#i get home from a long ass day and theres blood all over the floor and my dad says hes taking my mom to the er.

[boycritter]

oh i just cannot catch a break can i

[retroellie]

Farm. Ellie. Making. You. Squirt. 👀 👀👀AAaRAghg now I NEED a whole fic for that!!!! For the sake of my sanity pretty pretty pleaseeeee 😩🙏🏼

Summary: Ellie finding scandalous polaroid's of you before finding out what she can do to you :)

A/N: Thanks for the ask<3 it was a bit rushed but i tried, theres so many asks to do so plz bear with me lol. Also i did research for this one cause idk much about this subject so be proud of me ASHAH

Warnings: NSFW, Squirting, fingering, cunniligus

Word count: 3.2K

She didn’t know what happened, one minute she was listening to Joel strum his guitar, wondering when the hoard will pass so she can finally be with you again. Then the next minute she was looking down a scandalous picture of you, gripping the paper so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

She was digging through her backpack when a piece of paper fell out of it. The paper was folded neatly, the words “For ellie<3″ standing out. Her eyebrows knitted in confusion, not quite sure who had put it in there but there was only one way to find out. She picked it up, it was heavier than it looked.

She opened it up and something fell out of the folded paper onto the ground. She looked down towards the floor to see 5 polaroids scattered, she was even more confused. She picked one up and examined it.

It was a picture of you and her, you two were on her bed. You had a huge smile on your face as ellies lips were on your cheek. Her arms were draped across your stomach lazyly, Ellie smiled. She remembered that day so well, you both were sick with colds and you both stayed in bed all day with each other watching old 80s movies.

The next one she didn’t recognize. You were in her bed once again, you were laying on your back with the camera pointed at your chest. You had a small tank top on which didn’t leave too much to ellies imagination. Your neck and chest were covered in hickeys, the dark shade complementing your lips.

The next was even more scandalous. You were in the mirror with only a set of back lacy underwear Ellie had gotten you on one of her trips. Your hand was over your boobs, covering them up so she couldn’t see them. She could see marks on your waist, finger prints from her. It was evident she had once been in the room with you, judging by your puffy lips and sweat drenched body.

The last one made her heart drop and the blood from her face drain. You were on her bed once again, you were topless. Your hair was draped over your boobs and your legs were spread slightly allowing her to see a small sliver of all of you. One hand was on your hip and the other was placed on your chest, right above your boob.

She looked down at the paper and saw sloppy writing on it, she didn’t hesitate in ripping it open and reading it.

Dear ellie,

I thought you were gonna miss me so i decided to have a photo shoot just for you<3 I hope you like them, I'm no model but I thought having these would make you miss me less. (or to show what your missing, don’t want you running off with another girl)

I miss you like crazy and you haven’t even left now, but by the time you're reading this I know I'll be missing you :(. Please be safe and don’t die, I don't want some asshole getting these pictures off your dead body. Oh and I'll miss you when you're dead of course:)

Anyway, please be safe baby and come back to me. I can’t wait to be ruined when you get back, Muah muah

Love,

Y/n XOXO

Her jaw tensed up, her hand grabbing the paper tightly. She tried everything to stop the thoughts of ruining you from running through her head, she couldn’t do anything about it either. She only had these pictures of you, she couldn’t touch you or be touched. The frustration was really getting to her.

She was pulled back to reality by Joel strumming the strings of his guitar.She shoved the pictures into her backpack hoping Joel didn’t see them. She let out a loud sigh, trying to calm herself down. She couldn’t wait to get home, she knew exactly what she was going to do. She knew this was gonna be a long trip.

-

-

The next couple days were hell for ellie. She couldn’t get her mind off the pictures and she couldn’t get off either. She didn’t get much alone time thanks to Tommy and Joel so all the frustration was building up. She couldn’t sleep sometimes, she was so touch starved it interrupted her dreams

When they finally arrived at Jackson she didn’t hesitate in running to her house, knowing you’d be there. With a couple welcome backs and half assed replies from Ellie, she finally arrived at her garage. She slowly opened the door, being greeted with warmth and the smell of your perfume.

Her room hadn’t changed much, there was still clutter of books and you were on her bed with little clothes on. When you heard the door open your head perked up, your eyes leaving the book you were reading. You gave her a big smile before throwing your legs over the bedside, running over to her.

You wrapped your arms around her neck, bringing her into a deep kiss. You guys had been away from each other for a bit. You hated when Ellie went out on trips like these, trips that took days to come back from. You never knew when she’d be back or if she’d be back.

Her hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you unbelievably close to her. You both basked in the warmth, your hands running through her auburn locks. She felt the most relaxed she had in days, feeling so close to you made her feel safe.

"I missed you..." You said while pulling away from her.

Her eyes had gotten a bit darker, almost now dulled completely. You thought it was because of the long trip she just had but Ellie had other things on her mind. The tourture your little photoshoot put her through, the hunger she felt it was enough to make anyone snap. she thought it couldn't get worse but when she walked in on you with just a shirt on and some cute panties, that was the cherry on top.

"Don't act all cute...." Her voice was thick with dominance, maybe the most you've ever heard. " 'i can't wait to get ruined when you get back'' ' She recited from your letter

She had read the letter so many times she could speak it all without the paper. The words haunted her and she was going to make sure you were ruined by the end of it. You looked speechless, like you hadn't any idea what she was talking about.

The innocent look in your eye made her hands shake and her mind wonder to all that she could do to you while that innocent look was still there, how far could she push you until you broke? She grabbed a fist full of your hair, forcing you to look into her dull eyes.

She pulled you into a deep kiss, hand still gripping your hair to keep you in place and the other one wrapping around your waist. You let out a small whimper, surprised by how fast it happened. Your muscles then relax, your head dizzy.

You hadn’t been touched, neither of you did so you both were touch starved. You brought your hands up to grab at her. Her hair, her neck, her chest you grabbed at everything. Her hand wandered down to your ass that was only covered by lacy underwear, giving it a squeeze. You moaned into the kiss, allowing her to move her tongue into your mouth.

The sudden affection made your legs shake and your eyes roll back into your head. She noticed this, watching as you became a moaning mess just by kissing. She took this as a sign to get you on the bed so she took a step forward, hinting at you to walk to the bed.

You started to walk backwards, your lips still on hers. You reached the bed, falling back on it. You pulled Ellie closer and closer to you, legs around her waist wanting more of her. She pulled a way for a split second just to pull her backpack and shirt off, not wanting to waste precious time she could spend in between your sweet little thighs.

You eagerly watched her, face heating up causing a soft red glow on your face. Her shirt trailed up her body, revealing more and more of her. She was only in a sports bra and a pair of jeans when she finally got her shirt off. You bit your lip at the sight, seeing how her nipples could be seen from underneath her sports bra.

When you drew your attention back to her, you saw her giving you a stern look. You could tell she was waiting for you to also take your shirt off, you gave a small giggle at how distracted you were before pulling your shirt off as well. The cold air hit your bare chest, making you shiver underneath her grasp

Ellie’s breath hitched, watching as your chest rose up and down. You looked like an angel to her, your hair sprawled out on the bed, only in a pair of lacy underwear, soft thighs around her waist. How can someone so angelic do something so dirty?

Ellie ran one of her cold hands up your stomach, enjoying the softness of your skin. You reacted to her touch with a small whimper, Goosebumps rising on your skin. She admired every scar and bump on your skin, loving how it looked on your skin. She reached your boobs, placing her hand on top of one. She bent down to place small kisses on your chest.

“I missed these.” She said between kisses.

You giggled, watching her every move. You moved a hand up to her hair, running your hand through it as she kissing and sucked on your skin. You let moans and groans fall off from your lips. She backed them, they encouraged her to do more. She regularly wanted to taste you so her kisses made their way down your neck, down your breast, down your stomach and finally to your lacy pair of underwear.

She placed small kisses on the inside of your thighs, watching you squirm. You watched her every move with wide eyes, she looked up at you nipping at your thighs. She kissed up your thigh until she reached your underwear.

She hooked her fingers on the sides of your underwear and slowly pulled them down, coming face to face with all of you. She slid your underwear off and threw them somewhere in the room. She looked up at you and then back at your thighs.

“Your soaked baby,” she said, breaking the silence.

You just bit your lip, a bit embarrassed about how your cunt was dripping onto your bed sheets. You couldn't help it, Ellie made you feel things no one else has. She noticed your embarrassment.

"Let me guess." She said, sliding a finger up and down your cunt. "You touched yourself to the thought of me, every. single. night while i was gone.

She swiped up and down your cunt a few more times before shoving two fingers inside you. You threw your head back, only ellies long slim fingers could reach that one place inside you that made your toes curl and she hit it every. single. time.

"What'd you think about huh?" She said, planting another sweet little kiss on your thigh.

you didn't respond, more like you couldn't respond. She curled her fingers, just grazing you g-spot. She chuckled up at you, leading her kissing up and up. She was promised to ruin you and she was going too.

"Was it me fucking you with the strap, you hands tied to the bed post while i thrust in and out.." Her fingers forcefully shoving in and out of you harshly to accentuate her words. "of your sweet little cunt."

You let out a high pitched moan in response to those harsh thrusts, making you see stars. She grinned, gripping onto your thigh roughly before licking up your cunt as if she was licking an ice cream cone on a hot summer day.

She scissored her fingers inside of you, not going too fast but deep and rough. the sinful sound of her fingers working in and out of your cunt filled the room along with your sweet moans. She licked you one last time, lapping up your juices before savoring the way you tasted.

"or was it just like this?" She asked once again, fully aware of you too lost in the pleasure to answer her. "My head in between your thighs, fucking you with my tongue and fingers while you sit back looking all cute."

She was right to say the least, you did run your hand down your body at night while thinking about her. You thought about it all, every position, every toy you had, every single dirty thing you thought about while fucking yourself until you were too tired to stay awake.

Your hands gripped onto the sheets, your knuckles turning yellow. A thin sheet of sweat was developing along your flushed body. Ellie's fingers got faster, curling and thrusting and then spreading apart before doing it over and over and over again. It was enough to make you cum right then and there if she asked.

"Your lucky baby..." she stated, looking up at you seeing you come apart. "I'm going to fuck you until you've made a pretty mess out of yourself and than i'm going to fuck you all over again."

Ellie's hand pushed your thigh all the way down to the bed, then returned to it to grip at it as she divided her tongue into your cunt. She started slow with her tongue but her fingers stayed the same pace , rough and fast.

Her tongue was so sudden it made you moan a little too loud for your liking. That didn't stop her but made her movement quicker, her fingers jabbing at your g-spot head on now. You were absolutely on fire, your skin felt hot and sticky.

You reached up to your boobs and grabbed at them, only maximizing the pleasure. Ellie licked circles on your clit, the sensitive bud sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. You threw your head back, back arching and waist thrusting along with her fingers.

Her nails dug into your thighs flesh, leaving small moon shapes there. Your moans became louder and at this point you didnt care if anyone heard, right now the only thing you cared about was Ellie's mouth on your aching cunt.

Ellie blew cool air onto your cunt, making you jerk up to meet her mouth. She chuckled at your neediness before giving you what you wanted, her mouth. There was no point in teasing you now and she obviously wasn't done punishing you.

Her tongue sped up, lapping at your cunt and really focusing on your clit. She added another finger, allowing her fingers to go deeper. Your hand gripped at her hair to grab it, thrusting your hips up faster and harder than before.

She couldn't get a good angle on your cunt so she took the hand that was on your thighs and brought it up to your waist to keep you down. You could feel your orgasm near but it felt different this time, your belly felt like it was on fire.... it didn't hurt it just felt different, a good difference?

Ellie added another finger, stretching you open. Her tongue was set and determined on your clit, the sensitive bud becoming overstimulated. You could no longer control your volume, you were basically screaming to the point ellie decided if she should stop or not. She didn't need more noise complaints.

Your body was already shaking violently, your stomach felt like it was on fire. This was terrifying how you felt but at the same time you didn't want it to stop. It felt so good and hurt in the best way possible.

Ellie didn't slow down but only sped up more and more until you let out a loud scream. The building knot in your stomach finally snapped and you were overcome with such ecstasy such pleasure, pure fucking light. It was all too much for you, your vision almost went and your hearing ceased for a split second.

From ellies point of view her fingers were soaked, along with her chest and face and even her jeans. She didn't know what was happening for a minute, her first thought was you had peed on her to be honest but after taking one look up at you she knew what had happened. You had squirted.... it had been something she had seen in an old porn tape she came across.

You felt far away from your own body, feeling only wetness on your lower half and after shock waves coming from your cunt. You came back to your body when your head was talking to you.

"Holy shit.... i didn't think i could do that..'' She admitted to you as your eyes fluttered open.

You looked over at her to see her completely soaked with your juices, you suddenly became embarrassed. You didn't know your body did did that, you didn' think it could do that. You closed your your sticky legs as best as you could.

"I'm sorry..." You said, sitting up slowly.

"No no.... It's okay!" Ellie laughed, pushing you slightly back down.

She laid on top of you, kissing you softly. She never wanted you to be ashamed of yourself even after doing something so fucking hot. She brushed your hair out of your face.

"That was a hot babe.... don't be sorry." She smiled.

You let out a sigh, honestly you were still slightly in shock and not yet fully conscious. You were sticky and sweaty, your bottom half tingling and drenched. Ellie's body on yours didn't make it any better but you were okay with that, you just wanted to be with her.

She could sense you not being all there by the way your eyes were still foggy. So she lifted herself off of you and made her way across the room to put on some music, trying to coax you back into your body again.

She went back to the bed and cuddled you up into a blanket before laying beside you, talking to you in a sweet and calm voice telling you all about her journey. She told you about the forest they traveled through and how she swore she saw fairies at one point. She just said anything to relax you and ground you.

"You're cute when you babble." You spoke, voice raspy from screaming.

"look who's back.." She joked, moving a hair from your face.

"That was intense..." You replied, you moved your hand up and down her arm before grabbing her hand in yours

"I know, they make it look so easy in porn." She said, making you perk up.

"Porn?!?!" You asked

You gave her a wide eyed look wanting to know the story behind her porn experience. She scoffed at your sudden interest and threw her hands up, regretting the decision to stay that.

"It was one time when I was 15.... I came across a tape!" She said, laughing at her stupid teenage self.

“Well i have to know the full story…”

[knpjpr]

fucked up. | jjk sm au

⇆series: #fake

⇆main ship: gamer!jungkook x student!reader

⇆genre: angst, angst, and angst and then some fluff

⇆word count: 4.5K (unedited)

⇆warnings: theres cussing, unprotected sex, (wrap it up smh.) riding, dirty talk, tension between yn and jungkook, slut shaming, taehyung x lou ;), taejoon friendship confirmed, jimin and yoongi fight, jungkook and yn fight, everyone is messy tbh

⇆ a/n: if you'd like to be added to the taglist, send me an ask + time stamps are in this part for a reason

Yn ; October 31th | 11:21 pm

The minute you and Lou are entering the house, everything is in full swing. People scattered all around, some at the bar table filling their cups with whatever type of booze they could, others dancing, playing beer pong, and much more that you knew Jin would throw a fit about later.

Lou is parting ways with you, automatically walking her way to the booze table and pushing some guy you’ve never seen over as you make yourself home to a space on the couch. Lou looked pretty, just like your dark angel costume, she’d placed herself in a white version, the curve of her body showing nicely. She was indeed a pretty angel.

Taehyung is the second person who you see tonight, walking up to you with the same smile you’ve known since fifth grade. “Care if I join you?” He’s noticeably a vampire, the corners of his mouth leaked with fake blood as his red contacts contrast with the costume.

“Sure, Lou went and ditched me… as usual.”

He’s laughing, the only sound that made you feel comfortable in this crowded house full of people you’ve seen but never made the time to get to know. The two of you had finally been able to talk after a long time and it was nice. You and Taehyung were good friends and you hoped it stayed that way.

“I like your costume.” He says, taking a quick glance over at your outfit, but deciding that if he looked any further it would make you uncomfortable.

You’re smiling at him this time, settling into the party as your side tucks into his. “You want something to drink?” Nodding slowly, Taehyung is standing up and walking towards the bar table.

It had been a few minutes of you sitting there when you decided to walk around the place. Loud music with people’s chatter to overlap with it. You easily are swinging past bodies, trying to find Taehyung’s figure who wasn’t at the bar table any more. It wasn’t until you feel a hand on your shoulder when you are close by the backyard sliding doors that you stop. “Hey.”

You turn and there Jungkook is, red solo cup in hand, and a smile placed on his face as your heart pounds. He looks hot, black hood over his head with clown makeup decorating his face, his jeans ripped like always. His costume was simple, but even so, still made your heart race.

He had been waiting to see you all night, got here early due to Namjoon’s request to get out the house and help, and so seeing you here made his heart happy, made him happy.

He’s taking a long glance down your body, swallowing hard when he notices that you aren't wearing alot to cover your figure, parts of your body like your cleavage and thighs on full display to him. “Like what you see?” You tease as he frowns down at you, which has you laughing, unintentionally placing your hand on his chest.

His gaze softens the minute your touch is all he feels. “Why don’t we go somewhere quieter?” He asks, watching as you move closer to him every time someone pushes past you. “Sure, follow me.” You say as you slip your hand into his and start leading him past others, not noticing the blush that rises on your cheeks.

Namjoon ; October 31th | 11:37 pm

Namjoon was a tall.. a little too tall handsome guy, to which he had found out by the longing glances he would get from girls and even so guys. This was not his usual thing, never had himself at a party so he was determined to find someone he knew and hang with them for the majority of the night.

Slipping past a few people, he’s coming into sight of Taehyung, choppy brown hair displaying in messy waves as a red solo cup had been accompanying him for the night. Namjoon is walking up to him, dimples on full display, which has Taehyung splitting his gaze from something to him in an instant. “Yo dude, like your costume.”

Namjoon did not plan to go all out for this simple halloween party, and seeing as Jin told him that it was a costume party, he opted to dress up as his future career. He wore a bright orange nasa jumpsuit, one that his mom bought him per his request. He wanted to be an astronaut and sure hell this kid could do it.

“Thanks.” Namjoon takes a seat beside Taehyung, finally realizing that his attention wasn’t on the 5’11 tall ass guy seated next to him, but rather on a shorter girl who’s doe eyes were scanning around the kitchen.

Namjoon recognized her almost instantly, didn't even have to question it by the way Taehyung is sighing hard. “When has she looked that pretty, and why am I just realizing this.” He blurts, Namjoon not knowing if he’s talking to him or to the air that this party didn’t have enough of.

“Why don’t you talk to her?” Taehyung cocks his head in Namjoons direction, an unrecognizable look on his face. He had been watching her the minute he assumed you found Jungkook, his gaze not being able to falter at all from her direction.

“I don’t know man, I don’t want to fuck up our friendship.” Taehyung admits, he didn’t know whatever the feeling that he felt right now was. But he did know if he were to explore it, he could possibly fuck it all up.

“Well, you never know. That’s why they are called “leaps of faith,” namjoon shifts in his spot on the couch, watching as the girl they had been looking at is startly approached by another figure. “You never know. If you don’t go, others will.”

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice, getting up from his seat the minute the girl’s face crinkles in uncomfortableness at the other unknown guy. Taehyung didn’t know what would come out of him and Lou, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t ignore how he felt at that moment.

Jimin ; November 1st | 12:03 pm

If there was one thing Jimin knew, it was that costumes at Halloween parties are not mandatory. He very much disliked dressing up in some tacky costume, like a couple who had just walked past him as a firefighter and a dalmation. Fucking lame.

Instead, Jimin dressed hot, dressed in clothes that he wore all the time, but for Yoongi, it made his heart pound and Jimin knew that. Could tell all just by the way Yoongi would take long glances the whole ride to Jin’s and would constantly suck in air the minute Jimin is softly brushing against him.

Jimin had been seated on one of the bar stools in the den of Jin’s house, carefully watching as Jin and Yoongi go at it in a round of beer pong. Yoongi was losing terribly, his attention too intertwined with the blonde that was sitting comfortably behind him.

Jin’s turn was next, only had three more cups to go before Yoongi was completely plastered, which meant that Jimin would have to drive them home. Yoongi was already starting to become drunk, the smell of booze making Jimin’s nose crinkle in a cringe. Drinking was overrated.

Jin takes one of the balls in his hands, angling his hand as he squints before chucking the ball, the sound of a plastic ball hitting liquid making Yoongi groan. “F-fuck man.” Yoongi grunts, slipping the ball out of the cup before tipping the cup up to his lips and chugging the rest of its contents.

Jimin watched with distaste, Jin smirking widely before waiting for Yoongi to try his shot with the remaining eight cups left on Jin’s side. “Man, I think it’s far to see I've won.” Jin says taunting but Yoongi glares hard at the older male. “You, you shut your big lip ass up. I can do it just fine you f-fucker.”

Yoongi reaches his hand down into the small basket full of ping pong balls, grabbing the plastic orb and trying to copy Jin’s movements, but failed with a drunken stance, the ping pong ball bouncing off the table and onto the floor.

“S-shit.” He groans, Jin smirking as Jimin rolls his eyes. There was no way that Yoongi was going to win and it was starting to annoy Jimin because he was sitting here watching him just drink and drink.

Soon enough Yoongi was sipping down his last drink, proving ultimately that Jin won fair and square. “Damn dude, usually you beat me. Must be my lucky day.” Jin laughs out and Jimin slips off from the bar stool. “I’m going to go get me some water.”

Yoongi being completely plastered was a bad thing. Not only was he extremely clumsy but he was ill-tempered and acted rash and right on the spot. So the minute he’s coming to the conclusion Jimin’s leaving him behind, he’s turning fast and accidentally spilling the remainder of booze on Jimin’s clothes.

“Fuck! Baby I didn’t mean to.” Yoongi says, not paying attention to the looks people are starting to give the minute they realize what just left his mouth.

Jimin didn’t care about his clothes, but what he did care about was Yoongi just outting them out. Outting him out. Yoongi had been trying to wipe away the stain with his hand, not even understanding that wasn’t how it worked.

Jimin slapped his hand away, Yoongi’s face forming into a frown as he realized Jimin was pissed. “Don’t fucking touch me.” Yoongi finally realized around him that people were watching, looking back at Jimin.

And here came the ill-temper that Yoongi had when drunk.

“Are you fucking embarrassed of us? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Yn ; October 31th | 11:42 pm

You had found no one occupying Jin’s guest room, slowly leading Jungkook inside and locking it so no one could come busting inside and interrupting the two of you. Which was usually drunks and or people looking for places to fuck.

Jungkook sat on the end of the bed, his usual man spreading pose coming into your line of sight. It makes you blush, having to stop yourself from being anymore of a fool that you could possibly be.

“Hey, you can come sit too.” Patting with persistence you’re sitting down with a slight giggle that has Jungkook smiling back at you. He had noticed the blush that placed your cheeks, his starting to burn.

“You’re blushing.” You blurt out, that has Jungkook flinching as a slightly irritated look was on his face. “You’re the one who’s blushing.” He says, eyebrows furrowed as you look away from, trying to cool down your face.

“It’s because of you,” he speaks out, his straightforwardness never faulting in his personality. You turn your head to face him, face bright red with doe eyes piercing his gaze. “It’s because of you that is making me blush.”

At this moment your heart is beating fast, his body shifting closer to yours as you swallow hard. Jungkook has always been clear cut, always knew what he wanted, but when you came along, his dynamic changed. He wanted you, and he wanted to prove it.

“Tell me if you don’t want to.” That’s all he says as he waits for your response. Your heart almost about to burst out of your chest. You wanted this, for him to kiss you again and to be wrapped up in just him. “Go ahead..”

That is all you had to say before his lips are in the space of yours, hearts beating at the same pace together. His hand slowly creeped up and intermingled with yours. Your stomach filled with butterflies, his warmth and smell surrounding your senses.

The next thing you knew, you were spread out on the sheets of Jin’s guest room, Jungkook’s flushed face and deep breaths as he doesn’t know what he wants to do first. “I don’t have a condom.” He says, because obviously he didn’t think he would be over your naked body like this, about to fuck you like this.

Your response is filled with shyness, the fact you’ve never let someone look at you like this, and because he didn't know he looked so adorable at this moment. Hair standing up every which way, eyes hooded, and cheeks pink. “You can continue..”

“Is this your first time?" He asks as though that should be the response to what was about to happen. You can't help the giggle that tumbles from your lips, gesturing along to his slightly shocked face. "Yeah, it is." 

He's coming over to you, looking you in the eyes as you slightly bite a hold on your lip. "Ah, uhm okay. I’ll be gentle, just tell me if anything is hurting." He talks distractedly as he investigates your body and you can't tell if he’s nervous or just doesn't know what he’s doing.

Whenever he's settled on his decision, he's moving to lay over you once more, your legs spread out towards him. Going to press another kiss to your mouth, however you're halting him before your lips are contacting. "You can chill too, you know? I don’t expect this to be perfect." 

He’s nodding his head, before sitting up and pulling his shirt off his head, which was the last article of clothing that made the two not fully naked.

"How about you ride me," An idea that plainly flew into his head, however he's finishing, moving back and onto his back. You couldn’t help the blush that crept up on your face the minute his hands came in contact with your waist, placing you above his torso.

He’s moving to align himself perfectly with your entrance, a slight moan escaping from your lips the minute you're slowly slipping to be seated on him. He groans, his hands coming to make a place on your hips. You didn’t know what to do at first, this had been your first time, and it wasn’t like you were taking notes on how to be fucked.

It was the way he would moan differently that had you figuring out a better pace for the both of you. His head had been placed back into his pillow, at an angle to where he could watch how your tits would bounce and exactly how your wetness would pool down onto his dick. “God fuck baby, you feel so fucking good.”

His words rolled off his tongue with such ease, you hadn’t been uncomfortable at all by his dirty talk. And he knew that just by the way your walls would clench and a longed out whine would slip past your lips. If you did that again he probably would have cum right then and there.

His hands held a tighter grasp on your hips the minute you were placing your hands to rest on his chest, your hips rolling at a quicker pace, his dick rubbing up and down on your walls. “Fuck..” His tip slips back as you bring down your hips back onto him. 

“Yeah baby, just like that." He praises, voice stressed as he feels his cock jerk somewhere inside you. He's not even sure where you learned this, because plot twist you didn’t learn it anywhere. Your pussy fixes around him at the finish of his words and it pushes him to the edge, making him throw his head back again.

It’s when he’s feeling his high coming that he’s moving your back, your chest pressed to his as he’s moving his legs and thrusting into your pussy. You moan loudly, his nails digging into your hips as your hands are tangled in his hair. Lips finding each other as you could feel your climax reaching too.

He doesn’t stop his fast thrusts until your moaning non stop, the feel of your nails digging hard into his hair, legs shaking uncontrollably as the two of you are hitting your climax. The sound of his moans mixing with yours as the only person you thought about was him.

His arms stay around your body until the roll of your hips transforms into little jerks, gasped breaths hitting his neck which has him smiling softly. His neck cranes so he can get a decent glance at your face, a fucked out smile on your face. “Damn, dick that good?” He teases as he feels a huff pressed to his skin.

You're fast to turn in his arms, scrunching your nose as you gaze toward him. "You suck, you really looked hot in that costume," He laughs loudly at that, as he rests his nose in the crook of your neck. You're immediately loaded up with warmth as his arms wrap themselves around your waist. He wanted nothing but to stay in this moment with you.

An all around recognizable feeling starts to pool in your stomach. It was beginning to get harder to contain your complete infatuation with Jungkook, to hold yourself back from falling excessively fast. The way he had been holding onto you gently, drawing circles with his fingertips, and even humming softly, you knew you were fucked.

Yn ; November 1st | 12:37 pm

Soon enough Jungkook is slipping away from your grasp, checking the constant notifications dinging from his phone which made him shoot up from the bed and hurry up to put on his clothes.

“Woah- Is everything okay?” You ask, pulling the sheets with you to cover yourself. Jungkook could see the worried expression on your face, “Yeah baby, don’t worry Hoseok needs me down stairs, Jimin and Yoongi are fighting.”

The minute you are hearing his words, you have to digest. First, he called you baby and boy did you like it, and second Jimin and Yoongi were fighting? You were shocked, hurrying to get out of bed but Jungkook is stopping you.

“No. You stay here okay? I’ll come back after it’s all done, it’s just so you don’t get hurt.” That’s all he says before he’s rushing out of the room leaving you with a shocked and worried feeling.

It had been about twenty minutes and Jungkook still hadn’t come back, so you decided that you would go see what was going on by yourself.

Walking down the stairs in one of Jin’s hoodies and shorts, you heard a lot of yelling, but most importantly crying. Slipping through a few people your heart almost broke at the sight.

