddlers could. “no. i only want mommy’s love—oh, oh, oh! my mommy—” he wriggles in jungkook’s arms, reaching out towards you.

jungkook feels the shift in zion’s body, the way his little arms reach out desperately for you. it’s as if you are the only thing that could make the world feel right again.

finally, beside them, you step forward, and jungkook loosens his hold. gently, he transfers zion into your waiting arms. zion nestles against you instantly, his tired body finding comfort in the way you hold him—the way only you could.

jungkook stands there for a moment, watching you two. a small pang of something—loss, maybe—passes through him. but it isn’t about that. it isn’t about pride or who could soothe zion better.

it’s about the way zion relaxes, finally at peace in your arms, and how the pouring rain is nothing compared to the sunshine you radiate.

then, jungkook sighs. his heart is heavy and warm at the same time. with his parents taking zion over the weekend, jungkook only really had him for one cranky night and this hectic morning.

now, it’s noon, and it’s crystal clear that he isn’t enough for zion.

today, he failed.

… and that’s okay.

as much as parenting is about getting things right, it’s also about getting things wrong. this? this is what parenting is too—knowing when to step back, to let someone else be the safe place. as much as it stings, it is also filled with relief.

zion is safe.

zion is loved.

… and in the end, that’s all that matters.

as zion settles into your arms, jungkook takes the umbrella from you. he steps into the rain, holding the umbrella for you two. patting zion’s back, you whisper reassuring things into his ears. he giggles and begins to babble about how much he missed you. he requests noodles and to sleep on the couch tonight. you tell him no, that his bed is better. he doesn’t fight you. instead, he asks if he can get a lollipop for his sore throat. you grant that request.

“nam joon just sent me here by uber… but i think it left already. where’s your car?” you ask jungkook.

“it’s 4 blocks away. should I go get it—”

“it’s fine,” you decide. “let’s walk there together. are you okay? you look kind of—”

“mr. and mrs. jeon?”

you both turn your heads to see zion’s teacher come out. she has two small containers in her hand and zion’s water bottle. she jogs over despite the rain.

“oh! thank goodness i caught you two. these are zion’s—” she hands the items to jungkook. he opens zion’s bag and puts the things inside. “... and i just wanted to remind you we have show and tell next week. i meant to mention it earlier when mr. jeon was signing zion out but forgot. anyways, get home safe and get well soon, zion!”

“thank you,” jungkook nods. “thanks for calling too.”

zion’s teacher smiles warmly. “no worries! zion is so precious to us. even when he has his days… i don’t think i’m supposed to say this, but—he’s our favorite. he’s always curious and funny. he’s kind and organized for a 3-year-old… probably gets that from you two, huh? he always talks about you two. he loves you guys so much and always draws family pictures of you at home.”

your heart melts.

“... and honestly? i’ve never seen you two pick zion up together, and my colleagues and i all talk about how much you two suit each other… seeing it in person—together? wow. you look like you were destined to be a family.”

jungkook’s heart melts.

you two laugh and thank her for her kind words. they don’t make you feel awkward… if anything, they make you smile. to be known and loved—to have people believe in you two… it’s different. it’s something else.

it’s something real.

as zion’s teacher bids her goodbye, you and jungkook share a look.

“let’s go?”

jungkook nods, follows your lead, and trails a few steps behind you.

he holds the umbrella high above you and zion, making sure the rain doesn’t touch either of you. you glance back, catching a glimpse of his shoulders already soaked after just a few steps in, his hair dripping with rain while yours and zion’s remain dry.

suddenly, you feel a rush of warmth and frustration all at once.

he does this every time—always putting himself last, always making sure you and zion are okay first. it’s one of the ways he loves; you know that. quietly, without asking for anything in return. but right now, as you feel the warmth of zion’s little body against yours, dry and protected under the umbrella, something twists inside you.

fuck.

you hate it so much.

“jungkook…” you start, your voice soft, but he shakes his head before you can say more, a small smile playing on his lips.

