#my tab is threatening to crash on me

[borealiszero]

One sunny day somewhere from before

[butmakeitgayblog]

Medusa and the Blind Woman

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Come to me, my love

Across fields full of lilies at night

The stars shining overhead 

Are witnesses to our love 

As bright as the sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Coming sorta soon to an AO3 tab near you)

She crashes in on an easterly wave. 

One that threatens the bare spindles of a long dead port. The wind bites at stilts gnarled by sea salt and the negligence of time, threads of frayed twine whipping in retaliating lashes against the onslaught versus sturdy grecian wood. 

Lexa watches from on high, eyes on mastheads and white sails in the distance when she takes a moment to admire her only non-hissing companion, the sea. She stands an eagle in her nest of serpentine thorns, as the speck of a sailor draws near from the horizon, boat marching on the back of winds that carry it onward. The ocean howls of intruders long before they arrive, the swishing churn of embattled rip tides announcing the threat among rustled gusts and spits of algae foam. 

It's all become so painfully predictable. 

Lexa sighs at the sight of them marching on toward her fortress. 

A sinking weight floods her stomach, weary resignation presses heavy against her throat.

The grip of her spade tightens as she reminds herself they mean nothing to her morning, to her schedule, that must be kept. What with the chill slipping through the cracks of a waning afternoon sun setting quick on the intruder's horizon. 

She doesn't bother to watch their approach further, instead keeping her thoughts to steady hands that churn earth and crumble stone, driving her blade against charcoal and turning it to soot. She checks her moorings to the west and fells a few fresh saplings for kindling. Nuisances in that particular corner of her nest of thorns, ones she's been waging a losing battle with for ages.

Her thoughts scatter like the seed and silt that pour through the calloused cracks of her fingers, wondering—

A sharp whine fills the air below, followed by a screech and crash of splintering wood. A thunderous boom echoes along the rockside loud enough to shake the very gravel under her feet followed by a full chested bellow.

"Gods damn it all!"

Lexa straightens from her work at the cry of anger, loud enough to have her dropping her tools where she stands. Loud enough to send a shiver across her scalp that hisses and spits its welcome in return. 

She slips past brambles and thickets of overgrowth. Moves between boulders and shrugging aside the hang of vine, winding her way to the edge of her oasis. The sweet scent of honeysuckle mixes with sea water as she moves close to the rocky ledge of the cliff shore. 

Careful to stay hidden, tucked neatly in the shadows, she lifts a few leaves on the tips of her finger to see her would be… captors…

Or. Captor.

The waters are littered with floating bits of dock and warped wood, now useless and broken into a thousand tiny shards that bob their way back out into the wild. 

In its place is a boat. 

A rather meager boat, Lexa notes to herself at the feel of a nose nudging her cheek. A vessel of one lonely single seat, barely a rod for a mast, with two matching oars on each side. 

The very sight of its paltry build makes her frown. Her lips drop open shock as she looks past the debris of the wreckage to the fleeing white sails receding into the burgeoning twilight distance. 

Another screeched caw from a circling bird above makes Lexa jump, ignoring the snap and hiss in her ear at the same time the air fills with a strained, "Oh shut up!"

Well.

This is certainly not what she had expected. 

Because…

She's blonde. 

Her apparent assassin is… blonde.

And decidedly less muscular than she'd become accustomed to. Not the type bearing rippling muscles, or the thuggish brawn born of beating one's own chest.

This assassin is downright… dainty. 

Dressed in a simple white shift in place of the bronze and pounded silver chest plate that Lexa is used to, stands a woman with sun laden ribbons of spun gold hair, bare of the usual swords and shield expected of such a journey and instead grasping a rather pathetic looking stick. Her face is cloaked in a curtain of wispy strands of gold, darkened by sea spray and the looming cliffs above as she fiddles with a satchel tied to her hip. She tussles with the strings, fingers awkward as she struggles to keep hold of the long spindle stick while fighting a losing battle with a knot that ignores her angered muttering. 

Lexa watches from the safety of the shadow's edge as the intruder goes about her various tasks. She watches her reach out and smack the end of the stick in her hand along the ground in sweeping thunks. Watches her do a slow sort of pirouette, a kind of turn here and there as she taps each stone and rock around her in a series of dull clicks. Her steps seem timid, calculated in the way they shuffle and pause and then go again, as her head twists slightly at every creak of the trees that bend toward the skyline, every crash of the tide, every chirp of a bird that follows. 

She watches the woman zigzag a line away from the wreckage of splintered wood and sails, weaving her way in measured footsteps and the incessant tapping of her stick. 

Lexa glances toward the two beady eyes staring at her and gives an equally mystified shrug. 

It's only when she comes close, dangerously close to the ridge cut in the cliff face that leads to the well worn path inland that Lexa finally finds her voice. 

"Who are you?"

The peculiar tapping stops on the sharp cut of a startled scream. "Hades in hell!" 

The hand not brandishing the stick clutches at her chest as she takes a half spin, the stick coming up in a wild arch like a sword apparently ready to slice the air in battle. 

Lexa frowns from the safety of her shadowed nook at the ridiculous display below. "If you wish to keep your life, turn back. Now."

The woman makes another half turn in her direction, face lifted and eyes screwed shut. "Where are you? This place is like an amphitheater."

"Your search is in vain! I said—"

"Give me a left or right, lady," she cuts her off impatiently, the stick shaking but still held vaguely menacingly aloft. "Clap or something so I at least know I'm not talking to a tree."

"Leave," Lexa booms with all the might of her weary bones, feeling her words reverberate against the stone embankment and echo into her chest. Power courses through her as she watches her idiotic, would-be killer startle and stumble back… only to right herself and throw her hands up in a huff. 

"Fine! I'll just shout at whatever, since apparently that's what you do here!" The stranger slams the stick down on its point, burying it deep into the sand and leans her weight against it, wobbling only slightly with a heaving sigh. "Listen. Just relax a minute and listen to me."

Only the crashing waves and panting drags of her breath echoes in the silence.

"Alright," she says as Lexa seethes and looks on. "My name is Clarke. I'm not… one hundred percent sure where I am, but if I am where I should be, I need you to know that I was sent here by my people, okay? I didn't choose to be here—"

"That does not matter!"

"I know that!" this woman, this Clarke, snaps right back. "I know you're pissed, you've made that abundantly clear, but what I'm saying is, whatever you think I'm here to do, believe me when I say, I am not."

"I think you're here to kill me," Lexa says in all but a growl.

Clarke throws the arm she's not leaning on into the air. "Then it's a wonderful thing we're having this chat, because I'm not."

Lexa's jaw aches with how hard she grits her teeth at the snark soaked rebuttal. "Then what are you here for?"

"I already said I didn't have a choice. I was just shipped off here and told to—." Lexa watches the woman swallow down the rest of her words, blonde hair swaying with the shake of her head. "Look, it doesn't matter what I was told to do. I'm not interested in fighting anyone else's battles right now. All I plan to do is squat here for a few weeks, work on my tan, fix my gods forsaken boat, and get out of your hair… Or uh, not your— The, with the— I'm assuming, if you are— If you're —"

"Why shouldn't I strike you down where you stand?" Lexa calls over the pathetic bumbling of the woman below. "I stay to the shadows for your safety, grace you with an opportunity to flee for your life. Why should I not step forward and let you see the face of your end?"

All Clarke does is snort. "Yeah, good luck with that."

Fingernails digging into the weathered bark of the tree does nothing to soothe the surge of anger that rises in Lexa's chest. She watches as the stranger seems to sigh to herself. The stick gets yanked from where it'd been buried in the sand and shook off.

And then the damn tapping starts again.

"What is that you are doing?" Lexa calls in a huff.

The woman flops a careless hand in her general direction as she calls back, "Playing a real fun game called trying to not break my neck. You can't tell?" and taps the stick against a hip sized boulder along its side and up the top, and then moves on to it's sister to the right in a few series of clicks. 

Lexa watches her repeat this process several times over, wandering in short bursts until finding another object of interest before starting the process all over. She watches that face turn up, eyes still shut tight, pausing and leaning and listening to every roll of the waves, every rustle of wind, every minute chirp of birds.

It's only when a head butts her temple and black beady eyes slip closed and stay closed, when the tip of Clarke's stick finds the gnarled roots of an upended tree and the woman chances a feel with her hands along the rough bark that it all finally makes sense.

"You're blind."

She says it more to herself than anyone, long since used to the lack of audience that can talk back, but the astute observation still earns her laugh. One topped with a tired smile from that unseeing face as she eases down onto the overturned tree for a rest. 

"Whew. Nothin' gets past you."

[andreafmn]

Collision | Chapter 19

Word Count: 3.6K Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same. Chapter: 19/? A/N: Um, cannot believe this story is at 19 chapters already. like, what? I'm thinking of separating the series into each of the books, that way we don't get to like 100 chapters because it's basically just a Twilight rewrite 😅😅 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts  or buy me a coffee to support me and my love of writing Follow 😊 -> TikTok • Instagram • Business If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! Please check if you’re tagged in the story, I’ve reached the limit of tags on Twilight again it seems. 😅

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Chapter 19

(Y/N) felt guilt surging through her as she knocked on the door of the Swan residence. She knew she had been in pain. That just like Bella she had been abandoned by the person they thought was the love of their life. But she had crawled out of the dark hole she had sunk into, fighting tooth and nail against everything that wanted to keep her down. Although, she could still feel their claws scraping at her skin, breathing down her neck, and whispering their return.

But even if she still wasn’t a hundred percent healed and she still cried herself to sleep on the nights she was alone, she wanted to at least help Bella take the first step out.

“(Y/N),” Charlie smiled. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Of course, Charlie. I just wanna make sure Bella gets better, or at least start to.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you. And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he stammered slightly. “Before the Cullens left, there was talk in the town about the doctor. You know, about who he was seeing…”

“You’re wondering if we were together?” (Y/N) smiled, pushing down the sadness that was threatening to spill out with her words. “Well, I’ll let you know that those rumors were true. And, yes, just like Bella, he broke up with me and left. I’m guessing that’s why you asked me to talk to her.”

“It is,” he smiled awkwardly. “I’m not usually keen on small-town gossip, but I’d heard that you had been in a funk since they left, and I put two and two together. And seeing how well you’re doing now, I needed to throw out a hail Mary and see if you could help Bella.”

“It’s okay, Charlie. I knew that people talked about us,” she said reassuringly. “And though it’s been hard, with the help of my friends and family, I was able to start piecing myself back together. I only hope I can help do the same with Bella.”

“I hope so to,” he breathed defeatedly. “I have to run out to work right now but you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen or you can get some pizza, or even take Bella to the diner. I’ll cover the whole tab.”

“I think we’ll manage, Charlie. But thank you,” she chuckled. “I’m no miracle worker but I will try my best.”

“That is all I can ask,” he said. “You probably won’t be here when I get back, so I’m gonna thank you again for trying with Bella. I’m glad that she has people in her corner like you.”

 “She will always have a friend in me.”

(Y/N) waved the man away as he left the house, pointing her upstairs in the direction of Bella. With the man gone the house was eerily quiet. If she hadn’t known the other girl was in her room, she would have thought Charlie had left her in an empty house. There was no sign of life. And she hated how familiar that felt.

She walked up the creaky stairs, bracing herself for whatever version of Isabella Swan she would be faced with. She knew what losing yourself in heartache looked and felt like, and it was not pretty.

The door to Bella’s room was open, still no indication of movement, and for a second (Y/N) felt like she was intruding into someone’s privacy. Until she saw the girl’s figure as still as a statue on the far end of her bedroom staring out the window.

Bella looked paler than usual, her cheeks slightly sunken and her eyes wearing dark bags under them. She hadn’t been sleeping or eating well and it was evident on her body. If someone had told her that the Swan girl had not moved from that chair in months, she would have believed them.

“Hey, Bella.” (Y/N)’s voice startled her. The girl jumped as though her systems had jump-started at the sound of another presence. “Don’t know if your dad told you but he asked me to come over. I know we haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Oh, hey,” she muttered. “Yeah, I think he mentioned something.”

“I guess it’s no surprise that he asked me to come talk to you, huh?”

“Because of them,” she sighed.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) smiled painfully, sitting on the ledge of the window right in front of her.

She had practiced a speech at home, words of encouragement that would hopefully chip at the wall Bella had built around herself. She’d practiced speech after speech, picking from every talking to Sam and her mom had related to her, every phrase that made her own heart soften.

But standing before Bella, the words had died in her throat. There was nothing she could say to make it better. No amount of bullshit could make her better. What the Cullens had done to both of them Would not be remedied with a conversation. And that was all (Y/N) had.

“How’d you do it?” Bella asked after a few minutes in silence. “How were you able to move on from him?”

“To be honest… I haven’t,” she sighed, the confession tasting acrid on her tongue. “And I don’t think I ever will. I don’t think you ever really move on from someone you were ready to give up your whole life for.”

“But you seem to have it all together now,” she exclaimed. “You’re in med school, you’re going to parties, you’re working at the hospital. And you look happy.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Bella. That’s the beauty of pretending. People don’t question someone that looks happy,” (Y/N) smiled softly. “I’m not doing any better than you just because it looks like I am. If I’m telling the truth, I am still as heartbroken as I was the day they left. I just decided that pretending was easier than hurting.”

“I just feel like I’ll be in pain for the rest of my life,” the girl cried softly. “I just wish there was something I could use to numb it all. I just want it to stop.”

“That’s not the answer either, Bella. And I would know. I spent the first two months drowning my sorrows with vodka,” she confessed. “And even if I felt numb for a few hours the pain was still there. It always will be, I think.”

“Then how do we make it through? How do we stop it from hurting more?”

“I don’t think we can stop it from hurting. All we can do is keep going regardless of how much it hurts,” (Y/N) offered. “But if they get to go on with their lives after leaving us as they did, then we owe it to ourselves to do the same. The best way to make them pay is to show them our lives went on without them.”

“It’s just,” her voice croaked. “I don’t think I can. Actually, I don’t think I want my life to go on without Edward. I had never seen forever the way I saw it with him. Didn’t you feel like that with Carlise?” 

At the sound of his name, the knot in (Y/N)’s throat tightened. It had been months since her ears had listened to that combination of letters. Everyone around her had quickly picked up on the situation and they had more than willingly stopped mentioning his name.

But there Bella was, speaking it into existence as if it wasn’t the most bitter word to let pass through her tongue. She said them like the beautiful names they were, like the sweetness of them wasn’t overwhelming in her mouth. She spoke like a girl that was still in love and had no disdain for the person that had hurt her. And (Y/N) wondered how that could be.

His name was laced with so much anger and sadness that (Y/N) couldn’t even bring herself to even think about it. Yet, Bella had said it and it had felt like a punch to the gut. Because she had once also said his name with so much enchantment and care, and it made her miss those days. The days when she could call his name and instantly be filled with happiness and excitement.

“I did… I do,” she corrected. “But I don’t want to. That’s why I’ve been trying my hardest to move on, even if it’s just one day at a time. I want to get to the day where when I dream of my future he’s not there. I crave the morning I wake up and my heart doesn’t ache anymore, where I can trust someone else to tell me they love me and mean it. We gave them our hearts, Bella, and they threw it away like it meant nothing. I’m not telling you that you have to move on. But I am telling you that it’s the best idea.”

Bella simply nodded for a second and agreed when (Y/N) offered to get some pizza to fill the silence. Everything that (Y/N) had told her she agreed with, to an extent. If the Cullens weren’t coming back like it seemed they weren’t, then she wanted to take her life back in her control like (Y/N) had. But she couldn’t help the tiny drop of hope she held that they would return, and she could settle into their life as she had done once and fulfill the plans she had made with Edward.

As (Y/N) served herself pizza, Bella sat there, picking at the slice that was on her plate, the words slowly digesting into her system. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Anything.”

“If he had offered to turn you –before everything happened—if he had told you that he would have turned you and asked you to leave with them.” She stared deeply into (Y/N)’s eyes, her tears glistening in the rays of the morning. “Would you have done it? Would you have gone with him?”

“The rational side of me wants to say no. That I would have thought twice about leaving my family and friends again, that I would have given myself a few years to be human and experience life while my heart was still beating,” she chuckled, drying away tears she had not known were pooling until they fell down her cheeks. “But my romantic side, the side that was desperate to be in love, knows I would have agreed just if it meant that I would have him by my side for the rest of my life. I would have given up everything even for just a few years with him.”

“What if he came back? What if he came back and asked for another chance?” Bella was desperate. It was the first time she could ask these questions. The first time she could talk to someone that knew everything and could answer back. “Would you give it to him?”

“That’s a difficult hypothetical, Bella,” (Y/N) laughed. “I think there are too many variables at play for me to know if I would.”

“That’s because you’re thinking with your rational side,” Bella teased slightly, the semblance of a smile playing on her lips. “I’m asking your romantic side. Would that side want Carlisle back?”

(Y/N) kept quiet even though she knew the answer. It was hard to say it out loud. To admit that regardless of how destroyed he had left her that she would want him with every fiber of her being. That if tomorrow he reappeared that she would fall back into his arms and pick things up where they had ended. But it wasn’t fair to her, to the little progress she had made without him.

Still, she was being truthful. “The romantic side would gladly take him back,” she said sadly. “But it’s not just to the side that’s put in the work to not let that happen. What will it say about me that someone could hurt me in the way he did, and I welcomed him back into my life?”

“Oh,” was all Bella responded, her head falling as her skin flushed red.

“Would you take Edward back?”

“I would,” her voice peeped meekly. “I love him too much not to. But I wish I was like you. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much.”

“It will still hurt, Bella. It’ll just be easier to act like it doesn’t,” (Y/N) shrugged. “Look, Bella, no one can tell you to move on. If it was that easy, we wouldn’t be here. But you need to at least take the first step. Staying in this room, waiting for the day things just change will not work. It’s on you to start a new journey.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I know you’re right. It’s just so hard.”

“I know it is. If there’s anyone that knows, it’s me,” she smiled. “But you’re not alone. You have people around you that love and care for you. Let them.”

“I’ve pushed them away. I pushed everyone away.”

“The ones that truly care will still welcome you back. Just take it one day at a time, Bella. But take it out of this room.”

“Thank you, (Y/N). It’s comforting to have someone to talk to so openly about this. Things won’t change quickly, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” (Y/N) said, giving the girl a hug goodbye. “If you need anyone to talk to, don’t hesitate to call, Bella.”

“I will,” she smiled weakly. “Take care of yourself, (Y/N).”

“You too, Bella.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t believe she had confessed to everything she had worked to shove into the deepest corners of her mind. She didn’t want to admit the hold he still had on her. That at any second, he could waltz back into her life, and she would still be as in love with him as the day he had left. It was hard to let those words pass through her lips. Because once they were out, there was no way to sink them back in.  

It was strange and unnerving to hear herself say those words out loud. She had kept these thoughts deeply buried in her brain, scared to ever let them come out. Especially around Sam and Paul. Even if the Cullens had not been their natural-born enemies, she was sure they would have still hated them. More after their patriarch had broken her heart. Other than them, there was no one else she was close to that she could really talk to. They knew everything, and for her to be able to open up completely she needed people who knew everything.

Still, as much as she loved Sam and Paul, they were the least objective people in her life. They were genetically predisposed to not be objective. (Y/N) would go to them for everything else, just nothing that had to do with the Cullens.

But Bella was no better for her. Her scales were tilted toward them. If she took anything from her conversation with the Swan girl was that no matter what they had done, she would forgive them and sink back into their life as if nothing had happened. It was terrifying and just the smallest sliver of extraordinary. Her loyalty to the Cullens transpired her pain. Maybe she knew something (Y/N) didn’t.

As she neared her house, she started burying those thoughts deeper and deeper into her mind, afraid that they were visible on her face. Even if she knew how unrealistic it was –and that the only mind reader she knew was miles away—she couldn’t help the embarrassment that rushed to her skin in shades of red. And if they did, she knew they wouldn’t mention it. At least, not to her face. That much she could expect.

What she didn’t expect was to find Embry Call sitting on her porch. He wore a stressed look on his face, nights of little sleep evident on his face. The boy she knew had always been very happy, quiet but joyous. And though he seemed to be the same happy boy, there was a weight to him that was undeniable.

“Embry,” she called out as she got out of her car. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess,” he smiled forcefully. “Well, not exactly.” 

“Why don’t you come in, Em? It’ll be more comfortable to talk.” 

“Sure, thanks.” 

The boy quietly followed her, somehow trying to shrink his 6’4” frame. It was something he did ever since he shifted. The first time he had joined the pack after his first transformation, he had tried to sink into the background as much as he could. The last thing he wanted was to step on anyone’s toes, even if he had been told that he wasn’t.

(Y/N) directed them to the kitchen, quickly setting out drinks and food for the kid, knowing he’d definitely be hungry. “Help yourself to anything,” she said as she noted him sitting on his hands. “Mom still buys food like Sam and his friends come over to ransack our kitchen.” 

“Okay, uh, thanks.” 

“We’re not strangers, Embry,” she smiled kindly. “You can let loose with me.” 

“I’m sorry, it’s just I’m not used to being around other people that aren’t Jake and Quil.” 

“I get that.” She joined him at the kitchen table, sitting before him, a cup of water in her hand. She was all talked out for the evening, but she could see just how much he needed a friend at that moment. “So, what’s going on, kid?” 

“You know we’re only three years apart, right?”

“Still makes me older than you,” she laughed with him. “But, seriously, what’s up?” 

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m here,” he chuckled dryly. “I guess ever since I had my first shift I’ve been feeling kinda lonely. Lonely and confused. It took a couple of hours for my whole life to change and now I don’t really have anyone to talk to about it.”

“How are things at home?”

“Well, mom is always angry at me, but at least she’s stopped yelling. Though I don’t know if I like that better,” he responded sadly. She could see he was biting back tears. His lower lip was quivering and his eyes were pooling with water. “I know you weren’t here when it happened, but do you know Ms. Uley took everything?” 

“To this day they don’t really talk. But when I got here, I didn’t understand why my brother wasn’t home or why he and mom were fighting, or even why we couldn’t even spend time together. I knew he was hiding something, and I guess it hurt to think that he didn’t trust me enough to tell me whatever it was,” she recounted. “It’s a strange thing to watch from the outside. I mean, hearing rumors that my older brother, the man that basically took care of me when I was a kid, had started a gang and was recruiting other from the rez was astonishing. It wasn’t something I could even fathom.  But I don’t know how my mother felt when Saam started disappearing or when he moved out. She won’t talk to me about it.”

“He wanted to waive the silence rule for me,” Embry said sheepishly. “After the first week and seeing how hard it was at home, he told me I could tell my mom everything.”

“But you valued why it’s a secret,” she confirmed. "I understand that. And I also understand how lonely being part of the pack is. Especially coming into a place where you essentially know no one. But open yourself up to them. If you let them in, they will do the same. They’re your family now, Em.” 

“I know. I guess it’s just still all so new to me. I’ve been used to the same people my whole life; I’ve known only one truth my whole life, and it all changed.” 

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but would you ever ask your mom about who your dad is?”

“Don’t think I could ever ask without proving where the suspicions came from,” he shrugged. “Just like everyone here, I was under the impression that my dad was someone from the Makah tribe. She told me that much. But now…”

“That’s okay,” she smiled comfortingly. “But, Embry, I want you to know that regardless of what’s happening at home or with your friends, you’re not alone. You’ve got the pack and you’ve got me, okay? If there’s anything you don’t feel comfortable speaking to them, my door is always open. And if they’re ever giving you shit, I’ll put them in their place. They’re there for you, and so am I. I hope you know that.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he smiled brightly, a few tears falling down his outstretched cheeks. “It’s good to know I still have people I can lean on. You’ve always been nice to me, and I don’t know why.” 

“We all need a little kindness from time to time, Embry. I’m just doing my part in it.”

“Well, it’s greatly appreciated. And even if it doesn’t mean anything, I’m also here for you if you need someone to lean on.”

“It means a lot, Em,” she smiled. “More than you know.” 

The more she talked to the people that most needed it, the more she started to believe her own words. Maybe there was light on the other side of this mountain. Maybe (Y/N) would one day see the morning when the thought of him didn’t send a stake through her heart.

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[hieroslee]

Venti × GN!Reader

(A/N: My first work posted here if you haven't noticed. Constructive criticism is welcomed. I hope you enjoy the fluff.)

Venti sighed, downing the remaining alcohol in his hand. "Seriously, what does it take to get a little sympathy here!" He whines, head falling onto the counter.

Diluc rolls his eyes, wiping down the counter of the spilt wolfhook juice. "Perhaps, if you'd just visit them instead of waiting for them to come to you, you wouldn’t have this problem." He grumbled under his breath.

Although, this doesn't mean the Archon didn't hear it. Since at the sound of the suggestion, his head jumped up, and a grin lit his face. "Hey, yeahhh!!! Thanks Master Diluc!!! I'll pay my tab tomorrow!!"

"Wha-" without another word, Venti jumps off his seat before jubilantly running out of Angel's Share, as if not noticing the fuming Diluc he had left behind.

He hums to himself as he walks down the street, enjoying the walk out of Mondstadt. He drunkenly thinks of the last reunion he had with his favourite person.

○●○●

He beams at the sight of his favourite traveller, of which was speaking to Flora about the flowers gathered from Dragonspine.

"(Y/N)!! I didn't think you'd be in Mondstadt today!" He cheers as he immediately embraces the shocked traveller. They held onto the hands that wrapped around their neck and smiled as they looked at him with excitement.

"V-Venti! Sorry I didn't tell you, I'd been busy with commissions, and I didn't have the time to tell anyone where I was." They sheepishly said before he turned to the child vendor with a cheeky smile.

"Pardon me, Flora, I'll steal away the traveller for a bit!" The child only giggles "Ok Mr. Venti!"

And with that, he drags the other away, not minding the panicked and flustered expression they seemed to have at the sudden action.

○●○●

Hiccuping with a woozy smile, he hadn't noticed the group of hydro slimes that had creeped up behind him. "Venti, look out!" He turns with a curious look, only to be shadowed by a familiar silhouette.

(Y/N) stabs through a hydro slime with ruthless eyes, arms tough, and firm without any sign of slacking. He smiles at the sight while swooning in his mind.

"(Y/N)~~" He watches as the group of hydro slimes were taken care of by his beloved, watching as they let out a breath of relief and wiped the sweat off of their forehead.

They turn to Venti with a beaming smile as they walk closer. "Venti! Oh, how I missed you - " He attacks them with a large hug, face burrowed into the crook of their neck as they let their own hands rest on his shoulder blades.

"Cecilia~, you have no idea how much I missed you, I didn't know when you'd come back since you haven't been around for so long! And not to mention that Windblume is about to start!" He complains into their shoulder, words slurring as they support him.

They grunt, adjusting Venti's position in their arms and smiling with a fond helplessness.

They visibly melt, peppering kisses on his face as they squeezed him just a bit tighter. He basks in the affection, waiting for their response. "I'm sorry VenVen, I was so busy with personal matters I haven’t found time to visit."

He pouts, nibbling on their hand as it finds its way onto his cheek. "You better make it up to me by cuddling me..." he left the rest of his response in the air, yet they sighed. Already knowing exactly what he wanted to say.

"And your tab at Angel's Share." They finished as they let go of the hug and sternly stared at the Archon.

"If you don't come, I'm not paying for your tab." They threatened playfully, making Venti giggle, and run up to them. (Y/N) grabbed his hand once he got close enough, pulling the other back to Mondstadt by the hand. "You know me so well, Cecilia!"

He giggles, swinging their intertwined hands as they walk to (Y/N)'s temporary lodgings. As they finally get to the small Inn, they crash onto their bed, cuddling and whispering sonnets of love to each other.

"If the world were to collapse under us, I'd always find it my priority to catch you." Venti whispers before he smiles and decides to whisper a small poem to the beloved.

"The sky looks so beautiful

So wonderous, the stars

Yet I can never rest

Until I have you in my arms

Oh, my beautiful Cecilia

I love you, and it's true

My beloved, my love

That I can not live without you."

They fluster, stuttering over their words and giddy at the sound of their beloved telling them such a poem. "VenVen..." They let their hand drop on his head, playing with his braids.

"You always managed to surprise me, don't you?" They mutter quietly, a loving smile on their face as they twirl the braid between their fingers.

He bursts into a fit of giggles, making (Y/N) laugh as well.

No jokes were spoken, yet their giggles only seemed to make the other giggle harder. Their giddy smiles make them hug each other a little bit tighter.

"I love you so much, (Y/N)." He says sleepily as his eyelids feel heavy. As the adrenaline and passion for his partner finally wears off and leaves him a tired bard, to which the traveller plants a soft kiss on his forehead.

"I love you too, Venti." They whisper. A deep regret swirling in their eyes as they watched over their sleeping partner.

Under the stars and the gaze of Celestia. It was evident that their bond was more than just love.

It wasn't long before they woke back in their room.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□

They leave their room, groaning as they passed by the game room to see their sibling playing so early.

Their sibling turned over, peering before turning back to the screen. "Well, you returned much earlier than expected. Did Venti sleep early?"

(Y/N) only groaned, throwing a pillow at them before smiling a bit at the reminder. "Shut up. He was drunk today." Their sibling only rolls their eyes, popping a lollipop into their mouth.

"Yeah, yeah, be thankful I let you go this early. Mom would've thrown a fuss if she found out you left at 3 AM just to visit your boyfriend. " They glared at the other. "HE'S MY HUSBAND, DUMB SHIT"

"SO, WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE?!"

"THE DIFFERENCE IS THAT WE'RE FUCKING MARRIED DUMBASS"

"BITCH PLEASE."

[marwhoa]

requests: i'd very much appreciate a rise! leo x reader (gender neutral if u like:) ) the idea i had was the reader met the turtles through april who's been friends with the reader for a while,, kind of being the only normal constant in her life but she finally introduces her to the other side of her double life and reader and leo hit it off right away!!

that's kind of backstory, i suppose, and now reader plays soccer and invites april and the turtles to her games and leo is hyped and supportive. maybe a villain could crash the game or some cool hijinks could ensue!! but i'd really really love and appreciate it! have a good day/night !!

🝮 “ come clean! ”

rise!leo x female!soccer!reader

author’s note: woot !! finally got it done, this has been sitting in my messages for a while *sobs* apologies to the love who made the request, i hope you like it! there are a few little bits here and there that may seem a bit odd—they’re easter eggs for a future x reader i have planned uwu. also huge thanks to @tmntxthings !! I knew NOTHING about soccer, so the super awesome soccer scene is brought to you by my dearly beloved partner in crime :)))

word count: 5.0k

“ April, please! “

Y/N begged, hand holding tightly onto April’s while the other was planted against their table. Plenty of times this month she had flaked on plans—both before and during said plans! So, yeah, she was a bit peeved by now and wanting an answer, especially since this was supposed to be their special friends’ night out. Y/N’s hold had loosened completely when April turned her head back with glossy eyes threatening tears.

“ April…? “

She whispered, repeating it again in a shout as the brunette girl bolted away without a word. Y/N stood frozen while watching her frame disappear. Dejected, she slunk back into her seat, sighing and looking out the window.

“ … “

The sunny skies grew overcast, creating a plummeting feeling in her chest. She leaned into the palm of her hand, elbow aching a bit against the hard table—though, whether it ached more or less than her heart was anyone’s guess. The seconds passed awkwardly until finally Y/N lifted out of her seat, placed money down on the table for the tab, and headed to the door silently. With a push, she recoiled at how heavily the wind was barreling. There was a sharp hiss in the air, and soon Y/N became grateful for the rough winds knocking them over as debris had shattered against the window. There were blurs at the rooftops in the corner of her eyes, but nothing would have kept her in this plaza for long.

—-

You ran home immediately, not wanting anything to do with whatever was about to happen there. The danger only made you more fearful for why April had left so fast and if she was okay! No worries though, you would soon have to found out why your friend so rudely dipped on you—but not from her mouth. No, no, you had to find out when trying to pause the news after you slunk down on the couch in your living room. Your hands tightened, shaking with some emotion between anger and worry.

There, on the tv, was the all-too-familiar blur of your friend being thrown. You resumed the broadcast, recognizing the stadium she was standing in, alongside… wh-what? Are those…?

——-

“ Turtles?! April, you’re serious? TURTLES? “

Y/N was trailing after a speedy April, down the apartment complex’s corridors. She occasionally had to do a light jog just to keep up, and it was good she did that because had there been even a second more of lagging behind, she would’ve been slammed out of her dearest friend’s place.

