#EVERYONE BEEEE QUIET. LOOK AT THEM

[katistry]

you had my heart and promised you would always be true.

[animefankotaro]

Trans Ayumi

Conan aka Shinichi was in class learning the same material he did 10 years ago. Bored he looked at his little group of friends. Genta was looking at his lunchbox no dought hungry like he usually was. Mitsuhiko was writing everything the teacher said down as if this were actually important. Then he looked at Ayumi who seemed lost in thought. After a moment she raised her hand.

“Yes. Miss Yoshida.” The teacher asked.

“May I use the restroom, Ma'am?” Ayumi asked.

“Yes you may.” Aymu did a shout bow before moving but the teacher said something quietly to her first though Shinichi could still hear it.

“Do you have your special pass, Ayumi?” Ayumi nodded. “Okay. I asked just in case someone tried to stop you.” The teacher whispered. Ayumi bowed again and left leaving Shinichi confused.

Later in class after she returned all the kids were talking about what they wanted to be when they grew up.

“I want to be a superhero.” Genta said.

“I want to work at NASA.” Mitsuhiko told everyone.

“I think i'll beeee... an investment banker.” Conan lied. He couldn't let anyone know he wanted to be a detective.

“Investment banker?” Mitsuhiko questioned.

“That sounds boring.” Genta looked unimpressed.

“At least mine is realistic. Superhero. Shinichi thought and rolled his eyes.

What about you Ayumi.” The teacher asked. Ayumi was quiet a moment before speaking.

“I think.... I wanna be a mommy.”

“A mommy? What kind of job is that. You don't get paid for that.” Genta chuckled.

“Neither do many superheroes.” Shinichi thought again.

“Quiet Genta.” The teacher said. She smiled at Ayumi. “I think that's a wonderful job. You would make a great mommy.”

.”Thank you. It's just.... I can't be a real mommy.” Ayumi looked down and cried a little. The kids looked confused.

“Now, Ayumi. Just because you're a little different doesn't make you any less a girl than me, the other girls in class, or your own mom. I know woman who were born right and still couldn't have babies of their own. But they became mommies anyway though other means. You're a wonderful little girl. One day you can do the same as those other moms; and maybe just maybe you can have children of your own if the doctors can help. Do you understand?” Ayumi nodded but was quiet. “I know it can be though at times but just believing in yourself.” Everyone looked at them before the teacher spoke again. “All right now where were we? Mika what do you want to be?” The class resumed to the grown up discussion. All except Shinichi who was looking at Ayumi.

When class was out the group were outside playing. They were passing a ball bath and forth to each other.

“You know you can't be a superhero, Gento.” Mitsuhiko said. “Superheroes either have powers or are rich and buy cool stuff and you are neither.”

“One day I'm going to be a trillionaire and I'll scientist give me powers so HA.” Genta pouted. “Besides, You can't work at NASA because you're scared if aliens.”

“I'm not scared of them anymore!” Mitsuhiko defended himself. “Conan! Which is more likely him being a superhero or me being in NASA!” Conan sweatdropped at this.

“Uh, well if you ask me neither. Genta can't be a superhero his mom wouldn't allow it and Mitsuhiko couldn't work at NASA because that would mean moving to America.” Both the boys looked down at that. It was true.

“It's still better than being a boring bank person.” Genta said. Conan just shook his head. Why did he hang out with these kids.

“So Ayumu.” Mitsuhiko asked. “What was with that whole thing in class about being a mommy and a girl?” Ayumi heart jumped at that.

“Yeah. That was really weird. Why would the teacher tell you you're a girl when you are a girl?” Gento added

“I know I'm a girl.” Ayumi said sturdy.

“It was just kind of weird.” Mitsuhko told her. “Are you like one of those woman who can't have babies?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“That kind of stinks. But in a way you're kind of like our mom.” Gento laughed.

“Yeah. You tell us not to do stupid things and make tasty snacks.” Ayui smiled to that.

“Thanks guys. It's just I'm not like the other girls in class. You wouldn't understand.”

“No problem. Now let's go eat because i'm starving.” Gento said.

Shinichi became even more curious of Ayumi. At school the next day he tried to do some searching but it proved to be hard with all the teachers around. He did find out she needed special permission for the girls bathroom. She also saw a counselor a couple times a week after school. Lastly he saw a comment that said “AMAB”. Even he didn't know what that meant. He still needed more clues. When he looked though a yearbook a couple years back he saw that Ayumi wasn't there. However, there was another kid with her last name Yoshida. A boy around the same age as she would have been was there. Was he related to her? He did look a lot like her. He needed to ask Ayumi.

“Hey Ayumi. Can I ask you something.” Conan asked.

“Sure Conan what is it?” Ayumi said cheerfully. She always loved talking to him alone.

“Do you have a brother?” Ayumi looked confused.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I was looking though a yearbook when I saw this photo.” He brought out the yearbook and showed her the picture. Ayumi's face went white. “Is he your brother. He even looks like he can be your twin.” “No. I've never seen him before.” Ayumi nervously said.

“It's even weirder that you aren't in here. I thought you started at this school.”

“I did. I guess they just forgot me. I'm sorry Conan but I need to go home.” Before he could say anything else she ran off. Shinichi watched as she left. He thinks he has the clues. The bathroom pass, the commant about being a mom and girl, the yearbook photo. He just needs to put it all together now. The next day he went to Ayumis house.

“Welcome, Conan.” Her mom said. “Ayumi will be out in a moment. You can wait out here.” He sat on a sofa. While Ayumi was getting ready he looked around a little. He got a good look at some pictures and some old toys in a closet. Finally he saw a piece of paper on a desk. Ayumi probably left it there. He solved it. Ayumi came down and greeted him.

“Hi Conan I'm glad you could come.” They sat and talked while her mom got them some snacks. After a while Shinichi decided to get to reason.

“You know, Ayumi. Yesterday I saw a show about a girl living as a boy. She.. or he wore boys clothes, went by a boys name, and went to school as a boy.”

“Really?” Ayumi looked surprised. Conan nodded.

Yep. And just like you there were some yearbook photos that had a girl who looked like him with his last name. But it was him just before he became a boy.”

“I see.” Ayumi said looking a little white.

“He also had to have a special bathroom pass too. Hey don't you need a special pass?”

“Well...I”

“He was also described AFAB. Which means assigned female at birth. There's' also assigned male at birth which is when a boy lives as a girl. Also, he wants to be a dad like you want to be a mom. I just thought it was funny you and him have so much in common.” Ayumi was quiet.

“Conan.” Her mom said. “Maybe you should.

“You know what else I noticed. You have old boys toys you don't play with like he has old girls toys. And just like him I see in some of the old pictures in your house that you look like a boy. He looks like a girl in some of his.

“Conan I...” Ayumi tried.

“When I was waiting for you I looked at this paper on the table. It says this person was born on the same day as you with the same mom and dad. But they have a boys name and sex. It's just like with the boy living as a girl. He was called a trans boy” It was silent again “Before the other two could speak Conan did. “Are you a trans girl, Ayumi?” Silence again. Ayumi didn't have any words. She couldn't find any. She looked ready to cry. Her mom spoke.

“It's all right, sweetie. You are a very smart kid, Conan. Yes you are right. Ayumi is a trans girl.”

“Really?” Her mom nodded.

“For two years now she's been Ayumi. I won't say her old name out loud as she hates it. But she was my son. She became my daughter when she told me the truth. It was hard for me and her dad at first but we came to love her as our daughter.”

Wow.” Conan said. Ayumi started crying “Is something wrong, Ayumi?”

“No- now that you kn-know I'm not a re-real girl yo-you won't wanan be my-my fri-friend anymore!” She cried some more. However Conan got up and took her hands.

“You are a girl, Ayumi. You don't need to be a detective to see that. All the clues direct to inside you. Your heart tells you you're a girl. Sherlock would tell you that. Genta and Misuhiko could too. Sure, they're immature at times but they're your friends. They know you're a girl no matter what you look like on the outside or what a paper says.” He he pointed at her. “You are Ayumi Yoshida and you are a girl.” Ayumi wiped her tears

“You man that, Conan?” He nodded. Ayumi than hugged him which he returned. “You're the best detective ever.”

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part One)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Dreams turn into reality on smokey breaths. Inner turmoil melts away with the touch from warm skin. Promises make the evening decisions go from complicated to deliciously easy.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw soft drugs (marijuana)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 4421

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitersmoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy  @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic​ @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @petit-poussin @fedorable-killjoys​ @luvbadass​ @buttercup-beeee​ @navs-bhat​ @etaerealboyv​ @tryymebitch​ @mell-bell​ @fenhakwe​ @solacestyles​ @softforlukescurls​ @vicsangel​ @theimpossiblehologramtree​ @alina-exe​ @cherricola66​

***

Soft skin against his fingers. A hand running down his chest to his pants. Heavy breathing filling the room. The flesh underneath him felt warm and welcoming, hot to the touch and begging for more. Her perfume filled his senses as she pulled him close. Nails running down his back. Whispers of "amore mio, just like that", "keep going,” “cara mia, vita mia, please".

A “Dami, fuck” leaving her lips as his hand started gripping her thighs. Running between them, as she threw her head back, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling on it. Biting her neck. Coaxing more moans out of him, on a mission to make him lose his mind. She was heaven on earth. Supple breasts moving with every breath as he let his mouth descend on them, one at a time, desperate to consume all of her. Kissing every inch of her, exploring her until he knew about every curve, every ridge, every little spot of her body. He wanted to know all the secrets she ever had. Drawing noises out of her that he wanted to keep hearing for the rest of his life. Her hands on his shoulders, on his back, on his arse. Pulling him further into her. Letting his mouth wander lower, getting wrapped up between her legs. She looked at him with dark eyes, nodding, and he was ready to suffocate in between her thighs.

Wait, was he actually suffocating on her thighs?

Damiano woke up with a start, face pressed deeply into the pillow, restricting his breathing in a way that was much less sexy than the one in his dream. A circle of drool had escaped his mouth and dropped onto the pillow. Well, that's embarrassing, he thought to himself.

He was in the middle of pushing himself up and out of bed, highly aware of the situation in his boxers - only to be interrupted when a knock on the door startled him. Trying to wrap the sheet around him, suddenly overly self-conscious of his state, he hastened to the door, almost tripping several times on the way. When he finally unlocked and opened it, he just about let his head appear in the opening, awkwardly hiding between the door still. Y/n’s face was painted in confusion. He forgot how stunning she really was, his brain not even coming close to painting her image in his dreams.

“Yes, hi, good morning, I’m up! I’ll be down in an hour!” He was rushing to finish his sentence, not giving her a chance to reply before he let the door fall back into its lock. A deep breath out. Her face instilled in his mind like a photograph, unable to be separated from the extremely vivid dream he’d just had. He felt bad. He had essentially slammed the door in her face while wrapped up in a bedsheet. Not a very good impression considering he liked the woman behind the door. This was going to be such a long day.

***

“Why are you so awkward?” Victoria nudged Damiano as they had settled on a couch on the bus. He had been looking off since she had first seen him that morning, which was odd. Especially considering he was usually more of an early bird than the rest of them. “Sleep badly? Bad dreams? Good dreams? Or did you scare Y/n away again with another morning wood incident.”

Damiano’s face burned up as if suddenly ignited, making Victoria gasp.

“Oh my god, did you?!” She smacked his chest with her hand as she let out a gasp.

“I wasn’t even aware you knew about the first time,” Damiano mumbled, slumping down deeper into the seat. Crawling into the shirt he was wearing. Anything to get out of this conversation.

“Word travels fast on tour, you should know that by now,” she giggled, repositioning so she had her legs spread across his thighs. “So what happened?”

