#I should wash the windows while I’m doing all the shit

[roserus-wizard]

I got so much shit to do I hate chores aaaaa

[syddsatyrn]

Omg your requests are open. I've seen some of your work and it's amazing❤️

Can you do a smut with Lucifer. He's become my new obsession.

⛧Idle Time is the Devil's Play⛧ By Sydd Satyrn

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, fingering, swearing, fluff

⛧Words: 2.5k

⛧Notes: This was actually rather fun to write, thank you for the request! My head canon in this one is that Lucifer wears reading glasses.

The day started out on the wrong foot from the second you woke up. The dishes are piled up, laundry needs to be done, and how is there so much dust in here?! Nifty does her best to keep up but she's only one tiny person. You begin with the dishes, stack and stacks of plates and bowls, cups and flatware cover the counter. You let out a sigh of disappointment. After working for a short while, Angel Dust walks in with a surprised look on his face. “I thought you were dating the King of Hell, why are you wasting your time with chores?” The tall spider asks, holding a stack of dishes from his room. “Angel, I work here. I don't know how many times I have to tell you…” You reply with an eye roll. “Yeah, yeah, Charlie’s dreams, blah, blah, motherly nonsense. I’m just sayin’ you could totally slack off and get away with it.” He says, placing more dishes on the counter. You give him a side eye, and Angel laughs. “Chill out toots, I’m just playin’.” He says and heads back to his room. He’s right, you could slack off if you wanted to, but you felt the need to try for Charlie. You and Lucifer have been dating for a little over 6 months and within that time you’ve become rather fond of his sweet daughter and her dreams to rehabilitate sinners. So you took on a role at the hotel and did what you could to help make it possible. You wanted to impress Lucifer's daughter, maybe one day she might even see you as family, if you’re lucky.  You finally finish the dishes and take a step back and admire your handiwork. A clean sink, and counters, all the dirty dishes are now washed, dried and put away. It took a good chunk of the morning but it was worth it. The kitchen looks spotless and you decide to move onto the next chore. You tidied a few empty rooms and then delivered clean towels to each room with an occupant. You’re already running out of energy and it's only noon. “You look like you could use some coffee.” Husk says from behind the bar while wiping down the countertops. “You read my mind, Husker.” You say and take a seat at the bar. He pours you a cup of black coffee and sets it in front of you. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I need this.” “Don’t mention it” He says and returns to his countertops. Husk may seem grumpy all the time but you’ve come to know him as a rather genuine and helpful person.

You drink your coffee slowly and contemplate what you should do next. There are so many chores that need to be done, where should you even start? Nifty should be cleaning the bathrooms or taking out the trash by now. You decide to start dusting next, it shouldn't be too hard. 

After dusting the common areas, you begin on the hallways. You start at the top floor and work your way down. You hum quietly to yourself while wiping the window sills. As you turn a corner, you run into Angel Dust, and spill dusting spray all over his jacket. “Shit!” He says while wiping his jacked off with his hand, Angel looks frantic and upset, you’ve never seen him so scared. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” You immediately apologize. “Y/N, I can't find Fat Nuggets anywhere! I took my eyes off of him for one second and he disappeared! My poor baby!” Angel says, clearly in a state. He looks like he might even cry. It’s gonna be okay, we just…need to split up! I’ll head downstairs and you stay up here.”You say, trying to remain calm. Angel nods, and you both go your separate ways.

You search all the rooms on the first and second floor, the lobby, the bar, and even the basement. There is no sign of the little pig. You were sure you would find him rooting around somewhere in the kitchen but still, no Fat Nuggets. You notice the back door is slightly ajar, you definitely didn’t use that door when you were down here earlier. You open it, expecting to have solved the mystery, but still nothing. You lean against the wall and let out a defeated sigh. “Dammit, Fat Nuggets, where are you?” You say out loud. Suddenly there is a rustlin noise inside a tipped over trash can. You lift the lid and inside is a very happy looking little pig. You scoop him up and give him a big hug, he must have gottens stuck out there looking for a snack. As you carry Fat Nuggets upstairs you hear a shriek of joy coming from Angel Dust. “My baby!” He cries as you hand him over. “Don't you ever leave my side again!” He says, baby talking to the little pig while giving him a snuggle. “I owe you one, Y/N.” Angel says with a smile. “Dont worry about it, I’m just happy we found the little guy.” You gently boop the little pig’s nose. —------------ As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, a sense of tranquility settled over the hotel. The warm glow of the fading sunlight painted the walls in soft, golden hues made the place feel somewhat serene. Finding Fat Nuggets took up the rest of your afternoon and you were feeling unusually exhausted. 

 You head down to the lobby and see Nifty cleaning up the last of the dusting you did earlier.

She greets you as usual. “Good Evening, Miss Y/N! How was your day?” She pauses her cleaning and stares up at you with her single cyclops eye. “I am so worn out, Nifty. How are you?” You return, smiling down at her tiny figure.

“I’m okay. There aren't as many bugs in the hotel to squish anymore so I’m getting pretty bored.” You smile at her, Not entirely sure how to respond to that statement. She always says the wildest stuff, but you’re used to it. Alastor says she's always been pretty quirky. “You should go spend time with your boyfriend.” Nifty teases,”I’ll deal with the rest of the chores.” “Thank you, I could really use a break. Today was a mess.” You say with a sigh of relief. After walking down the long, lavish hallway to Lucifer's room. You open the door slowly, you don't want to wake him if he is asleep. The King is already in bed wearing nothing but a robe and his reading glasses. The lamp next on the bedside table is the only source of light in the room. The blonde haired man is reading a book and glances over at you when he hears you come in. “I was wondering when you’d be here.” He says with a smile on his face. He closes his book and sets it on the nightstand along with his gold rimmed glasses. “Sorry I’m late, I’ve had a really long day.” You admit as you sit on the edge of the bed. “Oh? What did you get up to today?” He asks and crawls toward you. “There was a lot to do around the hotel today, a mountain of dishes and so much cleaning. Like seriously, where does all this dust come from?! Then Angel lost Fat Nuggets and he was outside…” You ramble on and Lucifer listens intently. “Fat Nuggets?” Lucifer chuckles and cocks his head to the side. “His pet pig.” You remind him. “Oh, I see…” Lucifer places his hand on your cheek. His warm touch sends shivers down your spine. He pulls your face closer and kisses your lips gently. Your heart flutters and you kiss him back, blushing slightly.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” Lucifer laughs, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. “Sounds like you need some time off. I notice you do a lot around here, you shouldn’t wear yourself out like that.” “I just want to show Charlie that I support her dream and believe in her.” Your words make Lucifer’s heart swell, the fact that you are trying so hard to impress his daughter is quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He smiles at you, his expression full of love and admiration. You return his smile, your face bright red. He pulls you in for a tight hug, burying his face into your hair. “You’re doing just fine, my love. You can let up a little.” He whispers in your ear, “You should let me take care of you for a couple days.” Lucifer's voice is sticky sweet, you can see why Eve was so easily swayed. You melt into his arms and he kisses the top of your head. “I know exactly what you need…” Lucifer days, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. “Do you…?” You ask and giggle at his bold statement. He reluctantly lets go of you and takes off to the bathroom connected to his room. You can hear him turn on the faucet to fill up the tub. Lucifer walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he grabs your hand and pulls you close, his eyes half lidded. He kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Come with me, my dear.” He leads you to the bathroom, the tub is filled about half way with warm water. The room is filling with steam and the lights are low, a few candles are lit. The ambiance is warm and charming just like he is. Your eyes widen and you feel Lucifer hands tug at your clothes, silently telling you to take them off. Your face feels hot as you start to remove your clothing, piece by piece. You leave them in a pile on the floor, trying your best to keep your composure. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting this…” You say, Lucifer smirks, pleased with himself and your reactions. He removes his robe, revealing his perfect body. He steps into the tub and turns to you.

"Well, are you coming or not?" He teases, you take his hand and slowly get in the tub with him. He sits behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you just a bit closer. Together, you both leaned back against the edge of the tub, letting the warmth of the water soothe your weary muscles. The stress of the day melted away, you could feel your muscles relax, you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, breathing him in.

"See? Isn't this much better?" Lucifer purrs in your ear.  

You nod and let your eyes close. You can feel him kiss your temple and you can't help but smile. “I definitely needed this…”You murmured, Lucifer's hands begin to roam your body, his hands trace down your arms. 

"You have the most beautiful skin...I can't help but touch it." He whispers and kisses your neck, you sigh softly. "And you always smell like vanilla, I adore that..."

“You flatter me, Lucifer.” You reply. He kisses the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands begin to massage your shoulders, "Are you cold?" He asks, noticing the goosebumps forming on your skin. With gentle hands, his fingertips traced delicate patterns along the contours of your skin. In the hushed ambiance, time seemed to slow, as if caught in the embrace of the moment. “No, I’m fine.” You assure him.” You’re just really good with your hands.” “Is that so?” Lucifer says with a playful tone. He can barely contain himself, the way your body responds to his touch is fascinating to him. Lucifer's hands travel lower down your torso and gently cup your breasts. You hum softly and push your body closer to his.

"My, you're a needy one tonight, aren't you?" He chuckles and runs his thumbs over your nipples. "I think I know exactly how to help you." His hands travel lower and lower until they reach your core. Your breath hitches and your face turns a bright shade of red and Lucifer notices. "Is that okay, my love?" He asks, making sure he's not overstepping his bounds.

"Y-yes, it's more than okay.”

Lucifer's fingers explore your folds, teasing and prodding. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your body. You gasp as he enters a finger into you. You moan softly and your back slightly arches. "That's it, my love, just let go, let me take care of you." The King’s tone is lustful and alluring. Lucifer adds a second finger and starts thrusting in and out, his thumb rubs your clit. He moves his fingers faster and harder. “Luci…fuck…” You swear followed by another moan, the pleasure is overwhelming. You can feel him smile against your skin, his hand working wonders between your thighs. You bite your lip and whimper, gripping the edge of the tub. Lucifer bites the tip of your ear and quickens his pace. “That’s it my dear, are you gonna cum for me?” Lucifer groans and pushes his fingers deeper inside you. You let out a whimper, a feeling of warmth growing deep within your core. Between the steam from the bathtub and all the stimulation you start to feel a little dizzy. Lucifer groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He focuses back on your clit, his middle finger massaging little circles, picking up speed with each second that passes. You can't stop the moans from escaping your mouth, the pleasure is too much. You can't hold back any longer and your body is rocked with wave after wave of pleasure. Lucifer's fingers move slower, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your face is bright red. Lucifer pulls his fingers out and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight.

"Are you alright?" He asks, kissing your neck. You nod and completely relax into Lucifer's body. You lay in the bathtub together, his fingers caress your arm, he presses another kiss to your temple.

"I think it's time you got some rest." He says, barely above a whisper. You both get out of the tub and Lucifer wraps a towel around you.

"You're absolutely perfect." He says with a grin and kisses your nose. You smile at him, continue to dry off and wrap your hair in a towel. Lucifer loans you a pair of his silk pajamas, they are just slightly too big for you. But all that does is add to how comfortable they are. You lay in bed next to him, the covers pulled over your shoulders. He pulls you close and runs his fingers through your hair.

"So, tomorrow you will do no chores, no errands, just relax and take it easy.” He says, with a slightly demanding tone. You lay your head down on his bare chest and he picks up his book. “Yes sir…no chores…” You murmured against his skin. “He chuckles, "Good girl. That's what I like to hear.” He praises while putting his glasses back on. You're exhausted from the day and can barely keep your eyes open. Before long, you fall asleep in the arms of your love, ready for a trouble free day tomorrow. 

[intoxicated-chan]

Only You, Darling

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel begins to worry about his unborn child, considering his spider DNA and history of losing people, he worries if things are only meant for the worst.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Dark Red” by Steve Lacy. When I tell you about the grip Miguel has on me! I love this man.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 982

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, pregnancy, light angst, established relationship, mentions of cheating, mentions of intercourse, swearing, little paranoia, very fluffy…

You stared at the positive test. You remained still before looking back at the other five positive tests. Your breathing became ragged as you knew Miguel would be home in a few hours.

You still had some time left, hide the evidence and find a way to explain it to Miguel. He thought that it was almost impossible to get you pregnant, which is why you hoped it wouldn’t make him think of the worst. You wouldn’t blame him if he did.

You begin cleaning up the torn boxes and used tests, throwing them in the small garbage bin without a second thought. You shouldn’t be worried about this now, you should be worried if Miguel was going to make it home on time or late, again.

But all the silence scared you to death as there was no way to calm you. Nothing would stop you from pacing around the living room. What felt like minutes were hours, and when your head snapped in the direction of a thud coming from your shared room. You cursed to yourself, knowing only one person to take the window instead of the front door.

“(Y/n)!” You heard him call out.

You choke on your words for a few seconds before finally being able to speak, “...I’m in the living room!”

You could practically hear him let out a sigh of relief as you heard his footsteps from your room and to the living room, seeing him still in his costume, “I thought you went out for a run again.”

“Well, I do know how much you hate them.”

“Because you take them during the night, I’ve told you how dangerous it is.” He comes to you, placing a quick kiss on your lips before pulling back, “I’m going to get washed up.” He walks to the bathroom but stops and looks over his shoulder, “Care to join me?”

“Well I-”

“That’s fine.” Miguel tells you, “But I could use someone to wash my back.”

“Miguel-”

And he sped to the bathroom, tired but… Shit! You never took out the trash!

“Miguel!” You call out again but no answer. You were too late, he’s already in the bathroom. You still had time, all you needed to was not freeze in place and open the damn door! But you can’t. You didn’t have the right to keep this information from Miguel, he deserves to know.

While you left him in the bathroom, you sat on your shared bed, waiting for him…

It’s been a half-hour. No sound of the shower turning on or anything from the bathroom. But your heart drops, hearing the door open and Miguel comes to the room, test in hand as his eyes tell his whole expression.

“I-”

“I know you didn’t cheat on me.” He whispers, setting the test on the dresser, “But how long have you known for?”

“Just this morning, a few hours after you left for work.” You answer.

“Just this morning?”

“Just this morning.” You repeat, looking into his eyes.

Miguel takes a deep breath, “Okay, okay.” But then he grabs a duffle bag from your closet and sets it on the bed, he pulls open your drawer and starts filing the bag up, “You can’t stay here.” He answers before you say anything.

“Listen to me, Miguel.”

“It’s not safe for you here.”

“Miguel-”

“I’m a danger and you know it.”

“Miguel!” You grab his wrist, “Stop. You know damn well I trust you with my life. You may think that’s the worst thing I ever said but I mean it. I know you have the strength to protect me, I love you Miguel and I promised to stand by you no matter what happens. So please, don’t push me away.”

“It’s not that I’m a danger to you, I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything, Miguel. And I’m hoping that you will let me give it all to you.” Feeling his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly as if it was his last day.

The next couple of weeks were filled with doctor visits and holded up at home. It’s not like you didn’t stay home before, it’s just Miguel wanted to be sure you were in a safe location and that it would be your shared home.

“Did you take-?”

“My prenatals?” You finish his question, placing a kiss on his forehead, “Yes I did.” You kissed him again, “You don’t gotta worry about me, Miguel. With the doctor visits and the pills, I’m doing just fine.”

“I know.” Miguel sat on the couch while you sat on his lap, you felt his hands come to your stomach, “Does the doctor know when you would start showing?”

“In a couple more weeks but it’s different for everyone.” You tell him, feeling him nuzzle into your neck. You feel his hands rub your stomach, “Are you okay, Miguel?”

He hums, nodding into your shoulder, “It’s just… What if I’m a horrible father?”