“i’m fine,” he says, like he always does, eyes darting briefly to zion nestled in your arms, then back to you. there’s something so gentle in that look, and it’s enough to silence you. because you know—he’s doing this because he wants to, because this is how he loves. he won’t let you carry the weight alone, not even for a second.

still, it frustrates you.

watching him like this, so selfless and soaked, makes you want to pull him under the umbrella, to wrap him up and shield him the way he does for you. but you know he wouldn’t let you. you sigh, biting back the urge to protest. instead, you adjust zion in your arms and glance back at him, hoping he knows.

and he does.

because when your eyes meet his, there’s a moment—unspoken, quiet—where you don’t have to say a word. in the way you look at him. he can feel it: the gratitude, the love, the quiet ache of wanting him to take care of himself, too... and maybe he feels it too because the smile he gives you is softer this time. a little more knowing.

you wish you could pull him closer, but in your own way, you love him back. you hold zion a little tighter, taking care of what he holds dear to his heart, just as he takes care of both of you.

as the rain pours harder, he stays a step behind, soaked but steady, and you walk together in the silence, knowing without words that love isn’t always about who gets wet and who stays dry.

sometimes, it’s about who’s willing to stand in the rain for you.

the car ride was quiet. 

you sat in the back, holding zion’s hand the entire time. zion fell asleep but would shift and murmur, “mommy, mommy…” 

jungkook drove carefully and often glanced back at you two. he isn’t sure why, but he kind of really loves this moment. it reminds him of the day you two were bringing zion home from the hospital. 

he loves the way you are with his son. 

he loves you so much. 

when you get home, zion is attached to you by the hip. he throws a tantrum when jungkook pulls him away from you so he and zion could go take a bath together while you get started on chicken noodle soup for lunch. jungkook struggles and feels bad for ripping zion away from you, but doesn’t take it to heart. 

zion is just like this when he’s sick. 

once their bath is finished, zion comes running to you from the washroom. jungkook follows along, drying his hair with a towel. you pick up zion and set him on his chair, prepared to feed him. 

from the corner of your eye, you see jungkook put his jacket on and search his pockets for his keys. 

“are you leaving?” you ask, feeding zion a spoonful. “i made you lunch too. please stay—”

“i’m gonna go buy some medicine for him,” jungkook says. “and those lollipops for sore throat? does he even have a sore throat?”

you laugh. “don’t think so. we got into a bad habit of giving him them every time he’s sick though… might as well go along with it. at least they make him feel better.”

jungkook chuckles, “whatever you want, honey—”

he clears his throat. 

“sorry.”

you shrug. “don’t be.”

he offers you half a smile and ruffles zion’s hair before heading to the door. as he puts on his shoes and opens the door, you call for him once more. 

“drive safe, okay?” 

“i will.”

“go to the pharmacy on 11th. it’s the closest and they sell the apple flavour cough syrup he likes.”

“i will.”

“the lollipops are usually hidden behind their stash of kids tylenol. so look behind the tylenol.”

“i will.”

“honey?”

“mhmm?”

“go and come back quickly.”

jungkook doesn’t turn back. instead, he smiles to himself and lets his heart flutter. biting his inner cheek, he attempts to act cool. 

“i will.”

the day goes by fast. 

jungkook came back with everything zion could possibly need. after giving zion his medicine, jungkook scrafed down the lunch you made him. it didn’t take long for zion to fall asleep. in fact, he fell asleep right away. 

as you place zion on his bed, you kiss his forehead and take his temperature again. his fever is still high but it should get better in a few hours. you’ll check on him again in a bit. shutting the door to his door, you take a deep breath and head to the living room where jungkook is on his laptop, finishing up a few things for work. 

“how’s his fever?” jungkook asks. 

“still high,” you reply, taking a seat next to him on the couch. peaking over, you notice the pharmacy bag jungkook left on the coffee table. you lean forward and take it. bringing it to the kitchen with intentions to throw it away, you notice another box left inside.

reaching your hand in, you take it out thinking it’s just another type of medicine jungkook got for zion. to your surprise, it’s a box of condoms. 

condoms. 

you and jungkook don’t fuck with condoms. 

quickly, the feeling of betrayal kicks in. how could he do this? what does this even mean? was he sleeping with someone else? or worse… does he not want more babies with you? that’s fucked up. it’s so fucking fucked up. seriously, what the actul fuck—

“sorry, i was submitting something. what did you say?” jungkook calls out. 

you snap out of your thoughts and put the box back inside the plastic bag. you set it on the kitchen island and go back to join him on the couch. sitting yourself down, you inch closer to him. 