“I’m not going to talk about that with you,” he scoffed. Victoria’s grin only spread further, though. She was loving this side of Damiano more than she would like to admit - shy, awkward, unsure of himself. He was one of the best people she knew, an amazing frontman, a talented musician, a loyal friend. Yet with one little addition to the team he had turned into a quivering mess.

“You know I’m just going to ask Y/n what happened, right?”

“Yeah good luck with that, she didn’t even notice. At least I hope not.”

“Wait - so you hid your boner from her? I mean, at least you didn’t traumatise her again. What happened though, did you have some good times before the wake-up call?” She once again nudged him obnoxiously, loving how uncomfortable she was making him. “Did you have a wet dream? Did- Oh my god, you’re blushing, you did have a wet dream! Tell me everything! Was it hot? Did she go down on you or something? Did you see her tits?”

“Fuck off Victoria, I’m not telling you anything, now stop! It’s no like-”

“Hi! Attention, everyone! I know it's early and everyone is probably still asleep. But - announcements! That includes you Thomas,” Y/n said pulling the curtain of the guitarist’s bunk back so he could listen too.

Victoria noticed how their assistant didn’t seem spooked by Damiano’s presence at all - it seemed like he had been right after all. She hadn’t noticed a thing. If only those two would stop playing cat and mouse and finally do something, anything, she thought.

"Now, I know we're all excited about going to Amsterdam today, and I'm not looking at anyone in particular here," she explained as she shot a pointed look at Damiano that no one missed. "But I have one ground rule: no weed before the show. You got tomorrow off, so whatever you do after the performance tonight is none of my business. But god help you if I find you with a joint in hand any time before that."

She smiled, but Victoria had no doubts she would be deadly serious if it came to it. Y/n passed out a map of the local area, highlighting the Leidseplein in the middle of town, and in red circles were the venue, the hotel they were staying at, restaurants, and several coffeeshops, all within easy walking distance.

“Do with that what you like,” she concluded. ”As long as you do it after the show.”

***

The band had gotten to the venue straight after lunch, excitedly discussing some new covers they were thinking about playing that night. Soundcheck consisted of a number of conversations all at once, trying to figure out how to change the setlist. Damiano found himself participating less, instead, staring down at Y/n sitting in the audience. She was busy writing in her notebook, the seats next to her taken up by her bag, folders, and laptop. He knew she needed a break. They all worked extremely hard all the time, so it wasn't difficult to spot the signs of a fellow overworked person. He made it his own personal mission to get her to go out with them that night. Spend some time outside of work, see the city, anything that made her put her phone down.

As day turned to night, the concert loomed on the horizon. As soon as they hit the stage, it was clear it was going to be a good night. Amsterdam was the best kind of crazy. Going from Zitti e Buoni into Billie Eilish's Bury a Friend, the crowd went wild. Damiano noticed with amusement that Y/n was absentmindedly dancing along from her spot on the side of the stage as well. His attention had only been diverted towards her for a second, he was sure, but it was enough to suddenly feel something hit his head. Soft, red fabric.

"Was wondering when the first of those would come around," Damiano chuckled into the microphone in between songs, swinging the bra around a few times, before draping it across his mic stand.

Yet as much as the energy of the audience rubbed off on the band, all of them felt like collapsing after the show, feeling like they'd given it more than their all. A perfect chance to unwind for the night, in a way only Amsterdam really knew how. It was legal, after all.

***

“I am absolutely not getting high with you lot.”

Everyone was gathered in Y/n’s hotel room more or less uninvited. It seemed like they were dying to drag her along on what was supposed to be one of the best nights out on that tour. After getting ready, they had simply stormed in as soon as she had opened her hotel door. Now they were perched on her bed, her desk, and her armchair, trying to convince her.

“I gave you all a map to see where you could go. I, for one, would like to stay in my room, just me and my bed, and sleep till my alarm in the morning. That sounds like a brilliant time in my book.”

“Boring!” Thomas shouted, hurling a pillow from the bed at her that she quickly caught and threw back with much less force.

“If you come out with us, we’ll be ready before your wake-up call for the rest of the week!” Victoria tried to bribe.

“If you come out with us, we’ll have breakfast ready for you every day!” Y/n shot a look at Thomas, knowing fully well this was not going to happen. The idea alone made her laugh.

“If you come out with us, you can keep me company while the other three go crazy?” Ethan finally offered. She knew she was close to giving in, no matter how wrong it seemed to blur the lines between working relationship and friendship. She barely even agreed to drinks when she was on the job, and technically, she considered herself to be on the job 24/7. Yet these four had grown close to her heart so much more than anticipated.

Out of nowhere Damiano appeared next to her, slinging his arm around her shoulder. The way his fingertips brushed her neck as he did so left goosebumps. “Come on, darling, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

It turned out, that was all she had needed to hear.

***

The coffeeshop didn’t differ much from the usual pubs and bars; people stuffed in every corner, a low murmur of talk with the occasional loud laughter over the music playing in the background, tables full of glasses and bottles. Only the smoke lingering in the air, its distinct smell, and the relaxed atmosphere let on that it was a slightly different kind of place. Y/n made short work of weaseling through the crowd and securing a table at the far end of the place, just enough space to accommodate all of them, as the others went to order.

“Do you want one as well?” Damiano asked as soon as he had let himself fall onto the couch next to her, already preparing to roll a joint.

“I think I’m getting a second-hand high just sitting here. Maybe take a puff of one of yours, but I won't be able to finish one myself."

Damiano nodded, licking the inside of the blanks as he prepared his joint. Victoria came bouncing in like a tidal wave - her usual fashion - and crashing into the others already sitting down. As soon as Damiano was happy with his creation, she snatched it out of his hand, making short work of lighting it and taking a drag.

“Hey, that was mine!”

“Make another one,” she grinned, obnoxiously blowing the smoke into his face. Rolling his eyes, Damiano quickly prepared another one for himself, everyone now happy and content with their smokes, until only Y/n was left holding at a glass of water.

She preferred to observe the scene from her little advantage point in the corner like she so often did. The mellow music in the background was loud enough to underline the atmosphere but quiet enough to easily talk to everyone around you without having to shout. She liked this much better than loud bars in the evening. Most people were minding their own business, in small groups or pairs, some on their own. Victoria was quick to start chatting to a pair of girls sitting at the table next to them. She wasn’t going to lie - while not her usual spot, she didn’t exactly feel uncomfortable.

A hand appeared in front of her face, seemingly out of nowhere, and it took her a second to realise it was Damiano, trying to pass her his joint. She hesitated - still not convinced whether she should be smoking at all, but one look into his eyes only proved to her that she was weak to his suggestions. Parting her lips ever so slightly, she let him push the blunt between them, his fingertips grazing her. She took a drag, careful not to breathe in too much too quickly, before releasing the joint. Damiano pulled it back towards himself immediately, putting it back between his own lips, and she felt hypnotised. The moment came to an abrupt end when a cough took hold of her.

“Easy, easy,” Ethan soothed from the other side, his hand on her upper back. “Breathe.”

Everyone around the table seemed to be looking at her now, but she quickly got her composure back, holding up her hands in a gesture that was meant to signal she was fine.

“Fuck,” Y/n choked, taking a drink from her glass to wet her throat. “This is why I don’t smoke.”

“Wrong,” Thomas threw in. “This is because you don’t smoke!”

Y/n shook her head, giggling at the guitarist and the know-it-all look in his eyes.

“Up to try again?” Damiano whispered in her ear as the attention had finally ceased to be on her. She found herself staring into his eyes once again, a fluttery feeling erupting in her stomach at having him watch her so intently, at being able to capture his attention so easily.

The look on his face was enough to get her to try again. And again. And again.

She couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but for once, she genuinely didn’t care. The people around them had changed, old ones leaving, new ones arriving, but the music stayed the same. She wasn’t quite sure what the joke Thomas was telling them was about, but she found herself giggling along nonetheless. This was the best she had felt in forever.

Unaware of what she was doing, she leaned back, finding Damiano’s arms carefully wrapping around her, holding her softly. To her own surprise, she was sinking into him.

“Having fun?” He asked in a voice so low she barely heard it. A voice so soft it made her heart melt. She nodded, slightly twisting around in his embrace to look at him again. She couldn’t get enough of his face. She’d stay and study it for all of eternity if he let her.

"Have you ever seen brown zircon?” She suddenly asked out of nowhere. “It's a gemstone that looks like they made sparkly salted caramel bonbons from rock. They mine it in Tanzania, I think? Your eyes sparkle just like that." She grinned at the man beside her. "I can attest to that from this angle at least. It’s like the one scene in Aladdin! 'She's got these eyes, and this hair and…’ Ah oh god, what am I doing?" She couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous she was being. She found her face resting on his shoulder, completely content. His eyes never wavered from her face, listening closely to what she had to say.

Then Y/n watched her hand brush Damiano’s hair to the front, attempting to style it in a slightly different way. “Did you mean to look like Eren Yeager or was that some sort of subconscious coincidence? Not that it doesn’t look good, of course.”

“You watch Attack on Titan?” Dami looked down at her with surprise.

“No I don’t, but my friends do. So you learn the names of the people they yell at through the TV screen very quickly,” she laughed, remembering the way her friends would huddle in the living room, shouting at whatever the characters were doing wrong in their opinion.

“The more I get to know you, the more I’m convinced you’re my kinda woman, you know?” he mumbled, a smile grazing his lips. The more she looked at him, the more she felt her brain shutting off and her heart taking over. Or was it the high? She wasn’t interested in trying to differentiate.

Once again, he pushed the joint between her lips, holding the eye contact and it felt so much more intimate than it should have. It felt like her nerves were on fire. When he pulled his hand back again, she wanted to grab onto it, keep him in place, keep the moment.

I could stay in this forever, Y/n thought to herself.

"Also, I'm not religious by any means, but whatever God was responsible for creating you sure took their sweet time doing it…" The words spilled from her mouth before she realized she was talking, eyes flicking back and forth between his. "You know?"

She caught herself looking at his lips. A small blush grew on her face as she looked away. Staring out into the room, out at the people sitting next to them at other tables. Something distracting to take the rising heat off.

***

Damiano could feel his defenses wearing away. All ideas of staying away completely vanished into the smoke that lulled them in as he was holding her in his arms, her back leaning against his chest. He could feel her breathing, giggling at nothing at all, or maybe something Victoria had said but he hadn’t heard.

“If anyone’s been made by the angels, it’s you, amore,” he mumbled more to himself than anything, but she had heard him. Another chuckle running through her body. The atmosphere was fogging up his brain. He watched in amusement as he let a finger run up her arms, from her wrist to her upper arm where the fabric of her shirt began, and goosebumps appeared as if standing tall in a row. He tried it again on the other arm, getting the same result.

“What are you doing?”

She was turning around in his arms, just enough to look at him without removing herself from his embrace. He wondered if it was the dim light or if she was always this radiant. His hands travelled to the elastic that was holding her hair together and carefully removed it, eyes on her. Her hair fell around her face, framing it beautifully in its typically wild manner.

“I…” Her eyes seemed to twinkle as the light of the bar reflected back at him through them. “I don’t know.”

He looked away, suddenly insecure. What was he doing? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he couldn’t keep his hands off her, now less than ever. He wanted her. Wanted her all to himself. Wanted to keep holding her like this forever. There was no denying that.

“You’re sweet.”

Her voice took a second to get through to him, but as it did, he turned his head as if in slow motion. All he had wanted to do was look at her again, but that wasn’t what happened. Instead, her lips were on his.