Jungkook had been holding back Yoongi as Hoseok and Jin did the same with Jimin, Yoonig’s face streaming with tears, eyes red and nose bloodshot. “Why the fuck are you so scared huh?? Am I nothing to you?!?” He screams, trying to claw out of Jungkook’s hold as Jimin’s eyes are just as hurt as Yoongi’s are. “I never said shit about that Yoongi! I just wished you would have given me time!”

Yoongi can’t control what he’s feeling at that point, tears still streaming as he’s still trying to fight his way out of Jungkook's hold. “You’re my fucking boyfriend Jimin?! Why is that so hard to accept??” Everyone is shocked as Jimin breaks down. You had never seen Yoongi so hurt before, never seen him cry and sure as hell never seen him interested in someone. Jimin doesn’t even look Yoongi in the eyes before he’s leaving, slipping past people who were recording, tears streaming through both of their eyes. Yoongi screams after him, begging him to stop walking and come back but Jimin doesn't and you could tell it broke Yoongi more.

Soon enough Jin announces the party will continue and for no one to panic as him and Jungkook lead Yoongi up towards his room, trying to calm down the crying guy with every walk.

You needed something to drink after that, today was a lot to process and a drink from whatever was in the bottle that was in your hand would suffice. “Now bitch, boy do I have some tea to spill for you.” Lou’s voice rang from beside you, a bright smile on her face.

She instantly notices you’re in Jin’s clothes, but decides that she’ll ask you about it later, but first she needs to tell you about what she just experienced. “Girlfriend guess who just kis-” She doesn’t even get to finish her sentence before someone is walking up.

Lou steps beside you the second her personal space is being invaded, the look on the guys face nasty and uncomfortable. “I’m glad I finally found you again, I never got to ask your name before that one guy came.”

From the way Lou shudders and the way he talks you can tell she’s met him and doesn’t want to again. “Listen dude, she’s not interested.” You speak up, but the guy doesn’t take his hint, a sour look on his face the minute you’re interjecting.

“Listen bitch, why don’t you go get fucked somewhere else alright?”

He’s motioning towards Jin’s clothes, a ping in your chest the minute you realise he just slut shamed you, an instant feeling of discomfort coming through your skin. Lou is seconds from saying something before Taehyung is stepping behind the guy and coughing loudly.

The guy falters, looking over his shoulder and swallowing down. “You know what? I think my friend just called me.” No one gets to say anything before he’s walking fastly away, a worried expression on Taehyung’s face. “Yn? You alright?”

You couldn’t move, the minute you are hearing the concerned voices of Lou and Taehyung has you unintentionally crying. Taehyung doesn’t know what to do when he sees this, softly reaching out and grabbing a hold on your arm and pulling you into a hug.

Jungkook ; November 1st | 1:13 pm

Jungkook helps Jins put Yoongi on his bed before he’s walking across the room into the guest room and being hit with emptiness. He rushed downstairs and looked across the house only to see people going back to what they were doing.

It’s when he looks toward the kitchen that he sees you, but what he sees makes his thoughts run loose. He couldn’t deny that since the day he had proposed to “fake date” that maybe you still thought of it like that and even so, liked Taehyung.

He was pissed, pissed because now he was convincing himself that you played him, pissed at himself for slowly falling for you when he shouldn’t have. He’s walking over towards the kitchen area and clawing you out of Taehyung’s grasp. “Man what the fuck.” Taehyung frowns hard at the younger guy, but Jungkook isn’t looking at him.

“I think it’s time to end the deal.” Jungkook seethes through his teeth, his jaw clenched as you looked confused. Lou and Taehyung were confused behind him. “Jungkook why are you ups-” He doesn’t let you finish, the grip on your hand tight. “I was stupid to think you liked me, but you know what that’s what I get huh? I mean I was the one who suggested for you to fake date me to get over Taehyung for Lou. But even still it looks like Taehyung likes you over her.”

“You did WHAT??” And that’s when shit hits the fan. Jungkook’s eyes widen the minute he realizes what he’s said, Lou scrunching her fists around the cup she had in her hands, liquid spewing out.

“What a load of bullshit.” She doesn’t even look at Jungkook, her cold gaze directed towards you. You had seen this look before, always toward her mom or her brother when they severely pissed her off, but now it was directed toward you for the first time.

“I knew it was all fucking weird. But you two seriously took me for a fucking fool huh? I can’t believe this is what you do behind my back.” You were scrambling, trying your best to not break down. “Lou it’s not what you think-” She doesn’t let you finish either, grabbing a bottle of alcohol and throwing it on the floor, breaking it. “So this is the kind of friend you take me for!!” She looks you dead in the eyes, before turning around and realizing that Taehyung had heard Jungkook’s words. She couldn’t do this, turning around fully and running away, out the house or somewhere in the house, just anywhere away from there.

You push your way out of Jungkook’s grasp, making him realize that he fucked up the minute that he’s watching your back, your figure running away and out the house. You had just lost your best friend and the guy you were falling for all in one night.

↫ masterlist ↬

— "first loves have always been confusing, but when you're bestfriend confesses she likes someone, your willing to do anything, even fake date and even so, find your first love."

⇆a/n: if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask - (if you aren’t being tagged. turn notifications on)

TAGLIST: @pjmriri @yoongiofmine @shatzkrinslinzki @sereni-soo @avke @betysotelo18 @she-is-dreaming @jkslachimolala @rageyoudamnednerd @teti-menchon0604 @peachy-skz0325 @shreyuuu @pvt-only @lovelytaes-blog @awseokjin @girlwiththeglittereyeliner @tanumiki

[cosmicbash]

Would you maybe write something about a scenario where Em and Colson are hate fucking and Em never spends the night, but on a particular occasion, Colson is super sad/stressed and (while trying desperately to hide it) starts crying from the idea of Em leaving, so he stays and is really sweet? (Also, sorry if I went this twice–my computer's being really weird and I can't tell if it did it already!)

This isn't perfect but!! Everybody is on an angst kick and I wanted to join in so I'm using this ask 😤😤

They aren't dating.

Marshall's cock is drilling in and out of Colson's ass but that doesn't mean they're together.

It wasn't supposed to escalate to this. He's not supposed to be manhandling a stupidly long leg up in the air or swatting away the other man's helpful hands while he switches their position for the 3rd time. Hips never stopping their rapid punching forward to draw out more and more curses.

Paul wanted them to mend their beef. Come to a mutual ground of disdain at the minimum. Not bash heads together so many times over their short meeting they end up in bed together instead. Teeth and fists completely changing their plan of attack.

"F-fuck! Right there-" Marshall's definitely not supposed to be watching this annoying twink throw his long neck back and whine. Colorful arms stretching up above him to uselessly grapple onto the pillow behind his own head. "Please!"

This wasn't supposed to be the 10th or 12th time they did this.

"Shut up-" his voice is scratchy when it should be calm. "The whole floor is gonna hear you-" Paul thinks they're here mending bridges and discussing a feature.

"Then fuck me right-" Colson's voice is just as rough sounding. Marshall hates that he knows the difference between the twink's usual tone and this ruined one. How it will only get this way after he's forced his cock down the brat's throat one too many times in their foreplay. "L-learn- ah- where to stick it without directions dude!"

"Shut up." He's bruising Colson's thighs now. The dark red indents from his fingers are going to turn purple by the morning. Not that he's ever seen them do it in person at least, but the blonde never fails to send a picture over text every morning after. "Maybe if you tightened your pussy up we'd both have more fun."

Colson's chest is arching from his harder thrusts now. Voice climbing a little higher almost mockingly with each moan as he slams to the hilt.

Marshall wants to kiss him. Smother that annoyingly pretty mouth with his lips but it's not possible. Not in this position where the other man's unnecessarily large stature puts him so out of reach.

That's a good thing though, because they really don't need to be kissing. A few heated pecks here and there to get the blood pumping is one thing, making out while he fucks the blonde speechless almost feels too intimate to consider.

Theres no space for that in these brief hook ups from hotel room to hotel room, not when they still hate eachother too much for any of the burning heat they have between them to simmer down into a comfortable warmth.

"Stupid whore." His lips are pulling back in almost a snarl this time when he forces Colson over onto his stomach instead. Cock slipping free and almost losing the condom he's got slipped over it from just how quickly he pulls out. Like Colson's hole is challenging his accusation of looseness. "Fuck-" he just wants to smother the brats face down into the pillows. He tells himself his anger isn't from not being able to reach.

An impatient yank and the condoms tearing. Leaving Marshall all but ready to go put his clothes back on and storm out. There's a nasty swirl of emotions going on inside his stomach that he really doesn't want to risk bursting while they find and put on a replacement.

"W-what're you waiting for?" Colson's back is arching, and that pale mop he calls hair is lifting up to look back. So needy he can't even pause for one minute.

"Fucking condom broke- just, shit, just give me a minute-" Marshall doesn't even know where to look, not with all the blood pooling in his cock and his focus begging to be set on his rivals waiting body.

Colson put the thing on him, he can remember that much, one of those prissy little manicured nails probably scratching the elastic as he did it. He's sure he must have one in his wallet but that's across the room in his sweats, by the bathroom door. Where Colson's impatience about even waiting to let him finish his piss and get undressed had left him falling back into the door.

If he has to walk all the way over there to get it he might as well just go home.

"Forget it. I'm done." They shouldn't be fucking like this anyway. It's a major mistake.

"What?" Colson's fingers curling around his wrist is a new sensation. The wide look to his half hidden eyes punching something deep within Marshall's stomach. "We haven't even come yet-" there's a hint of hysteria in the blonde's tone and smile. "If it's because of what I said then- t-then I'll bite the fucking pillow or something alright? Don't be so dramatic dude-"

"I don't have another condom-" It's a weak excuse, they both know Colson evidently has some somewhere in the room of his own. But Marshall needs to take this brief chance to get out now before he loses it. The longer Colson stares at him the more nauseous that feeling bubbling up has him.

"...Forget it then-" the blonde's finally looking away, almost convincing Marshall that he's also second guessing this sex. But those long delicate fingers are still clutching onto his wrist and there's a palpable silence cutting through the air so thick he feels like he might choke before Colson's baby blues are meeting his head on once again. The shimmer of anxiety impossible to hide between long bangs. "Just do it raw. I-I'm clean and I- you- fuck," there's shame mixing in the look now, the grip the blonde has doubling down when Marshall reflexively tries to pull back. "Don't…."

Go. Don't go. Colson isn't saying it but Marshall can hear the word clear as day between them.

It's about the sex. He isn't satisifed yet. If Colson had cum already the bastard wouldn't be hesitating to kick him out. That's what Marshall's mind screams to reassure himself but there's still a hollow place in his stomach where he feels gutted by the look.

"...f-Fine." He tries to justify staying by remembering how annoying and painful blueballs can be. "But don't fucking text me tomorrow whining how my jizz is still leaking out of your ass."

His free hand settling back down on Colson's hip finally snaps whatever weird fog has blanketed the room. A forced sounding snicker muffling itself against the pillows while Colson's legs readjust to raise his ass. "If you can even get back inside without nutting old man-"

This kind of banter is more comfortable.

"Keep talking, I'm gonna fuck you until you're crying for me to finally finish."

"You wish." Colson's voice is still muffled but the slight challenging swing of his hips says more than enough.

Marshall's fingers instantly find their previous spot, each digit mirroring the small red dots on the opposite side of the younger rapper's skin. 

The lubes still nearby on the bed luckily, allowing him to be quick as he reslicks his achingly hard cock and squirts an extra dollop directly on his partner's hole for good measure. As much as he loves hurting the punk doing so in this way would only cause them both more trouble.

"F-fuck-" Of course Colson's as tight as a vice when he finally tries to push inside. The tight ring of muscle rejecting his entry just as vehemently as he's sure the boy's heart would. They can't do anything pain free, like the world is punishing them for continuing their facade. "Relax-" 

"Thought you said I was too loose?" Marshall can practically hear that smug little smirk Colson's sporting.

Defiantly his hips jerk forward a bit harder, until the blonde actually does cry out and his legs spread the tiniest bit wider. The tight clench Colson has evidently been giving his hole relaxing instantly to let him breach. A string of curses and clawing hands keeping Marshall from fully basking in the incomparable tight heat slowly engulfing his cock.

Even with a pillow clutched close against his face Colson is loud. Each noise climbing alongside his pace as he starts properly fucking his rival yet again. Until they're almost back up at full throttle and Colson's mesmerizing back is arching, a large hand jerking up to plant itself flat against the headboard. "Fuck, fuck, please, just like that Marsh, god- baby d-don't stop-"

The slip of a nickname doesn't escape Marshall's notice, he's just too focused on chasing down his own pleasure to properly care. Once they're done he'll mention it. Or maybe even just wait until tomorrow to text the brat a reminder, but for right now he keeps pumping his hips. Heart warming uncontrollably at the mere joke of being someone Colson can call baby.

Reflexively his palm claps down hard on the other man's ass, too sharply and sudden to do anything but sting. "Ah, f-fuck!" He's taking his anger at his own feelings out on Colson and it's not fair but he can't help himself.

The red imprint of his hand glares back in his vision long after a kinky smack should have faded and just the sight of it sticking around gets Marshall's pace growing a little erratic. He wants to tear the blonde apart, shred every bit of his being to pieces and then sew it all back together to see the taint his touch has created visualized as hundreds of scars. He wants to sully the blinding beauty he sees everytime they meet and everytime he glimpses back at the bed before he leaves. Just ruin Colson completely so that there's no other choice but him in the whole world for the blonde to turn to.

But he's not falling in love.

That would mean he's stupid enough to fall for someone who could never settle for him. That he's actively continuing to come back and push the bar with every hookup just to see when enough is enough and he'll finally be left on the otherside of the hotel room door. Or the one waking up alone in bed the morning after.

Marshall wouldn't.

"S-shit wait- I-" Colson's hips are stuttering back to meet his, the hand he's still got hugging the pillow abandoning it in favor of stuffing down between his legs. It's obvious the blonde's close. Marshall can feel it in the tight grip around his cock and hear it in that shaky voice. It's not until he doubles down to fuck the younger rapper hard enough to knock his slender body inch by inch further up the bed that Marshall realizes he's trying to hold out. "N-not yet, ah, fuck, s-slow down-"

"No-" he's close himself, chest heaving and balls tightening as it is. There's no way he's letting Colson try to change the pace now. "Save, fuck, save that edging shit for after I leave-" he's lashing out for control again but can't stop himself.

This time instead of pinching pale skin Marshall slides his fingers up into sweaty blonde hair. Yanking back until he's got the man's back arched perfectly and his mouth can seal in a bite to one pointy shoulderblade. Fingers snaking around to hold Colson up there by his throat. "Fucking take it like a good whore and come Kelly." 

In this position he feels unbelievably deeper and there's nothing to block out the blonde's gasps and cries.

Nails scratch quickly along his thigh but Marshall ignores them to keep rolling his hips. The need to make Colson finish first fueling his free hand to climb up to knock away the punks own. Quickly jerking up and down over the soaked cock the other man was trying so hard to squeeze and restrict.

"N-no, no, fuck, Marshall-" a hand's curling around the back of his head to pull him close despite Colson's protests. Every atom in the other males body seeming to reach out and beg and plead for him to come closer, to fuck him harder until they split through the magnetic field and combine into one. Marshall wants to kiss him again. Hates how he can't even see the brats mouth over his shoulder from his current position. His fingers fly faster and hips roll up firmer in retaliation. "F-fuck-" 

There's a wet sob breaking the moans in the air, piercing straight through his chest like a bullet while Colson's hips stutter back and hot release paints across his fingers. Sending him right over the edge himself. Body forcing them both forward so he can hump and grind his pelvis against Colson's ass down to the bone while he pumps and fills the twink up with his own release. The hands around his neck and cock turning into strong arms around the blonde's chest and waist like a hug.

It's the closest thing to a cuddle Marshall will allow himself. That he can't actually prevent his orgasming body from resisting.

There's so much comfort and begging from his body to stay like that, for Colson to never leave him in those moments that the rapper can't help but tear up a little himself.

But just as quickly as its come sensibility returns and with it the guilt and shame. Scaring his arms free and his body away from Colson's usually still trembling form.

"Wait-" fingers are grabbing his wrist again, weaker this time.

Marshall's still buried to the hilt, even though his chest has unstuck itself from Colson's museum print of a back tatt. Sorry is dancing on the tip of his tongue. Like it always does. Always too graceful to ever trip up and spit out though before he finally leaves.

"A-again." Colson's face is still buried in the pillow, eyes and nose planted firmly down while his chins pulled up.

"What?" A second round isn't completely crazy for them, sometimes when the anger is hot enough its even necessary but not tonight. Marshall shouldn't even be humoring the request, not with how fragile his emotions feel, but Colson's hand refuses to let go.

"Fuck me. Please. Just-" Now with his head clearing the rapper can finally notice how Colson's shoulders are turning inwards, how the tone of his voice carries a shake. "Do whatever. I-I dont care. Just don't- fuck, d-don't-"

Go.

Leave. He has to leave. 

"Colson?" The name feels strange in Marshall's mouth from all the "kelly"'s "brats" and other derogatory words he usually uses in it's place.

Wet baby blues peering back all but pin him in place whether he wants to leave or not. Their message clear.

"Please." A single word and it's as effective as a sledgehammer around his heart.

"I-" Can't. Shouldn't. "I'm not hard anymore."

On a normal night that kind of obvious embarrassed blurt of an answer would get the kid smiling, one of those rare soft warm looks where his crows feet and gums showed, that scorched Marshall's skin from how brightly it radiated affection. Each chuckle or snort following just another stone slamming hard against his heart.

Tonight Colson doesn't smile. Instead of crinkling at the corner to flash the only hint at Colson's slow aging those lashes drop just low enough to bubble up the small collection of tears already present. His pretty but thin lips quivering up and down to fight back a frown. 

A year ago this exact look was the center of so many fantasies. He had wanted nothing more than to see the blonde crumble and break apart in front of him like a pathetic mess.

Right now instead of satisfaction all Marshall's body feels is hollow. Like his heart has finally abandoned his chest and surrendered itself to the hopefully quick acting acids of his stomach. The rapper doesn't think he can possibly feel worse but then Colson's arching his body away from him. Slipping his soft cock free of that lingering tight heat and stealing away any trace of faux comfort he feels with every centimeter of separating skin.

"I'll take care of it-" Colson's voice is hoarse, like hes fighting down the threat of a sob while his body twists onto its side. The sluggish lift of a hand back towards his cock piercing through him like a killing blow.

"No." Now his throat feels tight too. Shame and guilt pouring down his spine at the thought of Colson pushing through his obvious pain and turmoil to jerk his cock back to life just so he stays a few moments longer.

"Please-" Baby blue eyes are shining at Marshall again. The fast slip of a tear down one flushed cheek only making his fingers dig harder into younger male's wrist. "Marshall-"

He can't do this.

"No-"

"Yes!" Colson's scream pierces the silence so suddenly he thinks his wars might be ringing. But the pure desperation painted in angry eyes keeps Marshall's own from flinching all the way closed. "I'll fucking find you viagra or- or suck your dick until my jaws sore-" now Colson's own fingers are cutting back, prying at the preventative grip he's got on the blonde's hand like a caged animal might. "I don't care what- just- you- you aren't- you can't-"

It hurts, and with the way Colson's legs are twitching beneath him Marshall knows a kick or knee to his gut might come next. None of it compares to how badly his throat tears when he speaks though. "I'm not fucking you!" Somehow he manages to put every ounce of finality in his voice that he intends. Freezing Colson's grappling and rambling in an instant.

The ensuing silence feels deafening. 

Colson's still staring at him. Pain and anger warring across his face in small twitches and ticks. Marshall's mouth just repeats itself. Quieter this time. The heave if his lungs breaking up his words in tight exhales. "I'm not….I….I'm not going to fuck you."

There's a million more words tangling on his tongue. The order jumbling and backing them up like a traffic jam until he feels like he can't even breathe anymore.

I want to stay. I'm sorry. Dont do this to yourself. Please. Don't cry. Colson-

"I'm sorry." Colson cracks first. Expression screwing up and the floodgates behind his eyes opening as he sobs. "I'm so fucking sorry Marshall-"

This time he doesn't resist that ache to kiss the blonde. 

It's messy and Colson's mouth tastes like snot and tears already but Marshall presses closer anywhere. Cradling the younger rapper's skull with his free hand so tightly he knows he has to be pulling out hair. The wrist he'd snatched pinned between their bodies in a way that makes his own ache. But he ignores all of that and kisses Colson harder. Smacking their lips and teeth against one another in hopes the words trapped in his throat might pour their way out and into Colson's. Down the blonde's own throat to reach his heart.

He kisses Colson until he can't physically do it any longer. The sharp sting of oxygen deprivation jolting through his brain and colored spots dancing behind his closed eyes before their lips finally part. 

Marshall wants to press so close he sinks down into Colson's bones. Join in with his marrow and spend the rest of his life repairing every broken piece of the beautiful man's soul from the inside out.

That's not possible though so he settles for pulling Colson close. Enveloping him in his arms the same way he wishes he had a dozen times over. Stabilizing him through every shuddering sob and heartbreaking tremble.

He's not falling in love.

"I got you."

He'd already crash landed there long ago. 

[uhhhhhhhhhsblogyea]

♤| dragon ball shapeshifter au

storyline rundown

part two

tw: profanity !! a bit of gore and such

the story begins on kakarot's farm! he lives with his parents, bardock and gine, and his brother raditz.

kakarot takes his produce to the market to sell, talking to krillin who is a police officer watching over in case of robbery or stolen goods, with his wife 18 and his daughter marron.

he hangs out there and sells all his produce, making a whopping amount of money to give back to his mother to go towards their farm. so thats what he does.

later that night, raditz barged in through the door, huffing loudly and covered in purple blood. it had a reddish tint. gine and bardock jump to their feet, bardock still in his training gi and gine in her white shirt and some sweatpants. "raditz!? what happened?" bardock exclaimed, gine following up with "why are you covered in... purple blood!?" this caused kakarot to come out of his room in a rush, "h-h-holy s-shit! i didnt kill anyone i swear mom, mom, dad please, i wouldn't do that!" raditz panicked. "s-something tried to attack me! i didnt know what to do so i attacked back!!" he tries to wipe the blood off, it being on his face.

whatever happened, scared raditz enough to make him shake in fear and what seems to be regret despite it being to protect himself.

kakarot however, still was unsure what happened. his father said he would explain in the morning, the situation was too dire for kakarot to get involved - especially with the police.

in town, vegeta covered his bloodied chest, panting as he hid deep in an alleyway. "goddammit," he huffs, slicking his hair back to keep the human bangs out of his face. hes got a huge gash across his chest, thanks to that damned raditz he happened to work with. luckily, he was morphed into some other alien lifeform and not his original shift state. he slowly morphed into a bird, a finch, and flew off to him apartment. he always kept his window cracked just in case this were to happen. just his luck, we wont be able to eat and to heal he needs that energy for food or else hell be out asleep for awhile.

he decides calling off work, so thats what he does. what he doesnt expect is a man with a thick ass fucking tail and slicked back purple hair and red eyes to be reading a book, lounging like a king on his bed. "f... frieza!?" vegeta says, startled.

"ah hello my creation! lovely seeing you here, dont you think?" he throws the book off to the side, getting up and striding over to the bloodied vegeta. "aw looks like you got a paper cut." he jabs a finger into vegetas cut across his chest. vegeta groans in pain, a tentacle whipping around to hit frieza away into a safer distance, but the icejin blocks smoothly with his muscled tail.

from here:

wow!! you found out vegeta is a "creation" of friezas, but what exactly does that mean?

raditz gets taken in for questioning. he gets blamed for a murder that happened on the otherside of town, the law system being dumb sentenced him to 25 years in prision for a murder he didnt do

kakarot is confused, bardock telling him there arent any alien threats and it was a misunderstanding on the jury and judge's parts bc raditz was getting mugged and a murder far away happened at roughly the same time, and they were desperate to throw someone into jail.

this is a lie, to some extent. kakarot believes it, living happily thinking there are no threats

vegeta attacked raditz, needing food. shapeshifters need to eat hearts and lungs of animals as food

raditz is the one who cut him across the chest (thatd why he has a scar on his chest in the ref sheet)

kakarot has to bring crops and milk into a market farther into town sometime in the next week, it being an event ran by capsule corp, a company that produces a lot of housing and vehicles and being in business for 40 years being the anniversary that day.

vegeta is a mechanical manager, wearing fancy clothing that day since its technically a high spot in the ranks for capsule corp.

vegeta likes milk, surprisingly. it helps a lot when recovering damage, especially his species. this is when he meets kakarot

kakarot is running his stand with the crates of crops and glass jars of milk set out on display with their price, krillin with him

vegeta is annoyed he has to speak up to get the seller's attention so he grunts with an "ahem"

kakarot jumps, apologizing and asking what he wants to buy. vegeta gets his milk and some vegetables for someone he knows

"hey, whats with the fancy suit?"

"you dont know who i am?"

"no. should i?"

"i-? im vegeta! im manager of the mechanics in capsule corp!"

"oh. is the job hard?"

they conversate, as kakarot sells his produce happily listening as he was able to get the short man with a temper to talk about his job.

vegeta himself was caught off guard by this action but happily talks

this ends in kakarot running behing the stand's curtain and grabbing his business card so vegeta can have a discount on milk next time he decides to buy

vegeta takes the card walking off

the card has kakarots name and number on the back, a message saying "text me personally if you want extra, i dont mind taking some. you seem cool!"

vegeta is a bit ticked, but pockets the card

over time, vegeta and kakarot talk over text a bit, kakarot delivering him milk like an old time milk delivery boy

turns out he actually used to be one as a kid

turns out hes been into marial arts as well, a long time interest of vegetas

they bond over this, kakarot find himself growing a crush on vegeta

one time kakarot stops buy with a delivery unannounced, not knowing he typed the text but didnt send it. he knocks on vegetas apartment door, but no answer.

he checks to see if its unlocked, and it is so he lets himself in, just wanting to put the delivery on the counter and head out.

he doesnt expect to turn around and see a vegeta with a towel wrapped around his waist, tentacles coming out of his back, green eyes, and sharp ears, teeth, and claws. "K-KAKAROT!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" he yells, surprised. he doesn't have bangs either

"why do you have tentacles?? why do you look different? why do you have that scar?"

vegeta is caught off guard, not sure if he should push kakarot out or tell him the truth. one way or another he knows the truth will spread, so he carefully debates his options

he tells kakarot the truth, hes a shapeshifter and hes insanely dangerous

kakarot is surprised dangerous aliens exist

he tells vegeta this, and deep down vegeta is mad kakarot is sheltered

little do they know as they conversate and bond, growing closer to each other kakarot finds out vegeta made a vow not to ever get in a relationship no matter how much he envied them, especially a human relationship, a certain someone is watching them and listening in, theyre keeping tabs on vegetas and kakarots feelings

trust issues amirite?

later that night, kakarot says his goodbye heading home, heart pounding. wow!!!! vegeta is... great. very great. kinda cute too, i mean what!?? no!!

kakarot rants to himself aloud in his room, window open to keep himself cool, about vegeta as he debates his feelings. he doesnt care if this seems out of character in his friends terms, all they see from him anyway is a dense fightcrazed guy with a dysfunctional relationship with an ex and his son. he realized vegeta doesnt see him like that, but, what DOES vegeta see him as?

he calls it a night

he wakes up to a "thwap, thwap, thwap" against his wooden floor

he sits up, looking around and seeing a short figure sitting at his desk.

"whos there?"

"ah, youre awake monkey! i have valuable information for you, about your lovely vegeta." the voice is squeaky

"and, who is telling me this?" kakarots interest is piqued, not seeing the mysterious figure as a threat, as of now at least

"oh-hohoho! im dr. cold! but please, call me frieza. doctor cold is my father's name."

"and what do you have to tell me about vegeta?"

"mmm, are you sure you want to know?" he gets up, beginning to pace

"theres a catch isnt there" kakarot realizes, serious

"oh! maybe you arent so dense afterall. yes, there iss monkey. its simple, deliever some of your left over crop to my facility tomorrow, i already left the address on a paper over on that... pitiful little desk of yours." frieza pauses. "vegeta will kill you if you arent careful. hes hungry, and he wants that heart. but... i think the poor creation wants it in more than one way. kill him before he kills you."

frieza hands kakarot a box cutter

"thats the only thing that will kill him. if you dont do it i expect that delivery tomorrow by midnight. if you dont show, and theres no news of him being dead, youll be a brilliant collection to my creations, monkey!" the man laughs in joy, clasping his hands together as his red eyes pierce through kakarot

kakarot reluctantly agrees, unsure how this will play out

PART TWO WILL BE MADE SOON!!!

anyway heres the part 1 of the rundown.

