#but you don’t know what we’ve endured before

[tchouamenii]

why is no one talking about denmark’s new third kit???¿🫣

#there has been SO much talk about all the ugly nike kits #and yet no one is talking about this #it’s just #and no you never go wrong with all black #but you don’t know what we’ve endured before #this is beautiful #anyways just wanted to let you all know #and i miss you #den nt #denmark nt #denmark #christian eriksen #simon kjaer #daniel wass #joakim maehle #nations league #lots of tags #sorry #my danish boys

[corroded-hellfire]

Man of My Dreams - Eddie Munson x Reader

Note: I’m not sure why this formatted oddly, so I apologize. 

Summary: When you friends find out you had a dirty dream, they gang up on you to find out who it was about.

Warnings: mentions of sex obviously, language, insecurity, i think that’s it?

Words: 4.5k

“Ugh, I did not sleep well.” You pull down the passenger seat visor in Nancy’s car and inspect your eyes in the mirror. They look much more alert after rubbing them a few times with the heel of your hand.

           “Did you make her sleep on the floor?” Nancy looks at Robin in the rearview mirror, pursing her lips at your friend. Nancy had just picked the two of you up from Robin’s house after you’d spent the night. You were all headed to Steve’s house now, you older gang of teens crashing together for a night of junk food and even junkier movies.

           “No, I didn’t! She slept next to me,” Robin says. She looks down and picks at her fingernails, mumbling, “Sounded like you had a good sleep, though.”

           It’s the way your face burns from pink to scarlet more than Robin’s comment that catches Nancy’s interest. She smirks at you out of the corner of her eye, and you swear Robin would be dead if there wasn’t a witness sitting right next to you.

           “Ooh, what does that mean?” Nancy croons.

           “What are you talking about, Robin?” you ask. You sure as hell remembered your dream, but you weren’t aware you vocalized anything to reveal the dirty nature of it.

           “Oh, don’t play dumb,” Robin says. “You may not snore, but you sure were making other noises in your sleep.”

           As Nancy’s smirk grows, you drop your head into your hands with a groan. Nancy reaches over and jabs her finger in your shoulder.

           “Who were you dreaming of, huh?” Nancy asks.

           “Not important,” you mumble into your hands.

           “I think it is,” Robin chimes up.

           “Why?” you groan out.

           “Because we’re your best friends and we’re nosy,” Robin answers.

           “Oh, come on,” Nancy says when you shake your head. “It’s not that embarrassing. It’s happened to all of us.”

           “Yeah?” you ask, peeking at her from behind your hands. “You slept next to one of your best friends and got caught having a sex dream?”

           “Well, no,” Nancy admits. “But we’ve all had a dream like that!”

           “Not me,” Robin says.

           You turn around in your seat to glare at her. “Then I hope you have one at the most inconvenient time possible.” She blows a kiss at you, and you wrinkle your nose at her before turning back around.

           “Who was it?” Nancy asks again.

           “Can’t we just drop it?” You rest your forehead against the cool glass of the window as Nancy pulls into Steve’s driveway. Your stomach was already in knots knowing you were going to see the object of your dream’s desire tonight, and this was making it worse.

           “You know I’ll just bring it up in front of the guys,” Robin says.

           “Robin!”

           “Oh my God,” Nancy says as she puts the car in park. “Was it about one of them?”

           You unclick your seatbelt and shove the car door open. “I hate you both,” you shout at them as you slam the door behind you.

           “Should we take that as a yes?” Robin asks. Nancy shrugs at her and they both climb out of the car after you.

           Robin jogs to catch up to you and throws her arm over your shoulders. Your finger stabs Steve’s doorbell before you cross your arms over your chest. It wasn’t bad enough that you were completely in love with Eddie – and had been for years – but now you have to endure this from your friends with him in the same house. This wasn’t the first dream you’d had about Eddie in that manner, it just happened to be the first one you were caught having.

           The dream floats back to the front of your mind as you wait for the door to open. Eddie’s hands everywhere. His mouth on your throat. His bare chest pressed right up against yours. You roll your shoulders back, knocking Robin’s arm off in the process, as you try to shake the dream back.

           The door swings open and Steve greets you three with a smile that makes Robin roll her eyes.

           “Hello, ladies,” he says.

           “Stop flirting,” Robin says as she passes by him and into the house.

           Steve scoffs and watches Robin as she passes. “I’m not flirting.”

           “It’s really only one out of two modes you have,” Robin calls back.

           Nancy chuckles and follows in after Robin. Steve turns to look at you and you shrug.

           “The other mode is protective, in case you were wondering,” you tell him. You pat him on the shoulder before sliding past him as well.

           Music blares from the living room ahead and you feel your palms start to sweat. It’s better than what was wet last night, but you’re trying not to think about that. The blaring guitar notes floating your way can only mean the metal head of your dreams is already here. You were so focused on squabbling with your friends when you arrived that you hadn’t even noticed his van.

           “Jesus Christ,” Steve says, walking up behind you. “I leave the room for ten fucking seconds, and he gets to the stereo.”

           You giggle as you walk into the room, greeted by the sight of Eddie laying flat on the couch, air drumming to the beating solo at this point in whatever song this is. Steve turns down the volume and Eddie whines in protest. He rolls off the couch in classic Eddie dramatic fashion and pushes himself up to his feet. His face lights up when he sees you and it’s impossible to ignore the fluttering happening several places in your body.

           “Finally!” He comes forward and throws his arms around you, tugging your body against his. His warmth seeps into you and you try to fight the blush. No need to give your friends further clues who your little dream was about. “Being here alone with Steve was awful.”

           “You’ve been here ten minutes,” Steve says.

           “And it was agony,” Eddie assures you, looking you straight in the eyes. You laugh and playfully shove him off you. He smirks and refuses to let you fully leave him, throwing his arm to hang around your neck.

           “Where’s the pizza?” Robin asks as she drops down on the couch that Eddie just vacated.

           “On it’s way,” Steve answers.

           “What movies did you manage to nab from the store?” Nancy asks.

“You make it sound like I stole from work,” Steve says. “I’ll have you know, I am a model employee.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re an employee who looks like a model,” you say with a smirk.

Steve points his finger at you as he crosses the room towards the television. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“Hmm,” Robin hums. “So, she thinks Steve looks like a model.”

She smirks at you, and you narrow your eyes at her. Don’t you mouth to her.

Eddie notices your glare at your friend and frowns.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

Robin raises her eyebrows at you and if looks could kill, Robin would be no more.

“Robin, don’t,” Nancy mumbles to her. But not quiet enough.

“Don’t what?” Steve asks as he goes through the collection of VHS tapes in his lap.

“Nothing.” Robin says it, but it couldn’t possibly sound less convincing.

“Oh, come on.” Eddie jostles your shoulder and pouts. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” you reiterate to him.

The doorbell rings and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Get that for me, will you, Robin?” Steve says from the floor.

“I don’t have any money for a tip.”

“Eddie?” Steve asks.

Eddie pats his pockets with his free hand and shrugs. “Coming up empty too, man.”

“I’ve got it,” Nancy says.

“Thank you,” Steve says, pointedly looking at Robin and Eddie as Nancy leaves the room.

“Now what’s going on?” Eddie asks as he shakes you again. Knots tighten in your stomach because you know Eddie, and he’s not going to let it go.

“She just had a weird dream,” Robin says. “That’s all, dude.”

It would’ve been convincing enough to end the conversation, had Steve not kept it going.

“Like a nightmare?”

You open your mouth to answer but no sound comes out. Eddie smirks at your silence, taking it as a confession of some sort.

“Sex dream?” he asks as Nancy walks back into the room, pizza boxes in her arms.

“Robin!” She chides.

You hide your face in your hands as Nancy unintentionally confirms Eddie’s suspicion. The smirk on his face grows and he wraps both arms around you, squeezing you in his embrace.

“Oh, Nance,” you groan.

“What?” she asks innocently as she sets the pizzas down.

“Robin didn’t let that slip. You did,” Steve says with a laugh.

“I what?” Her eyes double in size as she stares at you with dread.

“Yep,” Eddie confirms as he keeps his tight grip on you. “Thank you for affirming that our innocent little friend over here had a dirty dream. Now, if you could tell us about who, I know I’d really appreciate it.”

Your face burns red, and you try to push yourself out of Eddie’s arms, to no avail. He chuckles and pulls you against his chest, laying his head on top of yours.

“Oh God, I am so sorry,” Nancy says. “And I don’t know, Eddie. But I wouldn’t tell you if I did.”

“Party pooper,” Steve complains.

“Can we eat?” you mumble against Eddie’s chest. “And just let this go? Please?”

Eddie pulls back so he can look down at you.

“You really think it’s possible for me to let it go?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“For me?” You pout, face still like a tomato.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Not even for you.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you take advantage of his distraction to slip out of his arms.

You back up into Steve’s chest though, as he’d come up behind you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you groan again. You drop your head back against his shoulder and he rocks you from side to side.

“You’re stuck with us, babe,” Steve says. “You might as well tell us and get it over with.”

The friendship you have with both guys is amazing. You love how close you are with them, and how your whole gang is able to tease and mess with each other on a daily basis. But in the rare times like this, where the two bros ganged up on you, it was mentally exhausting.

“I think I’ll walk home,” you say.

“Oh, come on,” Robin says. “We’re all friends here. Tell us who.”

In your head, you add Robin to your shit list.

“Mr. Evans?” Steve asks. “Half the girls at school have a crush on him.”

“Ew, no,” you deny. It was a mistake, because now you’re engaged in this conversation about who it is.

“Why is this so embarrassing for girls?” Steve asks. “I’ll sit here and tell you all the girls I’ve had sex dreams about.”

“Thank you, Steve, but we’d all like to keep our appetites tonight,” Robin says.

“And we’d all like to get out of here before morning,” Eddie adds.

Managing to slip out of Steve’s grip, you walk over to Nancy and stand behind her. She’s too small to hide you behind her frame, but she’s the only one you feel is on your side.

“You’re the only one I like,” you mumble in her ear.

“I’m so sorry,” she reiterates to you quietly.

“It’s okay,” you assure her. You know she never would’ve done it on purpose.

“Kevin Sanders?” Robin asks. “Because I think he likes you.”

“Ugh, you can do so much better than him,” Eddie says.

“No,” you say. Figuring this would go on for a while, you slink over to the couch opposite Robin and plop down on it.

“At least narrow it down for us,” Steve says.

“Why would I do that?” you snap back.

“Because you love us?” Eddie gives you his best puppy dog eyes and you have to avert his gaze.

“Nancy had an interesting theory in the car,” Robin says. You roll onto your stomach and hide your face in the cushions as she continues. “She thought it might’ve been about one of you guys.”

“Really?” Steve drawls. You don’t have to look at either of the guys to know they have matching self-satisfied smirks on their faces.

“I hate you all,” you call loud enough for them to hear over your face smooshed against the soft material.

Eddie’s boots clomp over to you, and he plops down on the floor in front of you.

“Sweetheart, come on,” he says. “We’re all just joking with you.”

“Are we?” Steve asks, followed by a huff of pain. Hopefully from Nancy hitting him.

“The pizza’s going to get cold,” Nancy says. “Come on, guys.”

Cardboard is shuffled around, and you hear your friends taking slices out. Except Eddie. He’s still sitting on the floor next to you. You turn your head to peak at him and he’s smiling at you. Your face flushes again as your stomach twists in excitement.

“Alright,” you hear Steve through a mouth full of pizza. “We’ve got Saturday Night Fever, Grease, Blow Out. Jesus Robin, are these all John Travolta movies?”

“I may have been bribed,” Robin answers. From where you’re laying you can see her give a pointed look to Nancy, who shrugs and gives her best innocent look.

“At least it’s not Tom Cruise again,” Steve mutters.

“Grease is a musical, but what are the others?” Robin asks.

“Saturday Night Fever is dancing. Other than that, I have no idea,” Steve says. “And it looks like Blow Out is a thriller or slasher kind of flick.”

“Slasher,” you and Eddie vote at the same time. He smirks and gives you a wink, causing the twisting of your stomach to increase tenfold.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Robin says.

“Sound good, Nance?” Steve asks.

“John Travolta is in it, so it sounds good to me,” she answers.

Steve pops the tape in the VHS player, while Eddie stands and wraps his arms around your middle. He yanks upward and you flail against his grip, unable to help the laugh that comes out. He manages to scoop you up and slide underneath you, placing you down on his lap. You huff but relax back against him anyway.

“Pizza?” Nancy asks you.

“Yes, please,” you say.

Nancy puts a slice on a plate for you and one for Eddie. She hands them to you before sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table to enjoy her own piece. Eddie rests his plate on your thighs and folds up the slice, shoving half of it in his mouth in one bite. Steve presses play before going to sit next to Robin on the couch.

You take a bite of your pizza, but your jaw stops mid-bite as you hear moaning come from the television. Your head shoots up to see scantily clad girls in lingerie, before the screen flickers to a full-on sex scene. Steve and Robin snicker across the room and you look to see them both watching you. You groan and drop your plate in your lap, knocking into Eddie’s. Face in your hands, you turn to roll off Eddie’s lap. He grips you around the waist to hold you securely on top of him.

“I hate them,” you mumble to Eddie. He laughs softly in your ear, but it’s slightly mocking. You reach back and smack his chest. “You too.”

“Aww, princess,” Eddie says. The nickname only spurs you further along and you try to escape his clutches. He’s too strong though, and keeps you pressed against him. “You know you can make this end.”

“Yeah,” Robin echoes from the other couch. “All you gotta do is give us a name.”

“With friends like you guys, who needs enemies?” you ask.

“So, was your dream like this?” Steve asks, pointing to the scene in the movie.

“Alright, Steve,” you say. It’s easier to fight back with him, since he isn’t the one your dream was about. “You wanna know?”

“I do,” he says, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Fine. Come with me.” You stand up out of Eddie’s lap, leaving him frowning behind you.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Why does he get to know?” Robin asks.

Instead of answering anyone, you march over to the sliding glass door and glide it open. Steve’s right on your heels as you step outside. He closes the door behind you as you keep stalking forward.

“You’re not going to push me in the pool, are you?” he asks.

You spin around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You guys really aren’t going to let up, are you?” you ask.

“What’s the big deal?” Steve asks, putting his hands on his hips. “Just tell us.”

“Because he’s in there,” you snap. “And I’ve been in love with him for years.”

Steve’s face falls as he realizes this wasn’t fun and games to you like it was for them.

“Shit,” he says, hands sliding off hips. “I didn’t know.”

“That’s kind of the point of a secret,” you say.

He sighs and runs his hands over his face. He takes a step forward and opens his arms to you to offer a hug. You step into his embrace and bury your head in his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“S’okay,” you mumble against him. “Figured I’d tell you because you can make the rest of them shut up.”

“I’ll do my best,” he says. “Although Nancy is scarier than me.”

“True,” you agree with a chuckle.

“Come on,” Steve says. He presses a kiss to the side of your head and pulls back. “Pizza is going to get cold.”

Steve leads you back inside, retaking his spot next to Robin. You sit down next to Eddie and the eyes of the room are going back and forth between you and Steve. Both of you ignore them until Robin smacks Steve in the chest.

“Ow?”

“Well?” she asks.

“Just let it go, okay?” he says.

Robin frowns and looks over at you, but you don’t take your eyes off your plate. The awkwardness lasts for a few minutes before there’s an uptick in action in the movie. As everyone becomes more and more immersed in the film, the conversation starts up again, revolving around the mystery being laid out.

Pizza’s mostly gone, and leftovers are cold when the movie ends. Most of you are satisfied, but Robin keeps huffing in annoyance.

“Next time I’m picking the musical,” she says.

“Warning, Steve and y/n will duet the songs the whole time,” Nancy says.

“Hey,” Steve says.

“What? She’s right,” you say. Steve shrugs noncommittally and you chuckle.

Eddie’s brow is pinched, and you nudge him with your elbow.

“You okay?”

“Hmm?” He looks at you and shakes his head. “Yeah, I’m good. Do you want me to drive you back to your house?”

“Sure,” you say. Not only would you take any chance to be around Eddie, but your home was closer to his place than Nancy’s anyway.

Steve assures the rest of you that you don’t have to clean up, that he’s got it covered, and everyone can head out. As you say goodbye, Steve gives you an extra tight hug and you smile at him gratefully. Eddie slings his arm over your shoulders as soon as you pull away from Steve, and he leads you to his van.

You hop up in the passenger seat and Eddie starts the engine, turning up the heat to get the biting chill out of the van. He pulls out of Steve’s driveway and heads down the dark and quiet road. Music plays softly over the speakers, but it isn’t usual for Eddie to be this quiet.

“What’s wrong, Ed?”

“Nothing,” he says. It sounds rehearsed though.

“You think I buy that?” you ask. “We’re like best friends.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he mumbles, almost too low for you to hear. But not quite.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“You really think I’m gonna do that?” You raise your eyebrows at him.

He shifts in his seat, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Your street comes into view and Eddie takes the turn so fast it feels like the van rocked onto just two wheels.

“Jesus, Eddie!”

The van screeches into your driveway and he kills the ignition. You stare at him as he keeps his focus straight on your house in front of you. He rolls his shoulders back and his leather jacket creeks in protest.

“I’m being a jealous asshole.”

His words are so unexpected that you’re not sure if he’s done speaking or not. When he doesn’t elaborate, you venture forward.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“You talked to Steve instead of me.”

Inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, you take a few deep breaths before replying.

“Is this really about that stupid dream?” you ask.

“No,” he says with a huff. “I mean…no, not really. It’s just, you brought Steve outside to talk about it. I thought we were closer.”

He shrugs and looks down at his hands on the steering wheel. His voice had gotten quieter as the sentence wound down. It ended with him sounding small and vulnerable.

“Eddie.”

You don’t know what to say after that though. That the reason you told Steve about your sex dream was because the dream was about having sex with Eddie? You’d rather have him feeling a bit jealous than never wanting to speak to you again.

When you don’t continue speaking, he looks over at you from the corner of his eye. You reach over to place your hand on his arm, not knowing what else to do.

“You and I are closer than Steve and I are. But maybe that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. Have you ever felt it easier to tell someone something that you weren’t as close to?”

Eddie turns to fully face you, face furrowed in thought.

“No.”

His deadpan response makes you laugh. You drop your head forward and a smile cracks on his face.

“You’re always so honest with me,” you say.

“Pretty much,” he says with a shrug.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you take a deep breath. It’s true. There’s not a time Eddie wasn’t honest with you. To the point of embarrassment on multiple occasions.

“Okay,” you say on an exhale. “I’ll tell you. But it’s embarrassing.”

Eddie leans forward, elbows resting on the center console. He dips his chin and raises his eyebrows at you.

“Would it help if I tell you my most embarrassing sex dream?”

You purse your lips in thought, though you both already know the answer.

“Duh.”

“Okay,” he says through a deep breath. “You want to know why, besides the obvious, I hate going to the school library?”

He looks at you expectantly for a moment before your jaw drops and your eyes widen.

“Mrs. Brady? Eddie!” You cover your face with your hands to smother your giggles. It takes a couple of seconds for you to recover enough to continue speaking. “Eddie! She’s like eighty!”

“I know!” He throws his hands in the air. “It’s not like I could help it, though. You can’t help what you dream about. Which leads us back to…” He gestures to you with a dramatic flourish.

With a deep breath, you nod your head.

“Okay. Well. At least it’s someone my age,” you say with a smirk. Eddie rolls his eyes and gently pushes you against the passenger door. You throw a crumbled-up receipt at him before continuing. “It was you, you doofus.”

“Me?” His voice raises three octaves and his eyebrows jettison into his hair.

“Yes,” you say, cheeks flaring. “Now do you understand why I didn’t tell you?”

“Well shit, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a smirk. It didn’t take him long to recover from his surprise, usual charm and charisma back in place. “Nothing to be embarrassed of there.”

“Oh, no?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Do you know how many dreams I’ve had about you like that?”

“Me?” It’s your turn to have your voice become a different decibel.

“Yeah, you. Look at you,” he says, gesturing to you. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Your eyes drop to your lap, and you bite your lip to hide your grin. The burn travels up to the tips of your ears and you don’t remember the last time you felt so warm or your tummy all buzzy.

“You could’ve just told me,” Eddie says, reaching over to tilt your chin up. “I’m flattered, really. Never thought someone like you would think about me that way. Even if it came from your subconscious.”

“Someone like me?” you ask with a frown.

“Yeah, like…way out of my league,” he says.

Your frown deepens as you lean forward and press your forehead against his.

“I don’t want to ever hear you say something like that again,” you say.

“It’s true, though,” he whispers, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “You’re practically the perfect girl.”

“Hush,” you tell him as you reach up to cup his face in your hands. “Number one, you know you and I are both nerds on the same level. And you’re gorgeous, so jot that down. There’s no one out of your league, Eddie.”

He gives you a soft smile and presses his nose against yours. “You always make me feel better.”

“Yeah?” you ask. You trail your thumbs along his cheekbones, and he shudders gently under your touch.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” Eddie whispers to you.

You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath.

“The feeling is very mutual, Munson.”

“Yeah?” he asks.

Reluctantly, you pull your face away from his to look up at your house.

“My parents are still away, you know,” you say. “If you want to come in?”

“Oh yeah?” he looks at you skeptically.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Maybe I could show you what happened in my dream?”

Eddie’s eyes widen and you swear you’ve never seen him this speechless before. It makes you giggle despite the nerves rocking through your body.

“That sounds good,” he says. His pupils are blown wide open and the way he tries to make his voice sound calmer gives you all the assurance you need. You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips. You mean for it to be quick, but as you go to pull away, Eddie cups the back of your head and sinks in against your mouth.

Just as you’re about to wrap your arms around his neck, he pulls back to whisper against your lips.

