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itwasrealtome · 2 days

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THIN ICE

Olivia Benson x fem! reader

⚠️ DO NOT READ IF THIS MIGHT TRIGGER YOU

ANGST | Olivia Benson x fem! detective reader | Masterlist

Summary : Detective Y/N Y/L/N, part of Olivia Benson’s Special Victims Unit, faces a life-threatening situation during a suspect’s arrest, chasing this one into an ultimate falls to his death. Injured but alive, Y/N finds herself in an hospital room, receiving stern words from Olivia about her reckless actions.

A/N : Hello my loves. I'm finally sharing this first Olivia X reader with you. I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think. There are a few people I can't identify in the taglist, I'm sorry.

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•••

This afternoon, the streets seemed even more crowded than usual. The vehicles flooded the roads, coming from every corner and blocking the main way out.

Behind a queue of about ten of them, a police car came to a sudden halt. The alarm was on, and the blue and red flashing lights blinded anyone who looked in that direction.

But no one moved.

Not even the sound of a horn persuaded the citizens of New York to get out of the path.

Amanda’s grip on the wheel only tightened. She had never been able to understand the reason behind people’s insensitivity to this kind of thing. It was such an easy thing to understand. Besides, someone’s life often depended on it. Yet, there she was, turning furiously midway, her partner gasping in surprise, her shirt now stained with hot coffee.

— Dude, can’t you just warn before doing that kind of thing?

The blonde gave a brief glance to her passenger. She expected to find her glued to the door, her fingers clenched around the top handle, but she didn’t.

Y/N was desperately trying to absorb the contents of her cup on her worktop. The wipers provided with her order, finally finding their use.

While most people would have been annoyed about staining a piece of clothing, the young detective was not. She seemed much more upset about losing a few drops of her beverage. The former could still be replaced, but the latter was definitely needed.

— Sorry about your shirt.

— Yeah, well you owe me a coffee.

The driver’s smile only widened when she heard her partner muttering complaints. She knew her well enough to say that it had nothing to do with that slight accident. It was cute. Of course, it was. But Amanda could see through it. She knew it had nothing to do with the coffee. Sure, the days were long and their job involved finding stimulants to stay awake, but Y/N was never acting like that. Something was different. And who better to notice than someone who practically lived with her?

— Sure you’re okay?

— Rollins, it’s just a shirt. I think I can get over it.

Amanda gave her a knowing glance. She expected this kind of answer from the young officer. Everyone knew what kind of person she was.

Committed, she was always the first to arrive at the precinct and the last to leave. She was practically married to the job by now. And though Kat had trouble following orders, Y/N did not. She was the perfect partner. Amanda couldn’t remember a time when Y/N had lost control. But these days, everything seemed to fall apart.

It began with a couple of small comments, here and there, a bit too harsh coming from Y/N’s mouth. Next up, her silence during the team talk was a concerning factor for Amanda. If anyone always had something to add to the investigation, it was her. This ranged from a simple detail no one had noticed, to scientific or sociological facts. It was often complicated to keep the detective quiet, so her lack of involvement was bound to catch the eye. That and the fact the blonde had seen her leave the bunks two mornings in a row at the exact same time.

Sure, it was just the addition of minor details. But the older woman’s gut was not wrong, not about this. Something was wrong with her partner. And it had nothing to do with a simple lack of caffeine.

— Oh, don’t give me that kind of look.

— But you’re not telling me the truth, Y/N/N!

Y/N huffed quietly. At times in her life, she hated being around people whose job was to investigate. She cursed them all equally. She just couldn’t help herself the last few days. Her anger was aimed at a specific and unique person, but that person being in law enforcement themselves, it was almost overwhelming to go to work every day. Time seemed to run too slowly there. The only moments she enjoyed were those outside the building. The cold New York weather allowed her to clear her mind and take a deep breath. And she always had something to do, after all the city never slept.

—Like you don’t keep anything to yourself, huh?

Amanda faintly spluttered. Everyone knew she had had difficult times, but she wasn't the only one. And now that she was honest with herself, she knew she had made mistakes. One thing’s for sure, she did not want her partner to replicate these.

— I made some mistakes, most of them I don’t want you to repeat.

— I seriously doubt you did this one.

That was all she could get out of the young detective. Amanda knew it as she watched her turn toward the window. The mere reflection of her face gave her a glimpse of what she was really feeling inside, a sweet mixture of anger and bitterness. Whatever the problem was, it wasn't something they could fix with a drink. And this worried the blonde even more.

— Just promise me you won't do anything stupid.

These words captured the passenger's interest again. She arched an eyebrow at her partner, a smile forming at the corner of her lips. Knowing their duo’s dynamics, she had dozens of retorts on the tip of her tongue, all of them a little more mischievous than the last. Instead, she just shook her head gently. Amanda didn't have to know how upset she was about the whole thing. She didn’t deserve to worry so much. And Y/N certainly had no right to be such a burden to her partner.

— Like what? Jumping off a building? y/n chuckled at the blonde’s glare. Relax. I won’t do anything of that kind, I promise.

At that very moment, the young detective genuinely meant it. She had not gotten up with such an idea in mind. If jumping off a building was regarded as a very stupid gesture, she considered her routine more so.

It was in the way the precinct’s bunks were beginning to feel like home. And how she spent every second of her days with the badge on her waist. She had no idea when she had last stepped into her apartment for more than a shower. Her desk was overflowing with paperwork and books in which she always found a way to bury herself. It was much more than a way to distract herself. At all costs, she avoided raising her head, out of fear of meeting the gaze that froze her every time. The path she was on was, for that matter, significantly more dangerous than whatever stupid thing Amanda was thinking about.

But she could not say that to her.

To anyone, actually.

— Weren't we just called to make sure that this jerk wasn't prowling around the residence?

In any other context, Y/N would have felt like a fool. Her back nearly arched as she tried to make out what was going on in a street they weren't even close to yet. She may have lacked sleep and insight into her personal life, but her cop intuition never failed her.

— You'd be sure of that if you'd listened to a single word the captain said.

— Something’s wrong.

Amanda brought them to the next intersection before momentarily stopping the car. The sight over her partner’s shoulder sent a chill down her spine. Despite years of experience, she couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline every time. The crowd of cops down the street certainly wasn’t helping. They were everywhere. Mostly hidden behind their vehicles. But their vests did not go unnoticed and neither did their weapons pointed at a specific target.

— Crap, I hate when you’re right about this stuff.

— Hum…what was that you were saying about our captain again? y/n faced her friend with a teasing smile on her face. She couldn’t help herself. Always listen to what sh–

The sudden acceleration of the vehicle silenced Y/N. She felt grateful once again that her belt was keeping her safe. No day went by without her being in some kind of danger, but she never thought she’d have to worry about dying while Amanda was behind the wheel.

— Would you please stop doing that? cried the younger detective, her hands still clutching the top handle. And since when do you drive so badly? Damn it.

— Guess now you’ll stop driving like a maniac if I let you get behind the wheel.

The door swung shut before she could react. She stepped out of the car herself and walked over to Amanda. A vest was tossed in her face before she could even think about opening her mouth. But anyone who thought she would have given up so easily was wrong.

— I do not drive like a maniac.

Her friend gave her a knowing look as she closed the trunk. Now was definitely not the time to have this kind of conversation, but Amanda was glad her partner hadn’t lost everything that made her the person she was.

She was relentless, both in her work and in her personal life. To be defeated by a suspect in an interrogation room was a rare occurrence. Within the profession, many officers wondered about her career choice. They could imagine her leaving the field to terrify judges in a courtroom. Perhaps because they were themselves scared to death to face her. Seeking victory in a debate with a woman like Y/N was a waste of time. She knew when she was wrong, and would always acknowledge it. Nevertheless, she also knew when she was right. And in those moments, Amanda was the first to grab a bag of popcorn.

— That you do.

The detective’s hands found the velcro on the vest from memory as she was too busy glowering at her friend. The protection weighed on her shoulders. It was almost enough to give her a reason to fall apart. That, and the weight of life that was beginning to take its toll on her.

Slightly defeated, she stomped over to Amanda to catch up with her. She knew the other detective was right. Her anger was evident in the way she drove. Since then, she was assigned the role of co-pilot. It was okay. But she loathed being deprived of her usual distraction. It was starting to loop in her mind. She needed a way out.

— Detective Rollins and Y/L/N, Special Victims Unit.

Amanda shoved her badge in the man’s direction, half-expecting him to tell her to piss off. He dominated the scene with his large stature and a rank evident to all. The rookies were following his orders and keeping their mouths shut. Something that obviously wouldn't work with Olivia Benson-trained agents. He didn't seem to mind, guiding the two detectives as close as possible to the scene. But then, the mere idea of having to send men into the building made him raise his chin in an authoritative, disapproving manner.

— Our only witness is trapped in this building, Rollins began the fight, finger pointing accusingly. I don't care how, I want that man in custody.

If one of them had looked up for even half a second, instead of fighting over who had the biggest –which was obviously Y/N in this situation– they might have been able to stop the young detective in her tracks. Amanda had had enough of listening to the man's whining as he waved his rank in her face. And her colleague, the one she was supposed to look after, was tired of simply waiting.

As discreet as a mouse in the middle of the city, Y/N circled the building and quickly found a fire escape. It wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind when the impulse to walk into the building first came to her, but she couldn't really say she'd given it much thought. With a bit of imagination, and a little help from a trash container, she managed to pull herself up to the top. Now, maybe that was the beginning of a crazy idea. She could already imagine her partner and captain scolding her - if, and only if, she managed to get out of there alive and intact.

At the top of the stairs leading to the third floor, the detective stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of their suspect's agitated voice.

Thomas Patterson, 45, suspected of having violently abused his wife before killing her, and of abusing his stepdaughter - Johanne Morales. The man's profile was clear: a respectful-looking husband and father-in-law, loved by all, carefree, but once the door was closed he turned into a control freak with urges he simply couldn't escape. He clearly hadn't planned to kill his wife. The autopsy had revealed signs of haste and mistakes that a man like Patterson would never have made if he had prepared properly. But he had made mistakes. His blows had been too violent, Johanne had interrupted him, and he'd had to finish the job quickly - too quickly, in order to hide his crime.

Y/N had studied his profile carefully. That's what she did best, that and avoiding her captain. She knew he was restless, nervous, ready to do anything to cover up his actions. The final piece of the puzzle was to eliminate the only witness, the one who would go all the way to court to see him take the fall. She had an advantage over him. She was there, so close to the goal, and he was unaware of her presence. At least, that was until Amanda's voice came through the radio.

— Y/L/N, you've got two seconds to get your butt over here.

The young detective could have banged her own head against the wall. Boy, had she been stupid on that one. She clenched her jaw, the urge to bite her fist growing cumbersome as she prayed Thomas hadn't heard. But he definitely did.

A front door opened slowly, the creaking hinges betraying the building’s condition. The man was probably armed, the sound of the guard echoing in the empty corridor. Each of his steps shook the wooden floor and sent a current of adrenalin through Y/N's veins. He was getting closer. She could smell him and his perfume. Him and her fear.

As soon as he was close enough to round the corner of the stairwell, the young detective took this as her cue. She charged at the man, her hands reaching for the 9mm held firmly in his rough, bleeding hands. In a split second, the magazine slid out and collapsed on the floor. She sent it tumbling down a few steps with her boot, before landing a knee into the suspect’s parts. This only confused him for the briefest moment. He was on her again before she could even flinch. Her body hit the wall with a heavy thud, the vest shielding her body from the heavy impact. However, the man’s hands found her neck and tightened their grip, pulling her head violently forward and then pushing it back, slamming it against the concrete wall.

He repeated the motion twice more, the detective’s pleas of pain provoking a feeling he himself could not begin to describe. Y/N wasn’t done with him yet. He clearly wanted to lash out at a woman and had a nasty habit of underestimating them all. Only, today wasn’t his lucky day. He was forced into the apartment where he had deliberately tied up the young Johanne. It was his turn to bang into something. The dresser barely tilted behind him, but the vase crashed hard against the top of his skull. He felt the water run down his face, the smell of freshly bought flowers wafting through the air.

Back in a corner, Johanne tried desperately to struggle out of her bonds, her words puffed out by the duct tape over her mouth. She could only witness the struggle between her back-up and her assailant. Watching as Y/N unloaded all her pent-up anger on the man who had dared to cause so much harm. In one smooth motion, Thomas grabbed the detective’s gun, a triumphant glint in his eyes. Hope was soon lost, his chances of getting out of there alive and free close to zero. His opponent was relentless and had no intention of letting him slip away. His only option, he realized, a flash of light reflecting off the window, was to drag the detective with him in his fall.

Outside, Amanda was still arguing with the man in charge of operations. He hadn’t given up and neither had she. Only when, as the argument continued to escalate, gunshots were heard, followed by the shattering of a window pane, did they come to an agreement. The plan didn’t even have time to take shape before two bodies flew out of the building.