“his fever is still high… but i’ll check again after an hour or two. the medicine probably just needs to settle in… i hate sick season. not only is everyone around us sick, but zion can be—”

“mean?”

“i was gonna say needy…”

jungkook laughs sarcastically and shuts his laptop. placing it to the side, he sighs. 

“he hated me today.”

“that can’t be true—”

“oh,” jungkook snickers. “he hated me. he only wanted you. i felt so helpless when i went to pick him up. i’m glad you came… i’m guessing they contacted you too?”

you nod. “yeah. i was about to start this new case when i got the call. told nam joon i had to leave and have someone else take my client—”

wide-eyed, jungkook shifts. “you lost a client today because i—”

“no,” you say sternly. “that’s not what i meant.”

jungkook pauses. 

then, it hits him. 

it’s been like this for a while, hasn’t it? constantly miscommunicating and assuming things between you two rather than spending the time and effort to figure things out. 

“... is it okay if i stay the night? i know we’re broken up or whatever but i’d really like to stay and help out as much as i can. i know he doesn’t want me around and you probably have this shit handled—”

“stay,” you tell him, reaching for his hand. you hold it tight and run your thumb across his knuckles. you press on the little letter ‘z’ on his hand. “... and i hate this. i need you to know that i hate this.”

“what do you—”

you don’t know what comes over you, but something does. it just does and you can’t help it. maybe it’s the box of condoms. maybe it’s the fact that this is the first time you’re alone with him in 2 weeks…

maybe it’s just time. 

“i don’t want to be broken up,” you confess, eyes glossy. “i fucked up. you fucked up. this? this is so fucking fucked up… i miss you, jungkook. i know i’m confusing and i’m a pile of broken parts—but all i know is that even though we’re not together; i don’t want to be broken up. i can’t—i don’t want it. i can’t live without you, jungkook. this is so hard. i don’t want it to be this fucking hard—”

“okay, okay—”

“and i hate that you walk in the rain for us,” you choke on your own words. “next time i’m not bringing an umbrella. we’re a family, honey. either we all walk under the umbrella or we walk in the rain together.”

“okay—”

“and why do you have a box of condoms?” you blurt out. “do you not want to have babies with me anymore? or are you sleeping with—”

“don’t even fucking finish that sentence.”

jungkook glares at you, eyes piercing and heart racing. 

you gulp.

“why do you have a box of condoms?” 

he shrugs. “yoongi called and asked me to pick him up a box. he’s going through his slut era.” 

your shoulders slump.

“i’m sorry i—i shouldn’t have looked and i shouldn’t have assumed—”

jungkook shakes his head. “no, no… it’s okay. this is good. i want you to talk about stuff like this with me. to say anything to me, really. i wait for your texts and calls all day… you have no idea how much i cried after we took zion to the kids cafe. how—for a moment—it felt like we were us again. god, ___… i want us again—mmhpfftt—”

on your bed, you and jungkook make out. 

he’s on top (sort of. you two are laying together) and he uses one hand to cup your jaw. his lips feel soft and slippery as you reach and deepen the kiss. 

jungkook slips his tongue in every now and then, exploring your mouth as if it’s his first time kissing you… and by how he does this; it truly does feel like that. he kisses you so good, it’s hard to pull away. you don’t need air. you need him and his fucking kisses. 

“missed you,” he murmurs against your lips. 

you smile and pucker up. 

he kisses you again. 

“love you.”

you giggle as he digs himself into the crook fo your neck. 

“yah, i’m gonna be bad if you don’t say you love me back.”

“bad?”

“bad.”

you laugh and shift.

he pops his head back out and gives you a playful glare. staying silent, he takes that as a sign. before you know it, you feel him tugging your pajama shorts and underwear down. you gasp as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucks on them, and then slips them between your fold without uttering a warning. 

“w-wait—”

jungkook crashes his lips onto yours. he kisses you tender and soft, distracting you from the fact that he just shoved a finger inside you. 

you moan as you feel him curl inside. he pumps his fingers in and out, then uses his thumb to circle your clit. you pull away from him, and he smirks as he watches your facial expressions change. 

your eyebrows furrow, then they don’t. 

your mouth parts and tiny moans escape your puffy lips. 

the corner of your lips twitches every time jungkook hits the right spot. 

it’s all just so beautiful. he loves seeing how pretty you are when you take him. he can’t help but lean in and kiss you every so often. 

jungkook continues to finger you. your pussy is so wet, it’s a breeze finger fucking it. jungkook also can’t fucking look away. god, he loves watching you. he loves how you shut your eyes and murmur his name. he loves that you pout every time you want him to kiss you… which he does. he gives it to you. all the kisses in the world—he gives you his. 