“Don’t you dare say that!” You get up, turn your body to face him and sit back down, “I know you’ll be a wonderful father, Miguel. No matter what anyone says. And I know that this child will love you.”

He looks at you and slowly, a smile forms, “This is what I’m talking about.” He lays his head on your chest.

“What do you mean?” You ask. Then you look at his ears, the tip of them being red, “Miguel?”

“I think we should have more kids.”

Your hands come to his hair, “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

He suddenly grabs your shoulders tightly and he snaps his head up, “Seriously?!”

You burst out laughing, “Of course!” You speak in between laughter, “I want nothing more than to start a family with you.” You calm down.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You’ll always have me.”

© 2033 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

[reidsdimples]

When Everything Changed | Part 2

Part 1

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Enemies to lovers- Angst 🖤

Inspired by Wires by Athlete

Tw: hospitals, injury, Spencer near death

Your feud with Spencer feels trivial after you’re both shot

The first time you wake, you’re in a panic. The ceiling of the trauma unit is speeding by in a blur while people around you push the stretcher. There’s an immense amount of pressure and pain in your shoulder which is probably why you’re screaming. It’s also probably why every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire.

“They’re FBI agents! Get them in here now,” somebody screams.

You black out again and come to as you’re being moved onto a table. The room sways as you crash harshly into the metal surface.

“Spencer…” you murmur as one of the surgeons places a mask over your face. All goes black with shouts and medical equipment blaring in your ears.

-

The room comes into view in a blur. You try to glance around but the figure standing over you is indistinguishable.

Finally your brain catches up to your eyes and you see JJ and Rossi at your bedside.

“What happ…” your voice gives out.

“You were shot in the shoulder. It was a flesh wound, they got the bullet out,” Rossi says and places his hand on yours.

You allow Rossi’s father-like comfort to wash over you before panic seized you once more. The room stirs and your stomach drops as the reality of the situation kicks in.

You wince and lay your head back, it feels like someone placed a led weight in your shoulder. Then it comes back to you.

“Reid, what happened to Reid?” You gasp.

“He’s still in surgery,” JJ answers. Her tone tells you it’s bad.

“How long?”

“You’ve been here about 4 hours, Spencer’s been in surgery for 3,” Rossi informs you.

“Is he…” tears well in your eyes. He took a bullet for you. Both bullets should have hit you. Why would he do that?

“He’s in critical condition,” Rossi’s voice is filled with sorrow. The words are a blow to your abdomen, drawing all of the oxygen from your lungs.

“No,” you whisper and try to sit up. Guilt creeps its way in and claws its way down your spine.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N,” JJ reassures you. You shake your head.

The doctor enters and begins checking you out and encouraging you to rest. You argue that you can’t rest until you know your coworker is okay.

While the gesture was nice, whatever pain medicine he pushes into your IV sends you back into darkness before you can stop it.

-

The next time you wake, you feel more normal. As though waking up from regular sleep instead of from passing out in shock.

Sunlight filters through the massive glass windows which overlook the city. Your concept of time is non existent but at least you only have one IV in you now instead of three.

“You’re awake,” Garcia smiles and stands. Her usual bouncy optimism is missing in her words. She looks exhausted.

“Did he…” you don’t even know what to ask.

“He’s out of surgery. He’s critical but stabilized,” she answers in a hushed tone.

“I’m so sorry,” your voice cracks.

“Why are you apologizing? You were shit too,” she softens her voice and pushes your hair back from your face,

“That bullet should have hit me, I don’t know why he got in the way,” you sniffle.

“That bullet might have struck you in the head,” she raises her eyebrows like you’re being ridiculous. She was right though, your head is right at the same height as his neck.

“He couldn’t have known that,” you reason.

“No but he instinctively would have protected anybody on this team. He didn’t have to think about it,” she tries not to cry.

“I know,” you nod.

Just then Hotch and Prentiss enter the room, smiling to see you awake.

“Hey,” Prentiss hugs you gently.

“What are the doctors saying?” You ask anyone out loud.

“They’re hopeful you’ll only need to be monitored for another 24 hours,” Hotch informs.

“I meant about Reid,” you say.

“The bullet entered the front of his neck and lodged into his trachea. It was touch and go for a while but they were able to remove the bullet and reconstruct the damaged airway,” Hotch starts.

“He went into respiratory distress this morning and had to get intubated. He’s on a ventilator now. That’s why he’s still critical. He’s not breathing fully on his own and they’re trying to drain the blood and fluid from his lungs,” Garcia adds.

“I…” you lip quivers and tears start to fall. You’re horrified for him. “He must be so scared,” you whisper.

“He’s sedated, he doesn’t know what’s happening,” Prentiss says softly.

Of course he’s sedated, he wouldn’t be awake and intubated.

You’re about to say something when one of the ICU’s alarms begins to blare.

“Code blue, room 3489,” you startle and sit up as the three of them rush out of the room. Nurses and doctors take off down the hall.

“Wait!” You cry.

Code blue- someone is in respiratory or cardiac arrest. You want nothing more than to get out of the damned bed but you’re hooked up to an IV and an alarm.

Garcia nods and throws her hand over her mouth before darting back to you.

“It’s not him, it’s not Reid,” she huffs a relieved crying sort of laugh and hugs you.

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t deal with losing someone on the team. It would destroy you.

You couldn’t imagine going to work and not competing with him to be the smartest in the room. It was annoying but god right now you missed it. You even missed his dad’s and his attitude and snarky remarks. You were so mad at him for taking that step in front of you. Yet you just wanted to be there at his bedside like the rest of the team.

“I want to see him,” you tell her.

“You will. You just have to focus on getting your strength back first,” she says. Garcia had a way of saying things that was so comforting.

The rest of that day was spent sleeping and getting a play by play of Reid’s progress.

-

The following morning you were up on your feet and able to walk around perfectly fine. Your arm was in a sling to prevent excess movement on your shoulder but for the most part you felt fine.

You were eager to go see Reid, though you weren’t sure why. The team had warned you that it wouldn’t be easy to see him hooked up to the breathing tube and other wires. You should be reluctant. But you just needed to show yourself that at the very least, he was still alive.

Stepping into his room was jarring and you froze in the doorway. His entire body was limp, his head flopped to the side, and his hair pulled from his face with a rubber band. He looked everything and nothing like himself.

He had drains and tubes coming out of his lungs and out of the hole in his throat, the tube down his throat forced his Adam’s apple to be protruded out, and you couldn’t count the amount of medication drips he was hooked up to.

His usual dark circles were deeper, more purple, his skin pale, and a feeding tube was inserted into his nose. You swallowed hard and took a slow step closer to him. He was always so animated and full of life, yapping constantly. To see him so motionless, so silent… it was devastating.

Morgan was sitting in the chair next to his bed, his head down next to Reid. He had fallen asleep. Reid was like his little brother, he hadn’t left his side. He was still wearing the same clothes from the night of the shooting.

You could see the breathing machine pumping, inflating his lungs for him. You could hear a low hum and what sounded like fluid in there. Occasionally it looked like he would cough or gag around the tube.

“It’s normal, his body isn’t used to there being a tube there,” the nurse informs you as she injects something into his IV line.

“Does it hurt?” You ask.

“He’s not aware of it if it does,” she gives you a sympathetic smile.

His fingers twitched momentarily but it was the only sign of movement.

You pull a chair up next to him and sit slowly. You can’t take your eyes off of him. You physically feel your heart break seeing him like this. Seeing any one of your team like this would devastate you. But Reid… you had a complicated but reluctantly understanding with. He was more like you than anyone else there. Seeing him often felt like looking in a mirror, seeing him hurt was too much.

“The machine is only doing 20% of the breathing for him. The fluid has reduced a lot. This is progress,” Hotch says somberly. You nod and wipe a tear.

You wished Reid could talk. He’d give you a million different probabilities of how this could play out along with a run down of what all of the equipment did. He’d be realistic but you had a feeling he’d give you hope. Maybe though, you just wanted to hear his voice.

You touch his hand, and trace his fingers delicately. You wished you could help him. Wished you could do something.

Garcia rubs Morgans back and gestures for him to follow her. The team leaves you to have a minute alone with him.

“Why did you take that step?” Is the first thing you say through tears. “That was so stupid,” you laugh. “You’re supposed to be the genius,” you breathe out another tear fueled laugh.

You wrap your hand over his and squeeze.

“This team needs you, please just keeping fighting Reid,” you implore him. “Your mom will be here tonight. It took some strings to pull but Garcia has her on a plane now.”

“I’m so mad at you. You brilliant asshole,” you can’t help but to smile.

And then, you don’t know why you do it. He would hate it surely, but you stand up and plant a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Your hair looks ridiculous by the way,” you whisper and push the baby hairs back.

You start to think that maybe if you hadn’t holstered your gun, Reid wouldn’t have felt the need to step in front of you to take the shot. That’s realization hits you like a ton of bricks and forces you to sit back down.

You were really starting to feel like it was your fault.

“I’m so sorry, Reid,” your voice cracks and you squeeze his hand a final time before leaving the room.

“Let’s get you home,” JJ says and grabs your uninjured arm.

-

Days passed, days passed and you didn’t want to leave your house. You listened to the doctors and primarily did bed rest, but you were ancy.

Spencer had been taken off of sedation last night and was becoming more lucid. You would get to see him tonight. Garcia says he’s improving quickly.

The last few days passed in a blur, the same way a hummingbird passes by a kitchen window. You rub your arms and sip your coffee. You don’t know how what you’re going to say to him.

Part of you still warred with guilt, with the way that technically you guys didn’t even like each other. Yet something had changed. Something gave way that night. You couldn’t explain it but you needed to talk to him. Maybe you needed to know whether or not he blamed you.

Did you make a bad call by holstering your gun?

You didn’t know. Hotch still hadn’t debriefed you or taken your statement of events.

Night falls and you step into Spencer’s hospital room hesitantly. You had been haunted by the state in which you saw him last time, the trauma of it all clawing at your heart.

To your surprise, his bed is propped up and there’s a book in his hand. You smile with delight at the way he can’t help but attempt to lean forward over the book like always.

“Wow,” you say. It’s remarkable how much better he looks. Still injured, still disheveled, but so much better.

He waves at you with that flat smile he favors.

“He can’t talk right now,” Morgan informs. “But he wrote down a list,” he holds up a stack of books.

“Of course Dr. Reid wakes up from a coma and wants to read Dostoevsky,” you smile.

He doesn’t return the sentiment but grabs what appears to be a white board and marker. He starts scribbling before holding it up to you.

“How are you?” It reads.

“Sore, but alive,” you want to say ‘thanks to you’ but you refrain. Instead you take a seat on the opposite side of the bed as Morgan.

“Well now that you’re here, I think I’m going to go home and rest,” Morgan sighs and stands.

“You’ve only been here a week,” you joke. “Get out of here, we’ll call you if anything changes.”

Spencer starts scribbling on his board again.

“I’m sorry,” it says in his signature hand writing.

“For what?” You ask softly and adjust in your chair to look in his bloodshot eyes.

“That you still got hit,” it says simply and he frowns.

“Don’t apologize! You saved my life,” you respond exasperatedly. “We almost lost you Spencer. You have nothing to be sorry for,” you don’t realize it but you start pacing. “I was so mad at you for stepping in front of me. That bullet should have been for me,” you gesture at him.

His eyebrows furrow and he starts shaking his head.

“No.” He writes on the board.

You sigh and sit back down when you see that his heart rate increases significantly on the monitor.

“Are you okay?” You redirect the conversation. He thinks for a moment and you find yourself wanting to touch his hair, to comfort him. It’s a new desire, an odd one.

“They haven’t explained what happened to me. I don’t remember,” he scribbles.

“Do you want me to tell you?” You ask and place your hand on his.

He looks down at where you touch him but nods.

You tell him everything from the moment you saw him bleeding to the surgery and the coma.

“But you’re out of the woods and making great strides to recovery,” you finish.

He presses his palm into his eye socket as though his head hurts before writing again.

“Thank you. I’m okay,” is all it says.

“You’re straining your eyes by reading,” you point out when he blinks as thought his head hurts.

He nods, aware of that fact.

“Here,” you take the book from him. He lets you and points out where he left off. You begin to read to him and he lays back in the bed with a deep breath.

“…He was so obsessed with what had happened to him that he was afraid to put it into words, lest he should lose it all at once, lest he should be left with nothing. He was so possessed by the idea that he was afraid to think of anything else; he wanted to forget everything else, to think of nothing, to do nothing, to feel nothing, so as not to lose what he had gained…” you trail off.

When you glance over at him he’s gripping his journal, the pen beside him, and he’s fallen asleep.

You dim the lights and take his journal from him. You glance only at what he had dozed off writing.

‘I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.’

The quote takes you by surprise, mostly the familiarity of it. You can’t place where you’d read it before nor could you figure out why he was writing it.

Nonetheless you place the journal on the table beside him before moving to get comfortable in the recliner. You would sleep there tonight.

Sleep finds you slowly, the quote he sketched replaying in your mind. You’ll figure out where you read it tomorrow.

A/N: I just finished season 8, I had no idea until after writing this that Spence suffers a similar injury in season 9- oops.

[harrywavycurly]

What You Deserve Part 3: Start Small

Masterlist: Here

CW: Tiniest mention of your toxic ex

Tag List: @littlered0000 @saramelaniemoon @ali-r3n @sapphire4082 @sweetmoonlove0214 @eddies-girl-22 @darknesseddiem @peaches-roses-sins @blckburd @comeonatmebruh @daisy-munson @cultish-corner @mrsjellymunson @aol19 @micheledawn1975 @2000babies

A/N: You might be nervous but don’t worry Eddie’s got you also it’s a long one so I split it up into sections and it’ll make sense as you read, enjoy🫠✨

“Good Morning.” “Good Morning…uh you didn’t have to knock on my door you could’ve just honked or-” “honked?…sweetheart I’m not sixteen and running late to school….I’m here to pick you up so that means I knock on the door or ring the bell…whatever you prefer and walk you to my car.” “Oh…Steven just honks…it’s not that big of deal really if it’s easier than getting all the way out-” “it’s not your job to make things easier on anyone…especially Harrington.” “Sorry…I’ll uhm work..on that.” “You don’t have to apologize…so shall we exit the porch now or did you want to stand here for a bit longer?” “Oh yeah yeah we can go…holy shit is that your car?” “One of them yeah…do you not like it? I went with the one that has the smoothest ride…since I know feeling comfortable while inside a car is important to you.” “It’s so…nice I don’t want to like…get it dirty or anything.” “Sweetheart…it’s car…it’s gonna get dirty and that’s fine I’ll just wash it…trust me…there’s nothing you could do that I can’t fix…so please…get in the car.”