First, the blonde saw the man she recognized as their suspect crash hard to the ground, the collision knocking him down instantly. Then came a tremendous thump and the shrill sound of a car alarm. Straight ahead of her, on one of the patrol cars, had landed Y/N. The height of the fall meant that the roof of the vehicle had been crushed and some of the windows smashed. That wasn't what Amanda was most worried about. Her partner, the one who'd promised her she wouldn't do anything stupid – like jumping off the third floor of a building, was sprawled motionless on the broken glass, blood on the back of her skull.

— Oh my God, Y/N, in one stride, she was as close as she could get to her friend. Call an ambulance. Now!

For once, the man made himself useful, radio in hand, as he asked for help. He now stood with one, maybe two, even three victims to deal with if the detective didn't make it. He could already imagine the damage it would do to his career. Besides, he knew Captain Benson very well and had no desire to mess with her.

Needless was his worry. The more Amanda studied her friend, the more she realized how lucky she’s been. Y/N was simply stunned, staring at the New York sky with an uncharacteristic intensity. She began to laugh, full-throated, heartily. It was probably the adrenaline pumping again. Tears joined the party, leaving funny marks on her bloody cheeks. Suddenly, she remembered.

— Johanne. She's alive. Up there. Y/N looked up at Amanda expectantly. She needs help.

***

Captain Olivia Benson had seen enough in her career not to let anxiety get the better of her. She had been beaten, kidnapped, almost died and dragged through the mud in front of an entire courtroom. She had reached a point where facing certain types of suspects no longer made her lose her footing.

But someone was bound to make her lose it.

Briskly, almost to the point of knocking herself off her feet, she made her way through the corridors of a hospital she knew all too well. The distinctive clatter of her heels against the floor blended perfectly with the incessant beeping and distant hubbub of such a place. She wasn't there to see a victim, as she often was. Her hasty and agitated demeanor only aroused the suspicions of the medical staff who had crossed paths with her so many times. It wasn't just a professional matter.

It hadn't been for a long time.

When Olivia reached room 212, she didn't spare a moment's hesitation. One of her youngest detectives and latest recruit was sitting wisely on the edge of the bed, her legs wriggling in the air like a child's. A nurse was visibly busy behind her, dropping more and more glass flakes into her tray as she went. She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded tightly against her chest, eyes focused on the sight that made her stomach hurt in spite of herself.

She watched as Y/N's chest, covered in dried blood, continued to pulsate with every breath, as hematomas were already starting to spread across her face and torso, and as her plain face twisted in pain as soon as the nurse reached for another piece of glass. Just a few days ago, her first instinct would have been to rush to her protégé’s side and calm the agony she knew to be growing in her heart. But she'd vowed to keep her distance and stay in her current position: Captain Benson, unit chief.

All too quickly for the young detective's liking, the nurse finished her treatment and left the two law enforcement agents behind. Olivia had had the decency to wait until the door was closed before lashing out at her, which didn't stop Y/N from rolling her eyes. She'd already imagined this conversation - or rather, monologue - and knew she wouldn't come out of it unscathed. She'd probably lose her badge. No matter, she'd already lost her heart.

— Have you completely lost your mind? You could’ve been killed.

This was the cue for a lengthy sermon that she couldn't escape. The words left Olivia's mouth at a speed that seemed unbearable. She paced back and forth, her arms stretching out in waves of frustration and indignation, her cheeks rosy with emotion. She'd done some stupid things herself when she was just a rookie, but throwing herself off the third floor of a building had never been on the list.

— Are you done? y/n arched an eyebrow as Olivia finally paused. I saved a life today. While Amanda and that jerk were fighting over who had the biggest, which apparently I did.

— No, you refused to follow orders. Not only did you put yourself in danger, you put everyone's lives in danger. Heaven help us again that you were wearing your vest, otherwise it could have been a lot worse.

— I don't know why you care so much, you're just my boss!

Although these words were intended to hurt Olivia, it was Y/N who took the brunt of the blow. It was one thing to know that their relationship had been reduced to this, but it was quite another to admit it in person. The brunette was no longer entitled to worry so much, to ask her to watch out and send her a text as soon as she got home. Whatever had been was no more.

— Right, Olivia broke into an almost scoffing snort. Let me tell you, as your captain, that you won't be leaving the precinct for a long time.

— You’re benching me? Liv, you can’t do this!

— What you did was completely irresponsible. You don't want to follow orders, fine. But you're not leaving this desk without my permission.

The young detective had been holding her breath for a long time– far too long. She'd spent days avoiding conflict, lamenting in her corner, mourning the end of a story she'd thought would last forever. It wasn't just about what had just happened, it was something else, something more personal. She felt as if Olivia had no idea how to express her concern, as if her only option was to play the role of the big bad boss. But she was tired of hiding, of running away, of avoiding confrontation.

— Breaking my heart wasn't enough for you, uh? She rose from the bed, hastily putting on her jacket. If you want me to leave the squad, just say so.

For the first time, she faced her head-on. Head held high, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, ready to stand on tiptoe if that would help reach the brunette's height. She faced those brown pearls with all the courage she had left, her own eyes misty with tears she'd never let flow. This was it, so close yet so far, two souls who knew each other becoming strangers once again.

Olivia reached out with a last ounce of regret, brushing away a tear that had escaped down the young detective's cheek with the tip of her thumb. Her heart urged her to do more, to embrace this bruised woman, to bring her all the comfort she needed. She wanted to take Y/N home, wrap her in one of her shirts, tell her how much she loved her. In another life, where they were just two soul mates, where Olivia didn't have to worry about repercussions, whatever they might be. This was where she could find comfort.

— Go home. Take a few days. Get some rest. We'll talk about it when you get back.

The New Yorker had rarely seen a face shattered in a matter of seconds. Her words had urged Y/N to free herself from her hold, her head heavy and spinning from all the hassle and concussion she'd picked up from the blows. Her shoulder nudged her superior's as she walked by, a gesture of no little importance. She did not look back once to meet her former lover's gaze again.

Maybe she should have.

Maybe she would have seen the same love, the same tears, that Olivia saw in her eyes.

Maybe the ice wasn't so thin after all.

•••

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#olivia benson x reader #law and order svu #oneshot #angst #amanda rollins x reader #olivia benson

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narvan-jester · 2 days

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Save A Horse (Bull)

WC: 4,871

Tags: Alternate Universe - Western, Rodeo Competitions, Cowboy Hats, Alcohol, Making Out, Not Beta Read, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Alternate Universe - No Band

Read under the cut or on AO3

The black bull seemed somewhat more wild than before. Phantom's eyes widened a little as the man on screen tilted his face to the camera, flashing it a bright, confident smile. Fuck, maybe it was a good thing Aurora made him stay. The dude definitely wasn't hard on the eyes.

Phantom ends up grabbing a drink with Bull Rider Swiss.

Phantom pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off the incoming headache brought on by the overwhelming sights, sounds, and smells around him, endured for far too long. He let out a sigh. “Aurora, promise me that after this show we'll leave,” he asked, exasperated.

Aurora, his best friend for longer than he could remember, just smiled and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Come on, Tommy, I can't believe you're not enjoying it! Let loose a little, we haven't even seen the goats yet!”

Phantom frowned, wagging his finger in her face. “Oh no, no, no, I know how you work. I've known you long enough. Thirty minutes is going to turn into three hours before you know it. And!” He said, pressing the finger over her lips, keeping them shut as she tried to protest. “You only want to see this next show because you think the rider’s hot. I know you, you never enjoy bull riding.”

Aurora swatted Phantom’s hand away, a pout forming on her face. “You're no fun,” she whined, lifting her hat to sweep her hair back before settling it back on her head. “Besides, after this show there's barrel racing, and I wanted to study some of the riders. You know the Cirrus is here!”

God, Phantom wishes he wasn't so susceptible to Aurora’s charms. “Fine. We'll stay until after Cirrus' show, then we'll leave. Deal?”

Aurora pouted slightly. “Deal. Now come on, we have to get good seats.” She practically dragged him up the metal risers, sitting him down forcefully and plopping herself right next to him. “You never know, maybe you'll enjoy it!”

The pounding behind Phantom’s eyes only increased as a crowd began to gather, mumbling half-heartedly about how he was “missing the sheep shows” and had “already seen the steers”.

He tried valiantly to focus, for Aurora if anything, as the speakers crackled to life. He squinted up at the screen, watching a big black bull shake and toss his head from side to side, restless and stubborn in the closed-off space.

Some name shone on the screen, flashing away before he could read all of it, only catching something like “Swiss”. He rolled his eyes as Aurora poked him a little, straining her neck a little to talk to him close enough to be heard. “That's the one. He'll be last.”

Phantom gave some sort of a half-entertained grunt, seemingly enough for Aurora to not jab him in the ribs.

He didn't pay much attention to the few poor riders flung right off their smaller, tamer bulls, feeling Aurora tense in sympathy as each one hit the ground. Only when he faintly heard the intercom announce the name did he perk up for Aurora’s sake. Not that he needed to be listening, Aurora’s sharp punch in the shoulder was enough for him to straighten up, eyes locked on the screen.

The black bull seemed somewhat more wild than before, possibly helped along by the bull rope now tied around it. His eyes widened a little as the man on screen tilted his face to the camera, flashing it a bright, confident smile. Fuck, maybe it was a good thing Aurora made him stay. The dude definitely wasn't hard on the eyes.

Aurora must have sensed his thoughts, because she once more strained up to talk too loudly into his ear. “I told you he was hot!”

Phantom grumbled, face going red as he pushed her away playfully. “Shut up and watch the show.”

The man has since turned his attention from the camera, carefully mounting the bull. And if Phantom’s eyes were admiring his body as he settled onto the bull on the screens, no one needed to know.

He tore his gaze away from the screen as a shrill beep echoed through the arena, instead looking down to watch the bull rip from its spot into the arena, bucking wildly to rid itself of the parasite on its back.

Phantom couldn't keep his eyes off the man’s hips, rolling and shifting in quick adjustments to accommodate the rapid shift of weight, thighs pinching close to its flank and one hand raised in the air, the other wrapped white-knuckled around the rope.

His movements were fluid, oddly natural as if he fused with the bull itself.

It seemed both an eternity later and far too soon that another buzzer sounded, announcing the end of the ride just eight seconds later. The rider jumped off, rolling into the ground almost gracefully, before hopping to his feet and jogging to the edge where he easily slipped over the fence, dropping onto the other side without issue and quickly absorbed into a wave of bodies.

Phantom was nearly oblivious to the cheers around him, until Aurora giggled beside him. “I bet now you're glad I made you stay,” she teased.

Phantom rolled his eyes, but in truth, his headache was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. In fact, now the pain was nearly imperceptible, as if it wasn't there at all. “You,” he sighed. “I am going to get you back for this.”

Aurora giggled again. “Yeah, sure you will,” she said, eyes only half focused on the bull being rounded up below as they began setting up for the next event. “Come on, there's at least a few minutes until the barrel racing starts, let's grab something quick to eat.”

Phantom simply nodded, following Aurora down the stands with the rest of the previous crowd. Most of the crowd seemed to gather in a throng near where he had spotted the rider jump out of the pen, clearly clambering for a grin or a fist bump or an autograph from the little local celebrity.

He barely noticed he had stopped until Aurora was back at his side, tugging him away. “You absolute dunce, you stick with me, you hear me? I don't care if you want Mr. Swiss Cheese over there to give you a bright little grin, I want a cheeseburger.”

Phantom rolled his eyes, letting himself be dragged along by her. “When do you not want a cheeseburger?”

“Shut your mouth,” she snipped playfully, just continuing to pull him along.

* * *

The little burst of energy gained from watching the bull rider was drained from them too quick for their liking, headache once again presenting to pound at their temples as they sat through all the barrel racing for Aurora. Their gaze barely tracked the rider Aurora had wanted to see, only giving a hum of acknowledgement as she gushed over her methods.

He sort of registered her saying something to him, but it was drowned under a wave of fuzz and pain in his head. The next thing he really noticed was Aurora no longer being by his side, and the realization was enough to immediately zap his brain into overdrive.

His gaze immediately darted over the heads of the surrounding crowd, trying to grasp a glance of her tan hat and failing. He grumbled a little under his breath, wishing she hadn't worn the damned thing when she wasn't even competing just so he could see her colored hair bouncing through the crowd.

Phantom knew she could hold her own in a fight, unfortunately from personal experience, but that didn't still his worry of something serious happening to her. With no other reasonable idea in mind, he set to a brisk walk, hoping to somehow stumble across her.

He took several rounds around the arena, stopping at her favorite food trucks and brushing past the goats just in case. His breath only seemed to quicken in his worry, pulling out his phone to see if he could call her.

He bent over his screen, tapping it and clicking the power button. Fuck. Of course it stayed black, dead. He pocketed it, sighing more with worry than exasperation as he decided to branch out to places he hadn't looked.