 “what’s the matter?” jungkook teases you. “why you making that face?”

you gasp as jungkook fastens his speed. he rubs you like there’s no tomorrow. 

“h-holy sh-shit!” you cry, reaching to hold onto his wrist. "uh, uh, mhmm! f-fuck..."

he lets you. 

jungkook cups your jaw with his other hand and looks into your pretty eyes. your eyes sparkle with desperation—a plead if you will. 

make me cum. 

“cute,” jungkook hisses. “so fucking cute.” 

you mimic his hiss as he continues to finger you. your stomach twitches and your hips jolt. he lets out a light laugh when your body reacts like this. 

“d-don’t laugh. takes y-you like 5 seconds t-to cum when i suck your d-dick—”

as your lips meet again—this time—time stops. 

the world around you two fades into a soft blur.

the warmth radiating from jungkook ignites something deep within you. it’s a gentle exploration at first, a soft brush of lips that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. You can feel his breath against your skin, warm and inviting, urging you closer.

the kiss deepens, transforming from hesitant sweetness to a fervent dance of longing. he adds another finger, earning a moan from you. he snickers against your lips. regardless, there’s a softness to the way he holds you. there’s a tenderness that belies the heat building between you two. every gentle press of his mouth is like an unspoken promise, a connection that draws you in, making you forget the rest of the world.

making you forget about time. 

you responds eagerly, leaning into him, feeling the pulse of their shared rhythm. his lips are a perfect fit against yours. it’s intoxicating. the way he kisses you is a mix of passion and reverence, as if every moment spent in this embrace is sacred. 

the taste of him lingers—sweet and a little bit electric, leaving you craving more.

soon, his hand on your jaw slides down to the hem of your frilly top. you comply to his hints and slide your spaghetti straps off. he then tugs your top down to your stomach, revealing your breasts. eagerly, he brings palms them. then, he brings his hand back to your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss further. you can feel his heartbeat matching yours, a silent conversation between their souls. 

in this moment, there’s no past, no future—only the here and now. 

“f-fuck—” you pull away, feeling the rushing burn and intensity of your climax. "honey—"

“what’s wrong, honey?” jungkook messes with you. “what’s the matter?”

“i’m gonna—nghhh!”

jungkook finishes you off. he fingers you fast and hard. you lose your breath, trying to soak in this orgasm. as you reach your high, you feel it. as much as you want to tell him to slow down and stop; you can’t. you can’t because you know what’s coming—

you squirt. 

“oh my god, oh my god, oh m-my—”

“fuck. yeah? that’s it, mama.” jungkook mumbles, taking his fingers out and gently rubbing in between your folds. your pussy tightens and you honestly see stars all around the room. 

jungkook catches this look and chuckles. he leans in, kissing you once more. you chase after his lips when he pulls away. catching your breath, your foreheads touch. both slightly dazed, you pucker your lips and kiss his cheeks and neck. then, you catch his gaze, a mix of mischief and sincerity in his eyes, and know they’ve crossed a threshold. 

it’s more than just a kiss; it’s a promise of what’s to come, something profound that lingers in the space between them.

“love you.”

“love you too.”

jungkook wakes up as he feels zion climbing into bed with you. sleepily, he places the back of his hand on zion’s forehead, but zion shifts away, groggy and fussy, swatting jungkook’s hand aside before snuggling closer to you.

you shift and reach over to feel zion’s forehead; he lets you.

“still has a fever,” you say, your voice dry and half-asleep. with your eyes still closed, you decide, “no daycare today.”

jungkook hums in agreement, feeling the warmth radiating from his son. he then moves closer to you two, putting his arm around zion. but zion huffs, grumbling in annoyance, and moves jungkook’s arm away, throwing his own over your body instead. you wrap your arms around zion, feeling his small frame relax against you.

jungkook sleepily opens his eyes and can’t help but feel left out.