“Okay…” “Your coffee is right there…and feel free to change the radio to whatever you want.” “Thank you…oh you don’t care if I touch this stuff?” “Well you’re going to have to touch it if you want to change the station…” “I’m uh not used to being able to mess with the buttons in the car if I’m not driving.” “Please tell me Harrington-” “No no Steven lets me but him and I listen to the same stuff so it was fine…it was uh…my last uhm boyfriend he..didn’t let me control anything in the car.” “Well let’s get this out of the way now okay?…I’m Eddie…or to you I’m sure you’d prefer to call me Edward but either way…I’m not your ex…so whatever he was like and by the sounds of it he wasn’t a very…nice guy…so just know I’m not like him…so feel free to touch all the buttons and change the station..hell roll your window down if you want I don’t care…what’s mine is yours okay?” “Really?” “Yes..that’s a big part of this…type of relationship…whatever I have you also have…and if there’s something you want then just tell me and I’ll do my best to get it for you.” “Oh wow…okay…uh so when you say relationship what uhm…what would I call you?” “What do you mean?” “Like…when you drop me off today and someone asks oh who was that? Is that your boyfriend? What…what should I say? I can’t just be like oh that’s just my…sugar daddy Eddie.” “Yeah that’s sort of a mouthful isn’t it?” “I mean that’s uh just assuming you….you want to be my daddy…sugar daddy…sorry I’m just nervous and you’re…a uhm little intimidating in person but not in a bad way it’s…it’s like in the same way I’d feel around Tony Soprano or someone like that.” “Did you just compare me to a mob boss? That’s the vibes I give off?….if so then me and my stylist need to have a conversation about my wardrobe.” “You have a stylist?” “She does my shopping for me once every two months or so because I hate shopping for clothes….but Tony Soprano…really?” “I mean…you just look like you could easily have someone whacked with the snap of a finger and…yet you also look like you give really good hugs which is important because sometimes a good hug can just fix everything and…and you just…I feel…safe? Even though I don’t really know you…I’d trust you with my drink at a party.” “I’m honored that you’d leave your drink with me at a party and I’m glad you feel safe with me…but you make me sound like I’m some super badass dude…when I’m just a business owner who doesn’t have any mafia connections at all so no matter how many times I snap my fingers no one is getting whacked…” “damn..I was going to give you a list.” “But I have been told I give good hugs.” “That’s good…that’s really good to know….so uhm…how do we actually do this? Do I sign something? Do you want a trial run to see if I annoy you or not?” “I don’t need a trial run…also this isn’t fifty shades of grey I don’t need you to sign anything.” “You’ve seen those movies?” “No I read the books.” “Oh…you…you like to uhm…read? That’s…great.” “So why don’t we start small for now?” “Okay…what does that mean exactly?” “You let me take you to and from work this week and we can get to know each other more and…you let me buy you dinner Friday night?” “Okay that…sounds fine.” “And Friday over dinner we can discus what we both want out of this? Does that sound doable?” “Yes…that’s doable.” “Perfect.”

“Harrington isn’t even here yet and the store opens in five minutes?” “Yeah but that’s fine I have a key and can open the store up.” “By yourself?” “Yeah? I do it all the time.” “That’s…not safe…Steve should know better than that.” “It really is okay…oh are you going to see Dave today?” “I am…I’m actually going to work on him myself.” “Really?” “Yeah I figured he deserved to be worked on by someone that knows his life story…I’m gonna do what I can for him don’t worry.” “Easier said than done…” “I know…oh look who decided to actually show up to work.” “He’s not late so that’s actually good timing for him…so uhm I’ll see you later?” “Yeah I’ll be here when your shift is over.” “So uh have a good day Eddie…” “thanks sweetheart…tell Harrington to call me.” “Uh oh he’s in trouble isn’t he?” “No…not at all…” “what are you-” “you didn’t think I’d let you open your own door did you?” “Oh…uhm well thank you.” “Have a good day…oh and please don’t wait for me outside when you’re done working okay? I’ll come inside and get you.” “Okay…I’ll see you later then…” “Yes…now I gotta go but I’ll tell Dave hello for you.” “Thanks…for uhm…everything.” “You’re welcome.”

[dirtytomatoedwrites]

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 3

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!Reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

PART 1 / PART 2

Warnings:  18+ Smut. Darkish!Rafe. Virgin!Reader. Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Oral (w receiving) hand job (m receiving). Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 6K

Author Note: Sorry it's taken me long to update we've had a death in the family and it's been a lot to deal with. Writing was the last thing on my mind at the moment. I'm just putting part 3 out there but once things are settled I'll write part 4. I'd like to think there'll be more parts than 4 because the story is now starting to pick up. But it depends on how well this part does. 🧡❤️🧡

Also, I changed part 2 slightly so it may be worth re-reading before reading part 3. 🧡

For those who asked to be tagged. Thank you so much for reading and sticking with the story.  Much love and take care. ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Curled up on the sofa beneath a cozy blanket, you slowly blinked open your eyes, adjusting to the room's muted glow. Rafe's voice, a deep murmur, sliced through the quiet ambiance. He was sitting on the edge of an armchair, his phone held to his ear while his other hand absentmindedly glided over his buzzcut.

"Why are they stalling?" his voice barely above a whisper was undeniably firm.

"And their counteroffer? No. Not for a piece of that size. They're well aware of its rarity, right? The clarity? They stand to gain at least 40% profit once it's resold. They know it. I know it. Ninety, and that's me being generous." His fingers stilled their exploration, and his thumb wandered down to his bottom lip, hinting at the storm just beneath the surface. "No, it's non-negotiable. Look, I'm trying to be nice here, alright? But if they keep fucking around with the number, they'll soon find out I’m not so accommodating after all. No more games. I'm done with their shit—Ninety. Final offer."

Your heart pounded, every beat magnifying the gravity of Rafe's words. This was clearly far more than just ninety dollars; it hinted at an intricate web of dealings far beyond your understanding. While whispers of his dubious associations had always floated around town, hearing Rafe speak with such authority was jarring. The sheer force he wielded and the unmistakable power resonating in every syllable revealed that he wasn't just a small player in whatever this game was. He was at its very epicenter, a dominant force controlling the strings. And as this realization washed over you, a sinking sensation set in: you barely knew him at all.

"Now, about that other forty. I want it. Today." He let the words hang for a moment, his tone colder "You keeping office hours now? What the fuck do you mean 'after six'?" His voice tightened with irritation. "Nah, I don't want to hear that shit." he spat. "It's either you have it or you don't, and you should have it since you had one job yesterday; to collect."

Despite trying to stay unnoticed, your numbing arm forced you to shift slightly on the couch, catching Rafe's discerning eye. Rafe's penetrating gaze bore into you, suspending the world in a split second. Amidst the pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows, the weight of the silence pressed in until Rafe finally looked away. "I'll be there in an hour," he murmured, his voice suddenly calmer. "I have some things to take care of first."

As he disconnected the call, you swallowed.

"Is everything okay?" You asked, your voice trembled as you propped yourself up on an elbow.

Rafe approached, confidence exuding with each step. "Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about," he reassured, leaning in for a gentle kiss on your lips.

"How long was I out?"

"About an hour, give or take," Rafe responded, his thumb brushed away a stray eyelash from your cheek. The simple, tender gesture contrasted starkly with the side of him you had just heard on the phone.

You hesitated, your curiosity getting the better of you. "Did you manage to get much done while I was asleep?" Hoping for some insight into his earlier phone conversation.

Rafe's smirk held many layers. "Yeah, handled some business, made a few calls, and I might've watched you a little...."

"Watched me? You mean you just sat there and watched me sleep?"

He moved closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "Not often do I see you so… relaxed around me. So yeah, I indulged a little." He murmured, pressing his lips to your cheek. "Besides, I like knowing I can make you feel good. Make you cum til you pass out. It’s up there with watching you squirt,” he grinned.

The change in topic, from shady dealings to fevered intimacy, was a dizzying experience, and you found yourself taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

"Listen," he suddenly said, leaning back to look you in the eye. “I have some business I need to wrap up. I could also do with a shower and a change of clothes." His gaze slipped down to his attire; he had changed back into his shirt, now less damp but very wrinkled. “What's your plan for dinner?

"Dinner?" You tried to keep up, the rapid change in topics leaving your thoughts scrambled. “Uh... Leftovers, I guess.”

“Wanna come over? Eat at mine instead?”

The invitation caught you off guard. The unexpectedness of it made you feel like you were navigating through a dense fog, with every step bringing a new, unanticipated revelation. But you nodded, despite the uncertainty coiling within.

Rafe's expression softened, picking up on your hesitation. He leaned in, his lips brushed against your ear. “You do know what this means, right? You'll have to deal with my company a bit longer. Think you can handle that without making a run for it?"

You tried to muster a playful retort, but his lips captured yours before you could speak, a deep, overwhelming kiss that made you weak.

Pulling back, he smiled, "I'll pick you up around six, yeah?"

“Okay.” Your voice was but a whisper.

As he moved toward the exit, the shadow of his phone call loomed over your thoughts. Only when you heard his truck roar to life did you finally exhale, sinking deeper into the sofa. Your mind was a whirl with questions you didn't know how to begin to ask, let alone answer.

By the time the clock struck 6, you were already fresh from a shower and dressed in jeans paired with a simple white vest top and an oversized cardigan. Right on cue, the low hum of Rafe's truck resonated outside, its headlights casting a gentle glow on your porch. After ensuring you had your phone and keys, you gave yourself a quick glance in the mirror and then headed out to meet him.

Suave as ever, Rafe leaned across his truck to push the door open for you. Offering his hand for support, he helped you up into the seat. A warm smile naturally bloomed on your face, and with a soft "Hey," you acknowledged his chivalry.

"Hey," he echoed, the familiar gravelly timbre warm and inviting. Without another word, he leaned in, capturing your lips with a kiss. As you pulled away for a breath, your gaze wandered over him, taking in every detail. He smelt amazing, something rich and woodsy, while the crisp black shirt and jeans he wore accentuated his toned physique. It gave him that distinct, effortless style he carried so naturally — the very essence of a kook.

As you settled beside him, a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. It wasn't a lack of confidence in your appearance—Rafe had always been vocal about how beautiful he found you. He had a candid manner of complimenting, and today's earlier affectionate proclamations were just another testament to his feelings. Yet, a nagging voice inside you questioned why someone as polished and affluent as Rafe would be into someone like you when he could easily have anyone from his own elite circle.

As the journey began, the ambiance in the truck was tranquil, but underlined by a tension you couldn't ignore. Rafe seemed to be miles away, his eyes barely leaving the road ahead and memories of his earlier phone conversation played on repeat in your head. Could his aloofness be about the business deal you overheard? Did something go wrong? The only breaks in the silence were his occasional clearing of his throat or sniff, causing you to swallow hard and stare out of your passenger window to calm your nerves.

When you exited the vehicle at Tannyhill a rush of nostalgia hit, interwoven with memories that weren’t as endearing. It was weird being there now for pleasure rather than work and at the behest of Rafe not Rose. Possibly sensing your hesitation, Rafe gently grasped your hand, leading you toward the entrance. As he swung the front door open, an overwhelming quiet enveloped the surroundings.

"Is Rose and Mr. C around?" you asked, noting the dimly illuminated hallway that stretched toward the kitchen and beyond.

"Nah, they're in the Bahamas. Business trip. They'll be there for a while." Rafe replied, his voice echoing in the quiet expanse of the house.

"What about Wheezie?"

"She's with them.”

"And Sarah?"

Rafe's face twitched slightly. "Don't know, don't care. Haven't seen her in, what, three weeks? She could be in a ditch for all I care—" His gaze met yours, "I'm kidding," he smiled. Yet, a flicker of something shadowy behind his eyes made you think otherwise.

"So, it's just the two of us tonight?" you asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

Rafe gave a nonchalant shrug, "Looks like it."

Entering the kitchen, your eyes flitted to the island, noticing several neatly stacked pizza boxes. "Planning a feast or what?"

His grin broadened, revealing the playful side you always adored. "Thought you'd be hungry after your day. Vegan, pepperoni, or drowned in cheese. Take your pick."

Laughing, you approached, your finger tracing the edge of the closest box. "Always one step ahead, aren't you?"

Rafe pulled you closer, warmth radiating from him. "Well, yeah. Gotta keep my girl happy and fed,” his voice husky as he leaned in for a kiss.

After devouring slice after slice and transitioning from the kitchen to the cozy ambiance of the living room, you and Rafe settled in, surrounded by plush cushions and the soft glow of the floor lamps. As conversations ebbed and flowed Rafe's gaze followed yours, landing on the Steinway.

"Do you want to play something?" Rafe asked lips curling into a small smile.

"Oh no you don't.” you said with a shake of your head. “I'm not falling for that, again.”

Rafe leaned in, his grin widening. "What do you mean?" he prodded, matching your playful tone.

"Every time I play, we end up..." You left the sentence hanging, heat creeping up your neck.

Rafe leaned in closer, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "We end up doing what?" he asked with faux innocence.

You gave him a knowing look, your eyes saying everything that words didn't need to. Really, Rafe?

"I like when you play." he said slowly with a shrug.

"I know you do... a little too much," you replied, your voice laced with humor and a touch of fond exasperation.

“Alright, don’t play.” He said with a sly smile as he patted the space beside him on the sofa. You found yourself irresistibly drawn to him, nestling close, the comfort of his warmth enveloping you.

Lost in a dance of gentle touches and lingering glances, Rafe pulled you closer. With each soft, deliberate kiss, the world outside faded away. His fingers toyed with the collar of your cardigan, his middle finger hooking the fabric, gently sliding it off your shoulder, as he peppered your skin with slow soft kisses.

"I think... yeah, this is the least clothing I've seen you in, not including earlier today," he murmured against your skin. "I like it. I like being able to have access to you."

As he spoke, his fingers ventured under the back of your vest, soft digits skimming upwards past your bra strap to your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His affectionate kisses stirred a profound desire within you, compelling you to cradle his face and initiate a fevered kiss of your own, a blend of lips and intertwining tongues.

"Stay," he murmured, his words a gentle plea brushing against the corner of your lips. "Stay with me," he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Tonight?" you questioned quietly, a hint of uncertainty tinging your voice.

"Tonight, tomorrow, as long as you like," he shrugged, his tone revealing a deep yearning. His candidness took you aback, causing your heart to flutter.

"I have a class in the morning," you responded, your hesitation evident.

"Of course, you'd have class on a Saturday. Who takes a class on a Saturday?"

"It's for extra credit," you playfully huffed.

"I'm sure it is, you lil freak.” Rafe remarked with an amused smile as he bit down on your shoulder. You hissed in response to the sudden, sharp pain. He immediately soothed the area with his tongue, a slow and sensual gesture that had you pressing your thighs together.

"What time?" he murmured against your skin.

"Hm?" you managed to reply, your mind struggling to focus.

"What time is your class?" he repeated, his lips still dangerously close to your neck.

"Ten," you answered, regaining some semblance of coherence.

"Okay," Rafe said, his voice low and husky as he made plans. "I’ll drive you home, you grab your stuff, and then I'll take you to class…" His words trailed off as his lips grazed the soft skin of your neck once more. He paused, pulling back slightly to search your face, his gaze filled with understanding. "But it's not just about your class, is it?" There was a knowing look in his eyes, a hint that he comprehended some of your apprehension, even though it remained unspoken.

"Don't…" you began as you licked your lips. "Don't you think we might be moving a bit fast?" you whispered. The pace of things had taken a sharp turn; just yesterday, you were literally hiding from him, and today, not only had you let him finger you into a coma you now found yourself wrapped around him like a scarf, his hand exploring beneath your clothes like he owned you. It was only natural to worry that things were progressing way too rapidly, burning too brightly, and possibly destined to fizzle out just as quickly as it had started.

"Nah, I don't." Rafe drawled as his nose brushed against your shoulder, inhaling your scent. “If we were moving fast, I would have fucked you a long time ago.”

You jerked your head away, staring at him with wide eyes while Rafe smiled, clearly enjoying your worried expression.

"What?" you asked softly.

“Oh, yeah.” Rafe nodded, “In fact, I would have fucked you quite a few times by now, in every position I could think of.” he said nonchalantly. A deep chuckle escaped him as he relished your deer-in-the-headlights expression. “But I also get that all of this is new for you, so..." his fingers traced your jaw. "We’ll take it slow. Until I can't hold back any longer."

"Rafe!" you breathed, and he threw his head back with a hearty laugh.

"I'm kidding," he laughed, his eyes sweeping over your features like a tender caress. "I'm kidding."

"So if I stay over..." you began, shifting nervously in his embrace. "We’re not..."

"Nah, we won't," he assured, understanding your apprehension. “But I can't promise to keep my hands or mouth off of you. It’s only fair, right? After all the stress you’ve put me through.” He murmured. 