God, it was loud. Concrete and sheet metal did not agree with his ears. The floor was covered in a fine layer of dirt and hay dust, which he kicked up with each step. The smell of sweet fair food mixing with animal feces turned his stomach, combined with the worry making it all that more nauseating.

Phantom wasn't even sure where he was walking, barely noticing the fewer people around him as he walked, opening and closing the little metal gates separating areas behind him.

A shrill whistle suddenly caught his attention, turning around to meet the source as someone approached him, rubbing sweat off their face with a bandana. “Ho boy, watcha’ doing back here? You got clearance, or you with anybody?”

His eyes squinted a little, faintly recognizing the face twisted in confusion. “Uh, not sure, but I'm looking for my friend. About yay high, pink and blue dyed hair?” Phantom asked, gesturing. “You seen her?”

The man shrugged. “Probably not back here. Y'know this is where the riders and such are supposed to be?”

Phantom’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit! My bad, haven't been to this venue before. I'll go look elsewhere,” he stammered, stepping back slightly.

The man grinned at him and that finally sparked Phantom’s memory. Jesus fuck, that was the bull rider. Swiss, or whatever his name was. “No need to worry, buddy, no one minds much, just as long as you don't cause problems on purpose. Besides, maybe…” he trailed off, scrubbing a little at the stubble on his face as he thought. “You said pink and blue dyed hair?” He asked.

Phantom’s eyes lit up a little. “Yeah, about shoulder length, and a tan hat.”

Swiss' eyes widened and he chuckled, as he patted Phantom’s shoulder like they were old friends. “I wouldn't bother myself looking for her right now, unless it's a real emergency. I saw Cirrus walking out of here with a little lass matching just the description.”

Phantom lifted his hand to his face, exasperated. “You're joking, right?”

“Nope! Seems like your little friend has wormed her way into the eyes of the big dogs! Trust me, if you go after her now she will kill you, if Cirrus doesn't do it first,” Swiss commented, a bit too casually for Phantom’s liking.

Swiss flashed another of his smiles at Phantom, and his short-lived annoyance vanished in an instant. “Message heard loud and clear. Might as well congratulate you for your time on the bull out there before I get out of your hair.”

Swiss' expression shifted minimally, rummaging in his pockets for something. “Yeah, yeah, it was a tough bull. You got a hat or something for me to sign?”

Phantom’s brow furrowed. “No, no, I don't need an autograph. Never a huge fan of bull riding.”

Swiss' face shifted again, seemingly more light-hearted as he tucked a sharpie back into his pocket. “Damn, hitting me with that now?” He joked, once again slapping Phantom on the shoulder.

Phantom’s face flushed as he groaned, hiding it in his hands. “You know what I meant,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah, I catch your drift. What's your name, kid? You compete in anything?” Swiss asked, nudging Phantom again.

Phantom forced his hands back to his sides with more effort than it should have taken. “I'm Phantom, but most people call me Tom or Tommy. More normal, easier to remember. I typically show sheep or steers, some roping, but this one was too high level for me to really get in,” he told Swiss, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Swiss shrugged, beginning to walk away, gesturing with one hand for Phantom to follow him. “Phantom ain't a bad name. God, at least you're not stuck with the nickname Swiss.” He raised a hand as Phantom opened his mouth to object, almost as though he had sensed it. “Trust me, used to not be as much of a good thing.”

Phantom clicked his mouth shut audibly, nodding along. “No, no, I get it. It's why I started going by Tom instead of Phantom.”

Swiss whistled. “Trust me, kid, you take that uniqueness and hold it tight. No one’s gonna watch if there ain't no bull on the field.”

Phantom tilted his head minutely at the comparison, tucking it away in their mind to ponder over later. “So when do you think Aurora- er, my friend, is going to be back?” He asked, changing the subject.

Swiss chuckled, hunching his shoulders a little bit as that dazzling grin lit up his face once more. “I'd give you two hours at best. At worst, you ain’t seeing hair nor hide of her till morning.”

“Fucking hell,” Phantom groaned, running his hand over his face. “I'm not sure whether to be more disappointed or proud of her.”

That got Swiss to let loose more than his previous chuckles, laughter setting something fizzing and popping in Phantom’s stomach. “Yeah, yeah,” Swiss said, waving away the last of his laughter with a hand. “Say, since you're probably stuck here for a little longer, you wanna sneak out and grab a quick drink with me?”

Phantom's eyes nearly popped from his head. “Well, if you're offering,” he joked, trying to slow his jumping and stuttering heartbeat to a normal speed once more.

Swiss chuckled again, flashing Phantom yet another bright smile. “C’mon, I'll drive us there if you won't mind. My truck ain't far.”

Phantom nodded almost over enthusiastically, energy seeping to pop over his skin. “Yeah, yeah, sounds good!”

Swiss nodded, smile dropping into something more sober as he reached an exit door, pulling his keys into his hand in preparation. “Don't stop for anything, don't talk to anyone. Try and walk as quick as possible, I really don't want to end up signing fifteen more autographs,” he groaned, rolling his wrist.

Phantom nodded, attitude sobering with Swiss as he stepped through the door, pace immediately fast enough to have Phantom stumbling to keep up.

Swiss stopped beside a tall black truck, unlocking it and climbing in. Phantom took to the other side, lifting himself up slightly into the passenger's seat. Swiss shut his door firmly and Phantom did the same, watching as Swiss leaned his head back, eyes closed with a sigh.

Phantom took the moment to rove his eyes over the interior of the truck. Several crushed energy drink cans lay on the floor at his feet, more on the dash and in the backseat. Otherwise, the truck was sleek and clean, furnished by shiny black leather.

Phantom’s eyes darted back to Swiss as he heard a little chuckle, smiling a little awkwardly at him as Swiss gazed back. “Sorry about the mess, most of my buddy’s don't mind,” he said, straightening in his seat and sliding his key into the ignition. “Just throw them in the back seat if they're bothering you.”

“No, no, it's alright,” Phantom said, mind a little dazed still. The conversation drew to an awkward silence as Phantom drew the seatbelt over his body, clicking it into place. “Know any good places around here?” He asked, trying to get the conversation up and running again.

Swiss chuckled, shaking his head as he did the same. “No, no, not really from around here. You?”

“Couple towns over,” Phantom replied, studying Swiss as he began to pull out of the grounds. “We just gonna show up to the first bar we see and hope it ain't crowded?”

Swiss shrugged, a sly smile on his face. “Well, I know one place. You a fan of underground shows?”

Phantom shrugged a little. “I'm pretty much up to anything as long as the beer’s good and the music’s good,” he stated simply.

“Then you might damn near love this place,” Swiss grinned, tossing a glance to Phantom before leaning over and turning up the radio, letting the music fill the truck for the drive.

A few minutes later, Swiss pulled into a little near-empty parking garage, switching off the ignition. “Alright, Phantom, I'm about to blow your mind,” he said, stretching both his arms high over his head with a groan.

Phantom shrugged, a little nip of anxiety working its way into his brain. “You didn't bring me here to kill me, did you?”

Swiss barked out a laugh, warm enough for Phantom to forget his previous worry. “God, of course not! Trust me a little here,” he joked, slipping out of the truck, Phantom following.

Swiss waited until Phantom rounded the truck to meet him, setting off not in the direction of the exit, but instead to a small metal maintenance door inset into the wall. “Wait, Swiss, what are you doing?” Phantom asked, heart rate skipping as Swiss reached for the handle.

“Dude,” Swiss placated, pointing at the metal plaque. “I said it was gonna be an underground show.”

Phantom fixed his attention on the plaque, quickly skimming the words. Raindrop Bar. “Huh,” he muttered simply, tilting his head at the door as Swiss rolled his eyes playfully and pushed his way in.

The atmosphere inside was far different from the empty parking garage they had been in just a moment before. It was populated, for one, eyes pinning on them the moment the door opened before slipping away one by one. It was also louder, too, a little rag-tag band up on a makeshift stage playing something deep and rocky. Dull colored lights swept over the small crowd gathered in front of the stage, and it took a moment for Phantom to realize that Swiss was walking away from him.

They hurried to follow, nearly tripping over themselves as they caught up to Swiss right as he slid into a seat at the bar, flashing a grin at the bartender. Phantom slid in beside him, shifting to get comfortable in the polished wood seat.

The bartender smiled back at Swiss, immediately turning to greet him, sashaying his hips. “Swiss, Swiss, Swiss, what am I going to do with you?” He cooed affectionately.

Phantom’s eyes quickly darted over the bartender’s body, a casual glance-over before his brain caught up to him and his eyes locked on him again. To say he was beautiful would be an understatement, with his curled black hair shining nearly blue around his eyes and with the silver glinting from his ears and face. Their eyes traveled lower for a moment before they diverted their attention, a little panicked and flushed, back to Swiss.

“God, Rainy, don't even try to get on me for this,” Swiss jeered playfully. “You're not much better.”

The bartender turned his attention to Phantom, forcing him to tear his eyes away from Swiss. “Now what's your name and your order?” He asked quickly, stepping back to grab a cup.

“Uh-” Phantom stuttered, glancing at Swiss for a little help. God, it did not help. Swiss was gazing at him with a hungry look in his eyes, grinning lazily. He tore his eyes away as quick as possible, warmth brewing in his gut. “Name's Phantom. How about a good ol’ judge of character?” Phantom asked, mind too frazzled to grasp anything else. “Whatever you think I'd like.”

The bartender nodded, hips swaying a little bit as he whipped up what looked like a cherry sour, sliding it to Swiss. “Gotcha.” He hummed idly, pulling stuff towards himself before speaking again. “So how’d little Swiss here pick you up?”

Phantom shrugged, glancing at Swiss only to be met once more with his grin and forcing himself to look away. “I wandered where I shouldn't have, and sweet talked my way into my current situation,” Phantom joked, trying to play up his confidence. The bartender hummed, eyebrow twitching upward as he slid Phantom a cocktail, orange slice perched on the edge of the glass. Phantom lifted the glass to his lips, sipping it and humming appreciatively at the perfect mix of flavoring and liquor.

Swiss sighed, sipping his own drink. “Yeah, yeah, pretty much,” he commented, waving his hand dismissively. “Phantom, by the way, this is Rain. Good friend.”

Phantom nodded at Rain, smile a little tight as he took another sip of his drink. Rain flourished his hands, shrugging and lolling his head to the side. “Owner of this fine establishment,” he added, voice a little playful.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Swiss joked, taking his hat off his head and tossing it playfully at Rain. Rain caught it, slipping it onto his own head and sticking his tongue out at Swiss as Phantom felt his chest constrict, knowing exactly what that meant.

He diverted his gaze, and downed the rest of his drink, barely registering the taste and instead reveling in the mild burn as it slipped down his throat.

Swiss chuckled at Rain, glancing back at Phantom as he clinked his empty glass back onto the table, stubbornly refusing to look at him. Phantom could feel his expression fall. “Whoa, dude, you okay? Are you still worried about your friend?”

Phantom clenched his teeth, shaking his head and rubbing at the side of his nose a little, huffing, refusing to make eye contact.

Swiss beckoned for his hat back from Rain, quickly sucking the last of his drink up as he shifted slightly in his seat, reaching into a back pocket to slide a ten over the bar. “Alright, let's get you back,” Swiss said, voice quick as he stood, clapping Phantom on the shoulder.

God, he wished he could refuse, but his truck was back at the grounds and his phone was dead so he couldn't call a ride. Damnit. He stood, eyes still stubbornly lowered as he followed Swiss out, missing the look Rain threw him.

He slipped into the passenger seat without saying a word to Swiss, refusing to meet eyes with him. Swiss got in as well, shutting the door, but not starting the ignition.

As the tension stretched between them, Phantom finally glanced up, meeting Swiss' eyes where they were locked on him. “You going to acknowledge me now?” Swiss asked, voice a little sour.

God, maybe alcohol wasn't the best idea for him. That drink must have been stronger than they thought, rolling their eyes and scoffing. “Just take me back, dude.”

Swiss tilted his head. “No,” he deadpanned.

“No?” Phantom sputtered indignantly, glaring at Swiss.

Swiss crossed his arms in front of his chest, brown eyes glowing almost gold from the interior lights shining down on them. Phantom furrowed his brow, cowered a little, suddenly too aware of how much scrawnier they were than Swiss.

“You're a bitch,” Phantom hummed, waving him away and turning his face out the opposite window.

“What upset you so bad?” Swiss asked, voice low and gravely behind Phantom. He stayed stubbornly quiet, making Swiss sigh. “I know this is about Rain and the hat.”

“Yeah, it is about the fucking hat!” Phantom spat with no real malice behind the words, feeling like nothing more than a jealous schoolgirl.

Swiss groaned, and Phantom spared a glance as he dragged his hand over his face, rubbing at the stubble on the sides. “Christ,” he muttered.

“Just take me back,” Phantom muttered, voice a little too quiet. “I was being stupid.”

He suddenly felt a hand grasp his, and gasped indignantly as Swiss dragged it closer to himself onto the center console. Phantom fixed a glare to the top of Swiss' hat as he bent over his hand, writing rapidly into the skin of it.

