#who can watch this and think they are straight

[ckret2]

I might tweak some details later (jewelry? take the ribbon off the bow?) but I've about got a Scalene design I like. The lipstick is really the centerpiece of the design. Now let's infodump! With more art!

🔺 Notice her lines are a a little curvy. It's not for artistic effect. She's got a Fictional Polygon Physical Disorder that makes her bendier than she should be—meaning, among other things, sides that curve and flex.

🔺 It's also the kind of condition with symptoms that are romanticized by people who don't grok that it's a debilitating medical condition. Sides that curve and flex? How exotic! This went to her head in the wrong ways.

🔺 Bill was born with the same condition. You know how squishy and blobby he was as a baby? Thaaat's genetic! He was a lot squishier than most babies! And, consequently, more adorable.

🔺Scalene dreamed of being a famous super model. Was actually a teen beauty queen at mid-tier beauty pageants. She thinks it's always somebody else's fault she wasn't more successful.

🔺 She took Bill to his first baby beauty pageant the day he was born. He did, in fact, have a Best Baby Ever award presented to him by the mayor, but to be fair he was only competing against like 6 other babies and who's going to withhold a trophy from a newborn on his birthday? Anyway the 6-12 month group and 12-24 month groups also each had a Best Baby Ever award.

🔺 This was an absolutely bonkers thing for Scalene to do.

🔺 What's that small scrunkly thing doing at a pageant, he can't even see color yet.

🔺 Their fictional squishy medical condition doesn't just accidentally make shapes cute. It's the kind of condition that affects just about all parts of the body: sides won't stay straight, poor muscle tone resulting in instability & weakness, poor motor coordination & clumsiness, back aches & pains (well, triangles don't have "backs." side aches?), easily dislocated joints, and increasingly skewed sides with age. Just about everyone in Scalene's family is born equilateral and ends up extremely scalene after young adulthood. The rest of her family have normal relationships with their condition, she's the only one who's weird about it

🔺 She was very rough on her body in pursuit of pageantry success, but her physical symptoms & associated chronic pain got a lot worse due to having a kid; she had to retire from pageantry for good. She doesn't blame Bill for this at all. Out loud, to his face. (If she hadn't been so rough on herself in pageants, having a kid probably wouldn't have impacted her health this much. She doesn't consider this.)

🔺 She's weirdly intent on seeing Bill become the success she wasn't. He's her little golden child, he deserves to be seen as the greatest! He'll show them how great he is for mommy, won't he? He won't let mommy down, will he? When he's very young, she takes him to child pageants—he'll appreciate the lessons they taught him when he's older—and this lasts until he finds out he can get out of it by pyrokinetically setting the stage on fire.

🔺 She jokes ("jokes") that she didn't realize that when she was having a kid, she was firing herself from the pageant circuit so she could hire & train her own replacement. These jokes had no long-term impact on Bill at all!!!

(Compare/contrast: how we're told Stan's "You watch the movie, you scare the girl, the girl snuggles up next to you, next thing you know you gotta raise a kid, your life falls apart" is repeating something he heard his dad say.)

🔺 Did you know that squeaky baby shoes are sometimes medical devices? Squeakers help children with poor muscle tone and delayed motor skills learn how to walk correctly: it makes them want to walk on their heels instead of their toes so they can hear the squeak. Did you know sometimes oversized squeaky baby shoes are worn by young kids who need ankle braces? Did you know that kids with poor motor coordination can take a longer time to learn complicated motor skills like tying shoelaces rather than using shoes with velcro straps? It sure is interesting that baby Bill's most defining visual feature is oversized squeaky sneakers with velcro straps and that he kept wearing velcro shoes until he was 16!

🔺 As a baby, Bill's angles were technically supposed to be equilateral,* but thanks to his inherited condition, his angles were so loose his top corner practically formed a right angle. Not good: the closer a triangle creeps to being obtuse, the more likely he'll have muscle strain and medical issues from his organs being squished out of place by his own exoskeleton.

(*supposed to be equilateral: but after receiving treatment, they discovered his angles were still 60º, 60º, and 60.1º, which is mathematically impossible for a triangle... on a euclidean plane. But on a non-euclidean 3D plane, such as in spherical geometry, a triangle's angles can add up to more than 180º... and it's this slight 3D flex to Bill's body that lets him see up into the third dimension.)

🔺 For his first few years of life he actually had a hypotenuse, until physical therapy and side braces helped him improve his muscle tone. Sometimes he still reflexively refers to his base as his hypotenuse. It's fine, sweetie, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, mommy had a hypotenuse too. Don't tell anyone.

🔺 Scalene took baby Billy to a lot of doctors as a kid, just like how she was taken to a lot of doctors! Doctor for his side braces, doctor for his physical therapy, doctor for his shoes... doctor for his eye when he started talking about seeing white glitter at the edge of his vision. Scalene didn't have that symptom, but the eye doc said their condition does occasionally come with visual problems—blurred vision, lazy eye, visual field defects... It sounds like Bill's main field of vision is unobstructed, but if the visual snow he's getting in his peripheral vision is distracting him and confusing his little toddler mind into thinking it's something real, they can give him a medication that'll narrow his field of view. From the sound of it, he's not seeing anything important at the edge of his vision, anyway.

And she only wants what's best for her golden child.

🔺 Scalene's "bow" is actually a medical device: sort of like a medical corset, it helps tug and press her anatomy into place to reduce pain. Bill started wearing one preventatively—if he can keep everything in place when he's young, it'll take longer for his angles to skew when he's older. Like wearing a retainer when you get your braces out.

🔺 He has a cane for the same reason—he doesn't need it NOW when he's young, but he might as well keep it on hand, by age 35 he'll probably want to stand more often than float and when he's standing he'll probably want the extra support! Even if he doesn't need it by 35, he will eventually!!

🔺 Bill doesn't medically need a bow tie in the third dimension either; but he adapted it to help tie his 3D exoskeleton on.

🔺 A trillion years later, Bill suspects that his mutation to see the third dimension came, at least in part, from his mom's medical condition. Except, she didn't have that vision. Nobody else with the condition on her side of the family had that vision. It's not a known symptom of the condition. His dad had stuff going on with his eye too, did he get it from his dad's side? A mix of both? Just a standalone random mutation? He doesn't know; and with the rest of his species dead, there's no way for him to find out.

But back to Scalene!

🔺 She's not quite red, she's rose gold. However she doesn't like it. She thinks it's a sort of pinkish brown and very dull. She uses makeup to make herself look redder. Note how bright red her sides are: in a species where only your edges are visible, body paint is the most common form of makeup+fashion. She's pleased her baby came out gold-gold, it's much cuter. Bill knows she's rose gold, but he only saw her with her makeup off when she was tired or sick; he remembers her painted red.

🔺 She adores her Billy; but she somewhat sees him as an extension of her will. She thinks he's just perfect and will tell anyone who asks; but she also demands he be perfect and is furious when he isn't. She'll protect him from ANY perceived external threat; but she'll tough love him into being the kind of success she thinks he should be. He learns early that when he screws up, he can often redirect his mother's anger by pointing his finger and saying it's someone else's fault, and she'll bring the wrath of heaven down on them. Woe to the teacher who gives Bill an F on a test.

🔺 I'm on a quest to write Bill as a foil to the entire cast of Gravity Falls, and that extends to writing his family as a foil to the entire cast's families. Scalene's a blend of Pacifica's mom and Caryn: beautiful, proud of her beauty, afraid of losing her youth, self-aggrandizing, quick to lie about her & her family's (false/exaggerated) accomplishments—and very aware of the fact that you can say anything about woo-woo mystical matters and nobody can prove you wrong.

🔺 So she takes it great when they figure out Bill is, like, legit psychic. And by "takes it great" I mean "starts a cult."

There's what I've got on Scalene. Fortunately, I got to keep all my pre-TBOB headcanons about Bill's mom, I only had to change her shape & color. I already had medical trauma baked right into the family!

(Preemptive disclaimer before I get any "but she doesn't look 2D" comments: we all understand that the baby Bill picture we see in the book is a psychically-generated 3D approximation of Bill's 2D Euclidean form, right? And that drawing a 3D baby Bill design alongside rigidly 2D parent designs would make it look like even in the second dimension Bill already had a 3D body, right? So, if we're drawing a 3D baby Bill and want to convey that they looked similar to him, we have to draw his parents in a similar art style, right? Okay, great.)

[itneverendshere]

the first relapse being the most scariest thing you’ve seen. sarah’s even calling you about him like “dads trying to get his doctor on the line just in case he od’s”

added this to what i'd already summarized in this ask!! hope everyone enjoys the angst 😔🫂 it’s a little long (around 7.1k)

death by a thousand cuts - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: substance abuse.

Ward’s sitting at the dining table, barely glancing up from his phone when Rafe walks in. His jaw clenches. That look—so cold, so dismissive—always sets something off in him.

“What’s wrong?” Rafe asks, already knowing this isn’t just a normal night.

Ward doesn’t answer right away, just sighs like Rafe being here is another weight on his shoulders. “Your mother called today.”

Rafe freezes.

He doesn’t have to ask which mother. Ward’s new wife has nothing to do with this. His real mom. The one who left.

He tries to stay calm, but he can feel his blood pumping, “What’d she want?”

“She says she wants to see you. You and your sisters.”

Rafe’s eyes narrow, his heart pounding harder now. The audacity of it. She always did this—popped back in when it was convenient for her, like they were just part of her life she could pick up and drop whenever she felt like it.

When was the last time? A couple of years? Before that? It doesn’t matter.

“No. I’m not doing this again.” 

“Rafe—”

“No, I said no.” The anger wells up fast, a familiar burn in his chest. He stands there, fists clenched. “She’s full of shit, dad. She doesn't give a fuck about us. So, no. I’m not seeing her.”

Ward looks up, calm as ever, but there's that edge in his eyes—the one that always makes Rafe feel like a little kid who’s stepped out of line. “You’re overreacting. She’s still your mother.”

“My mother?” He lets out a bitter laugh, but there’s no humor in it. His fists tighten at his sides. “She left. She fucking left us. She’s not my mother. She’s just some lady who couldn’t handle shit.”

Ward stands up now. “Watch your mouth.”

“Watch my mouth?” Rafe barks back, stepping forward, his anger boiling over. “I watched her leave me every time she got bored or freaked out. And you—you didn’t do shit!.You just let it happen. Let her walk out over and over.”

“That’s enough, Rafe.”

But he's not done.

He’s too pissed to think straight. “What? You gonna defend her? You’re the one who let her fuck me up like this! You—”

“Stop blaming everyone else for your problems,” Ward snaps, his voice rising. "Grow up. She left.  And you’re still standing here acting like a child over it.”

Something inside Rafe cracks. His chest tightens like someone’s squeezing the air out of him. "A child? You don't get it. You never got it. She fucked me up. She fucked all of us up, and you're still acting like it's nothing." His mind is spinning, flashing back to all those nights he was too high to breathe, too strung out to care if he woke up the next day. He feels like he’s suffocating, the anger burning too fast. “I’m not doing this again, dad. I’m not.”

Ward’s gaze turns cold. “She’s trying now. That has to count for something.”

“Trying? Trying?!” Rafe grits out, stepping forward. All those years, all those broken promises, all the times he was left wondering what the hell he did wrong to make her leave—and now Ward wants him to sit down like it’s a fucking family reunion. 

“I don’t care what you think about it, Rafe. This isn’t up for discussion. You will see her, and that’s final.”

“No. No fucking way!” He shouts, his voice shaking as he steps closer to Ward, fists clenched. “You can’t make me do this. I’m not going to sit there and pretend like everything’s okay when she’s the reason I turned into the mess I was. And you—” His chest heaves as he fights to find the words, his throat tight. “You’re just as bad as she is.”

Ward’s eyes narrow dangerously, but he continues, “Every time she left, you didn’t do a goddamn thing. You let her walk all over us. You let her leave me, leave us, and you never said a word. You’re a shitty father, just as bad as her."

Ward’s face darkens, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”

“I’ll talk to you however the hell I want,” Rafe fires back, stepping even closer, eyes blazing. “You didn’t stop her. You never protected me. You sat there and watched her fuck me up and then turned around and blamed me for it. Like I was the problem.”

“You were the problem,” Ward snaps, “She didn’t know how to handle you, and neither did I. You were a fucking disaster, Rafe. And that’s on you.”

“No. You two were and are the fucking problem because you can’t let go of her.”

Ward takes a step forward, “This isn’t about you. It’s about your sisters. Sarah wants this. Weezie deserves a chance to know her mother. It’s not all about your issues, Rafe. Grow up.”

“Grow up?” He feels like he’s suffocating, “You think I’m the one who needs to grow up? 

“Enough. You will meet her, or you can leave this house right now.”

All the work he's put in, all the shit he's tried to fix, feels like it’s slipping right through his fingers. He can’t be here. Not like this. He’s out the door before he even knows what he’s doing. That itch beneath his skin is back after years, that’s how much control his parents have over him.

Rafe’s hands are still shaking as he gets into his truck, slamming the door harder than he means to. It feels like he can’t get enough air in his lungs, and his thoughts are spinning, they’re all crashing into each other at once. The fight with his father keeps replaying in his head, louder and louder, until he can’t hear anything else.

He’s gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. His dad’s voice, cold and cutting, telling him he’s the problem. That he’s always been the problem. His hands are shaking worse now, trembling like he’s about to snap, and there’s only one thought pounding through his mind: He can’t go to you like this.

The thought of walking through your door, this messed up, makes him feel sick. You’ve seen him at his worst before, but this… this feels different. He can’t let you see him like this—not the old Rafe. Not the one who almost lost everything.

You don’t need to see that. You don’t deserve it.