“Stress! I give you stress-”

“So much fucking stress” You could feel the smile on his lips as he pressed them against your cheek, and you wondered if he could tell you were blushing. “Stay,” he said again, his tone resolute, treating it as the final word on the matter.

"Alright... I'll stay."

As the night wore on, the comforting cadence of your conversation intertwined with the weight of the day, gradually lulling you into a drowsy state. Feeling your eyelids grow heavy, Rafe kissed your temple softly. "Come on," he whispered, wrapping his fingers around yours and leading you up the winding stairs to his room.

Stepping into Rafe's bedroom for the first time, you were taken aback. The space was pristine, a stark contrast to the wild, chaotic tales of mayhem that accompanied him. Everything had its place, from the perfectly aligned books on his desk to the immaculately ironed shirts in his open closet.

Rummaging through his belongings for a brief moment, he emerged with an old jersey and a pair of shorts. "Here, try these” he suggested, handing them to you.

"In just one day, we've exchanged a lot of clothes” you said with a soft chuckle.

Rafe's eyes danced with mischief. "Well, if you want, I'm happy for us to ditch the clothes altogether."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you retorted, "Keep dreaming, Cameron."

His response was accompanied by a sly, teasing grin, "Oh, I already have." As he began to methodically unbutton his shirt, his captivating eyes held yours in a magnetic pull. Although you had already seen him shirtless. Tonight, the ambiance carried a different weight. There was an intimacy in the air that made your cheeks flush, causing you to divert your gaze to the wooden floor.

"I'll just… uh, freshen up before bed," you stammered, trying to find an escape from the mounting tension.

"Sure," he said, pointing towards a door on the side. "Bathroom's right there. There's a pack of toothbrush heads in the cabinet; help yourself."

"Thanks," you replied with a grateful smile, seizing the opportunity to step out just as the sound of his belt buckle being opened reached your ears.

In the dimly lit bathroom, you sank to the edge of the tub, your hand pressing hard into the porcelain, feeling its cold, smooth surface beneath your fingertips.

Sharing a bed with Rafe wasn’t just a simple act of two people sleeping side-by-side. It symbolized a budding intimacy, a fragile trust slowly unfurling between the two of you. And yet, the weight of his weird phone call pressed heavily on your chest. Could you really trust someone whose life seemed tangled in webs of secrets, lurking just beneath the surface? Could you willingly let yourself be drawn into his world, knowing full well it could be dangerous?

Biting your lip, you pushed those turbulent thoughts to the back of your mind, you changed into the clothes he had lent you and brushed your teeth. After a lingering glance in the mirror, searching for some kind of assurance, and taking a deep, steadying breath, you braced yourself for the night ahead and headed back to the bedroom.

Rafe was already cozied up in bed, the soft light from his phone casting a glow on his face. He had changed into a pyjama pants his chest bare.

"I haven't even left the room for two minutes and you're already sliding into some girl's DMs?" you teased.

As Rafe met your gaze, warmth filled his eyes as he admired your appearance, clearly liking the way you looked in his clothes. “The only DMs I'd ever slide into are yours, but I've already got the real thing." he casually remarked, his voice carrying a hint of affection.

You couldn't help but laugh, your nose scrunching up at his comment. "Damn, that's some next-level cheesiness. You're quite the cheeseball, you know that?" you teased.

A mischievous twinkle sparkled in his eyes. "Only 'cause you're a sucker for cheesy romantic gestures. That shit gets you wet." he replied with a small smirk.

Mouth agape you looked at him flabbergasted only for Rafe to downright smile his pearly white teeth on full display.

“Rafe! You really can't go five minutes without turning something sweet into something, just--" You playfully tossed a pillow at him which he caught. Pulling you to him Rafe planted a quick kiss to your lips before heading to the bathroom.

With Rafe momentarily out of sight, you took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The reality of sharing a bed with him was nerve-wracking. Sliding beneath the soft covers, you felt the smooth sheets against your skin, their coolness momentarily providing a reprieve from the weight of your racing thoughts.

The bed, although large and spacious, suddenly felt like a confining space. Each moment of hesitation, every heartbeat, every fleeting memory of your past interactions echoed loudly in the silence of the room. Sharing a bed with someone was always an intimate act, but with Rafe, the stakes felt higher. It was more than just physical proximity; it was about letting him into the vulnerable spaces you had never shared with anyone including your heart.

As you laid there in the soft glow of his side lamp, you tried to focus on the present. You reminded yourself that Rafe said you'll take it slow. Tonight was about simply connecting, not necessarily about taking a step further.

The bathroom door opened, and you saw Rafe's silhouette framed by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He approached the bed, his movements careful, perhaps sensing your apprehension.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly.

You took a deep breath, "Yeah, just...thinking."

Rafe sat down beside you, his hand gently caressing your arm. "If you're not comfortable, we can figure something else out."

You shook your head, mustering a small smile. "No, it's not that. It's just as you said... It's all new. But I want to be here. With you."

Rafe leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Alright we'll take it one step at a time, yeah?"

With that assurance, you snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth and security of his embrace. "One step at a time" you repeated softly.

As your eyes flutter open, the silhouette before you takes shape, dominating your field of vision. Gradually, your gaze adjusts, revealing the familiar features of Rafe as you shake off the remnants of a deep dream. The surroundings come into focus bit by bit. The early hour is apparent; it's so early that the outside remains cloaked in darkness, illuminated by a luminous full moon.

You had drifted to sleep cradled in Rafe's embrace but now he's beside you. His touch is a gentle caress, his thumb tracing the smooth curve of your jaw. He regards you openly, his gaze intense enough to cause warmth to spread across your skin, prompting you to look away. You wondered how long he had been staring at you... touching you...

"What time is it?" Your voice is a soft murmur, barely breaking the tranquility of the moment.

"Four thirty"

"Can't sleep?" you asked softly.

Rafe shook his head no. "Can't sleep, either huh?" he asked his words tender.

You manage a small smile, "I think I'm just not used to sleeping in someone else's bed."

Rafe nodded in understanding. "Maybe I can help with that, hmm? It worked pretty well last time.” Gently Rafe turned your face towards him and leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. Your heart flutters as his kiss lingers, his tongue delicately exploring yours.

Sheets thrown back, your jersey inches upwards, as Rafe moves on top of you, his lips creating a scorching trail down your neck and further south. Each feather-light kiss ignites a tingle, intensifying as his tongue meets your nipple. His lips move lower, soft kisses meet your sternum while his fingers brush the edge of your shorts and underwear, prompting your hands to instinctively stop him.

"We won't go all the way," he promises in a voice thick with longing while lust blown eyes stare up at you. “I just want a taste. One little taste. I deserve it, for being patient.” His lips linger around your navel, and you grant him a hesitant nod. Gently, he removed your shorts and underwear, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

Despite your urge to shield yourself, Rafe, ever-so-gently, parts your legs, positioning himself in the intimate space between. His lips graze your hip, making your skin flutter. "Ever had a guy go down on you before?" His voice is an alluring mix of curiosity and yearning.

With a deep breath and a gentle shake of your head, you whispered “No”

Rafe smiles at your answer, his lips brushing your skin again. "So many firsts," he murmurs seductively.

His attention returns between your thighs, teasing and exploring, with soft kisses leading to your mound. His head drops lower and he slowly swipes his tongue over your clit. The sensation is a mix of ticklish delight and sinful pleasure prompting a soft gasp from your lips.

Rafe licks you slowly, teasingly, humming in approval with every wet swipe of his tongue. The swirl of his tongue between your folds begins to overwhelm you, and you try to pull away only for Rafe to firmly yank you back, his grasp keeping you anchored to him and your legs spread.

His tongue stops its gentle caressing and probes deeper, his lips nestling against your sex while his tongue hungrily delves within.

“Ooh—” you whimpered, tremors shooting throughout your body with each stroke of his tongue. His enthusiasm grows as he drinks in your reactions, his own moans blending with yours in a symphony of pleasure.

“Too much- too much- ah-” you squirm when his tongue began to flick at your clit.

Pulling away from your wet centre Rafe licked and sucked on your inner thigh. “No- you’re fine.” Rafe commanded, his determined gaze pinning you in place. “You’re fine. Just relax...”

He guides your hand to his buzzcut and as your fingers move hesitantly over his head, he returned to lapping skilfully at your pussy.

“Oh, my god, Rafe-" you whimper, your fingers scratching at his scalp as you buck underneath him.

Wrapping his arms around your legs, Rafe continued to lick your wet centre until you’re shuddering. He pulls his head back slightly. You could see his mouth shiny with your arousal, a smile curling his lips.

“Fuck, you taste sweet. Like honey.” his voice is like gravel, raw with pent desire. “Nah, sweeter than honey...” He muses. His fingers part your soaked pussy lips exposing your swollen clit and his tongue lovingly suckles it while his fingers tease around the entrance of your tight hole.

“Ohmygod, ohplease…"

"Yeah? This what you want? Want me to finger your sweet little cunt?” he chuckled teasingly.

"Please… please…” you beg, until finally he sinks his middle finger in you. You let out a cry as he slowly worked his finger back and forth within you, stoking your walls and coaxing your orgasm to the surface.

The feel of his tongue lashing at your clit, his finger twisting deliciously, along with the unrelenting focus of his gaze, hunger blazing in his eyes, has you moaning in abandon.

Your back involuntarily bows off the bed, a strangled cry leaving your lips as your fingers curled the back of his head.

It’s glorious when you cum.

A kaleidoscope of colour appears behind your closed eyes, created by the vibrations of Rafe groaning in approval and the succulent swirl of his lips and tongue.

Rafe removed his finger and his tongue quickly replaced it, delving deep into your creaming pussy. His nose pressed against your clit as he noisily slurped and lapped at you. The explicit, wet sounds of him devouring your pussy so raw and unashamed create a beautiful symphony that fills the room.

“Holy shit ha—“ you gasped with a smile. Sudden, swipes at your clit with his tongue had you oversensitive, your hips twitching with aftershocks.

Your eyes open, landing on Rafe still positioned between your thighs. With a tenderness that belies the moment's raw passion, he places soft wet kisses on your inner thighs, grounding you in the present. The weight of what has transpired gradually dawns on you – the unexpected progression from kissing to oral, something you hadn't anticipated, let alone think you'd enjoy as much as you did washes over you.

Before you can overthink, you lean in, initiating a passionate kiss, fueled by a desperate hunger intensified by the taste of yourself on his lips.

Rafe's fervor shows no signs of waning. He pushes you back against the pillows and then crawls over you, his desire unmistakable. Bracing himself near your head, he slowly lowers his pajama pants, causing your eyes to widen as you gaze downward.

He's big.

Big, long and thick.

Suddenly, his cockiness and confidence makes perfect sense. All that big dick energy. Naturally, you find yourself yearning to feel his raw power. Want to feel him thrusting inside you. Yet amidst this desire, a sudden thought emerges—a fear that you might not be able to handle all of him. You might not be able to please him fully when the time comes.

Rafe takes your hand in his, guiding it along his already weeping cock, and you feel him tense up and take a sharp breath as your fingers make contact. Encouraged by this reaction, your other hand wanders over his body, feeling the hardness of his abdomen. Both hands exploring him curiously, hesitantly.

"Like this…" he murmurs. With his hand over your own, holding his cock, Rafe sets a pace which brings forth soft moans from his lips. He moves his hand away to watch you carry on without him, completely entranced by the sight before him. The sight of you working his thick cock.

Clear pearls of pre-cum bead at the tip as an indication of how turned on he is by your touch. Rafe leans in to kiss you passionately while taking your hand once again and leading it up to his sensitive tip.

“Right. Here," he breathes into your mouth as he tells you to focus there. Your fingers instinctively curl tightly around the mushroom tip, fisting it as you become more confident, eliciting groans from Rafe's lips.

His hand moves from your fingers, finding its way to your throat. It curls around your neck in a possessive grip, while his lips reconnect with yours. His moans escalate in intensity, his desire palpable, and his voice becomes choppy. 'Keep going... keep going... just like that, baby. Just like that...."

Closely following his gestures and facial expressions. Your gaze remains fixated on his captivating face, magnetized by the range of emotions playing across it — the awe knitting in his brows, the quickening pace of his breath, and the roped corded muscles of his neck as his body became rigid.

"Fuck....” He releases a long sigh, color creeping up his chest, throat, and cheeks. “Long strokes- long strokes…” He commands his voice cracking. You obey, your hand stroking his length from root to tip. Your fingers glide easily, lubricated by his pre-cum.

Rafe's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he muttered something inaudible, but soon they found yours again.

"I want to fuck you so bad. I’m tryin to be patient. I’m tryin, but god I want to fuck you… I need to fuck you...” His voice trailed off into a desperate whimper, deep from the very core of him. His hips swayed to the rhythm of your hand as he fucked into it, each thrust quickening in pace.

"How?" you find yourself whispering in awe, astounded by the shift in power between you. You've heard him bark orders over the phone, full of confidence and dominance, yet here he was wrecked and vulnerable just from your touch. You would be lying if you said you didn't relish your newfound power. "How would you do it, Rafe? How would you fuck me?"

Rafe stared into your eyes, cock twitching in your grasp.

"I want to watch you ride my dick... watch you scream while you squirt all over it..." His confession hangs heavy in the air as he bares all before you.

"What else, Rafe? What else do you want?" you whisper, your fingers gently circling your clit while your other hand worked his cock.

"I wanna fuck your mouth. Want to fill your soft, pretty mouth with my cum. Watch you swallow it." His fingers softly brush against your lips, his middle and index finger pressed at its entrance. Entranced, you twirl your tongue around his digits before greedily sucking them into your mouth. Rafe utters a throaty groan before removing his fingers, his lips crashing onto yours in a crude kiss.

"What else?" you moaned, rubbing your clit and stroking his cock faster.

"Want to fuck your ass," he whispered through gritted teeth. "Have you on all fours - make you fucking take it.”

"Oh god, Rafe-" you whimpered, eyes wide with shock. You’ve never had a guy talk about doing sexual things to you let alone anything so vulgar. And yet- you could feel your orgasm on the brink of flooding your senses just from his words.

“I want to fuck and fill every part of you and I know you’ll let me. I just know you will…” Rafe repeated softly, confidently, "Do you know why? Hm? Why you'll take whatever I choose to give you? Why in the end you'll let me fuck you however I want?” He whispered his eyes boring into your own. “Because you're hungry for this just as much as I am. You want me. Just as much as I want you.”

His dark words sent you spiraling into a chaotic climax. Crying out in pleasure, waves of euphoria washed over you, causing your hips to involuntarily jerk and thrust up off the bed.

In harmony with your climax, Rafe reached his own. Droplets of his thick white cum painted your bare stomach and thighs. His body trembled with pleasure, his breathing stuttered, while his throbbing cock continued to pulse in your grasp.

His moans, raw and desperate, are tinged with a clear sense of relief. It's the relief that comes from finally having his pleasure reciprocated by you, even if only through the gentle touch of your hands, and the utter bliss that this brings.

Breathless Rafe collapses back against the pillows, his hand trembling with pleasure found yours once more, and together you slowed the rhythm of your stroking, savouring the final drops of cum from his spent cock.

Exhausted but utterly content, Rafe closes his eyes for a moment. When they open again, his dilated blue pupils are fixated on you. He cracks a satisfied grin.

He doesn't take his gaze away as you observe your hand. It's covered in his cum, an indicator of his pent up desire for you. Without uttering a word, your hand moves towards your lips, and curiously, your tongue tentatively darts out, brushing against your fingertips.

The taste is unlike anything you've ever experienced before, earthy and slightly salty and yet uniquely him. You moan as your tongue continues its exploration, carefully cleaning each digit.

"Fuckkk..." Rafe groans before pulling you in for a desperate kiss.

