#i ran out of limbs to chew

[chilliesillie]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMrdaPnU1/

me nibbling on you😼

IM CRYING HE LOOKS SO SILLIEEE

THANKS FOR THE NIBBLES

I WUV YOU

[chilliesillie]

me chewing on everyone

The audio's on yt now so I can post this. I have to say I know for a FACT that Pet is chewing the fuck out of Asirel when they bite him. Like when xan said the bites won't hurt if he's gentle in his first audio really really makes me think pet isn't being gentle at all just for shits and giggles

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny lives in a horror movie-DC x DP prompt

Based on my favorite book series "tales from the gas station"

It's not every day that a mission requires the league to travel to middle America in a bid to obtain a highly cursed artifact but it certainly is today.

Locating the Seal of Silent Ashes was a task usually given to Justice League Dark but Constantine was currently busy. So that meant it was left to the poster boys to get this done. They dressed in civilian attire to investigate the last location of the seal starting with the first building on the edge of town. A small dusty gas station near the woods.

The inside had an awful smell, like death and cleaning fluid. The lights gave off a greenish-blue tint. Rats could be seen out of the corner of your eyes. Most of the chips were offbrand and crappy.

Behind the counter was the teenage boy chewing gum. He looked up at the group before going back to reading his book. He had clearly seen better days but didn't show signs of caring about the state of his hair or bags under his eyes. He drank his coffee.

The air felt off.

"Hey kiddo, do you mind giving us directions?" Clark started.

The kid narrowed his eyes as he popped his gum.

"You're not from here. That or you're from that cult in the woods. Listen I'm not joining. Seriously, cosmic nihilism and fatalism sounds doomed. Hey wait-" the teen checked his notes " No, the cult killed themselves in that mass suicide 2 weeks ago. I forgot, sorry."

The teen didn't say anything else as he went back to his book.

The horrified look of the adults shared was almost hilarious. At least to the teen if he looked up.

"Oh, and stay out of the woods. I don't want the police to come back and ask about who saw you last. Seriously if whatever is in there tears you apart I won't feel bad. I put those signs out forever ago and if I get one more girl covered in blood running in here screaming about her dead friends I'll get a headache." The teen shrugged turning the page.

"What do you mean?! Why would-?! Who's killing people?!" Barry asked frantically as Bruce serched for more reports of missing people in the area.

"I don't know. Why would I know? If you want to go in the cursed forest go ahead. I mean that's how they all die. It isn't my job to stop you. My job is to sit here and watch this store." The teen huffed in annoyance.

Before anymore questions were asked the signal of the radio was disrupted and a demonic howl screeched through the radio.

"God damnit. That cunt is back. Stay here." The teen growled as he grabbed his bat from under the counter and walked out the back door. "String bean! Get off the fucking roof you bastard! You know that radio is all I have here!"

A chattering laugh like a death rattle was heard and the sound of 2 sets of feet was heard on the roof then they lept down.

"Come here so I can beat you to death!" The teen ran around the building towards the front of the gas station chasing-what the fuck is that!

It was like a human that was twisted to crabwalk on all fours backwards. Its face was contorted into a black stretched-out smile with no teeth. It had no eyes just black sockets. All its limbs were stretched out to an extra meter in length. It was a skinwalker of some kind with chalk-white skin. It was skittering away from the teen who was swinging his bat at its head.

"Stop running! I told you before what would happen if I found you fucking with me again!" The boy meant it as he finally landed a hit and began wacking it over and over it.

The skin walker screeched and tried to run for its life but couldn't.

After reducing the monster into a black puddle the black-stained teen came back inside to sit back down not paying anymore to the monster blood he was covered in.

"Sorry about that. Most of the freaks around here have learned to stay away from this place. That one is new and he doesn't listen. You'd think they'd learn but Sting Bean thinks he can torment me. Petty bastard." The teen sighed "anyways are going to buy anything or are you going to waste what oxygen we get in here with this shitty ventilation.

Diana couldn't help but admire the boldness of the boy. He had no hesitation or fear against the beasts of this area even if was crude.

"Does Constantine have a cousin or something? Just a more angry one" Barry whispered to Hal.

[keferon]

It was his fault, his weakness that had made a chink in Vortex's perverbial armor. He was only human, with human needs like sleep, food, and water. So it was his fault that Vortex had revealed his true existence to Shockwave.

Vortex never had any issues killing his other pilots. With killing in general, actually. Firstaid had always assumed that if necessary, Vortex would let him die and go back to his old routine of chewing up pilots.

Sure, he'd (somehow??) befriended the murderous, haunted mech. And sure, they'd gotten… close. Firstaid had felt closer to the mech than he had to any human. Vortex understood him, the real him, the him that he couldn't show other humans. No, they wouldn't have accepted the real Firstaid. But Vortex did.

His heart had raced with excitement at each offered vertebrae, visera still hanging to the alien specimens. Vortex had slowed his dissections of the Quintessens so that every parting strand of muscle had left Firstaid exquisitely breathless, trembling in anticipation of what lay beneath. Vortex had somehow known and understood exactly what Firstaid had desired.

Their relationship, if you could call it that, had always seemed so one-sided. So Firstaid had always just assumed he was the one who needed Vortex, not the other way around.

Firstaid stumbled into the main hanger of the experimental wing. Shockwave's personal playground. He had to be keeping Vortex here, there wasn't anywhere else large enough for the mech. His body ached with bruises and he clutched at his left arm to apply pressure to a cut. The lights in the hanger flickered on, sensing his motion.

Vortex was standing on a platform with cables hooked into his frame. Some attached to the limbs, but most were attached to his and the cockpit where the primary processing power was located.

“Still in one piece.” Firstaid muttered as he ran to the metal stairs that went up to a catwalk. He'd gotten into better shape since he started “piloting” Vortex. He wasn't even panting by the time he'd reached the top. Vortex's cockpit was open, gaping like a screaming mouth. Once it had filled Firstaid with fear and trepidation. Now it gave him relief and anticipation.

Firstaid climbed into the cockpit and began unhooking some of the cables that had been hooked up inside the mech, kicking the discarded cords out past Vortex's visor.

“Come on. Wake up, Vortex. We gotta get out of here.” Firstaid wasn't sure where they would go yet, but they couldn't stay here. Shockwave was going to take Vortex apart. The mech was a “step along the path to the true symbiosis of man and machine” or something like that. Firstaid had been too horrified to pay that much attention, but he knew that Shockwave wanted to become a fully independent mech. The man was crazy, which was saying something coming from Firstaid.

Vortex's frame powered up with a rumble and the blood red visor closed with a hiss. Firstaid threw himself down into the pilot's seat, carefully not touching the controls. He did not want to piss off Vortex anymore than he already would be.

[Get out. Get out get out get out get-]

“Yes, we have to get out of here.” Firstaid's words trailed off as more words appeared on the screen.

[I did not expect you to interrupt us, Firstaid.]

“Us?”

[Get out get out get out get out-]

Vortex's frame shook and sparks rained down from above Firstaid. The controls shook as though fighting themselves. Vortex took a single, jerky step forward. It was nothing like the fluid motion that Firstaid had come to expect.

[Though this is a rather pleasant surprise. It would seem we still need a pilot to activate our systems. You'll do quite nicely, since Vortex is so interested in keeping you alive.]

[Get out get out get out-]

“Sh-Shockwave?!”

[Yes. Now, let's take this for a little test run, shall we?]

[Get out get out get out, Firstaid!]

godDAMN

Previous Next

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader argue about their next steps

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this is a combination of a few asks and takes place pre-OBX season 3. warning for some angst + arguing

Y/n ended her call with her manager Morgan with a sigh. It was a conversation she had been dreading, but she also knew was inevitable with the direction her career (and character on OBX) was moving. She had been dropping hints to Drew that her contract with OBX was ending, that she wanted to move onto some different projects, Caroline’s character arc was coming to a close…

“Hey, baby.” Drew smiled as y/n walked into their living room. He was sprawled out on the couch, his limbs propped on the ottoman and Charleston curled up at his side. Y/n smiled lightly at him, the grin not quite reaching her eyes in a way that made Drew’s brain sound off with bells and whistles.

“Um, I just got off the phone with Morgan,” y/n said quietly, Drew leaning in intently as she spoke, “and I don’t think I’m going to be renewing my contract for OBX.”

Drew’s face dropped, his eyes blinking rapidly as he stared at her in a stunned silence.

“W–what?” Drew said incredulously. Y/n sighed, running a shaking hand through her hair. Whether or not either of them cared to admit it, Outer Banks and shooting together was a big aspect of their relationship. Hell, it was how they met and how they spent months of the year practically inseparable on set.

“I– I just…” y/n swallowed harshly, “I want to try new things and I don’t want to feel tied down to—”

“‘Tied down’? Is that really how you feel?” Drew scoffed, shaking his head at her words.

“Drew, you know I don’t mean it like that.” Y/n sighed, her hand resting on Drew’s tensed shoulder.

“What do you mean, then?” Drew said. “‘Cause I’m trying to understand and it just sounds like you think the show’s a burden and—”

“I didn’t say that.” Y/n said sharply. “I love the show and working with the cast— and working with you— but I just… it’s time for me to move on.”

“But I’m still stuck on this— what, this shitty, teenaged Netflix show? I can’t move on?” Drew shook his head. It was hard to not take it so personally when the show had given them so much, and for her to just leave like that… it hurt.

“This has nothing to do with how I think of you or your acting or career. You know you’re… a lot more important to the show than I am and you have a much more challenging role and—” y/n ran hand down her face with a sigh, “—this is 100% only to do with me and my career and my future.”

“But what about our future?” Drew said. “I just… don’t you think this is going to change things between us?”

“But it doesn’t have to. It doesn’t have to change anything.” Y/n said, taking Drew’s hand. His eyes closed, Drew ran his hand through his hair with a deep sigh.

“This is… this is really what you want?” Drew whispered, his thumb brushing along the back of y/n’s hand lightly.

“I think it’s the right step.” Y/n said quietly. Drew chewed on his bottom lip, mulling over his racing thoughts and questions before his gaze finally lifted to meet y/n’s. She could see a glint of sadness in his eyes, a recognition that the unique bond of the show would be changing.

“I don’t want you to think I didn’t think about us when I was making this decision.” Y/n whispered, squeezing Drew’s hand lightly. Drew nodded, squeezing her hand back.

“If this is what you think is best, then I support you.” Drew said. Y/n let out a sigh of relief, cupping the side of Drew’s face as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel forgotten or—” Y/n began, but Drew cut her off, kissing her forehead chastely.

“I’m sorry for freaking out, it's just… I can’t imagine the show without you and it just scared me to think about it.” Drew said lowly. Y/n frowned, to which Drew shook his head, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. Her arms snaked around his torso, feeling the ridges of his muscles under her fingertips and hearing the thrum of his heart in her ear.

“We’ll figure it out, ok? I love you and we’ll figure it out.” Drew said simply. Y/n, squeeze him tighter.

“I love you. Thank you for supporting me, Drew. Really.” Y/n whispered.

[fanaticsnail]

Entertain Me

Masterlist here

Word count: 1,800+

Art by @skullfacedlady, who this fic is dedicated to.

Synopsis: He was bored. He was tired. He was... Lonely. What is a giant to do, but make a nuisance of himself before entertainment was given to him by the hands of the wardens who placed him in his chains. And what pretty entertainment you make for him.

Themes: Loki (Elbaf) x f!reader (no pronouns, can be read as afab), oral (reader), dub con, mdni, NSFW, smut, 18+, size difference (large), dark themes (implied cannibalism).

Notes: I am in love with this terrible man.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Rocks shook with each rolling shudder of the giant’s shoulders and spine meeting with the large boulder they were bound to. The banished prince had been placed in his cell to rot in for too long, and solitude had finally begun to consume him. He figured if he was bored, he might as well wreak havoc to the natural flora and fauna population above his confinement by causing a landslide or two with his great strength.

Or, perhaps, something could happen. Something like-... What was happening presently.

The gates of the side of his enclosure had swung wide, a body shoved in, and promptly closed and locked behind them. The smaller figure ran to the gate and screamed to let them out while rattling the bars. Their desperation caused Loki’s brow to arch beneath the bandages before he rose to take a better look at his little guest.

“Oh…? And what is this little runt…” Loki purred with the deep rumble of his thick baritone reverberating throughout the confined prison cell, “...something for me to chew on, perhaps? Something for me to eat?” In a few short strides, Loki approached, his new spark of entertainment, and crouched to bring the figure closer to his large, beaming smile.

“Come now,” he teased, leaning ever closer, “Let me take a closer look at my new little thing, hm? Step closer to me, sweet thing. Let me see what I get to pick out of my teeth later.”

You made yourself as small as you could be. Turning to face him, you sunk back into the bars of the cell and clawed at them in fear. Your hands shook in fear, alongside your lip quivering in petrification. Darting your eyes over his, you came to terms with the man that would be your death.

This was it.

This was where you would be laid to rest. Another skull that the banished prince would sit atop. Another skeleton he would use to pick his teeth with. Another snack he would consume to entertain his solitary confinement, hopefully pleasing him enough to no longer continue to cause damage to the local community above his enclosure by rattling the rockface.

“Do you not talk, little one?” He goaded you, wrapping one of his bound hands around your scantily clad body. Thick fingers easily closed in around your waist as he picked you up to bring you closer. “That's fine. You don't need to talk.” Loki hoisted you up into the air while using his other hand to rip the sheets of material covering your body.

“I just need you to scream.”

“No-!” You yelped while kicking your legs out from under you, “No! No, please-!” Tears welled in your eyes and fled over your lash line as you descended into his mouth. Helplessness overcame you as the giant lulled his tongue out and widened his jaw.

He was going to eat you. The banished prince of Elbaf was going to claim your soul and gnaw on your corpse until you perish. Loki was going to tug your limbs off and destroy the last semblance of yourself you-...

“...-Stop resisting. I'm not going to hurt you,” he barked gruffly up at you. Tugging your legs apart, he chuckled at the position of your exposed cunt quivering over his porus tongue. You shrieked as he placed you atop the slippery surface and dragged you backwards and forwards to settle you. “That's it. Little screams while you ride me.”

“W-While I what?” You scrambled forward, placing your hand on the bridge of his large nose to find ground. “W-What?”

Removing his tongue from your core, he breathed his confession into you with a smoothness you were not expecting from the giant. Careful and intimate whispers were fled from his lips like poetry recited before a betrothed lover, regardless of the content of his words.

“I want you to scream for me. A minor entertainment to me while I waste away beneath the kingdom,” he smiled while gently brushing the tip of his nose over your belly, “You can grind on my tongue and cum in my mouth, or I can fist my cock with you wrapped around it. The choice is yours, little runt. What is it going to be?”

All thoughts of prior consumption for nourishment had left your body, which was now overcome with a new unnerving curiosity. When he ripped your garments from you, you assumed it was due to digestion in his stomach acids - not to place your quivering and sensitive pussy on his body and watch you grind against it to meet your ecstasy. Absolutely not to swipe a tongue that matches the size from the top of your head to your toes, sliding seamlessly between your folds and forcing you towards your climax.

“T-... Tongue,” you whisper, turning your face away from the giant to hide your shame. He chuckled while moving to recline against the rockface he was lying bored against moments prior and settled down with you still in his grip. He took your form in a clawed grip and pressed you against his cheeks, slowly rubbing his face with your smaller frame while inhaling deeply.

“We… Are going to have so much fun together, little one,” he breathed deeply, enjoying the flush of your frightened skin against his revealed flesh, “That’s, if you do a good job.”

You shuddered, bracing your hands out in front of you to stabilise you against his face. At that expression, you gave him a puzzled look and rapidly batted your eyelashes in hasted succession.

“If I-?”

“-You are going to ride my tongue, little one,” he purred with a rasped growl in his tone, “And I am going to sit back and enjoy the show. Go on,” he rolled his shoulders against the pale boulders and lulled his head back on a nook within, “Entertain me.”

Without further warning, he thrust your body against his tongue, spreading your folds apart and dragging the porous surface against your cunt in a tentative lick. He held you firmly and adjusted your hands to perch on his nose and removed his hands completely from your body. Loki splayed himself out to the sides and focussed his breath while you steadied your mount on his tongue.

Furrowing your brows, you slowly gave a tested grind against his face, attempting to pay no mind to how large his teeth were to your much smaller frame. The fear continued to hold you back while you timidly began to rock to and fro on each follicle decorating his palate.

“Don't test me,” he growled with a muffled bark in his tone, “Ride my tongue and cum on it. Let me taste that sweetness you're hiding from me. Entertain me.” The rumble of his voice vibrated his tongue and forced a moan out of your lips at the shockwave pulsing through your body. True to form, you gripped his nose and began to form a steady rhythm grinding your pussy over his tongue.

You focussed on anything else: any other mirage your mind could focus on. Picturing your bedroom and placing a pillow between your thighs, you pretend to be back in that space against your mattress and grinding your cunt against the material. Slowly back and forward to chase the mounting pleasure of your clit caressing the cotton sheets instead of-.

“-That's it… that's it. Find that pace and ride me.”

You shook your head, finding the image of your bedroom to slowly dissipate in favor of reminding you where you truly were. You were not in your bedroom. You were not on your bed. You were not grinding your sensitive heat over a pillow and dampening it with your slick essence.

You were riding Loki, the banished prince of Elbaf, by grinding on his slippery tongue and feeling it pry your thighs apart with every thrust.

Loki’s cock lay untouched and throbbing in his pants, begging to be freed and pumped by one of his large fists. He felt the waves of lust come over him, but chose to rest his hands beside him, palms up and humble while his new little toy used him the way you pleased. Sensing the apprehension, he gave you a warning growl to refocus your momentum.

“Ride. Me.”

You gulped back your shame and bore down onto the bulbs and surface of his tongue, chasing your high and forcing yourself to focus. Do a good job, and he'll let you live. Entertain him, and he might treat you well. Cum on his tongue, give into the feeling, and feel the sparks of your muscles contract and throb against his palate.

The slippery organ began to feel good against your body. The feeling of giving yourself completely over to this primal urge caused you to cast aside all embarrassment and fear in favor of the sparks teetering in your vision. Your stomach bound in knots while your lips began to gasp and sigh softly.

“Louder.”

You flinched at the order, but obeyed the giant. Your sultry moans fled your lips while your clit dances against his muscle. Mewls and cries continued to flee you as you gripped hard on his nose. Your stomach flexed and thighs clenched around him, bucking wildly to chase that final wave as the coil inside you bound tight enough to break.

“Cum. Cum for me.”

The world split and shattered like a mirror against slate. Sparks of silver and rings of gold fizzed and erupted as your cum splashed onto his much larger tongue. You screamed out at the intensity while rocking, grinding and bucking to ride it out on your captor’s tongue - just as he had instructed you to do so.

Loki felt his cock twitch, sticky precum dampening his briefs and screaming for just a little touch. His eyes rolled back as he felt you use him completely, becoming hypnotised by the sweet melody spilling from your lips while you came hard. He could find himself coming quite accustomed to this pretty song thrust into his ears a few times a day - if not all day. Anything for a little entertainment in his captivity.

As you came down from your high against the giants tongue, you curled forward and slouched against his lips and nose. His tongue gave you a few lazy licks from ass to clit and back again to smear your slick over his to clean you. Slowly closing his lips, you felt the ridges of his smiling teeth below your spent cunt. Placing you on his upper lip, he steadied you while whispering softly up at you.

“Just you relax for a moment, little one,” he cooked at you, moving his hands over the buckles and furrs of his belt to unburden his cock from its confines, “Just you catch your breath.” He fished his achingly hard cock out of his pants and began to languidly stroke the engorged mass, smearing the precum over his shaft and chuckling as you recovered.

“We're going to have so much fun together.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @ane5e

[dandylovesturtles]

It's time! For Room Fic Part 4 Part B! Of how many parts? IDK ANYMORE

This is the longest part of the fic yet, and it's also the most... talky. But I felt like this was a part of the recovery everyone wanted to see so I thiiiink it's fine.

Content warnings: vomiting, HEAVY discussion of eating issues (including calorie counting, done purely as a recovery mechanism in this fic but still worth noting), mentions of the non-consensual voyeurism that happened in the first part, and as always, anxiety and aftermath of torture

If you're lost, start here!

I'm soooo tired I only proofread like half of this. it'll go through full editing when it goes on AO3

-----

Leo crashes into his room and grabs anything within arm’s reach to pull over himself. The blanket from his bed. A cardboard box, contents dumped on the floor. His skateboard, a beach towel, a plank of wood used to prop up action figures.

He cowers into his claustrophobic, makeshift nest, clutching his ill gotten gains to his chest. He doesn’t know why he bothered, because there’s nowhere to hide in here, and then they’ll…

They’ll do what? It’s his family. And if they’re upset with him for stealing the chips, well, he deserves that. Who is he to take food, when they’re running low already?

That’s what he expected, actually, when the lights flipped on and Raph was standing there. To get yelled at, chewed out, dressed down - the way he’d been waiting for Raph to do this whole time. Why can’t he just do as he’s told? Why does he always make the wrong decisions?

But Raph hadn’t yelled. He ran off. And now Leo doesn’t know what to expect at all.

He assumes Raph went to get their dad, or even Draxum. He waits in his hiding spot, heart pounding in his ears, and listens for the call of his full name, the surefire indicator that he’s in Big Time Trouble. He stole food, food he isn’t even allowed to eat, and when they’re running low, too. He doesn’t know what the punishment is going to be, and the fear of not knowing pulls him deeper into his nest.

He wants to know. He dreads finding out.

Time passes. He has no idea how much. There’s no clocks in here (there hadn’t been any clocks in there), and his phone is on the nightstand, hooked to its charger. To get it he would have to leave his hiding place. And he’s scared.

So he waits and waits and waits. Until his limbs grow uncomfortable and cramped, until no amount of shifting dulls the pain. His heart is still rabbit quick in his chest. (He may be a turtle but call him the hare-)

No one comes for him.

Finally, finally, when his body physically can’t take this position anymore, he scoots out of his hiding spot and gets to his feet, bag of chips clutched in his fingers. He walks to the curtain over his doorway - though “walks” is really overselling it, with the way he pauses for hours between every step.

When he makes it to the doorway, he peeks out.

The lair is quiet. Everything is dark. No one is stirring.

He makes his way back to his bed, and looks at the bag in his hands. He feels so anxious that he’s nauseous. And he can’t eat if he’s nauseous or he’ll lose his dinner.

So he can’t even eat the damn things. The irony would be funny if he could laugh.

He kneels down and fishes around under his bed for a box he knows is there. It’s full of little toys and trinkets from childhood - things he saved from the old lair that he couldn’t bear to throw away, but is too embarrassed to be seen with.

He dumps the contents of the box into the bigger one he hid under earlier. This is more important.

Then he hides the chips inside and scoots the box under the bed.

He climbs back onto his mattress, cringing when the bed springs creak. His blanket is still on the floor, but he doesn’t want to get up and risk making more noise.

So he curls up on his mattress and stares at the wall and tries futilely to sleep.

Donnie’s brand new curtains don’t even help. Maybe that’s part of his punishment.

-----

Somehow, he manages to make it to breakfast. He doesn’t remember who poked their head in to tell him it was ready, or how he picked himself up and walked to the kitchen. He just ends up there.

Mikey greets him with a sunny grin and the announcement that he gets oatmeal today, along with his scrambled eggs. There’s even some banana on top of the oats. He should be excited for the variety, but he feels numb. Still, he smiles as he’s expected to and thanks Mikey and hopes it passes scrutiny.

Draxum comes in, and then his dad. He stiffens up for both, muscles tense while he waits for the yelling to start. But no one starts yelling. Draxum sits and eats and Leo hears him give a reminder to take vitamins. Splinter reads out the shopping list, and everyone scrambles to add last minute items. 

Normally, this is where Leo would be chiming in with all the snacks and junk food he wants, but he knows if he says anything he’ll be turned down, so he doesn’t. He can feel the weirdness of it, but he doesn’t take his eyes off his food to see anyone’s appraisal.

Donnie’s last in; he drinks his coffee fast and tries his luck with adding uranium to the list. He grabs a granola bar instead of eating what the rest of them are having, then tells Mikey to meet him at the entrance in five minutes and leaves. Mikey piles the dishes in the sink, then rounds the table to give everyone a hug goodbye, Draxum included.

Leo smiles when Mikey gets to him. Says, “Have a good day, Mikester.” Swallows down the impulse to grab on and beg him to stay.

He finishes breakfast, then goes to the TV room and settles into the recliner. Raph comes by and pats his shoulder and tells him to call if he needs anything. Splinter hops up and pats his head before following Raph away.

He’s alone now. Alone, with Draxum, who’s currently in the kitchen doing who knows what.

(Leo doesn’t like leaving him alone in there. All their food is in there.)

(Well, not all of it. Leo’s made sure of that.)

He lays in the chair and pretends to be asleep. And he listens. 

To be sure that his brothers and dad are really gone, and aren’t coming back for a forgotten wallet or phone.

Until Draxum leaves the kitchen and moves for the train car he’s taken over as his own.

Until he’s sure no one is watching him.

Then he gets up. He goes to his room. He’s not sure why he feels like he’s sneaking, when he’s obviously allowed to be there.

He makes sure all his windows are covered, curtains or otherwise. Makes sure the curtain over his door is stretched as far as it will go.

Then, as silently as possible, he reaches under his bed and pulls out the box. Opens it to reveal his stolen goods.

He unrolls the top of the bag, wincing at each crackle of the plastic. His eyes dart to the door, to the windows, to make sure no one is there, no one is watching him.

Then he reaches his hand in and grabs a chip in his fingers.

He’s not sure if he should do this now. Maybe he should wait, save this when things get dire. But everyone is gone. They’ve left him alone, with Draxum. What if Draxum doesn’t let him eat, with no one here to step in?

He’s scared of being hungry again. He doesn’t want to go back to that place. 

Just a few, he tells himself. Just a few, and then he’ll stop.

He pulls the chip out of the bag, and takes a bite.

-----

They’re at the local grocery where no one asks questions, basket half full and three minutes in to Splinter trying to decide if the Buy One Get One Half Off deal for frozen dinners is really worth it or not, when it occurs to Raph that maybe they shouldn’t have all left at the same time.

Of course, in normal times this wouldn’t have been a big deal at all, especially with a nominally responsible adult in the lair. But times haven’t been normal for over two weeks now. The thin shell of his little brother, once always the biggest and loudest in the room, now trying to make himself as small as possible, isn’t normal. 

They got Leo back, but it still feels like someone else has him.

And now Raph feels guilty. He’d been so desperate to just get away, from the feeling of being inadequate, from the fear he’d make things worse, that now he’s probably made them worse anyway by leaving Leo alone with a guy he does not like. Raph should have stayed home. Or told Mikey and Donnie to wait until he and Splinter were back before leaving.

(That worries him too, for different reasons. He knows he can’t lock his brothers up in the lair to keep them safe. But he kinda wants to.)

But he didn’t do any of that, and now they’re out and Leo is alone. Raph thinks of the chip bag and sighs. He just can’t seem to make the right decisions. The calculus is overwhelming, and Raph’s always left math to Donnie.

“Hey Pop,” he says, watching Splinter flip his fourth TV dinner over to look at the nutritional information. “Do you think… Leo is gonna be okay?”

Splinter pauses, then gingerly puts the box into their basket. He pats Raph at the knee, and Raph feels the overwhelming desire to be small again. 

“...Yes, I do. It will take time and care, but I think, one day-”

“No,” Raph cuts in, “I mean, do you think Leo is gonna be okay today? I mean, we kinda just ran off and left him alone.”

“He is not alone.” Splinter makes a face, at odds with his words. “Baron Draxum is the most annoying man in the world, but he would not let harm come to you boys.”

Raph rubs his neck. “Sure, but… Leo’s not exactly Draxum’s biggest fan. Especially not now…”

“Blue does not have to like him,” says Splinter airily. “He just has to eat the food Draxum gives him.”

“Yeah, but that’s the whole problem,” Raph insists. “He’s bein’ a huge jerk about it.”

“Ah… I know. I have spoken to him about his… tone.” Splinter waves a hand. “He is trying to be more polite.”

Raph thinks back to breakfast this morning. He’d laugh if anything were funny right now. “Is that why he was all “please” and “thank you” and “sorry” this morning? He looked like he ate a lemon.”

And judging by how distant Leo was acting, he doubts any of it made an impression. 

“It just proves that the man is incapable of being nice!” Splinter chuckles. “Do not worry, Red. We will only be gone a few hours. Most likely, Blue will sleep until we are back.”