[kpop---scenarios]

Deception

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Much to your surprise your felt the opposite of disgust from Jooheon’s words. You were excited, for the first time in a while you were needed and semi wanted, even if it wasn’t in the best way, you still were. You’d finished your breakfast, but you didn’t know how you managed to concentrate on eating when Jooheon’s fingers traced your upper thigh constantly. You’d try to shoo him away, not wanting to be a dripping mess all day but he didn’t care.

He slips his hand inbetween your legs, leaving his hand just high enough for you to feel the heat radiating off his palm but not high enough to touch your sensitive areas. You let out a small annoyed groan. You hated being teased. Right after the sound escaped your lips you remembered you were surrounded by 6 other men who stared at you, curiously.

“I don’t have anything to wear tonight” you coughed, covering up the touches.

“It’ll be taken care of.” Shownu tells you with a nod. “Be ready for 9pm" he says, walking away from the table.

Looking at the clock it was only 10:30am, so you went to one of the three places you’re allowed, the living room. Sitting down you grabbed the remote to get lost in a drama. Halfway through the first episode you were joined by a skinny blonde haired man, you were pretty sure his name was Minhyuk.

“What are you watching?” he asked you.

“Strong Girl Bong-Soon" you answer, eyes never leaving the screen.

“Ah that’s a good one" he says. You were about to answer when you were both distracted by loud footsteps coming into the room.

“Min, we gotta go" Kihyun yells, gun in his hand. Minhyuk quickly jumps up, pulling a gun from the back waistline of his pants.

“Get in Wonho's room and don’t come out until someone gets you" Changkyun growls before following the other two out. You sat there shocked for a moment, until you heard more gunshots. You scrambled off the couch, racing to the stairs before locking yoursnothing Wonho's room. You ran to the little nook between the wall and your bed, hiding away.

It felt like hours before the gunshots stopped. In reality it had only been a few minutes. You were terrified. You didn’t know if one of them had been killed or if all of them had been. You panicked a little more at the sound of your doorknob rattling. You squeezed yourself in the corner as much as you could as the person on the other side worked ferociously to unlock your door.

Once they got it, the door swung open, hitting the wall. You held your breath, scolding yourself for making the smallest movement. You wanted to close your eyes so badly but you couldn’t. You had to know who is was.

You heard nothing but the sound of a breathy chuckle.

“Found you" a man with a gold tooth smiles. You let out a blood curdling scream at the sight of the man with a gun. “I was wondering what my men meant when they said MX took a girl home. They don’t do that unless it’s to torture them. Or fuck them and then kill them. But you’ve seemed to have them wrapped around your fingers” he says, eyes never leaving yours.

“I-I.. n-no I d-dont" you stutter, terrified of the man.

“Well we’ll see how they react when they find your lifeless body in here" he chuckles, reaching out to grab your hair and yank you towards him.

“Please don’t" you screamed, kicking your legs in an attempt to escape from the man.

“Shut up bitch" he growled, slapping you hard in the face before releasing your hair. Just as he was about to give you a good swift kick to your ribs, theres a gunshot and he collapses to the floor, groaning in pain and holding his lef. You then look up to see Jooheon standing there, tucking his gun away before walking over to you.

You sat there with your knees pulled up to your chest as Jooheon kneels infront of you.

“Are you okay baby?” he asks, cupping your cheek in his hand. You wince at the warmth of his hand against your sore cheek.

“Did he hit you?” He growls. A tear rolls down your cheek as your nod your head yes.

Looking back at it, Jooheon can see the bruise starting to form and the blackness around your eye.

Before you can even stand up the other 6 men are standing in the doorway. “Take him to the basement" Jooheon says, his eyes not leaving your face. Wonho and Hyungwon grab the man, dragging him away.

You refuse to look anyone in the eyes, ashamed of the giant bruise forming on your face.

“Did he touch her?” Shownu asks.

“Hit her in the face" Jooheon answers.

“I’m going to fucking kill him" Shownu snaps before stalking off, you can only assume he’s headed for the basement as well.

“I’m fine you guys" you say, head still hanging down.

“Look at us" Kihyun says.

Silently you raise your head, looking at each man very quickly. None of them say anything before exiting the room with an angered look on their faces.

“Get in the tub, relax and have a nap. We’ve got some stuff to deal with before tonight” Jooheon says before leaving a kiss on your good cheek and leaving.

After sometime soaking in the tub, icing your face and sleeping for atleast 5 hours, it was now time to get ready for your first mission tonight. To say you were nervous was a giant understatement.

Shownu had gone over everything with you already. You were to arrive without them as one of the ladies for tonight. You were to wait in the VIP room by the door and greet their “friend” when he arrived. Kihyun would be watching with a sniper from a vantage point. Wonho would be outside of the room as a bodyguard. Jooheon and Changkyun would be there with Shownu closing the deal. Hyungwon and Minhyuk would be patrolling the rest of the club, weapons on hand to make sure nothing was to go down.

He assured you that you would be more than safe. Although they hadn’t known you for long, they all were very fond of you and wouldn’t let anything to happen to you. Their baby, he called you. You smiled at the memory of him calling you that. It had made you feel special.

Luckily for you, they’d called in a professional makeup artist to work on your face since you had no make up here and couldn’t show up with a giant bruise over half your face. The minute she stepped away from you and you looked in the mirror you were shocked. She had given you a smokey eye with a deep red lipstick. The bruise was not noticeable in the slightest and you felt beautiful. You thanked her over and over again before she left so you could get dressed. The only dress hanging in the closet was one even you would likely wouldn’t wear. It was extremely short, tight and strapless. You could almost see your ass cheeks when you walked. You weren’t going to complain though. You only had to grind on the guy and pretend to be interested until he agreed to Shownu’s terms and you were pretty confident you’d be able to handle it.

The boys had already left, talking about how they needed to be there before you, so none had seen you quite yet. You twiddle your thumbs the entire 25 minute car ride back to the club. The closer you got the more nervous you were. You’d tried to calm yourself but it didn’t work overly well.

The car parked at the back entrance of the club and your driver got out to open the door for you. You stepped out in your red Louis Vuitton pumps and walked into the building with confidence.

You’d remembered all the director Shownu gave you and mentioned you’d see Wonho at the end of the hallway. Strutting your stuff, you walked towards him with a little sway in your hips, your nerves completely gone now.

You smirked as you watched his eyes trail your body. He leans in close to you, and gives you a quick slap on the ass before opening the door for you.

The second that door opens, Changkyun, Shownu and Jooheon turn their heads to look at you. Each one with a dirty look on their face and lust in their eyes.

“He’s not here yet baby" Changkyun smirks before patting his knee for tou to sit on. Before you can sit down, you hear 2 knocks at the door, Wonho’s signal that he had showed up.

It was show time.

You stood next to the mans chair as the door was opened for him. The three men stood and bowed as the man bowed back to him. He sits down in the chair before smiling up at you.

“Well hello there" he smirks. “what’s you’re name?” he asked. Shownu had told you to make sure you gave a fake name.

“Hyuna" you smiled with a bow.

“Fetch me a drink and then come sit on my lap" he says to you. You quickly make your way to the bar getting his drink before getting as comfortable as you could on his lap.

You did everything you could to make sure you were doing a good enough job with your part. You stroked his face, wiggled your ass in his lap, nibbled on his earlobe. Anytime you did anything remotely sexual the men tensed up, they were always watching. Their eyes almost shot from their heads rhe moment he began rubbing your thigh. You thought they were going to kill him right there.

“Well I think we can make a deal. Why don’t you excuse us darling. Let the men work now" he says almost pushing you off his lap. Before you can leave the man harshly slaps your ass.

Wonho closes the door behind you and now you feel like you can finally breathe.

“You okay baby?” he asks, resting his hand on your lower back.

“Yeah. I just need a drink and the bathroom. And then a long fucking shower to scrub the stench of his nasty hands off of me" you shudder. Wonho let’s out a chuckle before watching you walk down the hallway, definitely checking out your ass.

Stepping out of the bathroom stall, you turn on the water to begin washing your hands. The door to the bathroom bursts open, scaring you into spraying water all over the bathroom.

You look up to see Jooheon standing there, his eyes dark and needy. He slowly walks towards you, causing you to step back until you’re trapped against the wall.

“I wanted to tear him apart while he was touching you" he growled into your ear. His hands reach down to touch your thighs, slipping his fingers under your dress as you spread your legs slightly for him.

“No panties baby? You’re a naughty girl. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this” he says, gliding his fingers across your pussy.

“Please give me more” you whine as you buck your hips towards Jooheon’s already erect cock.

“This is going to have to be quick baby" he smirks, unbuckling his belt and sliding down his pants just enough to allow his cock to spring free. It wasn’t as thick as Wonho’s but you were dripping at the sight of the length.

“Please fuck me daddy" you moan, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. Jooheon lines himself up with your entrance, but instead of easing his way in, he rams his cock inside of you. He quickly pulls back out and thrusts back in, giving you no time to adjust.

He wasn’t lying when he said it needed to be quick.

Jooheon had angled himself in the perfect position to be able to have your clit rub up against him as he fucked you against the wall ruthlessly.

“You’re such a dirty little alut aren’t you?” he growled, pounding himself inside you again.

“Yes daddy, I’m such a slut” you cry as you bounce on his cock, your breasts had fallen out of your dress. Jooheon leans forward, taking one in his mouth to suck on, never slowing his pace.

“Cum for me you dirty slut" he barks. His harsh words quickening your orgasm, the knot getting tighter and tighter with every harsh thrust.

“I said cum whore” he grunted, his thrusts becoming sloppy as his need to cum grows stronger.

“Fuck daddy" you cry out, grabbing onto your breasts to squeeze as your eyes roll back into your head from the overwhelming sensation of the release.

“Cum in my pussy daddy" you cry out.

“Only of you’re going to walk around with my cum in your for the rest of the night" he growls at you.

“Anything you want” you whisper. And with those words, Jooheon releases himself into you, his seed spilling and coating your walls.

Jooheon pulled out of you, and put you back on the ground. You fixed your dress and your makeup the best you could before he grabbed your hand to lead you out of the bathroom. With every step you took, you could feel his cum slide down your legs.

You stopped walking, pulling him to you. “I don’t like how this feels" you whisper in his ear. Jooheon lets out a small chuckle.

“Let’s get you home and cleaned up” he says, pulling you through the crowd and through the front doors.

You finally felt happier than you had in a long time and safe. But little did you know, there were a pair of eyes that had their sights set on you.

And they would stop at absolutely nothing to get to you.

《》《》《》《》《》《》》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

Tag List!

@justdidabadthing @mntax @skittlez-area512 @beaubunny @littlebetafefe @namnessa @kpopstuffs002 @xxkittenbebexx @dreamingwithblues @making-me-blush @im-a-special-bebe @kpopdoyouloveme @vivinae @rowanablair @jaeeyoona @tipsymarklee @meryljill-111192 @spicy-shrek @kweenkammimnida

[hellimagines]

Please, Don’t Take it Back -- Nathan Young

*My masterlist link can be found in my blog description*

Request: “Requesting shamelessly. If you have time can you do a Nathan/Reader where shes like his go to. He goes to her with all his problems and she helps him. And thensomething big happens and he realizes he hasnt been doing the same for her? Bonus points  if theres a sudden and aggressive declaration of love!  I love your face!!!” @stargazingwithcassidy

Summary: After another altercation with your boyfriend, you pick Nathan up from the Community Center, and the truth comes out.

Warnings: domestic abuse, graphic injury depictions

Pairing: Nathan Young x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,000+

A/N: Everyone, Cassidy is the best and I love them and please go give them a follow! Also, lemme know if you liked this bitch

“You know I love you… right?”

You paused, your palms pressed against the kitchen flooring of your boyfriend’s house. Blood dripped from your nose and the corner of your lip, dribbling onto the white tile below and causing tiny mouse-like puddles. Lifting your head you saw Drew knelt beside you, his face full of false concern and pity. His hand was gently placed on your shaking shoulders, his knuckles split, bruised, and bloody from all the punching and attacking he had done. His eyebrows were furrowed over his brown eyes, but they held no emotion.

“Right,” you replied simply, finally looking away so you could raise yourself onto shaking legs. You were forced to stumble over to the counter, your broken fingers gripping onto the marble to keep from falling back to your knees. Pain ricocheted from the tips of your fingers to the back of your shoulder blade, but you ignored it in favor of staying upright. A weak smile spread across your lips as you looked back to your attacker, trying to convince him (and yourself) that you were okay. “Can I go pick Nathan up now? His mum called earlier and she won’t be able to grab ‘im. I’ll be back within the hour.” It was a lie, Nathan had been the one texting you non-stop to grab a bite with him, and you weren’t planning on being back until later.

Drew looked at you carefully, still crouched beside your puddle of blood on the floor. He breathed in, “Fine. Be back by 4, or we’re going to have another talk, got it?”

“Yes, I’ll be back before then,” you nodded, willing yourself to straighten out as he stood up. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go.” Drew flicked his hand towards the door and you didn’t hesitate before scurrying away, tail metaphorically tucked between your legs.

You rushed to the car, practically stumbling over your own feet in your haste as the front door slammed behind you. Tears trickled down your face and mixed with your blood, causing pink droplets to fall from your chin. Opening the car door took you a minute, but once you were safely inside, you managed to finally take a handful of calming breaths. Your eyes were shut and your hands loosely gripped the steering wheel. You didn’t have much time to think about the past hour- Nathan was probably already waiting for you, and making him wait much longer would only cause a boatload of questions. So, with a deep, ragged breath, you drove away in pursuit of the Community Center and its resident dumbass.

--

“Oi, Cunt Face! Took you long enough, I’ve been out here for days!” Nathan howled across the parking lot, dramatically trudging himself over to your car. A cigarette hung from his pouting lips, but he flicked it away before approaching your car. “The starvation and dehydration has already started kickin’ in! I mean look at me! I’m skin and bones,” he cried, swinging open the door and sliding in.

“Nathan, you’ve always been skin and bones. Shut up,” you laughed quietly, pulling out of the parking lot without looking at your best friend.

Nathan gasped, “Are you skeleton shaming me right now? Because I don’t appreciate that.”

“You know what? Maybe I am- there’s too many skeletons out there, it’s like the pirate days all over again,” you giggled. “I mean honestly-”

“The hell’s happened to your face?” Nathan suddenly shouted, cutting you off and startling you into jerking the car. “You look like you’ve just gotten out of a fight ring- and lost!”

You laughed nervously, “D-Don’t worry about it, Nath’, just an accident. Besides, we all know I’d kick ass in a fight ring.” You were hoping that with enough jokes and playful laughs, Nathan would drop the subject.

But Nathan was an observant pissfire and rarely gave up on things he became fixated on. “Bullshit! That ain’t no accident, love. Your fingers are all fucked, and your face is every shade of black and blue in existence. What happened?”

You let your eyes wander over to Nathan briefly, before focusing them back on the empty road ahead. You didn’t want to tell your curly-haired best friend what had truly happened to you for a multitude of reasons. For starters, Nathan would try and shove you into a clinic, or worse, fix the injuries himself. Just the thought of Nathan attempting to fix your fingers made you shiver. Then, after making sure you were okay, he’d march his scrawny-ass over to Drew and pick a fight. A fight, he would no doubt lose. You had no intention of letting your best friend get mauled just because your boyfriend had a temper.

“(Y/N), please. Tell me what’s going on? It seems like every week you’ve got a new injury and a newly broken heart. I’m a jerk, yeah, but I’m not stupid. He’s hurtin’ you, isn’t he?” Nathan snarled- his soft voice now filled with enough venom to make his Irish accent nearly incoherent. “I’ll fuck him right up if he is. Make ‘im piss and vomit blood for months. ‘Ow’s that sound? Make sure ‘e never bothers you again.”

You sighed heavily. Gripping the steering wheel with your unbroken hand, you veered into an abandon store parking lot and shut off the car. Nathan was uncharacteristically quiet, probably sensing that you were finally about to open up. You shifted in your seat, pressing your aching back against the door so you could fully face him. His green eyes were narrowed with worry and concern, his lips pulled into a deep frown, and his fingers tugged on the various holes of his orange jumpsuit. Over the past few months, you had grown tired of constantly having to lie to everyone around you, including yourself. Drew didn’t love you, not anymore, and it hurt to admit. But you had to tell someone about what was going on; even if that someone had never taken anything seriously in his life.

“Just… just let me talk, okay? No interrupting, no nothing. Because if I stop I won’t get going again. Okay?” Nathan nodded, so you began. “We’ve been dating for like two years, yeah? And shit was amazing in the beginning: flowers, books, trips, coffee, texts, car rides, meeting everyone, all that crap. But after the first year, he got mean. He was controlling and kept looking over my shoulder. Everything I did and everywhere I went, he was there. Then, one night, I went out without tellin’ him. I figured that a night away would do the both of us good. I went out with you and the others, smoked a bit and fell asleep on your floor. Shit we used to do all the time. But when I got home that morning, he was… he was mad. Like, really mad. He hurt me until I passed out, and when I woke up, he had gotten me flowers and another book. So, to me, things were okay. One time thing, yeah? But then it became a monthly thing. Then a weekly. And now, I’m lucky if a day goes by that I don’t get slapped or something. I don’t know how to get out of it. I don’t know what to do, Nath’.”

After your admittance, the car was filled with a heavy silence. You had tears falling freely from your eyes, while Nathan had barely-concealed ones that he refused to let fall. He needed to be strong for you, the same way you had been strong for yourself. Nathan’s heart hurt at the fact that you had been dealing with near-constant abuse for over a year. That he had no idea about any of it, and that he wasn’t there for you or there to help you during any of it. He had been so focused on his own issues, his own demons, that he didn’t take a second to consider the devil by your side.

“I’m sorry,” he began, the words tumbling from his quivering lips. “I’m sorry that you felt that you couldn’t trust me, or anyone, to help you. I’m sorry that you haven’t felt true love and happiness, that wasn’t followed by being hurt, for two years. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you like I promised I would. I’m sorry, for everything.”

“It’s not your fault-”

Nathan shook his head, “I’m not saying it’s my fault. And it’s not yours, either. It’s Drew’s fault for being a fucked sack of shit. But, what I’m saying, is that I’m sorry. And even though I haven’t been there for you lately, I’m here now. I will do everything in my immortal power to keep you from ever going back to him, from ever getting hurt by him. I love you too much to see another one of these injuries on you. Come back to the Community Center with me, sleep there. We’ll grab some food, like we planned, and then figure all this shit out,” Nathan said, reaching across the console to grab your uninjured hand. “But first, let’s go to the clinic to get this hand fixed.”

“I can’t go to the clinic, they’ll ask questions- but wait, what did you say?” Your brain was turning in mushy circles after Nathan’s speech, focusing on one part of his words, and then all of them, and then none. But one thing did stand out and stayed circling your mind.

“That you can sleep with me at the Center. Mum kicked me out, remember?”

“No, not about that. The love part, you said you love me,” you whispered, your mouth opened in awe. Nathan suddenly looked panicked. His worried face was now a deep red, and he began spluttering over nothing. “Don’t take it back. Please, don’t take it back,” you spit out quickly, gripping his hand tightly. “I love you too. Fuck, Nathan, I’ve always loved you.”

Nathan’s breath hitched and his eyes widened impossibly more, but his face became soft. “You have? Oh God, (Y/N), I should’ve said something sooner! I could’ve made you happy and you wouldn’t have had to deal with that douchecanoe!”

You giggled softly at Nathan’s words, a genuine smile gracing your features. “I should’ve said something, too. But at least we know now.”

“Yeah, you can love me now instead of him,” Nathan huffed, but you shook your head.

“Doesn’t work like that, Nath’, and you know it. I’m gonna need time to heal from all this, and I don’t want to use you as my medicine. I want you to be there for me, but I don’t want to rely on you to be happy. Only once I’ve officially broken up with him and know I’m safe, will I consider us dating. For now… for now, let’s just get these fingers dealt with, grab some food, and head back to the Center.”

Nathan nodded quickly in understanding. “Of course, (Y/N/N). I’ll be here for you as long as you need me to. Best friends ‘til the end of time,” he joked, flashing you a wink as you started the car back up.

“Best friends ‘til the end of time,” you confirmed with an equally goofy smile on your face. You pulled out of the parking lot suddenly feeling lighter, as though the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. You still had a long way to go, and you weren’t even close to being out-of-the-clear, but you were one step closer to safety; to happiness. And that was all that mattered.

--

All Writing Taglist (OPEN): @teageowen @mads---world @alex--awesome--22 @hxdesworld @frozenhuntress67 @samanthasmileys @simonsaysyasss @marvelismylifffe @bademliimagnum @coastalmason @wherewecangazeintothestars

[ursoself-satisfying]

Thank God It’s Christmas

yes!! soft 80′s deaky tho ::”””)))))

John Deacon x F!Reader, NSFW 

A/N: based on some requests!!!! 7.7k words, took me longer than i thought it would yet its still rushed?? kinda wanted to sit on it but i also wanted it out on as close to Christmas as possible so here she is!!! not as fluffy as i originally wanted or intended but i might do a soft sequel idk im not much for sequels but we will seeeeeeee,,,,, also rip my generic ass holiday title,,,,,, so anyway happy boxing day!!!!!!!

Warnings: NSFW, no intercourse just blowjobs at Fred’s house, s w a l l o w i  n g, kinda kinky?? language and commitment, big sub!john here guys sorry,,, theres fluff at the very beginning and BONUS at the end is fluff if u wanna skip to it!!

playlist!!! vvv

 https://open.spotify.com/user/criceloni/playlist/7CoaeajkS0DyoCcJvimPQH?si=CG5La36PQzmLpyLInPlr-Q

Deaky’s foot tapped against the cold tile floor at a rapid pace, twice that of the holiday music echoing through the spacious building. Anxious energy circulated through his veins for no reason he could figure yet. The masses of people around him, strangers mostly, in uncomfortably revealing ensembles pushed against him as he did his best to stand his ground in the entryway of the lavish house. Gilded accents adorned the perimeter of the ceiling, reflected the sparkle of the excessive fairy lights wrapped around every inanimate object within five feet of an electrical outlet. The colors varied from string to string and right then the bassist was standing beside a particularly bright bundle of rainbow bulbs that were strung halfway up the staircase banister. Perhaps it was the blinking and flashing of the decor and the poppers or the loud noises of the party horns and fireworks- He knew that wasn’t what was causing this dry feeling like his blood had turned to sand and he was weighed down where he stood. A tingly sort of feeling encased him in the form of holiday anxiety. It was the emotional tinsel of holiday maladies, properly named as such because of the irritating and hazardous tendencies of it.

John tried to distract himself from his attempted denial of having such an issue by focusing on what he was even there for. The party? Well, that part was for Fred and the rest of the boys. They all came together, having brought their subsequent other halves to enjoy the celebration with them. His other half, however, was late and that sent him into a natural flurry of worry. Why hadn’t she arrived yet? Where was she? Was she ok? Had something happened and he didn’t know? Deaky wasn’t a weak-willed man by any means, nor did he lack confidence, but he did have an excess of love which unfortunately came with a side order of fear. How early in the relationship was too early to say ‘I love you’, he wondered, or perhaps say something more. The first bridge had been overcome probably quicker than it should have. From the moment he saw her, he knew he loved her, he would say, but now it was time to show that. He wanted to solidify this feeling and ask her, after all that she’d done for him, if she’d be willing to spend the rest of their lives together. That’s what he’d been wanting to say to [Y/N] all month but had been putting it off for a special evening together. He’d had one planned, actually, but the party had taken precedence over his private arrangements. No one had meant to throw off his plans, no one had known he’d even had plans. Of course, he couldn’t say no to those shining round eyes as Roger had really insisted the two of them attend. [Y/N]  was all for it, loving the idea of spending the holidays with the boys without considering what kind of parties it was that Freddie threw.

It had started out nice enough, to be quite honest, but of course, every plus one had a plus one and the door was eternally open at the singer’s shiny new home so the “little get together”, as Freddie had so fondly called it, quickly passed capacity. A drag queen emerged from the hall beside John carrying a man in a leotard with a pink glitter beard. He subsequently held an entire bottle of red wine which he graciously poured down the queen’s front. It dripped and stained both of them as the one in the dress stumbled against the doorway with a booming laugh, caught themselves, then continued through the foyer. John had jumped out of the way, aware that they weren’t aware and if he didn’t move himself he would be move. He watched the two continue to trip and stumble through the tight, growing crowds of colorful fabrics and feathers, always somehow managing to stay upright. Quite a feat to be partying, or doing anything really, in studded 12-inch heels, Deaky thought, though he’d seen far stranger things in this house.

A tap on his shoulder caught him off guard and he turned quickly, only to come nose to nose with the exact person he’d been longing for. [Y/N] stumbled back at the man’s sudden spin and surprised look. She laughed loudly at him as she watched his entire face light up at the sight of her. His smile was soft and buttery and the crinkling at the corners of his eyes was like rays of sunlight breaking through the leaves of a snow-covered tree. It took a millisecond for her to take in all his features, soft nose and chin and cheeks framed cushiony lips and a gap-toothed smile that seemed to melt all the cold of the outside off your shivering bones. John disregarded her reverent moment of appreciation, as he was ignorant of it occurring at all, and engulfed the woman in a tight embrace.

She was glowing when he saw her, nose and lips pink and chapped and skin tight from the winter freeze she’d walked through. She sniffled to keep the snot from dripping drown her upper lip and her dry eyes watered from the environment. He thought she looked absolutely beautiful. “I hadn’t even noticed you’d come in,” he said, lips pressed against the side of her stiff face. His fluffy mop of hair filled in the space between their heads as his hands dug into the padded layers of the heavy overcoat she wore. His warm breath was hot and startling on the frigid hairs on the back of [Y/N]’s neck. Her nose was pink and numb from the temperatures beyond the threshold of the mansion, but she could still smell the contrasting remnants of booze and aftershave in her lover’s hair as well as soaked into his holiday sweater. Her arms were stiff by her sides, gloves in one hand and a large canvas bag in the other. Though the heat of his body against hers was a warm relief, the freeze had yet to wash from her. Upon noticing the lack of movement coming from his companion, the excited brunette let go, slipping his palms over her cold fingers instead.

“I’m sorry, John, I didn’t mean to surprise you!” She laughed and pecked a quick kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Hold on and help me with this, would you?” Straight to business, she handed him the oversized bag in her hand. It was painful for her to let go of him, but she did so nevertheless and proceeded to rid herself of the layers of warmth she wore. Beneath the furs and sweaters, her form was revealed and the poor musician beside her nearly dropped the bag he held. Every part of her was stunning and every time she showed himself to her he was just as awestruck as the first time. Every time since then he’s prayed the fit of his jeans would act as a functional restraint for the way she made him feel.

She’d hung her knits and overcoats in the closet beneath the stairs. When she’d opened the closet door, she was welcomed by a face full of sequence and an explosion of dangerous looking leather straps. Carefully, she placed her items near the back where they were least likely to be contaminated y feathers, glitter, or other transferable fabrics. “Feel a bit out of place dressed so smartly,” she started smoothing out the front of her garment, “didn’t know the dress code was Carnivale showgirl otherwise I would have dressed accordingly.” With a small laugh, she turned to John who stood open mouthed and unresponsive. “John?”

A solid pat on the arm should have shaken him from his trance. His eyes had caught hers, twinkling in the festive lights she stood by, all the colors becoming a kaleidoscope over her irises and he lost himself in it. [Y/N] was used to this by now, this dazed look he would have sometimes. She recognized it as one of utter love and didn’t mind the price for such a moment was repeating her side of the conversation. Chuckling, she softly hit him again. The man made a confused noise, like the whine of a puppy, and his lips trembled for a moment before forming a sheepish grin. He cocked his head to the side apologetically. “Sorry, I- I did it again, didn’t I?” His laugh was warm and familiar. “What were saying, love?” His raised brows urged her to continue.

The closet door closed with a quiet clack and [Y/N] went to take her bag from him. “Nothing,- Nothing, just- I look a bit out of place, don’t I?” She leaned close to him as she said this, scrunching up her nose and smiling as she observed the loitering guests who passed through the halls around them, every item they wore caught the light in blinding ways.

John looked back at his partner and bit his bottom lip with an amused smile, “I think you look lovely.”

[Y/N] tore her attention from the gentleman strolling past them, clad completely, completely, in leather with only a hole where his mouth should be. The sweet face beside her was a stark contrast to her surroundings and she melted a little upon meeting his eyes which never strayed from her, regardless of what may have been hovering around them. “You always say that.”

She breathed a thankful sigh and Deaky eagerly responded, “Well, that’s because it’s always true. You do always look lovely.” She shot him a sly grin, eyes squinted playfully as she shook her head at him.

