#this is vomited in one go and not really edited

[foulbearobservation]

it's paste where he shouldn't be o'clock. sir you had to parkour to the top of the fridge and then across all my cabinets to get there. why.

[gachaparadise]

ahhh the Penacony leaks are really coming in now.

*chuckles* I'm in danger.

[pearl-kite]

actually maybe I do need to journal a little bit, some existential dread just came and obliterated me out of left field

[lordsardine]

.

[rowarn]

PLEASE, LOVE ME. PT2

simon riley / reader

FIND PART ONE || read the full thing on ao3

tags: childhood friends, friends2lovers, virgin!reader, soft!simon, protective!simon, afab!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, MDNI

cw: reader is over 20, pining, masturbation (reader), loss of virginity, explicit workplace sexual harassment/assault, so much crying, one-sided love, not-really-unrequited love, vomiting, panic attacks, depression, crying, sex related shame, PTSD (reader), codependency but cute, self-deprecating thoughts, slut shaming, wet dream, dry humping, simon fucks up tho, reference to suicide & suicidal ideation, really nasty argument, reader hits simon sorry, apologizes tho!!!, reader struggles to orgasm, drinking, fooling around while drunk (no sex), breast play, fingering, orgasm denial, simon's a tease, p-in-v, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, creampie, mating press, missionary, simon's dirty mouth, dirty talk, wet&messy, big cock, uncut simon bc i said so, reassurance & encouragement, some pain upon penetration, clit spanking, post-coital crying!!!!!!, aftercare, briefly edited so apologies for any lingering mistakes

note: this is part two and contains the gratuitous smut portion ur all looking forward to <3

you've loved him since you were children. after a confession when you were 14 went rejected, you vowed to never let your feelings be known again. but after an incident that left you hurt and fragile, you find it hard to keep that promise.

PART 2: 17.9k total: 35.8k

Things seem to get much better between you. Your anger and resentment towards Simon diminishes significantly and you can finally say you feel comfortable around him again. You wouldn’t say you’ve forgotten everything that happened, you fear that the entire ordeal has left its scar on you. 

But you finally feel ready to truly begin to work on yourself and get to a better place mentally. 

You’re humming to yourself as you dust the surfaces in your living room, cringing in disgust when you see how dusty a particular shelf was. 

Just as you go to give it another swipe, your front door opens and Simon stumbles in, huffing from effort as he carries two armfuls of groceries. 

“Simon!” you cry out, watching with wide eyes from the stepstool you stood on as he ungracefully dropped them on the floor, “Why did you bring them all up here like that?”

“Didn’t wanna make another trip,” he explained lamely, flexing his hands as he looked over all the bags.

“Okay, I guess,” you chuckle softly. 

Simon finally looks up at you, “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” you shrug, waving the duster at him, “I haven’t felt like doing it until now so might as well get it done when I feel like it!”

He’s quiet for a moment before he steps over the bags of groceries.His boots thunk heavily on the floor as he approaches you. Suddenly, he wraps an arm around your middle. You squeak in surprise when he very carefully and gently pulls you off of the stool and places you back onto your feet. 

Then he walks away like nothing happened, snatching up a couple groceries up from the floor to take to the kitchen. 

You decide not to comment on his behavior and simply choose to grab a couple of bags and help him out. When you get inside the kitchen, he’s already stuffing things into the refrigerator. You place the bags down and go back to pick some more up, transferring all the bags of groceries near him so he can easily put them away. 

You notice one of the bags has some piping, lightbulbs, wires, and other things you can’t identify. 

“What’s all this?” you ask, holding the bag out to him when he turns to look.

He grunts, closing the fridge, “Gonna fix some shit around here.”

“Why?” you ask, scrunching your nose up as you place the bag on the counter.

“Shithole needs it,” he mumbles, moving to start opening the cabinets, “Since you refuse to let me move you out of this place, I’m gonna make sure it at least functions.”

You hum and nod your head. Simon had attempted to convince you to move out and into an apartment of his own choosing but you flat out refused. He was already paying the rent on this place, you weren’t going to let him spend more money for a different place – because you know Simon would choose somewhere that would cost a lot more than your current flat. 

But you couldn’t deny, the idea of Simon doing a little manual labor around the apartment made your heart flutter in your chest. The way he took care of you and was willing to get his hands dirty just to make sure you were comfortable. The little domestic tasks you could imagine him doing. 

It almost felt like something a husband would do. 

You felt your cheeks flush immediately at the train of thought. How embarrassing and juvenile to think something like that

“I can cook dinner!” you mumble after clearing your throat. 

Simon actually has the audacity to laugh. You frown as he shakes his head, closing the cabinet before turning to you. 

“Absolutely not,” he says.

Your jaw drops, “Why?!”

“Because,” he steps closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before breezing past you, “You’re a terrible cook, love.”

You open your mouth to retort but can only huff. Because he’s right. The last time you tried to make dinner for the two of you, you had confused cayenne with cinnamon and made the most diabolical stew known to man. He vowed to never let you cook anything that required more than boiling water since. 

You pout your way back to the living room, mumbling a petulant, “Fine…” as you went.

You didn’t catch the broad grin on Simon’s face as he watched you sulk away. He was just happy to see your vibrance returning before his very eyes.

True to his word, however, he began to do some random odd jobs around the apartment. He changed that damn leaky faucet in the kitchen first. He would never admit it but it was beginning to drive him completely mad. He swore he could hear it dripping into the metal sink basin in his dreams.

Then he fixed the piping in the bathroom so they would stop all that god-awful clanking that practically woke up the entire complex. But after that, he figured he might as well fix the piping under the sinks as well.

That’s when you saw him. On his back, big body sprawled out as he worked underneath the cabinet, wrench in hand and soft grunts of effort coming from him. His t-shirt rose up just a bit, exposing a small stretch of tummy and his happy trail. Every once in a while, you could see his muscles flex and it made your mouth go completely dry. 

You felt like a Victorian man seeing his first ankle on a woman. Ridiculous. 

Sure, you’d seen Simon shirtless countless times – hell, you walked in on him completely naked once or twice. But there was something particularly…delicious about him like this. Unaware, casual, just doing work. 

It made a swell of heat settle in your abdomen. You squeezed your thighs together as you watched him. His biceps flexed and bulged, making the sleeve of his t-shirt grow taut around his skin. His muscles moved underneath the tattoos inked into his skin. 

You dragged your eyes down his body, past his pecs, past the sliver of tummy. You imagined yourself crawling between those thick thighs and unbuckling his belt, tugging at the button of his jeans. You imagined getting to see his cock chub up inside his boxers before you would pull it out and wrap your lips around the leaking tip. 

Salty, you imagine. You’ve always heard that men’s cum and pre-cum would be salty. Would Simon’s taste as bad as some of your friends had told you back in highschool? You hoped not. You couldn’t imagine not enjoying every part of him – even his cum.

You wanted him to shoot in your mouth, let you taste it. You wanted to milk it out of him, give him no choice but to cum down your throat.

“Are you just going to stand there or do you need something?” his voice startled you out of your thoughts.

Wide eyed, you looked to meet his gaze but you found he wasn’t even looking at you, still staring at the piped overhead.

“Um,” you cleared your throat, floundering for an excuse as to why you were ogling him like a piece of meat, “I didn’t want to interrupt you. I-I was just wanting to make sure the shower was okay to use?”

He grunts, letting out a soft sigh  before pushing himself out from under the sink, closing the cabinet before wiping his brow with the back of his hand, “Yeah, go ahead and shower, love.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile, casting one last glance to see that his t-shirt had fallen back into place. Disappointing. 

You trudge out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. Softly, you close the door and turn on the shower. The pipes don’t clang when the water shoots through them. It brings a smile to your face.

Once you’re stripped and standing under the warm spray, you let your hands wander your body. First, you cup your breasts, watching your nipples harden under your own touch before you slide one hand between your thighs. There’s a slickness between your folds that's distinctly different from the water, it’s slippery and sticky. But it makes your touch against your clit easy. 

You bite your lips to keep quiet, scared to death that Simon could hear you from under the sound of the water. You make quick, tight little circles against your clit. The bud is hard and twitches under your fingers. It makes the breath stutter out of your chest. 

You need more room, you realize, hiking your foot up onto a shelf. It spreads you open just a little more, gives you a little more access for your fingers to play. You sigh, head tipping forward to watch as you circle your own clit. 

But the more you touch yourself, the faster that tingling, warm sensation dissipates. You huff through your clenched teeth, frustrated. 

Usually, you could at least feel the beginning of that peak forming but this time…not even close. So you shamefully close your legs and go about your shower as if nothing happened, taking care to wash the slick from between your thighs especially.

As you lay in bed that night, Simon breathing deeply beside you as he slept, you were lost in thought. 

Surely, you were in the wrong for thinking about Simon like that – for getting wet at the sight of him. And then sleeping soundly next to him as if you weren’t some kind of pervert. Maybe you should just confess and apologize to him. 

No. You quickly admonish that thought, glancing over at his prone form. You couldn’t bear to see him be disgusted by you. He’d already rejected you years ago, finalized it and put the nail in the coffin so you would never be dumb enough to do it again. 

What would he do if he found out about your…attraction to him? He practically lived with you now, after everything happened. He was in your flat more than he was on base now. It was only a matter of time before he caught you with your hands dancing in your pants. 

Your cheeks flushed at the idea. Part of you thought it hot – for him to find you needy like that, desperately playing with your clit as you try to make yourself cum. 

But on the other hand, you could see the wrinkle of disgust in his brow and sneer on his face as he walked away. That outcome was not worth it, you decided. 

With a sigh, you rolled over so your back faced Simon and closed your eyes for the night. 

You both should have known better that the fragile peacefulness between the two of you was just that – fragile, balancing on a delicate precipice that could shatter at any moment. 

The ring of his phone was the break. 

“Answer that for me, love!” he called from the kitchen where he was busy preparing dinner. 

You leaned forward to check the number. It wasn’t in his contacts but Simon never got calls from people unless he knew them. So you slowly slid the button over and accepted the call. 

“Hello?” you mumbled into the phone.

There was a beat of silence before a woman’s voice responded in kind, “Hello?”

“Um…” you swallowed down the apprehension that settled in your chest, casting a glance towards Simon’s back as he stood over the stove, “Who may I ask is calling?”

“I’m looking for Simon,” she said, sounding much more coy than a second ago. She knew his real name and that irked you. People from work always referred to him as Ghost, only those he considered trustworthy or friends were privy to calling him Simon. 

“Um, he’s busy at the moment, can I take a message?” you ask, loud enough for Simon to hear in the kitchen if he was interested in intervening. But he didn’t move. 

“Sure!” she giggled, “Tell him that Victoria really wants to see him again and to call me so we can!”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, “Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll let him know…”

“Thank you,” she cooed in a sultry tone, “Oh! And tell him I really had a great time last time we were together and that I’m looking forward to a repeat performance.”

“Yeah. I’ll do that,” you assured, hoping you didn’t sound as tense as you felt. 

She giggled before the call disconnected and you were left glaring at his stupid stock phone wallpaper.

“Who was it?” Simon comes to the archway of the kitchen, leaning against the wall. You can’t hear anything cooking anymore so you assume he’s finished dinner.

“Victoria,” you spit the name out like it’s poisonous, “Says she wants to see you again and she had a fantastic time with you last time.”

Simon shifts where he stands, looking down at his feet before looking back up to you, “Alright. I’ll call her back later.”

That sends knives straight through your heart. It aches so badly that you want to bite your own tongue off to make it stop. 

Jealousy, you realize. You’re fucking jealous. Some girl calls and asks for his dick and he just says okay? 

He’s not yours, you tell yourself. He can fuck whoever he wants. 

But that does nothing to quell the inferno raging inside you. 

There’s other feelings brewing inside you; rejection, fear, loss.

You feel bitter that you’re right there and he would still never choose you. He’ll always choose someone else because he doesn’t see you like that. It feels like he’s throwing it in your face, just spitting at you to show you that he doesn’t love you like you love him. He never has and he never will. You’ll never be an option to him because he doesn’t want you.

Then you’re scared he’s going to leave you. He’s going to go to this Victoria chick and leave you all alone so he can get his dick wet again. Just like last time. Maybe he’ll like it so much he wants to stay with her. Maybe he’s going to leave you behind so he can start a new, happy life without having to worry about the dead weight that’s been dragging him down since he was 8. You. His responsibility. His problem. 

You’re so scared that he’s going to be ripped from your grasp. That you’re going to lose him to someone else and it’s going to be you and your pathetic one-sided love for the rest of your life. Fuck, you’ve loved him since you were 4. You’ve loved him for so long that it makes you nauseous to think about. How many people loved one person for this long? 

Please, you wanted to cry to him, please love me. 

Please, just love me back.

“So you’re gonna go then?’ you finally find your voice, bitterness and resentment thick in your tone, “You’re gonna leave me to go to a booty call again?”

He stands up straight at that. Arms cross over his chest, he watches that way you glare at him, heated and teary-eyed. Hurt. 

He knew you still weren’t over the way he left you that time – when you needed him the most. You’d been ignoring the residual hurt that lingered, intent on pretending that everything was fine. He had been doing his best to make up for it but it always felt like one step forward and two steps back with you. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures softly, “I’ll call her back to tell her that it won’t happen.”

He tries his best to remain level-headed and soft, to be reassuring like he knows you need. But your expression doesn’t change. You continue to glare at him with that furious, hurt look in your eyes. 

Suddenly, you stand. 

“I don’t believe you,” you hiss, turning your back to him, storming down the hallway. 

He almost winces when he hears how hard you slam the bedroom door. He thinks about going back there to talk to you but decides against it. You need some space to calm yourself down. 

He eats the dinner he made for both of you alone, putting your half in the fridge for later. He goes about the apartment, locking the door and turning out all the lights. Then he gets to the bedroom door and goes to turn the knob and it doesn’t budge. 

Despite himself, he laughs. He jiggles the knob, jerks the door a little harder like it’ll open with a bit of force. And it might, it’s a flimsy ass door if he’s being honest – he’s forced bigger and heavier doors open before. 

He snaps your name, humor gone from his voice. You don’t answer. 

“Open the damn door,” he snaps, trying the knob again. He gets silence in return so he slams his fist against the surface. The sound is loud enough that it makes his own ears ring, “I said open the door. I’m not playin’ this game with you, sweetheart.”

“Sleep on the couch, Simon!” he hears your wobbly voice call back. Of course you’re in there crying, he thinks.

“I’m not sleepin’ on the fuckin’ couch,” he hisses, leaning his forearm against the door, resting his head against it with a sigh, “Open the door and let’s talk.”

“Don’t wanna talk to you,” you whine, bratty as all hell. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so damn pissed, “Why don’t you go sleep with Victoria since you like her so much.”

You don’t know why you say that last part. You don’t want him to go to her, you don’t want him to go anywhere. The thought of it brings more tears to your eyes. 

Simon is silent on the other side of the door for a long while. You almost think he walked away and succumbed to the couch. You wouldn’t actually let him sleep on that awful thing, of course. You just…you don’t know what the end goal here is, if you’re honest.

“Fine,” he finally spits, “If that’s what you want, I’ll fuck off and find Victoria.”

You hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he walks away. You sit up straight in bed at that, eyes wide as you listen to him stalk through the house. You swear you hear the jingle of his keys and that’s what has you lurching out of bed in a panic.

You almost trip over the sheets as they tangle around your legs but you manage to free yourself and wrench the door open.

“Simon!” you practically shriek, rounding the corner of the hallway to find him standing with his back to you, facing the door.

He’s got his hoodie and mask on, boots firmly on his feet and keys in hand. He stands still, back straight as his shoulders rise and fall with his breathing. But he waits.

“Don’t go,” you find yourself whimpering, “‘M sorry. Come to bed, okay?”

He doesn’t move and that makes your heart pound in your chest. You know he’s pissed, can see it in the way his fists stay clenched at his sides. His fingers twitch and he makes a move for the doorknob and you surge forward, wrapping yourself around his other arm, yanking him away from the door as hard as you can. 

He lets your weight knock him off balance, lets you drag him away from the door. He lets you tug him down the hallway, sniffling and crying as you do. 

“J-Just…” you find yourself frantically tugging his mask off, tossing it away before you rip the hem of his hoodie up. He doesn’t help you or fight you as you try to take it off of him. He just stares blankly at you, like he’s assessing you. You hate it. “G-Get ready for bed, okay? Just…we can go to sleep.”

“Why do you make this so fuckin’ hard for me?” he finally breaks his silence, the question cold and calculating. Like he’s tired. Exhausted, “I keep tryin’ to make it up to you. But every time something goes wrong, you throw everything back in my face and you act like you hate me again. I can’t keep…” he trails off, shaking his head before he sits at the foot of the bed, hands clasped together and head hanging between his shoulders.

“I love you,” you blurt out, a sob breaking out of your lips as you do. Simon doesn’t move. Your hands cover your eyes, as if being blind to his reaction will make the rejection hurt less, “I love you and i-it just keeps messing me up inside. I’m sorry.”

“You love me?” he asks, still no emotion in his voice. 

When you peek at him, he’s in the same position as before, hands clasped, elbows on his knees, head bowed. You have no idea what expression he’s wearing and you’re scared to find out.

“Yes,” you hiccup, sniffling softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asks softly, almost solemnly.

“I promised,” you cry, another choked sob escaping you. 

“Promised..?” he doesn’t sound cold anymore, just confused, “The fuck’re you talkin’ about?”

“W-When I was 14,” you whimper, shame filling you as you recall your now-broken promise, “I-I told you I liked you and you said you didn’t feel the same. You told me to never bring it up again and I promised I wouldn’t. B-But…” you sobbed again, stopping yourself from finishing the sentence.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he breathes, bringing his hands to his face, scrubbing them up and down vigorously in a way that looks like it hurts. Then he laughs. 

He fucking laughs. 

It’s like your worst fears come to light. He’s laughing at you, at your confession. At your feelings. A fresh wave of tears fill your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You bite your lips to keep from making your sobs audible anymore. You didn’t want him to laugh at that too. You hang your head, wringing your hands together behind your back anxiously as Simon quiets down. 

“Shit,” he breathes, getting to his feet. He stands before you, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He frowns when he sees the utter despair on your face, the heartbreak in your eyes, “No, baby. No, no. I wasn’t laughin’ at you.”

Baby. You catch onto it. He’s never called you that before. 

You dash the spark of hope that it causes. 

He rubs his thumbs under your eyes, wiping the tears away. 

Then, he leans forward and slots his lips against yours. 

It’s like fireworks explode in your chest. Your heart races so fast that you feel lightheaded. You can’t even respond to the kiss in time before he pulls away, your mind is moving too fast for you to process any meaningful thought. But he kissed you. 

Simon kissed you.

“What?” you finally manage to whisper, looking up with wide, shocked eyes, “Why did you..?”

He looks confused for a second, still cupping your cheeks as he looks into your watery eyes, “You really have no idea?” Your brows furrow immediately and you shake your head, “How I feel about you?”

“You feel..?” you dumbly repeat. 

He smiles softly, thumb rubbing softly over your cheekbone, “You really think I don’t feel the same?”

“B-But when…when we were kids I…” you stumble over your words, the truth you’ve believed this entire time seemingly false, “You s-said you didn’t feel the same.”

“Jesus, love,” he huffs softly in disbelief, “You were fourteen. I was seventeen. You were way too fuckin’ young for me, it wouldn’t have been right.”

“B-But then…” you stutter, reaching up to wipe your cheek, “When did you..?”

He shrugs, “Not sure exactly. Suppose sometime after you turned 20 was when I realized I felt somethin’ for you.”

“So you really…” you whisper, snagging your hands into his hoodie to pull him close, “You really…I mean…”

“Love you?” he smiles softly, “Of course I do.”

You lean forward and press your lips to his. He hums, wrapping one strong arm around your middle to pull you even closer. His lips work magically over yours, taking control of the kiss with ease. You easily melt into it, following his lead. It’s not as easy as you thought it would be and you hope Simon doesn’t notice. 

But he does, of course he does. 

He pulls away and smooths the palm of his hand down your cheek before it comes to rest on your jaw. His thumb slides over your bottom lip and he hums.

“You ever kissed before?” he asks, voice calm and level with no teasing to it at all.

Still, heat explodes all over your face. Embarrassment overrides the euphoria of your requited feelings. You try to pull away but Simon’s much stronger and he won’t let go unless he wants to. 

“Hey, don’t run,” he coos softly, turning your face to look back up at him, “I was just askin’.”

“No,” you mumble, still burning with embarrassment, “I-I’ve only ever liked you so…”

“Fuckin’ hell…” he whispers, letting you step back just a bit so he can look over you, “Is that right?”

“You should know that,” you mumble, feeling small under his scrutiny, “You know everything about me.”

“Didn’t think datin’ history was somethin’ you felt like sharin’,” he shrugged off.

“Well, now you know,” you mutter, your gaze glued to the floor.

“That I do,” he hums in agreement, reaching out to brush a hand down the length of your arm. 

A soft, quietness falls over the two of you. You’re not sure what to do and it seems he’s content where he is. He’s watching you, tracking every little shift and fidget you make until he finally seems to take pity on you.

“Let’s get to bed,” he says softly, giving you a soft nudge towards the bed. 

You take the opportunity to dive into bed, yanking the blanket over you as Simon strips himself out of his boots and hoodie. You go to look away as he yanks his belt free with practiced hands but you can’t seem to. He slips the belt out of the loops and drops it on the dresser before unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of him in a tight pair of navy boxer-briefs slung low on his hips. You can make out the shape of his–

“Enjoyin’ the view?” he mumbles half-heartedly as he turns to root through the dresser to find some sweatpants. 

“Sorry…” you mutter shamefully at being caught. 

He chuckles under his breath, pulling the sweats on before he rounds to his side of the bed and drops onto the mattress, “Nothin’ to be sorry about.”

He leans over you and turns out the tableside lamp. Then he settles into his pillow with a soft sigh.

“Si..?” you whisper.

“Yeah?” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Are we um…” you clear your throat, “I mean like…are we…together now..?”

You feel him roll over and toss his arms around you. You squeak when he tugs you towards him roughly, securing you against his chest before he kisses the top of your head.

“Do you want to be together?” he asks, muffled by his lips pressed against you. 

“Yes,” you whisper quickly, wrapping yourself around him almost possessively.

He tilts your head up and carefully slots his mouth over yours again. You sigh happily at the feeling. 

You notice that he keeps it a lot slower than he had before, moving his lips carefully against yours. Like he’s trying to make it easier for you to keep up. It makes your cheeks flush again but you sink into the pillow and let him kiss all he wants as you do your best to match his movements. 

His body shifts, torso hovering over you as he rests his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. Your hands rest against his shoulders and simply get lost in the kiss. 

After a moment, he deepens the kiss, sinking into you with his chest pressed against yours. You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck, carding your fingers through his cropped hair. 

One of his hands moves, coming to grip your waist, fingers sliding up the hem of your shirt. It’s like a dream come true. Literally. 

All those nights you spent with your hand between your thighs, thinking of him. Thinking of him touching you like this – with his hand sliding your shirt up a little further every second. You even feel that familiar wetness soaking your panties.

Then why was your heart racing from anxiety instead of excitement? Why did you feel a fearful tremble setting in your thighs, as if your knees would be knocking together if you were standing. Why were you scared?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re shoving your hands against his chest with a weak, “No!”

Simon is off of you in seconds but you can feel his gaze on you in the darkness. You struggle to catch your breath as you lay there, heart pounding in your ears. Your head hurts, you realize with a wince.

“Um…” you find yourself attempting to appease him, “I-I don’t…I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s alright,” he whispers sincerely, settling down into bed with a content hum, “Nothin’ to worry about, love.”

You scoot closer to him and hesitantly place your head on his chest. Simon’s arm wraps around your back and tucks you even more snug against him. You close your eyes and will yourself to relax and sleep as you feel Simon’s comforting hand rubbing your back. 

Neither of you talk about it in the morning. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. You don’t bring it up, even though you want to, and Simon doesn’t try touching you like that again. Part of you wants him to, you’ve been dreaming about his touch for years but once you finally get it, you freak out?

You can’t stop beating yourself up over it. 

But then you think about the anxiety that it had caused. The apprehension. How uncomfortable it felt – how you wanted his hands off of you. 

You sighed, flopping onto your side on the couch where you sat. Your mind was buzzing annoyingly from your thoughts. 

Regardless of your problems, you were happier than ever with him. He was finally yours. Wholly and truly yours. It was bliss. 

“Got a call,” Simon says, snapping you out of your daze, “Gotta leave.”

That makes you sit up, “Leave?”

You finally notice that he’s got his bag packed – the one he only takes when he’s getting deployed. You’re on your feet in seconds, following him to the door. He���s wearing his skull balaclava so all you can see are his eyes – sad, apologetic.

“H-How long?” you ask, unable to ignore the ache in your chest as you watch him.

“Few weeks, probably,” he mutters, placing the bag down so he can tuck his feet into his boots.

He straightens up with a grunt before turning to you. He sighs, gloved hands cupping your cheeks when he sees how sad you look – like a kicked puppy. You wish you could feel his bare hands on you but can’t find it in you to ask. 

“I don’t want you to go,” you find yourself mumbling.

It’s selfish and even a bit cruel of you to voice that desire. Simon’s thumb strokes your cheek in that sweet way he always does and you melt into him. He lets you thump your head against his chest as you suppress your cries, biting your lip so you can keep your tears at bay. 

“I know,” he softly whispers, stroking your back as you cling to him, “I know, but I have to.”

“I know,” you mumble, finally looking up at him. You know your eyes are glassy and you make sure to blink back the tears so they never overflow, “Just be safe and come home, okay?”

He lifts his mask up just enough to expose his lips before he leans down to kiss you. It’s a whole body experience this time. He clutches you against him like his life depends on it, gloved hands fiercely gripping the back of your t-shirt. His lips move smoothly against yours, hand coming up to cup your jaw so he can tilt your head and pull you even deeper into his kiss. He pulls away when he needs to breathe, smiling when he sees the dazed, lovesick expression on your face. He tugs his mask down and lets you go but you stay as close to him as possible. 

“Make sure you stay warm,” he coos, “Gonna start gettin’ real cold in a couple days.”

“I will, Si,” you assure him.

“Left some cash for you to do your shoppin’,” he adds, “I know you’re a shit cook but I left a list of some easy recipes. Don’t burn the flat down.”

You snort and playfully smack his shoulder, “I’ll just buy some cup noodles in that case.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching your side to make you gasp from the ticklish feeling, “Don’t even think about it.”

Your grin falters when his phone makes that obnoxious beeping noise that lets you know it’s something urgent. He sighs, the tranquil happiness between you two broken immediately. He kisses your forehead through his mask and pulls the front door open.

“Keep this locked,” he mutters, stepping past the threshold, “I’ll be home soon.”

He closes the door and you’re left with an emptiness that overcomes you. You’ve always been scared for him when he has to go off on missions – you know that his job is extremely dangerous and he could lose his life at any moment. That thought alone makes a nauseous pit settle in your stomach. You push down the feeling of bile rising in the back of your throat and click the lock on the door with a sigh before you go about your day, trying your best to keep your mind off of him and where he might be in the world. 

True to his word, however, the temperature drops bitterly cold within 2 days after he leaves. There had already been a chill in the air that drove you to turn the heating on just a bit but now it was full blast. But now, it was dipping to freezing and you were anticipating the arrival of snow soon enough as well. 

You wake up one morning, however, and your apartment is bitterly cold. You sit up, confused before climbing out of bed. Your feet are immediately freezing as you step onto the floor. You hiss, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stumble over to the radiator in your room. You touch it and find absolutely no heat emanating from it. 

All the radiators are the same. Absolutely no heat. 

You curse, realizing you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. You curl up on the couch under a heavy throw blanket as you type with bitterly cold fingers into Google, looking for anything that can help you. But it’s to no avail. You can’t understand a thing. 

Your next thought is to call the building manager but you know that’s pointless. The useless man never actually helps with any work for his tenants. 

There’s no way in hell that you can afford to call someone to come and fix the problem. You have money for groceries but if you spent that you wouldn’t have anything to eat. You sigh, resolving yourself to bundling up and trying to stay as warm as you can. 

You pile all the blankets you have into bed and pick out only your thickest, warmest sweaters. 

This is going to be miserable, you think. 

The snow comes just a short week later and it feels even colder. You venture out of your flat to go to the grocery store, picking up ingredients for the dishes Simon wrote down for you and also some cans of soup that you can cook to stay warm. You also throw some boxes of tea and some hot chocolate in with it, figuring why not. Warm drinks will help. 

It’s almost 3 weeks of living like that. It’s miserable and makes your bones ache from how stiff the cold makes you feel. You make sure to eat nice, hot food to keep yourself warm and make frequent cups of warm drinks so you can keep your hands warm for as long as you can. You do your best. 

The worst is showers, though. When you’re standing under the blisteringly hot spray, it’s bliss. But the second you step out and your wet body is hit with the freezing air, you couldn’t have felt more miserable. 

The night Simon walks through the door, he finds you bundled up on the couch sipping a cup of hot chocolate. 

“Simon!” you gasp excitedly, tossing the blankets off to take a running leap at him. 

He huffs contentedly when he catches you in his arms, letting you embrace him for as long as you need. He strips his mask off and brings you in for a delicate kiss.

“Let me wash up,” he mumbles, stalking through the apartment.

“Um, before you do, Si,” you catch him at the entrance to the hallway. He turns to you and looks at you with a brow raised, “The um…heating is broken so…just letting you know when you come out of the shower it’s gonna suck.”

“Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before,” he mutters and pauses, “The fuck you mean it’s broken?”

“Heating cut off a few weeks ago…” you shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself as you start to feel the cold creep in again.

“A few weeks ago?” he hisses, running a stressed hand through his hair, “Fuckin’ hell. You didn’t call someone to fix it?”

You pout as he raises his voice, clearly frustrated, “I couldn’t afford it, Si! I had the money you gave me for food but I wasn’t gonna spend that to get the heating fixed. You know the building manager is a piece of shit, not like he was gonna call someone.”

He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, seemingly thinking something over. Then he turns on his heel and storms into the bathroom, slamming the door.

“I’m sorry, Simon!” you call through the door, “I didn’t know what else to do! Please, don’t be mad.”

The shower turns on and all you can do is look up and sigh in exasperation. The second he’s home and he’s already pissed at you. 

You sulk over to the couch and flop down, tossing your blankets over you as you grab your mug. The hot chocolate is still warm but not as hot as it was. It’ll have to do.

Simon comes out of the shower, gets dressed warmly, and joins you in the living room. He doesn’t even look at you as he makes a move for his bag that he left by the door. You almost think he’s going to scoop the bag up and storm out the door. You sit up, ready to stop him but instead, he stoops down and zips it open. He pulls out his wallet and approaches you. 

“What are you doing?” you mumble, watching him flip the thing open.

It’s old and worn, a simple black leather wallet. He’s had it for as long as you could remember and you’ve put the poor thing through the washer and dryer so many times that you’re shocked it's still intact. 

He pulls out a bank card and promptly hands it to you. Your brain stutters to a stop as you look at it.

“Take it, fuck sake,” he mutters. He sounds annoyed but the way he looks away and his ears turn pink you can tell he’s…shy. 

Simon Riley is fucking shy right now.

You take the bank card out of his hand and look at it, flipping over in your hands, “Why are you giving this to me?”

“So you can use it,” he mumbles, slamming his wallet shut and tossing it onto the table, “That way, in case anything happens you can withdraw from my account for what you need. If an emergency happens and I’m not around, use it.”

“Simon…” you mumble, looking up at him, “Are you sure..?”

“Course I’m sure,” he scoffs, taking a seat beside you before softly rattling off four digits.

“Huh?” you dumbly ask.

“It’s my pin,” he responds, grabbing one of the blankets you have piled on the couch and tossing it on his lap.

“That’s my birthday…” you say softly as you repeat the numbers over and over in your head, “Your bank pin is my birthday?”

He snatches the remote up from the table and turns the TV on without another word. But you can see how pink the tips of his ears are. It makes you beam and before you know it, you’re curling snugly into his side. 

“Love you, Si,” you whisper, earning a kiss to the top of your head in response.

Simon calls the next morning to have someone come by and fix the damn heating. You listen to the man rattle off some information to Simon about what the problem was but it makes virtually no sense to you so you resolve yourself to sitting on the couch and waiting until it’s warm again. 

But even when it’s nice and toasty inside, you still plaster yourself to Simon’s side, snuggling as close to him as you possibly can.

“I want you to meet my team,” Simon says one morning while he’s making some eggs. 

You’re standing by the toaster, waiting for it to pop up but his words make you turn to him, “You mean 141?”

“Who else?” he huffs, flipping one of the eggs. It sizzles loudly in the pan, “They wanted me to go out with them tonight. Thought you could join us.”

“Really?” you realize how incredulous you sound and then try again, “I mean really? That’s okay with you?”

He nods, plating the eggs, “I think it’s time they met you.”

“I-I’d love to,” you say, unable to hide the excitement you feel. 

You catch a slip of a smile on Simon’s face before the toast pops up and distracts you. 

You have to dig into your closet that evening, after a shower, to find something nice to wear. You figure an occasion like this calls for something a little nicer than just jeans and a t-shirt like you usually wear. But you can’t find much of anything. 

“What’re you huffin’ about in  here?” Simon asks when he walks in, towel wrapped around his waist. He’s still dripping wet from the shower and you can feel the way your mouth fills with saliva at the sight. 