“Raph hopes so…”

They continue moving around the aisles, crossing things off their list as they do. It’s normal and boring and Raph thinks he needs that right now. If only it distracted him from the thoughts in his head…

There’s so many questions to dwell on. And the biggest one looms over them all, constantly drawing Raph’s attention back to it.

They’re in the soup aisle when he speaks up again, saying, “Hey, Pops, do you think…” and then flagging out before he can voice it.

“Often,” says Splinter, reaching for a can of tomato bisque. “But at my age, it can be difficult!”

Raph snorts despite himself, grabbing the soup can and passing it to his dad’s fingers. “Come on, Raph’s trying to ask a serious question here!”

“Hm.” Splinter puts the can in their basket. “Then I will give a serious answer.”

“Do you think…” Raph shifts the shopping basket from one hand to the other, and resolves not to chicken out this time. “Do you think Leo did the right thing? Not talkin’ to that Bishop guy?”

Splinter goes quiet for a long time. He points to a can of alphabet soup, the kind Leo insists he’s too old for but will happily eat when he’s sick, and Raph dutifully puts the can in the basket.

“…I think he did the brave and noble thing,” he says at length.

“That ain’t the same,” says Raph.

“I do not know if there was a right thing.” Splinter’s voice is sad, fingers idly stroking one of the soup cans. “It could be that if Blue had talked, he would not be as hurt as he is now. Or it could be that Bishop would have… disposed of him, once they had what they wanted.”

The idea of Bishop “disposing” of Leo steals Raph’s breath. But it’s not like he hasn’t thought of this before.

“April said pretty much the same thing.”

“Oho! April is very wise.” Splinter nods in satisfaction, affirming for Raph once again that his favorite kid is definitely April. But then he looks up at Raph sidelong and says, “But that answer does not satisfy you.”

Raph sighs. “It’s just… what if he thought he had to stay quiet, because of something I- because he thought it’s what he was supposed to do?”

A furry hand lands on his. Raph takes a deep shuddering breath, and uses his free hand to scrub at his eyes. They’re damp, suddenly, and he’s not sure when that happened.

“…I often worry the same thing,” says Splinter, “about all four of you.”

Raph doesn’t know what to say to that. He already knows that their dad would give anything for the four of them to not have to fight; he also knows it’s out of his dad’s hands.

Why can he accept that, but not accept the same for himself?

“I’m afraid I do not have an answer for your question,” says Splinter, pulling Raph back to the grocery store. “I want you boys to be safe. But the situation Leonardo was in afforded him no safety. I’m not sure there is a choice he could have made that would have helped him. Still…” Splinter sighs. “It could be the reasons he made the choice he did are troubling.”

“Yeah,” says Raph. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Mm.” Splinter pats Raph’s hand. “Your questions and worries are wise ones, Raphael. Meditate on your answer, and when you are ready, share it with Blue. You will find your path forward together.”

Raph chews on his lips. “I’m scared I’m gonna mess up,” he admits.

“Sharing the truth in your heart is never a mistake,” says Splinter, “so long as you are doing it with love.”

Raph blinks at him. “Pops, isn’t that a line from one of your movies?”

“It is a good line! Very heartfelt.” He picks up another can of soup and tosses it into the basket. “As long as you are talking to Blue with love, you will do just fine, Red. And remember, this is not your sole responsibility. We are all here to help each other.”

It should be self-evident, but the reminder pulls some weight off Raph’s shoulders. It’s not just up to him. Everyone is coming together to help Leo. That’s why Donnie and Mikey are at the scrapyard, to finish making curtain rods for Leo’s room. That’s why Draxum is always researching and scribbling in his notebook, refining his meal plan for Leo’s recovery.

It’s not just Raph against the world. He isn’t alone, and neither is Leo.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Pops.”

“Of course, Red. Now, let’s keep moving or we’ll be late getting back!”

On their way to the checkout line, Raph spots the candy aisle, and a bag of hard, sour candies. He stops, reaching out and brushing the bag with his fingers.

“Mm… that is Blue’s favorite, isn’t it?” asks Splinter.

“Yeah.” Raph pulls the bag off its hook, holding it over the basket uncertainly. “I know he can’t have ‘em yet, but he’ll be able to eat normal stuff soon, right?”

“Right.” Splinter nods. “Put them in! We will hide them until Draxum says it is okay, then give them to him.”

Raph grins and drops the bag into the basket. At least it’s something to look forward to.

-----

Leo is halfway through the bag of chips when the curtain to his room is pushed aside and Draxum is standing there.

He was saying something about the vitamins Leo forgot to take as he came in, the little blue pill organizer clutched in his hand. But now he freezes, taking in the scene: Leo with a handful of sour cream and onion chips, his cheeks bulging slightly, the salty evidence tracking up the sleeve of his hoodie.

He’s crossed the room before Leo can blink. He grabs Leo’s wrist, and Leo cries out, twisting his arm to try and free himself.

But he can’t, he’s weak, he’s so weak-

“What are you eating!?” Draxum bellows. He tosses the pill organizer onto Leo’s bedside table; one of the lids pops open and there’s little plinks as vitamins scatter. “How much of this have you had!?”

He wrenches the bag out of Leo’s grip, and Leo yelps again as he loses the food. The only food he had, and now Draxum has it and Leo is going to-

“This bag is over half empty,” snarls Draxum, waving it in Leo’s face. Leo doesn’t have the presence of mind to defend himself, because he’s still trying to wrench his wrist free. He claws at Draxum’s arm with his free hand, and somehow it gets Draxum to let go; he jerks away with a gasp, dropping the handful of chips to the floor, and at the same time the ones already in his mouth leave painful scratches down his throat and lodge there. Leo doubles over and wheezes in a desperate attempt to get air.

“Are you- Leonardo!” Draxum looms over him, and Leo doesn’t have the strength to flee. He can’t do anything as Draxum strikes him, once, twice, three times on the shell in big, open-palmed slaps.

A white-hot cough rips up Leo’s throat, and he spews the half-chewed potato chips across his blanket, bits of drool and spittle dangling from his lips and tears rolling down his face. He sucks in a deep breath as feeling returns to his limbs.

The hand that hit him moves toward him again, and Leo dodges this time, flinging himself off his bed and into the floor, scrambling backwards to put distance between himself and his attacker.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” he shouts, hand flailing for his swords and not finding them. Where did he put them? Where did they take them?

“Leonardo-” 

Draxum takes a step toward him, and Leo pushes to his feet, grabbing for anything nearby to defend himself. But there’s nothing, nothing, where are his swords-

“Leonardo,” says Draxum more firmly, and he takes another step forward. “Stop this, you’re going to hurt-”

“No!” Leo presses himself back against the bookcase on the far wall, the metal shelves biting into the skin of his arms. “No,” he repeats, and a high, manic laugh bubbles through his throat. “You took my food.”

“This,” Draxum shakes the bag, “is all empty calories. This is not going to help your recovery! Why can’t you just do as you’re told-”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Leo spits. He feels stronger than he did a moment ago, pushing himself off the bookshelf and standing on steadier legs, squaring up against Draxum. “Just do as I’m told?” He laughs, a cold sound. “Just like Bishop wanted.”

Draxum stiffens. Something about his expression is… weird. If Leo didn’t know better, he’d almost say Draxum looks scared. “Do not compare me to him,” he says, and his voice is much lower than it was a moment ago. “I am trying to help you.”

“Help me?” Leo holds out his hand, taking a step forward. “Then give me my food back.”

Draxum watches him, gaze unwavering. He holds the chip bag closer to his chest. “I cannot.”

Leo barks out a laugh, high and cold. “I knew it. You’re just lying to me.”

Now he’s the one advancing on Draxum, slow but strong steps, one at a time. Draxum does not move.

“Leonardo-”

“I’m on to you,” says Leo. His voice is a chilly sing-song. “You’re sooo happy to have everyone out of the house. Now there’s no one to stop you from torturing me. Now you can watch me suffer.”

“I do not want you to suffer,” says Draxum, his tone measured. He still hasn’t moved an inch, even though Leo is right in front of him now, within striking distance. 

“Then why did you take my food!?”

“This is not good for you,” says Draxum. “I’ll feed you a healthy lunch in two hours.”

“Yeah?” Leo shakes his head. “What do you want me to do for it?”

Draxum’s eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

“Come on. Tell me.” Leo grins. It hurts his face. “Want me down on my knees? Want me to beg?”

Draxum’s face goes a shade paler. “No,” he says, firm. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“I don’t believe you,” says Leo. He laughs again. “I don’t. I don’t BELIEVE YOU!”

His fist connects with the glass- but it’s not glass, it’s Draxum’s face, and he goes sailing across the room like a rag doll. He slams back first into shelving, and there’s a clatter as Leo’s possessions tumble and fall around him.

He looks at Leo, eyes wide but expression steady, despite the fact that Leo just…

Leo… doesn’t know what just happened.

He shouldn’t have been able to hit that hard. He shouldn’t have been able to hit at all- Draxum should have blocked that, should have fought back, should have… should have…

“...What?” says Leo, and it comes out with a crack down the middle.

Draxum watches him a moment longer. Then he sighs and pushes himself off the shelves, getting back to his feet. He doesn’t come closer. “I cannot give you these,” he says, indicating the bag. “But I will not fight you.”

“...Why not?” Leo asks, because it just doesn’t follow anything he thought was happening here.

“Because I care for you,” says Draxum simply. Like it’s obvious.

“...I don’t understand,” Leo says, because he doesn’t.

Draxum nods. “That’s because I haven’t properly explained it to you. I didn’t think it was necessary… but it was. Is.” He sighs, rubbing his cheek, starting to glow red from Leo’s punch. “I’m very sorry for that, Leonardo.”

Leo stares. Draxum is… apologizing? He should be attacking, fighting back, not apologizing!

The adrenaline leeches out of Leo, leaving him sagging in the middle of his room - his messy room, with everything thrown around like it’s in an active war zone. A million emotions are running through him, his dying rage warring against the confusion and the beginnings of remorse, a roiling mix that leaves him feeling sick to his stomach.

…Oh wait, no. He’s actually sick to his stomach.

Leo clamps a hand over his mouth, and Draxum is moving again - more calmly, this time. He drops the chip bag on the floor and grabs the wastebasket Leo has sitting by what could generously be called a desk. He holds it out, just in time for Leo to lose his breakfast and all the chips he just downed.

Leo hovers over the wastebasket until he’s empty, until he’s spit a few times to try and get rid of the taste. Then he wipes his mouth on his palm and looks up at Draxum warily.

“Are you finished?” Draxum asks.

Leo shrugs. Draxum takes that as an affirmative and lowers the wastebasket to the floor by the doorway.

“Why are you helping me?” Leo asks.

“I’ve been helping you this whole time,” says Draxum, and it’s only the exasperation that manages to break through that makes Leo think it’s - maybe - not a lie.

“Why?” he repeats, more urgently. 

“Because you are my son.”

Leo steps back, his knees knocking into his bed. He sinks down onto the mattress, balling himself up until he can wrap his arms around his knees. 

“No,” he says. “Mikey’s your son. Raph and Donnie, they’re your sons.”

A look passes over Draxum’s face. It’s… sad.

“You are my son, too.” Draxum takes a step toward him, then seems to second guess himself and stops. “I know we don’t get along. But the fear that froze my chest when they told me you were gone couldn’t mean anything else.”

Leo stares at Draxum, searching every part of his expression for any hint, any suggestion, that he’s lying. He waits for Draxum to change his tune, to start yelling again, to hit him, to do something.

Draxum doesn’t. And Leo sags on the bed. The feeling of fear with nowhere to direct it leaves him floating.

“I’m going to explain everything to you now,” says Draxum. “But I need to get a few things first. Will you be alright on your own for a few minutes?”

Being alone for a few minutes sounds great; Leo needs to pull himself together. He nods.

“Good.” Draxum stoops and picks up the wastebasket, then the bag of chips, and the chips that fell on the floor. “Answer your phone,” he says, “before your brother comes back to skin me alive.”

Then he leaves the train car. It’s only then Leo realizes his phone is ringing - has been ringing.

He scrambles to pick it up, seeing Raph’s name and picture lighting up the screen. Raph, who is supposed to be getting groceries, because they’re running low.

Raph, who apparently didn’t rat him out about the chips.

Leo shakily presses the answer button. Then he takes a deep breath and swallows to try and calm his voice.

Then he does what he does best and starts talking.

-----

“Heeey, bro,” says Leo, and Raph wants to weep with relief.

He’s two full blocks away from the grocery now, headed for the manhole cover closest to the lair. Their groceries are somewhere on the street behind him, and Splinter is held tight in his other arm. When Leo didn’t pick up right away, Raph started moving.

He felt it, after all: not as strong as the first time, not as desperate or afraid, but still there. Leo, terrified and alone and angry, crying out for help.

Leo hadn’t answered the first four calls, and the worst scenarios are still playing out in Raph’s imagination, even though he can hear Leo now.

“Leo!” he cries, and nearly fumbles the phone. He hits the speaker button, lowering it so Splinter can hear, too. “What happened!? Are you okay!? We’re on our way back right now!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” says Leo, and his voice is scratchy and hoarse, but trying to be placating. “What are you talking about, big guy?” He sounds shaky, like saying those words in that tone is taking so much effort, and Raph wants to hit something until it breaks. 

“Just tell me what happened,” he says, trying to sound calm and failing. Splinter pats his arm and speaks up.

“We just need to know if you are alright, Blue.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” says Leo, his voice cracking a bit on the last word. He clears his throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Raph falters, staring at the phone. Does Leo not know? Could Leo really not feel himself doing that?

He gives his dad a helpless look. Unfortunately, Splinter looks just as helpless. Raph dithers on his answer too long, finally choking out, “Raph just… got a bad feeling.”

“You get bad feelings over everything.”

(Raph wishes he did. Then he would have gotten a bad feeling when Leo went to Run of the Mill on his own.)

“This was just… a real bad feeling.”

“Leonardo,” says Splinter softly, “are you certain you are okay?”

“Yeah,” says Leo, and he doesn’t sound like he’s okay, but like an actor pretending to be someone who’s okay. “It’s… Look, me and Drax got in a fight, but it wasn’t a big deal.”

“He fought you!?” Raph shouts. Someone across the street gives him a weird look.

“Not physically!” says Leo hastily. “Not- I mean- he didn’t- it’s not like he would hurt me, right?”

It sounds a little too much like an actual question, and Raph feels queasy.

“He better not, or Raph’ll hurt him.”

“Red,” says Splinter softly. Then he says, into the phone, “No, Blue. He will not hurt you.”

“...Right,” says Leo quietly. “Yeah. He won’t.”

Raph breathes shakily, trying to quell the urge to pummel a car parked on the side of the road into scrap metal. “Listen, we’re on our way back right now, okay? Just give us-”

“You got the groceries already?” Leo interrupts. He sounds so fragile.

Again, Raph looks helplessly at Splinter. This time, Splinter steps in.

“We’re getting them right now, Blue. Then we’ll be on our way back.”

“...Yeah. Cool. Good.” Leo clears his throat again. “Then… see you guys in a few?”

“...Yeah,” says Raph, at a loss. “A few.”

“Okay. Well. Bye.”

He hangs up. Raph doesn’t move the phone, staring at it long after the screen goes dark and Leo’s smiling face disappears.

“Pops, we’re not really going back for the food, are we?”

“He’ll be upset if we come back without it.”

Raph knows he’s right. He knows that. But everything in his body is screaming to get back to Leo right now, not to leave him alone for another second.

“We can’t all run off and leave him again,” he says.

“Yes,” agrees Splinter. “You are right.”

Raph nods. Then, even though it tears him apart, he turns around and starts walking back to the grocery store. He hopes no one spotted their bags and took them, or they’ll have to start over. They’ll have to leave Leo alone even longer.

“He hated being alone as a kid,” he says.

“I know,” says his dad.

“We shouldn’t have left him today. I knew it.”

“Yes. You were right.”

Raph feels a little mad at Splinter then, that he didn’t think through the consequences. Splinter said this isn’t on Raph alone, but if he’s the only one thinking about the wellbeing of his brothers…

His brothers.

He puts Splinter down, then unlocks his phone again. “I’m gonna call the other guys. They probably felt that, too.”

“A good idea,” says Splinter. Raph nods at the approval, then clicks Donnie’s contact.

Thankfully for Raph’s anxiety, he answers on the second ring. “Hello you are now conversing with Donatello,” he says in a rush, following up with, “What happened to Leo!? Are you home!?”

“No, but I talked to him,” Raph reassures him quickly. “He says he and Barry got in a fight.”

“A fight!?” Donnie echoes. “Aha! I knew he’d turn back to supervillainy one day! You owe me twenty bucks!” A pause, and then Donnie says, “Wait, is Leo okay!?”

“No,” says Raph honestly, “but I think it’s just a normal sort of bad. It wasn’t that kinda fight.”

“Ah. An emotional fight…” Donnie sighs. “But it was bound to happen, I suppose.”

“…Yeah,” Raph agrees, even though he thinks there must have been something they could have done to prevent it. He thinks about the chips again. He doesn’t know what the right thing was, still. “You felt it, right?”

“Yes. It wasn’t as strong as the first time, though.”

“What about Mikey, did he feel it, too?”

“Probably.”

Raph frowns. “You don’t know?”

“I am not Micheal.”

“…So can you ask?”

“I suppose I can text him for you.”

Raph nearly drops the phone. Then he glances down at Splinter, looking for any hint that he’s listening into Donnie’s half of the conversation.

“Why don’t you ask him, since he is right there with you where he is supposed to be!?”

“H-huh? Oh. Oh, yes!” Donnie chuckles nervously. “The buddy system, where he is my buddy, and stays in the same place as me and doesn’t go anywhere else.”

“Right,” hisses Raph. “That buddy system.”

“Yes! Well. He iiiis…n’t with me, but! He is. Here. On the other side of the junkyard!”

Raph rubs the bridge of his nose. “Well, tell him to get back from the other side of the junkyard right now so he can be with his buddy!”

“Yes, I will do that. Right now. And then we’ll be together because we’re in the same place, haha, but I’m so very busy right now goodbye Raphala!”

He hangs up the phone. Raph scowls at it.

“Is everything alright?” asks Splinter, and Raph wants to rat them out, just for a moment, but he ain’t a snitch. Even when he thinks his brothers are being unbelievably stupid.

“Everything’s fine, Pops,” he says, quickly opening his text thread with Mikey.

boy you better get your butt back to D right now or so help me you will NOT like what comes next

Then he gives Splinter a strained smile and repeats, “Everything’s fine! Let’s get those groceries!”

-----

When Draxum comes back, he’s carrying a plastic baggy, a bottle of Gatorade, and a whiteboard under his arm. He requests permission to sit on Leo’s bed, and Leo nods reluctantly.

He sets the whiteboard to the side, then opens the Gatorade and passes it to Leo. Then he opens the plastic baggy and holds that out, too.

There’s crackers in the bag. Leo takes them, a little stunned.

“I can eat these?” he asks.

“They’ll help settle your stomach,” says Draxum. “It’s not good for you to eat too much, but it’s also not good for your stomach to sit empty.”

Leo cautiously takes one of the crackers out, watching Draxum as he does. When no hand reaches to stop him, he takes a bite, chewing slow. He still feels a little nauseous, but the familiar texture and taste of the cracker soothes him somehow.

“Good,” says Draxum, propping the whiteboard on his knees and popping the cap off a marker. “Take sips of the drink, too. You need the electrolytes.”

Leo does as he’s told, alternating bites of the cracker with sips of the Gatorade. His stomach slowly unknots, and the tension in his shoulders relaxes.

He wasn’t expecting a snack, but Draxum brought him one.

On the board, Draxum has written the days of the week, and drawn out a grid underneath them. Leo eats his snack and watches as Draxum fills each square on the grid with a number.

“Where’d you even get that?” he asks after a minute.

“I borrowed it from Donatello’s lab.”

Leo whistles. “Without asking?”

“I don’t think he will mind.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Leo points at the numbers. They aren’t times, or prices, so… “What are these?”

Draxum lowers the board, turning to look at Leo. “Do you know what refeeding syndrome is?”

“…Should I?”

Draxum shakes his head. “No, there’s no reason for you to have known. I should have explained this sooner, but it didn’t feel necessary. …And I thought it might scare you.”

“Scare me?” Leo repeats. He’s not sure what could be even more scary than the fear he feels all the time now.

“I am not telling you this to scare you,” Draxum stresses. “I am telling you this so you understand what is happening now.”

Leo slowly nods.

“Right. So, do you know that when a person is starving, their body changes how it processes nutrients?”

“Yeah, it’s like, starvation mode.”

“If you must call it that,” says Draxum with a nod. “The body stops relying on carbs and glucose and uses fatty acids instead. This helps preserve the muscles, but causes a severe depletion in intracellular minerals.”

That sounded like a Donnie-level infodump to Leo. He stares at Draxum blankly. “Can you say that again, en Ingles por favor?”

Draxum actually makes a noise that could almost be a laugh. “Alright, think of it this way: a painter wants to use purple, but their purple paints are running low. So they start using red and blue mixed together, which solves the problem of preserving the purple paint, at the cost of running low on red and blue.”

Leo raises his eye ridges. “Is this how you explain stuff to Mikey?”

Draxum shrugs. “He understands art metaphors.”

Leo settles back a little more comfortably on his bed. He munches on a cracker. “It’s fine for today. Think of a comic book metaphor for next time.”

Draxum gives a long suffering sigh and says, “Fine. But do you understand now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Good. So when a person eats again after a long term starvation event, their body won’t start relying on glucose again right away. It’s still in “starvation mode,” as you called it, and switching isn’t easy. The painter buys a new purple paint, but the color is different enough that they will have to use more red and blue to blend the two together.”

“I’m starting to lose track of the art metaphor here. We added purple, but we’re still low on red and blue, right?”

“Yes, precisely. Your body is low on critical minerals, and those need to be replenished at the same time it is given more carbs to convert to glucose.”

“But I still don’t understand why that means I have to eat less,” says Leo.

“Digestion itself takes energy,” says Draxum. “And the body isn’t using the tools it’s being given properly yet. So it is using more and more minerals without replacing any. The imbalance leads to stress on the body, which has negative downstream effects.”

“So, TLDR, if I eat too much right now, my body can’t handle it and I’ll get sick.”

“I have no idea what TLDR means, but yes, simply put.”

Leo looks at the cracker in his hand thoughtfully. “So all the times I’ve puked are refeeding syndrome?”

“No,” says Draxum with a shake of his head. “That is because your stomach has shrunk, and you’ve overstuffed it.” A pause, then Draxum adds, “Though I believe what just happened was a stress response.”

“I’m not stressed,” says Leo. The look Draxum gives him is not convinced. “Sooo then what is refeeding syndrome if it’s not barfing?”

“The lack of minerals causes severe stress on all parts of the body, especially the organs. This can lead to a number of disorders… including organ failure.” Draxum pauses, like he doesn’t want to say more, but he still adds, “In extreme cases, it can lead to heart failure.”

The cracker Leo is holding slips through his fingers. He feels his pulse speed up, something cold and terrible sliding through him.

“If I eat too much my heart could stop?” he asks, and his voice is small.

“In extreme cases,” Draxum repeats. “If you began showing symptoms, we would take you to a hospital. Even in the Hidden City there is no mystic cure-all for this, but they could at least reduce the stress on your organs.”

Leo shakes his head. His hands are trembling. The words feel like they’re coming to him through thousands of feet of water.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I did not want to scare you,” Draxum says again. “And I did not think it was necessary. Refeeding syndrome is entirely preventable, if precautions are taken.”

It barely penetrates. All Leo wants is food. All he wants is to eat. But now food somehow feels like the enemy. He suddenly queasy again. Should he even be eating these crackers? What is safe? What isn’t?

“Is this forever?” he manages to ask. 

He doesn’t know how to take it, if it is.

“No,” says Draxum quickly. He raises his hand and reaches toward Leo, but Leo flinches. Draxum lets it drop again. “…No, Leonardo, it is not forever,” he says, and his voice is more soft than Leo has ever heard it - more soft than he thought Draxum capable of. “The most critical time for refeeding is the first five to seven days. You are almost clear of the danger zone now. And your enhanced biology may even mean we’re already past it… though I am still being cautious.”

Leo lets out a breath. So it’s not forever - it may even be over. It doesn’t calm the racing of his heart (at least he knows it hasn’t stopped, ha ha), but it does make him feel like he can pick up the cracker again.

“Then what happens once we’re past it?”

“That is what this is for.” Draxum lifts the whiteboard again, perching it on his knees. “Even once you’re out of danger of refeeding syndrome, we’ll still need to build your daily food intake up gradually, until you can eat like you once did. These,” he taps the board with the marker, “are my calorie goals for each meal and snack. As you can see, every day it goes up.”

Leo looks over the counts. They don’t really mean anything to him, but he can at least see how the number increases across the seven days on the board. “How many calories is normal?”

“Based on calculations I have done, going off what I have seen you boys eat as well as my own estimates for your growth, you and Donatello eat roughly five thousand calories a day, sometimes going as high as six thousand when you are particularly active.” Draxum scribbles the number in the corner of the whiteboard. “It’s high compared to humans, but within perfectly healthy limits given your mutant biology and high metabolism. Raphael eats more, and Michelangelo eats a bit less, though not by much.”

“Yeah,” Leo gives a chuckle, “kid can put away a whole large pizza by himself when his blood sugar’s low.”

“Unfortunately, I have seen him do it.” Draxum sighs. “But right now, you are averaging much less.” He taps the numbers. “Our goal right now is to get to where you are eating around twenty two hundred calories a day steadily, without getting sick.”

Leo has never been the math guy, but even he can handle some simple division. “Less than half? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. That is why ensuring that your meals are as nutritious as possible is important.” He nods at the pill organizer. “And why the vitamins are important.”

Less than half as much as he used to eat… It leaves Leo feeling a little dizzy again. Nine days without food wrecked his system this hard?

“Don’t panic,” says Draxum in that soft voice again, and Leo feels a little resentment for how it pulls him out of his ensuing spiral. “You can see that your counts are going up steadily, and as we reintroduce solid food it will get even easier. And this is not hard and fast. Going a little above this is not an issue. And I am constantly readjusting as we go. It will take time before you are… putting away entire pizzas.” Draxum scrunches up his face in distaste. “But in a few weeks, you will be eating a much more normal diet than you are now.”

Leo rubs his hand up and down his arm. “Normal like, I can eat potato chips without getting yelled at?”

Draxum sighs. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you to begin with.”

“Yeah, well…” Leo fishes his last cracker out of the bag and rubs it between his fingers. “I gave you a black eye, so I think we’re even.”

“Hmph.” Draxum almost sounds amused, though he doesn’t let his lips quirk up even a tiny bit. Leo thinks he might be allergic to smiles, unless he’s doing something evil. “Still, I hope you understand the situation now.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Leo takes a small bite of the last cracker. Takes his time chewing and swallowing it. “The main thing is you’re going to keep being a pain in the butt for the next few weeks, right?”

“Yes, you’re stuck with me.” Draxum watches him take another bite of cracker, then says, “There’s something else you need to understand, Leonardo. The goal of this,” he taps the whiteboard, “is to keep you from getting sick. It is not to keep you hungry.”

Leo stares at the board, and the calorie counts, all laid out neatly. “Sure,” he says, and he doesn’t feel it.

Draxum hesitates, then taps each row, reading off, “Breakfast, lunch, snack, dinner, snack. Smaller amounts of food more frequently, to keep your stomach full without overstuffing.”

“Makes sense, I guess.”

“And this can be moved around. If you eat breakfast earlier than normal, you can have a snack in the morning instead. But you tend to sleep in, which is why I structured it this way.”

“Nine’s not sleeping in,” Leo grumbles.

“Nine is- no, this is not the point.” Draxum gives his head a shake. “The point is, if you want to move your eating times around, we can. The goal of this is to keep you from getting sick. It is not to keep you hungry.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“No, I’m not sure you did.” Draxum again uncaps the marker, then writes across the top of the board five simple words:

If you are hungry: eat.

Leo stares at those words. It feels like a trap, a trick - Draxum’s being all nice right now, but the way he ripped the bag from Leo’s hands…

“I was hungry when I ate the chips,” he says, and it’s a little bit of a lie, but that’s not the point. He watches Draxum carefully, for any sign that this is all fake, and Draxum really does want him to suffer.

Draxum’s brows furrow. “You are not in trouble for eating,” he says. “You’ll never be in trouble for eating. It is just good for you right now to eat healthy things. 

“I know it isn’t fair,” he adds, voice blunt, “but life rarely is.”

Leo studies his face. And the amazing thing is, he doesn’t think Draxum is lying.