[Y/N] shyly turned her gaze to the floor, “John-” A burst of noise shook them both, which was saying something for how loud and busy the party already was. A gaggle of girls, quite obviously drunk and giggling, all clad in jockey uniforms, moved through the halls in a huddle. They carried an array of mismatched sporting equipment above their heads and at the end of each one was tied a bough of holly and mistletoe.

“It’s the holly brigade!” One of the guests announced and all the girls cheered and laughed at their name being called.

“No, no! I thought we were the mistletoe militia!” A member of the group shouted.

“The December draft!” Another called out. The rest of the assembled group groaned at the name, little spouts of ‘That’s the worst one yet!’ and ‘Not this again!’ were heard. “Oh, kiss my smooth fuckin’ ass, Bernice!”

“Fuck you, Priscilla! Maybe I will! Maybe that’s what I’m here to do, Goddamnit!”

The quiet couple turned to each and blinked, not surprised but still amused. Apparently, one of the gaggle had sniffed out the two of them and made it their mission to change their position. “Looks like we have some victims!” A redhead exclaimed, moving her hockey stick above John’s head, the festive garnishes hanging from it dangling in front of his nose and swaying often to hit him in the face. He swatted at them defeatedly with a weak smile. The crowds around them cheered at the earlier announcement and began to chant, ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ John was red in the face, no, deeper than just red. He was the same color as the beetroots Freddie would send them from his garden. The man quickly scanned the crowds, a shaky breath leaving his lips. His fingers walked up his neck to fiddle with his ear, something he subconsciously did when he was flustered. [Y/N] smiled at the gesture, seeing it out of the corner of her eye.

The entire population of the small room focused on the pair of them. The weight of expectation and anticipation mixed to form a bittersweet scent rolling over them. Noses nearly touching now, sharing breaths, [Y/N] leaned in close to her lover, staring into his soft eyes with half hooded ones of her own. “What do you say, John? Give the people what they want?” After a hesitant nod and a shy, but mischievous smile from him, [Y/N] pushed against him eagerly. The audience roared and laughed, whoops and hollers not enough to break the two of you apart. A female voice above the loud whistles and commanded the team of matchmakers to move on.

Lost in each other, John held his girl by her arms, squeezing her tightly. Her still purple fingernails dug into his shoulders as their lips moved in sync. Not that the collision had started at all chaste, but by now it was most certainly the opposite. He tasted like fruity champagne and something salty, she thought, hands snaking up the back of his neck. She could picture him before she’d arrived, securing a place by the snack table, claiming the cheese and crackers she tasted now. Their tongues intertwined sloppily and they rocked back and forth with the pull and push of their want for one another. His large hands cradled her head and kept them together, her hair falling over his long fingers like waves of light.

The heavy sack she carried on her shoulder slipped to her elbow and ripped them apart. “Oh-!” Catching her sides, John laughed. “Sorry-! Sorry,” She chuckled, pulling her ominously full bag up back up her arm. Dragging the back of her hand across her mouth, she cleaned the shared saliva off her face then reached forward to wipe the corners of her partner’s mouth. God, he was cute when he was flustered. His chest rose and fell quickly, blush not fading. His gaze fell down her body. She followed suit and took in his whole form, aware of the subtle bulge below his waistline.

His swollen lips parted and he began to speak quietly, “You’re-”

“You’re too much for me, John Richard Deacon.” She interrupted with a wink. The man mentioned laughed cautiously and pulled away as his cheek was pinched by his pucker lipped lover. “Why don’t you take us to the boys then, hm?” She re-adjusted her bulging bag on her shoulder, looking petite in comparison to it. It reminded John of a child on their first day of school, packs full of far more supplies than they need.

He glanced through the doorway leading to the moonlit foyer, overwhelmed with characters. Somewhere through there, he knew, was the rest of the band. Did he really want to risk the trip? Venture into the great party beyond? “They’re, well,” he nodded towards the most crowded room, “last I knew, they were somewhere in there.”

“Oh,” [Y/N] paused a moment, then straightened up and took a deep breath, inhaling her courage. She looked to her companion and nodded firmly. “If we don’t make it out,” her hand drifted to stroke John’s lost face dramatically, “tell the kids I love them.” A stoic expression stared back at the man before he broke and laughed, rolling his eyes.

“You think I’d let anything happen you?” He cooed, faux offense filtered through the phrase. He pressed a barely tangible kiss to her cheek before taking her hand from his face and lacing his fingers between his instead. “Come on then, Miss Desmond,” with a laugh, he pulled her behind him and they entered the Coliseum.

Though she’d been giggling just seconds before, the mood was irrevocably shifted to something much more chaotic and disruptive as soon as they crossed the threshold from the entryway to the rest of the house. Not to say the mood was darker, because the bright colors and happy faces around them would deny any sadness ever existed there, but the air was heavier. Maybe it was the influx of bodies, making it noticeably warmer around them, or perhaps it was the “party favors” that the guests had brought themselves.

Streamers, though nicely strung at one point, now looked haphazardly flung about the chandelier and rafters. Against the white of the ceiling and walls, the streamers looked almost like the northern lights, all pastel and waving in the wind of the tall open windows. Freddie always did have good tastes, though lavish, [Y/N] thought as the couple squeezed between the grand piano, suffocated in fairy lights and hard to look at, and a large man in a wrestler’s costume. It smelled awfully of alcohol and sweat. By the end of the night, she was sure she would reek of salt and sickly sweet candies. Clinging tightly to the full bag at her side, the girl was jostled around unceremoniously as the crowd bounced to the beat of whatever pop song blared through the speakers.

John looked back over his shoulder at his tail when his hand got a violent squeeze. He was greeted by an accompanying look of terror, cradling her luggage in front of her. Her wide eyes bore into his and, though her discomfort was nothing to laugh at, her wide, thin-lipped, teeth-baring grimace was. The curly haired man couldn't help but smile, full of sympathy for her state. He turned again to face forward as he foraged through the forest of party goers and hopped a few times to gain some sense of direction. When they’d entered, he’d spotted the cluster of chairs and pillows he’d been lounging on earlier and headed that way. There was no counting on the boys to still be there, but he had no other guesses. Glancing back again, he decided his friend needed a break from the journey and pulled off from the mass of bodies, heading up the stairs to the significantly emptier second floor.

Nearly tripping over the first step, [Y/N] rushed up the carpeted stairs behind her boyfriend to the secondary location. There was a couple midway through a hot make-out session in one corner and another very obviously feeling each other up leaning against the banister. The two took refuge in the small hall leading to the bathroom. The party thumped beneath them, physically able to feel the celebration shaking up through the floor. [Y/N] took one last look back at the chaos they’d just left, grateful to have done so. In the pause, she finally let the tension roll off her and she dropped her tote bag at her feet. “Thanks for getting me out,” she started, a bit out of breath. “So, are they up here, do you think?” Turning back to John, she raised her eyebrows in doubt. “John!”

The bassist snapped his head to face the voice calling him, a deep blush spreading from his nose to his ears. Knowing he’d turned from where the 2 men pressed firmly against each, so much so they nearly toppled over the second story railing, [Y/N] didn’t say anything. Judging from his face and a speedy glance at his pants, she could reasonably assume he was a little bit, how to say, frustrated. “Sorry, what-”

“Nothing,” she said softly, assuring without outright saying that it was ok and he didn’t need to be embarrassed. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Their days together were often interrupted by an impatient or emotional Deaky, crimson-faced and needy. He never said anything, his lover was always the on to initiate it when she could tell it was necessary. Poor boy would suffer through it if she wasn’t with such an observant partner. She stepped to the side and looked around the corners. After scanning their surroundings, concluding there were approximately 5 couples engaging in varying activities upstairs (2 in the halls, 2 in the bedrooms, and 1 in the bathroom), she came to the conclusion that then might be an opportune time to help out little Deaky. “Hey, babe,” she started carefully, “Would you maybe wanna duck into this room here?” She nodded at the door they’d been parked in front of in the small hall. “We got lucky, there are no lewd noises coming from this one.”

While his lover wiggled her eyebrows at him, John adjusted his pants and grimaced. Few words had been spoken since they’d changed locations. “Are you sure?” He knew exactly what she was doing. She always did this, she took care of him. He regretted how guilty he felt whenever these situations occurred and she was the one with the initiative to resolve it. God, he couldn’t help that every time he looked at her he was just overcome with want. She had that effect on men or, well, maybe just him, he hoped. It was just the way she stood and carried herself, the way she moved with such grace and promise. He’d seen her far too many times in far too many intimate ways to not have fallen completely in love with every breath she took. Her voice alone drove him mad and she took full advantage of that when she wanted to.

Too often though she didn’t have to do anything for him to get excited. This occasionally caused problems for them, particularly in instances much like the one they were in just then. The two of them would be making small talk, at a party or, or just hanging out with the boys but it would be a social time and an inconvenient one for them to slip away. [Y/N] always noticed, though, as, though the boy was ignorant of it, she never took her eyes off him just as he never did her. His discomfort was like a searchlight for her, obvious and urgent. Too polite to say anything in public and too afraid of messing it up, John never excused himself. [Y/N] always seemed to know how to handle it, though the rest of the band would usually figure out why they’d run off anyway.

There were no friends or guests up here to trick and an empty room right in front of them. It was easy and convenient, “And the boys aren’t looking for us, are they?” [Y/N] cocked her head in question, convincing her other half to take this time to let off some steam. “I want a moment with you,” she spoke in a lower voice now, pulling him towards her by hooking her fingers in the waist of his skin-tight jeans. Their chests collided and John caught himself on her shoulder. Gripping her upper arms tightly, he suppressed a groan, the strain against his erection becoming too much. Her voice, her movement, her command- He was weak, but only for her.

Inches separating them, the brunette leaned forward and was blessed with her scent, that of a garden after a heavy rain, cinnamon sticks, and the familiar backseat of a London cab. “I suppose there’s no harm,” he replied with a sly smile, breathing a soft laugh on her cheek. For a few seconds, he had the opportunity to revel in her presence and in his fragile state it almost pushed him over the edge. Distracted, he stumbled forwards after the woman when she pushed back at the door behind her, slipping in when it swung open. They disconnected as she shut the door after the musician. This gave them a chance to examine the room of their chosen connection.

It looked like Fred’s room to them. The walls were littered with framed photos of the singer himself and old Hollywood actresses. A heart-shaped vanity made [Y/N] laugh but the real giveaway was the king-sized canopy bed in the center of the room. Fur throws covered the upper half of the mattress and the colors of the entire room were coordinated reds and pinks. Romantic, she thought, and very Freddie. “Deaky, take note, I want my life to look like this room.” Heading straight for the lavish looking bed, [Y/N] swept away the sheer curtains surrounding it and dramatically fell onto the plush covers. They engulfed her and she was lost in this sea of rose-colored satins, curling like a cat and twisting through the sheets with purrs and mewls to accompany her graceful stretching.

As the only other person in the room, Deaky was there to witness it all. His attention strayed from the florally patterned trinket he examined on the dresser. She was glowing, shining through the sheer folds hanging from the canopy obstructing his view. True to theme, the way she curled and twisted on the bed reminded John of the same stars hung on the walls. She’d look perfectly fit in a black and white melodrama. He imagined her sprawled across the bed in shadows, donning a silk slip, lace trim slowly sliding up her thigh as she turned, straps falling from her shoulders as she moved- Deaky was suddenly very uncomfortable. His focus locked on the woman on the mattress and his feet took him quickly to stand over her, intention weighing down his every footstep.

Laughing to herself quietly as she buried her face in the velvet throw pillow beside her, [Y/N] didn’t notice the arrival of her lover now planted between her dangling knees. “I’m not sure how entirely appropriate it is to be, uh,” he paused to laugh a bit but as she turned to face him, now aware of his presence and position standing between her legs- His breath hitched. He regretted using the word ‘glowing’ to describe what she was, it simply wasn’t enough. It was like watching a miracle happening before him every time that sultry filter shone across her face. Darkened irises peaking through long, low lashes as she licked her plump lips waiting for him to continue, it all drove him crazy. “How appropriate,” he tried again to get his thought out in broken words, “to be, uh, fucking- fucking on the host’s bed.”

[Y/N] sat up slowly arching her back and pulling her shoulders back in a stretch, her hands making electric contact with the thighs in front of her. She swore she could almost hear the buzzing of the sudden energy surging between the two of them. Her fingertips squeezed his leg, nails digging in lightly to the denim holding him together. A shuddering breath fell from his lips upon the shoulders of the woman below him and it washed over her. She was baptized by his sound crowning her, filling her with the final drops of motivation she needed, knowing this feeling of accomplishment from making him lose control of his basic instincts like this would be rewarded to her tenfold after their rendezvous. The pads of her slim fingers traipsed up the front of his legs and caught the hem of his tight Christmas coverall, tugging on it for his attention, then letting the same clingy digits hook into the belt loops around his waist to yank him closer.

John was hypnotized by the beauty that belonged to the powerhouse before him, lost in the maze of a hazy halo that seemed to always be floating around her. He was pulled from the dreamy vision by a tug on his shirt and his hips being pulled forward. The heat of his lover’s gaze when he lowered his eyes to meet hers bore through him and he could feel his face burning, even more, somehow he was sure he was turning even redder. Her face was level to his crotch and slowly she leaned to press her cheek to it. The obvious bulge was warm and sensitive through the garment as she put her face to it.

Images of her raced through John’s mind when she did this and they were enough to make a whore blush. Some were memories from past coitus, some fantasies he’d been too ashamed to share, but all were absolutely irreverent. One of her with her lips locked around the base of his cock, she was kneeling on a bed much like she was at the present. Her eyes were low and full of lust, dilated pupils making them shades darker than usual. Her makeup was smeared, lipstick was strewn halfway across her cheek and her mascara leaking down her face as black tinted tears rolled down the sides of her face. Her brows were upturned tiredly, past her first orgasm and nearing her second. Her nose was pink and soft, hitting against his pubic hair every time he was hilted in her mouth. He was practically there, feeling the tightness of being deep in her throat, hot and wet and so pleasurable. In the back of his memory, he could hear her muffled gags, feel them vibrating around his cock, sending ripples of ecstasy through him until he came. Her eyes would roll back and the gurgling guttural noise that came from the depth of her stomach as thick ropes of cum flooded her passage. Neck thick with his length, she was overwhelmed, eyes rolling back white, breathing quickening. She had been face fucked within an inch of her life and he had loved every second of it. Her reactions could put him over without effort- her looks, her sounds, every way she felt when she was convulsing around him, milking him for all he was worth.

A cutting snap echoed through the room as [Y/N] had pulled back the elastic hem of his underwear and let it hit the skin across his hip bones. It broke John from the fantasy he’d fallen into. The sting of the snap hung on the red line it left behind. When he finally got over the shock of it, his eyes met [Y/N]’s. She wore a  bemused smile cocked her head with a laugh. “Where’d you go there, rocketman?” At this point, she’d undone his pants and began slipping them down his legs. Slowly, her hands caressed the exposed skin, starting at the slivers shown at the tops of his thighs.

As soon as the jean had inched past the end of his length, his arousal was set loose and sprung upward. The stretchy fabric of his of his undergarment of choice wasn’t nearly enough to hold him in position. His erection strained against the cotton he wore, only stopping it from hitting his stomach and instead having it curve outward. The girl was eye level with the outlet of his want. It was throbbing and stuck straight out, aimed at her, darker at the tip, wet because of his leaking pre-cum. She licked her lips at the appetizing sight and all her lips were wet, dripping in excitement for the feast she faced.

“I, um,” he was going to explain, though reluctantly, where his mind had wandered but was interrupted by his grateful release. A wavering moan played like music to his lover’s ears. Relief engulfed him, he thought, but then realized it was simply the absence of pain and now he was left with undefined arousal and need. A pinch on the bottom of his buttcheek reminded him to continue his story, but when he tried to speak, it wasn’t words that came out.

‘Squeak’ is the best word to describe the sound he made. [Y/N] responded with a pleased squeak of her own and, now that his lover torso was sufficiently accessible, went on to slip her fingers between the fabric and the soft skin at his hips. She didn’t mind the tighty-whiteys to be quite honest. It fit his personality.

“What were you saying, love?” Sparkling eyes searched for his as eager fingers hooked through the legs of his last cover, pulling them slowly down. The waistband slid down his shaft and pushed it down until it was catapulted by the final slip of grey elastic. The slap was quiet and muffled as his slick head collided with the rough knit of his seasonal wear. [Y/N] bit her lip at the reveal and looked up at the even more relieved Deaky. Anticipation spread across his features as he waited to be touched, forgetting what she’d just asked him. She’d completely forgotten as well, dismissing it for the option of palming at the sensitive skin of the cock grandly standing before her, feeling the pulse of his love on the patterns of her hands.

“Oh,” John did his best to taper his breathing from the heavy gasps moments before, “please, please, [Y/N]-” The hand slid up his dick and when it came down, his erection was wrapped in hot digits. Playing down his erect length like scaled on a piano, she rubbed, bringing down the clear stick from his head to lubricate him. She squeezed an unseemly grunt from him and he had to lean against the bedpost to stay upright. His knuckles turned white from the desperate grip he held on the dark wooden pole, the pole of his own finally touched. [Y/N] shifted as her man’s knees fell against the tall mattress, picking up the pace with her hand, then adding another.

“Do you want me to use my mouth?” She nodded and spoke delicately. She held one hand at the base of his cock, threading her fingers through the forest above his manhood and using her thumb to stroke the start of his balls. Deaky’s eyes drifted to her falsely innocent face, struggling with forming a comprehensive answer. His mouth hung open with unspoken want and he swallowed his words before he could throw them back up in the form of a weak gurgle that translated to ‘yes’. “Ok, sweetie, because you asked.” Bittersweet tones flew to his ears while a sudden wet warmth dripped down from the tip of his shaft.

Soft lips enveloped his head and it continued down. Her tongue swirled around the end of his length, rough texture tasting all the sweet excitement Deaky couldn’t hold back. Two hot intakes of breath was all the girl could hear as she took more and more of his erection in her mouth. She was suctioned to his fifth appendage and felt every ripple that made up the skin around his muscle. He could feel her tongue tracing every pulsing vein and he hit the back of her throat, sporadically thrusting into the hot, slick cavern of her mouth. By now his hand had reached to the back of her head and pushed into her, a fistful of her hair knotted in his hand. The bunch he held acted as a rein when he face fucked his lover with increasing need.

[Y/N] ground down into the mattress she sunk into, pushing for her soaking pussy to get some minimum contact. Her hips rolled and pressed down as best she could, sure she was wetting the bed with how aroused she was. One had was gripping Deaky’s bare ass and the other followed her spit covered lips at a quickened bouncing pace. Every time she felt the back of her throat hit the tip of his cock, lips sucking at his base, nose tickled by pubes and teeth barely brushing his blood vessels. She got nostrils full of his scent, musky and hot, like the first hot day after a rain in the city. He hilted himself in her and gasped so grossly and desperately, she was sure it could be heard outside the room.

When John looked down, it was too much like his fantasy. “God, fuck- please,” he begged, “swallow.” Her pleading, glistening eyes narrowed and the wave of pressure that rolled down his shaft from her tightening tongue brought him to the edge. Curses and dirty, profane things spilled out from his normally clean lips, seeping through the cage of his teeth in an eye-rolling ecstasy. The flood of sounds that drove through [Y/N]’s ears brought her an accomplished feeling until the stream of hot white love filled her cavity. She grunted through her filling mouth, pushing down the thick liquid from her lover. She gulped it down gutturally, hot wave running down her chest as it traveled. Her hands were tightly holding to his sides, hiking up the thick sweater still handing off his thin form.

Like an hourglass filling with sand, Deaky felt pin like tingles roll through him from his toes to his head as he came. A shiver ran down his spine and every muscle from his softening erection out tensed. He twitched in the wet velvet sleeve of his girlfriend’s throat. Knowing that every spurt shot down the tunnels and to her stomach got him off even more. It was disgusting from a blatant perspective, but fuck, it was so hot. She took it all from him so willingly after his ask. The stills of his best memories sped across his mind and it nearly perfectly matched his view with her hair pulled back in his balled hand and longs long, shining from smeared excitement left across her face. Nothing could make the situation less arousing but there came a point when he had nothing left to give.

Lips ‘o’ shaped and eyes shut, to [Y/N] he was a vision of pure beauty. His hair floated above him in a soft halo and he was angelic. No light shone off him, no reflection of holy images resembled his position, but he was still an angel. His release had come quick but it was no surprise to his partner. Downing the last of his salty high, [Y/N] continued to move and milk his dick for the last of his cum, final drop on her tongue mixing with her swishing spit and following suit as she swallowed one last time. Her mouth popped off his end and she wiped away the mess around the orifice with her sleeve, immediately regretting doing so afterward. Deaky hovered above her, breathing heavily, unevenly. She could almost see the hot puffs leaving his mouth like a little dragon, the cold of the season not entirely being kept out of the home but the both of them too hot and bothered to notice. Her own breathing was strangled and could be heard through the room.

A rush of feeling finally returned to the man standing and he lowered his gaze to meet that of his partner’s. She smirked at first, but it quickly turned to a tired laugh as she moved to attempt to fix her unseemly hair. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He gingerly tucked his limp extension back into his stretched underwear and sat down limply beside her, not bothering to pull up his tight pants at all. [Y/N] placed a cold, damp hand on his hot thigh. They turned to each other and smiled softly. Her free hand went to cradle the side of his face and press her lips against his, pulling him to her. They remained connected while she lifted herself from her kneel and scooted closer to him. One hand slid up his thigh while they beat their lips against one another in sync. It took all her self control not to encourage the growing ache echoing from her core as she pushed hard against the man beside her. She tasted like hot skin, like sweat and salt and underneath were subtle hints of holiday chocolates and candied apples, but overall, she tasted like him. He could feel himself on her lips and he pulled away. She looked dazed and a bit disappointed at the sudden lack of contact. “I don’t think it’s the best idea to get this started again,” he said, though his eyes hung on her parted, swollen lips, “not here or really right now-” He saw the way her thighs clenched when her squeezed his slender fingers around her forearm. His neglect drove guilt through his bones and he tilted his head slightly with a softened look. “I’m so sorry, love-” It was more than a whisper, but only barely rising above the low level when she kissed him again.

This time it was softer still. Her lips on his, curled in a forgiving smile and warm but only for a moment. “It’s Christmas, Johnny, a time for giving,” she spoke quietly against his lips.

“No, it’s not, I wanted to ask you something tonight- It was supposed to be about you- I had plans-” He stuttered.

“Save them.” In her eyes, he could see some knowing shine, some reflection of himself to calm him down from his rising worry. She broke the eye contact with a sideways glance and continued with a sweet smile. “Anyway, I’m flattered it takes so little to get you up for me,” her hand ghosted over crotch before retracting and smoothing over the tops of her legs, “but sometimes, to be honest, I think it’s more the tightness of your jeans than it is me that gets you so-” Pausing to stand, she continued, “eager.” With a wink, she extended a hand to help the bassist up off the deeply plush bed. He smiled back sheepishly and accepted her assistance, struggling to pull himself up. Once he did, though, he waddled a step forward then pulled the very fitted pants back up, making himself decent again.

[Y/N] started a leisurely walk back to the door, signaling John to follow. He did so and they shared the same thought, embracing one another in open arms. [Y/N] hummed against the heavily festive knit shoulder of her lover. “So, do you think we should go find the boys now? I brought gifts and I’d like ‘em to see them before they pass out or are drunk beyond belief.” She breathed a laugh and her hot breath his John’s ear. He shivered then pulled back with a laugh.

“Is that what’s in that great, hulking bag of yours?”

“Well, what else? I’ll get it and we can-” She reached for the door and swung it open, only to find an empty space where her sack had once been. Deaky thought he could feel the air chill upon the woman’s realization. “MY FUCKING GIFTS-”

Somewhere in that mansion at that very moment, there was a group very drunk, very loud girls with very persuasive sports gear wandering around and delivering presents to every physically engaging couple they could find, starting by handing a signed Cheap Trick album to an incoherent drag queen nursing an oversized martini. There was now a who man wore a new sweater covered in cats and a woman had a coordinated set of sunglasses all on at the same time, meaning 6 pairs lined up on top of one another, wandering around as well. With a distant crash, a very nice custom pair of clogs was thrown through a high window and oblivious to this all was a couple, upstairs, in the host’s bedroom.

BONUS:

The light shining through the open window woke the woman up first, but the sleep was shaken from her when she reached out for another warm body to comfort her shivering one. The thin sheets were not enough to block out the cold over her nakedness. Rolling over with a grumble, she looked at the clock. 10 A.M. on December 26th. Christmas was over and everyone was better off for it. So what if no one had gotten any gifts intended for them? They’d had each other last night and that was more than enough for her, though the sting of losing her work still hung on her ego. She tried not to think about it. Instead, she sat up and scanned the room for her boyfriend, upset by his absence. Then from around the corner, he came, clad only in fresh boxers and contrastingly the same soiled sweater from the night before. He was blurry n her sleep crowded vision and she questioned him as she rubbed her eyes. “Deaky, baby, what have you got there?” Her words trailed off into a yawn and she stretched, eyes closed, though she could feel the mattress shift under her lover’s applied weight.

“What I wanted to ask you- Well, what I mean to say- What I wanted to ask you about last night- Oh, well,” he laughed softly, sounding like he’d only just woken up as well. The woman in bed blinked slowly at him and leaned her body towards his heat, hands finding his arm. The man watched her lovingly, starry-eyed, fingers fiddling with his ear. He took one smaller hand in his large ones and placed a cold circle to her palm. “This isn’t really how I wanted to do it, but then I thought it didn’t matter how I did it- I realized I just needed to get it done.” Slowly, the same realization washed over her face and she stared at the shining round object in her hand, suddenly very awake. “I had planned to do it last night, but, well,” he chuckled and his gaze fell shyly for a moment before he was back to intently observing his lover’s reactions, “it was a bit crazy and things got in the way and I just wanted to say-”

Tears welled in the girl’s eyes, pulling them away from the modest diamond ring that sat cold in her cradled hands. When he looked at her, tears came flooding to his eyes, too. He laughed through the rolling drops, wiping them away quickly and smiling wide with crinkling eyes. “I love you, [Y/N] hopefully Deacon,” he enunciated the future name, “and I would be-” Chocking on a sob, he continued, “Would you please do me the grand pleasure of becoming my wife?”

Large dollops of tears fell freely from both sets of eyes now and wet sobs filled the room. She laughed lightly and nodded, hesitantly at first then eagerly. “Yes, yes!” A guffaw escaped her and her future husband snorted in response. They were both laughing now, crying and laughing sitting on their bed in the late morning, Boxing Day. From the outside, it may have seemed like an odd or even uncomfortable scene, but then they threw their arms around each other, no need to communicate with any verbal expression. They knew one another inside and out, maybe more than they knew themselves. She melted into him and held his curly hair close to her. She breathed hotly and sniffled. “This is a wonderful Christmas-”

“It’s Boxing Day, darling,” he whispered with a gentle laugh.

“I love you so much, John Deacon.”

[ace-alex-art]

Thomas is a prick

I'm terrible with titles. Anyway this took way too long because Parker and I get distracted easily. It's a rollercoaster.

Also theres some really strong language from Thomas in the first half that is derogatory towards women. Please be careful when reading.

-------

Michael keeps his body small as he lays curled on the floor. His shattered rib cage is burning, and every breath like inhaling shards of glass. His eyes are squeezed shut as he tries to wait out the pain. “P-please… Father…”

A harsh kick to his abdomen leaves the boy gasping. “Stand up.” He demands with another swift kick to Michael’s stomach. “This is all your fault! You pathetic little bitch! So stand up and fight!” The booming voice shakes the room.

Michael knows he can’t fight back. He’s learned the hard way that fighting back and defending himself always leads to more pain, but his head is spinning. His Father’s voice is too loud, and he just wants it all to stop. So slowly he gets back on his unsteady feet.

A strong punch to Michael’s face sends him sprawling onto the floor again, sufficiently erasing all the work it took for him to stand in the first place. Thomas stomps his foot onto Michael’s thigh and tears a hoarse cry from the boy. “Are you fucking deaf? I said stand back up!”

The boy whimpers and wipes his bleeding nose with his arm before forcing himself up again. He was always forced to not defend himself. Always hurt more when he did so, but if his Father truly wants him to fight back then why not? He's going to be beat anyway, so he might as well try to defend himself.

An arm reaches for his collar, and he ducks before maneuvering behind him. That wasn't what Thomas wanted apparently as he lunges at the broken boy and slams him into the wall. “You worthless piece of shit! I said fight back!” He slams Michael back into the wall again before punching the boy in the stomach sufficiently doubling the kid over. “Go on, hit me back!” The overwhelming stench of whiskey on his breath.