“I really hope you dreamt me cuddling the shit out of you afterwards, because that’s definitely happening.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction

[boneblushed]

Glitch

synopsis Rafe has a bad fall on the ski slopes. A temporary amnesiac, he falls in love with you all over again.

a/n oh Euro Trip Rafe I have missed you so bad 🥹

The velcro of your left glove snags, the worn edge catching on the handle of your ski pole. You sigh. The gauntlet cuff on the right side isn’t looking much better, all scruffy and threadbare so the underlying skin’s exposed.

“Hold on,” you call out, skidding to a reluctant stop.

It’s high time you replaced them with a newer pair, especially considering you’ve been using the same gear your parents bought you post middle-school growth spurt. But you don’t come to Aspen nearly enough to justify doing so at the moment; not that money’s a particular issue, it’s more so the inconvenience an unnecessary shopping trip will bring you.

“Dude. Again?”

You abandon the broken strap to send Topper a helpless frown. He’s a little way ahead, partially obscured by the crowd, but the exasperation on his face is made evident by his tone.

He draws nearer and glances down at the shaggy velcro, shaking his head disapprovingly. “We’ve gotta buy you a new pair.”

Above him, the sky is a gauzy blue, juxtaposing the sugary white hue of fresh snow.

“Not worth it Top,” you argue. The strap hitches again, an objection. “They’ll barely get used.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he answers, turning again. “Come on. I’m going to buy you a new pair.”

He’ll buy you a new one, your heart sings. And then it stops. You know better than to read into this gesture — he isn’t being chivalrous on purpose; when is he ever? This is the fourth time you’ve had to stop to untangle or readjust, and you’re pretty sure he’s just getting sick of you holding him up. Logic prevails, but your traitorous cheeks warm anyway, demure about the offer.

“It’s fine,” you insist. The velcro barely sticks when you refasten it. Fine enough. “Let’s keep going.”

You continue to push through the horde ahead of you, making your slow way toward the chairlifts. As you near, the ant-like skiers and snowboarders on the mountain become clearer, and you pull down your goggles, blinded by the sun’s glare.

That’s when the accident happens.

All of a sudden, but crashing in dusky orange slow-motion. Some guy hits a rocky bit of the slopes, losing control of his snowboard and nosediving into the snow. It’s a gnarly looking collision, made worse by his concerning lack of helmet, and you share a worried look with Topper before making your way toward him.

“Dude, fucking move—hey, sorry, best friend coming through—”

You startle, halting abruptly. You’d recognise that voice anywhere.

“—sorry, ‘scuse me gorgeous, I’m just gonna squeeze past you real quick—”

“Noah!”

In the split second that follows, you endure several emotions at once. The first: concern heightened ten-fold. Because if Noah’s referring to himself as the best friend, the some guy in question is actually Rafe Cameron.

The same Rafe Cameron that you love to hate, almost as much as your poor heart avows it.

The second: a concerning ache. Right at the centre of your chest, within your ribcage, as if the tired ligaments that hold it together are as weak as your velcro straps. The feeling swells, and you feel your heart squeeze through the cracks.

And then there’s apprehension, some excitement, a sudden bashfulness that makes your cheeks burn.

All round pathetic. You force a smile that’s more a grimace, hoping that Noah doesn’t notice your disquiet.

He pauses en-route, a surprised expression on his face. “Y/N!” He exclaims, breathless. The surprise melts into a mixture of delight and amusement. “Tell me you witnessed him bailing just then.”

You sigh. “Unfortunately.”

“Good,” he replies soberly, linking his arms in yours and tugging you forward. Your ski poles cross in protest, your centre of balance askew. “You’re coming with me.”

“What?” You ask, evidently bewildered. “Noah…”

You twist around and find Topper in the crowd, who shrugs, equally perplexed. Help me, you mouth, though you’re moving ahead too fast for the poor boy to discern it.

“…uh,” you try again, turning back to the face him, “I don’t know if this is —”

“Y/N,” he interrupts matter-of-factly, zig-zagging through the crowd with ease. “If there’s one person that can talk some sense into him, it’s you. I mean, shit, did you see how fast he was going? He’s going to board himself into a fucking coma if he keeps doing stupid shit like that.”

This brings a pause. It’s sort of endearing, really, how fiercely he cares about Rafe.

Your gaze softens a smidge. “You’re a good friend, Noah,” you say. “He’s pretty lucky to have you.”

“Us,” Noah corrects.

Your pulse jolts. “He doesn’t have me,” you reply, frowning a little.

“Everyone else may believe that Y/N, but I don’t.”

And again, a terrifying emotion bounding forth in your chest. “I —”

You’re saved the trouble of sputtering through an excuse by Rafe’s languid groan, a thready-sounding, “Shit.”

The crowd parts at Noah’s command, and the pair of you squeeze through, now face to face with Rafe.

He’s splayed out on the snow with his limbs in disarray, only one of his boots still strapped onto his board. His cheeks are a chilly rouge, dirty-blonde hair sticking out at odd angles. You resist the sudden urge to reach forward and comb your fingers through it.

“Idiot,” Noah mutters, crouching down beside him. “Absolute fucking idiot.”

He unfastens the aforementioned boot and tosses his board to the side, the nose-end looking notably abraded.

“Huh?” Rafe mumbles, a little dazed. He gropes at his purple-hued goggles blindly, pulling them off to squint up at Noah. It takes a worrying number of seconds for recognition to dawn on his features, and when it does, finally, Noah turns around and beckons you forward.

You hesitate, your gaze flitting down to Rafe’s face. “Someone should call Ward.”

“No!” Rafe yells suddenly, attempting to push himself up before collapsing backward languidly. He clutches his left side and groans, his eyebrows pinching in pain.

His discomfort makes you wince. You spring into action without meaning to, that concerning ache in your chest pulling you forth until you’re crouching down beside him like Noah.

“No Ward,” you murmur, placing your hand on his shoulder. “Noted.”

Up close, you can see a cut on his bottom lip, the rough stubble on his jaw all dewy from the melted snow. Your brow furrows. As he tears his gaze away from Noah to face you instead, you brush back his dirty-blonde fringe, searching for any more injuries. He has a graze on his upper forehead and you thumb over it gently, the furrow in your brow deepening with concern.

You glance up at Noah and nod. “Absolute fucking idiot.”

Rafe tries to do the same, but a sharp ache sears through his head when he attempts to turn it again.

“Stop moving it,” you instruct sternly, exerting more pressure on his forehead to hold it in place. “Noah isn’t going anywhere.”

“Have to,” he groans, his voice all gravelly and rough, “make sure he’s still here.”

He’s almost certain that Noah won’t be, that he’ll turn to him and find that the two of you are the only people sitting on the slopes. He imagines it like that scene at the end of Deathly Hallows, everything in blinding white and playing inside of his head.

You know, because he’s almost definitely dreaming if you’re crouching down beside him right now. With a soft hand on his shoulder, another pressed over his forehead. Two points of contact, he marvels, dazed. He squints up at you again, his reverent gaze falling over you in paces, and it feels as though a fog is descending on his surroundings. Everything blurs. He blinks abruptly.

“Dude,” Noah chastises, leaning over Rafe’s torso so that he’s within his line of sight, “where the fuck would I go?”

Rafe’s eyes widen, and he looks between you and Noah, evidently bewildered. “Bro,” he groans after a pause, his head falling back defeatedly. “I’m fucked.”

Your heart lurches worriedly, and you frown, looking over his figure for more injuries. “R’you in any pain?”

“Not physical,” he mumbles, lifting his head tentatively to squint at you. He drops it again and groans, overwhelmed by your closeness. “You’re really fucking beautiful, by the way. It’s messing with my head.”

You roll your eyes, feeling a tell-tale warm creeping up your neck. “Alright, you guys can go,” you say, turning to address the crowd. “He’s totally fine.”

Noah grins down at him, looking equally parts proud and exasperated. “There he is.”

Rafe isn’t sure what that means. All he knows is that he doesn’t feel fine, his head’s all jumbled and there’s a dreadful ache in every one of his limbs. The sound of blood pounding through his ears is unrelenting, and the chill in the air is downright abrasive. Not to mention, there’s this angel reincarnate that’s leaning over him at present, a concerned expression on her face that’s somehow making her look prettier.

Two points of contact, Rafe thinks again, agonised. Your softened features come to him in slow motion, the light reflected in your wide eyes, the shine of gloss on your frowning lips. You look extremely familiar, but he’s having difficulty recalling your name. There’s this overwhelming pull in chest that tells him you’re a big deal to him—his girlfriend, he hopes, aghast and probably deluded. That’s the concussion talking.

Besides, he isn’t even entirely sure that you’re actually real, all things considered.

“We should probably get him checked out, huh?” You ask Noah.

Noah knits his brow thoughtfully, peering down at Rafe. “You good, Cameron?”

“I feel fucking hungover,” Rafe mutters, pushing himself into a sitting position. Your hand falters as he hangs his head forward, and he reaches up, pressing it back into his skin. The rough pressure makes your breath hitch, less languid and more sure than he’s been since he bailed.

“You’re concussed,” you correct meekly, frowning down at him.

Rafe tries to shake his head, wincing as another bolt of pain shoots through it in dissent. “No,” he says, quick to fix his features. He grins dazedly. “I’m Rafe Cameron. And you’re… well, I hope you’re my girlfriend or something, because otherwise this heart attack in my chest’d be pretty concerning.”

You breathe out a scoff, mildly exasperated. A little relieved. If he’s well enough to remember to be an incessant flirt, he’s well enough for the concussion to not have caused any permanent damage.

“Alright, nevermind, no medical attention necessary,” you mutter, sending him a glare. It’s hard to hide the fact that your palms are clammy when you pull them away.

Noah loops his bicep under Rafe’s and pulls him to his feet, steadying him in place. The throbbing in his forehead intensifies, and he groans, staggering forward and doubling over.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Noah replies then, frowning. “Maybe I’ll give my mom a call, just to be safe.”

“Your mom?”

“Dr White,” Rafe supplies, forcing himself to straighten. He tries to control his breathing, ignore the way his surroundings seem to be spinning.

Everything except you. His focus acquiesces. He must look pale or something because your gaze is apprehensive, this pretty furrow in your brow that he wants to smooth his thumb over. God, he must look pathetic right now, weak and mildly concussed, the aforementioned bail notwithstanding.

So he lies, adding, “Don’t worry about it White, I’m good,” mostly for your benefit—so you don’t think he’s some fucking chump who can’t handle a bit of a tumble.

He wants to impress you, bad. He plasters on another grin, going for roguish and landing on dense. “Would be better if you let me take you out later.”

“No way you’re asking me out right now,” you reproach, sending him a glare. “You almost just died five minutes ago, and that’s the first thing on your priority list?”

“You are, yeah,” he agrees, still grinning. He tries to walk toward you, staggering a little. “Seriously though, this has gotta be fate — bailing real fucking hard and finding a beautiful stranger along the way.”

You blink. “Beautiful stranger?”

“Heavy on the beautiful,” Rafe agrees, lumbering forward clumsily.

“Stranger?” You repeat, and then you falter, glancing down at his feet. “Rafael —”

He loses balance far too quickly for you to intervene, and he falls against you heavily, causing you to topple into the snow. Biting cold on your back, delightful warmth on your chest. His instincts must be somewhat intact, because he manages to hold his weight up despite being right on top of you.

Like, right on top of you. A terrifying emotion sears through your chest. The smatter of freckles on his nose are almost faded, his cheeks a brilliant rouge, snow-burned lips parted slightly. His overgrown locks brush against your forehead, just.

“Sorry,” he breathes out, and then he pauses, his gaze flitting to your lips. In the beat that passes, he agonises over the soft planes of your face, how pretty your eyes are up close. His heart’s just about pounding through his skin. How kissable your lips look, your cheeks, your neck, how right your figure feels pressed into his. His palms feel clammy; that hasn’t happened in a long while. He thinks, oh shit. And then, I’m absolutely fucking fucked.

You swallow, watching his pupils dilate. “Cameron. I need you to focus for a second.”

“Listen,” he murmurs, ignoring you, “D’you believe in love at first sight?”

“Rafael —”

“Because I know we’ve only just met,” he continues, drawing closer still, his heady gaze deepening, “and that — shit, I don’t even know your name, but I’m pretty sure that if I don’t kiss you right now I’m going to go fucking insane. That’s crazy, huh? I think you make me crazy. Have I mentioned that you’re really fucking beautiful yet? It’s messing with my head. Wait — I think I might’ve said that already —”

“Rafe Cameron,” you interrupt again, your eyes widening slightly. “If this is some stupid prank —”

“Prank?” He echoes, frowning slightly. He leans forward a little, brushing his nose against yours. Your pulse jolts. “You’re a prank.” He groans then, dropping his head to your shoulder. Your closeness may quell the pounding a smidge, but not completely. “You’re not real are you? I’m dreaming all of this?”

Your lock eyes with Noah over his head, sending him a worried look.

“Rafael,” you try again, pushing him off you and sitting up carefully. “This isn’t funny. I’m so beyond serious.”

Rafe, still splayed out on the snow, angles toward you with a furrow in his brow. “I’m confused.”

“Noah,” you say then, your voice louder, a little panicked. “I think you will need to call your mom after all.”

Noah frowns, crouching down beside the pair of you. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong,” Rafe answers, groaning in pain as he sits up. “Is that I’ve made a fool out of myself in front of this gorgeous stranger.”

“Ask her,” you continue, your heart feeling a little odd, “how long post-concussion memory loss takes to wear off.”

Noah eyes widen, searching Rafe’s face for any signs of mirth. “No way,” he says. “He’s gotta be fucking with us.”

“There’s an us?” Rafe echoes, raising his eyebrows at Noah. “Dude. Did you know your girlfriend’s a fucking smokeshow?”

“If this is some new pick up line you’re trying,” he replies, eyeing him warily. “It sucks ass Cameron.”

“Oooh, territorial,” Rafe answers, grinning dopily. He props himself up further, leaning closer to you and lowering his voice to a stage whisper. “You’re totally out of his league, by the way. Pretty sure you’re like, out of the Earth’s league.” He frowns. “That doesn’t make sense,” then groans, “fuck. Having a concussion is like drinking on an empty stomach.”

The pillow of his bicep presses into yours, full well engulfing it. You turn to face him, chewing on your bottom lip worriedly. If this was his idea of a prank, you want to believe that he wouldn’t let it go on this long. Especially not when you and Noah look so concerned, the latter retrieving his phone to give his mother a call.

“Hey mom,” he says, sandwiching his phone between his shoulder and ear and getting to his feet. You do so too. Rafe staggers to a standing position far more clumsily. “Yeah — no — the snow’s been sick, but I’m calling because something’s happened with Rafe. No, no, nothing too serious, he’s just a little concussed and may have some temporary amnesia. I was wondering if…”

“Maybe we can go on a double date,” Rafe tries again, grinning hopefully. There’s a bit of snow that’s melted on your bottom lip from the fall, and he aches to thumb over it, tuck his fingers under your jaw. “You, Noah, me.”

“No, no, he remembers me,” Noah continues, sending you a significant look. “But he doesn’t remember — yeah, it’s pretty selective — uh, maybe a few meters? Uh… no, what the hell’s a trigger? I’ll…”

“What d’you reckon?” Rafe prompts.

Noah turns away and you move your gaze to Rafe, half amused, half exasperated. “You, me, and Noah? Who’re you going to bring?”

“You,” he replies, like it’s obvious.

“And Noah?”

“Me.”

You breathe out an exasperated laugh, shaking your head. Rafe thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard. His already muddled brain short-circuits for the billionth time.

“…half an hour?” You hear Noah affirm, the frown on his features audible. “Yeah — no — it’s been just over that — a trigger like what, though? What d’you mean you don’t know him as well as I do, he’s been coming to our house since he was like six years old…”

You don’t realise your brow’s furrowing until your feel Rafe’s rough thumb brush over it. You startle, feeling your skin warm as you look up at him.

“I’m lucky,” he murmurs, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

You swallow. “Why?”

“You’re worried about me.” His hand drops to your jaw, thumb swiping over your cheek. You swallow instinctively. “And you’re way too beautiful to be worrying about someone like me.”

“You’ve lost your memory,” you answer weakly. “Anyone’d be worried.”

“I find that hard to believe.” He draws closer.

“Which part, exactly?”

“That people would worry,” he answers quietly, his voice gruff. Closer still. “That I’d forget about someone like you so easy.”

“But you have,” you prompt.

“Then remind me, sweetheart.”

“Not your sweetheart, Rafael,” you murmur, trying for a frown.

“Not my — wait.”

The thumb that’s swiping over your cheek freezes suddenly. “Wait,” he repeats, blinking several times. He scrunches his eyes shut, retrieving his hand to clutch it against his forehead. “Wait — fuck.”

You lean forward instinctively, tugging his arm away to look over his features, his concerning graze. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I knew…” he answers, shaking his head and groaning, “…but…shit, it’s so fucking obvious now —”

You furrow your brow in confusion, locking eyes with an equally bewildered Noah.

He holds his phone away from his ear, walking over and surveying Rafe’s features. “You good, brother?”

“Fine, shit,” Rafe curses again, scrubbing his hand over his face before meeting your gaze, chagrined. He grins hopefully. “That might’ve been quicker with true love’s kiss, though.”

You aren’t about to believe that he’s back without concrete evidence. “And my name is…?”

“Mrs Cameron,” he replies seriously.

You let out a scoff, more relief than indignation, catching the twinkle of mirth in his eyes. “Don’t ever do that again, you hear me?”

“Maybe,” he answers, raising his eyebrows, “if you let me take you out I’ll be too busy to bail.”

You roll your eyes. “Nice try.”

“But I’m maimed, sweetheart,” he adds, brushing back his dirty-blonde locks to show off the forehead graze. He pouts for good measure. “C’mon. Not even a pity date?”

You shake your head exasperatedly, catching Noah’s eye over his shoulder. “You’ll take it from here?”

“What? You aren’t gonna hang out with us?” Noah asks, pressing the phone against his chest. “I thought you were my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Off limits, bro,” Rafe says matter-of-factly.

You’re about to protest when he draws closer and ducks his head, his warm breath on your earlobe cutting you off. “I won’t ever do that again,” he murmurs, the smile on his face audible, “I promise.”

“Good,” you answer, frowning sternly.

“Oh, and Y/N?”

You turn toward him, startling at his closeness. “Hm?”

He grins wider, brushing his nose against your fleetingly. “Missed remembering you bad, dream girl.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader

[lizardsfromspace]

What's the worst thing about fandom in the last 20 years, and what's the worst thing about fandom that's always been true of it?

The worst thing about fandom in the last 20 years has been the incentivizing of fandom-as-conflict: not merely as a field in broader culture wars but as the field for endless intra-group battles.

This manifests in many ways: as seven hour videos complaining about The Last Jedi, as Twitter backlash campaigns, but also as stans defending their faves from any and all criticism real or imagined, as the endless boom-and-backlash cycle to any fandom meme or joke you see on Reddit, and as the drive for people to look for evidence other people discussing a thing they like are hysterical illiterate dolts, before anything else.

Or, in other words: a lot of fandoms are full of assholes these days, whose main interaction with fandom is using it as a reason to be an asshole, and to defend being an asshole. The actual “fandom” part of fandom no longer really exists for them. The discourse more or less is their fandom; someone whose main fandom activity is sharing videos about how Steven Universe is a fascist (?) isn’t in the Steven Universe fandom, they’re in the videos about how Steven Universe is a fascist (?) fandom. I mean, the chief fandom for many people is their side in the fandom war. What type of fanfic you write is secondary to what your affiliations are vis-a-vis battles over fanfiction

(One trend I've noticed is people who aren't at the stage where they only talk about what they hate and not what they love, but are at the stage where they can only talk about what they love in relation to what they hate. "I love this movie...and it proves this other movie is bullshit made by a hack". No ability to say just "I love this movie", period, end of sentence. This is how like two-thirds of Film Twitter talks about film, the remainder are all the grindhouse people going "man you've GOT to see Wrong Turn 5")

Another one, that I think is related, is that fandom’s become...more transitory, maybe? There’s Big Fandoms that are inescapable and then everything else feels like it’s here for a weekend and then it’s gone. And we’ve always had fandoms that endure and fandoms that vanish quickly, when the show runs short or turns out to be bad/boring, but we did use to have a lot of enduring if small fandoms for Okay shows most people hadn’t heard of and now you don���t really. Or they burn themselves out fast.

So we’ve reached this stage where fandoms are either so big they have seven hour long discourse videos, or they’re a smattering of fanart over the course of two weeks last August. But that isn’t really the fault of fans so much as modern media release schedules.

A lot of fandom activities of old are just...impossible now, with many shows? The slow build of speculation and fan works and in-jokes and theorizing and analysis simply can’t exist in a world where the premiere comes out the same day as the finale, and you can’t talk about the finale because you have no way of knowing if the person you’re talking to binged it all in one weekend or is still on episode four. That was the kind of thing that sustained the fandom of something that wasn’t a big hit, or even something that was. My fave fandom experience ever was watching the online Lost fandom wildly theorizing for all six years of Lost, and we’d never get “and what if the Smoke Monster is a dinosaur but only the head?” under a Netflix release model. Now at a base level, we either have shows nobody can discuss because nobody’s sure who’s seen or what, or shows where everyone just discusses the finale right away, and where you get One Week of Show and then a massive hiatus, which either kills all momentum or...drives fandom in the direction of hyper-analyzing everything and fighting because, well, what else is there to do? And that plus the outrage cycles of social media plus the fact that “man who yells at Star Wars” is now a viable career choice result in, well. *gestures upwards* All that

(Really, shout out to Cartoon Network for engineering the Steven Universe fandom to Be Like That through their inscrutable strategy of dropping episodes during one random week every five months or whatever)

As for something that's always been with it...cliques and a certain fannish elitism, like, that sees engaging with media in a fandom sense as more creative or analytical or intelligent than your average person. You see it now in the form of, like, people holding up fanfic above published fiction as more representative or authentic (I’ve seen more than one post on here strongly implying queer rep doesn’t exist in mainstream non-fic storytelling???), or going “well, we think about shows, unlike those normies watching sports”. But that was probably way more pronounced a thing in the past, in the 40-50s sci-fi fans were calling non-fans "mundanes" and calling themselves "slans" as an in-group signifier (a reference to a book with superintelligent psychic mutants known as slans). Like at the very least we should be happy no one’s calling non-fans “muggles” anymore. In the evolution from “mundane” to “muggle” to “normie” normie’s probably the least bad one

#asks #fandom #schafpudel #long post

[bunny-yan]

Telepathic!Yandere x GN!Reader

TW: language, this one is pretty tame, still no minors

—

This sucked.