“ Whuh—hey! April, come on, I deserve an explanation, you’ve been keeping secrets! “

Her grip on the door loosened with an exhausted exhale, pushing open the door to let you in.

“ Y/N, it’s for your own safety! “

“ Bullshit, April, I get to decide that! You’ve been distant for a while now, leaving me in the dark, and then I see you on national news, fighting some—some-some THING? “

“ Shredder. ”

April corrected, dodging her exasperated friend’s gaze. Y/N’s hands were working the entire time to emphasize her point, her frustration. At the end of it, her chest was heaving, body trembling.

Had you overstepped your boundaries? Overstayed your welcome? Was this the end between you two? No, it couldn’t be—just how long have you been friends?! Why, she had even been there since your first try-out for the soccer team back in middle school. She was there when you made the team—there for your first game! April never missed a game of yours, even would bring a friend or two (though, you always wondered why they dressed up so much. no matter the temperature, her friends were always clad in bulky clothes!) And just as she was, you had always been her right-hand-man. For whatever short gig she got herself into (no seriously, you had never met anyone who managed to be in a new club, job, or activity by the next week), you were her biggest supporter, most frequent customer, and most present member!

So, no, you felt completely justified in pushing the boundaries right now. This wouldn’t be the end of you, it couldn’t be.

“ April, please, we’re best friends. I just.. There’s so many secrets between us. Don’t I deserve some kind of explanation? “

After a few wordless seconds, something in April finally changed. That seemed to be the key as her expression softened back to the April you knew and loved all these years. You couldn’t help but smirk at that, biting back stubborn tears and diving into the hug she offered. You whispered a, “ there you are “ and listened intently as she finally spilled the beans about this entire second life she had! Seriously, how did she keep this from you for this long?

By the end of the night, your excited, nosy self was already two steps away from going out to find these brothers, and April was well, WELL aware of this. Would you two really be as good of friends as you were if she hadn’t known the kind of person you were?

Mayhaps a little message had already been sent out, and may-mayhaps there was already a little someone or someones at the door.

“ No way.. ”

“ C’mon now, Y/N, don’t drool on my floor. ”

Your mouth was open in joyful surprise, like a child being told a present awaits them in the next room; April failed to hold back and laughed at you, teasing you all the way to the door. Fixated on that sleek mahogany, you scrambled to your feet—mouth still open, of course—and watched the four tall figures step into the room, greeting April. As their eyes went to you, each had a different expression.

The red one—the biggest—flashed a toothy grin and a neat wave. His voice was welcoming and friendly as he said a, “ hello! “

The orange one—the smallest—was bobbing in place, the biggest grin ever seen on his face as he waved with probably all the force and energy in his body. You wondered if it was even possible for him to exhaust himself.

Now, the purple one… well, he wasn’t even paying attention anymore. After greeting April, he promptly went straight to the glowing metal on his arm, some form of Apple Watch? Had you not been impressed to begin with, maybe this would have ticked you off.

Somehow, though, the last brother had managed to take the show by storm and outperform each introduction as a blue blur scooped up your hands instantly, giving you a cool smirk with excitement in his eyes.

“ It’s an honor to finally meet you, I’m Leo. “

“ You’ve heard of me? “

Confused by how he said that, you couldn’t fight the oddest feeling of familiarity. The image of a particularly bundled-up, reoccurring guest at your games with April appeared in your head…. Odd, surely unrelated. Anyways, he shook your hands and rose them to plant a little kiss, rattling your stiffened stance as you got flustered and began giggling.

“ I haven’t missed a single game of yours—Unlike someone I know—ACK! “

He turned, assumedly taking a jab at April, only to then screech as he dropped down to dodge a thrown shoe. It would’ve hit you instead, except for the fact that the goofy boy had yanked you down with him. He was crouched like a hero out of a marvel movie, but you were splayed out ungracefully like a splat on the ground, Chest to floor, head spinning, you gave a dazed laugh or two before hearing a, “ Leo, you killed April’s friend! “ exclaimed from the smallest who had the biggest eyes—what an expressive lad.

After being helped up, the rest of the night played out with question after question, from “ How’s it feel, out on the field with your friends! ” to “ What would you say is your ratio of misses to goals scored? ” to “ Have you ever made the BEST SHOT ever and rubbed it in the opponents faces!?!? ” And then others like, “ So, what exactly is a Shredder? ”, or “ What’s with the winter get-up at my games? ”, then “ Whoa… Is that real? Can I touch it? ”, and more.

By the time midnight rolled by, you felt like you just caught up on a slew of experiences April had without you (and you may, MAY have been jealous!)

With a hop to your feet, you invited them all personally to your next game coming up, and boy were all of them more than excited to accept (well… almost all. One seemed to not be listening, but you had a feeling he was going to come, too.). Upon being ushered out by April, Mikey would give you a big hug, Donnie may have nodded in your direction, and Raph gave a firm handshake with a toothy grin!

But Leo, he stopped in front of you. His hand rubbed the back of his neck as he looked everywhere but at you.

Stammers and stutters, apologies, and then a long drawn out sigh.

“ I—I enjoyed—enjoyed? That’s so formal, no, I, I really liked talking to you tonight! “

He slumped over, as if he had planned something else to say but it just didn’t come out right. Snickering echoed down the halls, and you knew just who the culprits were.

“ I’ll see you, at your game night—I’ll-I’ll cheer the loudest, I guaran—ouch!—guarantee it! “

He had been backing up down the hall, waving to you as his voice rose to ensure you heard it. Of course, not looking where he was walking rewarded him with a smack against the wall interrupting his sentence, but he had a quick recovery. The last thing you saw was a starstruck look in his eyes when you blurted out a laugh at this, waving and nodding.

——-

And that encounter had been the first on your mind, echoing and replaying in all its glory. Stepping through the gates of the stadium’s fences, you searched the bleachers for the oddballs and April. Upon seeing them, you gave a wave—hopping and swinging with almost as much energy as when Mikey introduced himself to you. Your friends waved, and the one you just knew was Leo stood up and shouted, “ GOOD LUCK !! “

With giddy joy written all in your face, you stepped out onto the field, assuming position while holding a hand up to shield the beaming lights from your eyes. The greeting-roars from the crowds as announcers readied them for the coming-game sent motivation electrifying through every inch of your body, straight into your soul.

You leaned down with an expression oozing confidence, clenching and loosening your fists while preparing a keen eye and a ready kick. Your opponents had waltzed in with a winning streak, and you & your ‘mates were determined to end it tonight. The looks in their faces as they strut in, grinning with a “ we got this already “, lit a fire in each member of your team. They would not be leaving this stadium with any streak; in fact, tonight would begin their losing streak! Y’all were going to make sure of THAT.

——-

The game had been at a standstill for a long time. The team you faced were great opponents and lived up to their name, the Easy Riders, but you and your team, the Star Dogs, were just as good. Twenty minutes into the match and the score was still zero to zero. That wasn’t because the Star Dogs hadn’t had any chances to score; on the contrary, you’d gotten the ball passed to you and had almost scored twice now.

First chance arose at a breakneck pace. The ball came to you hard and fast, hitting right smack dab in your chest. You cushioned it as much as possible so it didn’t bounce off and maneuvered towards the goal. Only in a perfect world would you be met with no resistance, so of course the first defender was coming in on your tail. One easy side-sweep kick and you were able to quickly get around that oaf. But as you passed the first, the second defender was already hit on your tail, and you had to make a decision: Pass it, or try for the goal.

You weren’t that far away, and an early lead would boost morale—games were 90 minutes, after all. So, you took a chance, as the words from Leo rang in your ears. That he was watching.

It hadn’t been a bad shot, but like you said earlier, the team was good. And they had an even better goalie. The ball was blocked and launched down the field. You bit down on your lower lip to hold in expletives. Fucking shit, I should’ve passed it. Fuck. Damn. Shaking your head like an enraged bull, you reigned all of the negative emotions in and ran down to the midfield, ready for another opportunity.

When you got the ball again, you were more wary of your surroundings. You didn’t want to force your way in again, that hadn’t worked. And this time you’d make sure to pass to your other striker, the other forward. If two defenders were on you, that left a pretty big opening for your teammate to make a shot. So with that in mind, you dribbled the ball forward, keeping a steady jog down towards the goal until the first defender got in your way again.

Just like before, you slipped past this one easily, a cocky grin spreading on your face as you passed them up. That must’ve struck a nerve because they chased you down at such a speed that no one in their right mind would spend so early in the game. Thus, yet again you were the prey being guarded by two greedy hunters.

“ Think you're so good, huh? ”

Before you had the chance to pass it off, like you had planned, a foot deliberately tripped you. You went down hard into the turf , already imagining the sounding of a foul for their move. Alas, the player continued on despite the booing from the stands, and the referees didn’t so much as bat an eye. Alright, so that’s how this is going to go.

“ That’s right, know your place! ”

Defender one continued to jeer, almost returning the favor and striking one of your nerves. How downright, god damn pathetic to use such tactics! In soccer, feet are only supposed to go for the ball. Any other touch, depending on how physical, could end up—SHOULD end up— with a foul.

With the play still going, albeit now with the ball in enemy hands, you could only grit your teeth and get back up.

Second opportunity: a bust. With the game going how it has, you weren’t surprised when you didn’t get the ball passed to you as soon as you liked. Though, you were there for your teammates and made assists & passes when you could. They had almost scored on your own goal, but thankfully your goalie was able to block it in time. It was nearing the halfway mark when things really started to heat up.

You had enough of jogging. Now was the time for all that speedy energy as you were flying down the field with your teammates holding the ball. Sweat dripping down your face, clumping your hair as you breathed in and out. You watched as the defenders closed in on your teammate. Now was the time. Hopefully they would trust you,

“ PASS! ”

You yelled, clearly open. And just like that, the ball came skidding towards you and with a subtle touch & a sure-shot kick, it zipped and whirled straight past the goalie’s outstretched hands.

“ GOOOOOAAAAAALLLLLLLL! ”

Resonated around the stadium as you stood where you had taken the shot, a bit feral while coming down from the high. Your heart was racing, and your teammates were running over to surround you, exclaiming and cheering just as happily but it was all muffled as your eyes looked up above them, up towards April and—

THUMP!

Square in your face comes down the hand of god with the force of a gajillion textbooks. Dazed and quite literally winded, you laid sprawled on the floor, groaning. The thing that hit you stood up, pressing plush little feet against your cheeks. A strange floral-scented liquid is doused on your face, remedying the pain almost instantly as if you definitely weren’t just clonked by the most divine, holy wrath of strikes by the deities themselves.

Amidst your out-of-it state, only three things were caught through the ringing in your ears: 1.) your teammates’ shuffling feet, backing away from you, 2.) A familiar voice shouting your name, likely Leo, and 3.) the crowd gasping, then screaming as a roar rang out. It was then that the weight on your face was absent. Your eyes fluttered open, soaking up the scene of a giant bear hunched over you as if protecting a cub, letting out a saliva-shower-inducing roar. Fight-or-flight activated, and you didn’t miss the blurs of green shooting out of the receding crowd. Phantom throbbing in your head had you sitting up, groaning and rubbing your temple.

“ Ughhh… My head… “

A bitterness was swirling in your chest as you watched the masses of people, and your teammates, all getting further and further. The game, it had been interrupted. What a sour ending to such a hyped up, invigorating match..

Soon the stadium was left silent, save for the sounds of tussling, slashing, thudding, and battle-crying. And as time went on, you had spent the whole thing much too close to the fight, finding yourself rag-dolled here and there when one of the brothers found you too close for comfort—

“ This is why I’m your knight in shining armor and my brothers aren’t. “

Well, three of them did. With an annoyed quip, one particular knight in blue would scoop you up and portal around anytime his eyes noticed you near. This game was also spent with you drenched and splashed in random liquids from the bear—some managing to touch your tongue with the most horrifically vile tastes.

“ Blegh, Cherry-vinegar! “

Even while hyped up on however many potions the enemy seemed to drink, as soon as one wore off, the bear’s attention found its way to you often—suspiciously so. Thankfully, the blue knight’s portaling habits were enough to inch you further and further away until there was finally a chance to book it to safety, much like everyone else in the audience.

Another potion dripped down your head. You looked up, feeling a chill rush down at the downright terrifying sight of a larger-than-average bear above, bearing their teeth and slobbering.

“ Oh—oh hell no! “

“ Y/N, GET OUT OF HERE. “

As luck would have it, though, the random potion gave you a speed boost, and you were able to whisk off from under the beast just as the orange banded turtle jumped between you and the bear. With the potion’s effects, you made it across the field in a quarter of the amount of time it would have normally taken you.

Unfortunately, with your back turned and feet carrying you away with a one-track-goal, the bear had caught up and it’s outstretched hand aiming for you had gone unnoticed. Knocking into giant plush pads, you gasped as they closed into a firm, yet not suffocating, grip.

“ Y/N! “

“ Y/N….? “

Leo shouted, and the bear repeated. You were brought to their face, stared at with big beedy eyes that almost looked a little cute. Their other hand made easy work of swatting away April, Donnie—hell, even Raph. It was unsettling how calmly they stared at you until finally there was a pop and a poof as the second enlargement potion had reached its limit. You thumped against the ground with an “ oof! “ and caught the little brown bear accidentally.

“ Y/N, a hug! “

Demanded the little being, with grabby hands outstretched for you. For a moment you swore there were tears in their little eyes. There wasn’t a chance to respond before the little bear was swiftly yanked up by a grumbling blue hero.

“ Get away from them! And where’d those potions go? I’m done playing with Missus Fizzlepaws over here. “

“ That’s not my name! Why doesn’t anyone care about me anymore! “

Squirming and whimpering, the distraught bear retorted to nibbling. This did nothing but get them a “ whuh—hey! stop that! “ and a flick on the noggin.

You sighed in relief at the increasingly-obvious harmlessness of the now apprehended plush, so much so that you came a bit closer and held your arms out, a tad bit curious about what they’ve been saying. What did they want with you specifically?

“ Hmm, what is your name? And Leo, lemme see them. I get the weirdest feeling they’re not going to hurt me. “

“ What—no—Irk—fine, just don’t look at me like that. “

Your signature glare had worked wonders as he handed over the bear, who had been looking at you the entire time with big eyes, somehow full of an emotion that you couldn’t help but think was shock. Just what could a plush go through to be able to show that kind of emotion? Their hands reached out for you, gingerly holding your arm as you cradled them with a smile.

“ …. IT’S… It’s, um… “

Those big eyes looked up at you, full of curious wonder all over again.

“ Miss Honeypot.. “

She, as you now knew, had a little honeycomb charm attached to her ear and the smallest little bee wings on her back. Leo of course stayed near, resting his arm across your shoulders, and leaning in to boop her nose. This was met with a munch! Clearly, he wasn’t her favorite.

But, the way your eyes looked when you glanced at him, and the way your voice sounded as you laughed at his “ yowch! “?

Well, let’s just say clearly he was someone’s favorite.

“ Mhmm, just as I thought. “

The belt of potions was found, held on the end of the purple banded turtle’s bo as if it were something dirty. He came near you both.

“ ‘Nardo, if you will, a portal to my usual destination. “

Leo seemed to understand that immediately, grinning and giving some teasing remark while a portal was made.

“ Ooh, trouble in paradise? “

“ Hold your tongue, there is no such thing. “

Through he went, leaving the rest of you and the bear.

“ Soooooo…. What’re we doing with her? “

Mikey had began making faces, each met with Honeypot’s confused raised eyebrow before she then snuggled into you more.

“ Well, she doesn’t seem too harmful anymore… Cute, too. Why don’t I keep her? “

“ WHAT? That thing clocks you in the face, snarls and beats us all up, and now you want to keep her? “

“ Hey, what’za plush like you got so much anger for anyways, huh? ”

While Leo seemed less okay with this idea, Raph rolled his shoulders and nudged Mikey away to give the adorable bear his finger stroking her cheek.

Whether he was bit or not doesn’t matter.

“ Mm… “

Honeypot looked guilty, burying her face in your chest and mumbling something inaudible.

“ What was that? “

You inquired, lifting her up and internally squealing at the utter cuteness of her little legs hanging as you held her up like a cute puppy. Scratch that, she was probably much cuter.

“ Well… I, I was… sad.. Angry, even.. “

The heartstrings of everyone near were pulled. April came in behind you, head resting on your shoulder as you swore tears welled up in her eyes. This resulted in a split second snicker from you, followed by a “ that better not have been a laugh, y/n! “ and a quick “ nope, nope, dunno what you’re talking about. “

“ Sad from what, Honeypot? ”

April asked, reaching a hand out to hold affectionately the bear’s cheek. She wasn’t bitten, and Honeypot even leaned into her touch!

“ My old best friend, she hasn’t held me in years.. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t love me anymore—doesn’t have time for ol’ Honeypot no more.. So I got angry, and I wanted to make a scene because I thought maybe she’d come! But… “

The bear looked here and there with a quivering lip.

“ But no one came, right? “

You said, awwing at the sad little nod she gave and bringing her in for another snug hug.

“ No worries, Honeypot, we’ll be your new best friends! And I’ll love you, hug you, and hold you as long as you want. “

It could’ve melted the snowiest winter just how bright of a smile this little bear gave at that, hugging you as tight as little stuffed arms could hug.

“ Now that that’s finished! Your team diiiiid score the last point before this fluffball appeared, so? “

Leo grinned, nudging Mikey who sprung up immediately, already whipping out his (April’s) phone.

“ Pizza Party!! “

“ Hey wh—my phone! ”

You laughed dryly, holding Honeypot like a baby on your hip (at least until she preferred climbing up Raph instead). A victory like this was anything but that. This was an entire bust—you only wished for the satisfying win, of rubbing it in the other stuck-up team’s face when your team swooped that match right out of their grasps!

Lagging behind the brothers, you tugged April back into a hug as you two walked together.

“ Thanks again, April, for finally opening up to me about this whole ‘double life’ you were living—“

Pinching and tugging her cheek, you playfully feigned anger,

“ —WITHOUT me, mind you. “

This stroll quickly devolved into playful brawling, ending only when you’re both scruffed by a grumpy Raph, who may or may not have been grumpy because he had to pass Honeypot to Leo after finally getting her to like him!

——-

Later, you sat in the lair of the brothers and their father, below ground in the sewers. The smell was horrible, but somehow when you reached the lair itself, that stench was gone. Leo had noticed your confusion and leaned in, noting it was his “ genius brother ” who was to thank for that. Said brother was apparently elsewhere, in someplace called “ The Hidden City ” fixing some stuff.

Everyone settled down for pizza, getting a bit loud and rambunctious all the while. It reminded you of your teammates and the match after parties, which only deepened the tightening in your chest at not being able to win fair-n-square.

Excusing yourself, you walked away with a slice in your mouth, going to explore the rest of the lair. No one really noticed.

Almost no one.

You found the giant room complete with a definitely not safe skate half pipe in the rooms center.

“ Want a rematch? ”

The voice behind you was startling to say the least, as a humiliating screech escaped you. One smack later and you were both laughing.

“ Ow! ”

“ Don’t sneak up on me, Leo! And what do you mean a rematch? We’ve never played before. ”

You pouted a bit, looking away from him. There was no way he noticed you were upset about the game, right?

“ Your match was a bust, so let’s do a rematch. Unless you’re scared to lose to yours truly—I am somewhat of a soccer champion of all time, myself. ”

The smirk on his face just seemed all the more punchable as you cracked your knuckles and grinned back.

“ Oh yeah? We’ll see about that then. You’re on! “

——-

Through a portal, you almost fell face first into turf of the soccer field at your school. Emphasis on almost, as there was a rather muscular arm snaked around your waist keeping you from your doom.

“ Don’t fall for me yet, I haven’t even beat you in the game! ”

“ You—! ”

Laughing, you shoved him away and caught the ball he tossed. You both assumed your positions on either side of the field, fired up now to try and show him what a true soccer champion is like.

Up against a trained mutant, you had your work cut out for you. He was fast, and he did not miss any chances at knocking you off your game.

“ Well aren’t you prettier when you look at me with that determination? ”

“ Whuh—! ”

He stuck out his tongue as the ball was swiped away for your feet. And this wasn’t the end of it.

“ You’re looking at me so intensely, I’m that irresistible? ”

“ Wh—No! We’re—UGH, YOU! ”

How could you stay angry at him? Beneath the lunar sky, illuminated by the white lights and the moon above, the two of you played a game that was neck-n-neck the whole time. Had there been a referee, there would be constant blaring of a whistle. At one point, the two of you toppled over one another, grunting as you hit the ground with him above you—luckily catching himself with his hands on either side of your head. Getting hit with a plastron may not have been the most fun.

But you knew what would be fun. A sly grin on your face, you narrowed your eyes playfully.

“ Wow, at least take me to dinner first. ”

“ I—Sorry, I didn’t mean— “

He stammered, quickly scrambling off of you, but you wasted no time in hopping up and stealing back the ball.

“ Gotcha! ”

Leo watched your descending figure, astonished to be played a fool at his own game. The smile you gave him, right before turning your back to him.. Well, that was more than enough to tell him this was a good idea. Up onto his feet, he was rushing after you, shouting, “ unfair! ” and then shouting loud as he dodged you reaching out to push him, playfully exclaiming, “ how dare you! ”

If you’re wondering who won this game in the end, it was you. He lost his footing in front of the goal (and you wondered if it was on purpose), and you swiftly shot the ball into the end with a powerful kick. “ in your face! ” you shouted, standing over the turtle who laid defeated on the ground.

He quietly looked up at you with an expression that had you holding your breath, heart racing loudly in your ears.

[sevicia]

^ the Thang. As u can see it's really rough still and that is because I am God's most indecisive soldier yes this constantly brings me great pain... like the amount of time I spent on her leg and also the strand of hair that doesn't fall on her arm is craaazyyy

There's like an entire story thing I made up along the way too which is funny cause 1st this was gonna be one of my new OCs then I thought of the TV girl from R1999 then I just went w/ said OC's looks but not personality/story and didn't know what to put on the TV and bc I kinda have Crash 1973 disease on my brain RN I thought of a car crash but I didn't really know what to put around her then so I just thought "Well I can just draw her room and do whatever with the TV afterwards."

Basically she was taking a break from art school after someone close to her died (IDK about that yet) and during that time she found out about this one guy that writes extreme horror and got really really into his books. & then a few months pass and she's still living more or less normally until this guy starts getting just like BLASTED from all sides cause someone went & fucking murdered another person to recreate a scene from one of his stories. And everyone's going crazy cause honestly what the HELL ... ? cause it's not like extreme horror as a literary genre has a HUUUGE audience when compared to other kinds of books & you never rly think someone's gonna dip another person in acid just cause YOU went "what if my character dipped someone in acid" (not actually what happened but ykwim) but yah he's getting the brunt of it.

It doesn't help that he's also kiiiind of a massive cunt like he just does NOT know how to pick a struggle. And Mary (temptative name will discuss) who really really likes this guy's writing starts keeping tabs on everything cause previously the only thing she could find was like, his name and age, so this whole thing's really making it easier for her to know more about him.

After that 1st murder a few more start happening & eventually writer guy is on The News having to say shit like "I don't know what's wrong with these people I am just writing words" but AGAIN he's rude and impulsive as all hell so it NEVER looks good for him.

The effect all of this has on Mary is really disruptive to her normal life routine/style like she becomes even more obsessed with him and with trying to find everything he's ever written, she's so fixated on this whole thing that she's not taking care of herself and has forgotten to do all the necessary registrations & emails & documents & other such things to reincorporate herself into the 2nd semester of school. She doesn't answer phone calls from her parents anymore and pretends to not be home when they come by, even after they threaten to stop paying her rent (really out of genuine worry).

The actual like, "main" story has the writer guy as its protagonist trying to figure out why people have started recreating HIS stories in particular out of anybody else's. He eventually meets Mary and she's kind of a sidekick I think. But idrc about him RN cause he's kind of a loser if I am to be honest with you my liege....

Also that mannequin bust thing has a picture of him taped to its head. Mary stole the mannequin from the fashion design department's workshop rooms (I was gonna call em labs LOL I forgor) and only managed to get a female torso so she went "Well he's a guy and he doesn't have boobs... hmmm..." and then she carved out the mannequin's boobs #GENIUS. And I am seriously considering making the loser guy trans JUST so there's a moment of him telling Mary he's trans and her muttering under her breath "FUCK I wasted a perfectly good mannequin..." and he's like "Did you say something??" cause they're like covered in blood or whatever and Mary just goes "Oh nothing ^w^" . W PERVERT WOMEN

I will really go three whole months barely ever opening Procreate and only ever scribbling on my sketchbooks and then my brain's like Hey what if we tried drawing something :]? and then I stumble out of bed nearly 7 hrs later covered in blood... and the drawing isn't even halfway done and I only stopped cause my pen ran outta battery

[spicyspiders]

i’m already on my knees

I posted this a few weeks ago, but there was a glitch in tumblr’s system and it wasn’t showing up in the tag so I deleted it. Turns out none of my posts on this blog were showing up in the x male reader tag and the message tab on my blog was gone. It took a handful of emails to tumblr support and they said they fixed it. Hopefully this shows up in the tag, and if it does, I hope you enjoy. 

He pushes you against the wall, his lips still pressed to yours. When he pulls off, you’re both breathing heavily. A second later, one of his fingers is pressing into your mouth where his tongue just was. 

You let your head fall back into the wall with a soft thunk. You can’t help the whimper that leaves your throat and goes up into your mouth when the pad of his finger presses to the tip of your tongue. 

“Let me hear you,” he whispers into your ear, and then your mouth is opening and his fingers are leaving. 

You follow his request as his finger, wet with your spit, trails down your neck. Your noises of pleasure only grow when he presses his leg between your spread ones. The feel of his thigh against your cock creates the most amazing pressure that only has you rocking forward for more. 

He keeps kissing you and kissing you and kissing you. The pressure against your cock becomes continuous waves that crash over you. They start in your stomach until they travel through your entire body, from the tips of your fucking teeth to the soles of your feet that threaten to give way. It gets to a certain point that you have to turn your head away from his lips and pant into the air. 

“Could you come like this, baby boy?” He asks into your ear. 

“I don’t know,” you moan out. 

“I know you can, baby. Just take what you need,” he says. 

You follow his command again, pressing further onto his thigh. You feel filthy. Your kiss swollen lips let out louder moans as you get closer to your climax, and all you can do is surrender to the feeling when it hits. 

“Such a good boy,” you hear in front of you as you throw your head back and slam your eyes shut. Stars shoot off behind your eyelids as your hips stutter against his thigh as come in your pants. 

As you start coming down from your orgasm, you slide down the wall onto the floor. When you open your eyes again, you look back up at him and are met with his disheveled appearance. 

Eddie practically rips open his pants to get his cock out. His cock is directly right in your face as he jerks himself off. If you wanted to, you could wrap your lips around the head and taste the precome that’s gathered at the tip, but all you do is sit there. 

Eddie throws his head back when he comes, just like you did, except instead of against a wall it’s into the air that makes his hair fall from his face. Most of his come lands on your face, but a few strands of it goes into your open mouth. 

One of Eddie’s hands finds its way into your hair and tugs your head back, “taste good?” Eddie asks.

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part Two)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Butterflies getting caught in throats with no words to help explain. Time standing still with a heart breaking. Determination and a willingness to see it through float away in sleep.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw injury (nothing major, just a wrist injury)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 6644

Shoutout to @damianodavide​, who was a superb help on this chapter and the real life nurse behind this one ;) 😘

***

Damiano’s head was spinning. As soon as he closed his eyes, Y/n’s face appeared in front of him, eyes hooded, lips plumps from just having kissed him, and an expression that promised a need for more. It left him bothered in a way that he knew would not let him sleep until he took care of it. Trying to pretend it was her feminine hand instead of his own rather undignified touch, he reached into the waistband of his underwear immediately letting out a hiss at the contact. 

He was desperate for her, but if he couldn’t have her, his imagination would have to do. Pictures flashed through his mind as he moved his hand. Her on her knees, looking up at him through long lashes. He had already gotten a taste of the way she reacted when he complimented her, watching her eyes go wide as he called her a good girl. Her being good for him. Her on her back, ready to be devoured by him in any way he pleased. Feeling his hands go into her hair pulling her face up to look at him. Her bent over whatever furniture he could find, willing to let him have his way with her. Deeply, madly, irrefutably, he wanted it all. She was truly making him lose his mind. Her body and the way she moved were infatuating. Her laugh when someone did something dumb. The look in her eyes when she teased him back. He could still feel the kiss she left on his lips. He never wanted that feeling to end. Brava ragazza mia.

He came with an embarrassingly loud groan, unable to hold back or keep quiet. For a moment, in the silence, he wondered if anyone had heard. He was well aware that his room was surrounded by those of bandmates and crew, but he couldn’t remember who it was exactly anyway, and it didn’t bother him for long, his hazy mind drifting around once again. 

***

“Where is your mind at?” Y/n looked up as Victoria pulled her out of her thoughts unexpectedly. Y/n had stopped in Victoria's room after breakfast, trying to keep tabs on what everyone’s plans were on their day off. She had meant to get some work done as Victoria was busying herself getting ready, but it had ended up with her staring into the distance, laptop almost forgotten on her lap.

“Oh, sorry. I’m here, what were you saying?” 

“I asked where your mind is at.” Victoria fell forward laying on the bed. Y/n knew that the blonde was starting to learn to read her like a book and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

“Yeah, um, listen. What would you say to someone that may have absolutely decimated her career, by maybe accidentally kissing her boss while they were all high?” She didn’t dare look at the bassist, bracing herself for whatever negative reaction would potentially come from this.

Victoria sat up in surprise, eyes wide and the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “I’m going to need a lot more information than that.” Without giving in to Y/n’s slight protest, she removed the laptop from the assistant’s legs, closing it shut and putting it away. “Tell me everything.”

“Well, there wasn’t much to it really. We sat on the couch, you know that. And I said something stupid about how his eyes looked like chocolates, or maybe gemstones? I don’t quite remember. Anyway, then he pulled my hair out of the hair-tie. I went to kiss his cheek, but he turned his face. Fuck, it was bad. Not the kiss! He is very good at that! But I shouldn’t have done that. And then he just went ‘it's cool, it happens’. What does that even mean?!” She was talking much too quickly, getting it all out before the rational part of her brain would make her shut up. Make her remember she was talking to someone she’d only just started getting to know a week ago, who she was working for. “Then Thomas crashed and you know how that ended. Now I might be avoiding him. Just a bit.” She looked at Vic with a slight panic in her eyes, unsure if she had said too much.

Victoria, on the other hand, seemed delighted to no end, if a little shocked. “Wait, as if you kissed with all of us there and no one noticed!” She exclaimed, briefly pausing, contemplating, but shaking it off to get back to the conversation. “So… Good kiss, huh? Did you enjoy it then? Wanna do it again?” Her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Victoria! That is not what I am worried about here! I could lose my job. I- I could never show my face out there again if people found out. And I really enjoy this job, you know!” Her face scrunched a little bit, calming down with a sigh. “...But also, yes, he was a gentleman, and if he wanted to … kiss me again, I probably wouldn’t say no. But I also wouldn’t say yes. I work for you. This is not the time to be thinking about how much I enjoyed kissing Damiano!”

Her eyes went wide as her voice dropped to a whisper, looking down at her hands. “Ah fuck, I said that out loud.” 

“Okay, let’s look at it from a rational standpoint then.” Victoria turned slightly more serious at seeing her panic. “There is no way you’ll be losing your job over this. Maybe I wouldn’t advise hopping into bed with the whole band and crew, but we always got a tight-knit relationship with people we work with anyway, you know that. None of us would rat you out to management or anything. Plus, if you liked and Damiano liked it… wouldn’t it be a shame to worry about anything else instead of going for it?”

“I don’t know if he liked it. I was busy trying not to pass out, to be honest. I avoided him this morning by going straight to your room. I actually kind of avoided everyone, I’m scared the words of what happened will just come out to anyone who asks… Kind of like they just did with you.” She let out another deep sigh, switching between looking at her nails, picking at them, and out the window. “If he ...you know ... Then maybe. I honestly don’t even know what I would do with that information. On the off chance that he did like it though. And wanted to go for it then I’d consider it.” She tried to remain as put together as possible and, well aware that she was failing miserably. 

“Well, in that case, we have to find out what Damiano wants!” Victoria’s enthusiasm was back with a vengeance. “You should talk to him! Or should I talk to him? Maybe I should lock you in a room like those romcoms and threaten to not let you out again until you kiss.”