Michael doesn't know what else to do, so he plays the roll his Father wants. Hoping it will end soon if he plays along, Michael weakly punches Thomas's chest.

“Good girl.” He drunkenly praises before grabbing his arm and flinging him into the other wall.

I'm not a girl! Michael's thoughts scream. He knows he's going to lose this rigged fight, but he doesn't care at the moment. Michael moves to rush one way but quickly switches to the other side, and he plows into Thomas's side, knocking him into the wall.

That was not the right answer as his large hand clamps around Michael's throat and pins him to the wall. Holding Michael up by his throat, the drunkard leans close to his face. “I could fucking kill you right now, you know that?” He growls. The boy held off the ground; his toes barely dragging against the floor. Thomas pulls Michael forward before slamming him back into the wall again with intense force. “You ungrateful little bitch! You deserve this, girly. Go on, princess. Say it!” His grip on Michael's throat just loose enough for the boy to get a few words out.

“I...I de...serve it…” Michael weakly chokes out. Spots already beginning to dance in his blurry vision. “I de...serve it…”

“Fucking whore. We do so much for you and this is how you repay us?” He spits, clearly too inebriated to remember that he told Michael to fight back.

“...n-no… Sir… I-" The hand around Michael's throat squeezes hard as it cuts off his oxygen, making him slightly kick his legs as panicked eyes pleaded with his Father.

“I'm going to break your jaw if you keep fucking talking! Do you understand?” A minute nod as Michael fights to stay awake when his vision is being surrounded by darkness. “Get your shit and get the fuck out of my sight!” He booms as he throws Michael onto the ground. “Anyone fucking says anything, tell them your clumsy ass fell, do you understand me!”

Hes wheezing and trembling as he tries to regain control of his limbs. Grabbing his tattered backpack and racing out of the house before his Father could change his mind. His entire body screamed in protest, but he wanted to get as far away as he could. Adrenaline coursing through the boy allowed him to run until he got to the Sheriff's Secret Police Auction House before finally needing to stop. He slumped against the building when he finally began to feel all the pain in his body. Freezing when he looked back at where he had ran from and seeing bloody footprints.

Michael looked down to see a small puddle around his left foot. Cautiously using the wall for support, he lifted his leg to inspect his foot. The streetlight above him showed off the semi deep cuts on the bottom of his foot, and something shone in the light. Gingerly, Michael touched it. Piece of broken glass. He didn't have time to grab shoes when given the chance to flee, and he had ran through broken glass without realizing. The boy's hand shakes, but he manages to pull out the shard, cutting his foot more as it was removed.

Everything hurt, but he couldn't just stop here. He has to get farther away. His foggy mind told him to get to the dog park. Nobody goes to the dog park, so he would be able to rest outside the fence. It feels like another hour had passed in the time it took the boy to limp from the auction house to the dog park. As soon as he felt hidden enough, Michael slumped to the ground crying.

At some point the boy ran out of energy to keep crying. His entire body was aflame, and his throat hurt too much to continue to sob. His Father was always careful not to injure him where others could easily see, but he knew a black eye was forming already. There would be a prominent hand print around his throat by sunrise. How would he get anyone to believe he fell and got that?

Michael digs through his mainly empty bag when finds his phone. Carlos gave it to him since his old one was stolen. He said it was a gift. A “welcome to the family” gift. Michael smiles slightly. That was the day they made snow and decided they would prank Cecil and nearly give him a heart attack.

He only had a few numbers: the station, the lab, Mika's cell, Ainsel's phone, Cecil's, and Carlos's. He couldn't call Cecil. He would freak out. Mika would start a fight with his Father, and Ainsel would likely cry at the state he is in. Michael squeezes his eyes shut as he swallows hard. Carlos is going to be so mad for waking him up, but he didn't know what else to do.

Ring. Ring.

“P-please… please answer…”

Ring. Ring.

“I know you’ll be mad… it’s too early… but please pick up…”

Ring. Rin-

Carlos jerks upright as his phone goes off. Who would be calling at this time of night? Rubbing his face with a groan, he feels around the nightstand for his glasses. He gets up carefully as to not wake Cecil, who, as soon as Carlos got up, turned over and spread across the mattress.

Crossing the room, Carlos picks his phone up off the dresser, not bothering to check caller ID.

“Mm...Hello?” He asks with a yawn.

“Papa?” Michael shakily whispers. He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t have anywhere else to go. Yeah, they gave him keys to their home, but what if they didn’t really want him there right now? Who wants a kid showing up at their door at 2am?

Carlos was suddenly wide awake as his blood ran cold. “Michael?” He asks, stepping out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Carlos wasn’t sure what worried him more; the fact that Michael was calling at two in the morning or the sound of the child’s voice. “Do I need to come get you?”

I woke him up. He’s gonna be mad at me. “m-m sorry… didn’t… I-I didn’t wanna wake you…” His voice hoarse from the lack of oxygen he endured and laced with fear. “P-please? I-I dunno if I can walk anymore… m at the dog park…”

Carlos takes a breath. “Don’t apologize. Hey, deep breaths. You’re going to hyperventilate. I’m on my way and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes okay?” He makes his way to the living room to look for his shoes. “What happened?”

Michael closes his eyes and tries to listen to Carlos, focusing on breathing around all the pain he feels. “I…I upset Father… and I fell...” It’s not a complete lie. He did fall, multiple times, actually, but he knew the scientist wouldn’t completely believe that answer. It was what his Father told him to say.

Maybe he could lie or hold back details over the phone, but Carlos would know otherwise when he sees the boy. A black eye from falling is somewhat believable, but the handprint around his throat? The huge bruise that will be prominent on his thigh? The fresh bruises on his stomach and already bashed in ribs? There’s no way the scientist would believe that. He isn’t an idiot after all. But for now he has fifteen minutes to come up with a better cover story, or at least a way to explain what happened without worrying him.

Carlos could feel his heart ache. “When did this happen? Were you followed?” He asks, pulling his shoes on and stopping at the table next to the door to grab his keys. He steps out and locks the door before starting down the walk. “Thank you for calling me Michael.” He stops and waves at the Sheriff's Secret Policeman hiding in the bush under the living room window. “How bad are you hurt?” He makes one last stop at the truck and takes out the first aid kit.

Michael keeps his eyes closed as he listens to the sounds of Night Vale in the early morning. “Hour ago? No… I dunno… maybe an hour and a half since I left? So maybe less than two hours ago?” He tries to think. He doesn’t have a watch that works. The one he has from before they moved had a dead battery. “I don’t think so… I didn’t know I was leaving footprints until I got to the auction house. I didn’t feel the glass in my foot… but he was really drunk and wanted me gone, so I don’t think he followed me…” Michael coughs a little before whimpering at the pain. “ll survive… not much worse than usual.” he admits. “But it was a bad fall… I, um, I got caught on the door knob, so I, uh, I might have a black eye… y'know m clumsy with my ankle and stuff…” he knew the lie was horrible, but he had to be careful with what he said in public in case someone was listening. He didn’t want to get in trouble after all.

Carlos tucks the plastic box under his arm and starts down the sidewalk. "Okay. Keep talking so I know you haven't passed out." With every word from Michael's mouth, Carlos's stomach twisted in more knots. Maybe he should take Michael's mind off the pain. But how?

He tries to stretch his back slightly and ends up whimpering. “Wouldn't be the first time… nobody really comes out to the dog park in the early morning…” Michael gingerly brings his hand to touch where the bruises on his neck are already beginning to form. There's no way he can hide that. “m sorry for waking you up…” his voice soft and remorseful.

"Its okay. I rather you call me than stay out all night. You take first priority always."

Michael feels himself being watched and tenses. However when realizing it's just a hooded figure, he relaxes. Hes spent numerous nights out here, and they haven't hurt him yet. “It's not all night… and I shouldn't…” he mumbles. “m sorry”

"Hey. You are always more important. Always. You can call me anytime." Carlos reminds him, rounding the corner. "No matter what."

Michael carefully shakes his head despite knowing Carlos cant see him. He doesn't have the energy to disagree with the scientist. “I-I didn't mean to fall… I tried… m sorry…”

"I know." Carlos says softly. "I know you did." He looks down the way a little and sees the park. "I'm almost there."

Eyes closed as he replays what happened. He didn't know what his Father wanted from him, but clearly he gave the wrong answers. Wind blows through him as he sits curled into himself on the ground. “m sorry…”

"It was not your fault Michael. I promise you that." He's closer to the park now and begins looking for Michael. "I'm here now."

He shakes his head and sniffles. “It's always my fault.”

Michael hears Carlos before he sees his hero. Whimpering as he forces himself to stand and stumble in the direction of the noise, the world beneath him swaying.

Carlos walks a little further before stopping and looking around. "I see you. I'm coming."

He hangs up the call and breaks into a sprint towards Michael's limping form. He comes to a halt, dropping the plastic box and gently hugging Michael close. "I'm so sorry.."

His abused body gives out causing him to slump into Carlos and cry out in pain. Weakly hugging the scientist and using him to stay standing. “m-m sorry…” he brokenly hiccups. “m s-sorry…” Michael buries his face into Carlos's chest to hide his forming black eye and bruising throat.

"How about we get you home so I can get you cleaned up?" Carlos says softly. He takes a slight step back but isn't really able to see in the dim light. At home he'd have light.

“P-please…” A choked noise come from the boy. “It hurts…” Michael rests completely against Carlos  as he cant find the energy to continue standing.

"I'm going to pick up now okay?" Carlos says softly. "Is that okay?"

Michael whimpers at all the pain, but he nods. He trusts Carlos to take care of him. “m sorry…”

"I got you." Carlos murmurs. "I got you." Carlos leans down and carefully picks Michael up. "Let's go home."

Heartbreaking noises come from the boy as he gets picked up. “Everything hurts…” He whines while hiding his bruising neck from Carlos. Tense and scared but slowly relaxing knowing he's safe with the scientist.

"I know. I'm sorry." Carlos says softly as he starts the walk back home. "I'll get you patched up and some clean clothes and then something warm to eat. Okay?"

Michael nods a little. He has no idea how to hide how bad the damage is once Carlos gets home. The black eye? Handprint bruising around his throat? Those aren't as easy as his stomach and ribs. So Michael remains quiet for the walk home. How would he explain it was his fault this time? Really and truly. He fought back, and he was punished.

Carlos is quiet most of the walk home. He doesn't know what to say. What even was there to say? The walk back home seemed longer than the walk to the park but that could just be Carlos' nerves. "Almost home."

“Thank you...m sorry…” Michael softly whispers as he lays his head against Carlos. The scientist is going to see his bruises anyway, so what's the point in being even more uncomfortable?

Carlos doesn't answer at first. Then he says "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

“Why?” Michael quietly asks. “You haven't done anything wrong… thank you for letting me stay over… and coming to get me…”

Carlos stops walking for a moment and lays his cheek on top of Michael's head. "Because I can't help you."

“Oh…” He quietly says. “But you do help… you're helping now… and you help other times…” Michael explains softly. “You've saved me with the car and CPR and nightmares… you are good, and you help me. Thank you…”

"I only wish I could do more…." Carlos whispers, rounding the corner onto the driveway. "Can you stand for just a minute?"

Michael chews on his bottom lip and nods minutely. “Yessir…” he hoarsely whispers.

"I just have to unlock the door alright?" Carlos digs in his pocket for his house key. He unlocks it as softly as he could, keeping in mind that Cecil was still asleep. "Alright. C'mere. Let's get you cleaned up okay?"

As soon as Carlos let's him, Michael stumbles into the scientist. Clinging to his hero from fear and worry of falling again. “m sorry… m-m sorry…” he whimpers. He's gonna see my throat. He's gonna be sick. I'm gonna make him sick. He's gonna regret me.

Wrapping one arm around Michael, Carlos pushed into the dark living room. He does a quick once over of the room due to habit and was startled to find the kitchen light on. It hadn’t been on when he left. Slowly and carefully, Carlos moved Michael toward the light, poking his head in and jolting in surprise to find Cecil at the table with a mug of coffee between his hands. Cecil had obviously not been awake long at all; as his hair stuck up at odd angles and his eyes were kind of dull. He looked up as Carlos helped Michael sit down.

If Cecil had been standing, the mug between his hands would have shattered. He looks over the fresh bruises and the hand print on Michael’s throat. He was instantly on his feet. “What the hell happened?”

Michael immediately tenses at Cecil's reaction. How the hell does he explain this one? His bullies don't attack at 2am. Hell, he isn't even allowed out of the house most days until at least 8am. But the abused boy is scared and doesn't know what else to do except what he's been forced by his Father to do for years. He says what he's told to say.

“I-I fell… m s-sorry…” he answers, looking at the floor and wishing he was strong enough to tell the truth. It wasn't a lie. He did fall, but it was far from the whole truth.

Carlos crouches down to inspect the damage now that he had enough light. His stomach twisted as he looks over the exposed part of Michael's arms before his eyes traveled up to Michael's face. The black eye was already darkening. He places two fingers on Michael's chin and carefully tilts it up. His eyes land on the handprint, and he felt his blood run cold. "Did he do this to you?"

Carlos already knew the answer and didn't know why he asked, but he couldn't help it.

Michael squeezes his eyes closed and chews on his split lip despite the pain. How does he explain this one? He can't just say yes. His Father would kill him if he did, and while he's been ready to die for awhile now, dying by his Father's hands is truly terrifying.

His throat tightens as he tries to speak, but he manages to get a few hoarse words out. “Was my fault… didn't know the right answer… m sorry…” He whispers.

"You have no reason to apologize. None of this is your fault." Carlos answers. He looks up at Cecil. Cecil had gotten up and set the first aid kit on the table. Carlos mouths a 'thank you' before carefully tilting Michael's face, checking for bleeding or broken skin.

The boy sniffles and shakes his head as best he can while Carlos was holding it. "Didn't know the right answer… didnt wanna fight back… didnt know the right answer… m s-sorry I woke you both…"

Cecil waves his hand a little. "I needed to get up anyway."

Carlos takes his hand from Michael's face. "I don't see any bleeding. That's good at least." He sits back on his heels. "He wanted you to fight back?"

A small nod before he stops and shakes his head instead. "I… he said to… got mad when I didn't…" he pauses and looks away from the couple. "Got mad when I did… pushed him, and he grabbed m-me…" he swallows hard. "Couldn't touch the floor… then threw me down and yelled t leave…" he sniffles again. "I didn't know the right answer…"

Carlos clenches his jaw and doesn't answer. It takes all of his self control not to go down there and put his fist through Thomas's face. "Alright." He says. "You're safe now. He can't get you here. Do you want some water?"

He gives a weak nod. "P-please…" Michael chews on his split lip again. "m sorry…"

"I got it." Cecil says softly, standing and crossing over to the sink. He pulls a glass down and fills it half way before crossing the room again and pressing the glass into Michael's hands. "Drink."

It's a good thing Cecil only filled the cup half way since  Michael's trembling would've spilled the water. He carefully sips from it. The coolness easing his strained throat while stinging his cut lip. "Thank you… m s-sorry…" He pauses as he drinks more of the water. "s my fault… I deserve it…" Michael softly repeats his Father's words.

"I promise you that you don't." Carlos stands to make a compress. "The opposite of deserve. Trust me."

"No one deserves that Michael." Cecil passes a hand through Michael's hair. "Especially not you."

Michael tenses when Cecil brushes his fingers through his hair, but he tries to relax. Knowing that they don't mean him harm is helpful, but most interactions with hands in his hair lead to pain and being pulled around. He stiffly shakes his head. "I-I do… m ungrateful… disrespectful… worthless… pathetic…" his trembling worsens, and his words hold layers of emotions. "I deserve it… it's my fault…"

Cecil pulls his hand away when Michael tenses. “Sorry.” He says softly. He sits back on his heels again to not overcrowd Michael.

Carlos returns to the table two minutes later with an ice pack from the freezer and a luke warm wash rag. He kneels back down and looks up at Michael. “Do you want me to treat your neck or arms first?”

"S-sorry, Cecil…" he whispers when the radio host pulls back from him. Michael knows there's no getting out of this. Carlos and Cecil will fix him as best they can even though he doesnt deserve it.

He looks down at the floor in front of him. Just past his bare feet and just before Carlos's knees. Staring at the small blood drops on the ground, he answers. "Foot? P-please… I- there was a broken bottle… i didn't pay attention… i pulled the glass out at the auction house…"

Carlos sits all the way down on the floor and carefully pulls Michael’s foot onto his lap. He rolls the pant leg up and inspects the cut. “How big was the glass that got stuck here? Do you know?” He asks as he picked up an alcohol swab and starts to clean the wound.

Michael quietly hisses as his foot ignites when Carlos starts to clean with the alcohol swab. "Um…" he pauses, trying to think. "I dunno for sure… it was from the bottom of the bottle and curved… maybe two inches? I-I was shaking when I pulled it out and it sliced it a bit more… m sorry…" the boy anxiously explains.

“The cut could have been a lot deeper so it’s good you pulled it out before it got worse or infected.” He looks up when Michael hisses. “Sorry. I know it hurts.” He finishes the cleaning before  leaning closer to get a better look at the cut. “I don’t think it need stitches but I’m going to wrap it to be sure okay?”

Nodding, Michael tries to keep his leg still. His sprained ankle, which seems to always be sprained, is still bandaged, and now he will have the other foot wrapped up. "m mostly bandages…" he tries to joke and lighten the mood. "Thank you"

“You’re like a mummy from one of those movies Carlos likes so much.” Cecil says with a soft giggle and a yawn. He holds his arms outright and goans.

Carlos starts to  wrap the foot and shakes his head with a chuckle. “I’d rather not have my son be a dead body please and thank you.” He secures the wrap and lowers the foot. “What next?”

The boy smiles at Cecil. He definitely needs to go back to sleep soon. "m pretty much already a dead body." Michael points out before shrugging. "Arms?"

“You aren’t dead if you’re still breathing.” Carlos counterpoints, picking up the cold compress. “This might ache for a moment.” He warns before laying it over the area with the most fresh bruises “But it’ll help them heal faster.” He was glad they managed to get a real smile out of him that time. He hears a dull thud and jumps a little, turning quickly. Cecil had fallen back asleep and as a result, fallen over under the table. “Well…..so much for needing to get up.” Carlos says with a raised eyebrow.

"ve stopped breathing before and m dead inside" Michael muses before bracing for the compress, so it won't be as bad. Flinching back when Cecil falls and whimpering at his torso.He's quiet for a moment. "didnt mean t wake both of you… m sorry…"

“I’m glad you did. You are more important. Always will be.” Carlos changed out the cold compress for the warm one, laying the cold one on Michael’s other arm. “I’ll take care of him in a bit. He has a hard head. He’ll be fine.”

A minute head shake, but no verbal argument. "m sorry…" he whispers before glancing at Carlos and looking away. "P-please don't be mad…" he begs despite not saying why Carlos would be angry or upset.

“I have no reason to be.” Carlos picks up the compress and inspects the arm. Some of the swelling has gone down, so that's good. He switches them out again before standing and going back to the freezer for a fresh ice pack.

"Thank- thank you, Carlos…" Michael looks at his arms before remembering that he has to show his stomach. Possibly more broken or cracked ribs, and his stomach would have terrible bruises from the kicks.

Carlos sits back down. "Is something else on your mind?" He asks, picking up the warm compress again. "I think that'll do for now…."

He chews on his lip again. "My stomach hurts… I… its gonna have new bruises too…" he whispers the last part.

"Can I see?" Carlos asks softly.

Hes gonna be disgusted…

Michael nods a little before carefully lifting the hem of his tattered hoodie up to show his bottom ribs and stomach.

Bruises litter the boy's pale skin. Some already deep purples while others were angry red on top of healing yellow and green skin. An indentation of Thomas's wedding ring left just below his diaphragm.

"m sorry…" He shakily whispers. His eyes closed to keep from seeing the disgust on Carlos's face.

Carlos' heart broke at the state of Michael's torso. It was a good thing Cecil fell back asleep because if he saw this, almost nothing would stop him from trying to fight Thomas. "I'm so sorry. Michael…. "

With his eyes still closed Michael shakes his head. "s-s okay… I… I deserved it… m sorry…"

Carlos shakes his head. "I think I still have some salve to help with the swelling. It'll make you feel better and you'll be able to breathe easier.  Would you like to try it?"

Michael hadn't even noticed the individual pain from his throat as his entire body was ignited and throbbing. He doesn't want to use more of Carlos's supplies, but everything hurts and he just wants the pain to stop. So he nods carefully. "P-please?"

Carlos nods with a smile. "I'll be right back." He stands and goes back to the fridge, pulling out a small mason jar. He then sets it on the table. "We have to give it a few minutes to soften." He says as he kneels back down. "It doesn't really spread when its solid."

"m sorry…" he sniffles and pulls the hoodie back down. Only disgusting things visible now are his bruising eye and battered throat.

"You haven't done anything wrong." Carlos reassures him again. "I promise. You aren't in trouble. Not at all."

Michael shakes his head. Of course he's in trouble. He caused trouble at home and now he's causing trouble here. "m s-sorry… didn't know the- the right answer… m s-sorry…"

"There's no right answer in this situation." Carlos says softly. "But you're safe now and that's what matters."

"Al-always a wrong answer…" he fearfully whispers. His thin frame still trembling. "m s-sorry… shouldn't've- shouldn't've woken you up…"

"I'm glad you did. You are my first priority. Always. I will never regret helping you." Carlos picks up the jar and unscrews the lid. "Want me to do your neck first?"

His breathing picks up slightly. Knowing the salve needs to go on his neck and will help, knowing that Carlos wouldn't hurt him, but scared of the possibility. Regardless of his anxiety, the boy nods a little and closes his eyes.

"Would you rather do it yourself? I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Carlos offers him the jar.

A quick head shake. Hes scared of anything touching his throat, but he trusts Carlos. He already knows something that could kill him, so if he really wants the boy to die, then it will happen. But outsiders can trust outsiders. He trusts Carlos. His hero scientist.

"Alright. I'll be careful." Carlos takes some of the salve onto his index and middle fingers before starting to apply it. "My mama made this when I sprain my ankle jumping off the roof."

Michael tenses as Carlos begins to put the salve onto his throat. He trusts the scientist, but he's still just a scared kid. The boy holds his breath as best he can when Carlos touches the bruised, sensitive skin.

Carlos tilts Michael's chin up a little so he could see better. He is careful to not let his fingers linger on the bruises as he worked. "I'm sorry."

Small, soft whimpers come from Michael as Carlos carefully works on his throat. Eyes squeezed shut as the process seems to take forever. "Th-thank you." He brokenly whispers.

"There. All done." Carlos sits back. "That should soothe the pain. I can do your arms if you like. Or your torso?"

Michael opens his eyes when Carlos pulls back, a small sliver of a smile on his face. I shouldn't waste more of his supplies. He'll hate you. You worthless piece of- "p-please?" He softly asks.

"Which one first?" Carlos tilts his head.

"Um…" he looks down. He can relax more after his stomach is taken care of, right? "Stomach? If-if its okay…"

"Alright. I need to see again. Do you want a clean hoodie? Or a clean set of clothes for when we're done? I'd offer you the banana shirt but Cecil claimed it tonight." He gestures over to his sleeping husband.

A soft smile at the mention of the banana shirt, and Michael looks back at the mess that is a sleeping Cecil. "Please?" He gently asks as he lifts up the bottom of his hoodie. "I dont wanna risk Cecil seeing…"

"Alright. He's pretty dead to the world so that isn't an issue. I'll get you clothes when we finish here alright?" Carlos forces himself to not flinch when be sees Michael's torso again. 'Almost done okay?" He says as he starts to apply the salve in a slow gentle manner.

Michael nods. "Thank you…" He looks down at his battered torso. "m sorry… thank you for being nice…" He can't help but tense when Carlos touches Thomas's ring imprint even though he knows Carlos wont hurt him.

"Sorry." Carlos says softly. He looks up at Michael. "It's my pleasure. My biggest concern is your safety. Always."

"You're probably tired of having t deal with this stuff… m sorry I always bother ya with injuries and stuff…"

"Michael I will never get tired of helping you." Carlos picks the jar up again, scooping some more of the salve out. "Never."

"Y-yeah but it can't be fun… and people get tired of repetitive… boring… useless things…" He bites his lip again, reopening the cut that had just stopped bleeding.

"You are far from boring Michael. Trust me."  He looks up. "Be careful. You will hurt yourself more. We don't want that."

"Multiple people would want that." Michael sighs, but stops chewing his lip. "And m hardly entertaining."

"I happen to think you're great."

The boy furrows his eyebrows. "Why? How did you come to that conclusion?"

"I got to know you. How else would I get to that conclusion?" Carlos quirked an eyebrow and pulled the hoodie down, finished with his work.

Michael relaxes once Carlos pulls down his hoodie. "You're biased and therefore it throws out your data." He tries to reason.

"And how exactly am I biased? Because I'm an outlier?" He couldn't help the slight smile.

"Yessir." He weakly smiles. "Therefore you should not be included."

"What about Cecil? Or Lisa? Or Trevor?"

"Lisa is not old enough to vote on any matter. Cecil is Cecil. Look at him." Michael nods at the passed out mess of a radio host. "A complete gay disaster and totally makes bad decisions. And Trevor, well, he probably doesn't even care. He's gotten use to you bringing home a beaten kid and just rolls with it probably. See something, say nothing."

"Cecil may be a mess but you know as well as I do that when he loves someone, he will move heaven hell and earth to keep them safe and happy." Carlos laughs softly. "Okay. What about Dana? Rochelle? Jason? Emmerissa? Mika? Janice? Roger? Earl? I can do this all night."

"Dana is pretending for your own mental comfort. Rochelle probably has a vendetta against you since shes knocked you out and zip tied you to a chair. Jason swallows firecrackers, and it probably isn't good for his head. Em connects to all the interns. I'm nothing more than an intern to her. A pretty bad one too with my attendance record." A half laugh. "Mika has Ainsel and I'm pretty sure they only tolerate me because we are partners for most history projects. Earl can't express how terrible I am because Cecil is his best friend and your husband has a temperament to throw hands. Roger and Janice are same as Earl's reasoning. You're gonna run out of people." Michael smirks.

"Josie? My dead abuela? I got hit with a rolling pin because she thought i wasn't feeding you enough. Khoshekh? Hell even the Faceless Old Woman."

"Carlos," Michael gently places his hand on the scientist's arm. "Are you being hurt by your abuela regularly? Oh sweetheart, are you being abused?" He playfully asks in a light tone. "You're not alone. We can get you help." His abuela was such a sweet woman when the boy met her. Though she didn't really understand why Carlos suddenly had a fifteen year old with him, especially not one that was so underweight.

Carlos snorts. "You and I both know my father was the abusive one not my abuela. You can't deny that Josie doesn't love you. Oh yeah and the hooded figures."

Michael smirks when Carlos slips up with his words. It is early morning after all. "You're right. I can't deny that Josie doesn't love me. It is true and I admit it. She does not love me just like you said." He twists his sleeves. "The hooded figures tolerate me just like they do with everyone else in Night Vale. They probably like you and Ceec more considering you used their dog park for a vacation shortcut."

Carlos groans and rubs his face. "You know what I mean." He smiles softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Thank you for saving me, hero." He gently smiles. "Not as bad as before coming here… m scared t go home… Father will want me back eventually…" A quiet, fearful confession.

"I'm not a hero." Carlos smiles back. "Well you are welcome to stay here as long as you need. Do you want to sleep in your room or ours?"

My room? I don't have a room… I stay in your guest room… "m scared t be alone…" Michael answers instead. He doesn't want to be alone, but it's not his choice. Having already burdened the couple, it is their choice where Michael ends up.

"Of course. Come on. I'll get you situated before moving Cecil. And I'll dig you up some pajamas." Carlos stands and offers his hand.

Relief floods the abused boy, and he shakily accepts Carlos's hand. His legs wobble as he tries to stand up. He ultimately has to cling to his papa to stay upright, groaning at the pain.

"Easy does it." Carlos picks him up and carried him to the master bedroom. He sits Michael on the bed before going to the dresser. "After last time, Cecil went nuts and bought a lot of pajamas so ...take your pick." He grabs five sets of flannel. One with taco cats, one space themed, one with birds on them, one with boats and solid green set.

You're not a little kid. You should walk on your own. Pathetic.

Michael chuckles at the selection he's offered. "Cecil likes to go overboard. Space?" He smiles before quickly adding. "If-if that's okay...please…"

"If he didnt, he wouldn't be Cecil." Carlos hands over the pajamas. "You get changed. I'll go get Cecil."