“I uh…don’t know what to wear…” you respond, turning your back to him just as he slips the towel off. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, imagining Simon completely naked behind you.

“Wear those nice jeans you got,” he mumbles, grunting as he gets himself dressed, “And that little blue top you got.”

“The cropped one?” you ask incredulously, a brow raised as you turn to him. He’s got some jeans on now and he’s meticulously unfolding a black t-shirt so he can put it on, “I haven’t worn that in a while, how’d you even remember it?”

He shrugs, the muscles in his back rippling with his movement before he tosses the shirt over his head and pulls it down, covering his skin once again, “It’s cute. We’re just goin’ to the pub, love.”

“Okay,” you mumble, reaching into the back of your closet to pull the little shirt out, “If you’re sure this will be okay.”

“I’m sure,” he chuckles softly, grabbing his balaclava off the dresser. But he doesn’t put it on yet. Instead, he sits on the bed and watches you change.

You’re acutely aware of his eyes on you as you strip your shirt off. You keep your back to him, trying to ignore your racing heart. You don’t feel uncomfortable at all, instead you feel…excited. 

Your mind runs wild, imagining him stepping up behind you, kissing your neck and cupping your bare breasts in his big hands. They’re a little rough from his line of work and you wonder what they’d feel like against the sensitive skin of your tits, thumbing your nipples and pinching them a little meanly. 

“C-Can you hand me a bra?” you find yourself asking.

He grunts in acknowledgement and the bed creaks when his weight moves off it. He opens one of the drawers and is behind you in a second. His body heat permeates through his shirt as he presses his chest against your back. 

He slings your bra over your shoulder, holding it with one finger by the strap. You can’t help but tilt your head back to look up at him. He’s towering over you, pretty, brown eyes looking down his nose at you. 

You realize in this position, he could clearly see your breasts but he keeps his eyes on yours. You take the bra from him and he lets you, simply staring into your eyes with that stern silence he has about him.

“T-Thanks…” you find yourself whispering, mouth feeling particularly dry.

He grunts, lips quirked up just a bit before he turns his back and walks back to the bed. You let out a quiet, slow breath, willing your heart rate to go back to normal.

Simon was so exhilarating. Just being around him sets your heart racing and fingers trembling. 

You put your bra on and slip your top over your head, ignoring the sticky feeling in your panties as you do. 

“I don’t know, Si,” you mutter, turning to face him, “I-It’s a little tight on me now.”

The fabric once hugged you nicely but now it was snug. It molded around your breasts, even showing the lines of your bra. The neckline was low, giving a good show of cleavage – it didn’t help that Simon picked one of your more well padded bras. 

Simon looks up, his eyes immediately falling to your breasts. He sucks in a quick breath and looks away, licking his lips.

“Looks fine,” he mutters, standing to pull one of the drawers open again. He searches for a second, brows furrowed until he pulls out the jeans he was talking about. The ‘nice jeans’ as he called them, were just some low rise jeans you’d only worn about 4 times.

You look dumbly at them as he drops them into your hands.

“These?” you scoff, “Simon, I can’t–”

He quiets you with a kiss to your forehead, “Trust me, love.”

He steps out of the room after that, leaving you to your own devices. You’re thankful that you can change your panties without him seeing how saturated and sticky they’ve become because of him. You bury them in the laundry basket and remind yourself that you should do the laundry before he does because you’d be mortified if he found them. 

You don’t even look at yourself in the mirror, afraid you’ll feel too self-conscious if you see what you look like. But you trust Simon’s judgment on what he thinks would look good on you – and you can’t deny that dressing up how he likes feels nice. 

You step into the living room, intent on pulling your shoes on when Simon catches you with an arm around your waist. You gasp as he turns you to face him.

“You look lovely,” he whispers, smoothing his hands up your sides, thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to stroke your skin.

You swallow thickly as your heart starts racing in your chest again. He leans down and pecks your lips but pulls back before you have the chance to kiss back. 

“Let’s go,” is all he adds before walking away, leaving you no choice but to follow like the lovesick puppy you are. 

Walking into the bar, your heart pounds painfully in your chest from pure anxiety. Your hand is clasped tightly in Simon’s as he easily moves through the crowd. You suppose his height makes it easy to see over people. 

“You alright?” he asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Haven’t been in a bar since I worked at…” you trail off, giving him a half-hearted shrug.

“If you wanna leave, just say the word,” he mutters, giving your hand a squeeze.

“N-No,” you shake your head, shooting him a wobbly smile,”I wanna meet your team at least.”

He smiles reassuringly and gives your hand a tug to encourage you to follow him. He leads you right to a table situated in a corner, three men laughing and drinking. 

“There he is!” the one with the mohawk cheeks, holding up his pint in celebration.

“Shut up, Soap,” Simon grumbles petulantly as he pulls out a chair for you.

Soap, you note to yourself. You know them by name but you’ve never actually seen the faces to put to them. Soap looks like you imagined, a broad grin and pretty, bright eyes – you imagined them green but they’re blue. 

“And who is this lovely companion of yours, Simon?” an older man with a hat and mutton chops asks with a kind smile, eyes on you.

Simon says your name before he sits down with a grunt beside you.

“Price,” your boyfriend supplies when you look curiously at him.

The man in question holds out a hand which you take and softly shake, “Nice to meet you.”

“Had no idea Lt. had someone waitin’ for him at home,” Soap says, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

So you’ve met Soap, Price, and that leaves; your eyes land on the quiet guy sitting back in his chair, a cool smile on his lips. He meets your gaze and his smile broadens – not teasing like Soap’s but purely kind.

“You can call me Kyle,” he gives you a polite nod.

“Gaz, then?” you question, tilting your head to the side. Kyle looks surprised, eyes flicking to Simon who shifts uncomfortably in his chair, “He’s talked about all of you before. I only know your call signs though.”

“John will do fine if you’d like,” Price says, tipping his beer back to take a chug.

“Simon calls me Johnny,” Soap adds, “You’re welcome to as well. Anyone important to the Lieutenant is important to us.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Simon roll his eyes. It makes you smile. He leans over, nudging you with his knee, “You want anything to drink? I need one.”

“No thank you, Si,” you reply, intent on having a clear head for the night. You’ve never been much of a drinker anyway. 

When Simon’s gone from the table, you suddenly feel incredibly out of place. Price and Kyle have the decency to not stare you down but Soap seems keen on keeping his baby blue’s right on you and a goofy little smile on his face.

“Um…” you shift uncomfortably as you look back at him.

“We’ve never gotten to meet anyone from Ghost’s private life before,” Soap says, saving you from having to think of what to say, “Just shocked s’all.” 

“You’re gonna start giving the poor thing the creeps with your ugly mug,” Kyle chuckles which also makes Soap laugh.

“Sorry about that,” Soap lifts his glass and cheers to you before tipping it back. 

He grimaces slightly as it goes down before slamming his glass back on the table.

“It’s alright,” you respond, “Si’s not really the open book kind. So I understand.”

“How long have the two of you known each other?” Kyle asks.

You find yourself wondering where the hell Simon even is but answer regardless, “Since we were kids. Um, we lived next door. His mom and mine were friends, I guess.”

Soap nods his head, elbows on the table as he gives you his full attention, “You guess?”

You hum, “I’m 3 years younger than Simon. The way it was told to me by my mom is that…his mom came over and,” you couldn’t fight back the smile as you recalled the story.

“Oh this has got to be good,” Soap nudged Kyle excitedly at your grin.

“Told my mom that Simon didn’t have any friends and that he was a…soft-hearted boy and she wanted him to have some friends,” you giggle, holding a hand in front of your face to hide your laughter, “So she wanted to set up playdates with me even though I was still a baby. My mom didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”

Soap tosses his head back and laughs, “No fuckin’ way.”

“I’m shocked to say it but that actually makes him sound cute,” Kyle adds, unable to hide the laughter in his voice either.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Price says, but there’s a smile on his face, “Simon’ll knock you out cold on this table.”

“So you and Simon have been together since?” Kyle asks, glass cupped in both hands.

You nod, “Only time we’ve been apart is when he enlisted and had to go off for a few years to train.”

Soap opens his mouth to say something but a large figure finally drops down into the seat next to you. Simon has a glass of bourbon and a glass that he slides over to Soap who catches it with ease.

“Thanks, Lt,” he nods, taking a sip before making that disgusted face again.

“What are you lot talkin’ about?” Simon asks, drumming his fingers against his glass.

“We were discussin’ all your dirty secrets,” Kyle teases with a charming grin.

“Nothin’ too damning I hope,” Simon huffs before he takes a large gulp of his drink. 

The other three men all hide their grins behind their glasses. 

The anxiety you had felt at the beginning of the night is long gone. The task force is full of jokes and laughs and even Simon seems like a different person. 

With you, he’s kind and even soft. He’s by no means gentle or patient. 

But this side of Simon is so jovial and comfortable that it warms your heart to see. He drinks a few glasses and by the end of the night, he’s got a relaxed, lidded look in his eyes that lets you know he’s got a bit of a buzz going on. 

“It was lovely to meet you,” Price says when you all walk out of the bar.

“I really enjoyed meeting all of you as well,” you smile, letting Simon tuck you into his side with an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Get him home safe,” Soap teases, your smile only widening when you hear Simon huff in annoyance. 

You bid goodbye to the three of them and make your way to the car with Simon, plucking his keys out of his hand and forcing him into the passenger seat despite his grumbled protests of how ‘he’s not that drunk’.

When the two of you finally get into your apartment, you let him lock up and turn out the lights while you go to the bedroom and get ready for bed. 

“You looked really nice tonight,” Simon mutters when he finally walks in as you crawl into bed, “I’m glad you liked them.”

“I’m glad they liked me,” you huff, leaning back into the pillows, “They were all really nice guys.”

“Yeah,” Simon hums, tugging his shirt off of his head, taking his mask with it, “They’re good people.”

You nod your head and tuck your knees to your chest while he gets undressed. He slips on a plaid pair of pajama pants and shoves the drawer closed with his hip before yanking the blanket back to make room for his large body. 

You bounce a little on the bed when he drops his weight onto it. He smacks his pillow a couple times before he lays back and sighs. It’s clear he’s still a little buzzed from the way he fights to keep his eyes open.

“Simon?” you ask, turning to face him. 

That makes his eyes open back up before he looks at you, “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” you ask. 

He snorts and it makes you smile. He reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of your head. You let him tug you down, pressing your hands against his firm chest as you kiss him. 

His hand travels down your back as he sighs into your mouth. You pull away briefly to look into his eyes before you kiss him again, this time deepening it as much as you’re able. Simon sighs contentedly, his other hand coming up to caress your arm. 

“I like kissin’ you…” you find yourself whispering against his lips.

He groans at that, the sound going straight to your core. You feel yourself clench around nothing, already starting to leak into your panties. 

“Yeah?” he coos, cupping your cheek, thumbing over your lips, “You can kiss me all you want, love.”

You whimper, surging down to kiss him again. His hands grip your waist, intermittently squeezing you, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 

Suddenly, you feel the warm, slick slide of his tongue against your lips. You whimper and pull back, brows furrowed.

“Shh, love,” he coos, pulling you close again, “Jus’ relax and let me…”

You huff, struggling to catch your breath as he urges you to meet his lips again. You feel his tongue again and eagerly open your mouth, letting him taste the inside of your mouth. You shyly meet his tongue with yours and feel his grip on your waist tighten as he groans in his throat. 

You’re sure you’ve soaked well through your panties by now. There’s an ache in your clit that you long to reach down and relieve – or better yet, have Simon relieve. 

You bet his fingers would feel so damn good against you. You find yourself whimpering into the kiss at the thought alone. Simon lets out a husky laugh into your mouth before pulling away. 

A string of spit connects your lips before it breaks and vanishes. 

With a surge of confidence, you toss your leg over his waist. He grunts when your weight settles on his hips, on his cock. It’s chubbed up against his thigh from kissing you and he knows you can feel it. 

“What’re you doin’, baby?” he huffs, unable to stop his hands from traveling up the front of your body. 

You grab his wrist and boldly slide it under the hem of your shirt. He bites his lip to keep from moaning when he feels your bare breast fill his palm. You see the way his eyes start to roll back before he looks at you again. It makes you throb in your panties and you can’t resist grinding against him a little before he grabs your waist and stops you.

“Si…” you whimper, pressing your hands against his chest, “‘S wrong?”

“Can’t,” he clears his throat and sinks into the bed, “Can’t do this, love.”

“Why not?” you ask, feeling a pit of disappointment in your gut, “You don’t want to? I just thought…”

You feel your face burn with humiliation as you slide off of his lap. Simon lets you, simply laying there on his back, eyes closed and a knit between his brows, as he evens his breathing out. You fight back tears as you sit there, biting the inside of your lip anxiously. 

“Not…not tonight, sweetheart,” he finally says, reaching over to pet your hair, “Been drinkin’ ‘nd I want to be sober for it, yeah?”

It would have been a solid excuse if it didn’t sound so flimsy coming from his lips. Like he doesn’t even believe it himself. 

“Yeah…” you offer, giving him a wobbly smile before turning out the light. 

You’re too embarrassed to cuddle into him that night. 

“Can I ask you something?” you find yourself muttering as you relax on the couch with him, watching some old movie he picked out, “As long as you promise not to get mad.”

He snorts, taking a sip of his tea, “Won’t get mad.”

“I just want to know…” you clear your throat and sit up straight a little more, going over the question in your head, “Why did you leave that night…leave like that, just to have sex?”

He tenses up immediately, you can feel it. He shifts where he sits, spreading his legs just a little wider so he can sink deeper into the couch, “We already talked about this.”

You wince at his clipped tone, knowing you’re stepping into dangerous territory, “I know but…I want to know the real reason.”

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and sighs, keeping his eyes trained on the TV, “You think I was lyin’ to you?”

Now he sounds mad. You quickly shake your head, “No, Si. I-I’m not trying to start a fight, I swear. I don’t think you were lying. I just think you…weren’t telling me everything.”

He sighs. You can see the way his jaw ticks when he clenches it, “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, scooting a little closer to him, placing your hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt down a bit, “It was just…out of character for you, Si. I was really upset and you knew that. It wasn’t like you to just…leave. Just to get laid.”

He finally looks at you, just out of the corner of his eye. You meet the look, offering him an encouraging smile to show that you’re not upset or anything. 

“All night,” he finally mutters, “You’d been kickin’ in your sleep. Kept wakin’ me up.”

You nodded, a look of confusion on your face. You had no idea where this was going.

“You started sayin’ my name,'' he continued, “Moanin’ my name. Fuck, it was drivin’ me crazy.”

Your face flushes hot when you hear that. It all suddenly comes rushing back to you – what you’d been dreaming about. 

“You threw your leg over mine and I could–” he cuts himself off, his throat moving with how hard he swallows.

“Could what?” your voice comes out shockingly breathy. 

He catches it, looking at you. You can see the way his pupils widen immediately when he meets your gaze. It’s like he can see right through you, see the fact you’re dripping into your panties again. Just from this conversation alone. 

“I could feel how fuckin’ wet you were,” he brings a shaky hand up and runs it through his hair before he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Couldn’t fuckin’ deal with it. I had to…let it out somehow.”

“So you knew that I wanted you…like that?” you find yourself asking.

He scoffs and shakes his head, “Didn’t think about it like that. Figured it was just a dream and that’s all it was.”

“Wasn’t just a dream,” you assure, scooting closer to him.

Simon’s breath catches in his throat when you lean over him, resting your hand on the arm rest on his other side, letting it support your weight. You stand on your knees, making you just a little taller than him before you lean down and kiss him. 

He remains completely still, like he’s processing. His hands flounder in the air for a second before he’s carefully pushing you to sit back down. You slump against your heels and look at him, perturbed.

“Why..?”

“I need to make dinner,” he says lamely. 

“Simon…” you admonish, knowing he’s lying. 

He gets up, knees cracking as he does. He winces a little bit before he bends down to pick up the blanket that fell to the floor when he stood. You kept your eyes on him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You almost let him go but before you can stop him, you grab his arm. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Simon,” you mutter, “I keep trying to make things go further with you but I just keep making a fool of myself and I–”

“‘S not you,” he assures softly, taking your hand in his, “‘S all me, baby.”

“So why…” you frown, “I want you.”

He shakes his head, “Night you told me how you felt. You sounded scared.” 

You remember, the way his touch had made anxiety fill you. You had wanted him, of course, but for some reason it had just been so damn awful at the same time. You hadn’t really dwelled on why that was. 

“It wasn’t ‘cause of you, Si,” you assured, shifting so your feet were on the floor rather than under you, “I promise. I-I was just nervous, I think. That’s all.”

“I don’t want…” he licks his lips, seemingly thinking over his next words carefully before he says them slowly, “I don’t to hear you sound like that with me again. ‘S why I’ve been avoidin’ it. ‘Cause I don’t want you to get scared again.”

You shake your head, rising to your feet, stepping in front of him. You take his hands in yours and squeeze them, “I don’t want to make a fool of myself with you, Simon.”

He frowns, “You know I would never think poorly of you.”

You smile and shrug, “I know that. I think…that time was just…too soon. After that night at the bar and everything that happened. And then the fact I’m so inexperienced that it’s laughable. I think…I just wasn’t ready for it. I needed to go at my own pace and I have been.”

“I don’t want you to push yourself,” he hums, “I know that night at the bar was terrifying,” he brings a hand up to brush over your cheek, “I understand if you’re not goin’ to be ready for a long time. It’s normal to not be ready after what happened to you.”

You huff, “I’ve been trying to show you that I’ve been ready for a while now, Si. I was anxious at first, yes. But now it’s…like a good kind of nervous.”

“A good kind of nervous?” he mutters, hands moving to your hips to pull you closer. Your breath hitches in your throat and you nod dumbly, “Tell me all about it.”

“L-Like my heart races,” you breathe, “And I feel scared that I’m gonna do something silly and embarrassing but like I want to learn and…and I want to do good for you.”

“Fuck,” Simon groans, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder, “Can’t say shit like that to a man like me, love.”

“Why not?” you whimper, feeling your knees tremble in excitement when you feel his hands start to wander.

“‘Cause…” he whispers, running his hands up your sides, “Makes me think some nasty shit, sweetheart.”

You swallow thickly at the promise in his voice, “Simon…” 

You sound so wrecked already and it makes him moan softly in your ear, “Tell me about it, baby.”

Just like that, you’re spilling your guts to him, “Get so wet for you, Si, all the time. I want you so bad that it hurts.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, finally pulling his head from where he was hiding in your shoulder, tilting your chin up, “Where’s it hurt, baby? Hm? Right in that needy little cunt?”

You whimper immediately, looking up at him with wide, hazy eyes and nod, “T-Tried to touch myself. Thinkin’ about you made it hurt so I couldn’t help myself. Thought about you when I did.”

He hums as you babble to him but his mind latches onto one particular word, “Tried, baby? What do you mean "tried?”

Your cheeks burn hot at the slip up. Would he think you were silly for it?

“C-Can’t do it right,” you confess softly, hoping he doesn’t see how embarrassed you are, “Try so hard but n-nothin’ ever happens.”

Simon moans at that. Loud and unbridled, “What’re you sayin’, baby? That you can’t make yourself cum, s’that it?” You shake your head bashfully, “Fuckin’ hell. That’s adorable.”

“D-Don’t tease me, Si,” you whimper but the seat of your panties is so fucking wet that it’s sticking to you. 

He hums, a predatory smile spreads across his face, “Am I bein’ mean, love?” You nod your head, tearfully staring up at him. It only makes his smile widen, canines popping out, “‘M sorry. Can’t help myself when you tell me ‘bout how you touch your pretty little pussy and just can’t make yourself cum like you need. Think I can do it for you, hm? Want me to try and make you cum?”

You vigorously nod your head, uncaring how fucking needy you look to him. He’s offering to give you what you’ve wanted for years – to give you a real, honest to God orgasm. And you weren’t going to let this chance slip away. 

“Want you on the bed,” he suddenly whispers, “On your back, lose the pants but keep everything else on.”

With a jerk of his head in the direction of the bedroom, you take off. You hear him chuckle behind you at your excitement. He makes sure the door is locked before he heads back to the bedroom. 

You’re there just like he asked, pants pooled on the floor, leaving you in nothing but an old t-shirt of his and a pair of the cutest little lilac colored panties he’s seen. You’ve got your knees pinned together, clenching your thighs but laying perfectly still in waiting for him. 

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he praises, grinning when you whimper and tremble at his words, “Oh, sweet thing likes to be praised, huh?”

You nod your head, “Wanna be good for you, Si.”

“That’s sweet, baby,” he coos, reaching to the back of his collar so he can tug his shirt off of his head. 

Your heart hammers away in your chest when he crawls onto the bed, hands on either side of your head. He looks so big like this, on top of you, completely blocking any view you had of your ceiling and instead filling your viewline with just him. He leans down and kisses you, humming contentedly when you eagerly kiss back. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as he uses one hand to tug your legs open so he can slot himself between them. 

You cry out when he presses himself against your core. He’s wearing nothing but his jeans but you can feel the heat radiating through the thick material. 

“Shit, look at that,” he whispers, leaning back on his heels to admire the nice little wet patch that has stained your panties, “You already this wet, baby?”

“Kissin’ you always makes me this wet, Si,” you sweetly confess and oh, you are just so precious. 

His hands slide up your stomach, moving your t-shirt up and up until it sits crumpled under your chin. Your tits are bare and move with every gasping breath that you take. 

Simon’s hands are just as rough and warm as you’d expect them to be. His thumbs come up and glide over your nipples until they harden into stiff little peaks for him. 

Then his mouth is wrapping around one, swirling his tongue around it before pulling off with a lewd pop. His hand pinches the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he listens to you whimper and sigh. 

“Please, Si,” you whine, “I-It hurts, please.”

“It hurts?” he hums, leaving a fleeting kiss against the nipple his tongue was torturing just a moment ago, “Where? Hm?”

His hand travels down your body, cupping your cunt through your panties. You gasp, arching your hips just a bit to grind against his palm. He lets you, before he meanly pins your hips down with his other hand. 

“Where, love?” he smooths the pad of his thumb over the seam of your cunt through your panties. The fabric is saturated with your slick, letting him see every part of you through shape alone. His thumb finds your clit, the little bud poking out through the fabric from how hard and swollen it's become, “Here? ‘S it your pretty clit that hurts, love?”

You nod, eyes rolling back in your head when he presses his thumb against the bud, trapping it under his finger so he can roll mean little circles over it. You’d be mindlessly rutting your hips by now if he didn’t have his other arm slung over your hips to keep you pinned nice and still like he wants. 

It already feels so different than when you touched yourself. Maybe because it’s him or maybe because he’s so experienced. 

That thought makes you equal parts jealous and equal parts turned on. He’d slept with plenty of people but now he was using that expertise to make you feel good. 

“Can you take them off, please?” you whine, pitchy and sweet from arousal. 

“Asked so sweetly for me,” he coos, hitching his thumbs into the band of your panties before giving them a firm tug. 

You quickly lift your hips, letting him tug them down and off of your feet. You expect him to toss them away but instead he holds them up, thumbing over the slickness in the crotch. You watch him with wide eyes as he analyzes it. Your  breath hitches when he suddenly brings them towards his face and licks a wide stripe of the fabric, moaning when he gets a good laste of your syrupy sweet slick.

“Simon!” you gasp – admonish, leaning up to snatch them out of his grasp. 

His eyes open, he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them, to look at you. He licks his lips like a dog licking its chops when it tastes something real delicious. 

He doesn’t even comment on what he just did or the pure embarrassment that is written all over your face. Instead, he grips underneath your knees and yanks you down the bed towards him so your hips are situated in his lap. 

“Jus’ let me touch you, love,” he whispers, “I’ll work a nice little orgasm out of you in no time, yeah?”

You nod your head because you trust him. You know he’s going to be able to give you what you need so badly. You don’t even question it – especially when you feel how good it feels when he uses his thumbs to spread your folds open for him. He groans when he sees the sticky strings of slick that display just how turned on you are. 

Pretty little hole clenching sporadically around nothing, dribbling more creamy arousal that makes his tongue feel like lead in his mouth. A pretty clit that twitches and throbs under his scrutinizing gaze. But you make no move to cover yourself and hide from his gaze. 

He finally touches the bud directly and it’s like electricity strikes through you. You lose control of your body as your back arches and your thighs violently twitch. Your cheeks burn when you hear him chuckle softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive,” he huffs, a crooked little grin on his face as he brushes his thumb over your clit again, garnering the same reaction as before from you, “Fuck, can’t believe you’re this sensitive and can’t make yourself cum.”

“‘S cause it’s you, Si,” you sweetly confess.

And it’s true. Having him touch you like this directly – feeling his callused skin over the most sensitive little part of you is euphoric. It doesn’t feel anything like when you touch yourself at all. It feels magnified, you feel like a live wire and everything feels like too much. But you don’t do anything to impede him because you trust him more than anything – especially like this, with your body. 

He replaced his thumb with his middle finger, prodding at your entrance. You almost think he’s going to press inside you but he doesn’t – instead, he gathers your slick up on his finger and drags it up to your clit. He softly circles the bud, cock kicking against his thigh when you sigh and croon so sweetly for him. 

Your cunt makes sticky noises as he continues doing this, gathering your arousal and lathering your precious bud up with it so he can so softly play with it. His touches aren’t enough to actually work you to the edge, it’s much too slow and soft but it feels good. He waits for you to relax against the bed, lashes fluttering as you whimper and twitch on the bed for him.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss against your trembling thigh, “Relax f’me. Want you nice and soft for me so I can get my fingers in this tight little cunt.”

You gasp at that, partly in excitement and also in apprehension. You’ve never actually put anything inside yourself before – except once, you put your finger in and it burned so you never tried it again. 

“D-Dont…” you find yourself muttering, making him freeze. He thinks you’ve changed your mind, anxiety getting the better of you and he’s fully prepared to propel himself away from you at a moment's notice, “Be gentle, okay?”

His gaze softens when he looks at you, “Won’t hurt you, love. I promise.”

You remain relaxed for him when he carefully prods you with his middle finger. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, not rubbing it or anything, just keeping a nice pressure that keeps you sagged against the pillows. 

It doesn’t feel anything like when you tried that one time with yourself. Everything is so much wetter and more pliant. It’s like your walls just suck the digit in, even though it’s so much bigger than your own finger. 

You sigh softly when you finally have something to clench around. Simon gives you a sweet kiss to the spot right underneath your belly button in silent praise. He keeps his lidded, brown eyes on your face, watching every little expression you make with rapt attention. 

He slowly and carefully fucks his middle finger into you, feeling the way you slowly relax around him, soaking his skin with your arousal. He smooths his free hand up the length of your body, abandoning your clit to wrap his palm around your breast. You place your own hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze harder. 

“How’s that feel, love?” he asks, still sliding his finger in and out of you.

“Okay…” you reply, keeping your hand over his on your chest, “But it…um…”

“What?” he urges, “Tell me what you feel.”

“I-It feels nice but…” you trail off and he hums, nodding his head.

“Doesn’t feel good?” he finishes for you. You nod your head and he laughs softly, “I know, baby. Jus’ tryin’ to get you used to the feeling and then I’ll make it feel real good, alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper but he can tell you’re not too convinced that it’s going to feel much better.

You’re worried that the same thing is going to happen – it’ll feel really good and then you’re never going to be able to climb over that wall. You hate to imagine disappointing him, failing to get off. You’d hate for him to put all this work in and you just can’t cum in the end. 

“Hey,” he coos, “Get out of your head, pretty. Don’t worry about a thing, alright?”

You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, allowing yourself to relax against the bed again. Simon waits for you to be nice and pliant around his finger before he starts to fit his ring finger alongside it. He catches sight of the furrow in your brow when he stretches you around two of his fingers. It burns but when Simon brings his thumb back to your clit, tapping against the bud, it vanishes. Your thighs twitch and you whimper, walls clenching in time with the little taps until the burning vanishes completely.

“There we are,” he praises, “Knew you could do it, sweetheart.”

“A-Are you gonna add another?” you find yourself asking.

“Later,” he responds, scissoring the two fingers he has snug inside your cunt, “‘M a big man, love. Gonna need you nice and stretched for me.”

You whimper at that, walls clenching around his fingers as he slowly begins to fuck them in and out of you. Your cheeks burn when you hear the loud, squishing noises your hole makes every time he stuffs them back inside. 

After a moment of just getting you used to being stretched on two of his thick digits, he suddenly crooks them up and hits something inside you that makes your back arch. It causes a tingling feeling that you’ve never experienced to heat your tummy every time he touches it.

“Simon!” you squeal, trying to clench your thighs closed but his broad shoulders keep them open, “Th-That feels-!”

“I know, baby,” he coos cockily, grinding his fingertips against that little spot that makes you so gooey and creamy around his fingers, “Feels real good right there, I know.”

Your back arches and your jaw drops. You can’t do anything but moan and cry out as he fucks against that spot. He’s urged on by your sounds of pure pleasure, eyes flicking between where he’s got your pretty cunt spread open and the euphoric expressions you can’t do anything to hide.

It’s so precious, seeing you so open and loud for him. You don’t do anything to hide your sounds of pleasure nor do you even think of faking any of them for his sake. Every little thing you’re feeling, you express, and you can’t help yourself because it’s all so new and so much.

That hot, tingling feeling in your core only intensifies with every experienced stroke of his fingers. Your eyes are rolling back every time he touches that magnificent spot inside you, abusing it with his fingers until your walls are soft and malleable for him again.

And then he brings his index finger into it. He’s even more slow and careful as he fits it in beside the other two fingers. It doesn’t burn like when he had given you his second finger but it’s a certain stretch that simply feels strange. 

He gets you stuffed open on his three fingers, up to the third knuckle. You’re spread so wide and squeeze his fingers so tight that it makes him moan when he thinks about what it will feel like around his cock. 

If you’re this tight around just his fingers then you’re going to feel positively euphoric around him. 

“Simon…” you coo, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair. 

He grunts in acknowledgement, but is unwilling to part his gaze from the sight of the creamy mess you’ve begun to leave on his fingers. Your pretty clit is twitching and so swollen, glistening from your juices and he suddenly has the inescapable desire to wrap his mouth around it. 

You’re not even looking when he decides to do it. It’s like he can’t stop himself. 

All you feel is something wet and hot wrap around the little bud. You practically wail at the feeling of his tongue sliding against it. Your feet kick aimlessly, hitting his back and shoulders as you flail beneath his body. 

You sob his name, yanking harshly on his hair in a way that hurts but he’s not going to stop you. He knows it’s mean to do this, not even warning you or easing you into the feeling before he’s suckling your clit. His tongue slips in circles around it, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His ears practically ring from how loud you’re crying out for him. 

His three fingers remain buried inside you but he’s hardly able to move them from how tight you’re squeezing them. All he can do is grind his fingers against your g-spot but it only makes your pretty body more twitchy and makes you squirm even more beneath him. He has to hold you down so you can’t get away. 

He doesn’t want your precious pussy to be ripped away from him, your juices are making his taste buds tingle – you taste so damn good. 

That familiar heat begins to grow in your core – one you’ve experienced many times before by yourself. You cry and wail for him, sobbing his name and gripping his hair. 

“S-Si, don’t stop, please, please, please–” you choke on your own cries, slamming your head into the pillows as your back arches painfully hard. 

He grunts lowly, blonde lashes fluttering as he watches your body’s pure, unfiltered reactions to this pleasure. He knows you’re getting close, can feel you clenching around him and your clit pulsing on his tongue in time with your heartbeat. 

You feel yourself reaching that wall, the one you can never overcome. But it feels different this time, the pleasure isn’t slowing. It’s not fading like it always does when you’ve got your own fingers on your bud. 

It always seems to slip out of your grasp by this point.

This is it, you think. You’re going to cum. You’re finally going to fucking cum. 

Then everything stops.

His tongue is gone from your clit and his fingers are nowhere to be found. Simon’s shoulders rise and fall as he watches your face flicker through a range of emotions before your eyes fill with tears and you look at him – utterly pitiful and hopeless.

“Wh-Why…” you finally whisper, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. 

Your cunt pulses and throbs around nothing, the heat of your orgasm quickly dissipating, leaving that horribly empty and unsatisfying feeling in its wake. 

“Sorry, baby,” he coos, genuine and soft as he leans up to kiss your face, “That was mean, huh? ‘M sorry. Jus’ want you to have your first orgasm on a cock, love.”

That doesn’t do anything to quell your disappointment but you nod anyway, wiping away some stray tears that trickle from your eyes. 

“Please,” you breathlessly whisper, “Please, Simon. Want your cock, please. I-I was so close. It felt so good,” you start babbling, eyes falling to the hard outline of his cock in his jeans, “I wanna cum so bad, Si. Y-You promised. Please, just give me your cock. Please? Please? Simon!”

Simon’s mouth goes dry as he hears your babbled begging. Fuck, you’re absolutely aching for it. All you can think about is cumming. He never thought he’d get to hear you beg for him like this, so pathetically. You should be embarrassed, begging for cock like this when you’ve only just now gotten your first taste of being stretched open. Yet here you are fuckin’ crying for it.

His cock drools pre down his thigh, he can feel how wet his boxers have become from how much he’s leaking it. He’s aching in his jeans – he can’t pretend he doesn’t want it just as badly as you do.

“Shit, alright!” he snarls, wrapping a hand around your throat to force you to look at him. You gasp at the rough treatment, “Jus’ shut up and I’ll give it to you, yeah?”