You were at the supermarket, walking lackadaisically through the produce aisle, shivering your ass off because you refused to bring your jacket due to it being eighty-five degrees outside. The sweat, from the natural sauna you called a planet, had begun to dry and you were in this weird area between moist and dry that made you want to take a cheese grater to your skin. 

You felt gross. You wanted a bath, but your ex-boyfriend insisted that you get groceries because your fridge was bordering empty from the last get together you hosted with your friends, so cleanliness would have to wait. 

“Boyfriend.”

What was that? You couldn’t hear anything over the sound of your pores wailing at the cruel frozen torture they endured. 

“Boyfriend. And I told you that you could wear my jacket. You’re just being stubborn.”

There it was again. Maybe the abrupt change in temperature your body endured was causing you to hear things. It wasn’t the craziest assumption. You often got light-headed or nosebleeds when it was too hot so you couldn’t be too far off. 

“You aren’t funny.”

If only you were joking. If this was a light, happy moment you might’ve teased him about the two of of you still being together but you didn’t want to be. You didn’t want to be here, getting groceries with him. 

“Okay first of all, ouch. Second, can we not do this right now? I don’t feel like having this talk.”

Talk. A funny way to phrase it considering you weren’t speaking. You’d been giving him the silent treatment ever since you found out, trying to figure if there was some way you could keep your private thoughts private, but it was a concept that wouldn’t exist as long as you were near him. He didn’t care about your privacy as long as he could spy on you. 

“I don’t spy. We’ve had this conversation. You act like I’m doing this on purpose.” 

Whether he was doing it on purpose or not didn’t matter. It was the fact that he could. And he did. 

You’d spent the majority of your relationship ignorant of what your seemingly perfect boyfriend could do, feeling like a dumbass when it slipped out during one of the many fights you had. 

He mentioned something about how handsy a drunk guy was getting with you at a party to somehow insinuate that you were being unfaithful, something that he shouldn’t have known considering he was allegedly visiting his parents. 

“I was visiting my parents. You don’t have to be suspicious about every thing I said I was doing.”

You supposed it was true. He didn’t have to follow you around in order to know what you were doing. Just a quick scan of your brain and he knew everything down to what you had for breakfast. It was you who were left wondering if everything in your relationship was a lie. 

You wished he’d never told you the truth. 

You wouldn’t spend every moment of your relationship wondering whether or not each moment you shared was a fabricated. You could ask, but how would you know the truth? You always felt like it was odd that there was never an uncomfortable silence hanging awkwardly between the two of you. You’d never had a conversation last for as long as it usually did between the two of you. He always seem to know just what to say, especially on those dark days and it made you feel like he was the one. But he wasn’t. He just cheated his way into your heart. 

“So, what? You would’ve preferred our relationship be a lie?”

That’s what it was. Built on lies. It was strange that you considered it a relationship at all considering you were just dating a replica of your ideal person. This wasn’t real. You wanted to end it so you could move on with your life. 

“You’re not breaking up with me. As soon as you allow yourself to take a moment, you’ll realize that you’re being ridiculous. I’m not going to let you end this on a selfish whim. You know what? Fine.”

He grabbed your hand, placing the keys in them before going to push the basket forward. 

“You can go wait in the car where you’ll be out of my range. I’m tired of hearing this. We’ll talk about it when we get home.”

You could just take the car and leave him stranded in the middle of the supermarket. 

“You won’t. Now will you stop being such a brat and go wait for me in the car? Please?” 

You glared at him, unable to find refuge in your thoughts. The silent treatment only served to make you more frustrated since he wasn’t cut off from communicating with you. Walking towards the car, you couldn’t believe you didn’t realize you had been dating such an asshole. 

“Always for you.”

You didn’t like it one bit.

#telepathy #yandere #yandere oc #male yandere #telepathic yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x you #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #gn reader

[perkqularkreashions]

Living with the Enemy, Joe Goldberg x Reader

Part 1: Last Nice Guy in New York??

Prompt: YN is close friends with Peach, Annika, Beck, and Lynn. She doesn't fit into their circle, nor does she try to. Joe soon sets his sights on YOU, leading to a domino effect within Y/N's life.

Requested: YES | Requested are OPEN|

Warnings: Mature Content, Manipulation, Stalking, Slightly Proofread.

It had been some time since you last spoke with Peach and her willing and obedient entourage. You blissfully ignored them, avoiding the usual hangouts and skipping daily walks with your son. You took different routes and dined at other eateries, and for a while, you enjoyed this simple and slow-paced lifestyle. 

It was a particularly warm day in New York; the increasing winds had died, allowing you to turn off the space heaters that litter your apartment. You relished the smell of cleaning products and baby formula rather than burning rubber. You watched as Rafi bounced around in his walker from his room back to the living room. His hand slapped against some trinket that sang a quick tune of “You are my sunshine.” It was probably his favorite plaything on that bouncer, but it annoyed the absolute hell out of you. The loud and high-pitched continuous loop of "you are my sunshine... my only sunshine", but he loved it, so you endure it. You cracked open the window, allowing the fresh air to filter into the apartment, the warm breeze washing over you briefly before returning to stillness. Contently, you sighed. Your eyes flickered to the door; a hesitant knock followed by two more confident knocks. You shuffled off the couch, unable to gaze through the peephole due to the grime built up over the years. You mentally noted that you need to tell the landlord about that. Unlocking your three deadbolts, you pressed your ear against the door, hearing the muffled female voices.

You opened the door and noticed Peach, Beck, Lynn, and Annika. Your eyes widened as you stumbled back, Peach charging into the apartment. Her eyes glanced around as she brightly smiled at Rafi before returning her cold gaze to you. She crosses her arms, waiting for you to fill the silence with an apology. The tension hung in the air like a heavy fog, palpable and suffocating everyone as they all watched you, their once easy rapport replaced by an uneasy silence. Every word left unsaid seemed to echo between them, filling the space with a sense of unease that was almost tangible. You chuckled before turning away, gathering some of Rafi’s items out of habit. “You don’t just go MIA for weeks like that!” Everyone slowly shifts into the apartment; you feel suffocated. “I called, you never answer.”

You plainly answered, “I know.” You shoved some clothes into the hamper before returning to the group. You tried to think of something to say and formulate something harsh and crude to say back to Peach and her brainless minions that followed her every call, jumping at the snap of her fingers and pleading for some sort of acceptance from her. You sighed, sitting on the sage-colored love seat, your elbows resting on your knees as you rubbed your temples gently. “Peach, you and your…whatever this is. Can happily get the fuck out of my apartment. You can’t just storm into my home and expect me to drop to my knees begging for you to what…forgive me?” 

You felt the couch dip next to you, the smell of her engulfing you. It iterated the fuck out of you yet offered you a warm feeling. She was home; despite her manipulation, gas-lighting, and bitch behavior, she was home. You finally looked at her, your face growing warm as you pressed your lips together. Her smile growing as she knew, she squealed, wrapping her arms around you. “Say you forgive us… me?” You nodded against her before pulling back. “Great, let’s go out to eat! We’ve missed you and have lots to catch you up on!”

You nodded, pressing a feigned smile on her lips; Annika smiled, wrapping you in a brief, one-armed hug. She was followed by Lyn, who seemed more than pleased that you had returned. They moved away, gawking at Rafi as they spoke with him in an annoying, high-pitched tone. They were flashing toys in front of him before snatching them quickly as he giggled loudly. You stood beside Beck; an awkward silence washed over you both. Beck wanted to speak… she wanted to ask if what Peach had been filling in her head was true. Suppose you had been trying to pine after Joe; how would she feel? She admitted her feelings for Joe were growing; she liked having him around and the attention he provided her when Benji was off on a binge of whatever drug would provide him with whatever relief. “We missed you… I missed you,” Beck spoke, cutting through the silence. 

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, bumping into her shoulder and offering her a half smile. She tucked a small piece of hair behind her ear.  

“I’ve been dying to tell you about everything, I mean everything,” Beck whispers through her laugh as she watches you for a moment. Beck confided you about everything; you weren’t judgmental and never gave advice—you were just a lending ear that she craved in the whirlpool that was Peach. You sighed, knowing that no matter where you were in your life and how far you thought you had escaped Peach, she was always lurking in the shadows, ready to devour you at any minute.

You hummed softly, your hand occasionally, moving the visor back to check to see if your son was still alive. Your hand fluttered in front of his face; quickly, he reached for your fingers. You had spent most of the morning shopping for groceries and wanting to find some fresh produce. You gathered green apples, strawberries, and some blueberries. It has been a slow-paced morning; class was canceled, you were finally caught up on your assignments, and only needed to grade some papers from some of your classes. You hadn’t seen Peach since your lunch date with the girls two weeks ago. It was spent, for the most part, talking about Beck’s choices in men and the plethora of men that have taken her to bed… all this steaming from Benji ghosting her. You didn’t know what she saw in him, but he was a poser and couldn’t hold down an idea, let alone his own business. She had fucked, Mr. Bedroom Eyes, someone that she had met in the library, all while leading on Joe and worrying about Benji.

Your eyes shifted slightly; noticing him underneath the navy-blue baseball cap, he examined the fruit before placing it down. You smiled brightly, peering left and right before approaching him. You stuttered for a moment; wait is it weird that you were approaching him? Did you even need to say hello? You stood behind him, mindlessly watching his gaze at the fruit. Weaving through the throngs of people as your eyes held steady on him, your hands tightening against the stroller. Panic surged through you, threatening to overwhelm my senses as your hands hesitantly reach out to his shoulder. Joe jumped as he spun around; a toothy grin fell on his lips as his eyes shifted to Rafi. “Sorry, this must be weird.” You quickly tried to explain, and yet there you stood. 

“No!” Joe smiled, “No weird at all.” He watched you, taking in your beauty from the curve of your lips to the furrow of your brows. Your eyes are a soft color, filled with so much emotion. He contained his excitement, continuing to handle the slightly ripe peach in his hand. A soft breath of relief escaped your lips; Joe watched you, taking in every moment, from the twitch of your eye when you smiled to the slight tightening of your hands against the stroller’s handle. Were you nervous? You didn’t need to be! I am all yours! Joe’s thoughts muddled aggressively through his head, his eyes concentrating more on your slight movements, the way you shifted your weight to your left hip as you stood there, watching him. Your index finger nervously taps before stopping.

“Good, I thought it’d be weird if I recognized you in this crowded space,” you laughed; it was soft. A small smile crept on his face as he moved closer to you, a single step to be closer to you. You slightly shifted, leaning against the stroller as you pushed it in front of you before bringing it back. “It’s nice to see you again.” Your heart fluttered as you watched his goofy take hold of his lips. His cheeks dusted pink as he nodded hesitantly; he stepped forward, watching you walk away in the crowd, occasionally wiggling your fingers in front of your son’s view. 

“Are you alone?” Joe mentally cringed as you paused, peering over your shoulder in confusion, “I meant, I could keep you company while you go shopping… If you don’t mind.” Do you mind? You wouldn’t mind, would you? Joe thought; he watched you ponder his offer, and you fully faced him as you smiled, nodding at him. Joe joined you, shoulders bumping into each other as you continued to walk through the farmer’s market. Looking at the different herbs and vegetation sprawled on the tables, you fingered at them, rubbing your fingers with a concentrated look on your face as Joe pushed Rafi. Joe watched you in awe, his hand gripping against the stroller in angst and yearning. He watched you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear; you quickly turned to him, putting a strong-smelling herb in his face. He winced as he swatted at his nose; you laughed softly before agreeing with the saleswoman that the left one was more pungent. 

“My mom made this weird-tasting soup for me when I was sick, but it always helped. It helps when Rafi has a little bug. He hates it; he scratches at my arms when I force-feed it to him.” You laughed, showing him the small craters in her skin that hadn’t healed properly. Joe took your arm, letting his thumb trace over the craters. “He’s so mean when he wants to be; I guess he gets that from his dad.” Joe watched you, taking in every word that was said. 

“His dad hit you?” You were stunned; you placed the herbs in your tote bag before looking at Rafi, making a slight face and tickling him. Joe observed you, your face tense as you seemingly tried to feign enjoyment in the brief time with your son. He watched how you weren’t standing so close to him; your shoulders still touched every again, but not the same as before. Joe cursed at himself for bringing it up; Joe hated that he made you feel so small and helpless again. You froze at the sound of your name; Joe noticed it, too. He peered over his shoulder seeing someone rush to you, his hand waving wildly as he began to jog to catch up to you. He called your name again. Joe’s eyes flickered at you, and you were frozen, eyes wide in fear. Joe leaned closer to you, but you were snapped out of thoughts when the man stood directly behind you. You slowly turned, now facing the stranger. Joe watched the man; something about was familiar, the curve of his lip and the bushiness of his brow. His hair was long and pulled into a rendition of a man-bun with some pieces falling in front of his face; he was clean-shaven and muscular. His skin was a deep cooper color that glistened but wasn’t sweat…more of an oil-based lotion. 

“It’s been so long!” he smiled with a bright smile, teeth perfect and in a row, no obscurities or imperfection. He tried reaching out for a hug, but you backed away, letting a small smile rest on your lips. You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to for Joe to notice how uncomfortable you were. “Who’s this?” His eyes never left yours. Joe could see the intimidation in his eyes, and his smile never reached his eyes when he spoke. 

Joe moved the stroller before him, stretching his hand in the process; a bright smile rested on his lips. “Joe.” The man didn’t acknowledge him or care for his name. Finally, he passed him a glance, his face churning into a distasteful look. His eyes moved to the stroller, and as a bright smile crossed his lips, he bent down for a moment. Wiggling at Rafi’s shoes, speaking in a babbled baby talk before looking up to you again. 

“You know he misses you and him; you shouldn’t run away. Especially with his child.” The man spoke, and he stood to his feet. “See around.” He spoke before brushing past you. Joe grabbed your arm, and you winced momentarily, flinching away from him. Your eyes finally connected with Joe’s; you sucked in a deep breath before grabbing unto the stroller. A sense of comfort washed over you. 

“Thanks for today… for this. I appreciate it,” you hummed. Joe nodded, watching you walk away; his eyes focused on the man who had ruined your perfect day together. It started innocently enough, stumbling into an impromptu game of hide-and-seek. Plunging into the maze of crowds, Joe found himself, trailing the stranger, drawn by the same curiosity that everyone in the market has. Joe shadowed his movements, picking up a weathered journal or a fruit that was slightly ripe. His eyes cut to the man every chance he had gotten. As Joe meanders through the maze of makeshift booths and colorful displays, the man he’s following remains blissfully unaware of his presence. They weave through the crowd, partaking in a dance that only Joe is aware of. 

“Dom! Dom! Dom Batista! As I live and breathe in the flesh it is you!” Joe groaned at the dramatic nature of New Yorkians, every word that stumbles out of their mouth an illicit affair with Shakespeare and a Soap Opera. “It has been so long since we’ve last seen each other!”

Joe followed behind you, face low as he watched you hurriedly move through the streets, passing men and women alike. 

Batista….Batista….Batista is the name of a Judge in New York City; their mother was an actress who starred in plenty of movies before her fall from grace and getting addicted to cocaine. They had three children, three boys: Jonathan, the oldest—who was a criminal defense attorney. He was married with two sons. He didn’t post on social media, but his wife, Mary Glassgo, came from an Affluent family in Virginia who had established wealth through “other means.” during the late 1700s, did, in fact, post and posted often. She was overly descriptive and pictured all the locations where they dined, shopped, and vacationed. She was on a trip with her two sons, enjoying the mountains in Vermont.  The caption was, “Can’t get away from life all the time, but when I do, it’s always with my two favorite boys.” Joe followed you across the street, scrolling through her Instagram until he came across a photo from Thanksgiving; he dragged his thumb across the screen, revealing a picture of her and another man who looked similar to Jonathan, tagged was St_Do_Batista. Dominick, the middle— Joe, recgonized him as the man he saw today; he frequently posted almost every day at the gym. He was a professional boxer; his face wasn’t riddled with too many lacerations and scars, which indicated that he was good at his craft. He had a girlfriend, one of many girlfriends. They all came and gone, as soon as a new one would be posted with a bright smile, not knowing her fate. Petite blondes, curvy brunettes, tall red-heads, even some bald girls with tattoos riddling every surface of their bodies.  

“Hello….” Joe thought; he scrutinized the photo, and you were smiling, your cheek pressed against him as you embraced him. He just won a fight; he hugged you tight. Joe scrolled to the following image… it was a video; he played it. You giggled as he spun, cheering as one hand held you tight against him. You spoke gently, words that the camera didn’t pick up, nor did anyone else. He continued to scroll as he noticed that most photos were of you cooking in his house, at the park with him, on his couch with the laptop tucked on your thighs as you carefully examined whatever was on the screen. You took up a majority of his life and then nothing. Joe saw a picture of him and another look similar to the Batista family; he clicked on the tagged name. RafiBat didn’t post much, but when he did, he generated a lot of attention from women. He was a boxer, too, and he and his brother were often referred to as the Basista Brothers. He didn’t post you often, once or twice; that was in photos with Dominick. But it was evident that you both were friends. He was attending a university known for its Marine Biology program. He had been traveling overseas, where he had been for the last few months, pictures of him with sharks, fish, turtles, and some other classmates. There was a picture of you, smiling brightly in his bed with her belly exposed; it was small, possibly in the early months of your pregnancy. His caption read “My Everything.”

Joe’s attention was averted to the left as he noticed someone briskly walking, eyes concentrated on you. His hand dug into his pocket as he pulled out his phone, dialing quickly. He spoke before hanging up. Did you not notice? Did you feel someone following you? Joe broke off in a sprint, laughing softly before calling out your name; you peered over your shoulder in confusion, hesitating as you squinted your eyes at him. 

Joe’s body collided against yours, taking your hand as he smiled gently. “Why’d you run off like that? I was looking for you everywhere!” he calls out exaggeratedly loud, his hand falling at his side; he watched your wide eyes swiftly snap to him while he continued to guide you forward, Joe’s hand pressed on your lower back. “Someone has been following you,” he whispered through a gritted smile. Her body stiffened as his words echoed through the stillness in the air; you were tempted to look, her head inching to the left slightly. “No, don’t look… Just keep walking baby.” You hummed in understanding. Joe peered over his shoulder, watching the man avoiding the dim street lights, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his body focused ahead of him, but he could see the whites of his eyes and the darkness of his orbs staring deep into your side. Then Joe remembered the small encounter you had at Peach’s party, the drunken party-goer grabbing you, retelling his woes of missing their friend group and a man who seemed to miss you just as much. Your body reacted negatively, your eyes watering, and your skin paled as you stumbled away from him.  Joe watched your hands dance against your face, trying to wipe the anxiety that was trailing through your body. Joe wanted to lead you home, protecting you from the evils lurking in the shadows you weren’t aware of. Joe allowed you to lead you both to your apartment complex. Joe swiftly grabbed Rafael, allowing you to close the stroller. You put in the code 76477; Joe held open the door as you shuffled in your hands, digging through your satchel in search of your keys. He noticed three locks; just as if you practiced this a hundred times, you easily unlocked the door. 

Joe smelled deeply, taking in the scent of baby powder and your aroma. Rafael rested against his neck, his chest breathing gently as he slept. His tiny breaths could be heard as they smacked against his pacifier. Joe scanned your apartment again; it was vastly bigger than Beck’s and his. His eyes fell on an opening; it wasn’t too big but just big enough to have a window, an oak-colored crib decorated with white and green. “You can just set him down in there…He won’t last too long in the crib,” He heard your voice as you locked the front door. You were latching on the deadbolts and other self-brought knick-knacks. Joe set Rafi down, brushing his hair out his face; he squirmed slightly in a panic. Joe quickly turned on the mobile, slightly out of reach for Rafi. He pressed a button; the mobile began to hum to live, and soon, water sounds came on. Splashing, sounds of whales and dolphins, and what seems like rain hitting the waters. It was soothing, and Rafi’s face soon mellowed. Joe allowed Rafi to hold unto his finger; his grip was tight as his body sprawled on the crib’s mattress.

“He usually isn’t so peaceful to put down. He must like you.” He heard you whisper; Joe peered over his shoulder, watching your head pressed against the door’s frame. Joe removed his finger, returning his attention to you. You walked out of the room as Joe followed you. The silence washed over you as you paced around the room, trying to find the right words. Joe stood there, waiting, allowing you to take as much time as needed. 

“Joe?” You finally whispered, your eyes finally landing on him. In that moment, Joe felt your souls tying together, latching and burning into each other. “Thank you.” you pushed out, tucking your bottom lip into your teeth. 

“I noticed him following you after the market…I didn’t know what to do but when I saw him trying to cross the street… Who is he?” 

“Dominick, my ex’s brother. Rafi’s father.” Joe nodded; you trusted him, you trusted him. You weren’t a liar like Beck, “Dom and I were close; I even thought we would be together, but then he got a girlfriend. He stopped coming around, that’s when I met Rafael, he was gentle at first…but I guess that was the point. I had a fling with him and then with his brother, shit just got messy fast, and I got pregnant. That’s when he got abusive… I tried pressing charges, but his dad always dropped the cases, saying that I was a daughter of a junky prostitute and a “john.” I asked for a different judge and each time I was denied. I was finally….finally allowed to get a restraining against him, but it expired, and I wasn’t allowed to renew due to no current impending dangers.” Joe watched you; he stepped close to you, grabbing your arms. You sighed, looking up at him. 