“Or you don’t do that because that is entrapment. I think I would be cool with you talking to him. But I still have to do my job. That comes first. Because as far as I am concerned,” Y/n got up and grabbed her laptop again, “it is business as usual. And last night was a fluke. Not to crush your rom-com dreams, love, but if I spoke to him I’d put my foot in my mouth faster than you can play bass.”

The smirk on Vic’s face didn’t promise anything good. “We’ll see about that, we’ll see,” she ominously muttered, before jumping up from the bed. “Now stop trying to pretend you got work to do, we’re going vintage clothes shopping.”

*** 

The thrift store turned out to be a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place, just off a side street - perfect for shopping in peace without getting much attention at all. Y/n hadn’t been all that keen on keeping the band company for this little adventure, but Victoria had insisted, claiming she needed a female perspective in case the boys were being stupid again. It had only taken a serious case of the puppy dog eyes to win her over, and Victoria found herself making a mental note to remember it.

The store was stuffed full of clothes, a kind of chaos that seemed to have an order that only the owner really understood. But it looked like heaven, and within seconds everyone had vanished into some corner or other, dying to find their newest favourite piece. For a moment, Victoria contemplated who she wanted to follow first, feeling the need to talk to at least two different people but also never wanting to miss out on a chance to go crazy with Thomas. Ended up deciding on Damiano. It seemed the more pressing issue. She hadn’t failed to notice how he would try to pretend that everything was normal, yet continuously evading Y/n’s eyes. She had kept her distance all the same. This wasn’t acceptable. She had to do something, Victoria decided.

She found the singer shuffling through some blouses, although much more half-heartedly than he tended to be when it came to vintage clothes. Looking out from the racks Victoria saw Y/n doing the same. She briefly considered how to go on about this - admit that Y/n had told her what had happened? Pretend she had actually seen the kiss last night? - but figured that Damiano would start talking on his own accord sooner or later. Especially if this was affecting him the way it was Y/n, and she was almost hoping it was.

“Okay, spill, what’s up with you today?”

Damiano shrugged, pulling a shirt out from the rack, and holding it against his body, waiting for Victoria's opinion. She raised a brow and put it back wordlessly.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he responded rather vaguely.

“Damia, you’ve barely spoken at all today. Normally you can’t shut up. And you know, I’d be thankful for some peace and quiet from you, but you’re actually worrying me. So what’s going on with you?” 

Damiano had a panicked look on his face as he scanned over the racks of clothes, his eyes flickering back and forth, obviously noticing Y/n shuffling through some things and slowly getting closer. Taking Vic by surprise, he dragged her into the dressing rooms. 

“Okay, that’s…. Weirdly intimate, but go on,” Vic mumbled to herself as he closed the curtain behind them, still nervously looking around the small space.

“Rather talk to you in here, than her hear me out there. I may have fucked up, royally.” He crossed his arms over his chest and Victoria was sure he would be burning a hole into the wall with his vision if he possessed that power. He was avoiding looking at her and she knew it.

“Explain,” she simply demanded, sitting down on the tiny stool in the corner and looking up at Damiano. She wanted to hear it from him, hear what had happened in his version of the story, hear what was bothering him so much.

“So we were at that bar, right? Y/n was sitting next to me. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you were there. Anyway. We were talking. I don’t know if it was the smoking or whatever else, but I looked at her and - I don’t know why I did this but I did. I pulled her hair out of her hair tie.” He leaned on the wall, his head hitting the brick behind him. He groaned but Vic assumed it didn’t have anything to do with the pain. “And… and she was so beautiful. Her hair just all around her. So soft. And at that moment, she was laughing and it sounded heavenly. And I went to look at her again and suddenly my lips were on hers…” His voice softened at the end, losing his train of thought and drifting. She had never quite seen him like this. “Then she was freaking out, and I told her some fucking stupid line like ‘it happens’. I just wanted her to calm down but… Now she must think I’d just...” He groaned, slumping a little and finally looking over at Vic. “Then she ran off to help Thomas.” 

“So, what you’re saying then is that you did enjoy it? Potentially wanna do it again?” She felt transported back to the conversation she’d had with Y/n just hours earlier, posing almost the exact same question. She had never been this involved with any of her friends’ relationships to this extent, but something told her that her help was desperately needed in this case.

He raised a brow at her. “Did you not hear the part where after we kissed she then proceeded to freak out? I doubt that she even wants to see my face right now.” A heavy sigh left him and Victoria found herself laying a hand on his arm. “And of course I want to kiss her again, Vic. I close my eyes and she is there. Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!” 

*** 

Y/n stood in the shoe aisle holding a pair of heels in her hand, contemplating for a second, before putting them on. Turning towards Ethan, who was walking towards her now, she realised it had eliminated all height differences between them. Definitely too high, she thought to herself. Holding onto his shoulders, she clumsily took them back off.

“Hey Ethan, find anything good?” The smile on her face felt forced but she was praying he wouldn’t see it.

He proudly holds up a black, studded belt with an intricate design on it, as well as a pink suede jacket. “How about you? I think I saw some nice trousers over there that might suit you. Wanna check it out?”

Y/n scoffed. She didn’t want to let her mood out on Ethan, trying her hardest to stay diplomatic. “Love the idea, but I doubt any of the clothes in here would go over my thigh. They’d fit you guys just great though. The jacket looks good, by the way.” She tried to distract herself from - well, everything - by putting the shoes away, mindlessly letting her fingers wander over the other pairs standing there.

Ethan looked at her in contemplation for a moment, but seemed to decide against following his train of thought. “At least try on some more shoes. Here, what about these?” He excitedly grabbed a pair of high-heeled boots, very much in the style she could see any of them wearing on stage - much less the one she usually went for when working.

A little intimidated, she took the shoes, if only to humour him. Ethan was nothing but a sweetheart, this was the least she could do. She put them on only with some slight struggle. She once again reached his height, almost amused by the feeling of seeing eye-to-eye with him, but the shoes felt strange. Very far removed from the usual flats, sneakers, boots, or whatever other pair that would allow her to keep running around all day without regretting it in the evening.

“Do I look silly?” 

“You look gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.” His voice had the most earnest tone to it and it was only supported by the way he studied her, looking her up and down. “Maybe walk a few steps to see if you can get used to it.”

She laughed as she proceeded to strut and partially dance some steps down the aisle to the song playing in the store. “I haven’t worn heels in so long, still got it though!”.” Her small smile grew into a grin, rather proud of herself for still being able to keep up. Going to the mirror near Ethan she looked at the shoes, then at herself in the shoes, then back at Ethan. Still, the insecurity took over for a moment. Her voice seemed small when she asked, “You think so?” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you like that,” he replied, putting a hand over his heart for emphasis. “Want to go and see what the others think? I saw Thomas over there, and Vic and Dami disappeared into that corner a while ago.”

“Right, good idea.” She walked over to the dressing room looking for Damiano and Victoria, figuring they had gone to try on some things. Well, she was mainly looking for Victoria, still uncomfortable at the thought of facing the singer. She was in the middle of calling out for them when Damiano’s voice seeped through the curtain instead. She didn’t mean to listen, only to wait for him to stop so she could interrupt, but the second she realised what he was saying she wished she had never come over.

“Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”

She stepped back. Frozen in place. Her heart was beating out of her chest, hurting, aching, breaking just that little bit. Processing what he had said seemed to happen not at all and then suddenly all at once. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. Anything but this suffocation. She needed to leave.

“I need some air.”

The words came out of her mouth much louder than anticipated, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that people were looking at her now. She didn’t care that was still wearing a pair of shoes that she had definitely not paid for yet. She just needed out, out, out, and away from all this. From him.

She didn’t realise she was walking on cobblestone until she wasn’t anymore, her ankle giving way, arms desperately trying to keep her from falling as she stumbled.

***

Damiano and Victoria stopped in their tracks as they heard someone approach from outside of the dressing room. Both heads turned towards the sound, when Y/n’s voice came through, telling maybe no one in particular that she needed some air. Her voice sounded strange. Damiano was convinced he had never heard that particular tone in it. As he threw back the curtain, he saw her stumble outside, clearly hectic, and he could feel a surge of panic run through him. Something wasn't right here. He forgot all about the conversation he was having, all about Victoria, and made his way outside. Not quite running, but the worry had him out of the door quickly. His heart sank when he saw her, lying on the floor just outside of the shop, holding her arm awkwardly, some scratches already beginning to bleed a little. As she looked up at him, he could see tears pricking at her eyes.

"Fuck, are you okay? What happened? I just saw-" The look on her face - or rather, the way she turned away from him - shut him up instantly. This wasn't the time to bombard her with questions. It didn't matter anyway. Instead of bothering her further, he quickly knelt down beside her, helping her sit up in return. He was acutely aware of the way she pulled away the second he touched her skin. Like she had been burned. ´

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Sorry to ruin the shopping trip, you can go back in if you want to," she mumbled, trying to wipe some tears away but instead spreading some dirt and drying blood onto her cheek instead. Damiano wanted to touch her, clean her up, dry her tears, but the way she had pulled away a minute ago made him not want to try. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm her more. He watched as she pulled out her wallet, handing it to him. "Go pay for the shoes please. And stop looking at me like that, I said I’m fine."

Yet, as soon as she moved, she winced in pain, taking a deep breath before getting herself up to a standing position. He found himself holding her arm in support, but she only accepted it for as long as necessary. As he let go, she let out a small cry of pain, obviously holding her hurt wrist the wrong way.

“You’re obviously not fine,” Damiano sighed. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, but she was already in tears, turning away, and it simply didn’t seem like a sensible option. He looked around at the others as they gathered around Y/n. Only Thomas was missing, probably still blissfully unaware inside the shop and browsing for clothes. He tossed the wallet to Ethan. “Would you mind paying for her shoes real quick?” Ethan nodded, walking back into the store. Y/n was still standing between them, holding her arm close to her body in a protective gesture. Almost a similar expression to the one she had had on her face on the plane all those days ago. He wondered if something was scaring her the way the turbulence did back then. 

“I am and will be fine, Damiano.” Her voice was stern. “I cry at a lot of things, this is no different. I wrap it up, put ice on it for a while and I’m golden.” 

He watched as Victoria put a tentative hand on Y/n’s shoulder. She didn’t pull away from her touch, he noticed. “Y/n, that really doesn’t look like nothing. Look, it’s starting to swell up already.” 

"What do you want me to do then?" She almost sounded resigned now as she looked back and forth between Damiano and Victoria. "We are in Amsterdam. I don't exactly have a GP on speed dial here. Now, where is Ethan with my wallet?"

She started walking towards the door of the shop, but Damiano defiantly held out his arm to stop her. "We are taking you to A&E."

Her face seemed to drain of all colour, and this time it was not because of the pain. "You are not taking me to a hospital."

Damiano looked at her, determination in his eyes, trying to make her understand that this was non-negotiable. Just for now,  he would forget about the way she was brushing him off, the way she was evading his touch, the way she did not even want to look at him. Because right now she needed him and he would be there for her, if she wanted him to be or not.

"Yes, I am. Final decision. You would do the same for us if we got hurt. But we're responsible for you too, you're part of our crew, and right now, being responsible means getting this checked out. Besides, you're not getting your wallet back until you agree."

As soon as Ethan stepped outside again, this time with a slightly confused-looking Thomas in tow, Damiano snatched the wallet from his hands only to put it in his own jeans pocket. She was mad, obviously turning whatever was bothering her into anger, but Damiano was having none of it and he hoped the look in his eyes told her so.

"Fine! Take me to the hospital. But know that I am not happy about this."

"I don't need you to be. I just need you to come with me."

***

A quick refresher of her rudimentary Dutch verified that she was indeed looking for "spoedeisende hulp", another search on the internet confirmed that there was a hospital nearby, and before she knew it, she had been whisked into a taxi with Damiano. The others had decided to make their way back to the hotel, no point in clogging up the waiting room. Damiano promised to call with any news immediately.

Y/n wouldn't tell him, certainly not right then and there but she was happy that Damiano seemed to take the lead for once. She wouldn't have had any problems had any of the others needed medical help - but having people fuss about her? Making her the center of attention in a way she did not intend to be and having to accept help from others?... It was a completely different story. Still she appreciated the way he handled the situation, making sure she got registered with the administration straight away, listening attentively for further instructions, and leading her into the waiting area. She was also glad that it seemed to be quiet, not only because it would result in less of a wait, but also because the bustling would have made her all the more nervous.

This was out of her comfort zone. She had managed to avoid hospitals for the majority of her life, and yet here she was, because she panicked and couldn't handle her shoes. Looking down at them, she wanted to curse them. Curse the fact that they made her walk over to Damiano and Victoria in the first place, curse the fact that she had heard Damiano speak about her that way, curse the fact that they carried her out the door but not much further. She didn't even know where her actual shoes were. Hopefully, Ethan had kept his head and collected them on the way out after paying.

A few seats down, someone coughed loudly, reminding her exactly of where she was. It wasn't the worst hospital she had ever been in, that much was true, but she would rather not see one from the inside at all. She was dying for some comfort, some soothing words, a gentle touch, but as soon as Damiano made any attempt at reaching out to her she pulled back. His words were still heavily playing on her mind, the swelling of her wrist and the heat that seemed to seep from it a painful reminder. There was no way she was going to let herself fall, be reassured and consoled by him when he was so obviously sick of her presence. She wouldn't do that to either of them. Victoria with all her good intentions be damned. At least right now. 

“Why are they not calling you in, it doesn’t even look like they’re doing anything,” Damiano grumbled next to her, eyes on the nurse’s station where a few of them were sitting. A few eyes were on them, something that looked like an excited discussion.

“Stop it, I’m sure they’re busy at work. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean they aren’t”, she bit back, slightly harsher than intended. He shot her a look, eyebrows raised, but she turned away, not looking to have a deeper conversation.

It left Damiano sitting in silence. Leaving both of them in the same situation, again. Y/n and him alone. Well, alone enough. Alone enough to not have anyone distract her from the uncomfortable feeling that settled over them. No Thomas being silly, no Victoria making a dumb comment, no calming presence of Ethan. Through this whole process, Y/n had basically crawled back into herself. She wished she could disappear.

She didn't know how much time had passed when they were finally called, too preoccupied with her own thoughts and the pain in her wrist. The nurse that beckoned them over had the warmest smile on her face, albeit tired eyes and it surprised Y/n how much comfort she found in the soft expression of the woman. White slacks, rolled up sleeves, pockets so full it looked like they were bursting at the seams, dark hair up in a bun. She found herself looking over at Damiano, wondering if he was aware of how gorgeous this woman was, how kind and calming her aura was, but his eyes were trained solely on her. She didn't allow herself to get lost in his gaze, quickly dropping hers and following the nurse into an examination room.

“Hi, I’m Ana, I’m going to be your nurse for today. You only speak English, am I correct?” She asked, gesturing for both of them to sit down, Y/n on the examination table and Damiano on a chair next to it. There was a slight twinge of an accent in her speech, but it was clear that she was fluent, which was a relief. Y/n didn’t even want to think about trying to get this done with the few words she knew in Dutch. She nodded, gratefully. “We’re going to go over what happened, and then I’ll do a physical examination, and the doctor will see you after as well.”

Y/n watched as the nurse fumbled with the computer, seemingly already typing things before Y/n had even said anything. “So, what exactly happened?”

“I, uh, tried on some heels and tripped on the cobblestone outside,” Y/n explained, taking a moment to glare at the offending shoes still on her feet. “Fell forwards, tried to soften the blow with my hands and now my wrist looks like this.” She held up the offending arm, gathering that the sight would speak for itself. The dried blood of the little scrapes on the palms of her hand did its best to make it look more dramatic than it felt.

“Oh, yeah that looks quite painful,” the nurse winced. “I see you’ve scraped your knee as well.”

Y/n looked down, slightly confused, only to realise her jeans had torn, revealing a beat-up knee underneath. Crap, she hadn’t even noticed, too occupied with… well, everything else. This felt like it was getting worse by the second, she never wanted to get back to a hotel room this badly. She felt like crying, but letting Damiano see her composure waver was the last thing she would allow.

“It’s nothing,” she sighed, moving her legs as if it gave her a chance of hiding her bruises.

“It’s not nothing, Y/n,” Damiano sighed next to her, before turning towards the nurse. “I think it’s more serious than she’s letting on.” In the same determined tone from before. 

The nurse looked back and forth between the two of them. “It’s probably the shock of it.”

Oh yeah, the shock. Mainly that of finding out that Damiano didn’t want her around, apparently.

The nurse asked a few more questions, time of the accident, previous medical history, medication she was taking regularly, but they barely reached her. She found herself answering curtly, with Damiano filling in where he could. She wouldn’t tell him she was thankful for it. Even though the idea of him taking care of her made her emotional. 

“Right, let’s get that wrist looked at then.” Y/n had feared it would be painful but as soon as the nurse started handling her? She knew it was her job to feel the joints, test her range of motion, move her arm. But unwelcome tears emerged in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t have the energy to push Damiano’s hand away, as she almost reveled in the comforting touch on her back. The small talk didn’t even begin to make for a distraction. Yet, something was nagging at the back of Y/n’s head as she watched the nurse interact with Damiano. There was a familiarity in her eyes… Did she know who he was? Surely not.

“This will need an X-Ray to make sure it’s not broken,” the nurse concluded, finally letting go of her wrist. Damiano whispered a quiet ‘You okay?’ over to her, but she couldn’t do anything but nod. “I will bandage the scrapes a bit while we wait for a doctor. So, what brings you to Amsterdam today?”

“Work,” Y/n answered, trying to keep some degree of privacy, but Damiano didn’t seem to mind butting in immediately.

“I’m in a band, we’re on tour. She’s our assistant and overall angel.” She wanted to shoot him a look, both at the unnecessary honesty and the over-the-top way he was describing her, but a touch to her banged-up knee distracted her.

A doctor popped into the room quickly verified everything the nurse had told him And before she knew it she was being led down a hallway to get an X-Ray. Damiano stayed behind in the room.

“Cute couple, the two of you,” the nurse piped up next to her.

“Um, yeah, no. Not a couple. Just a working relationship.”

“You sure about that?”

Y/n almost wanted to stop dead in her tracks, ask the nurse what on earth had given her that idea, but she also knew she was here to get examined and the last thing she wanted to do was annoy the person responsible.

“Very. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s made that crystal clear.”

“Well, he certainly doesn’t look like you in a way that suggests he doesn’t like you. If anything, I would have guessed he was head-over-heels for you.”

Y/n was stumped for a reply. Was this woman making fun of her? She didn’t look like someone who would. So why would she say these things? With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, Y/n decided she would have to talk to Damiano at some point. Have him either stand by his statement and back off, or explain what the hell he was doing. Because she was starting to lack comprehension about any of it.

She was glad the rest of the appointment seemed to fly by in a hurry, or maybe Y/n’s brain had simply gone into power-saving mode, not really taking it what as happening around her anymore. Her exhaustion was tangible. The X-Ray was done quickly enough, someone sent her back to the  examination room, and before she knew it, the doctor had announced that it was, in fact, not broken. A quick wrap around her wrist, some instructions on how to care for it (that Damiano seemed to listen to more closely than she did), and she was almost out the door. She was sure she would have fallen asleep on the examination table.  It was only the nurse quickly saying her goodbye and adding another comment that almost threw her off balance again.

“Bye, guys. And by the way, nice show yesterday. I promise I wasn’t the one who threw the bra.”

***

It was dark out by the time Y/n and Damiano made it back to the hotel. He had made sure to text the others, telling them to go for dinner without them, they’d be fine, and he figured she would need some rest. The hotel restaurant was quiet enough and he motioned towards it, but Y/n shook her head.

“I’ve got a few snacks in my room, but honestly, I’m not hungry at all. I just want to go to bed.”

Yet, tired as she was, it only took one pointed look for her to shut him up, so he simply nodded and led her towards the elevators.

“At least let me bring you to your room and see if you need any more help. And I can give you your wallet back.”

He could tell in the way she stiffened next to him, the way she barely reacted to his words, that she wasn’t keen on the idea, but he wouldn’t let her get away with it. He was desperate to find out what was bothering her and why she was so distant, but he couldn’t figure it out. Was the kiss still playing on her mind? Was she uncomfortable with him? It was the last thing he wanted. He needed to show her he was willing to be there for her.

Closing the door of her room behind him, a shout rang through the room.

“These fucking things, I hate them!” She was loud and angry while trying to get her shoes off, but her voice was wavering and if he watched her in just the right light he was convinced he was seeing the beginning of tears forming in her eyes.

“Shh, shh, it’s fine,” he tried to soothe, unsure if he was going about it the wrong way, but quickly bending in front of where she was sitting on the bed. She kicked her heels once more in frustration, obviously unable to get them off with her wrist still compromised.

“Don’t shush me when it’s all your fault,” she whispered and he almost stopped dead in his tracks, but he figured she hadn’t meant for him to hear. He stayed quiet, against everything in his heart telling him to find out what she was talking about. Instead, he focused on removing her shoes, gentle touches against her bare skin. Looking up at her, he realised that she was studying him, watching his every move, and he concentrated even harder on being the perfect gentleman. Yet, when he pulled the second shoe off her, he couldn’t help letting his hand rest on her calf a little longer than necessary.

“Come on, let’s get you into some pyjamas,” he decided, getting up and putting some distance between them. Too afraid of getting ahead of himself, of letting his hands wander more than appropriate places, of saying something he shouldn’t. He threw what he gathered to be her sleepwear in her general directions. “If you need any help changing because of your wrist, let me know.”

He hoped his smile was as sincere as he meant it. Either way, she didn’t give him much of a reaction, grabbing the clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. A few sharp hisses reached him through the door, but he knew better than to offer his help again.

He wasn’t sure what the acceptable place for him to sit was, but since the room didn’t offer anything but a worn-out armchair and the bed, he decided that choosing the far side of the mattress wasn’t too bad. He didn’t even realise she had left the en-suite until her voice reached him.

“We really need to talk, Damiano.” She sounded resigned and tired and he wished he could wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was alright, but it didn’t seem like the right time. As soon as she reached the side of the bed opposite him, she all but collapsed on it. She sleepily grabbed one of the many unnecessary hotel pillows they placed on the bed and nuzzled her face into it. 

“There will be more than enough time for that tomorrow,” he replied, grabbing the blanket and making sure she was fully covered by it. “It’s been a long day, try to get some rest.” 

She didn’t even manage to argue anymore, eyes already fluttering closed, breathing slowly becoming more steady. She was gorgeous like this. A soft calm overtaking the scene. No wall up that kept everyone else from her inner thoughts. No front that she put up in desperate attempts to remain professional. Just a softness etched into her features that highlighted her natural divine beauty.

He wanted to take her worries away. He hoped that whenever they did get to talk tomorrow, it would yield some clarity. The last thing he wanted was for her to ever feel this way. He had grown so attached to her, so obsessed with the idea of having her around, that he already feared the end of the tour. If she would give him any option to stay in her life, he would take it, whatever way it was.

Damiano barely noticed the way he was slipping down on the mattress, his fingers softly patting her head, eyelids getting heavy. The last thing on his mind was Y/n, sleeping soundly next to him and wishing for nothing but to make her happy.

***

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[kaidenfm]

𝑭𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑬

summary →  kaiden gets very very drunk and crashes his car . he wakes up handcuffed to a hospital bed , an officer informs him that he’s being booked for drunk driving , driving without a license and destruction of property . he’s finally arranged and sentenced . he spends a month in jail , a two months in rehab and then is finally allowed to go home . 

featuring →  brief mentions of his mom persephone sinclair  ​

triggers →  drinking , drugs , police 

“      i'm  sorry  i  haven't  been  myself  ,  something's  got  me  down  .  what  it  is  ,  i cannot  tell  .      ”

kaiden had never felt this way before . sure sadness he was used to but it was never a boulder rolling down a hill of anguish threatening to squish him like the bug he was . long talks with everyone around him had left him feeling like there was a weight around his ankles . the heft of their expectations was a burden he was unsure if he could bear . he promised that he’d try . so he did , tucked away the parts of him that were jagged and rough into the dark dank basement they’d crawled from , but some demons aren’t as easily forgotten as others . i deserve just one final night out . that was the expectation he’d set for himself ; just one night , just one drink , just one cigarette but one turned into two , which turned into three and by then he stopped counting all together .

the night started like this , loud music from the club speakers rattled his bones , the beat of it so strong he thought it was his own heartbeat thumping from his feet to his fingertips . he held a glass of tequila in one hand , a blunt in the other , lines of coke cut up on the table in front of him . he’s not sure of the name of the girl in his lap , just that her skin feels like the softest silk , her breath on his neck made every part of him stand on edge . her walls were a warm comfort that pulled him deeper and deeper . staggering from the bathroom in a haze , bleary eyes trying ( and failing ) to blink the world into focus , shaky breath hands reaching for the walls as he feels his way back to his table . i need to sober up . the line of coke left energy surging through him like a fresh cup of coffee . the world sharpened under his focused gaze . eyes tracing over the bodies pressed together squeezing closer and closer still until they were one being . then another drink is shoved in his hand and thoughts of the anamorphic blobs that swayed to the beat fading to the back of his mind as a cheshire grin swallowed his face .

last call came faster than he’d thought . the dark lights exchanged for the fluorescent whites . everything looked different in that light , the people around him no longer friends but leeches who’d attached themselves to the thing with the most money , still he paid his tab and lurched towards his car . the hum of the engine is a familiar hug , hands squeezing the wheel as his mind spun . it took a moment before he registered that the crunch in his ears was his car scraping along the brick wall as he peeled out of the emptying parking lot . his eyes wanted to close with each blink but he never slowed . pressing harder on the pedal while he zipped in and out of traffic . the rush of air on his face was the only thing cooling the fire that raged in his belly . let it go , just ignore it , just forget it , just accept it , just be better. he wished that he could do that . it sounded so simple when it came from their lips but nobody seemed to understand that his emotions weren’t a switch he could flick . they were a wildfire that ravaged everything in their wake . just when you thought you’d gotten the flames contained, a spark sets off a chain reaction that ignites it all over again . flying through red lights and even clipping a car along the way he hit the wall hard . placed the car in park and fell into the plush mattress . it was a standard drive home for him .

“      never  feeling  like  i'm  all  the  way  home  .  stones  inside  my  raincoat  pocket  ,  i  gotta keep  . oh  ,  won't  you  hold  them  for  me  ?      ”

when his eyes opened he wasn’t in his bed . brows furrowing one hand reached to rub his eyes but was jerked back to his side . a clinking drawing focus on the metal attaching his wrist to the bed . tugging at the handcuff wild eyes searching for his mother . she’ll know what's going on . she always knows . but he doesn’t find persephone, instead they find an officer who sneered in his direction , “ oh good , you’re awake . kaiden sinclair , you’re under arrest . ” they listed off the charges and with glee . each one made eyes widen ; drunk driving , driving with a suspended license , dui hit and run , destruction of government property and reckless endangerment . “ wha.. ? ” brows furrowing as he shook his head , “ i don’t know what you’re talking about . i didn’t destroy anything . i drove home last night . you’ve got to be thinking of someone else . ”

that drew a laugh , “ you don’t even remember what happened ? ” his head shook furiously mind desperately going through the events of last night . i drove home . i was home . i know i was . the officer pulls out their phone a youtube video titled “ SINCLAIR SON’S WILD NIGHT OUT ! ” it’s a compilation of footage . the video starts with him fumbling with his car keys , “ that’s you right ? ” he nodded in confirmation before turning back to the footage. it took at least four tries for him to unlock the door , then you see the long swipes of cracked paint and dented metal on his precious porsche as he whipped out of the lot . then it cuts to his car running a red light , clipping a honda and then continuing on . it ends with his car crashing at full speed into a fire station . the garage door smashing open as the car rammed into it only slowed when he hit the firetruck . then you see his body being pried from the car , paramedics surrounded him , then moving his car out of the way so an ambulance could pull out lights flashing . the screen goes black and the officer places the phone back in their pocket . he doesn’t say anything else . turning onto his side he stared at the walls .

a doctor enters the room , they never even glance in his direction , instead telling the officer , “ we want to keep him for one more day then he’s okay to be discharged . ”

“ can i see my mom ? ”

the doctor only turns to leave the officer rolls their eyes before snapping in response , “ no visitors . ”

“      and  you  got  a  lot  on  your  mind  and  your  heart,  it  looks  just  like  mine  there's  no  use  in  wasting  your  time  ,  anymore  .      ”

he’s used to this part . he tried to commit every building to memory during the long drive to the police station . unsure of when he’d be able to see this part of town again his heart thumped harder and harder . his fingerprints are taken once again and he couldn’t help but wonder why this has to happen every time he’s arrested while wiping the ink against his jeans . they shuttle him off to another part of the station to take his picture . his stomach dropped as he held the placard . there was no way this would be publicized . his mugshots lined up in a row for the world to see his slow descent into madness . he’s used to sitting in a cell , a phone shoved in his hand while he’d call someone to come get him . it’d usually take a few hours but they’d show up , give him a lecture , and drive him home . this time he’s not in the cell for long before they place cuffs on him and they’re shoving him down the ramp cuffing his feet to the bottom of a van that moves slower than he thought possible . county jail isn’t as terrifying as he thought it’d be . he has his own cell and every few days he’s allowed to use the phone . his lawyer came to visit him on his fifth day in , “ you’re about to be taken down for your arraignment , don’t say anything , don’t do anything stupid . please . ”

the judge glowered at him , “ this is the fourth time i’ve seen you just this month . i told you last time you were here that i didn’t want to see you again . ”  

“ i know , i apologize your honor . ” the judge listed the charges that’d be filed against him , including two additional charges the officer hadn’t listed . gulping when the judge finished the list and asked if he understood . “ yes, your honor . ”

“ now i want you to be clear about this . you will be going to jail , there is some discussion about the amount of time you’ll spend there , but if this is resolved today understand that there will be jail time . i don’t want you to be a repeat offender , i want you to be able to move on with your life , to reach your full potential . how do you plead ? ”

“ no contest . ” they nod a ghost of a smile on their face, making kaiden’s mind spin . is that good ? is it bad ? did i make the wrong choice ?

“ okay . i’m going to sentence you to ninety days in the county jail , with leniency for behavior , and two years probation . terms of your probation are as follows ; you are not to drive , consume alcohol or illegal drugs . you are required to complete a sixty day drug treatment program . after which be subject to random drug testing at the rate of once a week . you are to see a therapist once a week for at least six months . you must find a reliable sponsor , outside of your family , hopefully someone who is not moved by anything other than seeing you succeed will help you properly cope without turning to drugs or alcohol . you are required to attend all of your alcohol classes as scheduled , the only time you are allowed to cancel is if you are taking a random drug test , the drug test is the priority . you are to do fifty days of community serve at the county morgue , they will help you set up a schedule . do you understand ? ” he nodded solemnly before the judge waved to the officers to take him away .

before they take him he’s allowed to stop before his family , “ i’m sorry . ” he whispered tears in his eyes as comforting arms were wrapped around him . “ i’m sorry . ” they’re pulling him away and that’s all he can muster up the courage to say . 

the first month was the hardest . jail time wasn’t as fun as he thought it’d be he relished the day they came to put him in rehab . there weren’t any drugs but at least the food was good and his parents could come visit , though he turned away asher any time he tried to appear , the day before he was released he had an extra session with his therapist . they wanted to make sure he could handle it , if he was honest he wasn’t sure if he could but without hesitation he answered , yes . 

[rocorambles]

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Pairing: Iwaizumi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Cop and Criminal AU (Cop Iwaizumi, Criminal Reader), NSFW, Sex Toys, Degradation, Overstimulation, Bondage

Summary: Bad girls get punished. And criminals who go out of their way to make Iwaizumi’s life hell on a routine basis deserve extra special punishment.

Author’s Note: This is for the NSFW Haikyuu HQ Gifting Event! @multifandhoem I hope you enjoy~ (I really got carried away with the plot in this fic. One day I will learn how to write porn without plot, but for now, please accept my porn with way too much plot.)

Irritating Iwaizumi Hajime might be your favorite activity in the world. There’s just something so satisfying about watching his usually calm and stoic face shatter into an angry feral mess. And maybe, just maybe, something deep in your belly stirs as he growls and snarls at you, something primal in you writhing in excitement as he bares his teeth at you and chases you. 

You’ve lived a life of sins and crimes for as long as you can remember, but hard work has taken you a long way. So really, there isn’t any need for you to continue your petty thieving ways. You’re set for life with the money you’ve accrued from the countless successful exchanges you’ve made. It’s almost obscene just how much people are willing to pay for a few shiny stones or swatches of paint on a canvas. 