A small nod. "Thank you." He twists his sleeves before finally accepting he has to change.

"I will be right back. Call if you need me okay?" Carlos says before standing up straight and going back to the kitchen to clean up.

The boy nods, but he knows he wont. With the swelling and bruising around his throat, it would be too painful. Michael carefully begins to undress after Carlos leaves the room. The pajamas are extremely soft, and for a moment he doesn't worry about borrowing their supplies. For a moment he is simply a little kid who had a nightmare and is sleeping in his parents bed to keep himself safe. The monsters aren't under the bed though. They live in his house and inside his head, but they dont hurt him as much when hes with his new family. His dads keep him safe.

Carlos cleans the kitchen quickly, putting the ice packs back in the freezer and the salve back in the fridge. He made a mental note to go back to the park and get the first aid kit. He then kneels down beside Cecil and shakes him gently to wake him.

Cecil jerks upright, nearly hitting his head again. "Kevin I will punch you in your ugly face!"

"Punching Kevin will have to wait. It's time for bed." Carlos says with an amused smile. "Come on." Carlos helps Cecil stand and guides him back to the bed room, knocking on the door frame.

Michael twists the sleeves of his new outfit. Too scared to risk raising his broken voice, he knocks against the bed frame.

Carlos opens the door and guides Cecil back to the bed. "Sleep."

Cecil gives Michael a sleepy smile. "I like space." He giggles and yawns, booping Michael's nose. He crawls onto the bed and holds up the fuchsia comforter. "Bedtime."

The boy smiles back. "Space is neat." He giggles when Cecil boops his nose. Looking unsure at the comforter and sleepy radio host, Michael twists his sleeves. They're safe. We are family. They will keep me safe. He reminds himself before finally crawling to join the space underneath the blanket. "Thank you."

"Neat." Cecil gives a small nod and closes his eyes, asleep in a matter of moments.

Carlos slips under the blanket and looks at Michael. "Want me to leave the lamp on?"

"P-please?" He weakly asks. Pathetic.

Carlos nods and sets his glasses on the bedside table. "Alright. Bedtime for you too."

"Okay…" He carefully shifts to hug Carlos while they lay there. Resting his head on the scientist's chest. "Goodnight, my hero."

Carlos didn't have the heart or energy to argue. So he just smiles. "Good night Pez Pequeño." He whispers.

[supacutiepie]

I have headcanons... Head Cannons if you will

I thoroughly believe Bakugou is the type to bullshit his way around every little truth so honestly this shit might as well be canon bc he is Absolutely That Extra

- The new reveals told that: The reason we didn’t see his room is because it’s got shelves of romance manga.

-Therefor : Bakugou is a MAJOR BOOK NERD NESTER

-He has cookbooks, his trashy literature, his classics, his mangas, every school book he ever owned has been kept. 

-This includes shit he wrote himself

-Cookbook notebooks, its a full wall to wall scenario. He has books in every language and they make a librarian weep.

-The books he can’t read?? He has notebooks filled with translations he’s jot down after hours of scouring the internet and his OTHER books.

-TBFH his self written notebook collection puts “shitty nerdy fanboy deku” to shame

-Not only does he have this many books, they have consumed him. His room is wall to wall with them and they are so neatly organized to his mind that he just AUTOMATICALLY knows EXACTLY where every little page is. 

-However

-You may think, “Bakugou is the neatest of the students”

-Bullshit

-He understands his methods. You could never. I’m not shitting you, we have only ever seen his bed because its the only clean spot. He has piles of books, his closet is filled with his novelty t-shirts--

-Oh, he swaps out his wardrobe every season. Not because he cares per say but rather if he didn’t he’d drown in the clothes. His parents own a fashion line, every. single. month. he gets something new.

-Clothes mean jack shit to him. Sure, he gets it. He understands that clothes are “Expressions”... but to him its just bullshit extra merchandise that he gets in  packages once a month since he born. He long since left behind any attachment to anything that wasn’t some doofy bs novelty shit. His skull shirt collection is hideous and he loves it. 

-Bc he gets clothes so often, he just as often donates them.

-Everyone in 1-A has received a mysterious package of clothing. Everyone. And it’s always customized because like hell he’d just throw clothes at people puh-lease his father DESIGNS FASHION FROM SCRATCH

-It’s also ‘secretly’ his way of trying to put some kind of fashion sense in the heathens he lives with. 

-So his closet is full, his walls are lined with shelves and stacks and notes.

-But the rest of the “clear space” is filled with art.

- Drawings, Sketches, Designs. Little thing stacked up or tapped together. Prototypes over a desk thats STUFFED with pencils and erasers and extra paper and books. 

-Photographs of the places he’s been. So many different shots of Paris, mountains, rivers, lakes. He has a series of photo albums for the best and one is entirely dedicated to sunrises- another to sunsets.

-He has a map above his bedside. It’s the only spot big enough because it doesn’t have a big ass bookshelf on the wall.

-The map is big and delicately detailed. But it’s still just a map.

-The cool shit is that it is COVERED in tack-markers. Well, most of it is. 

-Europe is washed out by tacks. France has so many different colored tacks its an eyesore. Paris has a big ass push pin bc he’s been there so many times. Enough that when Aoyama starts mumbling obscenities at their classmates he has to stop himself from cackling along.

-He has a trail of pushpins along the Alps and Pyrenees. 

-The different colors mean things. But only he gets its.

* Black is Done. Been there, done it, no point going back.

*Green is Good. It’s a place he kinda liked, but its not somewhere he needs to go back to. Paris is a big ass green push pin.

*Red is for a place he wants to go back to. The mountains are a trail of red that grows inch by inch longer.

*Blue is for Potential. He marks his next trips in blue, but not his dream trips.

*Those would be his nice, doofy, silver tipped push pins. the classic “string on a crime board” kind. He has major cities plotted out with these. Theres a large mishmash over america filled with silver and blue. He has books and books and BOOKS on american mountain ranges and cuisine and he not-so-secretly plotted out a course all-might themed rest stops.

*Yellow is for his favorites. The first mountain he ever hiked, the onsen he found while his parents dragged him out to a business trip up north, the island they went on once for a family vacation. (He fell in love with the sunset. It was clear and bright and there were so many colors at once that its his ‘happy place’. He sat on top of a fucking volcano and it was AWESOME.)

-The map is obsessively picked over, the pins are carefully arranged, and the map itself its surrounded by his favorite snapshots of the places marked.

-His room is a mess. But he does know the exact inch everything belongs in.

-He may not seem it, but he is sentimental. He just doesn’t keep all the sentimental shit in the dorms. Those things are at home. On shelves and wall caddies and tucked between his even BIGGER collection of books and cd cases.

-He does have All Might merch, but again, at home. The few things he has at the dorm are hand drawn posters, so much cooler than the cheap shit you get in the store.

-He doesn’t have time for movies and shows, but when he does its either “cheesy romance serial” or “blood, guts, and glory”

-TBFH his FAVORITE movie is a bastard child of a romcom, an action, and a suspense thriller. It’s horrible, its audacious, its cheesy and the vgi is awful but its one of those Things he loves. (On really bad days, when his arms ache for hours and he didn’t sleep well the night before he lets the movie go on repeat just for the cheese. It’s a soothing ‘nothing really matters’ kinda Thing)

-Oh, lets not forget his arms.

-His quirk is DEMANDING. Its a needy little princess. He gets sick of it acting like a bitch. His arms will ache if he over does it, so he has a giant fucking box of tiger balms and compression wraps and weird fucking icy-hot concoctions.

-He DOESN’T have skin car shit. Surprise surprise, he doesn’t need it. He is soft. He is also, incredibly fucking annoyed.

-He has those super obnoxious spray colognes, some super expensive shit, and inbetweeners. Because otherwise he smells like he just rolled out a vat of butterscotch and step into a shower of caramel. But BURNT.

-Seriously, his room would be noxious from the nitroglycerin smell alone. He constantly has a fan going and the window open. And while the room is cluttered he CANNOT let it go uncleaned or he risks a build up of explosives. He has to change his sheets daily, he has a routine for covers and pillow cases, and he is damn near religious in clothes washing because otherwise he’s destined to explode Something he Doesn’t Want Exploded. (The books. The very flammable sometimes RARE books.)

-Oh, and he has MANY a blanket and throw. He swaps them out so he isn’t doing huge loads of laundry for the big shit. It’s mostly thin blankets anyways, but they’re super soft and cozy and he nestles up to read his books like a demented caterpillar. The blanket he sleeps with ALWAYS ends up on the floor. 

-He doesn’t like to think himself overly conceited. But he is cocksure and arrogant and he has an image to keep. So of course he has routines to make himself look good.

-This is just a Bakugou thing TBQH.

-More of a personal headcanon, but he’s definitely gay. Not in the super obvious way, but he’s definitely confident in it. He isn’t about to go plastering his walls with flags (as if they’d fit), and he isn’t jotting down crushes in a journal (he does have journals, they’re just... incredibly volatile and profane)

-He’s just, confident.  He has a single little rainbow picture, its a picture he took and its super cool and shit. A rainbow in the mountains, right after a shower. He keeps in in a frame in one of the bookshelves near his manga. It’s tasteful, and it’s subtle. He knows what its for, and the littleness of it feels nice and secure.

-He doesn’t shy away if asked. But no one asks. He’d be honest, if anyone did. It’s not something he will hide- that’d be cowardly...

-But deep down, it does give him pause. It’s something he wrestled into submission since he figured it out. He had this big dream of being N.1 and then one day he realized that, had society not advanced the way it did, he could have nothing. He’d never tell a soul but it scared him, to know that despite all his ‘perfections’  he had this one thing that would turn heads in a way he didn’t want.

-He realized though that it as just one more thing he’d own. So he noosed it, that fear, and he throttled it into submission. He’d be N.1, he’d be open, He’d pioneer that shit if he had too- but he didn’t have too. It ended up being something that added character if nothing else, and he was determined to make it a trait and not a flaw and to build his pride with it.

-That all being said, much like any self respecting gay- he does has a string of lights tastefully weaving over the wood of his bookshelves.

-Extras:

* He doesn’t get sick often. Just, doesn’t. He keeps a close watch on his health, is always good on hygiene, and in general doesn’t jeopardize his well-being.

* When he gets sick. It hits him like a FREIGHT TRAIN.

* He only gets fevers once in a blue moon and he’ll fight the damn moon itself to keep it this way because when he DOEs get a fever its like a putting a handful of firecrackers into a cooking pot.

* He pops when sweaty. He just DOES, It’s INCREDIBLY annoying but thankfully localized to the hands. But when the fever strikes, his whole body pops. He spends the majority of his fever curled up in something flame-proof to wait it out.

*If he’s sweating, and by some MIRACLe he blushes, he CRACKLES.

* He’ll kill you if you witness it.

* I said he’s confident, not that he can’t be flustered.

* On that note, he’ll take it to the grave, but he definitely made Kaminari discharge in front of the dorms that first day by kissing him. It was on the cheek though! And it fucking hurt. Touching Kaminari is like playing roulette and his finger tips smell funny afterwards so he tries to avoid it.

* Honestly, the same can be said for anyone with a quirk that can react to his.

*Fucking half-and-half actually worries him. For the sanctity of his clothing.

* That fight with Deku in ground-beta set off every nerve ending he had and for a solid 24 hrs afterwards he actually had trouble keeping his quirk under his skin. He can still vividly recall the arc of electricity over his face and it never fails to leave a lasting echo in his mind.

* Kirishima is good for this though. Ironically, he’s grounding. He’s the one person Bakugou has never worried about hurting or leaving damage behind. Likewise, he knows that Kirishima high-key needs the confidence boost that Bakugou drags with him everywhere, so he amps up his attitude when the red-head seems down.

* He has no earthly idea how to describe his relationship with Kirishima and it shows. He would never dare say it allowed, but he knows that the boy is his best friend and he’d honestly kill for him. But more so, he’d be willing to live and fight beside him.

* Kirishima is one of the VERY FEW who has a picture in Bakugou’s room. It’s from a hiking trip, and its really backlit so you honestly wouldn’t know at first glance, but its beautiful. A sunrise, right at the summit. A figure standing on a rock with a hand excitedly outstretched towards the horizon.

* The other people with photos, are his parents- and the Midoriya’s.

* It’s not as obvious this one. But he keeps a family photo on his bookself of the three Bakugous, and then theres an old photograph tucked away between some of his older school book collections.

* It’s a beach photo. He couldn’t be more than, maybe three? 

* It’s a whole other life. A time before his quirk. Before he knew he was destined.

*He’s sitting on a rock with a backsplash of salt and foam. He’s got an arm wrapped around a tiny Izuku. It was the only thing keeping the other boy from tumbling off into the waves. Their moms are sitting on either side, big happy faces all around.

*The boys were burnt, both heavily freckled, and smiling like the world was endless.

* The photo...makes him sad. He can’t explain it, not even sure what words could do so. It’s nostalgic sure, but something between the pixels of ink has him at a lost. It was such a different time, and the little boy in the photo is a stranger.

*Sometimes, rarely and in the dead of night when a nightmare finally gets him awake, he thinks about life. About how different it could have been, about the paths he chose and the ones he burnt. He wonders, he regrets, and he moves on before morning.

*Bakugou Katsuki refuses to dwell. He bottles and compartmentalizes and he tucks it away like a pamphlet in a library. Notes and subscripts to be lost in translation. 

( He’s vocal, he’s vivid. He writes. He loves his book collection and he writes his own short stories. His imagination is as vivid as the rest of the class, and he jots down half finished ideas all the time. He has a memory that makes an elephant cry, so his school notebooks are tiny and his idea notebooks are scattered. The words he can’t get out into the air are sometimes trapped in ink. )

[1nn32dem0n5]

another day in gradschool

I am bored and sick. I have a viral infection that makes my head feel very large, so I blow the rest of the day off and go to the gym. I punch the bag, do my pushups, do my pull-ups and then run on the treadmill, in between these two young, gorgeous, red-cheeked undergrads. One is thick, like a sack of potatoes, but she is still shapely. She runs sprints. The other is small and much more aesthetically pleasing than her counterpart. They both smell nice. She runs at a constant pace, not sprints. I realize both are going faster than me, and I spend a few minutes trying to figure out if this is emasculating. I decide I don’t care since a more pressing issue takes precedence: a smell. The smell is me. Its as foul as it comes since I was wearing already dirty clothes, I was at the end of the workout, and earlier I didn’t wipe with quite enough toilet paper.  

I forced myself to not give a fuck. It was not easy. Im sure both of them had assholes and at one time birthed a molten stew of diarrhea. Not to mention the fact that every month their pussies drip with blood for days at a time. Who are they to judge me and my body odor? It's as natural as it gets. The more I thought about it the more I grew to love my foulness and be proud of it. Men aren't meant to be clean creatures, or at least I wasn’t meant to be. Human kind as a whole is dirty. We have to struggle every day with showers, clean clothes, brushing our teeth, makeup, hair and so on and so forth. And for what, just to be clean? Maybe we aren't meant to be clean. It's not natural to struggle so hard to maintain something. If it's natural it should be easy. Like fucking fat chicks.

Who the fuck knows? My thoughts drift often when I run, which is good because it keeps me distracted from how much I hate running. Body odor is one thing, but if I'm going down on a girl and I can smell shit, my cock will instantaneously wilt.

I come to, realize I am still running, and it's barely been 5 minutes. I look outside the window, and it hits me again. I have no clue where I am and how I got here. The fog sets in and for a brief moment I feel as thought my legs will become spaghetti that’s been cooked too long. Im worried that if I fall the two girls will laugh at me, or even worse, be concerned about me and gasp in shock, their faces twisted in horror, as my limp body is thrown backwards by the treadmill, and my face somehow is pinned in between the moving sandpaper-like part and the floor. I wonder if this will make them want to fuck me more or less. I wonder if they will keep contact with me after my face will be all deformed, spend months in the hospital to fix it, then fuck me out of pity, before I marry one of them because clearly I cannot ever do better with my fucked up face. I'll spend the rest of my life fighting off stares from strangers wondering how in the hell did I get that girl.

I wonder if they even notice my presence, or my smell? Maybe they don’t even realize I am here; that I am running next to them.

Who am I kidding? Of course they do. How could anyone not notice me?

ME!

I convince myself that passing out would play to my advantage, and as father Joe Riley once said it, I say it too: "fuck it!". I said it not aloud but in my mind, and I keep running without barely any flinch. If i pass out I'll pass out. If my heart, which was beating roughly 3 times a second, decides to explode in my chest then so fucking be it. I'll die here on this fucking treadmill, next to these young potato faced hoosierettes. Fuck the hoosiers truly. At least the last thing I'll smell is this cute one on the left as she freaks out. Hopefully she touches my face and in the process her boob grazes my body. That would be a good way to go. Maybe she will even give mouth to mouth. Imagine that, having a heart attack with a raging hard on, tenting up proudly, in the middle of a crowded gym. I hope I don’t shit myself. Statistically I will.  

A song I love comes on, and it reminds me of something pleasant. I start smiling to myself and I shadow box because i feel like it would give me a more mysterious look; the man bun and torn wife-beater had slipped my mind. I ran and ran like an idiot, bobbing around as the sonorous beats of black widow baby hammered away at my already unhinged eardrum. I almost passed out again when it was time to stop. It took a full 5 minutes to get my heart rate down from 180 to a more regular 100. Then the best thing happened on my way out of the gym. The gods blessed me, since at that exact moment this long-legged tall-girl with the shortest shorts and the most top-shelf ass walks in front of me. I will forever never take another elevator again. The spandex stretched with every step and you could almost make out the patterns on her panties. I knew in this moment that there was a God. I just wasn’t sure why he was being kind to me.

How does one get a girl like that? Just look at her. Her skin was so fair, and those legs stretched far beyond the heights I dared to raise my eyes to out of shame that someone is watching me and sees my uncontrollable lust. I could lay my face on that ass and all my trouble would dissolve away, because what do I care? It's hard to care about anything else when your face is pressed up against an ass as beautiful as this one. The stairs were my personal eternity. As we exited the gym I walked faster to get a side view of her. She was not pretty at all and I don’t even know why I expected otherwise. I've learned that if you want a truly pretty girl, the midwest is not the ideal place to look for them. They do have bodies chiseled out of marble and cornmeal, but almost none have the faces to go with em. NYC is far superior in this category, since rarely have I gone on a night of drinking in downtown and not fallen in love. How could you not? There is so much beauty in new york. And so much hideousness too. In the middle west they hope the tightness and stretchiness of the spandex will be enough to distract you from their potato faces. And they often do. More than once a day I see an ass I'd like to bury myself in, and spend my entire life there. Here was one moment.

I never understood this about myself. The extreme desires and attraction I feel for a woman's ass. Theres so little one can do to it: you can slap it, bite it, grope it, squeeze it and fuck it. There are second order processes like eat off it, draw it, take pictures of it, watch it jiggle, make it jiggle, watch it walk away, or run, or twerk, sneak, squat. And there are so many varieties: the flat ones you can power fuck into Odin, the fat ones you need to manually spread in order to touch cunt with cock, and all the infinity of sizes and angles in between. There is just so much you can do with an ass. Yet somehow, it just doesn’t feel like its enough. The desire is much too strong, almost as if I want to envelop myself in the squishy goodness of a well fed ass and cum all over it until its glistening with ounces and ounces of hot human cum. I want to bite into an ass and eat it. I want to be one with it. How sad it must be for men who are not ass men. The full womaninity of any woman is held up by a tiny piece of flimsy, cute patterned fabric, often embroidered with Victoria logo.  

I got home and I facebook stalked this one chick I went to high-school with who made a repulsive post about how she hates working full time because she cant spent enough time with her child. Here she is in a million pictures with her and what I can assume is her offspring, and her husband, and all I can think of is that night we snuck into the food court, blotto - when she was begging me to fuck her. I walked her home and got in bed with her that night. But I didn’t fuck her. Never understood why. Its like sometimes I am a complete fucking idiot. Who gets offered free, nice and young pussy, with legs akimbo, panting, begging for cock and who says says NO? Apparently 18 year old me does. What a broken child I was.

I think about the fat chick I was running next to, because the image of her sturdy thighs and ass is still burned into my lustful mind. I imagine what her pussy must have tasted like while she was crouching on my face. Would her ass cover my entire field of vision? Most likely yes. How horrible it would be if she just decided to hold me down, and shit on my face? I would be less powerless if a horse tried to ass fuck me. Yet still I wonder what her pussy would taste like. Would it be tight? Do thick females have tight pussies? Or is it just fat ones? I contemplate this as I drink the rest of the day, and do nothing else of substance. I write a few pages which I'm pretty sure are shit. People come by and I get stoned with them, but refuse their offer to go to the bars. There is nothing that brings me pleasure anymore. I just want to lay on my couch and die. I want a great big ass to park on my mouth, nose in pussy, as I gasp for air, dying, lungs filled with farts and grool.

Oh what a way to go.  

[jackandmarksavedme88]

@ashphoenix06 @weirdmixofweirdness @honestlyitsjustkennaswriting @emma-wrote

TW: Violence anxd Blood

(I dont have a title for it lmao)

I could hear Jack in the next room recording his let's play; I heard him laugh and giggled. "My best friend is an idiot." I checked my phone, waiting for him to be done. I looked around and wondered how the hell i got here. Four years ago i was just someone just watching his videoes. Now? He's one of my best friends....something i would've laughed in your face for even suggesting it could happen. And yet here i am.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stand up...something's wrong. I realized its too quiet. I look toward Jack's game room and realize its silent.... except for a faint static sound.

"Jack?? You ok in there dude?"

My question was met with silence.

"Jack?" I get up and walk towards the door to the room hes in. The sound makes me shiver. 'What the hell is that?' I wonder.

"Hey... You ok?" I say as i knock on the door

"Ye-yeah...Im good...hey listen i dont think i can go tonight."

I frown "Huh? The whole reason anyone is coming is because youre here in LA for a while and they havent seen you in forever"

I hear him breathing hard "Just...go and tell them im sick"

I turn the knob slightly to open the door "Jack, are you sure youre ok?

"YES! ITS JUST A DAMN HEADACHE. GO"

I jump back, startled at the rage and pain mixed in his voice.

"Uh..o-ok...... If you need something let me know" I turn and walk out of the apartment hes renting and frown as i step onto the street

'What the hell was that?' I wonder.

I see a text from Amy asking if we are on the way. I dial her

'Hellllooooo?' I hear her boyfriend Mark's goofy voice

'Hey guys...jack is sick. He's not coming tonight'

Theres a pause as they take in the confusion and hurt in my voice

'What happened?' Asked Amy

'Fuckin beats me. But if he was a girl id guess PMS. He yelled at me! But its whatever. I'll just go hang out at home. I dont feel much like going anywhere anymore"

"No. Im going to come get you." Amy said. "Ill invite Katherine and Tyler and Ethan and we will all hang out at our house.... I dont want you alone right now"

I knew why. Mark and Amy knew all about the nightmares, the panic attacks. All of it started ten months ago and whenever they could, they kept me company

I was quiet...thinking back. To that night that everything came crashing down. The facade i built up was torn away.

*************

"Ugh. Youre talking to them AGAIN? Why do you feel the need to be up their asses"

I jumped, startled by Brandon speaking from the doorway

"Jesus babe. You scared me! Im watching Jack's video and talking to him and Mark."

'Yeah. Like you do every freakin day. You ever think they get tired of you?" His words dripped coldly, stabbing at a well known insecurity and finding their mark

I took a deep breath "No. Because they would say so. They would tell me 'hey. I dont feel like talking' and that would be that"

Brandon rolled his eyes "Yeah. Whatever. I dont see why youre friends with them anyway. They take too much priority. You should be focused on other things...like me"

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes "I focus on you enough. Come watch with me! Its funny!"

"No. Thanks. I have better things to do. You should too" his voice getting that edge to it...the one I knew too well, it made me cringe but at the same time pissed me off

"I really dont get what your deal is." I said

"My deal is they stick their nose where it doesnt belong and they dont know when to walk away....especially that little Irish asshole" he sneered.

That struck me for some reason "Hey! Jack has never done anything to you Brandon. Neither has Mark for that matter. Back the hell off" I said, standing up and facing him

His green eyes flashed darkly "You need to watch how you talk to me. Thats another thing, you get mouthy when you talk to them. You forget where you belong"

I stared at him...wondering how the hell it had come to this. He wasnt always this way...and i wasnt always afraid of what would happen...

Mouthy?! If standing up for myself and people i care about makes me mouthy then i guess so! And what do you mean they dont know how to walk away? What the hell are you talking about? Whatd Jack do that was so bad?"

He barked a laugh out "When we went out to LA for you to see them, he didnt like how he perceived i was treating you. He threatened me. Him and Mark. Threating me! Not that you care"

I thought about that trip. About the bruise on my face i got the first night for a hug that lasted too long. The bruise on my arm when i wanted to go dance but not with Brandon... Thats when Jack, Mark and Amy had begged me to stay there.

To leave Brandon... Thats when they peeked behind the curtain i had kept up for the last two years.

"What do you mean by threatened?" I asked warily. Not sure what happened

" He waited till you went to the bathroom with the girls and slammed me up against the wall and said if i knew what was good for me Id 'treat you better' and he better not hear of it again" Mark just stood there and watched it and when i went to say something to him he said it was better that Jack did it because he wouldve done worse! Thats what your precious friends did." He spat. Words dripping with disdain.

I stood speechless.... I didn't think anyone gave a crap. Sure they said they did and wanted me to leave...but i didnt think i was a friend worth threatening someone over

"Well. Thats what happens when you care about someone. You protect them" i said quietly...before i realized what that would set off, then steeled myself for it

The atmosphere of the room changed. It went from normal to almost foggy. The tension grew thick. Brandon stepped up close to me, his 6ft frame dwarfing my 5'3" one.

"Im the ONLY person that gives a shit about you. They keep you around for entertainment. You think they care? You could disappear and in a month they wouldnt even remember your name. Im the one that takes care of you. Im the one that made you who you are. You would still be in your moms house in that backwoods town if it wasnt for me! You keep forgetting just where you stand in this relationship Alison. Keep pushing and im going to have to reteach you some things" his words were almost a whisper

"Now. Unless you want me to wait and kick his ass myself to make him leave you be, i suggest you not talk to him as much." He said smiling...it didnt quiet reach his eyes though. Those were cold and hateful

The thought of him putting hands on jack was too much. I stepped up right in his face

"You can do whatever you want to me. Say what ever you want to me....but dont you EVER threaten one of them again!" I spit out the words, my emotions and courage suprising me

I shouldve prepared myself, but the smack caught me off guard and i fell against the wall. He grabbed me and turned me to face him, pressing my back to it

"I told you. Dont. Speak.To.Me.That.Way" he spit out as he painfully grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him.

"Brandon.. Let go!" I cried. He just laughed and hit me in the ribs on each side. I went down to my knees

"Get up you pathetic bitch. You want to stand up for your man, then do it"

"Brandon. Hes my friend. Why do you have to be this way. Hes a friend!" I yelled through my tears

"Oh. I know. Because why would he want something like you? But you seem to forget how to talk to me" his words dripped in hatred and anger. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and drug me to my feet. "Now. Are you going to do as told? Or do i need to convince you further?"

I breathed in sharply, pretty sure a rib was at the least bruised if not broken. But then i thought back to what he said. Thought of what hed do to Jack....because he really was that possesive.

"Im waiiiiting Ali. Or do you need a visual of what ill do to him? Id probably start at his kneecaps. Break those and hes at my mercy. Then ill work over his ribs and his face...if im feeling generous i might stop before theres a need for ICU...."

That did it. I went numb and saw red. I couldnt feel the pain in my face or ribcage anymore. The thought of it sent me flying into his face

I think it suprised him because i had never fought back before. Id always bowed down to whatever he wanted. Because i thought i loved him. Because i thought he was all i had.

I screamed as i drove myself into him and out into the living room. He tripped on his own feet and i landed on him, throwing fists anywhere theyd land. I heard a crack as i landed one on the bridge of his nose and blood started to flow. He yelled and grabbed me and flipped me over. He smacked me in the face and his body weight pinned me to the floor

"You dumb cunt. You really thought that would work? Did you really think you could make me do what you wanted by fighting back????? Youre mine and you will obey me!!" He punched me in the face and i almost blacked out. He looked up to the coffee table and saw his pocket knife and got a look of pure evil in his eyes. "And apparently you need a reminder of the fact that whats mine is MINE" With one hand he held my wrists as i struggle to break free, with the other he grabbed the knife and popped it open, the blade sharp and gleaming.... This was it... I knew i was going to die. Hed threatened so many times and hes finally going to do it.

He lifted the bottom of my shirt up, exposing my stomach. "Now. Hold still sweetheart" he purred coldly.