***

All Y/n had done was lean forward to press a kiss against his cheek. Now their lips were meeting and she didn’t know how she had gotten there. She wanted to pull back - no, actually she didn’t. But she thought she should. Though the spirit was willin - to pull away, that was -, the flesh was weak. Delving deeper into his arms, she found herself kissing him like she meant it. Her hands found his chest, feeling the rising heat from his skin. Being closer to him than ever before was driving her crazy. His soft, warm lips against hers. Just the tiniest movements, as if he was afraid of breaking her. She let herself enjoy it. For a moment. That was all her brain allowed before switching back to the rational part. She pulled back in surprise.

She moved out of his embrace, stiffening at the contact. All of the twinkling lights of romance that had just appeared around them now popped as the kiss ended.

I just kissed my boss. I just fucking went and kissed Damiano! I am so, so fucked.

Yet, she couldn't deny that she wanted to kiss him again. And again, and again until they ran out of air to breathe. She looked back at him and the expression on his face said it all. His lids lowered, a small smile appearing on his face. Eyes twinkling in the soft light. He hadn’t wanted the kiss to end either. Either that or the weed was affecting him more than she had thought.

But as cold air started to seep in between them he blinked a couple of times, only now noticing that she had pulled away.

"Sorry - about that. I was trying to- I wasn't trying to kiss you. Well, I was - but not on the mouth. That would have been very forward of me. I would never. That's not me. I don't know how that happened - sorry." Y/n rambled on, unable to stop talking.

Damiano smirked, pecking her cheek. "Y/n, it's fine, you're fine. I turned my head and we kissed. It happens." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. As if this was some sort of common occurrence. As if she was panicking for nothing. Was she?

***

Damiano desperately tried to hide the turmoil inside of him. It happens?! Damiano, what the hell are you thinking! Not the right thing to say in this situation! Now it just looks like you’d kiss anyone, great. He looked down at his hands, fumbling with his rings. Trying to get his breathing back under control. He needed to be cool.

"I mean - not that I didn't enjoy it. You kiss good!"

You kiss good? What the? That wasn’t even English. He was well and truly losing his mind.

***

Y/n took a deep breath, sitting back in her seat, making sure not to be as close to Damiano as she had been before. Victoria and Thomas had migrated to get more drinks and Ethan was deeply entrenched in some conversation with a man next to him. Luckily the rest of the band hadn't seen what just happened. Grabbing her glass once more, the cold wet condensation gave a stark contrast to her warm skin.

The kiss still left a tingly feeling on her lips. Quickly looking at Damiano, she met his eyes. He had not looked away yet, it seemed. She watched as he bit his lip in contemplation. Whatever was playing on his mind, Y/n didn't know. His words left her believing he wasn’t quite as put together as he tried to pretend. He certainly wasn’t making much sense. Although, she wouldn’t dismiss his compliment of her kissing abilities. She wondered if he would think similarly if they did it again, or did more than that…

Her wandering thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a loud crash. The culprit was quickly spotted. The middle of the coffeeshop, which had been empty of people until then, now had Thomas lying on his front, surrounded by liquid and broken glass.

Y/n didn’t hesitate, jumping up to offer her aid. The worry only lasted for a second though, until Thomas turned on his back, giggling maniacally. She barely managed to kick some shards out of the way before he could roll onto them.

She let out a deep sigh at the state of the guitarist, before quickly apologizing to the people at the bar.

“Everyone help me grab Thomas, I think this is our sign to call it a night.”

***

Y/n thought she’d have an easy time going to sleep. The effects of the joint were lingering, plus, the day had just been plain exhausting. Yet, as her head hit the pillow, she felt restless. Her mind kept circling around Damiano. The way he had looked at her. The way he had looked in general. She had seen him basically naked at this point, but she still thought about how it would be different up close and personal. She wished she had been able to read his eyes more. Had he been thinking about the same things she had? Had he wanted to kiss her again and again, get lost in that bubbling excitement of finally being close, finally let his hands wander to new places? She wanted to pull his hair. See what kind of sound would leave his mouth when doing so.

She wanted his hands and his lips, all of him really, badly. She wanted to know what he felt like when he really kissed her. What his fingers would be able to do to her. Biting and moaning. She desperately needed some release, wishing it would come from him, but knowing there was no chance, at least not tonight. Her hand wandered between her legs as she let her mind run wild. Imagining it was him instead, letting his fingers run along the inside of her thighs, exploring every inch of her. How he would treat her just right, hit all the right spots, do so much better than her own fingers ever could. The words he’d whisper in her ear, seducing her with his mother tongue, breath fanning her skin. How he would kiss her senseless. Feeling the rhythm of their bodies take over. Watch his tattoos start to glisten with a sheen of sweat from what they would be doing.

She found her release almost embarrassingly quickly, burying her face in her pillow. Her body felt more at ease, although her heart was still craving something more. She had almost calmed down, getting her breathing back under control. In a moment of clarity, she checked her phone to see when she had to wake up the next day, when the sound of a moan caught her attention. One that definitely wasn’t her own, but seemed to come from the room next door.

Damiano’s room.

[capricornus-rex]

Hey Hon! I know you’re cramped with requests and the “Old Friend, New Family” story so feel free to do this one whenever you’re ready! No rush! ☺️💖 Cal not knowing the reader has arachnophobia so when they go to Kashyyyk and are attacked by a huge, albino Wyyyschokk, she freaks out? To the point where she’s completely out of her wits, panic mode on FULL, and just scared to death? I have arachnophobia so when I had to play Kashyyyk, it was the worst experience of my life ;////3////;

Honestly, those spiders always give me the creeps and make me shudder ;;A;; Also, so very sorry for not publishing so soon! :( But good thing I just brought home my newly-fixed laptop today!! <3 I hope I can make it up to you and everyone with the fics. I’ll try my best to really keep publishing. Don’t worry, I’m not planning on quitting. Why would I? ;3 I’m having a blast with everyone here!!!

“In the Face of Fear” | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: Kashyyyk has its own charms and surprises, but what if one of those said surprises rear its ugly, unpleasant head right in front of you in the form of a spider that’s the size of a boulder?

Tags: Arachnophobia, Wyyyschokk, Matriarch Wyyyschokk, Kashyyyk, Arachnophobic! Reader

Also in AO3

Next: Part 2 | Masterlist

1 of ?

You and Cal finish off the last wave of Stormtroopers.

The partisan informants were right about the Imps getting into the forest to find Tarfful’s home village—which also doubles as a hideout for the Wookiees and a handful of partisans now led by Mari Kosan after Saw had left them.

“Good thing they haven’t come close to the hideout itself,” Cal commented.

“No,” you scoffed a chuckle. “They have a lot to go through besides us.”

Beneath your snarky, roguish facade, you clench your fist as you fight off the chill travelling down your spine when you catch the cluster of hatched Wyyyschokk eggs glued to a tree trunk. Cal spotted your grimace, you’re not taking your eyes off of those empty, shattered shells.

 “You sure can’t stop looking at them,”

“I want to, but… Oh, I don’t know,” you shrugged.

“Come on, let’s get away from them. Those hatchlings could be close,”

“Heeeey!!” you whined, he laughed in response. You playfully tackled him from behind as he walked ahead of you.

It was a tedious trek to the hideout village—but that’s its advantage—both Jedi had to cross paths with a few more creatures before getting to any of the watchtowers or huts. You’re just secretly thankful that you haven’t run into any Wyyyschokks yet—most especially the albino, which happens to be the rarest of its kind.

You tread the forest with more caution than care, your eyes pan from tree-to-tree—searching for signs of eggs and webs—and Cal was quiet about noticing your anxiety. He knew you hated it when your phobia is being pointed out in some way, though he figured you’d like to talk about it just to vent it out.

For someone who isn’t familiar with the terrain of Kashyyyk, it can either be mesmerizing or downright frightening. It goes both ways for you. It becomes the latter when you and Cal stumbled upon a wrong turn due to the labyrinthine layout of the forest. Cal realizes his mistake and attempts to solve it.

“Hey, Cal, are you sure you saw a marker in a tree hollow?”

“I think so,” he replied, with the doubt evident in his voice. “Okay, I really think we took a wrong turn.”

BD-1 politely cut in and flashed the holomap, both Jedi navigated with their eyes, occasionally pointing at patches of land and tracking their would-be path.

“I think we cut across this upper level of the forest, there should be—”

You could’ve sworn you heard something shuffle behind your backs. Your abrupt turning unintentionally cut off Cal in the middle of his explaining.

“[Y/N], you okay?”

“Did you hear that?”

A pause. He listened in on the silence.

A simple rustle of the flora simply heightened your senses—mostly propelled by fear—and then the thing that neither of you noticed before has caught your attention.

“[Y/N], honestly, are you alright?”

You didn’t answer, you kept scanning the area and knew completely well that something isn’t sitting right with you.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you sighed, and stepped forward. “I’m just jumpy, that’s all—”

“[Y/N], BACK AWAY!!!”

Too late! By the time Cal had noticed that you were walking into a literal trap and tried to get you out of it, he was pushed back when the most enormous and most brightly-colored Wyyyschokk both of you have ever seen pounced on you. It had been patiently waiting for either of you to step on its web trap on the ground—and you went right into it. The creature entrapped you with its legs as thick as tree roots, you wriggle helplessly as you couldn’t take your eyes off of its multitude of bulbous, full black eyes, and its mandibles foaming with bile—hungry for flesh—twitch and flick above your bosom.

You let out what ought to be the loudest scream your chords could ever produce; once out of breath, you inhale and exhale rapidly. Your throat goes sore from the shouting that it stings whenever air would enter your windpipe.

The words are dislodged in your throat—you wanted to scream for help but cannot—your voice renders itself absent in your mouth, and only the silence brought upon by the sheer horror of this monster’s overall appearance, and in an uncomfortable closeness with you too.

Cal ran up to it, leapt, and drove his saber into its plump, jiggling hind abdomen. It screeched—a shrill, piercing wail that left a high-pitch noise in the ears—and turned to the offensive against Cal. That was your signal to get up, but the terror had paralyzed you; instead, the entire scuffle with that gigantic Wyyyschokk happened right before your eyes—just like with the eggshells, you cannot look away no matter how much you want to, the longer you look the more materialized your fear becomes. The redhead succeeded in a series of parries to disorient the creature.

“[Y/N], get to the high ground!”

His warning fell on deaf ears. You’re still stuck in staring at the spider, with your back against the wall.

“Bee-beeee, triiiillll!!!”

“I know, BD, I know!”

The little droid warned Cal that you were still frozen stuck in harm’s way, and he needed to think fast to get both of you out of this mess. He cleanly blocked the Wyyyschokk’s incoming wave of attacks, searing its fangs and hairy legs with his lightsaber upon parrying—and while the creature was distracted by its wounds, Cal fished out a flashbomb. He turned his heel to you before the area would be engulfed in bright light in a matter of a split second. He snatched you by the arm, pulled you up, and that woke you from that frozen trance of fear.

“We gotta move!”

The Wyyyschokk thrashed and erratically scampered left and right in search of its prey, you and Cal were making your escape through a pinch in the wall; the enemy tried to catch up but you had already squeezed through the end, its pointed legs jerked as it fitted through the crack, desperately trying to claw either of you just for a scrap of meat.

Life was still flashing before your eyes even after the Wyyyschokk gave up its pursuit. Your heart pounded louder than the Wookiees’ war drums, so much so that your breath cannot keep up with the pulse anymore, and your limbs have returned to its jelly-like state after you crawled your way out of the wall.

He noticed the rapid, sharp breaths that you take. There was also a wetness glossing over the surface of your eyes.

“Are you hurt?”

You couldn’t speak, still shell-shocked by the assault, and slowly shook your head as a response. The tears persist.