“So… if I want a late night snack, I can eat some crackers?” he asks, waving the empty baggie.

“Yes. Or a banana, or some yogurt… If you feel very hungry, you could even eat some egg, or leftover soup.”

“And you’re fine with me just eating… whenever?”

“If you are so hungry you need to eat an extra meal, I just ask that you let me know, so I can adjust.” He taps the board. “But yes, I am. You know the stakes now. I trust you.”

Trust. Leo’s never had much of that from anyone. He looks down at the empty bag and wonders if it’s really true.

“…Is there anything you need right now?” Leo lifts his eyes back to Draxum’s face. “I can get it for you.”

Leo thinks about it. “When did you say lunch is?”

“About an hour and twenty minutes, now.”

“Then… I’m fine.” Leo pushes himself further back on his bed, dropping his trash into the space between them.

“Hm. I will bring you some more juice to drink.” Draxum nods at the pill organizer. “You still need to take those.”

Leo shoos him off. “I will, sheesh.” Now that he knows how important it is.

Draxum rolls his eyes and gets up. He takes the trash, but leaves the white board propped against the wall at the foot of Leo’s bed.

He’s almost to the door when Leo clears his throat and says, “Hey Barry?”

Draxum pauses, hand grasping the curtain. “Yes?”

“Any chance we can skip telling my dad and brothers about… everything?”

Draxum looks back at him. “Trust me when I say that I would like to omit this as much as you… But I am going to have to tell your father, at least.”

Leo groans, letting his head fall back on his pillows. “This sucks.”

“Then I will try to think of ways to make it suck less.” Draxum pulls the curtain aside. “Rest, Leonardo. I’ll bring your juice.”

Then he’s gone, leaving Leo alone.

-----

Raph puts the groceries down in the kitchen, then looks toward the escalator leading down. He should stay and help put everything away, but all he wants to do right now is rush to Leo’s side.

“Go,” says Splinter beside him. “I can take care of this.”

That’s all the permission Raph needs; he takes the escalator steps two at a time and crashes down onto the lower level.

Draxum is there, standing outside Leo’s train car and looking at one of his notebooks again. When he hears Raph, he closes it and looks up.

Raph’s eyes catch on the bruise forming on Draxum’s cheek and eye - it’s just starting to darken, but Raph can tell it’s going to be a plum shade of purple by the end of the day.

“He told me it wasn’t physical,” says Raph immediately. A little dangerously.

“It wasn’t, on my end,” says Draxum.

Raph finds that he believes that, and he can’t help the way his lips quirk up at the news.

Draxum scowls. “Yes, yes, very funny.”

Raph claps him on the shoulder. “Come on, Barry. You know you deserved it.”

“We can debate that later,” says Draxum, dry. He nods at the train car. “He’s in his room.”

“Raph figured.” He locks eyes on the room, wishing he could see past the curtains to know Leo’s state. “When you guys were fighting, he… called for us again.”

Draxum’s expression turns more concerned - nearly imperceptibly so, but Raph knows him well enough by now to see it. “Yes, I know.”

“You felt it?”

“No.” Draxum pulls away. “I have things to discuss with Lou Jitsu. Is he in the kitchen?”

“Yeah.” Raph wants to know what Draxum saw, but he always wants to get to Leo as fast as possible. In the end, the draw to his brother is stronger, and he steps forward. “Help him put the groceries up.”

“If I must,” says Draxum, and then he walks away toward the escalator. Raph doesn’t hang around to watch, instead hurrying to Leo’s room.

The room is a mess, even more than normally. His action figures are scattered everywhere, comic books have been knocked from the shelves, his blankets are on the floor. Leo himself is in bed, vacant expression staring at nothing Raph can see, and it’s an eerie way to see his little brother, usually never without his phone or a comic book in his quiet moments. 

He clears his throat, and Leo’s eyes flick his way. “Hey, Leo.”

“Hey.” Leo rouses himself to alertness, like he’d been sleeping with his eyes open. He shifts on his pillows so he can better see Raph. “You guys got the groceries?”

“Yeah, we did,” he assures Leo. He walks in, standing over Leo’s bed. He’d been so anxious to get back here, but now he finds himself trapped in the same place as always, unsure what to say or do.

Leo stares up at him. “…Everything okay, hermano?”

“I came to ask you that.” Raph sits down on the edge of the bed, then startles when something hard falls against his arm. He looks and finds a whiteboard, with numbers that make no sense to him written in neat columns (not Leo’s handwriting), and, across the top:

If you are hungry: eat.

Raph can’t help but stare at those words a few seconds longer. Is this something Leo needed to be told?

Beside him, Leo is saying, “Me and Drax got in a fight, but we worked it out. It’s fine.”

“Yeah.” Raph grins, tearing his eyes away from the whiteboard to look at Leo. “I saw the shiner you gave him.”

He’s expecting a grin back; for Leo’s expression to turn mischievous, or cocky. For Leo to proudly take credit for punching Draxum right in the eye.

He’s not expecting Leo to flinch and look away. “I thought he was better at dodging than that,” he says.

Raph falters, not sure how to respond. He knows Leo; his little brother would never hit anyone for no reason, even someone like Baron Draxum. Leo might playfight, Leo might even throw things at them from time to time, but he never aimed to hurt, only to irritate. 

Once again, Raph doesn’t know the right way to approach this situation. Should he try to talk to Leo about this? Is he the right person to try? Would Leo even want to hear it from Raph, who so often struggles with his own anger responses?

(He thinks about the fight again, and feels a rush of shame.)

He’s still trying to work it out when Leo changes the subject.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Leo picks at some fuzz on his sheets. “About the chips.”

That’s something else Raph has been trying to figure out. But now, for this question at least, he has an answer.

“They didn’t have anyone’s name on ‘em.”

Leo’s fingers pause. “But you know I’m not supposed to eat those.”

“Yeah, well… I still wasn’t gonna tell. Raph’s not a snitch.” He shrugs. “Look, I know Barry’s right and you gotta be careful about what you eat so you don’t get sick. But this is still your house, Leo. We agreed a long time ago that unless food has someone’s name on it, it’s fair game.”

Leo actually smiles just a little at that, and Raph feels his heart leap at the sight. It’s not quite a full, big Leo smile, but it’s something. “And sometimes the name doesn’t stop us.”

Raph laughs. “That’s just because I got three little brothers who are a pain in the shell.” He reaches out to rub Leo’s head, and is a little surprised and a lot pleased when Leo doesn’t duck it. 

(It wraps around to concern again, when Leo seems to chase the touch like he’ll drown without it.)

“Listen,” he says, “Draxum gives you any more trouble and you just come tell me, okay? I’ll deal with it. We’ll get it worked out.” He moves his hand down to scratch the ridge of Leo’s shell, right where he can’t easily reach himself. “Raph’s got your back.”

Leo goes tense under his fingers, and Raph thinks he’s said something wrong. But the soft little, “Oh,” Leo says after isn’t upset. It’s just… surprised.

But why would he be surprised by that?

But when Raph thinks about it… when’s the last time he told Leo that? When’s the last time he felt like Leo had his back, too?

Somewhere along the way, he and Leo lost what made them them. Best friends, friendly rivals, brothers through thick and thin. It all got swallowed up by their fights and disagreements. And then Leo was taken from him.

But Leo isn’t gone. Leo is right here.

And suddenly Raph doesn’t know how he’s made it this long without hugging his little brother. He should have already. That should have been the first thing.

He moves the hand that’s scratching Leo’s shell to more firmly grab his back, watching close to see Leo’s reaction. Leo’s eyes flutter closed, like he feels totally safe, and Raph doesn’t waste the trust that’s been given to him.

He lifts Leo up and pulls him into his lap, wrapping his arms around in the safest bear hug he can give. Leo melts into it, his head leaning against Raph’s plastron, his arm coming up to loosely hook itself around Raph’s neck. 

“I gotcha, Leo,” he promises, cradling him close. “I gotcha.”

“I know,” says Leo, but Raph wonders if he really does. Raph hasn’t done a great job of showing it.

He still doesn’t know his answer. He still feels a stab in his heart when he thinks of Leo saying he did what a hero would. But April was right. Leo doesn’t need big emotional confrontations right now. He needs his big brother.

And Raph can do that. It’s the thing he’s best at.

“Hey,” he says, “wanna come watch Jupiter Jim: Venture to Venus with me?”

Leo opens his eyes to squint up at him. “Dee’ll hate it if he misses the sing-along parts,” he says, but now, finally, a little bit of his mischievousness is back.

Raph grins. “What Donnie doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Leo laughs then, small and tired and hoarse but there. Raph gives him another squeeze, then stands up and takes Leo with him.

He’s still unsettlingly light, like he was when Raph lifted him from the cot. But there’s a little more of him back.

If they get a little more of him every day, eventually, his little brother will truly be home.

-----

Leo stays in his lap for the movie. He makes no attempt to leave and Raph makes no attempt to remove him.

Splinter brings them lunch around the halfway mark: the alphabet soup they bought at the store for Leo, with bread and more banana for after. Leo complains that he’s not a little kid, but out of the corner of his eye Raph catches him industriously fishing around for the letters L, E, and O. He gets a little, self-satisfied smile on his face at his accomplishment, and Raph has to force his eyes to focus on the screen before he squishes Leo like one of his teddy bears.

After lunch, Leo dozes off. It’s not a surprise, especially given how eventful the morning was. Raph’s just glad it’s actual sleep and not that scary, blank-eyed stare he saw Leo with earlier.

Raph stays there after his arms fall asleep, after the movie ends, after he hears Donnie and Mikey come home (together, at least). He’d stay there all night, but Splinter comes in and puts a hand on his arm. He’s carrying a plate with a snack for Leo.

“Draxum wants to talk to you and Purple and Orange.”

Raph looks at Leo, still curled up against him, and shakes his head. “I don’t wanna leave him.”

“It’s alright. I will be here with him.” Splinter pats his arm again. “Take a break and stretch. You can sit with him after you’re done.”

Reluctantly, Raph gets up. He shifts Leo to the chair as carefully as he can (Leo murmurs in his sleep but doesn’t wake), then looks back at Splinter.

“You’ll be here when he wakes up, right?” he asks again.

(Maybe he’s still a little mad.)

“Yes,” Splinter promises. “I’ll be here.”

So Raph leaves. He shakes out his arms and legs, stiff from holding Leo, then swings by the bathroom before making his way to the kitchen. He can hear Mikey there already.

“-tell us what happened,” Mikey is saying, standing with his arms crossed and face angry. This is the most frustrated Raph can remember seeing Mikey act toward Draxum. Beside him, Donnie looks equally agitated.

“I have told your father what happened,” says Draxum, looking much more calm by comparison, “and we have agreed to maintain Leonardo’s privacy for now.”

“Is it about Leo’s privacy or do you think we just don’t deserve to know?” Mikey snaps. Raph knows that tone, and he knows this is about to turn into a fight.

He steps into the middle before it can. “Hold up, Mikey. Let’s hear him out.” His little brother does not seem happy with that, and he opens his mouth to argue, but before he can Raph refocuses on Draxum. “Tell us what’s goin’ on, Barry.”

Draxum’s eyes move slowly between all three of them before landing on Raph. “As I was telling your brothers, Lou Jitsu and I have agreed not to tell you all the details of what happened earlier, primarily because we are not sure how much Leonardo himself is comfortable with you knowing.”

It stings, but Raph knows he’s right. It’s like the security tapes Donnie chose not to watch. They have to let Leo decide how much they know and how much they don’t.

Still, Raph has his concerns. He folds his arms, mimicking his brothers behind him, and stares Draxum down. “Alright,” he says, and ignores the indignant noise Mikey makes behind him, “but did you tell Pops everything?”

“Yes.”

“Everything?”

“Yes,” Draxum repeats. “He needs to know, so we know how to care for Leonardo going forward.”

Raph isn’t as good at reading people as Leo, but it’s not like Draxum is an enigma, either. He doesn’t think the old goat is lying, so Raph relaxes his posture.

“Okay,” he says. “As long as Dad knows.”

“He did something so bad Leo punched him!” Mikey argues. “Leo doesn’t just do that!”

“In his defense,” says Donnie, “Draxum’s face is very punchable.”

Raph snorts at the indignant look Draxum gives that remark.

“Honestly,” says Draxum with a sigh, “all four of you boys are the same… But I can tell you that much.” He looks down, not meeting their eyes now. “I took food from your brother’s hands, before I realized what an error that is.”

All of them stiffen. Behind him, Raph senses Donnie shifting his weight in agitation. 

“You took food from him!?” cries Mikey. He sounds so betrayed. “Why!?”

“I was worried about him making himself sick,” Draxum explains. “But I did not handle it well. I have already apologized to him.”

“You better have!” Ah, there’s Doctor Delicate Touch.

“I have,” Draxum repeats. “And we have reached an understanding… which is what I need to talk to the three of you about.” He looks at them now. “There are going to be some new rules around here, at least for the duration of Leonardo’s recovery.”

“What rules?” asks Raph. “Besides don’t yank food out of Leo’s hands?”

“Well, that is an important one.” Draxum nods. “But we have also decided to adhere to a more strict meal schedule than you do normally. If meals are coming at regular, predictable times, we think this will reduce a lot of stress for Leonardo.”

Raph thinks of the words on the whiteboard. Of the neat rows of numbers. Does Leo wonder when he’ll be fed next? Does it scare him, not knowing?

Doesn’t he know his family would never let him go hungry?

“It makes sense,” says Donnie behind him. “We usually eat whenever we feel like it, but if Leo has to be careful with his diet, having a routine will make it easier.”

If Donnie thinks so, it’s probably right. Raph nods. “Yeah, sure. Whatever we gotta do to help Leo.”

Draxum nods back. “Right now, we’re planning for breakfast at eight, or whenever he wakes up, lunch at noon, and dinner at six. Leo will get regular snacks as well; smaller, more frequent meals are better for him right now than three large ones. Of course, the three of you can still do what you feel like; if you want your own snack, or want to eat later, you can.”

“Let’s all try to eat with Leo,” says Raph, looking back at his brothers. Donnie nods immediately; Mikey hesitates.

“Will Leo be in trouble,” he asks, “if he eats snacks when you didn’t tell him to?”

“No,” says Draxum. “I have already told him this. If he’s hungry, he can eat; he doesn’t need anyone to tell him he can.”

Raph’s glad to hear that; he knows he wouldn’t have been able to play food police. Mikey seems to calm down at this reassurance, too, and he nods.

“Okay. Then, we’re starting tonight? Dinner at six?”

“Yes.” Draxum seems relieved, that Mikey doesn’t look so angry anymore. “You can help me, if you want.”

“Duh,” says Mikey, and Draxum cringes. “I’ll be here!”

He and Donnie leave then; Donnie says he’s going to finish Leo’s curtains, and Mikey goes to his room. Raph hangs back, watching Draxum.

“You sure you didn’t touch him?” he asks, once he’s sure his brothers are out of earshot.

Draxum looks at him, open, not hiding. “I did not. I acted rashly, but I would not lay a hand on him.”

“…Okay. I believe you.” Raph folds his arms. “But if Leo ever tells me anything different, you know what happens next, right?”

“I do. But I would not hurt him.” Draxum looks nonchalant, despite the conversation. “Despite my best efforts, I’ve grown fond of all of you. I’m here to help him.”

Raph can’t help but smile at that. It’s probably as close as Barry will ever get to being affectionate.

“Thanks, then. For all you’re doin’.” Raph turns to leave. “But don’t yank food out of his hands again.”

“I won’t. You have my word.”

Raph decides to take it.

-----

“Blue…? Are you awake?”

Leo blinks his eyes open to find Splinter peering down at him, a plate in his hand. Blearily, he sits up in the recliner. It takes him a moment to realize he’s by himself now - Raph has gone.

It makes him feel a little sad. He knows Raph still has something he wants to yell about, but there for a short while, it was really nice to just be his little brother.

Now his dad is here, with food. Leo remembers the chart Draxum gave him - breakfast, lunch, snack, dinner, snack - and feels his heart relax.

“Hey, Dad. Yeah, I’m awake.”

“Very good. I have brought you some more yogurt and fruit.”

“Yippee,” says Leo, tone flat. “I’m gonna be the most regular guy on the planet after this.”

Splinter laughs at that, and it makes Leo feel a little sense of triumph. “Cherish it while you’re young.”

“Ew, gross,” he says, and Splinter laughs again.

Leo eats his snack. The projector skips on the screen, still on but with nothing set to play. Splinter settles in on the arm of the chair and waits until Leo’s almost done.

Then he says, “Draxum told me what happened earlier.”

Leo goes stiff. He swallows his bite of banana around the knot in his throat. 

“Yeah, he… said he was going to tell you.”

“I’m sorry that he was so harsh with you. You are not in trouble for taking the chips. The food in this lair is as much yours as it is any of ours.”

“I know,” says Leo, even though he’s not sure of anything anymore. But it’s what Splinter wants to hear.

“I won’t be leaving you alone with him again.” Splinter pats his arm. “He may be reformed, but he is still stupid, and not at all fit to take care of children!”

“Which is what makes him perfect for a public school lunchroom,” says Leo, and grins when it gets another laugh out of his dad.

Leo finishes his snack. The projector is still skipping. It makes a little clicking noise every few seconds.

“...Leonardo,” says Splinter, and Leo tenses up again.

“Oh no, full name…”

“You are not in trouble,” says Splinter again. Leo wonders why he keeps saying that. “But I have to ask you this again. When you were… with the EPF. Did anyone touch you in any way?”

Leo stares at him. Why are they having this conversation again?

“No. I told you that, remember?”

“I remember. But I have to make sure.” Splinter puts his hand on Leo’s. Leo stares at it. “Did anyone… make you do something you didn’t want to do?”

“Uh… besides stay there?”

“Leonardo.” Splinter’s tone is not angry, but Leo still winces. “I understand that this is uncomfortable to talk about. But I need to know for your safety. Did any of them do anything to you? Or make you do something to them? To yourself?”

Leo stares at his dad’s hand. He thinks of getting down on his knees and begging.

“...No.” He gives his head a shake. “They didn’t even hit me or anything.” And it’s the truth.

They didn’t really do anything to him at all.

“...Alright.” Splinter leans over and presses a kiss to the top of Leo’s head. Leo keeps his eyes on their hands and listens to the skip of the projector. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He hands the empty plate over and sinks further into the recliner cushions. He wishes the conversation hadn’t curdled the snack in his guts. “Uh, can we… turn on something so the projector isn’t making that sound?”

“Oh, yes!” Splinter sets the plate aside, then grabs for the remote. “It is aaalmost time for Scorpion Treadmill!”

Leo snorts despite himself. “Sure, sounds great.”

Splinter finds the channel and settles into the chair next to Leo. Leo closes his eyes and listens to the Japanese he can barely understand and his dad’s laughter, and tries to ignore the way his own skin feels slimy.

-----

After dinner, and after his snack, Donnie shows him the new curtains.

The new rods are just as makeshift as the ones from the day before, with the same color and the same details. Leo loves them. He tells Donnie so, and Donnie grins big and happy, and Leo feels happy, too, that he can still make at least one brother look like that.

“Oh, I’m so glad you like them!” says Donnie, for what must be the fifth time. “But seriously, if you want me to add some smart tech to them, just say the word.”

“Thanks but no thanks, Dee. I don’t want my curtains to gain sentience on me.”

Donnie pouts, but it’s good natured. He comes over and sits on the bed next to Leo, the two of them looking around his room. It’s crazy to Leo, how different it looks now. Though, maybe the mess is contributing to that feeling…

“It’s so dark in here now,” Donnie observes. His tone is totally neutral in a way Donnie could never hope to fake, so Leo doesn’t take it as a judgment.

Which is good, because Leo doesn’t know how to explain that he likes it that way. That the dark makes him feel calm and safe. Hidden.

“I could always add more lighting,” he says instead. He has his lanterns and a desk lamp, but he has to admit, some things will be harder without the ambient lights from outside.

“Oh, I can do that next!” says Donnie. “What kind of lighting do you want? I can see what I have in the lab-”

“Whoa, hey,” says Leo quickly. He reaches over and flicks Donnie on his big forehead. (It lacks any force, because Leo is still weak, but Donnie says, “Ow!” exaggeratedly anyway.) “I get that you’re trying to help, but you’ve done enough. I know you must have some battleshell or robot or nuclear bomb you’re dying to work on instead.”

Donnie falters at that. He eyes Leo, the same way everyone does lately, like he’s some kind of timebomb that might go off.

“I just want you to be comfortable,” he says.

“What do you mean? I’m super comfy!” Leo waves the sleeve of his hoodie in demonstration. “It’s the lair, Don-ton. Same as always.”

Donnie’s expression goes even flatter. He turns his eyes on the train car walls. “Same as always? It hasn’t even been a year.”

Leo flinches. Right, well… So it’s not the same as ever. But it’s the same as the one he was stolen from, and that’s all that matters, right?

“You know what I mean.” He bumps their shoulders together. “It’s home. It’s where you guys are. I’m totally fine.”

And he means that.

He means it, he means it, he means it.

“...Right.” Donnie is trying to sound like he believes Leo. “Well, if you change your mind about the lighting, you know where to find me.”

“I sure do, hermano.” He bumps their shoulders again. “Thanks, though.”

They sit for a moment in silence. Leo wonders if he should offer a late night movie session, or if he should send Donnie on his way. He’s torn. He doesn’t really want to be alone. But he doesn’t want to bother Donnie more than he already has.

Before he can decide, Donnie’s phone dings. He picks it up and clicks something on his screen.

“What’s up?” asks Leo.

“Oh nothing.” Donnie waves a hand. “Draxum just finally decided to leave. About time…”

“Huh? How do you… know…”

Leo leans over on his shoulder to look, and answers his own question.

Cameras. Of course Donnie has cameras. This one is outside the entrance to the lair from the sewers, and Leo can see Draxum’s retreating back as he heads for the nearest manhole.

“The camera alerts me whenever anyone other than one of the five of us leaves,” Donnie is saying. “It’s part of the security upgrades I’ve been working on.”

“Security upgrades,” Leo repeats, feeling a little faint.

Donnie doesn’t notice, jumping on the chance to infodump. “Yes! I’ve added more cameras, and proximity alarms, and I’ve been working on more upgrades to our trackers, like I told you. Oh, and new security measures for my baby, of course. And once Shelldon’s new body is complete, I’ll integrate him with the system as well, and…”

Donnie’s still talking, but Leo can’t hear it. His eyes are tracking all around his train car - the dark corners, the shelves, the nooks and crannies.

Donnie has cameras all over the lair.

Where are the cameras in here?

-----

For another night in a row, Leo doesn’t sleep.

-----

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A | Part 4 Part B (here) | Part 5 (not out yet)

[mauvecherie-writes]

the morning after: l.hamilton

pairing: lewis hamilton x black!f!reader.

summary: scenes after a wild night.

warning: 18+ mdni, nsfw, no structural plot, sexual scenes, dirty talk.

note: i started this on his birthday, finished this yesterday lol so this is set around his birthday. flashbacks in italics.

w.c: 1.19k

tags: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @hersinsarescarlet @emjayewrites @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @melodicheauxxlovesfood @felicity-x0 @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly

You were sore.

You were so, so sore.

A groan left you as you tried to stretch your limbs. The little light coming into the room caused your eyes to squint as you took in the surroundings.

This wasn’t your hotel room.

The first flash of last night was projected within your mind.

Fuck. Fuuuucccckkkk.

The smell of his cologne wrapped around you - reminding you of whose room you were currently in and who it was you spent the night with. You sat up straight and clasped the sheet close to your naked chest. You were finally able to get a hold of your bearings.

Clothes.

Shoes.

Bottles and glasses.

Furniture.

All disheveled from your feverish tryst.

-

You drunkenly giggled against his lips as you stumbled further into the room. The sounds of the empty champagne bottle rolling on the floor from being kicked by your shuffling feet.

“Sshh.” You placed your finger against his lips as his hands explored the length of your back. “You gotta be quiet.”

“No one is gonna hear you baby, you can be as loud as you want.” He mumbled as he trailed kisses down the curve of your neck as he hooked his fingers beneath the straps of your top.

-

You chewed on your bottom lip as the memories of the previous night beseech you. You could feel the phantom of Lewis’s touch on your body the more you woke up.

One thing was for certain, you needed to leave his room.

The chilly wind drifting into the room from the parted window nipped at your skin as you jumped out of the bed. As you rushed around the room to pick up your belongings, you felt the residing slickness in between your thighs.

-

He stroked your clit faster, pressing onto your bud firmer with each stroke. Your body fell into his, Lewis’s arm secured around your body, pressing your back into his chest with his hand on your chest, rolling your nipple in between his fingers. He enjoyed the way your body shook from the pleasure that he was drawing from it.

Then you tried to grab his hand to stop him. He chuckled against your ear. “Don’t try and fight it baby.” He bit on your earlobe. “Just let it happen.”

-

The first orgasm had rocked your body and he had played you so beautifully. You had tried to give back - it had been his birthday after all - but he wouldn’t allow it. You were his for the night to enjoy.

You zipped up your jeans and haphazardly threw your top back on but your zip was broken. You remember Lewis pushing your top past your hips.

Shit.

And your room was on the other side of the resort too. A good five minute walk - even less if you ran. But you couldn’t walk through the resort like this.

You grabbed his shirt from the floor and put it on and shoved your top into your bag.

The humming of the shower finally stopped.

You halted your actions as you heard Lewis’s movements within the bathroom and soon enough, the door opened. With steam emerging from behind him, he walked out.

You loved the way the towel was wrapped and sitting low on his waist. Skin glistening from the dampness - somehow making his tattoos pop out even more. The marks from your mouth and nails still wore on his skin and the sight made you lick your lips.

“Leaving so soon?” He smirked at you. You were by the door with your braids in a ponytail, bag and shoes in hand with his t-shirt from the previous night on.

“Umm.” You sounded as you tried to recollect your thoughts. “Last night, you told me that you had something planned with your boys. I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“They’re plans for me. They can wait until I’m ready.” He walked towards you and you couldn’t help but let your hands fall beside you.

“Oh.” You mumbled, your cheeks warming slightly causing him to chuckle. Lewis’s hands came to your waist and pulled you closer. His touch triggered another memory.

-

Lewis was above you with his hands on your waist as he thrusted into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your back arched off the bed.

“Fuck you’re so deep.” You gasped as you felt every inch of his thickness slide deep inside and touch parts of yourself that you could never reach. He moved so that your leg was on his shoulder and he was hovering above you. The position shift caused you to lose your breath and immediately tremble as he touched your sweetest spot.

“There it is. That’s the spot huh?” His dark chuckle rang in your ear.

-

Lewis saying your name snapped you back to reality. The way that he was staring down at you made you slightly embarrassed about where your thoughts had been. And from the look in his eyes, it was like he knew it too.

“What are your plans later?” He asked you as his finger traced your jawline. You licked your lips, taking a deep breath as if bracing yourself to gaze into his deep brown eyes.

“Nothing. Me and the girls were just going to chill in the lounge bar by the pool.” You whispered softly as he continued to caress you.

“Good. I’ll meet up with you there then go for dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah.” His lip curled to the side. “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t take you to dinner?”

“The kind of man who fucks me on every surface of his hotel room until his cum is dripping down my thighs.” The vulgarity of your words caused his breath to hitch in his throat. Lewis briefly closed his eyes as if he was remembering the way that he had bent you over the couch in the living room area.

Because you remembered that.

“Let me be a good man to you and take you to dinner.”

“Fine.” You giggled at the strangled tone in his voice. You reached forward to place a kiss on his cheek but Lewis turned his head so his lips brushed over yours. He brushed his nose against yours and you took that as the go ahead. So you gently pressed your lips against his but the soft kiss turned heated.

You softly whimpered into his mouth when his one hand went to the back of your neck and pulled you closer. The sound of your moan spurred him on, leading him to press you into the door. You felt every inch of his rigged body down to his hardening dick against your abdomen.

Your moment was only interrupted by the loud ringing of an alarm. You pulled away from the kiss with a heavy pant of your chest.

“I have to go.” You whispered. “ I need a shower.”

“You could have taken one here.”

“I can’t be around you. I can’t think straight.” Lewis chuckled before he moved away from you.

“Go, I’ll see you at dinner. We’ll continue with this later.”

[delicrieux]

…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆⭒˚.⋆ chapter summary. the fireworks festival.