The gentle morning light filtered through the curtains, illuminating your face and the figure beside you in a soft, dappled glow. But the tranquility was abruptly interrupted by a glance at the time on your phone.

You were late.

Terribly late.

For someone who valued being on time, the day was already spiraling out of control. Scrambling into your jeans, you noticed Rafe stirring, his sleepy eyes meeting the clock, then your frenzied actions. Silently, with a steadiness you envied, he started dressing.

Your vest and cardigan from the previous night lay draped over a chair. Snatching them up, you slipped them on in a rush.

Rafe's offer to drive you to class was a godsend. Ten minutes later, freshened up and emerging from his bedroom, you expressed your gratitude with a beaming smile. As you walked past him, Rafe playfully swatted your butt, eyes twinkling with mischief. You let out a playful yelp, your laughter blending with his soft chuckle as you admonished him, promising to get him back later.

At your house, you grabbed your bag, textbook and notes in a flurry. You considered changing outfits but ditched the idea after another anxious glance at the time. It was only a two-hour class anyway and wasn’t worth the additional stress.  As you darted to his truck, a realization hit – your dad was coming home today. Another night at Rafe's was certainly out of the question. 

During the drive, you explained the situation to Rafe, expecting, perhaps even bracing for, a hint of disappointment. But instead, he simply nodded. Now, as the silence stretched between you, you were wrestling with the idea of revisiting the words he'd uttered last night. But decided it wasn't worth mentioning. They were merely fantasies after all—desperate things said in the heat of the moment, just to intensify the experience... Right?

As he pulled up in front of your building he leaned in to kiss you. You cut it short with an apologetic smile promising to call him later.

No sooner had you settled into your seat in class did your phone vibrate. It was a message from Rafe.

"Friend's having a party tomorrow night. Think your dad would be cool with it?"

A pause ensued as you deliberated, finally responding. "Should be. But I don't have anything to wear. Is it a bonfire type of thing?"

His reply was swift. "Don't worry about it. Shopping later. My treat."

A surge of conflicting emotions threatened to spill over as you absorbed his words, your fingers quivering slightly over the screen. "Rafe that's too generous. I can't."

But his resolution was clear even in text. "Why? You're with me. Right?"

You paused, chewing on your lip. It wasn’t lost on you what his words meant. What they implied. "Yes. But are you sure?"

He sent back a single word, filled with resolve: "Always."

—————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it. Thanks for liking, commenting and reblogging. 🧡🧡🧡 Part 4 coming soon

MASTERLIST

[stuckonmain]

2012 Raph x reader Incorrect Quotes

Uhm...mostly, that is. There's a few that are just random TMNT 2012 incorrect quotes. This was very fun for me. Might do it again sometime if the mood strikes.

***

(Y/N), skipping rocks on a lake with Raph: It’s such a beautiful evening.

Raph: Yeah, it is.

Raph: *whispering* Take that you fucking lake.

***

(Y/N): Why does Leo always do the laundry so loudly?

Raph: So everyone knows that no one helps them out in the house.

Leo, in the distance: *slams the washing machine shut*

***

Raph: You’re giving me a sticker?

Mikey: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”

Raph: I’m not a preschooler.

Mikey: Fine, I’ll take it back-

Raph: I earned this, back off.

***

Raph: Why am I always the bad guy?

(Y/N): Well, why am I the pretty one? We all have our thing.

***

(Y/N): Is Raph always like this when they lose?

Mikey: Oh, yes. You should've been there for the fabled 'Great Jenga Tantrum'.

Raph: yOU BUMPED THAT TABLE AND YOU KNOW IT!

***

(Y/N): Hey, wanna help me commit arson?

Leo: What the hell!?

(Y/N): Oh, sorry, my bad.

(Y/N), whispering: Wanna help me commit arson?

Leo, whispering: Of course. What do you need?

***

Casey: You know what bothers me? Bats. Why can bats fly?

Raph: Not again...

Casey: No. Seriously, who gave them the right? They're mammals! Mammals walk on land, no exceptions.

(Y/N): Just wait until you hear about whales.

Casey: What now?

***

Casey on Monday: *glues a dime to the sidewalk* Heh heh heh.

Casey on Wednesday: *walking down the street* Ooh hey! A dime!

***

(Y/N): When I met you I thought you were a real bitch.

Raph: What changed your mind?

(Y/N): Oh, I still think you’re a bitch, I’ve just grown to like that about you.

***

Leo: When I said you should try being friendlier this isn't what I meant.

Raph, stirring a cup of tea aggressively: Oh, so now I'm TOO friendly? There's no pleasing you.

(Y/N), who broke into their house an hour ago: Two sugars please.

Raph: Coming right up.

***

Casey: It’s funny how well you and Raph get along. Didn’t they hate you at first?

(Y/N): Raph hates everybody at first. It’s their way of reaching out to people.

***

Casey: We can bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute.

Donnie: No, that's not how you make cookies.

(Y/N): FLOOR IT!!

Casey: How about 4,000,000 degrees for 1 second?!?

Donnie: yOU'RE GONNA BURN THE HOUSE DOWN-

Casey: I'M GONNA HARNESS THE POWER OF THE FUCKING SUN TO MAKE COOKIES!

Raph: DO IT!

Donnie: NO-

***

Raph: What the fuck? People actually tell their crushes they like them??

(Y/N): What the hell do you do?

Raph: I die? What kinda question…

***

(Y/N): I made this friendship bracelet for you.

Raph: You know, I’m not really a jewelry person.

(Y/N): You don’t have to wear…

Raph: No, I’m gonna wear it forever. Back off.

***

Raph: *sneaking in through their window*

Leo: *turning in their chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Raph: I was with (Y/N)?

(Y/N): *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

***

Raph, at (Y/N)'s funeral: I need a moment with them.

Everyone: Of course. *They leave*

Raph, leaning over (Y/N)′s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead.

(Y/N): Yeah, no shit.

***

Raph: (Y/N), I don't like you.

(Y/N): What did you say?

Raph: You heard me!

(Y/N), internally: And it turns out I actually didn't hear what the fuck you just said.

***

*(Y/N) sneezes*

Raph: (Y/N), are you sick? Here, let me wrap you in a blanket and hand-feed you some warm soup while singing you a lullaby!

*Donnie sneezes*

Raph: Oh my god. Shut the hell up.

***

(Y/N): Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time?

Raph: ...So...as enemies??

(Y/N):

***

Raph: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO-

(Y/N): It was me...

Raph: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.

***

Kidnapper: I have your partner.

(Y/N): What? I don't have a partner...

Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife bitch and spit in my face?

(Y/N): Oh my god, you have Raph.

***

Raph: I want to kiss you.

(Y/N), not paying attention: What?

Raph: I said if you die, I won't miss you.

***

*(Y/N) is crying after a breakup*

Raph: There there, (Y/N).

(Y/N), still crying: Thanks, but how did you get into my room?

Raph: Great question—

***

Raph: *yawns*

(Y/N): Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Raph: Then you must be exhausted.

Leo: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely.

***

Raph: Watcha doin?

(Y/N): Stealing my neighbour’s cat.

Raph: Scandalous.

Raph: Can I help?

***

(Y/N): Come on, Leo. Nobody actually believes that Raph is in love with me.

Leo, to The Squad: Raise your hand if you think that Raph is helplessly in love with (Y/N).

*Everyone raises their hand*

(Y/N): Raph, put your hand down.

***

(Y/N): Someone take me to art museums and make out with me.

Raph: But they said not to touch the masterpieces.

(Y/N): Well somebody's got to pin the artwork to the wall.

Leo, on a walkie talkie: This is Leo, those idiots are fucking around in the East wing again.

***

Mikey: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room.

Raph: Screw that, I’m not kissing anyone.

*(Y/N) walks in*

Raph: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

***

Raph: If you want my advice-

Donnie: No offense but you’re the last person I want relationship advice from. You tried to kill your significant other. Multiple times.

Raph: First off, that was before we started dating. Secondly, they’ve also tried to kill me.

(Y/N): It’s true. It was mutually attempted murder.

***

Casey: Time sensitive question how flirt boy.

Raph: Throw rocks at he.

Mikey: Hot Dogs.

(Y/N): Kill him.

Casey: Thanks guys.

***

Leo: Why do you look like that?

Raph, laying face-first on the floor: Like what?

Leo: Like you’re dead.

Raph: It’s because I’m dying. Fuck off.

Casey: Raph accidentally called (Y/N) “babe” in front of everyone today.

Raph: *sobs into the floor*

***

(Y/N): I'm so happy, I could kiss you!

Raph: Um...Neat.

*later*

Raph, lying face down on their bed: I said "Neat," Donnie. Who the fuck says neat these days? 

It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid.

Donnie, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Raph. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Casey confessed their love for me?

Raph: Didn't you thank them?

Donnie: *closes the book and looks at the ceiling* I fucking thanked them.

***

(Y/N): How would you like your coffee?

Raph: As dark as my soul.

(Y/N): Got it, one cup of milk coming right up!

***

(Y/N): Raph, I need some advice.

Raph: You need advice from ME?

(Y/N): Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

***

(Y/N): *sighs* I have no friends...

Raph:

Raph: *coughs* Bitch, what am I? A roach?!

***

Leo: You need to stop swearing so much.

Raph: Shut the fuck up.

Leo: Yeah, that's not how you do it.

Raph: Alright sorry. It's just that it's hard not to swear. The words just creep up on me when I least expect it.

Leo: Now now, don't be like that. Just replace the swear words with 'beep' and you'll be fine.

Raph: Shit the beep up.

Leo:

Raph: SHUT, DAMMIT! I MEANT SHUT!

***

Raph: *is throwing stones at (Y/N)'s window*

(Y/N): You have a phone for a reason, Raph!

*THUD*

(Y/N): DID YOU JUST THROW YOUR PHONE AT MY WINDOW?!

[hannahssimblr]

I’m running again. It is the hottest day of the year, with the sun blazing down on me, but I’m running anyway, because this is what I do. It's become the pattern of my life. I sleep like shit. I get up, I run, I shower, and then I sleep the afternoon away. 

This morning at six, I talked to Alison. She was in the airport, crying in a bathroom stall. 

“It’s so weird that literally nobody knows I’m here,” she said. “The last time I left the country was for our school tour to Rome, can you imagine? That now I’m doing this?”

“You’re going to be okay,” I said, though I didn’t really know it to be true. How could I? Who am I to even say that to her, as if I could ever be sure? As if I am a person capable of making anything okay. I think that all I ever did was fail her, and she is alone and scared today, so I am failing her again. 

“I would have come with you,” I told her, in a voice that sounded weak and pathetic to my own ears. 

“I didn’t think I wanted you to, but now I do,” her sob echoed off the bathroom tiles. “Now that I’m here, I don’t want to be on my own anymore.”

“I can still come,” I said, but it was a lie. It was too late. I suppose that’s always been the nature of our relationship. I’ve acted too late, and reached her when the damage has already been done. 

For the rest of my life, I’ll think of Alison and feel regret. Her face and that feeling, intertwined forever. 

When we hung up, I stared out at the sea for a long time, the gentle pull of the tide, felt the heat of the sun that poured in the window that reminded me I was real and alive, then I put on my shoes and went for a run. 

It’s a day for swimming, not for running. The sea is still and glasslike today, clear turquoise and gently washing over the shore, as seagulls draw lazy circles overhead. I will swim, just not now, not while there are still heavy thoughts in my head. 

It seems I am the only person in town stupid enough to run on a day like this. I know sunbathers are watching me as I go, and I catch snippets of their incredulous remarks. “What is he at?” someone mutters to his friend. “He’ll be dead before he gets to the end of the beach, I’d say.”

I might be. Within minutes, my t-shirt clings to my body and sweat from my hair dribbles into my eyes. It stings. I wipe my brow with my arm, which is salty with sweat and unhelpful, so I commit to partial blindness for the rest of the run, kept on track by the slash of shore to my right. 

The beach is a blur of colour. Towels scatter the sand, and the vague suggestion of parasols jut above the masses of flesh coloured blobs, but the shape of her is unmistakable. She’s coming in my direction with her phone to her ear, ambling along the strip of damp sand the tide washed earlier. I can’t hear what she’s saying. There’s too much noise, but she hangs up abruptly as soon as I reach her. 

“Hi, Evie!” I wipe my brow again and act casual about my atrocious sweat patches. 

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know it was you.”

“Just out for a walk?”

“Yeah, enjoying the sun.”

“Same here. Hot, isn’t it? Sorry, I’m so sweaty.” Perhaps drawing direct attention to it will lessen the awkwardness, but then again, maybe it will make it all worse. What if, somehow, she hadn’t noticed until I pointed it out? 

She smiles sweetly. “I suppose that’s what happens when you go running in a heatwave.”

“I know. There’s no escaping it, though. It’s just been hot all the time lately.” I glance toward the sea. “At least I can swim after it. The water looks so nice.”

“Yeah, it’s lovely. I’ve been getting in three times a day.”

I smirk at her. I should ask her if this is some kind of competition, or if she just likes to brag about all the swims she takes. It would be funny, but now I think I’ve left it too long, and saying it now, after such a long pause, would make it seem like I have thought too much about it. I think I actually have thought too much about it. I look down at my feet, and a bead of sweat darkens the sand in front of me. 

“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t… I didn’t, um, text you after that night we went to the graveyard.”

A smile. “Oh, no, well, I didn’t expect you to, like I wasn’t waiting for a message or anything. It’s fine.”

“I know. I just said that I would when I was free and I didn’t. I’ve been kind of distracted the last couple of weeks.”

“It’s okay, I understand! I get like that sometimes, too.”

“I just have a bad habit of saying I’ll do something and then not doing it, like, I’m a flake. I hope you weren’t waiting to hear from me.”

She tosses her air over her shoulder and laughs breezily. “No way. I didn’t notice. Don’t worry, I honestly do that all the time. Things just get in the way.”

I am desperate to get out of my sweaty clothes. The sea calls to me like a siren. “Well, if you want, we can hang out now. Are you busy today?”

“No, I’m free.”

“Okay, well, do you feel like a swim?”

 She frowns. “Right now?” 

“Why not? Yeah.”

“Oh, well, I don’t have my togs with me at the moment.”

“Me neither. I was going to go in naked.”

She blushes. “Wha- oh, um, really?” 

Bad joke. Maybe I should put more considered practice into shutting up. “No.” I pinch the hem of my polyester shorts. “I’ll just wear these. They kind of double up as running shorts. Look, you don’t have to if you don’t have anything to swim in. I just thought I’d ask. Maybe we can hang out later if you don’t have-”

“No!” She cuts me off in such a frenzy that I blink, surprised. “Just give me a sec. I’ll run up to the mobile and grab my togs, just… just wait here.”

Without giving me a second to respond, she sprints up the beach, sand flying behind her in cartoonish clouds. I watch her go all the way to the end of the beach, where the tiny figure of her scrambles up the side of a steep dune and leaps over a fence, gone from sight within seconds. 

I wait for her by the shore, my body too tired to do anything but sit and pick handfuls of sand from the ground. I could just get into the sea and swim now, but going in without her feels like a betrayal. She might want to do something competitive and race me anyway, and I might like to let her. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

[applejuicefruit]

can you make erling taking care of reader where she’s sick please? i love you thank you

erling haaland x reader

Sick days

The moment you woke up you felt like your head was about to explode. You felt cold and shivering but you thought that maybe it was because it snowed last night in Manchester. You never get sick so why would it be different now? Except for when you tried to stand and walk yourself to the bathroom you felt your legs almost giving up on you.

“Shit…” you whispered laying again on the bed.

Erling, your boyfriend was currently out jogging, although it was his free day, he couldn’t stay in bed for more than six hours, you knew he needed to do something productive in the morning so you weren’t surprised when you didn’t see him laying next to you when you woke up.