“Come on,”

A single touch—gentle and slight—was enough to make you jolt. You were ceaselessly apologetic. For what, exactly? Cal patiently waited for you to calm yourself and eventually helped you. When he thought you were ready, he held out his hand for you.

Slow and steady—Cal took the lead again, and he made sure you were okay along the way. Eventually, you did reach the hideout, but the trauma still hasn’t left your system and you have no idea how to get it out. A partisan was out there to greet you, but the first thing he acknowledges is the horror in your blank stare.

“Is [Y/N] alright?”

“Not really, we just stumbled upon the biggest Wyyyschokk we’ve ever seen,”

“Wait, does this Wyyyschokk happen to have brighter colors than the rest?”

Both Jedi exchanged glances, trying to recall the appearance of the monstrosity, and then the two of you looked at the rebel again; though, it was Cal who did most of the conversing.

“Come to think of it, yeah, it was a bit more vibrant than the others,”

“Oh, well,” the partisan scratched the back of his head, evidently reluctant to break it to you. “I think you guys just met the Matriarch Wyyyschokk.”

Your spine reduced to jelly again, goosebumps pelt your skin as a chill coated your shoulders, your eyes widened so much that they’d almost pop out of your sockets!

“I’m sorry,” you blinked several times, almost comically. “Run that by me again, soldier?”

“The Matriarch Wyyyschokk. Their mother. The mama spider.”

“I know what ‘matriarch’ means! But good gods, those things have a mother?!”

“Well, how do you expect to be so many of them wandering around without one?” the partisan shrugged.

“That’s just spectacular,” you say half-heartedly.

“Just steer clear of its den,”

“Thanks, we’ll remember that!” you whined.

Your hysterics still haven’t died down by the time both of you and Cal waltz through the network of bridges to start a little tour of the village.

[scaryscarecrows]

Roots and Leaves, Pt. 4

They talk for hours, after that. Honestly, Jason’s still not sure what she knows or doesn’t know about…about Batman and the Joker and everything, but he can’t bring it up, he just can’t.

He’s only a little alarmed when they finally stand up to leave and she hugs him, shaky-armed and kinda frail-feeling. But. It’s, um. He may not exactly like it, because it came out of nowhere and there’s that little voice in the back of his head whispering worked for Joker, worked for Joker!, but he appreciates the idea. And. Um. People don’t…they haven’t…he’s had, like, four non-thank-you-for-saving-my-ass hugs since he got back, and one of them was a tackle-hug from Dick that scared the shit out of him and earned Dick a broken nose that Jason’s not at all sorry about.

He must not respond like normal people, though, because she steps back abruptly and says, “Hem, hem…I’m sorry. I just…I’m sorry.”

Whoops.

“It’s okay. Just wasn’t expecting it.” He forces a smile and hopes it’s not overly serial-killer-y or anything. “It’s not your fault.”

She steps back-ahh, personal space, you don’t realize how valuable that is until it’s gone-and straightens her shoulders.

“I understand if you don’t…want anything to do with me.” Um- “But-and call me selfish, it’s a flaw of mine and I know it-I. I’d like the chance to get to know the man you’ve become.”

There’s an out. There is an out, right there, tap-dancing in front of his nose. A simple ‘no’ and that’ll be the end of it.

But she doesn’t seem to have expectations, some built-up memories of a dumbass kid that thought he could save the world, and…and everyone else does and…

Just once. Just once he’s not second fucking choice or damaged goods and he’s selfish too, sometimes, and he hates himself for it.

“I’d.” His voice is choked and he’s going to blame it on allergies if anybody asks. “No, I’d…I wouldn’t mind. I’d like that.”

She looks relieved and he made the right choice.

She gives him a card from her purse-Dr. Sheila Haywood, Gotham General-with a myriad of numbers on it.

“The third one down is my cell phone,” she says, and he nods like he doesn’t go through phone numbers like a kid goes through favorite things.

“I’m between phones right now-mine sort of…died.” That’s true, at least. It did die. It fell twenty stories and into a sewer and he wasn’t willing to go and get it. “But I have an e-mail until I get a replacement.” He’ll worry about all the other replacements later. It’s Gotham, he can come up with perfectly plausible stories.

“Well, that’s mine.” She taps said e-mail, written in metallic blue letters near the top of the card, with one red nail. “I don’t have any other ones.”

That doesn’t surprise him. That lack of social life usually doesn’t mean having a crap-ton of e-mail addresses.

This is good, he reasons. This makes it easier to make sure she’s not, like, up to anything. It has a tactical purpose.

“Okay.” Across the street, a child squeals as it smacks at a balloon. The sound is reminiscent of Harley Quinn’s ‘BAYYY-BEEEE!’ and it’s an effort not to cringe. It’s time to go home. “I gotta go home and get ready to go to work.” Does that sound apologetic enough? It must, because she nods.

“Same. It was…it was good to see you.”

She pats his cheek again and vanishes into the crowd heading for the subway before he can say anything.

Well. He did not get out of bed expecting his day to go this way.

* * *

Gotham’s quiet. Probably because it’s cold and windy, but the only people out tonight are a couple of corner girls, one brave, brave mugger (not so brave anymore) and a twelve-year-old boy who’s now warm and wouldn’t stop gushing about holy shit it’s so cool they’re never gonna believe me but who cares wow wow wow until Jason finally gave him his jacket to get him to just chill.

He can get a new jacket. He has other jackets. This kinda thing may or may not be a big part of that.

His sought-after pimp is snug and warm inside, and Jason lets himself in through the window, rifles through his record collection and judges all of it, and slouches comfortably in the guy’s bedroom doorway. He’ll wake up soon. He knows from personal experience that if you’re stared at long enough, you’ll wake up. Usually quite abruptly.

It takes the fucker five whole minutes to sit up and turn the lamp on. It takes him five whole seconds to go for the gun in his nightstand drawer.

The gun that Jason…borrowed. Without the intent to give it back. He holds it up to make this clear and says, “Lookin’ for somethin’?”

“Fuck-”

“Yeah.” He drops his hand and straightens up, strolls into the room and picks up the overflowing wallet on the dresser. “You know why I’m here, huh.”

“I didn’t do nothin’-”

He refuses to feel bad for grabbing the guy’s ankle and yanking him out of bed hard enough to smack his head on the nightstand corner.

“Anything,” he corrects. “You didn’t do anything. And that’s not true, and we both know it, don’t we?”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Samantha Rider, goes by Honey.” He moves his fingers along the man’s ankle, adjusts his grip. “April Green, goes by Missy.” Right there. “Need I go on?”

“What about ‘em? You interested? S’not like there’s a waiting list-”

CRACK!

There. Now he can’t run. Jason drops the ankle, ignores the howl of pain as it hits the floor, and drags him up by his shirt.

“This is your one warning, Pauli. You lay a finger on any of your girls again, and I come back. You don’t want me to come back, do you?”

“You sonofabitch-”

Rude.

Those corners are awful sharp. He’s seen plenty of people make do with less.

Nice that he doesn’t have to, though.

Said corners are just the right size to enter an eye socket, as Pauli finds out the hard way. Jason takes pity and pulls him back off rather than leave him there, but he’s not volunteering to clean the bloody white goop off. The police can do that, when they get here.

“You don’t want me to come back,” he confirms, drops the now-scarcely-conscious man onto the carpet. “So be good, or I won’t be so nice.”

No wisecracks this time. He pats Pauli on the head, careful not to accidentally jam his thumb into the weeping hole, and swipes the cash from the wallet. It needs to go to the people that earned it, after all.

[katelides]

Bechloe Week Day 3:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13011277/1/Bechloe-Week-2018

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15404181/chapters/35751621

Bechloe Week Day 3: Drunk Texting

It’s Friday evening which means that everyone is preparing to go out, in the Bellas house. Everyone, except for one person... Beca Mitchell. The brunette had just walked into the chaos that she had grown used to over the course of 4 years. She easily dodges a shoe flying towards her and absentmindedly waving up to Lilly who as usual is hanging upside down from the ceiling.

She quietly makes her way into the kitchen and opens up the fridge and takes out a pre-prepared plate made specially for her by Chloe. They still had a few weeks left until graduation and had returned a week ago from their retreat. Things were going extremely well between all of them and the girls all made sure to give Beca space after her shifts at Residual Heat, especially since she got a raise after the amazing demo she made with Emily.

Usually everyone would cook for themselves yet Chloe couldn’t bare seeing a tired Beca coming home, not having food ready for her. Maybe it had something to do with the feeling she has for her but who can really tell. Beca doesn’t notice Chloe walk up behind her as she was heating up the pasta that Chloe had made for her. So it’s no surprise that she slightly jumps up when the redhead taps her on the shoulder.

“Dude!” Beca screeches, which makes Chloe laugh. “Not funny Chlo, you scared the hell out of me.” The redhead holds her hands up. “Sorry Becs, I just wanted to know if you were going to join us for a night out?” Beca shakes her head. “I’m sorry Chlo but I need to work on the setlist of the Worlds so we can put the final touches on the choreo and music on Sunday. My boss wants me to work on another demo for a big client as well and I need to study for my finals.”

The brunette is slight out of breath by the time she finishes her tiny rant because she was speaking so fast. “Whoa Becs relax, it’s ok, I totes understand. Don’t worry, I was just asking because...” The redhead trails off slightly. “Because what Chlo?” Chloe bites her lower lip in a way that makes Beca’s insides churn. “Because I miss spending time with you?” Beca smiles gently at her best friend and opens up her arms, inviting Chloe in for a hug. “I miss spending time with you as well, I promise I’ll hang out with you tomorrow while you’re recovering from your hangover.”

Of course Chloe doesn’t pass up an opportunity to hug the brunette. She smiles into the crook of Beca’s neck. “I though you were hanging out with Jesse?” Chloe suddenly remembers. “Uhmm...” Beca thinks about the issue at hand but shrugs soon after. “I saw him yesterday, and I can always tell him I need to discuss the worlds with you.” No matter how much she would like to, Beca would never admit that she‘d rather spend time with Chloe than her own boyfriend.

Chloe raises her brow to question her best friend but doesn’t actually get a chance. “Really Chloe, I want to spend more time with you as well, and Jesse is moving to LA anyway next week so we’ll see how things go anyway. I mean we’ll have to get used to not seeing each other every day at some point, right?” The redhead is a little bit surprised at the unfazed tone Beca was speaking in. If it was her boyfriend leaving she would be devastated but still, Beca always wanted to go to LA so probably she would go up there after graduation and worlds.

“Do you need my help picking out an outfit or will you just show me when you’re ready?” Chloe thinks about it and shakes her head. “Why don’t you come up when you finish your dinner? I’ll have some outfits ready and you can help me pick the best one out.” Beca rolls her eyes playfully. “I’ll eat when you guys leave. Lets get you ready for tonight.”

Over an hour later all of the the Bellas minus Beca had gone out, leaving the brunette to work on her things. They had no idea how much Beca actually needs this time alone. Her entire life has been turned upside down in only one afternoon. She had wanted to to talk to Chloe about it but chickened out in the last minute. If Chloe had only know about the huge fight the brunette had had with her boyfriend... ex-boyfriend about her moving to New York instead of LA after graduation she would have never gone out with the rest of the girls.

-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-

Beca is sitting at her desk working on the setlist, completely oblivious to what time it is. To her it seems like only one hour had passed yet it had been at least 3 since the girls had left. So it’s no surprise the girl jumps up when she feels her phone vibrate in her pocket. She sees that she has a new text from Chloe. She can’t help the laugh escaping her when she reads her best friend’s text.

[From] CHLOE - 1.24 AM

Yoyre the sweetestest candythin in aall of theuniverse.... sprincles odf sugar on m tastrs

[From] BECA - 1.25 AM

Chloe, are you drunk?