I started to kick and scream as i felt the knife drag across and slice my skin open....and the world went black..

..........

I slowly came to, blinking against the fluorescent lights. I opened my eyes slowly, letting them adjust. Feeling dizzy, worn out... What the hell was going on?

"No. Shes been out of it since she came up here. Theyve given her medicine to help her rest and keep her calm. No, i dont know what they think yet...... Yes i know you want to kill him but the fact is, youre in England and hes here in Texas... Jack. Dude ill let you know, i promise...alright. Bye'.... I knew that voice..

I was confused. What is Mark talking about and why the hell does he sound so close? My eyes finally cleared and i could see Amy on the couch against the windows... Mark was pacing back and forth. His hair messed up like it is when he constantly runs his hands through it....i knew that was a nervous tic of his... I realized I was in a hospital bed

"M-Mark? I croaked out. Throat dry

He turned sharply "Alison!" Rushing to the bed side he grabbed my hand "Hey...welcome back" I looked to the other side where Amy had perched on the bed next to me, a worried look

"What.....what the hell happened?" I murmured, thoughts jumbled. I looked in Marks eyes, they were wet with tears that he blinked away quickly. "That bastard almost killed you.... The neighbor heard you screaming and called the cops....when they got there they could hear it so they busted in... He broke four of your ribs, gave you a concussion and cut you all up....you had me and Amy on emergency numbers so we got here this morning....youve been here about 24 hours." Tears streamed down his face as he squeezed my hand. I felt Amy rub my arm and looked over to her.

"You guys didnt have to come all the way here for me. Really.... Thats crazy. Amazing. But crazy"

"Heh" mark laughed "jack wanted to jump a flight from England... Oh i better call him"

He walked outside the room and shut the door

"Alison....I want you to come home with us when you get out of here. Im not leaving you in that apartment." Amy said, determination on her face. I knew there was no arguing.

"Ok...maybe for a little while..." I trailed off. We sat in silence for a moment

"By the way....cops said you broke that assholes nose and an orbital bone. Also busted his ribs when you were kicking him when he cut you...nice job" she laughed bitterly

**********

Ali??" Amy said over the phone. I snapped out of my daydream. "Yeah Amy...Im here. Um...Im just not up to people tonight... I promise im ok. If im not, I'll call you." I said

It was quiet for a moment and then Mark spoke up "Are you sure? We can be to your place in no time." I smiled "Yeah guys. Im sure. Ill talk to ya'll tomorrow" i hung up the phone after saying goodbye and walked to my car. Pondering what my life had become in just a few years..... 'Screw this. Im going for a drink' i said aloud.

I went back to my apartment and picked out my black dress from the back of the closet. I felt like wearing it for the first time since i bought it. I held it up to my body and studied my reflection and laughed, remembering the day i bought it

*********************

"Amy..... I really dont think i can come out in this" i said from inside the dressing room

"Alison Jaymes if you dont step out here right this minute im crawling under the door!' She said laughing

I grimaced...embarrassed to be in something cut so low.....sure my legs looked great and it gave me great cleavage but..... id be a laughing stock if i walked in anywhere in this...but i knew shed do what she said. i cracked the door and peeked out, making sure no one was around and stepped out.

Amy's eyes widened "holy crap! Girl. You have to get that. You look amazing!!!!"

"Yeah. Right im sure. And where or when would i wear the damn thing.... It shows too many of...these" i said bitterly as i traced the light scar down my arm and then one on my leg...both left that night by Brandon

Amy stepped closer to me "Ali, you look amazing. Please get it. Especially since your hair is that cherry cola color. Your green eyes pop and this dress just completes it. You.look.amazing..... I bet Jack would be speechless....and thats hard to think of" she laughed, looking at me mischeviously

I threw my head back and laughed. "Yeah. Speechless as to why i would wear something like this. I could have a Playstation attached to my head and he wouldnt notice me. Not that way..and thats fine. But.....this would be good to wear out to get drinks...meet a stranger....dance. Hmmm"

********************

I finished my eyeliner was applying my red lipstick. I stepped back from the mirror and admired myself. Id lost about thirty pounds in the last few months and had to admit i didnt look half bad.....i slipped my heels on and grabbed my coat and walked to the car.

As i was putting the keys in the ignition, my phone rang. I looked down at it as the screen lit up with Jacks face

"Hello? " I answered. Not knowing what to expect

"A-alison?" Jacks voice came through the phone raspily. It made me shiver

"Yeah Jack. Whats up?" I asked, a little worried now. He didnt sound like himself

"Hey...im really sorry about that... I-I didnt mean to yell at you at all. Its just...hard to fight those headaches and....well im just sorry ok?" He said, rushing through his words. I could tell he was tired. Worriedly i said " Are you sure you dont need anything? I have medicine in my purse. I could go get you some food or something...." Losing all thought of going out. Wanting to know what was actually going on

"Yeah...maybe...maybe some soup or something?" He asked. I smiled "Sure. I can do that. Give me a little bit and I'll be there, ok?" He sighed "Ok...and Ali? Again im really sorry-"

"Ah ah" i stopped him. It doesnt matter now. We're good. " i hung up, still worried, but glad to not end on a bad note. I got back out of the car and hurried inside. Instead of changing i just grabbed some sweat pants and old tshirt to change into when i got there.

About an hour later i knocked on the door. Jack opened it and invited me in...not speaking. I was carrying some chicken soup from the diner i loved going to. Homemade and it smelled amazing

"Hey. Thanks for coming back....what is all that?" Jack chuckled as i put the food and a bag from the pharmacy on the counter

"Well, i got tylenol, ibprophen and even some icy hot and vicks..... I didnt know what was causing the headache so i just grabbed what i use for different ones" I studied him for a moment.... "You sure you're ok? You freaked me out"

He looked at me with a sad expression "Yeah...im really sorry Ali...i dont know what happened. I feel like an asshole" he stared at the ground. I stepped toward him and put my hand on his shoulder. "Hey. I told you not to apologize anymore. All is forgiven. I just want to make sure youre ok Jack. Thats all that matters..ok?" He looked up, his blue eyes staring into mine and nodded. "Yeah...okay" he sighed and relaxed.

The he looked me up and down "what the hell are you wearing?" He laughed

I looked down, suddenly remembering the clothes in the bag on the table and the fact that i had my dress on. Blushing i laughed "Well. I was on my way to get a drink when you called.....i brought some clothes to change into.. I look dumb i know, i just didnt want to take the time to change' He looked down at my feet "were you going to wear your converse to the bar??" He said teasingly.

I laughed "No! I had heels on, but i didnt think you needed to see all that! Shut up!" I said throwing my hands up. Uncomfortable under his gaze all of a sudden. Feeling his baby blues on me

He touched my arm lightly and chuckled "hey. Im sorry. I didnt mean anything by it. Honestly you look great Alison. Ive never seen you dressed up like this"

I stared at my feet for a moment, trying to regain composure. "Well. Let me go change. You start eating" i said. Grabbing the bag with my clothes i went into the bathroom and changed.

After eating we sat down and popped in a movie. As it played i watched Jack from the other end of the couch...studying him. He seemed normal....i guess. There was still something off...but maybe hes just getting sick.

I held out the bowl of popcorn wed made and offered it to him. When he didnt notice i took a piece and tossed it at the side of his face

"Huh?! What the hell?" He said. I laughed "dude. You were spaced the hell out!" He grabbed the bowl and then looked at me mischeviously. He got a handful of popcorn and lobbed them at my face, laughing

"Hey! I threw a single piece! Not fair!" I dove over to his side of the couch for the bowl, giggling as he transferred it to his far hand and held it out of reach. "Urghh. Why am i so..short?" I growled as i struggled to reach it.

"Because its fun to play keep away" Jack laughed. I tried to get up to steal it but he held me with one arm. "Thats not fair either!" I laughed, collapsing as he poked me in the side. I looked down at him, one arm stretched over the side of the couch with the bowl of popcorn and me pretty much just laying on him....suddenly very aware of my face's proximity to his face...i flushed crimson and sat up and adjusted myself so i was again leaning to the other side of the couch

"Rude. Im ticklish and short...whats your flaw?" I jokingly pouted. He threw his head back and laughed. "You don't have the time or mental space for all my flaws Alison" Jack got up "Ill be right back. I want to make sure the video uploaded right" he walked into his game room, leaving the door cracked open.

After about five minutes i stood up, stretching and went to the kitchen to get a drink. As i was standing there, my back to the living room, i heard...laughter? My head whipped around...that didnt sound like Jack though. It was...weird. I sat my glass on the counter and creeped up to the crack in the game room door.

"Jack....hows the video?" My question was met with silence so i pushed the door open.

Jack sat in the corner of the room, on the floor, back to me with his head in his hands. His head was moving...twitching side to side..

"J-Jack? Are you ok?" I walked slowly to him...suddenly aware of how very silent it was...i couldnt even hear outside nosies....

I reached my hand out and right as i was about to grab his shoulder he spoke...pained....like he was fighting with the words.

"Al-Alison....go back to the living room....please....please just go.....just go in there ok? Give me a little bit...Im-Im fine but i need you to go...shut the door....please ali"

I shrunk back...he sounded almost desperate. "Jack. Please...let me help you...if youd just tell me what's wrong...."

He laughed bitterly "No. I need to be alone on this...please just go....and....do one other thing?" he sounded serious. I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to jerk him up and find out what was going on.

"What is it?" I asked softly.

"Ali.....just remember..no matter what i say when i get like this .. I love you. Ok? I dont say it enough but i do. You're always there for me " i stood there...replaying his words, my heart hammering in my chest as he suddenly bent further down, face almost touching the floor and grabbing his head. I ran out of the door and shut it, my hand lingering as i wispered "i love you too......"

I sat looking at my phone, trying to distract myself. It buzzed with a new message. It was from my cousin Jennifer.

J: Hey cousin. What're you up to??"

Me: Nothing. Over at the apartment Jack's renting while hes in LA. You

J:Nm. Ooooooo Jack huh? You ever admit to yourself, or him, what a major crush you have on him? Or still in denial?

Me:Jen! No. And im never telling him that! Its fuckin weird. He's my best friend and thats it

J: whatever. You know, you just need to grab him by the shirt and lay one on him. I bet yall would be down and dirty in two seconds

Me: omfg Jen. Im done with you lmfao. Jesus. Dirty ass mind

J: Yeah. Like you haven't daydreamed about him saying your name in that cute little accent in the bedroom. But seriously....say something. Youll never know till you do

Me: yeah ok. Thanks Dr Phil.

I put my phone down, laughing at her. Then looked up when i heard the game room door open. Jack stepped out, looking as though hed been through a war.

"Jack!" I just up and hurried to him. Wrapping an arm around his waist i led him to the couch. "Sit your ass down. And tell me whats going on" i demanded as we sat on the couch.

He looked at me, his blue eyes searching mine. "Alison. There are some things i never want you to deal with....and that is one of them" i reached my hand out, cupping his face. "Jack. Youre my best friend. And i swear to you Im here. No matter whats going on...ok?" He nodded and closed his eyes, leaning his head to the side trapping my hand to his shoulder.

He suddenly looked up. Almost....frightened.

"Jack?" I said quietly. He turned toward me.... Everything became very still, his head twitched to the side. "Damnit" he whispered, standing quickly. This time i followed him as he walked away.

"Oh no. We aint doing this shit again. What the hell is happening" i demanded. He suddenly stopped at the closed bedroom door and i ran into his back

Jack....c'mon. This isnt funny." I said, angry and little bit terrified

He began to laugh but....it was off. It sounded....higher pitched and crackling. Suddenly he shook his head "No! Leave her alone!!!" He shouted, smacking the side of his head.

"Jack! What the hell!?" His head twitched side to side. I stepped back, the hair on my arms standing up. Something is wrong here. I reached out slowly, touching his shoulder and in a whisper choked out "Ja--Jack?"

Suddenly i was being twisted and thrown backwards against the wall, his hand at my throat, head hanging to his chest. "Jack!" I screamed. "WHAT ARE YOU----"

My words died in my throat as he raised his head, his beautiful blue eyes had been replaced by emotionless black. His head cocked to the side as he grinned evily at me.. Teeth seeming longer

"Alison" the thing purred "Dont you know when someone says to leave them alone. .you should? You know the saying about the cat and curiosity dont you kitten?" All color drained from my face

"An--anti? What. How?" I stammered. Not believing this" he got rid of you....you were gone!

The demon threw his head back and laughed. "Oh Ali....you think this...weakling could kill ME? You think id be defeated by your BOY?" He spit out mockingly, his grasp tightening on my throat. "Jack and i. We are the same person. Without me, theres no him" he giggled that insane laugh again. Id only ever heard it in videos....it was so much worse in real life

"Anti. Hes NOTHING like you. Hes pure good. Strong, smart and successful. Youre just a glitched out bitch that has become a joke. Your angry turtle voice isnt going to scare me. Show me something worthwhile or get the hell out!"

His gaze locked onto mine, it felt as though he was staring deep into my soul.....then he smiled, the grin sinister.

He leaned right into my face, waving the knife that was in his other hand and running it gingerly down my arm. "Should i leave a few more scars? Im a bit more well learned in this than Brandon was though Princess.....i bet my scars will run deeper..maybe ill let Jack watch as i cut you.. I think hed enjoy it" he growled. I stiffened at his words.

"Anti. Youre nothing like him. Youre not even HALF the man Jack is' i spit out, pissed off and scared. He studied me for a moment and leaned over into my ear. His breath hot on my neck

"You think hes just so perfect? Such a good boy?" He purred into my ear "i just want to cut you....to make you feel pain. Him? He wants you to enjoy it when he hurts you" his knife traced my side as he spoke. " They say Im from hell and some of the things in his head when hes around you almost make me blush" the words came out half amused and half disgusted. He leaned back and laughed, the sound twisted and distorted. "Hes a pussy. Cant even do anything about this.....he couldnt even save you from Brandon...and he reallllly wanted to let me loose that day. Had him against the wall and everything" The glitch laughed darkly

"And now. He gets to watch while i kill you.....i might even let him back to reality after so he can feel your blood on his hands" Antisepticeye giggled again.

"Jack! I need you to wake up.....i need you to fight this! Please!" I pleaded, searching for any sign of him in the abyss that his eyes had become. "Jack!!!" I raised my hand and slapped him almost instinctively.

All of a sudden he fell to his knees. Clutching his head. "Aghhhhh!!!" His yell ripped from his throat, the sound of torture.

"Jack. Fight him! Please!!!! " i dropped to my knees in front of him and grabbed his face in ny hands. When i forced him to look at me his right eye shown that beautiful blue color...the other still black. "Jack. Come on. Please. You can do this. Please come back! I didnt tell you i love you too!! You have to come back so i can tell you!!"

I began to sob as he fell to the floor, jerking and holding his head, cries of pain eminating from deep within.

And suddenly.....he was still.

I reached for him, still on my knees. "Jack?" I said softly as i touched him. I rolled him over. His eyes were closed and he was too still for a long moment

Then he coughed. I sank to the side, butt hitting the ground and sighed. He half sat up and looked at me. Both eyes the most beautiful shade of blue id ever seen

We stood up and after a moment he looked at me. "Alison....oh my God. Your neck..." I looked at him "My neck?! Thats what youre going to comment on??!?" I half yelled incredulously. "Really?! Not the fact that Anti has been screwing with you??? You didnt think we needed to know?!"

Jack stepped closer to me, fingers trailing my throat....tracing the sore spots left by anti's hand. "Im so sorry....i didnt mean to...i.... Oh God whats happening to me?! He cried out.

I stepped forward and buried my face in his chest hugging him tightly. Both of us crying.

"Jack.....i almost lost you." I whispered.

"He almost killed you Alison......that asshole almost......and i couldnt stop him! How fuckin useless am i? He cried out

I stepped back and looked at him and then held him tightly. "Jack. You didnt do anything wrong " i said

"It was MY hand around your throat Ali!!!" He yelled as he pushed away. "Dont you get it? I stay so far away so i dont end up hurting anyone." He turned his back to me, wiping his face and walked to the bedroom.

I followed him and sat beside him on his bed. Silence stretched out. Neither of us knowing what to say. Then he spoke "I cant believe i threw you into a wall and choked you..."

I laughed and before my brain could filter my words i said "Oh cmon....it wasnt that bad. I mean, if not for the whole Anti posessing you thing it wouldve been kinda hot!".... Then realizing what i said i fell backwards and just laughed, soon he was laughing his ass off right next to me. "What the ACTUAL FUCK Alison!!???" He sputtered, the fuck sounding more like FOOK in his accent, as he laughed more. "I dont fuckin know. I was almost choked out by a demon glitch Jack!" I shot back through my laughs.

Soon the laughter died and i sat up. Taking a deep breath...Suddenly he grabbed my hand and said softly.. "Did you mean it?"

I looked at him. "Did i mean what?" I asked. He looked down at the floor and then spoke as he raised his gaze to meet mine "When you said you loved me......did you mean it?

I stared at the ground a long while...then stood up fidgeting with my hands and i walked back across the room, putting my back to him as i spoke

"I-i....mean..." I sighed hard and just let the words out "Yeah. Ive always meant it when i said it Jack.... For the last three years." I heard him stand and walk up behind me. "Well alison....you couldve said something." He said softly

I laughed and turned to face him "Yeah. Let me just tell my best friend that somewhere along the way i fell for him. Let me open myself up to THAT rejection. Ha! No. Thanks im good with that." He studied my face intently, then reached up and pushed my hair behind my ear and cupping my chin

"What kinda of an idiot would reject you?" He asked softly and then said "well....ok im an idiot for not noticing.....but not that big of an idiot. I have my limits you know..' and with that leaned his face down and pressed his lips to mine. The world stopped for a minute, and then i wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back as he pulled me against him.

When he pulled back we were both breathless "Jack....." I said and then stopped. Not knowing what to say so i leaned against his chest. Wrapping my arms under his to hold him. His hands trailed up and down my back as we stood there, completely comfortable in our slience.

He sharted shaking and laughing again out of no where. I stepped back and he shook his head "Sorry. Sorry. Just what you said earlier... I cant believe that came outta your mouth!"

Putting my hands on my hips i glared at him playfully "you just haaad to go a ruin a great moment didnt ya!" Then i started laughing too.

He put his hands on my shoulders "Ali...hon. Im sorry its just hilarious hearing you say that! Dirty minded much?" Then he stopped and very slowly stepped closer and closer to me until my back hit the wall softly and he stared me down with a serious look.

"J-Jack?? Very funny. Ha ha. Stop it"

He smiled. His blue eyes twinkling. "What? I just wanted you to have a better memory of being backed into a wall by me is all" his hand softly pressed to my throat as his mouth captured mine again, more urgent this time, pressing his body to mine. Softly but in control of my every move.

[mysticmysterywrites-blog]

Prompt #6

Hey, so this prompt ended up being over 2000 words. I'm telling you now, you absolutely do not have to match it. Like, you can choose to. This is something you can choose to do! But I'm not going to force you to, because I'm 9/10 not gonna match this fuckers length again for a good long time.

Anyway!

I'm kinda hoping for a male character as a reply? The character I'm writing is like, 100% homo of the sexual, and he absolutely fuck with your character a few times while they're traveling. That said, if you really want to play a female character, I'm not that hard to convince (being the massive fucking gay that I am). But also, might end up needing to wipe the romantic aspect from it!

At least w/ Kimon, anyway. His brothers fair game to all genders.

Real fast. Kimon and Thales are human twins, the first being a bard and the second a wizard. They have darker skin, with red-brown hair and brown eyes. Kimon keeps his styled a bit shorter, and sticks to wearing lots of blacks and greys like the emo fucker he is. Probably best known for playing fantasy My Chemical Romance in the middle of the night. Thales keeps his hair down to about his chest, and dresses up in robes and a barrage of colors and patterns thats insulting to anyone actually trying. He's actually p happy, as a person. And you know, the necromancer.

When he's 5 he trips and cuts his leg on the pointed ocean stones, the sea salt slipping into the wound with each lap of the water

He cries and cries and cries, letting the tears replace the ocean mist on his face. His mother eventually notices his screams and comes rushing over to check on him, but his brother watches the way the blood falls from his wound, eyes wide in facination, hand gripping his in an attempt to comfort him.

The memory is eventually forgotten with time, but the fascination is not, and the two of them take very different paths in life.

~~

He starts learning the piano when he's 7, takes fascination in the way that it sounds and feels. Every touch of a new key is a new feeling of wonder and excitement, Eventually, he takes excitement in the way that the lights around him glitter and dance, turning to the tune of the piano. He gets caught like that, playing to lights that shouldn't be there.

His mother is hesitant, of course. Bards are well known for their love of travel, for never standing in one place. Their father was like that. Always wanting to travel and move, always wanting to explore the world. It got him killed, and screwed her leg up, and she didn't want that for her baby boys. She wanted them to live a comfortable, cushiony life. Something boring. Something safe.

However, eventually she relents. He's not a particularly happy child (and hell, even as an adult is admittedly not the tellitubbies sun.) But playing against the piano always made him smile, and she loves when he smiles.

Over the years, He learns to master the piano, and then the violin, then the flute, then the guatar, and even the harp. Always falls back to the piano, but finds just as much enjoyment in every other instrument he learns. Violin offers him the most mobility, however, and mobility eventually offers him places amongst parties of adventurers or caravans.

His brother studies book after text next to him, humming along to the songs he plays time and time again, and eventually is rewarded a stave for his troubles.

~

They leave home when they're 16.

It's a hard choice to make. Admittedly, they have a rather comfortable life. Their mother has money and resources. Earned her place amongst nobility, rather then born. She knows who to talk to, and how to talk to them, and as a result they all live comfortable lives.

But he wants to travel, and his brother is running out of books to study from. He craves knowledge, craves digging deeper into magic he shouldn't have access to. He doesn't understand it, at the time. He, personally, just wants to tell stories. Learn other people stories. Wants to learn stories that have been passed down time and time again, and pass them onto other people.

But his brother wants knowledge, the kind hidden behind lock and key deep in temples and forgotten cities.

And forgotten cities have some pretty damn kick-ass stories to tell.

~~

When they're younger, there's this tiefling girl that comes to their house a lot.

Her names Laelia, and she has this absolutely gorgeous purple skin, and big horns that crook and curve down, following the curve of her back and curl of her black hair. Her eyes are a bright green color, and fingers and teeth are sharp and shinning. She scares his brother, at first. But, Their mother welcomes her with open arms, speaks curses of the girl's parents and their dismissal. Sometimes, she stays for months on end before her parents remember she exists, come and claim her once again.

But she always end up back at their house, and their mother teaches her how to stalk around in the shadows, how to take full advantage of the smallest blade. Her sons might have been magic users, but the girl becomes her daughter, and she gladly passes on her techniques to her as she would a child of her own blood.

She travels with them for a while. She grows close to dying three times, then meets a small group

Her last words to him weren't a goodbye. She didn't believe in goodbyes, whatever that meant. She believed that the word was "Kimon, watch out for your brother," she'd tell him, placing her hands on his shoulder and glancing over at him, "he's getting into some things that are far outside his payroll, if you get what I'm throwing down."

He raised an eyebrow, and at the time he didn't understand. She could see that, he thinks. So, she just sighs and mutters.

"Its- nevermind. Just focus on keeping yourself safe, babe," and then she'd smack him on the back of the head, and turn to walk away. ~~

They find the first book in a temple hidden away, seemingly lost to time itself. Its made of stone and gold, the shine of the metal seeming to dance through the cracks of the stone. Light struggles to make its way inside, and Thales lights their path with a small flame, just in front of the two of them.

Theres a skeleton in the middle of the floor, a body as forgotten as the temple, and stains that even sink into the cracks of the floor. They ignore it, and go about shuffling through the books and notes the deceased wizard had left behind.

Thales thumbs through it with fascination glinting in his eyes and mouth opening and shutting about every now and again. "It's powerful stuff," he mutters, mostly to himself, "I don't know if I've ever seen anything like it."

They spend over a month there, as his brother copies spell after spell down. He doesn't mind, because he's spent three months in towns writing down stories and local fables. But it still worries him, the way his fingers linger over the necromancy books for so long.

~~

There's this girl they meet.

She's beautiful. Hair large, curly. Pure white against a nice tan. She dresses in pinks and whites, carries around a hammer larger then she is. Her skin is callous around her fingers, eyes are brighter then ocean water, and she has a laugh he thinks he could play a song to.

Kimon likes her well enough. Thales falls for her immediately.

The sound of her spine snapping is somehow both memorizing, and sickening.

~~

His cat brings him a little dead bird one day. It's feathers are pulled out and it's guts are destroyed, and the little bastard looks so pleased with himself over it. He grumbles and goes to clean it up, but his brother snatches up the job before he has the chance. Whatever. He's always been a fucking weirdo.

He doesn't think much of it. Wizards were just kind of like that. Maybe he needed the bones, or the feathers. Maybe it was some rare kinda bird, or maybe he just liked the look of the thing. He wasn't one to judge, he supposed.

He comes back three days later, holds up the bird, fluttering and chirping and as happy as could be.

"Kimon," he tells him, hope barely stinging through his voice, "I think I could bring her back."

~~

His brother leaves in the middle of the night, one night, and he doesn't bother coming back. Doesn't leave a note, doesn't say goodbye. He just fuckin' leaves, like the goddamn jackass he is. His anger is replaced by worry only when, two years later, he hears stories of a necromancer causing trouble on a snowy mountain.

~~

There's a few times where he's wrong

There's a few times where he joins a party chasing after a necromancer, only for them to stumble across a cult, or some other dumbass wizard in over their head on the concept of their own power. He doesn't feel bad, helping to bring their end. He doesn't have a connection to them, doesn't feel the pain they do. But it's disappointing everytime. He wants to find his brother, wants to know hes okay.

But he almost always ends up jumping from the party, after they're done.

He meets up with Laelia's party again, travel with them to some sea side town he knows he's been to but doesn't remember the name of. He doesn't tell them about his brother, knows the looks Laelia gives him when he asks are knowing and worried.

They stop at a little in, one thats run down and near abandoned, but has maybe some of the best fries he's tastes in years. He preforms for them to snag them a free room, and thats where he meets them.

They're different. He doesn't know why, but they feel different. He lingers around for a bit, listens to the way they speak and the tales they spin. It might be eaves dropping, to a small degree, but he finds himself so inticed by their words that he doesn't care.

He only approaches them after they tell the tale of a necromancer they've taken down, and how they plan to hunt down another one sometime soon. "I hear you're going after a necromancer," the words feel foreign, sour on his tongue, despite the fact that he's said them time and time over, "Up north, right? How much are you paying?"

And then he separates from Laelia's party once more, to fall in line with them.

~~

He sleeps with them about three times, overall

The first time was excusable. They were both drunk, and he was admittedly touch starved. Every moment their hand lingered against his arm, it shot a feeling of euphoria up into his side, made him see lights he didn't know existed. He tried to play his instrument that night, but the cords were sloppy, and tune was off, and all he succeeded in doing was making them laugh. And hell, their laughter was gorgeous. Waking up the next day curled into their side hadn't been surprised, but he found he couldn't care as much as he should have with a hang over.

The second time wasn't as easily excusable, so much as it was stupidity. Theres this dance they go to, you see. Need to get all dressed up for it, know how to slow dance and eat finger foods and shit. They need to get in and steal a book from the man running the party, something of an easy task. They're talking in private, somewhere quiet, more like arguing, when the doors open. He thinks too fast, doesn't think through his plan. All he knows is that they have papers, books that they shouldn't, and that could be anyone. He slams his lips down onto theirs, lets them linger as the intruders startle, then pass. Flustered, but not knowing any better as to what they've obtained. And they don't bother separating, at least for the night. They're both touch starved, both angry.

The third time? There was no excuse. Nothing he could blame it on. They'd been sitting out by the camp fire, as he plucked gently at the strings of his instrument and played a quiet tune. It was just the two of them, party members be damned. It was cold. They were both tired, both hungry. They'd move closer together, quietly- gratefully- taking in the warmth of the other body heat. He'd bitch at them for ruining the tune of the song he was playing, and they'd laugh at him for it. He'd place his head on their shoulder, place his violin down. Move closer. Kiss them.

They end up in his tent, and he ends up with cricks all up his back, and half a regret from the night earlier.

~~

He tells himself not to get too attached to them. They're a means to an end, nothing more, nothing less.

But Dammit.

He likes them

~~

Theres tubes, filled with green liquid he can't really see through fully, but can see enough through to make out the form of a person.

The basement becomes colder, especially as he hears familiar humming deeper in it.

~~

He would have slept with them more, is the thing.

But despite being a bard, he can't seduce to save his fucking life, and they always shuffle away when he gets close. So he doesn't, and they move on with their lives.