The moment Swiss straightened, Phantom snatched his hand back, a glance at the skin of his hand making his breath stutter just a bit as he realized what was written there.

Swiss was waiting as Phantom looked back up at his eyes, offering a small smile at him. Phantom squinted, then sighed, eyes darting down again. “Fine. Apology accepted.”

Swiss raised an eyebrow. “That was enough of an apology for you?”

Phantom gazed into Swiss' eyes, scrutinizing them. “What more apology do you have to offer?” He asked, maybe a tinge recklessly.

Swiss slowly raised his hand to the one he had just written on, brushing lightly over the knuckle, sparks flying from the contact. His eyes never left where they were locked on Phantom’s, and he found he couldn't look away either.

It stayed that way for a few moments, long enough for the interior lights to click off. In the dark silence, Swiss spoke again. “Can I kiss you?”

Any other circumstance and Phantom would have said no. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, or the drying ink on his hand, or the tingles in his gut when he recalled Swiss' grin, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he nodded, just a little tilt of the head, leaning towards Swiss.

Swiss met him halfway, lips crashing together in the dark and noses knocking into each other. It wasn't simple or graceful, instead woven with too many complex emotions to study in the dark.

Phantom pulled back for air, chest heaving a little as he tilted his forehead into Swiss’, nudging up his cowboy hat slightly. It seemed almost intimate for a moment, breathing in each other's air, until Phantom darted in again, mouth open and hot against Swiss’.

A hand fisted into his shirt at his back, pulling him closer. The kiss was nearly ravenous, and Phantom couldn't seem to get enough. Swiss pulled away for air this time, and Phantom felt a thin string of spit connect their lips for a moment before falling away.

They sat for a few more moments, chests heaving in tandem as they breathed in each other's warm, humid breath. Swiss twisted his head, nosing at Phantom's neck, hat falling onto the floor without care.

Phantom gasped as Swiss' warm lips plastered themselves to his neck, hands snaking around to grip Swiss' shirt tightly in his hands, eyes fluttering slightly.

Warm, wet kisses were gently placed along his neck, trailing upward to a point just under his ear. Phantom must have whined, gasped, something, because Swiss chuckled before gripping the skin lightly between his teeth and sucking.

“Oh fuck, Swiss, Swiss,” Phantom stammered, nails digging into Swiss' back from where they were clenched.

Swiss pulled away, eyes searching Phantom’s in the low light. “Too much?” He asked, a little sheepish.

“Fuck no,” Phantom managed to mutter, dragging Swiss back towards him and crashing their lips together with more passion than before. Open-mouthed and messy, Phantom reveled in the taste of whiskey on his tongue, whining as Swiss nipped gently at his bottom lip before pulling back again, locking eyes.

They were both panting, hungry with passion. “I need to get you back,” Swiss whispered, voice still too loud for the quiet space punctuated only by their heavy breaths.

“I know,” Phantom replied, voice equal in volume, still unable to tear their eyes away from each other.

“Fuck,” Swiss sighed, pulling away with great effort and sliding the key into the ignition, sparking the engine to life. He picked his hat up from where it had fallen, slipping it back onto his head.

Phantom straitened, a blush spreading on their face as they buckled quickly, embarrassed as light from yellow street lamps washed away the privacy.

It was quiet the entire drive back to the grounds, breaths returning to a normal pace as they kept their eyes averted from each other the whole way.

Swiss eased into a parking spot at the grounds, shifting the truck into park. Phantom undid his seatbelt, opening the door and preparing to step out when Swiss' voice stopped him. “Hey.”

He glanced up to meet Swiss' eyes, irises carrying hope in their deep blue, nearly purple depths.

Swiss took his hat in his hand, reaching and settling it onto Phantom’s hair with a tired smirk. “Call me?” He asked, voice softer than his words suggested.

Phantom nodded, mind feeling fuzzy as he absent-mindedly brushed his fingers over his neck where he could feel bruises forming. “Yeah,” he replied, voice equally as soft as he stepped out of the truck, shutting the door. He stood there as Swiss shifted into reverse, pealing away from him.

And if Phantom stood there for a few minutes, rubbing along his neck, it was nobody's business.

Finally Phantom forced himself into action, glancing around to gain his bearings before setting off in the direction of his truck. His eyes lit up a little as he saw a familiar shape leaning against it, face illuminated by her phone screen. She glanced up as Phantom came closer, smiling at him, before furrowing her eyes at him.

“Did you-”

Phantom cut her off before she could continue. “I won't say anything if you won't,” he mumbled, eyes pointedly fixed on similar marks along the column of her throat.

She shrugged in reply.

“Were you waiting long?” Phantom asked, sidling up to the driver's door, opening it.

Aurora climbing in the other side, shrugging again. “Just a few minutes.” Phantom shut his door, turning on the truck before reaching to the gear shift. Aurora’s eyes locked on his hand as it shifted, widening as she chuckled. “Damn, you did get lucky!” She exclaimed.

“Shut up,” Phantom mumbled, tugging his sleeve over the marker half-heartedly as he began steering them in the direction of home.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #ghost fic #cowboy au

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prettypinkporkchop · 1 day

Note

Can you please do a Paul x reader where she is trying to make Paul really jealous by flirting with embry or Jared

You set down the tiny shovel and place the seeds in the small hole. You covered it up before a voice calls out to you.

"Y/n! I need you!" It's Emily inside her house.

"Coming!" You yell back and stand up from the grass. You look at the flowers Emily got you to plant on the side of her house. You're satisfied with your work, hoping they live a long life.

You walk inside and see Jared and Embry sitting at the table laughing.

Emily is standing at the end of the table, looking disappointed in the boys.

"What's happening?" You chuckle awkwardly.

"These dumbasses made a bet. How Paul would react if you flirted with one of them." Emily sighs.

You face both of them with a raised eyebrow. "What the fuck? Why?" You laugh.

"Because it's funny." Embry says.

"I say, dude phases." Jared bets.

"No, no! Y/n controls his anger the best. I think he gets to swinging." Embry says. "20 bucks if I'm right."

"Whatever, Call." Jared says.

"Do I get a damn say?" You laugh and place your hand on your hip.

They both nod their heads. "Don't worry, you don't gotta do it. Mostly just a thought." He says to you. "I know if Kim were to flirt with your ugly ass, I'd rip your neck off." Jared points at Embry.

Embry rolls his eyes and then turns to you. "You down?" He asks.

"This isn't a good idea." Emily says.

You think for a moment. You've never seen Paul mad. It would kind of be funny. Maybe.

"Fine. Embry, you're the victim. I don't want to hurt Kim." You say.

And just on time, Sam and Paul step inside. You think fast and stand next to Embry, brushing through his hair. "Your hair is so soft." You gush.

Embry sits there awkwardly, not sure what to do. "Thanks. That feels nice." He sighs.

"Alright. Enough." Paul says, grabbing you and kissing you roughly. You kiss him back but pull away fast. Paul scoffs at the short kiss.

Emily whispers in Sam's ear, and he chuckles. That catches Paul's attention. "What?" He asks.

Sam shakes his head as a response.

You stand behind Embry and rest your hands on his bare shoulders. "Damn, you're so buff." You say.

Embry lifts his head and smiles up at you, winking.

"Oh, fuck no." Paul grabs your arm and pulls you into him. "Embry. Get. Your. Ass. Outside. Now." He growls.

You pull yourself out of his arm. Embry stands up and you stand next to him, leaning your head on his arm.

Paul begins to shake. He reaches for Embry and pulls him outside. "Hey! Hey! It's a prank! It's a joke! We're all in on it!" You hear Embry call out.

Everyone rushes out onto the porch. Sam is laughing, watching closely. Now, you're starting to feel bad.

Paul phases and growls at Embry. Embry phases and then cowers down to let him know he means no harm.

Jared laughs and claps his hands. "Embry's giving me 20 bucks."

Paul starts fighting Embry. Embry isn't causing any harm, just pushing him off of him. Then, Paul runs off into the woods. Embry faces you guys, huffs, and runs off, too.

After all of that, you and Paul are walking inside of your home. Before you can do anything, he roughly grabs your ass and then pushes your stomach against the wall. Your face is pressed up against it. He moves one hand up and wraps his fingers around your throat. He pulls your head back to whisper in your ear. "Don't you ever pull that shit again." He growls.

He forcefully turns you around so your back is against the wall. He lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around him. He kisses you roughly. He's biting. His tongue is forceful. Your hands reach his shoulders and you slightly dig your nails in his skin.

He throws his head back and then smirks. "Bed. Ass up. Don't speak." He warns.

YUH YUH! THANKS!

#twilight #embry call #jacob black #jared cameron #paul lahote #sam uley #seth clearwater #twilight wolfpack #leah clearwater #quil ateara #paul lahote x reader

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loveesiren · 3 days

Text

Doing It All For Us (Pt. 8)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

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

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

Word Count: 5.7k+

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

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

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

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

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

"Baby-"

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

"Do you want me to-"

"No!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah, keepin' her all to yourself?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"R-Rafe." You stutter.

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

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

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

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

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

The voices became too much and you start screaming.

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

You were practically ripping your hair out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're good," Barry reassured you.

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

Fifteen minutes later, there was knocking on the door.

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

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

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

Rafe held you tighter than he ever had before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My end!" You sob loudly.

*insert my favorite gif i can't find*

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

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

"Y/N!" Courtney yelled.

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

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

You started screaming again and tugging at your hair again.

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

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

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

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

"What the fuck!" The boys yelled.

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

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

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

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

You stirred slightly but leaned deeper into your pillow.

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

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

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

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

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

———-

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

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

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

You stuck it to the counter and sat down.

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

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

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

———-

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

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

"RAFE!" Courtney screamed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You her boyfriend?" The paramedic asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

————–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How long have I been here?"

"Six hours."

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

The larger nurse steps towards you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you okay?"

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

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

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

____________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You and Rafe both ignored him.

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

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

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

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

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

"Can you bring Courtney tomorrow?" You ask.

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

"What is it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yep!"

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

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

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

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

"Him?" She asks, raising her eyebrows.

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

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

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

________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey baby!"

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

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

"Fuck yes!" You say excitedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Courtney, I'm so sorry-"

"Why'd you do it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I promise, Court."

She smiles. "Go, tell Rafe."

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

"I love you, too." She smiles.

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

"Everything okay?" He asks.

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

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

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

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shannonsketches · 4 months

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like why did they change where Vegeta was when Cell announced the cell games in the anime

why did they make this vegeta starting shit with yamcha instead of chillin in the lab with his family? why did they take Bulma out of the lab? Why'd they say she was Out while Dr Brief was repairing 16? Why did they change Bulma working on advanced robotics to running in late with her baby?

it's the same scene except: - Bulma's actively at work being a scientist - Vegeta's not being rude to her (or anyone else!) - Vegeta waits for Trunks instead of leaving the room - Cell interrupted the airwaves, which means Trunks and Vegeta were just hanging out with Bulma and Dr B while they were working

Those are all Great Character Details!! That the anime rails against!!

#these cowards afraid of showing Vegeta actively choosing to be around his wife and child even when he's Bad #Because Goku who is Good never ever even once makes that choice onscreen outside of filler #and then they justify that choice by making Chi-Chi seem horrid and unreasonable for (checks notes) Not Wanting Her Child to Die #anyway I am once again being bitter about anime vs manga klasjdklasd #I can't believe I let the anime convince me I hated Goku man Goku's SUCH a good and ridiculous character in the manga #the anime just SUCKS at letting him be who he's always been #and has to reframe and recontextualize and reword everything he does so that it seems like he's Actually Quite Mature and Thoughtful nO #THAT's VEGETA YOU COWARDS #also the fact that bulma said she wouldn't live with him at the beginning of this arc to him casually hanging out with her and trunks #after cell beat his ass and humbled him is REALLY GOOD SUBTEXT for their shared relationship having improved without showing it #it's great subtext for all three of them and toei just went 'nah' and decided to make it a whole group shot so ...? Master Roshi could sit #and explain how ??? Tournaments Work??? Just so Cell could log on and also explain how tournaments work?? God it's been so long #since I've watched the anime and now when I do it just makes me mad aklsdjskja the manga is SOOOOO much better #there are some spots where the pacing is more ideal in the anime like goku turning ssj for the first time but like man. everything else is.#like why are you making Goku snarky with Vegeta dude his clapbacks are SO much funnier when they're just Tactless Honesty #like Vegeta's not insulted by Snark bitch he grew up in the Freeza force that man was raised by THE bitchiest drag queens #Vegeta's insulted by someone saying something deeply and insultingly True to his face as if it's the fucking weather #Goku in the anime is like 'a battle of wits hoho' but Goku's purity is part of the joke he's not snippy he's just got no social etiquette #He's just honest! He's not trying to be insulting. That's what MAKES it insulting! That's the WHOLE GAG of why Vegeta can't stand him #Goku is always just telling the truth and it's always the rudest shit Vegeta's ever heard in his life #'it's a sunny day! i'm way stronger than you! see you out there bud!' 10000% Genuinely Friendly. Golden Retriever-Ass Pure.#Infuriating. Hilarious.#anyway I looked at anime clips to make sure I remembered things right and that was a mistake #as someone who has a soft spot for it and grew up on it -- compared to the manga it's bad and it's always been bad #and toriyama was right to be disinterested in watching it jesus christ they BUTCHERED his work #anyway this has been another shot of haterade with sketches thank you for scrolling my rambletags askljdask #dbtag #i just truly can't get over how they make Vegeta call her 'woman' in the anime and he literally only ever calls her Bulma in the manga #except for on namek when he refers to her as 'the/that woman' because she is a complete stranger #why is he calling her woman like he's a 1940s american husband and not an extraterrestrial from a deeply advanced society toei

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iangallagherisadeadman · 5 months

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post-s11 Tami definitely gets tired of Lip and leaves him.

yes, I do like them as a couple, I think it is an interesting dynamic and that Tami is good for him honestly, even though they lived completely different lives and crash so many times because of it throughout the last seasons.

fact is Lip won't ever change and will keep making the same kind of mistakes and she will get fed up with it eventually. they'll go different ways, maybe keep a somewhat friendly relationship, and she will get a new partner and Lip will have a Sean kind of relationship with Fred: that kid is the most important thing in his whole life and he's constantly hunted by the fear of drinking again and hurting Fred.