It’s a stupid question but Beca can’t help it, she’s going to tease her friend for a very long time after this.

[From] CHLOE - 1.27 AM

Would you arrest me ref I wass?

[From] BECA - 1.28 AM

No m’am

[From] CHLOE - 1.29 AM

U arw so pollite

[From] BECA - 1.30 AM

Do you need me to pick you up?

[From] CHLOE - 1.33 AM

Te Grllsss say your a partypapr but I need u

[From] BECA - 1.34 AM

I’ll be there in 10 minutes, please be careful until I get there

[From] CHLOE - 1.36 AM

Yaaayyy my bay is cominn for me

Beca decides to ignore the last text and hurries out of the house with just her phone, an extra sweater for Chloe and the keys to Chloe’s car. The redhead is the only one that owns a car and Beca is the only one allowed to drive it. No one really knows why but Fat Amy is still very adamant on it being because Chloe and Beca have huge toners for each other. Yet neither Beca nor Chloe will ever admit to it, out loud.

While driving she receives some more texts from the redhead but none of them are supposed to be sent to her.

[From] CHLOE - 1.38 Beeee Bex is thz best! she is pikin me up

[From] CHLOE - 1.41

I looove her so mach bu she can nevr knooo.. she hot nd I want hr as myy girlfrend stupidd jessse stole myy gril! ned her and scrad to lose her

The brunette reads the texts and smiles to herself. Maybe there is hope for the two of them in the future, especially if the brunette would accept the idea of moving to New York with her.

When Beca arrives Chloe is already outside but not alone. She doesn’t like the looks of the guy trying to kiss Chloe. The redhead is trying to get the guy off of her by putting her arms out and pushing the guy away but the redhead isn’t nearly sober nor strong enough to actually achieve it. So Beca doesn’t hesitate to jump out of the car and pull the guy of off her friend. “Try that again and I’ll break your legs.” The guy drunkly stumbles away, not really understanding what just happened.

“Myyyy safiorrrr.” Chloe slurs as she falls with her full weight into Beca’s arms. “Hey Chlo...” BEca huffs out when she catches the extra weight. “... you good to go home?” The brunette asks as she manages to pull her friend towards the car. “Wiiii my char ya wow how yiou get heere?” Beca chuckles at her best friend’s behaviour and gently manages to sit her down in the car a strap her in. It’s only when Beca is 100% sure that Chloe is safe, that she walks to the other side of the car and gets in herself. She checks on Chloe one more time before starting to drive.

-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-

Chloe wakes up in the morning with a huge head ache and a mouth as dry as the desert. The redhead is confused because she doesn’t understand where she is. She smells something familiar next her and kind of jumps up when she feels something move semi beneath her. She opens her eyes slightly and barely makes out the form of an other person.

Then it suddenly hits her. She sits up in a panic which in turn wakes up the person next to her. “Hmmm? W-what’s wrong?” Chloe instantly recognises the voice and groans at the throbbing headache. “Here, drink some water and and take some painkillers.” Beca says softly while holding out a glass and some pills. Chloe takes them and drinks everything. “Thank you.” She says in a hoarse tone. “That’s alright... uhm how about you lay down a bit longer and I’ll make you breakfast?” Beca offers gently. She only gets up when Chloe nods her head and lays back down.

When Beca returns she finds Chloe sitting up with her legs pulled up and a puzzled look on her face. “How are you feeling?” The brunette whispers, knowing the agony of a hangover headache. Yet the redhead stays quiet for a while, as if she hadn’t even heard her best friend. “Becs, did I do something stupid last night?” The question catches the brunette of guard as she remembers the text messages. “Uhhhmmm I think you should check your phone.”

Chloe raises her brow but does as told. The redhead groans as she re-reads her text messages from the previous night. She lets out a strangled cry when she finds out she sent messages that were supposed to be for Aubrey to Beca. “If you’re wondering if I’m freaked out about the messages, I’m not.” Chloe looks up from her phone, straight into Beca’s eyes. “I’m actually flattered.”

Beca carefully sits down on the edge of the bed, not daring to break eye contact with the other girl. “I mean reading that your best friend thinks you’re hot is kind of nice. But I do want to know why she never told me that she had feelings for me?” The brunette didn’t care about taking things slow at this particular moment. She needs to know wether Chloe really meant what she wrote.

“I uhm... I never told you because you are with Jesse and you seemed happy and I didn’t want to be that friend that ruins relationships.” Chloe lets her head hang low. “Well, at least now I know you really meant your promise last night.” Beca says with a shrug. “What promise?” Chloe asks as she snaps her head up. “You promised to move to New York with me because you can’t imagine living apart from me... And I’ll be honest with you, I can’t imagine living apart from you either.”

“But what about Jesse?” Chloe asks carefully, scared of the answer. “We broke up two days ago, when I told him I’ll be moving to New York because of the promotion I got.” Chloe gasps at the new information. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Beca shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know, I guess I always knew that Jesse and I weren’t meant to be. There’s someone else who is my happy ending, and maybe in the future I’ll have the guts to actually ask her out.”

Chloe chuckles and rolls her eyes, regretting doing that almost instantly. “Maybe once you get settled in New York she’ll accept that date.” Chloe says with a grimace thanks to her pounding head. “I guess that’s a great idea but now I want to cure my best friend from her hangover with a nice breakfast.” Beca points at the pancakes on the bedside table. The two girls dive into the breakfast. Not knowing that in a few months they would be moving to New York with Fat Amy, barely having a chance to do anything about their rapidly growing frustrations as they have to share a bed.

[ptrpanarchy-blog]

Jesus...Trippin Ballz

So Jesus was relaxing at this Christmas party at his friend Trevor’s house and Trevor presented him a pill and Jesus was like “Umm..I’ve never done any drugs before” and freakin' Trevor was all “Don’t worry, I’m watching your back bro.”

     Jesus realized he had spent all evening standing by, being the mom of the party and not joining in any conversations or games or festivities. This holiday was of his whimsy to begin with and he decided to try something new this millenia.

     "This will loosen you up a bit" said Trevor. “And besides, you died right? FOR US? We basically owe you this experience dude.”

     Jesus (even for the first time ever) was super down. He slammed the pill back and then a beer and then another beer to wash that beer down. “Glug glug glug glug glug glug.”

     Half an hour passed and Jesus was feeling lucid and hadn’t noticed anything strange or different. He went outside to pee in the back alley of the house and it was a beautiful night to be peeing pee outside. Faintly, and just for a second, Jesus thought he heard his name. More seconds passed and he heard it again. “Jeeessus. Jeeessuuusssss.” Jesus heard the voice loud and clear now but it was coming from every direction!

     "Jeeeessusss! Do nooott beeee alaarrrrrrmed. My naaaame is Breeezus and I am the wind lorrrrrd and I am evarywhaaarrr.“

     "Breezus?” said Jesus. "You have control of the wind?“

     "Yess I doo,” said Breezus. 

     "I hearrrrrd some giiirrrlls talking about some douchebag peeing ouuut back but I only found yoooouuu. Theee wind tells mee many thiiings. I have tooo go blow on thiiings noooww but yoouu wiiiill find what yoouuu must seeek in the kiiiitchen".

     Jesus felt slightly off but perhaps it was the beer, he already downed 2 of them since meeting breezus. But it wasn’t. He was about to be trippin' balls.

     He entered the kitchen and decided to eat something just in case so the food could maybe soak up some of the alcohol and whatever else was in his system. He opened the refrigerator and there was only beer from top to bottom. Hiding in the butter slot, however, was a lil’ piece of cheese.

     "Better than nothing I guess," Jesus said. He grabbed the cheese and the cheese cried out. Jesus held the cheese in the palm of his hand and noticed this cheese had a teeny face and a cheesy lil' beard very similar to his. “I am Cheesus! Dont eat me, for if you do, you will surely-

     Jesus, now starting to trip balls, ignored Cheesus’s sharp warning and feasted on his cheese lord flesh, his cheesy innards and cheese organs and his decadent, cheesy blood, lapping up every drop and sucking the cheesy bones dry. Jesus was filled with intense remorse for a second but remembered it was just cheese, or so he hoped. Trying to get a hold of himself, Jesus went into the bathroom and wet his face. He opened the window for some fresh air and felt Breezus cool his skin.

     "Thank Breezus,” said Jesus.

     Suddenly, Jesus felt a pair sharp stings on his forehead and heard 2 tiny voices. It was Beesus, the Bee Lord and on his back, was Fleasus, the Flea Lord. By combining powers and toxins, they have strengthened each others resolve for overcom-

     Jesus smited Beesus and Fleasus because they stung him for no reason and that is a sin. Now feeling a bit irritated and having a swollen red bump on his forehead, Jesus started down the stairs and he started feeling woozy and blinked his eyes to try and focus and he noticed that he was suddenly in the kitchen holding a large steak knife, panting loudly like he had just ran a race or exhausted himself somehow. Then he noticed his hands and arms. They were covered in what looked like blood, little bits of meat and hair still lingering on his shirt. He looked around. It was quiet. Too quiet for a Christmas party.

     After searching around the house for about a minute he heard a thump upstairs. He started heading for the stairs but only made it 3 feet before he noticed his reflection in a mirror. He was wearing a skin suit made from countless party-goers. He ripped it off as fast as he could, uncovering a surprisingly well tailored skin vest he made too but this actually looked stylish so his dad would totes forgive him for keeping it since he did die for everyone.

     "What is going on!?“ yelled Jesus. He screamed and felt the room spinning, the walls were bleeding and the kitchen sink was ejecting blood and meat particles from the drain and Ann Coulter was there promoting her new book and criticizing Jesus for everything non-american and he screamed even more loudly and he clicked his heels together over and over and threw himself slowly to the ground as he cried until there was a flash from someone’s camera phone.

     He then found himself naked and covered in shrimp and cocktail sauce. The party was fine, the drugs led him on this intense trip and he was embarrassed. Everyone at the party was staring at him and just then a huge shipment of shrimp arrived. Following the teachings of Jesus, the party-goers stripped and covered themselves in shrimp and cocktail sauce too and they all chuckled while shaking their heads at Jesus and they danced the night away. He was so relieved to not have murdered everyone. He wouldn’t let it happen a second time.

The end?

[lilymu22]

I was scanning through some things and realized that I didn’t upload part two like I had promised...two years ago. Sorry! Well, here it is, for anyone who actually remembered it! Enjoy!

Thunderhoof remained quiet within the darkness…alone. He didn’t know where the autobot had disappeared to, and he didn’t know where he was taken. All that was filling his head were voices of his sire.

Words that told the decepticon how much he had disgraced the family name. Words that spoke about how shameful the elk con was.

Words from his own sire that described how much he wished to disown the pathetic bot.

A thousand voices all talking at once, repeating the same thing over and over and over. “S-stop.” Thunderhoof begged as he covered his audios, “P-please s-stop.” The shaking decepticon fell to his knees. The darkness quickly consumed the lower half of his body as the elk con continued his plea. Tears streamed from his optics as he hunched over.

“Pathetic.”

A figure stood before the scared con. Swirls of multiple dark colors hid away the figure’s image, but the outline was perfectly clear.

“T’ think, I had t’ deal with a pathetic piece of scrap like yous.”

“I-I’m s-sorry…”

“Sorry ain’t good enough, you little fragger!”

Thunderhoof winced at the harsh words.

“Yous was suppose t’ be tough! Yous was suppose t’ be strong! Yous was suppose t’ carry on our family name!”

The scared bot hunched over even further, wishing, praying that the torture would stop.

“Yet, here I am hearin’ yous make some stupid wish t’ make yaself tough?! Yous couldn’ do that on your own?!”