“i hate you,” he groans, a playful pout forming on his lips. “why does he hate me so much when he’s sick?”

you let out a sleepy laugh, glancing at zion's scowling face. his little brow is furrowed, and he mutters, “daddy, stop. i don’t like you.”

the comment makes you chuckle. you hold zion tighter and kiss his cheeks, but he scrunches his face in irritation, clearly only wanting you to soothe him.

jungkook huffs, sitting up in disbelief. “you know he loves you—”

“i’m making breakfast,” jungkook mumbles, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “want some coffee?”

you hum, your eyes still heavy with sleep. “i’d love some coffee,” you tell him. “... but i don’t have a coffee maker.”

jungkook nods, fully gaining consciousness now. “that’s fine. i’ll go out and buy some. i’ll be back.”

“okay,” you yawn, smiling at him. “sounds good, honey.”

as he gets up, zion whines softly, shifting closer to you, his little body still grumpy and unwilling to be touched by anyone but you. he buries his face in your side, and you can’t help but smile at the way he clings to you, seeking comfort while remaining stubbornly resistant to jungkook’s affection.

by the time you and zion wake up and wash up, jungkook has a whole breakfast spread ready on the kitchen island.

“wow!” you say with excitement. “zi, look! daddy made so much breakfast—”

“no.” zion turns his cheek. "no thank you daddy."

“no? no thank you daddy?” jungkook chimes in, approaching zion. he offers his arms and zion turns his cheek at his own father. 

“no daddy. only mommy.” 

jungkook hisses. “yah, zion… it’s a little much now. i’m beginning to take it personally.” 

you laugh and reach for him. placing your hand on jungkook’s cheek, you run your thumb against his lips. “hi, honey. good morning. thanks for breakfast.”

jungkook smiles and leans over to you, ignoring zion being trapped in the middle. he kisses you softly. 

“good morning, beautiful—”

“no!” zion pushes jungkook’s chest. “stop it. my mommy. no kissing my mommy.”

jungkook rolls his eyes. “zi, do you know you wouldn’t exist right now if i didn’t kiss mommy?”

“honey!”

jungkook laughs and playfully pokes zion. at first, zion doesn’t like it but he breaks character and cracks a smile. soon enough, he begins to laugh and reaches for jungkook. happily, jungkook takes his child and shows him all the food he prepared. 

you watch them and can’t help but just feel… good. relieved and happy. 

it’s been a long time since you felt this way. 

jungkook hands you your coffee. you thank him and sip it. it tastes good. it tastes familiar, it tastes comforting… it tastes like it’s exactly what you need. 

“oh,” jungkook reaches inside his pocket and takes a box out. “this is for you.”

tiffany and co. 

you look at him, eyes wide and throat dry. 

jungkook bounces zion a few times before swinging him around. he then puts him down and points to his toys on the living room floor. zion smiles and runs to his toys. while jungkook is bent down, he changes his position and settles on one knee. 

he looks up at you.

“when i said that your career got in the way of us—that’s not what i meant to say. what i meant to say is that i missed you. back then, it felt like every time you came home; you just came home. you weren’t coming home to me—”

“jungkook, please understand that—”

“no,” he sniffs. “part of me fears that if i understand, i’ll agree with you—that we’ve messed up too much to fix this, that this is where we end. but i refuse to accept that. so, here’s my conclusion: even when i don’t understand you, i’ll love you through it. i will see through it. as crazy as it sounds, i believe in you more than myself. you won’t let me down, okay? i want to understand, even if i keep failing. just let me try—for the rest of my life. i love you, ___. i want to come home. i want to come home to you.”

he then opens the box and reveals the ring. 

it’s beautiful. 

“___, will you marry me?”

yes.

you want to say yes.

instead, you say; “what about new york?”

jungkook swallows.

“the offer is mine for one more week,” he explains. “new york is mine if i want it… but you’re what i want.”

“jungkook…”

“please,” he begs. “i don’t want to choose.”

you take a breath. 

“are you asking—no—telling me to?” you ask, your heart racing.

he doesn’t answer, and silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words. each second feels like a lifetime, the weight of his gaze pulling you in. you can feel your pulse quicken, a mix of excitement and fear swirling inside you.

“is it really one or the other?” you finally ask, breaking the tension.