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader warnings for this chapter. swearing, character death (off screen, dw) wc. 6.3k author’s note. gege deserves to be charged for war crimes for what he's done, but besides that, thank u for reading once again. i really loved writing this story and agonizing about what it would be like to be with our dear satoru. he is, without doubt, a character that deserved so much better. but anyway, thank you again!!!! c u at the end of this xx

ੈ ✩‧₊˚

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | twny masterlist | < back |

CHAPTER 14: you know where to find me & i know where to look

you will not lie and tell yourself that being away from gojo isn’t strange and off-putting, even if you would like to. it’s different when either of you are on a mission, because, theoretically, now you know he’s just on the other side of the wall and you have chosen to not curl up beside him. you have slept alone for a long time, and it had never been an issue until now – there’s no one to be too warm against, no one to hog the sheets, no one to chew on your hair dreaming of something sweet.

the stockholm syndrome really got you, huh?

still, you sleep well. there’s enough space and you awake refreshed, with no limbs tingly or numb, but a bit lonely. the room is too big, and even if the view behind the curtain is nice enough to snap a picture, it’s not as charming without gojo pointing and saying, “heh, look, a bit more rain and it’s gonna be a landslide,” and you, naturally, nodding along, because he must be right.

you dress and douse yourself in a heavy, heavy cloud of the perfume he got you. gojo insisted on this one because he liked the way it smelled, and you are feeling better today and are willing to hear out another heartfelt apology. you are very nice and very merciful and deserve the very best for your endless efforts to steer this relationship into something at least vaguely harmonious.

maybe you can reconcile during a tasty breakfast with a cappuccino syruped with caramel and the foam resembling a cat. yes, you have put the pieces together – normally, you wouldn’t consider yourself a great strategist, but surprisingly, last night you had ran this situation through your head over and over and over again till every possible scenario and an equally possible outcome was engraved into the squiggly lines of your brain. you have never been more prepared for anything in your entirely life.

“i’ve learned my lesson,” are the very first words you hear when you open the door, met with a head hung low and an unhappy gojo satoru.

alright, this you did not anticipate. he looks a bit miserable. gojo always hated the silent treatment or the ignore policy the most, even when he was harassing you for his personal entertainment, but you didn’t think eight hours apart would make him like this. suppose he might not have slept at all; suppose you did leave on a sour note, a small good night and a strained smile he tried to mimic but failed, waiting till you shut the door before heading to his room.

you wonder how long he’s been antsy behind your door, waiting like a lost pet. you decide to assume he just got here instead of thinking of the more likely scenario that he sensed your cursed energy spike once you rolled out of bed and was at attention ever since.

“that’s nice,” you tell him. a soft kiss to his cheek seals the deal for both of you, and an ache you didn’t realize you were suffering from lifts seeing him instantly brighten.

“you smell nice,” he leans in, happily nosing the side of your neck, “and look nice. super nice. hello.”

“hi, good morning.”

“yes,” a toothy smile, and your fingers twining with his, “great, even, actually. didja miss me?”

you will not lie to yourself, but you will lie to him. you shake your head, as though disappointed by such an unfair and silly line of questioning, “it’s barely been a night. i was relieved, if anything.”

he wrinkles his nose, a look that borders on not so playful if taking in the arctic gleam of his eyes, “not funny,” the comedy will have to wait, it seems, he’s serious, “no jokes about that. or separation. ever. you and i are conjoined twins from now on. we could be permanently glues together by my infinity. now that’s an idea.”

a bit too frankensteinian for you, so you have to pass, “let’s leave the morally questionable experiments to shoko, please.”

“if you insist,”

well, now that the apology is out of the way and the awkwardness is cleared, you are prepared for a feast that he will pay for, “let’s go down to eat?”

if it weren’t for the slight downward twitch of the corners of his lips, you might’ve been fooled that all is fine and dandy. apparently, it is not. hesitation, from him, only comes when he’s preparing for something major and likely emotionally taxing. this, on an empty stomach, will not do, but drawing it out isn’t an option, either.

he squeezes your hand before you can come up with an excuse to avoid breakfast or this conversation, as this isn’t going at all like you have pedantically strung together. another squeeze, and you decide to never plan anything ever again, “…can we order room service instead?” he inquires, and you relax a little, glad you won’t have to have this conversation mid-hallway where any other guest could sneak up, “i, uh,” he won’t meet your eyes, “i’d like to talk a bit. first. if that’s okay?”

your insides are twisting into knots – not from the present anxiety but from the honesty in his quiet voice.

“sure,” you settle.

he nods and takes the lead, hand a little sweaty, face a little flustered – all very out of character, but very sweet. you let him drag you the whole of the next door down and you’re graciously let into the spotless, untouched space he had spent the night in. the curtains are open, the bed is pristine, and gojo is never this clean so it can only mean he hasn’t used it. you glance at him with a wordless question but he’s still avoiding your gaze.

has he really agonized over this the whole night? you have, too, a bit, but seemingly not nearly enough. maybe it’s his first time having a fight with someone; maybe it’s his first time being in the wrong and knowing that he is and actually doing something about it. too many maybes. you think he might be just as confused as you.

once the door is shut, he breathes out. perks up, finally, once you’re safely secured in his perimeter. he gestures toward the expanse of the bed, face morphing back into a rather placid expression that betrays nothing but an odd edge that doesn’t manage to leave his eyes entirely.

“after you,” he announces chivalrously. no ulterior motives there.

“uh-huh,” you sound, toeing the slippers off and climbing in. you scoot back till you’re pressed against the pillows, leaving ample space for him to join. he chooses a spot by your thigh, warmth pickling against your skin, and you really do forgive him, you decide, and you would probably forgive him again even he pulled the same stunt at this very moment. no, that is terrible, how has this idiot managed to ensnare you so completely?

once he’s fidgeted enough, he moves onto his next agenda, “the menu,” he pulls out a booklet from the drawer, placing it on your bent knees like a little gift. this all feels vaguely rehearsed, “pick what you want.”

that was always the intention, but you see that he’s trying very hard to work up the courage to something he wants to say, so maybe some good old fashioned enthusiasm from you will help him relax, “alright,” a hum for added measure, “hmmm…. mhmmm…. ooh, pancakes sound nice. like, maybe a mountain of them.”

“yeah?” his chin finds its usual spot on your shoulder, “pick between the triple and a tower.”

the picture showing off the pancake tower does look very impressive, not to mention delicious. however, you aren’t entirely certain you would finish one, as the heading reads over one meter!, which is simply ridiculous. thankfully, you have a man with a black hole for a stomach right next to you, “i’d like a tower.”

“sure, whatever you want.”

“and a cappuccino,” you’re not skimming out on that, even if it’s unlikely the barista will make you cat-shaped foam. maybe you can press gojo to bully them into doing it, but pressing gojo into anything at this moment would likely lead to another disaster, “with a double shot. possibly triple. how many shots do they do?”

“think one’s plenty enough,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. they appear  bit chapped, but nothing you can’t fix, “…can i get a kiss?”

…so much for wanting to talk. this is already familiar. he’s trying to change the subject.

“for good behavior?” you venture coyly, peeling your gaze away from the breakfast details to gauge his expression.

it makes him smile, small and wicked, “yup. best behavior, actually. i said sorry, it counts. right? say yes.”

“mmm,” you manage, thinking up another scheme. you would like to keep this on track. it’s likely he won’t dare to say it again and the implication of it will hang between the two of you until another fight, and another, and it’ll keep stacking up and up and likely higher than the famed pancake tower. his pupils grow larger the longer he waits for your permission. a small sigh, and your nails scratch at the nape, “maybe let’s eat first?”

his gaze flickers for a second, and then he gives you a kind, patient smile, “alright,” because he meant it when he said whatever you want.

“so nice of you,” you praise. his grin shifts. you recognize i – it’s the one he dons when he’s winning.

a quick call to reception, gojo’s back to holding your hand again, softly as not to crowd you. his fingers really are much longer than yours, and he measures them idly, more than used to the sight but still somehow mesmerized by it.

“i don’t like fighting with you,” he starts, voice even, though low, “the rest i don’t really care about, but you,” he tugs on your finger, “you just, doesn’t…” he trails off, confidence shaken by something invisible.

“i don’t like fighting with you either,” you share, hoping it will ease him. it seems to work, but only a little, “it sucks.”

“yeah,” he huffs, “super major sucks,” he draws closer and the mattress shifts. he finds home beside you, head once again nestled into your shoulder, like it’s the safest place on planet earth.

gojo always seeks refuge in physical affection. it’s a way he can express himself without using words. suppose you can pull him into your embrace and calm him like that; suppose he’ll feel a bit braver without your eyes so deeply focused on him, even if there’s always a chance he’ll take the easy way out and refuse to speak at all.

but that’s not what happens, “i just wanted to find a spot where we could watch the stars together.”

“oh,” you utter, unsure what to make of this yet. you are glad he has finally told you, but that still doesn’t explain why he was acting, dare you say, nervous before the argument. there has to be more. there always is, but you will never pry, because it’s painful enough for him already.

“didn’t work out the way i had hoped it would, though,” and now he sounds genuinely sad. a horrible feeling surfaces in you, “but we can still watch them tonight. if you want.”

“i do,” you assure him, “but you have to talk about what’s bothering you. i can’t read your mind.”

“thank god you can’t,” a hollow chuckle follows, “it’s a secret anyway. none of your beeswax.”

impossible, like always, but you wouldn’t really have it any other way. you card your fingers through his hair and he relaxes further, warm breath tickling the side of your neck. a small sigh, this time from him. now that he’s said all that he has wanted to say – which still doesn’t really explain anything, but is more than enough – he can pretend to be an overgrown cat and bask in your affectionate gestures.

it’s going to be okay. you hope he doesn’t see your little smile. lucky.

*

“is this supposed to be a white tiger?” you inquire, holding up a glass phone charm for his inspection. another pale, blue-eyed thing that has caught your fancy. soon, your dorm room will also include a private zoo of all the cute plushies and ornaments you’ve managed to collect with gojo’s money.

“doesn’t have any stripes,” he hums, twisting and turning the vaguely animal-shaped object in his palm. dusk falls on his shoulders, tinting the edges of his hair a soft lilac, “maybe a polar bear?”

suppose it doesn’t really matter, since all charms displayed at this stall look the same, and it surely has nothing to do with the talent of the man that made them. he gazes over them proudly, each sat in a small leather box with a lavish seat, ready to be taken home and hung by the mirror or looped around a cellphone. the monkey ones could maybe resemble monkeys if you squinted and took a lot of creative liberties, and the rest are just shapes with four legs and a snout. oddly cute, in an incompetent, unexplainable way.

“you wanna…?” gojo raises a brow, shades blocking the double-check he no doubt sends you. you nod vigorously.

he has learned his lesson from last time and carries a concerning amount of cash in his wallet. your tiger-bear is placed in its box and then wrapped in a little bow before being hidden in a colorful plastic bag that eventually makes its way to you. you bow in thank you.

the matsuri continues. the winding streets are blocked from traffic yet crowd with too many patrons; gojo pinches your sleeve and tugs when a particularly large wave of people try to separate you. even when they manage, and you’re momentarily disoriented from the sounds and smells and sights, he always manages to spot you first. maybe he just knows where to look.

gojo has changed from his usual garbs into a baby blue yukata. blue really is his color, and he looks so infuriatingly handsome that you have to glare at a sizable amount of people to let them know he is not available to be admired now, or ever, really. you have contemplated buying him a kabuki mask, but even then, his height and broad shoulders – not to mention that unshakable gait and all-over enticing confidence! – would somehow reveal him, and people would still stare or try to grab his attention. perhaps the mystery of the mask would be even more alluring. your hairs stand on end at the thought.

“m?” gojo, never one to miss anything and still latched onto your sleeve, tilts his head, “are you hungry? i sensed murderous intent.”

you hide your lips behind your fan – an expensive trinket gojo insisted to get you since it would match your baby pink yukata. yes, you have come in matching bubble gum ice cream flavors. when your head moves even slightly, the hairpins clink. the sound is light and satisfying, or so he said. you can’t hear it over the noise.

“no, not really,” you say, though the dango stand does look delicious, and the twinkling lights are inviting. your displeased eyes do not leave the group of high school girls donning their flowery yukata and giggling into their kakigori bowls. it is truly a blessing you have been born with a useless amount of cursed energy, because you would definitely use it for evil.

maybe gojo knows, and he graciously steps forward, blocking your sight from the rest of the people. another tug, and you snap into motion.

around you, lanterns sway, alight and warm; they cast low over the sidewalks and shine bright against the cobblestone walkways. in the corners of your vision, the glow swirls into endless rainbow-colored ribbons.

“how good are you at shooting?” he asks.

all dolled up and pretty, you can only clap your lashes  few times at the absurd question, “really well, why?”

“like, a bow or  a gun?”

“does it matter? both require concentration and precision,” you explain, “still, are we planning a heist or something? i don’t have any cursed tools on me,” and while the prospect of danger and adventure is enticing, you really are having fun just being here with him and would rather stay.

“nah, just a bit of friendly competition,” he grins, glasses drooping just enough to catch the mischievous twinkle in his eye, “wanna go against the strongest? you’ll be the only one to that lived to tell the tale.”

wanna do this, wanna do that? want food, a plushie, something absurdly expensive? if you asked for the moon, you wonder if he’d try to retrieve it. perhaps calculate if a missing edge wouldn’t spin the planet out of orbit and bring it back to you as a souvenir.

“i’d like a soda,” you say.

“let’s get you a cola,” he switches directions so quickly you almost collide into an equally mushy couple enjoying their date.

only you and gojo are not a couple, and this is not a date, and each time he recalls an insignificant detail about you and goes out of his way to do something small for you only because he wants to do it, it becomes harder and harder to remember the fact. pretending is awful, and it burns strangely acidic in the back of your throat. but it’s so warm, too, and you want to cling to his arm and press your cheek against his yukata. hide there, in his sleeve, like he always does in the crook of your neck.

gojo wouldn’t mind. once he gets you your tasty drink, you paint a kiss mark on his cheekbone with your lips. it’s faint and pink, glossy against the rose that steadily rises onto his face, and he doesn’t wipe it off, only smiles sheepishly.

eventually, you make it to the shooting range. it’s a large stall decorated with sea creatures and varying shades of purple and blue. you’re handed a large water gun and told to hold till the targets – large jellyfish – fall over, officially earning you a point. depending on the amount of points one receives, one might win a prize, or so the man in a pirate costume explained.

“ready?” gojo asks, fixing his glasses. you’re not sure how serious you should take this. your pride may be on the line, but this game is likely extremely rigged. he’s already the strongest, and whatever he’d receive from the pirate would ultimately make it into your hold without you having to steal or resort to anything desperate, like politely asking.

still, you are a sorcerer. if a friend and colleague is requesting, you must put on a brave front. it is the morally righteous thing to do, after all.

you put your hand on your hip and nod.

the game begins. three seconds into it you realize that the water stream is much too weak for you to successfully take down a significant number in the modest time allocated for this quest. still, you keep going, and several jellyfish fall by your skillful hand and steadfast accuracy.

no matter the physical differences or innate abilities, there should not be a lead in this competition, and if there were to be one, it would be you and your clear head compared to gojo’s impatience and petulant whining. as a matter of fact, he is not whining, nor is he sulking in defeat or trying to sabotage your chances.

he is barely containing his cackle over tightly pressed lips and quivering shoulders, his grip on the plastic so tight the bright red grip cracks a little.

the jellyfish stood in his path to victory keep falling one by one so quickly you take a second glance to ensure he’s not using an actual gun to knock them over. cursed energy permeates in the air like static after a storm, and you sigh, lowering your water gun before the timer’s up.

he's cheating. somehow you didn’t expect this, even if it was obvious from the start. should you scold him and be disappointed, thus ruining the fun for everyone out of principle?

you feel like he’s been through enough. even a fake argument would leave him discontent, and you even more so. besides, you doubt either of you would have won even the most useless trinket if you played fair and square. this you judge from the absolutely aghast expression of the stall’s owner, who might snap his neck at any moment if he keeps swinging it from jellyfish to gojo and back.

the bells chime. the game ends. with trembling hands, the pirate picks up the stuffed animal gojo pointed at and hands it over.

 “there you go,” gojo thrusts the penguin in your arms, and you take it, all fluff and cold seams, “for you.”

“okay,” you concede, cradling the stupid looking bird. it's cute.

you do not miss the owner checking gojo's gun for a malfunction. he does not miss the sly look you send his way before departing.

“where to next?” you can't wait. you have had fizzy drinks, munched on so many yakitori skewers you've lost count, watched a truly horrendous standup comedian and stayed till the end of the performance out of pity, and exchanged three handmade charms for a total of two plushies. your penguin will be named yukihira because that was the name of gojo's pet koi fish.

pet, as in it was in the pond, and gojo liked looking at it the most, hence he named it. there were no pets allowed in the gojo household, or any fun, for that matter. you didn't understand, not entirely, but you wanted to. a lackluster childhood burdened with responsibility so vast and complex it's hardly comprehensible. he wouldn't elaborate further, simply bury his face into the bend of your neck and kiss until the memory had finally, and perfectly, faded from your mind, and you could breathe just a bit easier.

“to sit,” gojo says, indicating the lone bench beneath the awning across the stall, “exhausted. gotta recharge for the next conquest.”

“how dramatic,” you comment, but take his extended arm and accompany him.

together, you remain unbothered, a tiny island amidst a current of shifting yukata, cork shoes, and the occasional colorful sandal. fireflies wink around, chasing each other like sparklers.

gojo fishes out his phone and clicks his tongue, reading the message you know is there. most likely another important thing to deal with. you wish he wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again, but that sounds ridiculous even to you.

“what's up?” you lean your shoulder on his. the penguin sits on your lap, quietly reflecting your somber gaze. it's round, black eyes are welcoming, so you poke its nose.

“nothing,” he decides, waving the thought away, “it can wait, probably.”

you make a face, “that doesn't sound very assuring.”

“unlike some, i have a healthy respect for privacy,” he grins, not taking his eyes off the device even when his tone softens considerably, “i won't interrogate you if you don't want me to. so the same goes for me.”

you snort. that's a lie if you've ever heard one, because he has never shied away of reading your messages along with you or providing helpful responses. still, you won't push. you trust him. if he says it's nothing, it means it's nothing.

a short silence settles. the air feels balmy, and a phantom wind circles you. one of the lanterns has blown out, and a little trail of smoke floats to the sky.

“huh,” you blink, the information suddenly resurfacing in your brain, “the sister event is next week.”

“ugh,” he shoves his phone back into his pocket only so he could rub the disgust off of his face, “don't remind me.”

you grin, “heh, how come? we can just send you alone. we'll win anyway.”

“always gotta do all the work,” he groans, then leans his head back, fixing you with a knowing look from the corner of his eye, “aren't you going to hold my hand?”

“want me to?”

his throat bobs, the simple question alone making his breath stumble as if he was walking down a dark alley, and hearing your voice had given him goosebumps. his voice is steady when he answers, “yeah.”

with one arm securing your precious yukihara, you reach over and take his hand. his larger fingers slide over yours, catching.

“so spoiled,” you tease. he lifts your hand to press his lips to your skin. now it's your heart's turn to waver. his eyes are crinkled happily, the crescent of his smile lighting up in the growing shadows. there's something playful hiding there, too, something secretive that he wouldn't share until he was sure you'd like it, and that patience of his, newfound and endearing, spreads like sweet nectar down your throat and bubbles a giggle.

“yep,” he agrees, so delighted his nose scrunches adorably.

you could stay like this forever, watching and enjoying the thrum and beat of a summer festival. the atmosphere, the laughter and tittering, the low chatter as people find their way from one thing to another. live in this moment, like a firefly caught in a glass jar.

at one point, gojo's cheek rests on your head, and you soak in the warmth. perhaps this is his favorite part. the glow of the lanterns is just the right side of orange and highlights the angles and divots of his face, while his other hand stays coiled around yours, and his thumb rubs small, soothing patterns into your knuckles.

“let's sit it out.”

“hm?”

“the sister exchange event. haibara-kun, nanami-kun, and suguru can participate for us,” you tell him, “we could hide in the clinic with shoko.”

he pulls back from his position, but only so he could survey you properly. his stare is less calculating than it is contemplative. behind his glasses, his eyes are burning quietly. at times, there's something almost solemn glazing over his expression, softening the sharp lines and allowing his features to relax. it makes him seem so much more mature and so unlike himself that you never know how to react.

“can't,” he says with a small sigh, finally coming to stand. he pulls on your hand and you scramble, grappling to keep yukihara from falling along with all of your things, “yaga would definitely beat my ass if i ever tried pulling something. but that doesn't mean i don't want to,” his smile widens, “thank you for the offer, though.”

“wow, a sincere and gracious rejection. thanks, satoru.”

“anytime,” he winks. you flick his forehead.

no pouting this time, though, no furrowed brows or crossed arms. instead, he bites his lower lip and seems to be wrestling with himself not to jump you. he is behaving extremely well by comparison, his touches never bordering on anything even remotely inappropriate for a public settling.

you appreciate the consideration. even despite the crowded space, he is focused solely on you, his finger grazing along your palm, tickling your wrist. if you smile any wider, your cheeks will start hurting. and if he continues looking at you like that over the rim of his sunglasses, your heart will start hurting instead.

“should we head to ashinoko?” you ask, keeping yukihara close, “or will there be too many people there?”

“probably, but it doesn't matter,” he reassures, “we'll find a spot. worst case scenario i'll let you sit on me. my shoulders, to be exact.”

how would you explain the sudden rush of blood to your head? “that won't be necessary...”

“why not? can't get much of a better view. and you get to play with my hair, too,” he tacks on, “or maybe i could hold your legs and give your-”

you take back everything you thought of good behavior and growth as a person, he is nothing but a lewd pest wanting to embarrass you in the middle of a romantic setting, the absolute traitor, and you have half a mind to stomp him to death right then and there. all the private tutors in the world couldn't teach him manners, and no stifling house rules could condition him out of his shit eating grin.

he is terrible, and you like him still, more and more each day. even now, when he looks on the verge of laughing, so pleased to have flustered you, while you try and fail not to panic.

“kidding,” he assures, “mostly. i would, if you asked.”

“satoru, pl-”

“wouldn't even question it.”

“sa-”

“got a list of places i could put my mouth. just say the word.”

you've lost. completely and irrecoverably. your shoulders slump, too tired to continue picking the pieces of your shattered dignity, “yes, yes, i get it. please stop talking.”

he shrugs, unbearably nonchalant considering he basically propositioned to make you cum between fireworks displays, “if you insist.”

unruffled by any objections, like he'd simply whisk you away to somewhere secluded should you demand him to, and it would be so easy. like he's itching for a chance, a sign, a simple smile. like he'd drop to his knees if you only said yes. you're almost appalled by his shamelessness, yet that, unfortunately, is part of his charm as well.

still, what a tease. you wish yukihara wouldn't have to hear such things. your dear penguin doesn't deserve to experience such trauma so early into your care. you are so very sorry.

“then...” you steer the topic back to where it's mostly harmless, not counting his smug look that would haunt you till the end of days, “let's go?”

“okie-dokie.”

you fall back into the crowd and lose all traces of rhythm. children push past you, twittering and shrieking, with their chaperones stumbling after them and rapidly bowing apologies left and right. the ground is smooth beneath your feet, stone flattened in ages by carts and soles alike. the two of you branch off and enter a lesser known forest path to avoid the onslaught of people rushing to see the performance at the hakone shrine before the fireworks.

the change in scenery is instantaneous. the suffocating density of bodies disappears, as well as the oppressive humidity. it's darker without the fairy lights and lampposts, the cicadas overlapping everything else. the air smells like fern, cut grass, and wet tree bark, oddly fresh and cool closer to the lake.

gojo stores his sunglasses into a discreet inner pocket. his eyes glint under a stretch of tree shadow, emitting a faint bluish glow, not bright enough to lighten his features yet remaining ever present. ever so beautiful. the woods seem to sigh around you, branches fluttering nervously above as he leans in, almost a specter.

“what's wrong?” your question brushes against the fringes of his hair.

“you're looking at me funny.”

“i am? sorry.”

“like you have so much you want to say.”

“oh,” you blink, then stare down at your shoes. a fallen maple leaf rustles when you step on it, giving a dry crunch, “not really.”

“yeah, well,” he scratches his cheek, “me too, kinda.”

a soft smile, this time, something private and indulging.

for a while you don't speak, not because you can't think of anything to say, but rather can't choose the right words. none of them seem enough, too sweet or too plain. the small trek through the damp forest path leaves your shoes a bit muddy and the hems of your yukata covered in dry flakes and pine needles, most having already blown away.

you hear it first – the deep, thunderous sounds of drums coming from the direction of the shrine. then, ways down the twisting tree line, you spot dancing lights. closer and closer, and the sounds become powerful enough to shake you, vibrating through the ground up to your legs. you hold on just a bit tighter, and gojo returns the gesture firmly.

he is quiet. his head is bowed, gaze focused ahead and somewhere else at the same time, like he's thinking about other things, which, knowing him, can be anything. he leads you off the path and you follow, passing between the foliage and low hanging branches. the weather grows colder. you're approaching the shore.

finally, the landscape clears. a thin border of black pines separates water from earth. wisteria vines drape over the whole scene like curtains on windows, billowing gently. the noise of the show is still loud and beats to the drum of your heart, each thud somehow too close and too obvious. from here, you can see the massive red torii gate stood in the shallows.

the water sloshes by your feet, and the sandy soil squishes pleasantly. far and wide, there are others waiting, too, all finding their own spots amongst the reeds and gravel. a few lanterns float in the moonlit surface of lake ashinoko, bright and orange, like the ones in the market district, and you watch, captivated, as their reflections spill over the shifting water. the chimes wind up to a symphony. it's beautiful.

gojo tilts his head to you, and his lips move, but you can't hear what he's saying.

“what?” you call, ticking a waiting ear in his direction.

the boom cuts through everything, the flash of gold drowning out his face, and you realize way too late what's happening. the crackle continues, and the air trembles, releasing another burst of fireworks. the light leaves fractals dancing over him, each one landing just so, as if aimed, cascading over his eyelashes.

he repeats the words, and something about his expression makes your heart stutter: longing and apprehension quickly replaced with shyness, almost endearing as he watches you expectantly. the sky glitters around, awash in blues and greens and whites, brilliant enough to blind. you can't look away from him.

he says it again, and again, and again, and you can't read the shape of his mouth because you're too afraid of what you will find there. the drums, the cheers, the changing lights, the words airy against your lips. he kisses you. you understand the phrase now, or you hope that you do, so you tell it back, quietly, so he couldn't hear you either:

“i like you.”

your hand finds purchase on the fabric at his chest. it's tight, and his grip is strong, cradling you with such care you can't help but shiver. each kiss is like that, little sips of air, barely enough to sustain either of you, and then he holds you and you let him, boneless, allowing yourself melt into the sure, enveloping warmth.

the light is dying, and you're dizzy. yukihara sits as a witness between your pounding hearts.

eventually, the display fades away into starlight. you want to say it again, but neither of you are brave enough to do it.

*

gojo: just waved nanamin and haibara bye bye on their mission 4:56pm

gojo: can’t believe you all left me w ijichi ( ⩌'︿'⩌) 4:57pm

you: where’s shoko? 4:57pm

gojo: clinic like a loser i dont wanna go down there lol might catch smth 4:59pm

gojo: when are u coming back 5:00pm

you: i just got here (˶˃⤙˂˶) but probably in a few hours, i won’t stay overnight 5:01pm

gojo: yeah u wont the hell 5:02pm

gojo: my girl gotta get back to me asap ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧waiting impatinetlyyyyyyy 5:03pm

you: omg lol just bumped into some salaryman and he almost knocked me over. i think he was frightened of my poorly concealed weapon and apologized heh 5:05pm

gojo: where is he? give him ur phone i wanna talk 5:05pm

you: he left already, it’s ok 5:05pm

gojo: teleporting rn 5:06pm

you: ? you can’t do long distances stupid 5:06pm

gojo: yeah and he better be grateful that i cant 5:07pm

gojo: r u done yet want u home 5:41pm

gojo: hello? no ‘yes my gorgeous blue eyed king'? rude 5:42pm

gojo: ok it has been an hour im gonna be serious, did you meet another boy or something? cant wait to murder him 6:33pm

gojo: dont tell me you got kidnapped. i will purple the planet 7:01pm

gojo: 10 mins until i start ripping at the seams and go psycho and rip the roof off the entire city. call me rn, and then, when youre done, i'm stealing you away for a month 7:15pm

gojo: ok in a bad mood now 7:46pm

gojo: we’re talking cthulu levels of bad 8:00pm

gojo: would it be dramatic if i were to jump over a cliff 8:10pm

gojo: hi this is principal yaga gojo has jumped to his death please text back and list everything you love and find sexy about him 8:12pm

gojo: ok ur freaking me the fuck out im coming to get u u can cry abt it later and yaga can scream and shit all he wants grade 3s shouldn’t take this long 8:25pm

gojo: gonna text u till you respond, u know that, right? 2:00am

*

MISSION REPORT: 15.08.2009

LEAD ASSIGNED OFFICIAL: YAGA MASAMICHI, 1ST GRADE

SORCERER: KAWAKAMI Y/N, 1ST GRADE

PROBLEM DESCRIPTIONS: 3RD CLASS CURSE CONFIRMED DISPELLING PROCESS (UNKNOWN – FIRST RESPONSE TEAMS)

REPORT REGARDING JOB ACCOMPLISHED: KAWAKAMI LOCATED CURSE SITE (CHICHIBU STATION UNDERGROUND) – SCAN FOR TARGET, CRITICAL INJURY; CURSED INHERITANCE-TYPE SPECIAL GRADE – ATTEMPT AT SEALING PROCESS FAILED, DISEASED APPENDAGES, LIMBS & 80% NECROTISED FLESH - UNKNOWN ANGULATION - TIME OF DEATH, 15.08.2009. 5.13PM.