“I-I t-t-tried.” The scared con stuttered.

“YA DIDN’ TRY HARD ENOUGH!!”

Huge optics glared down at the shaking elk con from the background. Pillars suddenly rose from darkness. The shadowed sire sat upon his thrown, making the youngling feel small and helpless.

“YA COPPED OUT IS WHAT YA DID!! T’ LAZY T’ DO ACTUAL WORK LIKE A REAL MECH!!”

The crying little mech continued to apologize, but voice fell upon death audios.

“I DON’ EVER WANT T’ SEE YA FACE AGAIN, YA HEAR ME?!?! YA AIN’ MY KID!!!”

That sentence repeated nonstop. The young deer con wanted to scream, but no sound could be made among the angry cries of his sire.

“THUNDERHOOF!”

The sound of his name was accompanied by warm light. He look up, and to his surprise he saw Bumblebee reaching out to him.

“Thunderhoof! Grab my hand!”

“B-bumblebee?” the youngling could no longer hear the voices that screamed in his head. The autobot leader tried to get closer to the bot, but it was hard for body to move. “Please, Thunderhoof!” he pleaded, “Give me your hand!”

The little con desperately wanted to reach out. He wanted to leave this place, and feel safe again. Yet, he was still scared.

What if the autobot took him to a place far worse than this?

What if he truly deserve to be here?

“Thunderhoof, please!”

“I-I c-can’…I-I ain’ s-strong e-enough.” Thunderhoof stuttered weakly.

“Yes you are!”

The little deer con shook his head violently, “N-NO I-I’M N-NOT!” Too ashamed to look at the yellow bot in the optics, the little con lowered his gaze to the darkness that continued to consume him, “I-I…m-made a w-wish t’ make m-me s-strong. I-I w-was t’ w-weak t’ d-do i-it on m-my o-own…”

A frown appeared on the autobot’s lips. Bee felt bad that Thunderhoof felt this way. That, in the elk con’s optics, he was too weak to become strong on his own.

“Thunderhoof…you’re the one of the strongest mechs I have ever known.”

“I-I’m n-not-”

“Yes you are. You were the one who saved Grimlock when he was attacked by a witch. You protected your team.” the yellow bot smiled, “we may make the wish, but in the end, it comes down to us fulfilling it.”

The little deer con look up at the autobot leader with surprise. The only time he had heard that phrase was…from his sire.

“No matter what happens, I’ll always be proud of ya.”

That’s right, how could Thunderhoof forget? No matter how many times he screwed up, his sire was always there to encourage him.

He reached out to Bumblebee, ready to grab the bot’s hand. The mech was ready to leave this horrible place. He was ready to go back to his team and apologize for putting them through this mess. That is…until he saw it. The dark substance was spreading across his arm. If he touched the yellow autobot, there was a good chance that he would be infected by the stuff as well.

Bee notice the bot’s hesitation, “It’s okay, just give me your hand!”

There was a good chance that the corruption could damage the yellow autobot’s gem, but he was sure he could handle it. He just needed to purify Thunderhoof’s soul gem-

He froze.

Behind Thunderhoof were crimson optics glaring up at Bumblebee. The same glaring optics that has been haunting him in his dreams.

“HELP ME!!”

Bee snapped out of his dazed and turned his attention back to the elk con. The darkness is consuming him in a much faster rate. Thunderhoof desperately reached for the autobot’s hand, but the substance continued to pull him away. “NOOO!!” Bumblebee cried out as he struggled to reach the youngling’s hand. The very darkness begin to cover Bee’s arm. He could feel the burn as it melt his armor. He can’t go any further, and darkness is trying to melt him alive. The yellow autobot stared into the scared optics of the elk con.

“Thunderhoof, grab my hand!”

“I-I can’!” tears formed in the youngling’s optics, “I c-can’ reach y-yous-”

“Yes you can, Thunderhoof!” said Bee, “You can do it!” It was then that the autobot gave the elk con that same kind smile, the smile that he gave Thunderhoof back when he rescued the decepticon, “I believe in you!” The youngling’s optics widen. Suddenly, all of his fears fade away, and in its place…was determination. With a loud cry, the decepticon broke free. No longer a scared youngling that couldn’t save himself, he was back as the strong mafia bot that stared fear in the optics.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Outside, both teams fought frantically against the stone witch. They had finally started working together long enough for Bumblebee to get inside the witch’s head. Since then, they were tasked to keep the stone witch from escaping while also staying alive. “What’s taking that autobot so long?!” screamed the bounty hunter magical bot as he dodged another one of the witch’s attacks. “You think he’s a goner?!” questioned the crab decepticon. Strongarm slammed the attack back with her hammer, “No, he’s not! Our leader is still alive!”

“And how do you know?!”

“Cause Bee said he was going to come back!” answered Grimlock as he crushed one of the living busts with his tail. Steeljaws sliced a few more of the stone minions in pieces before dodging the witch’s stone arm, “Well, he better get here before we’re all dead!” The barrage kept going, until it came to a sudden halt. The magical bots pause as the watch, one-by-one, each witch minion fall to the ground and shatter. Soon the witch’s head begin to fall apart, until it was exposed. To bots jumped out of the exposed head and landed on the floor, panting from exhaustion. “BEEEE!!” the dinobot rushed up to yellow autobot and gave him a bone crushing hug. “Grimlock!…Easy!” Bee struggled to say. Steeljaws ran to Thunderhoof’s side and kneel beside him. “Thunderhoof,” he placed his clawed hand on the elk con’s shoulder, “are you alright?”

No response.

“Thunderhoof?” he shook his companion a bit. The decepticon didn’t respond. The room shook underneath them, and soon the pillars begin to crack. Bumblebee caught sight of the change and yelled, “The barrier is breaking! Everyone, run!” None of the magical bots waste anytime fleeing the room as the pillars fell apart. Grimlock placed Thunderhoof on his back and ran with the group. The walls broke down, and the plant life was wilting away before their very optics. “This way!” Bee ordered as he led the groups through the decaying maze. The floor was breaking apart faster than they could run, tripping Sideswipe in the process. The red autobot fell face first on the ground. As he looked up, he could see the maze falling into the abyss behind him. Strongarm quickly helped her distracted companion on his feet and pulled him along, “This is no time for gawking! Come on!” A section of the wall broke free as it fell. The crab decepticon caught sight of the debris falling his way. Before it could make contact, Grimlock destroyed it with his fist. “Move it, Clampdown!” called the wolf con, snapping the decepticon back into running.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

The teams made it out in the nick of time. They all watch as the barrier cave in on itself, returning the subway to its former form. The dinobot set the elk con on the ground. Steeljaws marched up to the autobot leader and pointed to the unconcious form, “What’s wrong with him?! Why isn’t he responding?!”

“Thunderhoof is in stasis.” Bumblebee explained, “His soul gem is recovering right now. Give him time, and should be awake in a few days or so.” Steeljaws optics narrowed. They both stared each other down, neither of them flinching until the wolf con finally walk away. “Alright, I believe you. I will be taking my pack and leave, if you don’t mind.” he then turned to look at the autobot on last time, “But, if Thunderhoof doesn’t show any signs of recovering. I WILL haunt you down.” Bee simply nodded as he watch the decepticons gather their unconcious comrade and leave. “But, sir!” Strongarm ran to the yellow autobot’s side, “We’re suppose to capture them!” He open his mouth to speak, but his knees gave in. Luckily, Grimlock caught Bumblebee before he could hit the ground. “Maybe, we should go…” the dinobot suggested.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

The decepticons had returned to their headquarters and placed the elk con in his berth. Steeljaws stared down at the decepticon’s soul gem, that was now completely grey. The hunter bot leaned against the frame of the wall and crossed his arms, “So, how long do we have to wait?” The wolf con did not move his gaze away from the gem.

“.…I don’t know.”

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Poco a poco forte

In collaboration with @bethanysnow (whose askbox is always open!)

Jealousy was never a good look with stardust in the other’s eyes. Boundaries are tested. Fantasies are made hot and heavy with some alcohol. Will they make it back to the hotel all in one piece?

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 5845

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitersmoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei  @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut​ @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @petit-poussin @fedorable-killjoys @luvbadass @buttercup-beeee @navs-bhat @etaerealboyv  @tryymebitch @mell-bell @fenhakwe @solacestyles @softforlukescurls @vicsangel @theimpossiblehologramtree​

***

Copenhagen was a whirlwind that barely left any time to breathe. Even the short break Y/n was granted in between was promptly used to make a dash for the nearest tourist shop. Adding a fridge magnet to her growing collection. No misses so far. She’d be lying if she wasn’t proud of it. Victoria gave a little tour through the city, giving ample opportunity to provide the fans with content via various social media platforms. A mad scramble back to the venue, soundcheck, dinner. A gig full of little mishaps, including Ethan losing a drumstick halfway through and Damiano almost tumbling off stage. At least the crew had gotten into a groove, ‘new tour’ jitters finally forgotten. That night, at the hotel, Y/n had found herself standing outside her door, empty ice bucket in hand. Somewhat wondering, hoping, someone would join her. Not just anyone. Him. But she wouldn’t knock on his door and he didn’t come to hers. It wasn’t to be. At least not that night. 

The morning had brought the band another wake-up call from Y/n. Everyone was starting to settle into their routine. Get ready, get on the bus, get handed coffee by Y/n. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying this little comfort of domestic bliss, taking care of the people she was starting to consider friends. It felt right.

***

Damiano’s morning wasn’t quite as peaceful. His thoughts were plagued by images of Y/n. His decision to ‘cool it’ and back off a little seemed to be biting him in the arse. When she had come around to wake him up, she had been in a partially sheer blouse, black jeans and boots and he thought she looked like the perfect little alternative housewife. Luring him out of bed with the promise of coffee and breakfast. Now he was sitting on the couch on the bus, watching Y/n fly around the little kitchenette and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her bum in those jeans.

Nope, he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Not now. The conversation with Victoria two nights ago was still ringing in his head. He had decided she was right - no use in pursuing anything unless he was certain what he was feeling and what he wanted out of it. He would still have enough time to make his move once he figured it out. Right? He didn’t know what Y/n was thinking. Or what she thought of him, so no use dwelling on it. Still the thought struck him, he barely knew anything about her. He should probably talk to her more. Infallible logic, he thought to himself. Backing off and talking to her at the same time. Great.

“Y/n… how do you usually take your coffee, by the way?”

“Lots of creamer, usually. Sometimes a bit of sugar, if I’m feeling fancy. Or if I’m feeling really fancy at a café, I might get a caramel macchiato.”

“Caramel is always nice.” Of course, she would like caramel, he thought to himself. “Do you normally drink coffee or are you more or stereotypical British tea drinker?”

“I enjoy a cuppa when I’m home, definitely. Italians aren’t exactly known for their tea now, are they?” A smirk appeared on her face, maybe a little baffled by the conversation, but happy to humour him. “Lady Gray is a particular favourite. Followed by breakfast tea with some sugar and milk. Before coffee. I can make you some tea sometime if you fancy?”

“That’d be great. You know, I just had an amazing idea actually,” Damiano grinned. “When we first went to Berlin, there was this amazing tea shop - would you want to go when we have the gig there?”

“That sounds lovely,” Y/n replied. “Of course.”

Another step closer to getting to know her.

***

“Right, we’ve all got an hour until soundcheck and some press things, I’m gonna go take Chili on her walk, you lot do whatever you want until then.”

Y/n had expected a few non-committal grunts, a wave, maybe a “see you later, I’ll go have a nap”, but instead, the whole band seemed to be on their highest energy levels. All of them immediately scrambled to their feet, looking for shoes and jackets, proclaiming they wanted to see the city, maybe take some pictures for Instagram along the way. Y/n wouldn’t dare complain about the company.