“If you need anything, anything… I am here for you.” Joe whispers; you nod, folding your arms underneath each other.

Please ask me to say; please beg me to stay. Joe thought; he nodded as he moved away from the couch. “Joe, wait!” You stood up, “You don’t mind staying for the night, do you? I would feel comfortable with a man around the house… just for the night.” Your voice is soft, and Joe could tell you needed him. He couldn’t deny you. He peered over his shoulder and smiled. 

The night progressed as you lay in the bed, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. Your eyes squeezing shut, trying to feign being asleep in hopes of tricking your mind into slumber.

“Joe, are you sleeping?” You called out into the darkness, “Joe?” You called out once more, panicked; you sat up quickly squinting through the darkness as you watched his chest slowly fall and rise. You sighed for a moment, shifting comfortably in the bed.

“Yes?” 

Joe rises from the couch, groaning as he shuffles to you. He crawls into bed, and you open the covers, allowing him to slide in. His eyes were low from being awoken from his sleep, his hands tight as he observed you move closer to him. You craved his warmth; a sense of comfort and protection seeped through to you. Your eyes focused on Joe’s, watching through the stillness of the night and the slight light that the moon gave you. His hand gently reached out, tucking your hair behind your ear, holding onto the strand until he reached the end. He moved closer, pressing a kiss on your forehead. He held it, trying to compose himself. He didn’t want to push himself onto you; he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He wasn’t going to be like your ex or your father. Joe pulled back, your eyes fluttering open hesitantly, and you moved closer to him. Your lips molded together, smacking in the silence as your slight hums vibrated into his mouth. He pulled away; you were vulnerable and seeking out comfort in him. He needed to wait to see if this feeling rang true. He wanted you more than you could know, more than he thought possible. He couldn’t take advantage of you like this, not right now… not ever. He cuffed your cheek, kissing your forehead before you, wishing you a good night.

Burning something evoked a wide range of emotions in Joe, a symbol of something new shifting in the atmosphere. The flicker of a match igniting, the scent of smoke swirling in the air, and the crackle of flames consuming the body— the overwhelming sensory experiences that engage him in the death of Benji. He stood over the growing flames, watching them dance against his body; Joe thought he would feel at ease. He couldn’t–his mind racing back to you and Rafi. Joe grew angry, feeling compelled to kill Benji; he was powerless against the woe of Beck, her smile and innocence being stripped away. It's as if his autonomy is being stripped away, leaving him feeling vulnerable and exposed. The heightened feelings of frustration and resentment began to grow through this loss of control. 

He thought of you as he smelled the charred remains of Benji, your face dancing in the flames. He sighed, pushing his forearm against his brow. He quickly dialed you; he needed to hear your voice. 

“Joey?” Joe heard you whisper, soothing all anxieties that rushed through him. His hand gripping the steering wheel. “Joey? Everything alright?” He hummed, letting his head rest against the steering wheel. It has been one month since he had forced his way into your apartment, leaving articles of clothing behind and coming up with any excuse to stay the night, not that you minded. He had a key to your apartment now, coming in the mornings and getting Rafi together for daycare as you prep for classes and graded papers. Your glasses hung off the bridge of your nose while you gnawed on the cap of the pen—your eyes shifting from the monitor to the paper as you scribbled some markings on it before moving on to the next. The way his lips danced against yours, his hands gently caressed your skin as your lips tangled.

“Yes, everything is alright.” He heard you shuffling, the covers shifting off your body. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, Joey, no, you didn’t. What’s wrong?” You could always read him; you would always tell. You didn’t even have to look at him to see that something was picking at him. He knew that you were good for him; you were everything that he needed you to be. Joe remained silent; the only that was heard was Rafi’s babbling. “Just come over and well talk, okay.”

“Okay.” Joe hung up and made his way to you, his head spinning from his recent murder. His fingers trembled as he pulled down your street, finding a parking spot adjacent to your apartment building. He moved out of the car. His key jingled in the locks swiftly; you swung open the door, watching in bewilderment. Worry drawn on your eyebrows and lips. “Joey, what is going on? Was it—”

“No…no, just Beck.” You nodded for a moment, allowing him to enter the apartment; slamming the door, you proceeded to deadbolt the locks. You stared at the final lock, trying to compose yourself; he wasn’t yours. You were just friends. Why did it hurt at the mention of her name at the thought of him being at her apartment, embracing her? “She just makes me insane, always having to watch her and look out for her. All the lies and the—” You picked up the clothes that scattered the floor, tossing them in Rafi’s dirty clothes hamper. Mindlessly, you grabbed the toys, tossing them in a bin as they interrupted his sentence. 

“I see.” was all you could mumble out, your eyes flickering to him. He continued to ramble about how he didn’t trust her–how she was always so secretive around him. But that was Beck; the doe-like look in her eyes always masked the truth that crawled beneath the surface. She was manipulative; everything she did was calculated and meticulous. Her bold red lip contrasted against her pale skin, and her dress revealed just enough of her thigh to keep her professor yearning for more. The way she teased and poked at man’s most animalistic and primitive yearning, dangling it in front of their face before yanking it. You turned to face him, letting the hamper fall against the floor. 

“I frankly don’t want to hear about Beck. I understand she’s your girlfriend or whatever she is but, I can’t take hearing about her. When you’re sitting in my apartment, helping me take care of my son… playing house with me. I don’t want to hear about Beck. I get enough of her when I am with them. Every issue that plagues her, I hear about, all the damn time. Benji, you, the Captian. I can’t–I just can’t do it.” You turn away, heated you move into the bathroom face burning with embarrassment and angry. Angrily you slapped at the knob, turning on the hot water on. It screeched for a moment before the hot water spit out.

As you step into the shower, the hot water cascades over your skin, offering a momentary reprieve from the turmoil. Droplets dance across your body, carrying away the remnants of anger and frustration that cling to you like a heavy cloak. With each passing second, the tension melts away, replaced by a soothing sensation of renewal. You close your eyes, allowing the water to envelop you completely, washing away the Beck and Joe's monologue that echoed in your mind. Steam fills the air, wrapping you in a comforting embrace as you stand beneath the gentle stream, letting it cleanse your body and soul. Slowly, the weight of the conversation begins to lift, replaced by a sense of clarity and calm. In this sanctuary of steam and solitude, you find solace. You sighed as the shower opened; you saw his feet planted in the shower and the sound of a soft sigh resting in the air. You feel his hands gliding against your waist, pulling you closer to him. His lips pecked your shoulder, sucking in the aroma that cascaded around him. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?”  His hand gently drummed your abdomen, his cock hardening against you as he pecked at you, his hands moving to your breast, kneading at them slowly, letting his fingers squeeze and tug at your nipples. 

“Please, forgive me” he whispered; you couldn’t say no to him. So, you nodded, turning around fully to face him. Pressing a gently kiss against his lip, stepping out of the shower, grabbing the towel as you instantly moved to Rafi’s crib. 

As the tears streamed down his Rafi’s flushed cheeks, Joe’s heart ached with empathy. With gentle hands, he lifted the sobbing child into his arms, cradling him against his chest, his hand rubbing circles against his back something that he noticed his mom and he liked. Leaning close, he murmured soothing words in a soft, reassuring tone, his voice a balm to the boy's distressed soul. With each gentle stroke of his hand and whispered promise, Joe felt the tension begin to melt away from his Rafi’s trembling form. He rocked him back and forth, a steady rhythm that mirrored the beating of his own heart, a silent vow to always be there to chase away the shadows and dry the tears. Joe moved back your bed, and you reached out your arms, allowing Rafi to settle into your chest and Joe to cuddle back into your side. Rafi was a crybaby and wanted you to hold him 25/8; you wanted to break him out of that habit. Joe and you had been working on getting him to sleep through the night in his crib, it would only last two nights out of the week before Joe caved and dragged himself to Rafi’s crib, engulfing him in his arms. You didn’t bother to correct him; you could tell that something was off with him. You two didn’t speak much after your moment the shower; you didn’t try to get him to speak either.

A heavy knock on the door had woken Joe; he hissed in frustration, moving the walker out of the way as he stumped his toe against it. He looked back, seeing Rafi whining for him, his arm stretched as he crawled closer to the edge of the bed. Joe scooped him up, snatching your phone and checking the time—7:37 AM. He grunted as he moved to unlock the deadbolts and finally the door. The door swung open, revealing Peach. Her eyes widened as she glanced at Joe; quickly, she shook her head, trying to find the right words to say but couldn’t. Peach observed him, eyes squinted in fury and confusion. “She’s sleeping Peach.”

She called out your name, moving into the living room, her eyes falling on you as you lay in bed. Her head snapped to Joe, realizing that he was in his boxers. “What the fuck! What did you do to her?” Peach asked as she tried to grab Rafi. Joe stiffed her and backed away as she continued to reach for your son. 

Joe held Rafi tightly in his arms as Peach had her outstretched arms and a determined frown on her face. Ignoring Joe’s protective grip, Peach reached for the child, her fingers brushing against Joe’s before clasping around the little one's hand. Joe’s heart skipped a beat, a surge of protectiveness welling up within him. He pulled back, his hand resting against Rafi’s back as he watched Peach’s face morph, her eyes narrowing before he turned her attention to you. 

“Peach? What–What are you doing?” You shifted from the covers, you were in a grey crewneck, a B printed in brown and outlined in red. Your hair messing tied away from your face as you squinted to fully focus on her. 

“No! No—what are you doing?” She hisses, stomping towards you, your finger jabbing into the air as she throws her hands dramatically. 

“Peach, he was just—I saw Dominick. Since then, he has been here for me. Nothing… Nothing else has been going on.” You shouted over her rambles. Something in her face changed; she slammed her mouth shut, looking at you, taking in your words. She grabbed the back of her arm, holding it tighter to her person. Joe noticed the slight change in her demeanor at the mention of Dominick; he scared her. 

“Did you–” You quickly shook her hand, stretching out your hands for Rafi; Joe quickly moved to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as Rafi crawled into your lap. Joe’s hands rested on top of yours; he pressed his lips against Rafi’s head before cuffing your chin. He rose to his feet. He grabbed his things, placing them on his clothes. He jiggled his phone before leaving out of your apartment, a silent single for you to call him when she leaves. “When did that happen?”

“Nothing happened. He just was here for me at the time and… I trust him.” Peach laughs, sitting on the bed. 

“Trust him, absolutely not. You know he’s playing you just like he’s playing Beck!” You rolled your eyes, unsure of what to make of her accusations. I mean, they weren’t incorrect in their entirety. Joe had a fleeting romance with Beck and probably still does. “He’s using you. I lost Beck to him, and I am not going to lose you. In this stupid ideology where you think you need him! You don’t need him! I am here for you; call me if you are feeling scared; call me if you are feeling down!” 

“I know” you mumbled, caressing Rafi. “I shouldn’t trust him” you confessed. “I really shouldn’t” a bitter laugh left your throat as you chocked on a sob that rose in your throat. 

“He could be like Rafael! You are so blinded by love that you didn’t see it then, but I did, and now, I do.” Peach whispered, as she inched in Joe’s spot. Resting her head against your chest, her hands wrapping against your torso. 

 Joe stood outside the closed door, his fists clenched at his sides, he strained to hear the muffled voices from within. Anger simmered beneath his skin, fueled by the snippets of conversation that reached his ears. Each word felt like a dagger, piercing through the thin veneer of his composure. He could hear her strained voice, a mixture with a Peach’s voice—a voice that grated on his nerves like sandpaper. His jaw tightened, muscles coiling with tension as he fought the urge to burst through the door and confront the source of his jealousy head-on. The temptation to intervene, to demand answers, pulsed through him like a steady drumbeat, drowning out reason and restraint. With every passing moment, his anger mounted, a raging inferno threatening to consume him whole. Yet, for now, he remained on the other side of the door, a silent witness to his own unraveling emotions. Something needed to happen, Peach was always in the way, the intricate dance of relationships that she always blocked. Stepping on his toes and stealing you away from him. Tangling you in her grasp, the same spell that Beck was under.  She was a figure looming in the background, casting a shadow over any potential romance that Joe worked so hard to grow and nourish. Her presence was like a shield, deflecting any attempts at romantic advancement with a casual remark or a well-timed interruption. 

He needed to kill her; her undoing was all the fault of her own. 

Goodbye Peach Sallinger. 

#imagines #imagine #request #requested #joe goldberg x you #joe goldberg imagines #joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg #peach salinger #you imagine

[avatar-anna]

Love on Tour: The Documentary, Part 2

we all know harry is working on a documentary, so this is my take on how young dad!harry would approach it!

and now a little key:

bold and italics: camera directions, or what you would be seeing as a viewer of the documentary in person

just italics: interviewer questions, or people who are speaking off camera

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

Part 1 Part 3

In the interview room with Harry.

“There are some pretty heavy songs on Fine Line.”

Harry scratches his chin and looks away from the camera. “Yeah.”

“You’ve said in the past that you write from personal experience. Where did songs like ‘Cherry’ and ‘Falling’ come from?

“Uh...Not the uh…not the best time of my life.”

Cut to Y/n’s interview.

“Harry is…the most hard working person I’ve ever met. He wants to do everything he does with a hundred and ten percent. Almost to a fault, and there—there were moments where I felt like he was choosing his career over his family. You know, once One Direction went on hiatus, I thought things were gonna be different. I thought we would have more time together as a family, but we started falling into the same cycles. Write, promote, tour.”

Cut to Harry.

“Were you choosing your career over family?”

“I know how Y/n felt back then, and we’ve talked about it at length since then,” Harry says. “I think…I think at the time I only knew one way of having a music career and providing for my family, and it worked, so I almost felt like I had to keep that momentum. After the first tour ended, I came home and we spent time together, but…All I’ll say was it was tense.”

Cut to Y/n.

“I often think the pandemic was a blessing in disguise.”

“Really? Why?”

Y/n looks down at her lap before answering. “Because I was done.”

Cut to clips of Harry in Japan and in recording studios with his team.

Harry’s voiceover: “I’d never felt truly alone until we separated. To some it may seem odd because I was touring so much anyway, but I spoke to my family every day. I don’t think a day had ever gone by that I didn’t speak to Y/n. I wanted to give Y/n space, and I felt so lost, so I just kind of…stayed away. It was so hard. All I kept thinking was, ‘I did this. This is my fault.’ I eventually started writing down how I felt, but…yeah. Not something I look back on with pride.”

Back to Harry’s interview.

“Why talk about any of this at all?”

Harry’s eyes are red and watery, as if he had just been crying. “It was part of this whole journey. It wouldn’t be authentic of me to only share the good parts. Fine Line is introspective. It’s an album about high highs and low lows, so it only makes sense to kind of…express what I was going through to make me feel a certain way while writing.”

Cut to Y/n’s interview.

“What was it like to hear Fine Line for the first time?”

“Jeff told me H jetted off to Japan to write songs for the next album, and I didn’t see him until after it was nearly ready to be released. I wanted him to fight for us, but he just left. It solidified for me how much we needed to take a little time apart and figure out what we wanted. I was…resentful going into it. It felt like his music was tearing us apart, and he went to write more. But…”

Y/n wipes a tear from her eye.

“He…He was hurting as much as I was, and I was partially to blame.”

When asked to elaborate about the children during that time, both Harry and Y/n refused to comment.

Cut to an interview with Jeffrey Azoff, Harry’s long time friend and manager.

“I have a lot of respect for the both of them,” Jeff says. “What the two of them went through together, what Y/n endured all those years. Being a parent is hard enough, add everything else they put up with on top of that?”

Jeff shakes his head.

“But Harry went on a huge tour under your management.”

“An error on my part. And his,” he says. “I think we were so excited to start his career, and as a manager who has a client who loves live performances, it felt like a no brainer. I could tell that H was going to be someone explosive in the music industry, and I let that kind of cloud my vision.”

Jeff also reveals that he has since apologized to Y/n and that they are on good terms.

“So how did you go about promotion for Fine Line?”

“It was tricky, you know, because to the outside world, why wouldn’t H be doing all the talk shows and interviews and things like that? To everyone who didn’t know what was going on, he had all the time in the world and no obligations, but that obviously wasn’t the case.”

“Were there ever conversations to reveal his family to the public?”

Cut to Y/n and Harry in an interview room together.

“We talked about our options moving forward,” Harry says. “But we decided the best way to protect the kids’ privacy was if no one knew I had a wife and kids.”

“Definitely not easy,” Y/n says, but not impossible.”

Clips of Harry on various talk shows (Late Late Show, Ellen DeGeneres, Graham Norton) and at the Jingle Bell Ball, and One Night Only at the Forum appear. Some are of him performing, others are of him rehearsing, and one in a green room with Y/n, Simone, and Collette sitting on a couch.

Harry’s voiceover: “We decided on a couple talk show appearances in places where I could drive home afterwards, and longer breaks between tour destinations,” he says. “I was prepared to hold off on the album release so that I could spend more time at home, but Y/n wouldn’t let me.”

Back to Y/n.

“Keeping him from doing what he loves was never the goal,” Y/n says. “I just wanted there to be a balance. The kids were getting older and had more things going on, and I didn’t want their earliest memories of their dad to be that he was gone all the time. H wouldn’t be the same person if he didn’t have his music, but he also wouldn’t be the same without us. I never wanted him to give up his life for us, but things needed to be different.”

“Global lockdown was certainly different.”

She nods. “I think H saw it as an opportunity to…make up for lost time. It was difficult for obvious reasons. Online learning, keeping the kids entertained all day, staying inside, the toilet paper thing, but we’d never been the kind of family that spent so much time under the same roof before. It was strange, but also really nice.”

Back to Harry.

“You know, obviously I was bummed that I put out this album that I was really proud of and couldn’t perform it the way I wanted to, and there were already so many fans who bought tickets. I felt like I was letting them down too. But at the same time, it forced me and Y/n to share common space after so much time apart. I wasn’t about to take that for granted.”

This was all Harry and Y/n were willing to talk about concerning their separation. They did not say how long they were apart or when they officially mended things.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

In another interview room are four children.

“Can you state your name for the interview, please?”

“Simone Styles.”

“Nicoletta Anne Styles.”

“Maeve!”

When the fourth child doesn’t answer, Maeve does it for him.

“And that’s JuJu.”

“No it’s not!”

“Then say your name!”

“My name is Julian.”

“Do you know what your dad does for a living?”

“He travels a lot,” Maeve says. “Sometimes we get to go with him!”

“Daddy sings onstage,” Julian says.

“And on the radio!”

“He’s a musician,” Simone says.

“Do you have a favorite song that your dad sings?”

They all begin to talk over each other.

“I like Adore You!”

“As It Was!”

“Only because you were in it.”

“Baby Shark!”

“I like his One Direction songs,” Collette says.

“So you know who One Direction is?”

“Yeah,” Simone says while the rest nod.

“Simone, do you remember anything about your dad being in One Direction?”

“Not really. But Mom likes to tell stories about all the cool places we got to go together.”

“What is the coolest thing about your dad?”

“Did he tell you to ask us that?” Maeve asks.

The whole crew laughs.

“No, he didn’t.”

“I like when he plays with my toy cars. Sometimes we make a really big racetrack with, like, loops and stuff,” Julian says.

“I like when he plays tea party with me!”

“I like it when Dad picks me up from school early so we can go shopping together,” Simone says.

Back to Harry and Y/n’s shared interview.

“You do what?”

“It was only a couple of times!” Harry says in his defense.

Y/n gives Harry a stern look before she says, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Mmhm.”

Harry looks at the camera. “She does this to scare me. Pretends like everything’s fine and then grills me later.”

Back to the interview with Simone, Collette, Maeve, and Julian.

“What was it like being in lockdown together?”

“It was really fun!” Maeve says.

“We played lots of games and did campouts in the backyard and stuff,” Simone added.

“I learned how to ride a bike!”

Collette tilts her head to the side. “Well, it was mostly fun. When Mom and Maeve got sick it was not so fun.”

“I think Daddy was in over his head,” Julian says.

Cut to Harry and Y/n’s interview.

“I was not ‘in over my head.’ We were fine. Better than fine, even.”

Y/n looks at the camera, clearly amused. “He called me crying several times.”

“How did you and Maeve quarantine while you were sick?”

“We took our bedroom,” Y/n says, gesturing between her and Harry. “And they would bring us meals and everything. I was a little worried because GiGi was only a couple months old, but we made it work.”

“Why were you crying so much, Harry?”

“It wasn’t so much. But…I think we’re all used to having Y/n around, and sometimes Simone and Collette would argue, and Julian missed having Maeve around, and you know, was looking after a newborn during all of it. Y/n is truly the glue that holds this family together.”

“He got really good at braiding my hair!”

Everyone laughs at the little voice off camera, which turns away from Harry and Y/n to where Collette is sitting in a director’s chair. Then the camera swivels back to Harry and Y/n.

“She’s right. I am a master at the French braid.

Cut to a home video of Simone and Collette with Harry filming.

“Welcome to our home!” Simone says. She spreads her arms wide as she presents the front room of the house to the camera.

Both Simone and Collette proceed to give a tour of the whole house. They show a kitchen, a home theater, what they call “Daddy’s office,” which appears to be a converted recording studio, and the twins’ bedroom.

“This is my room. I share it with Simone,” Collette says.

Simone shows off the bedroom, which has white walls with pastel accents. Lots of stuffed animals on two beds with princess canopies and a small sofa. There are two rugs on the floor, a white one with a textured pink and purple smiley face and another white one with an orange pattern. A teddy bear bean bag chair sits by one of the beds. There’s a bay window with a small mattress and curtains with hand-stitched cherries on them. “A project completed by yours truly,” Harry says about the bay window bed. “I’ve become quite the handyman during lockdown. And an interior decorator.”

“Dad!” they both cry.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll keep quiet from now on.”