He knows where he can go instead. Somewhere he shouldn’t, somewhere he swore he’d never go again. But right now, it feels like the only place that makes sense. His head’s spinning, his body buzzing with leftover adrenaline and anger, and he just needs it to stop.

So, he turns the key in the ignition and drives. It doesn’t take long to get to Barry’s. He knows the back roads by heart, even though it’s been years. He pulls up to the small shack Barry calls home, the lights still on, music thumping faintly from inside. It’s like nothing’s changed. The same rundown place, the same shitty cars parked out front, the same smell of smoke and spilled liquor lingering in the air.

Rafe sits there for a minute, gripping the steering wheel, breathing heavy. He shouldn’t be here. He knows that. 

He climbs out of the truck, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking, and heads toward the door. The second he steps inside, the familiar smell of stale beer and weed hits him like a wave, bringing back memories he thought he’d buried.

Barry’s lounging on the couch, a joint hanging from his mouth, lazily flipping through channels on the TV.

“Country Club!”, Barry drawls when he notices him, smirking around the joint. “Now this is a surprise. Didn’t think I’d ever see you walk through that door again. Thought you were all clean now, with your pretty little girlfriend.”

He tenses at the mention of you. But he can’t walk out now. Not after what just happened with Ward. Not when everything inside him feels like it’s about to blow.

“I just need something,” Rafe mutters, avoiding Barry’s eyes, already regretting this but not enough to stop.

Barry raises an eyebrow, amused. “Something, huh? You know, you’ve got a real habit of showing up here when you’re all fucked up.” He laughs, low and mocking. “What’s the matter this time? Daddy issues again?”

His jaw tightens. “Just give me what I want.”

Barry leans back, flicking ash onto the floor. “You sure you wanna go down that road again, man? Thought you were past this shit.”

“I don’t care,” Rafe snaps, his voice low, shaking with frustration and something darker. “You know what I want. Go get it.”

There’s a pause, and for a second, Barry just looks at him, sizing him up. Then, with a shrug, he gets up, disappearing into the back room. Rafe waits, heart pounding in his ears, staring at the floor, trying not to think about what he’s doing. About what this means.

Barry comes back a minute later, a small bag of coke in his hand. He tosses it onto the table in front of Rafe, “Knock yourself out.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the bag, his fingers already moving on autopilot as he pulls out his wallet and shoves a roll of cash toward Barry. He knows this is stupid, reckless. He knows this is going to hurt you, more than anything else. But ll he wants is to forget. Just for a little while.

His hands stop shaking the second he takes that first line.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀

You’re already drained when you step through the front door of the house, kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag onto the couch. The sticky summer air is clinging to your skin, and all you want is a cold shower and to crash in bed. 

The day’s been dragging—work was a shitshow, and all you’ve been thinking about is Rafe. You haven’t heard from him since this morning, which isn’t weird, but there’s been this nagging feeling in your chest, like something’s off.

“Hey,” Monica calls from the kitchen as you grab a glass of water and lean against the counter. She’s scrolling through her phone, half-distracted. Milo’s at kindergarten.

“Hey,” you mumble back. “Everything alright?”

She shrugs, not looking up. “Yeah, mostly.” She pauses, frowning slightly, like she’s trying to piece something together. “I think I saw Rafe’s truck earlier. Over by Barry’s place.”

You blink, trying to process what she just said. “Barry’s?”

“Yeah, you know. The guy who used to sell—Whatever.” Monica shrugs again, more casual than you feel. “I was driving back from work, and I swear it was Rafe’s truck parked outside Barry’s house.”

Your stomach drops. Instantly.

“You’re sure?”

“Looked like his truck,” your sister says, “Thought it was weird. Figured maybe he was helping someone out or something.”

But you know better.

A cold sweat breaks out over your skin. You’ve heard Rafe talk about Barry. Back when things were bad—really bad—he was the one who kept him hooked, who kept pulling him deeper. He told you everything about those years when he was drowning in addication and Barry’s name came up more than once.

And if his truck’s outside Barry’s, you know something’s wrong.

It’s like a pit in your stomach, this gnawing feeling that’s been sitting with you all day. 

“What? Why’s that such a big deal?”

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s impossible. “Rafe doesn’t… he doesn’t go there anymore. He hasn’t in years.”

Monica frowns, finally understanding. “Oh. Shit. You think something’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, already pulling out your phone, fingers wobbly as you open your messages. You scroll through the last few texts from Rafe, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Except the silence. He’s usually better at checking in, especially when he knows you’ve had a long day. But today? Nothing.

You stare at your screen, debating if you should call him. But deep down, you already know something’s happened. He wouldn’t go to Barry’s unless things were really bad.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” your sister offers, but her voice is hesitant, like she’s not sure. “Maybe he was just stopping by. It doesn’t mean—”

But she doesn’t finish, and you don’t need her to. You know what it means. You feel it in your bones. He’s back in that dark place—And he didn’t come to you. He went to Barry instead.

Why didn’t he come to you?

“I need to go,” you say, your voice coming out more panicked than you’d like, but you can’t help it. Your heart’s racing, your mind is spinning, and the only thing you can focus on is Rafe. You’re grabbing your keys off the counter before your sister can even answer.

“Wait, what? Where are you going?” Monica asks, a bit alarmed now, but you don’t have time to explain.

“I need to find Rafe.”

Your sister steps forward, “Is it really that serious? I mean, maybe he’s just—”

“He’s not just anything,” you cut her off, shaking your head. “If he’s at Barry’s, it’s bad.”

Rafe had told you everything about his past—every ugly detail about the years he spent losing himself, the drugs, the fights, the constant mess of it all. He had opened up to you after your first time together. And for the past two years you’d seen him, the real Rafe, the one who tried so damn hard to be better.

And now? He’s slipping. And you weren’t there.

Your mind is racing as you drive. You think about how good things have been with him—how far he’s come. He’s not the guy he used to be. He doesn’t party like he used to, doesn’t need to numb everything with lines of coke or bottles of whiskey.

He told you about his time in rehab, how scared he was of becoming that version of himself again. But something must’ve happened.

Something big. 

Why didn’t he tell you?

The thought is suffocating. You know him—he’s reckless and impulsive sometimes, but he’s been so careful with you, always making sure you never had to see the side of him that scared him the most. He’s opened up about his struggles with anxiety, about how he sometimes still smokes weed to take the edge off, but this… this is different. 

This is worse.

It had to be Ward. He’s has always had this chokehold on him, making him feel like he’s never good enough. And whenever his mom gets brought up—whenever she’s even mentioned—it messes with him in ways you can barely understand. She’s the one person who could make him spiral, and Ward is the one person who could push him over that edge.

You slam your fist against the steering wheel, frustrated.

He’s dealing with this alone, and now he’s gone back to Barry. To coke. To everything that almost killed him before. You pull up to his place, your stomach churning. You can see Rafe’s truck parked haphazardly outside, and your heart skips a beat. He’s here.

He’s here, and he didn’t come to you.

You sit there for a moment, gripping the wheel, trying to calm yourself down, trying to figure out what the hell you’re even going to say when you see him.

You get out of the car and practically run toward Barry’s door. You know this place, know the people who come here and what they’re looking for. You’re pretty sure your dad spent half his life here, when Barry’s dad still ran the business. 

You don’t even knock. You push the door open. Barry’s on the couch, looking up lazily when you walk in, and you see Rafe—sitting in the corner, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched.

He looks like a ghost.

Barry snickers from the couch, taking a drag from his joint. “Well, well, look who it is. Didn’t think I’d see the two of you here together.”

“Shut the fuck up, Barry,” you snap, glaring at him before turning your full attention to Rafe. “What are you doing here?”

“W-What?”

“Baby, look at you.”

He tries to stand, his movements slow, like his body isn’t responding the way he wants it to. His eyes are bloodshot, unfocused, his pupils blown wide, and he’s swaying slightly, barely able to keep his balance.

“I just... I needed to clear my head,” he mumbles, the words slurring together. His hand goes to his hair, but it’s shaking, and he can’t even look at you. “It’s not—”

“It’s not what?” You feel your heart breaking with every word, the cracks widening as you take in the mess of him, his clothes disheveled, his face pale, his hands twitching.

He stumbles again, trying to step toward you, but he’s so high he can barely stand. “I didn’t want... I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he rasps out, finally meeting your eyes for just a second before looking away. “Didn’t want you to... think I was still... still that guy.”

“You’re not that guy anymore,” you say softly, even though right now, he looks too much like that guy. “But you’re acting like him.”

His head drops, and he looks down at the floor, his shoulders sagging, defeated. “Didn’t know...what else to do.”

“And you didn’t think to come to me?” Your voice breaks on the last word, “You went to Barry instead of me?”

“Hey now—"

“I told you to shut the fuck up,” You almost scream in Barry's face, your chest rising with each breath you take. Rafe can't stand to look you in the eyes right now. He can't see the disappointment.

“You always know what to do. You call me. You come to me. Why would you run here? Why would you go back to this?” You glance at Barry, who’s watching the whole scene with a smirk on his face like he’s enjoying every second of your heartbreak. “You’re better than this. Get in the car. We can talk about this.”

But he shakes his head, his breath shaky. “Can’t… can’t be with you right now.”

“Why?” 

 “Just… too much. Hurts too much.” He looks down, guilt washing over him. “Didn’t want you to see... this.”

“Then get in the car. We can figure this out together.” Your voice cracks, the hurt pouring out.

He hesitates, shaking his head again. “I… can’t.”

It pushes something inside you.

Maybe you’ll regret it later but now it’s all you can think about. If he doesn’t want your help, he doesn’t want you. And if he doesn’t want you right now he doesn’t deserve to want you when he’s better. 

“You can either get in this car and fight with me, or you can stay here. But if you stay—”

“Y-You’ll leave?” He’s looking at you despite the fog in his brain, not sure if he’s hearing you correctly, “Leave me?”

“I didn’t say that—”

“E-everyon leaves right?"

He’s never said anything like that to you before.

“I’m not leaving you, but if you stay here, with him,” you jerk your head in Barry’s direction, “I can’t help you. I can’t pull you out of this if you don’t want to get out.”

You know you can’t fix this for him. He has to make the choice. His eyes dart toward Barry for a second, and Barry just shrugs, clearly not giving a damn about anything but his next hit. 

“I love you, but I can’t watch you destroy yourself.”

For a second, you think maybe you’ve gotten through to him, because his eyes soften behind all that darkness. But then he shakes his head again, looking at the floor like he’s already made his decision.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mutters, barely audible. “But I don’t know how to stop.”

Your heart breaks a little more at that. “Yes you do, baby. You do. You just need to believe it.”

If he doesn’t come with you, you’re not sure where this ends for him. He’s stuck, frozen in place, trapped by whatever’s going on in his head, and you realize that no matter how much you love him, no matter how much you want to save him, you can’t force him to choose you. You can’t make him get in the car.

“You have to decide,” you say quietly, voice breaking. “Me or this. You can’t have both.”

Rafe looks up at you, eyes glossy, and for a second, you think he might actually say something — something that will make this all okay, something that will bring him back to you. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, torn apart by his demons, his lips pressed into a line. You feel the pit in your stomach grow deeper.

“Okay,” you nod, barely holding back tears. “I guess that’s my answer.”

You turn and walk out the door, your heart shattering with every inch of distance you put between you and him. You don't look back, because if you do, you know you’ll drag him out yourself, and you can’t do that. Not now. But as you get into your car and grip the steering wheel with your entire strength, the sobs come anyway.

You don’t want to leave him. God, you don’t want to. But he didn’t choose you. Not this time.

Rafe doesn’t even register the sound of the door slamming behind you. It’s like he’s watching everything happen from somewhere far away, his body numb, his mind completely blank. You said something, you were upset—he knows that much—but the words never really hit him. They just floated around. He sinks back down into the chair, staring at the floor, heart racing but completely detached. The room is spinning a little, his chest tight, but he can’t feel anything. Can’t let himself feel anything. It’s better this way. Safer.

You left.

He knows that happened, but it doesn’t mean anything right now. He can’t process it. Not in this state. Not when the drugs are still in his system, making everything feel like it’s underwater. He blinks a few times, trying to get his brain to catch up, but it’s not working. It’s just static.

Barry’s voice is somewhere in the background, laughing about something, but he doesn’t hear him either. It’s like the world’s on mute. His body’s still buzzing from the high, fingers twitching, muscles tense, but inside? Inside he’s empty.

Hours pass, maybe. Time doesn’t exist here, not when he’s this far gone. The light changes through the window, but it could be minutes or days for all he knows. He drifts in and out, his head heavy, eyes closing, but sleep never comes. Just darkness. Maybe he did too many lines.

At some point, he wakes up—if you can call it that. His body feels like it weights two hundred pounds, his head is spinning, his mouth dry and sour. He blinks against the light, his vision blurry, trying to figure out where the hell he is. 

It takes a second for everything to catch up. To realize he’s at Barry’s.

And then, it hits him all at once. You.

You were here. You were mad. And then you were gone.

His chest tightens, a sick, sinking feeling crawling up his throat. He sits up too fast, his head swimming. Fuck.He rubs his hands over his face, trying to calm his breathing. His thoughts are still sluggish. You left. You walked out, and he… he didn’t stop you. Didn’t even try.

Why didn’t he stop you?

Before he can think too much about it, Barry saunters in, a smug grin on his face, holding a beer in one hand, a joint in the other. He takes one look at Rafe, slouched and disoriented, and lets out a low, mocking laugh.

“Well, well, well,” Barry drawls, leaning against the doorframe, clearly enjoying every second of this. “Look who’s finally awake. You done fucked it up, Country Club.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything. Can’t.

Barry raises an eyebrow, taking a drag from the joint, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Thought you were smarter than that.”