You tried to fall asleep once again even if your whole body was shaking and freezing. You woke up when you heard the shower running, sign that Erling was back home from his morning run.

When you opened your eyes you were met with an incredible natural light coming from your windows. If you weren’t sick you would have loved waking up with such a beautiful day but all you wanted to do was laying under your covers and fade away.

You slightly groaned when you saw all that light engulfing your bedroom.

“Good morning love” Erling said coming out of the bathroom, freshly washed, wearing only a t-shirt and some shorts.

“Mh…” you responded.

“Are you okay baby?” he approached you gently while sitting on the bed next to you.

“No…” you looked at him in the eyes and he saw how glossy they were. His hand gently caressed your cheek and he felt how hot you were.

“Honey…I think you have fever…do you want me to get anything?” he asked a bit worried.

“No, I’m just cold…” you whispered while closing your eyes again because you couldn’t stand the light.

“I’ll be right there in a minute” he said before leaving the bedroom. He went to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea and then he looked for some painkillers, as he hated seeing you in pain.

He came back in the room and he carefully gave you the hot tea while he put the medicine on your nightstand. Before coming back in bed with you he closed the blinds so all the light wouldn’t hurt your eyes.

“Drink it baby…it will be good for you throat and for your fever” he said while sitting on the bed next to you.

“Don’t come closer or you’ll get sick Erling” you warned him but he didn’t care as he scooped you into his lap, trying to keeping you warm with his huge body.

“Shut up and drink” he joked and you cracked a laugh that came out more as a cough “careful baby…” he warned you.

Once you finished drinking your tea you took the painkillers hoping your headache would pass as soon as possible and you laid over his chest.

“I hate being sick…” you whispered.

“I know…I don’t think I never met someone who likes being sick…” he joked and you smiled “but I love taking care of you when you’re sick…your like a big baby” he joked again but this time you scoffed, giving him a death look but due to the burning in your eyes it looked more like a puppy look and he smiled at you.

“You’re too cute baby” he babied you, something that you always hated but right now you didn’t mind all the attentions he was giving you.

“I love how you’re always here for me Erling…” you whispered into his neck and he kissed your cheek.

“I will always be here for you my love” he wrapped his arms around your body and kept you closer “I think you should sleep a bit and wait for the fever to go down darling” he covered you a bit more with your fluffy blanket as you drifted off to sleep, hoping to dream about you and Erling.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Wildest dreams, pt. 26

Summary: Y/N and Paul come to lunch at the Cullen’s house. 

Warnings: angst, fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing, talking about death

Wildest Dreams Masterlist

————————————

Parking in front of the Cullen’s house, Y/N gulps at the sight. The house is three stories tall with a wraparound porch, and large windows reflecting the sunlight. It’s a mansion compared to the houses in La Push; a very well-kept, modern mansion.

“We should probably go”, Paul’s the first one to speak. “They’re likely wondering why we’re sitting here and just staring at the house.”

“You think they’re watching us?”

“And listening”, Paul states before continuing with a smile. “So I want Rosalie to know that I come in peace and to not put any glass into my salad.”

Y/N raises her brows. “Huh?”

“She broke a glass bowl filled with salad when Bella first came to meet the family.”

“By accident?” Y/N asks with a slight frown but her eyes were reflecting the confusion while attempting to hide an inkling of panic her heart rate is betraying.

“Jacob said Bella came over AFTER eating a full course meal, unaware the Cullens spent all day prepping a lunch for her.”

“Is that why you didn’t let me eat anything today?!”

Shrugging, Paul smirks. “Just making sure we don’t have a repeat.”

With a wry smile, Y/N nods before taking a deep breath. 

‘How bad can they be?’ She thought. ‘They don’t feed on humans, only on Bambi. Don’t think about that! Ughhh, now I won’t be able to stop thinking about dead deer moms!’

Walking out, she huffs as Paul steps beside her, offering his hand for her to take. His grin isn’t helping ease her nerves either. When she came to him with news of the brunch invite, she didn’t expect him to accept. In fact, Y/N hoped he’d fight her on it until they both eventually agreed on a polite note declining the invitation. 

“Yes”, Paul answers almost instantly, eagerly even. 

“Yes?”

“Mhmm”, he spits out the toothpaste foam, opening the faucet. “Did you expect a different answer or something?” 

Snorting, she shakes her head slowly. “No?”

Washing off the remains of toothpaste from the sink, Paul closes the tap and wipes his mouth with a towel. “Is that a yes or a no?” Flashing his freshly cleaned pearly whites, Paul raises his brows at the way her heart skipped a beat from such a simple, everyday thing. It’s an ego boost to have her heart’s confirmation she truly does love him.

Frowning, she pouts. “I don’t understand. I thought you didn’t like the Cullens?” 

Heading back to the bedroom, Paul runs his fingers through his damp hair. “No. Not really. Their smell is a bit difficult to stand, but we’re good.”

“Since when?!”

“Since the almost battle that never happened”, Paul reminds her.

Swallowing thickly, Y/N sits on the bed, giving Paul a quick look over before setting her gaze back on his shit-eating grin. He knows exactly what he’s doing to her and he’s reveling in it.

“You mean the almost battle in which one of the Cullens said you’d have died? That one?”

Paul’s smile disappears as he nods curtly. “But it didn’t happen and I’m here.”

“Yes, but it makes me anxious, okay? You being around them, especially if the Volturi are setting their sights on them again…just feels dangerous.”

“For you”, Paul reminds her. “I’m not the one we have to worry about.”

“So why are we accepting this invite?”

Sighing, Paul kneels before her, his hands resting on her thighs firmly. “Because if there’s a shit-storm coming our way, it will come with or without their presence. This way we have a powerful ally that can help.”

“Or they’re the catalyst of everything you’ve been so terrified of”, she argues.

“Our lands have always drawn the supernatural. If it’s not them, something else would be a catalyst and I feel safer knowing they’re closer to us.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, she bites her lower lip. “Because if I do get mortally wounded, they’d be there to turn me into one of their own?”

“I didn’t say that”, Paul states firmly. 

“I already told you I don’t want to be a vampire”, Y/N presses her lips in a thin line. 

“And I didn’t say I’d do anything to disrespect your wishes.”

“I can see it in your eyes, Paul. I might not be able to listen to your heartbeat or sense your pheromones or whatever you do to figure me out, but your eyes are incapable of lying.” Rubbing her nose, she looks away. There’s a lump building at the back of her throat and she feels like she’s losing her mind, but she can’t stop thinking turning her into a vampire would be the worst idea Paul’s ever had. 

But Paul doesn’t want to lose her. He doesn’t want to wake up without her by his side nor go to bed knowing she’s not following soon behind. He needs more time, a lifetime. How can she hear him cry when he dreams of her death and not choose to do anything to prevent inflicting that pain on him? 

“Alright, I was considering it,” Paul admits, shamefully lowering his gaze as she turns her eyes onto him once more. “I don’t want to do something you’re against, but I am begging you to at least not be so definitive about it.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you”, she whimpers. “But every cell in my body is quivering with the mere thought of agreeing to it.”

“At least think about it? Ask Bella and the rest of them about how it was for them and then make a choice. I’ll respect it, but only if you do this for me. Please do this for me”, Paul begs, his eyes brimming with tears, crumbling to pieces in front of her and she can’t ignore it.

“Ok”, she swallows the lump at the back of her throat but a new one forms, quickly replacing it.

“OK?”

Nodding, she manages a meek smile for his benefit. “We can go and I’ll talk to them and I won’t hastily disagree anymore.”

Walking across the porch to the front door, Y/N grips Paul’s hand tighter. She doesn’t get a chance to knock as the door swings open and Jacob’s grin meets her. 

“Thought you’d turn around and run”, he cackles before stealing Y/N away from Paul.

Wide-eyed she looks to her imprint as Jacob’s arms wrap around her, half hugging and half carrying her into the house.

Once her feet find the ground once again, she turns around only to find a group of deathly pale people staring at her intently. They’re smiling, but despite the alluring tone their welcoming smiles are meant to set, it sends chills down Y/N’s spine.

Intimidating isn't the right word for how she'd describe the sight before her. While Renesmee possesses an inhuman beauty, it cannot compare to the rest of her family. She only ever saw Edward in passing, once, and that was enough to suspect him of being a genetically engineered specimen, now she knows the truth to be far more sinister. 

Frightening is a better term to use, like standing in front of art come to life, as if the greatest of ancient sculptures have gained consciousness and a thirst for blood.

'They drink animal blood', Y/N reminds herself. 'But nothing stops them from changing their mind at any moment. I certainly can't and Paul would die trying.'

Noticing Edward's eyebrows furrow, she purses her lips. 

'You're the mind reader', she nods curtly. He returns the gesture with a slight smile. 

"Welcome", a petite woman with caramel brown hair and a kind smile greets them, gently shaking Y/N’s hand moments after peeling away from the handsome, very tall blond-haired man standing in the front of the group. 

Gulping, Y/N feels her heart skip a beat with the sudden movement and cold touch. It’s like shaking hands with marble floors, yet the woman’s smile is warmer than her touch. Despite it, Y/N can’t help the way her entire body tenses up, clenching her jaw to stop her lips from trembling in fear.

“I think we should give our guest time to adjust”, the man places his hand on the kind woman’s shoulder and she steps back. 

Esme and Carlisle from what Y/N can remember. No one showed her photos, but Jacob and Paul had an abundance of choice words describing the family to prepare her…Well, they did a shit job. No one prepared her for how stuffy the air is nor how all of her primal instincts are screaming at her to run and hide, indicating danger.

‘Carlisle is a doctor too and Paul said he’s a good man’, she notes as she feels a wave of calm wash over her. Furrowing her brows, she glances at Paul. “I feel weird”, she says quietly, forgetting everyone else can hear her. 

“That’s probably Jasper”, Bella smirks as she looks toward the guy on her left. He’s tall, as well, probably a foot taller than Y/N and his honey-blond hair is longer, neatly pulled back to fully reveal his pale face. Somehow his golden eyes are lighter, and more prominent than others, reminding her of honey in the sunshine. “He can manipulate emotions”, Bella explains.

Pursing her lips, Y/N nods. “Do you do that on purpose or is it like a reflex where certain emotions violently affect you and you’re forced to react to ease it for your own sanity?”

Raising his brows, Jasper’s lopsided smile lights up his face. He’s probably the most handsome of them all when he smiles, Y/N decides while thanking God Paul can’t read her mind. 

“Both, I suppose,” Jasper answers, his voice laced with a subtle Southern accent. “I can stop”, he offers sweetly.

“I actually appreciate it”, Y/N smiles lightly. “Truth be told I’m nervous as hell and perhaps scared to a degree. I’ve gotten used to fur and claws, but this is a whole other thing.”

“I felt the same way”, Jacob reassures her. “But you’re safe here.”

“The only one who didn’t feel that way is Bella, but she’s always been a little out there”, the large man with a Barbie on his arm snickers before giving Y/N a playful wave. “We get it...Just don’t bleed in the house and you’ll probably walk away with a full belly and no incidents.”

“Emmett!” Bella warns, her eyes narrowing at the burly man who simply shrugs before smiling at Y/N, showing his dimples.

‘How does a vampire even have dimples?!’

“I’m being honest, which I’m sure you prefer.” Giving Y/N a pointed look, his smile widens.

Nodding once, Y/N blinks fast. Biting her lip, she looks at Jasper. “I might need to stay closer to you today. Is there a perimeter in which you operate or can you manipulate emotions anywhere in the house?”

Barking out a laugh, Emmett places a hand over his chest. “She thinks you’re an emotional Wi-Fi router!”

Blush adorns Y/N’s cheeks as embarrassment floods her senses only to find it dispersed as quickly as Emmett caused it. “Thank you”, she mouths to Jasper before looking at the only two she hasn’t spoken to.

“You’re Rosalie”, Y/N focuses on the astonishing woman by Emmett. Her wavy blonde hair is fixed up in a bun, revealing her long, elegant neck and her golden eyes are slightly darker than the rest of the family, making Y/N slightly more nervous. 

“And you’re Y/N”, Rosalie forces a smile. “Who hasn’t eaten all day, right?” Raising her perfectly arched eyebrows, Rosalie glances at Paul who nods eagerly.

“As promised, she had nothing to eat. Not even breakfast.” Paul grins, resting his hands on Y/N’s shoulders for support. He’s aware she’s probably freaking out now, but his best chance at convincing her to stay is to let the Cullens do what they do best: schmooze her into loving them as they did with most of the pack. 

Finally, Y/N redirects her gaze to the only one of the bunch who she can feel taller than. “Alice, I presume”, she says with a cautious smile as the vampire’s big eyes widen in excitement. 

“You’d be right”, Alice heads toward her but pauses when Y/N releases a quiet, barely audible gasp. “Sorry, I forgot to slow down”, she giggles. “I do that sometimes, but I’m harmless. Just ask Bella!”

Making eye contact with Bella who chuckles, Y/N sighs. “Friend shaped...got it!” Leaning into Paul, Y/N licks her lips wondering if she should ask outright or wait till they’ve eaten. “So, you can see the future, huh?”

‘Patience was never my stronger suit.’

“Versions of the future”, Alice confirms. “It’s always changing as every decision made affects the outcome.”

Swallowing thickly, Y/N looks up over her shoulder to find Paul’s closed his eyes. He’s afraid. No matter what Alice says or what Y/N agrees to, he’s deathly afraid of the future and it pains her to see him so defeated. A man so brave is now brought to his knees and she can’t figure out how to tell him that turning her into a vampire will bring them no good. Isn’t it better to remember her fondly when she’s gone than to watch her become a bloodthirsty creature who won’t yearn for him or enjoy his presence? She won’t be who she was anymore, she won’t be the woman he loves now.

“I’d like to talk more about it once we eat the delicious food you guys prepared.” Y/N forces a somewhat genuine smile, deciding it would be better if Paul isn’t present when she speaks to Alice or any of them. “It smells like heaven and I’m famished thanks to Paul.”

Snorting, Paul pecks her temple. “You love me anyway.”

Cupping his cheek, Y/N’s smile softens. “It’s a burden I have to carry”, she remarks before walking toward Esme.

Esme lights up as she realizes Y/N’s already warming up to her, seeing her as less of a danger. 

“I’m sorry for my apprehension and I would like to thank you and Carlisle for having us over.”

“It’s our pleasure.” Esme gestures toward the kitchen, “We prepared a lot of food. Jacob usually eats most of it, so we had to account for two wolves today.”

Chuckling, Y/N nods, allowing Esme to lead her inside. “It’s such a hassle, I agree. No matter how much food I bring into the house, it’s all gone by the next day! I’m going bankrupt feeding Paul!”

While Y/N walked inside with a much more relaxed and positive attitude, Paul remained in the hall. Jacob and Edward hang back with him, watching as everyone poured into the kitchen to help set up the table. 

“What’s the situation”, Paul asks Edward.

“She’s having a hard time accepting all of this”, he replies. “Y/N strongly believes it would be a mistake if she turns.”

“Can you get more specific?” Jacob raises his brows. “If Paul’s to find a way to convince her, we need specifics.”

“Are you sure you want that to happen”, Edward asks quietly. “This won’t be like Bella. If anything, she might be more of a Jasper.”

“Why would you think that?” Paul frowns.

“Anxiety and depression lurking in her mind make her less emotionally stable, it could make her prone to a lot more mistakes when she turns,” Edward explains.

Paul shakes his head vehemently. “Didn’t you say being a vampire heals everything?”

“Sometimes a fractured mind is just that, a fractured mind”, Edward glances at Y/N carrying a few napkins. “She worries she won’t be the same. That she’ll be lost in her thirst for blood and that if she dies your imprint bond would break.”