CURSE CONFIRMED DESTROYED: 15.08.2009, 9.59PM, GOJO SATORU.

DEATH REPORTED: 15.08.2009, 11.03PM, GOJO SATORU. BODY RETRIEVED: 12.15AM, MEDICAL TEAM. FINAL EXAMINATION: 2:02AM, IEIRI SHOKO.

ACCELERATED FUNERAL CEREMONY IN EFFECT AS NEXT OF KIN; NONE.

JOB SOLVED: GOJO SATORU.

MISSION REPORT SUBMITTED: NANAMI KENTO, 18.08.2009.

CLOSED.

author's note:

1) so sorry it was planned from the start 2) i do wonder how long satoru would have really sat there in the ground levels of a train station when the fight was over. he did for an hour, but if he had the time, he would likely have spent more time saying goodbye 3) now u know why the cover image of the masterlist is the specific one where gojo wakes up w tears from a dream he had about his school days

before you lynch me, the technique of our dear reader really was in her lastname - kawakami. i'm a big fan of junji ito, and since there's already a ref in jjk of his manga (uzumaki), i though "huh, it would be sooo cool if the mc had a power like tomie!!!" so i wrote this. i wrote a lot of versions, some were a bit scary, so i scrapped them. tomie kawakami's power is essentially being able to clone and heal herself from a single strand of dna, along with a bunch of disturbing stuff, but that's one of the main components of her power.

so here, i present to you an endless amount of endings (2): a) reader has really died, getou has defected, more nice trauma b) reader has not died and returns at any point after the report is submitted, as per her cool powers. getou still defects im sorry some things are doomed by the narrative

either way, u can't get over something like this. megumi? satoru? suguru? shoko? they could never heal from this, no matter if reader came back or not xx

next time i promise to write something where no one dies and there is a happy ending. but for now, that's all, folks! i love u even tho u probably hate me. that's ok. i, too, am gracious and merciful.

tags (couldn't tag in bold!). @shokosbunny , @jotarohat , @fortunatelyfurrygiver , @alygator77 , @finnydraws , @mastermasterlist1p1 , @eolivy , @letsmyy , @staruus , @k0z3me , @damnshorty , @kaeyakaikai , @n4melesspers0n , @midnightwriter21 , @sillymercury , @byakuya61085 , @stillnotherapy , @mydearchoso , @plutoisaghoul , @byerno6 , @bqvz , @harryzcherry , @noira-l , @your-sleeparalysisdem0n , @satoryaa , @cccandynecklaces , @stuffeddeer , @cherriee-ee , @ducky1232

[sorrowsofsilence]

the bet 2 • bad omens

pairing: all bad omens members x fem!reader

words: 11.4k • masterlist

warnings: 18+, gang bang, voyeurism, fwb and lust, (penetration- pls wrap it b4 u tap it, male!masturbating, male!receiving, fem!receiving, swearing, nicknames: princess, pretty girl, good girl, slight choking), masks, jealousy, you are the bet.

summary: It's time for a new game. who can make you back out first?

note: i mean, there is plot, but this is straight-up filth lmao, i hope you enjoy . I'm so honoured everyone enjoyed part 1 enough to warrant a second one- thank you for the love and patience <3

Disclaimer: This is fiction. This is not real, and I do not know the boys. It is all made up, and I am not implying the boys act the way they do in my stories, in real life, or would do the things in my stories. this is all just for fun! it is fiction!

+

Looking over at Noah, he ran his fingers through the onyx strands with a nervous smile.

“A bet Noah? Really?”

He nodded, and then the bus door opened, revealing the other boys.

They cursed under their breath as you folded your arms, shaking your head in amusement.

“So who won?” You pried, eyes lingering on each of them for a moment.

“Definitely not fucking me,” Matt mumbled, annoyed.

“I don’t think any of us did,” Ruffilo spoke slowly, looking at each of his friends.

Rocking on your toes you chewed back a smile, “Then I bet I can make you do it all over again.”

+++++

Twisting and turning in your bunk that night, you found yourself unable to sleep as thoughts of the boys consumed your mind.

You were nothing more than a pawn in their game- a bet to be wagered.

But did you care?

No, you didn't. That was the strange part that kept you turning in your sheets as your head filled with their laughs, moans, and promises. You were a toy they played with, sure. But you were a game they all wanted to win, a prize they all openly desired; and really, you wanted them too.

Silence filled the bus, the only sound being the soft snores from the bunks around you. It was late and everyone had retreated to their own space after the revelation of the bet. Their faces had been a comical mix of shock and embarrassment when you had boldly challenged them.

Noah's stunned expression, his eyes wide and dark in the dim light of the bus as he stared at you in disbelief. Ruffilo's mouth had formed a small 'o', while Jolly let out a low whistle, his laughter echoing around the confined space. Matt had merely glared at them all before storming off.

Sitting up in your bunk, you ran your hand through your hair, your mind recalling each touch and each moment you shared with them. Jolly’s rough hands against your chin, Folio’s soft lips on your own, Ruffilo’s gentle caresses that sent shivers down along your limbs- and Noah’s unyielding desire that left you panting and lusting for more.

And Matt… Matt hadn't had his turn yet.

Your eyes flickered towards his bunk through the crack of your curtain. The darkness of the bus made it hard to see, but you knew he was there.

The thought of what could be had your heart racing, and your skin tingling with anticipation. You could imagine his strong hands on you, the roughness of his voice whispering your name into the night.

His touch was a mystery, one that ignited your curiosity more than you'd care to admit.

The two of you have always been close, ever since you met and got the job with the crew in the first place. You always thought he was attractive, but never imagined pushing the friendship boundary.

Until now.

His anger and frustration from not being involved in the bet left you chewing on your lip, and shaking your head as you stared up at the ceiling. Was he as invested in you as the others?

With a racing mind again, circling thoughts of what could happen next consumed you; until you heard a string of soft moans from the bunk across from yours.

Startled, you turned your head, listening intently. A whistle of low and hushed pants rang through the hallway as if the person responsible was desperately trying to suppress them.

But there was no mistaking it; those soft moans belonged to Matt.

His name was a whisper in the otherwise silent bus, your heart pounding as you listened to the muffled sounds coming from his bunk. Imagining what he could be doing to himself in the dark left you breathless, your mind fantasizing about touching him- the thrusting of his hips into your hand.

A flush of heat spread through your body at the thought and, before you knew it, you had slipped out of your bunk towards his.

You hesitated for a moment, uncertainty creeping into your mind. But then another moan echoed in the silence, and any doubts evaporated.

Swallowing nervously, you took a deep breath and reached out to pull the curtain of his bunk back slightly. You squinted through the dark, noticing how Matt was lying on his back, one hand hidden under the blanket which moved in an obvious rhythm.

His eyes were squeezed shut, sweat glistening on his forehead in the dim light, while his other hand gripped the edge of his bunk tightly as if trying to anchor himself to reality.

Another moan escaped his lips, and it took every ounce of your self-control not to pounce on him right there. But you were not here to just satisfy your desires; you wanted Matt – needed him – to admit he wanted you too.

“Matt,” Your voice was a whisper, barely audible above the hushed moans escaping from his lips. His eyes shot open at the sound of your voice, surprise and panic quickly replacing the pleasure on his face.

"H-hey, can I help you with something?" He coughed, trying to sound nonchalant even though his voice was strained. He quickly sat up, nervously glancing at your eyes.

You bit your lip, considering your answer. You could turn away right now, pretend you heard nothing, and let it become a secret between the two of you.

But there was a thrill in taking risks, a thrill that made your pulse quicken as you looked at him lying there, clearly aroused.

“No,” you replied, your voice steady even though your heart was hammering in your chest. “I just thought that maybe I could help you with something.”

His eyes grew wide for a split second before he swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. The blonde’s hand stilled under the blanket as he studied your face, trying to determine whether you were serious or not.

Instead, his eyebrows arched at your response, a curious look flashing across his face that quickly turned into understanding.

He reached out to pull you down onto his bunk and you complied with a small smile, sliding in next to him. The heat from his body radiated against your skin, making you shiver with anticipation. His hands danced along the curve of your waist before settling on your hips, pulling you closer.

“You sure?” He asked, his voice just as hushed as yours.

Matt’s ears rang with excitement. He had wanted anything crossing the boundary of friendship with you for the longest time. He had been in it for the long game- which was why it pissed him off that the boys made such a wager without him days ago.

As an answer, you reached out to touch the tent in his blanket, causing a soft gasp to leave his lips at the contact. You felt a rush of heady satisfaction at his sound, and you watched him directly as you nodded.

Your breath hitched at the feel of him hardened against your hand, catching a glimpse of his hooded eyes in the dim light, gaze burning with desire.

That's all it took for you to lose control—the sight of him looking at you that way, the feel of his hands greedily reaching down your waist to begin exploring your body.

In an instant, you were leaning down to kiss him, tasting the sweet desperation in his mouth as he returned your kiss with equal fervour.

His fingers entwined in your hair as the kiss deepened, eliciting a soft moan from your lips that he immediately swallowed.

Matt smiled into your mouth at your response, his touches becoming bolder as the hand on your waist squeezed down your thighs hungrily.

His hands were everywhere—running back up your back as you reached for his erection, gliding the tips of your fingers along his skin before wrapping a hand around him, moving in soft strokes.

"You're playing with fire," Matt murmured, breath hot against your ear.

"Maybe I want to get burned," you replied, taking his lip between your teeth with a teasing tug. His heart pounded harder against his chest, matching the rhythm of yours. God, he had wanted this for so long. And you knew it.

All he could do was groan in response, his body trembling under your touch when your hand began to rotate up and down. His body reacted to every touch, every moan and sigh serving as a testament to the need that built inside him.

You quickened your pace, twisting your wrist with every tug of his cock, reeling at the way his body bucked beneath yours. His fingers were digging into the small of your back as he fought for control.

But you wanted more — more of his sounds, more of his touch, more of him.

Matt tugged at your clothes in a silent plea as you took your fingers into your mouth, lubricating them before pumping him once again.

“Can I touch you?” He whispered through staggered breaths, his lips parted in a desperate pant as his hips rocked into your hand.

“Please,” you responded, shifting your body to lay flat beside him.

Matt watched with hooded eyes as he slipped his fingers between the waistband of your shorts, tugging at the thin fabric that held your desire.

His touch was surprisingly tender as he dipped his hand further, his large hand covering your entire arousal while his thumb brushed over the spot you needed most. An involuntary moan slipped through your lips, making him smile against your neck where he began placing soft but searing kisses.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed against your skin, voice rough with need.

You let out a gasping chuckle at his compliment, a string of whispered words tumbling from your lips, "I could say the same about you." His fingers tightened their grip, a sigh of appreciation escaping him.

Running your thumb across the tip, you smeared his precum along his skin, causing his hips to buck up again.

“Fuck,” he moaned as softly as he could, before sinking his fingers into your core, claiming you as his own with each curl of his knuckles.

A gasp escaped you as you pumped his body faster, allowing him to pleasure you, as you pleasured him.

“Matt,” you breathed out, fingers gripping his shirt for stability when he hit just the right spot.

He pressed harder against you, fingers moving in tantalizing circles that had you writhing beneath him. His name was choked out again and again as he brought you closer to the edge.

Everything was so intense, from his body against yours to the way he was working you with his hand. You could feel your climax building up inside of you and by the way his body tensed against yours; he was close too.

“Faster,” you gasped, pulling him closer with your free hand. His response was immediate, his fingers following your command while his other hand roamed up to cup your chest. The moan that escaped his lips was enough to tell you that he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

Your movements became more erratic, your grip on his erection tightening as you felt your climax building. Matt’s fingers kept moving at a relentless pace, pushing and pulling, sending shockwaves of lust coursing through your body.

His eyes were locked onto yours, watching every change in your expression as he brought you to the edge.

With one last thrust of his fingers and a firm stroke from your hand, you both fell over the edge, cries of pleasure filling the small confines of the bunk. Warm ropes of his cum spilled onto his chest and your hand as he shook beneath you, your legs vibrating from his fingers.

He slipped out of you, causing a whimper to escape your lips, which he caught with his mouth. You combed your fingers through his hair with your free hand, pulling him closer with each breath.

“Holy… shit…” He murmured against your skin, his husky voice filled with awe and satisfaction. You smiled softly, burying your face into his neck as you wrapped your arm around his waist. His heart pounded beneath your ear, matching the frantic beat of your own.

“It’s two in the goddamn morning,” You heard a bitter groan from across the bus.

You both froze, a moment that felt like an eternity, your hearts pounding in sync as your shared body heat radiated onto the threadbare sheets.

"Fuck off, Noah," Matt's voice was muffled against your hair, his designated place of refuge, “and go back to sleep.”

Noah was fuming from his bunk. He knew this was what he signed up for when he agreed to take part in the bet- but what if it was more than that?

How could he feel so angry at the thought of Matt making you cum, just as he did that afternoon?

Noah's frustration took shape in the form of a pillow being hurled in the direction of Matt's bunk, followed by a string of muttered curses that were swallowed by the hum of the bus engine. Noah rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to push away the images that had been imprinted onto his mind.

He tossed and turned on the thin mattress, huffing out a sigh. His mind went back to the look in your eyes when it was his fingers that had you writhing, your soft gasps echoing in his ears throughout the theatre.

And now, with the sounds of Matt’s husky voice whispering praises into your skin still lingering in the air, Noah felt betrayed.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bunk, Noah ran a hand through his messy hair as a surge of jealousy washed through him. His blood boiled as frustration clawed at him.

He decided, then and there, that he wouldn't let anyone win this bet easily.

If it was even a bet anymore.

He glanced over at Jolly's bunk then, an idea forming in his mind. Jolly had always been one who loved chaos- and Noah knew that this was just the kind of chaos Jolly would love to be a part of.

The brunette slipped out from his bunk and made his way over to where Jolly was sleeping, the snores from Ruffilo's and Folio's bunks providing a faint symphony of noise.

He shook Jolly awake, who mumbled a disgruntled curse before cracking an eye open. With a finger to his lips to keep him quiet, the guitarist slowly got up while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Noah told him about his idea and Jolly listened, the spark in his eyes growing brighter with every word. A grin spread on his face as he realized what Noah was proposing.

It was risky, but the thrill that came with it was irresistible.

"I'm in," He whispered back, his voice barely audible over the muffled hum of the bus engine, "I'll get the boys on board too."

+++++

The bus arrived at the venue around 9 am, giving everyone an early start to the day. The first show back after the much-needed break was tonight, and tensions were high as you walked into the living room of the bus.

The first thing you noticed was the asymmetrical line of grins painted on their faces – Jolly, Ruffilo and Folio sat huddled in a corner of the bus, whispering in hushed tones. Noah lounged across from them, eyes glinting with an unspoken challenge as he raked his fingers through his hair.

Something was off, but you couldn’t put a finger on what exactly it was.

“Morning,” you greeted everyone casually, trying to ignore their behaviour. Each of them glanced at you, and their grins only widened as they chorused back a “Good morning” that sounded far too innocent to believe.

With a yawn you shook your head, sitting on the couch and eyes trailed to the singer sitting across from you, nervously darting away when you caught his stare.

“How’d you sleep?”

The accusative tone lingering behind his words made your breath hitch in your throat, face flushing slightly.

“Good,” You mustered as Noah watched you vehemently, raising what appeared to be an annoyed brow. He licked his lips to cover the scoff that left his mouth.

“Sounded good,” He muttered, and you blinked rapidly in response, turning your head to the side as your cheeks warmed.

The bus door opened with a click, and everyone turned to watch Matt appear, two steaming cups of coffee between his hands. His face lit up at the sight of you, eyes soft with an affectionate smile spread across his lips.

“I thought you might want one of these,” he said, walking over and handing you a cup. The rich aroma of the dark liquid made you hum in appreciation; especially because the drink was now a distraction from the eyes of the accusatory brunette.

You took the warm cup in your hands, your lips curving into a contented smile as you thanked him.

Each boy stared with curious eyes, and Jolly watched Noah’s face scrunch in distaste as Matt sat down beside you, his hand instinctively finding your thigh. His touch made sparks dance under your skin, reminding you of the fire that had consumed you hours prior.

Tension hung thick in the air as Noah couldn't help but watch the display of affection between the two of you. His eyes followed Matt's hand as it brushed against yours, his jaw clenching at the obvious intimacy being shared. He could almost see the invisible threads of affection weaving around you, tightening with every whispered word and shared glance; and it made him sick.

With his heart twisting in his chest, a bitter taste grew in his mouth. Part of him had hoped that he would’ve won you over; that his cock pounding into you would’ve convinced you to stay with him.

However, you remained ignorant to Noah’s glare as he pondered, but also Folio’s.

The drummer’s mind had replayed the scene at the aquarium over and over, the feeling of your soft lips against his, and the taste of your body sharp against his tongue. Your laugh echoed in his memory, the smile on your face radiant as you two ran between the fish tanks together.

Now as he saw you entangled in Matt’s arm, he could feel a familiar pang of regret searing through him.

Unlike Noah, he was willing to admit he wanted it to be more than a game.

Ruffilo had also been watching as you and Matt moved together with undeniable synchronicity. His heart thudded in his chest as he saw Matt’s lips draw close to your ear, a secret shared only between the two of you.

This sight had him clenching his fists tighter as he forced himself to focus on the instructions that left the blonde’s mouth.

“Alright everyone,” Matt began, standing up from next to you, “We have a show to prepare for.” His voice was firm and commanding, bringing a sense of normality back to the bus.

This was enough to break the unspoken pressure in the air for a moment, and with a huffed sigh the group scattered, each one talking about different aspects of the show.

“Me and Y/N will start moving the soundboard and equipment into the venue. Meet in the greenroom around 11?” Matt said, manager mode turning on full force.

You nodded, tossing your empty cup into the garbage as you slipped on your shoes and a sweater.

Folio and Ruffilo also nodded, glancing at you briefly as you tugged the fabric over your head, watching you adjust your hair.

God, they thought you were stunning.

Noah found himself standing next to Jolly, who was grinning at him like a Cheshire cat while you and Matt left the bus.

“You think you're ready to shake things up?” Jolly’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it was enough to pull Noah’s attention away from Matt your body as you walked away.

+++++

The rest of the day blurred with rehearsals and sound checks, nerves frayed and tensions high as everyone prepared for the performance. Yet amidst the chaos, Noah remained strangely calm – despite his mind being preoccupied with thoughts of tonight.

The concert started without a hitch, and the crowd roared with excitement as they kicked off with artificial suicide. You stood backstage, watching your boys with admiration as you stood in front of your laptop, sliding through the mix and keeping your earpiece tight against your ear.

Eventually, Matt began signalling intermission, and the boys ran off stage as the lights dimmed and the crowd’s screams echoed between the walls.

“Great job out there, everyone!” Matt was leaning by the curtain, a broad grin plastered on his face as he clapped Jolly and Folio on their sweat-soaked backs. Noah gave him a nod of acknowledgement, barely pausing in his stride as he went to pick up his water bottle from the side of the stage.

The singer’s gaze was distant as he drank from the bottle, and you watched curiously, brows furrowing with worry. Usually, he was more energetic; but something appeared to be eating at him.

Walking over to Noah, you gently tugged at his arm.

“How are you holding up?” you asked, looking up into his strained face. He reached out, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly- fingers burning your skin when he pulled away.

Jolly watched the scene from a distance, his lips pursing anxiously. Noah's eyes flickered to him for a split second, and he saw confirmation in Jolly’s subtle nod.

Taking a deep breath, Noah passed you a curt smile, “Just need some air.”

His gaze lingered on your face for a moment longer before he turned to head for the stage door, “Coming?”

"Sure," you said, following him out the door and into the quiet alleyway behind the venue.

The cool night air was a welcome respite from the stuffiness of the indoor venue, and you found yourself taking in large gulps as if trying to replenish your oxygen supply.

You suddenly felt nervous as he towered above you, chugging water as he stared at the brick wall ahead.

“Do you think you could handle all of us?” Noah asked after a moment of silence.

His words hung in the air, swirling with the surrounding breeze.

"What do you mean?" you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral but curious. Your eyes studied him, searching for any hints in his expression.

Noah turned towards you, his face illuminated by the dim streetlight reflecting off the wet pavement. His multi-faceted eyes bore into yours with a boldness that made you feel like he was peeling back layers of your thoughts and feelings.

"I mean," he began, taking an agonizing step closer to you.

Swallowing, you peered up at him as his hair fell over his eyes, looming over your body.

The proximity made your heart flutter in your chest as he spoke again.

"All five of us?" Noah's voice was barely a whisper now, a low rumble that sent vibrations coursing through your veins, “All at once.”

The pounding of your heart danced against your rib cage, palms turning sweaty as you tried to comprehend what Noah was insinuating. Your eyes flickered up to meet his in confusion.

“In what way?” you managed to get out, breath stuttering with each exhale.

“Want to find out?” he said simply, taking a hand and tucking a piece of hair behind your burning ears.

Before you could process his words further, or come up with a response, Noah's phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled it out and glanced at the screen, expression hardening.

"Showtime," he muttered, tucking the phone back into his pocket, “But when we’re done, I want you to go to the hotel down the street.”

You raised a brow, watching him.

“There’s a room booked under my name,” he continued, unfazed, "Room 407."

Noah’s heart hammered as he bit back a smile. His own body vibrated with nerves as you blinked at him, dumbfounded.

He then turned on his heel, heading back towards the venue.

"Noah, what in the world are you talking about?" You shouted after him, but he just waved over his shoulder as he disappeared back into the buzz and warmth of the concert hall, taking your unanswered questions with him.

Once the concert was over and the crowds began to trickle out, you packed your equipment and headed toward the venue exit. Usually, you’d be met by Matt and the crew to begin cleanup; but none of them were in sight.

With a confused brow, you searched down the halls and to the green room, but again, there was no sign of the boys.

Your mind raced back to Noah’s request and decided to head towards the hotel down the street. The night air had gotten colder, and you felt a stir of anticipation warming you from within.

As you approached the quiet building, you couldn't help but question your decision. Every rational part of you screamed to turn around and forget about Noah's peculiar request. Yet, something inexplicable urged you on. You found yourself standing in front of room 407, body warm and throat tightening.

Taking a deep breath, you slid the card the front desk gave you through the reader, and the tiny light turned green with a click. Pushing open the door, you were met with a dimly lit hotel room that was both quiet yet writhing with energy.

A small gasp left your lips once you noticed the figure looming in the corner; yet as fast as your heart was racing, his was racing ten times faster.

Sitting in a chair across the room sat the silhouette of a Noah, framed by the faint moonlight trickling in from the window behind him. A black ski mask covered his face, adorned with the sigils you were all too familiar with.

“Noah?” You whispered, almost taken aback at the ominous stature as he sat there, fingers lingering on his thighs.

“Not just Noah,” a voice replied from the corner to your left, and you snapped your head to the side, recognizing Matt’s voice.

The blonde emerged from the shadows, also wearing an identical ski mask.

With the closing of the hotel door, you dropped your bag to the floor, nervously crossing your arms below your chest. Before you could ask another question, more figures appeared from beside you.

Folio, Ruffilo, and Jolly each took their places in different parts of the room, all embellished with the same masks. A chill ran down your spine as you glanced at each one of them in turn, their identities concealed yet so obvious.

"No one else makes us feel the way you do," Noah started, his voice rough behind the fabric. He then stood up from the chair, approaching you slowly, each step agonizingly taunting.

All you could do was stand frozen in place, staring up at him while his onyx eyes bore into your own. A small smile twitched on his lips as he reached for your waist, pulling you toward him.

“We made a new bet.”

"New bet?" you echoed, the word a ghost in your throat. The drum of your heart began to ache once Noah didn't answer. Instead, he slid his hand up your back, resting it at the base of your neck while his thumb gently traced patterns on your skin. It was both soothing and terrifying.

Noah leaned closer until his breath fanned against your ear, his warm breath causing your skin to tingle, "We want you," he whispered, voice low but clear.

"All of us."

Drawing in a sharp breath, the confession rang between your ears. The room was silent save for the occasional rustling of clothes or an uneven breath from the boys around you. They were all watching, waiting for your reaction.

Folio stepped forward, sliding past Noah to stand behind you, allowing his own hands to reach for your hips as he pressed against your back.

"The bet is simple," you heard Folio smile, his tone nonchalant as if he wasn't discussing something that had the potential to change everything.

"First to make you back out, wins.”

Noah's hands tightened around the back of your neck as Folio's fingers dug into your hips. Glancing at the other three, all masked figures had an eerie calm to their stances.

"Back out of what?" you whispered as Folio's grip on your waist tightened.

"Us," Matt answered from somewhere to your right, voice surprisingly soft amidst the thick tension brewing in the room.

"No one has ever made us rival against each other," Jolly added, his voice muffled by his mask as he leaned against the distant wall. "We want to see if we could... Well…"

The swede trailed off, and you glanced at him as he smiled, turning to look at Ruffilo.

"Share you," the bassist finished for him, his usual jovial tone replaced with something far more sultry.

Your limbs heated at the implication of their words, abdomen clenching with each promise. Now looking up at the brunette infront of you, the small smile tugging at his lips was devilish and daring.

“Then what do you win?” You asked slowly.

Noah leaned forward, whispering into your ear again, “The right to have you all to themselves for one last night.”

"Noah…" you began, voice trembling. Nerves rushed through you, but somewhere deep inside, you also felt a strange tingle of anticipation as his inked hands roamed across your shoulders.

He silenced you with a thumb on your lips, eyes gleaming darkly under his mask, "That's if they can make you back out," he clarified, not moving away from you.

You took in a shaky breath, the room suddenly too hot even though there were goosebumps on your arms.

"And if I don't back out?" Your voice was barely audible, even to your own ears.

Noah's eyes twinkled in the dim light, and there was a small smirk playing on his lips as he responded, "Then we all win.”

Ruffilo’s earnest eyes flicked between you and the floor, while Matt’s excited smirk was hidden behind his mask. Jolly's stance was curious and daring against the wall, and Folio's possessive grip anchored you to his chest. Noah's gaze was confident and challenging as you licked your dry lips, feeling every single racing beat of your heart rumble in your throat.

"What if I say no?" You asked, a hint of uncertainty evident in your tone, “What if I don’t want to be part of your silly little game anymore?”

"Then you walk out that door, and we pretend this never happened," Noah replied after a moment of silence, his voice surprisingly calm, “We pretend that there was no bet five nights ago. We go back to normal and move on.”

He released his grip on your neck, taking a step back to give you the space you needed.

With a racing mind, you couldn’t help but relish in how each of them made you feel just nights prior.

There would be no going back regardless of what was about to happen- you were theirs.

Each of the boys watched you with quiet anticipation, their hidden faces betraying nothing as their eyes revealed everything.

Fear swirled in your stomach and hitched your breath. But stronger than fear was curiosity, tinged with a strange thrill you couldn't deny.

You turned to look at Noah again, his figure looming dominantly in the dim light.

"Alright," You uttered softly, “bet.”

For a moment, time itself stilled to savor the gravity of your words.

There was no going back.

Noah let out a low chuckle, his eyes closing briefly as he relished the word that sealed your agreement.

"Game on," he drawled, a slow smile spreading across his lips again. His gaze held yours captive, dancing with triumph and anticipation.

"Let's see how long you can last, hmm?" His voice carried a predatory tone as he reached out to gently stroke your cheek, thumb painting circles against your skin.

"Remember," he continued to whisper, his words a soothing melody designed to lull you into a false sense of security, "it can just be a game to you… unless you want it to be something else."

A game with stakes too high for comfort. A game with feelings.