Rafe just stares at the floor, his stomach twisting. He can’t remember exactly what he said to you. But the look on your face… he can’t forget that. The disappointment. The hurt.

Barry chuckles, settling down on the couch across from him. “What was it? You running your mouth again, or did she just get tired of you being a fuckup?”

The shame is settling in now, creeping up his spine. He doesn’t want to hear this. Doesn’t want to hear anything. But Barry just keeps going, like he’s enjoying watching him fall apart.

“Should’ve seen it coming, man,” Barry continues, “Girl like that? She was bound to leave eventually.”

If he felt strong enough he would’ve punched that joint out of his mouth, his teeth following next. Who the fuck did he think he was to talk about you like he knew you.

He knows Barry’s just trying to get under his skin, but it’s working. He feels sick. He presses his hands against his eyes, trying to push it all away, but it’s no use.

“You done fucked it up, Country Club,” Barry repeats, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “And now you’re right back here. Same old Rafe.”

Same old Rafe. He told himself he’d never end up here again. He swore he was done with this. Done with Barry, done with the drugs, done with the guy he used to be.

But now? Now he’s right back where he started. And the worst part? He let you see it. He doesn’t know how to fix this. Doesn’t know if he even can fix this. But the one thing he does know? He should’ve crawled after you.

Rafe doesn’t say a word.

He doesn’t need to. His hands are already moving, reaching for the small bag of coke on the table. His fingers tremble as they close around it, the weight of the plastic barely registering in his hand. 

Barry watches him, that same smug grin never leaving his face, taking another drag of his joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a low chuckle. He’s not surprised. Not at all.

"Of course," Barry mutters, shaking his head in amusement. “Of course, you're takin’ that shit with you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t fight him. He can feel Barry’s eyes on him, feel the judgment radiating off him, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not anymore. 

Not after everything he’s already fucked up. He stuffs the bag in his jacket pocket, standing up on shaky legs, the room still spinning a little as he stumbles toward the door. His mind is on autopilot, moving without him, as if the drugs are the only thing holding him together. 

"Attaboy, Country Club," Barry calls after him, voice dripping with condescension, laughter bubbling up from deep in his chest. “Just keep runnin’. That’s what you’re good at, right?”

Rafe’s hand tightens on the doorknob, his teeth grinding together, but he doesn’t turn back. He can’t look at Barry—he can’t look at any of this—so he does what he always does.

He walks away. He doesn’t think. He just keeps moving, out of the door, out into the night, the bag burning a hole in his pocket.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀

It’s been two weeks since you last saw him.

Two weeks of silence, of unanswered calls and texts that sit there on your screen and make you cry every time you look at them. You told him you’d leave, but you didn’t mean it. You never meant it.

You just needed him to fight. For himself. But he didn’t.

And now, you can’t stop thinking about him. It physically hurts.

Every morning you wake up with this heavy impossible ache in your chest, and it only gets worse as the day goes on. You keep wondering where he is, if he’s okay, if he’s even thinking about you or if he’s too far gone to care.

You miss him. God, you miss him.

Now you don’t even know where he is. If he’s still spiraling or if he’s hit rock bottom.

You’ve barely been able to keep it together at work. Every time you try to focus, that image of Rafe in his absolute worst slips in, and you never get anything done. You’ve called in sick twice, just to stay in bed and cry, because you can barely breathe.

You’ve reached out to Sarah a few times, trying to understand what’s going on, but she doesn’t know much either. "He’s off the grid," she’d told you last time, "Doesn’t want to talk to anyone."

That was a week ago.

And now you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone, debating if you should try one more time. One more call. One more text.

Because this can’t possibly end this way. 

He’s the love of your life. 

Sarah’s name flashes on the screen, and you nearly drop the damn thing. “Sarah?”

“Hey,” You can hear it immediately—something’s wrong. “Are you home right now?”

Your stomach drops, “Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”

You can hear her take a shaky breath. “It’s Rafe. He’s, shit, it’s bad. Like, really bad.”

 “What do you mean, bad? Sarah, what happened?”

“Dad’s trying to get his doctor on the line,” she says, her voice cracking. “Just in case he ODs.”

Your blood turns ice cold.

“He’s not picking up,” she continues, her words spilling out in a rush, like she’s trying to keep herself from breaking down. “Dad’s freaking out, and Rafe—he’s not making sense. He’s been on a bender for days, and now he’s just... he’s not there. I don’t know what to do. I thought maybe you could—”

“I’m coming,” you say, cutting her off, already standing, your body moving on autopilot.

You hang up before she can say anything else, grabbing your keys and rushing out the door. The drive to Tannyhill  feels like it takes forever as your mind comes up with worst-case scenarios. You’ve seen Rafe struggle before—you’ve seen the dark places he’s been—but if Sarah’s calling you, if Ward’s getting a doctor involved….

You barely notice you’ve already parked the car, barely notice the front door swinging open as you run inside. The house is quiet, too quiet.

Sarah’s standing by the staircase, her eyes red and puffy. She doesn’t say anything, just nods toward the living room.

And that’s when you see him.

He’s slumped on the couch, his body limp, his eyes half-open but glazed over, like he’s not even seeing what’s in front of him. His skin is pale, clammy, his hands twitching every few seconds, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looks like half a version of himself, his breathing shallow and uneven.

Ward’s pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. “I don’t care if he’s busy, get him here now. He’s going to fucking die.”

“Rafe?” you call, stepping toward him. But he doesn’t react. Doesn’t even flinch. He just stares ahead, eyes unfocused, like he’s not even aware you’re there.

Sarah’s standing behind you now, her voice low, “He won’t talk to us. He’s too far gone.”

You sink down beside him, your heart breaking at the sight of him like this. You reach out, hesitating for a second before gently placing your hand on his arm.

“Rafe,” your voice wavers. “Baby, it’s me. Please… please talk to me.”

But there’s nothing. Just silence.

His head lolls to the side, and his eyes meet yours—but it’s like looking at a ghost. The person you know, the person you love, isn’t there. Not right now. Not in this moment. And it kills you.

You keep whispering his name, pleading for him to wake up, to do something, but nothing works.

Ward's still on the phone, pacing like a caged animal, his voice a angry hum in the background. His eyes flick over to you every few minutes, but he doesn’t say anything. Sarah’s standing off to the side, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes red and puffy from crying. You can see how scared she is, and you’re glad they got Weezie out of the house before she could see this. 

After what feels like an eternity, the front door bursts open, and a doctor rushes in, followed by a paramedic with a bag of medical equipment. The doctor, some guy Ward must have on speed dial for situations like this, doesn’t waste any time. He kneels down beside Rafe, checking his pulse, his pupils, his breathing.

“This is bad,” the doctor mutters, shaking his head. “He’s lucky he’s still breathing.”

Lucky. 

The paramedic moves in, setting up an oxygen mask, checking Rafe’s vitals, and it feels like the room is spinning. You try to stay calm, try to keep your hand on Rafe.

Ward finally hangs up the phone and stands there, watching as the doctor works. “Is he gonna be okay?” he asks, his voice strained because god forbid he shows more emotion.

The doctor glances up, his expression grim. “We need to take him in. I’m stabilizing him, but if this had gone on any longer, we’d be having a different conversation right now.”

You feel like you're going to be sick.

The paramedic starts prepping him for transport, and you stand there, helpless, watching as they move him onto a stretcher. His body looks so limp, so fragile. They’re talking about taking him to the hospital for observation, but all you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears.

Ward steps forward, he watches his son being carried away. For the first time, you see it—real fear in his eyes. 

“I should’ve seen this coming,” Ward says, his voice shaking. “I should’ve stopped it. This is my fault.”

You feel something snap inside of you.  “I’m sure it fucking is.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there like a fucking idiot. Sarah is beside you now, her hand on your arm, gently pulling you back. “Let’s go,” she mutters,“We should go with him.”

You nod, swallowing as you follow her out of the house, leaving Ward standing there alone.

You climb into your car, Sarah beside you, and you both sit there for a moment in silence, watching as the ambulance pulls away, taking Rafe with it.

“I’m scared,” Sarah admits. 

You close your eyes, and nod. “So am I.”

You have to remind yourself to breathe. She sits beside you, staring straight ahead and neither of you says another word.

The hospital is quiet when you arrive, eerily so. You both rush in, Sarah at your side, searching for the emergency room and after a bunch of paperwork and hurried conversations, you’re finally led to the waiting room. The doctor said they’d keep you updated, and you sit down on those stiff, uncomfortable chairs, the waiting begins.

Minutes drag by like hours. You try to text or scroll through your phone, anything to distract yourself, but you can’t focus. Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is Rafe. It’s like your brain is stuck on replay, and you can’t shut it off. Sarah’s over there biting her lip until it’s bleeding. Every now and then, she looks at you, like she’s about to say something, but then she doesn’t. And you don’t either. You can’t. What the hell would you even say? It feels like you’re both waiting for the worst possible news and just pretending you’re not.

After what feels like forever, the doctor finally comes through the doors, and Sarah and you jump up at the same time. 

The doctor sighs, and he looks tired, like this isn’t the first time he’s delivered news like this today.

“We stabilized him,” he says, “He was really close to an overdose, but we got to him in time. He’s still unconscious, but his vitals are stable for now. We’ll keep him under observation for at least 24 hours.”

You finally take a deep breath, but it’s shaky, and it doesn’t feel real. 

Sarah doesn’t even hesitate. The second the doctor says Rafe’s stable, she’s heading towards his room, like she needs to see him, to make sure for herself that he’s really still here. You don’t follow her, though. Your legs feel like they’re made of concrete, if you move, you’ll just collapse right there in the hallway.

As much as you want to be with him, to hold his hand or just… see him breathing, you know you can’t handle it. Not right now. You’ve spent the last two weeks trying to hold it together, and this is the first time you feel like you can finally breathe. Like you’re not suffocating with worry.

What you need more than anything is to get out of here. To just breathe, to close your eyes for more than a minute without the image of him passed out, strung out, burned into your brain. You need sleep. You need to feel something other than panic. He’s gonna be okay. Maybe not perfect, maybe not healed, but for now, he’s alive. 

The next day, you finally gather the courage to see him. You feel like you might throw up at any second. You stop outside his room, staring at the door for what feels like forever, trying to convince yourself to go inside.

He’s lying in bed, looking like he barely walked out of this one alive, but he’s awake. His eyes meet yours the second you step inside, and you feel like you’re going to start crying at any given second. 

“Hey,” You manage to say, You don’t trust your voice to be strong enough to say something more.

Rafe blinks, like he’s surprised to see you. His voice is rough when he speaks, cracked from everything his body’s been through. “You came.”

“Of course I did,” He’s genuinely shocked. As if he thought you’d just walk away from all of this. From him. You swallow hard, taking a step closer to the bed. “Of course I came, Rafe.” Your voice is soft, barely holding together. “Where else would I be?”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes flicker away from yours, settling on the IV in his arm, like he can’t stand to look at you. 

“Sarah called me. She was scared. She didn’t know what to do.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he still won’t meet your eyes. “She shouldn’t have,” he mutters, his voice hoarse, barely there.

“She shouldn’t have had to, Rafe. You scared the shit out of her—out of everyone. And I’ve been sitting here for two weeks, waiting for you to say something, anything, and you just—” You stop yourself, your throat closing up, and you bite your lip to keep from crying. “You almost died.”

You can see his chest rising and falling slowly, and for a split second, you think he’s not going to answer at all. That he’s just going to keep shutting you out. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to see how fucked up I am.”

Your heart breaks all over again because you’ve already seen it. You’ve seen every part of him—the good, the bad, the absolute worst. And you’re still here. You’re still standing in this stupid hospital room because you love him. He shakes his head, his hands gripping the edge of the blanket like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“I don’t deserve you.”

You step closer to the bed, sitting down carefully on the edge, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe. Just a little bit.

“Don’t say that,” you reach for his hand. He flinches at first but doesn’t pull away when you lace your fingers with his. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get through this. But you can’t keep pushing me away. I need you to let me help you.”

He closes his eyes, his face twisting in pain, “Ward wanted us to meet mom and I just—”

You’ve never fully understood what his mom meant to him, or maybe what losing her did to him, now you do. That deep-rooted pain that always seems to haunt him when he talks about her is stronger than you’ve ever seen before. 

“I didn’t want you to see this mess. I don’t want anyone to. I’m a fucking disaster. Every time I try to fix something, I just make it worse. I just—” He breaks off, his jaw clenching like he’s trying to swallow down the rest of his words, the ones he can’t say out loud.

“You spent years sober, that’s not easy,” You scoot closer, wrapping your arms around him carefully, not caring if he feels like a mess or if you’re being too much. You just want him to feel like he’s not alone. “Baby, I know you’re hurting,” you murmur into his shoulder, “But I’m not going anywhere.”

“You should,” He confesses, “I hurt you.”

“You have,” you admit, “But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving. I’m not gonna give up on you.”

He looks away, like he doesn’t believe you, like he’s waiting for you to just walk out of that hospital room and never look back. But you don’t.

You tighten your grip on his hand, "You don’t get to decide that for me.  I’m still here because I love you. Even when you push me away.”

“You shouldn’t love me,” he whispers, like it’s some kind of fact, like it’s already been decided.

You shake your head, leaning in closer, your hand resting on his cheek. “But I do, Rafe. I always will. Even when you don’t think you deserve it, we’ll figure it out, together, okay? One step at a time.”

He nods, barely, but it's something. It’s a start.