It didn’t take them long to reach the harbour, walking along the river as they enjoyed the bustle of town and the view. Y/n found herself pulling out her phone, telling everyone to gather around her.

“I’m no photographer, but I do need some memories of all of this. Thomas, stop pulling that face!” Thomas quickly dropped the grimace as she took the picture, the historic old town in the background. Chili was busy running around between the five of them, loving whoever gave her the attention the most. Y/n thought Victoria was reaching for the leash, already preparing to hand it over, but instead the bassist grabbed her hand. Obviously in a giddy mood, she began swinging their intertwined hands between them as they walked. Y/n couldn’t bite back a smile. She had missed having a close friend ever since she had moved to Italy leaving her best friend behind in the UK and she felt like this blossoming friendship with Victoria could truly begin to fill the void in her heart.

The blonde girl pulled her into a deep hug as Chili decided to go bother Ethan instead.

“I want a photo with just you,” Vic explained, pulling out her own phone for a snapshot. Y/n complied with a sigh but wrapped her arms around her, ready to take the picture. Right as the click went off, Victoria pressed a kiss to her cheek, taking her by surprise. Neither of them could hold back a giggle at her face in the photo.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, by the way,” Y/n spoke up as a little break in the conversation offered itself. If only to distract from the affection and it worked perfectly. All eyes and ears on her. “I’ve booked a little dinner for tonight. But not just any dinner. A burlesque one!”

The group let out various cheers. Thomas immediately ran ahead of the group, shamelessly faking a striptease as they kept walking. Damiano made sure to record the performance, already giggling to himself. Thomas was in the middle of shrugging off his jacket, walking backwards, when - ouch! - he bumped into a pole, heavily bonking his head. Everyone erupted into hysterical laughter, and after rubbing the back of his head with a pour for a moment, even the guitarist joined in.

“You alright?” Y/n asked breathlessly, trying to hide the giggles in her voice, genuinely concerned about him still.

“Besides the fact that I just got all of you to drop your panties for me? I’m great!” The blond grinned at his own joke, as everyone else rolled their eyes.

“Yes! Oh my god, take me Thomas!” Damiano gasped dramatically, pushing himself up against Thomas, who grabbed onto his leg to dip him.

“Wait! Hold on!” Y/n shouted, once again grabbing her phone as the captured the moment. “Now that’s one for the fridge.”

***

Backstage was business as usual. Y/n once again took the time to watch the band soundcheck, always feeling soft looking at the way they played without having to be ‘on’, without putting on a big performance. Yet, she was still in work mode, phone displaying the name of a reporter she was waiting on, along with the name of the magazine she was working for. It didn’t take long for her to appear.

The woman was undeniably beautiful. Thin figure, long, red hair, picture perfect makeup. Even her clothes were pressed, luxury brands decorating her, adding to the pristine image. A press pass hung around her neck, acrylic nails tapping something into her phone. Leaning back, Y/n noticed the particular red leather on the bottom of the woman’s heels.

It was only after putting her phone away that she acknowledged Y/n at all.

“Anywhere I can sit down with the band?” Her eyes barely even met Y/n’s.

“Uh, yeah, once they’re done with soundcheck, they will be in the greenroom,” Y/n said, mustering the woman. “You the reporter?”

“Sure, sure. Can I go there now, sit down, get ready?”

Y/n studied the press pass on the woman’s neck, making sure she was actually the person they were looking for and shrugged. “Alright, follow me.”

She led the reporter further backstage. The greenroom was fitted with a couch and a couple of chairs, a vanity in front of the mirror and makeup already carelessly thrown around. A costume rack in the back.

“Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” the woman muttered, looking around the room, obviously dissatisfied with it’s slightly chaotic state and - probably - lack of style. “That’s all I need you for, then.”

Y/n’s eye twitched, busying herself with the clothes, reorganising them to distract herself.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but rules are rules. Can’t be in a room alone, privacy reasons and all that. I’m sure you understand.” 

“Well then.” She carefully placed herself on one of the chairs, highly aware of her posture, her face, and the fact that she’d be right in view of everybody entering the room. “Maybe you can be a bit of help, then. You know, a little insider information between us girls… How into the whole, you know, rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle are they really? I’m talking, drugs, alcohol… groupies?”

It was no question as to what she was hinting at.

“Well, Damiano has a whole tattoo verifying that he hates parties. Plus, they’re not really known for that kind of stuff. And for the interview, I’d rather you stick to the approved questions that your magazine has discussed with our management. There’s no ‘insider information’ here -” Y/n was about to talk herself into a whole rant, when the door opened and the band moved into the room, joyous and hyped for the show that evening.

Victoria was the first to bounce over to Y/n, kissing her cheek, before collapsing on the couch next to her. Ethan, Thomas and Damiano followed suit. Chili had followed the band, now hopping onto the couch and making herself comfortable on Y/n’s lap. Ethan looked over at the reporter, brow raised. “You here to do the interview?”

“Oh you know it,” she winked. Y/n didn’t miss how her whole demeanour had changed and she couldn’t have been more annoyed. “Lovely to meet you all.”

She held out her hand to Ethan, the smirk never leaving her face, before greeting the others in a similar fashion. She held onto Damiano’s hand much longer than the others.

“Nice to meet you,” Damiano said, politely, sitting down as well.

“Oh, that’s no trouble at all,” she beamed at the singer. “Now, you’re here in Hamburg today, and in the part of town most notorious for having Europe’s largest red light district. Do you feel like that’s the perfect background for your gig tonight? You know, with the music you play and the way you dress - it’s not like you’ve been shy about sex in your career so far.” 

They all chuckled slightly.

“Well, sexuality isn’t something to be ashamed about, at least we don’t think so. It’s part of everyday life and part of our own experiences so we put that into music,” Victoria eloquently explained. “And what we’ve seen of the city so far has been very beautiful.”

“Well, maybe I should give you a little tour then, show you the naughty parts of town,” she laughed. “Back on topic though, I imagine touring can be hard, being away from everyone. Do you ever get lonely on tour? For friends or… something else?”

Damiano coughed. “Sure, we get lonely, like anyone else would. But we make a family out of the crew. Everyone on our team is very close to us.” Y/n could clearly see in his eyes that he knew full well what the woman was hinting at. “We love touring, so when you love something, it doesn’t feel like work.”

Ethan nodded in agreement. Y/n could see through all of them easily - none of them wanted to be there.

“Yes, of course, touring can be difficult, but we have fun, so not that bad,” Thomas added.

Y/n didn’t miss the way the reporter briefly looked over her shoulder to muster a reaction from her. “Well I’m sure you’re easily able to find some fun away from your… crew. Lots of parties on tour so far?”

At that point, Y/n was ready to rip the reporter to shreds. But she knew she had to stay professional, and the band was more than able to hold their own, so she stayed quiet. Ethan next to her sat up a little, obviously uncomfortable.

“No, we don’t party. No time.” His vision went dark as he looked at the woman in front of them. As kind and mindful as he usually was, he didn’t shy down when it came to showing his scarier side when he needed to.

“Yeah. We sometimes go to a bar on a day off, but that’s about it. Work is more important,” Victoria threw in as she put an arm around Ethan on the back of the couch.

Y/n felt a wave of pride at the way the band was holding up. It was absolutely no secret to her that they were desperately waiting for this interview to end, annoyed with the reporter and the lines she kept trying to cross, but they stayed polite and professional. She thought that this was what made them real rockstars in that moment.

“Okay, one more question, then. You entered this business really young, you still are, yet you write quite mature music, how do you manage that?”

“We write what we want to write. Perform how we want to perform. I don’t think that has an age limit,” Damiano spoke curtly. His eyes flickered over to their assistant. Y/n was sure he didn’t miss the way she was staring daggers into the back of the reporter’s skull. “And music has always been a passion of ours. We just got lucky really early in life, I guess.”

“Well thank you very much for your time,” the reporter said, standing up, and once again reaching out her hand to say her goodbyes. “Hope to see you around…” As she came to Damiano, Y/n didn’t miss how she stuffed a little note in his hand. “...hopefully.”

“Can I go kick her face now?” Y/n stood up, seething, as soon as the reporter had left the room. “Sorry, no, that’s actually rude. But I’m going to call management and report that woman.”

“Yeah, that… wasn’t cool,” Ethan contemplated. “How about you make that call and then we take your mind off it with the dinner show you booked for us, yeah?”

Y/n took a deep breath, looking at Ethan, whose eyes had turned back to show nothing but kindness. She couldn’t wait to forget about this disaster for the rest of the evening and enjoy herself. With the band in tow, she was sure she would.

***

Damiano hadn’t been quite sure what to expect from dinner that evening - but it wasn’t a table smack in the middle of the first row right in front of the stage. He should have seen it coming, really. When Y/n planned and schemed, she always made sure to get them the best of the best. Determined to make sure everyone was having fun. She truly took care of them like no other.

A waiter was at their table in no time, taking orders for drinks and food, and the openers started before Damiano even had a chance to take a sip of his wine. As soon as it became obvious that the first act of the evening would be pole dancing. The rest of the band started snickering, nudging Damiano’s side. Still, they all watched in amazement as the dancer started their performance, music filling the room.

“You know, I could do that,” Damiano whispered in Y/n’s ear as he leaned in close. She looked over at him - at the performer - back to him.

“Sure you can,” she giggled.

“Oh I can,” Damiano insisted, leaning in closer than necessary now. “And in heels.”

Y/n couldn’t stop herself from coughing, choking ever so slightly on her drink, as her eyes widened and a slight shade of pink appeared on her face.

Damiano simply couldn’t help himself. He knew he had meant to back off, give her a little space, give himself some time to think, but the words simply slipped out. “I can always offer you a private show, you know?”

This time, she only paused for a moment before whispering back, “You teach me pole dancing, I’ll teach you rumba, yeah?”

Fuck, he hadn’t expected her to get the upper hand so quickly. Still, he never once lost his smirk, murmuring a “sure” back at her. She had gotten back her cool, focusing back on her meal now, only looking up to watch the performance every now and then in between bites. She was making it way too hard for him to back off. He wondered if she knew what she was doing to him.

Leaning back into his chair, Damiano watched the performer on stage. They were beautiful, no question about that. Amazing at what they did. It was impossible to keep your eyes off them, even Y/n kept getting distracted. He wondered if she’d look at him the same way if it was him up there. Or if he did a little show himself that night, on stage at their own gig. Catching her attention like the dancer was doing now. Maybe making her lose her mind a little bit. It was worth a try…

The performance was over much too quickly for his liking and only shortly after, the main dancer of the evening was announced to go on stage soon. It didn’t take long for the lights dimming, before fading to black completely. A hush falling over the crowd. A spotlight found a petite, blonde bombshell in the middle of the stage. Perfectly sculpted hair, blue boa feather skirt, a glitter corset that dripped with silver and gold accents. She seemed to be glistening under the stage light, body glitter accenting all the right curves and features. Then she turned around.

Damiano’s jaw dropped - along with just about everyone else’s. She was così bella, un angelo. She walked to the front of the stage as the crowd cheered and whistled. Damiano was enraptured by her. She was mystifyingly beautiful. Each move was carefully planned out, knowing exactly what she was doing and how to do it. She was feeding off the crowd, spurred on by the shouts and comments, as she moved across the stage.

Damiano’s eyes followed her closely. He felt hypnotised by her performance. He had never given burlesque much thought, but this show was changing his mind rapidly. The only thing to pull him out of his was a sigh - a disgruntled noise maybe - coming from his left. It was hard to make out Y/n’s face in the dark, he realised as he turned towards her. But if he’d learned anything about her body language in the past days, he was certain that she wasn’t happy. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she was leaned back in her chair in a way that tried to suggest she wasn’t bothered. But she was. He just couldn’t figure out why.