~~

There's this little cabin tucked away in the mountains that they stumble across. While it appears abandoned at first, it's worn and well loved on the interior, Ash and dust having collected, just as much as footsteps and food have. There's evidence of someone living there, but not evidence of there currently being someone THERE.

They find a door under a rug, and that's where they hit gold.

~~

They travel together for at least a year.

They have a tendency to get, well. Sidetracked, is the thing. A small quest here leads to a bigger quest there, and suddenly something that should have only taken three months at most is taking a year to get done. Its an easy pattern to fall into. They're the first person he's felt compelled to stay around in a while, and he doesn't mind getting dragged off to do the next big thing.

Still. He worries what will happen, in the end.

~~

He makes a choice he decides not to regret.

He changes his target.

He's always been good at adding buffs. He plays on the defensive, prefers not to get hit. But it's hard. It's hard to concentrate on protecting both teams. He doesn't want his brother dead, and his brother doesn't want to die, which makes him terrifying. Thales always had a good grasp on magic, and watching him use it against them turns his heart cold.

He could tell that his brother, at least, was picking up on something being off, the way he noticeably double takes at him. His mask covers only the base of his face, but his hat covers the rest of it. But he knows his play style is unique, knows his brother has watched him cast spells with his magic almost his entire life. He notices, about half way through, how Thales backs off. Opens his mouth to say something. Gets himself knocked out as a result of it.

The shriek of the violin stops the battle in it's tracks, and he's turning his heel as his brother falls to the ground. Passed out, he tells himself. He's hurt and bloody and tired, but his brother is only passed out. He looks over the eyes of the person he's been traveling with for over a year now, the person that sweeps his feet out from under him and plays with his heart.

He's not sure if what he feels is love, or lust, but it doesn't change the fact that he's pointing a knife at them.

"Let me make this very clear," he raises the bow of his violin up, something he liked to think was a little more threatening due to the curve of the end being sharpened, due to them having watched him fight time and time again, "If you touch him, any farther, I- I will kill you. Even you can't be /that/ fuckin stupid. Step OFF."

[baelllamyblake]

RED QUEEN ( Bellamy Blake x Reader )

Pairing : Bellamy Blake X Reader

Word Count : 2,995

Warnings : the 100 season 5 spoilers, blood mention, nothin too bad

A/N : its been a hot minute since I've wrote a fanfic & i plan to to make this into a multi parter or a series ?? theres no bellamy x reader just yet but I'm hoping to get enough feedback to proceed with a part 2 ! so pleeeease leave some feedback !! i would love it !!

FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED SO FCK ME UP WID IT<3

Once the night the bunker door locked shut, cutting you off from the home you finally felt comfortable in, the weight of the world sat on your shoulders. The Earth was currently simmering in radiation and those who were truly close to you were residing 254 miles in the sky, hopefully living safely in what’s left of the Ark. Illian died in the Conclave and you couldn’t talk to Bellamy either. Your goodbye was over a radio and you have never wanted to kiss someone so badly than during those last few minutes. Now, you’re stuck in an underground bastion, unable to communicate with anyone on the surface.

You never expected to become the babysitter of 1,200 grounders but you guess the responsibility was assumed when you declared everyone was allowed in the bunker. Hell, if you had known how troublesome trying to unify all the tribes into Wonkru, you would’ve left them outside like Luna planned too if she won the conclave. Yet, you had already said Wonkru was welcome into the bunker and you definitely couldn’t take it back now. You slouched in the chair Jaha once sat in when he first took over the bunker, expelling out a heavy sigh. This was going to be the next six years of your life.

You stared blankly at the papers, blueprints, and documents on the desk in front of you. You wished someone would enter the office, anyone at all, just to break the endless silence. What would Bellamy do if he were here? He probably would’ve laughed at how you were spacing out but he also would’ve stayed quiet just to stare at you a little more. Unfortunately, Bellamy was 254 miles away in the sky, hopefully living safely in what’s left of the Ark. You looked up the concrete ceiling, dreading the fact that you wouldn’t even know if he was looking down on you.

This was going to be a very long six years.

The sound of the doorknob turning instantly shifted your focus to it, a familiar face stepped into the room. He always managed to produce a geniunely warm smile despite everything crumbling around him. You always wanted to know how Kane did it. How he always stayed positive despite everything crumbling to pieces around him.

“ How are you holding up? “ Kane chimed, his grin soon faded into pursed lips. It had been a while since you got a good look at him, his forehead wrinkles deepened a little more and his hair had grown to his shoulders. He deserved a relaxing vacation, trying to save the last fraction of the human race was taking a toll on him. It was taking a toll on everyone, really.

“ As good as any person can be during an apocalypse. “ You jived playfully, attempting to lighten the dreary mood and create a space of fake comfort. Kane breathed out a small chuckle before plopping into a nearby chair, his arms crossed firmly against his chest. Kane’s eyes spoke of a silent sadness as he drifted off in deep thought. “ What are you thinking about? “

“ How far we’ve come, how much we’ve all changed. How much we’ve gone through, how much we’ve lost along the way. “ Kane huffed out, his eyes blinking back into reality. Your mind flashed back to the beginning, all the repressed memories floating along like a raging river. The delinquent’s camp, Trikru, and Mount Weather felt like it happened only yesterday. Where did all the time go?

Never once in all your years of being alive would you have thought to being a leader. You were just looking for that outlet to finally get out from under the floor and out into the open where you were free to do whatever you wanted.

“ It’s best not to dwell on the past. Showing sentiment is weakness. “ You stated bluntly, earning a loud snort out of Kane. “ I don’t recall saying something funny. “

“ Sorry, I’m just realizing how much you’ve changed, Y/N. “ He replied with a grin curling on his lips. Kane’s eyes maintained that weird twinkle, it reminded you of the eyes of a dreamer. They desperately held on to whatever shred of hope of was left, regardless of whatever was happening. “ You’ve grown up, kid. Last time I really got a good look at you, you were a dedicated warrior, simply looking for their place in life. Now, you’re a skilled leader who saved all our asses out of the kindness of your heart when you could’ve chose few or none at all. “

“ Well, let’s be glad that I was in a good mood that day. “ You politely brushed Kane’s reflection of you away with a small smile. The last thing you wanted to do was open old wounds, you already had enough of them to last you more than a lifetime. “ But thank you, I appreciate your kind words. “

“ Alright, I’ll get out of your hair, kid. Just wanted to check up on you. “ Kane spoke contently as he heaved himself off the armchair. Kane could sense that you were beginning to grow uneasy with his presence. He assumed by the slight clenching of your jaw that it was time to leave and attend to other important matters. “ Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all. “

You gave a small nod with a tight lipped smile, waving Kane goodbye as he exited through the white glass doors. You let out yet another heavy sigh, leaning back in the desk chair with eyes to the grey concrete ceiling above. You wondered what Bellamy was doing at the moment, was he having fun? Was he thinking of you too? How were the rest doing? You missed him dearly. The distance was going to drive you batshit crazy.

Miller eyed your every move warily, he held his tights fists just under his eyes. You both paced around the room like short-tempered tigers in a cramped cage. Tired of waiting for him to make the first move, you lunged forward to throw a punch only to have it blocked it by Miller’s forearm while recieving a sharp jab to the ribs. You let out a low grunt of pain as you gripped on his forearm, forcefully shoving a knee into his stomach.

You backed off to catch a breather as you watched Miller double over in pain while his hand gripped where you had kneed him. You lifted your shirt to examine your ribs briefly, it was nothing serious, just a red mark where Miller had jabbed you. Dropping the fabric, you shifted your focus back to Miller. “ Great warmup. Ready for the real thing? “

“ Come at me, Y/N. “ Miller grunted roughly as he forced his torso in an upright position. You grabbed two nearby swords, keeping one while you tossed the other to Nathan. He caught it and gave it a small swing to become familiar with its weight. You smirked deviously as you gripped tightly onto its hilt, immediately charging at Miller without notice. Your sword clashed fiercely, swings and slices were dealt left and right.

While maintaining your guard, you kept your eye out for spots of vulnerability. You swung to the left, urging your brawling partner to duck to avoid having his head chopped clean off. As soon as Miller’s back faced you, you rammed your elbow into his spine. The move shoved him face first to the ground, quickly flipping over to recover from his mistake. Your sword was aimed towards his throat, ready to kill in an instant.

“ Y/N. “ A certain voice drowned out the heavy panting of both you and Nathan, followed by a clearing of her throat. You looked towards your mentor, Indra, standing in the doorway. In her arms, she held the formal garments of Heda. Your eyes flickered from the clothes to Indra, jaw clenching slightly. “ The delegates have assembled. “

“ Dressing me up doesn’t fool anyone. “ You stated bluntly, grasping Miller by the hand to help him up on his feet. Indra took a small step towards you, holding out the fabrics in front of you. You rolled your eyes at the outfit, wiping your sweaty forehead with a towel slung over your shoulder.

“ My blood is red and it always will be. “

“ Symbols matter, Y/N. These symbols. “ Indra insisted firmly, the gear Commander Lexa previously wore sat in her outstretched palm. You wanted to scoff and groan in her face. You were the leader of Wonkru now, why weren’t you allowed to do whatever you wanted? Why should you be restricted to the old traditions “ Trust me. The more people connect you to them, the easier it is for you to lead.

You walked towards the conference room, dressed up in the ridiculous outfit Indra persuaded you to wear. You scanned the bustling halls filled with grounders and materials used around the bunker. You were growing anxious for the meeting, dread already growing throughout your chest. It had only been 46 days since Praimfaya and the delegates were already acting like children. Their problems were offen trivial with simple solutions but they often stuck to their beliefs and unwritten laws.

“ Osleya of Wonkru. “ Niylah chimed contently as she bowed respectfully in your presence. You quickly whispered for your friend to stop, the gesture felt absurd to you. It felt like people singing happy birthday to you but constantly, you had no clue what to do. Do you bow to them too? Have them kiss your pinky ring like some mafia don? Well, whatever you had to do, no one has told you how to do it yet.

“ Look at what I found. “ Niylah spoke sweetly, in her hands was The Illiad. You took it from her slender hands, running your fingers along its old spine and weathered pages. Your mind instantly flashed back to memories of Bellamy relaying some of its stories to you whenever you had trouble sleeping. The nightmares always came back but luckily, Bellamy was always there to lull you back to sleep. “ I heard Bellamy would read you the parts about Ancient Rome. “

“ Thank you. “ You replied sincerely after reading a sentence or two from the front page. Niylah observed you carefully, a warm smile on her face. “ We’re sparring tomorrow. Promise? “ 

Niylah hummed in agreement, her eyes towards Indra closely behind you. You nodded small before resuming your walk to the conference room. Gaia waited patiently in the hall, her eyes pointing sharp daggers towards you. You weren’t a nightblood so you weren’t fit to be in the position of Heda. However, the tension between you two wasn’t anything new. You just didn’t really give a shit anymore.

“ Complain to your mother. “

It was just one problem after another before developing into one headache after another. Rations were dwindling by the second, tribes were on edge, and there was just too many people in the bunker. Everyone had been suggesting solutions to the problem but now was not the time. The delegates complained about a bunch of blankets and then the meeting was completely derailed by a miniscule thunking noise. It was presumed to be Clarke banging on the bunker door but you didn’t really care to find out more information.

However, it didn’t matter anymore because there were much bigger things that needed your attention. Like, a group of Skaikru idiots who have decided to lock themselves inside the cafeteria because they think they are top priority among the grounders and deserve all the resources. You almost wanted to throw up because of how ungrateful these people were being. You didn’t want to kill anyone in these six years but some were really testing how thin your patience could get.

Your grip on leadership was sifting through your fingers like a fine sand. The state of the bunker was chaotic as innocent Skaikru members were being massacred left and right, simply for being associated with the guilty. You were flustered with the fact of being unable to do something about it directly. You would have to sneak past grounders to personally deliver Jaha to a couple of generators on a completely different floor.

“ Are you fucking kidding me? “ You cursed to yourself, checking the pulse of each body sprawled out on the ground. You were hoping some had survived but to no avail, the grounders had killed them all. You couldn’t walk a couple meters without stumbling along groups of dead people, people you knew and ended up growing close too. You were enraged, whoever started this was going to suffer the consequences of their crimes.

Becoming even more frustrated, Jaha refused to open the doors to the cafeteria until you had grasped the reins over Wonkru again and understood what it meant to be a leader. He went as far to mention the floating of your mother to make his point clear. No matter how much you hated to admit it, Jaha was right. Within a matter of sentences, he taught you what it was to be a leader over a population. God, even thought Jaha was dying, he always managed to be so wise. You wanted to hate him but you just couldn’t, Jaha made it so hard!

You were Wonkru or the enemy of Wonkru. It was time to choose.

“ It’s over. “ You gritted angrily into the walkie talkie, eyes focused on only the door. You were covered in the enemy’s blood from head to toe. Rebelling grounders decided to attack you after ignoring your decree of either choosing to be apart of Wonkru or become the enemy of the state. If they didn’t become Wonkru, they were immediatly crushed under your authority. The problem must be eliminated if you were going to keep a strong hold on your people as was said by Jaha himself. “ Open the door. “

Blood was splattered along the floors and walls in an almost artistic fashion. You could stare at it in a museum and call it “ thought-provoking. “ You breathed heavily through your nose, your body and mind craved to off the root of the problem but you had other plans. The door locks clicked open and the grounders flooded into the room with whoops and yells, apprehending anyone they could get their hands on. “ I want only the guilty! “

“ There are too many people in this bunker. And if we don’t do something about this, none of us will survive to see the sun, the sky, the ground, and I won’t let that happen. “ You projected you voice loudly so that every grounder may hear you in each corner of the room. Some looked at you in fear, the blood of their own people dried to your skin. The blood of your enemies was your armor and you made sure everyone knew it. Grounders from all the tribes quickly got out of your way as you dominated the ramp with your aura alone. “ Each of you have committed crimes against Wonkru, and the punishment for this is death. “

Immediately, blacklash broke out after your words. Murmurs and whispers scattered amongst your people. Your hands gripped the railings tightly at the complaints yet you held your tongue. After all, you weren’t done explaining. You looked down on at the guilty kneeling before you, finally feeling a sense of power at the sight. Is this what Lexa felt? You loved it.

“ This isn’t the Ark and this isn’t the ground either. There is no ‘ Blood must have blood. ‘’” You continued to speak, your eyes trained on the those who were kneeling but your words were for all in the room. Everyone was silent, waiting in bated breath for your next sentence. “ In Rome, gladiators had the opportunity to fight for their freedom. “

“ And so will you. “ You stated strongly, unsheating your sword and throwing into the middle. You spoke the rules of the mini conclave, all previous thoughts of no one is going to die under your watch were thrown out the window. This was going to solve the overpopulation problem easily. Weed out the weak and only keep the strong and disciplined. “ Win the fight, save your life. “

As soon as the last word of your sentence rolled off your tongue. Kara lunged for the sword and murdered everyone in the circle because her life depended on it. You were satisfied, onlookers watched in horror, including those who knew you closely. The sudden change in attitude was far too much for them to handle. However, this was going to be the Wonkru way so they had to deal with it or be thrown in the ring.

Six years later, the ring had evolved into a modern day Roman colosseum. It was an old form of entertainment for the grounders that happened almost every day. The metal railings that were once there were replaced with metal fences and barbed wire. The ramps were filled with cheering grounders of Wonkru, their fists banging on the fences generated even more noise that echoed down the halls.

A heavy metallic smell soaked permanently into the concrete walls, a seemingly impossible feat made into reality. Blood became the new carpet and wallpaper. Deadly weapons of different sizes were the new home decorations. Only one piece of furniture was in the room: your elaborate throne backlit with a daunting red.

Kane was shoved roughly into the ring, the crowd erupted into jeers and cheers. His shoes waded shallowly in the puddle created by the bloody of his peers. All he could think of was where did everything go wrong? He held his hand over his eyes to avoid being blinded by the floodlights. Kane made eye contact with you looking down upon him like you did with thebvery first of the guilty. You towered over him, countenance void of any emotion. Your guards, advisors, and friends reflected the same energy you emitted.

You were no longer Osleya but a ruthless Blodreina.

[kpurereactions]

Im Here (PROLOUGE)

A/N: HERE IS IT FINALLY THE SECOND PART TO IM YOURS! I was planing on having this up weeks ago, but I got wrapped up in She Boss. Now that theres some of you once again asking for a part two of Im Yours Ive said fuck it, lets do it. So here it is, a little catch up for the new story, 

 Im Home. 

Pairing: Jaebum x Reader Rating: Drama, Angst, Smut, Fluff WARNINGS: Language, Eventual Violence, Lots of Smut Later on

FIND PART ONE HERE

| Prologue |

“Just stop me when it gets to be too much, Okay?” Jaebum said sitting down. He had brought you into the conference room two days after you returned and sat you down at the head of the long mahogany table. Down both sides lined the six boys who had been taking care of you since you had returned. You nodded and brought the blanket that always seemed to be wrapped around you tighter around your shoulders, your hands instantly moving to rub the raw patch of flesh on the patch of skin between your pointer finger and thumb. 

“Just tell me.” You said. Your voice was still very sore and sitting up still hurt from the stab wound that had reopened one too many times. “And no lying.”

“Well you already know the most of it.” Jaebum sighed, you had a right to be angry. 

“And you've seen some of the worst of it.” Jackson chimed in earning him a kick in the shin by Youngjae. 

“I guess can I just ask questions then?” You had asked looking over to Jaebum who nodded slowly. 

“Do you guys... Whats the most illegal thing you've done?” You asked. You knew it was a broad question but you were curious about the answer they'd come up with. 

“Murder, I guess.” Jackson said, once again getting another kick to the shin. 

“Have all of you murdered?” You asked timidly. 

“Usually BamBam did that but we all have at one point.” Jinyoung said. 

His name made you shiver, you couldn't deal with the color red anymore let alone hear his name out loud. The conversation ended there when you stood up and brushed past Jaebum going back to the room you had been held up in. 

It had been three months since you had that conversation, and thankfully for everyone you were moving forward, not backwards. That is as long as he wasn't mentioned. The scar that had been etched into your skin had turned into something ugly, and was almost unrecognizable as the dragon that was once there. You had a few mental break downs about it, the thought of being marked by someone made your skin crawl and the only way to stop you from tearing your hand completely apart was Jaebum swaddling you in his arms. 

There was also the scar on your stomach. That was the one that looks the worst. It was deep and with the amout of times it had torn open you were surprised the scar wasn't bigger then it already was. It made you sad. Not because it  was a reminder of the friend you once had who betrayed you, but because whenever Jaebum’s eyes met the purply risen flesh he'd fall to his knees and press his head against your stomach while whispering softly about never again.

The terrors were often, even though they had definitely slowed down since you returned. They went from waking you up in the morning sweating and crying to day dreaming about seeing the dead man who's blood coated your cheek as you laid face to face on the concrete floor. Now it wasn't so bad. Sleeping with Jaebum helped tremendously. It helped so much that you need up just moving in. You had your own room incase you ever needed to get a way, but every night you spent wrapped in Jaebum with everything Jaebum surrounding you. He was your home, and he couldn't be happier about it. 

Even though physically you were more torn up then he was, emotionally he was on the same level as you were. Just the few weeks you were away from him sent him in such a downward spiral even the boys were able to catch on. The first week you were back he never once let you go. If he had a meeting you would be there with him, sitting on his lap or in a chair right next to him and his hand never left you. Just like you never left his site. 

Which is how you became his voice of reason. 

At first all the mafia talk scared you, you didnt know what to think about all the guns and drugs and death that was being so easily talked about, but as the weeks moved on you started to get braver to speak up when you think they were being too much of a butt hurt boy to think rationally. More then a few times you saved their asses from disaster, so you took it upon yourself to embrace the bad that had happened instead of coward from it.

Every other day you spent with Jackson and maybe one or two of the other boys practicing various types of self defense, which also was helping you recover from being taken. 

Now you were at a point where you were genuinely happy. You had overcome possibly the worst thing that would ever happen to someone and you were still standing here, smiling and making food for 6 men every morning and night.

You were exactly where you wanted to be and there was no one who could tell you other wise. 

[hotsterfield]

Perfect Peter Parker - Peter Parker

Word count: 1879

Request:

Aron; 2,8 & 9 with Parker pleeeease 💕💕💕

2.     "Why is there a guy passed out in the bathtub?"

8.     "I swear I didn't kill him!"

9.     "I get it. You're a superhero. No need to be a dick about it"

Masterlist | Promptlist

A/N; THERE’S ONLY 9 DAYS TILL CHRISTMAS!! Which also means that theres only 4,5 days left till i have to turn in my project, and Holy cow i am getting nervous now. So i am really looking forward to turning it in, and then celebrating the holiday! 

As the daughter of Tony Stark, you lived with the Avengers. It was a lot fun, until everyone left for a mission. Your dad wouldn’t let you join, because it was too dangerous. Because being his daughter was a lot safer than being a superhero.

It’s not like anyone tried to kidnap you, because your dad was rich. Or try to kidnap you, because you’re Iron Man’s weak spot. Or even try to kill you, because of who your father was. It was super safe being his daughter.

So here you were. Alone in the Stark tower. Your father had asked Peter Parker to come babysit you, even though you were the same age, but since he was Spider-Man, he was more grown than you apparently. You liked Peter, he was nice, but at the same time you were so jealous of him. He had all of your father’s attention, and sometimes Tony barely noticed you. Tony wasn’t exactly home a lot, so of course it upset you, when he decided to spend all of his time at home with someone else’s kid.

To put it nicely, you weren’t fond of the idea of Peter babysitting you. You didn’t need a babysitter. You were perfectly fine on your own, and you could protect yourself. So when there was a strange sound coming from one of the room, you were on guard.

You took an umbrella from the hallway, and made your way towards the room. When you opened the door, you found a masked man dressed in black. As soon as he saw you, he ran towards you, and you backed out to the living room.

Before he got too close to you, you swung the umbrella at his side, surprising him, giving you enough time to get a punch in. Unfortunately, he was prepared for your hit, and it hardly affected him. He pulled out a knife, and you held on to the umbrella even tighter.

“Stupid little girl. You don’t have to make this so hard on yourself” The man said, as he crept closer to you, the knife steady in his hand. You kept backing up, and it didn’t take long before you hit a wall.

Franticly you looked around, trying to find a way out, but before you had had a chance to think, you could feel the cold metal on your cheek. You looked up at the man, who was now standing centimetres from you, dragging the knife from your cheek to your neck.

“Now. You can either just go with me, and I won’t hurt you, or we can do this the hard way” He warned, and you started to feel sick. You gave him weak nod, and he moved the knife away from you, to take some rope out of one of his many pockets.

As soon as the knife was away, you kicked his wrist, sending the knife flying across the room. The man managed to grab your ankle, making you lose your balance. With all the force you could gather, you swung the umbrella at his neck, taking him by surprise, making his loosen the grip on your ankle. You didn’t waste a second, and quickly placed your hands on the wall for support, as you kicked him in the crotch, making him whip in pain. As he was gathering himself, you grabbed the frying pan, on a nearby table, and hit him in the back of the head, causing him to pass out on the floor.

You didn’t know what to do, so you started dragging him towards the bathroom. He was heavy, and it didn’t take long before you lost your breath. You walked to the kitchen sink, and turned your back against the man, as you got a glass of water.

“Hey Y/n” You heard Peter voice say as he got out of the elevator. “Oh shit. Y/N get down!” He suddenly yelled, and as you looked over your shoulder, you saw the man standing, knife in his hand again. You didn’t have time to react, before he threw the knife at you, and you felt a sharp pain in your shoulder.

It didn’t take long before Peter had the man webbed up, and just like you had done, Peter knocked him out with the frying pan. Trying to get a hold of the situation, Peter took the man into the bathroom. The door was open, so you could see that he was webbing him in the bathtub, making sure it was impossible for him to get up.

You looked down on your shoulder. Your white shirt was starting to turn red. The knife had flown past you, but it had still left a rather deep cut. As Peter come out to you, he was quick to get the first aid kid.

“Are you okay?” He asked, as he walked to you.

“I’m fine” You said coldly.

“Here. Let’s get you cleaned up” He smiled, as he carefully dried the blood off of your cheek, before he gently pulled up your shirt sleeves, to reveal your shoulder.

“I can do this myself, you know. I really don’t need you to help me. I was perfectly fine till you got here” You told him, as he started cleaning the wound.

“Yeah. It looked like you had the situation completely under control. I’m just glad that I arrived when I did, because you could gotten hurt pretty badly. You realize that, right?” Peter said in an annoyed tone.

“I don’t need you to save me. I can fight on my own! I don’t need you around, so why don’t just go home to your aunt, and leave me alone” You hissed, as he fixed your shoulder.

“I’m very sorry that I saved you, it’s my fault really” He said sarcastically. “I’m a superhero, it’s what I do. Usually people are happy when they get help, so what the hell is your problem?”

“Right, I’m sorry. Thank you sooo much for saving me” You could be sarcastic as well, and you were going to be.

“What have I ever done to you?! I’ve tried being nice to you, for so long, but you’ve hated me from the start! I’m sick of it. You hate me, and I don’t know why. I just saved your ass, and you’re still being… Well a bitch” Peter said frustrated, as he closed the first aid kit.

“I was fine before you got here! My dad has never been home a lot, I was raised by nannies. But when he finally was at home, he would spend his time with me. Then you showed up. Some stupid kid from Queens suddenly becomes so much more important than his own daughter. Even when you’re not here, he can’t shut up about how hard you work. How many people you saved. So I get it. You’re a superhero. No need to be a dick about it too” You said angrily, as you got up and started walking towards your room.

Before you could get very far, you felt something sticky on your wrist, and you felt Peter pulling you back.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you felt that way. No wonder you don’t want me here. Is there anything I do to make it better?” He said sincerely, but you were still high on adrenalin and too angry to realize this.  

“You can go suck my non-existing dick, for all I care” You said, as you ripped the web off of your wrist, and walked to your room. You slammed the door shut, and threw yourself on the bed.

You knew that you should be glad Peter came in time, because you could’ve gotten hurt, but you were just so angry. Not necessarily at him, but at your dad. You wanted to be able to take care of yourself, and you almost did, but you messed up, and the perfect Peter Parker had to save the day.

Peter didn’t know whether to go after you, or leave you alone. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized why you hated him sooner. Not even Tony Stark could be two places at once, and he had been helping Peter a lot. Peter had never considered that it took Tony’s time away from you, his daughter.

He felt bad, knowing why you had put on the attitude towards him. He hadn’t realized that it was just your defence mechanism. Your way to protect yourself from getting hurt.

It didn’t take long, before the Avengers returned. It didn’t take long before there was a knock on your door, and your father walked in.

“Hi y/n. Why is there a guy passed out in the bathtub? I’m sure there’s a good reason. I’m just curious” You dad greeted you.

“Why don’t you ask Peter? Because obviously I couldn’t defend myself, so Peter had to, so I’m sure he can explain it all to you” You said, while looking up at your dad. When he saw the cut on your face, a worried expression overtook his face.

“What happened? Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” He asked concerned. “Peter was late, wasn’t he? This shouldn’t have happened. He should’ve been here, to protect you. Peter!”

“Heeey, Tony. Mr. Stark. If this is about the guy in the bathtub, I swear I didn’t kill him! I just knocked him out” Peter said, after he had arrived at your door. You could see your dad was about to scold Peter for being late.

“Dad, don’t. Peter did what he was supposed to do. He saved my ass, when I screwed up. I had the guy knocked out before he got here. I turned my back to him for a second, and he… Then Peter showed up, and handled the situation. It’s not Peter fault, that I screwed up. Peter is perfect as always” You sighed.

“You. Had the guy knocked out?” Tony asked, not really believing you.

“Yeah. I can actually defend myself, if you would just let me try. Or maybe, if you just spent a fraction of the time with Peter, with me, then maybe you would know that. Or, maybe you could even train me, so you didn’t have to hire a babysitter every time you leave” You looked stubbornly at your dad, as you waited for him to say something.

“And then what? You want to do what? Become a superhero? Because I really don’t think that’s a good idea” Peter quietly backed away, as Tony talked to you.

“Maybe I just want to be able to protect myself! If Peter hadn’t come, I would properly have gotten hurt seriously. I don’t want to depend on others to protect me. It’s not exactly safe being the daughter of a superhero” You said, as your fathers gaze softened. “And… Maybe I want to actually spend time with you. You spend all of your time with Peter, but obviously he knows what to do, and I clearly don’t”

“I guess. I guess that’s reasonable. I just want you to be safe, and if you think that that’s the way. Then we’ll do that. And you’re sure about this?” He asked. You knew he didn’t like the idea, but he was trying.

“I am”

 TAGLIST

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