And yet you can’t help yourself from revisiting your bad habits of creeping in the shadows, analyzing floor plans, strategizing routes. Only now, your plans are centered around a brooding spiky haired cop with the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen instead of the number of zeros at the end of a number. 

You don’t know exactly what about Iwaizumi resonates so strongly with you. Sure, he’s handsome, but you’ve run into your fair share of handsome officers. You dare say Officer Sawamura could give Iwaizumi a run for his money in the looks department.

Maybe it’s the hints of wildness you see underneath his straight-laced façade. 

Maybe it’s the fire you see blazing behind his reserved countenance.

Whatever it is has you keeping tabs on him, has you concocting plans just sloppy enough for Iwaizumi to get tantalizingly close to you, but put together enough to have you escaping his grasp each and every time. And you cackle at the way his eyes light up when he thinks he has you pinned down, only to furiously scowl at your retreating figure when you taunt him with a flirtatious air kiss and a cheeky “maybe next time, sir”. 

It’s an endless game of cat and mouse, but you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it. And you’re beginning to suspect that even Iwaizumi finds it amusing to a certain degree. 

You had been at a loss for words when the officer had merely trudged into the jewelry store you had been waiting for him in at your last heist, only to casually lean against the wall, folding his arms across his chest as he regarded you holding the store’s most expensive strings of diamonds and pearls in your hands, teasingly holding them up to his face. And you hesitantly lower your arm, unsure what to do as the silence and stillness of the night stretches. 

There’s no growled threats or pointed firearm in your face like there usually would be right about now. And you swear there’s a hint of a smirk on the handsome face across from you as the two of you just stand there, stuck in the strange heady tension filling the air. 

But you almost drop everything you’re holding at Iwaizumi’s next words. 

“If you want my attention that badly, there are better ways of going about it.” 

It’s Iwaizumi’s turn to laugh as your trademark smirk falls off the lower unmasked part of your face and he confidently saunters over to you, strong arms boxing you in against the glass counter, enjoying the rush of power he feels about the tables finally turning as you shyly look anywhere but at him. And something roars triumphantly inside of him when you gasp as he hooks his hand under your chin and forces you to meet him gaze on. 

“I’ve spent the last few months wracking my brain for answers. Why were you suddenly committing so many meaningless robberies? Robberies of stores and items so far beneath your caliber? Was it just coincidence that you were only committing crimes on the routes and nights I was working? Was I just imagining that it seemed like you were actively trying to avoid injuring me every time we clashed? None of it made any sense. But then your stupid flirting started and it made me think that maybe there was some rhyme and reason to your suddenly erratic behavior after all.” 

There’s silence as he lets you register his words and the rattling of jewelry as he plucks the expensive strands out of your hands and carelessly tosses them back in their case. But he softly smiles when you don’t deny his words and make no move to push him away or escape. 

“I believe in new beginnings and fresh starts, so when you’re done with your thieving ways, come find me. I’m curious about the woman under the mask.” 

It’s weeks before you have the courage to even secretly trail after Iwaizumi again after that encounter and even then, you don’t do anything but keep watch over him. 

His words echo in your mind and you don’t have the urge to steal and ring an alarm to beckon him towards you. Not when the greatest treasure of all is just within your grasp whenever you’re ready to summon the will to finally reveal your identity and meet him person to person in broad daylight instead of slithering around each other in the twisted tango of cop and criminal. 

But you aren’t ready yet and you merely keep tabs on him for now, curiosity and protectiveness getting the better of you, and if Iwaizumi notices the moving shadow that seems to follow him wherever he goes, he doesn’t bring attention to it. There’s something comforting, maybe even endearing, about how you’ve become a guardian angel of sorts to him, especially with the increasing body count and grizzly crimes being committed. And although he wishes you were safe and sound, tucked far away from the ricocheting bullets and corpses, his heart warms at the bouquet of lilies he finds on his doorsteps when he stumbles back home, empty and defeated, the weight of his partner’s death from a particularly bloody shootout still fresh on his mind. 

There’s no note, no letter, but he knows. Knows that it could only be you, knows that no one outside of his team or the criminals they had been fighting with could possibly know about the death so soon unless they happened to witness the scene. And that night he sobs himself to sleep, clutching your flowers to his chest, unaware of the way you forlornly stare at him from the roof across the street, heart aching and wishing more than anything that you weren’t such a coward, that you were brave enough to slip inside and comfort him in person. 

But life has a funny way of working, of not caring if you’re ready or not and your lives crash together once more in an unexpected way. 

Iwaizumi is promoted to lead the new task force aimed at squashing down the rising crime syndicates. You’re proud of him, but you can’t quell the anxiety that courses through you as you watch every raid that takes place, wondering if and when the day will come where he’ll be outmaneuvered, keeping your own skills sharp, praying that you’ll never have to use them again, but just in case…

And you thank whoever’s listening that you had kept up with your training as Iwaizumi’s team is ambushed and overpowered one night. Your heart drops and bile rises in your throat as officer after officer crumples to the floor, but you force yourself to calm down, to find an internal steady rhythm as you glide through the shadows, swiftly and secretly making your way towards the man you’ve become so attached to. 

You fight down the panic when you finally reach him, try to still the tremble in your hands as you quickly scan the growing dark red stain spreading across his shirt from his wounds, almost collapsing in relief when you find that they’re all superficial wounds, nothing life threatening or critical. 

The silent scuffle between the two of you is awful and you’re thankful that blood loss and pain have weakened him as you forcefully drag him away, nails gripping tightly into his skin as you roughly lead him to your apartment despite his struggling, despite his desperate desire to go back and help his few remaining teammates. And you’re both fiercely snarling at each other when you’re finally safe inside your apartment, fury raging in both of you as you snap at each other. 

“You should have let me stay and help!”

“So that you could end up dead like the rest of them? You were clearly outpowered and outnumbered!”

“Well you should have just let me die then, instead of helping me escape like a coward.” 

A resounding crack echoes throughout the room and it takes you some time to register the smarting pain in the palm of your hand and the fresh red mark on Iwaizumi’s cheek. But before you can even stutter an apology, a hand is fisting the front of your shirt and lips are crashing against yours in an angry impassioned act and you whimper as you are forced to taste his frustration and gratitude, his losses and gain, his despair and hope. 

And when he disconnects and the two of you gasp for much needed oxygen, you stand in the middle of your apartment, arms wrapped around each other, only the sounds of Iwaizumi’s sobs and your comforting words flitting through the air as he buries his face in the crook of your neck and you rub soothing patterns on his back. 

The rest of the night is a domestic peaceful drawl and you gently lead Iwaizumi to an armchair in your living room before scurrying away to rummage for your first aid kit and returning to kneel between his legs as you clean his injuries, apologizing as he winces at the sting of warm water and soap against his open wounds. There’s a soothing flow as you tend to him and you relax with every swipe of the towel, fingers and hands lingering just a tad longer than they should on his skin. But you stiffen when his uninjured arm raises and calloused fingers lightly trace the bottom of your mask. 

There’s an unspoken question in the way he delicately plays around with the corners of the fabric, but it seems deafening to you as your heart races. Maybe it’s the pure intentions in his eyes or the fact that your walls are weakened in the confines of your apartment, but either way, you don’t pull away, tilting your head up and stilling in silent confirmation. And something flutters in your chest as he gingerly removes your mask, heat rising to your face as green eyes stare at your face in awe for the first time, fingertips tracing every inch and line, mapping every groove reverently. 

It feels like eternity before you resume dipping the towel into the soapy water and treating him. But bandaged and deemed well, Iwaizumi is ushered to your shower and you shove a pile of clean towels and the largest loungewear you have into his hands, fully intent on locking him in the bathroom as you get a grip on yourself. But he has different plans in mind and you’re speechless as he firmly grasps your wrist before you can retreat with your tail between your legs. 

“Stay with me. Please.”

How could you possibly deny those honest eyes? 

Swipes of a soapbar against skin become intimate caresses and before you fully register what’s happening, you’re being pressed against the wall as Iwaizumi plunders your mouth, rough hands roaming all over your body as he fully explores everything you have to offer. You whimper as the hot water is suddenly turned off, the cold air crashing against you, but you let out a content sigh as a hot body wraps you in its embrace, carrying you to the sanctuary of your plush bedding. And all you know before you blissfully pass out is the sound of your wanton moans as you break apart over and over again, on Iwaizumi’s tongue, fingers, and cock, tears and drool cascading down your face as you alternate between begging for more and crying for him to let you rest before you ultimately pass out from the deliriously overwhelming ecstasy.

The sun is barely creeping in, a few slim tendrils slipping past the cracks of your window blinds when his eyes flutter open and something warm spreads in his chest as he slowly turns to observe your still soundly sleeping figure, a small upward quirk of his lips betraying how right it feels to wake up beside your vulnerable state. And although he can’t deny the allure of your body creeping through the night, he thinks that you’re the most beautiful like this, unmasked and body unconsciously seeking his presence and warmth as you curl into his space, your face nuzzling into his chest, head perfectly settled under his chin, the soft glow of sunlight enhancing your natural beauty. 

But he grimaces as his alarm continues to blaringly ring in the background, frowning as he reluctantly separates himself from you and carefully untangles himself from your bed sheets, quietly traipsing out of your room and dialing a number on his phone when he’s out of your earshot.   

Guilt and dread claw at him as the ringtone goes on and on and his throat is dry when he hears the authoritative voice through the speakers. 

“Iwaizumi? Are you okay?!”

Iwaizumi wishes he had a glass of water as he chokes out a polite greeting and he can feel hot tears prick at his eyes as he ceaselessly apologizes. Apologizing for abandoning his men. Apologizing for a failed mission. Apologizing for being such a failure as an officer, as a leader. 

But he quickly shuts up at the sharp tone that pierces his ear as Sawamura barks his name and he waits and waits, holding his breath, preparing to give up his badge, only to splutter in surprise at the warm relieved chuckle echoing across the speaker. 

“I’m glad you’re at least well enough to give me a headache with your wallowing. Good men died and we’re going to feel their loss for a long time. I won’t deny that. But no one blames you, Iwaizumi. You’re a good man, a great officer, and an even better leader. Rest up, grieve, mourn. Do whatever you need to do for the next few days. And when you’re ready, I expect to see you in my office so we can strategize about how we’re going to honor our fallen teammates by giving these criminals hell.”

He barely has time to stammer a “yes, sir” before the line clicks shut and the tears finally roll down his face as he clutches his phone in his hands, bittersweet gratefulness and sorrow blending together. And as his cries come to an end, a determined glint flickers in his eyes as he wipes the last of the salty trails away, the resolve of a man seeking vengeance forming inside of him. 

But that could wait until he was back in the swirl and chaos of the precinct. For now, he has other loose ends to tie and he quietly walks back to your room, smiling at the sight of your still slumbering figure nestled in your blankets as he makes his way towards you, intent on slipping back underneath the covers besides you. But he lets out a muffled pained curse as his foot knocks over a box besides your bed, the crash of objects dispersing across the wood floor rattling you awake, and you blearily blink your eyes open only to stare in shock and horror as Iwaizumi curiously holds up a set of black bondage restraints and a jeweled butt plug from among the scattered items, before sending an amused look and a quirked brow your way.    

If you were drowsy before, you’re wide awake now as you lunge out of bed, throwing yourself at Iwaizumi as you frantically try to regain possession of some of your most intimate belongings, pouting when he holds the items out of reach, a mischievous grin on his face as he looks down at you. 

“Are you familiar with the stoplight system?”

You pause your futile jumping as you try and bat your toys out of his hands, balking at the underlying meaning in his question, waiting for him to just laugh it off and move on. But when all he does is bring a warm hand to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone as he patiently gazes at you, letting you make the final decision, you melt and lean into his touch, shyly nodding your head as you blissfully sigh at the way it feels so right for him to be touching you. 

“Words, princess. I’m not going to be gentle. Not after all the teasing and headaches you’ve caused me. So I need to be sure you’re ok with this, that it’s what you want.” 

Brief descriptions of red, yellow, and green are barely out of your mouth before you’re suddenly being forcefully shoved onto the bed, body instinctively flailing in self-defense as you try to register what’s happening while binds are roughly being wrapped around your wrists and ankles. But you mewl in arousal as Iwaizumi’s weight settles on top of you, his hard chest pressing you against the bed as he dexterously ties you up until you’re in a spread-eagled position underneath him, unable to move even an inch. And your breath hitches at the hungry look he pins you down with as he sits back and enjoys the view of your trussed up body on complete display for him. 

But you grow impatient as the minutes drag by and Iwaizumi gives you an unimpressed look as you begin to fight against your restraints, whining for him to get on with it already. And he shuts you up with a punishing pinch to your inner thigh that has you yelping before getting up from the bed and perusing your box of toys. 

You crane your neck in every way as you try to get a sneak peek of what he has in store for you, but Iwaizumi puts that idea to a screeching halt as he slips a blindfold around your head and all you know is darkness and anticipation. Despite the way you try to intently listen for any warning, you squeal in surprise when a hot wet mouth latches onto one of your nipples, fingers tweaking the other and your entire world narrows down to your two perky buds, the lewd wet sounds of sucking filling your ears. Mouth and hands alternate and you can’t keep up with the fluctuating patterns, your breath coming out in pants, your pussy beginning to glisten with arousal, and you sigh in relief when the assault stops, glad to have a moment of reprieve, only to wail when the intense pressure of nipple clamps sears through you, the cold weight of the chain connecting the two clamps piercing your senses as it settles onto your skin. 

Pain and pleasure echo through your mind so loudly that you don’t sense Iwaizumi moving until fingers suddenly slip inside your dripping pussy and your back arches, the nipple clamp chain jingling with the movement and a rush of humiliation courses through you when Iwaizumi chuckles, commenting on how wet you are already. 

“I was going to prep you a bit more, but looks like this cock hungry hole is more than ready.” 

You’re practically salivating as something hard nudges against your entrance, already delirious just from the prospect of being filled with Iwaizumi’s cock once again, but enthusiasm turns to confusion which turns to pleasured shock as your rabbit vibrator is shoved inside of you and immediately set to its highest setting, your clit and walls stimulated so sharply, so suddenly. 

It’s so good, but it’s not enough, it’s too much, it’s not what you want. 

“Haji-Hajime, please. Want to cum on your cock. Don’t want a toy! Too much. At least turn it down. Haji-AHHHH!” 

You scream as you’re forced to an orgasm, body convulsing, jaw going slack, and you wait for the toy to be removed, wait for the settings to be lowered, only for dread and disbelief to fill you as a sticky thick substance is being inserted into your puckered hole, a lubed finger slowly entering you, taking its time to explore and spread your tight hole as the vibrator continues to ravage your pussy and clit at full intensity. And drool begins to seep from the corners of your mouth as you tumble headfirst into overstimulation as a plug replaces the fingers inside of your ass, nestling inside of you as you come to terms with the overwhelming feeling of being double stuffed. 

“Ha-Hajime please please please. Too much. I can’t-”

The plug inside of you is teasingly pulled just enough for you to feel the stretch of your hole, only to be shoved inside you once again and words are too hard to think of as the vibrator is thrust in and out of you, the slick sounds of your gushing cunt embarrassingly loud even above your whimpers. 

“Maybe I should make you cum for every robbery you ever committed. Maybe then you’ll actually behave and be a law-abiding citizen. Would you like that? Being too fucked out to even think about breaking the law?”

“No! Please! I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I swear. Just please let me rest.” 

“Sorry, princess. Bad girls need to be punished.” 

A strangled sob escapes you as the vibrator is pushed even deeper inside of you, the smaller tip grinding even further into your clit and your cries are swallowed as Iwaizumi settles besides you, affectionately capturing your lips with his as he watches you break apart once again, smirking as your body and face try to draw closer to him, seeking comfort and relief as overwhelming pleasure drowns you. 

But he doesn’t stop. Not even when your begging and pleading turns into incoherent babbles and wanton noises. Not even when you’re too tired to even move, your body only twitching here and there from overstimulation, completely slack and mindless as pleasure melts your brain into mush. 

Only when the vibrator finally runs out of batteries hours later, the mechanical whirring coming to an end, does he finally relieve you of the object and you dazedly stare at him as he removes your tear-stained blindfold, slumping in relief that it’s finally over, wanting nothing more than to curl up in Iwaizumi’s arms and sleep for a long, long time. 

But he has other plans for the two of you and even in your exhausted state, your eyes fling wide open and you weakly whimper as he positions himself in between your legs, guiding his cock to your spent hole and easily slipping inside before caging you with his arms.

Your eyes roll back at the sudden intrusion and despite how wrecked you are, how used you feel, arousal once again begins to coil up inside of you as your walls accommodate the new object. 

All you can think about is the cock inside of you. All you can think about is the way it fills and stretches you. All you can think about is the way it drags against your sensitive walls as Iwaizumi begins to piston his hips in a brutal steady rhythm. 

The room is a cacophony of Iwaizumi’s grunts, your broken moans, the sound of skin slapping against skin and you can feel yourself losing to the pleasure as the now all too familiar knot in your stomach tightens once again, your body tensing and pulling taut against your restraints as something builds up inside of you. 

Iwaizumi isn’t doing much better, so pent up from watching you beautifully fall apart over and over again in front of him, so close to the real thing as he hovers above you, memorizing the blissed out look on your face, mentally recording every gorgeous sound that slips past your lips, and this time it’s all because of him. 

He increases his pace, groaning as your walls tighten around him as if they don’t ever want him to leave them empty, something feral inside of him howling as your mouth opens in a silent scream as you crash one last time, your body shaking and trembling, your cunt spasming around him as he spills long thick stripes inside of you. 

When there’s nothing left to give, every last drop of his essence deep within you, your body boneless and limp beneath him, he gently lays on top of you, burying his face in the space besides yours, murmuring praises and words of affirmation as he blankets your body with his. 

And when you finally come back to him, eyes looking a little more clear, voice regaining your sassy tone as you demand that he undo your restraints, he’s more than happy to oblige, carefully releasing you, rubbing every sore limb, letting you use him as your personal body pillow as you throw your arms and legs around him and bury your face into his chest, almost instantly falling into a deep exhausted slumber in the safety of his presence. 

There will be proper, much needed conversations and discussions when the two of you are both awake, sitting across each other with steaming mugs of coffee placed in front of you, hesitantly yet hopefully probing for answers. What are the two of you? What does the future hold for both of you? 

But for now, Iwaizumi lets his eyes shut, lets himself be lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as he holds you close to him, protectively curling around you as sleep embraces him.

[backtothefanfiction]

WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW | Chapter 4

A TRIPLE FRONTIER STORY

Summary: Drama ensues when Santiago tracks you down in Italy and tries to get you to go on the Triple Frontier mission with him.

Warnings: VERY Mature 18+ ONLY!! Read this chapter around others at your own peril. Angst, murder, gun violence, language, references to drug use, SMUT!, dom!Santiago, oral (female receiving), light bondage, edging, squirting, thigh riding, slight degradation, dirty talk.

Word Count: 8177

A/N- I don’t know what else I can say about this chapter other than I am sorry. This chapter ran away with me and became a fucking monster. I hope it lives up to the hype, even if it isn’t what you expected, I hope it still satisfies and shocks. Frankie fans have been very patient and I know this chapter is going to tease you but trust me, it’s worth it for how the rest of this story will go. So without further ado, here’s what went down in Italy.

PART FOUR | What happened in Italy.

----------------------------

'Hey I need to talk to you about something.'

'I've got this recce I'm doing and could really do with your help.'

'Hey did you get my text.'

'Did I do something wrong? Why are you ignoring me?'

----------------------------

You scanned the messages on your phone once more before looking up at your reflection in the bathroom mirror before you. You rested your hands against the top of the sink, the phone digging into your palm as you pressed it against the porcelain. You couldn't deal with this, not right now. You reached for your clutch, wresting on the ledge before you, as another girl entered the bathroom through the door to your right, the music from the club growing louder before being dimmed again. You made polite eye contact, smiling at the girl before she closed herself inside one of the stalls.

You closed the thread of text messages from Santiago, dropping the phone back into your bag. You took a moment to fix your hair and your dress before making your way back out in to the heart of the club.

The base of the speakers passed heavily through your body as you made your way back to your group in the VIP booth. You had been in Italy for almost six months, infiltrating the Italian mob, becoming the girlfriend of one of the high ranking members to get information. Vincenzo reached his arms out, encouraging you to come sit on his lap so he could show you off to his company. You felt his hand come to rest against your ass, rubbing it slightly and you had to use all your effort not to roll your eyes and fake gag, instead turning your head closer towards him and giggling innocently into his neck.

You had rested your bag against your bare thigh and you could feel your phone begin to vibrate through the fabric as someone tried to call you. You attempted to ignore it, leaning against Vincenzo, you took a moment to look over his shoulder out the window behind you and down to the people on the street. The Italian continued to talk to his company,  oblivious to the fact you were a spy and retaining everything they were saying. He almost completely ignored your presence and you listened intently to the information he was sharing.

You felt your phone begin to vibrate inside your bag once more and rolled your eyes. You didn't need to check it to work out who it was. No doubt it was the same man you'd been trying to ignore for the last 7 days. You rolled your eyes before leaning to say into Vincenzo's ear, “Vado al bar, torno subito.” I'm going to the bar, I'll be right back.

He gave you a kiss on the cheek and a small nod of acknowledgment, slapping your ass for good measure as you stood, this time you really did roll your eyes in disgust. You reached your fingers into your bag, rooting for your phone, which was now ringing for the third time in a row, as you made your way towards the bar. You looked down at it to see Santiago's name before looking back at your target in the VIP booth, trying do decide if it was worth taking the risk and answering the call.

“Santi I'm working right now, can we do this later.” you asked into the phone, your voice blunt.

“Sorry querida, I didn't realise, I was just calling to say, I like that dress.” your eyes widened at his words, your head whipping around to scan the crowd for him. “You know it's very short, I got a very good look at your ass when you stood up.”

“Santi?” your voice was both a warning and question as you struggled to find his face amongst the club attendees.

Santiago watched you carefully through the scope of his sniper rifle across the street, struggling to stifle a small chuckle as your eyes scanned the room you were in intensely, looking for him. “You know you're not gonna find me in there.” his voice was a taunt down the phone, you didn't let up you're search for him though.

“Santi, what are you doing here?” you tried to keep your voice calm, your eyes checking back on Vincenzo again, making sure he wasn't watching you and how frantic you were acting right now. You let out a deep breath, you hadn't realised you'd been holding, as you saw him still talking intently to his friends.

“You weren't answering my texts.” Santiago's voice came down the phone once more. You turned your back to Vincenzo, leaning against the end of the bar, trying to blend in. “I had to get your attention somehow.”

“Santi, where are you right now? I swear to god, if you ruin my cover.” you let the threat hang openly down the line. He was well aware of what you were capable of without having to threaten him with specifics. Then a thought crossed your mind. “Santi, how did you know where I was?” he didn't respond. “If you knew I was here...” you worked the thought through your head silently. “Santi? Why did you decide to call me right now?”

“Because I needed you to stand up so I could get a clear shot.” he finally said, his voice calm. You whipped your head back towards Vincenzo so fast, your phone dropping from your ear, resting at your side as you finally worked out where he was. He was watching from a window across the street. Shit.

It felt like everything was moving in slow motion as Vincenzo's body suddenly collapsed forward off the chair he'd been sitting in, hitting the glass table in front of him smashing it. You slowly brought the phone back up to your ear. “Get out now. Meet me in the alley around the back of the club.” were the only words he said to you before he hung up the phone. Girls began to shriek around you as they realised what was happening. Vincenzo's men quickly stood, pulling guns from their holsters, searching for whoever had shot their leader. You disappeared into the chaotic crowd now fleeing the scene, closely watching over your shoulder to see if you were being followed.

You broke off from the stream of people once you were downstairs on the ground floor, leaving out of a fire exit at the back of the building. You listened as the sounds of a motorcycle cut through; over the top of the screams of the crowd that was exiting out onto the street through the main doors of the club. 'He didn't' you thought to yourself, lifting your head towards the heavens, a silent plea. It fell on deaf ears.

Santiago made his way into the alley on the back of a motorbike, coming to an abrupt halt before you. “You have got to be kidding me.” you said as you began to pry your heels from your feet, stepping closer to the bike. He lifted the visor to the helmet up and the way the skin creased around his eyes, you could tell he had that smug grin on his face. Of course Will had told him. “You did this on purpose.”

“Just get on the bike.” he responded, revving the engine impatiently.

You climbed onto the back of the bike, your heels clutched tightly in one hand, the other wrapping tightly around Santiago's middle. “I swear to God Santiago, if you crash this bike when I'm not wearing a helmet-” he didn't give you a chance to continue before he took off, weaving his way through the dimly lit back streets until he reached a particular hotel on the outskirts of the city.

--------------------------------

You slammed your bag and heels down on the dresser as you entered the gloomy hotel room. You leant back against the top of the piece of furniture, your elbows nudging a small box tv on top of it as you silently stared at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with your companion in the room. The sound of his keys hitting the side table was deafening in the silence, forcing you to finally look at his face. This was the first time you'd seen him in person since you had slept together just over a year and a half ago.

“How did you know I was here Santi? You keeping tabs on me?” you spat at him.

“I have a guy.” he says it so nonchalantly like it's no big deal.

“What the heck Santi?” you continue your voice slowly rising in anger. “I've been stationed here for just over five months now trying to gain intel. Do you know how much time it took me to get him to trust me.”

“Well when you dress like that, I'm guessing not that long.” You push yourself up from the dresser turning away from him, a hand fisting into your hair in frustration. You closed your eyes taking a deep breath. “Look the guy had a price on his head.” He continued taking a tentative step in your direction. “Besides, now you're free to come to South America with me.” you turned towards him again, a look of complete and utter disbelief on your face.

“Do I just look like a fucking joke to you?” your voice cut at him. His eyes softened, hurt as he realised he'd said and done the wrong thing. “You fucking track me down in Italy, shoot my target, oh and turn up with that god damn bike.” You paced back and forth a moment before stopping abruptly in front of him. “When did Will tell you?”

“What that you practically got yourself off on the back of his bike?” Santiago joked, a large shit eating grin breaking out over his face. Your face remained stern, letting him know you didn't find any of this funny. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” he suddenly conceded, his eyes dropping to the carpet. His voice was quiet when he looked back up to meet your eyes. “I don't think you're a joke.”

“But you and Will did swap stories about your time spent with me?”

“So he was telling the truth.” Santiago said taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “You did get turned on by his bike.”

“You say it like you're jealous Santi?” you question him. “You think because I had a good night with you the last time we saw each other, I can't fuck anyone else?” he couldn't meet your eyes. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief at his silence. “Just you wait until I tell you about me and Fish.” you say coyly, turning your eyes away from him, just as his head snapped to your direction again.

“What about you and Fish?” he questioned, his eyes not leaving you now. A small smile licked at the corner of your mouth at the memory, but a slight ache in your chest suddenly tainted it.

“Let's just say, had we known, we would have put towels down.” you teased him. He shot up from the bed then, taking a step towards you, his eyebrows furrowed in shock and curiosity.

“Wait when did you and Fish?” He couldn't even finish the sentence. Frankie had been in a relationship for the last two years, even had a two month old baby girl to show for it. A part of Santiago didn't even want an answer to his question, but he was so intrigued by the other part of your statement, it completely clouded his better judgement. “Wait you're telling me you and Fish slept together and he made you?” he couldn't even say the word.

“You don't believe me?” you questioned him as you reached for your bag, your fingers closing apprehensively around your phone inside. You knew this was a bad idea but you were so mad at Santiago right now you were willing to do anything to put him in his place. “Call him and ask for yourself.” you continued unlocking your phone and thrusting it into his hand challenging him.

You watched him intensely, trying to hide your nervousness, as he searched your contacts for Frankie's name. Santiago's thumb hit the call button then put the call on speaker, the sound of the dial tone pulsing through the room. The longer it took for Frankie to answer the call, only encouraged your own anxiety that was painfully attacking your chest. You and Frankie hadn't spoken since you told him you were coming to Italy to get away from him; and the way you left things you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't pick up at all.

Frankie was more than surprised when he heard his phone begin to vibrate against the counter top, your name lighting up the screen for the first time in almost 8 months. He took a deep breath, his phone hanging in his frozen grasp before him as he questioned whether he should answer or just let it ring off. He surprised himself with his own judgement when he hit the answer button at the very last second, bringing the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?” Frankie's voice echoed out through the phone in Santiago's hand. If Frankie felt stunned by the fact you had called him in the first place, he was even more shocked when his best friend's voice answered down the phone.

“Dude did you make her squirt?” Santiago was blunt and straight to the point, his question making Frankie's eyes blow wide as the bombshell hit him. His heart felt like it was about to pound out of his chest as his panic set in.

He had sat quietly pretending not to take in Santiago and Will's conversation about you, that they were having the last time they had all been together. He'd held his tongue, wanting to keep his emotions for you in check. He wasn't proud of everything that had happened between the two of you and he hadn't wanted the hassle of his two best friend's opinions on the matter if he'd come clean about it all. Frankie suddenly found himself becoming angry, the feeling bubbling up in his chest ready to explode. Not only had you ended things between the two of you by running away to Italy, but you'd just dropped information about your time together to Santiago like it hadn't meant anything.

Frankie's silence and your pained expression had told Santiago everything he needed to know. He struggled to find the words to say but quickly found himself floundering even more when Frankie's voice spat sharply down the phone, “Did she also tell you she let me do coke off her ass?” Santiago's head shot up, his eyes boring into yours in shock. Shit!

You're eyes blew wide, your mouth hanging open unable to find the words to talk yourself out of this mess. You panicked blindly snatching the phone out of Santiago's grasp, hanging up the call. Fuck. FUCK! This had backfired on you so bad. You and Santiago stood silent across from each other as the bomb that had just been dropped settled around you both.

“How many times?” Santiago's voice tentatively broke the silence.

“How many times what?” you decided to deflect the conversation with other questions, “How many times did he make me squirt or... how many times did I let him do coke off me?” Santiago's hands flew into the air, his gaze moving to the ceiling as he took a step back, searching for the strength to carry on this conversation.

“The fact that you even have to ask that just proves how fucked up this is.” he responded as he watched you gingerly step towards the bed to sit down. You perched yourself on the edge of the mattress, unable to meet his eyes, you were more than aware of how fucked up the situation between you and Frankie was. There was silence again as Santiago tried to decide which question he wanted an answer to most. The fact you had, had to question if he was asking how many times you let Frankie do coke off your body already told him it had to have been a couple times. This also made him wonder how many times you and Frankie had slept together for him to have had the opportunity to do drugs off your body multiple times. “How many times did he make you squirt?” he finally asked.

Your head shot up, you had not expected that to be the prioritised question right now. When you met Santiago's eyes they were dark, full of lust. It sent a feeling rocketing to your core and you were thankful you had sat because the tingling sensation that shot through your ass told you your knees would definitely have given way if you were still standing. Your voice was timid, “We talking about just the first night or in total?” you asked wanting clarity so you could give him an honest answer. Santiago's hand groped at his own face as he tried to rub away the building tension and frustration he was feeling.

By saying that, you were only confirming what he already suspected to be true. You and Frankie had had a fucked up affair while he had been out of the country. He wanted to be so mad at both of you for behaving so recklessly and being so stupid, but the knowledge that Fish had gotten you to squirt, the fact that you could squirt, was turning Santiago on like crazy. He just wanted a chance to try and make you cum like that for himself.

His feet felt like they had bricks attached to them with the weight of every agonisingly slow step he took towards you. Neither of you broke eye contact once as you waited patiently for him to clarify the answer he wanted. He came to a stop before you, his gaze baring down over you. You felt so small, so vulnerable. Santiago looked so powerful right now, a far sight from the man you had beautiful sex with the last time you saw him. You knew how guilty you felt for everything that had happened between you and Frankie but the worst part of all was you weren't sorry for any of it. You knew it had been wrong but you had fallen in love with Frankie Morales hook line and sinker and you'd been more than willing to look past all of the fucked up things he was doing, just so you could be with him. You felt guilty because you regretted none of it and would do it all again in a heartbeat and for that you wanted to be punished; and with the way Santiago Garcia was looking at you right now, you were more than willing to let him be judge, jury and executioner.

“Did he make you squirt the first time he fucked you?” He asked, his hands moving to start undoing his belt as he maintained direct eye contact with you the whole time. The sound of the chinking metal sent a flutter straight to your core.

“Yes.” you whispered breathlessly, ready to roll over onto your back right then and there and be submissive.