He was distracted when the dancer was back in front of their table, looking down at them from the stage. She sent all of them a wink, before pulling the elbow-length gloves off one by one and throwing them to the side with a smile. She mesmerised him, even as she moved away from them to give another table some attention. Yet, Y/n was playing at the back of his mind.

Why did she seem so mad? She was the one who had booked this dinner, why wasn’t she having fun? Was she still preoccupied with the reporter from before? Sure, that one had definitely stepped over lines, but he thought they’d all gotten out of there pretty unscathed. And the reporter's number had wandered into the bin immediately. He considered the matter closed.

The woman on stage slowly lowered herself into a split, causing pretty much the whole audience to lose their minds. This was too good. More cheers and applause from everywhere. Damiano heard Vic shouting vague words of encouragement as the woman lost her bra, only pasties covering her nipples now. Y/n let out a little groan and from the corner of his eye, he could see her rolling hers. This time, Damiano wasn’t the only one who noticed. He watched as Victoria and Ethan exchanged looks, then nods, and finally shrugs.

Finally the performance ended, the dancer leaving the stage with another wink and kiss blown towards them. Damiano wished it could’ve gone on for longer. These people knew how to turn sex into art, and he’d by lying if he said it didn’t inspire him.

“Okay, gather up, no time to waste,” Y/n order, getting up from her seat the second the lights were turned back on. “You have a show to play and I don’t want you to be late.”

Damiano threw another look around. Even Thomas, who had been too preoccupied drooling over the dancer to notice anything else, was now staring at Y/n questioningly.

“What’s going on with her?” The guitarist asked as they all gathered their stuff and followed their assistant outside.

“Fuck if I know,” Damiano mumbled. “But I wanna find out, sooner or later.”

***

It wasn’t like her to be jealous. She didn’t care much about what other people found enthralling. But Damiano had looked at the dancer as if she was god’s gift to humanity. Yes, she was pretty, yes, she knew how to shake her arse. Was it all that special? The dancer was petite, a perfect fit for Damiano’s arms. A perfect figure to match his. Y/n was confident, she knew she was beautiful, but unfortunately the rest of the world didn’t always think the same. Unlike the dancer on stage. That woman was more than beautiful… She was palatable, sexy, perfect in all the ways a woman should be. Qualities that Y/n was currently convinced she didn’t possess any of.

Okay, maybe she was jealous. But she didn’t have any right to be. The dancer was simply doing her job. And so what, if Damiano had fancied her? It wasn’t like they were together. She worked for him, that was all. She didn’t have any right to want anything from him beyond that.

The fresh air hit her face as she left the venue, forcing some clarity onto her. She’d have to get a grip and get back to focusing on her job. It’s what she was there for, after all.

***

Victoria bounced over the Y/n as she left the venue, full of adrenaline and happiness from the show she had just watched.

“That was amazing, Y/n! Where did you get the idea for this being today’s dinner?” She asked, hooking onto the assistant’s arm.

“Looked up places we could go online, found this one in a travel blog. Said it had amazing wine so I thought we could check it out,” she explained without looking up from her hands, which were toying with the receipt.

“Well, you sure do have impeccable taste,” Victoria grinned and kissed her cheek. It seemed to pull Y/n out of her head enough to look up at the bassist. But Vic’s smile vanished quickly when she saw the look in her eyes. It was cloudy, gloomy, enough to make Victoria freeze up. Thomas was excitedly chattering about the show in the performance in the background, how hot he thought the performers were, especially the last dancer. Damiano eagerly agreed. Y/n’s seemed to have a flash of venom on her face, and suddenly it clicked in Vic’s mind. Oh, she knew that look well, had carried it herself a couple of times in her life.. She was jealous. Y/n was jealous of the way they all - or maybe, someone in particular - had reacted to the woman on stage. And she was doing a bad job hiding it.

As soon as the car pulled up, everyone scrambled to get it. Y/n immediately started bouncing her leg, still a stormy look in her eyes. If it didn’t seem so serious, Victoria would be amused at the state their assistant was in. Yet, with the expression on her face right then and there, the bassist didn’t dare make a joke.

Damiano was sitting next to Y/n, and Victoria desperately tried to catch his eye. It took a slight kick against his shin to get him to look at her. She flickered eyes back and forth between Damiano and Y/n, motioning him towards the woman. Hoping he would understand. Luckily, they’d long gotten used to reading the other’s face, no need for a verbal conversation. Damiano looked down at Y/n’s hands, still picking at the receipt, and he quickly grabbed one of them. Interlacing their fingers and offering her a smile when she looked up. Her leg stopped bouncing immediately.

“You alright?” He whispered.

“Yeah. Am now.”

Victoria couldn’t bite back the smile on her face, quickly turning towards her phone to be less oblivious. Those two would do just fine, sooner or later, she was sure of it.

***

The concert venue was smaller than some of the others they’d been playing on this tour, but if anything, it had caused the crowd to be even more rowdy. Y/n once again sat to the side of the stage, engrossed in her phone. Damiano snuck a peek through the curtain, before retreating and watching Y/n instead. She didn’t seem half as gloomy as she did at the dinner show. But a certain forlorn quality was still obvious. She had never been this type of obviously sad or upset before. At least not to his attention. Well, he was determined to get her to laugh tonight. Whatever had ruined her mood, he was going to fix it.

The band was getting hyped up, gathering around, some last minute fixes to their instruments among excited chatter. Yet, apparently, it hadn’t been only him who noticed Y/n’s mood. Once again sharing a look with Ethan, Victoria motioned her head over to their assistant. He nodded, before walking over to Y/n, taking her by the hand to get her to stand up, and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Victoria quickly followed suit, then Thomas, who had caught on. Damiano quickly gave a wink before kissing her forehead instead.

“For luck!” He shouted, as he ran on stage, welcoming the crowd. A quick look back confirmed a bashful smile on her face.

Everyone was on fire that night, even Y/n seemed to let go of her bad mood more and more. Damiano didn’t miss the way she sang along to their cover of ‘Take Me Out’, obviously getting into the show more than previous nights. Knowing all the lyrics, dancing ever so slightly… Damiano realised he really had it bad for her.

He decided to go for it during “For your love”. With a pointed look towards her, he slowly started rolling off one arm of his jacket. Then the other. A little mock burlesque show of his own, dramatically shimmying his shoulders as he got rid of the jacket completely. The crowd more than appreciated his little performance, judging by their screams. The rest of the band was eating his energy up, playing harder, going crazier. As Damiano jogged over to grab some water, he didn’t miss the opportunity to turn his back towards Y/n, shaking his arse in a bad attempt at twerking. Turning back, he could see that she was desperately trying to bite back a smile. But he wasn’t done yet.

Making sure she was still looking at him, he began playing with his microphone. Giving it a teasing lick and sending her a wink at the same time. Watching her as he let his hand rest on his chest, slowly wandering lower with a teasing touch, until it rested in his lap. He only managed to keep it up for a second, before he couldn’t hold back the laugh at her expression anymore and turned back towards the audience.

But apparently, Y/n had some trick of her own. Well, it seemed like she wasn’t even aware of them, but they worked on Damiano all the same. She was taking her hair out of the pony tail for the night and he thought the way it cascaded around her face was beautiful. He felt like a movie cliche, watching as the main character let her hair down and everything suddenly happened in slow motion. Yet, here she was, trying to shove a bobby pin back into place, and he was losing his shit. He thought it was ridiculous though. The crazier her hair went, the crazier he went about her. She swayed to the music and for a second Damiano could swear time stood still. 

I wonder if she likes her hair pulled… The thought distracted him to the point that he forgot what he was singing, quickly covering it up by animating the audience to sing it instead. He was glad to be nearing the end of the set. He’d never wish to go off stage, per se, but Y/n was once again occupying his thoughts and the way she was moving to the music now didn’t help.

Another song, another bow towards the audience, another well-practised “Danke!”, and they were off stage. Damiano briefly considered going over to Y/n, only to see Thomas basically chasing her away, threatening her with a sweaty hug. Her slightly panicked squeals proved she wasn’t a fan of the idea. He didn’t mind. He’d make sure there’d be more time to catch up with her later.

Briefly dropping into the dressing room, Damiano grabbed his cigarettes and a hoodie, before heading outside for a smoke. The backstage door led to a quieter alley than the famously busy Reeperbahn on the other end. But there were still more than a handful of people walking past, singing, dancing, shouting into the night, beer bottles in hand. It didn’t take long for everyone else to join him. Ethan headed outside first, bumming a cigarette off the singer, before Thomas and Victoria followed. They were once again involved in some sort of mock argument. Y/n stepped outside a minute later, phone in her hand, already back to work-mode and probably checking the plan for the next few days. Everyone was still on a high from the gig, chatting and giggling, but Damiano felt himself taking a step back. He loved watching his friends, loved what they did, loved that he got to do it with them. And now Y/n too, in a way. Not even a full week in and he knew that this tour wouldn’t have been the same without her. 

He was rapidly pulled out of his thoughts as a group of men came towards them, obviously way past drunk. Yelling and hollering for no reason but to be annoying and get everyone’s attention. Damiano hated those kinds of drunks. In his experience they were nothing but trouble. He had half a mind to retreat back inside before they reached the group, but even in their inebriated stupor; they were quicker than expected. 

“Now, who are these beautiful girls?” One of them slurred, stepping forward.

“Yeah! Bet you give a man a good time,” another one laughed loudly. “And a cheap one too.”

One of them was moving closer now, almost touching Victoria - but without even a moment to process what was happening, Y/n acted. Damiano watched, fascinated, as she grabbed the man’s extended hand, twisting it around his back and shoulder checking him into the brick wall of the alley. No second thought, no hesitation. Shouldn’t the men have been the one to react and take care of their girls? Well, it didn’t seem like Y/n was one to wait to be saved.

In a tone that he had never heard before - and neither had the rest of the band judging by their reactions - Y/n spoke, “You couldn’t afford me, mate. Or my friends. So I’d take your piss drunk self elsewhere, m’kay?”

The men were gone faster than lightning, stumbling to find their footing as they ran, only starting to comment on how she was a “fat fucking bitch” and how they “wouldn’t have wanted her anyway” when they were far enough away. Y/n wordlessly rejoined the group.

Damiano found himself releasing a breath. The whole scene had been over so quickly, he barely registered it. He wasn’t the only one either, he realised. As the other three kept staring at her, amazed and maybe slightly intimidated, while Y/n didn’t even react.

However, Damiano wasn’t just mesmerised by her behaviour. He was thrilled by her - in more ways than one. The way she had handled herself was downright hot. She was fierce, self-confident, and strong. He couldn’t keep himself from contemplating whether this was a side she would let out in the bedroom as well. Was she the type to take control? Order him around? Push him to a wall like she’d done that guy, only with very different intentions? He would be 100% okay with taking orders from her, he decided.

Y/n finally looked up from her phone, apparently feeling everyone’s stares on her.

“...What. I told you I worked security before.” She looked at Victoria, quietly asking her if she was alright. She simply nodded. Damiano still couldn’t keep his eyes off of their assistant. Damn, that woman had more to herself than she let on.

***

Damiano was still thinking about it an hour later. After everyone had gathered their stuff and gotten back to the hotel and split up into their rooms. After he’d gotten in the shower. His mind was still running wild. He quickly turned the water to cold, letting out a hiss at the change in temperature, but he knew he didn’t have the time or the privacy to do anything about his thoughts. Neither would he be knocking on Y/n’s door, desperate for some kind of attention.

Not tonight.