The “tour” ends in Harry and Y/n’s room, where Y/n lays on the bed. Her belly is big, clearly several months pregnant. She smiles as Simone and Collette approach.

“What’s going on here?” she asks.

“We’re giving a house tour!” Collette says as she jumps on the bed. “This is our last stop.”

“We’re gonna send it to Nana and Auntie Gemma and…”

Simone rattles off all the names they plan to send their video to.

“Wow! And I see you have your own cameraman,” Y/n says.

“He’s good, but we have some notes,” Collette says, and Simone agrees.

“That’s it. No more cameraman. I’m the tickle monster,” Harry says.

Simone and Collette scream and run away, and the video ends shortly after that.

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young mom! reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

[shuahoonie]

about you | joshua hong

pairing: non-idol!joshua (svt) x gn!reader

notes: tooth-aching fluff, swearing, alcohol consumption, platonic!svt x reader, drunken confessions, mutual pining, friends to lovers ?

word count: 1.5k

summary: a drunk and sulky joshua won't leave you alone until you tell him you love him back.

“come get ur man pls” a text from seungkwan appeared on the top of your phone while you were scrolling absentmindedly on tiktok.

tonight was one of the rare nights that the boys had a relatively free weekend. it was the perfect chance for them to catch up and have a drink or two.

though you anticipated that the boys were going to get wasted, you didn’t expect joshua to be one of them.

joshua hong can usually hold his liquor well. joshua hong also knows when to stop drinking when he’s almost at his limit.

however, seungkwan’s unsolicited yet appreciated updates have disproven all things you thought you knew about joshua’s drinking habits.

“are you not having fun, jihoon?” you teased. it wasn’t long before jihoon decided to call you.

“i’m close to committing murder,” jihoon muttered from the other line “you have to come and help me here.”

“what about seungkwan?”

“he’s got his hands full from soonyoung alone,” jihoon stated. “please, i did not ask to babysit grown men.”

“you guys got this!” you wanted to laugh. “is josh—“

“he’s the worst one! i don’t even know what’s gotten into him, he’s so sulky all of a sudden” jihoon was frustrated “please, just come here and at least accompany joshua.”

“is that yn on the line?” you heard seungkwan from the other line “ynnie! please, if you truly love me, you’d come and save me from this misery.”

“you guys are not making a compelling case, you know.” you teased knowing well enough that jihoon and seungkwan were getting frustrated. “besides, i was quite firm that tonight is your night to bond as a group.”

“we’ve bonded for years! please,” seungkwan practically cried on the other line “oh god, soonyoung’s standing on the a table— hyung! get down from there!”

you can hear the chaos from their line and you feel bad that they had to endure all of this. “are you guys still at wonu’s?” you asked already putting your jacket on and grabbing your keys.

“yes! please hurry!”

by the time you got to the dorms, you were mentally preparing for the rowdiness that you could hear emitting from the other side of the door.

"ynnie!" soonyoung ran to the doors to greet you with a suffocating hug "are you finally here to confess your undying love for joshy?" he asked, sparkles practically dancing in his eyes.

"soonie, you're drunk." you tried to laugh it off, obviously flustered by the comment. "why don't you go see if wonu or vernon can grab you some water, yeah?"

soonyoung pouted but eventually obliged.

"yn!" seungkwan was practically in tears when he greeted you with a hug "i really thought you were going to let me fend off for myself."

"you know i actually thought about it," you teased. seungkwan, obviously who was not in the mood for fooling around, threw daggers at you. "now where's—"

"ynnie!" joshua’s entire face practically brightened when he saw you look for him. “oh wait, no, i forgot i’m mad.” he pouted as he crossed his arms.

you found joshua squished between jeonghan and mingyu in one of the couches. jun was sprawled all over the loveseat, clearly passed out, while minghao and chan sat on the floor. they all gave you kind smiles as you approached them closer.

“yn! come, sit beside me,” jeonghan offered with a lopsided smile. you can tell he was buzzed too.

“no, yn has to sit next to me!” joshua moped with a huff.

jeonghan put his arms in defeat. "i was suggesting that yn should sit in between us, but it's okay. yn can sit next to you and only you." he teased, prompting joshua to glare at him.

"i think i'll just stand" you stated awkwardly, grabbing the can of coke that jihoon politely offered. seungcheol, who was standing right next to you let out a teasing laugh. "what are you laughing at?" you raised an eyebrow at him.

"it's just cute how you and shua keep dancing around each other's feelings, obviously ignoring the fact that you two like each other," he grinned.

you elbowed him in the rib, making him groan and mumble a string of profanities.

"what? but it's true! i know we were drinking that day, but i will never forget the most lovesick giggle i heard from you when shua congratulated you over phone," cheol teased in a hushed tone. curse cheol's memory.

"choi seungcheol, speak another word and i will break your nose." you grumbled, which only made cheol laugh even more.

"what are you two whispering about?" hao asked you and cheol while he quietly observed joshua's change in demeanour, which didn't go unnoticed.

"oh, you know, how i love love," cheol said in a teasing tone. "and watching people i love fall in love," he sighed.

you rolled your eyes and took a sip of the coke, of hoping that cheol drops the topic soon. your eyes briefly scanned joshua's face though, he still had his arms crossed, pouting like there was no tomorrow.

minghao, who instantly picked up cheol's cryptic statement, couldn't help but laugh. mingyu, who was quietly sipping his beer, was fighting off a smile too. fuck, am i that obvious?

gyu cleared off his throat, "does anyone want more samgyupsal?" he asked, ready to head towards the kitchen.

"yeah, we can help." minghao said, grabbing chan by the arm, confused by everything. "c'mon chan, let's see what's in their fridge."

"you can take my seat, ynnie," mingyu grinned as he pinched your cheeks passing by, prompting you to slap his hand. "so cute, our shua and ynnie."

it wasn't long before the rest of the guys followed gyu to the kitchen, leaving you and joshua alone on the couch— as well as a sleeping jun.

this was definitely a sight for sore eyes. when joshua drinks, he can usually handle his alcohol quite well. he also doesn’t really get blackout drunk. so all this? a pouty, sulky, practically red, and wasted joshua was something you’ve never encountered.

"joshua," you nudged him softly "can you please tell me why you're mad?"

"i thought i was your joshuji?" he pointed out softly. he looked adorable and it was not doing your heart any good.

"okay, my joshuji," you laughed "can you tell me why you're mad?"

"it's because you didn't say it back," he huffed.

you were genuinely confused. "say what back?" you asked before taking a sip from your drink.

"i love you," the way he stated it so easily and with nonchalance made you choke on your coke. "see? you're not saying it back."

"shuji, when did you even say that?" you asked in between coughs.

"earlier," he mumbled before slouching lower so he can rest his head on your shoulder. "when seungkwan called you."

"ynnie! how am i just finding out that you're not going to be here?!" seungkwan yelled over the phone. you can hear the chaos from the other line and from what you can tell, they're playing a drinking game.

"because i figured you guys needed to bond without me looming and babysitting each one of you," you answered as you scanned through your cupboards, looking for something to eat.

"but i miss you!" seungkwan cried. "how am i supposed to endure all of this when— i just took a shot! why is it my turn again?"

"okay, seungkwan love shot!" you heard joshua yell gleefully.

"kwannie, was that joshua?" you asked laughing.

"yeah, your boyfriend has been way too comfortable passing shots around." seungkwan grumbled then paused "hold on, i think—"

"ynnieee," joshua drawled out your name "love youuu."

"shua, can you pass the phone to seungkwan please?" you asked chuckling.

"yes? did you change your mind?" seungkwan's tone was full of hope.

"no, but can you keep tabs on joshua? it seems like he's going to drink more than he normally does."

"you can do that yourself, you know." you could just feel kwannie rolling his eyes. "he's not my boyfriend."

"he's not mine either!"

"he might as well be!" seungkwan pointed out "you two have been acting way too affectionate for a pair of friends."

"just watch him for me," you sighed "please, kwannie?"

"fine."

ah. that phone call.

"i was actually telling seungkwan to watch over you but i guess he got his hands full," you said softly to joshua.

"why?"

"what do you mean why?"

"why did you ask seungkwan to do that?"

"because i care about you?" you answered, though you weren't really sure why joshua was asking you this.

"okay," joshua sighed, nearly content with your answer. nearly.

his hand found yours though and clasped his fingers against yours. it's not like this is all new to you. you were quite used to joshua being clingy, more so when drunk.

"yn?" you hummed. "i love you" he mumbled softly.

"yeah, me too."

"why aren't you saying it back properly?" he sulked. god, not this again.

"i love you too, shuji," you said softly and that was true.

"really?" joshua asked as if you weren't sure, making you laugh.

"yeah."

"okay, because i really love you," he sighed, fully content this time. "in this life and in our next one."

hello! it's been a while since i wrote anything remotely related to fanfics! so, i hope this is still fine. hehe.

#seventeen x reader #joshua hong x reader #seventeen imagines #joshua hong imagines #seventeen fluff #joshua hong fluff #seventeen scenarios #joshua hong scenarios #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt x you #shuahoonie writes

[iwritefandomimagines]

KISS AND TELL — ROBERT CHASE

masterlist

pairing: robert chase x reader

description: after endless mutual pining, you and chase finally hooked up over the weekend. you agreed to keep it a secret while you figured things out, but it doesn’t last long with the team around.

warnings: swearing, possibly a tiny bit ooc while i’m trying to figure out how i write the house characters, nothing else really. just the team teasing you both and a lil kissing in a closet

author’s note: am a sucker for house atm so pleaaase keep house related requests coming 🫶

“Mm,” you hummed against Chase’s lips as you pushed his chest gently away across the front seats of his car, “Taking things slow, huh?”

He smiled guiltily, pulling the keys from the ignition as he pulled away from you and pocketed them, “A little kiss is hardly rushing things after the weekend we’ve had, don’t you think?”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes.

You’d been (badly) concealing feelings for Chase for almost as long as you had been working in close proximity to him.

Everyone else was more than aware of it, but it had taken a drunken dinner to finally ease confessions from you both.

It was supposed to be a friendly dinner to round off a really stressful week.

But a few bottles of wine had stripped away your inhibitions and you’d made it more than clear that hiding your attraction to him had been an almost impossible task.

He’d confirmed his reciprocation with a quick, dazed kiss, and before you knew it you were staying at his house and wouldn’t be leaving until almost 48 hours later when you made a quick stop at home for a change of clothes before work.

Okay — taking things slow had been your idea, but even you knew it wasn’t going to work. Not when you’d felt the way you felt for so long, and especially not after all that had gone down that weekend.

Truth be told you were dizzy with how he made you feel, and as much as you wanted to keep scolding him for the PDA (well, hidden away in his car), the feeling of his lips on yours was one you wouldn’t get sick of.

“I guess you’re right,” you bit your lip, beginning to gather your things to head into the hospital for another long week, “But we have to keep this from them all, at least for now. I’m in no mood for House’s ‘I told you so’s today.”

“Gotcha.”

And so you entered separately, pretending to have arrived conveniently at the same time but not together.

Unbeknownst to you, Foreman had seen you get out of the car — and though he didn’t see you kiss, his suspicions got the better of him anyway.

So when Chase entered House’s office as was customary of a morning of late, Foreman followed close behind with a smug smirk on his face.

“You and Y/N, huh? Finally,” he teased, arms folded over his chest as he watched the panic flush Chase’s features, “I saw her get out of your car with you.”

“I—We— I didn’t think anyone saw us,” he replied, flustered, and House’s head snapped up from the crossword he was busying himself with to join in with the teasing, “You finally made a move, then?”

Chase’s head fell back in dismay.

Not only had he promised you not to tell them, but he was going to have to endure their teasing all fucking day about it.

What he should’ve done was say your car had broken down and he’d offered you a lift. Shit. Why didn’t he just say that?

Now he watched you approach the door to the office with a bright smile on your face and had to deal with knowing that it would soon be wiped away by your stupid friends because of his stupid mistake.

“Good morning, Y/N,” House smiled, and your eyes narrowed at the unusually cheery tone gracing his words, but you matched it anyway, “Morning Greg!”

“Wow, someone woke up on the right side of Chase’s bed this morning,” Foreman snickered, and immediately your eyes snapped to a panic stricken Chase as his eyes flickered between you and Foreman repeatedly.

You drew in a sharp breath, contemplating how best to express your irritation without completely losing your cool.

You weren’t embarrassed by everyone finding out, but you really didn’t want their teasing comments and constant watchful gazes to ruin the early stages of a relationship you’d been pining for for what felt like forever.

“What did you tell them?”

Posing the question to Chase that way meant you weren’t confirming anything, and he seemed to understand your angle as he gulped and scratched his head.

“Nothing— they assumed because Foreman saw you get out of my car that there must be something going on,” he rambled, and you rolled your eyes.

“And, if I recall correctly, your reply was that you didn’t think anyone saw you,” House quipped, “Which is hardly a denial, lovebirds.”

You scoffed, “Can friends not give each other a ride to work without it meaning they’re fucking?”

You saw Chase’s face flush crimson at your choice language, knowing it was far more than that.

“Hold on, nobody said you were just fucking,” House corrected you matter-of-factly, “You two are always staring at each other all gooey-eyed and it’s frankly revolting. But at least you’ve acted on it, finally.”

“You’re not gonna let this go until we admit it, are you?” you sighed, defeated.

Neither House nor Foreman said a word in response to that, instead choosing to silently smirk at you both.

“Fine,” you gave in, sauntering to Chase’s side, “We are seeing how things go. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“I’d argue that it is,” House’s lips were pressed together in a thin line as he paused for a moment, “But at least I’ve made a lot of money out of this.”

You rolled your eyes at him, glancing over at Foreman who was pulling money from his wallet from their apparent bet about how soon you and Chase would cave and admit your feelings.

“You guys are insufferable, you know that?” you huffed, half-joking, “If anything you make me want us to be more in your face about it.”

“Oh please, don’t pretend you want to shove excess PDA in our faces to annoy us,” Cameron laughed, hand on her hip as she smiled at you. She was genuinely happy for you, if not frustrated you hadn’t told her, “We all see the way you look at each other. You’ve wanted to eat each other’s faces since you transferred here, Y/N.”

You scoffed, “God, was it that obvious?”

You looked over at Chase now, and watched him ogle at you with his puppy-dog eyes.

Maybe they were right, maybe it had always been this obvious.

“I’m going to go get us some coffees, alright?” you glanced around the room with piercing eyes, “And when I get back, you are all going to go back to pretending none of what has happened this morning happened.”

“I’ll come with you!” Chase flew back to your side as you left the room, and you heard the team mumbling about you both as he did so.

You nudged his shoulder as you left, “I can’t believe you, Chase!”

“Hey, they didn’t give me a choice,” he pouted, but he was sure all the stress of pissing you off melted away entirely at the sound of your sweet laughter, “But—,”

He tugged you into a storage cupboard just shy of House’s office, “I’m kind of glad they know. I know I still can’t kiss you at work and stuff but, it’s relieving not hiding it from them now.”

“Now? We didn’t even have five minutes of hiding it anyway,” you giggled, enjoying the close proximity to him again, “C’mon, as much as I’d like to hide away in here with you all day, we do have work to do.”

His lips found yours quickly, and your hands tangled in his hair in a moment of weakness as you leaned into the kiss.

“Sorry, had to indulge myself once,” he sing-songed as he pulled away, opening the door and shuffling out, “Back to work, Dr. Y/L/N. Well, back to the coffee run.”

You giggled as you followed him out, checking that nobody was around to see you slip out of a closet together for god’s sake.

Unluckily for you, Wilson rounded the corner towards House’s office just in time to catch you staring doe-eyed at each other as you began to head down to get the team their coffees.

A smirk spread across his face, soon replaced with a scowl as he leaned into House’s office, “You’ll never guess who I just saw together.”

House shrugged, “Sadly, Sherlock Holmes, I can. And I’ll take the 50 bucks you owe me now.”

———

i hope this was okay !!! let me know if you enjoyed please because feedback motivates me massively!

if you have any requests please go ahead, and in the meantime here is my masterlist!

#robert chase #dr robert chase #robert chase x reader #robert chase x you #robert chase x y/n #chase x reader #house #house md #house md imagine #robert chase one shot #robert chase imagine

[writingescapades]

Peafowls II - Peahen

Very few people knew when he really came back, and Kakavasha preferred it that way. He was welcomed back by Topaz and Ratio, but soon left alone in the spare bedroom. He didn’t have to wait long. Funny how despite the many months he was away, he could still pick up on your presence. You were finally together but there was no happy reunion. There was just a tense atmosphere and two people stuck behind habits ingrained into their bones.

He looked away from you and you knew why. He was giving you a choice. To show vulnerability? A test of wits? Or anger? What did you want to show him? You looked at his back. Did you even want him? Ignoring everything, did you want him truly?

How would you feel if he went away, disappeared again? If the last memory of his was his back? If that was the last memory of him in his world?

Your chest tightened. He was human. He could die. He would die. Could you live with it? Your chest tightened. You should be brave, make the first move. Dare to indulge for once, to wager against a regretful decision.

His back was right there. You should just move. But you leaned against a desk and clenched the edge hard in your right hand.

His back was waiting. He should just say something. But your chest tightened harshly, and your throat began to close.

Calm down. You closed your eyes. Calm down.

He’s not dead yet.

He’s right here.

You inhaled deeply, willing the emotion down.

You’re fine. He’s fine. Nothing’s going wrong. Don’t get emotional. It has no use here. Truth does.

Say something!

You clenched harder against the table, fingertips turning white. Why was it so hard?

Did he say something? You heard noise. His voice. Closer.

His back was gone.

Gone.

He called out to you, concern laced in his voice. All games and pretenses were down.

“You’re fine,” you blustered out.

Damn! Calm down! Don’t be useless now. Where are your words?!

He called out to you again, “Are you—”

Humiliation spread throughout. You were not!

“Don’t hide yourself. Not in front of me. It’s okay. After all we’ve been through. I deserve it”.

The tears pooled out. You shut your eyes, scrunched them up tight. You don’t understand. You deserve much more than tears.

“You’re fine,” you warbled out before sinking to the floor.

Kakavasha sank with you, arms wrapping around trying to cushion you. You buried your head in his lap, ashamed of your face. Your arms gripped his clothes.

“I’m fine,” he whispered.

He didn’t fully understand the situation. But his uncertainty was gone. How could it linger when he could fell how tightly you gripped his clothes taking care not to pinch his skin. The sudden vulnerability. The tears. You caved, but he didn’t see it that way.

“Ah my goddess blesses me with rain once more,” he teased.

A snort. Two chuckles. The tears stop as quickly as they came. Then Kakavasha hears a low voice carrying the fortitude he was familiar with.

“I’ll do better than your goddesses”.

“Oh,” he cooed. “How so?”

“I’ll love you”.

There it was. The words he was dying to say and terrified to hear. Those words you both danced around since you first partnered together. It was unfair of him to desire it really. A malicious part of him wondered though. The goddess blessed him, and he suffered all sorts of miseries. What would your love do to him? What more would he have to endure? Could he even bare it?

But don’t you want this?

Yes. That really was the thin line. Kakavasha never wanted the goddess’s blessing. He was barely holding onto life with the weight it held in his mind. But the weight on his lap? He could bare it. This goddess who sobbed on his lap because she loved him beyond her own comprehension. He wanted it.

“Thank You”. Why you wanted to love him, he didn’t know. He just started to believe in it, but was still too scared to question it. His soft thanks whispered into your ear would be the first of many thanks he would say as you built each other and your relationship, but it would transform, and one day Kakavasha would bestow you with an “I love you”.

#hsr #hsr x reader #honkai impact #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #kakavasha #kakavasha hsr #kakavasha x reader

[kenzuieee]

his preference - ft bonten men

during yet another bonten meeting where the men are smoking and drinking, the executives mind’s begin to take a turn. “we aren’t talking about anything important today huh” ran asks as he takes a long drag from his tightly rolled blunt. “When are we ever?” rindou darts, slouching into the dark leather sofa. “how about we confess some things we’ve never told anyone before, i know some of you sick fucks do weird shit all the time. ran asks, catching the attention of the other 7 men.

“Well..i’ve eaten ass before”

ASS ASS ASS

hes DEFINIETLYYYY a bottom feeder, he literally begs you to let him eat your ass during sex. “cmon princess, lemme just get one taste. promise that’ll be it” he says as he rubs firm circles on your clit, watching you writhe and squirm underneath him with doe eyes. he who stares at your ass any chance he gets without caring about who notices, oh and he’d totally grab it in public just to see you get all flustered. he who “accidentally” slips his dick in the wrong hole.

“oops, sorry princess.” he says as he bottoms out in your ass, ignoring the annoyed looks you shoot his way. he couldn’t help himself, he was too obsessed with your plump ass.

he’d literally try his hardest to hold his composure as he unlocks his phone to see pictures of your plump ass sent with invisible ink, right along with an “i miss you :(” attached to the bottom of the message. it felt like torture, he couldn’t endure the longing and lust that came hardly seconds after receiving  the picture. poor thing, tried his hardest to cover his uncomfortably hard erection, the drive home was tantalizing for him. he sped down the road as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles practically turning white. oh you’d definitely pay for getting him all ecstatic during suchh an important meeting. you didnt know what awaited you the moment his car pulled into the garage. good luck to your cute little hole >.<

takeomi, rindou, kokonoi, & mochi.

p is for pussy !!

he spend the whole day buried between your legs if he could (literally..) there’d be times where you’d have to beg him to stop due to the insane amount of overstimulation you’d been receiving from. he just simply couldn’t help himself, how could he when your pussy was so pretty ? he’d take his sweet time admiring your pussy, he’d spread your lips using two fingers and blow on your clit, watching your euphoric reactions closely.