[vanesycho]

Watched Jaemin and Mark live the other day and they played Jealous Tendencys 😲 Jaemin was so hot 🤭 can you please write a fic where fwb Jaemin is jealous of yn and Mark (when Mark tries to get to know yn)🫣 thank you in advance luv!!

warning:smut, p in v

a/n:pls...I really surrendered my soul when I watched the live, JAEMIN WAS SO F HOT, anyway, thank you for your request I hope you like it🤍🤍

wc:1,9k

"It's really nice to meet you Y/n. Why hasn't Jaemin ever mentioned you?" You laughed when Jaemin rolled his eyes at Mark's question. He regretted accidentally mentioning you to him a few days ago. Sure, you agreed that nothing romantic would happen between you two, but was Jaemin going to watch you flirt with him after he fucked you half an hour before Mark got home?

You came onto his cock with a loud moan as Jaemin pounded your pussy once more. He tiredly laid down next to you and kissed your forehead. "Are you okay?" You turned to him, trying to catch your breath. "God...You were harder than usual." He laughed at your words and sat up straight and smoothed his hair that was sticking to his forehead. "Mark will be here in a few hours." You sat up as well. "Yeah? We still have time for the shower."

Jaemin turned his head to you, staring at your face for a moment. "Are you really okay with meeting him?" You laughed, frowning in disbelief. “I mean...Of course? I’ve only been having sex with you for a long time, it might be good to try someone new. Mark... I’m already curious about what kind of person he is.” he watched your excitement, jaw clenched, and grabbed your wrist, quickly leading you to the bathroom. “Don’t get your hopes up.” you entered the bathroom, Jaemin spoke again as he adjusted the water. “Before you flirt with him, remember who fucked you a few hours ago.”

Even though what you had just experienced with Jaemin didn’t leave your mind, there was something else that didn’t leave your mind, and that was why he was so angry about this situation. You had already set your rules for this fwb relationship, but it seemed like someone was completely disregarding them. Whenever you tried to bring someone else into your life, it only ended in failure because of Jaemin, and it seemed like this would happen too.

You turned your attention away from him and looked at Mark with a smile, and when you were about to answer his question, Jaemin quickly intervened. “I didn’t mention it because I don’t have to tell you everything.” Noticing his anger, Mark laughed nervously. “Dude, calm down. It’s just that Y/n is really beautiful, I can’t believe you hid her from me.” Mark leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, examining you, a smile appearing on your face when you saw him looking at you up and down, you didn’t take your eyes off him. "I think it’s good that we met, I’d like to get to know you better.”

Jaemin laughed hysterically, licking his dry lips and brushing his hair back with a deep breath. His angry expression amused you even more, you really liked pushing his boundaries and Jaemin knew it all too well. “Yeah, Y/n is beautiful but don’t you think you’re overdoing it? Take it slow dude this is your first time seeing each other.” Mark tore his eyes away from you and looked at Jaemin, you looked at him the same way, what he said sounded funny because when you first saw each other all you did was spend a lot of time naked in bed and now he was trying to protect you.

Mark frowned and glanced at the two of you, slowly pointing his index finger at the two of you "Dude wait- are you two..." You looked at Jaemin, and when you saw the slight smirk on his face you immediately jumped in "Friends? Yes we are, it hasn't been that long actually so it's normal that you don't know me." You turned back to him, when you saw the smirk on his face turn into irritation you let out a small chuckle. Mark took the opportunity to quickly reply "Oh that's great, so can we get some alone time one day?" You looked at the phone he held out to you, you reached for it but another hand snatched it away as you were about to grab it, both of you looked at Jaemin with a questioning look, Jaemin handed the phone back to Mark "Do you really need the number? Just come to my house when you want to see her, because I'm sure she'll be here."

Mark took the phone without a word and looked at you again, you bit your lower lip to keep from laughing and cleared your throat "Alright then. I better go." Mark stood up and you heard a calming sigh from Jaemin, Mark turned to you one last time before walking out the door. "I'll see you later?" You gave him a smile, leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "I'll see you later." Mark swallowed hard, holding his breath for a moment as your voice echoed in his ears, Jaemin's throat clearing interrupted you. Mark returned to reality and soon left the house. Jaemin was looking at you with his arms crossed, you tried to walk past him but were forced to stand still when his hand grabbed your wrist harder than it should have been, you looked at him. "Yeah?" He leaned closer to your face, his voice wasn't loud but you didn't need it to tell that he was definitely angry. "What's with all this attitude? Are you going to flirt with every guy you meet like that?" The relaxed attitude you displayed in response to his anger made him even angrier, you grinned and pulled your arm. "Do I need to reiterate the rules we talked about? Because you don't seem to follow any of them."

He just studied you with a serious expression on his face, "Fuck the rules, it's funny how you think anyone else can get close to you when I'm around, Y/n." You tilted your head slightly to the side. "This is the purpose of our relationship, Jaemin. Just sex and no feelings. I thought we agreed on that." He grabbed your arms and pulled you towards him, you had to lift your head slightly to look at him because of the closeness. "We may not have feelings between us, but that still doesn't mean I'll let anyone else touch you." You lowered your eyes to his lips, a slight smirk appearing on your face. "Oh, is that jealousy I feel?"

The satisfied expression on your face made him swallow. "You know damn well. And you like it, don't you?" He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the wall, a small pained groan coming out of your mouth. "Fuck-" Jaemin didn't wait long before he moved to your neck, you shivered when he breathed into your neck. “If you like driving me crazy, then go ahead. But know that all this effort is for nothing because I will never let anyone else know about this body that I know every single detail of, you understand?” He sucked on your earlobe and started kissing you from behind your ear, moving his kisses down, bringing his knee between your legs and pressing it against your pussy over your dress, you let out a breath.

He slowly moved his hand down your body, the kisses started to wet your neck, he reached his hand inside your dress and caressed your clit “J-jaem..” your body started to burn, every place he kissed left a mark of fire. Jaemin had no intention of stopping, he had no intention of sharing you with anyone else and you had to learn that, one way or another. “Being alone with Mark, hm? Maybe if I leave marks all over your body he’ll figure out who you belong to, what do you think?” You moaned slightly in pain when he bit your neck hard, your voice reaching his ears and he couldn’t suppress the urge to do more.

Soon your panties were on the floor and you were in Jaemin’s lap, you were tired of moving, Jaemin smirked as he listened to your whimpering and examined you. “Are you tired? That soon?” He grabbed your hips and squeezed them lightly. “You want me to help?” You nodded quickly, the fact that you were so needy stirred something inside him. One hand went to your nipple and he stroked your erect nipple with his thumb. “Then stay with me. Just tell me that you’ll be mine and I’ll give you what you want. Will you be alone with Mark, baby?” His big veiny cock inside you was driving you crazy, the pain and sensitivity of not being able to move inside you was making your eyes fill with tears, you muttered a curse. “Fuck- n-no I won’t, only you will fuck me.. only me- fuck Jaemin please..”

The look in his eyes changed instantly, his mocking look turning into a hunger for you and it didn’t take long for you to find yourself lying on your back. He lifted one of your leg up and wrapped it around his waist, and without waiting, he started to enter your pussy with a certain tempo, the pleasure you were finally getting made you moan, Jaemin leaned in and sucked on your lower lip "That's right baby, I'll be the only one fucking this beautiful pussy of yours. What a shame that fucking Mark won't be able to enjoy it." You laughed when you saw him smirk at the last sentence "You're crazy." He smiled in the same way "For this beautiful pussy? Damn I am." Your juices mixed with his, your breathing sounds bounced between the four walls, Jaemin moaned deeply and his movements became rougher. His cock hitting your pleasure point made you let out a loud moan, without you even having to speak, he knew he had found the right spot from the tightening of your pussy "Yeah? You like it? Good, every time you think about going to someone else, make sure that other dicks won't feel like this and think again." his cock that was constantly hitting your pleasure spot was making you moan and whine with each hit, after a few movements your stomach tightened, "I'm close.. Please.." Jaemin spread your legs and watched with his own eyes how he was destroying your pussy, he let out a deep groan at the sight, "Fuck." He cursed between his breaths.

He listened to all of your pleas from time to time with pleasure, you were only his and you would continue to be his, there was no other way. He should be the only one who had this beautiful body and you, the only one who could hear this beautiful voice, only he should know how your pussy felt, the beauty of your touches. "Are you going to cum? Hm? You were flirting with my best friend earlier and now you're going to do this? Fuck- I should have let Mark stay and watch this." he laughed hysterically, laughing at the fact that you were too busy moaning to respond, he slid his hand from your cheek and grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. "Don't even try to take your eyes off of me, do you hear me?" You nodded, he continued his movements without breaking eye contact, watched how you moaned with your mouth slightly open.

He hit your pleasure spot hard a few more times and finally felt the semen flowing from your pussy slide off his cock, then he pulled his cock out of you and pulled it a few times with his hand and cummed between your legs with a deep moan. He put his hand next to you to support himself, leaned over and kissed your lips, you looked at him, Jaemin reached his other hand up to your face and started caressing your cheek. "Let's end this stupid complicated relationship, just be mine."

[starboye]

starring: scott summers x male reader x remy lebeau

request: Do you think you could do vanilla sex (Doesn't have to be too vanilla but it's just nice and slow and maybe body worship) with Gambit x Scott x bottom reader?? I wanna make Scott all flushed when the reader praises him and Gambit just begging the reader to focus on him as well and he might be a little rougher with his thrusts or something to get his attention!!

warnings: smut, cursing, double penetration, praising, body worship if you squint, vanilla sex, jealous!remy

after a successful mission like today it would be so wrong not to reward your two favorite boys with some loving, bringing them back to your room and slowly starting to make out with them, little congratulation kisses turning into sloppily making out with each other and then you on top of scott with remy standing behind you, both slowly thrusting in and out of your supple hole.

"you did great today scott" you lightly moan leaning down to kiss him deeply "well i couldn't have done it without the team" he tries to say but you stop him with another kiss "and who commanded that team hm" you softly say "i- i did" he stammers to your words, remy standing behind you hoping that he could get some compliments to but no all your loving words go straight to scott annoying him.

"y/n" remy says snaking his hands around your waist "yeah rem" you question turning your head to face him "d-did i do good" he flashes a smile hoping you say something nice "yeah you did good" you shrug your shoulders before turning back to praise scott more, but good just good how come scott gets great and he gets good, what did he do wrong, oh my god are you mad at him, all things remy was thinking as you talked to scott more.

"you were so brave, fighting off the sentinels all by yourself" you further praised him as your hands roamed his body, feeling down his chest all the way to his glistening abs "thank you" he blushes, flustered by all your kind words while remys face turned sour, quietly mimicking your words with annoying facial expressions till an idea sparks in his head and a smirk spreads across his face.

he slowly begins thrusting into you harder trying to get you attention, you feel your body jolt forward a little and some pressure build in you stomach from remys cock hitting the inside of your gummy like walls so you whip around to see the cause, you see remy looking at you with angry eyes, glowing a slight hint of purple at you "is there something you want to tell me remy" you ask, glaring at him with narrow eyes.

breaking down remys walls immediately, his face turning from anger to softness "where's my compliments, i mean you tell scott all these sweet things but not me" he whines sitting his head on your shoulder and slowing thrusts to be more careful "who would've thought that the tough remy lebeau would be a sucker for compliments" you laugh running your fingers through his hair.

"i just wanna hear you" he softly speak into your neck with kisses before wrapping his arms around you into a hug, scott watching in amazement at remy becoming a softy "well you also did so go- no so great today, i saw you out there throwing you cards and blowing stuff up as always" you compliment bringing a little grin to remys face.

"matter of fact both of you did amazing today" you cheerily say making the boys smile widely and inch them closer to their own climaxes "c-can we... cum now" scott asks feeling himself on the edge of blowing "mhm please y/n" remy asks still holding you tightly as if you were going to leave him right there "yes you can" you say feeling them shake under you.

a slew of whines and moans fall from both of their mouths as the pump cum into you, shudders running down your back as their hands search your body for any contacts they can make, groping and grabbing everywhere on you, finally coming down from the high they pull out of you, cum dripping from your sloppy hole and running down your legs.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft

[zevrra]

JJK—

synopsis: just some random hc’s i have for the men of jjk!

tags: fluff only, the men of jjk, nanami kento, choso kamo, geto suguru, gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, hc’s, short & sweet

creator notes: will make a part 2 for this >:3

nanami !!

— is totally that “i will take care of you in every aspect” guy but i secretly think he’s pretty possessive too

— doesn’t get jealous easily

— flip flops between being a total morning person (on his days off) but the days he has to “work” he’s the opposite

— love/hate relationship with coffee bc he def drinks 8 cups of it every morning and feels gross after he does it

— the epitome of cleanliness and perfect hygiene

— like 100% he uses top of the line shampoo and body washes and after shaves and cologne!!

— ALWAYS smells good and it’s a mix of amber, some kinda wood, and probably something soft like vanilla

— feel like he’s cheap when it comes to stuff for himself but anytime it involves you, he’s buying you the best of the best

— leaves you notes all over the place whether it’s on the fridge, next to your side of the bed, sending flowers to your work space with a note attached, all just to tell you how much he cares and loves you

— willingly works overtime for you :3

choso !!

— sleeps until 4 pm every day

— a true night owl, mans HATES the sun

— feel like he’s super photogenic but hates taking photos unless you’re taking them

— would work any electronic like an elderly man

— “i can’t find the settings on this thing. where is it i’ve been looking for it for 15 minutes!” “it’s right here” “oh. how did you do that?”

— either has no scent at all or smells like iron/cinnamon/or straight up blood im so sorry skshskhkdhsk

— you both match everything from jewelry, especially rings, to outfits

— sleepy eye bags 24/7!!!

— takes a 5 minute shower but sits in the bathroom on his phone watching the loudest videos he can for 45 mins before he gets in

— loves spicy food!!

geto !!

— leaves gifts in your rooms without a word

— is the type to “i saw it and it reminded me of you so i got it”

— loves wholeheartedly. full chest, heart, mind, body, and soul

— willingly hands you his hoodie after he’s done wearing it

— quality time & gift giving is his love language!!