“i don’t know,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.

what does it mean to choose?

to say yes to one dream over another? the prospect of new york glimmers like a distant star, bright and promising, yet here in this moment, everything else fades. it’s just the two of you, the air is thin (as my waist).

you want to say yes, to embrace all the hurt and finally take it all... but doubts creep in—what if you choose him and he regrets it? what if you both lose everything? the future looms ahead, uncertain and daunting, but there’s also a warmth in your chest, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, love is enough because timing is on your side. that maybe, after all these years falling asleep next to him; you two dream the same dream.

“jungkook,” you finally breathe, feeling the weight of your decision. the world outside blurs as you focus on the man in front of you, the man who has laid his heart bare. can love really be enough to hold you both together?

his eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. in this moment, every hesitation fades. you know that whatever you choose will shape not just your future, but both of yours.

you take a deep breath, the anticipation heavy in the air, and feel the gravity of the moment.

as you look into his eyes, you see a reflection of your own uncertainty mingled with hope. there’s something electric between you, an unspoken understanding that transcends words. the way he holds your gaze makes your heart race, a silent promise hanging in the balance.

time seems to stretch like a taut string, each heartbeat echoing in the silence as you search for answers in each other’s eyes. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment. in this stillness of you and jungkook, you two want the same things;

for time to be on your side.

for love to be enough.

for the choice to be right.

[hadersversion]

yet another drabble about dad!logan because i’m watching the wolverine and love sick over this man!

obviously logan is a girl dad…as we seen many many many times. i can definitely see him wanting a BIG family, once you got him started and he’s seen you pregnant with HIS child? oh, that motherfucker will BECOME a mother fucker. he’s like a rabbit with you, constantly on you.

the one thing i keep picturing is the two of you setting up the nursery together. he obviously did the heavy lifting and painting, which cause a fight between the two of you constantly. “im pregnant, lo. i can do somethings, ya know?” “i know, bub, why don’t ya set up the library while i finish putting the dresser together?” it’s all about compromise…in some way? but the two of you spend hours in there together, trying your hardest not to lose your mind over ikea’s confusing directions and the missing screw that fell somewhere in the room. logan is trying not to lose his cool in front of you, mumbling under his breathe. but you know once you leave the room, he shouts swears and knocks the boxes over. it makes you laugh as you grab waters in the kitchen. but once the nursery is done, you two are so exhausted you fall asleep on the floor using the baby’s new pillows. though it was sort of uncomfortable, you two felt content knowing that the room was done and your baby would be here soon.

but your first kid is a girl, his heart swells when he sees you holding this perfect bundle of joy that’s a perfect combination of the two of you. but you swear a tear leaves his eye when that beautiful baby girl opens her eyes and they look exactly like yours…logan never had a favorite color before until he looked into your eyes. and now he gets to see it even more through your daughter. you knew logan was protective over you, that was a given. especially since you were pregnant but once the second his daughter came into the world, you could’ve swore he took over the role of mama bear. he would hover over ANYONE that touched them, made sure they washed and sanitized their hands multiple times, he would even ask people if they were feeling sick before they even entered the room. you had to convince him people didn’t need to wear a mask and gloves in the hospital room. but once the team met baby wolvie, he felt at ease. a little prideful showing off your guys’ daughter, actually showing off his smile to show just how happy he is.

he’s definitely going 10 mph on the drive home, cursing under his breathe at people beeping and swerving around him, not wanting to yell in front of the baby. “logan, you can speed up a little bit. she’s not going to fly out of her car seat.” “stop being a backseat driver, would ya hun? i got this.” “whatever you say old man.”

the first night was obviously tough with the baby crying and making a fuss over everything. you cried, logan held you, you both were frustrated and upset. it was tough, you knew it wasn’t easy but holy hell this was shit. but you had that support system, the man you loved helping and comforting you. but once that sweet baby girl settled in your arms and finally slept longer for an hour, you both gave each other a tired smile as he kissed your head. “you’re glowing, mama. absolutely gorgeous.” “shut up, i know i look like shit.” “shut the hell up, why would you say that?” “because you look like shit, papa.” you both laugh and pass out on the couch, receiving the best sleep ever in each others arms. until the baby monitor goes off less than two hours later.