“How many times?” your eyes dropped from his gaze to watch him slowly pull the belt from the loops, the sound sending shivers across your skin. You were afraid to tell him because you knew Santiago was never one to shy away from a competition, he was overly competitive and you knew once you told him the number, his aim for the evening would be to best that. You watched closely as he bunched up the belt in one hand, the other reaching out to place a finger under your chin, lifting your head to meet his gaze again. “How many times?” his voice asked again, intimidating, calm and patient.

“Three.” your voice came back, small and timid. He gave a slight nod and you pulled your lower lip between your teeth in anticipation for what he would do next, your eyes staring up at him helplessly. He dropped the tender hold he had under your chin and turned away from you, taking slow and calculated steps towards a chair in the corner of the room. He dragged it back across the room with him, placing it in front of you. He slowly sat, his elbows resting on his knees, fiddling with the belt in his hand.

He could see the pain behind your eyes, your guilt clear on your face. He also knew you wanted to punish yourself, wanted him to help you do it, but he needed you to say it out loud. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. The question was soft, but still domineering.

“Please, Santi.” was all you could manage, your eyes screaming help me. You didn't care how he did it, but you wanted him to use your own pleasure as a weapon against you. Santiago bit down hard on his bottom lip, his trousers becoming tight as he looked at you helpless and desperate, releasing all your control to him. It was a power trip he never knew he wanted or needed.

He took a moment to centre himself, sitting up, his hands resting on his thighs as he thought through the best way to do this. “Take off your dress.” he said. He had a magic way of making his voice sound commanding without being threatening, it was cold, calculated and made you want to follow any order he gave you.

You lifted the dress the rest of the way up your thighs, bouncing slightly on the bed to allow you the space you needed to lift it over your ass. You bunched the fabric in your fingers as you pulled it up over the top of your head as Santiago stood. You dropped the dress, letting it fall to the floor by your feet. You sat patiently in your underwear, staring up at him, waiting for your next instruction. He placed his belt down on the chair before taking off his jacket. You couldn't help but stare at the muscles flexing in his arms as he hung the jacket on the back of the chair. “Lay back on the bed.” he said, his eyes not meeting yours as he made his way towards the bathroom. You were less than surprised when he came back with a towel.

He stood at the end of the bed, looking down at you laying back on the pillows in the middle of the mattress. He threw the towel down onto the bed, “Last chance to back out.” he said, his eyes boring into you. You remained silent as you continued to meet his gaze, your eye's telling him you weren't going to back out. After a minute of waiting and giving you plenty of time to change your mind, he finally gave you a brief nod, directing your gaze to the towel, silently instructing you to lay it out on the bed while he took a moment to take his shoes off.

You spread the towel out over the top of the covers, before taking your place inbetween the pillows again at the head of the bed. You watched him kick off his shoes before he crawled onto the bed, reaching his arm out for the belt that still sat on the chair, before making his way up the mattress towards you.

He tucked the belt into the palm of his hand as his fingers reached out for your ankles, spreading your legs out wide so he could kneel between them. He was leaning over you so close that if he leant down, only slightly, his lips would meet your own. He didn't lean down though. Instead he took hold of your wrists before leaning back on his heels. He silently began to wrap the belt around your wrists, not too tight, but tight enough that you wouldn't be able to break free from them without having to ask. He continued to stay silent, refusing to meet your eyes as he gently raised your hands above your head. You watched the look of concentration on his face, as he fixed the belt holding your hands, to the bedframe. The only sound in the room came from your slowly unsteadying breaths as the suspense and arousal built within you.

He ran a gentle finger lightly down your arm, the sensation making your skin tingle and you sucked your bottom lip inside your mouth to stop yourself from letting out a small gasp. Santiago wanted to let out a small chuckle from how powerful he felt from the sight, knowing you were becoming aroused already and he'd barely done anything. He forced his expression to remain icy and calculated, controlling, knowing the less he gave away, the more you're mind would race, making you squirm beneath him.

His hands reached for your legs, running his fingers slowly up the length of them, starting at your ankles and coming to a stop at your thighs, his hand giving them a light slap before his fingertips dug into the flesh. This time you really did let out a small moan as the sensation sent shockwaves straight to your core. Santiago really did allow himself a low controlled chuckle then. He watched intensely as your pupils dilated from the slight pleasure his touch had given you but then they contracted again, the shame of your aroused gasp making you bashful. He hadn't realised his pants could feel any tighter but they felt like they were suffocating him right now.

For the last year and a half, whenever he tried to have sex or jerk himself off, his mind had always wandered back to that last night he'd spent with you. He'd been itching to relive it for so long, but here now, seeing you like this, he already knew he had a new favourite memory of you; even if the circumstances that led you both here, hadn't been the most desirable.

He had leant forward again, his thumbs brushing against your inner thigh, as close to your panties as possible but not quite close enough to touch. It was torturous, much like how close his lips were to yours right now, but he made no move to actually kiss you. He knew how your brain worked, how easily it could run away with itself. All he had to do was leave hints for your body and your brain would fill in the rest, making your arousal only that much stronger because they were your own wants and needs, your true desires that were turning you on and that was much stronger than anything Santiago could do to you.

The sexual tension around the two of you buzzed in the air like electricity, sending tingles all through your body without either of you having to move. As you continued to stare into his lust filled eyes you slowly began to realise what he was doing. You'd always realised the physical power Santiago had over you and when you had left your plea open, unspecific, you had just assumed it would be that physical power that he would use on you to just take you, pound into you with no mercy, ripping your orgasms from you by force; but now you were realising just how much he understood your minds inner workings. This wasn't going to be a physical manipulation but a mental one, he was going to use your own overactive imagination against you and that really showed how much power he truly had over you and that would be what turned you on the most.

Your hips began to twist slightly, desperate for any friction you could get between your legs, your head leaning forward, desperate to feel his mouth against yours, his lips sucking and bruising your own; but he moved his head back just out of your reach, your hands pulling tight against their restraints as you tried to chase him. “Uh, uh, uh, I don't think so queirda.” he taunted you. You watched closely as he slowly ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, messing with your mind even more, making you even more desperate to taste them again. You bit your lip and wiggled your hips again, then flinched as Santi's hands slapped at your thighs once more, forcing you to stop. “You keep doing that, I'm gonna sit my ass in that chair and do nothing at all.” your eyes followed the tip of his finger as he took one of his hands off of your legs, to point at the chair still sitting at to the side of the bed. “Do you understand?” he asked, forcing your gaze back to his dark eyes. You timidly nodded and his eyes softened as he once more relished in the power you were giving him.

He slowly began to lean forward and for a moment you thought he was finally going to kiss you. You closed your eyes in anticipation but the sensation never came. You felt his breath against your skin as he let out a breathy chuckle; you were so desperate. He had to fight the shit eating grin that was threatening to spread across his face when your eyes opened to find out what had happened, realising he'd stopped, his lips millimetres from yours. He instead manoeuvred his head lower to brush his lips against your neck, small feather like kisses that tickled; barely there touches that messed with your brain. You felt your panties grow wetter, less so from his actual touch but the mental and emotional power behind his every move.

You remained still and patient and he rewarded you by applying further pressure with his lips, gently nibbling at the skin before licking the spot tenderly with the tip of his tongue and finally sealing each mark with a kiss. You sighed, your eyes closing and head rolling back as the fluttering sensation between your legs only grew. When he reached your clavicle he stopped, pulling his head back. You licked your lips, sucking them into your mouth and biting on them slightly to stop yourself from whining, knowing he'd only hold out on you more if you did.

You watched him in silence as he just sat back slightly, staring at your breasts. The longer he waited to do something, the more desperate your mind would race to fill in and work out what he was thinking about doing with them. Your eyes painfully followed the movement of his hands as they reached out to gently lift your boobs up and out of their constraints, the underwire from your bra digging into your ribs slightly with the new position your breasts were sitting in. He then sat back again to admire them, the cool air of the room prickling against your nipples making them stand erect.

Santiago hesitated a moment, his controlled resolve almost breaking at the sight. You watched him take a deep breath, fighting to ignore the growing pain between his legs as his erection pushed painfully against its confines. He suddenly caught you off guard as his hands reached forward towards you, one hand gently caressing your side, the other reaching to get a handful of one of your breasts, guiding it towards his mouth. It had been the fastest you'd seen him move all evening as he wrapped his tongue around your nipple before gently biting down on it, rolling it between his front teeth. You let out a gasp of pleasure, your head falling backwards, eyes closing, your body bucking forward at his touch, arms pulling at their restraints.

“Oh fuck.” the words fell from your mouth before you had a chance to catch yourself, your hips grinding your clit into the mattress. You froze a moment as you waited for him to stop, to pull away and go and sit in the chair away from you to punish you for not controlling yourself better, but he didn't.

Santiago felt your body go rigid beneath his touch and a devious smirk played at the corner of his lips as he realised just how much the weight of his previous threat had taken hold in your mind. He knew you were waiting for him to pull away, your own mind already torturing you; he instead decided he was going to push you over the edge. He began to slow down his movements, the tip of his tongue running slowly across your sensitive nipple that he still held gently between his teeth. His eyes kept a close watch on your face as you screwed up your eyes, your lips pursed together in a tight line, trying not to react so recklessly to his agonising touch again.

He pulled his mouth away from your nipple with a pop and he placed a gentle kiss over it before he moved his attention across to the other one. His moves became sporadic again as his other hand, removed itself from where it had been resting at your side, coming up to take your other breast between his fingers as he pushed it further up your chest, his fingertips forcefully digging in before he took that one too into his mouth with a squeeze. He felt your body buck at the stimulation, eager to get away from it before he tipped you over the edge too soon.

His hand relaxed and he slowly let go of your boobs, his fingers stroking across your skin until his hands were touching your thighs once more. He applied extra pressure to his hold, pushing them against the mattress, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. You became quickly intimidated by the coy and devilish smile that licked at the corners of Santiago's mouth. You knew that look all too well, his brain had given him an idea and you were not going to like it.

He gently nudged his knee forward inbetween your legs and it applied pressure to your needy clit. You practically flinched, trying to get away as the jolt of sensitivity shot through you. He let a low controlled laugh pass his lips. “Oh I don't think so princess.” he said grabbing hold of your hips, lifting them up, his knee coming to rest underneath you, your legs now straddling his thigh. It took all your strength to not immediately start grinding yourself against it, not until he gave you permission. “This is what you wanted isn't it?” his voice was low in your ear, taunting. “Well go on then.” he said with a slight nod of his head but you were hesitant to move, scared it was some kind of trap.

You felt his hold on your hips change as he began to encourage them to move and they of course betrayed you, following his rolling motion. You let out a small whine as your clothed clit, dragged across his thigh. You scrunched your face up, burying it against his shoulder. You had become so sensitive down there that the slightest movement was both full of pain and relief. Santiago listened attentively as your breaths became shallower, the strained noises you tried to suppress to not let on how much you were enjoying this, becoming more frequent. He released his hold on your hips, his fingers hovering just above them, testing to see if you'd carrying on grinding yourself against him without his encouragement. You did.

Santiago allowed you a moment to continue working yourself against his leg. He pulled his head away from you, forcing you both to look at each other. “Look at you, so fucking desperate.” he said, his voice low, eyes hungry. “Getting yourself off on my thigh like that.” you let out an audible moan then, unable to contain it, his taunting voice tipping you over the edge. “You getting close baby?” he asked and you silently nodded your head. “You want to cum all over my thigh?” You nodded your head desperately and he raised his eyebrows in response, encouraging you to use your words, to beg for him to let you cum.

“Please Santi, please.” you breathlessly whined. “I'm so fucking close and I need to cum so bad.” He remained still a moment, feeling your hips begin to buck ever faster on his leg, your eyes desperately searching his, aching for your release.

“No.” his voice was blunt as he moved his thigh out from underneath you, your hips bucking into the air, thighs squeezing desperately together, needing that friction back, you're eyes became teary as a guttural, frustrated cry fell from your lips. Your arms pulled tightly against their restraints, pulling your body back into the bed and even further away from him. The look on your face was one of betrayal as he got up from the bed and turned his back to you.

You panted heavily, your eyes fixed on his every move, as he gave you time to cool off while he grabbed himself a bottle of water from the mini fridge. He made a show of turning back to you as he opened up the bottle, bringing the cold clear liquid to his lips. Santiago knew what he was doing. He'd given you a moment to calm down but he'd just denied you your release when he knew you were so close and he knew how hot and sensitive you still were down there, your legs trying to subtly rub against each other to alleviate the pressure.

He leant back onto the bed, open bottle still in hand. He reached out for your ankle, pulling your legs apart with his free hand. His eyes locked onto yours, panicked and swimming in desperation. He held the bottle out in front of you, hovering over your most sensitive area. His eyebrows raised, taunting you. It took every inch of strength in your body to remain silent and not cave, to beg him not to. His hand began to tilt and he watched as your eyes flicked helplessly towards the bottle.

Your hips flinched as the icy water came into contact with your most intimate parts. He had only poured a little bit onto the area, directly over where he knew your clit was, but it was enough for your legs to kick out wildly. His grasp, still around your ankle, became firmer as he pushed it into the bed to hold you still as your breath came out as a hiss between your teeth. He held you there a moment longer, just to reinforce his power, before he stood up again, letting out a low chuckle as he crossed the room, taking another sip of water, before leaving it on top of the dresser. He paused there a moment, arms crossed, leaning back against the wood. Your eyes were locked on his in anticipation.

His movements were slow as he crept forward towards the bed, his hands sliding up the fabric underneath your legs until his fingers could hook around the elastic of your underwear, dragging them slowly down over your thighs, tickling your skin sending shivers through you. Your breathing hitched and you fought to remain quiet. “You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked as his lips began to kiss and nibble up the inside of your left leg, his right hand tracing circles around the inside of your right thigh. He looked up at you expectantly and you gave him a small nod. “Use your words princess.”

Just as your lips began to open, Santiago plunged his head between your legs, sucking your clit into his mouth hard. “Yes!” you cried out, more forcefully than you had originally been intending to. Santiago let out a low chuckle, as the power trip he was feeling took over his body. The vibrations of his lips against your clit made you squirm, pushing yourself further towards his mouth. He happily obliged your needs, lapping at your wet folds with his tongue, sucking your little sensitive bud into his mouth, every time he reached it. The sensation of his tongue and your over sensitivity made you whine, breathing heavily as you pulled against your restraints.

“God I've missed this.” Santiago pulled himself away from your folds for just a moment to allow the confession to slip freely from his mouth, before diving his tongue deeper into them once more. You let your eyes close, head rolling back, your body relaxing into his touch as you let out a long moan of satisfaction.

Your body jerked forward again suddenly, your head whipping forward to look at him as he suddenly plunged two of his fingers deep inside you. He began to curl them forwards, thrusting them quickly inside you. Your eyes blew wide as a familiar sensation began to build up between your legs, a feeling you'd only ever felt when being fucked by Frankie.

Santiago suddenly felt your body stiffen, as you realised how close you were to squirting for him. He felt how your vaginal walls started constricting, instead of relaxing into the feeling, you were trying to pull away from it. He looked up at the panic in your eyes as the thought that had suddenly raced into your mind took root. 'Frankie was the only one you wanted to let. make you cum like that.'

Santiago quickly took his fingers out of you, slapping his hands against your thighs in frustration, the guttural cry of you being denied another orgasm, ripping through the hotel room along with it. When he looked at you there were tears at the corners of your eyes. You were so desperate to cum but he could also see the deep feelings you had for his best friend clear on your face. No matter how much he wanted to see you squirt for him, he wasn't going to force you to if you didn't want to; but it didn't mean he couldn't feel a little bitter about it and if you didn't want to cum the way he wanted you too, then fine, he wasn't going to let you cum at all, not until you were begging him.

“Fuck.” you sneered under his piercing gaze. Your clit felt like it was on fire, you should have just let him make you squirt, but your body had made the decision for you before your brain could even comprehend why it had done it. You could tell by the look in his eyes though that he knew full well why.

He finally broke the brief silence, his voice coming out cold. “Fine. You want to go back to playing the edging game, we can go back to playing the edging game.” he said shrugging his shoulders slightly, his head tilting to gauge your reaction. You recognised the dark look in his eyes. It was the same look he got on a mission, ready to go in for the kill, determined to finish the job. You knew the moment you dropped your little piece of information it would send him into a competitive spiral. He had given you a final chance to back out before you started but you hadn't, you had given him full control and now he was reminding you of that.

“Santi, no please.” you begged, you needed your release so bad.

“You should have thought about that before you decided to hold out on me.” he said as he moved his thumb over your swollen clit, applying pressure, making you squirm and moan under his touch. “I thought you said you were going to be a good girl for me?” you didn't realise his voice could drop any lower, but it did and he felt your lower half tense as it reacted to the words. He slowly lowered his thumb, dragging it through your arousal that was dripping out of you. He brought it up to your lips and you submissively opened, sucking his thumb into your mouth, tasting yourself.

Santiago's pupils grew wider, the problem in his pants becoming noticeable again as he felt your tongue flex around his thumb. Fuck, he needed his own release just as much as you wanted yours. He slipped his thumb from your mouth, wrapping his fingers around your jaw. “You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked again. His voice was soft, encouraging you to say yes so he could finally plunge his cock into you, just like he'd thought about doing almost everyday for the last year and a half.

As soon as you nodded, he wasted no time, his hands racing to take off his clothes before latching his lips onto your mouth. If your kiss had been a drug, then he had definitely just relapsed. You shuffled yourself underneath him, making it easier for him to line himself up with your entrance.

He gave you no warning before thrusting forward, sheathing himself inside you quickly with one swift movement. Your hips bucked up into him, trying to take him as deep as you possibly could, your mouth hanging open mid kiss. He allowed you a single second to adjust before his hips started rolling into you, his cock rubbing devastating against your sweet spot with every thrust.

He moved his hand, placing his fingers around your throat, holding you firmly as he relentlessly thrusted up into your wet cunt. “Santi, please.” you breathlessly whispered into his lips, your eyes motioning up to your arms. He took his hand off your throat, reaching a hand up to release the belt from the headboard but didn't untie your wrists. You lowered your still bound arms, over his head and he wrapped his arms around you, bringing your body up closer to his, your hips lifting from the bed.

The new position provided him with the perfect angle at which to rub against that special spot inside you and you soon found that familiar feeling from before building inside you. He could feel it, your walls pushing back against him and he let his head fall, burying it into the crook of your neck, waiting for you to tense again and try and shy away from it like you had before but you didn't. He quickly lifted his head then, looking down between the two of you, as he felt your pussy push his cock out of you on his backward thrust, your release spilling all over the bed as you cried out in pleasure. Santiago swore it was the best thing he'd ever seen. He looked back up into your cock dumb eyes, his lips latching onto yours, thanking you for the gift you were giving him. “There it is. That's my girl.” he praised before thrusting back inside you.

-----------------------------------

“I need you on this job.” he said softly, his fingers tracing over your back as you lay, still naked, in his arms a few hours later. You shifted to look up at him.

“I can't Santi.” you replied, shaking your head slightly. He could see the pain behind your decision clear in your eyes. You knew what he was asking of you without him even saying it and you knew you couldn't do it. You were too emotionally attached to the other guys and you weren't ready to face Frankie again, the phone call earlier only reinforcing that more. You would be a weak link and you didn't want to put Santiago's hard work at risk.

“Okay.” he conceded gently, pulling you back into his chest and placing a kiss on top of your head.

“Who else did you ask already?” your voice asked quietly.

“No one yet.” he confessed and you looked back up at him confused, realising he had made you his first point of call, his priority team member. “This job means everything to me. It's everything I've been working towards over the last few years. When the information I needed to make this a reality came up, you were the first person that entered my head.”

“Why me?” your question came out as more of a whisper.

“Because I've never met anyone, who is as good at our job as you are.” For some reason his words hurt, because he was right. You were the best out of all of you for what he wanted to do. He came all the way to Italy to prove how much he needed your help, but you couldn't give it to him. You wanted to go against your better judgement and just tell him you'd do the job anyway, but you couldn't. Instead you buried your head back into his chest, your embrace around him growing tighter as you tried to reassure him, let him know how sorry you truly were.

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[hillnerd]

Waking up- Chapter 6 - Touch

AO3     FFN       Beginning of story | Previous Chapter   word count 9064

Here is the second part of chapter 5- I split them because it was going LONG. So it's still Hermione's POV. Previously in ‘Waking Up’:

Hermione gets ready for going out to a club & is anxious

She got ready w/ Fleur, Ginny, Angelina - Bonds w/ Fleur

Ron's not up for club either, but he does not reveal why

The entire group consists of the Weasley siblings (minus Percy), Lee, Angelina, Hermione, harry

It's a jolly good time despite  ptsd acting up for Hermione- Until it's NOT a good time, and George grabs a mic and is threatening people with his wand.

Chapter warnings: cursing, intense emotions, drunkenness', fighting, reference to a dead character, somewhat explicit sex scene

CHAPTER 6- TOUCH

Panic seared through every nerve in her body. Ron was willfully standing in front of a sparking wand, and no one could do a thing to stop it - not legally anyway. 

Ron stared the wand down, saying something she couldn’t hear from across the crowded bar, and the mic couldn’t pick up. She clawed her way out from the corner booth, waking Harry in the process, but by the time she’d crawled out from behind the table George’s wand arm had slowly fallen to his side. 

“Fine... Fucking fine…” George’s voice echoed across the bar. “You’re all a bunch of useless arseholes.” 

With that, George handed over the mic, escorted away with a bunch of people applauding as the music resumed. Ron, Angelina and Lee followed as the bouncer manhandled George then bodily dropped him off in a chair next to Ginny. 

“When the tab is paid, get his arse out of here,” the bouncer growled at Ron before pointing a meaty finger at George. “He’s fucking banned.”

George handed over a wad of cash to Lee, who went to pay the tab.

All eyes turned to George.

“What?” He had a grin on his face, but his tone was sharp and eyes dead. “Did I say something that wasn’t true?”

“You said a lot, alright,” Angelina muttered. “You’re lucky Ron convinced them not to call Muggle law enforcement on you.”

George shot Ron a vicious scowl, but didn’t say anything. Ron had a carefully blank look on his face.

Lee returned from the bar, the bouncer behind him.

“Time we get going.”

They began their journey back to the hotel, pairing off, with the more sober partners keeping the more inebriated of their group from walking into traffic. Harry was ridiculously unsteady on his feet. Ginny couldn’t keep him upright and he nearly tripped over a passerby. Ron took over for Ginny, and Harry was very maudlin in his drunkenness.

“You’re my best friend,” he pronounced to Ron. “In the whole world, you know that?”

“Yep, thanks Harry.”

“You’re special. I know you sometimes don’t think you are, but you are. That locket didn’t know a thing.”

Hermione nearly tripped over, hearing the locket mentioned. She wasn’t sure what Harry meant, though. How could the locket have known anything? It was just an evil locket that drained people’s happiness and made them angry. It hadn’t shown any signs of sentience. Neither had the cup.

“Shut up, Harry” warned Ron, giving Harry a jostle. 

“And sorry I love your sister. I couldn’t help it!” 

She supposed the mention of the locket was just as nonsensical as everything else Harry was saying. She pulled Ron’s jacket that went nearly to her knees closer around herself, trying to ignore the ringing in her ears.

Ginny gave a laugh at Harry’s antics. She had drunk significantly more than Hermione, but somehow she wasn’t unsteady on her feet at all. Despite her amusement over Harry, Ginny’s eyes kept darting to George. 

“Maybe we could dart into that corner shop, they’ll have booze,” George said, making a beeline that was curtailed by Ron leaving Harry at a lamppost and standing in his way.

“Let’s just get back to your hotel.”

“Fuck off, Ron! No one asked you!”

George had enough to drink to make him mean, and enough to nearly trip into the gutter. Ron caught him before he fell.

George bodily shrugged him off.

Hermione kept attempting to catch eyes with Ron, but he was too busy determinedly watching George and keeping Harry from walking into drainpipes. 

They finally reached George’s hotel. He keyed them into his room then immediately sat on the bed, arms crossed as he glared out the window. 

Ron deposited the unsteady Harry at the table, and Hermione happily took the other seat, her headache now piercing.

“I want to get out of here,” said Ginny as she leaned against a wall.

“Anyone sober enough to Apparate?” asked Angelina.

“I’m sober. I can side-along each of you where you need to go” said Ron, though he looked a bit peaky. “Then I can come back to stay with George.”

“I can stay here a bit longer to hang with George,” Lee said, a genial smile on his face that ignored the series of blanches after his comment. Not even the most drunk of them was under the impression he was staying just to hang out instead of monitor. 

“I can stay too,” volunteered Angelina.

Ron shook his head. “You don’t have to. I know you both have work tomorrow.”

“That’s kind of you, Ron,” Angelina answered for them.

“Oh yeah, Ronnie the fucking hero” George groused, a mean look on his face. 

“Damn, George,” said Lee with a shake of his head. 

“I don’t need tending, and I don’t need you lot talking about me like I’m not here! I’m fine!”

“Look,” Ron began. “We both know—”

“Just what is it we both know?” asked George, rising from his bed.

“That you’re being an arsehole,” Ginny supplied, and no one corrected her.

“Well sorry I’m not all fun and fucking rainbows, everyone!” spat George, throwing his hands in the air.

“No one’s asking for that!” Ron protested. “We just don’t want you pissed and getting in trouble.” “Oh give it a fucking rest,” George snapped, poking Ron in the chest.  Tents and rain and friends fighting filled Hermione’s mind. Her wand. She needed her wand! Hermione rifled through her beaded bag trying to find it.

 “I’m tired of having you in my face all the time! I’ve never wanted you around before, so why the fuck would you think I want you around now? It’s like you enjoy being an annoying arsehole.”

“Oh yeah. I’m here for the enjoyment of it,” Ron said with a snort. “I get to keep my drunk older brother from getting arrested, keep him from eating shit in the gutter, and get treated like shit for it. A perfect evening, really.”

“I never asked for your help! I don’t want it!”  

“Well someone has to pick up the pieces when you keep fucking up.” 

“For fuck’s sake, get out of my room!” George bellowed, looking perilously close to punching Ron. 

“No! I’m not letting you fuck up again!” Ron yelled back, red in the face. “After everything, it doesn’t matter if you’re an arse, family’s—”

Hermione’s hands shook as she scraped through the contents of her bag, unable to find her wand in the cavernous space. Useless. She was useless.

“Fuck off!” George seethed, looking like a cornered animal.

“No! After everything, family’s all we have and we have to be there for one another!” 

“Like you were for Fred when he got fucking crushed to death?” George jeered. An explosion of protestations burst forth, but he ignored them all, eyes glinting in a mix of anger and anguish. He let out a horrible rough sound that bordered between laughter and crying. 

Hermione desperately scrabbled in her bag, fingers grazing everything but her damned wand! 

“Why couldn’t that wall have fallen a few feet to the left and taken you out instead of Fred?”

There was a crash and Harry’s chair was on the floor he had stood up so abruptly.

“Don’t you talk to him like that!’ Harry cried out, moving toward George, his wand pulled. Angelina and Lee quickly got in his way, as Ron stood still, and his expression shuddered. 

Something like regret flickered across George’s face. He took a step towards his brother, but gave a yell as an orange curse hit him and he stumbled back into the bathroom. 

All faces turned to the source of the spell. There stood Ginny, cold fury burning in her eyes. She gave another wave of her wand that slammed the door shut.

“Ginny, you can’t do magic outside of school yet!” Hermione squealed, fingers finally grasping her wand, though far too late to be of any help. 

“Worth it,” replied Ginny.  Hermione couldn’t very well disagree. She’d never thought she could dislike George Weasley so much. “Let’s get out of here. I can’t stand to look at him.”

Ron gave a sigh, and leaned his head against the bathroom door frame. “I guess I need to get you all home, then I’ll come back and— ”

“No, I’ll stay here.” Angelina put a staying hand up. “He’s been a right bastard to you and you don’t have to put up with it.”

“But—”

“We’ve got him,” said Lee, putting a hand on Ron’s shoulder. Ron opened his mouth as if to argue, then gave a sigh.

“And you’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything?”

They nodded.

“Then… Then I’ll get everyone home.”

One by one Ron apparated Harry, Ginny and Hermione home - he was too tired to apparate multiple people at a time reliably. They silently walked from their apparition point to the Burrow’s living room.

Ron busied himself pouring glasses of water for them, while the rest of them watched. Harry looked baleful, but was unable to say anything and Ginny was silently crying. This left Hermione, and she felt woefully underqualified to even begin to breach the hurt Ron had faced. The one solace was that Harry and Ginny seemed equally unable to come up with comforting words to say to Ron.

Ron saved Harry and Ginny the trouble by dismissing them to bed.  Harry tottled over to Ron and gave him a long-lasting hug mumbling something about him being Harry’s brother. Ginny gave him a hug about the middle as well, before helping the still wobbly Harry up the stairs to bed.

Ron let out a sigh and collapsed on the couch.

“Next time I’m tempted to go out, remind me of tonight,” he muttered, throwing an arm across his face. “Especially if there’s George and drinking involved…”

His breathing shook the tiniest bit. 

She’d never been very good at emotions. Her own would take over and she’d let her temper turn her into a veritable harpy. Other people’s emotions were just as difficult for her to handle. She worked so hard to learn to say the right thing, find what could soothe others, to apply logic and repeat the process. It never seemed to work, though. She couldn’t think of anyone she’d successfully talked down or comforted in her life. Not really… 

She settled beside him and put her head on his chest.

“I know you’re upset…” she began. Acknowledging feelings was usually a good place to begin. That’s the sort of thing Ron might say, right? “But you have to know George didn’t mean any of that.”

He ruefully shook his head. “He did… It’s fine, though. Nothing I didn’t know.”

“He was just trying to get rid of you by being cruel. He was drunk and being spiteful,” she said with certainty. 

“Doesn’t mean he was lying.” 

“You handled this all really well, you know.”

“Huh?” he asked, removing his arm from over his eyes.

“You deescalated things really well, watched after us, and kept your calm… It was rather impressive.”

“Yeah, well I’ve had my fair share of dealing with dramatic wizards and witches,” he said with a hint of a smile, giving her a bit of a nudge. 

“Oh we’ve never been that bad!” she said with a laugh. 

He cocked his head at her. “The birds.”

“Well… Well, you were being a right arse,” she said, poking him in the middle.

“See? I’m quite used to the drama,” he said with a chuckle, draping his arm around her.

She bit her lip. “I wasn’t that bad was I?”

“You were pretty terrible,” he said with a laugh. “But that’s alright. I like how fierce and crazy you are.”

“Crazy?!” 

“Oh sorry, I mean how calm and undramatic you are.” He schooled his face into mock solemnity.

“You’re terrible,” she huffed.

“Yeah, but you love it,” he said, shooting her that boyish grin of his. It was her favorite feature of his. Well, that and his blue eyes. And his bright hair. And his freckles. And his wide shoulders. And his long legs. And his big hands. And his arse.

With that thought, she sat up and put a hand to his face and his eyebrows shot up into his fringe. 

“I can’t help it, but I really do,” she said, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the nose. “You know… Harry pointed out that you fancy me.”

“He’s a terrible drunk.”

“I told him I quite fancy you as well.”

“I would hope so, seeing as you’re my girlfriend.” His arm hugged her close to his side. “And even if he’s a terrible drunk, he��s right. I do fancy you. Rather hard not to, what with you being all brilliant and beautiful.”

Her eyes fell to his lips. This wasn’t the ideal place to kiss, in his family’s living room where anyone could walk in on them… but he’d called her beautiful and he was being so perfect. She didn’t want him to think about George again either. 

She maneuvered herself until she was on top of him, knees on either side of his hips. One of his hands wove through her curls, the other doing a little trail down her side, a gesture that was growing more and more familiar each time they snogged. A hot neediness fed her movements. She moaned and leaned into him when she was stopped. His hands cupped her cheeks and slowly moved her face away from his.

“We’re in the living room,” he murmured. 

“It’s late - so late that no one will know. Just snog me!” she whispered.

“Are you still sauced?” he laughed.

“Do I have to be ‘sauced’ to want to kiss you with a tiny bit of tongue?” 

“Well I’d hope not, but any sober person should know this house always has someone up and in our business…”

“I’m sober now,” she told him frankly, feeling the slightest tinges of a hangover, but otherwise feeling very much herself. She gave a sigh and extricated herself from him. “You have a point about the lack of privacy, but I’ll have you know it’s highly unfair to call me beautiful and not allow me to snog you a bit.”