“you’re so addicting baby..you taste so sweet” he groans out as he’s slowly sucking on your clit. at this point he’s not even talking to you, he’s talking to your pussy. totally pussy whipped. he’d groan into your pussy while trying to avoid cumming in his pants. he eats it for his own pleasure honestly, he’s just so in love with your wet little hole. you have to ask yourself if you cast a spell on him..

there’d be days where he’d purposely leave his lunch you packed for him at home so you’d have a reason to come “drop it off for him.” the first time it happend, you weren’t shocked as he tends to forget things all the time, so when you get the call from him asking to drop his lunch off to his office, you don’t hesitate. nobody can work properly on an empty stomach now can they ? you arrive to bonten headquarters and tell them that you’re just here to drop off your boyfriend’s lunch and one of the secretaries tell you that he’s in his office.

before you knew it, you were cocked up on his desk with a hand covering your mouth as you tried to stifle your moans. there he was, slurping away at your pussy like a starved man who hadn’t seen food in ages. he left his office door unlocked on purpose, what a dickhead ! he knew there was a chance that someone would walk in on the two of you, did he care ? nope ! he continued rubbing small circles into your clit as he frantically kissed you, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. hes totally a sick fuck !

sanzu, mikey, ran, & kakucho

#bonten #tokyo revengers #bonten smut #mikey x y/n #ran haitani x reader #headcanon #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #rindou haitani x reader

[tarotwithlove]

pac ♡ a short message from your guides

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · TWITTER · TIPS ♡ tips and feedback are highly appreciated

GROUP ONE

“let go of the old story and of the life you once lived. you want so much more for yourself but do not make any attempt to go towards it.

you want so much more for yourself but you ignore our signs and messages because you are too afraid to leave the comfort of the life you have built.

do you want to be on your deathbed wishing you had lived your life for yourself? do you want to wake up every day and wish you had been brave enough to take a chance? to push yourself? to endure the difficulty that came with change?

we know how much you wish for change, and how much you ignore it. we are trying to bring your dream life to you but there is only so much we can do—and only so much we are willing to do before we stop trying entirely.

the greatness of your fear is almost admirable. some of us understand you, you must know that dear. some of our lives were so controlled by that same fear, asking ourselves every night, “what if my family no longer accepts me? what if i regret it? what if? what if? what if?”. until one day you wake up and you realise you have let your entire life pass you by. we want more than this for you.

we want you to live not just wish to live. we want you to want to live, so much that you fight for it”

GROUP TWO

“you are still struggling to find balance in your life. we are proud of you for how much you have overcome; how much you have healed; how much you have grown.

of course, we are proud, how could we not be? we recognize that at times our lessons were a bit too harsh for your heart, but there was no other way. you’re a bit stubborn to our messages, so if we have to take some extreme methods to get across to you, we will. and we have. and you have moved above all of the obstacles we’ve placed before you with ease.

the uncertainties and stresses and heartbreaks… all these lessons… and look at you now. we cannot help but look upon you with pride.

though, dear, there is still a need for you to try and find balance in your life. you are either too focused on work or too focused on love, and can never find a happy medium between these two things.

you long for love and connection but can you manage a relationship on top of all your other responsibilities? especially in a new connection with someone you have wanted to be with in this way for so long?

we know more than you can ever imagine but we only guide you so much. don’t just plunge into things without thinking them through. balance, remember?”

GROUP THREE

“your potential is limitless, more limitless than anyone could ever explain to you or that you could ever truly know and understand—especially right now.

you have so many dreams and you wonder how you are going to achieve all of them; wondering even as you persist in the knowledge that you will achieve everything you decide you will.

we have watched you through every moment of your life, and we are so moved by your will to live; your will to have better than anyone could ever imagine for you; your will to do anything but accept the life you have been given. don’t worry. you will have it all.

every effort you put in is being multiplied tenfold behind the scenes on our part. more than that. so much more than that. don’t focus on the hows or whys or whens, just know that you will be rewarded for all that you have done and are doing. and never, ever, worry that your manifestations and prayers are going unheard and not listened to.

for now, enjoy the little moments of the life that exists around you.

you will miss this peace and quiet when it’s gone.”

GROUP FOUR

“you may not want to admit it but that connection ending was the best thing that could have ever happened for you and your life.

and that is right: for you, not to you, because even when you felt like your life was falling apart it was just falling into place. and you are seeing so right now.

remember how tired you were every day, how tethered you felt, how unsure you were if you should have been following your mind or heart. how you woke up every day conflicted and went to bed riddled with guilt. how you wondered if you should have stayed or if you should have let go.

but you were strong enough to let go, and that should let you know that you are strong enough to do anything. you did not believe this before, always going along with the flow and shooting low out of fear that actually reaching for the things you want would do nothing but hurt you, and while it was a bit harsh to teach you the lesson in this way it was needed.

but… we also fear that we have made you too afraid to try at love again. there is only so much that we can say that is going to ease your pain and uncertainty, but know that every risk worth taking is a risk that is worth getting hurt for.

know that you will never know the true outcome of a connection and you cannot spend the rest of your life running away from potential happiness out of fear of potential heartache.

be brave in the way we know that only you can be.”

#tarot #pac #pick a card #pick a group #pick an image #pick a pile #pick a picture #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #channelled message #**

[graysmiles-world]

Steddie Fake Dating Part 2

Part One, Part Three

Robin was whistling at work. She hasn’t stopped all day.

“What’s got you so chipper?” Steve grumbled, wiping down the counter. “Good night with your beau?” Robin was refilling the spoons and looked over to glare at him. 

“No,” she snapped. “But he is going to be visiting me today at work.” 

Steve raised a brow, “No shit. Really?”

“Yes, really,” she bit back. “So I’m excited about it, so what?”

“Nothing,” Steve shrugged, tossing the dirty rag underneath the counter to the bucket filled with other filthy rags. “Just nice to see you not so rude.” 

Robin huffed out what was close to a laugh, and Steve hid his little grin in the collar of his sailor’s shirt. “What time is he coming by?” 

“Around 2, I think. We’re supposed to go out for food after I get off.” 

Steve looked at the clock, which ticked slowly to the 11. The day was unusually cool for late June, and the mall was emptier than average. “How long have you been together?” he asked.

Robin turned to him with a furrowed brow, “Why do you care?” 

Steve shrugged, “I’m bored - you’re bored. Gives us something to discuss.” 

“Hm, okay,” Robin shrugged. “He’s a bit older than me, but we’ve been together since I was a sophomore.” 

Steve whistled, “Two years then, huh?” Robin nodded. “You think he’s the one?”

Robin bit the inside of her cheek before looking at Steve. “I don’t know. He’s the one for right now, you know?” Steve smiled at her. A few months ago, discussing any relationship would make him almost crumble on the spot, wrapped up in the explosion between him and Nancy Wheeler.

Now, however, he was thinking of Eddie. 

“What about you, Casanova?” Robin asked, knocking her foot against his. “You got anybody?”

Steve scratched his head, “Yeah. I do.” 

“And…” Robin started, “Do you think she’s the one?”

Steve leaned forward on the counter, trying not to melt like an ice cream cone in the summer sun at the thought of him and Eddie - forever. “I hope so.”

Robin looked at him in a way she’d never had before, her expression not one of disgust, annoyance, or any other emotion connected to it. Before he could ask about it, a gaggle of children with their parents entered the store - and they were too busy to talk much for the rest of the shift.

The closer it ticked to 2, the more Robin’s fingers tapped against the counter. Steve was leaning against the back wall, watching her watch the clock. “You know staring at it doesn’t make it go by faster, right?”

He could see Robin’s eye roll, even though she wasn’t facing him. “I know, but there isn’t anything else to do while I wait.” 

Steve was about to retort when his words died on his lips. Because out the mall, dressed in his usual get-up of dark clothing and silver, was Eddie Munson. He hadn’t turned to face Ship’s Ahoy! Yet Steve knew the nautical-themed storefront wouldn’t escape his notice for much longer.

He didn’t know what to do. Steve never expected Eddie to come to the mall, much less during Steve’s work hours. Eddie knew he had a job, but not what the job exactly was. And now he was here and about to find out. He was about to endure serious teasing about his uniform and in front of Robin, too. 

Steve darted a glance over to Robin, standing tall, staring out the doors. She must have just seen her boyfriend. 

Eddie turned to the storefront, something in his face lighting up at the sight. Steve felt that same warm feeling build up in his chest. Eddie walked towards the door, entering the storefront with a swagger Steve loved. 

Before Steve could do anything, not that he could do anything much out in public with his boyfriend, Robin rushed around the side and launched herself at Eddie. He caught her effortlessly, swinging her around like it was a movie and not a 2 p.m. on a Saturday in June. Steve just stood there. 

Eddie hadn’t seen him. He’d seen her, Robin. Robin, who was waiting for her boyfriend of two years. The boyfriend who was supposed to show up at 2 p.m. to pick her up. Eddie was that boyfriend. 

That warmth turned to ice and sank heavy in his stomach. It felt like he’d just gobbled down three banana splits. Like he was about to puke all over the display before him. Eddie still wasn’t looking at him. He was talking to Robin. Their lips moved, but no sound came out.

Robin said something, looking back at Steve with a smile that he couldn’t return. Eddie followed her eyesight, and finally, he saw Steve. 

They stared at each other until the ice in his torso shattered, and Steve could move.  He hurried into the back with as much dignity as he could. Steve collapsed through the bathroom, locking the door behind him with shaking fingers. 

He slid down on the wall, back pressed against stone, and feet out in front of him. Something was spilling down his cheeks, tasting of salt. Steve felt it and found shed tears shining on his fingers. 

There was no lump in his throat or squeeze behind his eyes to tell him he was crying. It was like a tap just turned on, and he was a victim of the water that flowed down his face. He couldn’t breathe, mind still reeling over what he’d seen.

Eddie was Robin’s boyfriend of two years. He was the one she thought might be the one, the person she probably loved, and she told him, and he told her back. Steve wasn’t that. 

He was crumbling down, breaking at the seams. He was a china plate shattered on the floor. There was no chance of putting him back together again. 

A knock pounded against the door, Robin’s voice echoing through the tiny room. “Steve, I have to go. Are you okay?” 

Steve swallowed, trying to sound like he wasn’t sobbing in the bathroom over her boyfriend. “Yeah, I just felt sick for a second. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Robin paused. “Okay. I’m going to go. I’ll see you later.”

Steve didn’t know if she had waited for a response or not before she left, but there was only silence afterward. He sat in there for a minute, two, ten. He waited for his heart to pierce itself together, but it didn’t. Eventually, he got up. He wiped his cheeks of tears and ran damp paper towels under his eyes. 

Steve went back to work. He gave out ice cream, cleaned the tables, and closed up shop at the end of the day. He locked the door behind him, leaving his heart on that bathroom floor.

Steve didn’t see Eddie that night, the day after, or the day after. The phone rang twice, but both times, Steve picked up. It was someone asking if his parents were home. 

At night, he imagined what he’d say to Eddie whenever he saw him next, how he’ll be cool and calm and explain that they’re done. Or maybe Eddie already knows they’re done, so he hasn’t been around. Maybe he’s glad Steve found out this way and was trying to find a way to tell him and break up with him.

Steve rolled over so his face was pressed into his pillows. He wet the cover with his tears and only slept a few hours, waking up throughout the night with a thundering in his chest, swearing that he heard Eddie’s loud van rumbling down the street. 

But there was never anyone there.

Steve stumbled into Scoops Ahoy! late the next day, he ignored Robin’s snide remarks as he punched in. He couldn’t talk to or even look at her without the urge to tell her everything burst out in word vomit over the tiled floors. And then where would that leave him?

Her comments slowly faded throughout the day, both working in silence, much like the day before. She didn’t ask him any questions, and he hoped she could sense how grateful he was for it. Steve sat in the back on his break, staring at the wall across from the table. He didn’t know what to think about. Nothing good enough in his life at the moment to distract him from the monotony of work.

He was only about three minutes into his break when he heard a familiar voice. 

“ Is he here?” Dustin asked Robin, who Steve was sure was staring at him with some awkward judgment. Steve stood up from the table, going to the swinging door with the closest thing he’s had to happiness in the last few days.

“Henderson!” he crowed at the sight of that little twerp. The brightness in Dustin’s expression smoothed over some of the cracks in his heart, and he didn’t feel like immediately falling into tears. 

“You got the job!” Dustin yelled, excited over something that Steve personally hated, but Steve couldn’t help but return the enthusiasm.

“I got the job!” They did a cool little handshake that Dustin made for them before leaving for camp, ending with Steve acting like all his guts were spilling out onto the floor.

After Dustin’s introduction to Robin and Scoops Ahoy!, he dragged Steve away to an empty booth and ordered a sailboat full of ice cream topped with whipped cream and hot fudge. Steve was still technically on his break, so he made no complaints. This was a way better way of spending his break than staring silently at the wall. He and Dustin spoke of ordinary things for a bit, Phoebe Cates, his apparent new summer camp girlfriend, all of the other shitheads ditching him, and something else he would only whisper. 

Dustin leaned down so he was closer to the table, his voice dropping considerably. He whispered something to the table, which Steve could not hear with all the chatter around them. Orange sherbert and chocolate, really, lady?

“Huh?”

Dustin groaned and whispered it again, but same as before, Steve couldn’t hear a thing. 

“Just speak louder-”

“I intercepted a secret Russian communication!” Dustin burst out, gaining the attention of everyone in the storefront, including Robin, who was staring at them with furrowed brows. 

“Jeez, shhh. Uh, that’s what I thought you said,” Steve said, leaning back so he was flush with the sticky cushions of the booth. “What does that mean?”

“It means, Steve,” Dustin leaned forward so Steve could feel the heat of his breath against his arm. “We could be heroes. True American heroes.”

Steve stared at him with a raised brow, wondering if the heat had gone to his brain. Dustin seemed to sense his apprehension and continued, “Just think, you could have all the ladies you want and more.”

“More?” Steve asked, taking a look at Robin. She was leaning over, scooping a cup of strawberry. He thought of Eddie, of his long hair and infectious chuckle. His excellent mood diminished a bit. Steve turned back to Dustin, who stared at him and cleared his throat. “I like more. What’s the catch?” There always was. Steve’s mind flashed to Eddie again. He knocked the image out of his head with a shake to the head, ignoring Dustin’s intriguing gaze. 

“No catch, I just need your help.”

“With what?” Steve asked. 

Dustin grinned at him, licking the plastic spoon clean of ice cream. “Translation.”

Next Part ->

#fanfiction #steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie angst #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst #ao3 #fake dating au #robin buckley #dustin henderson

[luvelylili]

LILI’S BACK TO SCHOOL MANIFESTING GUIDE

so it’s that time of the year again - back to school. same old classes, teachers, friends, grades, routines, assignments… the same old story. except, not this year!!! this year you have the law, and (even if you already knew about the law last year) this year you’re going to apply it and have the best year of your life, at school and in every other aspect of your life! read that again, the time is now and you’re going to make the best of it! this post is a long one, but i hope you’ll stay until the end <3

———————————————————————

so, where do i start?

step 1 - take a moment to step back and reflect on the last year. how did you feel? how far did you get? what did you achieve? what would change? grab a pen and paper or just the notes app on your phone and write everything down. consider your life as a whole, apart from academic aspects and address anything that is important to you. here are some topics to prompt your journaling:

- friends, family, other relationships

- hobbies

- aspirations, your future

- your manifestations, relationship with the law and the beliefs you have (positive or limiting)

you’ll feel better laying all your thoughts and ideas out in front of you. doing this feels like sorting out all the messy pieces in your mind and watching them fall into place in front of you like a perfect puzzle! now you know exactly what you’ve been through and how you felt, and are ready to move on to the next step!

step 2 - now that we’ve dealt with the past, it’s time to focus on the exciting part - the future!! your future is a blank slate, everything that you’ve endured in the past no longer applies and you are now free to do whatever you want and become whoever you want! ask yourself what are your goals? what do you want to bring into your life this year? once again, don’t just focus on school, apply this to every aspect of your life and compile a list with all your desires. don’t hold back - your list can be as long or as short as you want, as detailed or vague as you want, it’s all up to you so just do whatever feels right.

step 3 - now, i want you to take your desires and make a subheading for each. here you’re going to create a list of affirmations specific to each desire. once again it can be as long and detailed, or short and vague as you want - you make the rules. however, i’d recommend for your affirmations to be something short and to the point, phrased in a way that feels natural for you since they will become a part of your everyday life and, generally, the more comfortable they feel for you, the better!

step 4 - apply the law! now that you’ve acknowledged your past and let go of the old story by deciding on your desires, it’s time to put in the work. and guess what? you don’t have to lift a finger! the law works for you. once you decide what you want and are affirming for it, all that’s left for you to do is persist no matter what. that’s it. go straight to the end and dwell in your 4d, regardless of what you see in front of you. flip negative thoughts, be stubborn and don’t let anything get in between you and your desires. that’s how you get what you want.

fun things to manifest - inspo!

- good grades

- new friends/revise friendships

- your crush/sp

- winning a competition

- features/your appearance

- a new device (phone, laptop, airpods…)

- class getting cancelled

- entering the void

- compliments

- a pet!!

- clothes

- going to a concert, party, event

daily routine - loa ver.

، ♡ ⠇start affirming first thing in the morning! right when you wake up and before going to bed are the times during which your subconscious mind is the most active, and, therefore, the most receptive to what you feed it. so feed it your desires. get into the habit of making your first and last thoughts of each day ones which align with you having your desires.

، ♡ ⠇start your normal routine. make your bed, do your skin care, have breakfast, get dressed but with a twist! instead of just mindlessly going through the motions and letting your mind wander, loop your affirmations either out loud or in your head. don’t be too strict, rampage and remind yourself of already having your desires - do whatever feels right! you can also use a vaunt if you find it helpful!

، ♡ ⠇during the day, whenever you think of your desires, simply affirm as if you already have them. it’s that simple. when you’re bored in class counting down the minutes for the end of the day, or sitting on train on your way to school use this time to affirm to yourself. the simple act of becoming aware of your thoughts, affirming and redirecting your mind towards getting your desires is a great way to pass the time and will only do you good!!

، ♡ ⠇then at night, as mentioned above, simply incorporate a night version of the morning routine into your nightly habits. affirm in the shower, as you’re getting ready to sleep, while you brush your teeth - whenever feels right! you can also affirm as you fall asleep (much like SATS and the lullaby method) for the same reason as in the morning, your subconscious mind will be more active and receptive to your affirmations.

additional things to add to your daily routine

this is completely optional. this is simply for people who feel like they aren’t doing enough when applying the law. i know telling you to stop stressing when you have that unrelenting anxious feeling that you need to be doing something more in order to manifest won’t do you any good so here are some things you can do instead of letting yourself spiral:

- meditate! guided or just with frequencies, either in the morning, night or during the day - it’s up to you!!

- journal

- go on a hot girl walk! clear your mind, affirm, listen to some nice music - you’ll feel much better!!

- listen to your favourite songs and have a dance party

- read a book

- listen to a podcast

- get off tumblr

lili’s advice

you have to understand that this isn’t just a back to school guide, a challenge in which you follow these steps for the first few days and then revert back to your old ways. no. this is a life guide, these are steps that you have to embody, this needs to become your regular routine. you need to be disciplined, consistent and persist. you must stick to the new assumptions you create, as this is the only way you’ll flip the script and finally get the life you want. i’m saying this like it’s easy (and it will be if you assume it to be) but i know damn well what it is like to struggle with the law. this guide is for me too! everything i wrote here applies to me too, and i need to take my own damn advice. but that’s exactly what i plan to do. i’m determined to follow these steps, apply the law and make this year my bitch and get the things i want, and i hope you are too!

also, be kind to yourselves. you’re allowed to have off days, you’re allowed to be demotivated and you’re allowed to feel negative emotions. you’re human after all and it would be unhealthy if you didn’t have your down moments. however, you’re not allowed to give up on yourself. you’re not allowed to quit and throw away your power. none of that. you’re getting your shit. that’s a given. if you affirm, persist and don’t take no for an answer, you will get what you want. you already have it all in the 4d, and it’s all on its way to you in the 3d right now. that’s the law. you don’t have to affirm 24/7, you can if you want to but don’t stress yourself out. you make your own rules! if you decide that all it takes is you affirming once for your desires and that’s enough, then that will be the case! don’t overcomplicate the law - as long as you don’t go against your affirmations by doubting yourself and entertaining intrusive thoughts, you’re doing everything right! trust yourself, and do it for you!! that’s the most important part - you’re the operant power, this is your reality and you will get what you want. all it takes is some discipline and persistence! i believe in you, and i’m so proud of you for being here reading this right now, you’re already taking the first step, now go manifest your dream life and then make sure to come back to tell me all about it!! <3

———————————————————————

this post was inspired by the blogs and posts of @theandreiaeffect , @multiversebaddie and @itsravenbitch !! thank you for being so wonderful and helping everyone in the loa community - love you lots! <3

#lili’s back to school guide #affirming #loassumption #manifesting #self concept #law of assumption #law of the universe #new story #best self #3dolc x roe #48hc #highest self #dream life #vaunts & affirmations #affirmations #vaunt #shifting realities #aesthetic #neville goddard #god state #it is done #it girl #111 #mindset #loatwt #loa guide

[sorchathered]

Sacred New Beginnings- Chapter 7

A/N- we have a new header photo! Since the story has progressed into mainly Jake and Stormy’s relationship it seemed like it was time. This one is a little short and super angsty, don’t kill me!

Y’all send me some feedback after this chapter. I want to know what you’d like to see happen next!

Pairing- Jake Seresin x reader (OC Stormy)

Song inspo- “never let me go”- Florence and the Machine, “ if you need to, keep time on me”- Fleet Foxes

Summary-Stormy is on her first deployment with her new squad, missing their 6 month anniversary and gearing up for a hell of a mission.

Warnings- language, violence, injuries (it’s an angsty one guys)

The lumpy twin bed on the aircraft carrier didn’t do much in the way of comfort, but damnit you’d been having the best dream. You and Jake at some seaside restaurant, slow dancing and toasting to your anniversary. It had felt so real, when you’d startled awake by your alarm you could almost feel his warm embrace, tears welling up in your eyes as you came back to reality. You were in the middle of the Atlantic, nowhere near San Diego, and today you and Jake had been together 6 months.