🎀🦢💓kaila🎀🦢💓

[peppermintquartz]

Read this first

Read this second

Read this third

---

He doesn't like to lose his temper, but this once he wishes he's well enough to physically throw every last one of his visitors out of his room.

He can't, so he uses his words instead. "Get out."

"Buck," Maddie begins placatingly.

"Out!" Buck hates the way she flinches and the way her eyes shimmer with tears, so he turns away from the sight.

"Buck, we didn't mean to lie to you, you needed to rest-" Chimney puts in, but Buck grabs the bottle of water from his meal tray and hurls it in their direction. Chimney catches it before it hits anyone or anything. "Buck!"

"Out! Get out! Get out get out get out!" Buck shouts with all the strength he can muster, and the commotion must have caught the attention of a passing nurse, who firmly ushers Maddie and Chimney away from the room. once he's left alone, Buck collapses back into the pillows. His bruised side hurts and so does his head. His right ankle is throbbing.

The nurse comes back and sets a new bottle of water next to him. "I'm guessing that was not the most restful of visits, Mr Buckley. Let me check your vitals, hmm?"

"They lied to me," Buck mutters. He shuts his eyes and covers them with his forearm, for good measure, while the nurse takes his blood pressure using the other arm. The edges of the bandage around his skull brush against his arm. "They told me Tommy's alright, that he'd been here. They fucking lied to me."

The nurse hums sympathetically. "Who is this Tommy?"

"Tommy Kinard. He's in the ICU." Buck's lips wobble. "He saved my life and he's in the ICU and I can't go to him. They won't let me."

"You are still recovering yourself, Mr Buckley."

Buck sniffs and smiles weakly, lowering his arm to see who the nurse is. "Nick, hi. Everyone calls me Buck."

"Oh, so you're the miracle," Nick says with a smile. Nick looks to be about Tommy's age, his plump features and confident manner very assuring. "They tell me you and your team are frequent visitors. That's not a good thing, Buck."

"Tommy joked that we should have our own wing." Buck can feel his throat closing with emotion. "We,uh, we seem to have pretty bad luck."

"But they call you the miracle. Said you survived being struck by lightning and your heart stopped for over three minutes."

"Three minutes and seventeen seconds."

"Wow," Nick marvels. "That is a miracle." Then he removes the blood pressure cuff and shines a penlight into each of Buck's eyes. "Well, all seems good. I hope this Tommy guy recovers too, Buck."

Just then, Bobby walks in. "Hi, kid. How are we doing?"

"I wanna see Tommy," Buck says immediately.

Bobby's lips tighten. "Buck, I've been to see him. He's... he's unconscious. I don't know if it's a good idea for you to go up there and see him like that."

Fed up, Buck pushes himself off the bed and tries to stand on his one good leg. "I'm sick and tired of everyone telling me what they think I should or shouldn't do, or lying to me, or stopping me from contacting him," he snarls. "Everyone trying to decide what's good for me. I don't give a shit. I want to see him."

When he wobbles, Bobby catches him and sits him back down. Buck is breathing hard, and he doesn't even bother to try to hide his tears of frustration and worry.

"Pops, please," Buck begs, bringing up the old nickname. "He saved my life from Irene. I need to see him. If the worst happens and I didn't even get a chance to... I can't. I can't, Bobby. The look in his eyes before the semi hit us... I need to see him."

Bobby sighs. "Yeah, okay. Let me get you a wheelchair."

"No, crutches will do." Buck grits his teeth. "I can move. My injuries look a lot worse than they are."

"Kid, you were one massive bruise from shoulder to hip, you had a major concussion and you now have seven stitches in your scalp, and you twisted your ankle."

"Tommy's in the ICU," Buck counters. "I'm fine. Crutches."

---

Bobby fills Buck in on the severity of Tommy's injuries as they navigate their way to the ICU. it helps Buck to mentally prepare himself, but seeing Tommy in the bed, unconscious, looking the worse for wear - it breaks something deep inside Buck.

Once the nurses in charge have their information, Buck hobbles over to the chair the other guy - Sal, he thinks, recalling a photo Tommy showed him before of the old 118 - vacates.

Tommy looks horribly frail, connected to too many tubes and wires, his handsome face hidden by the ventilator. His hand is icy cold when Buck holds it.