“Oh is that all it takes?” He had a pleased grin on his face. 

“Well it’s definitely not your stellar personality,” she said with a teasing smile of her own. 

“Of course not. It’s my gentlemanly ways.”

He bowed very low and she gave a much-too-loud laugh as he took her hand. He leaned down, blue eyes gleaming into hers, then gave her knuckle a lick. 

“You’re disgusting!”

“You wanted a tiny bit of tongue, so I gave you tongue!” he grinned, before dimming the lights and leading her up the stairs.

They stopped in front of Ginny’s bedroom and touched foreheads.

“I know tonight was… was difficult,” she said in a low voice, “but when it wasn’t… I really did have a good time with you.”

He shifted his head and kissed her forehead. 

“I did too,” he murmured, giving her a soft smile. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered, putting her hand on the handle to turn it when it slipped in her grasp. She tried again, but it wouldn’t budge. “She must have forgotten and locked it...”

She gave a light knock on the door, and Ginny didn’t answer. There was nothing but silence.

 “Oh you’ve got to be kidding…” 

“What?” Hermione asked, trying the door again.

Ron did a few spells and gave a huff.

“Harry’s in there,” he said, disgusted.

“What? No… They wouldn’t… Would they?”

“I’d bet fifty galleons Harry’s in that bloody room.”

“Oh…” she replied, putting her fingers to her pursed lips. “I suppose I’ll stay in Percy’s room then?”

“Nah, you can come to bed with me.” 

He walked towards the stairs before coming to a stop. 

“Okay…” he said, turning on his heels, a panicked look on his face. “I didn’t mean to assume— You definitely don’t need to—”

“Yes!” she whispered back.

Ron looked only mildly less panicked at her answer.

“Yes like you’re agreeing you don’t need to come with, or yes like—”

“Yes, like I’ll stay with you.”   

A thrill ran through her as they smiled at one another, the bit of moonlight shining through the window illuminating them. As they went up the stairs together excitement flooded her thoughts of sharing a room overnight with Ron. She’d shared the tent with him, but they’d never truly been alone all night, and they definitely hadn’t been under the scrutiny of Mr and Mrs Weasley. 

She’d never been one for rule breaking. Well, that wasn’t quite true. Okay, she had to admit she broke rules rather regularly. She might have broken about a thousand rules in the last year alone, but that was different— it was for a just cause that would help everyone. In this case it was purely breaking rules for her own happiness. The rush of it made her feel the same peace she’d had at the club. 

The moment they got to Ron’s room and saw Harry’s empty camp bed she approached Ron to kiss him. Only a meter away, he let out a large yawn before going to his drawers.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her an oversized orange shirt. It had the Cannons logo on it and was soft to the touch from so many wearings. She’d seen him wear it probably a thousand times. It was rather sweet that he’d thought of pajamas for her, but disappointment began to well in her. She wasn’t sure what she’d hoped for, but something closer to their activities at the shed was what she’d imagined. “Do you need some shorts or something for the bottoms?”

“No, I think your shirt will do,” she said as she held it up and realized it went halfway down her legs.

“Right,” he said with a grin, “Well, I can step out while you change.”

“You can stay here,” she said. She felt a fluttering in her stomach as his eyes shot back to hers.

“Oh, erm… Alright,” he said, his pink tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Right! Yeah…”

He turned about, head pointed up towards the low ceiling. 

She let out a nervous giggle and changed out of her dress into the dress-length shirt. She did a silencing charm on the room, for good measure.

“You can turn around now.”

He turned around and looked at her with a soft smile.

“Nice to see you supporting the Cannons!” His eyes fasted on the logo with a growing grin before his eyes went wide and met hers. She looked down and realized it was very apparent she wasn’t wearing a bra in the thin shirt. He went back to his drawers and found a pair of pajama trousers for himself.

“Do you need me to turn around for you to change?” she asked. 

“Up to you, really,” he said with a shrug, beginning to unbutton his shirt. She chose to watch him from the bed, enjoying how a tinge of red blossomed across his cheeks and ears. As he finally got to his belt and jeans he turned himself around.

She liked watching him like this. She’d never had the chance to unabashedly watch him before. They’d changed clothes on the run, but it had always been practical fast movements. She liked looking at his shoulders that were rather wide despite his thinness, and the glorious spattering of freckles that were most concentrated across his shoulders. He pulled the pajama trousers up over his plaid boxers then did a cute little hop to arrange himself. She liked the taper of his waist, and wanted to see if it was as enticing from the front. Watching him made her forget to breathe; forget to do much of anything.

She wasn’t sure when she’d stood from the bed, but her feet made a beeline to him. As soon as he turned she surged forth, that same neediness from the sofa fueling her movements. She jumped straight up into his arms making him let out a deep ‘oompf!’ She worried for a moment that she might have hurt him, jumping on him as she did, but reassurance came as he sighed into their kiss. They moved against each other in the middle of the room, the lamp casting shadows across the orange room creating the effect it was on fire.

It was a bit of a messy snog, but she didn’t care as he pulled her into a hard embrace. His tongue traced the inside of her mouth, and she slid both of her hands into his hair, enjoying the feel of his soft strands running through her fingers. They continued to kiss as their feet stumbled back until Ron’s legs hit the bed and the two fell to it with a laugh. The spell she’d done on the bed to widen the bed earlier that day had held up, giving them plenty of room to twine around one another and kiss. She reminded herself to reinforce the hastily done spell later, otherwise they might end up with one of them on the floor— but she decided it was better to put it off and not interrupt a perfect series of kisses.

Since she was about thirteen she’d wondered what kissing Ron Weasley would be like. Her earliest fantasies were delicate and chaste like she’d seen in movies. Later they became more heated and sensuous, but she’d had so little experience with kissing she wasn’t sure what she preferred their kisses to be, really, as long as it was with Ron. 

Their first kiss had seared through her as he lifted her up off the ground. The second time he’d been tender and unhurried. She’d stopped counting their kisses, but each time it was perfect, whatever surprise he brought her way.

Now that they were on the bed his lips were soft. He’d started slow, lazily exploring her as if savoring each moment, his kiss a gentle caress that reeled her in, peppering in a tiny nibble here or there. 

“Wait,” he murmured sitting up. “You’re sure you’re sober?”

“Yes,” she answered. Her fingers grazed down him, savoring the lean muscles, how very smooth his skin was until the lines she drew reached an errant scar he’d earned over the years. One of his hands began to trail up her hip, just managing to skim underneath the overly large shirt. The pad of his thumb was drawing slow circles that just tickled the bottom of her ribs.

Soft, hungry kisses were travelling down her neck. She moaned as he met the juncture between her shoulder and neck. Through half closed eyes she watched the lamplight make his hair spark with amber and copper and gold. Her fingers played with his hair as that thumb of his kept its path up her shirt, and she felt a molten heat forming within her at the sensation. 

Then the hand travelled low again, fingers just skimming the side of her hips and then the elastic of her pants. She let out a sigh and adjusted her hips towards him.

“You can touch me,” she breathed. 

He let out a low moan. His long fingers ghosted over her pants until one gave a hesitant stroke over the warmth between her legs. One finger became two as he stroked against her, and arousal began to pool for her in a way she’d never felt before. It was such a small amount of friction, but it made her head spin.

Ron was touching her. She always revered the little touches they shared— his hand on her hip, his forehead touching hers, his hand around her wrist— but this was something wholly new.

The fingers moving against her, combined with his lips sucking on neck, made the heat deliciously build. As he curled his fingers she found the need to pull him in closer. It wasn’t enough! She wanted to feel him on her, not through a wet scrap of fabric.

She let her hands travel from his silky hair down to the elastic of her pants and began to push them down. 

He stopped and looked into her eyes with a questioning look. She nodded and he hooked his fingers on them and trailed them down her legs before discarding them.

He gave an appreciative hiss before smiling up at her. 

“Fuck me, you’re pretty,” he said under his breath. Her cheeks burned, but not as much as the heat growing inside her as his hands trailed their way back to her. His fingers traced up her legs, just barely pressing their way into her flesh, before resting directly between her legs. He seemed to be looking at her with fascination, and the idea of him looking at her down there suddenly made her nervous. She gently guided his head up to her so they could kiss while his hand continued to explore. She gave a gasp as he managed to find her clit.

He held himself above her with one hand as the other brushed inside her, teasing wetness from her and making her feel light-headed. She guided his hand back up her shirt, to feel his hand graze her breast.

She wanted more of him. She wanted him against her. In a daring move, she hooked her feet behind his hips and crashed his hips into hers. 

He let out a startled yell before the bed gave a large lurch and Ron’s left hand that had been bracing him above her went clear through the mattress, sending him rolling off her and crashing to the ground.

The bed gave another shutter, and the bed, which Hermione had spelled to a queen size mattress, gave a spasm before shrinking to its normal twin size.

“Sorry! I should have reinforced that spell! I’m sorry!” she cried out, sitting up to check on Ron. He let out a series of ‘fuck fuck fuck’s under his breath as he slowly got to a crawling position, though not putting much weight on the left hand that had gone through the bed. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, putting a hand to his back. 

His whole back tensed and he scrunched his eyes closed.

“Ron?” she asked, rubbing his back a bit. “You okay?”

“Don’t,” he said, jerking away and giving a shake of his head.

He gave a hiss as he slowly rotated his left arm and flexed his hand. His shoulders were drawn so high they almost touched his ears before they slumped.

“Is your wrist hurt?”

“Huh?” he dazedly asked, blinking a few times and sitting up. “‘M okay.”

She nodded before grabbing her wand from the nightstand.

“Let me see your wrist.”

He held it to his chest. “Why?” 

She gave a roll of her eyes. “To fix it, of course.”

He gave a flex of his hand before sitting up on his feet and slowly extending his wrist to her.

She took hold of it and gingerly weighed it back and forth. “So you landed on it?”

“I guess,” he said unhelpfully. 

He held his breath as she held up her wand and did an ‘Episkey’ charm on it. 

“Better?” she asked, knowing she’d done it perfectly. 

He flexed his wrist and gave her a tight smile. “Yeah, I imagine that did it.”

She felt a flicker of doubt. “It’s better, isn’t it?”

“Course it is. You always do spells perfectly,” he said with a roll of his eyes. She began to frown. He hadn’t answered the question. “Hermione, I’m fine. I just feel a bit off after falling face first onto my manky floor. Who knows what filth I might have landed in. At least it wasn’t Harry’s old pants or something.”

She gave a laugh.

“You should come back to bed.”

“It’ll be a tight fit,” he said, eyeing the small twin. 

“Oh yes… Wait! Bring Harry’s camp bed over. I think the spell will last better if we’re merely transforming two beds into one, instead of extending one.”

He grabbed the bed, and removed all the sheets. With a few flicks of her wand she was again in a large queen bed. She realized she was still nude underneath his large shirt, and the lingering arousal hadn’t fully been chased away by his fall.

“Where were we?” she said, rather seductively she thought, which both impressed and surprised her. She’d never been very good at anything remotely close to sexiness, but she’d managed a rather saucy husky tone. 

He gave a bit of a gulp and turned off the lamp before joining her in the bed. As her eyes adjusted, the moonlight illuminated them well enough to just be able to make out his features. 

 She began to kiss him again, trying to rekindle the fire they’d had a moment ago, but he felt stiff and unresponsive. 

“Is your wrist still hurting?” she whispered.

“No, I’m fine,” he said, taking a breath before their kiss resumed. He began trailing kisses down her neck and skimming her sides as before, and she tried to feel that same fire. His hands were touching her in the same places, but there was a forced quality to every move and every kiss. Their bodies no longer coaxed and set pace with one another. 

His fingers went back to between her legs and poked at all the wrong angles. It felt like he was trying to pick a lock with a pair of chicken drumsticks. He’d always had very short nails, so she was surprised when they seemed to be poking her instead of the pads of his fingers. 

Then he stopped kissing her altogether and went lower until his head was even with her pelvis.

She wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of him looking down there. She’d barely ever looked down there, but didn’t imagine this could be a very flattering angle. At least it was dark in the room now?

He poked and prodded and she felt thoroughly turned off when one digit poked far too hard to the side of her labia.

“Erm… Maybe a little higher?” she asked, hoping he’d go back to her clit. 

She gave a jolt as his nails showed up again. That was even worse! And how was that even possible when they were so short?

She accidentally let out a huff and he gave a sigh.

“This isn’t doing anything for you, is it?” 

“It was…” The silence carried on, and she found herself entirely without words. 

“It was rubbish,” he supplied.

“No?” she squeaked, biting her lip. He gave a withering look up through his eyebrows. “I’m sorry! It was really good earlier, though!” 

He gave a snort. “Yeah I could tell it wasn’t going well when you weren’t as wet anymore…” 

She pressed her face into the crook of her elbow to hide her eyes. It had seemed sexy at the time, but him actually saying out loud that she was ‘wet’ was absolutely mortifying.

“It really isn’t a problem,” she mumbled.

“Yeah it is,” he said, laying beside her, elbow on her pillow. He slowly turned her face towards his, blue eyes boring into hers. His eyebrows lifted and a small smile twitched, but not enough to bring out his dimple. “Let’s start again.”

“I don’t know…” she said, not sure she wanted to have him poke at her like that again.

“Let’s try again. If you want me to stop at any point I will.”

She looked into his eyes and saw a glint of determination in them she’d seen before. He made that face when he made the right move in chess, when he was about to save a goal, and when he was about to pull off a powerful spell. When he looked like that, nothing much could go wrong. 

She gave a nod. It seemed too absurd to be shy, but she felt it burn through her as his hand cupped her cheek and brought her in for a languorous kiss.

 A chasm of intimacy burst open as his lips burned against hers. As she surrendered to his kisses, she became increasingly conscious of his body, hot and hard against hers. His fingers slowly slid down the narrow of her waist, then edged behind and found her bare backside. He moaned into their kiss as he massaged it, almost as if testing the globe in his hand. Whatever awkwardness that had descended on them was gone, and her body molded to his.

With every kiss she felt marked as his, and she grasped his hair again. Only moonlight lit him, but she imagined the riotous color of his hair sunning her as she basked in his attention. 

He stroked her between her legs again, this time finding a rhythm that made her hips jolt to meet him. The oversized shirt had ridden up past her breasts, uncomfortably bunching until she impatiently tore the shirt off over her head. He let out a rough groan and his hands and mouth stopped.

He pulled back a bit and stared at her nakedness.

She had the overwhelming impulse to reach for the sheet and cover herself, but resisted it. She held her breath as he silently stared, expression annoyingly enigmatic.

“W-well?” she let out, nerves making her voice pitch up. She was skinny, but still managed to have a bit of a tummy, and her breasts weren’t all that much to talk about, and her hips were too wide, and—

“Hermione,” he breathes out her name. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

She turned her head away. She wasn’t. Then his mouth was on hers again, and hands were exploring her breasts. His kisses trailed to the crook of her neck, to her clavicle then finally down her chest.

“Christ, you’re perfect. Fuck…” he said, almost to himself as he leaned down and took one of her nipples into his mouth, the other hand squeezing and kneading her breast.

He backed away to look at her again. The way he beheld her, she could almost believe she was beautiful and perfect. He had nothing but adoration in his eyes as his lips fell to her body. He trailed down her, as fingers grazed a hot trail, and made desire pool in her.

He went further down and her legs fell open to him. His fingers explored her, but this time they easily found a path that made her moan. He set a rhythm, and experimented with angles. She glanced down to see he was avidly watching her face, like he would a chess board. Eyes on her, he leaned forward. 

It began with a tentative lick while a pair of knuckles just grazed her in the right spot. He continued to do this and she threw her head back in a gasp. Then his lips dipped between her legs and began to suck at her clit. She let out a long whimper as he continued to alternate between lapping at her and sucking at her like she was a final meal. Heat and slickness built in her, making her tilt her hips into him, punctuating her gasps with jerks of her hips.

She was on the edge of falling, when he found the perfect rhythm and stayed there. Quick susurrations on her clit, and his fingers just barely grazing inside her, teasing and nearly fucking into her, made the coil inside her finally spring. 

A heady ‘don’t stop!’ barely made it out of her lips before she let out a sound like a sob as she came. She felt the spasm of it rip through her, and she clutched the pillow around her as her hips stuttered and followed his mouth, continuing to twist as his fingers slowed down.

She panted and shook her head as her thighs wobbled and finally relaxed, dropping her hips further into the mattress.

“Oh God…” she whimpered. “Fuck… Oh god…”

Her mind had never been more of a void. She was utterly shattered. There was nothing but sensation, still floating in aftershocks.

“You alright?” came a hoarse voice from between her legs.

She let out a rough laugh, then managed to open an eye from between her curls. 

“I’m… I just…” she gasped and shuddered a bit.

“Better?” he asked, knowing perfectly well that he’d done amazing.

“Yeah, I imagine that did it,” she panted, mirroring his words from earlier. “I think we ought to thank Harry in the morning.”

“Do you really need to bring up that specky git right now?” he moaned, kissing the inside of her thigh.

“Well, if it weren’t for him taking up Ginny’s room, I wouldn’t have gotten to experience… That!” she said with a shaky gesture.

“Took a bit, but I think I did alright in the end,” he said, a tired grin on his face as he wiped his mouth.

“More than alright!” she proclaimed. She looked further down the bed and saw he was still hard. She was so flushed and buzzing she wasn’t sure she had the ability to blush. “If you want, I can try to return the favor?”

Ron blanched and shifted his hips.

“It’ll go away on its own,” he said with another kiss to her thigh. She didn’t bother masking her confusion. Didn’t teenage boys always want to ‘get off’? Was he so disgusted from going down on her that he didn’t want her touching him? 

As if reading her thoughts, he continued. “It’s late and I want to be able to dream about that look on your face when you came. Fuck me, that was the hottest thing ever.”

He kissed her stomach right below her belly button then finally, wobblingly, crawled further up her body before collapsing beside her and kissing her. “I’ll definitely take a rain check though.”

“You sure?”

“I’m knackered. Dreams of me making Hermione Granger cum are all I need,” he hummed as he nuzzled up behind her. “I could get used to this.”

“So could I!” she said with a laugh. “I should clean up.”

“Nooo, just stay a little longer,” he whined, wrapping an arm around her middle and bringing the blankets onto them. Minutes passed. She wiggled in place as his breathing slowed.

“Just need to grab my wand.”

“Hmnnn,” he grunted into her side as she pulled her wand from the side table and did a quick clean up. She Accioed her shirt over, but had no way of putting it on without moving Ron. 

“Ron?” she whispered. A small snore erupted in her ear and she sighed. 

Dressing in the morning wasn’t the worst thing. Plus, she was draped in Ron, cozied up more intimately than she’d ever imagined she could be. His whole body radiated a comforting warmth, and in that one moment she felt more safe and contented than she had in years. Suddenly words she’d been achingly trying to keep at bay began to bubble up to the surface.

“Ron?”

He continued to snore.

In the safety of the darkness, in his arms, and without having to worry about his reaction, she whispered, “I love you.” 

She only got snores in return, but there was a sort of relief in having said it out loud. Any tension left in her body dissipated, and he felt so nice spooned up against her that she felt her eyes drift close for just a moment. 

* * *

She woke to the sound of apparition and a, “Ron, your mum is— oh shit! Sorry! Shit!” 

Dazedly she shook her head at Harry’s cursing then, horrified, remembered her state of undress. Ron hadn’t forgotten and quickly yanked the quilt up to her nose.

“Shut it, Harry! Do you want Mum to hear you?” Ron hissed.

“Right, sorry!” he said, turning around with his back to them. He stood in only his boxers, hands clutching his clothes from the night before. “Erm… So, your Mum was waking everyone since it’s a bit late, and I fell asleep in Ginny’s room, and your Mum didn’t catch me, but I wanted to let you know in case… Well, in case of this, I guess.”

As he explained, a currant-faced Hermione yanked the Cannons shirt on and looked for her pants. 

“And the best way to warn us was to Apparate directly in here to the foot of my bed?” Ron exclaimed, before reaching down to the foot of the bed and handing Hermione her pants. 

“Yeah, well I am a mite bit hungover…” 

“I’d tell you where some hangover potion is, but I don’t think you deserve it,” Ron replied, giving Hermione a peck on the cheek. “Alright we’re all decent now.”

“I’m really sorry!” said Harry, rubbing at his head. At first it looked like a tick of embarrassment, but he looked haggard enough that a hangover seemed the bigger culprit. “Er, where’s my bed?”

“It’ll be in the chicken coop if you do that again,” answered Ron.

Hermione finally gathered enough wits to grab her dress and say “I’ll meet you later,” and Apparated as silently as she could to Ginny’s room.

“There you are!” Ginny said, pulling on a pair of jeans. “Mum’s trying to get everyone up since it’s so late, and she almost put together where everyone stayed. Did Harry warn you?”

“If by warn me, you mean Apparate into the room and catch me completely starkers, then yes, he did an admirable job!”

“He did what?” Ginny roared with laughter. “Well I’m glad someone had a good time last night!”

“Didn’t you?”

“I mostly kept Harry from getting sick down the side of my bed. Though he did say he loved me, which was quite nice,” she said, a love-sick smile on her face.

Oh. 

Hermione still hadn’t heard anything like that from Ron. He hadn’t even wanted her to touch him.

“I can’t believe he Apparated in there,” Ginny continued. “I told him to do it outside the door! We heard Mum bustling about and he was rather panicked at the idea of her being mad with him.”

Hermione nodded.

“So… Starkers?” 

“Ginnyyy,” Hermione moaned and hid her face behind her hair.

“You know what? I don’t want to know,” said Ginny, running a brush through her long red hair. “Actually I do, but I think you’ve been through enough embarrassment for one morning. I’m going to go play some Quidditch, if Harry can get his act together. Want to come?”

Avoiding the house seemed a pleasant application of her time, but a quick glance to her book bag shuttered any thought of having a lark. She’d had her fun the night before, though she hadn’t earned it. She’d had enough avoiding. She needed to make plans for her parents.

* * *

It was arduous and barely fruitful, but at least she could say she’d put some thought into it, creating a schedule of places to visit over the next week to gather all the information she might need and who to glean it from. When she looked at the clock it was well past one in the afternoon. 

At the Burrow it was unusual to go so late in the day and not be disturbed. She also hadn’t seen Ron since the fiasco that morning. The embarrassment seemed a perfect punishment for being so self indulgent. It was hard to believe she’d let herself fall asleep nude in his bed. She’d been so relaxed and…

“Oh!” Hermione gasped.

She hadn’t remembered to put up her silencing spell. Had she needed it? Had she woken up in the night? Perhaps there was a way to subtly ferret the information from Ron. Maybe she could bring it up at lunch. It was a bit late for it, but people always poked their head in when a meal was being served, so it must not have happened yet.

Despite having much more to do, she had to admit she needed food, or at least some strong tea, if she was to continue. 

She went down the stairs to find the kitchen in uncharacteristic disarray. Bowls, trays and cutting boards littered every surface, but at the dining table was a very delicious looking feast of jacket potatoes with every sort of topping one could imagine all arranged in little ramekins.

“I bet there’ll be something to eat,” she heard Ginny’s voice carrying in from outside. She and a windblown Harry came in through the garden door. Her hair hung in an enviable curtain of beachy waves Hermione could never manage without bottles of Sleekeazy's. 

“This looks a treat, doesn’t it?” said Ginny, going to sit at the table. “Well, let’s get Mum and Ron here so we can dig in!”

Just then Ron came down the stairs wearing one of Mrs Weasley’s patterned aprons that was dwarfed by his tall frame. 

“Did you cook this?” Harry asked, looking impressed.

“Yeah… Mum’s been in her bedroom again,” he replied. 

They all knew that meant she was distressed and had holed herself in her bedroom. Those had been coming with fewer and fewer days between them, and Hermione had to wonder what had caused it this morning.

“Why’d you go to such trouble? We have stuff for sandwiches,” Ginny asked, mood forcibly upbeat.

“I was hoping to tempt Mum out of her bedroom.” Ron sat out napkins and cutlery, slapping the metalware onto the table with more force than was necessary. 

Harry and Hermione’s eyes met.

“We might want to clean off the kitchen counters, then,” said Ginny with a grin. “Looks a bit like a mad potion maker's laboratory.”

“You clean ‘em off, then, I’m famished.” 

“I can clean them off,” Hermione volunteered, hoping to cut the tension, and Harry joined her in the effort, saying, “I’ll help.”

“The food’s all ready now— just leave it!” Ron protested.

“It’ll only take a moment,” said Hermione.

“Plus you didn’t make the mess, Ron did,” Ginny unhelpfully added.

“Oh fine!” growled Ron, and with a swish of his wand the items on the counter rushed their way to the sink with a great clatter, the metal cooking sheets causing a crash that reverberated around the room making everyone jump, and give small yells in succession.  “There! Happy? It’s in the sink! Now will you all sit?”

“Merlin, Ron! Did you have to be so loud with it?” Ginny hollered, getting from her seat to get the rest of the dishes by hand. “What's gotten into you?”

“I just want people to eat the bleeding food! It took forever to make and it’s like herding a bramble of gnomes getting you lot to sit down and eat it all at once. No wonder Mum was always upset with us!” Ron groused. “I’m going to get her from upstairs, and when I get back, you lot better be seated at the table and piling up your potatoes!”

He stormed up the stairs, rattling the framed photos on the walls.

“You know, I always thought if one of us was to turn into Mum it’d be me, but I think Ron’s got it cornered. Did you see him, hands on his hip just like her!” Ginny snorted, miming Ron’s akimbo stance, and Hermione gave a reluctant laugh in turn. 

As much as his dark mood made her worry, she did enjoy watching Ron doing little domestic things around the house. There was something rather charming seeing the overgrown young man in a flowery apron in a tither about everyone sitting down to eat. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he takes up knitting soon. What do you think, Harry?”

Ginny looked beyond Hermione and her face fell. Hermione turned to see Harry was sitting stock-still, wand tightly gripped in his hand. Hermione instinctively grabbed her wand. A shiver spread up the back of her head. 

“You okay?” Ginny asked.

“Trays were loud, that’s all.” Harry’s eyes weren’t trained on any of them and he gave a stiff sort of shrug.

“Harry…” Ginny began, coming near him, but Harry shook his head. 

“M’going outside,” he muttered before bolting out the door. 

“Where’s he going?” Ron asked as he emerged from the stairs, looking cross. 

“Your banging about with the trays set him off,” Ginny spat, going for the door. 

Ron cursed before running ahead of her to the door.

“I’m the one who messed up, I’ll fix it,” he said, taking off his apron. “You two eat up. And Mum was asleep still, so I left her to it. Put some food aside for her and Harry with a warming charm, would you?” 

He didn’t wait for a response before going out the door. Ginny silently gathered together full plates for Harry and her mother, getting a third one for Ron, though he hadn’t asked her to. 

“I— I can’t do the warming charm… Still sixteen... Hermione would you?” 

Hermione dutifully did so, making sure not to look as Ginny wiped at her eyes and gave a sniff. The redhead went to the sink and started furiously scrubbing at some trays. 

“Shouldn’t we eat?” 

“What’s the point?” Ginny sniped, slamming a dirty set of tongs into the sink. “Ron wants us to all sit down and eat like things are normal, but they aren’t and I don’t know when they will be. Mum’s only up for a few hours at a time, Ron’s the one making food, Harry’s going off from loud noises, and George…” Ginny shook her head. “I just want… I thought after everything we could find some happiness, but it’s just impossible.”

“You did find some happiness earlier, though, didn’t you? Playing Quidditch a bit with Harry?” said Hermione, feeling every inch a fraud trying to buoy anyone's spirits. 

Ginny blushed a bit as she began scrubbing a pan. “We didn’t exactly get to the Quidditch part…” 

Hermione nodded.

“I suppose that’s all we can do right now, little pieces of happiness like that.”

The two girls cleaned the kitchen in silence until it gleamed. They dutifully ate their lunches, looking to the door every few minutes for the boys to return. Hermione was able to get away with eating very little thanks to Ginny’s distraction, and managed to vanish the contents of her plate before Harry and Ron returned, both looking rather pale, but Harry no longer had a vacant stare on his face. Ginny quickly got him a plate and the two sat to eat their meal while Ron took a plate up to his mother’s room. Hermione waited for him to come back to the table to eat his own meal. He didn’t.

After twenty or so minutes she went up the stairs to find him outside his parent’s bedroom. He sat on the steps to the fifth landing, head on his knees and arms wrapped around his legs. The meal still sat outside his mother’s door, untouched. Hermione made sure to step on every squeaky board to alert him to her presence before sitting down beside him.

“Was your Mum still asleep?”

Ron shook his head before sitting up and rubbing his hands over his face. 

“She’s crying and I can’t get her to stop…”

She desperately wanted to know what prompted his mother’s backslide, but didn’t want to push him. Pushing Harry had been disastrous the other day, and she hadn’t the energy to face it from Ron as well. Ron wasn’t like Harry, though. He didn’t bottle things up the same way, and she knew he’d open up and tell her without her having to harangue him for answers. 

“George got arrested for breaking his parole,” he said in a low voice, eyes not meeting hers. 

“What?! What parole?” 

“Night before last he Apparated right on top of the London Tower Bridge. I was up when Kingsley called, so me and Dad went to get George from the Ministry. He got parole. Last night he broke it by pointing his wand in public and someone saw and reported him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

"I wasn’t going to tell anyone. George gets enough looks, doesn’t he? He’s been such a mess, and Dad and I thought it’d be best Mum knew when things were all settled, but Kingsley Flooed the house to check on George about an hour ago, and well…”

“What a terrible way to find out.”

“Mum’s been holed up in her bedroom since. Harry took Ginny for a fly, so neither of ‘em know yet... I just thought maybe some food and tea would work to coax Mum out, but of course it didn’t.”

“Where’s George now?”

“With Bill, I think. Bill took it on this time.” Ron just shook his head. He stared down at his hand and gave a loud swear. 

“Is that the time?” he launched off the steps, barreling past Hermione.

“Where are you going?” 

“To finish this fucking buggering pissing piece of shit day!”

She scurried after him, but ended up a floor behind him as his long legs skipped steps with ease. She could hear his mutters all the way down the stairs.

“Need to get some wellies, clean the kitchen…” 

“Ginny and I saw to the kitchen” she called after him, hoping to slow him down.

“Oh, fuck me! The paperwork!” he moaned as he reached the last flight of stairs and Apparated with a loud crack. A few seconds later she heard another crack outside the house. 

She went to the window and saw Ron sprinting away, paper in one hand, wellies in another, not bothering to look back or give a hint of an explanation. 

For a terrible instant she was back next to that riverbank in Wales, rain pummeling her as she begged Ron not to leave her. 

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Little pieces of happiness… She supposed she’d have to live on the little pieces of happiness from the night before, because there weren’t any to be found today.

 --------------------------------------------------------------

Next chapter is Ron's POV again. Thanks for reading! If you like this and want to see more please review! :)

I've been terrible at responding, but please know I read them and EVENTUALLY I respond to everyone. :P

BIG THANKS TO @abradystrix FOR BETA-ING!

[mochegato]

Colossal Debts

For @maribat-secret-santa-2020.  Timinette and platonic Jasonette requested.

Jason owed him big for this.  Tremendously. Monumentally.  Colossally big.  This was Tim’s night off.  His night to relax at home… with a few cold case files and maybe video games.  No family, no obligations, no playing nice. Just him, alone.  Not even his friends were going to be over.  Just relaxation.  But nooooo.  Jason called and coerced him into helping him, or more specifically one of his drunken, loud-mouthed, idiot friends.  Make no mistake just because he let Jason coerce him into helping, that in no way meant he wasn’t going to collect big on this.  Tremendously. Monumentally.  Colossally big.

He scanned the room looking for someone who looked like he would be a friend of Jason’s but didn’t see anyone who stood out as an obnoxious jerk.  If Jason made him come all the way down here for no reason, Tim was going to make him take his nights for the next month.  He yanked his phone out of his pocket to give him a call only to have the phone start ringing before he could get past the lock screen.  Speak of the Devil… He pushed the answer button and opened his mouth to ask Jason what the hell, but Jason spoke before he could.

“Where the fuck are you?” he demanded.  “You said you were going to the bar.”

“I am at the bar,” Tim hissed back.  “I’m looking for your friend but I don’t see anyone that stands out.  Are you sure he’s still here?”