You obediently nod your head, still staring up at him with those wide, teary eyes. He tries to act like his hands aren’t fucking trembling when he yanks his belt off. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this needy – this excited to get his cock inside a pussy. 

But it’s you. You’re special. 

He loves you. This isn’t like the one night stands and hookups he’s had in the past. This is different. 

He feels like a fumbling teenager the way he clumsily yanks his belt out of the loops and shoves his jeans down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock, big and heavy, hangs under its own weight – it never slaps up against his stomach. He wasn’t just chatting shit when he said he was a big guy. 

He wrapped his hand around himself, giving it a few, firm tugs. He feels your eyes on him, watching the way he touches himself and it sends heat through him. He scoots closer to you again, pulling back his foreskin to show the fat, leaky head that he meanly taps against your clit. 

You gasp a cute little ‘ah!’ when he does that brings a smile to his face. He can’t say he’s the best lay for a virgin because he’s so big and he’s a brute – it’s in his nature. But he’s trying his best for you. 

“Alright, baby,” he coos, leaning on one forearm above your head, draping his big body over yours. He easily manhandles you into position, caging your knees against your chest and wrapping himself around you, “Just relax for me, hm? Can you do that f’me?”

You nod your head and shakily put your hands on his shoulders, cupping his jaw to bring him down to kiss you. He sighs into your lips, using his free hang to grip the base of his cock, prodding against your hole. You’re so slippery that it slides out of you and slips up your clit. You whimper at the feeling, thighs twitching at the stimulation. 

When he finally starts to press inside, your nails bite into his shoulders. It stings – it hurts. He’s so big, making your poor little cunt burn the deeper he presses himself. The head pops in and your hips jump at the feeling, his cock slipping back out. 

He huffs, dropping his forehead against your shoulder, “Fuck, sit still.”

“S-Sorry!” you whimper, “I’m sorry!”

“Shh,” he sighs, kissing your cheek, “‘S okay, baby. Hurts, huh?”

“A little,” you whimper, trying to downplay it so he won’t stop.

He hums and presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth. He knows that working an orgasm out of you before making you take his cock would be the nice thing to do but he’s selfish. He wants to feel your orgasm around his cock – where you deserve to have it. 

It’s your very first orgasm after all. It needs to be good and he knows he can make it real good once he can get you speared on his cock. 

So he grips himself again, sitting up for just a moment to lewdly spit on your pussy. It hits your clit and trickles down where he catches it with the head of his cock. He leans over your body and starts to push in again. This time he tucks his arms under your shoulders and pins you impossibly against him, leaving you with nowhere to run when he starts to press into you. 

You whimper, feet kicking against his back when he pushes deeper than before – past the head. He knows it hurts, you’re stretched beyond your limit and he waits with bated breath for you to say the word and tell him to stop. 

But you don’t. 

You just grapple your arms around his waist and dig your nails in. His skin is sweaty by now and it makes getting any purchase on him difficult. You let out a watery little whimper that has him freezing. You’re speared on half his cock when he finally looks at you. 

Your eyes are teary and they slowly drip down your cheeks.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, brushing some away with his thumb.

You immediately shake your head, no hesitation, “No! K-Keep goin’, Si.”

“Don’t cry, pretty,” he shushes, keeping his grip under your shoulders and his hips pinned firmly against yours so you can’t squirm when he starts pressing in again. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp, eyes fluttering from the ache that settles where he’s stretching you wide, “‘S okay, just take a deep breath. ‘M almost in, love, you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me. Takin’ all of my cock so deep, just like you deserve. Hear me? This cock s’all yours now, yeah? Can have it whenever you need it.”

Your walls spasm around his cock as he talks, making him groan low in his chest. He’s almost there, can feel his balls starting to tap against you the deeper he gets until finally, his hips meet yours and you wail. 

He prods painfully against your cervix and he knows that it’s uncomfortable but he’s not willing to pull back just yet. He needs you to get used to being stretched and stuffed full of every inch of him. He takes care to do slow, gentle grinds, his pelvis catching your clit that eventually makes you relax. 

“That’s it,” he praises, “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

He finally eases off of you, balancing his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, hovering over you. He slowly pulls his hips back, watching you slump against the bed when he finally stops pressing on your cervix. 

He finally starts fucking you, sliding his cock out just a bit before rolling his hips forward again. It's slow and soft, just testing the waters and getting you used to this new stimulation. 

It feels entirely different from his fingers. His cock is bigger, fills you so much more, touches deeper. 

His cock reaches spots deep inside you that his fingers didn’t even reach. But he’s permanently pressing against that spot his fingers were torturing. It feels so fucking good. 

Simon can see the way your eyes roll back as he carefully fucks you. Your first cock and you’re taking it so damn well. It makes him want to see how much more you can take but he knows he needs to ease you into it, he doesn't want to overwhelm you.

“Si…” you sigh softly, blinking as you struggle not to float off and become drunk with pleasure. 

“I know, pretty,” he coos, kissing your cheek before leaning back on his heels, fastening the thrusts of his hips. 

You can’t keep quiet now, mouth falling open to let out the most precious sounds of pure pleasure. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, like he’s hung the moon and stars in the sky just for you. His cock fucking throbs at the look of wonder that crosses your face. He knows you’re getting close, can feel how tight you’re clamping around him and he can see how much you’re creaming around him – making a mess at the base of his cock and in the thatch of curls there. 

“You gonna cum?” he coos, grinning when you shake your head, “Of course you are. I can fuckin’ feel it, baby. Know you got one for me, go ahead. Cum on my cock real nice, c’mon.”

“C-Can’t,” you whimper. It’s too much. You’re so wet. It’s fucking messy but you feel yourself at that damn wall, hanging on a thread and waiting for euphoria to come but it doesn’t, “Please! Simon! Please, I-I can’t! Please, please, please…”

“Fuck,” his hisses when he hears you begging to cum on his cock, “Come on then, baby. You can do it. Just let it go, let me fuck it outta you.”

You toss your head back into the pillows as a sob is ripped from your chest. As if he can sense how much you’re struggling, he brings his thumb down to press against your clit. Your eyes fucking roll, only the whites of them visible. You clench down around him like a vice and it only takes a couple little swipes of his thumb for you to tumble over the edge. 

It feels unlike anything you could have ever imagined. Pleasure soars through you and your hearing cuts out. It feels like you lose control of your body, unable to do anything but thrash and twitch as he fucks you through it. You’re not sure if you would prefer him to stop or keep going because it’s all so fucking much that it hurts. 

You’re gushing around him, drenching his cock in sticky, creamy cum that drips in thick strings down his balls. Holy fuck.

It feels like hours that you’re speared on his cock, cumming and cumming before it finally leaves you and you collapse against the bed. You’re still twitching, entire body shivering until he finally slows his thrusts to soft little rolls of his hips. He takes his thumb off of your clit and you’re thankful because it was starting to become unpleasant. 

You swallow despite how dry your mouth is, eyes finally focusing on him. His brows are furrowed and his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. Pretty, brown eyes are locked on you and you suddenly feel shy. 

Had he been watching you the whole time? You hoped you didn’t make any ugly faces or embarrassing noises. 

“Fuck,” he coos, seemingly sensing your shame, “That was a fuckin’ orgasm, love.”

You’re panting, you realize. And you’re tired. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life. 

All you can think is that you’ve been missing out on that your whole life? Now you’re not sure you’ll be able to even live without it ever again. 

Simon’s hands cup under your knees and pin them to your chest. You gasp as he bends you as he sees fit. You’re limp, so completely drunk on the pleasure you just experienced that you simply let him. 

But you realize he’s even deeper like this – and it doesn’t hurt like it did before. He’s pressing against your back wall and it actually feels good. You feel so sensitive inside, like you can feel every twitch of his cock. 

He’s still languidly dragging his cock in and out of you. It’s a fucking mess between your legs, you’ve cum so fucking much that it’s everywhere. He’s never been covered like this before and it’s fucking hot. 

Your cum sticks between the two of you in little strings that break and reform every time his hips meet and leave yours. Your little clit is puffy and swollen from your orgasm and he wants to press his thumb against it again but he knows the poor little thing is much too sensitive still. 

Your legs flop uselessly as he fucks you, eases you past overstimulation until you’re sweetly cooing for him again. He takes that chance to fuck you properly again, intent on finding his own orgasm deep in your cunt. 

His heavy balls slap against your ass. He wants to cum. He plans to make himself cum like this, just using your pretty pussy. But then he sees your eyes widen again and your lips part almost curiously and his eyes narrow.

“You feel it again, huh, sweetheart?” he goads, shifting his weight on his knees so his hips are pressed even closer to yours. 

“C-Can’t,” you whisper, the same thing you had before. But it’s different now, “W-Won’t be able to, Si.”

“S that a challenge, love?” he teases, a crooked little smile on his face. You sleepily shake your head, “Hmm, I think I can fuck another one out of you. One orgasm won’t be enough, two is a good number for now. Until I train this little cunt to cum for me all night long.”

You whimper, reaching out the claw at his forearms where he pins your knees to your chest. You’re held so uselessly open, cunt completely vulnerable to his fat cock stuffing you full. His pelvis hits your clit in a way that makes the little bud tingle and your cunt clenches pathetically around him with every thrust he gives you. 

Sweet little ‘ah, ah, ah’s’ are punched from your lungs every time he sinks completely inside. He’s gripping your knees harshly, squeezing where he has a grip as his own orgasm starts to creep up on him but he’s going to give you another orgasm. He has to make you cum again, to see you lost in pleasure like that once more. He knows that will push him over the edge, give him what he needs. He wants to cum with you, fill you up while you’re in the throes of pure pleasure that only he has ever given you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps, fighting the feeling of his own eyes rolling back in favor of watching you. 

He loves the way you wear everything you feel on your face. From the looks of wonder when it feels really good to the little rolls of your eyes when he makes it hurt just a bit. It’s so cute. 

Makes him want to play around with that little part of you – be a little mean to you. 

“Cum,” he growls, fighting his own orgasm down, “Fuckin’ cum right now.”

“I can’t!” you wail, kicking against his hold on your knees, pressing down to spread you open even further. 

His hips slam against yours, loud slaps and slick noises of your gooey cunt filling his ears, “You can. You will. Cum, sweetheart. You better fuckin’ cum.”

But you shake your head. It’s so close, you can feel it. It’s creeping up on you and you want it so bad. You want to feel that pleasure again. But you’re not even sure you’re going to be able to cum again, it feels so much more sensitive than before. It’s too much. 

Simon bares his teeth, letting go of one of your legs to drift between your thighs. Your eyes widen, you think he’s going to rub it again – it’s so sensitive that you’re not sure you’ll be able to take it. 

But instead, he does something else.

You hear it before you feel it, a soft little slap followed by the feeling of being electrocuted. Simon watches you with lidded eyes to see how you react. Just like he expected, you wail and your body gives a mean twitch at the impact. 

So he does it again. 

And again. 

And again.

Not too hard, just enough for it to hurt a little bit. A sting against a terribly sensitive little bud. It’s mean – he’s mean. But he can’t fucking help it. 

He needs you to cum for him again.

“Cum,” he snarls, giving your clit another slap.

As if on command, it sends you over the edge. Your legs kick out and he has to abandon your clit to hold you down, pinning you harshly to the bed as he uses all his weight to fuck down into your spasming little cunt. You’re cumming so hard around him that you stop breathing. He hears the hitch of breath and doesn’t hear the exhale. All you do is lay there, cry for him and cum.

He finds his end just as violently, tossing his head back to moan into the room as cum erupts from his cock. His thrusts grow sloppy as he milks the orgasm out of himself, voice breaking as he whimpers from how fucking good it feels. 

Like no orgasm he’s ever experienced. It’s like he can’t stop cumming, filling you up so much that it oozes out from around his cock. 

You’re trembling underneath him when he finally comes down, tearfully gazing up at him with your mouth agape, struggling to catch your breath.

“N-No more,” you pathetically whimper, legs twitching from the aftershocks, “C-Can’t take anymore, Si.”

“Shh,” he shushes, letting your legs go so you can relax comfortably as he pulls his cock from your pussy.

It’s twitching and clenching sporadically, still coming down from your orgasm. It makes his cum drip out of your cunt, a mess that spreads to the already messy sheets. Your cum and his mix together to make a sticky, gooey mess that makes his mouth water. He wants to eat it up, stuff his tongue into your tight little hole and swallow it all down. 

But he can’t. Maybe next time, he vows.

His cock gives a valiant kick at the thought of getting to do this again. He sits on his heels, gazing at his messy cock as if softens. He feels dazed, almost drunk. 

Then he hears the softest little sniffle from you and his eyes snap up to your face to find your crumpled expression and tears falling down your face. You cover your face with your hands and earnestly begin to cry.

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” he coos, laying beside you to tuck you into his chest.

“I-I don’t know why I’m crying,” you sob, wrapping your arms around his waist as you cry into him. 

“It happens,” he assures, “It was a lot and you’re just a little overwhelmed s’all. Just let it out, baby.”

And you do, weakly sobbing into his chest until it feels like you can’t cry anymore. He holds you through it all, rubbing your back and cooing sweet nothings in your ear until you grow silent. 

“Alright, love?” he asks.

“S-Sorry, Si,” you sniffle, finally pulling out of the spot in his arms you were hiding in, “I-I don’t want you to think I didn’t want it or that it was bad. I just…”

He gives you a soft smile, leaning forward to kiss you. It’s short and sweet, “I don’t think that. Like I said, it happens. Sometimes people just cry after sex, nothin’ to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” you sniffle, wiping your cheeks dry when the tears finally stop.

“Positive,” he sits up, “Let’s get cleaned up, alright? We need to change the damn sheets, fuckin’ hell.”

You giggle as you look down at the sheets where a very visible dark spot is sitting where you once laid. You don’t even have time to be embarrassed before he’s swooping you off of the bed and escorting you to the bathroom.

It’s too small for both of you to fit but you make it work. He wipes you down with a warm cloth before hopping into the shower to rinse and clean himself before he gets out and lets you do the same. While you do that, he changes the bedding completely and replaces it with new sheets and blankets for the two of you to sleep in together. 

When you finally stumble into the bedroom, he wraps his arms around you and urges you onto the bed. You giggle as you flop onto the bed before he crawls in after you and covers the both of you up, wrapping himself around you until you’re tucked securely against him. 

“I take it you liked it?” he finally whispers.

You shyly nod, “I-It was um…fun.”

“Felt real good, huh?” he teases, grinning wolfishly when you whimper.

“Y-Yeah,” you whisper, “It felt really good. I already want to do it again.”

Simon groans, hugging you tightly before shaking his head, “You’re gonna be insatiable. Gonna give my cock a run for its money.”

You giggle, affectionately petting his hair before he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen. It’s like his eyes are sparkling in the low light of the bedroom. He leans forward and ever so softly kisses your forehead, then your nose, before he reaches your lips. He pecks them softly, pulling back for just a second before he kisses you again. 

“I love you,” he whispers, so soft that you almost miss it. 

And your heart begins to race. You almost struggle to find the words to reciprocate. But when you do, he smiles and tucks you against him again, big arms wrapped around you like a bear hug.

It’s almost surreal. You can’t believe you’re here after everything – with him. 

Like you’ve dreamed your whole life, he loves you just like you love him. 

PART ONE.

do not modify, translate, or repost

[swampthingking]

can’t study for my test because i’m having brain rot about neil accidentally getting super drunk and stumbling up to aaron like “andrew???” and aaron is like “wrong one” and neil is like “andrew.” and aaron is like “???? are you stupid” and neil goes to look for andrew but he stumbles into the table, and aaron has to catch him or he will get trampled for fucks sake, and neil just collapses into him in a drunk cuddly heap. and aaron is like “neil. you need to stand up” and neil is like “i am” and aaron is like “that’s because i’m holding you up” and they get neil to stand but neil kinda just flops into aaron’s arms again. and neil is like “i don’t hate you, i don’t, but it’s okay if you hate me” and aaron is like “ugh, ew are you really an emotional drunk???” and neil, to aaron’s horror, looks at him with tears in his eyes because you know when you’re too drunk and you kind of just get a little scared and you need help???? ya. and aaron is like … ok. and kinda holds neil until andrew comes back from the bar with more drinks. and he sees neil basically asleep on aaron’s shoulder, and aaron looking uncomfortable but accepting, so he kinda raises an eyebrow, an okay? and aaron nods and is just patting neil on his back

and tomorrow they’ll wake up and neil will toddle downstairs with his hand against his temple and aaron will have advil ready for him, and he’ll say “you’re annoying and you don’t know when to shut your mouth or mind your own business, but i don’t hate you” and the thank you for helping repair my relationship with my brother and thank you for testifying and thank you for staying goes unsaid but yeah

and that’s how aaron and neil became kind of friends

edit: vomited out a one shot for y’all (this will prob become a 5+1)

Aaron swirled his drink a few times, listening to the ice clacking against the glass.

Eden’s was packed tonight, courtesy of it being the end of the school year. College students and the regular patrons flocked to the bar, the dance floor, and all of the tables, leaving Aaron to reserve a high-top table, and his legs to dangle from the stool.

“Drew?”

Aaron ignored him in favor of the twinkling sound the ice makes in his glass. He’d already taken shots, danced, had another drink, danced again, and now Aaron’s body was heavy with alcohol and exhaustion.

“Drew,” Neil said again.

Aaron looked around their table and didn’t see Andrew. He remembered Andrew getting up and walking to the bar with their empty tray. Aaron found him a few seconds later, hands in his pockets at the bar. That and Neil, staring up at him, looking uneasy.

Before Aaron could tell Neil to get out of his face, Neil was speaking.

“Are you’nt having fun?” Neil frowned, blinking sleepy, hooded eyes at him. He leaned closer to study Aaron’s face.

“What are you doing?” Aaron grumbled, pushing Neil’s face away.

Aaron hadn’t even pushed him hard, he more removed Neil from his space rather than pushed him, but Neil wobbled like his world had tilted out of orbit. Aaron realized, quickly, that Neil was going to fall backwards. He grabbed two fistfuls of Neil’s shirt and pulled him forwards. Neil’s head lulled on his shoulders with the force, his chin hitting his chest then righting itself.

Aaron’s stomach lurched, sick with the thought that someone had put something in one of Neil’s drinks, as he would for anyone, but thankfully he’s never been put in that situation. Neil’s eyes were hooded, his face flushed. Aaron snapped once at Neil’s ear, and Neil recoiled immediately.

“Does your head hurt or anything?” Aaron asked. Neil shook his head, frowning.

“Are you dizzy? Follow my finger.” Aaron pushes Neil back so he can see his face, keeping one hand on Neil’s shoulder to hold him up. Neil follows Aaron’s finger as it moves back and forth, albeit a little labored, but not as if he’d been roofied. Aaron declares that Neil’s reaction times and responses are fine, but he still pulls the front of his shirt up and checks his belt, the button of his pants.

“What—?” Neil slapped a hand on his abdomen, stopping his shirt from being lifted any higher. Aaron didn’t need to see anything but his pants, but it was reassuring that Neil still had inhibitions.

His clothes were fine. His belt was still done, zipper up. No one had tried anything. Aaron relaxed.

“Sorry,” Aaron said. “Sorry, I just needed to…”

While racking his mind back to why Neil is this drunk, Aaron remembered Neil taking shots with Aaron, Nicky, and Kevin. Four shots. He’d seen Neil sip on another drink like the idiot had the tolerance for alcohol that the rest of them had.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Aaron said and released Neil. Neil attempted to step back, his hands raised in surrender.

“No?” Neil asked warily. Even drunk as fuck, he still respected boundaries. Andrew’s boundaries specifically, as it still hadn’t registered that he wasn’t talking to the right twin.

“I’m not Andrew,” Aaron said.

“Where’s Andrew?” Neil asked, turning his head pathetically in search. Aaron only had a good view of Andrew because they were seated at a high-top. Over the throng of taller people coupled with strobing lights, Neil’s view was obstructed.

“At the bar,” Aaron nodded in that direction.

Neil turned towards the bar. Well, he attempted to. He pivoted, lost his balance, and toppled into the table. He tried to right himself and started to fall to the other side. Aaron caught Neil before he could bust his shit and get trampled.

“Jesus Christ, Josten,” Aaron spat, righting Neil with hands on his biceps. Neil slapped a hand on the table and leaned his weight on it. The table quaked under such abuse, but held.

Neil turned slowly, grappling against the table as if he was standing in one of those spinning fair rides. In his excursion to simply spin 180°, his hand slipped off the edge of the table as he faced Aaron once again. He reached for the table, missed, reached for it again, missed, said, “Motherfucker,” under his breath, and finally gripped onto the edge. His eyes locked on Aaron’s again, and Neil’s useless hand landed on Aaron’s shoulder.

“Andrew,” Neil said. Aaron didn’t know if it was more a request or if it was just not registering.

“Wrong,” Aaron said, tense under Neil’s hand, but he didn’t push him off. He’d rather hold Neil up than peel him off the floor. “Aaron.”

“‘m very drunk,” Neil said, looking up pleadingly at Aaron as if he had a magical cure to shitfacedness, and all Neil had to do for it was look a little scared. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Aaron asked.

“I’m drunk.”

Aaron snorted. “That’s kind of the point when you’re at a bar.”

“But,” Neil said, taking a labored breath, “I’m…too drunk.”

This was beginning to feel exceedingly similar to speaking to a child. Aaron was annoyed, but not completely heartless, unlike the narrative of Aaron Neil had likely concocted. “It’s okay, Neil,” Aaron said. “You should sit down.”

Neil promptly sat as if there was a chair under him, but there was not. Aaron, still holding Neil vertical, got pulled out of his chair with the momentum. To avoid toppling to the ground—which did not get mopped as often as it should—Aaron planted his feet on the floor and hauled Neil up by his armpits.

“Help,” Neil murmured. His arms dropped to his sides as he yielded his dead weight to Aaron.

“Stand up,” Aaron grunted, readjusting to wrap an arm around Neil’s back. One of Neil’s arms flopped over Aaron’s shoulder.

“I am,” Neil complained.

“No, you are not.”

“I am.”

“Neil,” Aaron said through clenched teeth, “I am holding you up. You need to lock your knees.”

“Oh,” Neil said. He looked at his feet as if he needed to check they were on the ground.

To be fair, Neil did lock his knees, but he also leaned all of his upper body on Aaron, arms still hanging limply at his sides. He tucked his head into Aaron’s neck with, what seemed, every intention to make a home there for the night.

“Neil,” Aaron said, frozen against the hair tickling his cheek. “God dammit.”

“And…ron,” Neil spoke against his shoulder.

“Yes,” Aaron said sarcastically. “That’s me.”

“Can I j’stay here?” Neil slurred.

From what Aaron had seen of Neil’s dynamic with his brother, he knew Neil would get off if he said no. He could place Neil into a stool or pull up a chair with a back so he wouldn’t fall out and concuss himself. He could shove Neil off and make him fend for himself. He could pawn him off to Andrew.

At the moment, those other options seemed like far too much work.

That, or maybe it was the med student in him, the intrinsic urge to heal and help and nurture that smarted at the thought of pushing Neil off.

Aaron didn’t push him off when Neil readjusted and tucked an arm into his chest, the other gripping Aaron for stability. He didn’t when Neil asked again, a quiet, “Aaron.”

“Okay,” Aaron conceded. He rubbed a hand up and down Neil’s back placatingly, but also because Neil seemed like he needed it. And he came to Aaron for it. Well, he came to Andrew and got Aaron. But he didn’t push Aaron off, and Aaron hasn’t done the same.

And they just…stood like that. For what seemed like a long time, but it probably was only a few minutes before Neil spoke again.

“Aaron,” Neil said.

Aaron hummed in response.

“I don’ hate you.”

“What?” Aaron asked. “What the fuck are you talking about, Neil?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“What?” Aaron said again.

“I don’wanna fight.” Neil lets out a colossal breath.

“We haven’t fought in a long time,” Aaron says, his idea of agreement. Acceptance.

Neil was quiet, because it was true. Neil seemed content to lay in Aaron’s arms, and Aaron didn’t have another stool next to him. He sure as shit wasn’t giving his up for Neil, but Neil was genuinely so unsteady on his feet that Aaron couldn’t let him go.

He trembled a bit, and Aaron was almost amused that after everything Neil had been through, being a little too drunk is what finally did it for him.

But Aaron had felt that way before. Inebriated and scared in a crowded room of strangers. Neil, however, has people he knows. How can Aaron be upset at Neil for wanting the comfort that he also craved? How can he be upset that Neil feels safe enough with Andrew to ask for help? That his brother finally feels safe with someone too?

“Aaron,” Neil said.

“What,” Aaron said.

“It’s okay if you hate me.”

“Oh God,” Aaron groaned, “Ew. Are you really an emotional drunk?”

Neil pulled back and, to Aaron’s horror, there were actual tears in his eyes. His lip trembled as he bit it, holding the tears in. Aaron hated how much of himself he was seeing in Neil tonight. The harrowing fact that maybe they are quite similar.

“Oh God,” Aaron said again, mortified. He grabbed the back of Neil’s head and shoved it back into his shoulder, effectively hiding Neil’s teary face.

He cast a desperate look to Andrew, who was finally on his way back to the table. He patted Neil on the shoulder, like one would burp a baby when they have no idea how to do so.

“Andrew.”

Andrew didn’t need prompting to look. His eyes were trained on Neil and Aaron from the moment he turned around. By the nonchalance of his movements and his lack of alarm, Aaron guessed he had been watching their interaction.

Andrew set the tray down on the table and cast a significant look between them, settling on Neil’s intoxicated form keeled over on Aaron’s shoulder.

Andrew raises one eyebrow, a silent question, an okay?

Aaron finds himself nodding, and unsure why. All he knows right now, a few drinks in, is that he doesn’t hate this. And he doesn’t hate that Neil doesn’t hate him.

-

The smell of coffee set Neil’s feet moving like a Pavlovian response. He was half awake already with a pounding headache, like his eyeballs were beating his closed lids to death.

Neil toddles down the stairs with his eyes closed, a hand pressed hard to his temple, stabilizing his brain.

Aaron was standing at the counter already, facing the sputtering coffee pot. His arms were crossed, hair ruffled from sleep. At the sound of footsteps behind him, he turned.

The memories from last night played past Neil’s mind like a sped-up movie. He grimaced in embarrassment, and felt a little sick at how drunk he was. How stupid he was, to drink that much. He should have known his tolerance isn’t matched with the rest of them. He could have gotten hurt, could have said something—

Fuck.

“Fuck,” Neil said, covering his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Aaron said. He turned back to the coffee, though his posture was rigid.

Neil grabbed a glass of water. He noticed Aaron watching from the corner of his eye, but Neil chose to ignore him, figuring that’s best. He sat on the counter with his water, sipping it slowly while he and Aaron waited for the coffee to finish brewing.

The silence was thick, but they were both too stubborn to leave the kitchen. Usually, they preferred to wait and pretend the other wasn’t there.

That’s what Neil thought, at least. After a painful few minutes, Aaron huffed and grabbed the bottle of Advil from the drawer next to the sink. He shook two pills out and sat them next to Neil.

Neil stared at them until Aaron cast a pointed look at the pills, then physically gestured to them with raised brows. Neil took them while Aaron watched.

The coffee pot beeped. Aaron made a split second decision, grabbing two mugs and pouring coffee into them. He slid Neil’s across the counter. It sloshed over the side, but Aaron wasn’t capable of caring at the moment. His mind was busy, and he knew Neil had noticed his lack of eye contact; the analytical fuck.

“Look,” Aaron said. He did not look at Neil to say it. “You’re annoying, and you never know when to shut your mouth or mind your business. Most of the time, I’m convinced you have a death wish, and a lot of the time I find myself resenting you. You complicated our lives, put us all in danger, didn’t give a shit.”

Neil’s chest hurt. He didn’t know if it was anger or guilt. Aaron started talking again before he could figure it out.

“But I don’t hate you. I can’t, really. I can’t even fault you for the shitty things you did, because it all worked out.” Aaron glanced quickly at Neil, looked away. His cheeks were red.

The thank you for helping repair my relationship with my brother and thank you for testifying and thank you for being good to Andrew went unsaid, but Aaron hoped Neil wasn’t obtuse enough to force him to say it out loud.

Neil must have understood, because he nodded. Aaron figured that was as close to a reconciliation they were going to have, so he leaned against the counter and pretended everything was normal.

For the first time, they drank their coffee in silence without animosity orchestrating it.

Neil’s mug was half empty when Andrew joined them. He paused in the doorway, squinty eyed and mussed, looking between the two. Neil on the counter, Aaron leaning against it. Their silence, but lack of tension.

“This is weird,” Andrew finally said, his voice gravely from sleep.

“Yeah,” Neil and Aaron said simultaneously.

Neil glanced over his mug at Aaron, the corner of his mouth twitching. Aaron regarded it, but looked away, because something like contentment had made its way onto Andrew’s face.

Aaron smiled at that instead.

[dandylovesturtles]

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

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

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

If you're lost, start here!

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wants to know. He dreads finding out.

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

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

No one comes for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until he’s sure no one is watching him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Raph hopes so…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That ain’t the same,” says Raph.

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

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

“April said pretty much the same thing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Pops.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leonardo-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leonardo-”

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

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

“Then why did you take my food!?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leo… doesn’t know what just happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you finished?” Draxum asks.

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

“Why are you helping me?” Leo asks.

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

“Why?” he repeats, more urgently. 

“Because you are my son.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he does what he does best and starts talking.

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You get bad feelings over everything.”

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

“This was just… a real bad feeling.”

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

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

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

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

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

“He better not, or Raph’ll hurt him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. Well. Bye.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” says his dad.

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

“Yes. You were right.”

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

His brothers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Probably.”

Raph frowns. “You don’t know?”

“I am not Micheal.”

“…So can you ask?”

“I suppose I can text him for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hangs up the phone. Raph scowls at it.

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

“I can eat these?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I borrowed it from Donatello’s lab.”

Leo whistles. “Without asking?”

“I don’t think he will mind.”

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

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

“…Should I?”

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

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

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

Leo slowly nods.

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

“Yeah, it’s like, starvation mode.”

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

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

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

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

Draxum shrugs. “He understands art metaphors.”

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

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

“Yeah, I think so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

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

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

“Is this forever?” he manages to ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Makes sense, I guess.”

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

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

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

“I heard you the first time.”

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

If you are hungry: eat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About an hour and twenty minutes, now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he’s gone, leaving Leo alone.

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It wasn’t, on my end,” says Draxum.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You felt it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If you are hungry: eat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But why would he be surprised by that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Maybe he’s still a little mad.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Everything?”

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

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

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

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

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

Raph snorts at the indignant look Draxum gives that remark.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I won’t. You have my word.”

Raph decides to take it.

-----

“Blue…? Are you awake?”

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

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

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

“Hey, Dad. Yeah, I’m awake.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh no, full name…”

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

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

“No. I told you that, remember?”

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

“Uh… besides stay there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he means that.

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s up?” asks Leo.

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

“Huh? How do you… know…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Donnie has cameras all over the lair.

Where are the cameras in here?

-----

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

[noirscript]

call avoidance.

Yandere Hotline: 3/?

featuring: implied drugging. implied tresspassing. lots of male masturbation. unsolicited phone sex (?). implied kidnapping. AFAB!Reader (yan calling reader mommy)

note: this is written while half-asleep. not edited. brain go brrr. i'll add the src some time.

Dealing with mad people can drive anyone insane. But if you're given a hefty sum to keep the insane ones company, you'll take. Life is tough, but you can choose your own hell.

"Got you some drink. Your favorite flavor," Heidi, your 'neighbor' in cubicle, said cheerfully as she placed the drink and sandwich on your spot.

"Well, who are we kidding." You shook your head before placing the plastic cup in your trash bin along with the tasty sandwich that came with it. "They're really persistent, you know?"

You smiled sheepishly as you arrange your cubicle to start a new day. Unlike your workmates, your place is quite neat and devoid of anything that would identify that spot as yours.

No personal images pinned on the corkboard. Not even a framed picture of whoever inspires you to get up and work hard without becoming insane yourself.

Upon accepting the job offer, you made sure to draw the most visible line to keep your personal life to yourself. You've heard some stories—some myths—about some agents disappearing without any trace overnight. Like they never existed in the first place.

"I hope they fuck off, you know?" You sighed before putting on your noise-cancelling headphones. "May we survive this shift," you grumbled as you wait for the first call with baited breath.

You have frequent customers. Most of them were pleasant to talk to. Let's just say that they're not exactly the dangerous type of callers. Those type clients were, most likely, drawn to the idea of being a 'yandere' as a fantasy. Sometimes, there's a hint of sexualization.

Almost every person on the floor are taking calls. Including you. However, your gut's been telling you to ignore the call. Maybe it's one of those unhinged callers who believes that you're theirs. Like they own you and all of your time.

You still have some available credits for call avoidance since you rarely used your credits. Surely, this one call will not affect your performance rating.

While waiting for the phone to stop ringing, you decided to clean up your work email. Being bombarded with useless newsletters about food and books on sale is the worse. Not only does it make your inbox crowded, it's also spammy.

You were fightung the urge to just select all and delete everything at once when you suddenly heard a notification. One after another.

One from your email, another one from your messaging app, and lastly—from the internal chatroom.

You opened the email with an attachment. It was a blank email but as soon as the preview for the attachment appeared, you almost gagged.

It was an image of a man's cock. There were translucent liquid splattered everywhere while the tip of his dick is on a cup—filled to the brim with iced coffee with foamy top. Your favorite.