— heavy on quality time, he wants to sit or stand beside you and just coexist 24/7

— matching tattoos and piercings

— scary guard dog bf!!!!

— actually doesn’t mean to be but he kind of loves it a lot when other guys run away from you(him)

— his pet names for you range from “babe” to “stinky” and everything in between

— probably smells like sage & citrus

— he takes the longesssst showers ever and always invites you to them

— let’s you braid his hair, falls asleep every time you do it

gojo !!

— wants to touch you constantly!

— you’re either holding his hand or sitting in his lap anytime you two are together

— loves loves loves hugs

— gossip QUEEN! omg he’s so nosy

— “did you HEAR about this????” and it’s either the most basic information or straight up gossip gold

— always emphasizes the MY in his pet names for you

— “oh my love!” “my darling.” “hmm my princess?”

— a jealous, jealous man >:3

— loves to show you off until someone other than himself looks at you jshsjshk

— is the type of dude who acts all funny and tough in public but the second it’s just the two of you, at home, he wants to be babied and have his back scratched 24/7

— doesn’t tell you when it’s going to be chilly out so he gets to tease you as he hands you his warm jacket

— plans surprise dates all the time

toji !!

— is never caught wearing anything other than sweat pants

— wore a suit once for your first date and then never put it back on

— his love language is probably a mix between physical touch and gift giving

— has a hand always placed on your thigh!!

— his favorite season is winter and when you ask him why he just says he likes the cold

— it probably also has to do with wanting to keep you warm too

— is the type to: “i hate wearing bracelets” “ok ill just take it back” “no fuck you i’m gonna wear it and never take it off”

— literally keeps everything you give him in a box so he doesn’t lose them

— uses 13 and 1 shampoo

— calls you his old lady(affectionate) unironically

— smells like cigarettes and cheap ass beer KSHSKHS

— when he’s actually clean and sober he probably smells more like heavy wood and fire/smoke

— is a massive HEATER when he sleeps and he always sleeps on his back

— sleeps in the nude

[bookwormjust]

Cassian have competition (established relationship with Cassian, Nyx declaration)

It had been a busy day at the River House with Nyx clinging to your side from the moment you walked in. The little boy had made it clear to everyone in the inner circle that he had no intention of letting you out of his sight. You couldn’t help but smile at his devotion, his tiny hands always reaching for yours, his giggles echoing through the halls as he followed you everywhere.

You were sitting on the floor with him in the living room, helping him build a tower out of wooden blocks, when Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and the rest of the inner circle strolled in. Nyx immediately straightened up, puffing out his little chest as he glanced at his parents and then back at you with a serious expression.

"When I grow up," Nyx announced loudly, his voice filled with determination, "I’m going to marry Auntie!"

Cassian, who had been lounging on one of the couches, instantly perked up at the statement. His eyes widened in playful mock surprise, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Oh really?” he said, sitting up and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You’re going to marry my mate, huh?”

Nyx nodded vigorously, his small wings fluttering with excitement as he declared, “Yep! I love her, and she’s mine!”

The room erupted into laughter, everyone chuckling at Nyx’s bold claim, though you noticed Cassian narrowing his eyes playfully as he stood up and walked over to where you and Nyx sat. He crouched down next to the boy, looking him straight in the eye with mock seriousness.

“I don’t know about that, little warrior,” Cassian said, his voice full of amusement. “I think you’ll have to get through me first if you want to marry her.”

Nyx, undeterred, puffed up even more, his face scrunching up in a serious expression as he held onto your arm. “But I’ll be big and strong like you, Uncle Cass! I can protect her!”

Cassian raised an eyebrow, glancing at you with a smirk before turning back to Nyx. “Oh, is that so? And how do you plan on doing that?”

Nyx stood up as tall as he could, puffing out his little chest again and spreading his wings wide. “I’ll be the strongest Illyrian ever! I’ll fly her everywhere, and I’ll get her lots of toys and flowers!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, ruffling Nyx’s hair as you beamed down at him. “That sounds like a pretty great plan,” you said, glancing at Cassian with a teasing smile. “He might have some competition, Cass.”

Cassian let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned in closer to you, his large hand resting on your lower back. “Oh, trust me, I’m not worried. I know who you’re coming home to every night.”

Nyx, still not backing down, looked between you and Cassian with a stubborn frown. “But when I’m big, she’s gonna marry me,” he insisted, as if the matter was already settled.

Rhysand, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, grinned and chimed in, “Looks like you’ve got a rival, Cassian. You better watch out.”

Feyre was smiling fondly, clearly amused by the whole situation, while Mor couldn’t stop laughing from her spot on the sofa. “Oh, Nyx, I think you’ve got some stiff competition,” Mor said, winking at Cassian.

Cassian ruffled Nyx’s hair, smiling at the boy. “Alright, alright, I’ll let you have your dreams, kid. But just know that she’s mine for now,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

Nyx, still determined, crawled into your lap, snuggling against you as he wrapped his arms around your neck. “I’ll wait,” he said stubbornly, looking up at you with big, adoring eyes.

You laughed softly, holding him close as you looked at Cassian. “Guess you’ve got some time before he steals me away.”

Cassian shook his head, though the smile on his face told you he wasn’t truly worried. “I think I’ll manage,” he said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “But for now, I’ll share.”

Nyx grinned, clearly satisfied with that answer, as he nestled closer to you. And though the teasing was lighthearted, you could feel the warmth of Cassian’s love and protection radiating through the bond, grounding you in this moment of laughter and joy with your family.

[samandcolbyownme]

POOKIE WHEN ARE WE GETTING SOME MORE COLBY FICS IM DYINGGGGG (in all seriousness I'm not tryna rush you but pleaseeee just think about writing some more soon it's been like a month I've already re-read them all like 3 times 😭🤚)

I am thankful you chose to re-read my stuff, but here!! Here’s some new Colby smut 🖤

DISCLAIMER: This fanfiction is going to contain reader cheating on boyfriend with Colby. I do not condone cheating, it’s horrible. This is strictly for fanfiction entertainment purposes only!!

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, cheating, flirting, mentions of people being drunk, kissing, hair pulling, unprotected sex, general filth

Word Count: 1.3k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“Alright.” You sighed as you help up the weight of Leo, your beyond plastered boyfriend, “Come on, just a few more steps, okay?”

Leo groans, mumbling some incoherent words as he slowly lifts his legs onto each step.

“Okay, just-“ you huff, “Lean.. up against, yeah.” You push him back against the wall by the door and fumble to quickly get the house key attached to his key ring.

You drop them and Leo leans forward, “I’ll get’em.”

He leans too far and about knocks you both off of the porch, but the banister saves you from going back, “Leo, stand back up. I have to un-“

The door open and Colby, Leo’s roommate walks out, “I thought I heard something out here, what’s-“

You cut him off, pushing Leo up to stand, “He’s wasted. Again.”

Leo stumbles backwards, “You.. say, that. Like it’s a ba-“ he hiccups, “Bad things..”

Colby grabs him before he can move back any further, “Alright, man. Let’s get you upstairs to your bed, yeah?” Colby glances at you and you shake your head, “I’ll be in. I just-“

“Oh come on! Y/n, cheer up! It’s a p-party!” Leo slurs, “Come to bed with me!”

“I’ll.. be there in a second. I’m going to get you some water and medicine for in the morning.” You walk in behind them and go straight for the kitchen.

Colby laughs as he watches Leo stumble up the steps, “C’mon man. You gotta lift-“ he laughs, “Lifts your legs, dude. There ya go.”

You shake your head, laughing slightly as you open the fridge door. You grab two bottles of water, turning around to set them on the counter before you close the door.

You walk over to the medicine cabinet and reach up to grab the Tylenol. Your fingers push it back and you let out a frustrated sigh as you drop down from your tip toes.

“Need some help?”

Colby startles you for a second, “Oh, um. Yeah.” You laugh quietly, “You scared me. Figured you’d be up there for a little.”

“I’m pretty sure he was asleep before he even hit the bed.” Colby walks over and reaches up, big body right next to yours as he reaches up, “Here you go.”

You take the bottle and set it down, “Thanks.”

He leans against the counter, his hand resting on top, “I don’t..” he sighs, “Stop me if I cross a line, but.. isn’t this his fourth night in a row getting wasted like this? I mean I’m not trying to judge.. or anything, but-“

“Yeah.” You cut him off, scoffing as you lay a hand on your forehead, “Yeah.”

Colby stays silent and you take a deep breath, looking over at him, “I’ve tried talking to him.. I-I- I’ve tried telling him that drinking isn’t-“ you shake your head, “Colby.” Your voice breaks, “What.. what do I do?”

He tilts his head, raising his brows as he shrugs, “Whatever you want, y/n. I don’t think-“

“No, Colby. Please. I need someone to tell me something.” You turn towards him and he turns his head towards you, staring at you while he thinks.

“Please.” Your voice is a whisper and Colby reaches up, brushing hair from your face, “I think someone out there can treat you better, someone who has gotten to know you without actually being with you.”

He steps closer, “I think I could treat you better than he can.” He bends down, lifting you up onto the counter, and it’s game over.

His lips are on yours.

Your hands sliding his shirt up his body.

His hands working to pull your shorts down as you move your hips side to side.

“You woke up at three in the morning, might as well make it worth it, yeah?” Colby mumbles as he leans back, discarding his shirt to the floor.

“Just..” you pull him back in, kissing him as you spread your legs and push his sweats down, “Shut up and fuck me.”

He smirks and pulls up into the edge of the counter, his lips on yours as he pulls your panties to the side and thrusts into you.

You throw your head back, one arm around his neck, your other hand flat on the countertop next to you.

“Oh my-“ you lay your forehead against his chest, biting down onto your lip as he thrusts roughly into you.

“Look at me, look at me.” Colby groans, grabbing your hair and tilting your head back, “You deserve so much better than what you’re getting. You hear me?”

You nod, mouth open as your eyes roll back.

“Words, baby.” Colby wraps your hair around his head, gaining full control. You whimper, eyes opening to look at him, “I deserve so much better.”

You swallow, “You can be my better.”

“I’ll kick him out tomorrow.” Colby bites down on his lip, watching as your face twists and turns with the best pleasure you’ve ever received, “Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

You gasp, your walls clenching around him as you reach the edge, “F-fuck, Colby. Colby.” Your nails dig into his skin, creating red trails as they drag across his shoulders, “Y-yes!”

Colby’s lips press against yours as he tries to silence your moans, “quiet, princess.”

“He’s passed out. Probably wouldn’t give a fuck anyway.” You pant, “Fuck, Colby. I-I’m-“ you gasp, nails digging into his skin as you finally spill over into that euphoric feeling that you’ve been seeking.

“That’s it, baby. Let go for me. I got you.” Colby whispers, “Fuck, y-you- fuck.” He pulls out, spilling his cum onto your thigh, “Shit, shit.”

You rest your head back against the closed cupboards, “That..” you laugh slightly, “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Colby fixes his sweats and walks away for a second.

You lay a hand over your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes, “That..” you take a deep breath, laughing away the tears, “Oh fuck.”

Colby steps towards you, wiping off your leg with a towel, “Sorry if I-“

“No, oh god no.” You look up at him, “I don’t..” you take a deep breath, “I don’t regret this, I just.. the timing.. of it..”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips, “Yeah, no, I completely get it. But I’m sorry if I made you feel-“

“Colby.” You cut him off, “You have nothing to be sorry for, you want to know why?”

He looks up at you, “Tell me, baby.”

You smirk, tilting your head, “Because you have treated me better in these last few months than Leo has. Everytime I’ve hung out here, you were always the one to offer me a drink or food or whatever the case may be.”

“Leo is an immature little boy and I’m just glad we both realized what kind of person he is before he fucked over either one of us over.” He tucks hair behind your ear and kisses your forehead, “Sleep on the couch tonight. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

You nod, “Already planned on it, but thank you.” You smirk and slip down off the counter, bending down to grab your shorts and fix your panties, “I’m just.. scared how he’ll react you know.”

Colby nods, “I’ll be there, I mean, if you want me to be.”

You nod, “Please, at least hide upstairs or something? I’ll tell him you went out with Sam or.. whatever.”

Colby fights back a smile and you tilt your head, “What?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing, I just..” he walks over, wrapping his arms around you, “Just thinking about after he leaves, how much sex we’re going to have.”

You laugh, “Colby.”

“What? Celebration sex, ya know?”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

I feel like this kinda sucked but aw well. Let me know what you think! I love you all so much. Thanks for reading and I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[sierra-r-a-e]

Hyyy , love you work🩷 do you mind doing kento being a little bit mean due to frustration or maybe jealousy? Thank you 🎀

Hii, Thank you for requesting!! I’m sorry it’s so late though! 🎀

cw: jealous!nanami, orgasm denial, jealousy(obviously), hair pulling, edging, squirting

Nanami Kento was never one for being jealous, he didn’t care who you hung out with or was friends with, he trusted you.

It was when you purposefully flirted with one of his coworkers to get a rise out of him, that’s when he really gets fed up.

The two of you were attending one of his fancy work gatherings when he spotted you standing and laughing with Gojo, being casually touchy with him. He knew you were doing it on purpose because you glanced over at him, making sure he was watching.

That’s how you ended up in this position— Kento behind you, one of his hands gripping a fistful of your hair, the other pinning you hands behind your back as he pounded into you from behind.

“m’ sorry-“, you say through a moan, trying your best to speak despite the overwhelming pleasure from the pace of his thrusts.

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” He said through gritted teeth, pulling you up onto your knees by the hold he had on your hair and wrists. “You didn’t seem to sorry when you were having a good time with Gojo, now did you?” He grunted, his mouth right near your ear as he roughly pounded into your sopping hole.