#headcanon?#its not that i desire lip to be unhappy and unlovable i just feel like he wont get his happy ending living the way he is #making the decisions hes making treating people the way he does #i feel like he is going to mature by the power of love because of fred i truly believe that #also no fucking way hes going to be poor for the rest of his life hes a genius and a southside he will get up and fix this up #i like him as a mecanic but that one s11 scene that he saves that dude a lot of money in the computer doing a super simple thing #means to me hes not done with the whole engineer thing. he just will need lots of money and labs he used to have acess at college and doesn #anymore but he will do whats necessary and turn things around definitely #maybe he thinks he can pull this off without going back to college and eventually realises he cant and then has to try to pick up his credi #and finish somewhere near? i dont know i dont understand lots about US educational system #honestly my dream is for him to work for debbie so she could be his boss it would be his life karma and make her happy #but that would never happen unfortunately #lip gallagher #tami tamietti #fred gallagher #shameless #shameless us #og.#fic idea

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r0semultiverse · 1 year

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Absolutely wild to me that some human guy was just messing around with experimental medicine and invented what is essentially a vampiric blood disease & that’s how we have Muzan! 👀

#don’t flay me for this; but I’m not sure what I was expecting for the demon backstory but it certainly wasn’t that??#a guy just messing around with medicine because some dude had a life threatening disease #and then somehow that turned into occult abilities out of nowhere #it almost feels anti-climactic??? but I still like it!#don’t ask what I would change because I have no idea it just really caught me off guard that it was something like that #that demons are basically a vampiric blood mutation of a guy giving you his condition #still not sure why Muzan is petty about doctors not having a cure??? like bro they’re trying their best and the technology isn’t that good #yet that long ago like bro please that’s not a reason to hate all of humanity and put that on them #demon slayer spoilers #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer anime #demon slayer #muzan demon slayer #demon slayer muzan #mine #OP

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the-witch-of-woods-beyond · 4 months

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okay cause cheating is wrong, obviously. but some people are really out here going, no it’s okay that they’re a murderer who killed your family and ruined your life and straight up abused you and also is significantly older than, no that’s okay they had a secret reason they never told you about and a tragic backstory - oh wait they cheated??? how dare they!!!!!

like i’m sorry but cheating is not the worst thing in the world compared to what i listed above and sometimes in media it can actually be understandable why a character cheats but everyone calls them a monster - which yeah cheating sucks - but then turn around and in the same breath go, oh that terrible abusive piece of shit that’s hot and has a villain aesthetic but does shitty things for shitty reasons?? they’re my faveee how dare you hate them for valid reasons??

#this is about soooooooo many shows but i cba to tag them all #elena gilbert #delena #stelena #i hate both ships and one day ill compile my thoughts on why but BOTH brothers needed to stay the hell away from my girl #and the fandoms reaction to a traumatised teenager enrages meeeee #cause dont say you hate her and that she deserves to d!e for reaction to things like a TEENAGER would #and then turn around and go but those two brothers almost ten times her age who abuse her and treat her like sh!t #and only like her cause she looks like this girl they knew centuries ago who abused them and almost tore them apart?? oh theyre my favourit #like stfu and go rewatch the show #alsooooo #saraha cameron #my babyyyyy #my angel #my darling treasure who deserves warm hugs and fluffy blanekts for the rest of her life #cause no way you guys looked a teenage girl who was homeless and depressed and going through it who had just had the worst moment #of her LIFE thrown in her face by her HUSBAND try to go back to a time in her life when she was happy and loved and call her a b!tch #but then looked at her phycho brother who tried to DR0WN her and kill all of her friends and shot someone in front of her only to blame it #on her husband and the go oh but hes a typical moody depressed hot guy with a tragic backstory and messed up parental relationships #so i love himmmmmm 🤪#like no no no STFUUUU #also like that wasnt bad enough you then started to ship him with the girl he also tried to DROWN whos friends hes been trying to kill #like this a grown dude who likes to waste his dads money and get high and drunk going after teenagers and killing people #but you love him and then complain about said teenagers acting like teenagers?????#like no you dont deserve these shows go awayyyy

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asyipyip · 6 months

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hold on everyone shut up im getting super emotional about jonathan sims

#tma #kara stop blogging #thinking about the web. thinking about how it was his first mark #and how that mark how that unaddressed trauma so deeply affected him.#and how befitting that is for the web too- to tie someone up its strands for YEARS #thinkin about how almost every single decision that man makes is made out of fear #that motherfucker has never felt safe in his god damn life you can tell and im EMOTIONAL ABOUT IT #thinking about how so much of his fear response is CONTROL because of it. His ridiculous skepticism was him trying to control it #if he denies it if he refuses to believe in it it cant hurt him #about his paranoia and desperation for knowledge is so rooted in that fear of losing control #about his entire s4 arc and grappling with becoming inhuman. about not feeling like he has any kind of personal autonomy #and how so often thats written off as him making excuses (and dont get me wrong- he makes excuses too. im not saying he doesnt) but also-#like you look at what happened with his first leitner and its like. he couldnt move. couldnt do anything to escape #and then when the other boy got taken he couldnt do anything to save him either #of course he feels like hes never had any control #of course hes desperate for knowledge- if he had only *known* what couldve happened then he couldve prevented it.#the survivors guilt is so deeply part of his character #and thats what makes jonah targeting him so fucking insidious and scary #he took his man who is already so terrified- put him in a situation where he was so out of his depth #knowing that his fear response would be to desperately try and figure out what was happening- to keep asking questions--#pulling himself deeper into the eyes influence and easily turning it around and making it Jon's fault #as if Jon isn't trapped like everyone else- it's just his fear response is so fucking perfect for the role the eye needs him to play #and then it leads to the ultimate trauma of ripping control away from Jon and forcing him to do something so fucking horrible #something he would never in a million years CHOOSE TO DO #how he's so terrified of being made a pawn and he is. playing a game against elias where he couldn't even see the board #locking him out of his own body...forcing him to open the door. like. FUCK #I MEAN FUCK DUDE. PETER LITERALLY SAYS “HE GOT YOU” WHEN JON ASKED WHAT HIS 'PRIZE' WAS #LIKE SCRATCH THAT!!! FUCKING SCRATCH THAT!! he wasn't even a player he was a fucking PIECE in the game #GOD!!!#GOD!!!! free my boy he did nothing wrong (he did so many things wrong)

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femonologue · 6 months

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Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

#I have no idea what to tag this. if you need me to tag it as something just tell me I guess

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kruxton · 10 months

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aphantasia not letting me dream at night most of the time but the only two dreams i remember having in all of my life were the scariest shit ever

#first one was the worst #i was a kid stuck in the car in what seemed to be an aisle between two buildings but instead of buildings it was just a wall? im not sure #i was alone and the doors were locked and there was a blinding white light coming from in front of me #it was kinda like a gas station's strange neon light in the middle of nowhere at night kinda light yk #so im at the backseat trying to get out when i suddenly feel like someones outside and THERE WAS because i could hear a shuffling #it was fast and like if a child was running around in leaves and guess fucking whaf #it was fucking CHUCKY #and he had his little knife and all and he was covered jn blood and i looked out the car and i saw my parents and i wanted to cry #he was rattling the door like crazy trying to get in and i was fucking frozen #then he managed to get in and i woke up in a sweat for the first time in my life #i was shaking like crazy dude i never had a nightmare before #weirdest thjng is ive never even seen chucky???? so why did he come in my ever so rare dreams i will never know #anhwyas that one sucked #second dream i was at school and we all turned into zombies and it was the scariest thing ever #like imagine an all of us are dead scenarjo #the korean show i think is what its callex yeah #i had just finished watchjng it and it camenup in my dreams ig #watched my friends get turned into zombies and stuff it was craaaazy #had to kill.em too and k cried doing it #but then i saw my teacher and he for some unknown reason had PINK HAIR #and i woke up instantly because what thw fuck thats hilarious #did not wake uo shaking for that dream tho so i'll take that one anyday instead of the chucky shit #okay km done #hehe #storytime #text #random

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happy74827 · 2 months

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Feels Like Home

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You decide to take it upon yourself to become best friends with Wade’s new grumpy addition to the family (much to Logan’s dismay).

WC: 2453

Category: Fluff, Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Logan trope {TW: Bar Fight, Handsy Drunk Dude, Mentions of Blood + Bruising}.

[Dedicated to: @iluvloganhowlett] I finished it for you!! (I’m shocked at the speed too don’t worry 💀). Hopefully this fluffiness will help add onto the low supply out there.

And incase anyone hasn’t seen it yet: DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

『••✎••』

You’ve always had a keen eye when it came to others. It’s mostly why you and Wade get along so well; you’re the one person who can see straight through him. And while it means you are very close, it also meant that you can easily tell when something is going on with someone you don't know that well, like the tall, brooding man named Logan, who had just joined the club of misfits.

You could tell by the way he carried himself that he had been through hell and back. He was quiet, grumpy, and had a tendency to snap at Wade, which, most of the time, was a well-deserved snapping.

You could also tell that there was more to him. He wasn't just a grumpy guy; there was something about him that made you want to be his friend. Maybe it was the sadness in his eyes, or maybe it was how lonely he looked.

Either way, you knew he was in need of a good friend, and you wanted to be that friend. Not a pestering one like Wade, but the kind of friend that just makes you feel a bit better.

So, when you spotted him, downing glass after glass of whiskey for the third day in a row, you just knew you had to help.

And he hated it. Oh, man, he absolutely hated it. You were such a happy ray of sunshine, always smiling, always laughing. He found it so fucking annoying. He couldn't deal with you and your constant positivity. It was like you were the PG-13 version of the breathing ballsack next to you.

But you wouldn't give up. Every time you saw him, you would try to cheer him up by making silly jokes, giving him small gifts, or even just sending him encouraging smiles.

He didn't want any of it, but it seemed you were too stubborn to listen. Every small note you’d given him was left crinkled in the trash; every gift was placed away without ever being touched. Your smile never got a response.

That is, until one day, as you walked by him, he mumbled something that almost made you trip over.

"Thanks."

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face him, a look of disbelief on your face. You had tried so hard to cheer him up for the past few weeks, and this was the only thing you got from him? You couldn't believe it.

You had spent so much time and effort trying to make him feel better, and this was all he could say to you?

You wanted to hug him. To scream to the skies and celebrate that he finally accepted your kindness.

You held the restraint to do so, though. You didn’t want to cause him to close off again, and so instead, you sent him a soft smile, and a small nod, before you resumed walking (running) to your friends.

The next day, however, you were met with the biggest surprise of your life.

Logan was sitting at the bar, drinking. He didn't look too different, still dressed in his trademark blue jeans and flannel shirt, but his face was still holding that sadness you had grown used to seeing on him.

You walked over to him and sat down beside him, that classic smile of yours plastered on your face.

"Hi!"

He groaned. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"

"Nope!" You replied cheerfully, popping the 'p.'

He grumbled under his breath and downed the last of his drink, signaling to the bartender for another.

"Come on, Wolvie," you said, nudging his shoulder. "Lighten up. Life's not that bad, is it?"

He turned to glare at you, his dark brown eyes piercing into yours. "It's Logan," he said, his voice a low growl.

You shrugged and leaned closer to him, propping your elbow on the counter. This was the usual part—the part where he would give vocal responses while you carried on your one-sided conversation with him.

The difference this time, the surprise of it all, was when a person approached the both of you. Mind you, a very drunk person.

"Heyyyyy, baby girl," he slurred, his hand landing on your shoulder.