Your hands were shaking as you exit the window of the website. You clicked the messaging app first. 'Perhaps it was just a promotional message from one of those companies.'

But no.

It was a message from a private number. You don't have any idea how they did it, but they kept sending you images. Most of them were blurry, but the ones with better quality almost made you vomit.

It was taken in a small room. At first, the room was dark, but eventually the image light up. His face was blurred, but you could clearly see what he was doing.

He was fucking your pillow. The one you've been using since you've moved in a better place with better security.

You were confused. And scared.

How could he easily enter your place? Your keys are with you and only the management has access to other duplicates.

"No way..." you whispered as you close the messaging app's window.

One bomb was dropped after another. And you knew something's off.

[NOTICE OF TERMINATION]

Due to multiple reports of call avoidance and drop calls, the management has decided to relieve you from your position as an agent effective immediately.

As we value your well-being, rest assured that you will be receiving your full payment for the next three months along with the other benefits that the company has sworn to provide you.

We sincerely appreciate your efforts for the last three years. We wish you all the best from this day forward.

You were devastated, yet relieved upon reading the letter. You've been wanting to receive this for months. It was the only way out of this place and this industry. You've also managed to save up a lot that you can start fresh somewhere. Far from this place.

Another phone call managed to bypass the automatic system of the place. You took a deep breath before accepting the call.

"Hello?"

"I can't... wait... haah..." the man on the line was clearly doing himself. By the eay he sounds, he's probably close. "We'll move to a big house... haah... hngg... a baby, a babyyy... nhnn... come home..."

Your eyes widened upon hearing your name. Not the screen name you gave them, but your legal full name.

"Let me... hngg... make you a mommy... d'you want that, huh?" You could a wet sloppy noises in the background. "Tiny baby... sucking on your tits... while I make a mess out of you?"

"Ap—"

"No need for... apologies..." he was breathing heavily. "I'll see you soon, okay?

"Heimdall."

He chuckled. "That's me, my princess... took you long enough to say my name."

"How did you get into my house?" you asked while gritting your teeth.

"Patience, my love. We could talk all about it once you're home. Should I get you something to eat? Chicken? Cake? Sandwich? Coffee?"

"I'm done with you."

You immediately pressed the end call button before gathering your things and left. Not even a farewell to your friends.

But there's something you should probably know.

Heidi can't wait to be an aunt and to be your sister-in-law!

[juniperskye]

I choose you.

Sneak peek: After a one-night stand, you find yourself pregnant. You choose to take some time off to get your life in order (aka ready for a baby), when Hotch stops by to make sure you’re okay. You confide in him and after a late night of talking, and months of mutual pining, Hotch offers to help you raise the baby. With this newfound dynamic, how will Hotch handle you working in the field? How will your lives change?

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader

Fluff/Angst

Word count: 7599 (OMFG sorry)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited I've been working on this for so long...I did my best- please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied age gap (kinda?), secret relationship, mention of period and menstrual cycle, mention of doctors and hospitals, mention of typical pregnancy related care, secret pregnancy, mention of pregnancy, Hotch being a little smothering lol, mentions of canon typical violence, some language, team members meddling, mention of Jack, no mention of Hailey (she just doesn’t exist in this – Hotch  has always been a single dad), no use of y/n. I think that’s all, let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Hey, you’re looking a little green there sugar.” Morgan said, gently nudging your elbow.

“Yeah girl, keep it to your side!” Emily laughed, pushing your file further onto your desk.

“Alright, if I was contagious, don’t you think you’d all be sick by now? It has to be from something I ate…I guess it’s time to clean out the fridge.” Shaking your head you got back to work.

“You know the most common causes of nausea and vomiting are infections (like the stomach flu), food poisoning, motion sickness, pregnancy, and migraines. We can rule out the stomach flu given that none of us have gotten sick, and motion sickness since we haven’t travelled in a few days. I’d say food poisoning seems most likely, and it should pass soon given that it typically lasts anywhere from 12-48 hours.” Spencer rattled off.

“Thanks Spence.” You smiled.

Your mind began spiraling, this little bout of vomiting had been going on for far longer than 48 hours. Was it possible something at home was contaminated and you’d had “never-ending” food poisoning? You thought about the other conditions Spencer had mentioned, no to the stomach flu, no to motion sickness, probably not food poisoning. You had migraines, but definitely weren’t currently suffering from a spell…so that left. Nope. No way.

Could it be possible? When was your last period? Shit. You pulled out your phone and opened the Flo app and your last charted period was…EIGHT WEEKS AGO. What the fuck? How had you missed that?  After pondering for a few minutes, you realized that around that time, the team had a particularly tough case where children were being kidnapped from malls in Alabama. The case had a happy ending, but it had taken seven days for you to catch the guy.  You had chalked up the missed cycle to stress – it happened sometimes.

After excusing yourself, you made your way to the bathroom. While in the bathroom, you made two calls, one to your primary care physician, and then one to the OBGYN that they referred you to. Thankfully (pure luck truly) they had an opening tomorrow morning.

You quickly made your way to Hotch’s office to see if he would allow you to come in late tomorrow. He was usually understanding about these things since you guys really have to take any doctor’s appointments you can get with your ridiculous schedule.

You knocked on the door frame softly, taking note of his nod, granting permission to enter. You walked cautiously to his desk, trying to work out the phrasing of this request in your head.

“I can hear the gears turning in your head, what’s going on?” Hotch questioned.

“Sorry Hotch, I uh, I just have a quick question for you.” You began. “You see, I haven’t been feeling great the last few days, so I called my doctor, and they can squeeze me in tomorrow first thing. Would it be possible for me to come in late so I can make that appointment?”

“Is that all? Of course, just come in when you can.” He finally met your gaze, offering a subtle smile.

**8 weeks pregnant**

You sat, bare legs causing the sterile paper beneath you to crinkle, the noise seemed to echo in the otherwise silent room. You had left a urine sample when you first arrived at the office, and they had just taken a blood sample. The nurse had asked you a million questions and you had to fill out nearly 20 different forms.

“Alright, so the urine test came back as positive for pregnancy.” The doctor informed you.

“Wow, um okay. So, what are the next steps?”

“Well, we are going to send your blood in to check your HCG levels amongst other things, that will give us a pretty good estimate as to how far along you are. We will give you a call when those results come in. I am going to send you home with some literature on what foods, medication, drinks, over all activities to avoid as well as some recommendations for prenatal vitamins and a prescription for some anti-nausea medication. There is also a card in there with the triage number in case of an emergency. So, what questions do you have for me?” The doctor concluded.

“I uh, when will I need to come back in? Also, I am a field agent with the FBI, I guess I’ll probably need a doctor’s note as proof of pregnancy, and then one later down the line I suppose, excusing me from duty.” You inquired.

“Once we get your HCG levels and can get a better idea of how far along you are, we will give you that call and then we will schedule your next appointment. Based on your last cycle, we will probably have you come back pretty soon for a transvaginal ultrasound and then your following appointment would be around your 12-week mark. As for work, I can get you that document now and then yes, as your pregnancy progresses we will discuss changes that will have to be made at work. Did you need a note for today?” She answered.

“Okay, that sounds good. And yeah, a note for today would be great. Thank you.”

Thoughts were racing through your head, the things you’d have to buy, getting your apartment prepared, telling the father (what was his name again…Michael? Brady? You’d have to figure that one out), telling your boss and the team, the changes to your body? Oh god, what have you gotten yourself into?

The second you stepped off the elevator your stomach twisted, and you darted to the bathroom. After emptying the contents of your stomach, you rinsed your mouth out and made your leave. What you weren’t expecting was Hotch on the other side of the door.

“Oh, sorry Hotch.”

“No need to apologize, I just wanted to see that you were alright. JJ let me know she saw you running in here.” He explained.

“I-I’m not feeling too great honestly. Do you think, maybe, I could head home for the day?” you queried.

“I think that is a good idea, you should get some rest. You know, you have a bunch of time off saved up – I’m not telling you to use it, but if you wanted to, it’s there. Do you need a ride home?” He asked.

“No, I think I’m okay. And I also think I am going to take you up on that suggestion. Do you think I could take like the next four days?”

“Absolutely, I’ll submit your time. You head home and get some rest. I’ll let Garcia know, that way she won’t call you if a case comes in.” He said.

“Thanks Hotch.”

“You’re welcome. Do me a favor, let me know when you get home safe.” He requested.

**9 weeks pregnant**

The next four days passed by in a blur, you had read through all the information the OBGYN sent you home with, you’d gone and picked up your medications from the pharmacy, cleaned your house, went grocery shopping, and you gotten your results back from the doctor. You had gotten the call yesterday that your HCG levels had placed you between 8 and 9 weeks pregnant and you had scheduled your ultrasound for the following Wednesday. You’d have to tell Hotch everything when you’re back at work tomorrow.

You also made a very awkward phone call to Jensen (damn, you were wayyy off) and he had been very pleased when you informed him that you didn’t want anything from him, he agreed that it would probably be best that way. You didn’t need to be tied to some one-off forever anyway, this was for the best. You just hoped your child wouldn’t resent you for not having a present father.

A knock at your door shook you from your thoughts. You checked your phone, 7:32 p.m. and a notification from Uber Eats that your tacos had been delivered! You paused your movie and shuffled to the door, checking the peephole once, then twice to confirm the identity of this visitor. You made quick work of unlocking and opening the door.

“Aaron? What are you doing here?”

“I came to see how you were feeling. I also ran into your delivery guy.” He explained.

“Come in, I ordered enough for two if you’re hungry?” You posed.

“I wouldn’t want to impose.” He shook his head.

“Not at all, come on in.”

You quickly realized that you were in sweats, a t-shirt, and slippers. You looked to Aaron taking note of his jeans and t-shirt. Casual looks good on him; you’d always thought so. You offered him a drink and invited him over to the couch, making yourselves comfortable and digging in. To the others, this may seem odd, a late-night taco date with your boss and your couch, but this was your normal.

You and Aaron had quickly realized your similarities when you first joined the team. You both had a stone exterior with a warm and fuzzy interior, you were closed off, but loyal and caring. These are the similarities that made your fast friendship so easy. The two of you hung out often, you had regular dinners together, went to movies or had movie nights, you went to the park with him and Jack, and sometimes…you even slept over. You didn’t share a bed or anything – except once when you first moved to your current apartment – your guest room hadn’t been set up yet. He was easily the person you were closest to, which is why it was terrifying to love him. You couldn’t lose him. So, you bottled up your feelings and enjoyed these moments with him.

“So, you’re feeling better then?”

You opened your mouth to reply when you felt it. That tightening lurch in your stomach. You brought your hand to cover your mouth and jumped up, desperate to get to your bathroom. You had barely made it before you were expelling your dinner into the porcelain bowl. You heaved until there was nothing left. It was only then that you felt the warmth of his hands brushing your hair back and rubbing circles over your spine. You slowly sat up and rested back against the bathtub, Aaron leaned against the counter.

“I guess it’s a good time to mention we have a mandated weekend off. I figured you were feeling better if you had ordered tacos.” Aaron teased.

“I was feeling better. And thank God. I could use the extra two days to get my shit together.” You laughed.

“What did the doctor say?” He questioned.

“Well, she uh…” You started.

“I shouldn’t have asked that, I’m sorry.” He apologized.

“No, Aaron it’s okay. I just – I found out that I’m pregnant.” You blurted.

“Oh, that’s – wow congrats. I didn’t realize you’d started seeing someone.” He muttered.

“Thanks, and I’m not. It was just some guy I met while we were in Alabama.” You grumbled.

With Aaron’s assistance, you made your way back to the couch, not before quickly brushing your teeth. After he saw that you were settled, he went to the kitchen and grabbed your anti-nausea pills, some crackers and a ginger ale for you.

The two of you sat and talked for hours, you told him about your doctor’s appointment and the phone call with Jensen. You expressed your excitement and nervousness, both of which he met with reassurance. Aaron was quick to tell you he thought you’d make a great mother and that he, along with the rest of the BAU, would be there for you every step of the way.

The night continued on with the two of you curled up on the couch watching movies, Aaron refilling your ginger ale as needed throughout the evening. Your position had shifted slightly the longer you sat there, you had laid down, your head resting on a pillow against Aaron’s thigh, his hand delicately running through your hair. You turned your head to look up at him, the movement drawing his gaze to you.

“Can I tell you something?” You asked.

“Anything.” He whispered.

“I’m scared to do this alone. I don’t want the kid to grow up and hate me because they don’t have a dad. Plus, I always thought when I had kids, I’d be settled…ya know?” You spoke softly.

“You’re not alone in this.” He replied.

“I know Aaron, that’s not what I meant.” you sighed.

“I could do it.”

“What?” You sat up abruptly, turning to look him in the eyes.

“I could raise the baby with you, I mean if you want. I just, I always wanted a big family, and Jack has asked about having a sibling on more than one occasion, plus we’re close already…” He rambled.

“You would do that for me?” You gasped.

“Of course I would, I’d do anything for you.” He smiled softly.

“So how would this work?” You questioned.

“It’s late, why don’t we head to bed, and we can talk logistics in the morning.” He said, patting your knee.

“Okay.” You smiled.

You woke up the next morning and had to remind yourself that last night was real, Aaron had in fact offered to raise your baby with you. You got out of bed and padded your way to the kitchen. Upon entering you were met with the sight of Aaron in his sweats and a T-shirt, gliding around your kitchen, making breakfast. This felt so domestic, and you couldn’t help the pain in your chest at the fact that this isn’t.

“Good morning!” You greeted.

“Good morning! How did you sleep?” He replied.

“I slept well thanks. You?”

“Pretty good actually. So, how are you feeling about my offer?” He queried.

“I’d like to take you up on it, as long as it’s still on the table. But I think we need to lay out some ground rules, or at least figure out how we would do this.” You explained.

“We’re doing this then! And I agree, we need to sort out all the details.” Aaron suggested.

Aaron and you talked about it a lot over the next few hours and had come to an agreement on nearly all subjects. Aaron would attend doctor’s appointments with you, the child would be raised by you and Aaron and for all intents and purposes, Aaron would be known as dad, when the kid is old enough, you agreed that honesty is crucial, and you’d explain that Aaron isn’t their biological dad. You had agreed on bringing the child up in a loving home and allowing your child to find their own way in religion and politics, neither of you fond of pushing either of those things on a kid. You had also agreed on the importance of education, family time, immunizations, etc.. There were a few things though, that you still weren’t sure of.

“So, Aaron, I guess I am just curious on how we would address a few things. Like with the team or anyone that asks – you’re the father? Or do we tell them there was a sperm donor? Are we honest about the situation? And what about us? Everyone is going to think we’re together. Also, the living situation, you mentioned you want to be around to help but going back and forth from my place to yours, it’s not fair to us or to Jack, what do we do?” You rattled on.

“Okay, slow down. I think with the team and family, we can tell them the truth…to anyone else, I’m the father. If that’s okay with you? For the living situation, I ugh well I was thinking, maybe we find a house? I know how crazy that sounds, but I would be closer to you to help out and Jack could be close to his sibling, at least for a while. It wouldn’t have to be permanent.” He let out a nervous chuckle. “As for us, I don’t want to complicate things sweetheart. I can’t say I’ve never thought about us…maybe we just take it day by day.” Aaron was trying to gauge your reaction.

“That all sounds perfect. We will take it day by day, see where this journey takes us.” You say, reaching to hold Aaron’s hand.

Aaron brings your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss to the back of it. You can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks. His admission of thinking of the two of you as more than friends, lingers in your mind. You wondered how long he’d been thinking like that but figured you could ask him another time. The bubble you were currently in was far too precious to burst.

“So, should we start house hunting?”

Aaron chucked at your excitement and nodded happily.

**15 weeks pregnant**

The two of you agreed to wait to tell the team, at least until you had settled into your roles as co-parents. You also wanted to wait until you had progressed further in your pregnancy before you shared the news with not only the team, but also Jack. You had expressed to Aaron that you were worried Jack wouldn’t take the news well and he had assured you that Jack would be thrilled with the prospect of having a sibling. Aaron had also informed you that Jack had asked if you could be his new mom once your friendship had grown.

Things had been going well, it had been almost two months since you guys had agreed to do this together and you couldn’t be happier. Aaron had gone to your appointments with you, and that’s where you were currently headed. You had your 15-week appointment today, you’d also be doing some tests to ensure the baby is healthy.

“Alright, did you guys want to find out the baby’s sex today?”

You looked over at Aaron, and he met you with a subtle nod of confirmation. You had discussed this on the way over today.

“Yes we would!”

“You are having a girl, congratulations!” The doctor smiled and made her leave.

Aaron was quick to lean down and embrace you. You were shedding tears of joy, beaming with excitement. He pressed a chaste kiss to your temple and pulled away.

“I wanted it to be a surprise, I scheduled a showing with our realtor. I think you’re really going to like this one!” Aaron gushed.

Aaron drove you over to the most adorable home, judging from the curb appeal, you were thinking his assumption was correct. He helped you out of the vehicle and led you into the home, your realtor was waiting for you just inside the foyer.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hotchner, welcome! Please take your time to look around, I will be in the kitchen if you need anything. Aaron, I am going to make a few calls and see what we’re looking at for this one.” Bradley informed.

The two of you agreed to act as a married couple when looking into homes, Aaron had suggested that newlyweds with a baby on the way might be more appealing to a seller. Though things between you definitely felt more like that was becoming your truth as opposed to this fantasy you’d act out when in the presence of Bradley.

Looking around, Aaron led you around the house, showing you each of the rooms on the first floor, then the second. You ended up in the master bedroom, making your way out on the balcony that overlooks the backyard.

“So, I was thinking, the two rooms downstairs, one would be my office, and the other could be a sort of den or library. Up here, Jack could have that first room, the second could be a nursery, and then the other two well they’d be ours, or one could be a guest room.” Aaron offered.

“If we made one a guest room, that would mean that we…we’d share this room? Aaron Hotchner are you suggesting that we share a room?” You teased.

“Maybe I am.” He declared.

You had been playing this game of cat and mouse for the last three weeks. It had started after you had kissed. It happened in the heat of the moment, the two of you were fighting over him subtly benching you from work, you had explained you were fine to which he admitted how important you were to him and that he couldn’t afford to lose you. Upon this revelation, you’d shared a passionate kiss. An action that you hadn’t discussed or repeated since then.

“Well, I think that could work.” You nudged him gently. “This house is perfect honey.”

“Should we go talk to Bradley?” He posed.

“I think so.”

**17 weeks pregnant**

“Can you come to my office please?” Aaron asked.

Naturally this caught the attention of the team. You could tell they were growing suspicious of you and Aaron. They used to make jokes about you guys dating all the time with how close you were, but now, taking time off together to go to doctor’s appointments and hushed conversations in his office. You were sure the team thought you two were together. And now, you guessed they weren’t exactly wrong.

“They are totally dating.” Emily insisted.

“No doubt about it. Last week they left early together on Thursday. I guess Hotch called Rossi and told him they wouldn’t be back, and Rossi said he could hear them giggling. He used those exact words.” Morgan explained.

“Hotch, giggling? No way!” JJ chimed in.

“When do you think they’ll finally come clean?” Emily wondered.

“Whenever they are ready, and none of you are going to push the issue.” Rossi declared.

The others grumbled in defeat as they returned to their tasks. Meanwhile, Aaron was informing you that Bradley had left him a voicemail, asking that the two of you return the call when you could.

“Hey Aaron, thanks for getting back to me. Listen I have good news, your offer went through. You guys got the house! I’ll email over some paperwork, and we will talk next steps soon.” Bradley rushed.

“Thank you Bradley, we appreciate it.” Aaron replied before hanging up the phone.

You shared a look before a cheerful squeal escaped your lips. You jumped into Aaron’s arms, hugging him tightly. He was quick to return it, rocking you back and forth gently.

“We got the house! I can’t believe it!”

“We did sweetheart! Do you want to come for dinner tonight, we can talk to Jack?” Aaron offered.

“That sounds great.”

You made your way back to your desk and caught the tail end of your team’s conversation. They had clearly been speculating about the nature of your relationship with Aaron, and after that little display in his office, you couldn’t blame them. You’d have to bring that up tonight, maybe it was time to come clean.

You were currently cooking dinner while Aaron helped Jack with his homework at the dining table. If this is the life you had to look forward to, you’d be a happy girl. You never felt more at home than when in the presence of the Hotchner boys. You finished up dinner and sent the boys to wash up while you set the table, they returned swiftly and the three of you began eating.

“Jack, bud, we have something we want to talk to you about.” Aaron began. “It’s pretty important and I’d really like you to let me tell you everything before you respond okay?”

“Okay.” Jack nodded, mouth full.

“You know how I’m having a baby right?” You gave him a moment to nod in reply.

“Well, that baby is going to be your little sister.” Aaron explained. “We are going to have this baby, and we’re all going to live together, in a new house. You’ll still go to the same school, but we will live in a house, all together instead of in the apartment.” Aaron concluded.

Jack’s eyes grew wide at the mass of information he’d just received. He glanced from you to Aaron and back to you once more. His mouth fell open, and he took a deep breath before speaking.

“So, does that mean you’re going to be my mom finally? Are you guys getting married? What does the house look like? Will I have to share a room with the baby? And where did the baby come from?” Jack rattled off.

“Oh, well sweetie this doesn’t necessarily mean…”

“Bud, go put your dish in the sink and change into your pjs. When you come back we will answer all of your questions.” Aaron instructed.

Jack shrugged and went first to the kitchen, then shuffled down the hall to change. Aaron knew it would take him a little bit, and he’d likely get distracted before returning, which meant he could talk to you about the first two of Jack’s questions.

“Sweetheart, if I am going to be the father of this baby, would you maybe consider being a mother to Jack? I know it is a lot, but with us living together and raising the baby together, it might make sense for me to formally adopt the baby and you to adopt Jack. That way we really could be a family. If anything happened to me, I would at least know that he’d have someone. He loves you so much and I love you, it just feels right, him wanting to call you mom.” Aaron blurted.

“Y – you love me?” You gasped.

Aaron blushed, having realized his slip up. “I do.”

“I love you too Aaron. And I would love for Jack to consider me his mom, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about us all being a real family like that. As for the adoption, that sounds perfect, I’d have to call Jensen and judging how our first conversation went, it should be a non-issue.” You noted.

“We would just have to get the papers drawn up for you to adopt Jack, his mother signed away her rights when she left us.” Aaron stated.

You looked at him with a saddened expression. The thought of leaving Aaron and Jack breaks your heart, you can’t imagine how she did it so effortlessly. Aaron could see the hurt behind your gaze, and he brought his hand up to caress your cheek, drawing a heat with it.

“Can we go back to a few minutes ago when we both said “I love you” for the first time” Aaron chuckled.

You let out a giggle and nodded, leaning in to meet him halfway for a passionate kiss. The two of you have kissed before, but never like this. Kissing someone who you love and that loves you in return, well that is pure bliss.

“Eww!” Jack shrieks, covering his eyes.

The two of you share a laugh and pull away. Aaron begins clearing the table while you go to get Jack.

“Eww? Eww? Come here buddy! Let me give you a big smooch!” You laughed reaching for Jack.

His laughs rang through the apartment as you jokingly chased him around the living room. When you finally caught up to him, you wrapped your arms around him a pressed a dramatically loud kiss to his cheek. Jack feigned disgust and wiped his cheek off as Aaron entered the room, joining the two of you on the couch with a big smile on his face.

“Alright buddy, I want to answer some of your questions okay?”

“Okay dad.”

“So, let’s start with the house, you are going to have your own room. The house is big with a yard that we can practice soccer in and a pool for us to swim! You will get to see the house soon; we are going to move in just a few weeks.” Aaron explained.

“As for me bud, if you want to call me mom you absolutely can. We aren’t getting married just yet, but we are a family sweetie.” You gently ruffle his hair.

“Okay mom, but you didn’t answer my last question! Where do babies come from?”

Your heart soared at the name, but both you and Aaron choked at his question.

“Uh, we will talk about that when you’re a little older. Go get ready for bed.”

**26 weeks pregnant**

You were nearing week 26 of your pregnancy and you knew, beyond a doubt, that the entire team knew you were pregnant, you hadn’t really been hiding it other than some loose-fitting tops. None of them said anything, but they were all doing everything in their power to make sure you were comfortable, safe, and feeling well in the office and even more so in the field. 

On your last case, the whole team worked to keep you stuck in the local precinct as to avoid any potential harm. You knew they were just being protective, but your doctor said you were fine to continue field work for at least a few more weeks. You wanted to work while you still could, and you decided to talk to Aaron about finally coming clean to the team.

“Hey, can I talk to you really quick?” You asked, entering his office.

“Am I talking to you as your boss or as your significant other?” He questions.

“Both I guess? Aaron, I think we need to tell the team. They already know I’m pregnant, that I am sure of. But they are acting like I am made of glass, and I would really like to keep working while I still can.” You declared.

“Sweetheart I can’t say I am particularly upset about everyone being extra cautious for you. I want you safe, and they do too. But if you’re ready to tell them, then let’s tell them.” He admitted.

Aaron called the team to the round table so the two of you could come clean about everything. In the last 18 weeks, your lives had drastically changed for the better, and they’d only continue to do so, so it was only right that you have your BAU family involved and around for the joy to come.

“I called you all in here because we have some news we’d like to share with you all.” Aaron said, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You smiled up at him before continuing. “I am pregnant, as you all already seem to know…but that’s not all.” You and Aaron told the team about your relationship, the pregnancy and how it came to be, Aaron stepping in and being the father, the new house and how you moved in together, you told them everything.

The team met you with shocked expressions, before they bombarded you with congratulations, embraces, and some questions. They asked about Jack and his reaction, they asked about the baby’s biological father, and they asked if an engagement was coming soon.

You had explained that the adoption process had already begun for Aaron and the baby, that Jensen was more than willing to waive his parental rights. You’d also told them how Jack started calling you mom and you were planning to ask him if you could adopt him officially in a few weeks and Aaron said an engagement would occur soon enough as long as you’d have him.

To close out your family meeting, you’d politely asked everyone to remember that you were pregnant, not incompetent, and you would appreciate it if they would let you work like normal (mostly) for the last few weeks you’d be able to. They agreed with some apprehension as long as you’d be careful and let the others lead.

**33 weeks pregnant**

The team had travelled to Colorado for a case, you knew that this would be one of the last times you’d get to travel with the team, so you were going to give this case your all.

For the last month, Aaron had definitely broken his promise and was keeping you on a tight leash. You knew he was only protecting you, but you wanted to do your job. You were damn good at it, and you weren’t going to let anyone tell you otherwise.

“Alright, you are going to stay here and work on the geographical profile with Reid, and I am, going to the latest crime scene with Morgan.” Aaron stated.

“I’d like to go with Morgan actually. I think that my skills would be better suited that way.” You disputed, sending a glare Aaron’s way.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea…” Aaron started.

“Hotch. Let me do my job.”

“Okay go. Be careful, please.” Aaron pleaded.

Morgan drove you to the latest crime scene and you both looked around observing all of the evidence markers and trying to gather as much information as you could. The two of you were bouncing ideas off of one another when glass breaking sounded downstairs.

Morgan brought a finger to his lips signaling to be silent. You both raised your weapons and made your way to the landing. Morgan leaned around the corner to see if he could catch a glimpse of the intruder from the top of the stairs. When it came up empty, he motioned that he was going downstairs, silently telling you he’d let you know when it was safe to follow.

You didn’t move until Morgan signaled for you to do so. When he did, you carefully made your way downstairs. He went left and you went right, making your way through the first level of the home you noticed a broken lamp next to an open window in the living room.  Before you had a chance to react, a man grabbed you from behind, his arm wrapping around your throat and his gun pressed to your temple.

“Call out to your partner.” He hissed, pressing the gun further into your skin.

“Morgan, in the living room!” You called.

“Did you find someth-” Morgan trailed off, seeing the unsub holding you. “Woah, okay. We don’t want any trouble okay. You can let her go. We can get you whatever you want man.” Morgan offered.

“DON’T TRY TO PLAY GAMES WITH ME!” The unsub bellowed.

“We’re not – trying to play games with you. We just want everyone to leave here unharmed.” You tried to console the unsub.

“NO! LOOK AT HIM! HE’S GONNA TRY AND SHOOT ME THE SECOND I LET YOU GO! I’M NOT FUCKING STUPID!” The unsub cried.

You could tell he was devolving; he was young, intimidated and sick of being pushed around by men in positions of power. Most notably, his father.

“You’re right. He probably will try and shoot. He’s cocky like that. Always walking around like he’s a gift from God himself. Barking orders at his subordinates and making passes at any female employee. It makes me sick.” You played into his delusions.

“He treats you like that?” The unsub wavered.

“He does. And I can’t stand it! I am sick of being treated like I’m less than. Like I’m not good enough to be here! I deserve more, you deserve more. We are strong and capable, and we should be treated as such.” You continued to work this unsub while Morgan slowly moved into position.

“You’re right! If you can see that, why couldn’t he? Why couldn’t he see that I am enough!” The unsub sobbed, his hands dropping to his sides.

Morgan swooped in and handcuffed him after gently grabbing his gun from his hand. The unsub sobbed quietly, realizing the error of his ways. You moved to sit in a nearby chair and Morgan pulled out his phone to call for backup.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked, rushing to your side. “This is exactly why I didn’t want you coming with Morgan.”

“Aaron, honey, I’m okay!” You reassured him.

“Hotch, your girl single handedly talked the guy off the ledge. She’s the reason we’re all safe.” Morgan explained.

Aaron looked at you once again. Taking in every part of your body to ensure you had no injuries. He gently takes your chin between his index finger and thumb to glance at your right temple, making a note of the slight bruise that’s developing there.

“I want you to get checked out before we go home.” Aaron informed.

“Okay.” You said, knowing arguing wouldn’t get you anywhere.

After spending far too long at the hospital, you were headed back to the hotel with a clean bill of health for both you and your baby girl. Aaron’s hands hadn’t left you since he’d rushed to your side at the crime scene. They were either holding your own, pressed to the small of your back, or resting on your leg. You knew he was just trying to ground himself in the fact that you were safe.

That night you and Aaron shared a conversation about you going on desk duty for the next few weeks, before your maternity leave started. He was a bit shocked that you didn’t fight him on it…not even a little bit.

**39 weeks pregnant**

You had been on maternity leave for all of five days and you were already out of your mind. The only thing you were grateful for was the fact that you got to spend so much time with Jack.

Your adoption of him had been finalized two weeks ago and everything was done regarding Aaron adopting the baby. Now, you were just awaiting the arrival of your daughter. You were more than ready for her to be here and out of your body, and while the pregnancy hadn’t been particularly difficult, you were exhausted and bloated and just ready to be done.

You were in the kitchen making lunch for Jack and you while he played in the living room. He’d requested a grilled cheese sandwich with some tomato soup. You had just flipped the sandwich when a contraction hit. The pain washed over you, radiating down your spine and through your pelvis. You took a deep breath and check the time, they were about fifteen minutes apart right now, the contractions kept you up all night and had been consistent all day.

“Okay bud, lunch is served!” You set his food down in front of him on the coffee table.

“Thanks mom!” He smiled, taking a big bite of grilled cheese.

“You’re welco-” a sharp hiss escaped your mouth.

Checking the clock again you realize it’s only been about five minutes since the last one. You take a few deep breaths and look around for your phone, it might be time to text Aaron.

“Mom, are you okay?” Jack asked.

“Yeah bub I’m okay. I think your sister is getting ready to come.” You explained.

“Really? I can’t wait to meet her!” Jack cheered, resting one of his hands on your swollen belly.

“I can’t wait either. Jack, could you uh – could you go grab my phone hon?” You requested.

“Okay!” He wandered over to the kitchen to grab your phone.

You felt another contraction coming on and realized that they were coming one after another in shorter bursts of times. You needed to get to the hospital.

Jack returned from the kitchen with your phone and handed it to you. You were quick to dial Aaron’s number.  It rang three times before he picked up.

“Hey sweetheart. Is everything okay?” He questioned.

“Yeah honey, it – it’s time. She’s coming.”

“Now? How far apart are your contractions? Did your water break? Are you in pain? Should I call an ambulance to come and take you to the hospital?” Aaron rattled off question after question.

“Aaron, baby, contractions are three minutes apart now, my water hasn’t broken, I’m not in too much pain, and please don’t call an ambulance. I will drive myself and Jack to the hospital. Meet us there.”

“I will sweetheart. The go bag is on the floor of the closet, on the right side. And the car seat has already been installed. I am leaving right now.” Aaron promised.

“Okay! See you soon.”

**36 weeks pregnant**

“Mrs. Hotchner, can we go swimming?” Henry asked.

“Of course, bud, you boys go get your swim trunks on and I will get Nora changed. Okay?” You looked at the three boys for confirmation.

After they all shouted okay, they ran to Jack’s room and the bathroom to change, you walked with Nora upstairs to help her change into her swimsuit.

“Alright bug, pink or green?” You asked her.

“No. Blue momma, blue!” Nora demanded.

“Okay bug, blue suit.” You agreed.

You got Nora changed and brought her into your room, before you changed into your own bathing suit in the on-suite bathroom. When you exited, you grabbed Nora and then made sure the boys were all ready and that they had put on sunscreen. The five of you made your way outside, the boys were quick to jump straight into the pool, and you made sure to put on Nora’s swimming vest.

Aaron stepped away from the grill and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed a sweet kiss on your shoulder before leaning down and kissing Nora’s head. He went back to the grill and got it cleaned and ready for the burgers you were making tonight.