You knew you shouldn’t be getting off on his frustration and jealousy— but god, it was so hot.

The hand he he’d been using to pin your wrists behind your back now reach around to your front and to your clit, rubbing tight circles into the bud.

You knew you definitely weren’t going to last long, especially not if he kept this up. In fact, it only took a few more thrusts before you felt the familiar sensation of an impending orgasm bubbling up in your abdomen.

“Ken, m’ so close,” you warned, barely able to form a coherent sentence. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, understood?” He spoke, the grip he had on your hair tightening, his hand then landed a light slap to your clit.

Your knees were beginning to weaken, but his strong arms kept you upright as he roughly thrusted his hips into you; the sound of his pelvis hitting your ass creating a lewd slapping sound that echoed through your bedroom.

“Please~”, you begged him. Hot, frustrated tears forming in the corners of your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. His hand was now rubbing torturously slow circles into your sensitive nub, letting your orgasm build up, then edging you by pulling his hand away.

“You can hold on a little longer,” he grunted, his voice more gravelly than before. You could tell he was close from the way he’d twitch every time your dripping cunt clenched around him.

“I’ll let you cum if you promise to behave from now on, got it?” He said, giving a firm tug on your hair, making you moan.

“I— I promise,” you spoke, hardly able to think straight at this point. “Cum for me then, sweetheart”, he commanded, his hand now expertly rubbing at your puffy clit.

With a loud moan of his name, you came hard, this being one of the rare times you squirted all over his cock. The way your pussy convulsed around him so deliciously had him reeling.

He came almost immediately after you, his arms trapping you against his muscular body as he shivered from pleasure.

Once the two of you came down from your respective highs, he spoke, “You know I know that you flirted with Gojo on purpose just to make me jealous, right?”

As always, he had managed to see right through you and your little schemes.

a/n:

yall i have had a rough month. first of all im in the marching band so that takes up a lot of my time, and the free time i do have, i spend it sleeping.

second of all, people threatened to shoot up my school twice like why are they going for colleges now 💀

anyways i’m sorry this has been sitting in my drafts(unfinished) for an entire month. i hope you like it, im currently exhausted as im writing this so it’s not my best work

anyways thank you so much for reading!!

[divider credits: @/anitalenia]

[sinofwriting]

Sparks - Ollie Bearman

Words: 833 Word Prompt: Sparks

Masterlist | Support Me! | Sin’s Sept. Blurbs

Her hands come together, clapping, as she jumps up and down cheering.

She lets David guide her, keeping himself between her and some of the PREMA team members as they watch Ollie stop the car behind the number one spot and then get out. More cheers erupting from the movement.

He throws himself into the team and her smile somehow grows wider as she watches them all grab and pat at him, beyond happy with him. She even spots Kimi in the crowd of mechanics despite his poor race, having gotten put into the wall by someone in an overzealous move on lap three.

Ollie makes his way down and she feels David’s hands fall from her shoulders as he pats Ollie on the back before Ollie pulls her up and into a hug. She makes a squeaking sound as her feet leave the ground, but clutches at him back, his grip on her unbelievably tight and she just knows he’s going to be shaky when he gets back from the podium.

“Last weekend in F2 and you practically pulled a grand slam!” She shouts and can just barely hear Ollie laugh, his fingers tightening somehow, refusing to let her go. “You did amazing, Bear!” He laughs again, full of disbelief and then he’s slowly and carefully putting her down to yank off his helmet. “You’ll stay here with my dad for the podium right?” She nods, eagerly. “Of course.” She glances at David who looks somehow even prouder of Ollie than he usually does. “David won’t let anything happen to me.” David pats her shoulder. “Not a single hair will get touched on her head.”

As she just a few minutes later watches Ollie on the podium she can’t help but fall a little bit more in love with her best friend than she already was. He looks so happy and relieved that this is how he’s finishing out his career in Formula 2, not with a bad run of races, but with two wins, a pole position, fastest lap, and fastest in practice. It was like a weight had lifted from his shoulders.

When he finally comes back to the small drivers room that Ferrari had given him in their garage, his dad pats him on the back, ruffling his hair before excusing himself and the door shuts behind with a soft click, leaving just the two of them alone.

“You did so well, Bear.” Her soft voice makes him break, a strangled sob leaving him and she quickly wraps an arm around him, pulling his head to rest in the crook of her neck. “You did so well.” She repeats, tears of her own coming to her eyes as she feels him shaking in her hold. “I can’t,” he sobs. “I can’t believe it’s over. I’m so fucking tired.”

Her heart aches, she knows how much the media and fans saying it was odd to see him promoted when his F2 season was so poor, even after his two excellent drives in F1, had hurt him. And she knew that it had been a matter of time before he broke. She wasn’t expecting for it to happen as soon as he was out of the car and away.

She continues to hold him as he cries, her skin hot and soaked from his tears and her hips feel squeezed from the tight circle of his arms, but his sobbing has stopped, his crying is slowing, his shaking no longer.

“I don’t want to watch the race.” He mumbles against her skin and her pulse jumps. “Or debrief.” “You’ll have to do a debrief, but I’ll message Jock. And maybe your dad can talk to Rene about an informal debrief, just an email sent out tomorrow.” “That sounds nice.” He says, pulling just a bit away as he stands up straight, wiping at his face to clear it from the tears that spilled. The movement makes her hand fall away from his hair. “I’ll text him and see what he can do.”

“Can you hold me still while you do it?” Blood rushes to her face at the question, “I think it will be more of you holding me, but I’ll do my best.”

Pulling out her phone, her breath hitches as Ollie now tucks her into him.

It’s a brief text and she tries to show Ollie, but he shakes his head with a grumble and tells her to just send it. David’s response is a quick on it which she relays to Ollie.

As she puts her phone away, Ollie grumbles again and then sparks seem to fly across her skin as he puts his hands under her shirt, pressing her somehow even closer. It makes her head tilt back with a gasp.

“Bear,” Her name comes out just the same and then he’s leaning in, eyes staring into hers, both of them holding their breath and she gives a slight nod and then his lips are on hers.

[storieswithvenus]

Weather girl - Tyler Owen’s x Fem! Reader

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴

hey! sorry for taking so long off, i’ve been super busy and getting back into the swing of everything. hope you guys enjoy, it’s a bit of a rollercoaster;)

TW!!

use of y/n, reader and tyler being somewhat surprised by a tornado even though they are chasing it???, quick love confession cause i got tired lmao

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

As the cloud started to swirl, the one supercell storm now forming a small funnel, you stood watching from the beginning of the dirt path a mile away.

You stood there with your high definition camera, snapping away photos of the upcoming storm, just a few feet behind you stood Tyler Owen’s.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

You two had an unusual relationship, the two of you had grown up together. Frankly, he was your older brother’s best friend. Growing up together, you had always had some sort of tension, he had grown close to your older brother Mason in their sophomore year of school while you were a freshman. As they grew close, he was always at your house with Mason, either playing football in the back garden or playing video games in your brothers room while screaming at the screen.

You were a bit of a nerd, you knew from a young age that you wanted to work in something to do with the weather. So when you were trying to study the weather patterns around you and all you could hear was the screaming of your brother and Tyler, you did lose your mind. Stomping your way towards his room and slamming the door open, banging off the wall.

Both of them staring up at you with disbelief, watching as you throw one of your massive textbooks at them. The book smashing off the head of Tyler and as you reach for the handle of the door slamming it closed.

By the time you had graduated from university, you hadn’t been home to Texas in years. You hadn’t seen your family in years because you were too focused on your career, and it worked in your favour too.

“If we look towards the Joplin area here,” you say standing infront of the map which is covering the massive screen behind you, pointing towards that area, “you can see that there is a storm heading towards this area. Right now, it doesn’t look like anything too bad, however I will report back if it does gain the attributes to form a tornado that would touch down.” You carry on speaking before your cameraman gives you the thumbs up to finish so they can wrap up. “That’s it folks, please do keep checking the weather app for any possible updates! This is Y/N L/N signing off.”

You walk out of frame just as the director cuts. Walking straight over to your assistant who has your phone and a bottle of water waiting for you. “There’s been this number blowing your phone up, I haven’t answered of course - but they literally won’t stop phoning. I’m starting to think a fan has gotten your number.” Your assistant, Mark, says as you open the bottle of water and start drowning it to coat your throat. “There’s not much we can do if it is leaked, but i’ll check it out. You’re free to go home, I know your little ones are probably looking for you to come home” You say before leaning in to give him a hug, he thanks you profusely before running out the massive door to the carpark.

Looking down at your phone, you decide that you’re gonna phone the number back. You tap the number on your phone and put it up to your ear as it begins to ring. After 5 rings you consider hanging up, that was until you heard the number pick up.

“Hey! Is this Y/N?” the deep voice spoke after a few seconds of silence, “Hi! Uhm yeah this is she… Who is this? Why have you been spamming my phone?” You voice slightly breaking, confusion evident in your voice. “It’s.. uh-“ the voice on the phone stumbles, “It’s Tyler, you know Tyler Owen’s”.

Then it all clicked, the voice, the way he spoke, everything made sense. “Tyler, I haven’t heard from you in years..” your voice lower. “Yeah, listen, I see you on the news now, and well.. I was wondering if you’d maybe wanna join us for a few weeks storm chasing. So you can get your own experience.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“Are you sure this is safe?” you screamed at him from the passenger side of the truck, your hands gripping onto the side of the chair. He looks at you with a little laugh, as he speeds up, watching you squirm in your seat. You turn to look out the front windscreen, just as you look, you see the massive tornado cross the dirt road in front of the truck.

Your head quickly turns to his as he speeds up towards the twister. “Tyler, are you fucking crazy?” You scream over the sound of the truck speeding down the dirt path, the sound of destruction coming from the tornado. Suddenly he turns the wheel to his left, the car turning sharply down another smaller path, your body being thrown to the left as you held on for dear life.

“We need to get in front of it before we deploy the rods to hold us into the ground”, his voice still drowned out with the noise around the car. Looking out the side window, you watch as the tornado seems to be standing still.

Panic fills your body, you feel the world go into slow motion. You know what’s coming. “Tyler, deploy the rods.” Your voice quiet, close to a whisper as you couldn’t take your eyes off the storm beside you. “What?”, he questions you, before looking over to see what you were saying. His eyes moving from you to out the window your eyes were glued to, his eyes widening at what the two of you were seeing.

The truck hauls to a stop, the two of you being slightly flung forward. His hand quickly slamming down on the red button in the middle of your two seats to deploy the rods into the dirt ground below the truck.

You finally come back to earth, turning to him as you feel the truck get closer to the ground, the rods securing you into the floor. Your hand reaches for his, intertwining, before you throw your head between your legs in a brace position. Tyler’s hand squeezes yours, a last sense of safety before the tornado hit the truck.

The force of the 90mph wind hits your side of the truck first, your mouth let out a scream as the violent shaking begins to cover the entire truck. The colour of the sky outside goes from a light grey to a dark grey, close to black, in seconds.

You hear smaller items of debris hitting all around the truck, a branch hitting the window with such force you thought the window would give out and crash in on top of you. With all of your focus on the storm now surrounding you, you didn’t realise you had began to cry. The tears streaming down your face as you hold your head down and cover it with your other hand incase of something breaking a window.

You feel the violent shakes begin to slow down, becoming more gentle. Your curiosity for the better of you, your head turning up to look out the front window screen. The storm had just passed you, all the trapped air in your lungs finally cleared as you let out the biggest sigh of relief.

You look over to Tyler, he was already watching you. His smile spreading across his face, “What did you think of that?” His voice full of cheekiness, giving you a slight wink.

And all you could do, was give him a slight laugh back.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

And that’s how you ended up here, watching the now EF1 cross the field in front of you. Taking your own photos of it, and just taking in the sight of mother nature.

You feel Tyler walk up behind you, his hand making contact with your lower back. Turning to look at him, you smile as he begins to speak, “Hey weather girl, did you get any good pictures?” You smile widens, turning your head to look down at your camera as you go through the pictures to pick your best one, “Yeah I did. Got this amazing one here”, you say in a soft voice, showing the small camera screen to him.

He reaches out to your camera, his hand touching yours, a spark of electricity connecting between you two. You both look up at each other, eyes connecting, both of you looking at each other with love.

“I’m glad you decided to stay with me and the team after what I put you through in our first week”, his voice was full of truth. Your hand lays on his arm, “I would never leave after that.”

“Can I kiss you?” Your eyes slightly widen at the question he sprung into you. He could tell he surprised you, just before he was about to apologise you pulled him in. Your hand laying on his jaw as you kissed him.

You slightly pull back to make eye contact, smiling at him. His voice soft and low,

“I have loved you ever since we were kids, ever since you threw that book at us.”