“I said ‘her’, dumbass.  And yes she’s still there.  She just called me saying she was going to walk home since you weren’t there,” Jason growled back.  “I swear to God, if something happened while you were fucking around…” he gave an aggrevated sigh.  “Look for a woman who looks completely out of place in a seedy bar and way the fuck out of your league.  Someone who seems like pure innocence and sunshine… drunk sunshine, very drunk if her friend is anything to go by.  Probably pouting and sitting back down after I threatened her to get her not to leave on her own.”

Tim scanned the bar again and saw a petite woman slump into a chair at the end of the bar and drop her head on her arms dramatically.  “I can’t see her face, but black hair, small?”

“Probably.  Her name is Marinette.  Don’t call her small to her face unless I’m there to see you do it.  And Tim?” He waited a beat to make sure he had Tim’s attention.  “Mistreat her in any way and I will throw parties in your townhouse every night during your entire three month stay in the ICU.”

“Yeah, yeah, got it.” Tim rolled his eyes.  Jason could at least come up with a somewhat new threat.  “One wrong move with your drunk girlfriend and you’ll kill me.”

“Not my girlfriend and I won’t be the one to do it.  There will be a line.  She’ll be at the front of it.” He hung up without further explanation.

Tim sighed and made his way over to the woman he was pretty sure was Jason’s “friend”.  He sat down next to the woman close enough to make sure she knew of his presence but far enough away not to invade her personal space.

“Not even remotely interested.  Thank you, next.” She mumbled into her arms, lifting one of her arms to clumsily wave him away.

Tim cocked his head to the side with an amused smile.  She had an adorable French accent.  “First time I’ve been turned down before the person even interacted with me.”

“Exciting day for you.  Congratulations.”  He was pretty sure she was slurring her words slightly but between the mumbling into her arms and her accent, it was hard to tell.

“Thank you.” He nodded to her even though she couldn’t see it.  “I’m Tim.”

“Don’t care,” she singsonged in an annoyed voice.

Tim gave an amused snort.  At least she was an amusing drunk.  “I’m Jason’s brother.  He sent me to come pick you up.  I take it you’re Marinette?”

Marinette’s head popped up to take him in and she immediately regretted it, dropping her head back down with a groan.  “Too fast.  That was a mistake.”  She kept her head buried for a few moments to let the blood settle before slowly turning her head to face him, still resting her head on her arms.  Tim’s breath hitched slightly when her eyes met his.  Her eyes were bright and brilliant and utterly captivating.  She was looking at him with a soft smile.  “So you’re Jason’s brother.  Not what I was expecting.  Which one are you?”

“Tim,” he repeated with a smile.

“Oh, you’re the smart one.”  She nodded with a teasing smile.  She raised her head slightly to see him better.

Tim scoffed.  “I’m surprised he didn’t say the annoying one.”

“You’re all the annoying one.” She gave him a knowing smile, as though she was letting him in on a joke.  Her face suddenly turned serious and penitent.  “Thank you for picking me up.  I’m sorry for whatever threat he used to get you to come.  He’s always been so overprotective.  I’m sorry you got caught up in it.” She smiled gratefully at him and Tim’s heart skipped a beat at the sight.  

She suddenly straightened up in her seat and turned back to her empty drink in front of her, frowning at the sight.  She moved the ice cubes around, searching intently for liquor she hoped it was hiding. “I’m sorry for interrupting your night.” She turned back to him with concerned eyes.  “Oh!  Did you have plans for tonight?  Were they fun?”

“Uh, no.” He looked down sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.  “I was just relaxing.”

“I’m sorry.  Oh, you should get a drink!  You can celebrate with me.  You can’t celebrate without a drink.”  She motioned wildly to get the bartender’s attention.  She was suddenly very excited, her grin incredibly wide and all signs of weariness and serenity gone.  

Tim stared at her for a few moments trying to figure out how to respond.  “No, I’m good,” he said calmly, trying to bring her emotional levels back down.  She pouted at him and gave him puppy dog eyes.  Tim looked over to her drink to keep from looking her in the eyes.  He needed to distract her, and himself.  “What are you celebrating?”

“My company!  I just officially launched my company on Monday!  Isn’t that so cool?  It’s so cool.” She nodded to herself.  “Oh! We should have a drink to celebrate.”

“Yes, very cool.  Congratulations,” he confirmed.

She narrowed her eyes at him and huffed.  “I know you’re just patronaging… parrotizing… patronizing!  Patronizing me, but I’ll take it anyway because you’re one of the only ones to say it.  So, thank you very much.”  She gave him an overly wide smile.  “You should get a drink to celebrate!”  She exclaimed excitedly, eyes opening wide as though she just thought of it.

Tim chuckled.  “No, thank you.  I’m good and we should probably cut you off too.” He handed his card to the bartender. “I’d like to close out her tab, please.”

She pouted at him, her euphoric mood suddenly plummeting along with her shoulders. “But it’s a celebration.”

“Is this man bothering you?” The bartender eyed Tim suspiciously.

“He doesn’t want to celebrate with me.”  She sighed and slumped onto the bar again, resting her chin on her arms.  “Nobody wants to celebrate with me.  Even my friend left,” she reported morosely.

“I was sent to take her back to her home,” Tim assured the bartender.  

She kept a skeptical eye on him and addressed Marinette again.  “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Hm?” Marinette looked up at her with a confused look.  She looked over to Tim again.  “Oh, right.  No. Yeah.  I’m fine.  My brother sent him.  If he tried anything, Jason would cut it off.”  She returned her unfocused gaze to the bartender.  Suddenly she straightened up, hands grasping the edge of the bar almost knocking over her empty glass in the process.  “His hand!  I meant his hand.  He’d cut off his hand!  Not…” she surreptitiously looked Tim up and down.  She slumped back down into her seat and hid her head in her arms again. “I’m not drunk enough to finish that sentence.”

The bartender nodded with a chuckle and left to ring up the tab.

“So… brother?” Tim prompted her laughing.

“Hm,” she hummed in confirmation.  “Self-proclaimed.”

“How did you two meet?”

“Bar fight.  In Paris.”

“Of course you did.  Did he step in to protect you in the middle of it, start it, or both?”

She scoffed at him.  “I started it.  Actually, legally, I didn’t start it.  The guy who grabbed my ass started it.  I just finished it.  Jason pretended to be my brother to the cops and made sure I got home safe. We hung out a lot after that for…” she eyed him critically, “… reasons,” she finished uncertainly.  “The brother title stuck.”  She looked around the bar, eyes drifting from one thing to another with no apparent link.  “Stupid cover.  Brother,” she scoffed.  “His French wasn’t that good.”  She turned to Tim with a bewildered look.  “And do we look alike?  Even a little bit?”  

She scoffed again and faced forward, moving her arms to rest them on the bar with a thump but missed the bar.  The momentum threw her forward and her reflexes were just a beat too slow to stop herself from crashing into the bar.  She braced herself for the impact but instead felt a soft, warm embrace halting her movement.  She looked up at her savior in awe.  Tim looked down at her with a soft smile.  “Careful. The bar moves.”

Marinette blushed as she settled back on her seat.  “Thank you,” she answered quietly, looking away from his eyes.  

Tim nodded and moved back to his seat, but kept his arms around Marinette until he was certain she was stable.  “So was the reason you hung out so much after that so he could cover for you in more bar fights?” Tim joked.

Marinette hummed affirmatively.  “I know you’re being condensate… condescend… joking, but kind of. They seem to follow us. Or maybe it’s just fighting in general that I can’t get away from.”  She frowned at the bar, remembering something that Tim desperately wanted to know more about. He didn’t like the frown on her face. He wanted to get her to smile again.

“I wasn’t trying to be condescending or patronizing.  Promise.  At least not towards you.  Jason, yes absolutely.  But not you,” he spoke with sincerity in his voice.  

She stared at him wide eyed for a few moments before looking away shyly. “Okay.”

As if to accentuate her earlier point, he heard loud yelling halfway down the bar. One man stood up and started shoving another over something Tim couldn’t quite make out.  Tim jumped out of his seat and reached for Marinette to get her to safety.  He’d just come back later to get his card.  Protecting Marinette was more important right now.

Marinette brushed his hands away inelegantly.  “We’re fine here.  That guy there, with the glasses?  He’s going to jump in any second now.  That’s going to push the fight in the other direction.  Once he jumps in his friend is going to jump in too.  They’re going to be fum… stum… fighting around that big table there.  One of them is going to be thrown on it.  Probably glasses’ friend.  That’s going to get Curly, the bald one?  Curly was the bald Stooge right?” Tim opened his mouth to respond but she was already moving on.  “So Curly’s going to jump in, right?  Once he’s in the bartender is going to pull out that bat and probably the gun she keeps under the bar and stop it, ‘cuz she likes him.”  She looked around in panic.  “Don’t tell anyone!  That’s a secret.  I think.” Deciding nobody was around to hear, she slumped back down and continued her narrative.  “The fight will move away from us until the bartender ends it.”

Tim eyed her skeptically and turned to watch the bar fight unfold.  His mouth dropped as it happened exactly like Marinette had predicted.  He whipped his head around when he heard a loud bang next to him.  “Oh my God someone stole my phone!” she whisper shouted to him, searching around frantically.  

Tim looked down to the source of the noise, something hitting the floor, he sighed disbelievingly.  He bent down and picked up her phone she had dropped and handed it back to her.  “It’s right here.”

She looked between him and the phone a few times.  “Oh my God,” she whispered out, “you stole my phone.”

Tim stared at her for a few moments and started laughing incredulously.  She could predict the events of the fight, incorporating observations of multiple figures, inputting social relationships, attitudes, and physiques, but she couldn’t figure out she dropped her phone. He looked at her fondly for a moment before furrowing his brow when a thought occurred to him.  “So… you were here with a friend and your friend just left you alone?”  It seemed incredibly irresponsible considering her current state and honestly, Tim was a little worried about what Jason would do to the friend when he found out.

Marinette scoffed.  She turned her head to give him an insulted look.  “You think he’s better at taking care of me than I am?”  She straightened up in her seat to her full height attempting to look more intimidating and faced her body toward him.  “Even drunk, I could handle myself as well or better than him.”

Tim held up his hands in mock surrender.  “No.  I am not doubting your capabilities,” he tried to placate her.  “I’m just saying having more than one person, especially when drinking is involved is safer.

Marinette stared at him for a few moments deciding if she thought he meant it or not before seeming to come to the conclusion he meant it.  She nodded at him.  “Agreed.  To be fair though, he…”  She raised her arm up, propped her elbow on the bar, and sloppily plopped her chin on her hand, staring at him intently.  “…you have gorgeous eyes.”

Tim gaped at her and blushed, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. “Than…”

“To be fair,” she continued not letting him finish his expression of gratitude and returning her glossy stare toward the bar.  “He wasn’t exactly sober either and his girlfriend was caught in that rogue attack across town and he was too worried about her to think straight. That’s probably why you’re here instead of Jason anyway.”  Tim whipped his head around to see who was close enough to hear her, but almost the entirety of the bar was focused on the remains of the fight.  There was nobody close by, but she was drunk enough to suddenly start announcing things loudly enough for everyone in the bar to hear. He really, really needed to get her out of there but they were still waiting on his card and the receipt.  

Marinette suddenly furrowed her brow and looked down at the bar top. “Oh.  I don’t think I was supposed to say that.”

He tried to fix her with a stern look but it came out softer than he intended. “What did you mean by that?”

Her face quickly morphed to a blank expression when she faced him again.  She blinked a few times.  “By what?  I don’t know what I said.  I don’t know anything, not a thing.  Mind completely empty.”  She tried to tap her temple to indicate where her brain should be, in case Tim needed the visual reminder, but flinched back when she accidentally poked herself in the eye instead.  She scrunched her eyes shut and turned toward the bar again.  “And filter completely missing,” she tried to mutter under her breath, but instead said it just as loudly.

Tim stared at her for a few moments uncertain how he felt about her clearly knowing their secret, or at least Jason’s and having the will but clearly not the ability to keep quiet about it.  He burst out laughing, deciding giving into the absurdity of the situation was the best response.  “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”  He nodded to the bartender who just returned his card after dealing with the fighters.

“I know,” she announced in an exasperated voice and throwing her arms out to the side.  “You would think I’d be better by now.  You should hear… I really like your smile, too.”  She smiled sweetly at him.

Tim smiled self-consciously.  “I like yours too.”

She beamed back at him and turned back to the bar.  “… hear some of the excuses I’ve come up with.” She turned to Tim with a desperate look on her face.  “I once said I had to water my hamster. I don’t even have a hamster.” She looked back to the bar again and slumped back into her seat.  Her face turned sad.  “I want a hamster.”  

She waved her arms wildly as a thought occurred to her.  “Wait!” She looked at him with panic in her eyes.  “If Jason’s your brother and my brother… does that make you my brother too?”

Tim stared at her for a second.  “No. Not even remotely.”

“Are you sure?  Transitive properties and all.” She looked at him uncertain.

“I am absolutely positive.  In no way could you be considered my sister,” he promised.

She sighed in relief, relaxing back into her seat with a contented smile. “Okay, good.  You should get a hamster.”

“I think it’s time to get you home,” he said shaking his head and getting up. He reached out to help her up and support her.

She looked over at him stricken.  “Oh no, I made you uncomfortable!  Do you have a pho… phoban?” she scrunched up her face in concentration.  “Phobia!” she announced proudly.  Before leaning into Tim.  “Do you have a fear of hamsters?  I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have brought them up.  It’s okay, you don’t need to get one.”

Tim fought the smile that wanted to appear on his lips at her concern.  “No,” he assured her.

“Oh.” She looked down trying to come up with another reason for his sudden decision to leave.  “Did I make you mad because you hate hamsters?” She asked in a very serious tone like that was the most rational next explanation.

He didn’t even fight the smile and chuckle this time as he wrapped his arm around her waist to help her toward the exit.  “No.  I have no opinions on hamsters at all.”

“Well that’s just sad,” she dismissed him and curled into his side, allowing him to guide her outside.  After a few steps she stopped and stood up straight.  “I annoyed you!” she moaned ruefully.

“No.” He ran his hands up and down her arms to calm her and get assure her he was not upset.  His breath hitched when she turned her watery, shining blue eyes to his, pausing his hands as he got lost in her gaze.  He shook his head to focus back on the task at hand, not hitting on the beautiful, sweet, funny, interesting, drunken friend of Jason.  “It’s just getting late and I think you could use some sleep,” he said gently.

“Oh… okay,” she answered slightly dazed from his gaze as well.  Her gaze shifted to take in his face.  “You’re very handsome.  You have great hair too.  Does it naturally do that?”  She reached up to touch his hair, but jerked her hand back so violently she would have fallen over if Tim wasn’t supporting her weight.  “I am so sorry.  That was not okay.  I forgot you’re just here because Jason asked you.  I don’t know you and I can’t just touch you without your permission.”

Tim looked down pointedly at his arm around her waist but she completely missed the look.  She groaned and hid her head in her hands.  Tim tightened his grip around her waist and continued leading her to his car. “It’s okay.  I’m glad I came down and met you.  And, if I was offended I would have tried to move away instead of leaning into it.  You can touch my hair if you want,” he assured her.  “And anything else,” he muttered under his breath.

She looked up at him with a cute look of wide eyed confusion.  “What?”

“What?” he answered back just as innocently.  “Um… So… You and Jason are close?”  He asked carefully trying to distract her while he opened his car door for her.

She hummed noncommittally.  “As close as Jason lets anyone get.  He’s like the big brother I never wanted.  I think I was adopted against my will.”

“Oh?” He prompted as he closed the door.  He needed her to stay awake so he knew where to take her.  And it had the added benefit of allowing him to get to know her a bit better… and possibly blackmail on Jason.

She hummed again when he got in on the driver’s side.  He watched her fumble with the seat belt as she spoke.  “Something about the dead heroes club?”

He froze.  He snapped his eyes to hers.  “You were a hero?”

Her eyes bugged out and snapped up to his.  “Noooo, what?”  She looked back down at the belt latch, trying a few more times to get it to click.  She huffed after a few more tries.  “Reverse polarization.”

“What?” Tim asked her trying to figure out where the hell that had come from.

“Reverse polarization.  That must be it.  The… the square part is repelling the other square part.  That’s why I can’t get it to work.” She nodded to herself. “Reverse polarization.  They don’t want to be together.”  She paused for a moment.  “If that isn’t some kind of symbolism… I don’t know what for, but something.”

Tim gave an amused smile and pushed the latch into the buckle.  Marinette gasped and looked at him in awe.  “How did you stop the polarization?”

“Magic,” Tim answered looking away, fully realizing there would be no way to explain the lack of magnets involved.

Marinette gasped.  “You’re magic too?”  She stared at him excitedly for a few moments before her face scrunched up again.  “You guys aren’t magic.  Batman doesn’t like magic.  You lied.”

Tim stared at her, thinking very carefully about his next words and running through all the things she just revealed.  First, she knew he was a bat.  Second, she knew Batman didn’t like magic.  Third, she said ‘too’.  So either she knew someone who was magic or she was magic.  Fourth, she had taken him seriously and thought he was lying to her. He decided the last one was the immediate issue.  The rest could be dealt with when she woke up in the morning.  Or when he could corner Jason.  “Sorry, it was a joke.  I didn’t think you would take me seriously.  I’m sorry for misleading you.  It was not my intention,” he promised solemnly.

Marinette studied him and cocked her head to the side and finally nodded. “Okay.  I don’t like liars.  Even though I am one, but I don’t like it.”

“So why do you?”

“Have to,” she shrugged.

“Because you’re a hero, like Jason?” he prompted again.

“Hero’s not the right word.” She shook her head jerkily.  “You don’t have heroes.”

Vigilante,” he suggested.

“Yes!” She looked excitedly at him then realized their conversation.  “Nooooo.” She looked straight out the windshield. Tim focused on the road as well and pulled out into traffic.  “I was never a vigilante,” she continued absentmindedly.

“Were you a hero?” he asked again.  “A hero that died and came back?”

“Hm? What?” She raised her eyebrows at him as though seeking clarification.  “I’m sorry my English isn’t very…” she screwed up her eyes to think, “… well.”  She nodded proudly at herself.

Tim scoffed at her.  “Your English is excellent.  You have to focus to mess it up.”

“Aww, thank you!” she beamed at his praise.  “I haven’t been speaking it very long.”

He opened his mouth to press the subject but decided that wouldn’t be fair to her.  He wouldn’t want someone to take advantage of him if he were in a weakened state.  He wouldn’t do it to her.  “Where do you live?”

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the door’s glass.   She rambled off her address.  Tim chuckled lightly.  “I meant here… in Gotham.  Not France.”

Marinette’s eyes flew open.  “Oh! Um.”  She frowned to think about it.  They hadn’t been living there very long and she remembered more by sight than by actual address.  “6th street.  No 7th.  8th?  9th. Definitely 9th.  Sorry,” she smiled sheepishly at him and closed her eyes again.  “No!” she jumped forward, “27th!” She looked away and frowned.  “No, that’s not right either.”

Tim sighed and tried not to smile at the cute faces she was making.  He decided this was absolutely fruitless.  The only solution would be to call Jason.  He picked up on the fourth ring with an annoyed voice.  “No, you can’t date her.”

“That was not the question.  And also, fuck you.  Where does your girl live?”

“She’s not mine and why don’t you ask her?”  After a beat, he amended himself.  “Actually, she is.  She’s mine. You can’t date her.”

Tim scoffed at him.  “She already said you adopted her like a little sister.  B rub off on you, Jay?”  He smirked as he drove knowing exactly the face and gestures Jason was making to that. Before he could respond, Tim continued, “She doesn’t remember her address.”  He looked over to her.  Her head was resting on the glass again and her eyes were closed.  Her breathing was even and her mouth hung open slightly. “And I’m pretty sure she just fell asleep.  I can link to the batcomputer and look it up, I guess.”

“NO! I don’t want B to know about her yet.”

“Why,” Tim asked suspiciously, the previous conversation about magic popping into his mind.  It could be just Jason being Jason and wanting to keep everyone at arm’s length or it could mean something was going on with this woman and he didn’t want Bruce to act on it.

“Because it’s B.  I want her off his radar as long as possible.”

“That tells me exactly nothing.” He rolled his eyes.  “Is she dangerous?”

“Only if you try to grab her ass or try to hurt someone.  I just don’t want Bat dad getting his hands on her,” he explained, his growing annoyance clear in his voice.

“So, she is a hero, a magical one.” Tim nodded at the confirmation.

“No…” Jason answered tentatively.  “… It’s complicated.  And I’m not going to explain it.  Just… take her to your place for tonight.”

“Why my place?”

“She needs some place to crash.  She’s a good person.  And you want to hook up with her despite me telling you to back off.”

Tim nodded his head to the side in acknowledgement.  He wasn’t wrong.  And if she slept at his place tonight he could keep an eye on her to make sure she was okay and maybe talk to her in the morning.  “Fine.  I’ll take her to my place.”

“And Tim?”

“Yes?”

“You sleep on the couch.”

“You know I have a guest room, right?  A few, in fact.”

<><><><><> 

The next morning came earlier than Tim was prepared for.  He really wanted to stay in bed for a few more hours, but he was afraid of Marinette waking up in a strange bed and freaking out with nobody there to answer questions.  He dragged himself out of the guest bed and started making coffee for them.  He would have started breakfast for them, but he didn’t know how long she would be sleeping and he couldn’t cook.  He just decided he could order some food to be delivered when he heard shuffling from the kitchen entrance.  

He looked up to see Marinette in the doorway, nervously rubbing her arms, an anxious smile on her face.  She looked absolutely beautiful despite being a bit rumpled and disheveled.  “Hi,” she waved awkwardly.

Tim gave her a disarming smile.  “Hi.”

She looked around uncertainly.  “Um… if you don’t mind me asking… Where am I?” The apprehension was clear in her voice.

Tim smiled calmly, trying to reassure her that she was safe.  “You’re in my townhouse.”

“Right, right.  Cool. Cool.” She shifted nervously. “And we didn’t?” She motioned vaguely between them.

Tim’s smile widened at her expression.  “No.  I slept in the spare room.”

“Oh thank god.” She let out a relieved breath.  “I didn’t think we did considering I’m still dressed but… Oh, no offense to you.  I just…”

“Weren’t yourself or able to make responsible decisions last night?” He asked with an amused glint in his eyes and a smirk.  He motioned to a chair at the counter.

“Yes.” She sighed out, grateful for his understanding.   She suddenly straightened unnaturally stiff and studied him apprehensively for a few moments.  “You say that like you know I wasn’t making responsible decisions last night.  Tell me I didn’t do anything I should regret or be embarrassed about last night, please.”

“Other than saying you wanted to jump me and get married and have babies in a house filled with hamsters?” he offered innocently.

“OH MY GOD!”  Her face turned bright red faster than she could bury it in her hands to hide it.

His laughter boomed out of him.  “I’m kidding. I’m totally kidding.” He only laughed louder when she gave him an absolutely adorable pout.  

“That was not funny.  You’re mean.” She sat down in the offered chair with a huff.  “Stop being mean to the hungover urchin you housed for the night.”

His laughter calmed quickly and he had the decency to look guilty.  “I’m sorry.  You’re right.  That was mean.  You were perfectly polite and sweet all night.  You didn’t do anything embarrassing at all.  The only thing I would be embarrassed about in the morning was telling me my eyes were pretty and I was handsome.  Which isn’t even embarrassing, I’m just easily embarrassed.  It was very nice to hear though.”

The rosy color returned to her cheeks as she studied his eyes searching them to see if he was telling the truth this time.  She must have found that he was because she looked down and nodded.  “Yeah, drunk me is very honest.”  Tim blushed slightly at her admission.  “I swear I’m not usually like that.  My friend and I were just celebrating and things spiraled.”

Tim nodded in understanding.  “Congratulations again, in case you don’t remember me saying it last night.  You never said what kind of company it is.”

“Thank you.” She gave him a grateful smile.  “It’s a fashion company.  I’m a designer.  I’m really excited to finally have a store front up and running.”  She looked around his townhouse, really looking at it for the first time.  “Um… no offense.  Who are you?

Tim chuckled.  “And drunk you has no memory retention.”

“I am so sorry,” she moaned into her hands.

He chuckled.  “Don’t be. I don’t drink often but when I do, I’m pretty much the same, and significantly less cute in the process.” Marinette blushed and looked down to try unsuccessfully to hide it.  “I’m Tim.  I’m Jason’s brother.  He asked me to pick you up last night since he was helping with the rogue attack.”

“He was?”  She looked at him, the picture of innocent confusion.

“Oh, sober you is much better at acting dumb than drunk you.”  Tim commented with a shake of his head and handed her a cup of coffee.  “I’m impressed.  I would have believed that if I didn’t know better.”

Her eyes widened at him.  “What did…”

“Just that you knew Jason was a vigilante.  Is there more?” he asked with a teasing smile.

She opened her mouth to deny it before she thought better of it and narrowed her eyes at him playfully.  “You were going to be nice to the hungover urchin.  I’m too hungover for mind games.”

“I actually never said that.  But I’m willing to make it up to you.” He offered her a charming smile and leaned across the counter toward her.  “Want to go get breakfast?  My treat. We can talk and get to know each other… if you want.”

Marinette beamed at him, “I would love to.”  She suddenly got a mischievous glint in her eye.  “How pissed do you think it will make Jason?”  Tim hummed noncommittally.  Honestly he wasn’t sure.  Jason seemed surprisingly okay with Tim bringing her to his house, but Jason was also extremely overprotective of the people he cared about so…

She leaned forward conspiratorially with a devious grin.  “We should take a picture that makes it look like more is going on and send it to him.”  Tim raised his eyebrows in surprise.  Did she just… “Actually, maybe not.” She waved away the idea and leaned back in her chair again.  “You’d be the one that would have to deal with the aftermath of that.  That wouldn’t be fair and Jason can be an absolute asshole when he’s being protective.”

“Jason would hate it.  Let’s do it.”  Tim’s expression morphed to match her previous grin.

Marinette’s face brightened with excitement.  “Really?”

Tim nodded, “I am always up for messing with my brothers.”

Marinette looked away shyly.  “Okay, well, I was thinking you could take a picture of me kissing your cheek and send it to him?  If you’re okay with me doing that.”

“I am absolutely okay with you kissing me,” Tim nodded, pulling out his phone. His cheeks colored quickly when he realized what he said.  “I mean…”

“Ready?” she interrupted, the slight blush on her cheeks the only indication that she had heard him.

He nodded mutely and positioned the phone to take the picture.  He nearly dropped the phone when he felt her soft lips brush against his cheek.  It took a moment for him to remember he was supposed to be taking a picture of the kiss, not just enjoying it.  Too quickly, she pulled away, looking at him with expectant eyes.  “Did we get it?  How does it look?”

He stared at her dumbly for a few seconds, still recovering from the kiss. “Um, right,” he turned to view the picture.  “You look gorgeous.  It!  It looks gorgeous.  I’ll just… I’ll send it to Jason.”  His fingers fumbled through the screens to send the picture.  Would she mind if he set it as his screensaver?  It wasn’t creepy if the picture was her idea, right?

“And… could you send it to me too?” she asked timidly.

He looked up at her in surprise and quickly gave her a happy grin.  “How about you take one with your phone. Maybe I can kiss your cheek this time.”

Marinette’s cheeks turned bright pink.  She bit her lower lip and nodded at him.  Tim grinned as he leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek.  Maybe he owed Jason instead. Tremendously.  Monumentally.  Colossally big.

[yandere-mha-blog]

A yandere story that has no direction full of hijinks 

Part ten: Dabi and Hawks fight /again/ and an old face pops up

“I need to use the restroom.” Kent said getting up, but Dabi grabbed his shoulder and made him sit down

“No you don’t.” he said

“Yes I do.” Kent said

“Let the man take a piss, yeesh your controlling side is showing.” Keigo taunted, and Kent used that excuse to get out of there and hide in the bathroom.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dabi asked

“Well two things really.” Keigo informed him “firstly to thank you because your little incident just brought me and (name) closer, secondly i think it is wise if you stay away from (name) unless you want a repeat of what happened in the back alley.” “Are you threatening me?” Dabi asked

“Yes, I thought I made that very clear.” Keigo said, that pissed Dabi off so Dabi decided to best course of action was to punching Keigo right across the face Dabi did pack a punch when it did land, so Keigo hit the wall behind him, but again Keigo is fast and lifted his leg up and kicked Dabi in the face, his shoe pressing right against Dabi face and staying there, Keigo though he made it clear but Dabi grabbed his leg and then proceed to drag him across the table and Keigo crashed on the floor, but Keigo got up really quickly and proceed to grab Dabi shirt collar and then dragged him across the bar, ruining so many peoples drink, letting go and Dabi then proceed to fall of the bar table and on the floor

“Okay that's it.” Dabi said his voice was cold and he grabbed a wine bottle front he shelf, the bartender not wanting to get in the middle of this ducked for cover and didn't even try to stop dabi, shame because that wine bottle was 90 dollars total, and now it was ont he floor around the shattered glass.

“Fine by me!” Keigo said flicking his knife out

“BOTH OF YOU STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!” they heard a ladies voice just as Dabi got kicked over the head by the lady “some people are trying to enjoy themselves and -e hawks is that you?”

Dabi was laying on the floor rubbing his head as the lady kicked the broken wine bottle out of his head and then proceed to stand on him

“Usagiyama, I mean Mirko-”

“Just call me Rumi, what are you doing, her knucklehead? I thought you left the whole...fighting thing.”

“I did , this is just something personal.” Keigo said, referring to Dabi who couldn't move. “What about you, you're still doing the whole...Sukeban thing….”

“NAh I left, my dad wanted me to run the family dojo and being involved in petty crime isn't a good look so here I am, still...who the hell is this guy.”

“Well I hate to break up the family reunion but CAN YOU GET OFF ME NOW!” Dabi yelled

“I still don't trust you.” She said “as for you Hawks-”

“It's Keigo.”

“Keigo, why would you pick a fight with this wuss.”

“I can still hear you.” Dabi said

“Ah he is the ex boyfriend of my current close friend and he broke into her house.” Keigo explained like it was the most normal thing is the world while Rumi look half perplexed half horrified

“Okay then well, here you go.” She said picking him up like a mother cat would hold their kitten.

“I think he got the message.” Keigo said as she placed Dabi back on his feet, and Kent poked his head out of the bathroom hearing the competition go down.

“Hi Kenny, we got your friend here.”

“Oh sweet a two on two fight we should take this outside.” Rumi said cracking her knuckles and Kent was trying to avoid any fighting that day.

“Uhh I think I will have to decline, I'll just take this guy home.” Kent said and ushered Dabi out the door.

“You are lucky your friend showed up, you won't be lucky next time.” Dabi said

“Dude please. be. Quite.” Kent said and the bar door closed, and the other customers were glaring Keigo down, so Rumi did the good thing and paid the tab and left with Keigo.

“Your still as reckless as ever.” She said

“Say the woman who just dropped kicked a guy with a broken wine bottle.”

“Eh i have dealt with worse men, so he is the ex of your friend and he broke into her house, why didn't you call the cops?” She asked

“He gets off scot free because of his daddies money.” Keigo said in a mocking tone in the last part.

“Ugh, the only way guys like that learn their lesson is if you beat it into him.” She said “So you like this girl or something?”

“Whattt, well I mean we are friends, and she is sweet, and understanding, but like-like her nooo.” Keigo said

“Then why are your ears turning red, your ears always turn red when you are embarrassed.” She said

“Okay fine you got me you don't have the punch the truth out of.” Keigo said “I mean I like her for sure, but after that mess I don't think she needs a guy that was in the same, ahem, profession.”

“Maybe she just attracts that type, and when did you turn into such a wimp?” She asked

“I'm not a wimp, I'm trying to be more normal and avoiding that past part of me.” “Then why are you letting it hold you back from confessing, see you are weak minded.” she said poking in between his eyebrows “We used to live every day like it was our last, I mean, a car accident or fight could kill you, now you are scared of asking a  girl you like out.”

“Well considering she broke up with him, maybe give her more time.” Keigo said

“Yup and if you don't confess, I'll hunt you down and tell her myself.”

“Rumi, do not do that.”

“Then you better confess you little Eyas.” She said “Anyway my dinner was ruined so I'm going to head home, don't do anything reckless, I won't be there to save your ass this time.” “Thanks again Rumi.” Keigo said, waving her off, and went home for the night. 