“JJ texted and said her and Will were on their way. She said to thank you again for picking the boys up from school.” Aaron let you know.

“She doesn’t need to thank me.” You scoffed. “The boys all go to the same school and with me on maternity leave, I have nothing better to do.” You laughed.

“I’m excited to see the team, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together.” Aaron sighed, slipping into the pool with you.

“I know honey. We’ve all just been so busy…that’s why it’s taken this long for us to do this reveal” You hugged him. “Do you regret taking the promotion?”

“Not for even a second. It has allowed me more time with you and the kids. I got to see almost all of Nora’s milestones, and I am so excited for this little one to join us here soon.” Aaron said caressing your belly once more.

“I can’t wait either.” You smiled.

One by one the team began filing in through the back gate. Derek and Savanah had come in with Hank. JJ and Will had come in and were quick to greet their sons. Emily, Spencer and Penelope arrived all at once saying their hellos and quickly getting into the pool. And Rossi arrived last, he set the cake and wine in the kitchen and made himself comfortable in the lounge chairs on the deck.

Time passed in slow motion, you made conversation with those around you and ate dinner (Aaron and Derek standing over the grill drinking beer…they were arguing over how long to cook the burgers). Everyone got out of the pool and as the adults sat on the lounge chairs, the kids ran around in the yard, playing soccer.

“Are you guys ready?” Dave asked

After you and Aaron nodded, Dave went to grab the cake. You called everyone over to the table and let them know that you chose to reveal the gender this way because you didn’t want some big flashy party, but rather to be surrounded by loved ones.

“So, there’s one other announcement I’d like to make before we do the gender reveal.” You began. “I will not be returning to the BAU after the birth.”

A chorus of “what do you mean” and “why” and “that’s not funny” rang out around you. This was something that you’d been at war with yourself over for the entirety of this pregnancy. Aaron taking the promotion to a director position, it had shockingly allowed him more time with your family, and it provided a safety that his previous position had hindered. It was a culmination of those facts that led you to your decision.

“What does this mean though? What are you going to do?” Spencer was the one to ask.

“I’m going to teach.” You smiled. “I was offered a position, within the FBI, to teach. You guys will still get to see me, and we will still host everyone, but the hours are better, and they’ll allow me more time at home.”

The team exchanged solemn expressions, but ultimately wished you well. They let you know that they’d miss you and the team wouldn’t be the same without you, but they understood.

“Okay! Sorry. Onto a much happier topic – the gender reveal of our baby!” You exclaimed.

Aaron and you each took a wine glass and held them upside down over opposite edges of the cake. The team counted down 3…2…1…and you and Aaron plunged the glasses into the cake. You each brought the glasses up and held them out in front of you, confusion etched on the faces of those standing before you.

“OH MY GOD! It’s twins! It’s twins isn’t it!” Penelope shouted with glee.

In front of you, enclosed in the wine glass were layers of chocolate cake intermixed with blue frosting. And in front of Aaron was a glass housing chocolate cake with pink frosting. The two of you shared a look, one that held nothing but love and adoration for one another and the beautiful life you’ve built with one another. You loved each other more than anything and your growing family was proof of that, Jack and Nora had been thrilled that they’d be getting both a little brother and sister, and in just a few short weeks, they’d make their debut.

[lyak12]

Just friends

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Summary: Lucy has been your girlfriend for three years already, but lately, she's spending more time with Ona than with you. Is she falling out of love with you?

Word count: almost 4.2k

A/N: I'm back with another Lucy fic:) Thanks to @helen-with-an-a for the inspiration:) I still have a few requests that I want to finish soon, but I'm currently swamped with uni stuff... so be patient with me. Also, there is a happy end cause my heart can't take pure Angst hahaha. I hope you enjoyy

Warnings: Anxiety, struggling with self-worth, concussion, vomiting, angsty in general, if I missed something lmk:)

Living in sunny Barcelona, playing for one of the best clubs in the world and all of that with the love of your life. A pretty perfect life one would say. Well, currently, you are feeling none of that.

You are insecure. You always have been, but normally, Lucy is quick to pull you out of that mindset. You’ve struggled with self-worth your whole life. Always thinking everyone is better than you. It has gotten better since you started dating Lucy over three years ago, but one of your biggest insecurities is still that she’ll get sick of you and leave you for someone better.

You know Ona is just a friend. She’s Spanish and they’re really close, so of course there will be lots of physical contact. You don’t mind that. You’re not jealous. You’re just scared Lucy will fall out of love with you and in love with Ona.

All the edits on Tiktok and insta were not helping. It got so bad that Lucy tried to block the hashtags on your accounts. It worked for a while but not long.

As Lucy spends the third afternoon in a row with Ona, you start to get even more insecure and a bit pissed to be honest. “Again? I thought we wanted to go to the beach today”, You ask a bit annoyed. “Am I not allowed to spend time with my friends anymore?”, Lucy asks defensive, not liking your tone. You just sigh and say, “Never mind, have fun”, you say and go into the bedroom.

Lucy doesn’t bother to come after you. You have been having the same discussion for days already. Lucy completely oblivious to the fact that your anxiety is bad at the moment, instead thinking you’re jealous. You change into some shorts and a crop top before going back into the living room, ready to take Narla to the beach instead. However, Narla is gone, too. Lucy must’ve taken her with her to Ona.

Great, you don’t even have your cuddle buddy now. Sighing again, you dry the tears that have escaped your eyes. You grab a hat and sunglasses and go to the beach on your own. Needing to spend your time somehow and the beach and ocean help clear your head.

You get home late, just needing the time to think. “Where have you been?”, is the first thing you hear when you get in before you come face to face with an angry Lucy and an excited Narla. “The beach”, you just say as you squat down to greet the dog. “Until now? You couldn’t look at your phone? I was worried out of my mind!”, Lucy asks loudly.

“I haven’t looked at my phone since I left the house”, you just say without looking at the brunette. “Y/N I’m talking to you! I was worried”, She says angrily. You flinch slightly at her tone. The tears you worked so hard to fight back threatening to escape. You look up and say “I’m sorry. I needed to think. I didn’t realize how late it was getting “, you say quietly, trying to stay busy with scratching Narla’s little belly.

“Next time, look at your phone”, Lucy just says and turns around before getting back to the couch. You cuddle Narla a bit longer, the Westie noticing the inner turmoil in you.

Eventually, you stand up and head into the living room as well. “How was your time with Ona?”, you ask quietly. “You gonna get jealous again if I say good?”, Lucy grumbles. “Lucy, I’m not jealous!”, you say defensively.

“Oh really? Then why are we having this same fight over and over again?”, she asks, looking at you. “Because you’re spending every free minute with her. It’s like you’re attached at the hip. I’m sorry I want to spend time with you too”, you argue.

“Yeah sure, that’s the reason. I’m sorry I’m spending time with my friends. Damnit, Y/N! It’s obvious you’re jealous, at least own up to it!”, Lucy yells, and that cuts deep. That sentence just lets something snap in you. “You want me to own up to it? Fine! I’m NOT fucking jealous Lucy! I’m scared. I’m scared you’re falling in love with Ona! I’m scared you’ll drop me as soon as she says yes”, you yell with tears streaming down your cheeks, letting yourself be vulnerable in front of Lucy.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous! Ona and I are friends, and that’s it! You should hear yourself. It’s absurd. Stop making a big deal out of nothing”, Lucy dismisses your fear. She has never done that before. She knows how your mind works and what she just said will make you spiral. Apparently, though, she doesn’t care.

You just look at her and dry your tears roughly. Giving her a nod before you head away from her. “Where are you going?”, Lucy asks, confused. She can see you’re still angry. “Why do you care? I thought I’m just being dramatic”, you snarl as she notices that her choice of words maybe were not the smartest.

“Y/N”, Lucy tries half-heartedly. “No. Not once have you treated me like this. You act like I’m not even here! You don’t pay attention unless I’m saying something about Ona. You know how much that hurts?”, you yell tearfully. “Now you’re exaggerating…”, Lucy says with an eye roll. You just look at her in disbelief and give her a nod. You swallow hard and say “I’m going to bed.”

With that, you leave her alone in the living room and head to the bedroom. Normally, you never go to bed angry. That is one rule that’s important to both of you. Well, tonight, the rule will be broken. By the time she comes to bed, you act like you’re asleep already. She still kisses your head, but you just pull away from her slightly.

You hear her sigh softly, but she doesn’t say anything. Eventually, you fall into a restless sleep.

As the alarm goes off the next morning, Lucy turns it off, and you just sigh. “Good morning”, Lucy says gently. “Morning”, you just grumble before you sit up with your back to her. “Seriously? You’re still pissed? Come on, it’s getting ridiculous”, Lucy says with an eye roll. You turn to her and say “Even if I wouldn’t be pissed anymore, I would be again after this comment. But yeah, of course I’m the ridiculous one. Because God forbid your stubborn brain could acknowledge that maybe you’re not as innocent as you tell yourself you are.”

You just get up and get into the bathroom. Lucy doesn’t say anything and just sighs. She really does not understand what your problem is. You get ready separately, but you’re not hungry, so you just grab a protein bar and gel to eat before practice.

The drive to the training grounds is quiet. You don’t say a word. Once in the locker room, you quickly change, but your teammates notice the tension between the two of you.

Mapi comes in just as you’re almost done changing. “Oh trouble in paradise?”, she asks with a slight tease. As an answer, you just grab your boots and drinks before walking out of the locker room.

Mapi just looks concerned at Lucy, the teasing smile wiped from her face. You normally enjoy Mapi’s teasing or at least chuckle slightly. “She’s been like that since we fought last night”, Lucy says with a soft sigh. “Last night?”, Alexia asks. Most of your team knew your rule to never go to bed angry. So as Lucy nods, most of them look concerned at each other. This has to be a bad fight.

Everyone can tell you’re not in the mood during practice. You play a lot more aggressively than usual. But not the type of aggressive that would hurt another.

You’re pushing yourself hard today, just needing to get out the frustration somehow. As you do a quick round of scrimmage halfway through practice, you run into the box to be on the end of a nice cross from Frido. However you’re a bit late, so you jump in at full speed, trying to find the ball and head it in. One of those flying headers Lucy is known for. Ona, however, is there to defend you, and since she’s running backwards, she doesn’t see you throwing yourself in for the ball.

You crash together, and the collision makes you hit the ball with your temple, unable to get it into the goal. You both land on the ground roughly, you a few feet away from Ona because of the speed you had come with.

You both groan for a moment, stars appearing in front of your eyes momentarily, your head throbbing. You close your eyes for a second, but as you hear Lucy’s voice, you open your eyes. However, her question, if you’re okay, is not directed at you. She is squatting next to Ona. That was it. Yes, Ona was lying closer to Lucy, but still.

“You okay?”, Frido asks you softly, and you just mumble “I’m fine.” You get up as Lucy walks up to you, resting a hand on your shoulder, but you immediately shrug it off and say “Don’t touch me. Don’t act like you care now.” The team has never seen you so angry. You just walk away from the brunette and make your way back to your position.

You high five Ona, not angry at her for the tackle. You squeeze the bridge of your nose slightly as you walk back. God, your head is throbbing. Your world is spinning, and you’re not feeling good at all. You try to shake it off, but Alexia can tell, so she rests a hand on your shoulder and asks “You okay, y/n/n?”

You don’t answer her trying to gather yourself. However, you only drop to all fours a few steps later as the dizziness becomes too overwhelming. “Y/N!”, Alexia yells and quickly waves the physios over.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”, the Physio asks, and you can only mumble “Dizzy, head throbbing.” Your ears were ringing slightly as you struggle to keep your composure. They look into your eyes and can see that they are unfocused. “Where did you hit the ball?”, he asks softly, having an idea what might be going on.

Your hand moves to your temple and the spot right next to your ear as you almost lose balance and face plant the grass. The physios steady you, and he says, “Yeah, that might be a concussion, let’s get you off the field and checked out.”

“Let me help”, Lucy says, wanting to help you up. “No, please just leave me alone”, you shrug off her hands with tears in your eyes. Alexia steps in and pulls you to your feet before guiding you to the physio room.

“What happened between you? Talk to me”, Alexia asks on the way, knowing the tears are from the emotional pain, not the physical. “We fought badly. She’s been spending a lot of time with Ona lately and ditches our plans for her. You know I’m not jealous. I know they’re just friends, but I’m scared Lucy is starting to fall in love with her and just waits to drop me. However, she completely dismisses my concern, telling me I’m ridiculous and dramatic. I don’t want her here. It’s like I’m not even there anymore. It's always just Ona”, you tell her tearfully, she wraps you in her arms for a second while you sob.

After a minute, you get it together, and Alexia presses a kiss to your head. “I know me saying this won’t help, but Lucy only has eyes for you, but I understand. I tell her not to come in here, but you gotta promise me you’ll talk to each other, okay?”, She says seriously. You just nod before you lie back on the physio bed.

Alexia leaves, and the physio checks you for a concussion. “So you said you’re head hurts and you’re dizzy, any other symptoms?”, he asks softly, shining a light into your eyes. “Nausea, sensitivity to light. I feel a bit out of it”, you answer, and he just nods. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is a mild concussion. The ball really hit you on an unfortunate spot. You should feel better after a few days, but for now let’s get you home and get some rest. No straining activities, keep yourself hydrated, and get some sleep, alright?”, he asks, and you nod.

He helps you get changed before driving you home. The motion of the car makes the nausea so much worse that you throw up as soon as you're home. You try to rest and sleep, but your head won’t let you. The thoughts just crashing on each other making you restless, so you pull on your sunglasses and a hat, grab your headphones to dampen the sounds and make your way to one of your favorite spots at the beach. It’s not a long walk, so you’re fine. The area is usually not filled with many people, so you just lean against the railing and look out on the sea as you sink into your thoughts.

Meanwhile, Alexia walks back out to see everyone have a small water break. Lucy is standing with Keira and Ona, nibbling on the bottle nervously. “How is she?”, she asks Alexia, concerned. “She’s hurt, not just physically. Lucy, what the hell is going on with you? You know how Y/N is, you can’t tell her she’s dramatic and ridiculous, thinking she won’t spiral”, Alexia says a bit angry. Everyone on the team knows that you need reassurance, especially when those thoughts in your head get too loud. And they all could see that was the case lately. “What?”, Keira and Ona ask at the same time as they look at Lucy disappointed. “She was going on and on about how I keep spending time with you and never with her. I just figured she was jealous, and it isn’t a big deal. And as she told me she’s scared I will fall in love with you just something in me snapped, I couldn’t stop it”, Lucy tries to argue quietly as she looks at Ona, but she knows she’s in the wrong here.

Alexia just smacks her hard in the back of the head and grumbles “Estúpida!” “Lucy, her logical brain knows that there is just friendship between us. But you know how insecure she can get, and it’s been getting worse again lately. You should’ve been more attentive”, Ona says, disappointed. “Yeah you better fix this before it's too late”, Keira says seriously, and Lucy just sighs, realizing that she really messed up. “Right now she doesn’t want to see you, I think she has a mild concussion so give her some space, but you guys gotta talk tonight”, Alexia says and gives the brunette a little shove back onto the field.

At the end of practice, Lucy immediately runs to the physio room, but you’re gone. „Where is she?“, Lucy asks the physio as he comes in. „I drove her home. She needs rest“, he says, and she just looks worried at him. „Lucy, relax. It’s just a mild concussion. The ball just hit her at the wrong spot. She’ll be okay in a few days“, he says reassuringly, but it does little to calm her worries. She pushes her hair out of her face and takes a deep breath. „I know, I just really messed up. Thank you for driving her home. I gotta go“, Lucy says and jogs into the locker room. Changing with the speed of light before grabbing her bag and running out again. She doesn’t have time for a shower. She needs to get to you.

Speeding home, she runs in and looks around for you, but the apartment is empty. Grabbing her phone, she calls Alexia. „She’s not here“, Lucy says as soon as Alexia picks up. „Lucy, calm down. What?“, Alexia says, still in the locker room with most of the girls. Ona and Keira look up as Lucy‘s name falls, coming a bit closer so they can hear too. „She’s not here. Y/N is not here. She was told to rest, where is she? What if something happened?“, Lucy asks, worried. Rechecking all the rooms. „Hey Luce, calm down. Come on, take a deep breath“, Ona says, and Lucy rubs a hand over her face before taking a deep breath. „Think. Is there any place Y/N could be? Any place she likes to go to think?“, Keira asks gently but worried about you as well.

The line is silent for a moment as Lucy tries to think. „Isn’t there a spot at the beach close to your apartment that she likes?“, Alexia asks as she remembers you telling her about something like that. „Yeah, I think I know where she is. I‘ll keep you updated, thank you“, Lucy says and hangs up before she grabs her keys and phone and is out the door again. Leaving a completely confused Narla behind.

She sends a quick text to Ona and asks her if she could take Narla out while she was looking for you, which she, of course, does. She runs almost the whole way to the beach. As she gets to the part where it is quiet and especially during this time empty, she sees you leaning at the railing. She sends a quick „I found her“, message to the three girls and packs her phone away. Catching her breath, she slowly approaches you.

„What are you doing here?“, you just ask without looking at the brunette. You know exactly who it is without having to take a look. „I wanted to make sure you’re okay“, Lucy says softly, taking your headphones from your ears carefully. You look at her, your eyes hiding behind your sunglasses. „As you can see I’m fine“, you just say.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Can we please talk?”, Lucy asks softly. “What? You just wanna tell me I’m ridiculous again? I can deal without, thank you”, You just say and turn to look out to the sea again. “Hey, no”, Lucy says and guides your chin back to look at her. She pushes your sunglasses up to look into your eyes and says honestly “I messed up badly, and I’ve been an ass. I didn’t pay attention and did not treat you like you deserve. I’m sorry. I know a simple I’m sorry won’t do it, but I need you to know that.”

“You know how disgusting it feels to be treated like you make a big deal out of nothing, when it’s all you can think about? When your insecurities and anxiety get dismissed with a simple, you’re being ridiculous? You know how I am Lucy. My logical brain knows that Ona and you are just friends. A simple reassurance and afternoon spend together would’ve fixed everything, but instead, you had to treat me like a piece of shit. Like I’m just this jealous clingy girlfriend. Do you know how much that hurt? To feel like you’re throwing three years away just like that? I’m not asking you to stop spending time with her or not checking on her when she goes down during practice, but, for fucks sake, don’t take me for granted. I don’t need much, but if you want this relationship, you gotta treat me with the respect and love I deserve. Because I can’t take whatever this is much longer. Love me or leave me, that simple”, you tell her as tears start to fall from your eyes. The more words leave your mouth the more tears fall.

She knows how fast you can spiral, but she hasn’t expected it to be this bad. She gently dries your tears as she starts to tear up a bit herself. “Y/N I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I acted like that. I should’ve seen how much my behavior hurt you. Instead, I just kept going and didn’t pay attention. I was wrong, and you didn’t deserve that. I never wanted you to even think about doubting that my love for you is still there. I messed up, and yes, I took you for granted without noticing, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. Y/N, I love you. I love you so much, and I don’t know how my head got so messed up that I stopped trying to show that to you. I’m truly sorry, I promise to make it up to you if you let me. I promise, I love you like you deserve because you deserve the world, my love”, Lucy says honestly, and you just hiccup slightly, trying not to sob. This is all you needed to hear, but you spiraled so deep you’re not sure if you can trust her words.

“Are you just saying this, or is this the truth?”, you ask tearfully. “It’s the truth, please let me make it up to you and love you like you deserve”, Lucy says softly, scared that she really messed up so bad that she’s past the point of a second chance. “Okay”, you mumble quietly, praying you won’t regret trusting her. You’re just in a bad place mentally, and it’s hard to even trust Lucy.

As she hears the okay, she’s quick to pull you into her arms and kisses your forehead. She holds you close, and you cling to her, crying into her chest. Tears are falling down her cheeks as well, but her focus is on you. She needs to take care of you now, treating you like you deserve.

It takes you a few minutes to calm down, Lucy’s heartbeat being able to pull you out of those dark clouds in your head and into a more relaxed state. But that also makes you feel the symptoms of the concussion again. It’s a blessing and a curse. You squeeze your eyes shut as your world spins.

Lucy can tell how unsteady you’re getting, so she just tightens her grip on you and says “Shh, I got you, my love. Let me take care of you.” You just clutch her shirt tightly, leaning on her heavily. Your head pounding. “Let’s get you home. You want me to call a cab to get us home?”, Lucy asks softly as she kisses your head. “No, the motion makes me throw up. I’ll be okay, just give me a minute”, you mumble and try to breathe through the pain and dizziness.

“Take your time, I’ll carry you if you need me too”, Lucy says, and you know she will, but it’s a 15-minute walk to your shared apartment. “Yeah and then you won’t be able to walk for the next three days because of your knee”, You tease weakly. Lucy can’t help but smile at this slight return of banter. “It’s worth it for you”, Lucy just says with a soft shrug and smiles before she kisses your forehead.

You just smile softly and rest against her for a moment longer, taking a few deep breaths. “Okay, I’m ready”, you mumble, and Lucy wraps an arm around your waist to steady you while you make your way home slowly. “When you need a break, tell me”, Lucy says and kisses your temple gently, and you nod.

To be fair, by the time you’re almost home, she is half carrying you. You’re exhausted and definitely pushed yourself too hard today after your concussion. The nausea gets worse the more you walk, so barely five minutes away you stop Lucy and start to throw up again into the grass without much of a warning. “Okay, I got you, love. Deep breaths”, Lucy says, gathering your hair and rubbing your back while keeping you steady. There is not much for you to throw up, so you calm down quickly, but your legs are threatening to give out.

“Do you want me to carry you on my back or bridal style? What do you think will make you less dizzy?”, Lucy asks, it’s not a question of if. It’s how you want to be carried. “Bridal”, you just mumble quietly. Being able to hide your face in Lucy’s neck sounds amazing. She picks you up immediately and carries you the rest of the way home. Did her knee protest a bit? Yes, but she’d do it all over again without a thought.

Once home, she carries you to bed, and you’re greeted by Narla, who jumps on the bed and showers you in kisses. Lucy sets up a bucket and enough water before tucking you in. “Get some sleep. Rest that pretty head of yours. I’ll be here when you wake up”, Lucy says, running her fingers through your hair. “Promise?”, “Promise. I love you”, Lucy says softly.

“I love you too, I missed you”, you just mumble before you doze off. The last thing you feel is a kiss on your forehead.

[m-ilkiee]

Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

Chapter 1: Warning Signals

series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

chapter summary: being friends with Emma Sano is nice, until you get on the wrong side of the Sano brothers.

content warning: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, misogyny, alcohol/drug use, brief mention of violence, religious and purity culture themes, classism, slutshaming, p*rn mention, sexual assault, noncon, public initimacy, fingering (fem recieving), dacryphilia, gaslighting, manipulation, mention of vomitting, victim blaming.

r-18+ (not suitable for 17 and under)

word count: 10.1k words

note: this chapter has been edited and the storyline shifted to the original plan for the series. consequent chapters 2-5 will follow suit and vastly vary from the og series i posted before.

masterlist||chapter2||taglist

KNOWING how big both the TENJIKU and TOMAN fraternities were on campus, it was a bit awkward being friends with the youngest sister of two of the most popular guys in this school.

Any where you two went, she would always be the center of attention. You didn't really mind being in her shadow because as long as you have her, you’ll be fine. People called you a lost puppy, riding on Emma’s cocktails just to get by in university.

They didn’t know how you both have self-care days where you would paint your nails, wear facial masks and watch “Mean Girls” or “Clueless” on her laptop because you weren’t allowed to watch it when you were young. Or how the both of you always have study dates with hot coffee and exchanging annotated notes so that you both remain at the top of your game. They don’t know about the secrets you both share and the trust you both have for each other.

You don’t have to explain anything to anyone.

Emma is a pretty satisfied girl. Her college tuition is paid for in full and her time here has always been smooth. As far as you knew, she grew up being loved by all three of her brothers and they doted on her to the point she thinks they spoiled her.

-You don’t think they spoiled her -okay maybe a little with the way she spends money, but everyone has a vice. Right?

You could tell she knew what familial love is with how sweet and kind she was to you when you opened up about your family troubles.

The only issue is that her two brothers, Mikey and Izana, have been at each other's necks for some years now. Mostly Izana inciting violence at Mikey and Mikey retailiating; it’s the number one concern in the Sano household the way those two fight and argue.

From what Emma told you, Izana’s provocative nature was the gasoline to Mikey’s volatile mental state, akin to fire. Even the littlest of things that no one would bat an eye for could incite a bloody brawl between them. And as they grew older, more people were involved in their petty rivalry, since neither Emma nor Shinichiro agreed to take their side.

Despite the looming hostility, Mikey decided to throw in the towel and agree for a truce. At first, Emma couldn’t believe it. Until two weeks had passed and they hadn’t fought.

"They haven't gotten along at a stretch like this, I tell ya!" Emma had said excitedly while selecting what she would wear that day. You let out a small smile as she tossed multiple clothes on her large bed. Being the youngest had its perks, like how her oldest brother, Shinichiro paid for her to have the biggest room in one of the dorms all to herself.

You heard that on the front, he had one of the biggest Motorcycle brands and behind all of that, his real business was handling the black dragons, one of the biggest gangs in Japan.

You wonder how Emma feels about her brothers' lifestyle, but judging from her huge wardrobe and expensive jewelry, you don't think it bothers her too much.

Not like you cared either. To you, she was just Emma. Nothing more or less.

The blonde haired girl swiftly turns to you with two options in her hand, a pink sequined dress and a white halter crop top and a pink mini skirt with ruffles at the bottom. "I need to look really good today, which one says 'I'm so happy my brothers are not at each other's necks for once?' " She asked animatedly.

You've never seen her this happy since you met her, unless Draken was involved and somehow it made you happier too. It must be nice to be so close to your family members all the time and be able to mend your relationship with them.

You've never had that. You don't think of your family much. You don't wish to either, ever since your father cursed you out for rejecting a marriage proposal from one of his friends to pursue higher education and your mother stayed quiet, complicit -all the while silently seething that all her training went down the drain. The first time you ever went against their old fashioned ideals after years of obedience was met with immediate punishment.

Ironic.

You don’t regret it, though. Because you wouldn’t have met Emma.

"The second one is a better choice." You said with a smile, gazing at her with adoration in your eyes. “The skirt ruffles makes your legs look good. Pair it with the white strap heels and you’re good.”

The blonde broke out into a wider grin, the clothes pooling at her sides as she rested a hand on her hips. “Look at you giving me fashion advice.” She teased lightheartedly. “I feel like a proud mother growing up!”

“I learned from the best.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence and you take that time to admire her. You’ve always thought Emma was gorgeous, from her bright smile, to the twinkling of her eyes when she’s mischievous, to her enthusiasm for life in general. It was a no-brainer that guys would gravitate towards Emma and try their luck into dating her. Eventually the threat of her brothers or the threat of her equally terrifying friends with benefits who just happened to be the vice president of Toman, Ken Ryugi, would be enough to back off.

You wished you were as likeable and as beautiful as she was. You were always too shy to do anything or talk to people, let alone guys that you liked.

“So have you picked your outfit for the party?”

You’re snapped out of the trance-like state to see Emma standing in front of you, her body so close, you could smell her vivienne westwood. “Me?” You asked her, your tone laced with confusion. “I don’t think I’m gonna go.”

“And why is that?”

You paused, trying to organize your thoughts on how to break this to her without ruining her mood tonight. “I don’t think…” you took a deep breath before saying. “Your brothers would want me there.”

There’s a shift in her look, so minor but you could pick out the way her smile faltered. You both knew that her brothers could be… weird around you. It was something Emma couldn’t understand for the life of her.

Izana was usually very displeased with your presence and makes it very well known he doesn't want you there with snide remarks and forgetting your own order. His friends, for the fear of him, wouldn't speak to you either. It took Emma angrily yelling at him for him to be civil towards you. But the second she turned her back, Izana would go back to his usual self, being rude and peppering it with little acts of violence like pushing your hand so that your drink spilled all over the floor and even pushed your laptop bag to the ground, destroying the device you saved money to buy for months.

Mikey was on the other end of the spectrum. He would ignore your very presence and talk to everyone else but you and the rest followed suit. You’ve tried to at least make small talk with him, anything but he would talk over you. You heard from other people that he’s the nice brother and he’s usually so easy going- you’ve seen it with your very eyes the way he interacts with Emma’s other friends, Hinata and Senju.

And it hurts you. You’ve had a crush on him for so long, longer than you even knew Emma, so you don’t understand why he’s acting so differently with you. Seeing him talk with other girls sweetly makes you green with envy, wishing that it was you. Craving for just a piece of his attention.

Maybe he just doesn't like shy girls.

Only some guy named Takemitchi would try and explain that they don't hate you. It was surprising, considering that you knew people like Hakkai - whom you attended the same confirmation class and high school with- and even he made no effort to at least speak with you whenever you came to the frat house or met on the road.

You stopped bothering to make either of the Sano brothers like you, so long as they let Emma keep hanging out with you. It was obvious that they hold some animosity for you when you’ve done nothing to them.

“Nonsense!”

Before you could say anything, Emma pulled you up by your arm and dragged you off the bed towards her closet. “That’s a load of bullshit. There’s no way I’m leaving my best friend to rot in her room when there’s a Sano party going on.”

“But-”

“Nope!” She cut you off stubbornly, before pulling out some clothes from her closet, trying to match them with your skin tone. Satisfied with the outfit she picked, she puts the clothes in your arms and practically shoves you into her bathroom.

“EMMA-”

“Don’t Emma me, (name). You’re going to take a shower and by the time you’re out, I should be back with a makeup kit that suits you.” You tried to speak again but she silenced you by pressing a finger on your lips. “We’re going to be the hottest girls at that party, whether they like it or not.”

“But these look very short-”

“Sorry, can’t hear you, bye!”

You sighed when Emma shut the bathroom door in your face, locking it so that you would do what she said.

There was no winning with Emma when she made her mind up. Might as well follow through with it.

YOU had no idea how big this party would be.

You've come to the Toman frat house before with Emma to see Mikey and Draken once, and admired how large and spacious the three story building was. Now imagine that large of a space being cramped up with nearly the whole school's population.

Somewhat, you’re grateful that the outfit Emma lent you was as short as it was. The house was so hot, you could faint from how stuffy it was.

You hold on tightly onto Emma's hand, intertwined with each other as the both of you push through the big crowd, ignoring the sweaty, drunk students as you headed for the stairs. She, being used to parties like this, was able to navigate through the raging crowd with some form of ease.

After a few more squeezes, you both finally make it to the stairs.

As you both climbed up, you could see different people, all having fun in their own way. You're rarely invited to parties, so this was still more of a nouveau experience for you. A girl is asking for a light, a tiny blunt in between her teeth until another person lights it up for her. You see some guy shotgunning another girl, before melting into a hot kiss, tongue melding with each other. Someone else is drowning shot after shot and a couple is practically dry humping for everyone to see, a poor excuse to dance with the music.

The obscene sight surprisingly doesn’t disgust you, knowing your background, it just makes you curious. How would it feel to try one of those things? Smoking? Drinking? Making out with someone? Emma had told you about her own experiences; as long as you took it easy, it could be fun. Her first time with anything was with Draken and he was always gentle with her, plus her brothers were fine with it, even making sure whatever she took wasn’t laced with anything.

However, you were taught differently. That your body is a temple that you should keep clean for God and doing any of these things will sully you.

You didn’t believe that as much as you did when you were younger, but you didn’t want to test your luck either in case it ended up being true. Besides, you would look like a complete moron if you tried anything with them.

You tried as much as possible not to make it obvious that you're staring, but that failed when you caught the attention of a tall silhouette smoking. Sharp golden eyes stared you down and you instantly looked away, not wanting to get in trouble with some random guy.

You've heard rumors about Toman or Tenjiku guys absolutely beating anyone up for just staring at them wrong. You don't want to be victim number seventy-five this year.

Finally, you both reached your destination; a room on the second floor where Mikey had asked Emma to meet him. The ground floor was always the place where non-members stayed, trashed and partied. The first is accessible to all members of Toman (and now, Tenjiku) to hang out, have a private party and smoke. The second floor is only for executives and their girls or sisters.

You're a bit worried for yourself as Emma spoke to the person guarding the door. Mikey never said YOU could come along with Emma. You're no executive. You're no girlfriend of their executives and you are definitely not related to any of them. You had told Emma to leave you on the ground floor but she insisted that no one would be angry with your presence.

You've suspected that Emma has been trying to hook you up with someone in either of the fraternities. She was always insistent that you at least get to know them.

"(Name) come on."

Without waiting for your protest, Emma yanked you into the rather pristine room that housed the executives. Your eyes drank in the sight briefly, thanking God that it wasn't filthy or smelly as you had imagined it. The execs were all playing a game of poker, with an orange haired girl -Hinata Tachibana, his girlfriend, perched on Takemitchi's lap, laughing at his bad luck.

Emma's eyes quickly scanned around the room for a brief moment until she saw her two brothers sitting side by side, both engrossed in the game. Mikey’s blonde hair is tousled, like he’s been running his hand through it repeatedly. His baggy white shirt is unbuttoned half way and slips down his shoulder, revealing a black tank top and large jean trousers. Izana is different, white hair falling across his handsome face, leather jacket discarded on the back rest of the chair, leaving him in only a tight red shirt and tighter leather jeans, various chains and accessories hanging from his neck. Two earrings dangle from his ears- you can’t remember the name or significance.