You turned to him, and he was looking you up and down with that gaze you knew had only one intention. You still smiled, though, and politely moved his hand off your shoulder.

"Uh, hi?" You answered unsurely.

He slammed his elbow on the counter, his palm on his fist. "You are gorgeous," he commented, and you had to hold back the laughter that was bubbling in your throat.

"Thank you," you chuckled.

Logan scoffed, rolling his eyes, but you paid him no mind. Usual behavior from him, nothing new.

"No, really," the stranger continued, moving his arm around your shoulders, "I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Well, I'm glad you think so," you answered, still chuckling. "But, I think you're a little drunk."

"Drunk on love," he responded, "Say, wanna get out of here? I'll show you a real good time."

Here comes the awkward part, you thought.

You shook your head, and removed his arm from around your shoulders. "Thank you for… uh, the kind offer," you answered, "But, no, thank you."

You expected him to shrug it off and leave or to just be a dick, as many drunken guys are. But no, this guy did not know how to take a hint.

Instead, he tightened his grip around you and pulled you closer to him, his free hand moving down your waist. "Come on, baby," he said, his words slurring. "You know you want to."

You sighed. You were really hoping it wouldn't have to come to this.

You were about to speak, to politely, yet firmly, tell him to leave you alone, but before you could open your mouth, a gruff voice beat you to it.

"She said no,"

He didn’t even look at the man or you. His eyes were still fixated on the counter as if he was talking to his glass, but he had turned his head a bit to the side so that you could hear him clearly.

The drunk stranger was startled by the sudden intervention. He let go of you and looked over at Logan, confusion clear in his face.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, his brows furrowed.

"Does it matter?" Logan grumbled.

"Yeah, it does," the stranger retorted, his slurring voice suddenly getting serious. "If I'm gonna be having fun, I don't want an audience."

Oh, how you hated confrontations.

Logan just scoffed with a slight hint of a smile, shaking his head as he still refused to turn around.

"Trust me, pal," he replied, "I ain't interested in watching you do anything."

"Good." He went back to his obnoxious grin, now directing his attention back to you. Oh, man, he was an eyesore.

"So, how about it, beautiful? Wanna head somewhere else?" He slurred.

You were about to reply, again, with a polite rejection, but your shoulder was being grabbed at again, and if it wasn’t for the small training session that Colossus had put you through, you were sure you would have lost your footing.

"Can you let go of me, please?" You asked politely, but the man was a brick wall.

"Nah, sweetheart," he shook his head, and the movement was so intense, you could almost hear the alcohol sloshing around in his head, "You're comin' with me. Trust me, you’ll be perfectly taken care of."

That was when the sound of glass slamming against the counter reached your ears, and you didn't have to see the source of the sound to know it was Mr. Grumps.

What you struggled for what seemed like an eternity, he took that needy arm away from your shoulders within a fraction of a second. It was almost shocking how quick he was, but then again, you knew what he was capable of.

With you safe against the counter, Logan turned to face the stranger, his face still showing that same neutral expression as before, though his eyes held an intensity that made the man flinch.

Normal people would believe he had the patience of a saint. But you weren’t a normal person. You knew this was dangerously close to making him lose it.

"Uh, Logan… maybe we should—"

But your words fell on deaf ears. The only thing that Logan could hear was the weak excuses the guy was trying to give as he tried to pull his hand from the tight grasp Logan had it in.

"Hey, man," he stuttered, his words slurring as the panic set in, "What’s your problem? Let go of me!

But Logan had no intentions of doing so. He held the stranger's arm firmly, his grip growing tighter until he could hear a small crack coming from the guy's bones.

"What's your damage, huh?" the guy continued, trying his best to keep his voice from breaking. "It's just a little fun, right, baby?"

You cringed as his eyes fell back onto you, and the pleading tone of his voice was beginning to make your skin crawl.

"Look, uh," you started, looking anywhere but his eyes, "I don't think—"

"Listen," the man continued, and your eyes fell shut. God, he was just not going to stop. "Maybe you can join us? Huh, big boy? That’s what it is, right? You want her all for yourself?"

Uh, oh.

"Logan, don’t—"

It was too late. He had already snapped, and with a grunt, he pulled the man closer to him, his other hand forming a fist around his shirt.

"Wanna say that again?" He growled. "Do it. I dare you."

The man was trembling in his grasp, but he was clearly too drunk to understand the danger he was in.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you her boyfriend?" He taunted, and the fact that he had the guts to do so while his hand was in a painful hold was astonishing, even for you. "Or are you just some guy with a crush? Cause, honestly, it's pretty pathetic. You can't even ask her out."

His words had Logan seeing red, and before you could do anything, the guy was pushed away and was about to be on the receiving end of one of the strongest punches you've ever seen.

So, riskily, to protect yourself and him from being thrown out of his favorite place, you jumped off the stool and slid in between them as he launched his punch, just stopping inches away from your face.

"Please," you said, your palms up and in front of you, as if that would do anything to stop the rage he was feeling, "Please, calm down."

"Calm down?" He repeated, his voice rising. "Are you kidding me?"

"You need to let it go," you told him. "He's drunk, Logan. He doesn't know what he's saying."

"And, what," he retorted, his anger slowly fading away, "Does it look like I give a single fuck about that?"

You sighed, your eyes meeting his, and that was enough for him to finally give in. His clenched fist dropped, and he released a frustrated sigh.

The dude behind you started laughing, his voice sounding as if he was trying to make fun of a fight scene.

"So," he chuckled, "That's it, huh? You're not gonna do shit? You’re just as pathetic as a—"

He gently moved you aside, and in an instant, the man was lying on the floor with a bloody nose, a black eye, and a few broken ribs.

You could only hold your head in your hands, knowing very well the mess you were about to have to deal with.

And it didn't take long.

As soon as Logan stepped away from the drunk idiot, security was on him, grabbing his arms and restraining him. He couldn’t care less, though, as he held a sadistic grin on his face, pleased with his work while being escorted out.

And, so, there, the two of you were on the steps of the apartment building. You, holding your hands in your lap, and he, staring up at the night sky.

The air was warm, the city lights were dim, and the sky was covered in clouds. There was an odd silence between the two of you, which wasn’t really all that odd, but the events of the night had changed the atmosphere.

"Thanks," you spoke, breaking the quiet. "For, you know, standing up for me."

"He was a douche," he stated, his voice gruff. "Someone had to send that fucktart crying home to mommy."

"You shouldn’t have done that, though," you told him. "Now, you’re probably banned from the bar. I know it's your favorite."

"Eh," he shrugged, "Booze is booze. There are plenty more places to get drunk."

You didn't respond. Instead, you focused your attention on the small bugs flying around the dim light next to the door.

"You shouldn't be thanking me, anyway," he continued, turning to you. That was new. "I should be the one thanking you."

You looked at him, your brows furrowed. This whole conversation was getting weird. "Uh, what for?" You asked, confused.

"For putting up with me," he replied, shrugging.

"Putting up with you?" You repeated, not understanding. "I don't understand."

"Y'know," he continued, his gruff voice a little less gruff. "Sticking around. Being friendly. Having… patience. I can be…I can be a real dick. Honestly, I still don't get why you keep trying."

The smile that found its way to your lips waa the most genuine one he's ever seen. Your eyes were full of kindness and understanding, and your lips, which usually held a grin or a smirk, were turned upwards in a soft, gentle smile.

"Logan," you said, your voice low. "You may be a grump, and you might not be the friendliest guy, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve kindness. Everyone deserves that… or at least a little bit of it."

He scoffed. "That's funny," he replied, turning his head away.

You furrowed your brows and cocked your head, confused. "What is?" You asked.

"I used to think," he began, "That no one would ever look at me in the way you do. Not after what I’ve done… not after what I am."

"You're a good man, Logan," you told him. "You proved who you were when you willingly helped Wade."

"Maybe," he sighed, his gaze meeting yours. "But, there's still a lot you don't know about me. I'm not exactly a knight in shining armor."

"Oh, my dear, Wolvie," you said playfully, leaning closer to him and placing your palm on his shoulder, "You never were."

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sutorus · 1 year

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BAD IDEA RIGHT? BEST FRIEND'S DAD!TOJI for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: you and megumi are old friends, but a recent development (called growing up) has made you aware of just how hot his dad, toji fushiguro, really is. you sit on your desire for years until one night, you get an idea.

PAIRING: best friend’s dad!fushiguro toji x reader

WC: 5.1k whoops!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORDS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, age gap! power dynamics, slight daddy kink, degradation, spit (like a lot it's a Thing here), oral (m! receiving), unprotected relations, slapping, gaping, size difference/size kink, creampie, toji is Nasty and a pretty bad dude lol

A/N: this is nasty and very descriptive i’m so sorry i really sinned here. anyway enjoy!

you and megumi have been friends since school. after all, it was inevitable that a friendship would form between the only two kids whose parents consistently forgot to pick them up after class.

nods of acknowledgment quickly developed into trading pokémon cards, sharing samanco waffles, cheating off each other during tests.

it was the most meaningful relationship you had in your life, the one other person who really got you and the situation you were in, and before you knew it, you two were being admitted to the same college, like you’d talked about all those years ago.

in the meantime, megumi’s dad had… mellowed out. from what you knew.

sure, he was still gone for weeks at a time, neglectful, irresponsible and womanizing, but one final falling out with their family seemed to have lifted a big weight off his shoulders, and he became more present in megumi’s life, less resentful. you knew he wasn’t a good guy, but you also knew he was trying, in his own way.

besides that, you also couldn’t help noticing other things about the man. you first started paying attention when you were in high school, always hanging out at megumi’s place to play video games or study.

toji would come home sometimes, smelling of smoke and sake, tonguing the scar on the side of his lip. plopping down on their shaggy sofa, legs spread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his pants. you would give megumi some excuse about getting something from the kitchen and just watch toji, lazily browsing channels with one hand inside his sweats.

it wasn’t a big deal. but it never quite went away, your infatuation growing with your desperation the more the man hung around. you did everything you could to get his attention.

you wore the frilliest, shortest skirts, left dirty dishes on the sink, showed up too late at night drunk and stumbling “looking for megumi”, acting out so you could try to get some reaction out of toji. but he never seemed to give you a second thought, annoyance being the closest thing to an emotion on his face every time your eyes met.

but you were no quitter. you knew one day you would get what you deserved. maybe not today, but… eventually.

you approach the fushiguro household’s front door, fishing out the extra key megumi had given you from your backpack pocket. you two had a study session today but he’d texted you telling you he’d be late and to just let yourself in, so that’s what you do.

with a sigh, you set down your laptop on their coffee table and sit down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. before you can finish getting comfortable, a tall, broad figure is looming over your face and you almost jump out of your skin.

“what the f—oh my god,” you laugh in embarrassment. “you scared me, fushiguro-san.”

he doesn’t react, his eyes boring into yours. “me? you’re the one breaking into my house.”

you roll your eyes, pulling your legs up below your body. “megumi gave me a key. we’re supposed to study today, do you know where—“

“he’s with that itadori kid. don’t think he’s coming back tonight,” toji moves to sit down on the loveseat, turning the tv on. the old, boxy thing crackles to life, a boat race playing on the screen. toji adjusts his body in attention. “so you can fuck off back home.”

“um,” you start, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. you let your eyes wander all over his lax form, and you can faintly make out his abs below the raggedy shirt he’s wearing. it makes your stomach turn.

without taking his eyes off the screen, he addresses you again. “you know where the door is.”

an idea starts to form in your head. a really, really bad, tempting idea.

you discreetly take off your sweatshirt, leaving you in just your undershirt, no bra. you hope toji can scent the whiff of perfume you exude when you move, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa.

“nah, i think i’ll just study here. my parents are home today and they’re too… y’know.”

“not my fuckin’ problem,” he picks at his teeth, spreading his legs wider. your desperation is growing with each second he spends not looking at you.

you lift up your bag, something clinking inside. it's a bold move, but it's now or never.

“i brought booze. we could just share some and then i’ll go.”

that at least gets a reaction. the man snorts, finally glancing over at you from the corner of his eyes. you instinctively push your chest out, feeling eager.

“is that what you do with my son under my roof? get shitfaced in the house that i pay for?”

“well i paid for the vodka so i don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you make a point to pull out the bottle from your bag, swinging it around.

toji’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. you know he doesn’t like to be challenged, absolutely hates smart mouths. you should be in for a treat.

“who the hell do you think you’re talking to, kid?” he stands up and snatches the bottle from you, turning it around in his — big, veiny, deliciously calloused — hand and laughing. “vanilla flavored? fuck, you really are a kid.” he says it like the realization excites him.

you can feel your face flush.