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM SONGS ON MY PLAYLIST *  assorted lines from random songs, adjust as necessary

i can't forget this evening, or your face as you were leaving.

you always smile, but in your eyes your sorrow shows.

the sun is going down. it's getting dark.

you look bewildered.

i can't give anymore.

you know i want to do it again.

better things will come our way.

you were always there for me.

i know it's not mine, but i'll see if i can use it.

i see the light in your window.

you know i tried, and i'm sorry.

kiss me if you mean all the things that you say.

one night can make a difference.

please don't leave me hanging.

it's just heartbreaking.

i've got such a long way to go.

i don't want to do your dirty work.

i want you to know that i'm happy for you.

i should have known that it would let me down.

i used to dream about this town.

it's such a shame about it.

there's always magic in the air.

they're dead wrong. i know they are.

nobody's supposed to be here.

tell me what's wrong.

put your arms around me, baby.

show me where you've been.

it may sound funny, but i've come to get my money back.

i know you like what you see.

there is no way you can deny it.

you were always sure of yourself.

who's to blame?

i've had enough of walking from place to place.

you're not what we're looking for.

honestly, i'm not trying to be anybody but me.

can i see you later?

i kinda hope we get stuck.

do you think anybody's actually gonna dance to this?

the answers you seek will never be found at home.

i don't want to leave the comfort of this place.

let's make our escape.

i feel like i'm alive for the very first time.

it's been a while.

i'm not sure why i called.

i was thinking maybe later on we could get together for a while.

it's been such a long time and i really do miss your smile.

it really doesn't matter much to me.

i won't ask for promises, so you don't have to lie.

watch out. you might get what you're after.

we're in for nasty weather.

here's your ticket.

you might need a raincoat.

you can go. sleep at home tonight.

who are you?

i really want to know.

god, there's got to be another way.

it's the one good thing that i've got.

i would really, really love to stick around.

i think there's something you should know.

you made a lot of mistakes.

hey, it happens to us all.

you can do what you think is impossible.

don't close your eyes.

i want your love.

don't look back.

it's only been a week or two.

sooner or later, you'll come rolling back to me.

it gets so lonely here inside my head.

what's wrong with right here on the counter?

i had to stop for the night.

please bring me my wine.

last thing i remember, i was running for the door.

you can check out any time you like but you can never leave.

i'm just in awe of what's in front of me.

i'm sipping wine in a robe.

i look too good to be alone.

every word that i say is coming straight from the heart.

[laundrypause]

AU where loscar are in high school, Oscar's quite popular and Logan is not as popular but just as much as well-liked. One thing about Logan is he is the most oblivious human to ever exist in the entirety of mankind. People flirting with him? Nah, they're just being nice. Getting chocolates for Valentine's? They must feel bad that he doesn't have one. Notes with hearts attached to phone numbers mysteriously finding their way into his locker? Must be the people he's been partnered with for their midterms. At first, Logan's secret admirers thought he was trying to reject them without outwardly saying no to their advances. And if that really was the case, they'd back off cause yk common decency. But then they find out he actually doesn't realise that these advances are essentially what they are. Advances. So they do what seemed like a perfectly reasonable solution and asked one of Logan's best friends to help them out because maybe their flirtations were too general. Too normal. They needed an insider who knew what Logan liked other than fishing and cars. Things that made his heart flutter, his cheeks blush. They wanted him to know that they were interested in him, not just being friendly. So who else to ask none other than Oscar to help them out.

Oscar wouldn't say he was Logan's bestest best closest friend who knew everything about him down to a T. That position was occupied. But Oscar thinks he knows Logan enough to try and be a Cupid-associate per say and help these poor souls who decided to fall for Oblivious Man™. He doesn't know what the tightening of his chest or the flood of fire trickling through his body means but it's probably the odd gloop of greens the cafeteria calls lunch he ate. Not for any other reason at all.

For about 2 weeks straight, Oscar's the designated Loge(Love) Guru, attempting to inconspicuously ask Logan questions and relaying pieces of said information to the admirers that fit the list of questions they'd emailed him. Yes, emailed him like social media didn't exist and this was the early 2000s or something. The list of questions include:

What's Logan's favourite color?

Is he a steak kinda guy?

His ideal type in 3 words?

Coach or Gucci?

And other questions Oscar deemed.... he'd rather not ask (let's leave it at that).

Logan's a little confused about the sudden influx of questions hurled at him by Oscar but deigns it harmless enough. If it meant he'd get to spend more time with Oscar, he'd take it. Who's there to judge him? Exactly. No one.

It's been weeks ever since the admirers have asked Oscar for help and still...no dice. It seemed like after they'd requested Oscar's expertise, Logan's become even more detached to their pursuits, which should definitely be impossible but it's Logan. He always somehow manages to defy the odds. But maybe this is a sign of some sort, that Logan will never manage to see through the fog and accept that it's possible for people to experience attraction towards him.

When they say this to Oscar, however, he's weirdly defensive. Saying how could they just give up that easily, if they're actually serious about Logan why are they not doing anything more, that actually they were asking the wrong questions. That did they not realize that Logan wasn't that much of a materialist? Their actions need to have meaning, their gifts need to convey a message. They can't just throw a designer watch at him expecting him to know their intentions. Hell, he wouldn't even accept the damn gift because oh why would you spend so much on me? I can't accept this.

Nor can they can't just give him flowers all willy-nilly, just grabbing them off a shelf because it's the most expensive. Purple so obviously clashes with him and didn't they remember when Oscar said Logan liked yellow? They should've gotten him a yellow bouquet with greens and blues complimenting it, yellow because he was as bright as the sun, always exuding warmth and blues and greens because they were the colors of his eyes and wrapped with delicate pink crêpe paper because that's the color of his cheeks whenever he flushes and-

Oh my God, they were dumbasses. Idiots, fools, blockheads. Of course Oscar's 'advice' didn't work. It didn't work because he liked him. He liked Logan. Shit, it was all starting to make sense now, why none of the help Oscar lent truly...helped. Because he didn't want to help them. Because he liked Logan and didn't want them to- God how were they so dumb? It's so obvious now, so clear. The way Oscar's eyes always managed to soften when Logan was in his radar, the immediate hardening of his body, muscles taut whenever someone says something less than friendly to the American, ready to jump into a fight like an aggravated cat or even the way he always seemed to be the first person in line to lend Logan a shoulder when he's tired out of his mind, staving off sleep just to do one more calc question.

Always the one forcing him to take care of himself whenever Logan forgets to. God, they were complaining about Logan being the oblivious one but how about them? Being completely blind to the obvious lovesick simp that was still going on about how the direction of the quirk of Logan's mouth could clearly tell you about the mood he's in.

Oscar, the most discreetly obvious about his feelings. So discreet, he managed to go unnoticed by the admirers until now. So discreet, he himself doesn't realize the extent of what he's feeling for Logan isn't just platonic.

[thatlittlefangirl]

Lily is a shitty friend because she refused to be friends with a guy who was a fucken racist to everyone but her? Would you defend a white person who liked one black girl but called every other black person a racial slur? Snape was a shitty character. The only people who can sympathize with him are those that have the same hatred within their hearts and can justify his actions. He was a horrible friend that got his ex best friend and husband killed, and bullied children because he was piece of 💩

Erm actually 🤓☝

Lily is a shitty friend because she refused to be friends with a guy who was a fucken racist to everyone but her?

She actually was a shitty friend because she smiled at her best friend being exposed

But too late; Snape had directed his wand straight at James; there was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of James’s face, spattering his robes with blood. James whirled about; a second flash of light later, Snape was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of graying underpants. Many people in the small crowd watching cheered. Sirius, James, and Wormtail roared with laughter. Lily, whose furious expression had twitched for an instant as though she was going to smile, said, “Let him down!”

Excused his bullies' behaviour

“I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are.” The intensity of his gaze made her blush. “They don’t use Dark Magic, though.” She dropped her voice. “And you’re being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow, and James Potter saved you from whatever’s down there—”

And ended up with his bully in the end, don't tell me "She didn't owe him anything", anyone who had a friend who was bullied will tell you that they wouldn't date their ex-best friend's bully. She had the right to leave Severus, I am not against it, but she had a part in the breaking up but as always didn't take responsibility of it (she actually does it a lot somehow).

Would you defend a white person who liked one black girl but called every other black person a racial slur?

No, because that's not the case here. Here is a mixed-race boy, who has been put into a white neighbourhood, there the white people are pretty nice to him but will be mean to black people, they tell him to join them. He knows that his best friend is black but since other black people were mean to him (his father and his best friend's sister), he doesn't see anything wrong with it. Know the difference (not that I excuse racism but here is a different case than the one you're pointing out).

The only people who can sympathize with him are those that have the same hatred within their hearts and can justify his actions.

Liking a character doesn't mean you support what he does, I love Bellatrix and Lucius, but I do not support their pureblood supremacy views and think they have no redeeming qualities whatsoever, I like them because I like villains. No one justify his actions, they explain his reasons, is it justifying? No, because it's not right, but why liking a complex character if you don't understand his complexity?

He was a horrible friend that got his ex best friend and husband killed

Actually, their whole friendship was toxic, Lily wasn't an angel, Severus wasn't a demon, they both were human and had their flaws. Stop pointing to Severus and ignore Lily's faults. Do I really have to go back on the "Severus got Jily killed!!1!1!"?? Many other people explained this part already, go see their blogs instead.

and bullied children because he was piece of 💩

He actually bullied children because he wasn't totally right mentally, and he mostly is just blunt with kids because yeah Potions is extra dangerous and if you fuck one single thing up you could blow the whole ass school. Does it make his insults right? No. Does it make his temper more understandable? Yeah.

Thanks for that ask, it was my first snater ask, I'm so happy I'll frame it in my room <3

[fedorah-the-explorah]

going off of the sheer amount of fanfiction i've read saying the contrary, I think this may be considered an unpopular opinion, but I firmly believe that player is like scary good at lying. I don't think he particularly likes lying, but he can, you know? like on the rare occasion that he has to, carmen will listen to him lie straight through his teeth like it's nothing and get really really concerned. because like. hello? where did you learn to do that? sir?

I don't know, watching s2e7 is so funny to me because this is the first time he's interacted with someone outside the team for a caper, and he immediately gets into the deception, fake accent and all. no hesitation. carmen switches the plan on him, and he's the one who has to relay that to gray while still maintaining the lie. and he does it! full confidence! and when graham pushes back, player pulls out the "haha yeah the crowds going crazy :)" and gets him to go along.

and hey! this plan was fucking ludicrous and stupid. I have such a love-hate relationship with this episode. it is everything to me. it's fucking idiotic. it's beautiful. it's a god damn joke. when the plan DOES eventually fall apart, that is not on player because buddy did his best with the silliest plan known to mankind. okay? he was ON it in this episode, I love it.

it's also the screening he did during the second act of the pilot. "strange people kept answering your phone!" and you kept calling?? did you have these silly goofy little lies already made? or were you just coming up with them on the fly?

or what about in season 4 when zack and ivy come to his school posing as exterminators? they can't agree on a lie and arrive at making up a new kind of insect, and player is so quick to back it up. the embodiment of "yes, and?" kid can roll with the punches, it's great.

like, there's a reason he and carmen are best friends. she was raised to be a thief and was pretty much born for their line of work, but player is kind of perfectly made for it as well. that's a guy who can continue a bit. his confidence with this stuff is both impressive and reckless, and it has GOT to keep carmen up at night. I love him.

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Harley Quinn, former bad guy, anti-hero and unemployed therapist chases after Nightwing (Dick Grayson) as he tries to get away from her while on patrol.

Nightwing: Stop chasing me!

Harley: Then have a chat with me!

Nightwing: How did you find me!

Harley: Babs told me.

Nightwing stops running causing Harley to halt her running as well. He puts his index finger up and presses his communication device.

Nightwing: Babs, what the heck?

Oracle: She begged me and I can't say no when she pinpoints my mental health issues! Just let her spend some time with you.

Nightwing looks down at Harley who has a big smile on her face. He runs the other direction as Poison Ivy walks over to the group while watching 'Little Shop of Horrors' on her phone.

Ivy: He caved yet?

Harley: Not now, babes. Follow me.

Harley chasses after Nightwing. Her girlfriend casually walked behind her.

Harley: Stop running! Why are you running?!

Nightwing: Because I don't want you touching me! I am not a piece of meat!

Harley: I'm sorry, I wasn't aware you were uncomfortable with the butt smacks!

Nightwing: I was very vocal about it!

Harley: Do you think that stems with some trauma in your past?

Nightwing: Stop therapizing me!

Ivy (pausing her movie): This is the smartest approach, Harley.

Harley: Ivy, not now!

Nightwing runs around Ivy and uses her as shield, then shoves her on Harley.

Nightwing: You chasing me doesn't prove your point.

Harley (pushing Ivy off of her): Let me make amends.

Nightwing(whining): NOOOO!

Harley: I made a full bill of health at Arkham. And I may not have the diploma, but I can be your-

Nightwing (in angry romani): Me sem bahtalo tumare progresosa, numaj te aven dur mandar!

Harley: What?

Nightwing stops at a fence and turns to Harley.

Nightwing: I said, "I am happy with your progress, but stay away from me for now!" It... It will take some time. Okay?

Nightwing jumps a fence and keeps running.

Nightwing (over his shoulder): Bye!

Ivy: See ya, kid.

Harley: But... Shit!

Harley tries to climb the fence, but Ivy, best friend and girlfriend uses a vine on her hip before she jumps the fence.

Ivy: Harley, don’t do that impulsive thought.

Harley: But they need a therapist. All of them, Jacey ran from me, now Nightwing? Why can’t I catch a break?

Ivy: If I may, it has something to do with working with the joker, who killed one of them, tortures the batfamily on an annual basis... oh and you won’t take a hint to give them space.

Harley glares at her girlfriend.

Harley: It was a rhetorical question!

Ivy (chuckling dryly): Aww, Harls, you know I don’t care about that. He did say it takes time, he's saying you have a chance, but at this moment of time, no. Remember I’m not dumb either. I worked more in science for botany over what you do, but I can see when someone doesn’t want to talk or want your therapy services.

Harley groans, bending back: You’re right, I’ll give 'em space. Plus you didn't say I slept with my professor.

Ivy: Please, you wouldn't degrade yourself like that... Get with a homicidal lunatic who thinks clown makeup is scary, but you are not the type who tries to get easy A’s in school.

Harley: Damn straight!

[hayanwulf]

IronStrange:

One of them performs CPR on the other.

Fun fact: a defibrillator can’t actually revive a patient who ‘flatlined’.

Shocking, I know. I guess that’s modern media misrepresentation for you.