‘They’re really good looking. Really-’

Without a warning, she lets go of your poor arm and jumps on top of Mikey and Izana, tackling them into a hug. Cards fly as she squeezes them hard, to which they discard their initial anger of losing their deck and hugging her back.

"Emma, next time give us a warning, will you?" Mikey pouted. You thought it looked cute, but immediately discarded that stupid thought. The guy hates your guts, don’t think he’s hot. "You ruined my game."

"As if you weren't losing dipshit." Izana teased, his face more relaxed than you’re used to seeing. "She did you a favor. You were down to 100 chips."

"You were down to 50. Who's the loser?"

"Still you."

You could see a smile tug at the corner of her lips lift up as she stands up. "Finally glad that two of you aren't strangling each other for once." She said triumphantly, hands on her hips. Her voice has a pep to it. "Last time both of you were in the same room, it didn't end well."

"Doesn't mean I'm not thinking about it." Izana scoffed. Suddenly, his purple eyes left his sister's face and trailed onto you who just stood a few feet away, awkwardly. You watched in real time as his smile fell, his features darkening the moment he locked gazes with you.

Dear God.

"What is SHE doing here?"

His harsh tone made everyone in the room shift their attention towards you. Your blood ran hot with embarrassment, feeling Izana’s purple eyes scan you up and down in disgust while everyone else just looks at you. Mikey’s gaze burned holes into you as well, silently asking you what the fuck you were doing here.

It was obvious. They never wanted you here. This entire thing was a mistake from the beginning.

"I-I'm glad I could walk with you all the way here, Emma" you stuttered, lying through your teeth. You didn't like the way both brothers were staring at you, like they could walk over to you and wring your neck at any moment. "I'll go join the party downstairs now, so I guess I'll see you soon-"

Pulling away from her brothers abruptly, the blonde girl rushed over to you and grabbed your arm, halting your attempt at running away as she dragged you back in place. You cursed underneath your breath at Emma’s desperate attempt to try to get you to stay.

“Hold on, now (name). I’ll talk to them” Emma whispered reassuringly, before turning to her brothers and increasing her voice in full volume. "She's here with me, is there a problem?”

There was a tense silence in the room as everyone stared at you. Mikey's tone was ice cold as he directed his angry gaze at you, dark eyes scanning down your body. You shuddered when his gaze settled on your legs just briefly before snapping back at Emma’s face.

"Emma. When I sent you that text, I specifically said you should come ALONE."

You felt your heart twist in your chest at the emphasis of that word from none other than Mikey. He really hated you.

"Come on Mikey. This is ridiculous." Emma plead your case. You don't realize you're shaking until your friend squeezed your hand gently in an attempt to calm you down and you squeezed back, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. "Why would I leave her downstairs?"

"Because that’s where all the beggars like her stay."

Your eyes widened the second the words left his mouth, Emma following suit at his words. The shock was soon replaced by embarrassment as Izana looked at you with a devious smile on his face, continuing his verbal assault. "What? I was just making an astute observation. You did say she was poor, so am I really wrong?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you Izana-”

“Wait-” Mikey cuts in again, holding a hand to silence her, his eyes fixated onto your outfit, the wheels in his brain turning as he scanned your clothes from head to toe. You suddenly felt naked in the simple white top and jean skirt you wore, as he actually looked at you properly for the first time.

Your shyness is quickly short lived as his facial expression morphed from one of neutrality to nothing but pure rage.

“Is that the jean skirt I bought for you, Emma?”

Your heart dropped at how loud he barked, completely silencing everybody in the room. All eyes fell on you now, putting you at the center stage of attention. Emma quickly pushed you behind her, trying to shield you from their staring the moment she realized what was about to happen.

“Mikey, wait, I was the one who insisted she should wear it, not her.” Emma started to explain, her tone apologetic. “She had nothing to wear and i gave her those since you complained she dressed like a nun-”

“So you decided to dress her up like a cheap hooker instead?” Izana scoffed nonchalantly, his eyes flickering over to your outfit. “You know your clothes looks so cheap and washed out on her. She looks like she stands on the streets and asks for sex in exchange for money.”

"Izana!”

Emma started to reprimand her brother when Mikey cut in again to join Izana in practically insulting you. “Come on Emma, look at your friend. One wrong move and she’ll flash her panties. Don’t you think she’s looking a bit too desperate?”

Your hand flies to the edge of your skirt, dragging it down to try and cover up your legs as the gazes of the men leering at your legs. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Mikey, who is quick to point it out. “See? Even your friend knows she looks like a hooker. She’s trying to pull your skirt down because she knows she’s guilty...”

Each word seemed to stab you in the heart multiple times. You quickly averted your eyes to the ground as he continued to berate you about your looks, tearing down your confidence bit by bit with each word until you're reduced into nothing but nerves and silent tears. Everyone was staring at you now, scrutinizing gazes drinking in the sight of your exposed flesh, snickering quietly.

Unwanted attention.

"Next time, she shouldn't dress like this if she wants to tag along with you…"

“THAT IS ENOUGH."

Emma’s voice rang through the entire room, anger evident in her tone. The two brothers sat there in silence, stunned at the kind of tone Emma had just used on them right now, as if they’ve never heard or seen her this angry in their life before. You could feel her tremble violently, her grip on your hand tightening as fury radiated from her body.

You were sure she’s holding back things to say with how badly she is shaking. Like she doesn’t want to say anything that she might regret saying. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it immediately, as if biting her words back.

"We're leaving."

“EMMA-”

“Oh come ON-”

Emma threw an arm around you and guided you out of the room amidst her brothers yelling at her to come back. Your friend is gentle with you, hiding your teary face from prying eyes as she leads you through the stairs. The loud music was enough to mask your uncontrolled sobbing, but it didn’t stop people with prying eyes from turning their gazes towards you, wondering what the hell happened to you.

You had never felt this embarrassed in your life. As much as Emma tried to comfort you on your way to her room, their words kept on reverberating in your head. You knew how hard it was to get out of that mindset and now, every confidence you worked for, has crashed down like a pile of cards. Even the way they looked at you made you feel so sick to your stomach.

You've been drilled into as a young child that you're dressed the way you're addressed and because of that, you have always made sure you looked modest enough. You were used to your brothers calling innocent girls whores because of what they wore, that they were asking for it.

And now witnessing it first hand just made you feel so dirty. From the way they looked at you, to how they spoke about your body. It made you ill to the core.

You’ve never been so humiliated in your life.

The two of you managed to walk back to Emma's room, since hers was closer. Her phone never stopped buzzing all through your journey, even when you got back to her room. You could see the pain in her eyes as she ignored each call, only worsening your guilt. You wished you had stayed back in the dorms instead of ruining her night; she was supposed to be having fun, not walking you back to your room prematurely because you couldn’t take criticism.

"You should pic-"

"No (name)." Emma was quick to assert as she helped you lay down on her queen sized bed, the soft surface. "You don't need to feel pity for them, you're the one they hurt, not the other way around."

You wanted to protest when she fell on the bed beside you, yanking her covers over you both and encasing you in a hug. "You don't have to worry about them. I just want you to feel better." She whispered in your ears, rubbing your back gently. "You looked good tonight."

You could only nod in response at Emma's affirmation, wanting to so badly believe her. You want to believe what Emma thinks about you but you just can’t when you feel like abject filth. Your lips began to wobble, tears rolling down your cheeks once again as their words rang in your ears.

Months of unpacking that trauma, flushed down the drain by a single action.

Emma didn't say anything in response to your fresh tears, she only hugged you tight and rubbed circles on your back to soothe you until you cried yourself to sleep.

   “YOU implied that she’s a fucking prostitute Mikey, what the hell did I misunderstand?”

You woke up with a start on hearing Emma’s harsh tone echo throughout the room.

You opened your eyes groggily, rolling the covers down a little bit to see what was going on. She was standing at the open door, changed into her pink nightgown, her hair cascading down her shoulder as she argued with someone in the hallways. You push the covers a little further to see who she was talking to, catching a glimpse of a blond haired male standing in the hallways, blocking the only source of light filtering into the room with his body.

“Don’t yell at me, I’m still your older brother.”

‘Mikey?’

You perk up at his voice, instantly awake hearing his irritated tone. What was Mikey even doing in the female dorms by this time of the night? You glance at Emma’s sanrio clock on her nightstand that reads 00:00am. By now, no male student is supposed to be here, but knowing how influential Mikey is, he might have bribed the security to let him in.

His quiet sigh interrupted your thoughts and you turned your attention back to them, wondering what was going on. He started talking again, taking a tone much softer than before. “You’ve changed Emma. You blow me off to spend time with a stranger-”

“She is not a strang-”

“She is to me. You have enough friends Emma, what do you need this one for? What’s so fucking special about her?” His voice grows harsh again as he goes off a tangent about you. “You’re gonna get tired of her Emma. She’s a new thing but sooner or later you’ll get sick of her.”

Your heart broke at Mikey’s words. Is that what he thinks of you? This was supposed to be the easy going guy on campus that helped girls cross the street and everyone liked?

What did you ever do to him?

“Stop it!” Emma hissed underneath her breath, trying to keep her voice down but drive her point across simultaneously. “Stop talking about (name) like she’s a pet or a fucking toy Mikey. I care for her and I won’t stand you talking shit about her.”

“Em for fuck sake, just get dressed and get your ass back to the party.” Your jaw nearly dropped at how he’s quick to switch topics, ignoring what she just said. “Draken’s waiting downstairs and Izana’s gonna be pissed if you don’t come back.”

“You’re gonna ignore everything I just said right now, huh?”

“Em-”

“You and Izana can go fuck yourselves.”

“You can’t be seriou-”

Emma didn’t let him finish when she slammed the door in his face, turning the key as fast as possible. Her body sagged on the door, a quiet ‘god’ escaping her lips. Her silhouette stayed in that position for two full minutes before she walked to the bed again.

In silence, she laid beside you, wrapping an arm around your body and dragging the blankets over you both once again. You felt safe.

   THE next few days after the party were eventful.

Emma had spent them with you, hanging out in the library to study and going to your work place after a hard day at school, just sitting and talking with you when there was no customer around. You ended up in your dorm room or hers afterwards, eating the snacks you both got from shops around the school.

It was nice. Emma was usually busy with other things, so having her with you all the time seems so perfect. You enjoy the quality time you spend with her, really.

But guilt wouldn’t let you do so.

She had isolated herself from her friend group affiliated with either of her brothers, ignoring their pleas to at least talk to either Mikey or Izana. Hina or Senju would try to walk up to her on her way to class and Emma would outright ignore them. In a span of days, you’ve seen countless plushies, perfumes, expensive jewelry thrown into the dustbin, either from Mikey or Izana at the back of her dorm- their apology ripped letters ripped to shreds.

You had taken the time to piece one from Izana together and felt your heart bleed at his begging for them to “please work it out. We may not be siblings by blood but you’ll always be my little sister” and Mikey’s “Em I’m sorry for everything. Please let’s talk, I’ll listen to you.”

Your brothers had never done anything like that before. Usually, they would tell you to suck it up or even laugh at you for being too ‘sensitive’.

Then and there, you decided to talk to either of the Sano brothers in hopes you would mend their relationship. A naïve part of you thinks that this is the right thing for you to do; Emma has done so much for you, it’s time to return the favor.

You hadn’t told Emma what you planned on doing, knowing very well that it would make the poor girl far more furious than she was already. She would tell you that you have nothing to apologize for and get angry with you for suggesting to make peace with them, claiming you did nothing wrong.

The last thing you want is to escalate the issue. You just wanted Emma’s happiness.

You gripped the strap of your tote bag firmly, your eyes fixated on Mikey’s Chevrolet that was outside your department, possibly waiting for Emma to come out so that he would talk to her. Gathering all your courage, you walked towards the car and gently knock on the passenger’s seat tinted window to get his attention.

It wound down immediately, revealing the blonde haired man staring back at you with an annoyed expression.

“Are you trying to break my window?”

His rude tone made you instantly regret even trying to talk to him. Unfortunately for you, the decision was made and you stuck to it. ‘The letters, remember the letters’ You whispered to yourself. “I’m sorry Mikey I didn’t mean-”

“Manjiro.”

You blink twice at his interruption, trying to make sense of what was going on. “Huh?”

“Only my friends call me Mikey and as far I’m concerned, you aren’t one of them.”

There it is. That same attitude of that night. It almost made you angry with the way he was talking to you. You had every right to walk away from him - he was the one consistently harassing you, not the other way around, so who does he think he is?

Instead, you took a deep breath, thinking about just being the bigger person and how you want to make peace with him, so that everything returned to normal. “Okay, I’m sorry about your window Manjiro.” You added politely. “Can we talk?”

He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously and you expected him to roll up his window and just drive away after that.

“Get in.”

You were shocked, but that quickly wore off when he opened the door for you to enter. You settled in quickly, snapping the seatbelt on after closing the door behind you.

There’s tense silence between the two of you as the car moved towards a more secluded part of the campus. You anxiously looked at your lap while he drove, wondering how you were going to start the conversation with him without instantly setting him off. Your gaze eventually drifted up to his face; from his half-lidded dark eyes to his straight nose, down to his soft pink lips.

You could see the resemblance between him and Emma, from their facial structure to genuinely good skin -not to mention they were both attractive. Despite his height, you knew a large amount of girls that crushed on him religiously, you included. You heard he treated any girl he was with, from his ex-girlfriends to his situationships, down to his one night stands with utmost respect and care. And despite everything he’s said to you, unlike his brother, he never hurt you violently or physically.

You just wished he was just as polite with you as he was with other girls. Maybe you could bring it up in discussions.

The car stops, bringing you back to reality. You realized that he had parked behind an abandoned class far behind the rest of the school. According to the university’s history, this was the first ever lecture hall that was built for the school, and eventually they decided not to renovate it as a remembrance from their little beginnings.

Or they didn’t want to spend any money on it.

Mikey switched the engine off, completely silencing the environment between the two of you. It is then that the realization hits you. You’re all alone with one of the most dangerous guys in this school, in a place where no one could hear you even if you scream. The thought makes you nervous, hoping to high heavens that Manjiro doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Well?” He asked, breaking the ice between the two of you. Mikey leaned back on the driver’s seat, turning to look at you. “You wanted to talk? Start talking.”

‘Okay. I can do this’ You whispered gently, exhaling through your lips. You can do this. “Mike- I-i mean Manjiro, I know it’s awkward, after everything that happened at the party and now it’s all a mess.” You cringed at the way you’re jumbling your words, this was not how it was meant to go. “We still haven’t resolved things yet-”

“We?”

You’re taken aback by his shocked tone as if he didn’t remember what both he and Izana had said to you, but when he doesn’t elaborate further, you take matters into your own hands. “Yes. You both said some unsavory things to me that hurt me that day, and it made Emma mad.” You paced yourself, not wanting to start rambling again. “I also want to apologize for disrupting your party by taking those words to heart and if I have offended you in any way, please forgive me.”

There’s an unreadable expression on his face, as if he’s slowly processing all the words you had just said. You watched his reaction morph from surprise to blankness, nothing on his face, which scared you more than any other expression.

“Get out of my car.”

What?

You quickly turned to the man, trying to understand what you had done wrong. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go in your head. You expected that Manjiro would be civil enough to at least apologize for his actions too or talk, not this.  “Wait, Manjiro, what did I say wrong-”

“You don’t even realize you’re the problem!” You nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden increase in his pitch as he bares out his frustration with you. “Em can never fucking shut up about how I need to apologize to you whenever I try to talk to her! It’s always about you, you, you! It’s frustrating.” he snapped. “Ever since you came into Em’s life, she just can’t help herself bringing you up. It’s always shit like ‘Oh, (name) is such a nice girl, you should talk to her, she’s a good listener.’ ‘Sorry I can’t come to the outings, I have to study with (name), you know she can’t go alone anywhere’ ‘Oh, this reminds me of (name), she can’t even say the word sex without hiding her face, she’s so innocent.’ She’s so fucking enamoured with you and we’re sick of it.”

You knew the brothers were extremely family motivated, but you had no idea that you were getting in the way of them spending time together. “I didn’t know...” Your voice shakes, tone apologetic as your gaze falls onto your lap. “I…I didn’t know I was causing a rift between you guys, I’m so sorry. I just want to make up for everything and put this behind us.”

A tense silence followed, and you didn't look up from your lap to look at Manjiro, still intimidated at his sudden outburst. You could understand their aversion to you, their family is quite close and their bonds intertwined; so for a stranger to barge in and attempt to tear things apart, even unknowingly can be frightening for them.

Not like you would know what it is like for family to love you.

Eventually, you feel Manjiro turn his gaze towards you, dark eyes scanning your figure until settling on you. You held your breath as he finally cleared his throat, turning his attention to you fully for the first time, ever as he began to speak.

“You want us to make up.”

His tone was plain, as opposed to how angry he sounded a few moments ago. Somehow, you feel weird, slightly more alert than before as he pauses again, goosebumps littering your skin. ‘What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel so scared as he’s staring at me?’ you questioned yourself, before shaking your head, clearing your thoughts. ‘This is Mikey I’m with. Sure, he’s intimidating, but he would never hurt a girl. He’s a good guy.’

You decided to push your odd feelings aside. You were here for peace, not to think ill of him, not especially when you have a soft spot for him in your heart. And you wanted it to happen by any means necessary. Maybe showing him you were not a threat to his place in Emma’s life would make him feel much better around you. “I know that you may not trust me, but maybe if you got to know me better, and I also got to know you and your friends, you’ll see I mean no harm.”

“Is that so? You want us to know each other better?”

It was slight, but you could hear it. The slight mocking tone in his voice and instantly you felt stupid. It was clear he wasn’t taking you or your request seriously as you hoped he would, opting to see right through you instead as he stared at you, his gaze lingering to your hands lying in your lap.

“I-i feel like you’re not taking me seriously-"

“If you wore a longer skirt, then I wouldn’t have gotten so distracted.”

You instantly felt self-conscious when you realized where his gaze truly was from that moment on, and started dragging down your skirt to cover the space between your thighs and socks. The action only seemed to annoy him. “This is my problem with you. If you knew it was short, why did you wear it then?”

“I thought it was cute-” You felt stupider, uttering those words, but before you could say anything else, Mikey cut you off. “I never said it wasn’t cute, (name). It’s a cute skirt. It looks good on you.”

Your heart jumps in excitement at his compliment, your entire body getting warm at his words. “Really?” You uttered shyly, letting your guard down as a small smile crawls up your pretty lips.

“Yeah, real cute. You’d fit as one of the actresses featured in the schoolgirl category on a porn site.”

Your smile dropped instantly as the words left his mouth. “I’m not a slut.” your voice trembled, but just like arguing with your father, it’s no use. He let out a loud scoff, his gaze flickering from your face to your lap, settling between your legs. “But you dress like one. So might as well just perform for me, hmm?”

Your body tenses as you feel a hot palm grab at your exposed thigh, crawling underneath your skirt. You quickly push his hand off your thighs, earning a somewhat shocked reaction from him, as if he’s not used to being rejected. “I’m not…” you start to explain to him, slowly reaching for the door in a bid to escape. “... I don’t do things like that-”

“Does it look like I fucking care?” The blonde man snapped back at you, his surprise giving way to annoyance and he started to grab at your thighs again, only to be brushed off by you, angering him further. “I know you’re not as “innocent” as you claim to be. Stop fucking pretending. I know you want this!”

“I said I don’t do stuff like that! Stop it!” You yelled back at him, frustrated that he can’t just take no for an answer. You try to pry the door open or undo the latch, only to discover that it was stuck and that there was no way out.

‘No, no, no, no…’

Your heart starts hammering loudly in your chest, dread filling your veins when you realized how alone and utterly fucked you are.

You’re beginning to realize that Manjiro driving the both of you to a secluded place in the middle of nowhere was most likely intentional. He must have planned this so that no one would hear you both.

“Manjiro open the door or I’ll- I’ll-” 

“Or you’ll what?” He spat back, dangling the keys before your very eyes before putting it somewhere you couldn’t see. “You wanna open the door so bad? Get the key from me then.”

You’re quick to react, lunging forward in an attempt to snatch the key for him. He easily resisted you grabbing at his body while laughing at your repeated screams to stop. It was like the more you begged and pleaded for him to let you go, the more he liked whatever game he was playing.

“THIS ISN’T FUNN- MANJIRO!”

Your screaming did nothing to deter him from practically jumping on you and pinning your arms against your chest with one firm hand, a leg separating your thighs. You twisted and turned, trying to fight your way out of his tight grip but to no avail. He was heavy and stronger than you had imagined, holding onto you like you weighed nothing at all.

His other hand reached underneath your skirt, skimming through your panties, making you squirm in your position at the feeling. Panic rises against your chest as he pushes the crotch part aside, revealing your pussy. “Wait! Wait, please Manjiro, I’m a virgin-” you try to reason with him as he traces through a streak of your hairy vulva, curling a strand in one finger before moving to your clit.

“You don’t shave?” His tone is so casual, like he isn’t doing something very abhorrent and wrong right now. His question is left hanging in the air as his finger starts to slowly circle around your clit. "Not like I care, it's better this way, anyways."

You’ve never been touched before. You’ve never touched yourself there either. You grew up in a household that taught you that anyone who isn’t your husband touching you is wrong. Your body is a temple to be kept for your husband.

So when Mikey’s slow and sensual movement against your clit begins, your body nearly seizes up with sensitivity. A loud gasp escapes your lips, followed by heavy breathing, your body shuddering with something unfamiliar and electric, sending signals that you didn’t know how to respond.

He strokes you faster, rubbing your sensitive nub in circles that has your eyes glazing over and your hips moving to feel more of his touches, wetting his car seat and your skirt with arousal. Mikey watched with interest the way you closed your eyes tight, your head lolled towards the side as your chest rises and falls, quiet ‘oh’ leaving your lips. He started to take it a step further, leaning over to your neck and trails kisses from your pulse point, to your jawline. He moved up to your ear and his long tongue darted towards the shell, licking it.

“Manjiro-” You gasped at the foreign wetness, with each flick of his tongue, sending pleasurable shivers down your body to your very core. Encouraged by your somewhat positive response, he continues licking your earlobe, his teeth occasionally grazing the shell as his fingers progressively leaves your clit, gathering your slick between his two fingers and tracing the outline of your hole.

“Shit” he groaned, feeling how wet you were. “You’re so wet right now, I could just slide in your pussy with ease.”

You wanted to protest when you felt two thick fingers inch into your unused hole. You wanted to push him off you and run out of the car until you were far away from him. Every part of your mind, your heart, everything in you wants Mikey OFF you as he forces your hole to accept his fingers.

And yet, you couldn’t even scream, you couldn’t claw at his face to scratch his eyes out for doing this to you. No. Instead, you’re arching your back and breathing his name into his ears over and over again, your hands clenched tightly in his grip as his fingers stretched your pussy out. All you do is tear up and let this sick pervert lick the salt rolling down your cheeks off, before going back to kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“You’re so pretty when you cry f’me. Come on, keep making those noises.” 

He curled up his fingers, experimentally looking for that spot as the burn graduated to a pleasurable stretch, repeated moans leaving your lips. He fingered you, progressively increasing his speed and pleasure overriding your senses as he circled his thumb over your poor nub, simultaneously with him curling up your g-spot.

Your body responded to his touches, lips kissing up and down your neck, licking your pulse point before sinking his teeth and mouth on it, making you gasp loudly.

Everything was too much. Your pussy tightened around his fingers, thighs trembling as he brought you closer to the edge. His lips left your neck and kissed up to your jaw, then the corner of your lips, pumping into you faster until you started to spasm.

“M-manjiro I-i feel, I feel- hngh-”

You arched your back uncomfortably with a strangled cry, soaking his fingers as your vision went blinding white. Your body trembled as he fucks and kisses you through your orgasm, shaking in his grasp until you fall limp on the chair, well spent.

You’re catching your breath as his fingers slid out of your pussy, a string of your cum connecting them. Manjiro looked at his soaked fingers with interest, before popping them in his mouth and humming to himself in approval. The sight feels so wrong to look at and you can’t find the strength to look away as he licked his fingers clean of your musky taste.

You don’t say anything when he let go of your wrists and adjusted your panties so that it covered your pussy. The blonde haired man climbed back to his seat, starting up the engine of his car again.

He doesn’t say anything when you start sobbing.

   “I GOT you food.”

You didn’t respond to Manjiro, hanging your face as tears rolled down your face. It’s the position you had assumed since he climbed off your body, something he couldn’t get you out. He thought that maybe if he got you some food, maybe you’ll ease up and eat.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Kissing his teeth, he entered back into the driver's seat before closing the door behind him, tossing the food at the back seat. You could tell from the way he was muttering underneath his breath that he was growing more annoyed with you. “Honestly, I don’t know why the hell you’re crying. You’re still a virgin. I didn’t force myself on you.”

You didn’t know what else to expect from him. That he would even offer you a shred of apology for what he did? The way his words are so callous, lacking any form of tact in the way he’s brushing off what he just did tore you apart.

Emma had painted this man as someone who would hang the moon and stars for her. Someone she knew she could call if anything was going to happen to her, who would fight through hell and back for her safety. She had told you of how he beat up anyone that touched her wrongly and how he would try to make her forget anything unpleasant. To Emma, Mikey was her knight in shining armor, her hero.

This was a man you had loved with all your heart. Manjiro was your first ever crush, and the more good you heard about him, not just from Emma, but from other girls too, the deeper you fell for him. You had admired him from afar, your heart set onto him as you hoped to be at least close to him. Despite everything, he was the sun in which everyone revolved around, the heart throb of your dreams.

But when you turn to look at him through your teary gaze, watching him rev up his car engine with a nonchalant expression on his face, all you see is a vile soul.

You felt sick.

“I’m going to tell Emma.”

Your voice was quiet, hoarse from all the sobbing but the anger was evident. There was no way you were going to let him get away scott free. You knew that the police would be as good as useless because you’ll have no evidence by the time you manage to file a complaint. The school authorities won’t help you either as Shinichiro Sano was one of their biggest benefactors and everyone in the faculty loved Manjiro despite his tendency to be disrespectful.

But if you told Emma, you know she’ll believe you. Even if the entire world was against you and for him, you would still be able to get her to take your side and stand with you.

You’re sure name dropping his little sister would make him scared at the very least. Mikey loved her to death, she had this perfect image of her sweet older brother that he has to uphold at the very least.

Without skipping a beat, he dropped his own phone straight onto your lap before continuing to focus on the road. Eyes wide, you turned your head to Mikey to see any form of reaction, even him flinching slightly.

Nothing.

Your mouth hung open at how he just blankly stared at the road ahead of him, his grip on the steering wheel normal as he drove you back to campus. As if he’s innocent, like he didn’t force his fingers into your panties and violate you.

His nonchalance irritates you; it’s as if he doesn’t care what you say or do to him.

“What?” you questioned him, wondering where the hell he dropped his humanity? Any other person would have reacted; begging you, threatening you or even giving a flimsy apology. “-why did you drop this on my lap?”

“You wanna call her? Go ahead.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Not like you told me no when I was fingering you.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Then how does it work?” He cuts you short, taking a right turn to park outside of your faculty building. He puts the car in park before turning to face you. “You walk up to my car to ask me if we could talk, wearing that kind of skirt that gave me access to you. When I told you to get out, you didn‘t leave. You never told me to stop and you didn’t struggle. You know what you did instead?”

“Sto-”

“Ah ah- Manjiro” he mocked you in a high pitched voice, making you cover your ears in humiliation, not wanting to hear anything from him. You wanted to throw up, ruin his car. You want the ground to swallow you whole, anything that would take him far away from you. “Ah, mmh Manjiro, mmh mhhh ah ah- you moan like a pornstar by the way. You seem like you enjoyed being treated like that.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but all you felt was bile rise up to your throat. A part of you nagged that he had a point; you never said anything that sounded like ‘stop’ or ‘no’ and how you positively responded to his touches. ‘You even orgasmed.’ A gnarly disgusting voice bubbles up in your head, in defense of Mikey. ‘It was obvious you enjoyed it. Every second of it.’

You tried to deny it. Try to block out that voice as you attempt to remember everything you were told about assault. You’re fighting a war in your head, against the intrusive voices as you picked up the phone to tell Emma. ‘She’ll believe me. She’ll believe me-’

“Face it. You’re just overreacting because you liked what we did.”

Those words were the final nail to the coffin. The phone lies in your limp hand, finger just above Emma’s line to call her. Everything that led up to this point involved your choices. To stay in his car. Not fighting harder. Never screaming no.

You let him dirty your temple.

Mikey spared you one more look, dark eyes scanning every inch of your crumpled form. He slides the device out of your hand, placing it back in the middle of his car before grasping your hand in his.

“Alright, stop crying.” he soothed in faux sympathy, thumb tracing over the back of your palm. “I’ll take you shopping and buy you new clothes, hmm? And I’ll buy you anything else you want. Okay?”

You should known better to believe him. After everything he has done to you, from consistently insulting you, to assaulting you and then making you feel guilty for giving him the opportunity to do so.

And yet, you’re nodding along, agreeing with him and letting his warmth engulf you. “Okay.” You said in a small voice, your free hand grasping the hem of your skirt tightly.

“Look at me.”

You felt another hand grasp your chin, forcing you to look at his face, dark eyes peering at your face. “I don’t like that look on your face.” You wince as his fingers tightened around your jaw, your heart hammering against your chest when he commanded you once again. “Smile.”

You don’t know what else to do. With Mikey, it’s like going to a war knowing fully well you would lose.

And so you do as you’re told. Your lips lifted at the corners forcefully and you gave your best smile. He returned it with a smile of his own, genuine to the point his eyes dilated.

“Good girl. You look so much better.”

Your mouth went dry at his statement when he withdrew from your body and unlocked the door for you. Deciding not to ponder on it, you reach for the handle to leave. You had a class in an hour’s time and you were supposed to meet up with Emma beforehand to return her laptop that you borrowed for her project.

“Wait.”

You paused in your tracks, your hand hovering above the door handle. What else does he want from you?

“Your makeup is ruined. Fix it. You don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea that I hurt you when we were just playing with each other.”

Bile rose into your mouth once again at his words, but you hold yourself from doing anything that would set him off. You only nodded in response before opening the door and exiting the car. Tears threatened to escape your eyes as you hurried off to class, your throat burning with anger as you gripped both your tote bag and the food he had gotten for you, hard. Your body shook with each step feeling the intensity of his dark eyes burning into you.

You never touched the food, throwing it in the trash bin due to your appetite eluding you, replaced with a sinking feeling of pain and humiliation into your stomach. You don’t make it to the rest of your classes either, opting to lock yourself in a toilet, a loud cry ripping from your throat into your palms as your heart breaks into tiny pieces.

How could this have happened?

Bonus Scene:

MIKEY never tore his gaze from you as you disappeared into the building. Dark eyes watched as your ass bounced in that jean skirt you had worn today, nearly reviving the boner he had prior. He had to admit, notwithstanding his absolute disgust for you, you were a sight for sore eyes - pretty, naive, inexperienced and tight. So goddamn tight.

He’s never been with an inexperienced girl before. Not even when he lost his virginity in high school. It didn’t hurt that you also had the sexiest thighs he’s ever seen either, soft and doughy underneath his touch.

You weren’t as stupid as he thought -far from it. Mikey knew your strategy; picking your battles carefully. You’re rightfully afraid of both him and Izana. You were even more afraid of losing face with Emma, the only friend you managed to make here, which is why you came to him because you felt guilty for making her mad at them.

If played right, they could have you underneath their thumb like they do with the rest of Emma’s other friends. All this was to keep an eye on their little sister in the long run, to restore the natural order and balance that was their system. Family came first, then the gang, then their friends and finally, if they cared enough, their lovers. It’s a cycle that Mikey is used to, being the center of attention in Emma’s life and sharing that space with Izana. Even Draken knew that there are times he shouldn’t intrude when the two brothers are with her.

But you had no regard for the order of things. You just tried to insert yourself into his and Izana’s circles, as if you were somebody of any importance and not just another, a little gnat.

To Mikey, you deserved to be crushed like the annoying gnat you are. Seeing you cry and tremble underneath his touch, hearing you moan and beg him like a slut made him feel good.

Mikey looked at the building again before looking at his watch. He had to attend his criminology lecture by 3pm since he had a presentation today and it was already 1:30pm, having taken out time to talk to you. The frat member he gave his presentation to edit must be waiting for him at the coffee shop.

“I might not be able to meet up with ‘Zana.” He muttered, picking up his phone to dial him up instead. Finally, after the fifth ring, his line went through, his rough voice echoing through the phone.

“Mikey? What is it?”

Mikey could hear a bit of shuffling from the other end of the phone, and a quiet “Izana” spilling from a rather feminine voice, only for Izana to bark at the girl to shut up, effectively silencing her.

“Did I catch you at the wrong time?”

“No.” He grumbled. “Do you have any updates on Emma?”

“In a way, yes. I do.”

“In a way?”

“I have a feeling you’re not going to like my plan, regardless.”

Izana sighed from the other side of the line, probably sick and tired of the constant mind games Emma was playing with them and to be fair, even he was sick of it as well. Their little sister was easy to annoy but easier to please; so for her not to be as forgiving this time was frustrating. Mikey had played every game in the book he knew to please Emma and even Izana had put in far more effort than he cared to, but nothing worked.

Unless…

“It involves her, doesn’t it?”

Mikey could hear the irritation in his brother's voice, but then again, if they wanted peace to reign and for Shinichiro not to get directly involved in this issue in your favour, they were going to have to play it the smarter way.