“are you gonna turn down free alcohol, toji?” it’s risky, dropping the honorific. you know he doesn’t like it, can see it in his face, but he doesn’t say anything.

instead, he unscrews the top with ease and takes a swig, grimacing at the taste. you watch as his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing.

his arms are huge, you can’t imagine he was ever shaped like megumi is nowadays, slender and frail. toji is tall and broad and big, with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his defined features.

he grabs two whiskey glasses and sets them down on the coffee table — no coasters —, pouring some vodka in both of them. it was most definitely not your idea to do straight shots tonight with megumi, but you will not go through the humiliation of asking for a soda to mix it with.

you’re desperate to have toji view you as the adult you are, no longer megumi’s awkward middle school best friend. you know you’ve grown up well; all you need is for toji to see it too.

you drink in silence for a bit, the only noises coming from toji being his disappointed grunts as the boats he bet on fall behind. you type away at your laptop, not really being able to focus with the heat rising within you.

he refills both your cups a couple more times, but makes no effort to talk.

you slowly but surely start to get antsy, your determination wavering and giving way to a funny feeling one can only experience by drinking with their best friend’s dad who they’ve wanted to fuck for like, ever.

so you bite the bullet and with the liquid courage flowing in your veins, you strike up conversation.

“y’know, toji, i’ve always wanted to ask,” his head lolls on his shoulder to look at you lazily and disinterested. “what happened to megumi’s mom? he doesn’t talk about it.”

“yeah, well. me either,” toji replies. you take a deep breath.

“you’re gone a lot. megumi is alone a lot.”

toji scoffs.

“thought that was what you were here for, hmm? megumi’s done well for himself,” he finally, probably for the first time in your life, gives you a proper look over, his eyes traveling all over your frame, tucked into the armrest of the couch. “scored himself a nice little bitch.”

you let out a strangled noise. you’re fighting laughter when you exclaim, “i’m sorry?! you think megumi and i have a—like, a thing?”

toji just shrugs, stretching one leg out in front of him. “i figured. why else would you loiter around my house so much?”

oh, if he only knew.

“no, no. it’s never been like that. megumi’s not really my type.” toji hums inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue. “i’m into more… mature guys.”

toji eyes you knowingly, but seemingly amused.

“that right?” you nod. “fuckin’ kid like you even know what to do with a man?”

you raise an eyebrow. you’re a sophomore in college, well into your twenties. he can’t be serious. “surely you know i’m not a kid anymore. surely you d—“

“surely my ass,” he exclaims and oh, he’s a little terrifying like this. toji downs however much was left in his cup and turns to you, pointing with the hand holding his glass. “you’re a full of shit, foul mouthed, rude brat. get the fuck out of my house, you’re pissing me off.”

you’re used to toji’s outbursts, not because you know him well but because every time you see him, seldom as it is, he always loses his temper, sooner or later.

“i think,” you take another sip, feeling loose. “your old ass wouldn’t be able to handle sex. like, actual sex, not those rich hags you who just lay there for you and give you money in the end. if you had to put in any real work i bet your heart would give out you slimey pi—“

you can’t finish your sentence because you can’t breathe, suddenly. your eyes widen, chest spasming as your oxygen gets cut off mid-sentence. toji has one of his huge palms covering your nose and mouth.

you look up at him with watery eyes but he’s not looking back, he’s chugging vodka straight from the bottle again.

he puffs his cheeks and moves his hand to cup your jaw, smirking around a mouthful of alcohol.

you catch your breath quickly, the hand that was clawing at his falling limply on your lap. toji holds your face, his grip unforgiving as he leans over you. his form is so, so much bigger than yours, towering over you completely, and all you can do is look up at him with a blank expression.

his thumb pries your mouth open with ease, the digit hooking behind your bottom teeth as toji’s face gets closer and closer. on instinct, you close your eyes.

soon, hot, stinging liquid is pouring steadily into your mouth. toji swishes the rest of the vodka between his cheeks — on purpose, you’re sure — before spitting it directly on your tongue.

it’s disgusting, everything about it makes your stomach churn, but it also makes you squeeze your legs together, chest rising and falling rapidly as you swallow without having to be told to.

“ya talk too fuckin’ much, brat,” he grumbles. ironically, you’re at a loss for words. “someone needs put you in your place already.”

“you,” your voice cracks and nearly fails you, but you’re determined. it surprises him, that you’d have something to say. that you’re still game. you can see it in his face, in the way his hands come off of you. “i want you to.”

toji’s expression is hard and unchanging. his fingers go back to your face, two of them slipping inside your lax lips.

your breath stutters as you inhale, instinctively sucking the digits and working your tongue around them.

toji grabs his cock through his pants pointedly.

“fuckin’ slut… that what you want?” you nod. he takes a step forward, knees hitting the couch. “is that why you walk around my house looking like a fucking whore?”

a whine dies in your throat at the sweet, sweet recognition.

he noticed.

he noticed and it bothered him and you really couldn’t bring yourself to care that he was your best friend’s father right now because he was tenting his sweatpants and your mouth was watering at the sight.

“please…” you paw at his waistband, pulling on the drawstrings. toji laughs at your desperation, voice growing gruff.

he buries a hand in your hair, fingers closing around your locks tightly and making your eyes sting with tears. slowly, he pushes your face into his crotch, so close that you can feel it pulsing, can feel every ridge, can feel that he’s not wearing any underwear.

god, you can smell him, and it makes your head spin, your mouth huffing out hot breaths and wetting the front of his pants.

you hook your fingers in the back of his sweats and pull until they’re down tight around his thighs. you have to maneuver the fabric over the head of his erection, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.

his dick springs up, slapping you in the face and leaving a smear of pre across the bridge of your nose. you think toji snorts at that but you can’t be sure. you’re too mesmerized.

he’s so, so big, the skin darker and flushed, tight, heavy balls and the head, angry red, peeking out from the foreskin.

your throat goes dry at the thought of it inside of you, inside any of your holes, because you know it’ll destroy you forever. and you want it.

toji doesn’t have the appeal that most men his age do to most girls your age. he doesn’t make you feel safe, he doesn’t offer financial support, he doesn’t care about your well-being, he doesn’t have his shit together. and to make matters worse to you, he’s your best friend’s dad, who your best friend doesn’t even like that much, whose presence has been totally indifferent to megumi for most of his life.

it makes you burn in shame to know you’re about to have a man 25 years your senior in your mouth.

you readjust your position on the couch so that you’re sitting on your knees, angling your face with his cock. it’s curved, pointing up, and you wonder how much of it he’s gonna wanna stuff down your throat. judging by the pure evil glinting in his eyes, it’s gonna be as much as possible.

you take a deep breath, steadying a hand around his length. it’s concerning that you can just barely close your fingers around him, but you put that thought aside to focus on pulling the skin down gently so you can wrap your lips around the tip.

toji sighs in relief, his grip in your hair tightening.

you begin to work your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock to gather up saliva.

“thaaat’s it, what a good little bitch. got a sweet little mouth on ya,” he whispers, hips thrusting slightly to work his cock further into your mouth. “yer gonna take all of it? or are ya all talk?”

you whine, gripping the base and sliding further down his length. he’s already hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your stomach seize. you pick up the pace, twisting your wrist rhythmically as you suck him.

“don’t swallow,” he threatens, forcing his cock deeper into you, the head sliding into the opening of your throat. “lemme see how messy this slutty face can get.”

you choke audibly, eyes smarting with tears, makeup smudging. you look up at him with furrowed brows in a silent plea of mercy.

toji’s having none of it.

he puts one foot down on the sofa, next to your legs, giving himself the leverage to start fully fucking your face now. he wraps both hands around your throat and thrusts his hips violently into your mouth, his thumbs pressing down to feel his length in your throat.

“ahh, fuck,” he throws his head back, reveling in your desperate gurgles. you feel like a fucking ragdoll, like a fleshlight, unable to control the noises you make or how much dick you take. “takin’ me so well. who taught you to squeeze your throat like that, huh? so fuckin’ slutty.”

you sob around his cock, nose buried in his pubes. he’s impossibly hard, impossibly wet as thick strings of spit and pre hang from your lips, dripping down to his balls, falling to the floor.

toji keeps fucking your throat relentlessly, granting you mere seconds between thrusts to inhale a desperate breath that immediately starts to burn in your lungs.

he’s a fucking sight though, above you. chin tucked into his chest, veins bulging and biceps flexed, nostrils flared as he watches you devour him.

he pulls out suddenly, leaving you choking for air. tears stream down your face, spit bubbling out of your nostril. you look all wrong, like you’d been put back together by someone after being utterly demolished.

“open your mouth,” toji orders. you obey and he grabs his cock, slapping the head against your tongue a few times. he slides his length in and out for a bit before he starts jerking himself off. “suck my balls.”

you take that moment to swallow down the saliva that had pooled between your teeth, tucking away the wet strands of hair that frame your face.

toji’s lifting his cock towards his belly, fisting the head and flicking his wrist. he looks at you expectantly, and you understand it’s time to prove yourself once again.

you place a gente thumb right below his shaft, where his sack hangs. your tongue dips in between his balls, shyly at first, just slightly tracing the shape of them before you pop one into your mouth.

toji groans, the hand on his cock gaining speed. you squeeze your thighs together; you’re so wet that it makes you uncomfortable. you lean forward on your knees, steadying yourself with your palms planted firmly on his thighs.

you’re sucking his balls earnestly now , one then the other, then both at the same time, angling your head up and working your tongue up and down the wrinkled skin.

toji’s loving it, maybe more than the blowjob, and it makes you feel like a toy all over again, in an even more humiliating way because now you’re not even allowed to touch his cock, he’s just getting to use your mouth anywhere he wants.

it’s so fucking hot that it makes you dizzy. you hollow your cheeks, giving his nutsack a good suck before gingerly lifting his balls. you sneak a glance up at toji, hoping to catch him by surprise when your tongue dips even lower, approaching some pretty controversial territory.

it works. his breath catches in his throat and his knee kicks out instinctively.

he grabs your hair immediately, pulling you away from him.

“fuck,” you look up at him smirking, lips smeared with saliva and snort. but you don’t even care how debauched you look right now, as long as you can keep the upper hand. “you’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t ya?”

he leans down to kiss you deeply, messily, inhaling loudly through his nose. toji finishes stepping out of his sweatpants and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing what you’d been imagining for so many years.

you run your hands over his chest, his abs, down his hips, his v-line. he’s so fucking hot, got bulging muscles you didn’t even know existed in the human body, and scars you can’t even fathom the origin of.

he stares at you, looking bored. “get up.”

you do, legs shaking and prickling with pins and needles. now you can fully feel the scope of your arousal, how your panties stick to your core uncomfortably, how the wet tops of your thighs rub together.

toji sits down on the sofa and you waste no time getting on his lap, clawing at his chest and leaning in for another kiss. he’s unforgiving even like this, so much bigger than you, his hand on the back of your neck and his mouth on yours.

“arms up,” and when you comply, he’s pulling your tank top off. “good girl.”

you shiver, instinctively wrapping an arm around yourself. toji tsks at that, easily taking both your wrists in one hand and pinning them behind your back. he grabs your tit with the other, popping as much of it as he can in his mouth.

you groan, fighting against his grip to get your hands on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere. toji relentlessly sucks on your nipple, nibbling and circling it with his tongue.

when he pulls off, he lands a swift slap across your boob, ripping a groan from you.

“such a good fuckin’ slut, look at that body.”

he slaps your ass, this time, tugging your shorts over your butt. you help him get it off of you and then, finally, you’re straddling toji’s cock, no layers in between you two, just your dripping core on him.

you think, belatedly, condom, but then toji is pulling you in for another kiss and for all you know megumi could come home any minute and you wouldn’t want to waste time like that. or so you tell yourself.

his hands guide your hips to grind over him, soft mewls coming out of you and being buried into the crook of his neck.

“pretty little girl, gonna ride me? hmm? gonna ride this old man’s cock?” you whine, nodding.

you press your front against his so you can lift your ass up and guide the tip into your entrance. you don’t expect to be able to take it all, but at least like this you can control the pace and how much of it is going into you, the only thing keeping you from panicking at the sheer size of him.

the head of toji’s cock doesn’t slip inside so much as it pops inside, the ridge locking just past your opening.

it’s too big, and even though you’re soaking wet, it’s still a stretch. you both groan in unison and you realize, this is it. this is your fantasy, you’re fucking toji fushiguro, megumi’s dad, your best friend’s dad.

your legs tremble as you hold yourself up, too soon to sink down more on his cock. toji’s playing with your nipples but you have a sneaking suspicion his patience isn’t going to last much longer.

you give it a valiant effort to take more in and it feels like being ripped in two. you clench your jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple.

“fuuuuck, so fuckin’ tight,” toji spreads your ass cheeks with both hands, rubbing the thin skin where you two are connected. he thrusts up, feeding your poor pussy more of his cock, and you let out a scream. “take it, c’mon.”

“unghh—can’t, toji, hang on—“

“‘course ya can,” he fucks up into you again and you sob, nails raking down his chest. he hisses and slaps your ass in punishment. you realize you might really cry.