You’d gotten your deployment papers and shipped out almost a month ago, infrequent emails and the occasional phone call all you had to hold on to, along with a handful of letters and photos Jake had printed for you to decorate your bunk to spruce up the empty space you’d call home for the next 2 months. Long distance had been hard, but being deployed without him was a whole other level of pain. For years you’d worked together as pilot and WSO, enduring the shitty conditions and battling the homesickness as a team, doing this alone with a brand new team was a choice you’d make all over again but the loneliness stung no matter how you sliced it. Startled by a sharp knock to the cabin door you threw the covers back and called out for them to wait. It was Viper, your front seater who had become a damn good friend the past few months of integrating with your new team. He and his husband had welcomed you with open arms, game nights at their home and family dinners on Sundays were infamous in your squad, you truly did love this group of misfits despite missing the Daggers something fierce.

Flinging the door open to his smiling face you felt a little lighter, “Come on kid, let’s get some breakfast in you, we’ve got a hell of a day ahead of us! You can dream about your golden boy later!” He let out a cackle as your cheeks tinged in embarrassment and patted you on the head, ushering you both towards the mess hall in preparation for another long and tedious day of maneuvers.

—————————————————————-

On the opposite coast Jake is feeling much of the same, he had complete faith the two of you could weather any storm but the longing he felt without you took his breath away sometimes. He’d never loved anyone like this before, and he’d certainly never been the one waiting for his loved one to come back from deployment. How did spouses do this every day? Just sending the ones they love off to far away places for months at a time and praying to whatever deity existed that they’d come home safely, it was a selfless burden he’d never take for granted again. He checked his email as he inhaled his breakfast, seeing an email and photo attachment from you and he nearly tripped over himself to open the message. There you were, half unzipped flight suit with your cleavage on display, blowing a kiss into the camera just for him. But it was the message itself that sent him over the edge, you explaining in graphic detail all the ways you wanted him to take you apart when you were re-united, how much you loved him and couldn’t wait to be back in his arms. He was the luckiest bastard on earth, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. He held his phone up, took a selfie of his shirtless form and messy bed head, sending you kisses from across the world and typing out a quick reply. “Just a little longer Stormy, it’s you and me baby we can do anything, you’re my moon and stars baby girl I love you. Kick ass today, and thank you for the best 6 months of my life. Love, Jake.”

——————————————————————

The day which started relatively normal, went to shit almost instantly. The mission had to be moved up, enemies were in the area; pirates hired by a foreign nation to carry out a terrorist attack against the very vessel you were sailing on. Your COC wanted a team in the air within the hour to take them down and it left everyone scrambling to throw together a plan and get to their aircrafts. You’d had a bad feeling gnawing at you from the moment they described the plan of attack; two much could go wrong and there wasn’t enough information about the kind of weaponry the enemy had trained on them. Viper gave you a pointed look to keep it to yourself, he didn’t feel good about it either but time wasn’t on anyone’s side today, better to keep your head down and do whatever was needed to survive.

It was a shitstorm, between the enemy aircraft on everyone’s backs their warship seemed to have a never ending supply of missiles, raining down explosives from every direction. It was a dogfight no one had expected and with what was truly a miracle you all made it out alive, barreling across the sky back to the carrier. As you all made your descent warning lights began to appear on your radar, something was coming in hot and it was headed for the ship. You were calling out coordinates while everyone rallied into a formation to see if they could take it out, but it was too late; it had been a diversion. Heat seeking missles were drawing in from another round of jets, and it was either take out the jets or risk everyone on the carrier. Just as Viper began to howl in victory over his first air to air kill, an explosion landed on your left side, taking out the wing and sending you both plummeting. You could barely hear yourself screaming to eject, heartbeat roaring in your ears, your last thought before being flung from your fa/18 was of Jake.

—————————————————————-

It had been a boring day filled with lectures and Jake couldn’t be more happy to get the hell out of the school house, a beer and sports highlights were calling his name. He’d made it halfway through the lot before he heard someone calling his name, more like screaming it as they hurdled towards him through the parking lot. It was Cyclone’s assistant, gasping for air as she told him he was needed immediately in the admiral’s office, it was an emergency. He felt his heart sink, the only reason your godfather would need him for an emergency was you, and he took off towards the building as fast as his body would carry him. Flinging the office door open was unprofessional but he couldn’t be bothered to give a shit, he knew something was wrong and when he crossed the threshold Beau Simpson’s normally callous demeanor was gone, tears in his eyes as he looked up at Jake.

“What?!” He gasped, “Don’t sugar coat it Sir, just tell me, where is she?” Jake was shaking uncontrollably now, if you were gone it would be the end of him.

“She’s alive, but her injuries are severe. She’s being transported to Walter Reed as we speak, and you and I are heading there as soon as possible. She’s been placed in a medically induced coma.”

Jake’s knees hit the floor, and the tears began.

Jake Seresin Masterlist

Tagging- @attapullman @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @pinkdaisies9285 @djs8891 @jessicab1991 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @nouis-bum @roosterforme @jostan456 @kmc1989 @dempy @its-the-pilot @86laura11 @mrsevans90 @shanimallina87 @floydsglasses @mygyn @dizzybee03

#top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman smut #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin smut #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick fanfiction #sacred new beginnings #snb #Jake and Stormy

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 60

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

This week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake lights up the night

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

STOP! BEFORE YOU READ:

If you can stomach excessive violence, please remember that this chapter technically falls chronologically after the Sore Spot one-shot. However, it is not required reading and you will not miss out if you could not read it for whatever reason.

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: Hospital, egregious injury, coma, intubation, needles, IV, coma, drugs, bleeding, broke bones, medical descriptions, medical tests, guns, gunshots, ect

“You’re late.”

“Sir.”

“47 minutes this time.”

Heavy sigh.

“27 the last and an hour and a half prior to that. You have two assigned patients total, one of which is no longer in critical condition and yet, here you are, late for the last round of your shift.”

“If you think-!”

“133 Pitt St, Apartment 3B, New York, NY 10002.”

Sharp inhale.

“Contain your personal life. You shouldn’t have moved in with your boyfriend so fast. Of course, he’s cheating on you. If your sloppy time management skills are any indication, you were never meant to be a suitable partner.”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!!! I’M THROWING YOU OUT! I DON’T CARE THAT-!”

“Again!?”

“NO! NO MORE! I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY! I REFUSE TO-!”

“Please, ma’am! I’m begging you! I know! I know what he’s like and he’s a million percent at fault, but if you could-!”

“He just said my home address.”

“Eugh boy…”

“He’s cruel. He’s mean! He never stops! He’s-”

“Ma’am…”

“No! Don’t you ma’am me again! Do you know how many nurses have refused to serve this room! You are down to less than a handful and mark that down as one less because there’s no way in hell I’m coming back here. I’m filing a fucking police report. I’ve had enough of this shit. He threatens us. He lies. He antagonizes. He hovers! He’s a stalker! He’s a bastard! He should have been kicked out the moment he pulled that stunt in intake! I bet he was the one who did this to-!”

Slam.

“H-He-!”

“Donatello!”

Slam.

“Get out of my way, Leonardo.”

“Do you want to be cut off!? That’s what you’re fucking doing! We’ve been busting our fucking butts to keep you in here, but that’s enough!! Don’t you get it?! Do you want to be here when Y/N wakes up or do you want to be miserable and alone!?”

Snivel.

“She… insinuated… that I…”

“I know.”

Rustle.

“I know.”

“I didn’t…”

“I know…”

Sigh.

“I’m taking charge.”

Sharp inhale.

“That’s the only way this is going to work. You threatened her, idiot. What the fuck did you think was going to happen?”

Hmph.

“Ma’am…”

“You think I was gonna be moved by that?”

“Look, I get it. This is… There isn’t a way to explain this. All I can promise you is that if you can… find it in your heart to let this incident slide, there won’t be another.”

…

“I’m taking full blame, full responsibility. If he acts out of turn again, he’s banned. I’ll make sure of it.”

…

“Please.”

Heavy sigh.

Clink.

“You saved… my sister two years ago from a monster… er-“

“Monster. I’m not sure it was a mutant.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s… I’m only doing this because of that. Not for him. Fuck him. Hey! Yeah, I’m talking to you. Fuck you.”

…

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

Squeak.

Squeak.

Squeak.

-

“And one cup of absolutely burnt coffee for the-!”

…

“I knew it!!!”

Clatter.

“Donatello!”

“Don’t.”

“I knew you were hiding something, but this-!”

“Get back.”

“What did you inject yourself with!?”

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it does! You think you can-!?”

“Don’t you dare touch me.”

“I didn’t mean-!”

“You know why, now leave it.”

Bang.

“I heard yelling! What’s going on? Donatello!”

“It’s alright, Lee.”

“Don’t you pull that shit! What happened!?”

“It’s fine.”

“Knock it off! No, it’s not! You’re going to let him talk to you like that?! What was that?! I was gone for five seconds!”

“Leo.”

“Don’t ‘Leo’ me, Mikey! Everything that happens is on me. Don’t you get that? You need to tell me what just happened!”

…

“Well!?”

“I got too friendly, Leo. Nothing else. I swear it.”

…

 “Damnit…”

-

“It’s been 2 weeks.”

…

“Donatello.”

…

“Say something.”

“I keep time. Down to the second.”

“Then you’ll know that you haven’t slept. Not once.”

…

“Donatello.”

“I fatigue of hearing my name come from your mouths.”

Heavy sigh.

Creak.

Squeak.

Wane.

“I… I know what this is like.”

…

“I know you know why I know.”

…

“It’s not going to get easier.”

…

“I know you don’t want to hear this.”

“You presume too much.”

“Donatello!”

“What? Why do you insist on pleading your case? Why do any of you? You think of yourselves so highly. You are wretches. You are sheep parading yourselves as saviors. You flock if only because you are too feeble to attempt anything alone! You think I need you? I never have! I never will! You have hitched yourselves to a technicality at best! That I let you live and occupy the same vicinity as Y/N is happenstance at best! Yet you press! You always press. Always. You never stop! You never have!!! You will plague me for my lifetime and I will never be rid of you so, please, pray tell, Raphael, what wisdom on this dimension or any other could you possibly think to disturb me with this time!?!”

…

…

…

…

“Ya done?”

“I should have-!”

Scrape.

Crash.

…

“You need to eat and drink. Actual food. Actual water. Y/N will need you when they wake up. All I was gonna say. I’m taking my turn outside. Try considering that we might care about something other than you once in a while.”

Step.

Step.

Step.

Click

-

Fuzz.

Someone left an ancient video set on.

It was plugged in for the sake of it.

Or it was being checked.

To see if it was still operational.

Something was beeping.

Not overly loud, but enough that it made a thrum in the room.

It smelled clinical.

Dry, but with a must of synthetic polish, it spoke of industrially cleaned linens and hospital corridors.

There was an actual hum.

The kind that came from fluorescents when they painted everyone a sickly hue.

Something was in your mouth.

A twitch found a tube in your nose.

You were cold.

Every breath came with an ache and numbness.

It all channeled down your throat. 

You were layered up with blankets.

Three parts of you were free as far as you could tell.

Your left arm.

Stiff, folded, and holding emphasis.

Your head.

Lying on a papery substance concealing more than one pillow.

Your right hand.

Only emerged enough for something stuck to the back of it and large digits cupped between your loose fingers.

Two digits.

Two long, thick fingers.

You squeezed with as much force as you could manage.

You heard a little grunt.

You shifted to dig your nails.

“Woah there.”

Not Donnie.

That wasn’t Donnie.

It wasn’t Donnie.

You made a weary noise and tossed lightly against your pillow in dismay.

The thing in your mouth shifted.

You choked.

“Shh. You’re okay. Breathing tube. I know, I know. I also know I’m not the one you want, but I can get him. Can you hang tight for me, kay?”

The fingers returned the hold.

Eyes.

You wanted your vision.

You cracked a lid and winced it back shut at the light.

“You’re in the hospital. I’ve got you.” Another hand came to touch your leg in a neutral, but reassuring way. “You with me?”

Knowing there was too much white, you opened your eyes slower this time and glimpsed Leo leaning over you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You croaked.

“That’s all the confirmation I need.” He gave your hand a final squeeze before walking to the end of your bed. “Any more false starts and he’d lose it. The roving eye thing has been a nightmare.” 

Gaze adjusting by the second, you watched him slice open a portal and Donnie clamber through with a rush of sound. “You had seven more minutes before you were meant toI-! Does that mean-!?”

Leo stepped out of the way and held out an arm. 

Donnie rounded his head and was at your side before you could blink.

Function was difficult.

He cradled your hand close and you saw the wire attached to it.

Tracing it drearily, you found several bags sitting above you dripping liquid directly into your veins.

Coming back down, Donnie had tears in his eyes and a watercolor smile on his lips. “Y/N.”

You creaked, rusty on your intubation.

“Yes! We’ll get that right out if possible! Of course!” He brought his beak down and kissed the tips of your fingers. “Procedure says you should first explain whereabouts as a patient may be confused.” Donnie gave a sharp nod. “Y/N. There has been a travesty. We were in the Hidden City when we were ambushed. We-I-No-We were drugged… and you… you were…” Tears threatened to fall and he choked with a swollen throat.

You squinted at him.

None of that made sense.

You didn’t remember anything like that.

You remembered.

You remembered.

You remembered a beach.

You remembered a love potion.

You remembered rolling in the sheets with your mate.

You remembered.

You made a fearful noise and pulled at your body.

None of it came as it should.

Your arm wasn’t just folded, it was taped down to your chest.

In fact, most of your body was constricted.

The pull clanged along muscle groups and you felt a pulse trained inwards on your abdomen.

Shooting sparks of pain straight into your gut, you gave a soft pained cry and tried to kick.

Only one leg responded.

The other was lead and weighed down.

You were choking.

“Y/N, w-wait! P-please!” Donnie refused to touch any more of you.

“Donatello.” Leo appeared just behind him.

“Don’t. It won’t. Not now.” Donnie went to snap at the blue turtle.

Leo stared back, stoic. 

“Don’t…” Donnie managed, gaze falling.

“Y/N.” Leo took to the other side of the bed and reached in to adjust a strap of bandage on your shoulder. “Listen. You’re at the Mount Sinai on Madison. You were in emergency, then the ICU, then you got assigned a room. Saying you were banged up is an understatement. You almost died. You might have, if we hadn’t…”

Relegating to pupil movement, you first stared at Leo, then checked with Donnie.

Your boyfriend gave a sharp nod where he’d taken Leo’s seat at your side and your hand.

You rasped.

“They had to medically induce a coma so we could figure out what substance you were injected with. You were considered an overdose patient until then. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. cracked it and passed the info along so they could treat you. Then you… didn’t wake up. They considered it a regular coma after that. You were stabbed in your shoulder, miracle it missed any of the three arteries there. You’ll have a hell of a time with physical therapy for the muscle though. Your left femur is broken, but that… We’ll get into that later. You were cut along the ribs and stabbed in the right upper torso, into the liver. You were in surgery for hours. Internal bleeding… concussion… broken bones, you name it.”

You made a flighty grunt.

Donnie squeezed you.

You sent him a weak flick of your eye.

Leo sighed softly. “Button time?”

“I hit it a moment ago.” Donnie answered, not looking away from you.

Leo nodded and put his hands on his hips. “Ready, Y/N?”

Leo. 

Donnie. 

Together in the same room. 

It only occurred to you now that there was an issue with that. 

There was so much happening. 

All of it was wrong. 

You shifted your pupil between the two and translated what you hoped was a question.

“I’m assuming you’re wondering about this?” Leo pointed between him and Donnie. “Another explanation for later because you’re going to want to sleep after what’s about to happen… I sure as hell did.”

He walked to a corner and you wanted to know what he meant, but a nurse walked in. “Oh…! How are you feeling!?”

What followed was torturous. Over and over your sanity was questioned and examined as they checked your faculties. Tests were done in abundance and you were poked and prodded by what you assumed was every metal device known to man. A legion of doctors, nurses, and contracted medical personnel filed through to tell you similar and yet all new information about your wounds. Tubes were inserted, removed, and shifted around in what you could only imagine was a cruel cosmic game of hokey pokey. You picked up little details where you could under the barrage. There had been something about mysticism, both bad and good. You’d healed nicely. You had more healing to do.

It had been three total weeks since the attack.

You held onto that lost time with an iron claw until you were forced upright. Both for physical examination and because a wheelchair arrived for some test that couldn’t be done in this room, you saw Donnie keep a wounded strength up and Leo keep his distance. Both men had been similarly cycled, in and out of your vicinity, for the sake of decorum. You alternatively had none as you were carted around for more scans where doctors both talked to and around you. By the time you were uncomfortably back in bed and finally left alone, you could barely keep your eyes open.

“Sleep.” Donnie kissed your temple.

“Donnie…” You fought your lids.

You hadn’t gotten to talk to him at all. 

His name was probably the first thing you’d said to him. 

You wanted to say so much more. 

How could you be tired?

You’d been asleep for nearly a month.

Donnie hushed your mind and a glimpse of him was the last thing you saw.

-

You woke up sometime in the night to a nurse fiddling with your IV.

“I have to get used to seeing you.” She teased lightly, checking the cord and coming away with a syringe.

You grunted out a sound.

“Don’t mind me.” She told you before giving your good leg a pat and disappearing around the bed. “Just something to ease the pain.” 

You stared after her shape and caught a dull hue of Leo on the far side of the room.

Squinting, you found him watching after the nurse before he turned with a tired expression.

Following his gaze led to Donnie who was waiting with a patient expression.

“Hey.” You told him still groggy.

“Hi…” He pet your arm. “No need to get up.”

“No… I… I’m… can I…?” You stirred, trying to remember if sitting up was a chore.

“What do you need? Feel free to sign an approximate.” Donnie watched on with tepid affection.

In the corner of your eye you saw Leo turn his head in a way to give you privacy. You eyed him openly before returning to Donnie. Your first real look at him, you saw how the last few weeks had taken their toll. An odd midpoint in comparison to your last separation where he’d headed to the Hidden City alone, he looked a little on the mend. Eyes sallow, but skin perked with some vestige of hydration, he mostly looked exhausted.

“Water…” You decided, your throat dry and still cracked from the tube.

“You might have trouble swallowing, go slow.” He retrieved a pitcher and cup from a side table before filling it carefully to offer it with a straw.

Knowing he would hold it, you wrangled the lead with your lips and sucked in the life giving liquid.

He lowered it when you’d had enough.

“Sore…” You mumbled, leaning back and feeling the cool drink travel downward in your body.

Donnie nodded.

You took your time reaching up to cup his cheek with a spin of your wrist to coax him in. “Not clean. Sorry.”

“I’ve done my best.” Donnie whispered, coming in only enough to barely rest his forehead against the side of your head.

“Why-?” A cough caught you and each wheeze thudded through your wounds.

Donnie disappeared to monitor you closely.

Hand falling away, you winced against the aggravating loose, but tight nature of your esophagus.

You heaved a sigh as you caught your breath with the ragged little pinpricks that still held on.

Taking additional time to simply breathe, you eventually calmed enough to look out at Leo. “Explain this.”

Leo perked up in the moonlight seeping through a window and approached.

“Now?” Donnie asked without pressure.

You gave a single nod.

“Consider it a bedtime story.” Leo refused an actual smile, but there was a jovial edge to his tone as he came around to the opposite side of the bed. “We make it boring enough and we can put Y/N right to sleep.”

Donnie barely rolled his eyes.

“What got you here or this situation?” Leo asked with minor disdain, ignoring Donnie while also referencing him.

“Both… from the… beginning?”

Leo gave a knowing nod. “When I got the call, you were…”

Donnie bristled and had to hold himself.

“Bad.” Leo decided with a tight eye over your boyfriend. “It was bad.”

Donnie closed his eyes.

You reached for him.

He caught your hand and held it delicately to save the IV.

“We were together so we moved together.” Leo went on.

“Toget…?” You struggled on the syllables.

“Me, Mikey, and Raph.” Leo confirmed.

You bobbed slightly.

“Skipping over our entrance onto the scene, Mikey sort of…” Leo juggled his phrasing.

Donnie was up and away from you.

You stared after him and noticed he’d taken the time to set your hand down before fleeing.

“Mike’s got all sorts of mystic mojo.” Leo tried anew. “I knew you were going straight to surgery and Mikey sort of… snuck into prep.”

“Wha…?” Your lips parted dry and you wished Donnie would come back with the water.

“I wasn’t there, to be clear, I’m going off what Mike told me, but basically he zapped you with magic before the staff caught him.”

“I don’t…” You wanted to shake your head, but you settled for a failed swallow.

“In addition to flying, Mikey can kinda sort of teleport like me, but it’s different… he can…” Leo struggled.

“Leonardo trained with an artifact to hone tears through space. Michangelo can rip through space and time with his bare hands.” Donnie spoke, his back half turned to you. “To his detriment. You’ve seen his scarring.”

Leo seemed unperturbed by this knowledge. “He’s banned from it, but I can’t control him in an emergency or last resort sort of thing. It’s… a whole thing, but he can manage very short distances without it… without…”

“Leo…” You murmured, sensing there was something painful there.

Leo took your acknowledgement as a cue he could skip over details. “He took one look at a hospital map, teleported into the OR, dumped as much mystic healing into you as he could, teleported out when he was found, and then promptly passed out for an entire week.” 

You heard Donnie inhale to speak and both you and Leo waited for him to, but he didn’t.

Something was off here.

You felt like you hadn’t woken up.

Pangs said otherwise, but you still wanted to pinch yourself.

Leo and Donnie were being as civil as you’d ever seen them and only a few weeks didn’t seem like enough time for that.

Something else was happening, but you were struggling to keep up as it was.

“What… did he…?” You hoped that was enough.