“Not like we have a choice. Emma’s attached to that girl by the hip. You’ll just have to trust me on this one.”

Also, it doesn't hurt to have a little fun on the side.

author's notes: reblogs, comments and asks are highly appreciated. my taglist for all my fics are wide open, so do ensure to sign up. please be very patient with me as for updates, school has started and i may not be able to be consistent, but i will try my very best to finish this story this year.

I do not consent to my works being promoted, published or translated on any site or social media without my permission.

taglist (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @getonite @anxious-chick @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra

[mockerycrow]

SICK MOMENTS; Price Edition (GN!Reader)

price masterlist

authors note; i’m finally completing the sick moments series after being gone!!!! after this, I only have soap to do. i hope you enjoy, pls leave a comment if you can because i’m not sure the quality of this is acceptable 😵‍💫

[WARNINGS; Vomiting, descriptions of sickness, medical emergency. Secret relationship, Price is worried, fluff.]

You first began to feel unwell in the middle of a ruck march, your throat forming a frog and pressure rising in your skull. You didn’t pay much attention to it at first as ruck marches are generally brutal; of course you’re going to be uncomfortable. Your feet are going to hurt, your joints will be screaming for a break, especially your back. Slowly but surely, making your way over multiple terrains with a heavy rucksack on, your stomach began to turn. Nausea bubbles up in the pit of your stomach and into the back of your throat, leaving you extremely uncomfortable and confused.

You let out a cough, feeling sweat drip down your neck and into your shirt. You’ve already begun to slow down, catching Soap’s attention who had been keeping an eye on you already. His head turns to you as you stumble a bit on your feet, his eyes narrowing at the way you grab at the straps of your rucksack to balance yourself. “You alright?” Soap asks, slowing down his pace himself. Soap knows Ghost, who’s leading the march will probably chew into his ass as well as yours, but you truly aren’t looking well. Your eyes are distant, your expression one of pain. “Mm, just a wave of nausea is all.” You grimace, trying to wave both Soap and the sickness off.

Again, extreme discomfort and even feeling sick on a ruck march isn’t too uncommon, especially because it’s humid and there’s no clouds in the sky, which means the sun is beaming down on you with no protection aside from your hat and clothing. Clothing, which is not quite breathable. You don’t really realize how your vision is blinded until your boot fumbles over something solid—possibly another rock, or even your other foot—and it sends you crashing into the dirt below. Gravity shows you no mercy as your cheek presses into the ground, your bucket hat shuffled off to the side, exposing your head to the sun.

“Shit.” You garble, trying to push yourself up, but everything just feels so heavy and God, you feel so fucking nauseous. Throwing up sounds really nice right now.

So, you do.

You turn your head to the side and it bubbles out of your throat and past your lips with a burning pain scratching at the walls. You feel a pair of hands pushing you onto one of your sides—thankfully not pushing you directly into your puddle of vomit, which is mostly bile—and another tugging at your rucksack. You don’t have much energy to question anything, or even think all that much.

Someone’s hands are on your head and face, doing something that you couldn’t be bothered to try to recognize. It only clicks when someone pushes your leg into a certain position that you recognize the attempt of the recovery position. You try to blink to regain your vision, but you don’t even know if you actually blinked. Something feels very off as someone is pressing a luke-warm cloth to your neck before you find yourself in the infirmary.

Unlucky for you, your skull is still pounding like there’s a little guy in your head using a jackhammer and your stomach is still very unhappy with your decisions, but you no longer feel like you’re melting. Your vision is blurry for a bit and you realize you’re completely laying down. You blink harshly, your lips feeling chapped and dry—and your mouth tastes gross. Great.

Your hand twitches and you try to sit up, but you’re met with a pair of hands on your shoulders keeping you down on the semi-uncomfortable cot. “Easy.” A low, rumbling voice utters softly, a voice you recognize as Price. Your eyes dart to his face, taking a second for his facial features to come into focus. Your eyes trace the worried furrow of his brow, how his lower lip is barely visible from his mustache and the way it’s curled.

“Wha’ happened?” You croak, not attempting to sit up again but you wince at the pull in your throat. “Was hopin’ you could tell me that,” Price utters, reaching over to grab a white, small styrofoam cup with a plastic straw. He helps you sit up just far enough to reach the straw and to not choke. Once you take a few sips, he takes the cup and puts it back as you lay back down. The liquid helps soothe the ache. “I dunno. I just went down.” You mumble, feeling still quite disoriented.

Price sighs, his arms crossing—he’s wearing that familiar coyote brown shirt and you can’t look down, but you know he’s wearing cammies. “That’s the thing, yeah? You don’t go down.” Price rumbles, sitting down in a chair and scooting it closer. His eyes trace your face, frowning as he notes the sweat. “Medics said you’re sick, running tests now. Why’d you go on a march while this sick?”

You blink at him sluggishly, shaking your head. “I didn’t even realize that I was sick.” You croak, raising your arm to scratch the underside, realizing there’s an IV in your arm. You’re careful as you reach under yourself to scratch. “I started to feel unwell, but you know how those marches are, sir.”

Price sighs, his eyebrows remaining furrowed. “There’s no ranks in this room right now,” He murmurs, uttering your first name. Your glance down for a moment, your mouth feeling oddly dry. “They said you were severely dehydrated. Nearly had a heat stroke, love.”

Your eyes shut, a little “oh” escaping your lips. “That explains a lot.” You respond quietly, opening your eyes for a moment. You meet his stare, and your heart sinks into your stomach from how worried he looks. “I’m okay.” You try to assure him, reaching for his hand. Price immediately moves to intertwine your fingers together, his calloused thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Guess I’m just not used to the humidity, I guess? I was feeling run down earlier, but I just thought it was an off day, y’know?”

Before Price can respond, a military nurse knocks on the door, causing Price to regrettably let go of your hand. His head turns to the door as it opens, a young man walking in, wearing some scrubs with a clipboard. “Oh! It’s good to see you awake.” The nurse greets you, and you return his courtesy with a weak smile. “Let’s see here.. Unfortunately you have the flu, but you tested negative for COVID and strep.” The nurse utters, flipping through the clipboard.

“However, as you did over-exert yourself.. I will have to give you a few days of rest. That means no training, no marches.” The nurse eyes Price as he talks and Price nods. “I’ll make sure they get the rest they need myself.” Price assures the nurse, his fingers twitching, aching to hold your hand again. He wouldn’t let you know, but hearing that you collapsed genuinely scared him.

You don’t ever go down—maybe someone else will occasionally, but no one in his task force ever does and hearing that a ruck march took you out was scary. Price was stuck wondering if it was an underlying health condition, maybe brain related from what he was told; you had collapsed and vomited, and you were shaking. However, they deemed you did not have a seizure. Luckily.

Price kind of spaces out, making a mental checklist of what he can do for you during this time. Soup and other light foods—electrolyte water for sure, crackers.. Heat packs and ice packs, definitely grab you some medicine. Trash bags for vomit. A movie or two.

“John.” You croak.

His head immediately snaps to you, noticing the nurse has left. “Yes, love?” Your eyes scan his face, your hand grasping his once more. You’re shaky and sweaty. “What’re you thinkin’ about?” You ask quietly.

The corner of his lip twitches. He knows you already are aware of the answer, especially when he scoots closer and squeezes your hand once more.

He’ll make sure you’re okay.

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[mysicklove]

CW: aged up character, making out, ppl in love, yuuji is taller/bigger than reader, mentions of sex and NSFW content, word vomit, bad writing bc i wrote it on my phone and didn’t edit it

Yuuji Itadori found making out to be on of his favorite ways to pass time. Sex is great an all, but something about the way your mouth locks with his his, your tongue grazing his teeth while your hand creeps up his shirt just sends his head spinning. The raging boner he gets in his pants is a little uncomfortable, but sometimes if he’s lucky you’ll run your hand over is, pulling a shiver from the boy.

Making out is easier than having sex, no body fluids to clean after you are done (although, he does find himself occasionally cumming in his pants either way) and all the two of you have to really do is fix your hair, and pretend like the room is a little too hot to explain your red, panting faces.

On one second your on top of him, hands in his hair while he’s groaning into your mouth, and the next Fushiguros there, rolling his eyes at Yuujis love sick expression for you. It was great — the switch up was thrilling.

You seemed to like it as much as he did, which almost made him feeel giddy inside, akin to schoolgirl, embarrassing enough. You don’t see a problem of shutting the apartment door the second the two of you arrive at your place, and attacking his mouth.

He doesn’t mind being the one pinned to the door — it may be a little embarrassing considering how much larger he is than you, but you don’t seem to care. Your tongue slides into his mouth without a warning.

It’s a mess of limbs and teeth and saliva, but Yuuji wouldn’t have it any other way. He likes that it’s messy — it’s hotter that way, or so he says, usually after with a massive grin on his face on his red face. But for now, he grabs your chin, tilts it up, and mimics your movements.

Your body is pressed against him on the wall, and he can feel your lower stomach touching his groin, sending shivers up his spine. It’s almost unconscious the way he drives his hips toward you, humping your body to gain some friction of his now hardening cock.

You don’t pay it any mind, cruelly enough, not pulling away from his mouth even with the lack of oxygen between the two of you. But Yuujis stumbling forward, accidentally moving his body too much to be controlled and pulling himself away from your mouth.

He doesnt go far, panting with hazy eyes and red lips, before pressing quick kisses to your mouth while trying to catch his breath. He’s leading you backward, littering now your neck with butterfly kisses. “B-Bedroom.”

You guys make it to the kitchen before your on eachother again like magnets. He lifted you up on the counter, loving to show how easy it is for him to lift you — he’s prideful in his strength, and does like to show you in subtle ways like this. But you don’t mention anything, and he knew you wouldn’t, especially since now his shirt was off and yours was soon to come.

His hands are around your waist, and his mouth moves with rhythm, pulling groans from the both of you until he breathes the words, “love you” into your lips, not caring if you heard, because he says it a multitude of times anyways.

But you do, and giggle a breathless laugh, gripping his hair and pulling it back just to hear him moan. Your hands run over his abdomen, tease his chest, and then finish back at his jaw. “Me too,”

“Bedroom?”

He takes off your shirt, pulling away to lock his mouth on your chest for a moments worth, knowing that you won’t be pleased if his lips don’t find yours again soon. You nod at him.

The two of you make it to the couch before your pants come off.

[afriendlyblackhottie]

In Between

Description: of course you’d come to them if your boyfriend wasn’t treating you right. They were your best friends after all. You weren’t expecting them to take advantage of the situation though.

Tags: minors dni, smut, oral (female receiving), edging, dubcon (better safe than sorry), if I missed any please let me know 😭

(A/N: Omg I’m finally just gonna put it out I’ve been writing this on and off for so long lmao still not edited though cuz fuck the grammar police hahaha I hope you all like it. Please like, follow, and reblog with a comment 💜✌🏾)

—————————————————-

“He wouldn’t what?” Bucky asked with a look of bewilderment on his face about what you had just told him.

Maybe you were doing the most by spilling things, but what can you say, you were upset. Had just walked in on your boyfriend with someone else after he’d told you over and over again that nothing had been going on. To say you were in your feelings was an understatement.

It wasn’t like things hadn’t been on and off for a long time anyway but this was the final straw. You were so sick of him doing this to you. Of him lying to your face.

Telling you that you’re the only one and that he was serious about you. Honestly you really should have known be would have turned out to be a player. The worst part was that it seemed like you were never the one to get off. Felt like you’d wasted your time. Probably why you were spilling everything to The Winter Solider.

It was almost like things were coming out as word vomit. Secrets spilling from your mouth that you hadn’t even told Natasha as they were too embarrassing.

Except he was sitting there acting like he really cared and clearly you needed that. Even more so when you started to say way too much.

“I know, right!” You scoffed. Thinking about the way he’d treated getting you off like some kind of chore.

Honestly you should have dumped him after the first time he said to you, ‘I don’t eat pussy.’

“So he never?” Bucky asked with a raised eyebrow.

You shook your head, sniffling. He looked so taken aback.

“That’s bullshit,” Bucky said once again with a scoff. Eyes trailing all over your body. Thinking to himself what an idiot your ex was for not appreciating what he had. “Aw, Honey,” he cooed, grabbing your hand when he noticed you tearing up.

As if you should be wasting tears on that asshole.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled some more. “I don’t even know why I’m upset right now. He’s not even worth it.”

Well, he was happy that you knew that.

“It’s okay,” he replied. “You know I’m right here.”

You nodded as he leaned forward to pull you into a hug. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Needing to melt into him as the vulnerability hit you like a freight train.

“Thanks, Bucky,” you managed to say, pulling away so you could look at him. “Steve’s so lucky to have someone like you.”

Bucky glanced down at your lips. Wondering what Steve would say if he even saw the two of you in this position. You needing a shoulder to cry on as he wished he could comfort you in the way he wanted to.

Not like Steve wouldn’t understand. He saw the way his boyfriend looked at you.

“Yeah well, Steve’s stuck with me so…”

You chuckled stopping to wipe your eyes. Bucky gently placed a hand on your cheek so he could do the same. Thumbing away the droplets.

“Wish I could find a great guy like you. Hell like either of you. Seems like I’m only ever getting into relationships with assholes.”

That kind of sparked something in his chest. Hearing you say that. Sitting here spilling his heart out to him.

“Oh yeah?” He asked. “Well you know I think you deserve better.”

You smiled and wiped your eye. “Thanks, James.”

“It’s okay,” he said, finally reaching out to give you a hug. Seeing that you clearly needed it. “You know I’m always here for you.”

“I know,” you whimpered. Honestly you didn’t even know who else to come to besides him and Steve. They’d really done so much for you after they’d moved in. Sure you kind of had to get used to living next door to the superhero couple, but so far they’d kept you pretty safe.

It was super convent. Hadn’t had to walk any groceries up to your place in months either. Seemed like the two of them were always there to take care of whatever you needed. Took such good care of you. Always.

So how did you think Bucky was going to feel when he heard that your ex hadn’t been. As if any man wouldn’t be happy to have a face full of pussy. Especially yours. Honestly what a fucking idiot. Even the idea of getting a taste was making him feel things he normally didn’t.

“I can’t believe he wouldn’t eat you out, though,” he laughed. “What a- why didn’t you say anything.”

“I don’t know!” You laughed too, pulling away. “I just… I don’t know…”

“It’s okay. We’ll just find you someone that’s going to take care of you right.”

Once again you laughed and honestly he was just happy to see it. Hated having to see you cry. Especially over some bullshit like a man that couldn’t even pleasure you properly. Why cry over him when Bucky could be making you smile.

“You’ve got such a cute little laugh,” he complimented. Not like it wasn’t something he did a lot.

Him and Steve both did. Always wanting to let you know how beautiful they thought you were. Thought they’d just been doing it as your friends, but Bucky just couldn’t deny his attraction forever. Look at you.

Even crying you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. Had gotten all dolled up for an asshole that didn’t deserve it. Makeup creeping down your face. Fuck. You shouldn’t have to waste such a look.

You let another one of those giggles, looking down and using your shoulder to rub away a tear. Bucky leaned forward so he could place his hand underneath your chin. Lifting your head up. “Honestly, Doll,” he started, “you might be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“You’re just saying that,” you sniffled.

“No, I mean it. You know I do.“

“Bullshit,” you replied.

“I really do,” he said. “Why do you think Steve and I have to take care of you so much. Pretty thing like you shouldn’t have shit to worry about.”

Inside your heart felt like it could stop. He just looked so handsome as he spoke. Had recently gotten a haircut so he looked even better. Fresh faced. Even in a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt he looked hot.

Not like you hadn’t thought about him or Steve before. Knew they were both bisexual so it wasn’t like they wouldn’t ever be interested in you but still it always felt like such a long shot. They were your best friends. You weren’t supposed to be thinking about them at night when you touched yourself. Especially when you had a boyfriend.

And they were from a different time. Actual gentleman back in the day from what you gathered. Wanted their women in the home and spoiled.

Sometimes the idea of it sounded kind of nice. Having a man dote on you. Then you had two of them really, really interested in your well being. Of course you were going to crush a little but you didn’t want to cross any lines.

“I don’t even know what I’d do without you both,” you said.

“Hey, that’s how we feel about you. Who else is going to cook for us and make sure our place is tidy when we’re gone.”

You chuckled. “You make me sound like a housewife.”

Bucky shrugged. “I mean… it’s a good look on you. Could see that.”

“Well, I mean, I’d have to find a guy first.”

“I mean… maybe you already have,” he said.

“What?” You asked with a chuckle. “Bucky, I-,”

“I know,” he cut you off. “But, can I be honest?”

“Okay…”

“You know how much I love having you around and I-,”

“What about Steve?” You asked him. “I can’t just… I can’t just do that to him.”

“We’ll worry about him later,” he replied, stroking your cheek, making you look at him. Finally placing a kiss on your lips.

You quickly pulled away with a gasp. “Bucky, we can’t… he’s my…”

“Shhh, don’t worry about, Steve, Baby,” he tried to assure you, your eyes hitting his. Something about his gaze making you feel warm on the inside.

“I- no we can’t just…”

“Yes we can,” Bucky said. “It’s okay.”

And as bad as you wanted to keep fighting him. For some reason you just couldn’t. As Bucky pulled you close so that he could go back to kissing you.

Fuck his lips did feel good. And everything with your now ex. You were vulnerable. You wanted to feel wanted.

But, Steve…

“Don’t worry about Steve, Baby,” Bucky whispered in your ear again. “Focus on me.”

Bucky’s fingers went under your dress. Gripping your thighs. A curl in his lip. Fuck he was so pretty.

He slowly pushed you down. Climbing on top of you so he could really take control. Pushing your legs up so that he could get in between them. Kissing you more before you could protest.

Bucky was getting his fucking taste. Just because your stupid little boyfriend didn’t want to taste it, didn’t mean he didn’t want to. He was getting it.

“Fuck!” You gasped as he started kissing your collarbone. No longer thinking about your ex or his boyfriend.

Felt good to have you right where he wanted you. Finally. It had taken him this goddamn long.

You laid back as Bucky got on his knees. Placing a kiss on one of your knees first before going up towards your thigh. A breath hitched in your throat. If you were feeling hesitant, he could change your mind.

“Bucky,” you whimpered as he spread your legs, to get a good look at your panty covered pussy.

“So fucking pretty,” he groaned as he looked up at you. His poor girl still obviously shy. That’s okay he’d take care of you. Just needed to-

“Fuck!” You cried as he kissed you through your panties. “We shouldn’t-,” you tried to keep it going.

Not like he cared as he pushed your underwear to the side so he could lick a strip from the bottom up to your clit. Making your words get caught in your throat as you laid back with a moan. Yeah that’s what he fucking thought. He knew you wanted this shit.

You trembled as he feasted on your clitoris. Sinking into the cushions as your hips stuttered. See he knew you liked it. It was so much better when you didn’t fight him. Now he could really give it to you.

He didn’t waste anymore time as he pulled the fabric from your body. Not giving a single fuck as to where it could have possibly been discarded before diving back in. It had been a long time since he’d done this, but it’s not like Steve wasn’t aware that he’d missed a woman’s touch. Maybe more than he realized.

“Fuck me, Bucky,” you sobbed as he got you closer. It had been so long since sex had just been about you that maybe you should take advantage of being a pillow princess. What girl wouldn’t want her hot metal armed best friend to eat her pussy. Can’t believe you tried to turn this down. “Don’t stop!”

Not like he planned too. Especially as he dipped his fingers into your cunt. Twisting them around so he could find your spot.

“Ah!” You cried, as soon as he hit it. That’s his fucking girl. He watched as your face twisted up in pleasure. Could taste how close you were. How yummy you were.

“Buck!” Steve’s voice could be heard from the hallway as the door slammed closed.

You sat up, quickly. Pushing his head away and scooting away from him to smooth out your dress. Shit. Fuck. “Babe, it’s okay,” Bucky whispered.

What the hell does he mean it’s okay. His boyfriend was about to walk in on-

“Oh, Y/N, I didn’t know you were here,” Steve said as he came into the room. Placing a quick peck on Bucky’s lips making your mouth drop. He had to have tasted you on his lips. You found yourself feeling stuck as you sat up, making sure you were covered. “Is everything okay?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

Except it was like you couldn’t speak. What the hell were you supposed to even say as if his boyfriends face hadn’t just been close to making you squirt all over it.

“She caught Bryce cheating,” Bucky explained. Funny how that literally had not been on your mind this entire time.

Steve looked taken aback and scoffed. “What? No? Seriously?”

“Y-yeah… with… some girl,” you replied, not wanting to meet his eyes.

The super solider frowned as he grabbed your hand to pull you into a hug. Wrapping his arms around you. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. He’s a fucking idiot,” he said, much like his boyfriend when you’d first told him.

Only making you feel more horrible inside. How the hell could you do this to him. Especially after what Bryce had just done to you.

“It’s okay,” you said. “Maybe I should go.”

“And go where?” Bucky asked. “Not back to that apartment I can tell you that. Just stay here.”

The pair of panties Bucky had taken off of you were practically staring at you from the other side of the room. Steve’s back turned to it. “At least stay for dinner,” he said. “We can get whatever you want.”

Except even the suggestion made you feel more awful. Steve did not deserve this. If anything you should just say it. Not that the words would actually leave your lips. Tongue tied and all you could do was nod.

It was insane how quickly Bucky was able to act totally normal. Or that you were more frustrated that you never actually got the chance to finish. They were right though, you really didn’t have anywhere else to go, but here.

So there you sat right next to Bucky as the three of you ate the dinner Steve had ordered you. Trying to keep your cool as you didn’t want to bring too much attention to yourself. Even as you squirmed in your seat, trying to relieve some of the pressure. Bucky had really done a number on you. Could still feel his mouth on your lapping at your clit.

“So what happened?” Steve had finally asked from his spot across from the two of you. Obviously wanting to know everything. Not like you two weren’t normally close.

Your jaw dropped as you immediately tried to think of a lie. “Um, nothing,” you blurted out.

Bucky put his hand on your thigh, attempting to relax you except you were way too on edge. How could he just be touching you like this.

His boyfriend on the other hand raised an eyebrow at your outburst. “I thought you caught Bryce cheating?” He asked.

You closed your eyes. Duh he was talking about that. “I mean, I did,” you replied with a nervous laugh. “Yeah, he was with some girl.” You sighed.

“Well, what are you going to do now? You know we’re not going to let you go back. We have a perfectly fine guest room,” he said a smile on his face. Looking every bit of nice and sweet as he always did. The guilt already feeling like it was going to eat you up.

Didn’t even pay attention as you felt Bucky’s metal hands going up your thigh more. Getting dangerously close to the intimate place his face had just been buried inside of. You put your hand over it to move him, but he didn’t budge. Not giving a single shit.

You gulped at his fingers found their way up your dress again. Biting your lip as he chuckled. Not taking his eyes off of you as you struggled to answer. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Bullshit.” Bucky laughed. “You’re staying with us, Doll.”

You crinkled your nose which turned into biting the inside of your cheek, trying to hold in a moan. “We won’t take no for an answer.”

Well, that much was obvious.

——————————————————

The two of them helped you get settled in. You wore one of Bucky’s t-shirts since you literally didn’t have anything else. Had finally managed to grab your panties before you hoped Steve had seen them.

Your body still screaming out for release. Before giving you his shirt he’d whispered in your ear. “And you better not make yourself cum when you’re in the shower. Only I’m allowed to do that.” Wanting to prolong your torture.

What kind of shit was that. How did he get you so worked up like this. So easily. Hell that whole time you were with Bryce you can’t remember that happening. Not like you wanted to think about him.

The distraction was pretty nice, you had to admit. Who had time to think about being cheated on when your hot best friend was trying to eat your pussy.

As you opened the door you poked your head out, hesitating to call out to them. Hey, guys?” You called. Poking your head out from the restroom.

“Yeah?” Both of them were quick to chime in.

“Can you bring me some shirts!?” You asked. “I’m a little… exposed.”

You couldn’t see him, but Bucky snickered as Steve tilted his head at him. Both of them standing on either side of their king sized bed. “What?” Bucky said. “Oh come on I’m sure it’s fine,” Bucky tried to say with a straight face, but as soon as he was done he chuckled.

Steve shook his head, but couldn’t help the smirk that came on his face. “It’s really short,” you complained. “And I don’t have clean underwear.”

With that Bucky winked in his boyfriend’s direction. “Be right back.”

The smirk didn’t drop from the super soliders face as his boyfriend left the room. Only to go back to making up the third spot on the bed between them.

“What’s up, Doll?” Bucky asked seeing your head still sticking out.

“It’s too short,” you said, biting your lip.

He raised an eyebrow. Going to push the door open, not caring that you’d been blocking it. “Lemme see.”

“No!” You protested.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Oh come. You’re acting like I didn’t just eat you out,” he said.

“Steve is right outside,” you whispered harshly.

He rolled his eyes. “Steve’s in the room.”

“Yeah and he has super soldier hearing,” you pressed.

“It’s not all he has,” Bucky said under his breath. “Doll, you’re fine. I can’t even see anything.”

“My ass is out!” You gasped.

The man smirked at that, getting behind you to press your ass into his crotch. “And what a nice ass it is,” he whispered in your ear. Flesh hand landing on your breast to squeeze it and not giving a shit as you tried to swat him away. Going down your body until he was pushing up the shirt.

“We can’t!” You protested as his hand slipped down to your pussy. As bad as you wanted him to touch you, it didn’t seem wise. Fuck your body was practically crying for the release he couldn’t give you earlier.

“Everything okay?” Came the other man’s voice from outside the door.

Bucky scrunched his nose. “Yeah,” he called. Going to open up the door. “Tell her it’s not that bad,” he pressed.

You tried to tug it down so it was a little bit more past your thighs. Face heating up as Steve scanned up and down your body. “You look fine, Doll.”

Ugh. There the both of them go. The two of them were way too handsome to be having you stand here exposed with a dripping wet pussy. You bit your lip. Not like anyone else would see you. Just them. “Well… ok…” you sighed.

“Wanna watch a movie before bed?” Steve asked.

You nodded. Bucky put his hand on your lower back. Going down dangerously close to your ass. Only to finally come down to squeeze it tightly. Making you yelp. “Ah!”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows but laughed. “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” you squeaked, putting your hand over your mouth. Before making a pointed look at his boyfriend.

“Anyway, I was thinking we could watch a movie before bed,” Steve suggested.

“Actually, I’m kinda tired,” you immediately replied. Going to stretch your arms up and yawn until you remember how exposed you were.

“Oh come on, it’ll be fine,” Bucky said, nudging you.

“No. I have to be at work so early,” you replied. “It’s already way too late.”

“Hell no. You’re taking a sick day.” He looked appalled at the notion.

“I can’t.” You sniffled. “Besides, I’m off the next day. I’ll be fine.”

Bucky huffed. “Alright, fine, but what are you going to wear to work then?”

“I’ll just wash my clothes before we go to sleep,” you replied with a sigh. Haven’t exactly thought all of that through.

“So, movie it is?” Steve said.

Of course they’d get their way. Trying to keep your shirt from riding up too much as you went on your tippy toes to put your stuff in the wash. Closing your eyes when you realized your panties were still missing.

You peeked over to where they would have been. Except Steve would have definitely noticed them by now. “Looking for these?” Bucky asked. Holding up the pair. You immediately glanced over at where Steve was in the kitchen before reaching out to snatch them. “Ah, ah, ah,” he held them above his head. “Finders keepers, Doll,” he teased.

You let out a huff, crossing your arms. “Why are you being like this?” You asked. Honestly it was all so shocking. Normally he was such a sweetheart. He eats you out once and this is what he turns into?

Bucky shrugged. “Because I can,” he replied with a wink before leaning into kiss your cheek. “Now wipe that look off your face before I do it for you. You hear me?”

You nodded and sniffled. Wishing you’d gone anywhere else. Natasha’s maybe. Or hell even Sam’s place would have been fine. Not like you didn’t like how Bucky’s mouth had felt on you. It’s just now you were feeling terrible for doing all of this under Steve’s nose.

“Good girl,” he said, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

You sighed as he went back to the bedroom. Making you raise an eyebrow. Weren’t the three of you supposed to be watching a movie?

“Hey, Doll,” Steve said from his spot on the bed. Going through Netflix. “What movie did you wanna watch?”

“Oh? We’re watching in here?”

“Yeah?” He replied. “That a problem?”

You looked over at Bucky who despite not responding, had a smirk on his face that you wish you could wipe off of him. Sitting there smug with his hand in his pocket. No doubt toying with the pair of panties he’d stolen.

“Actually I think I’m just gonna go to bed after all,” you said. “I’m really tired.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Well, I forgot to set up the guest room.”

You crinkled your nose. Of course he did. “That’s ok. I can just sleep on the couch.”

“What?” Steve chimed in. “We have more than enough room for you, Doll. Come on.”

They had to be fucking with you. No way was Bucky getting what he wanted just like that. “No it’s fine. I’ll just get blankets from the linen closet.”

“Doll,” Bucky’s voice was stern. Commanding even. “Come. Here.”

You hated it when your feet started moving. Whether you wanted them to or not. “What?” You asked, not meeting his eyes as you stood in front of him.

“First of all, drop the attitude. Second, we told you, you’re sleeping in here so get over it.”

Steve watched the two of you, not saying a word. Didn’t he care that his boyfriend was trying to manipulate you? Right in front of him. Your bottom lip quivered, tears prickling at your eyes.

“I just wanna go to bed,” you whispered.

“Fine. There’s a perfectly good spot right between us. Is there a problem with that?” You shook your head. Not wanting to even argue anymore. Didn’t even feel worth it.

It was just too much for one night. All of it was. Can’t believe you hadn’t just started bursting out crying right between them.

Instead you tried to get some sleep. As restless as you were. Trying to keep yourself from tossing and turning since you didn’t want to bother them. Not like you had much room considering you were squeezed between two giant super soliders. “You ok?” Steve asked in a tired voice.

“Hm?” You hummed, not taking your eyes off the ceiling. “Can’t sleep.”

He yawned. “Hey, I know your ex was an ass, but you know Buck and I are going to be with you through this whole thing, right?”

You nodded, not saying out loud what was really on your mind. Fuck this was so wrong. Screwed up on so many levels. Too bad you didn’t kick Bryce out instead of coming over here, but at the time it was the natural thing to do.

Hell there was barely even any room between their giant bodies. Even in this large bed. Felt like if Bucky rolled over he’d end up squishing you. He’d gotten so damn close. Bad enough that the t-shirt they’d given you was sitting above your ass now.

“It’s ok I’ll be out before you guys even know it,” you said.

Steve scoffed. “Don’t be silly. You know you can stay here as long as you want. A city like this is no place for a little girl like you all alone.”

You scrunched up your nose at that. “I’m not a kid, Steve. I can take care of myself,” you assured.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to. Not as long as Bucky and I are around to do it.”

Speak of the devil, that was when he wrapped his arms around your waist. Pulling you against him. Ass going to his crotch. You let out a gasp and tried to wiggle away, but with Steve so close you were stuck. Not like you could get away from him anyway with the hold he had on you.

Not like you didn’t know that he was a cuddler. Not the first time the two of you had fallen asleep together. Never with your naked ass out though.

“It’s ok, Steve. Really,” you tried to assure him. As you were doing that, Bucky decided it would be a good time to sneak his hand between your legs. Taking advantage of you being bare. You let out a gasp, jumping as soon as his hand made contact.

“You ok?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh huh,” you squeaked out, trying to grab at his hands, but all he did was use one of his to hold yours down as he continued touching you.

“Hold still, little girl,” Bucky whispered in your ear, saying the last words in a mocking tone.

Your face felt hot as you looked forward at the blond. He had to know right. There was no way Bucky was just doing this right in front of him and he had no idea.

He pawed your thighs. Making sure they were nice and spread as his hand hands continued their torture. One going underneath the shirt to cup your breasts. Tweaking your nipples. He was groping you like he didn’t give a fuck about getting caught. Only made worse when his fingers finally touched your clit.

You bit your lip to keep yourself from crying out. Especially as he pushed you back so you were really pressed against him. Hard dick to your ass.

“I’m ok,” you tried to assure Steve. The words on the tip of your tongue. Pressure building in your stomach already as you’d never had the chance to finish earlier.

“When are you going to get your stuff?” Steve asked. “You know we’re going to come with you, right.”

Instead of fighting him you just replied, “T-thanks, Steve.”

“Always,” he said. “You know Bucky and I are always here for you.”

Well, obviously.

“I know we don’t say it a lot, but you mean a lot to us,” he said and all you could do was swallow as you felt his boyfriend’s fingers bringing you closer and closer to what you never got to have earlier. “And Bryce was such an asshole. He never deserved you.”

You swallowed down the moan that was threatening to bubble out of your mouth. Only made worse as you looked into Steve’s bright blue eyes as he sleepily looked over at you. Not like you hadn’t heard that a million times from both of them, but right now he just looked so freaky and-

“Ugh,” came out of your mouth which you quickly covered up with a cough.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Steve asked once again.

“Never better,” you lied through your teeth.

Steve yawned. “We should get some sleep. Goodnight, Doll.”With that he leaned forward pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. Catching you all the way off guard.

“Steve-,” you gasped, putting your hand up to your lips.

“What?” He asked with a chuckle.

“You can’t just-,”

“It’s not big deal,” he assured. “Bucky won’t care. It was just a little goodnight kiss.”

“Yeah, but-,”

He cut you off once more. “Unless you want it be to more,” he said with a wink.

What. The. Fuck.

“Goodnight, Doll,” he said not giving you a chance to say more as he closed his eyes. Smile on his face.