“Even if it breaks, I’d still fucking love her”, Paul retorts quickly. “I loved her before the bond, I know I’d love her even if it broke.”

“But would she love you?”

Edward’s question brings chills down Paul’s spine. Truth is, he can’t be certain. She says she cared for him before the imprinting, but most of what he got from her was hate. All his life he believed Y/N Y/L/N hates his guts and would sell him out for a light breeze on a sunny day. Never before had it actually occurred to Paul that maybe the feelings Y/N has for him twisted her memories and feelings in a way that would bind her to him. She might believe she loved him before, but all those confessions came in conversations after imprinting. 

His love for Y/N has always been real, but he can’t be sure it’s the same for her.

Can he risk that?

Will he put their love to the test?

Yes.

Because even if he doesn’t like the answer, at least she’ll be alive. Y/N will have a chance to find happiness without Paul in the picture. And he’ll watch, cheer for her if necessary. He can’t be selfish with his heart – with his Y/N. 

“I just want her to live”, Paul sighs. “Nothing else matters to me.”

“Paul”, Jacob starts but one look from Paul shuts him up.

“We have to convince her or she’ll die and we will spend whatever time we have left wondering if we did enough to save her life. I can’t live like that. Can you?”

_______________________

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A/N: if anyone wants to be added or taken off the tags, leave a comment or send an ask. Make sure your blog visibility settings are on and that your blog hasn’t been flagged (blurry pfp is usually your clue that you have been flagged) as those are most common reasons why tumblr won’t let you be tagged. Also keep in mind changing your @ might mean you lose your tag since I can’t track everyone down when that happens. Other than that, hope you enjoy the series and I want to thank you all for being patient. I’ve definitely taken a lot of time off between the chapters due to life interfering. Hopefully I won’t need this much time to write the next one xD. 

PART 27

[likeabulldigidigibombombombom]

Open Window (Part 1)

Pairing: (non threatening) thief!Hyunjin x fem!reader 

Trope/Genre: Non idol au, fluff

Summary: You’re nearing the end of your gap year, and you decided to spend your last month of it at your aunts house. Unfortunately, a very stupid criminal has struck your house many times and you need to figure out who they are and why they did it.

854 words 

Warnings: Hyunjin LITERALLY ROBS YOU. DO NOT DO WHAT Y/N DOES SHE IS A DUMBASS. Usage of pet names, swearing. 

Lee know is mentioned

You were so bored. So extremely bored. You had completed your third walk around the block, which you normally would be too tired to do, but you had to do something that didn’t include death-scrolling on your phone and making small talk with your aunt. 

You thought that taking a gap year would include traveling and spending time with your close friends, but it was really just a whole lot of nothing. 

When you were preparing to unlock the door to get into the home that you were staying at for a month, you noticed the weird gnome on your doorstep was missing. ‘Eh, whatever’ you thought to yourself. The next day, while going on another walk around the block, half of the garden decorations were gone. You just brushed it off, because who the fuck would steal garden decorations. 

A few hours later, you had gotten ready for bed because ‘if you can’t entertain yourself it's better to just sleep’ you thought, but you had left the window open. It was extremely hot and you were lying on top of your bed sheets, trying to get to sleep when you heard a noise. You looked up to see a person, halfway inside of your room. 

As soon as you realised what was going on, your hand flung to your bedside table to turn the light on. But the shadow of a man was gone. Thinking it was just a dream, you slept peacefully.

“Did you hear anything last night Y/N?” your aunt asked, while washing dishes by the sink. “No, I don’t think so. I think I went to sleep immediately after getting upstairs.” “Oh, I must have been imagining things then.”

The nights were uneventful for a while, until you slept with your window open again. 

Tossing and turning, you couldn’t sleep. It was around 3 am when you heard a noise again. This time, you were sceptical and terrified. The fear was so intense that you felt like you couldn’t move your hand to turn on the light. 

“Who are you?” You said. It came out quieter than intended, but it was audible. “Uh, a ghost. This is all a dream.” You could see a silhouette of a man wiggling strangely and you couldn’t help but laugh. He looked about 5’11 and his voice was strangely attractive. 

“Okay, what the fuck is going on? Because I’m weirded out at this point.” He shrugged. “Yeah, that’s fair enough.” You could hear someone take a deep breath and then blurt out. “I’m robbing you.” “Sorry, what?” “I’m robbing you, well, attempting to.” 

Your fear was slowly melting away as you realised how stupid the criminal was. “What do you want me to do with that information?” “Whatever you do, please don’t tell the police, Minho will kill me.” “Who?” “The guy who organises this shit, whenever I fuck up, he stuffs tissues in my mouth.” 

“That seems pretty civil for a robber.” “Well, we don’t usually hurt people. Unless they want us to.” “Was that meant to be a threat, or an attempt at flirting?” “Flirting, but it obviously didn’t work since you didn’t even realise I was trying to flirt.” He said, sounding slightly embarrassed. “Well, maybe you should try harder.” “We can save that for another day angel.” You felt your face flush a little after hearing that.

“Another day?” “Well you’ve left your window open these past few nights, so your house is the easiest to rob.” 

“Oh this isn’t my house, I’m just staying here for a bit.” “Are you sure you should be telling me that?” “Honestly, you don’t seem that much of a threat so I don’t really care.” “You don’t seem like much of a threat either.” “What do you mean?” “You haven’t attempted to kill me yet. I mean, someone has chased me down a road with a guitar before, so compared to that…” You cut him off with a giggle and sat up a little bit. 

“You also haven’t called the police yet, unless you’re planning to.” You thought to yourself for a second then looked back at the robber. “I’m actually enjoying this.” “Damn, you must be really bored.” “Yep.” He rocked back and forth awkwardly for a bit and then finally spoke up. 

“Well, I’ll just take this.” He held up an item. “What are you taking?” “I genuinely don’t even know, I can barely see.” “I think-” You squint trying to figure out what the object is. “that’s an empty bottle of Mountain Dew?” “Ah. Valuable!” He picked it up and started climbing out of the window. 

“Wait! Are you gonna tell me your name?” “I’ll tell you next time, as long as you leave your window open again.” 

And with that, he was gone. You began to berate yourself for the absolute stupidity of what you just did. 

‘You let a burglar into your aunt's house!’ ‘What would she think!’ ‘What if he comes back and gets violent?!’ 

But with all of that, you couldn’t help but feel excited for the next time you leave your window open.

Author note: Thank you so much for reading! I seriously appreciate it. This was actually based off of a dream I had! (which was a lot more chaotic but whatever)Like always, constructive criticism is wanted! I'm planning to make a part two to this so if you found it interesting stay tuned! If you liked this, please follow me for more fanfics like this one <3 Thank you!

Masterlist

[laundrybiscuits]

This is the start to a wholly unasked-for sequel to wait for the season that I’ve been poking at for some time. It’s definitely even weirder than that already-kind-of-weird fic, so maybe give it a miss if you’re looking for the standard fare. Steve isn’t even mentioned in this snippet. I'll post something more normal soon, I promise.

From the living end of memory, the past seems inevitable.

You had to go through that terrible thing so that you could become the type of person who would survive that later, more terrible thing that most likely occurred in a thematically resonant way—and with a little determined creativity, the thematic resonances start popping up all over the place. 

So then you arrive on the other side of the terrible thing, the second terrible thing, with your memories all worn smooth like rocks that have been jostling around in a pocket for years. They fit together now, no inconvenient angles or edges anymore. It’s all one continuous shape, the shape of how things happened, and you tell yourself that there was no other way for your story to go.

It was always going to happen this way. 

It was always going to be the concrete; the buzzing overhead lights; the placid, thoughtful voice saying “Let’s see if we can get it to wear some clothes, why don’t we?”

Embarrassingly enough, that’s the first thing Eddie remembers from his new life. He’s seen clips of the grainy footage from the months before that, but when he tries to remember lurching around and sinking his teeth into some disgusting raw slab of meat, it’s like a black hole. His mind doesn’t even want to get near the edges. He feels irrationally like if he thinks too hard about it, his mind will decide that actually, sentience isn’t such a hot shit idea after all, and he’ll tip right back down and down and down. 

———

Wayne’s old now, and it makes Eddie uncomfortable in a way he doesn’t really want to look at too hard. 

Wayne had never been young, exactly; Eddie doesn’t remember a whole lot from back when he first went to stay with Wayne, just a lot of promises that it was temporary, promises that stopped coming after a while. But what he does remember looks a hell of a lot like Wayne when Eddie was nineteen or twenty: wrinkles, bald spot always hidden under some ballcap or other, grumbling I’m an old man but Eddie never truly believing it because somehow, over the years, he’d got to believing that Wayne would always be there. Fucking stupid! So so fucking stupid from Eddie, who on paper looks like someone who should know better. 

Now Wayne’s actually old. Now he moves so slow, Eddie gets impatient just watching him through the lit-up window, doing the washing-up and puttering around the kitchen with stooped shoulders.

It’s easier on him if I don’t, thinks Eddie, but he already knows he’s lying as he thinks it. Or rather, he’s lying in a very specific way: it’s easier for Eddie if he pretends Wayne is dead, but probably not so much the other way around. 

That makes him a pretty terrible person, he guesses, but then again—not exactly a person anymore. He doesn’t know how much that matters. 

It would hurt him, thinks Eddie, tentatively, and that might actually be a little bit true. It’s just not as true as the other truth: that Eddie wants to keep Wayne locked in the box marked BEFORE because it’s too difficult to even think about explaining. That if Wayne’s back in his life, Eddie has to reckon with him as someone who will just continue to get older every single day until one day Wayne is as old as he will ever be.

It’s easier if he doesn’t. Doesn’t he deserve an easier life? Didn’t he go through purgatory? Hasn’t he paid and paid and paid? He should get whatever he wants, he should rip through the skin of the Earth to sink his teeth into the candy flesh, chew it up—

So yeah, he’s a monster in more ways than one. 

———

There’s BEFORE and there’s AFTER, but really that’s just a narrative device. Really there are a lot of before-afters. 

There was before-after Eddie woke up; that’s the big one, maybe. Then there’s before-after Eddie is Eddie again and could think in words like a human. Like a person. Then there’s before-after it becomes scorchingly, irreversibly clear that Eddie is neither human nor person. 

And of course, there’s the before-after Eddie finds himself outside in government-issued sweatpants and a plain blue t-shirt, looking up at the gibbous moon for the first time in his new not-quite-life, and feels absolutely nothing about it.

It hits him later, kind of. He doesn’t even try to get somewhere safe (for whom?) to bunk that first night, just curls up in the nearest Greyhound terminal and felt sorry for himself, performatively. It seems like the thing to do. Woe is Eddie, friendless nightmare beast, freakier than anyone’d ever guessed he could be, and not in a fun way. 

He hadn’t even—

Back before, like before he’d even died in the first place, he probably would’ve taken it harder. Hah. Harder. 

But it hadn’t even occurred to him to reach into his own stringless scrubs and make baby Jesus cry, not for a long time. When it had, he’d felt oddly proud, as if that was proof that he's not some mindless beast at his core. That's probably not quite right, though. He thinks about it some more and decides it doesn't mean anything after all.

And then when dawn hits the Greyhound terminal, he belatedly realizes that shit, maybe he should’ve been thinking more about what vampires can and can’t do, traditionally, and he’s a little worried about burning to a crisp but it’s already too late, so he just rolls under the bench with the last of his consciousness and hopes like hell he looks too dangerous to mess with. 

Somehow he’s okay; somehow the cops aren’t even called. This is by way of being an inference, given that once the sun is out for real, Eddie is for all intents and purposes no longer a participant in goings-on. But he wakes up in the orange light of the sunset and everything seems to be the way he left it, maybe a handful more Burger King wrappers and fresher eau de urine gathering in the corners. The slim roll of go-away-please cash is still in his white cotton briefs. He’s not in a drunk tank and nobody’s prodding him. Nobody’s even around. Cautiously, he wonders if it’s another freaky power they just never thought to check for. 

He doesn’t feel much like testing it, and also it’s actually really fucking uncomfortable to be crammed underneath a bench like he is, so he crawls out and starts trying to pull together some kind of life.

———

“Eddie,” the labcoat says, while he’s still staring up at the night sky for the first time in almost a decade.

Yeah, that whole thing where he walked outside and looked up at the moon wasn’t actually that romantic. They didn’t exactly let him waltz out into the wide world with a bindle on his shoulder; they decontaminated him, made him sign a bunch of stuff, and had this labcoat in sensible shoes slip him a shifty fifty in exchange for promising to come back on a regular basis for “check-ups” that they both know aren’t for Eddie’s benefit. They pretend otherwise, because it’s nicer that way.

“What,” says Eddie. “I’m just saying, I dunno how the economy works nowadays, but I’m guessing fifty bucks isn’t gonna get me too far.”

The labcoat pushes gold-framed glasses up her nose. “You understand that we did not have to do this at all, right?” She doesn’t sound—she’s not being mean, or even condescending. She’s just telling him so he understands. “You do not legally exist.”

That’s all she says, but Eddie knows what she means. He also knows that this money’s coming with strings, and he wants to get the absolute most he can out of this while he still has something they want. 

“Okay, but—”

The labcoat rolls her fucking eyes and reaches into her own fucking pleated slacks and pulls out her own fucking wallet, counting out two twenties and a ten gone soft around the corners. She probably gets paid real good. There’s a picture of a kid in the wallet, maybe five or six years old; it looks like a school photo with that weird cloudy blue-grey background. The kid looks happy. He’s grinning. His name is probably Chris or Lionel or Jacob. He’s probably in some kind of youth T-ball league where he mostly sits in the outfield and eats grass. He’ll probably get into a good college someday, maybe on a baseball scholarship after he gets really good at T-ball after all and hits the winning home run for his high school varsity team. It will be a whole different millennium and he will never, ever know that the Psych 101 class he’s skipping to dry-hump his English-major girlfriend was paid for by the three and a half years his mommy spent administering heavy-duty sedatives to Eddie so they could run all their little tests without Eddie getting bitey.

“Thanks,” says Eddie, because he’s got manners. He’s still got manners.

“We’ll see you in a month,” the labcoat says.

[sky-kiss]

I’m prompting you for ascended fiend Raphael. The scenario is your oyster but I vote for deliciously sinful and nasty. 😈

But if not that one, I do have a prompt idea of Tav saving Raphael (and Haarlep) from an assassination attempt in his boudoir and whatever shenanigans/reactions you’d want to explore. 😂

A/N: I have a few other nasty prompts for the Ascended Lad, so let’s (attempt to) ASSASSINATE THE BOYS. I made it silly. The lads were having a good time. I’m sorry.

_______

R/T/H: 18+: Assassins are so five minutes ago, darling.

_______

"Heroism" is the last thing on Tav's mind as she storms through the House of Hope. "Annoyed" is high on her emotional list, falling just shy of "murderous" and "sexually frustrated." And while these states of emotional flux were often confusing, she has the rare and dubious pleasure of knowing the exact source of her woes. 

Raphael, by way of Haarlep. The Hero of Baldur's Gate chews the inside of her cheek hard enough that it might draw blood. It's still early morning back in Faerun, too early for breakfast, which has not dissuaded Raphael a lick. He's been eating for hours, the little shit. He is never so overtly generous, not without a contract on the table, and so Tav knows it's a deliberate play. He wants her attention; he's too proud to ask so…

…Haarlep. She didn't need to see them or ask for confirmation to know it had been their idea. The incubus had pitched it with a smile on their face and a song in their heart. 

Unsurprisingly, the boudoir's barrier does not stop her. The magic washes over her like an old friend, a touch oily, intimate like a caress. The second she crosses the threshold, the pleasure shifts. Raphael presses his tongue flat against her clit, warm, static pressure. The fingers in her cunt still, an agonizing stretch promising such pleasure if she can ride the wave a little higher. 