(Sukaban-  means delinquent girl or boss girl in Japanese)

(Eyas- a baby hawk) 

[bakubabes-tatakae]

Request: Hell's Yea we'd love some Renji! How about we after (birthday) party drunken fluff smut?? To stick with a theme 😉 Maybe Renji with an s/o that also has tattoos, especially in obvious places? I love Renji so much I'll take what I can get 🤣

I know this is really late, but I really hope that you enjoy this if you see it nonny! Really wanted to write for Renji today and this was one of my favorite requests I had for him. 🥺❤

Blissful Birthday || {NSFW} Renji x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, 18+ content, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 1.4k

It had been a long time since Renji had been allowed to open up like this. It had been a long time since he’d truly been allowed to have a break from his soul reapers duties and it couldn’t have come at a better time. His birthday had always been one of his favorite times of the year. Renji wanted nothing more than to be able to get drunk and spend his time with his good friends.

The more drinks that the crimson-haired man got into him the more he wanted to go home and see you. He had wanted to have a guys night out, but now he was regretting not inviting you to come along.

Not only did he feel like going home to spend time with you, the alcohol was giving him urges that were intensified ten fold.

Renji ran his hand through his hair, enjoying having it down for the first time in a long time when he wasn’t asleep, and watched as the people around him danced to the music and enjoyed the drinks in their hands. Icihgo, Shuhei, and Toshiro had wandered onto the dancefloor not long before, leaving him to stand by the bar himself.

The many females that were around stared at him, watching every move that he made. Renji had always had that effect on the opposite sex. Each of their staring eyes made him want to go home more and more.

Renji approached Ichigo, stumbling a little with his drunken feet. Ichigo caught him and a laugh erupted from the both of them. “Hey man, I’m having fun and all, but I’m definitely ready to go whenever you guys are. I’ve got three females at the bar watching me and I know I’m close to my limit.”

Ichigo laughed slightly at the way Renji nearly begged him and placed his hand on the back of his neck. “Don’t worry about it man. We’ve been out for a while. I’ll round of the guys and we can head out.” Ichigo reached into his wallet and handed Renji his card. “Head to the front and pay our tab.”

Renji took it from him and walked back toward the bar, handing the card to the man at the register and giving Ichigo’s name. While he waited for the guys to meet him he noticed a brunette haired girl approaching him.

He tried to act like he hadn’t noticed her, but it was too late. The female leaned against the bar next to him and smiled a devious smile. “Hey there, hunk. Where are you headed? Don’t tell me you’re leaving already.”

Renji gave a weak smile, guilt hitting him even though he hadn’t even done anything wrong. “My friends and I have been here quite a while, so we’re calling it a night.”

His attempts to make the girl leave weren’t working. She moved closer to him and placed a finger on his chest. “Do you need some company tonight? Cause I’d be happy to be that for you.”

Renji could feel his anger boiling some, his drunken state slowly leaving him. He raised his hand and showed his ring finger, his wedding band shining under the lights of the bar. “No thank you, I’ve got an amazing wife waiting for me at home.” He smirked as he let the next sentence come out without a care. “She’s all the company that I need. I’ll make sure to have my way with her when I get home.”

* * * * * *

Stumbling through the front door was something that Renji had been trying to avoid, but his attempts to stay quiet just made him even louder. As you heard the crashing in the kitchen you slowly climbed out of bed, grabbing Zabimaru on the way out of the room.

You spoke softly to the zanpukto, knowing that you would never hear back, but hoping that the spirits within would help keep you safe.

You turned the corner to the hallway and raised the

sword, ready to swing it down on the person that had come into you home when you heard a shrill scream come from your husband. “It’s just me! Don’t cut me!”

You stopped swinging the sword in an instant and placed it against the wall next to you. “Jesus christ, Renji. You sounded like someone was breaking into the house.”

He slowly walked toward you and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You could smell the alcohol on his breath as he spoke. “How drunk are you?”

Renji’s smile flashed, grinning from ear to ear as he placed his hands under your legs and pulled you from the floor bridal style. He nearly fell forward, but was able to catch himself. “I’m not as drunk as you think I am.”

You erupted with laughter and watched his face contort as you teased him. He pushed the bedroom door open with his foot and walked to the bed, dropping you down onto the mattress before jumping over you.

His lips pressed to yours, pecking you each time he spoke. “You’re lucky that you’re the love of my life.” He smiled against your lips. “I can forgive you this time.”

Renji slowly ran his hands over the silk of your nightgown, pulling it up slightly before tracing the tribal tattoos that ran down your back. “I’ll never forget the day that we got this matching set.”

It wasn’t like Renji to be this sappy, but you played along. “Neither will I. It was one of the first things that we did after the wedding.”

Renji’s eyes were soft as he rolled over onto his back and stared at you. “I still can’t believe that I got lucky enough to have a woman like you in my life.”

You rolled over and lifted a leg over his hips, straddling him and placing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I say the same about you every day Renji Abarai.”

His hands planted on your hips and he slowly slid you across his lap, the feeling of his length growing under the jeans that held them back making you whine slightly.

The friction of his bulge against the thin fabric of your panties had your loins aching for him. You leaned forward and placed your lips next to his ear. “Happy birthday, Renj.”

He continued to run yourself against him, getting him off more than you had thought it would. Renji dropped his head back into the pillows. Was the alcohol making him easy?

He wrapped his arms around you and flipped you onto your back. “I don’t think so, my naughty little devil. It’s my birthday, remember?”

His jeans couldn’t unbuckle fast enough and he fumbled around. As he finally pushed them down his legs his length stood ready for you. His erection rubbed against your folds as he tried desperately to find your entrance. Another whine escaped you as you pleaded with him. “I’m not even inside you yet and you’re already squirming.” He huffed and wrapped his hand in your hair. “Such a good girl for me.”

As he found his entrance he thrust into you, bottoming out inside of you. Grunts and moans filled the room as he pulled you into him, wanting to keep you as close to his body as he could.

Every roll of his hips hit just the right spots. The coil in your abdomen slowly tightened with every passing moment. Whether it was really Renji right now, or the alcohol flowing through his system, you had never felt more intimate with him.

Renji placed his lips next to your ear, his soft pants leaving warmth against your skin. “I love you so much.”

He hadn’t expected a reply. He knew that he had you in a spot where you weren’t able to speak. Your moans and weak instances of his name leaving you gave him his answer.

As he quickened his pace you felt the coil in your abdomen snap, crying out his name as you rode out your high. His strokes grew fewer and weaker as he tried his hardest to hold onto his release. But it was futile.

Renji did one last thrust and pulled himself into you, taking in every moment of closeness.

You placed your hands on his cheeks and placed a soft kiss to his lips. “Happy birthday Renji Abarai.”

Renji collapsed on the bed next to you and laughed slightly, his eyes slowly shutting with a smile on his face as sleep threatened to overtake him.

Taglist: @monic00l @strangeinternetwasteland @rowley-with-ackerman @chaoticsimptown @ellechanwrites @bonnisimpparker

[troubatrain]

better man - m. tkachuk

a/n: a repost from my old blog!

Matthew’s life was a mess. Well, you thought his life was a mess, he thought everything was just fine. You’d watch your friend, or mutual acquaintance if you were being honest, make poor decision after poor decision and you weren’t sure if you could take it anymore. When you’d first met Matthew, after Noah introduced the two of you at a team party, his antics were normal. He’d go out a little bit, but never the night before a game, and aside from the fact that he slept with every girl that walked into his life, things weren’t too bad. You bit your tongue about that one, knowing Matthew would just tease you for being jealous if you’d tried to say a thing about it. But, things were out of control now, it was the night before you knew the Flames had an afternoon game and Matthew was standing across from you at the bar, slamming back a shot with whoever his flavor of the week was.

“Just let it go, if he’s going to ruin his life, it’s not your place to stop him,” Your best friend, Madi, comments, “I’m serious Y/N.”

You watch the girl who’d been under Matthew’s arm slip away and head towards the bathroom, you turn to Madi, “This is the last time, I promise.”

While you didn’t actually consider Matthew your friend, mainly because you don’t think he thought much about you at all, you’d been in this position before. That time ended with Matthew hunched over you for an hour while you prayed to whatever higher power there was that he didn’t throw up in the back of an Uber. You walk over to the bar, a hand on his back while you leaned onto the bar next to him.

“What are you doing here?” Matthew asks, amused with running into you, “I thought you didn’t go places without your boyfriend who’s not your boyfriend.”

“Noah’s not my boyfriend,” You remind him, just like you always did when he accused you of liking Noah. In reality, Noah moved across the hall from you when he’d first got traded to Calgary, and while he’s moved out since, you were still close, “And you have a game tomorrow.”

“I know I do, I’m also a little busy right now,” Matthew smirks, a smug look on his face. His words were slurring together, and the bags under his eyes told you he hasn’t slept in days. Your heart broke, you didn’t understand why he was doing this to himself, the once lively sort of pain in the ass guy you’d met forever ago has turned into a shell of his old self.

“Matt, let me take you home,” You plead, your eyes boring into his, a pout present on your lips, “You need to be home.”

“I’m a grown ass man Y/N,” Matthew argues back, “I can do whatever, and whoever I want.”

“I will march into that bathroom and tell that girl that we’re dating and you’re a cheater, and then I’ll call Gio and tell him his winger is blacked out at a bar when he has an afternoon game tomorrow,” You threaten, hoping it’ll be enough to get him to go. Matthew’s eyes widen, “You wouldn’t call him.”

“I won’t if you go home,” You say, “I’ll pretend this never happened.”

Matthew sighs, closing his tab and calling himself an Uber. He slid off the barstool to head out, and his body hit the ground as soon as he stood up. You turn back to your friends, watching Madi shake her head at you, while you mouth that you were leaving to her.

“C’mon,” You say, grabbing his arm and tossing it over your shoulder. Matthew was a big body, and lugging him out of the bar was no easy feat, but you knew he was in better hands with you than anyone he’d been surrounding himself with lately. You get him into the Uber, sliding in next to him. You watch as the city passes you by, glancing over at Matthew to make sure you weren’t going to have a repeat of last time. His eyelids were starting to get heavy, and he leaned his head onto your shoulder.

“You’re too nice,” Matthew whispers, breaking the silence in the car, “Too nice.”

You smile to yourself, you knew you were too nice sometimes. You forgave too easily, and you definitely cared way too much about other people. But you couldn’t stand back while you watched Matthew continuously ruin his own life - it just wasn’t going to happen. The car finally halts in front of Matthew’s building, and you head inside with him. You were going to get him to bed, and you were going to slip down to Noah’s, who lived on the floor just underneath his, to crash in his guest room, that was the plan.

You’d never been in Matthew’s apartment before, but it certainly looked like a more barren version of Noah’s, despite the fact that Matthew lived in this building way longer. The furniture in it was the furniture that was staged in the apartment, and that you knew for a fact, and he was in desperate need of some curtains. You look around, not noticing one remnant of the fact that anyone actually lived here.

“I can get myself to bed,” Matthew huffs out behind you, finally slipping his shoe off, “Unless you want to join me.”

“I just wanted to be sure you were actually home,” You snark back, turning to look at him with an amused look on your face while he struggled to slip off his other shoe, “Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

“No mom, I got it,” Matthew chirps, tossing his shoes in the front of his door and stumbling into his bedroom. You heard a few drawers open and shut, followed by what you assumed was him brushing his teeth. You waited a few minutes, grabbing a water and some pain relievers to ease the hangover you knew he was going to have. You slip in, setting them on his nightstand.

“You should just stay here, it's late,” Matthew mutters into his pillow, causing you to jump.

You knew you should go down to stay with Noah, your key to his apartment was hanging on your keys as you stood there. But, you didn’t want to tell Noah what you just had to do, afraid it was going to become locker room talk that you were sure Matthew didn’t want to be a part of. He trusted you, at least enough to leave with the addition of your threat, and you couldn’t break that. So you nodded, stepping into Matthew’s guest room and opening the closet to pull out a pair of his shorts and a shirt - falling asleep almost immediately.

--

You woke up the next morning before the sun rose, slipping out of bed after your stomach started growling. You padded out of Matthew’s guest room, hoping he had some sort of groceries in his fridge. Your options were slim, but at least he had some eggs and a coffee maker. You get to work, pulling out a pan as quietly as you could, and brewing a pot of coffee for yourself. Your logical half of your brain screamed to just leave, slip out of his place before he woke up and you learned what kind of hungover monster he probably was, but you couldn’t help yourself. You just wanted to show him some kindness, hoping that could push him a better direction than the one he’d been flying full speed in.

“Are you making breakfast?” Matthew asks, causing your head to snap up from the eggs you’d been making. His curls were a mess, sticking out in all directions while he ran a hand through them as if that was going to help.

“I was hungry,” You admit, whispering because you were afraid to set him off, “I can go if you want-”

“No, stay,” Matthew waves you off, “I’m sorry I had like nothing in my fridge, I haven’t been the best about that.” You watch Matthew walk behind you, throwing open his fridge door and grabbing the orange juice from his fridge, smelling it to make sure it was still good, “I could teach you how to grocery shop you know.”

“I can handle myself Y/N,” Matthew rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and sitting on one of the stools in his kitchen, “Nice shirt by the way.”

You blush, looking down at the USA hockey shirt that hung on your frame. Matthew’s last name printed boldly on the back, you knew it was his, and it had been for a long time. It was soft and comfortable, and it looked like the coziest thing in his guest room closet the night before, “It was the only one in there.”

“I’m sure,” Matthew says, stealing a bite of the eggs you slid in front of him, “Oh these are good.”

“They’re eggs?” You say, confused as why he thought you made a gourmet meal out of the three ingredients he had in his entire apartment.

“I’ve used my stove once since I moved in here three seasons ago,” Matthew admits, shrugging and digging back into his food. You lean against the counter, putting your face in your hands. He was hopeless wasn’t he?

--

You bit your lip while you rode the elevator, skipping Noah’s floor and heading to the one right above it. You hoped he was home, prying the Flames current practice schedule out of Noah without him questioning it further. You walk up to Matthew’s door, knocking lightly. Hopefully he answered you, and hopefully he wasn’t doing anything too reckless this early in the day. Your mind starts to race, what if you were crossing a line?

“What are you doing here?” Matthew asks, confused as to why you were lost in your own thoughts in front of his apartment door, “Are you lost?”

“No, I just,” You start, trying to find words that sound better than Hey, I think your life is on a downward spiral and I think that I can stop you before things get too bad, “I’m going to teach you how to grocery shop.”

“I told you I can take care of myself,” Matthew reminds you.

“Is your fridge still as empty as it was the other day?” You ask, smirking when you saw his eyes shift. “Fine, I’ll go with you,” Matthew says, grabbing his hoodie that was hanging off his couch, stepping out and following you to your car, “I don’t know what kind of brownie points you’re getting for this, but it’s fucking annoying.”

You smile, you were still getting your way regardless of how annoyed Matthew was, “You came here willingly.”

“I was just hungry,” Matthew grumbles.

Grocery shopping with Matthew was an experience to say the least. He’d found a new way to pester you throughout the entire store. He complained about everything you told him to buy, reminding you that he didn’t even know how to cook. You responded quickly, telling him you could teach him easily. You weren’t a chef, but you had a few tricks up your sleeve that you were proud of. Matthew just teased you, telling you that you just wanted to spend more time with him. He poked your sides every time you tried to reach up and grab something, causing you to giggle while he gently nudged you out of the way to grab it himself. He called you mom in the store with every chance he got, the elderly couple across from you giving you an odd look as to why he was acting like a grumpy teenager. You were straight up exhausted by the time you were done, leaning against the counter in Matthew’s apartment while you watched him put away all of the groceries he’d bought against his will.

“So when are you going to teach me how to cook half this shit?” Matthew asks.

“I can show you now?” You ask, wondering if maybe he had plans that didn’t include for the evening. You saw him debate it internally for a moment, looking down at his phone and typing out a message before he nodded at you.

You started with something simple with him, salmon and some veggies, it was healthy and easy enough for him to cook on his own without you. Matthew was a little chaotic at first, unable to stand still while you tried to show him how to cut the lemon you were using to add to the Salmon. But you worked at it, calming him down enough to watch him searing the fish in his pan, his tongue sticking out of his mouth a little bit.

“Am I doing this right?” Matthew asks, and you peer over his shoulder, nodding when you inspect his work, “So, do you do this with Noah or am I your only project?”

“Noah knows how to cook for himself and stay in when he has to play the next day,” You remind Matthew, “So yes, you’re my only project.”

“Why aren’t you dating him? I mean you, spend enough time at his place and you’re always together,” Matthew pries, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. You didn’t actually spend all of your time with Noah, but Matthew only ever saw you when you were with him.

“He hooked up with my friend Madi,” You explain, the exact reason why Noah was a no go zone for you, “And then he stopped talking to her.”

It was true. When you’d been neighbors you introduced the two, hoping they’d end up together like you wanted. It worked out at first, noticing that they both had chemistry but then Noah didn’t call her after they hooked up and Madi was devastated over it. The pair had talked it out a few months ago, but that still didn’t mean you were going to date Noah like everyone assumed you were.

“Dick move,” Matthew mutters under his breath, “I mean I’m not better but-”

“I’d honestly prefer to never talk about it again,” You shake your head, tensing up at the thought of the year you had two of your favorite people at war with the other, “That’s done.”

“I can’t believe you’re domesticating me,” Matthew chirps, sitting across from you on his couch because he lacked a dining room table, “This is pretty damn good though, compliments to the chef.”

You roll your eyes at his smugness, “Some girl is going to be very lucky after I’m done with you.”

“So I am your new project?”

--

Phase two of Matthew’s transformation was that you were going to help him make it seem like someone actually lived in his apartment. You’d walked into his apartment with some plans, mostly a firm belief that it wouldn’t kill to own a throw pillow but you didn’t know what kind of monster you were actually dealing with. Apparently, Matthew’s time at home was spent watching an unhealthy amount of HGTV with his mother and he knew more about home decor than you initially thought. Shopping was actually fun, until you mentioned that you really thought he should get a dining table, reminding him of the empty space in his place that needed it, and now you were bickering in the middle of a furniture store.

“I don’t like have people over for dinner parties Y/N,” Matthew argues, his voice growing louder, and you could feel how tense the poor person who was showing you around the store was.

“What about when your parents are in town?” You ask, “I’m sure your mom would appreciate it.”

“In my experience, your girlfriend is probably right,” The man standing next to you squeaks out and you both turn to him at the same time.

“We’re not dating!” You both yell out in unison, reminding this man for the third time that there was nothing going on between the two of you.

“Just get the table,” You huff, tired of embarrassing yourself in public. You pout, mustering up your cutest face, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Matthew closes his eyes and throws his head back, “I’ll get the table.”

You clap silently to yourself, watching as Matthew scheduled a delivery for the table. You really didn’t think pouting would work, especially because Matthew can be exceptionally stubborn when he wanted to, but you were happy he did.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to buy that table,” Matthew says, leaning over to look at you while you drove back to his place, “Not cool to bring my mom into this, but you were right, she’s going to love it.”

“You’ve lived here for almost four years, your place needed some work,” You say, you wanted to tell he needed a home but you knew the teasing that ensue so you bit your tongue.

“You’re going to like, help me with this right?” Matthew asks, pointing to the things you’d bought in the back of his car, you nod. Silently making a mental note to cancel your dinner plans with Madi, you knew she was going to be mad, especially because your reason was because you thought you could guide Matthew into being a better person. But you wanted to spend time with him, because despite how much of a grouch he was, he wasn’t all bad.

--

Sometimes you thought Matthew was invincible. You thought nothing could hurt him, especially after sitting close enough to the glass and hearing just how hard he’d taken a hit. But it turns out, a bookshelf was going to be what took him down. It’d been hours since you got back to his apartment, and while you set out some of the other things you’d bought, Matthew insisted he could put together the bookshelf. You leaned against his couch, watching him struggle in the middle of the floor.

“Matthew let me just-” You try and interject, yet again, and offer your help.

“I can do it,” Matthew says, “I just keep losing pieces.”

Matthew’s demeanor was frantic, he had nails and pieces of the bookshelf scattered around him while he read the directions for the hundredth time. You squat next to him, placing your hand on his back and rubbing up and down. You can feel how tense his back was, and how he was calming down under your touch, “How about you order us some food, and I just finish this real quick?”

Matthew lets out a breath, “Why are you so much better than me at everything?”

“I don’t even know how to skate so,” You shrug, there was one thing he definitely had on you.

“I’d teach you, but you’ll find a way to outshine me and we can’t have that,” Matthew jokes, standing up to go get his phone from another room and call and order you food. By the time he came back, you had half the shelf built already. He rolls his eyes, jumping on his couch and picking a movie on Netflix - telling you that was the only other thing he was better than you at.

--

You sat in the stands with Madi at the Saddledome, cringing as you watched Matthew skate to the penalty box for the third time that evening.

“What the fuck is he doing out there?” Madi asks, “Collect your man Y/N.”

You were too confused to go into defense mode on how Matthew wasn’t yours. He wasn’t. But you spent all of your time together when he was in the city, so you knew he wasn’t someone else’s either. You shake your head, your eyes moving to the penalty while you watch Matthew break his stick against the boards. The Flames were down 4-0 and it just seemed like everything wasn’t going in their favor. With three penalties under his belt, and two of those goals scored against them on the power play you understood why he was so mad but you didn’t understand why he’d kept retaliating against whoever was trying to get under his skin.

When the third period ended, you felt your phone vibrate while you were heading back out to your car. A text from Matthew appearing on the screen.

Come over?

You hear Madi scoff behind you, “If you go you’re never going back and I promise you that.”

“We’re friends,” You argue back, a little annoyed with your best friend's constant disdain for anyone that went near you.

“He’s going to do to you what he's done to countless other girls,” Madi retorts back, “Just like Noah did to me, they’re all the same.”

You roll your eyes, “Then I’ll worry about it when he hurts me.”

You stomped over to your car, leaving Madi to go to hers alone. You take a deep breath, pulling out of the lot and into the direction of Matthew’s apartment. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes while you thought about Madi’s words. You weren’t anything more than friends with Matthew but if he walked out of your life today you weren’t sure if you could recover as quickly as you thought. You slip in Matthew’s building unnoticed, sitting outside of his apartment door and allowing yourself to have a quick cry before you heard the elevator ding, signifying that he was home.

“I’ve got to give a key,” Matthew grumbles, “My neighbors probably think you’re stalking- are you crying?”

“I’m fine,” You rush out, standing up and wiping your eyes, “It’s fine.”

Matthew sighs, his eyes going soft, “Come inside.”

Matthew’s hand landed on your lower back, guiding you into his place. You take notice that he’d moved a few of the things you scattered around his place, making them his own. You also took notice of the neatly folded laundry on his table, meaning he actually did his own laundry instead of taking everything to the cleaners. You watch Matthew stomp around his apartment, still in a mood from his game, and while you were upset you knew calming him down was the first thing you had to do.

“Matty,” You whisper, a nickname you’d taken a liking to, mostly because while he claimed he couldn’t stand it, he never stopped you from saying it, “What can I do?”

“I don’t know,” Matthew shrugs, leaning against his couch, “Usually I’d go out after a game that bad, but then I could hear your reprimand me in my head.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You suggest, a small smile at his confession, you were getting through to him.

“Do you want to talk about why you were sitting in my hallway crying?” Matthew says, raising his eyebrows at you.

“You first,” You push, hoping you could pry it out of him.

“I’d really rather not relive the fact that I’m the sole reason that we lost that badly tonight,” Matthew mutters, “I’m going to have to watch it all over again tomorrow anyways.”

“It’s a team sport,” You remind him, even though you were there, the Flames may have lost but you know it wouldn’t have been by a four goal deficit if he could stay out of the box, “It wasn’t-”

“You were there, and you’re a terrible liar,” Matthew interrupts, a look on his face that you told you to just admit it, it was his fault.

“I’m not going to pile onto the guilt you’re feeling,” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Fine, tell me what’s up with you then,” Matthew says, nodding at you, waiting for an explanation.

“I got into it with Madi, it’s fine,” You brush off, you really didn’t want to admit to Matthew that he was the reason you’d been getting into it with her a lot lately.

“You said no secrets the other day,” Matthew reminds you, opening his arms for you to step into him, “That goes both ways.”

“Let me keep this one,” You say, wrapping your arms around his waist, “Please.”

“Just this once.”

--

Matthew’s family were some of the loveliest people you’d ever met in your life, and it was honestly shocking to you that his parents raised such a pest. Especially now, watching Matthew move around his kitchen while you sat on his couch with his brother who was in town along with his parents and his sister. You’d declined his invitation for dinner at first, not really sure if there was a line that you were crossing having dinner with his family, the whole thing just felt so domestic to you.

“So did you just switch his brain with someone who’s nicer?” Brady asks, pressing you about what you did with this brother, “Or is it like a clone situation?”

“Brady leave her alone,” You hear Matthew call out from his kitchen, showing off to his parents the new cooking skills he’d acquired over the past month.

You laugh, taking a sip of your wine, whispering to Brady, “It was a brain switch.”

Brady nods, whispering back, “I knew it.”

Watching Matthew with his family definitely wasn’t helping the feelings you’d been harboring. You thought it was a small crush, that was probably because you spent most of your time with him, but it’d been snowballing into more as of late. You watched him talk to his sister and about his sister like she was the most important person in the world, and you think to him she probably is. You heard how soft his voice would go when his mother called out to him or how hard he laughed when his dad cracked a joke. This was the Matthew you knew was shoved under a million layers of angst.

“I can’t believe you actually taught him how to cook,” Chantal muses, smiling at you gently, “I’d never been able to stop him from making a mess, even when he was a kid.”

“Mom,” Matthew protests, trying to stop her from embarrassing him with stories from his childhood, “She doesn’t need to know how bad I was as a kid.”

“I think she can figure it out for herself,” Brady calls out, holding his hand for a high five to you. You slap your hand against his, laughing when you see Matthew pout next to you.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Matthew protests, “No loyalty around here.”

“I am on your side,” You remind him, your hand squeezing his thigh under the table. He smiles, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with his. The gesture was so small, but the electricity you felt through your body was unmatched. Matthew’s hand didn’t leave yours for the entire night - until he’d gotten so mad at Brady for “cheating” at the board game you’d all decided to play that he stomped away leaving you alone with his parents.

“Should we do something about that?” Brady asks, trying to read the room.

“Yes go apologize to your brother,” Keith sighs, as if this was something that happened often. You couldn’t be surprised, in a family that athletic there was no way that they weren’t a little competitive.

You watch Brady walk out of the room to go say he was sorry to Matthew and you feel Chantal’s hand on your arm.

“I know my son isn’t good with his own feelings,” She starts, her voice as warm and kind as it could be, “Just don’t give up on him.”

You smile, nodding, “I won’t.”

--

When Matthew woke you up on a Saturday morning with a heavy knock on your door, you were worried. You didn’t even know what he could have done in the ten hours since you’d last seen him but he didn’t always do the right thing - so naturally you panicked.

“Are you okay?” You ask, throwing your door open and forgetting the fact that you were still in the shorts and t-shirt you were sleeping in.

“Nice fit,” Matthew smirks, his eyes scanning up your body and you realized you’d been wearing the same shirt you stole from the first night you stayed over at his place, “I’m never getting that shirt back am I?”

“No it’s way too comfortable,” You say, because it was, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m teaching you how to skate,” Matthew smiles, proud of himself for the idea.

“I thought we couldn’t have me outshining you?” You ask, throwing his own words back at him.

“I want you to come to our Christmas skate but I don’t want you to embarrass yourself in front of that many other people,” Matthew shrugs, “Please?”

Matthew knew you couldn’t resist his stupid pouty face as much as he couldn’t resist yours. You were eachother greatest weakness and that’s just how it was. You nod, telling him you needed to change before you headed out to wherever he was going to take you.

You didn’t expect much, and when Matthew started to head in a direction opposite of any ice rinks you were severely confused. You pulled up to a park, a large pond that had frozen over ahead of you. You step out, watching Matthew pull two pairs of skates and hockey sticks out of his trunk.

“How did you-?” You start to ask how he even knew what size skate to get you.

“I asked Noah,” Matthew shrugs, “Apparently he knows more about you than you think.”

You laugh, the text that Noah sent you about Matthew being soft as hell making way more sense now than it did the other day. You follow Matthew to a bench, watching as he bent down to tie your skates for you, “You’re not going to let me get hurt right?”

The question was simple, but the glimmer in his eye when he told you nothing would happen to you told you that he meant more than just the skating. Your hands were in his while he skated backwards, pulling you around the ice.

“You know a month ago I probably would have let you fall on your ass,” Matthew comments when your skates started to slip underneath you, “But you’ve really turned me into a better person.”

“If only I could get you to stop getting into scrums,” You tease, even though you secretly loved to watch him defend his teammates the way he did. He always justified it to you after a game, telling you if he didn’t do it, someone would bully Johnny and he couldn’t let that happen. It was part of his game, and it was the way he liked to play.

“I told you,” Matthew says, dragging out his words, “I need to do it. Stay here.”

Matthew skated to the end of the pond, grabbing two sticks and two pairs of gloves for the both you, tossing them to you. You looked ridiculous, in hockey gloves that were four sizes too big and a stick that wasn’t cut to your height.

“Wait stay like that,” Matthew pulls out his phone, snapping a picture while you stood in the standard peewee hockey pose, laughing to himself while you assumed he sent it to Noah, but when you opened your phone you say a tag from Matthew’s instagram story and you knew he posted it for the world to see.

“Matty!” You call out, about to reprimand him for posting it while your phone continued to vibrate with follow requests.

“What? You look so cute right now,” Matthew says, while you started to charge at him, forgetting he hadn’t taught you how to stop yet. You skate right into his chest, unable to knock him on the ground like you’d intended, “Easy there killer, you don’t get to start fighting with people until you learn how to stop first.”

“You’re a bully,” You mutter, crossing your arms at him.

“You love it,” Matthew teases back, but in reality, you think you actually did.

--

Matthew didn’t owe you an explanation for anything he did, and you knew that. But with him gone on the East Coast for almost two weeks, you were grateful for his daily check ins and silly snapchats. It made you smile, to see he was in bed watching a movie instead of out partying like you knew his teammates were definitely doing. You were internally counting down the days until he’d back, trying to pull off a little surprise for him in the meantime.

You sat in his apartment, using the key he’d given to you before he left, with a bunch of empty picture frames you bought a few days ago, a package from St. Louis right to them. After you had dinner with his parents you’d talked to his mom once a week. Mostly for her to tell you thank you for forcing him to call her more often, but other times it was just to gossip.

But you’d asked a few weeks ago for some pictures to hang up around his place, realizing he didn’t have one picture of his family anywhere in his place. His mother sent over every family photo she had a copy of, slipping in a few photos of Matthew as a toddler that made your heart melt in a puddle. You smile pulling a photo of the Tkachuk siblings together, Matthew probably showing off the loss of his two front teeth. You learned from his father during that dinner, that Matthew didn’t actually lose his two front teeth, instead they were knocked out by his younger brother before they had the chance to fall out.

You set the last photo on the bookshelf that you put together, tilting it so it leaned against the others in a perfect way. You heard the knob of his front door turn, revealing a very sleepy Matthew in front of you.

“I thought I saw your car,” Matthew smiles, dropping his bag to the floor, “What are you doing here?”

“Notice anything different?” You ask, gesturing around his place, his head turns to scan the room, a growing smile on his face. The kind of smile where his dimples were on full display, one you noticed he reserved for his family and for you.

“How did you get these?” Matthew says, picking up a picture that you picked out of him and his siblings at one of his father’s All Star games.

“I asked your mom for them,” You shrug.

“How often do you talk to my mom?” Matthew asks.

“Once, twice a week,” You mutter out, like your calls with his mother had been your little secret.

Matthew laughs to himself, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite make out, “Thank you.”

“I’m confident you’d do the same for me,” You say, because at this point you were sure he was at least 50% less selfish than he used to be.

“I’d do anything for you,” Matthew says, looking over at you to gauge your reaction. Chantal’s words about how terrible her son was with his own emotions running through your head.

“Hey Matty,” You say, trying to get his attention while he walked away to change out of the suit he’d been wearing on the plane, “You said no secrets right?”

“I believe that was our agreement,” Matthew smiles, turning around to look at you.

“I love you,” You say, you couldn’t take it anymore, you just needed to let it out. Matthew stood there, his eyes moving to everything in the room besides you, for the first time in his life, he was silent, “Oh my god this is embar-”

Matthew took three long steps over to you, placing both of his hands on your cheeks before he took a deep breath, “I needed you to say it first.”

You smile, connecting your lips with his,

“You’re going to say it back right?”

And in his apartment that you’d turned into a home, Matthew stood in his living room, pecking your lips while he repeated the three sweetest words to you.

“I love you”