Bucky stopped what he was doing to put his face into your shoulder. Light snores coming from him. Hell his hand was still in your panties. Almost like he was making sure you couldn’t get away from him. The worst part about it was that not once did he let you fall off the edge.

You’d definitely need to start looking for places tomorrow.

[tpwk-formula1]

Kinktober Day 5 - Corruption - LH44

Lewis Hamilton X Reader

I am more than willing to write a part 2 to this one shot as there was no sex in this one. I felt to keep the realism of the story it didn't feel right for the character to lose her virginity the same night she had her first kiss.

TW - Virgin, smut, oral (male and female receiving), NO ACTUAL SEX

WC - 3100+

Y/N POV

August 2024

Walking through the paddock I can't help but speed my way toward the Mercedes Hospitality knowing as soon as I got in there, there would be no more eyes on me. I mean I know realistically no one gives a fuck who I am but with all the hustle and bustle around me I can't help but feel anxious.

Once I am in the comfort of a quiet room in the hospitality I pull out my laptop and get right to work knowing I didn't have much time before I would need to be in the garage to take pictures for the official Mercedes accounts.

Being one of the main photographers for Mercedes definitely has its perks but being as quiet as I am it has been hard making friends with people.

As I am editing a photo of Kimi and George for Instagram I hear a soft knock on the door.

"Um, come in?" I stutter a little making it sound more like a question than a statement. When the door opens slowly I see Lewis's head peek in to see who was occupying one of the only empty meeting rooms in the whole hospitality.

"Oh hi Y/N," I hear Lewis say softly before he comes into the room and closes the door.

"Hi, Lew. How are you doing today?" I ask softly while still looking at my computer too intimidated to make eye contact with Lewis.

"I'm good, just trying to get away from all of the noise," Lewis tells me making me finally look up and nod my head softly.

"I get that," I tell Lewis softly finally closing my laptop to give him my full attention.

"What are you working on today?" Lewis asks me showing a real interest in my work.

"I'm actually working on more promotional photos for Kimi and George for next season," I tell Lewis making him smile.

"I've been working for Mercedes for the past 3 years and I'm gonna be completely honest it feels strange editing photos for the team without you in them," I tell Lewis for whatever reason. This makes him chuckle a little.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm happy you're doing what is best for your career," I double down in slight embarrassment hoping I didn't offend Lewis.

"I know what you mean. I don't think anyone even myself expected it," Lewis tells me in a reassuring voice to make sure I knew I didn't offend him in any way.

"I have a hard time grasping that you have worked for Mercedes for 3 years know and I feel like I barely know anything about you," Lewis tells me honestly making me smile a little.

"I don't think anyone really knows anything about me if I'm being completely honest," I tell him.

"Well tell me about yourself then," Lewis says with a smile on his face.

"Well, what do you want to know?" I ask back in a softer tone than I intended.

"Whatever you want," Lewis tells me leaving the ball in my court. I can feel my anxiety start to grow slightly from the pressure of having to tell him about myself.

"Well, I'm from Brisbane and grew up with 2 older brothers and a little sister. I always loved taking pictures when I was really little, so it makes sense that I went on to become a photographer. I moved out on my own only a year ago when my parents retired and decided to sell our house and travel the world forcing me to finally leave the nest. I always grew up really quiet which made it really hard to get through school but eventually I made a core group of friends. I'm so sorry I'm rambling," I finally realize I'm word-vomiting to Lewis.

"No I enjoy listening to you talk. Keep going if you'd like," Lewis tells me clearly interested in what I have to say.

"Well then, my dad was always into Formula 1 and even put my little brothers into karting but they both were shit and it was too expensive to get them the proper training and equipment to help them be good. I ended up being the only one into racing like him so we would go to the Australian Grand Prix together every year. That was when I knew I was gonna be a Formula 1 photographer someday. You were actually the first driver I ever met. I was like 13 and this awkward quiet kid and my dad had surprised me with paddock passes. You signed the hat I was wearing and just all around really sweet. You ended up winning that year and I was so excited," I tell him some more looking up to realize Lewis is smiling and clearly listening to every word I was saying.

"Oh wow, I knew you were young I didn't realize how young you were. I'm assuming that was 2015?" Lewis's comments make me nod and laugh a little.

"Ya I turned 22 back a few months ago," I comment softly which has him nodding his head.

"Tell me more, I haven't heard you talk this much and if I'm being honest I love your voice," Lewis tells me making my cheeks grow red in a blush. I don't know the last time someone had complimented me.

"Well, when I went to Uni everyone tried to convince me to pick a more reliable career, but I knew what I wanted. As soon as I graduated I started applying to every position in photography F1 could offer and basically, now I'm here. Uh, I've never had my first kiss, matter a fact I've never even had a boy frie-," I finally cut myself off realizing I was starting to anxiously ramble about the most embarrassing aspect of my life.

When I look up at Lewis in sheer embarrassment I notice a look in his eyes that I had never seen before. It wasn't a bad thing but it made my body heat up in a way I had never felt before.

PRESENT TIME

"Y/n can I kiss you," Lewis asks softly. We are standing in my small apartment after another one of the many dates we have been going since the day in the meeting room. After I embarrassingly spilled my guts about never being in a relationship Lewis matched my energy by admitting he had been in a relationship since the one he got out of in 2015.

A few weeks after that conversation and many more after he finally asked me out on a date. I was worried given our drastic age difference however over time I realized it wasn't a problem if we didn't make it one.

"Yes," I finally whisper out before feeling Lewis's lips graze mine softly. When he finally places his lips on mine and starts to kiss me I instantly start kissing back, not entirely confident in my ability but I knew that whatever I was doing felt good. I could feel the start of a heat rising in me, one I only felt when I was with Lewis but this time it was stronger that I had ever felt before.

This being my first kiss I lose my breath fairly quickly so I'm pulling back gasping in softly. When I make eye contact with Lewis I notice the look he gave me back in the office.

"Was I okay?" I ask nervously not entirely confident in my previous actions.

"Baby, it was perfect. But just to be sure should we try again?" Lewis asks softly making me laugh a little at how cheesy he was being. Instead of using my words I pull Lewis closer by his neck and crashing my lips against his.

This time when I part my lips slightly I feel Lewis slip his tongue into my mouth making me instantly gasp at the feeling before following suit and allowing my tongue to tangle with his. In the midst of out make out session I feel Lewis pick me up and placing my thighs on either side of his waist and moving us towards my room.

When we get into my room he softly lays me on my mattress.

"Is this all you want tonight?" Lewis asks me before he moves any further.

"No, Lew I need something," I tell him softly.

"Pretty girl, what do you need?" Lewis asks me back while looking into my eyes.

"I don't know how to explain it. I've never felt like this before," I tell him honestly. While I was completely innocent and had never even masturbated I can only assume this is what it feels like to be turned on but I'm far too embarrassed to admit it.

"I think you do know what you need," Lewis tells me urging me to be honest with him. I close my eyes refusing to look at him before I say, "I need you to touch me."

"Are you sure?" Lewis asks softly which has me opening my eyes and making eye contact with him.

"If you're sure," I tell him not wanting him to feel the need to do something just becaus I wanted something.

"No, this is about you. Are you ready?" Lewis says repeating himself but using a more stern voice and vocab.

"Yes," I tell him firmly when I get a sudden rush of confidence. I instantly feel Lewis's hands graze my sides slowly pulling my top up exposing the lacey white bra I had worn today. I lift my body slightly to allow Lewis to pull my shirt completely off. Once it is completely off Lewis immediately brings his hands down to my tits to grip them through my bra.

"Fuck Lew," I moan out the second I feel Lewis's hands.

Lewis starts kissing down my neck making his way to my covered tits but they didn't stay covered for long because Lewis was helping me sit up slightly to unclip and pull off my bra. Once I'm free from my bra Lewis brings his lips back down to mine where he slowly lays me back down where he starts his trail of kisses again.

When he reaches my tits he almost instantly takes one of my nipples into his mouth while playing with the other.

"Lewis," I whine out dragging his name slightly from the pleasure. I feel Lewis slightly smile against me before moving to the other tit to suck my other nipple into his warm mouth.

While he is still pleasuring my tits I feel him move his hands down to the jeans I was wearing where I could feel Lewis starting to unbutton them before slowly pulling them down with my already soaked panties. Once my jeans are fully off Lewis slowly trails his kisses from my tits down my stomach.

"Lewis, hurry up," I tell him while getting impatient with him.

"patience, pretty girl," Lewis tells me still not going where I want him the most.

I start to feel Lewis, ghost kisses all over my thighs making me gasps out in shock.

"Please," I whine out to Lewis growing more impatient by the second.

Lewis finally brought his mouth to my pussy taking a long strip from my virgin hole to my aching clit.

"Fuck, Lew," I gasp out the second his tongue grazes my clit.

While Lewis was keeping a steady pace he was eating me out like it was the last meal he was ever going to eat.

"I think- fuck Lewis, something's happening," I stutter out when I feel an overwhelming pleasure I had never once felt before. My words only spurred Lewis's movements to pick up pace bringing me closer to the edge.

"Oh, fuck, fuck," I moan out the second my body was thrown over the edge for the first time ever. Lewis continued to eat me out to help me ride out my orgasm that felt like it was going to last forever.

When I finally come down from the intensity of my orgasm, my legs still shaking from the intense pleasure Lewis lays down next to me pulling me into in chest.

"Thank you," I whisper out to Lewis not really sure how to have pillow talk. Lewis just chuckles a little before placing a kiss on my forehead.

When I shift around a little I feel something poking my side. When I reached down to see what it was it had Lewis gasping at the touch. When it finally registered in my brain what I was touching I make eye contact with Lewis while still rubbing him threw his jeans.

"Y/N if you keep doing that I'll cum in my pants," Lewis gasps out through a light laugh.

"Then take your pants off," I finally gather enough courage to take the lead knowing if I did something wrong Lewis wouldn't judge me.

"This was about you tonight," Lewis tells me while his breathing began to grow labored signifying he was growing closer to cumming. When I realize he wasn't going to help me help him out I sit up all the way before climbing on top of Lewis and sitting on his legs so I can still unbotton his pants and pull his hard cock out of the jeans that had grown to be comfortably tight. at some point in the night Lewis had lost his shirt, making it easy to place soft kisses all over his chest.

Once I finally get Lewis's hard cock out of his jeans I look up to Lewis and ask, "I wanna make you feel good, please."

"Fuck, whatever your comfortable with, pretty girl," Lewis finally says giving me full permission to explore his cock and body.

I take my time exploring Lewis's body with my mouth. Spotting tattoos I had never seen before, which I softly traced with my finger before making my way down to his cock which was starting to leak precum with how hard he was.

I slowly start jerking his cock off while holding eye contact with Lewis. I can see how Lewis's breathing was starting to pick up again before his eyes rolled back signifying he was experiencing pure pleasure. When I realize his eyes were going to stay closed I decided to shock the both of us by leaning down and pulling the tip of his cock into my mouth.

The second my tongue started teasing his tip Lewis's eyes flew open realizing it was no longer my hands that were touching him.

"Y/N what are you doing," Lewis gasps out when I start slowly taking him further in my mouth trying to test the waters. Instead of answering him, I start bobbing my head trying to bring him more pleasure.

"Fuck, so good baby," Lewis moans out which only encourages me to go faster, which resulted in me going a bit too fast and hitting my gag reflex making me gag quite hard around Lewis's cock which instantly had Lewis gathering my hair in his hands and pulling me off.

"You've got to take it a little slower, pretty girl. This isn't some kind of race," Lewis tells me while I'm still gasping lightly for some air while allowing a couple tears to fall.

"I wanna make you feel good, besides, I kinda liked it," I admit making my cheeks heat up. I can't believe I just admitted to enjoying it when choked myself on Lewis's cock.

"You liked it huh?" Lewis teased me slightly making my cheeks grow more red.

Instead of answering him I went back to work with my mouth this time being a little less cautious with my movements which resulted in me occasionally gagging around his cock.

"Who knew my pretty girl was such a dirty slut," Lewis moaned out making me moan out around his cock from the degrading word.

"You like being called a slut don't you?" Lewis questioned which had me nodding my head the best I could with my mouth still full of his cock.

It doesn't take long before Lewis is grasping my hair to try and pull me off his cock.

"Baby, if you keep doing that I'm gonna cum in your mouth," Lewis gasped out while still trying to pull me off but instead of pulling back I pushed my head down as far as I could making me gag and choke a bit around his cock. This sent Lewis over the edge making him cum straight down my throat. He's still cumming when I pull back slightly to bob my head a little to help him ride his orgasm out the same way he had done to me.

When Lewis was done cumming I pulled off his cock with some of his cum still in my mouth.

"You can spit it baby," Lewis tells me softly but instead of listening I swallowed down every last drop and even licked the little bead of cum that was still left on the tip of his dick.

"What the fuck," Lewis gasps at how the girl who never even kissed a boy an hour ago was now licking his cock clean.

"Was I okay Lew?" I finally ask once we are cuddled up comfortably.

"Are you sure that was your first time?" Lewis joked clearly having enjoyed himself.

"Ya, I liked it though. I wanna do it again and again. I liked when yo called me the dirty name too," I tell him too embarrassed to say it myself.

"I don't remember what I said," Lewis says clearly wanting the dirty words to slip past my lips.

"I- uh, well you called me a slut," I whisper out which makes me realize how insane I was for enjoying such a term.

"Ya? Do you wanna be my little slut pretty girl?" Lewis asked softly making my thighs clench together. I just nod my head too embarrassed to say it again.

"No, I want words. Who are you?" Lewis said a bit sterner than he had ever talked to me before.

"I'm your dirty slut, Lew," I tell him while making direct eye contact with him. While I was embarrassed to say it out loud I couldn't help but bask in the pleasure it was to say that. I enjoyed being a little slut for Lewis and while I was still a virgin I couldn't help but be excited to explore everything more with Lewis.

"Get some rest pretty girl with a mouth and pussy as good as yours I will be going in for seconds before the clock strikes midnight," Lewis tells me making me cuddle further into his side and falling into a light sleep. Lewis kept his promise, by morning time he had managed to make me cum a dozen more times with just his mouth and fingers.

[imaginespazzi]

On The Road To Eternity

Three times Paige and Azzi fall asleep together and the one time they stay awake

(In which a kind writer gives y'all the last dose of real fluff before committing to angst for the next few months)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Words: 4.0K

TW: Light swearing, alcohol, Azzi's ACL injury

A/N: Hello my lovelies! So I know you're all waiting for something else and I promise I am working on it too! But I had a couple of requests I wanted to get through first and the easiest thing as always, was to combine some of them into one fic. So for anons who wanted the plane convo, injury-related comfort and more Miles and Sienna content, this is for you! This is set in Eternity-verse but you obviously don't have to read either of those to understand this. The editing in this might actually be non-existent but I hope y'all forgive me anyways. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see in the future. Enjoy the fluff lovelies, we're in for a bumpy ride next time <3

the playful conversation starts, counter all your quick remarks

Paige’s mouth is running dry. She’s been babbling on and on for almost two hours and the girl next to her has barely spoken two sentences. In Paige’s defense, she’s not really fully in control of her word vomit right now. Her brain is currently in the grasp of her nervous anxiety and the fear that if she lets silence linger between them, the brunette next to her would realize too quickly that maybe Paige’s brilliant idea to switch their seats so they could be next to each other, wasn’t such a brilliant idea after all. 

This feeling is foreign to Paige. She’s always been the epitome of confidence, always so sure of herself, always convinced that the person in front of her must want to be her friend. But something about Azzi Fudd is different. It’s not like Azzi’s been cold or anything, but she seems immune to Paige’s charm, eyes always a little weary of what ridiculousness Paige is going to get herself into next. But really, Paige thinks, it’s Azzi’s fault that the blonde had been up to one too many shenanigans during USA Basketball. Because if every time Paige pulls off a trick, Azzi’s going to smile like that, like Paige is the funniest human being in the world, then she’s going to do it over and over again. 

“You um-,” Paige looks down, fiddling with her thumbs, “you can tell me to shut up you know. I get a little too excited about basketball sometimes.”

“I think you get a little too excited about most things,” Azzi says and when Paige looks up at her, there’s a teasing grin playing on the younger girl's lips. 

“Life’s too short to not be excited about things,” Paige says solemnly. 

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “what book did you steal that from- actually never mind, I doubt you read.”

“Hey, I do read!” Paige shrieks in mock offence and Azzi bursts out laughing. And Paige barely knows this girl, doesn’t even know her middle name yet, but she thinks that Azzi’s laughter, like wind chimes ringing through the mountains, might be her favourite sound in the whole wide world. 

It takes Azzi a second to compose herself, before she looks at Paige with earnest eyes, “I like listening to you talk.”

“Be careful Fudd. I might never shut up,” Paige smirks cockily but inside, her chest feels a like it’s bursting at the compliment. Five simple words and it feels a little bit like all of Paige’s insecurities are being soothed over, a sense of calm washing all over her. She doesn’t understand the butterflies in her stomach and she definitely doesn’t understand the fluttering in her chest but she knows that she likes this feeling, knows that she likes Azzi. 

“You say that but you’ve already gone quiet on me Bueckers,” Azzi cocks her head, “whatcha thinking?”

“I’m thinking we’re gonna be great friends.”

“You think so? I'm a little picky about my friendships.”

“I know so. I'm gonna be the best friend you've ever had," Paige vows.

And when Azzi smiles, it’s not a smile that Paige has seen in the last week. It’s one that’s entirely different, one filled with something both of them are too young to understand and it’ll take years before either of them realize that it’s Azzi’s Paige smile. It'll take years before they realize Paige has her own matching Azzi smile.

This time as Paige starts up a conversation again, Azzi has more input. Time seems to stop and speed up all at the same time as the two girls cover every topic imaginable, occasionally getting annoyed shushing looks from other passengers when they giggle a little too loudly. All that does is make them share conspiratorial smiles and laugh just a little bit harder. It’s almost three-quarters of the way into the flight when their voices start getting scratchy, sleep inching its way onto their features as they slowly fall into silence. 

Paige will never admit this but she’s a little scared of the quiet. Well, actually, she’s scared of being alone, and the quiet feels a lot like solitude. Her whole life she’s tried her best to keep herself surrounded by chaos, by noise, filling up the space with her own voice if nobody else wanted to talk. And if there was nothing, at least there was the sound of a basketball being dribbled on the hardwood floor. The whole plane is asleep and all she can focus on is Azzi’s soft breathing next to her as the brunette falls deeper and deeper into her dreams. And for the first time in her life, Paige doesn’t mind the quiet. 

***

Azzi stirs awake to the cabin crew announcing they’re only a couple of minutes away from landing. She cricks her neck, feeling a heaviness on her right and when she turns to look, there’s Paige Bueckers. Blonde hair sprawled all over Azzi's arm as the point guard uses Azzi’s shoulder as her own personal pillow. Her eyes are shut tight, mouth a little ajar with drool pooling at the corner of her lips. Azzi blinks down at her, unsure why her heartbeat is erratic, unsure why she thinks Paige might be the most beautiful creature she’s ever seen. 

Azzi wills herself to stay deathly still, convincing herself that it’s because she doesn’t want to wake Paige up. After all, they’d had a long week and the point guard deserved a break after having done everything in her power to make sure the team won gold. But really, the truth is Azzi doesn’t want Paige to wake up because then Paige will move away and Azzi’s beginning to realize she quite likes having Paige asleep on her, she's beginning to realize, that maybe she just likes having Paige with her.

2. the lingering question kept me up, 2 am who do you love 

“And then Coach made me run laps for an hour. AN HOUR,” Paige says animatedly, placing her phone on her pillow, as she flips herself to lie on her stomach, “and now I’m sore everywhere.”

“Aww you poor baby,” her best friend’s voice mocks through the facetime call that’s been running since midnight, “maybe next time you should just try and practice well.”

“Who’s side are you even on?” Paige guffaws. 

Azzi laughs, her head leaning back against the headboard as she gets comfortable, “his duh. After all, he could be my future coach. Gotta stay on his good side.”

“What do you mean could?” Paige narrows her eyes, “he will be your coach.”

“I dunno dude. The way you’ve been complaining about practice since you got there, I don’t know if I wanna be a part of that.”

“Don’t think you can handle it?” Paige smirks, knowing exactly what buttons to push as she watches Azzi’s calm expression turn to one of fierce competition. 

“I would kick your butt at practice,” Azzi says determinedly and Paige’s smirk widens. 

“Well you should commit to UConn and find out.”

“May I w-” Azzi stops, groaning as she realises what Paige is doing. 

“Go ahead and finish that sentence for me.”

“Fuck off,” Azzi whines, grabbing a pillow to bury her head into and it’s ridiculous the way Paige is so endeared by it. But then again, she’s endeared by most things Azzi. 

“I didn’t do anything,” Paige sing-songs, “that was all you bro.”

“You tricked me.”

“I did no such thing. I am a woman of God. I would never.”

“Don’t bring God into your deception Paige,” Azzi chastises as they both delve into laughter. That’s their friendship in a nutshell. Conversations well past midnight, filled with bickering and giggling. And the truth is, that all throughout the day, as she goes through the motions of UConn life, this is what Paige looks forward to. Coming back to her dorm, falling into bed, picking up the phone and finding Azzi on the other side. And even if doesn’t do nearly enough to soothe the ache of how much she craves Azzi’s physical presence, at least for a while she can close her eyes and pretend, just by the sound of her best friend’s voice, that she’s here with her. 

“You’d fit in really well Az,” Paige says after a moment, chewing at her lip, “I know your game better than anyone and I know you’d thrive here.”

Azzi sighs, “I don’t feel like doing this tonight Paige.”

They’re balancing on a thin rope when it comes to Azzi’s commitment. As the deadline approaches, the younger girl, also known as the most indecisive person Paige knows, has gotten more and more tense with every day. What had started as Azzi rolling her eyes whenever Paige pushed a little too hard, had begun to delve into Azzi shutting down the moment Paige brought the topic up. 

“I just think-”

“Stop thinking,” Azzi bites out harshly before she lets out a deep breath, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that I just- I need everyone to stop talking to me about it.”

“We’re just tryna help,” Paige says slowly, lying on her elbows as she props her phone up against her side table. 

“I know. I know. But I just need y’all to trust that I know what’s best for me.”

I’m what’s best for you, Paige thinks but she can’t say that out loud, not when it’s veering just a little too close to the biggest reason why Paige wants Azzi at UConn, one that has absolutely nothing to do with basketball, one that has everything do with that scary fucking l-word Paige isn’t sure she’ll ever be ready to confront. 

Instead she gives her best friend a soothing nod, “you know I trust your judgement.”

“You should,” Azzi smiles and Paige feels warm all over, “it’s definitely better than yours.”

Paige rolls her eyes, “you say the sweetest things to me Azzi Fudd.”

“I try,” Azzi whispers before a loud yawn escapes her, as she rolls over to lie on her side.

“You abouta fall asleep on me bro?” Paige raises an eyebrow. 

“Of,” another yawn, “course not.”

Paige shakes her head, mentally counting down in her head as she watches Azzi’s eyes start to blink. For her part, the younger girl tries to keep talking, mumbling something about some tv show she’d watched that day. Paige barely registers any of it, too busy admiring how pretty Azzi looks in the dim glow of her night light. She can feel her own body starting to drift away as well, giving into what’s basically become routine. And maybe their phones only have enough charge for them to get a small glimpse of each other stirring awake before the call unceremoniously. But it’s enough. For now, even if it’s just through a screen, falling asleep to the sound of each other breathing, and waking up to those precious few seconds of each other being the first thing they see in the morning, is enough. 

3. now i’m pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door

The music roars around her as Paige lets herself be immersed by the dancing crowd. It’s a Thursday night, but after a decisive win over Maryland by the women’s team, all of Storrs is partying like it’s already the weekend. While the bar was always an option, the team had decided to throw an impromptu party in one of the apartments instead and word seemed to have spread a little too quickly throughout campus. 

Paige is distracted as she dances with KK and Aubrey, eyes constantly drifting to the door in anticipation of her girlfriend. Azzi had reassured she’d show up after the Fudds, who were helping Azzi decorate for Christmas, left but the clock is ticking closer and closer to midnight and there’s still no sign of the brunette anywhere. 

“Has Azzi texted any of y’all?’ Paige tries to yell over the music, after checking her own phone and finding nothing. Both KK and Aubrey shake their heads and Paige sighs, concern flooding into her brain. Out of the corner of her eye she notices Caroline beelining for the door and call it instinct, but Paige immediately knows it has something to do with Azzi. 

“I’ll be right back okay,” she says to her other teammates, before following the Massachusetts native.

She’s not sure how Caroline did it so easily, but it takes Paige far longer than it should to get through the crowd and out the door.Azzi’s apartment is eerily quiet by the time Paige reaches it. The newly setup Christmas lights around the living room have been turned off and even the fairy lights on the Christmas tree are set to a dim setting. For a second, Paige wonders if maybe Azzi isn’t even in here and then she hears it, a heartbreakingly familiar sob. As she walks towards Azzi’s door, Paige feels her own heart start to crack. 

When the injury had happened in practice, there were two people who had immediately known what it was. The person it happened to and her person who’d just been through it. Azzi had taken it shockingly well from the moment it happened til the doctor had confirmed what they’d all known, but still hoped to be wrong about. A steely determined look had covered her face, as instead of mourning another setback, she’d thrown herself into planning out her recovery. But Paige had always been able to see through Azzi’s façade and she’d known it was only a matter of time before the inevitable crash. 

Paige stops outside the door, unsure if she should go in as she listens to the sound of Azzi’s tears and Caroline’s soothing “it’s gonna be okay.”

“It’s not,” Azzi breathes out between sobs and it feels like a shard of glass is being used to puncture Paige's soul, “I can’t do this again Carol. It’s too much. I can’t keep doing this again and again. Why does this keep happening to me?”

“I know,” Caroline whispers, sounding as helplessly defeated as Paige feels, “I’m so sorry Azzi.”

“No, I'm sorry. Fuck Carol, you should be down at the party-”

“I should be here with you because you need me,” Caroline hesitates, “but I also don’t think it’s me you need.”

“Don’t,” Azzi’s voice is firmer now and Paige can picture her wiping her tears as she gives Caroline that patented don’t push me look. 

“Azzi-”

“Did you see how happy she looked after the game? I can’t ruin that for her. She was so good tonight and I’m so proud of her and I can’t- I won’t ruin that for her. She’s been through so much this year and she deserves to celebrate without- without me there ruining her moment.”

You stupid silly girl with your heart of gold, Paige thinks, shaking her head as she throws the door open. 

“Oh thank god,” Caroline mutters under her breath, moving a little so that Paige can see all of Azzi’s, sitting rigidly on her bed with her legs hanging off one side. Tear tracks stream down the younger girl’s face, her hands fisted in her laps as she stares at Paige with watery eyes. She’s still dressed in her tracksuit from the game, the sticker Paige had placed over her heart, still exactly where she’d put it. An air of fragility clings to Azzi’s frame and Paige wants to bubble wrap her girlfriend and hide her away from this cruel world that seems to test their strength at every step of the way. 

“For someone so smart Azzi Fudd, you say the dumbest shit sometimes,” Paige whispers, crouching down in front of the brunette, and uncurling her fists so she can hold her hands, “you think I can celebrate without you?”

“I didn’t wanna be a buzzkill,” Azzi mumbles, eyes looking anywhere but at Paige, “I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“Baby,” Paige breathes out, bringing Azzi’s knuckles to her lips, “was I a burden to you last year?”

That gets Azzi to look at her, as a fierceful protectiveness clouds the other girl’s eyes, “of course not P. You could never be a burden.”

“Then how the fuck, did you ever think Azzi, that you could be a burden to me?”

Azzi’s bottom lip trembles, a fresh set of tears threatening to fall from her eyes. And then she’s falling off the bed, straight into Paige’s arms, hands tightening around the older girl’s neck as she buries her face in her chest. 

“I’ve got you baby,” Paige whispers into her hair, her own eyes stinging as she runs her hands up and down the shaking brunette’s back, “I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

She doesn’t know how long she sits on the floor, tank top a little soaked from all of Azzi’s tears but she doesn’t move until Azzi stills herself in her arms, having basically cried herself to sleep. Paige gets up slowly, trying her best not to wake up the girl in her arms, as she somehow manages to manoeuvre both of them onto the bed. Azzi lets out a quiet whimper, snuggling further into Paige’s side. 

Staring down at the vulnerable girl in front of her, Paige finally lets her own tears fall, biting her lip and almost drawing blood, to keep herself from making a sound. A lot of things had gone wrong in the last year but it was all supposed to have been worth it this year when they’d finally get to live out the dream they’d been dreaming since they’d first met, the dream to play together. And now that's gone, for now at least. But as Azzi subconsciously runs a hand down Paige’s arm, her sixth sense alerts even in sleep that her girlfriend needs comfort, Paige thinks, at least they have each other. Because as she lies down next to Azzi, pulling her girlfriend closer to her chest, she knows she’s never letting go. 

4. this was the very first page, not where the storyline ends

Paige swears she’s only closed her eyes for 10 seconds when the baby monitor goes off again. Loud screaming fills the entirety of the master bedroom, as she groans into her pillow. For the most part, her twins are angels on earth. Except when the clock passes 3 a.m and they seem to get possessed by demons that make them scream bloody murder until one of their moms picks them up. 

“Azzi,” she whines into her pillow, reaching over to lightly smack her wife’s arm, “your children are awake.”

She doesn’t need to see the younger woman’s face to know that even with sleep in every corner of her eye, Azzi is currently shooting Paige the most exasperated glare possible. 

“Suddenly they’re my kids? Gosh Paige I wish you’d told me that before I put your name on the fucking birth certificate,” Azzi quips as she rolls out of bed and Paige immediately missed the warmth next to her, “if you’re not up in five minutes to help me with this, I swear to god I will divorce your ass.”

“How are you awake enough to threaten me like that right now?” Paige mumbles, sighing to herself as she separates from her beloved bed. The tiredness hits her the moment she stands up and she almost keels over, until a strong arm wraps around her waist. And despite the ridiculous time, despite the noise that is still echoing throughout their room, despite the fact that she can barely see her in this darkness, as soon as Paige can feel Azzi’s skin underneath her fingertip, she can’t help but press her lips against her wife’s. Paige almost, almost loses herself in the kiss until there's a shriek, too loud to ignore. 

“What if we didn’t put a baby monitor in their room anymore,” she mutters against Azzi’s lips, eliciting a small laugh from her wife as she entwines their hands together, practically dragging Paige from the master bedroom into the twin’s shared nursery.

Miles and Sienna are both standing in their cots, facing each other and screaming their heads off as if they’re in some sort of who can ruin our moms night better competition and if Paige wasn’t one of the moms in question, she’d probably find the scenario a tad bit more amusing. Shaking her head, she walks towards Miles as Azzi goes towards Sienna and it’s a little bit ridiculous how quickly the cries begin to subside. She’d never admit it but secretly Paige loves how quickly the twins calm down as soon as they see their mothers, even if it is after yelling at an ungodly hour in the morning. They’re too young to be able to say the words, and so Paige is pretty sure this is their way of making sure Mommy and Mama know how much Miles and Sienna love them. 

“Hey buddy,” Paige coos as she picks Miles up, his tearful face breaking out into a magnificent grin, “didn’t feel like letting us sleep again huh kid?”

Miles doesn’t say anything, just smiles as he makes grabby hands for Paige’s face. She’s learned it’s one of his favourite things to do with her or Azzi, reach for them and use his tiny fingers to caress their faces. It’s like he’s memorising how they feel and Paige can’t help but lean into his touch. Behind her she can hear Sienna giggling and when she turns around, she’s not surprised to find Azzi pressing kisses all over their daughter’s face. And she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of seeing this vision, the love of her life interacting with their kids. 

“Muh,” Miles manages to spit out the minute he spots Azzi, jostling in Paige’s arms, clearly eager to get to his other mother. The sound gets Sienna’s attention and her face widens as she spots Paige. Laughing, Paige and Azzi share a secret smile as they swap children. Miles immediately buries his face into his favourite spot in the crease between Azzi’s neck and shoulder and Sienna’s immediately enamoured with Paige’s blond hair, chubby finger combing through it as she looks at her mother in awe. 

“You’re wide awake aren’t you Si-Si,” Paige whispers, laughing when Sienna nods. She walks them over to the couch, Azzi and Miles following behind. As soon as both Paige and Azzi are seated, Miles and Sienna are reaching for each other, babbling silly nonsense and giggling. Paige doesn’t know a lot about babies but she’s pretty certain her twins have their own secret language they speak to each other in. 

Their family of four settles into the couch, that’s bound to be dented soon by the constant weight of all four of them on it every night. It’s unlikely any of them will return to their own beds, unlikely Paige and Azzi will even get any more sleep tonight. Over the top of the twins' head, Paige eyes meet Azzi’s. They’re droopy with sleep, but crinkled from the way she’s smiling and Paige is still as much in love with them now, as she was an eternity ago. 

“I love you,” she whispers, just because she can. 

Azzi’s smile widens, one hand navigating through their children between them to hold Paige’s, “I love you more.”

“I love you the most,” Paige counters and Azzi shakes her head as she squeezes Paige’s hand. 

It’s a silly little thing but they wouldn’t be Paige and Azzi if they didn’t bicker over it just a little bit. Because at the end of the day they both know, there's no one they’d rather fall asleep with, no one they'd rather stay awake with, no one they’d rather be on this journey of life with, other than each other.