"Master, oh, Master, please…" Haarlep cries. It's Tav's voice- wrecked, breathy, and close to sobbing. It's an obvious exaggeration. These situations always inspire Haarlep. A voice in her head, eternally practical and sounding like Jaheira, says she should feel offended by this indignity. 

The problem is she can feel how it affects Raphael. The way his hand tightens on her hip. He shifts against the mattress, grinding his hips down, suckles at her clit. All the strength threatens to leave her knees as Haarlep comes apart, gushing over the cambion's face. 

Well, good for them. 

But back to the "heroism" section of our narrative. 

The fact of the matter is it all comes down to luck. Haarlep's orgasm is intense enough to stop her cold. Those few minutes are why she's lingering in the foyer instead of standing by the foot of the bed. It's the reason she sees the shimmering figure slip in through the window, little more than a few flickering dust motes. Tav frowns, summoning enough presence of mind to focus on the intruder and not the sensation of her doppelganger sinking on a perfectly lovely cock.  

The stranger makes a critical mistake: they hesitate, knife raised above their head. Cold iron or not, she can't think of a less effective assassination attempt. That points to an irritated debtor rather than a competitor in the Infernal Courts. Tav crashes into the would-be assassin. The impact sends them sprawling. 

Fucking Haarlep never even stutters, riding the Archduke with a practiced, effortless grace Tav would admire under less pressing circumstances. She clears her throat. 

"Oh, we heard you, little thief." Haarlep opens their eyes long enough to wink, palming their breasts. Tav glares. The incubus pinches their nipple in response, hard enough to leave Tav shifting. "Nearly finished with that?" 

"With the assassin?"

Raphael chuckles. The low rumbling sound makes her shiver. It's gratifying to know the feeling is mutual; Haarlep's cunt clenches, pace stuttering briefly. The incubus grumbles something in Infernal before resuming a more leisurely pace. "We appear to be in danger, Haarlep. Were you aware?" 

"Such danger. Whatever would we have done without our stalwart protector?" 

The cambion smiles. Handsome, so fucking gorgeous. The assassin twitches under Tav, still clearly present. No matter what the devils would like to pretend. "How should we repay her for this kindness?" 

"The assassin, Raphael!" 

He frowns. The devil pats Haarlep's hip, stilling them. He snaps his fingers, and the assassin vanishes in a shimmering veil of hellfire. Off to languish in his dungeon, no doubt. "There, pet. Are you content now? Can you be civil?" The absurdity of the statement leaves her sputtering. Raphael looks at her, brow furrowing, confused and irritated. "Well, what are you doing down there? Or will I have to make it an invitation?" 

"Someone tried to kill you." 

Haarlep laughs. "Old news. Why linger? We'd far prefer guiding you to a little death, sweetling." 

"Come, mouse." 

And she hates it. She hates the abuse of power, hates their dismissiveness…

…hates that she's rolling her eyes and crawling into bed to join them. 

[iaure]

hii I love your Leon yandere writing sm 🥹💜 I was wondering if you could write a little something with yandere Leon breaking into reader’s house while they’re in the shower and what he’d do? If that’s too specific I’m sorry. Thank you!!💕

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ah how mischievous! i believe i see what you are getting at, little shadow Ꮚ˃ꈊºัᏊ ah hehe ! rely on me!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warning: very slight nsfw; perverted thoughts!

♡ at this point, breaking into your home was Leon's new hobby.

♡ he'd made a habit out of it when you missed a shift, and he had to check up on you. fortunately, you were alright, simply sick, and were asleep when he checked up on you.

♡ after that, he'd made it a thing he'd do every night to check and make sure you were alright.

♡ you never noticed, and your schedule was like clockwork, so he had no issues.

♡ until, naturally, one day, he did.

♡ what he didn't know was that you had stayed up late. for what reason, no one really quite knows, but you ended up getting into your shower late.

♡ really, it was quite lucky for Leon. had he been ten minutes on or off, then you would've caught him. that man must really be god's favourite.

♡ you were only a couple minutes into your shower, but you had already turned your mind off and simply enjoyed the water.

♡ Leon, on the other hand...it took him a second to process what was going on.

♡ you weren't in your bed, and the shower was running, and the door to your bathroom was open.

♡ steam began to fill the bathroom, and his heart began to pound.

♡ were you...showering?

♡ you were naked.

♡ oh god.

♡ oh god you were naked!!

♡ a million thoughts began to run through Leon's mind. should he leave? you could step out at any moment.

♡ but then again, you were right there. your shower curtain was pulled, but even then, did he want to try and see your body?

♡ he stood next to the bathroom door, trying to make up his mind.

♡ despite all he was doing, your privacy was still important to him. it was enough to make him pause before doing something so drastic as to peek on you in the shower, after all.

♡ but then the idea of your soft skin, damp from the shower, and soap running down in rivulets...a washcloth against your skin and pulling your hair back to wash it...the gentle curvature of your body there, just for him...

♡ was it really so bad just to peek?

♡ the scent of your wash was like a siren song. maybe he could just get a peek, to make sure that you weren't...hurt. yeah. let's go with that.

♡ with a heady flush on his face, he poked his head in.

♡ your shower curtain was just barely translucent, showing a foggy outline of your body as you washed it down.

♡ Leon was only there for a second, standing in the middle of your bathroom like a man absurd.

♡ but it was enough.

♡ he dashed out just as you lifted your head, booking it into your bedroom and making tracks for your window.

♡ he had climbed out to the fire escape, putting his back flush to the brick wall and just out of sight of your window.

♡ he had crossed a line. he knew that. but holy shit. was it worth it.

♡ he saw you naked. he'd seen more than anyone else had. this was effectively going to second base with you. third, even. fourth base was too generous-being close enough to feel you in that heat, with you underneath him was a fantasy for another time-but he quickly realised that he had other issues.

♡ he'd neglected to realise that somewhere else on him was taking your body into account. and unfortunately, it's hard to sneak around with what's effectively a pistol in your pocket.

♡ was it graceful, how he took care of himself? not in the slightest.

♡ but that's okay ♡ you gave him more than plenty to work with ♡

[ryxiez]

Forgetful

Mammon x gn!Reader

Angst?/Fluff

1.2k words

I’m not rly happy with this one but I hope it works for y’all. I don’t have motivation to edit it so let’s pray for no spelling mistakes

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Mammon snuck out. Again. It was no surprise that he went out to the casino, his drawer he kept his money in was wide open along with a window. Everything looked like he almost left in a rush.

You sighed as you sunk deeper into the couch he had in his in his room while simultaneously scrolling through your phone. Just earlier that day you made plans with Mammon for a movie night, as a date, but when you arrived to his room he was gone.

Now it’s been over two hours and you were almost at your breaking point. Filled with anger and resentment, you still scrolled through social media.

You then got an alert on your phone, "Check out TheGreatMammons new post on Devilgram!"

'This is so fucking great' you sarcastically said to yourself as you clicked on the notification, brining you to the post.

Not to your surprise, it was of course a picture of him at the casino, letting his greed get the best of him. Like normal he was posting about how he just won huge game or whatever with a bunch of people surrounding him, including women latching onto his arms.

You didn't know how to feel, everything was so confusing at the moment. Should you feel hurt, sad, angry, sympathetic, or remain neutral in this situation?

You couldn't decide as your face reminded blank but a heavy feeling was building in your chest. You shoved your phone into your pocket.

Finally deciding to make your way to the bathroom, you thought it would be the best to wash of the makeup you applied for the date. A bath wouldn’t hurt either. (if you don't wear makeup forget that part ;p)

You knocked on the door and without hearing any response signifying that someone may already be occupying the space, you turned the knob and made your way inside.

You grabbed some new soap Asmo bought for you just the other day. He said it was just the right thing to use after a long day, and let’s just say you definitely needed that right now.

You sat in the tub for god knows how long, you only realized that it was time to get out when your fingers became too pruny.

You left the bathroom in your bathrobe after drying off and drying your hair.

Yet your mind was still filled with thoughts of how to confront Mammon. You couldn’t act like nothing happened but you didn’t want to seem too clingy. It seemed the soap didn’t work as well as you hoped.

You changed into your favorite pair of pajamas and were about to curl into bed until you heard a knock at your bedroom door.

You groaned in annoyance, "What do you want?"

"Open up its ya favorite" a deep voice called from the other side of the door that was oddly chipper for how late it now was during the nigh.

"Mhm, come in." You said. You didn't want to get up from your bed just to let him in, you were already tried.

"Hey~, the Great Mammon is back from a grand night out at casino!" He exclaimed as he entered your room all boisterous.

You rolled your eyes at his ignorance, "Wow great, anything else?" You asked him to see if he would even remember about your date.

"Uhhh, nothing other than money. What do ya mean?" He asked as he placed his finger to his chin thinking while also tilting his head a tad to the side.

"What I mean is, are you forgetting anything?" You asked again but got no response as he other looked at you with confusion written all over his face.

"Forgetting anything that you planned instead of sneaking out?" You asked again and at this point you were astounded at how clueless he could be. He's lived centuries longer than you and still couldn't take a hint.

"You missed our date, idiot." You let him know coldly as you looked away from him.

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed as he ran over to your side on the bed.

"Y/n I completely forgot, I’m sorry." He grumbled as he ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “I’m so so sorry.”

Mammon felt terrible, he was supposed to be your first and he let his greediness get in the way of you. That was the last thing he ever wanted to happen, but it now did, and he knew he had to make it right somehow.

There was no way he planned on letting you down again.

"Y/n, please look at me for a second." He pleaded as you still had your back turned to the demon.

You didn't move for a while, contemplating on actully giving him a chance.

However, inside your heart you knew you couldn't stay mad at him forever. The greed he had was truly a part of him, he was one of the seven deadly sins.

With a sigh you scooted around to face him him with a look of impatience on your face. Mammon gulped and shuffled around to grab something from his pocket. It was a black velvet box that was most definitely had a ring inside.

“I swear to god Mammon if your proposing now-“ you started to say before he interrupted you.

“NO! I mean uhh not yet. Please just listen.” He exclaimed and you couldn’t help but smile a little. To be honest you wouldn’t put it past him.

"I planned on saving this for a later date, but I guess now is the best time to give this to you." He paused as he opened the box to reveal a yellow saphire ring. (feel free to look up and pick the one you like the most)

"I just ran to the jeweler after going to the casino with the money I won... but now definitely seems like the right time to help me apologize instead of saving it." He explained as he looked away with a flushed face.

"Aww, Mammon you're so sweet." You cooed after placing the ring on your finger, a hint of teasing was laced in between your words.

Then you pulled him into a hug knowing it would only fluster him more.

"I- I am not sweet! I am the Great Mammon and I shouldn’t have let you down" He exclaimed as he tried to pry you off his body. However, he didn't try very hard because he knew deep down he loved the affection.

"I guess I can forgive you for now, but only if we can make up for lost time." You said as you pulled away from the hug smirking slightly.

"Wait, wait, w- what do you mean by that?" He asked as you pushed him down onto your bed, tossing the velvet box onto your nightstand as I could get in the way.

"How about I show you what I mean instead."

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Maybe pt.2 if enough people want it!

[supertrxshwrites]

This is a continuation of my angsty Jason Todd x Reader fic post ..this isn’t all of it idk if I’m going to write the rest lemme know what yall think. I listened to “ceilings” by Lizzy McAlpine several times while writing this so I recommend doing that anyway enjoy the angst.

𓆩♡𓆪

During the fall and winter Jay always made it a point to drive me home from school instead of us walking. Something about shitheads waiting in the shadows. We finally pulled up to my house, he had been super excited that day, he kept telling me how Bruce was gonna let him do something he’d been begging for, for like ever. Before I got out of the car it was different with us though. When I turned to say bye he had this look in his eyes. It was serious but half joking almost like he was going off to war. I didn’t take it seriously..I probably should have.

“ I’m gonna be gone for about a week..don’t forget about me while I’m gone” he says with a laugh his eyes and nose crinkling as he smiles

‘ I’d never’ I say softly punching him in the shoulder

“Good..because there’s something I want to talk to you about when I get back but I don’t wanna spoil it by leaving” he says with a grin before looking down

“Just promise me you’ll be okay while I’m gone” his eyes were staring into my soul like he was searching for something more than an answer

‘I’ll be fine Jay promise’ I held my fist up for him to bump it

“You’re doing Knucks so that means you can’t break it” he says before fist bumping me

‘I know I know..alright I gotta go before my mom starts calling me’ I say before getting out of the car.

‘Be safe..’ I say as I grab my backpack and head inside.

Jay was so excited about his trip with Bruce, hell I wish I knew where he was going. But I guess it’s like a father son bonding thing. I didn’t want to ruin his excitement I just have a weird feeling about it.

I smile and wave as he drives off down the road, his tires kicking up slush.

I kick the snow from my boots and head inside before going to work on homework.

The next week felt like years, I mean I have other friends but when your best friend isn’t around nothings the same. Eating lunch was boring, the classes we had together weren’t interesting anymore and even after school. I took the bus because I knew Jason would lose his shit if I walked home.

After the first few days I started to feel this funk, something worse than seasonal depression. Something deeper, something scarring.

I found myself in my bed staring up at the ceiling, its old and dusty and peely. The fan going slowly. I can’t help but replay the car ride from school before Jay left.

‘He wanted to tell me something..’ I say sitting up

I shake my head before plopping back down on the bed.

“He’ll tell me when he gets back.”

Thursday felt like Christmas Eve so excited for what’s to come I had been waiting and waiting for Jay to finally get back. The school day went by fast and when I got home I actually ate instead of sulking by the window like a sad puppy.

“Friday was the day! Friday Jason will be back and everything won’t be so boring” I say as I wash my face in the bathroom.

I pull on some shorts and an old Tshirt and climb into bed. Too excited to sleep I scroll online for a bit before dozing off.

The next morning I got ready as fast as I could. Grabbed my backpack and rushed out the door expecting to see Jason’s red Nissan sitting on the curb.

But nothing.

I took the bus, still excited. I got to class early and saved a spot for him.

Nothing.

“Okay maybe he’s coming back late from his trip” I say a bit nervous but I brush it off

As the rest of the day goes on I feel a hard pang of disappointment in my chest. Crushing my heart like a soda can.

I waited at lunch.

Nothing

Even at the end of the day I waiting for him to pull up. I missed the bus I waited so long.

Nothing.

I found myself walking home. I knew Jason would be mad about it but he’d be here cussing me out as he slowly drove next to me.

Nothing.

I step in a big puddle, my shoes and socks aresoaked the entire time of me walking home.

I get home and drop my backpack at the door, I kick my shoes and socks off and run upstairs slamming the door.

“A week..my ass” I say angrily going to sleep.

The next day felt worse, then it was days and then another week. Until one day there was a knock at the door after school.

“JASON!” I run down the stairs almost breaking my neck getting down them. To finally open the door.

“Where have you been oh my god dude-“ my excitement is cut off when I’m met with a familiar frame in all black.

“..Bruce?” My stomach twists it feels sour. That same bad feeling from before when I got out of the car the day him and Jason left for their trip.

“Y/N” he sounds cold and robotic. More than usual. Almost hurt

I yell for my mom and we all sit down in the living room.

“Where’s Jason? It’s been three weeks!” I say crossing my arms angrily

“Uhm..look..y/n” there’s fear in his voice

“What is he sick or something?..spit it out Bruce!” I say impatiently

“Jason’s…gone.”

His words felt like a trigger. I felt my heart burst into a billion pieces in my chest like an airbag. This car crash got worse because Bruce got up and left. No explanation, nothing just.

“Jason’s gone.”