Leo lightly touched a blanket crease on the edge of your bed. “He mostly reassembled bone fragments. From what I understand, flesh, with all its blood vessels and such is a harder patch, but he did get some in. Mostly that gash along your ribs. Overall, it’s more of a general spell. If it had been me-” Leo’s teeth caught the light.

“You…?”

“Medic training.” Leo held the first bitter edge you’d seen to him. “I’m a trained medic.” 

Donnie rotated further away.

Why were you losing him?

“Mikey took you from a femoral break to a fracture.” Leo kept a sharp gaze. “Your bone was shattered.”

“Oh…” You gazed down at your body.

“T-tricky with the casting.” Leo stepped up to point and shift the topic. “It’s called a spica. A groovy kind of asymmetrical bottoms, half shorts, half pants, which you have, but they should have cast it up your whole torso, only they couldn’t because of the… stab wounds…” He drifted, his acrid edge returning.

“What’s… going… on?” You got out, the many odd signs too much for you.

“I’m sure you don’t want some medical textbook info on the arteries… But I think I can simplify it-”

“Leo.” You pressed down on his name.

Donnie was nearly curled into the wall.

“Donnie.”

Your partner's head barely rotated at the sound of your voice.

“What… happened?” You wheezed. 

You’d asked Leo to start from the top. 

Instead, he’d skipped around. 

Now there was an ever changing air as if something enormous was being avoided. 

You had to know. “Tell me.” 

Leo tugged your sheet until it was smooth. “Intake.”

The word oppressive, you felt the other two suffer under it where it held no connotation to you. “What… about it?”

“You still don’t remember what happened during the attack?” Leo asked, edging closer to you with an odd timber.

You shook your head slowly.

“A… Hidden City police officer… abducted you both.” Leo began, a clear wary of Donnie even though he didn’t look. “The guy disobeyed the temporary pardon. We know next to nothing about his goal.”

Your hand flexed and you felt the bite of your IV needle.

“Without you, there’s no account of what happened. The perp left no evidence of planning or anything so we have to assume it was spontaneous, but… we don’t know. We won’t know. Donatello regained consciousness right before the guy tried to…”

Your gaze flew to Donnie where he’d wedged in a corner.

He didn’t know what happened?

No one did.

Was he guilty?

You wished you could go to him.

Leo gave a shaky exhale. “I can only say what I saw for sure.”

You were slow to trek back to Leo.

“Donatello called me and… asked-”

“Begged.” Donnie spoke venom. “Say it.”

Leo’s eyes flashed a warning that Donnie didn’t catch. “I guess he… beggedfor my help. I portaled over and saw you… you were… you…”

Soothe them. 

You wanted to hold Donnie. 

You wanted to pat Leo. 

If your arm closest to him wasn’t bandaged down you might have managed the latter. 

Leo seemed to notice your intention and gave a tired smile of his own.

This was the closest he’d been to you yet. 

His eyes looked like Donnie’s.

“I scooped you up with the others trailing behind and portaled us straight to triage.” Leo cut through the silence. “I had to leave you bleeding out on the nurse’s station because…”

“Y/N.” Donnie spoke around shattered glass.

“You won’t tell it.” Leo ground out just shy of a bark.

“I should…” Donnie tried to turn, but there was an odd glint to his eye.

“Donatello…” Leo had that warning to him again.

“I can talk about it!” Donnie’s voice held a rising bile. “I am not some child!”

“Donatello!” Leo took a few steps over.

“I lost control!” Donnie turned to plead his case with you.

Trapped in your bed, you felt strapped down.

You couldn’t help.

You were helpless.

“I didn’t see the yokai, you know.” Donnie crept forward slowly. “Your-our-your attacker.”

He looked a vision similar to a sleep paralysis demon.

Your heart clutched and it reflected in the ever constant beep of the heart monitor.

Leo neared the edge of the bed, his body readying.

Donnie saw nor heard neither. “I saw a knife. I saw you. I saw you speak your last words to me. Then I saw purple.”

Leo’s arms went up.

“They were trying…. They tried… They-!!!” In a single blink, Donnie’s eyes lit up a bright fuchsia. “They weren’t going to touch you.”

“Stop!” Leo’s eyes spun a blue similar to his portals.

Dancing lights filled the room.

For every flash of purple there was an equal blue swallowing it up.

It cast horrifying shadows across Donnie’s face. “I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop the bleeding. I couldn’t-!”

Leo caught Donnie’s shoulders in a swift move.

You flinched away as the dueling lights picked up to a blinding luminance.

There was a sharp choke.

You forced your lids up to see the glow gone and Leo’s leg lifted where he’d kneed Donnie straight through his plastron and into his stomach.

Donnie hunched with drool dripping from his mouth and had just caught himself from vomiting at the force.

Leo let go just as fast and held up innocent hands as he backed away. “Well? How’d that work out for you?!”

Donnie winced, clutching himself for a moment before he raised his own hand as a signal.

“What… was that…?” You looked at them both, feeling a ghost amongst them.

“Donatello unlocked his ninpo.” Leo turned to you looking haggard.

Now a moment away from tears, Donnie scrambled to his side of your bed on his knees. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t-!”

Your hand immediately went to his cheek and though your body raged and you were only allowed a few inches, you turned toward him as much as you could.

“Don’t do that…” He scolded and your action alone was enough to ground him minutely.

You shushed him with affection and pet down his jaw.

It took two strokes before he went a calculated limp against you.

“Has this…?” You swallowed hard and the cup appeared in front of you.

Hating how much maintenance you needed, you took a quick sip before shaking your head to force the swallow down.

“This has been… happening the whole time… since I got…?”

“Put in the hospital.” Leo nodded and staggered a few steps before he caught the bottom of your bed.

“What… power? Why… now?”

Leo rubbed an eye and mocked. “What power?” He clicked his tongue. “We… as in my family, believed it was only possible for clan members. You unlock your ninpo through acceptance. You have to have faith or trust or believe in the Hamato clan, in us, in family, and poof! It’s the only way you should be able to…” A form of irritation brought Leo upright. “Mikey and I unlocked ours to save Raph. It should be for family. Our family. That fierce protection. That-”

“He unlocked it…” You looked at Donnie.

He was curled into your palm with his eyes screwed shut, looking especially young.

“…saving me?”

Leo clicked his tongue.

Donnie gave a nod that was more of a nuzzle.

“It was wrong.” Leo spoke sharply.

A purple gun appeared in his face long enough for you to watch it cock before Leo realized and a tiny blue portal swallowed it up.

“Enough already! We just did that! You already flipped out so chill!” Leo growled, his eyes still entrenched in a glow.

“Don’t you tell me that saving them was a mistake in any way.” Donnie pulled from you to bare his fangs.

Several cycles of purple and blue cascaded a waterfall around Leo’s features. It painted him haunted before his face broke into true dismay. “I would never.”

The flickering stopped and you didn’t dare look at Donnie.

“How you activated it…” Leo shook his head trying to bury the raw emotion. “Your faith is misplaced. You get granted Hamato rights because you’re a Hamato. Because you believe in one another and how we’re stronger together… You are supposed to believe that you are a part of something larger and that they have you, everything about you. Every single bit. They will do anything for you! You don’t…! You don’t believe any of that!” His eyes rose with tears caught by the pale lights in the room. “That’s why you’re wrong. You tore into a power you shouldn’t have. That’s why you don’t have control. It will never be okay. It will never be yours! It shouldn’t.”

Donnie finally turned inward toward you and there were broken flickers of purple in his gaze like a match trying to light.

You had very little movement, but used what you could to grab his mask and tug.

He came limp and loose into your good shoulder and wilted there, shutting off the light.

Leo grunted about his weakness and did a small pace to recompose himself.

“Leo…” You murmured, petting Donnie with a heavy weight that he accepted.

“Yeah…?” He rounded the edge of the bed.

“That was… What Donnie made was…?”

“Weaponry.” Leo spat. “His power manifested in the same shit he started with. Destruction as always.”

There was a humming vibration of a phone.

Donnie flinched into you.

Leo pulled his device out.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered to Donnie, knowing you couldn’t go low enough to not reach Leo’s tympanum.

“The others…” Donnie rooted closer to you. “… they’ll come now.”

“Why?” You wished you could hold him.

“The flare of ninpo.” Leo answered, tacking something out. “They’re worried. I’ll tell ‘em it’s okay for now. You… I’ll give you this.”

Donnie couldn’t thank him, but he chuffed a sound of acknowledgement.

That seemed enough for Leo.

You felt a depth of what they’d been through without you. 

It was huge and weighty and both of them were overtaxed by it. 

All because of you. 

“Raph said you each had… specialties or something…” You murmured.

Leo stared dully at the blue light from his phone illuminating his face. “Donatello has built guns a million times over. Now he can assemble them without anything, but his mind. Makes sense. A stupid fucked up sense.”

You read the faintest emotion of him.

Fear.

“Leo-”

“I don’t agree, but Mikey has a different theory.” Leo pocketed his phone and his angle entrenched him in darkness. “He doesn’t see a problem with the unlocking because it was done to protect. He thinks the malfunction is tied to Donatello holding back. Something about him not being able to embrace the power because he’s forcing it away like everything else.”

Donnie exhaled revulsion.

“Agreed.” Leo puffed his own.

He did hold back.

You stroked down, tracing towards his concealed mating mark.

Did Donnie disagree because Mikey was on the right track?

He’d come a long way, but he still believed that the person he was with you wasn’t the authentic one.

He’d also said he could never live as himself.

That meant he’d never harness this power.

It loomed overhead, something even more dangerous than his enemies.

“It does… seem connected to your anger.”

You felt both men look at you, but you only watched Donnie.

“From… the little I’ve seen…” You tried to sound sheepish.

Donnie leaned in to rest his beak against your cheek. “You’re correct.”

Leo broke away and walked toward the window.

“And you two have just been…?” You glanced between them. “Together… this whole time?”

The palpable disdain swept through the room.

For a long moment neither spoke.

Donnie seemed the more sturdy of the two for now, sighed to retreat lightly, and adjusted your covers. “Not at first.”

Leo scrubbed his face.

“The initial chain of events went as such: I was…” The moment weighed on Donnie and took his voice.

“Not again…” Leo turned, looking twice as exhausted.

“I can do it.” Donnie pressed, harsh. “Look away.”

Leo bristled with obvious concern.

All you could think was how strange it was.

In such a short amount of time they’d seemingly come so far.

The Leo you knew would have taken every opportunity to barb Donnie.

Your Donnie would never allow the amount of supposed weakness he was currently displaying.

“I can.” Donnie tried again, his voice more even.

Leo said nothing and turned to tuck his head against the wall.

Donnie was slow in taking your face.

A familiar cascade of affection, it coaxed a smile from you and he nosed you lightly before drinking you into a kiss.

“My breath…” You murmured against the chaste press.

“Brushed earlier once the tube was removed and you were up to it.” Donnie caught your lips again and you realized the light brushes were to keep any errant smacks at bay.

“I’ve slept…” You teased him with the lightest nosing though the reach with your neck disturbed the muscles in your shoulder.

“You will learn to lie still.” He spoke with light heat and stole what was an obvious final kiss with a heavier press.

You relented into the pillow and failed to catch a soft sigh.

“That day… After disposing of that miscreant, I was beside myself. You needed more immediate attention then I could possibly… I found your phone. I called… When Leo appeared… I… I passed you off. My inadequacies were…”

“Too much…” You found his hand near yours and squeezed it.

He nodded and nuzzled close. “I let him take you, not more than a step behind, but Michelangelo…”

You tilted your head the slightest amount.

“You were deemed an obvious emergency and taken immediately. That I stood for, but Michelangelo he only…” Donnie paused and took a deep settling breath. “He had been nearby, suddenly saying he could help. Then he disappeared. I… It was an unknown variable. Him alone with you. With his mysticism… I… He hurt you before…”

You studied his eyes closely.

He leaned in to give you a better view, illustrating his gaze was free from purple, before nudging you with his beak. “I was irate to say the least. The staff would not let me warn them. Everyone kept telling me to calm down and then…” He caught himself and with several false starts to give a heady exhale. “Raphael subdued me after I manifested an entire arsenal and nearly leveled the waiting room.”

Leo shook his head against the wall, but you read it less as a disagreement and more of distress at the memory.

“His projections aren’t sturdy enough to dispel mine however. He temporarily knocked me out as the drug was still in my system.” Donnie continued. “When I woke, moments later, I was propped in the waiting room, informed Michelangelo had been returned to the sewer, Raphael was having a few superficial bullet wounds treated, and Leonardo was sat beside me.”

Leo flittered with a faint movement that you found to be his fist nervously tapping near his hip.

“For a while…” Donnie wrangled himself in and pulled away minutely to check your IV. “We sat as such for several hours until Leonardo spoke in regards to our predicament. A repeat of my display would put you at risk. The blue bast-ahem-Leonardo was meant to only be utilized as emergency transport. It was a temporary necessity. However… I was forced to acknowledge there was now more at play.”

Leo’s head tipped up and he looked toward a darkened ceiling corner.

“The staff had no choice but to accept my staying by your side once I was able.” Donnie had a faint smirk to him. “In situations such as those, I am unbothered. What power do they have? Police?” His teeth gleamed around a laugh, but he subdued it. “It was… your ongoing treatment that proved difficult. Not up to my standards. We’d failed to get S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. inside. You required the facilities and providers available here, but…”

Your lips parted and Donnie offered more water for you to sip.

“My threats along with my volatile ninpo made a dangerous combination. Not that they could have kept me away, but I was threatened with several premise bans.”  

He let the cup sit comfortably against your side.

“You see, upon our arrival here, each of us displayed our powers meaning the uninitiated were confused. Sure, there is an irritatingly obvious color coding, but what was less evident was the effects. Raphael had smothered my attack so only sick, delusional waiting room patients saw a hallucination at best. No one of importance saw what my ninpo created. This was for the best, but to keep it that way, as the lethality of my manifestations happens to be off putting to some-'' Donnie flicked a quick glance toward Leo in gesture. “-I had to be monitored…” His lip curled. “The others sat with me in rotation. I was unfortunately in need of their attendance in case my ninpo activated. The three traded off, but Leonardo’s ninpo is most suited to safely disarming mine.” 

Donnie came close enough that you could lean on him. 

“Waiting at your side gave me only time. Slowly, I achieved enough emotional control so as not to create weapons at the slightest provocation, but I am still me. I acted my usual and voiced my overall displeasure with your ongoing unconscious state. These… comments were not appreciated and compounded as I had worn my welcome. On supposed ‘thin ice,’ there was a particular incident where I slipped and allowed a nurse to see one of my manifestations. Thus a final deal was struck.”

Leo felt comfortable enough to turn and watch with a worn expression.

“Leonardo…” Donnie took on a strange expression that bordered appreciation. “… stepped in. He used his connections, status, and manipulation to garner you a better care rotation. In exchange, he was charged with being my full time handler. I was to defer to him in exchange and he put his entire public reputation on the line if only to keep me from actually being kicked out. If only… to allow us...” Donnie carefully cradled your hand. “... to stay together.” 

You were overwhelmed. 

Suddenly awash, your chest tightened lethally and you sent water works in Leo’s direction. 

The blue turtle startled at the emotion and gave a single sharp nod as if it was a normal duty as any other.

“Shh, don’t waste your limited energy on him. Again, not that it would have mattered. Nothing would have kept me from you.” There was a fragility to Donnie’s usual bravado.

You pinched his fingers to translate that you noticed.

He looked away with the faintest noise of frustration.

“That was a week ago.” Donnie murmured.

“Back up some.” You let go of him to point.

Donnie studied you before adjusting his stool with a rolling slide.

It put him more easily in your reach and you tugged his mask up from his beak.

He grunted, annoyed, but allowed it and you revealed the deeper dark bags barely concealed by it.

Trying to betray little, you delicately put Donnie’s mask back in place before gesturing for Leo to come over. “You next.” 

Leo walked to his spot on the opposite side where he yanked his mask up, unprompted, for you to see his equally swollen lids with an amused fluttering of his lashes.

“Him-” You threw a thumb back to Donnie as you spoke to Leo. “I expect to not sleep, but you?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I lost sleep over the jackass.” Leo smirked.

Donnie rolled his eyes.

“He’s up, I’m up.” Leo shrugged and used both hands to get his mask right. 

“I would never allow myself disarmed around you.” Donnie growled lightly. 

“And you see why neither of us have slept.” Leo’s hands fell away and he cracked you a manic expression like it were an ice cold drink. 

“Where was…?” The memory seemed so vague. “Donnie was portalled in… when I woke up.” 

“Ah.” Leo nodded, thoughtfully, before sending a smarmy look at Donnie. “Now where were you at, hm?” 

Donnie bristled. 

Leo pulled his expression slightly, but waited with a cocked ridge of his mask. 

Donnie let a canine peek as he turned an acidic expression to you. “I have… scheduled meal breaks.” 

Leo wiped a hand over the lower half of his face, no doubt covering a smile. 

“A bargain to make you eat…?” You looked over Donnie with knowing affection. 

For a split second you saw a swipe of guilt flash over your boyfriend’s face before he settled to a neutral expression. “My choice. An accepted one around. The only agreement was travel.” 

“My moment of freedom tainted!” Leo held up a dramatic hand. “Basically, the jam jackass will only go to the cafeteria if I portal him there.” Leo shook his head free of his hand to show his disdain. “Mike or Raph take it from there, but still.” 

“My retribution and instantaneous returns.” Donnie sent a lowered lidful of affection toward you. 

“I’m not a damn taxi.” Leo grumbled. 

You took them both in before you exaggerated a pout. 

You then sank deep into your pillow though it made your body ache.

Donnie switched to worry and touched your arm anxiously.

“Leo.”

Donnie twitched with faint annoyance over you ignoring him.

You held out your hand to soothe him.

“Hm?” Leo leaned back, folding his arms.

Donnie took your hand and sulked.

“I get your stupid banter comment now.”

For a beat nothing happened.

Then Leo popped a single snicker before he burst out laughing.

You clucked along with him until the bubbles of comedy clung and irritated your liver.

Donnie pressed your arm to urge you to stop.

You tossed him a smile.

Leo came away, wiping his eye. “Oh man, I’ve lost my mind… That was good. What a call back…!”

“I’m mad I didn’t see you two get close.” You pursed your lips. 

“We aren’t.”

“We aren’t.”

There was a certain amount of horror passed between them which Donnie dispelled with a puckered focus on his face.

“Knock it off, bozo!” Leo’s lip curled.

“What are you doing…?” You touched Donnie.

“Trying...” Donnie’s eyes narrowed, willing something with all his might. “… to shoot him between the eyes.”

“You can’t do it on purpose yet and hopefully ever.” Leo sneered.

“If you keep that up he will.” You stared at him dully.

“Pfft.” Leo blew a raspberry. “I’ll just do a little abracadabra and poof, it’s disappeared right before your eyes.” He did a flourish with his hands.

“Hypno would be insulted.” You tilted your head away from the poser.

“Hypno’s a hack!” Leo threw up a hand. “I’ve studied the greats!”

“Since when do you-?” You reared your head. “No… I’m… I’m too injured for this.”

Donnie puffed with a single bubble of laughter and then painted a stoic face as if nothing happened.

“We’re literally right here. This room is dead silent.” Leo shook his head.

“Donnie…” You chewed your lip.

Donnie turned his beak up.

“Seven straight days of this.” Leo threw a hand out to Donnie.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say!” You tapped your sheet. “I missed it! Donnie, pull up the recordings!”

Donnie’s hackles went up.

Leo put extra shine on a snarky smile.

“You…” You looked between the pair before settling on Leo in awe. “How the hell did you get him to agree to not tape this?”

“You’re on the line. You’re literally the best bargaining chip anyone could ask for!” Leo turned a smile on you that was eerily similar to Donnie’s malevolent one.

They’d spent too much time together.

“Weak spot…” You whispered in spite of yourself.

“Come again?” Leo held up a hand to his tympanum.

“Nothing.” You crooned.

Leo cocked his brow through his mask.

“You have to fill me in on everything.” You demanded from both of them.

Leo opened his mouth with a retort, but a nurse appeared in the doorway with a tapping foot. “Ahem.”

“Maria! If it isn’t the most lovely night nurse this side of Queens!” Leo spun to her in a flourish and seemed to almost manifest sparkles.

She seemed largely unbothered, but you caught the slightest ghosting of pink to her cheeks from the fluorescence in the hall.

“Give ‘em a break. The lovebirds are making up for lost time…” Leo cooed.

She huffed loudly and renewed the fold of her arms. “They and everyone else in the corridor also need sleep.”

“Done.” Donnie spoke.

Leo polished his grin.

She glared openly at Donnie before sending Leo a pointed look. “I’ll check back in fifteen.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Leo gave a little amorous growl and you gagged to Donnie.

His lip wrinkled with a smile that he buried as soon as Leo walked back over.

“Think that’s a pretty good demonstration of how this arrangements been going.” Leo tossed a thumb back to where he’d come from and reverted to what you assumed was his neutral setting.

Donnie stood and fluffed your pillow.

You looked him over affectionately and felt that ever present exhaustion tug at you again.

It was there. 

It had been there. 

Speaking of it felt like a command and now it threatened to engulf you. 

You hated the helpless feeling of it all. 

“Just like that.” Leo hummed, cocky.

“Shut up.” You grumbled.

“Finally, someone else can tell him.” Donnie took his seat and assumed what must have been his usual waiting posture.

“Ugh, almost forgot you let him ruin your morality.” Leo made a big show of rolling his eyes.

You had more complaints, but your lids were heavy.

“Get some rest.” Leo blessedly dropped the complaint and took a seat in a far chair.

“We’ll get you home soon.” Donnie took your hand and pressed a careful kiss to it. You made a little sweet sound for him, but your vision of him skewed as you dozed off.

💜NEXT💜

Through every crazy little idea I have, my darling betas are right there with me and I could be more honored to know @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

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