“i can’t, it’s too big, too much—“

“shhh,” in an uncharacteristic display of affection, toji kisses the furrow between your brows, snaking a thumb between you two to rub your clit.

you throw your head back, body torn between seeking more pleasure and running from the pain. you can hear how wet you are as toji fucks in and out of you, your plush walls hugging him so well, weeping around him.

he speeds up and you bury your face in his chest, moaning wantonly into his skin. toji lets out staccato grunts, working his cock further into you with each thrust.

“any scrubs your age givin’ it to you like this?” he breathes out, grabbing your ass hard and moving it up and down his length for you. you whine, drooling on him. “yeah, that’s right. fuck, take it, that’s a good girl.”

“ahh, toji—“

“that’s not my name, whore,” he fists your hair and drags your head back until your eyes meet. “try again.”

“fushiguro-san—“ that earns you a hard slap on your ass. you yelp — wrong answer.

“toji-sama—“ another slap, and this time he grips the reddening flesh viciously. you whine, squirming in his grip.

“little braindead cumslut,” he wipes a tear with his thumb. “who’s fucking this tight pussy right now? huh? tell me who's ruining this slutty cunt.”

“d—daddy?”

toji smiles, humming, his grip on you softening as he leans in for a kiss. “that’s right, sweetheart. show daddy how much you want it.”

it’s amusing to toji, you know it. he just wants to humiliate you because he’s aware of how badly you’ve wanted this. but it does something to you, it’s serious to you, it’s so fucking depraved and sexy to you.

he lifts you up with ease and lays you back down on the couch. you feel so empty suddenly that it makes you want to cry, like toji has already carved a home inside of you for his cock that no one else will ever be able to fill.

he wastes no time getting on top of you, hooking a hand under your leg and lifting it up onto his shoulder. your eyes widen immediately, a protest dying in your tongue. this position… his cock… it’s, god, it’s gonna be—

toji plunges in in one violent, perfunctory thrust. you let out a scream, your heel kicking toji square in the back as your body rises up from the couch. he’s all the way inside now.

you can feel him bruising your cervix, his balls, wet with a mixture of the two of you, slapping against your ass, his hip bones drilling into you.

“you’re so deep,” you look at him with panic in your eyes, chest gone cold at the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re so deep.”

toji laughs, pulling out to spit on his cock. he grabs your ankle and sets it on his shoulder. “yeah, baby, daddy’s all the way inside now. feels good, doesn’t it?”

“fuck. oh fuck,” you let out shaky breaths, allowing toji to lay more of his weight on top of you. your knee is by your head now and somehow in this position his cock seems to hit even deeper, to curve up exactly in the right spots that have you struggling to breathe. “you’re gonna break me.”

“takin’ me so well. just a natural slut aren’t ya,” he’s fucking you so fast now, wet, slapping sounds resounding across the whole house.

there’s a thick creamy ring at the base of his cock, frothy and bubbly with how much you’ve been gushing for him. toji presses a thumb against your clit and rubs tight little circles, making you squeeze against him like a vice.

he grunts, speeding up his movements.

“so sensitive, this cute little pussy. you a virgin?” he slaps it a few times, your wetness sticking to his fingers with every pat. “gonna cum soon, whore?”

you whine, nodding. you wrap both arms around toji’s neck and pull him closer, open mouth awaiting expectantly.

toji grins, spitting onto your tongue before leaning in to suck it.

“toj—daddy,” you moan against his mouth, “daddy, i’m close.”

you don’t recognize your own voice. it’s slutty, desperate, pitchy, juvenile. it's too far gone.

toji works your clit over and over again, fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked. he splays a hand over your stomach, kneading the place where his cock is nestled inside of you and hitting a spot that makes you lose control of your body and words.

“ah, ah, ah, oh god toji fuck daddy make me cum, please please can i cum—“

“oh, fuck,” his thrusts start to become erratic and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, one leg wrapping around his hips to make sure he stays inside until you're done. “cum on daddy’s cock, come on. make a mess, little girl.”

you throw your head back, burying it into the pillows as your entire body thrashes with your orgasm. you clamp around him so hard that you can't even tell where he ends and you begin.

toji takes no mercy on you, his messy cock plunging in and out of you fast.

“gonna fill up this pretty pussy, yeah?” you shake your head desperately, one hand punching his chest. he can’t finish inside of you, right? but why do you want it so bad? “no no no, don’t fuss now baby. you want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you? wanna give megumi a baby brother? fuck yeah i know you do fuckin' take it whore fuuuuck, fuck i'm coming—”

he thrusts once, twice, three more times, knocking all air out of your lungs and the most ridiculous moans out of your mouth before he’s spilling into you, locking your legs like a fucking pretzel and biting down your neck.

you can feel it pulsing, spurting inside of you. you can feel both your heartbeats in your abused cunt, both of your juices combined and oozing out of you.

once you catch your breath, toji pulls out of you languidly, with a yawn. you two made a fucking mess, a sticky puddle on the couch right below your ass.

toji eyes it disinterestedly, much like how he’s eyeing you right now. your sweaty, messy, fucked out self, nearly melting on the fushiguro household’s sofa.

“ah. are ya on the pill or what?” he asks, like he just now remembered. after a few seconds you nod, a little incredulous. “heh. good.”

you slowly sit up, reaching for your sweatshirt to at least cover yourself up. you sneak a hand down to your cunt, fingers sliding through the mess there to dip inside you.

fuck, you’re gaping. toji well and truly ruined your pussy. it makes you panic a little bit, but it also makes pride swell within your chest, knowing you took it, all of it.

toji finally addresses you.

“i’m gonna go take a shower,” he looks behind his shoulder, sighing. he points at you. “we left the fuckin’ tv on. if this shit racks up my bills you’re gonna have to pay me back.”

you guffaw. “me? pay you how?”

he smirks.

“got one more hole i haven’t wrecked yet, dont’cha?” he flicks your forehead. you just sit there, incredulous, trembling legs, halfway to horny again. from the bathroom, toji calls out, “let yourself out. oh, and leave the vodka.”

A/N: lmfao! i got nothin to say in my defense. reblogs r very much appreciated

#✩.toji #✩.kinktober #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk kinktober #✩.tw daddy kink #✩.tw age gap #toji zenin #toji reader smut #✩.petra.doc #toji fushiguro x female reader #toji x female reader

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sturnsdarling · 14 days

Text

'Chris likes girls who don't like him back'

Late night streaming with your best friends turns to a conversation about the boys' type, and Chris gets called out

vibe check: flirty fluffy fun, 3/4 of my favourite f words

1.4k words

A/N: i had this idea literally straight away after what Matt said about Chris' type.........the idea of being Chris' best friend that he openly fancies but you're 'not interested' makes MY TOES CURL BRO LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING anyway I hope you love this.

love and cigs, merc

"Matt he's right there what the fuck are you doing?!" you scream down the mic, nearly throwing your controller across the room as you jolt back in your chair.

You watch as Matt gets sniped in the head from the back, laughing as he wails on this desk, making the whole stream glitch and nearly crash. Chris is laughing along with you, trying not to make it obvious that he's watching you, and not Matt.

"Matt, bro you need to fuckin' up your game, y/n/n is actually carrying us right now." Chris says as Matt picks his chair up off the floor and sits back down in a huff.

"I always carry when I come on with you boys" you smirk, looking at the tiny square of Chris on your screen.

"yeah because you're a little sweat" Matt chuckles.

The boys had been streaming everyday for over a week now and, after some convincing, they managed to get you to join in on one of their games. At first you were apprehensive, obviously, but they explained that they were trying to diversify their platform and find a more mature audience so, actually interacting with girls on the internet was their first step.

You and the boys had been friends for forever, you met them through Nick in elementary school and had basically all been inseparable ever since, you'd been in some earlier videos but the fans back then made it very difficult to just exist around them so, you took it upon yourself to only exist in their real life, not their online one.

Cut to right now, you're nearly two hours deep in fortnite trios with the boys on stream, everyone was super excited to see you when they announced that they'd be joining and, other than a couple comments that you all ignored, it was going really well.

"Matt, someone asked what our types are" Chris laughed, reading the chat.

"I'm not answering that" Matt dead panned, screwing his face up at the camera

"I can answer it for you both, for sure" you chuckle, "chat do you want me to answer it?"

"yes, yes, yes, yes, omg yes" Chris was reeling off the answers in chat, "everyone wants y/n/n to answer, Matt should we let her?" Chris asked.

Matt rolled his eyes with a smile, "g'head, y/n/n, expose us" He chuckled.

"okay, so" you said, in your best girly gossip voice, "Matt likes nerdy, reader, soft girls" you begin to explain, your train of thought is interrupted by Chris erupting into laughter.

"dude she's so right! you love a girl that looks like she's always buried in a book" Chris wails.

"what are you guys even saying?" Matt complains, the smile etched across his face giving his tone a lot less power.

"you definitely want a girl who will go on a hike with you or some shit, Matt" You say, enjoying this whole interaction a bit too much.

Chris was keeled over in laughter, loving finally being able to talk about this kind of stuff on the internet without everyone going insane.

"I dunno why you're laughing so much, Chris, you're next" Matt states, Chris shrugs in reply.

"i don't give a fuck, call me out y/n/n, gimme the best you got" Chris sits back in his chair, arms folded over his chest.

"hmmmm" you say, exaggerating your thinking, "what is the famous Christopher Sturniolos type" you rub your chin, pretending to be thinking deeply.

A knowing smirk is spread wide across Chris' face as he stares at your face on his screen, tongue prodding the side of his cheek.

"I know Chris' type" Matt adds, a menacing smile on his face.

"g'head matt, you take this one" you gesture to the boy on your screen.

"Chris likes girls who don't like him back" Matts brows raise in accusation towards Chris.

You try and hide the smile forming on your face, attempting to look as focused on the game as possible as your tongue prods at your teeth. Neither of the boys say anything, both of them cheesing, Matt in a teasing and knowing kind of way and Chris more so in a 'I cant say what I wanna say' kind of way.

"damn, Matt, you just called me the fuck out" Chris shakes his head, looking to the tiny version of you on his screen.

You're still quiet, trying to fight the smile on your face and look as focused as possible, you catch Chris looking as if he's looking at you on his screen and shake your head with a chuckle.

"what you grinnin' at, kid?" Chris smirks.

You raise your brows, shaking your head with a downwards smile, "no, nothin', nothin" you say, returning your focus back to the game.

All of the viewers watched the interaction and were blowing up the chat with comments about how Chris definitely likes you, saying things like 'did you guys see that?!', and 'think they're slick look at how they're both smiling!!!!!'. Chris was reading the comments and trying to hide the red blush crawling its way onto his cheeks, Matt was relishing in the fact that Chris was so obviously nervous, and you were just trying not to react.

"Chris, dude, you better wipe that smile off your face, chat's onto you" Matt pokes the bear.

"chat ain't onto shit, Matt, shut the fuck up" Chris says, trying to be serious but unable to push his smile down.

"you know i'm right though, you do like girls who don't want you" Matt pushed on with his joke.

"Matt, shut your fuckin' mouth, dude" Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head, his smile still prevalent.

You couldn't help but laugh, still pretending to not care about the situation unfolding. In hindsight, it probably made it all the more obvious that you knew exactly what Matt was referring to.

"you're awful quiet, y/n/n, you got nothing to say on Chris' type?" Matt extends his joke over to you and your attention is immediately on him.

"nah, you hit the nail on the head, I think" you shrug, stretching back in your chair and adjusting your headset.

"oh really?" Chris replies, brows raised in accusation.

"mhm" you nod, faux innocently.

Chris kisses his teeth, nodding and trying to hide the smile on his face once again.

"yeah, chat, Matts right, I like pretty girls, who don't like me back" Chris says, subtly turning his attention to you and then back to chat.

You roll your eyes with a smile, leaning forward once more to lock into the game.

"you're ridiculous, Chris" Matt chuckles into the mic, watching you shift in your seat, trying not to blush.

The rest of the game went off without a hitch, you guys went on to win multiple times and all the viewers eventually stopped trying to get the conversation back to Chris' obvious crush on you. You played until the early hours of the morning, joking and laughing with the boys' just like old times and relishing in the fact that you were finally able to be a part of their online presence again. When it hit around three a.m you told them you had to sign off, explaining that you had to be up early for college that morning.

"guys, I gotta go, but I'll text you when I wake up" you said, pulling off your headset, and brushing your hair back with your hand.

"alright, y/n/n, thanks for helping us bury kids, its always a treat" Matt grinned at you, shooting you his token boyish smile.

"you know I live to humble kids on fort, Matt" You shrugged, putting on your best boyish persona, earning a laugh from Matt

"okay seriously, I gotta go, bye chat!" you smile, "bye boys" you go to switch off your computer but you're stopped by Chris booming voice.

"bye, beautiful" he says, a cheesy grin on his face.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as an uncontrollable smile finds your lips, "bye, Chris" you reply, switching off your computer.

The whole chat erupts with people losing their minds over Chris calling you beautiful, the boys say nothing, Matt just shakes his head, laughing at the chat as he watches Chris, grinning with pride and completely unashamed of his very obvious crush on you.

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