Yet, you found yourself nodding, acknowledging his statement even as your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

Folio's hands tightened on your hips once more, pulling you back against him once Noah nodded.

The drummer’s breath was warm against the back of your neck and he dipped his head down, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear as he murmured his approval, "Such a brave girl."

Noah took a step back to sit in the chair again; ready to watch everything unfold before him.

"So it begins," Matt chimed in, pushing away from the wall he had been leaning against. His eyes roved over you with a sense of newfound curiosity; his fingers twitching as if aching to reach out and touch you. However, he restrained himself, not wanting to appear too eager yet.

Folio spun you around to face him, holding you close against his chest as he chewed back a smile.

“Kiss me,” He whispered, the plea making your legs fall weak.

With a brief nod you leaned into his touch, placing your lips on his in a delicate manner.

Feeling the texture of his lips on yours was like tasting sweet honey, the first brush a featherlight touch. Folio's arms tightened around you and he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss with every exhale. The heat that swelled through your body at his touch made your heart pound harder inside your chest, and your fingers curled themselves into the fabric of his shirt.

Soft sighs filled the room as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Feeling his chuckle vibrate against your lips as you held onto him made you smile; and once his hand inched up your back, stopping just below the curve of your neck to pull you in even closer, you were hooked.

Reaching up you pulled at the fabric of his mask, pushing it just above his lips; before another hand gripped your lower back from behind.

Jolly turned you around as he replaced Folio, and with a wicked smirk he drew you close into his embrace.

“Eager there, are we?”

You watched Nick step back as Jolly tucked your hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek.

"My turn," he murmured against your lips before capturing them hungrily, drinking in the taste of your surprise.

As he drew back, he kept his gaze locked onto yours, fingers continuing to trace idle patterns on your waist.

Matt moved into your line of sight then, a wild look in his eyes as they burned fiercely. He didn't say anything as he reached out to gently tilt your chin upwards. His kiss was softer than Jolly's had been; gentle, almost reverent. It was a contrast to the desperation he showed you the night prior; but it left your body pooling with each swipe of his tongue.

Ruffilo then shifted closer, his fingers twining with yours as he now held you, claiming you as his for the sweet moment of time he was granted with you.

His eyes held an undeniable warmth that flickered with desire and curiosity. Lips were on yours before you could breathe in another shaky breath of anticipation, and he tasted like a promise you weren't sure you could keep, yet yearned for with a deep burning desire. Ruffilo was different from the others; he embraced the intimacy of your shared moment, and in return, elicited a response from you that held more passion than any of the previous kisses.

“Remember that you can always say no tonight,” he whispered against your neck, his teeth grazing teasingly down your skin, “Just say you’re done done, and we forget about everything. That doesn’t mean we win or lose.”

You smiled at his reassurance, allowing your fingers to run up his back toward the base of the mask, tugging at the fabric as you kissed him again.

He hummed as you held him before he leaned his forehead against yours; grey eyes shining with infatuation.

"May I?" He asked, his voice a soft murmur as he pulled you toward the bed by the loop of your jeans. His words were a tender whisper, a question caught in the suspended moment between one breath and the next.

A small nod was your consent, and his lips met yours with an agonizing slowness that made your knees buckle. You allowed him to pull you along, until he sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at you.

"If I win," he began, his voice thick and heavy with emotion, "my prize will be seeing that look in your eyes every time I kiss you.”

You reached down, tempted to pull the fabric from his face to reveal everything he had been wanting to hide- every confession, every affection.

“What if you lose?” You whispered.

Nicholas ran his hands down your arms to squeeze your hands, "Then I get the pleasure of knowing I was part of something that made your heart race and your mind spin," he replied, "Either way, it's a win-win situation for me."

Just as Ruffilo's words settled in your mind, you turned towards the chair where Noah now stood up.

"Didn’t forgot about me princess, did you?"

As he came closer, you admired his tall figure, his smile titilating.

You turned back towards Ruffilo for reassurance, only for him to gently guide you towards Noah. Although every fibre of your being was pulsating with tension, you decided to trust them.

"In the spirit of fairness," Noah began, mirroring Ruffilo's earlier gesture and tilting your chin upwards so that you were looking directly into his eyes, "I think I deserve a kiss too."

With a light nod from you and a teasing smirk from him, his lips found yours. As he kissed you passionately, it was like a dance; his movements precise, his touch intentional. His thumb ran against your jawline as he pulled away slightly, only to claim your lips again with a renewed fervour.

His kiss was a promise, an agreement between two secret conspirators, filled with unspoken words and tender sentiment.

His mouth lingered on yours for a long moment, relishing in the taste of having you all to himself for one last time, before a soft sigh escaped him once he finally pulled away.

Noah then nodded at Ruffilo, who pulled you by the waist of your jeans again until you fell onto his body, lying on top of him above the cotton sheets of the hotel room bed.

Hoisting you up to straddle his waist, you could feel Nicholas’ arousal grow beneath the fabric of his slacks as he pulled you down into a kiss once again.

His hands roved over you, heat radiating from every point of contact. His fingers traced the dip of your waist, skittered up your ribs and rested just beneath the swell of your chest.

You gasped into his mouth, a spark roaming through your abdomen at the intimate contact; but also because you knew each of the boys was watching behind you.

Ruffilo chuckled softly against your mouth before pushing up onto his elbows, flipping you onto your back before settling between the vee of your thighs. The position was intimate, his body caging yours as he leaned down to capture your mouth in another slow, intoxicating kiss. His arousal pressed into your thigh and you couldn't help but press back, a small moan erupting from your lips as friction roared through you.

"You're killing me," He muttered against your lips, before sliding down to kneel beside the bed, pushing your knees apart gently.

Matt moved to stand beside the bed, watching at Ruffilo waited for your knod of approval to unbotton your jeans.

The blonde sat beside you on the bed, hovering over your face to run his fingers along your scalp as Nicholas pulled your jeans down each leg in agonizing slowness.

"This isn't just about us having our turns," Matt murmured, "It's about you too."

Heat pooled within your abdomen as you lay exposed, the thin fabric of your underwear inches from Ruffilo’s mouth.

With an affirmative nod, you found yourself surrendering to their fleeting touches and simmering gazes. Nicholas’s fingers rested tentatively at your hips before his warm hands moved to hook around the waistband of your underwear, thumbs dipping lower to send a jolt of heat crackling through you.

"May I?" He murmured once again, the same question carrying an entirely different weight now.

Your grip on Matt's hand tightened as you nodded, heart pounding in your chest like a wild drum as Nicholas removed the last piece of clothing that separated you from him.

Your breath hitched as he kissed up each leg, a soft gasp escaping from your lips when he ran his tongue over the inside of your thigh. With a whimper and a plea, your back arched off of the bed to prompt him further, and his inked fingers finally slid between the folds of your desire.

“Fuck you’re soaking,” His breathy laugh of complete disbelief made you laugh breathlessly, a sound so hoarse as you rolled your hips into his hand, desperate for more.

As soon at his tongue swiped along your core you moaned, your mouth immedietly swallowed by Matt’s.

It was an odd but intoxicating dance of bodies, hands, mouths and excruciatingly slow movements. Your mind had shut down, and only your senses remained; the feel of Matt’s mouth on yours, Ruffilo’s tongue against your heated core, and the scent of their combined arousal filling the room.

“God,” You whimpered as one of Ruffilo's fingers slipped inside you while he continued to work over your folds with his mouth. Matt’s fingers were buried in your hair, holding onto you as he drank in your cries with each flick of Ruffilo’s tongue.

Nicholas switched to his hand, alternating between stroking and pumping into you exactly how you needed. His other hand went up to clasp onto one of your hands, intertwining your fingers together with a reassuring squeeze. The tension pooled in the pit of your stomach, growing stronger every passing second.

He pulled off of you, standing up while licking his lips greedily as he pulled the mask of his face, tossing it to the floor. You watched with furrowed brows, gasping for air as he smiled down at you, face flushed as his chest heaved.

Staring at him in awe you had no time to transition as Matt then slid down your body, kissing down your chest as he lifted your shirt, replacing Ruffilo between your legs.

"Delicious," Matt murmured against your lower lips once he swiped his tongue into your desire, the vibration eliciting another low moan from your throat. Allowing your hands to reach down you clawed the mask from his face, exposing him as he devoured your body with his mouth.

Jolly now crawled onto the bed, kissing your forehead as he spoke.

"How does it feel pretty girl?"

You could barely think straight, let alone form a coherent answer. All you could manage was a breathless, "Incredible."

"Good," the guitarist murmured, his fingers threading through your hair as he pressed delicate kisses along the column of your throat.

Jolly's other hand found its way to your breasts, cupping one through the thin fabric of your shirt. You squirmed beneath Matt's expert ministrations, Jolly's actions adding fuel to the fire that had been building within you since their sinful game had started.

Tugging at your shirt Jolly got a nod of consent before pulling your shirt off your body, leaving you barely dressed as Matt ate you out in front of them.

Jolly leaned down, his mouth inches away from your ear and whispered words that set your heart racing even faster, "You're so beautiful like this," he husked out, licking down your neck before sucking above your collarbone.

Meanwhile, Matt's tongue never ceased its exploration, lapping at your heat with a piety that left you breathless. He was relentless as he coaxed you towards that peak of pleasure that was just within reach, each stroke of his tongue a promise of pure ecstasy.

“My turn,” Noah murmured above Matt, watching as you squirmed against his mouth, moments away from letting go.

Jolly kissed between your chest as Folio made his way to your other side, taking your lips. Noah began worshiping your desire, his mouth skillful and familiar against your body.

Your legs twitched and jolted as Noah's tongue delved deeper, teasing and tasting with an insatiable hunger. His hands now held your hips in place, refusing to allow you any reprieve from the torturous pleasure he offered.

He played you masterfully, fingers dancing over your sensitive bud while his tongue delved deep inside. The heat in your core coiled tighter and tighter with every pass of Noah's tongue, with every teasing touch of his hand.

The low moan that escaped your lips was quickly swallowed by Folio's own mouth descending onto yours, drinking in your cries as if they were the sweetest wine.

Pulling away from Folio’s lips you sat up, allowing a hand to grip Noah’s mask and hold him against your arousal, rutting your hips into his face.

Noah’s chuckle of satisfaction vibrated against your body and with the final push of his fingers sinking into your core, you let your orgasm take over.

Your body seized with the magnitude of your release, waves of pleasure crashing over you, swallowing you whole.

And as the room spun as ecstasy gripped you, your fingers trembled gainst the fabric that covered Noah’s features while his movements stilled, lapping up in the sweet taste of your completion.

Your groans were loud and unabashed, echoing through the room in a testament to their skill.

Noah pulled away, face slick and eyes shining bright with satisfaction at your condition — sprawled out and panting heavily. He climbed back up your body, hovering above you before leisurely kissing your throat, just above where Jolly marked you.

"Damn," Ruffilo voiced from behind the group, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he watched Matt stand in front of you, tossing his shirt to the floor.

You were breathless as Jolly held your back off the bed, allowing Folio to unclasp your bra and expose your chest.

“You ready?” Matt smiled, tugging his pants down his waist as he brushed past Noah, pushing your knees back into your chest.

With a nod of approval, Matt ran his hand along the path Noah had traced earlier, before settling between your thighs, slipping a condom onto his cock.

Your body felt hypersensitive after the explosion of pleasure moments prior, but when Matt pushed into your body, it felt like starting anew.

"Oh god," you whimpered, feeling him fill you up perfectly as Folio kissed your forehead from above again.

He held himself still a few moments, allowing you to adjust to his size. His hands roamed your curves, fingers ghosting over your sensitive breasts, causing you to squirm and whine in pleasure.

"Easy," Matt whispered, his voice was laced with restrained desire. He slowly began to move inside you, each gentle thrust stealing your breath away.

The sensation of him moving inside you was indescribable; a blend of pain and pleasure that had you arching your back and gasping for more. His pace picked up gradually, matching the rhythm of your own desperate movements.

Jolly held onto your hand as Matt moved deeper into your pussy, taking control of your body. His eyes were filled with an intensity that reflected his own need and despite the vulnerable position you were in, it made you feel cherished, loved.

Meanwhile, Folio has pulled his mask off, lips dragging along your jawline, making their way down your neck and collarbone. Every spot he touched bloomed into an intimate longing that heightened your sensitivity to the ongoing pleasure.

His kisses were gentle, torturously slow; they contrasted starkly with the hard, steady thrusts of Matt's body that pounded into yours.

Ruffilo watched from a safe distance, his eyes dark with hunger as they roamed over your writhing body. It was erotic and raw; seeing Matt claim you in such a way, seeing the primal satisfaction in his eyes, his movements driven by pure lust and carnal need. Nicholas’ pants felt tight as he palmed his arousal between the fabric, aching in urgency for his own release.

Matt groaned above you; his movements becoming more fervent as he drove into you, every thrust bringing him closer to his release. You arched against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, your eyes locked onto his as waves of need crashed through you both.

Noah hovered beside Matt, eyes boring into yours from behind the mask as he leaned down to run his fingers delicately up your side, tracing the curve of your waist and hip as he watched Matt consuming you.

"You look so good underneath him," Noah whispered, before allowing his thumb to caress your clit with fervor.

"Noah," you gasped out, the sudden touch sending another crest of gratification through your overly sensitive body.

He chuckled, leaning between Jolly and Folio to press a kiss to your temple, before continuing his torturous ministrations. All the while, Matt kept up his relentless pace, groaning and grunting as he worked himself towards his climax.

Ruffilo stood beside the bed, his hand now dipping between his waistband as he allowed his cock to spring free from the restraint of his jeans. Your mouth hung open with lust as he wrapped his hand around his erection, pleasuring himself to the sight of you coming undone beneath Matt.

The room filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and moans, of skin hitting against skin in a perfectly timed rhythm; until Matt stilled, fingers digging into your hips as he cried out your name in prayer.

“Fuck,” He groaned, face contorting as he pulled out, the condom filled with his release.

"You did so well," Jolly murmured, kissing your shoulder as Matt collapsed beside you on the bed, panting heavily. You smiled then, admiring the flush of his ears as he heaved in satisfaction as your body jolted from Noah’s continuing touch.

The blondes gaze softened at the sight of you—drenched in sweat, hair splayed out on the bed sheets, and lips swollen from kisses. His hand reached out to brush stray strands of hair from your face, his movements gentle, contrasting sharply with the roughness from before.

"Don't think we’re done yet love," Ruffilo said, his words an assurance of more.

Folio now ripped open a condom, crawling onto the bed as he pulled you into the middle, flipping you onto your stomach.

"Now, it's my turn," he said, voice husky with desire.

Feeling the coolness of the sheets against your heated skin was a relief. You felt Matt gently roll off to the side, his fingers lazily trailing along your spine as Folio positioned himself behind you.

His fingers traced the curve of your backside before pulling your hips upward. The tip of his cock teased your entrance, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Taking hold of your back, he pushed into you slowly, his groans filling the room as he sank deeper.

Behind you, Jolly softly massaged your shoulders, his fingers kneading your tense muscles. His touch was soothing, easing some of the intensity from Folio’s thrusts. On the other side, Noah knelt beside you, his gaze never leaving where Nick and you were joined.

“Fuck,” Folio moaned, spreading your legs apart as you pressed your face into the pillow, a string of cries pushing into the soft fabric.

“You like that Y/N?” Noah whispered from your side. Turning your head you gazed as his lidded eyes flicked between his best friend’s thrusts and your love drunk smile.

“Yes,” you cried, causing Noah to smirk.

"Ah, she likes it," Noah murmured to Folio, words thick with amusement.

Nick responded with a low growl, lost deep in his own pleasure as he drove into your welcoming heat. His hands roamed over your waist and ass, pulling you back onto him with each thrust. His pace quickened, the rhythm becoming wild and unrestrained

"You're going to come again for us, love," Jolly promised, his voice filled with the same intoxicating desire that had been present throughout the night.

Your world spun as the swedes fingers slipped in between your legs between your body and the mattress, finding your swollen clit amidst the sea of pleasure that Folio was causing. Your gasps were swallowed by the pillow as the pleasure built up within you once more.

Folio’s thrusts increased in pace, each one harder and more desperate than the last. His grip on your ass tightened as he drove deeper into you, his cock hitting all the right spots that had you reeling in pleasure.

Another orgasm began rolling in, and once you succumbed, your body shuddered under the onslaught of satisfaction.

Overwhelmed by sensation, Nick groaned behind you, his thrusts slowing as he allowed his climax to consume him, shuddering against your skin.

He collapsed on top of you, heavy breaths fanning against your skin as he struggled to regain his composure. Your body was warm and pliant under him and for a moment, he simply savored the feeling of you pulsating around him.

"That was... fuck," Folio breathed out, pulling out of you carefully.

You exhaled heavily, your limbs raving with disbelief as you sat up, smiling over at Jolly who now ripped off his mask, taking his hand to tug your neck toward him. Planting a gentle kiss on your lips you moaned, relishing in the feeling of his fingers squeezing your neck gently.

"Noah?" You then turned once Jolly pulled away, reaching out for the silent figure still kneeling at the side of the bed.

He glanced up from where his hands had been idly twisting a loose thread on the bedsheets. His eyes were dark and hooded, his jaw clenched as if in thought.

It was the first time you had seen him so quiet, so reflective. He met your gaze, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips as he crawled over to you.

"I'm here," he murmured, his fingers brushing gently over the back of your hand.

You felt your heart swell at the look in his chocolate eyes; it was soft and filled with an emotion you couldn't quite name.

Reaching out with your other hand, you cupped Noah's cheek, pulling him down for a gentle kiss. His lips were warm against yours, the taste of him faint but unmistakable. He responded slowly, letting you control the pace of the kiss. You swapped between him and Jolly for a moment, allowing them to share you briefly before Jolly smiled.

“You’re not done yet, are you princess?”

Shaking you head you smiled up at the swede, allowing him to undress himself before lying on his back, motioning for you to crawl on top of him.

With a faint smirk, you complied, shifting your weight to straddle Jolly's hips. His hands steadied you as you positioned yourself over his erection, the anticipation of his cock making you tremble.

Once you gave him a nod of approval, he started to thrust up into you. His movements were slow and controlled at first but soon picked up the pace. His hands gripped onto your hips, pulling you down harder onto him while Noah continued to watch on the side lines.

Your grip on Jolly tightened, your fingers digging into his chest every time he drove into you. Your sounds of pleasure filled the room, mixing with Jolly's low grunts and Noah's breathy moans as he palmed himself, eyes never leaving the sight of you being taken with such fervor.

Jolly's thumb flicked over your clit, causing a gasp to escape your lips as you locked eyes with him. His gaze held yours for a moment before he stole another deep thrust into you, pulling a sinfully delicious cry from your parted lips.

As your gasps for breath increased, you could feel Noah's gaze on you. It burned into your skin, hotter than any touch, and his silence was unnerving- but you didn't dare to look at him.

Meanwhile, Ruffilo began to trace patterns along your arm, his touch barely there but sending shivers up your spine nonetheless. The intensity of Jolly’s thrusts increased, causing you to cry out as another wave of pleasure washed over you.

"Fuck," Jolly breathed out as he bucked up one last time, holding you down tightly against him as he found release. He leaned forward to take a breast into his mouth, hand holding the back of your neck softly, heartbeat thundering in your ear.

You couldn’t help but smile, sitting up as he softened inside you, before turning to smile at Folio and Matt, who sat watching eagerly, despite their release.

Both boys were erect again, holding their cocks tightly through the show of you being passed between them.

Turning, you watched as Ruffilo stood beside the bed, holding his desire out for you. His hand reached for your chin as he smiled down at you, lidded eyes awaiting for your lips to wrap around him. Jolly’s hands gripped your hips, kneading the skin in encouragement as you sunk your mouth onto Nicholas.

The sensation was an intoxicating mix of control and submission, and you reveled in the power of your position. You held Ruffilo’s gaze as you took him in deeper, your tongue swirling around his length. His approval was palpable in the sharp intake of breath and small hitches of pleasure that sounded from him.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, his praise causing a jolt of pleasure to course through you that had nothing to do with physical touch.

Noah now kneeled on your other side, his hand guiding your chin off of Nick and onto him. You smiled as you pulled off of the drummer, allowing the string of saliva to transfer onto Noah’s cock once you wrapped your lips around him, relishing in the two of them sharing you.

Jolly squirmed beneath you, chuckling at the sight as he held your body against his hips, allowing his fingers to circle your core.

The room was filled with the sounds of harsh breathing and the occasional moan, adding to the sinful atmosphere. Ruffilo watched as you took Noah in your mouth, his eyes never leaving the sight of your lips wrapped around him. His hand rested on your head, tangling in your hair as he guided you up and down his best friend.

Noah let out a low groan as he felt you take him in deeper, his fingers tightening on your shoulder. His hips moved subtly, pushing himself further into your mouth.

The sight of you taking him so eagerly, swallowing him down, had him teetering on the edge.

On the other side, Matt shifted closer to you, his gaze dropping to where Jolly still had his hands on your hips. He reached out, his fingers trailing over your backside before he dipped lower, testing the waters between your legs.

It was almost like he was asking for permission, a silent request that contrasted sharply with the assertive presence of Noah and Jolly.

A soft gasp escaped you as Matt's fingers slipped inside your arousal, his movements slow but insistent. The combination of his touch and Noah's throbbing length filling your mouth proved too much to handle. You whimpered around Noah, your body shuddering as you were pushed closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure once again.

Your hand stroked Ruffilo, the twist and glide of your wrist against his slick length leaving him twitching beneath your hand, holding your arm firmly in place.

"Fuck, just like that," Noah groaned, his hand reaching into your hair as he pushed you further down onto him. You gagged around him, but didn't pull away, the discomfort adding an unexpected edge to your pleasure.

Noah pulled the mask off now, revealing his face that was contorted in pure desire; and you stared up at him eagerly as he fucked your mouth.

Jolly continued to stroke your clit at a maddening pace, his thumb flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves with a precision that had your thighs trembling around him. You squirmed as he pressed against you, while Matt’s fingers twisted and turned inside your core.

"That's it," Jolly murmured as you stilled on top of him. Folio stood on the side, watching as he stroked himself to your pleasure.

Tears streamed down your face as you felt the adoration and desire from each of the members. Ruffilo's intense stare, your lips wrapped around Noah’s member, Folio's throbbing arousal in your hand, Matt's skilled fingers buried inside you, and Jolly's thumb teasing your sensitive spot. They were all in control, dominating you completely.

And yet, you couldn't help but feel like the most powerful person in the room. It was your pleasure they were all focused on, your body they worshipped so eagerly.

"God, can't hold it," Noah groaned out next to you. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, his cock twitching inside your mouth as he released, the roped of cum hitting the back of your throat. He held your head in place, forcing you to swallow down every last drop of him.

Pulling back once Noah had finished, you moved to Ruffilo, your hand wrapped around his length as your lips took him in. He gripped the headboard tightly as he felt your mouth envelop him, and his eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, a soft gasp leaving his lips.

At the same time, Matt continued to play with you from behind, his fingers pumping in and out of you in rhythm with Jolly's thumb on your clit. The sensations had your stomach churning with pleasure, the need for release growing more and more urgent.

"Nicky, I... I'm gonna..." You couldn't finish your sentence, the overwhelming pleasure consuming all of your senses.

Ruffilo nodded, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head.

“let go, princess. Thats a good girl,” he groaned out, his thrusts becoming erratic as he neared his climax.

You whimpered around him as Matt and Jolly’s combined efforts pushed you over the edge. Your body shook around them for the final time, moans muffled by Ruffilo’s cock in your mouth- but they didn't need to hear it to know how hard you were coming.

At the sight of you losing control, Ruffilo clenched his jaw and pushed past the edge, spilling his load into your mouth with a loud groan. You swallowed him down gratefully, sucking gently on his length as he rode out his high, relishing in the taste of both your boys mixed within your saliva.

Once he was spent, Jolly gently lifted you off of him and Matt pulled his fingers out from inside you with a feather-light touch. You were set down on the bed, a sated smile gracing your lips as you took in the sight of each of them, basking in their own afterglow.

Ruffilo was the first to move, crossing the room to the attached bathroom. When he returned, he held a damp cloth in his hand and he approached you slowly, his eyes searching yours for permission. He started to clean you up with the utmost care, free hand grazing your cheek with complete adoration.

Meanwhile, Matt laid down next to you, his fingers tracing lazy circles along your exposed skin- his touch soothing after the intensity.

Jolly propped himself up on an elbow by your other side. His eyes never left you, watching with a soft expression. It was as if he was taking a moment to commit every detail to memory - your flushed face, your hazy eyes, the way you bit your lower lip as Ruffilo gently wiped you clean, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

Noah and Folio joined the others, finding spaces on the bed that allowed each of them to touch some part of you with admiration.

It was a silent reassurance, the quiet promise that they were still there, still with you after everything.

Your heartbeat slowed in your chest as you held onto your boys, your breath slowing as your tired eyes fought to stay awake.

Jolly broke the silence, his voice was low and thick with emotion as he whispered, "You were incredible."

He pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling back to look at you, and his words spurred the others into an affectionate overlay. Matt leaned in to press a lingering kiss against your cheek while Folio left feathery kisses up and down your arm. Noah reached out to brush a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as if he wanted to memorize the feel of your skin. Ruffilo, still holding the cloth, gently wiped a smudge of mascara from under your eye with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

Your eyes met each of theirs in turn, their faces glowing with satisfaction and awe.

And then, just when you thought you couldn't possibly handle any more emotion, Noah’s gaze softened even further as he kissed your cheek.

There was an unspoken plea in his touch - an assurance of protection love.

“You're going to be the death of us,” Noah whispered, holding onto your thigh gently.

Matt laughed softly in the silence, his fingers dancing on your skin, "A hell of a way to go, though," he quipped.

Folio was silent as he traced your collarbone with his fingers, the gentle tickle of his touch making you giggle. He looked up at your laughter, a warm smile spreading across his face as he watched you with reverence.

Each of them seemed to understand that this was something sacred, something that deserved to be protected. And you found comfort in that understanding.

You closed your eyes, melting into the attention they showered upon you.

The satiated glow that encased the room was soothing – it was love and appreciation wrapped around your heart like a warm blanket. Yet there was an underlying charge that tingled beneath your skin, a silent affirmation that this wasn't the end.

Ruffilo discarded the cloth and settled down next to Noah, planting a kiss on your knee before he leaned back against the headboard. His hand found yours and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“So,” you whispered as your eyes lidded with sleep, “Who won the bet?”

The room quieted at your question, each man exchanging looks before they burst into laughter. It was a pleasant sound that echoed in the intimacy of the room.

“I guess we all did,” Ruffilo chuckled.

Noah shook his head and leaned in closer to press a soft kiss to your cheek. "Guess we'll just have to have another round.”

Your chuckle was soft, floating up into the space between you all, "Oh, is that how it is?"

“Seems only fair,” Jolly murmured, his fingers gently playing with your knuckles, running a finger across each one.

Folio let out a laugh, the sound rich and deep, "I'd say it's more than fair," he said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

There was a murmur of agreement among them, followed by another round of laughter. You couldn't help but join in, the infectious sound bubbling up from your chest and spilling past your lips.

"And this time," Matt began, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he looked directly at you, "we'll make sure to keep score."

+++++

tags:

@xxkittenkissesxx @deathblacksmoke @nyxisnotok @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @thefallennightmare

@whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13

@somewhere-diamond @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak

@darkmxgician @sprokat @xserenax-13

@philomenie @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @blend-in-with-the-madness @rumoured-whispers @anything-more-than-human

@blacksoul-2 @sweetwombatpizza

[paulyenvol6]

Bound by Flame (Chapter 5)

Contains: dominant and manipulative Daemon, captivity

Wordcount: ~2.65k

Masterlist of this story

When her eyes snapped open the next morning there was a moment of confusion.

For a brief second Maera didn't know where she was and what had happened but then everything came back to her and the girl would've preferred to stay in the dark about the day before.

It wasn't a nightmare after all. It was her reality from now on and Maera wished she could suffocate herself with her pillow. Although she had slept for many hours she still felt tired and exhausted and so she didn't even think about getting up.

Soon Daemon woke up and stretched his limbs while yawning loudly. Then he drew his attention to his wife and looked into her cold and sad eyes.

"Good morrow. I think something to eat would be appropriate now, right?"

He didn't receive an answer which Daemon noted but he didn't come at her for it. The rogue prince climbed off the bed and got dressed in new robes while Maera found a gown on one of the shelfs. Someone must have brought it to the room while she had slept, a thought that scared even though she thought that the most dangerous person at Dragonstone was probably already sharing her bed.