PS: At the cost of being a lil hypocritical.. the chance of getting an unshockable cardiac arrest (aka flatline or ‘asystole’) in our scenario, and then also surviving it with CPR, is ridiculously, laughably low. So, Stephen really shouldn’t have survived here, or flatlined in the first place... But hey, the movie itself threw realism out the window, so you can’t tell me shit.

The empty mug comically slipped from his grip, meeting the floor in an ear-deafening shatter.

Tony did not hear it, however, not over the pounding of heartbeat in his ears that immediately followed the almost-heart attack he got at the sight of a literal portal on fire inside his workshop, out of which stumbled his ex-fiance who he had not seen for eight months, hands clutching bloody chest, face drained of color and contorted in pain, steps staggering and making him crash against an equipment.

“The hallucinations are getting crazy,” Tony murmured.

“It’s not a hallucination, Boss,” FRIDAY announced, an urgency to her voice, pulling Tony out of his disbelief-induced state of shock — bless his AI. “Doctor Strange needs immediate medical attention! He’s been stabbed on the chest.”

Tony’s heart only lurched further at the last bit, but he forced his feet to move, shoved all thoughts to the back of his mind, beelining straight for his very mortally injured ex-fiance who was now leaning against god knew what, looking up at Tony with wild, terrified eyes.

“Cardiac Tamponade,” Stephen muttered, his voice weak with a bit of tremble to it, as Tony came to his side to carefully support him. “There’s blood in the pericardial—”

“Shut up!” Tony snapped, felt Stephen flinch against him, and immediately cursed himself for lashing out like that for no reason. He just.. god, this was the first time Tony was seeing Stephen after seven goddamn months, and it was to find him injured — mortally injured — and the first thing Stephen spoke to him was godforsaken diagnosis of how severely close to death he was.

He looked back at the portal once and suppressed a shudder, before shifting his focus back on Stephen to help lead him over to the small infirmary that was built right next to his workshop. “Just.. what the fuck, Stephen?”

Stephen winced, throwing a glance behind his shoulder at the portal, misunderstanding what Tony truly meant. “Sorry, that’s..” He made them pause and waved a hand at the tear in reality behind them.

Tony watched in awe for a moment as the portal quickly shrank and disappeared, remnants of glowing orange dust in the air the only evidence that something had even existed there a moment ago.

“What just—” Tony cut himself off. Not important right now.

He shook his head to dispel all other thoughts and focus solely on Stephen because oh god there was so much blood, Stephen was hurt, Stephen was dying—

“FRIDAY!” He called out, voice wavering with the panic that grew in him with each passing moment as he led Stephen to the adjacent infirmary.

“There is no medical staff at the Compound, Boss..”

“Why!?” Tony asked as his heartbeat spiked at the realization, even though he already knew why.

No one lived in the Compound anymore. All of the staff had been long since dismissed.

As he led Stephen towards the nearest operating table, Tony spared only a brief moment to wonder why, despite there being nobody and nothing in this large establishment, was it that Tony continued to stay here.

He helped Stephen lay flat on the operating table and began to undo.. whatever it was that Stephen was wearing, all the while chanting under his breath, “I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this..”

“Tony,” Stephen spoke, grabbing hold of Tony’s wrist and looking him in the eye. “You can, I know it.”

Tony helplessly shook his head because he couldn’t. How could Stephen think that he could?

But, god, there was no time, no choices.

Stephen either had him, or nothing.

Tony felt the exact moment Stephen’s grip on his arm grew weak, saw his eyes flicker as he fought to keep them open.

“I trust you..” Stephen said weakly, and then passed out, his hand going limp over Tony’s.

Tony stared for a moment.

“Boss?”

FRIDAY’s voice pulled him out of his daze. He looked up at the heart graphs, then back at Stephen’s limp body, and then back up at the heart graphs to be absolutely extra sure he hadn’t lost Stephen yet. His mind was nothing but panicked haze and adrenaline, and logic fought emotion as he struggled to simply act, to do something because he was losing Stephen right in front of his eyes and oh god he needed to save him—

“FRIDAY, w-what—” He swallowed as his voice wavered, “what do I do?”

“Boss, you are close to having a panic attack—”

“And he’s close to dying, dammit! What do I do!?”

“He needs a pericardiocentesis.”

“What the fuck is that?”

“Just get the needle, second shelf from the top.”

FRIDAY guided him through the surprisingly simple, yet downright horrifying procedure of stabbing a needle straight into Stephen’s heart to drain out the blood stuck in his pericardium, decompressing the pressure on his heart. There was a large stab wound on the left side of his chest. The sight of so much blood — of Stephen’s blood — made Tony feel lightheaded, its suffocating metallic scent tangible in his mouth, tasting like copper, all the while his eyes watched the screens of vitals with sharp attention, witnessing as Stephen’s heartbeat grew weaker and weaker, every digit of drop in the heart rate making dread pool heavier in his stomach, making his gut twist sickeningly.

He was holding Stephen’s delicate, precious life in his hands and god, it was terrifying.

How did you do this every single day? Tony silently asked the man lying unconscious in front of him, the back of his eyes stinging as tears formed in them.

If Stephen died now, here, like this, Tony could never forgive himself.

It was those thoughts that roared loud in his mind, in tandem with the beeping of the heart monitor, as he held onto the needle drawing out a nauseating amount of blood.

Even after most of the clogged blood from the walls had been drained out, Stephen’s heart remained weak, his low heart rate not recovering.

And then it happened, just as he pulled out the needle.

Tony’s entire world came to a halt at that sharp, ear-deafening beep of the heart monitor.

“You need to start CPR, now!” FRIDAY spoke up immediately, voice loud and clear over the shrill beep.

“I—the defibrillat—”

“That won’t work, you have to do CPR!”

Tony didn’t question her. He trusted his babygirl, trusted her to help him save Stephen’s life, and moved up to Stephen’s face, tilting his head up, chin held in his hand.

30 compressions, 2 breaths.

He would not lose Stephen. He would not.

Steadying his resolve as he inhaled a deep breath, he pinched Stephen’s nose and then dipped down to seal their mouths together, before blowing into Stephen’s mouth, watching from the corner of his eye as Stephen’s chest rose. He repeated the action, blowing a second rescue breath into Stephen’s mouth, and then quickly moved to his chest.

Taking care to not place his hands over the stab wound currently sealed with nanites, he pushed down forcibly at Stephen’s chest and set up a fast pace, counting the compressions in his head, acutely aware of his speed as well as the relentless beeping of the heart monitor that continued to echo in the background.

After 30 compressions, he repeated the two rescue breaths, and moved to performing compressions again.

Seven.. eight.. nine..

Tony froze when the incessant beeping of heart monitor stopped, to be replaced by a barely there pulse, the graph displaying a weak heart rhythm that was all over the place.

Tony could’ve cried right then. Maybe he did.

“Don’t stop,” FRIDAY’s voice instructed him, and so he didn’t, continuing with the chest compressions.

Two more cycles passed by the time FRIDAY said, “You can shock him now, Boss.”

Tony didn’t waste another second in fetching the defibrillator. He applied the conductive gel over the two paddles before placing one on the right side of Stephen’s sternum and the other below his left nipple — thank the science gods Stephen’s injury didn’t get in the way of their placement — and let FRIDAY decide the appropriate voltage. He pressed down hard on the paddles, steering clear of any other contact to Stephen’s body as the equipment delivered shock.

The heart rhythm graph reacted immediately, and Tony watched in awe as the entire electrical activity was reset and started producing a much healthier, stable rhythm. The pulse reacted to it, quickly gaining strength.

Tony’s knees nearly buckled from the sheer intensity of relief that washed over him, watching Stephen’s heart gain its strength back right in front of his eyes.

Stephen’s eyes flew open with a start and a gasp, and Tony was immediately by his side, the defibrillator abandoned. He panted, eyes glazed and darting wildly at first, until they slowly regained focus. Tony placed a hand on Stephen’s arm, wanting to help him, wanting to give him something to anchor himself to.

But mostly to reassure his own self that Stephen was still here.

“God, that feels weird in the astral plane,” Stephen murmured, his voice a little raspy, before a weak laugh escaped his lips.

“You think this is— wow.” Stephen was laughing. It hadn’t been five minutes since Tony had pulled this man out of the claws of death and now here he was, laughing. Tony felt his body vibrate, his inside burning up with this infuriating mix of anger and.. and.. ugh! He didn’t know.

Never had he felt something so strong, so nauseatingly gut-churning before.

Christ, was this the anger that Stephen felt every time Tony had looked death in the eyes and walked the other way with a victorious smirk on his lips? Was this the exasperation he had always seen in Rhodey’s face when Tony had dismissed his own near-death experiences? Was this the horror Pepper felt every time, as she watched Tony’s gruesome injuries be patched up by Stephen?

“Tony..?” Stephen called out in a small, uncertain voice, causing Tony to turn back to him. Whatever Stephen found there, it made him flinch. Good. After a second, he tentatively added, “I’m.. sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Tony snapped. “You.. you fucking walk out on me without ever telling anything, not even a message, a note, nothing. A-and the next time I see you, you’re walking out of a wormhole with.. with a stab on your chest, bleeding all over my lab. And you’re sorry. You fucking died, Stephen!”

Tony realized that he was visibly shaking now, his breath coming in hitches as thick tears streamed down his face. He sat himself down on the edge of Stephen’s table, wiping both his hands over his entire face, just trying to collect himself. God, it felt like someone was squeezing his heart trying to make it burst.

What would he have done, had Stephen died here today? Because of his inadequacy, because he didn’t know what to do, how to act fast, how to save the life of his fiance?

A shaky hand landed on his arm, making him remove his hands from his face to turn and look down at Stephen.

His ex-fiance had a remorseful look on his face as he interlocked their fingers.

“You did an amazing job, Tony. You saved me.”

Some of Tony’s tense energy melted, and he exhaled a shaky breath with closed eyes.

Stephen was alive. Stephen was here. Because Tony had managed to save him.

“Thank you,” Stephen added after a moment.

Tony opened his eyes and glanced at Stephen from the corner of his eye. “Fuck you.”

He felt it more than heard when Stephen’s chest rumbled with a laugh, and Stephen immediately winced.

Right, the wound must hurt like a bitch.

“Hold on,” Tony said and went to fetch a fresh needle and a vial of painkiller.

A minute later, he unceremoniously dumped the used needle on the appropriate bin as he spoke, “So what’s up with the glowing wormholes and your LARP wizard costume?” He leaned himself against an equipment near Stephen’s table, who was now sitting upright, putting the said LARP costume back on. “Or do we wanna talk about who wanted to roleplay too realistic murder mystery with you? Oh, I have a better idea. How about we start from where the hell did you fuck off to in Nepal?”

Stephen winced, and this time it wasn’t from the physical pain. “I shouldn’t have left you like that?”

“Yeah? Well, good thing that I’m used to being left behind by the people I trust,” Tony spoke, voice laced with venom. A memory flashed in his mind. Blood tainting the white of snow, the feel of metal growing lethally cold all around his body, the dead weight of a dead arc reactor sitting over his chest.

He suppressed a shiver, shoving the memory away.

Stephen, of course, knew nothing of the said memory, and a hint of confusion mixed with hurt flashed over his features. “I.. I’m really sorry, Tony. I have to go.”

Tony blinked, doing a double take of what he’d just heard. “I’m sorry, did you just say that you have to go?”

“Yes.”

“Where!?” Tony snapped, not quite able to hide the irritation in his voice.

Stephen bit his lower lip, expression twisting in contemplation, clearly weighing his options about what he wanted to tell Tony. He then sighed and looked up at Tony.

Tony didn’t know what answer he had expected to hear.

‘I moved on.’ ‘I have another life now, one without you.’ ‘Stop trying to follow me.’

But what he got wasn’t something he’d have expected to hear in a thousand years.

“I was learning magic in Nepal.”

It left him staring dumbfounded, simply trying to grasp what he was hearing.

Stephen sighed again, averting his eyes. “You saw the portal, right?”

Tony swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling too dry as a new, terrifying kind of realization dawned on him. “Yeah.”

Stephen closed his eyes. “There are.. more like us. Good and bad. And the bad ones are going to try to destroy this world, with magic.” He got off the table then, getting on his feet, and stood a foot away from Tony, looking him in the eyes. “I have to go, Tony.”

Too much. This was all too much. First he watched Stephen stumble out of the goddamn portal, watched him die on the table, resuscitated him.. now he was learning that..

Magic.

Stephen was magic.

He’d been learning magic on Nepal, all this time, while Tony was left fumbling alone trying to gather even the tiniest scrap of information on this man, just enough to know that he was fine, that he was alive.

Tony was left with an odd mix of unadulterated fury and debilitating fear bubbling beneath his skin.

Hesitantly, Stephen reached out and took one of Tony’s hands in his shaky grip, brought it to his mouth, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on the back on his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said one last time and let go of Tony’s hand, turning to walk away.

Tony caught his arm before he had fully turned, making him pause and look back at Tony.

“I’m coming too,” Tony declared, letting his determination shine in his tear-streaked eyes.

Stephen slowly shook his head. “There will be magic, Tony.”

Tony spread his arms, summoning Mark XLVII, which flew into the infirmary from his workshop, opened up and quickly wrapped itself around Tony’s body in one quick, flawless motion, only leaving his head uncovered. He could see it in Stephen’s awestruck expression that he was impressed by its smoothness and elegance.

“I’m coming,” Tony repeated, “and that’s final.”

Coming because he would not back down in the face of magic. Coming because he had a duty to this world.

Coming because he would not let Stephen walk into danger all by himself.

Stephen looked at him from one eye to the other, swallowed, and nodded once.

“Close your eyes, I have to open a portal.”

Tony did, trusting Stephen.