"Tommy, please," Buck whispers. "I need to say it back. I need to. you can't- You're not allowed to make a dramatic declaration like that and leave me. Baby, you gotta wake up. I have to say it back to you."

He doesn't even know he's weeping until he realizes that the mask on his face is damp from absorbing his tears. Sal and Bobby have retreated outside the door.

Buck squeezes Tommy's cold, limp fingers and presses the back of the hand to his cheek. The monotonous beeps and steady hisses don't change at all.

"You're not allowed to play the hero and exit my life, you understand? You must wake up and get better. I need to apologize and we need to talk, we have so many memories to make together, you can't just leave me like this." Buck is sobbing now, and he feels a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "I need to say it back. You gotta wake up so I can say it back."

"Tell him anyway," Bobby says quietly. "Maybe he needs to hear it."

Buck looks over his shoulder and meets Bobby's gentle gaze. Behind him, Sal is watching stoically, but his eyes on Tommy are filled with concern.

Wiping away the tears under his eyes - a futile gesture, since his mask is already pretty wet - Buck leans forward to get as close as he could to Tommy's ear.

"Tommy, I love you. I love you so much. Come back to me so I can prove it." He presses the tip of his nose to Tommy's cheek. "I love you. Please, wake up."

[princessbrunette]

john b & jj taking puppy!reader for ice cream for being such a good girl!! pup getting ice cream all over her face while she licks her cone all innocent, looking up at jj while hearts are coming out of his eyes and hes drooling a bit!!

✧˖°. ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ✧˖°.

you felt super loved.

john b was sat one side of you, the brunette himself having just got paid from his surf shop job therefore treating the three of you to icecream. he reclines in the booth slightly, his arm protectively around the back of your seat as he smiles gently, watching you scarf down the treat.

jj sits the other side, yapping away about something as you listen intently, occasionally taking a breath to spoonful a mountain sized dollop of icecream into his mouth. you’d think you’d be sick of icecream, working at an icecream parlour yourself — but there was something about the dessert that you knew you’d never tire of, especially when you’re enjoying it with people you love.

“so anyways, i’m half way down the street — my pants are fallin’ down, my shoe lace is untied and— damn, pooch, it ain’t goin’ anywhere— slow down.” the blonde interrupts his story to put his own pot of icecream down, grabbing a napkin from the centre of the table to wipe you down.

“jayj.” you groan, wriggling in his grasp as he mops you up. the brunette on your other side places a hand on your shoulder, not firm enough to keep you still, moreso a silent and gentle warning to do so on your own accord.

“eat slowly, pup. you remember what happened last time.” you can hear the amused smirk in john b’s voice without even turning to face him. memories of you wolfing down your dessert to quickly wind up sick flashes through your mind and you grimace.

“so many rules, just want my damn icecream.” you moan, but slowly drag your tongue along it, succumbing to the request to slow down.

jj goes to continue the story, his eyes flickering to the way you swirl your tongue in the pink syrup, blinking rapidly like he’s taking mental polaroids.

“so anyway, as i was sayin’… there… uh… so we were… shit.” he watches the way you put on a show without meaning to, making a mess of your icecream on your tongue once more.

john b tilts his head with a grin, squinting a little at the blonde. “you good, jay?”

“yup. so good. just can’t concentrate ‘cus our girl here is makin’ sweet love to her ice cream.”

you giggle, wiping your own mouth with a glint of mischief in your eyes.

“am not.”

“are too, look if you wanna suck it just say so, s’right here.” jj sits back with his legs open, gesturing to his crotch. the amusement leaves your eyes to be replaced with arousal, batting your lashes up at him now as john b rolls his eyes.

“jesus, would you two behave in public?”

suddenly your head is whipping round to look at him, and jj is slowly taking the icecream from your hand so you don’t drop it. “are y’gonna teach me a lesson if i don’t, daddy?” you pout and he sighs, leaning his head back on the booth for a moment as he gathers himself.

“yes.” he emphasises when he opens his eyes once more, reaching down to fix his shorts around his crotch, making jj chuckle. “and shutup. c’mon, we’re done here.”

“aww, but my icecream.” you mewl as the brunette pulls you from the booth to march you back to the twinkie.

“mhm, should’a thought of that pup.” jj gives your ass a subtle little swat as he passes you, leading the way to open the door to exit the parlour.

✧˖°. ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ✧˖°.