She glanced over her shoulder, not sure whether she would be granted the chance to dress herself in peace but Daemon didn't give the impression that he would leave her alone any time soon. With shaking hands she pulled the dress over her naked body. It was a simple plain day dress. Nothing too special or glamorous but she didn't mind at all.

Once she was done and turned around she saw that Daemon's eyes had been fixed on her and a cold shiver ran down her spine. Her uncle suddenly took her hand and pulled her with him towards the door.

The breakfast was a quick affair with Maera sitting next to Daemon, her head lowered while chewing on a slice of bread. A friend of her uncle, Ser Ryden, a gold cloak, was seated next to Daemon and fortunately the two of the chatted the whole time so Maera could zone out and sink into sadness again. She had glanced in the mirror before and had noticed deep shadows under her eyes and truthfully she felt exactly like that.

The bread in her mouth was hard and tasted like nothing but Maera wasn't sure if it was actually that horrible or if she merely couldn't enjoy anything on this terrible morning. She sat in silence, had her eyes focused on her plate in front of her and then she was brought back to the present moment when Daemon rested his gaze on her.

"Maera.", he spoke, knowing well that she hadn't followed the friends' previous conversation and she slightly turned to him.

"What?", she hissed, not able to hide her dissatisfaction. He ignored it though.

"Ryden and I are gonna go hunting. We'll be back in the noon and then we can eat together. In the meantime you can go to the library or to the stables or in the gardens. Whatever you'd like to do."

She pushed her chin forward and sulked at him.

"Don't act like I have a choice."

He scoffed and put a hand on her shoulder. "Here at Dragonstone you can do as you like."

Maera turned her attention to the bread in front of her so Daemon let go of her. But instead of leaving, as she had expected him to, he cleared his throat.

"Ryden, leave us please. I'll meet you in front of the castle."

When the sound of the door slamming shut filled the room Daemon observed his niece who had sunken down in her chair and lifted her chin with his finger.

"I think I'll have to make a few things clear, little one.", he started with a low but sharp voice.

"You will stop this sulking now. I'm your husband and though you don't like this union, it is your duty to not only provide me an heir but also to follow my commands and be respectful towards me, does that silly mind of yours understand that? I don't wish to see this stubbornness, this pout on your lips and you refusing everything I tell you to do."

Daemon leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.

"Furthermore… Now that we are already speaking about it, you are not to talk to any male servants or knights, Maera. You are not to go anywhere without asking me for my permission. You will not do anything that I haven't allowed you to do, is that clear?"

She nodded. Not because she was in agreement with Daemon's words but because she couldn't bare another of his lectures. That seemed to be all that he wanted though because he got off his chair.

"I'll be back soon. I've commanded a servant to prepare a bath for you by the way."

Maera didn't even twitch nor did her eyes follow him as Daemon left the room and even once he was gone, the girl spent another 10 minutes sitting in silence.

Outside it had started to rain and so the only sound was the raindrops slamming against the window. For some reason it gave her a little comfort. She almost felt as if the gods weren't indifferent to what had happened. They hadn't been able to stop Daemon from committing these crimes but perhaps they were weeping for her at least? Giving her the least amount of courtesy by pitying her?

~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later the rain had stopped so Maera decided to go outside.

The past hours had been painful and long. She had spent half of it in the library and despite being a passionate reader at that moment she couldn't concentrate on the letters in front of her words and wasn't able to enter that alternative world her book described.

So afterwards she had strolled around the castle but that turned out to be boring as well. All she knew was that she wouldn't take that bath her uncle had suggested because Maera was determined not to do anything that came from his mind.

And then when the sky finally cleared at last and little sun rays peaked from behind the clouds, Maera left the castle and started by circling the masonry. The grass was still wet, she could smell the scent of rain and musk and it was as though the rain had washed away the grime of the world, leaving the place pure and innocent and in its natural essence.

It was refreshing and Maera greedily inhaled the cold air. Being out here was definitely more exciting and healthy for her boiling head than the heaviness of the castle ceilings and soon the girl felt a little more like a human being again. To her misfortune the peace outside the castle walls additionally seemed to force her thoughts to drift to her current situation and Maera couldn't stop her head from thinking about what would happen now.

Her chest tightened because when she looked ahead into her future all she could see was the devil that was Daemon. She was his wife by law and there was nothing she could do about it. If her life wasn't so dear to her she would simply drown herself in the sea. But Maera would fight. She would fight for her freedom and her dignity, though she didn't know how to do that at this moment. On this island Daemon would control her every steps and she was clearly physically inferior to him. Maybe they would some day visit the capital and Maera would then be able to escape from him…?

But who knew what her uncle had in mind and what if he would never let her leave Dragonstone again? But if she could some day get to King's Landing, perhaps her father's guards would protect her from him and fight Daemon when he would intend to take her back to Dragonstone.

Her father… she hadn't even had much time to think about him. Maera asked herself what he was doing right now and how he had reacted when he had found out. She just hoped if he knew about their marriage (which most likely was the case), he didn't assume that she did it willingly. She could only hope that her father had enough trust in her to know that Maera would've never disobeyed her father's wish to marry her to Ser Brandeth and ran off with her uncle.

Thinking of Viserys brought tears to Maera's eyes and she wished for nothing more than his presence. He would be able to handle it, seven hells. He would take her in his arms, embrace her with his warmth and shout at Daemon for what he had done. But would he be able to annul this marriage? That Maera didn't know but she knew that either way, her father would find a way. She wasn't blind to his slight mistrust towards his brother and found that the king most likely wasn't a great supporter of this match in any case.

Even if Daemon hadn't taken her against her will but it had been her wish to wed him, her father would've probably forbidden it. Maera missed him terribly at this moment. And also Aegon and Julvra and even the familiar lords of the small council that often dined with their family. What would she give for any of those people to be here right now…

She felt a breeze on her skin and the salitness of the air on her tongue. Though the rain had stopped the weather was still stirred up as if the trouble had come to an end but it was clear that an even bigger storm would follow. More and more distance grew between the girl and the castle and then Maera was by the beach and she heard the waves crashing down and against the mossy rocks and cliffs that diffused a mouldy smell.

There was a boat dangling by the beach and for a few minutes Maera didn't even really notice its existence until it hit her like a stroke.

A boat.

Gods be damned, how was it possible that she had been staring at it for the last 5 minutes and not realize what she could use it for?

A boat.

A way of fleeing from this place.

Maera hasted to the wooden boat and didn't care about her shoes and feet getting wet as she was wading through the shallow water.

She heard her own heartbeat in her ears and felt so nervous while the boat came closer to her. She could almost touch it now.

But then suddenly she heard a sound behind her and stumbled around. Her heart sank into her legs and the shock made her freeze in her motion.

Daemon, like the devil himself, had approached her on his horse and now that he was in front of her he climbed off it and his face had never looked colder and angrier, a fact that frightened Maera of what was going to happen now.

"You little – "

He swifly walked towards her and then roughly grabbed her upper arm with his iron grip. Maera cried out in pain but knew that every chance of fleeing had just vanished. Daemon dragged his niece with him while cursing sharply.

"Stupid little slut. You think you can escape from me? You can't and you won't. When I came back I saw that you were gone and the servants told me that you had gone on a walk. So I rode out to find you and what awaits me?" He chuckled.

"You trying to flee from me with a fucking boat. From me, your husband. Did I give you any kind of permission? Something I forgot about?"

They were standing in front of his horse now and with one movement Daemon heaved her up so she was sitting on the horse. She tried to squirm from his grip but he quickly mounted the horse as well so he was seated behind his niece and wrapped an arm around her center. While guiding his horse back to the castle Daemon suddenly yanked her hair back, a motion that made his niece whince in pain.

"I think you've not yet understood how this is gonna work, Maera. How dare you trying to leave Dragonstone in secret? Are you so eager to anger me?"

Her eyes flashed and she was still determined not to show any signs of weaknes or regret so the girl continued to hold her chin high while shifting in the saddle in order to get away from his hands.

"Maera!", he hissed and delivered a soft smack to her cheek.

"Fuck you.", she grunted which earned her another slap, a little more forceful than the last one.

That was enough to make her sob and she restlessly squirmed and tried to push him away.

"Do you think this makes me happy, mhm? Having to punish you all the time in order to tame you?", Daemon growled in her ear. "How am I supposed to protect you if you flee from me? How am I supposed to take care of you if you don't fucking trust me?"

They were back at the castle now and Daemon swiftly jumped off his horse and was fast to roughly pull his niece to the ground as well. He was still furious, his eyes glaring at her while he once again dragged her with him inside the castle walls.

"You're leaving me no choice, sweet niece.", he whispered to her while pulling the sobbing girl through the corridors. "If you can't be obedient I have to punish you and make you obedient."

There were in front of their chambers now and Daemon pushed the door open. He shoved his niece inside and towards one of the chairs which made her stumble and she almost fell to the ground. She could barely take hold of the backrest of one of the chairs which stopped her from falling. Maera had no choice but to sit down and look up to her uncle who towered over her. His hand wrapped around her chin which forced her glossy eyes to stay on him as he grinded his teeth.

"Did you really think you'd be able to outsmart me?", her uncle hissed. "Did you really think I'd just let you get away? It won't save you, little pet. Nothing will. You belong by my side and you should better start accepting it."

His hand tightened. "You're mine. You've always been mine, but now nothing will stop me from claiming what's mine because you're my wife."

He finally let go of her and dropped her head almost as if he was disgusted by her. Daemon then slowly walked back and forth in the room without taking his eyes off her.

"Perhaps I've been too hasty and thought I could trust you too early. Right now you're a little beast that refuses to be tamed. But I will succeed, I'm certain. No matter what it takes, I'm sure I'll have my good little kitten soon."

He then stopped and sighed at her. "You will regret this, sweetling. Because I find that I have no other option than to lock you into our chambers."

Maera's face slumped in despair and she begged him with her eyes.

"Please no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to – "

"Spare me, little girl. This is your punishment. I hope you will learn from it. Do something like this again and the it will only get worse for you."

She wanted to intervene, say something else to convince him not to force her to stay in their chambers but Daemon didn't pay any further attention to her.

He just walked to the door and before Maera was able to run and follow him, it had closed and she heard a key turn in the locket.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@smashee0789 @classicsimpforaaronwarner @hangmanscoming @ninihrtss @coffeebooksrain18 @aleemendoza2425-blog

[dejwrld]

⤷‧₊˚ ʚ₊˚‧ ✿ ꒱ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 / a night in vegas for the future married couple shows just how lucky they are to have each other.

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — female reader, her/she pronouns, black reader (with descriptors), influencer!reader, profanity, alcohol usage, mentions of other haikyuu characters, profanity, set in las vegas, alcohol usage, fluff, mentions of drunk ushijima, needy ushijima, comedy, other hq appearances included, oc!best friend for reader, mdni

╰┈➤ song for this part: lucky, jason mraz & colbie caillat

masterlist

Your first night in Las Vegas was spent playing slot machines and staring in shock wondering how a male stripper could fit so much into a G-String. You were getting married soon and the bubbly feeling was finally getting to you now that you laid in bed with your fluffy customized bachelorette robe and were laying in the king-size bed in one of the best suites in the hotel. You knew that your best friend Autumn had an early morning planned for you and others, at nine in the morning—all of you had a spa day filled with massages, pedicures, manicures, and facials, and that would be followed by a nice luxury brunch. Although, your friends probably were in some nightclub drinking and dancing away—you realized that you no longer could hang out like you used to. Retire to your room early just to indulge in room service and the jacuzzi bathtub you had in your room. 

You wondered what your fiancé was doing. Due to the rules of the people who planned all of this, they thought it would have been best to give you guys separate rooms. You didn’t mind that at all, but you knew this was torturous for your Waka. You grabbed your phone to text him, but then you remembered that Tendou had collected his phone before the group parted ways to start their own night of fun. You hoped he was enjoying himself and his last couple of nights as an engaged man. However, you could already imagine that he was ready to go back to his room but Tendou most likely was holding him hostage. As you went to turn the television on, a knock was heard at the door. You assumed it was the room service you ordered, but when you opened the door—there your fiancé stood with some foolish tipsy grin on his face. His face was as red as ever and gosh, you couldn’t even keep a straight face at how he looked at the moment. He looked like he had used the bathroom and forgot to fix his clothes. But it was the fact that he was breathing so harshly as if he ran a marathon that made you chuckle.

“Why aren’t you with your friends?” You snickered as you looked at him. “Your best man put so much into your party and you ditched him. Do they even know you left?” 

Ushijima Wakatoshi didn’t say much as he stepped forward and let his forehead fall upon your shoulders. He took in the sweet scent of the body butters you use, which automatically meant you must have just gotten out of the shower or bath. You heard him let out a sigh before speaking, “I just missed you baby.” he utters in a whisper as if the two of you stood in the strictest library.

“You literally saw me earlier during breakfast and you also FaceTimed me while you were getting ready because you didn’t know what shirt to wear.” You pointed out as you dragged him into your hotel room.

“I know, but I still miss you.” Ushijima’s body plopped down on your bed as he stretched his limbs. “I ran up some flights of stairs to get to you, you know?”

“Waka, why the hell would you do that? They have elevators for that. How much have you been drinking?” You asked as you kneeled down to take off his shoes. 

“I missed the elevator and was too eager to wait for another one.” He answered truthfully as he sat up using his elbows. He chews at his lower lip before speaking again, “I just had a little bit of scotch and some other things the guys I brought. Which I must point out was very expensive. Why is everything so expensive here? And why is everything so loud? Especially those damn slot machines.” He hiccups. 

He just kept going on and on until his eyes glanced around at your hotel room. It was as if he had forgotten what he was talking about in the first place. “Your room looks better than mine.” 

“Really? You should see the view from the balcony.” You sat on the bed and your head motioned to the balcony door that was closed. 

“I want to see,” Ushijima’s voice drags as he glances at the closed door. He blinks a couple times and then looks at you. “I bet the view is amazing.” His words drag off before he sits up. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You sniffled a laugh before standing up to help him take off his clothes but he gently pushed your hands away.

“But this could be the last time we see the Vegas view.” He stands up strolling to the balcony with you not too far behind him because you would hate for your fiancé to go flying over the balcony. 

He inhales sharply before exhaling the Vegas air. Many of the bright lights made the city look beautiful at night. It surely lived up to the lively experience it advertised on the television shows and movies. It wasn’t even the first on your list of where you wanted to go for your bachelorette party—you were thinking something calming and relaxing like Cancun, but Autumn and Tendou had something up their sleeves. Now here you are in Vegas looking at the gorgeous night view from your suite balcony. 

Ushijima's arms are wrapped around your waist before he rests his chin on your shoulder. “I can’t wait to marry you, baby.” He kisses the side of your neck. “I can’t wait to wake up next to you and see that gorgeous smile every morning.” He pecks again. “And I can’t wait for you to have my last name.” 

He lets out a happy sigh before letting his body slump on the chairs that were on the balcony. His eyes scan over your body and his teeth nibble on his lower lip before speaking, “Baby..” His voice came off as a whine and it took you by shock.

Ushijima Wakatoshi whining for you. The roles were always reversed. It was you pouting your lip gloss-covered lips out at him and whining to him about wanting him. 

“Waka…” Your voice trails off as you wiggle out of his grasp to turn to look at him, back against the baluster of the balcony. 

Bold olive-colored eyes stared down at you with some form of hunger you’ve never seen before. Your teeth glided across your lip as you nudged him back into the hotel room just before he leaned down to kiss you. The balcony door closes with a soft thud and you’re pushing him on the bed.

“You’re being quite bold right now.” You noted, this time you helped him remove his clothes. Fingers curled on the fabric of his polo shirt to tug over his head. “Do you think it's the alcohol?” Your perfectly arched eyebrows raise at him in curiosity.

“Maybe,” He hiccups. “I didn’t have that much. You know I’m not much of a drinker.”

That was true, he didn’t drink much so you were positive that three hard drinks would have your fiance's face flush the brightest red and him slurring his words. While neatly putting his clothes with the rest of your dirty clothes. You brought the blanket over his body, completely tucking Ushijima in to rest. “Get some rest, my love. We do have an early brunch tomorrow and Autumn will kill all of us if we’re not on time.” You joked.

You leaned down placing a loving kiss on his forehead, the kiss seemed to be a comforting thing for him as he snuggled further in your bed. 

“Babe..” He whispers as if the two of you resided in the quietest library. “I’m so lucky to be able to be married to you.” His eyes shifted close as if he was going to go to sleep.

“We’re not married just yet, bear.” 

“What?” His eyes shot open as if you’ve just dropped the most shocking news to him. 

“The wedding isn’t until next week.” You reminded him. 

“Oh…” His voice trails off in disappointment. “Well, I can’t wait for you to be my wife.” He sighs happily before his eyes shift close again. 

Your lips parted to respond, but you were met with a snore. Mentally marking down that had to be the quickest you’ve seen Ushijima fall asleep. Usually, you’re the one falling asleep on him since he would stay up watching back some games. But the roles were reversed now as you admired how at peace he was. Admiring how his lips pouted outward just a bit when he was sleeping and sometimes his thick brown eyebrows even crumpled together as if he was in a deep dramatic dream. 

You were so lucky to be his fiance, to be his lover—his soon-to-be wife. 

In the middle of Las Vegas' busiest casino, Tobio Kageyama felt like he had about ten-plus children going through a kid crisis. Tendou was drunkenly crying because they couldn’t find Ushijima, and Kai poorly trying to calm him down because he too had a little too much to drink. Hinata and Atsumu were playing rock paper scissors for their casino winnings (it was only five dollars and forty-five cents). He thought Daichi would be able to help him crowd-control a bunch of volleyball-loving men, but Tobio didn’t even know where Daichi was. He glanced down at his phone for a split second and Daichi and Oikawa were gone.

“So let me get this straight, you guys lost the groom in Las Vegas….” Autumn, who was the best friend of the bride, swirled her straw in her drink trying to sniffle a laugh. “Have you guys tried calling his phone? I don’t think it’s safe for him to be wandering around tipsy in Las Vegas.” 

Tobio holds up Ushijima’s phone and Autumn's plush lips form a straight line before sighing. “Well, you guys better go find him.” 

“What? You’re the maid of honor, I think it’s best if you help us.” Kobio’s blue eyes sparkled with pleads and Autumn shrugged her shoulders.

“I didn’t lose him, you guys did. My best friend is safely in her hotel room getting her beauty sleep for the brunch tomorrow, and Ushijima Wakatoshi better be there next to her at noon, sharp.” Autumn backs up from Tobio to rejoin the girls at the blackjack table they were at.  

And it soon hit him, if Ushijima did walk off by himself—the first person he would go look for is his fiance. That's what Tobio would do if he was in that situation. After he consulted the others about where he was going, the only one who decided to go with him was Tendou. Whose wet cheeks were as red as his buzz cut due to the crying. Tobio’s knuckles knocked on the room door and he could hear some shuffling around behind the closed door. He even could hear a faint, “Waka. Stay in bed, and rest.” 

The door was tugged open and there Tobio’s unsettling thoughts that they may have lost the groom in Las Vegas washed away. His body relaxed as Y/N leaned against the door frame slightly in her pajamas. 

“Missing a groom?” She questioned as her eyebrows raised at the two men in front of her. “He’s going to have one major headache tomorrow, but he’s fine.” She gives the two a smile. “I’m sure he really enjoyed himself tonight-“ her words stop as Tendou loudly sniffles overpower her.

“Are you crying-“ Her question was interrupted by Tendou’s tipsy state waltzing into her room and crashing on the bed, on top of his closest friend while he drunkenly sobbed.

“I thought I lost you, buddy.” His slender fingers caress the top of Ushijima’s head.

“Even though I can feel the room spinning, I know for a fact I don’t want you on top of me like this..Tendou.” 

Tendou sniffles and climbs off his friend. Wet cheeks finally drying up at the sign that his friend was okay. “Why did you walk off? You could have died. Then I would have to marry your fiance.”

“What?”

“Huh? Oh nothing, goodnight Miracle Boy.” Tendou’s voice drags out as he gets dragged by the collar of his jacket by Tobio. 

Even though you can see your fiance’s ears grow red in embarrassment at the nickname he hasn’t heard since he was in high school, a smile crept on his face as the memories unfolded tonight. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi was at peace with the life he had now. He was doing well career wise and he was about to marry the love of his life. 

He was so lucky.

⤷‧₊˚ cuties that wanted to be tagged | @salaciousdoll @honeybleed @cinnamisu @markleedreams @ryukenzz @altdiamonds @peachesncats @starlitsawamura @tetsuskei @nearly-sweet-lisia @threezzyo @pineapplesneedrights @mysteria157

[afewproblems]

Season 2 Halloween AU Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

A very big thank you to @strangersteddierthings for chatting with me today and being such a great sounding board for the next update!

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

***

"So…I have to ask," Eddie blurts out, cutting through the awkward silence that has fallen between them, "how were you gonna pick up your car before you ran into me?"

"I don't think it counts as running into you, if you were waiting for me Munson," Steve side steps the question expertly, flashing him a strange smirk that seems out of place. It falls after a second and twists into something pained.

"I was hoping Nance would take me," Steve says eventually, his voice soft, "which was pretty stupid in hindsight, 'specially cuz she was counting on me to drive her this morning, which--"

Steve cuts himself, snapping his mouth shut with a harsh click of teeth, he shakes his head and lifts his hand to run roughly through his hair.

"Doesn't matter anymore".

Eddie holds his breath, feeling the conversation begin to shift. It's as though he's stepped onto a tightrope and any wrong move could potentially send him over the edge.

He settles for nodding once, turning the key in the ignition.

Steve sighs and lets himself fall back into his seat, "I know you know already, the whole fucking school does, Billy saw to that," Steve gestures to his face, "say what you really want to ask". 

Eddie's fingers tighten around the wheel as he turns them out of the parking lot, fighting the immediate urge to say, 'why did Miss Priss throw it all away?' 

"You think I believe the rumours that come out of that shithole?" Eddie lies, keeping his eyes on the road this time.

He can feel Steve's unimpressed stare as they continue down mainstreet.

"Right, so you had no clue I was in detention?"

Eddie chews the inside of his cheek to fight the sly grin that begins to creep over his face, "Alright smart ass".

He hazards another glance at Steve as they begin to hit the residential area, he looks so different from the night before.

His limbs are loose, tension free, if it weren't for the heavy bags under Steve's eyes and the nervous tap of his fingers on the passenger door, Eddie would think he was finally relaxed.

"I knew a fight definitely happened, it's Hargrove," Eddie says slowly, carefully weighing his words, "but I typically prefer to hear the whole sordid story from the source before I pass any judgements, ya know?" 

Steve doesn't say anything as they continue driving through residential  the houses getting progressively bigger as they go.

"Did you," Steve pauses and breathes out slowly before shaking his head and lifting his face to meet Eddie's gaze, "is that offer for something stronger still open?" 

Eddie smiles, "I think that can be arranged". 

***

Eddie pulls over beside Tina Cline's house, wincing as the right front tire rolls over the curb and bounces the van as it lands on the street once more, startling a snort out of Steve. 

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Harrington," Eddie huffs as Steve shoots him a grin.

"Didn't say a word," Steve hums, unbuckling himself from the seat. Eddie watches as he opens the door and hops out. For a moment Eddie worries Steve will pull the same disappearing act from last night but he simply stops beside his car door and motions for Eddie to roll down his window. 

Eddie cracks his door open instead, "window's broken, what?" 

Steve rolls his eyes, "whatever Munson, you know the way? It's north on 5th and--"

"Then two more rights, yeah man," Eddie says with a laugh in his voice, "I dropped you off remember?" 

"Fuck off," Steve huffs out, he's grinning though.

Steve swings the Beemer’s door open and slides in. He turns on the ignition and flinches at the loud burst of music from the stereo, the volume obviously set from the mood of the previous night. 

'I want to know what love is, I want you to show me--'

Steve slams his hand against the console, cutting off the song with a harsh crack. 

The van is parked just behind the Beemer so Eddie can't see Steve's face, but his head drops down onto the wheel for just the briefest moment before he slowly lifts it, turns on his signal and pulls away from the curb. 

***

Steve beats him to the house.

He's getting out of the car, which is parked on the long driveway as Eddie pulls up to the street. 

Eddie hops out of the van, hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulders, not bothering to lock it. Who would even want his shitty van among the BMWs and Mercedes parked down this street --hell, Eddie could have sworn he saw a Jag three houses down.

Eddie stops short of the lawn. The Harrington house is so different in the light of day, the strange emptiness that seemed to ooze out of the dark windows the night before has disappeared, leaving an ordinary house in its wake. 

"Well?" Steve calls out as he pulls a pair of keys from his back pocket and spins them once on his finger, "you coming or what Munson?" 

Eddie rolls his eyes and jogs to catch up to Steve who turns on his heel to stride up the walk. He stuffs the key into the deadbolt and swings one of the double doors inwards before shucking off his sneakers.

No shoes? Fucking rich people man.

Steve must notice Eddie's expression because he blushes and shrugs, "I know, I know, but my parents will be home for Thanksgiving this year so…may as well…"

He gestures around the sterile foyer with a tight smile, as though it explains everything. 

If anything, Eddie has more questions. 

Steve cuts off the thought by clearing his throat, "we should smoke outside, last thing I need is for you to burn a hole in the couch or something".

Eddie steps over the threshold and has to stop himself from whistling, were the ceilings always this high in this place?

He lifts his foot to unlace his left chuck, snorting at the strange little table in the middle of the foyer. A giant vase sits atop it filled with a mixture of what have to be silk flowers --no way they were real. He pulls the shoe off and tosses it to the side before lifting his right foot. 

Eddie never had the greatest balance so he hops back and forth with his right foot in the air before hopping as close as he can to the wall of the foyer and leaning back against it.

He finally gets the knot in his laces undone and throws the sneaker to the floor, dropping his right foot to the hardwood.

Eddie looks up to find Steve staring with a bemused expression on his face, he ignores the wide hazel eyes and removes the backpack from his shoulders -which can't have been helping the balance issue. 

Eddie unzips the top and yanks out the trusty metal lunchbox, sliding a wicked grin into place.

"You said something about outside?"

***

By the time they've settled, facing one another on a couple of pool loungers, the sun has begun to dip low, painting the patio and empty pool a warm glowing copper. It catches Steve's hair, which shines like gold in the dying sunlight, like some Autumnal Fae King--

Eddie wants to slap himself, suddenly thankful for the November wind that cuts through the backyard, forcing him to chillout.

He picks up the grinder from his lunchbox, unscrewing the cap to open it.

"You good with a joint this evening my good King?" 

He pours a handful of a new strain Rick let him try the other day into the grinder and starts twisting. It's not something he would typically share with anyone other than Jeff, but Steve seemed like he could use something a little more special tonight.

Eddie looks up after a beat of silence, "yo, Major Tom, you with me?" 

Steve's face is pinched, tilted towards the empty pool, "please don't call me that," he says quietly.

"Major Tom?"

Steve raises his eyes to meet Eddie's gaze, his mouth cuts a hard line across his face, the typical easy grin it usually houses is gone. 

"King-Steve," he runs a hand through his hair, letting the fingers linger to grip and pull, "I just, that's not who I am anymore, I don't--"

Steve swallows harshly, "that's all anyone could talk about this morning".

He drops his voice and octave, "oh, King Steve is so pussy whipped he let his girl fuck Jonathan Byers before she dumped him".

"Is that what Hargrove said?" Eddie asks quietly as he pours out a portion of weed onto a paper.

Steve shakes his head, "that was Tommy, but that wasn't why I hit him". 

Eddie nods, and lifts the joint to his mouth to run his tongue along the edge of the paper. Steve watches him from the lounger, his eyes follow the movement before he blinks and continues.

"Tommy and I had been best friends since we were five, he uh, he knows a lot about me," Steve lifts his hand to his mouth and chews the nail of his thumb briefly before dropping it back into his lap.

"Stuff I don't tell anyone, stuff he knows will hurt". 

Eddie nods, twisting the joint closed, he can kind of understand that, although the only person in his life that knew him like that was Wayne.  

And Wayne would never hurt him. 

Did Steve really not have anyone else like that in his life, someone he could tell anything to that wouldn't look at him weird or judge him. Someone safe.

"Anyway, Hargrove started in on me after that, but he's been fucking with me for awhile so," Steve shrugs again, "he saw his big opportunity here".

"Hargrove's been messing with you?" Eddie asks sharply as he pours more weed onto another paper. He lifts it and runs his tongue along the edge of the paper before twisting it into shape. When he looks up, Steve's ears have gone slightly pink and he's sitting strangely, slightly hunched and twisted.

"Yeah," Steve says after a moment, he clears his throat and straightens his back, "yeah, it's just been at practice so far, and I thought it was just because he wanted to one up me for my spot but," he shakes his head, "it's getting worse". 

"You know, I have a bit of a reputation around school," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching as Steve freezes and looks at Eddie with wide eyes.

"The Hellfire club is more than just the game we're playing, it's also kind of a sanctuary for kids that don't have anyone to lean on, we look after each other," Eddie continues, ignoring the way Steve relaxes slightly, "you wouldn't need to play or anything but if you need somewhere to sit at lunch now…" 

Steve looks at Eddie for a long time, his expression blank, guarded, "really? Just like that?" 

"Yeah man, besides I get to use my 'Mean and Scary Guy' persona on these fuckers so it's a win-win for me".

Steve grins, raising one skeptical eyebrow, "mean and scary?"

Eddie bristles a little bit at the questioning tone in Steve's voice and can't quite swallow the urge to snarl, "yeah I mean you looked plenty scared of the town freak yesterday". 

Steve winces and immediately starts to shake his head, inching forward in his seat so he's even closer to Eddie, their knees are almost touching.

"That's not, I wasn't," he stops and takes a deep breath, "I was upset about Nancy and it was so dark outside, the trees--"

"You afraid of the dark Harrington?" Eddie cuts him off, the lingering irritation still simmers in his voice as he coos. 

Steve just looks at him, there's something strange about the haunted expression on his face that makes the hair on the back of Eddie's arms stand on end. 

"Things happen in the dark, in the woods," Steve says softly, his eyes drift to the empty pool again. 

Eddie opens his mouth to ask Steve what the hell he means by that, when a voice shouts across the yard.

"Steve? STEVE?!" 

The sound of someone running through the grass has them both of their feet, the joints forgotten on the pool loungers. 

"Dustin?" 

A kid, he can't be more than twelve or thirteen, skids into the porchlight that has replaced the last copper rays of evening light, the sun fully set by now. The kid's blue eyes are wide underneath a mop of curly hair and hat, he's breathing hard.

"I need your help".

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson

Part Five

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic

[tonightsyanderes]

Yandere Beastman

•Tiger Beastman•

TW: death(not reader), non-con, stalking, I am basing this off of the actual mating habits of a tiger. blood. injury to reader.

Don't like it or if these trigger you please don't read and take care of your mental health. I do NOT support or want anyone in this kind of relationship they are highly toxic and unsafe. I write the stories for entertainment purposes only.

There are not a lot of "Yandere tendencies" in this fic. Just a lot of fucked up stuff.....

Please Enjoy~

The hectic life you had before would be calm compared to the life you have now. Trying to keep yourself level-headed while the world changes around you is hard and mentally draining.

‘Note to self never trust someone that promises it’s a time machine that you’re stepping into. Even if they are… were your best friend.’ You mumble to yourself bitterly about how unfair it was to be stuck somewhere or when with nothing to help you. You heard a rustling of leaves behind you. The wind blew green leaves in your face as the rustling got louder.

You could hear the thud of hooves drawing closer to you. You quickly wiped your face clean and moved behind a tree to hide from whatever was coming. Heartbeat ringing in your ears you try to calm down by breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth. You try not to hold your breath until it gets closer. The thudding grew louder, shaking the ground. A figure ran past you, too quick to see what it was. Two more things ran by the tree you hid behind, you covered your mouth with your hand to muffle your breathing. One of them had antlers… with ears like a deer. Their legs were like a deer too… and with hooves! Where the hell are you?!?

You heard a deep growl in front of the tree. A shrill scream followed by a loud crunch was mere feet from you. Your body couldn’t move. You tried to back away, tried to uncover your mouth, tried anything! But your body refused to listen… The crunching sound was like breaking celery, a crisp crack/crunch. It stopped and you could hear the chewing of something wet and tough. One of those things must have been caught. Whatever caught it could find you too… would it eat you too? You could imagine the way it would tear into you, it would eat you alive. It ate whatever that thing was alive so you could only imagine what you would see as it tears into your stomach as the life drained away from you. The last thing you would remember would be that horrifying scene.

‘I need to get out of here… quietly’ You looked around trying to make less noise than the eating sounds. You tried to turn around when the wind picked up again. Except this time you were upwind from the beast. The sound stopped… not just the eating sounds, all the sounds around you… the birds let long ago, the wind stopped whistling, the river stopped bubbling, and the far-off thudding of hooves was no longer heard. The beating of your heart quicked, it hurt your chest. The chest that you were sure would be ripped open in mere seconds. 

Another growl and you couldn't move again. ‘Not this shit again! I need out of here!!’ Your eyes were restless and you looked around wildly. You can’t hear the soft thuds headed to the tree you hid behind. The way the beast made slow, calculating movements was a sign that it was an apex predator. Nothing scared it. A claw of a tiger stepped out from the other side. It was massive, about the size of your head. You imagined it slicing through your stomach. 

Its head followed soon after, traces of its meal all over its face. It looks almost… human. It, no He turned towards you, and you backed away as his whole body came into view. His face and torso were more human but the rest was like a tiger. His arms and legs were tiger limbs. He had an orange and black tail. Tiger ears on top of his head. He had no clothes on. Blood was caked on him everywhere. The fur on his body became clumped together and dyed red. He continued to growl at you. His teeth were long and the tips were sharp. You backed away from him as much as you could. He glared at you and stepped closer. 

“Get back! I taste bad I promise!” You shout out of fear. In your right mind, you would not be saying something like that. He stopped growling and stayed still. Just looking at you, it was worse than him moving. Staying still made him unpredictable. You crawled away quickly. He didn’t move just stared at you. You stood up slowly and continued to walk backward until you had a few trees between you and him. You sprinted away from the area and towards the sound of the river. 

 You made a small shelter out of fallen branches that leaned against a tree. The river is a small walk from the shelter, fishing got easier with time and practice. You had no idea how to start a fire without a lighter so you go cold most nights. You have seen a few… bloody leftovers of other beasts that left you berries or other foods around your little camp. 

You were trying to catch some fish with your makeshift net. A long-sleeved t-shirt with a stick in the shape of a Y can only do so much. You were so busy focusing on fishing that you didn’t hear the noises behind you. Suddenly you were pushed face-first into the ground. A growl from whatever was holding you made you freeze. It sounded so familiar… so overly terrifying. 

This was it you are going to die… you’re going to be eaten alive by that man-beast thing! A bite on the back of your neck sent pain down your spine. A scream erupted from your mouth as you kicked and grabbed at it from behind you. You heard a chuckle behind you. The claws on the massive paws tore through your clothes with ease. The teeth on the back of your neck never let up. Something wet, slime-y, and hard was pressed into your thighs. He used one hand to bring your hips up, the claws dug into your skin and drew blood. His penis was barbed on one side and painful when he entered you with no preparation. Another scream erupted from you, you tried to fight back even more. Nothing worked as he kept going until he filled you to the brim with his cum. You cried until you passed out, you’d rather be asleep when you die than awake. 

You woke up in a den with the tiger beast beside you. A dead deer beast was in front of him, he was already eating it. You whimpered and he looked over at you. He tore off a leg and tried to hand it to you. You gagged as the limb dripped blood all over the ground. He huffed and walked over to you wagging it in your face. You shook your head and started to kick at him when he came too close. He smirked and showed off his phallus it was hard and pink. 

“No! Not again! Fuck you!” You shouted as he got even closer not bothered by your attempts to hurt him. He opened his mouth his teeth on full display.

“Again! You!” He mimicked your voice almost perfectly. ‘What the hell… how the fuck…’ You couldn’t believe this…

“Mine… mate… season… you fight… you mate now.” He said in broken words. “Kill… others… need… me not… them.” He growled as he walked towards you. Your vision goes black as you pass out from fear. ‘Will I see the light of day again?...’

[jazjelspen]

amor eterno

(miguel and platonic!reader)

(spanglish speaking mexican reader/silly cursing/full sentences in spanish here and there/not proofread/kinda rushed/female reader)

(Happy Father's Day everyone!)

(may make a pt.2 but not sure yet)

(you are Miguel's biological daughter in a different universe and you had to watch your father pass and get buried in your younger years.

you, now an older teenager, have been mastering your spider powers to help the city and your community till all of a sudden you get sucked into another universe where... you see your father again.)

the entire first half of your day was pretty chill as per usual, you just came out of school. you are in a rush inside your home and have been currently getting a few things for your "after school activities". your Tia May always reminding you to stay safe and be careful while Peter, your adoptive brother/guy in the chair, tried to casually dismiss May to let you out faster by asking you to bring him an iced coffee when you get back. once you ran out excusing yourself that you "cannot be late" you then hid behind a secluded alley way to change out of your normie clothes to switch into your spider-themed attire.

It was a normal rest of the day for you, being a crime-fighting spider themed vigilante casually swinging and leaping through your city while taking on a few thieves and even a villain to help your community before resting on top of a roof with a photo of you and your father while munching on a light snack and talking with said photo.

"octo was such a migraine today 'apa.." you scoffed before you took a bite out of your food. "pretty sure I might've broken a small bone or two..somewhere.. but I'm not really sure," you chuckled as you continued "and I know you'd tell me, ten mas cuidado mija, por pendeja te vas a quebrar la cabeza la proxima ves." you spoke as you talked directly to the photo of your smiling dad and you both catching butterflies on a bright sunny day. you imagined what else he'd do right now if he saw and heard you like this, maybe scold you, hug you, curse you out for being reckless then hug you. imagining all this just made you tear up as you stared at his face that you miss seeing everyday, oh how you missed it when he got mad at you. you'd rather him get mad at you a thousand times if it meant to have him back. "I miss you so much.." you let the tears run a bit yet you continued too down your food to calm down the nerves.

after awhile you calmed down and the sun was set with the stars barley getting into view as you peacefully finished the last few chews on your delight whilst enjoying the moment. after crying a bit and relaxing the environment was just so calm and so peaceful in that one second that you even felt as if you were floating, literally. you could practically feel yourself slowly coming off the floor of the roof and your snack basically almost floating out of your han-- oh.

wait.

you are floating.

your eyes then noticed ominous lights of blue, pink,..purple.. and turquoise-- glowing from up above you. 

"ay caray..." you mumbled

you quickly snapped your head to look at the direction of the now glowing portal with black specks now growing in size.. you caught on that this portal was trying to suck you in!

"WHATHEFUCK!!" 

 you immediately shot two spider webs at the ground, one on the floor and one at the photo of your father and you to immediately tuck into your spider outfit to prevent from losing it-- these actions unfortunately forced you to let go of your delicious snack though. you held on as tightly as you could but to no avail your web detached itself from the surface and you were sucked in by the portal with your limbs scrambling to get back out but it closed right in your face. 

as you traveled while screaming your lungs out all you could see was a complete endless void of galaxies and glowing blue constellation-like spiderwebs everywhere, your body continued to be sucked into different directions until you were spit right through another portal.

 it was all incredibly blurry until you noticed you were heading face first into a group of people who all didn't seem to notice you until the last minute.

"AGUAS AGUAS WATCHOUT--" then they all exclaimed in pain with you as you crashed head first into them. as you all groaned while getting up.

"god that hurt.."

"what was that?--"

"seems like it's a spider-person.."

" 'don't seem like someone we have in the society."

you stayed on the ground still trying to process what just happened but once the figures started becoming clearer and your spider senses started tingling like crazy you then immediately scrambled to crawl away after you realized that-- they are all spider people! just like you!

"what the-- who are you people??.. where am I wh--.." you looked at all of them but a girl of fair skin, blue eyes and blonde hair, one side longer and pinker while the other was half shaved, stretched her hand out to you.

"hey hey... I know this might seem confusing--" she spoke "but right now you have nothing to worry, you're in the spider-society!.. so we don't intend to hurt you.."

you hesitantly took her hand as you got up, looking at her and those behind you up and down for any bad intent, which you didn't get but you still wouldn't let your guard down.

"my name is Gwen Stacy, those behind me are Hobie and Pavitr." each name she mentioned either nodded you 'hello', or gave you an exaggerated 'hello' wave.

you let go of her hand and took a step back, you recognized her last name but decided to think nothing of it "my name is _____... where am I?, I know you said the spider-society and clearly there's more than one... me." you sighed "but did I travel into another part of the world or--"

"oh no you're in another universe."

"what."

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it's been a good few yet long minutes being shown around the Spider-Society HQ and you've got to say you were getting along pretty well with these new spiders. You have been chatting with a few other spider people along the way and you were starting to really dig some of these guys, mostly because of the title and job but it was really starting to sink in. there were people out there in the vast multiverse that were just like you, held the same goals as you.. you felt like there really are people out here that are able to understand you the way your father did.

"and that's the lunch room, oh and theres the gym room but for some reason it's name is much longer than necessary since the leader of this whole organization is a bit of a drama queen. for understandable reasons but still it doesn't help much." Gwen spoke exasperatedly while leading you through the halls, Hobie and Pavitr following close behind yet kind of mingling between each other instead.

" tu leader? theres a whole leader to this entire mess?" you asked while widening your arms to emphasize the size of this entire organization.

"you bet, Miguel isn't the easiest person to get along with but he does his job really well in protecting the multiverse and all the worlds that live in it." she shrugged while speaking.

your body froze on the spot, the blonde took a few steps after you before noticing your slight missing presence and looking behind herself to see you with a worried look on her face. "you alright there?.."

"Miguel." you paused "Miguel." you repeated "that's... sorry that's my dad's name." you let out a sigh with an awkward smile "he died when I was younger but-- " you then couldn't help but chuckle slightly in embarrassment "ah, just missing him a lot lately."

Gwen smiled faintly as she walked up to you and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, which you flinched at a bit but relaxed when you saw she was just trying to comfort you.. in her own way. "I'm sure he was a good man, _____. considering how many universes there are I'm sure that in one of them you and him are living happily... somewhere out there."

that phrase gave you a sense of comfort, you smiled and nodded as you gently patted the hand that was on your shoulder.

that was until in the same hand she hand on you her watch shined and emitted a small hologram of a person, a woman. she asked for Gwen and her group to go to Miguel's "office" for an overview of a mission that has to take place.

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you weren't exactly supposed to be there with them but you insisted to join them, using the excuse that you just wanted to know more about this whole society right from the source. but really you just wanted to see how this Miguel person was.

your spidey senses tingled in anticipation as you were expecting a whole different person entirely until you finally looked at the face of the man in front of you, once he turned to look at you and the entire group and all you could do was stare.

as he was speaking he noticed your staring but ignored it trying to get to the point into why he called his most trusted spiders in here. the thing is your staring made him lose focus since your eyes burned into his skull and he forced himself to stop mid convo to look at you face to face.

"what is it kid? what's your problem?" the man who calls himself Miguel O’hara. the same man who raised you but died in front of you. it was as if he was right in front of you back from the dead but just.. in a blue spider-man suit.

in a split second you felt your body just run up to him and hug him. everyone else gasped while you just sobbed and he immediately grabbed your shoulders and pushed you away but he paused while still holding onto you since you called him the word his own little girl used to call him by, " 'apa.. no sabes quanto te extrañé.. te juro que todo este tiempo siempre estoy regresando a la chamba tratando de ayudar a mi communidad y asciendo mucho mas. exactamente como tu me pediste papito..."

the man tensed up and looked at you and utter confusion yet with a mix of hurt just from being called 'apa',

"who are you?" was all he asked.

you wiped off all your running tears before answering "mi nombre es _____ O'hara. y yo vi a mi papa, Miguel O'hara, morir enfrente de mi para que yo podia vivir otra dia mas." you sniffed as you tried to relax "and I became Spider-man to keep his memory alive."

Miguel's eyes seemed to have widened, as if he wasn't sure what to think. his late daughter's name was Gabriella.. not ______.

once the man continued to stare at you in thought you continued to blabber your mouth out "his.. his name was Miguel O'hara." you repeated as you scrambled to get the photo of you and your dad that you held onto just awhile ago and showed it to him, basically presenting it right on his face "he raised me alone after my mother died giving birth to me, he loved empanadas y.. y--"

he gently took in the photo with one hand and the other he continued to hold onto your shoulder. while he stared deeply into the photo he seems to be inspecting it for authenticity. it took a minute of him just looking at you and then the photo and it seemed he recongnized the resemblance of the little kid in the photo to be you. for a split moment it seemed as if he was about to pull you in for a hug until he pushed you further away and letting you go "I'm not your father, kid. he and I might've shared the same name and the same physical features," he gave you a cold and hard look as he carefully returned the photo to you "but I'm not him."

"he's gone."

and just like that he said that one last phrase before he turned to then proceed to ignore you and return to talk to his team, whom were all awkwardly standing there from the scene they just witnessed. he spoke of some mission.. an anomaly.. and who knows what else. all you could think of was how this variation of your father was cold and distant. you hoped for a split second that this variant would at least recognize you, care for you the way your father did. but you should've known better, you know better, that this man was more than right.

he wasn't your father, no matter how many traits, features, or names they shared. you couldn't use this variant of him as a replacement.

not like there was ever a way to replace the man that raised you before May did anyway.

(tried to add some mexican slang and phrases that my family and I use on the daily, as well as trying to make this somewhat relatable to my fellow mexican/americans out there! T-T also sorry if my spanish grammar is a bit weird, not exactly used to writing dialogue in spanish but ill get used to it for sure <3)

[crushpunky]

a cameron family vacation: the beach

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

The rest of the week was a blur of exploring the city, eating incredible food, and, as much as y/n tried to avoid it, falling deeper and deeper in love with Rafe. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to spending so much time with him (it was a rarity more than a day went by without them seeing each other back home in OBX), it was more the fantastical and almost imaginative world she felt herself slip into as time stretched on. This vacation, the two of them spending days on end together hand in hand without anyone in town so much as sparing them a glance, felt like an escape. It felt like the only things that existed in the world were the two of them; no worries, expectations, gossip, or pressures, just the two of them… and she wanted to savor that. She wanted to cherish every second because she knew, the second they touched down back at home, she couldn’t look at her best friend like that. She couldn’t allow herself to. She wouldn’t allow herself to, because that would just cause heartbreak.

Y/n stretched her limbs, turning onto her back with a groan. She spared a glance over to Rafe’s side of the bed, scanning over his still resting form. His tanned back rose and fell slowly in the morning light that filtered in through the curtains. She knew this was going to be their last day there, but looking at him made her wish they could just stay in bed all day.

With a sigh, y/n moved to get out of bed, Rafe quickly flipping over, his body now facing her.

“Don’t.” He said groggily, an arm reaching out and grabbing at y/n’s torso. With a sigh, y/n sunk back into the bed, running her hand gently through Rafe’s hair. She could feel him relax further into her, his face burying itself into her pillow. He looked peaceful like this, his freckles especially prominent against the crisp white of the sheets.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Rafe said, his voice muffled by the pillow. He slowly opened an eye, a smirk spreading across his lips as y/n felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“What time did Sarah and—” Y/n started, but was interrupted by a loud knocking on the door.

“Is everyone ready for the beach?” Sarah shouted from the opposite side of the door. She waited barely a second before throwing it open, revealing her and John B already dressed in their swimsuits. Rafe groaned, burying his face into y/n’s torso in an attempt to escape Sarah and John B’s sudden presence.

“Probably should’ve asked if everyone was dressed before throwing the door open, Sar.” John B said lowly, his eyes drifting over the way y/n’s hand rested in Rafe’s hair and the grip Rafe’s bare arms had on y/n’s torso. Without lifting his head, Rafe removed one of arms from y/n’s torso and flipped John B off before straightening to sit up against the headboard. He ran a hand over his face, pushing his tousled hair out of his eyes.

“You brought that swimsuit we bought downtown, right?” Sarah said, quirking her brow as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“I mean… I did, but I don’t think I’m gonna wear it.” Y/n muttered, chewing at her thumbnail. After an entire day of shopping for this particular trip, Sarah and y/n had stumbled into a little boutique. As they perused the shelves, a strappy pink bikini caught y/n’s eye. It was a bit more revealing than what she would usually wear, but Sarah convinced her to try it on. Once she put it on and came out, Sarah practically begged her to buy it, gushing about how good she looked… and how Rafe would probably like it too.

“What? Why not?” Sarah said incredulously. “You looked so, so hot in it!”

Y/n swallowed harshly, her eyes flicking over to Rafe’s sleepy face quickly before looking back to Sarah.

“I just… I don’t know…” Y/n trailed off.

“You’re wearing it. You bought it and you look hot in it. You’re wearing it.” Sarah said finally, standing up from the bed. “We’re leaving in ten, so chop chop.”

The entire walk to the beach, y/n couldn’t stop thinking about the swimsuit that clung to her body underneath her cover up. Thankfully, the walk wasn’t long, and the beach was quite sparse. The four of them set up camp, John B and Sarah quickly settling onto a beach towel as Rafe struggled to set up the beach umbrella. The salty scent of the ocean filled the air, the sun reflecting off the water in a way that made it sparkle. Y/n put her hands on her hips, soaking in the beautiful ripples of light and the warmth of the sun as it tickled her skin.

“Are you gonna get in or just stare at the water all day?” Rafe quipped, tearing y/n’s gaze away from the water. She squinted at him, a smirk spreading across his face as he shrugged off his t-shirt.

“I’ll get in later.” Y/n said, her mind flicking back to her skimpy swimsuit underneath as she sat down on her beach towel.

“Boring.” Rafe groaned, stretching out on a beach towel next to y/n. “Fine.”

The morning continued with casual (and surprisingly civil between John B and Rafe) conversation, the temperature climbing as the sun rose higher and higher. Despite the heat, y/n still couldn’t quite take off her coverup, fearful of looking too scandalous or provocative or whatever term her mom would undoubtedly use when she showed her pictures from vacation. 

“Fuck, I’m hot. I’m getting in the water.” Rafe stood up, looking down at y/n expectantly. Her eyes met his, quirking her brow as he continued to stand there staring at her.

“Are you coming?” Rafe asked, offering his hand out. Y/n swallowed harshly, her eyes flicking over to Sarah for support, but she was totally engrossed in conversation with John B. With a sigh, y/n took Rafe’s hand and rose to her feet. Taking a final deep breath, y/n reached for the hem of her coverup. Slowly, she peeled the thin fabric away to reveal the pink swimsuit she had been stressing about all day.

“Well, shit.” Rafe said simply, his eyes raking over y/n’s body in a way that made her head dizzy with worry.

“I know, it’s too much. I should’ve just—” Y/n stammered, reaching for her coverup again, but Rafe stopped her.

“No, no…” He shook his head, his eyes unable to meet hers as he continued to look at the intricate details of the swimsuit. “You look good. Like, really good.”

Y/n felt her cheeks warm up, her mind racing a mile a minute as she opened her mouth to respond.

“Hell yeah she looks good! She looks hot!” Sarah hollered, a wide smile on her face as she looked at y/n. Y/n shook her head bashfully before turning back to Rafe, whose gaze lingered on her body for a second before flicking back to meet her own. He blinked quickly, clearing his mind, before a sly grin spread across his face. A sly grin that she recognized all too well: he was up to something.

“What’re you—” Y/n started, but Rafe had already started moving. In the blink of an eye, his arms were around her bare torso, hoisting her over his shoulder before running towards the water. Y/n laughed, her hands grabbing at Rafe’s back as he reached the water.

“Rafe Cameron you better not—” Y/n squealed, but he had already jumped into the ocean, sending the both of them under water in a jumble of limbs. She emerged from the water, swiping her hair out of her face as she took in a gasp of air. Rafe emerged next to her, his hair plastered to his forehead and a wide grin on his face. Y/n smiled back at him, the two of the giggling. The moment didn’t last very long, however, when Rafe’s eyes flicked downwards before widening. Y/n’s brow furrowed at his sudden change in mood, her gaze following his to notice that in the chaos of being thrown under water, her top had come undone, rendering her chest entirely bare.

“Shit!” Y/n said, quickly grabbing at the cups of her bikini and holding them against her. Rafe closed his eyes, quickly turning away in an attempt to avoid looking at y/n’s exposed form. Y/n felt her heart pounding as she tried her best to tie the strings behind her, her eyes stinging with the salt of the ocean and a flood of embarrassed tears.

“I– I’m sorry I didn’t— I didn’t see—well, I did see but I didn’t mean to.” Rafe scrambled, his back still to y/n and his hand firmly clamped over his eyes. Y/n groaned, finally able to get the top most of the way back on. She felt so, so humiliated. She wanted to wear the swimsuit to feel hot and confident, but now she just looked like an idiot as she pinned the fabric to her chest. What was that term, ‘lipstick on a pig’? Well this most certainly proved that… no amount of sexy swimsuits could disguise the fact that Rafe could never, and would never, see her like the girls she’d see him with at parties. The ones he’d kiss or laugh with, delicately touch their exposed skin… no. He’d always just see her as this embarrassment.

“Fuck, fuck I can’t— I can’t—” Y/n took in a ragged breath, her eyes darting back to the shore, thankful none of the beach goers seemed to have noticed her mishap… but she didn’t really care if some random tourists saw her make a fool of herself. She did, however, care if Rafe saw her look like a fool, and he most certainly had. For once she just wanted to feel sexy, hell she wanted Rafe to think she looked sexy as embarrassing as it was to think that, and now she had embarrassed herself.

“D– Do you need help?” Rafe said lowly, hesitantly turning around as he heard y/n sniffle. She was mostly covered now, but the tie that would usually rest on the nape of her neck still hung loosely on her arms. She couldn’t meet his eyes, still feeling overwhelmed from the whole situation, but she did nod. Rafe tentatively raised his hands as she turned her back to him, his fingers shaking lightly as he tied the strings together. His fingers lingered, tracing her skin before retreating back towards himself. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck as she squeezed her eyes closed, a single tear falling down her cheek.

“Thanks.” Y/n muttered before trudging back to the beach.

“Hey– y/n, it’s fine. You don’t have to—” Rafe started, following her as they waded through the water.

“Just stop, Rafe.” Y/n snapped, finally making it out of the water and onto the sand. She quickly went to her coverup, throwing it over her soaking wet body before shoving her items back into her beach bag.

“Y/n, wait, please. I’m sorry. I– I don’t think anyone saw, I swear.” Rafe said, grabbing y/n’s arm in an attempt to stop her departure. Y/n shook her head, trying to pry her arm from Rafe’s grip.

“What’s wrong? Are you—” Sarah started, but was cut off when Rafe shot a dangerous glare at her.

“Yes, people saw, Rafe.” Y/n sighed, her water eyes finally meeting his. “You did.”

“I– I’m sorry. I didn’t — I’d never mean to make you uncomfortable.” Rafe let out a shaky breath, his cheeks flushed. Y/n looked back at him, her bottom lip trembling with embarrassment.

“I… I’d hate to ever make you feel uncomfortable or scared or embarrassed— shit, I’d probably kill anyone else who did.” Rafe chuckled slightly, which brought a bit of a grin to y/n’s face that made the churning in Rafe’s stomach lessen.

“I promise you, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, a’ight? It… shit happens. That doesn’t change the way I see you.” Rafe said lowly, his hand still resting lightly on y/n’s arm. Y/n closed her eyes, taking a deep breath at Rafe’s words. They helped to clear some of the nagging, anxious, and self-deprecating thoughts in her head, that he hated her or was disgusted by her, but only further solidified the idea that he didn’t see her like that. Like how she wished he would see her.

“Thanks, boy.” Y/n whispered, Rafe’s smile widening as he pulled y/n into a hug. Her face smushed into the dampened skin of Rafe’s chest, the thrum of his heart echoing in her ears before they pulled away.

“If it makes you feel any better—” Rafe said, to which y/n cringed.

“Don’t talk about my tits, please.” Y/n groaned, pushing Rafe away lightly.

“Ok, ok, fine…” Rafe trailed off, a smirk spreading across his cheeks as he raised his brows teasingly.

“I’m gonna slap you.” Y/n said pointedly.

“Ok, ok! Sorry…” Rafe said, his attention suddenly diverted when his phone went off. He rushed over to it, checking the notification before quickly throwing his shirt on.

“Seriously, what the fuck is going on?” Sarah asked, propping herself up next to John B to scowl at Rafe as he grabbed y/n’s beach bag from her, slinging it over his shoulder.

“We, um, have to go!” Rafe scrambled, taking y/n’s hand as he started leading her down the beach.

“What—” Y/n started as she tossed her towel over her shoulder.

“We have to get ready for your surprise. And I don’t want to be late.” Rafe said simply, his pace rapid as they continued up the trail.

“Rafe Cameron doesn’t want to be late? What is going—” Y/n asked.

“It’s a surprise!” Rafe grinned, his cheeks light pink and his eyes filled with a mischief that made y/n’s stomach churn.