#it looks and sounds like an exhausting job and I need to reiterate

[mycological-mariner]

Pulling up pictures and paintings of fishwives for drawing references and these women just look so incredibly badass. Just, walking around all day with a giant basket attached to their heads, the exposed forearms, the bright coloured shawls and black bonnets, beautiful in a rugged and sea-worn kind of way.

[misspearly1]

The One and Only Gal

Part One of this story is from my kinktober (day two: thigh riding)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x You (F!Reader)

WC: 5.3k

Summary: After a passionate moment shared between you and Arthur in the woods, you head back to camp together and the painful situation with Jenny still remains. She stole the job you put together and claimed it as her own. What else will she try to steal from you?

Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI Please! Jealousy & Drama from Jenny. Frustration & Anger from Reader and Arthur. Angst - with happy ending ofc. Smut. Mentions of Thigh Riding and Male Masturbation (from the 1st chapter). Fingering. Thigh Job (non penetrative sex). Oral (F receiving). Overstimulation. Praise Kink. Use of 'Good Girl'. Lots of fluff. If I have missed anything in the warnings, please let me know and I will add it in.

AN: Oh, I've been needing to visit my kinktober and write a whole lot of part 2's for some of the stories I wrote. Since I have a oneshot for Arthur in the works right now, I took a break from that story and started writing this one. I hope you enjoy, my loves!

Deep panting breaths could be heard echoing throughout the woods from you and Arthur, the sound of you both so exhausted and completely spent after multiple rounds of self-pleasure. He still had his hand wrapped around his length as your grinding movements over his thigh gradually came to a stop. The mess you left between your legs and the mess he had made all over his stomach and the inside fabric of his jeans was a testament to your mutual sense of satisfaction. 

You’re tired – both of you are, and pleasure still courses through your burning sex with overstimulation despite not even feeling the man inside of you yet. That’s a whole different form of pleasure to feel some other day, but right now, you need rest and so does he. You’ve been out here for a while now and it’s only a matter of time before someone comes looking for you both, the sight of you sitting on Arthur’s lap with a blissed out expression not something you want people to see. It’s a private moment only for you and him to share. 

The idea of riding his thigh never occurred to you before. You’ve only ever dreamed of him taking care of you in other ways; such as using his fingers, mouth or cock. Would you do it again though? Yes. Yes you would. It's an intimate experience you’d love to try out again in the future with Arthur, but this is the first time you’ve ever been intimate with him. You don’t know what this means or how it changes things between you and the man, and before you go any further with him, you want to know where he stands. 

“Arthur,�� you call his name in a whisper, your voice sounding small and timid with a fear of rejection. “I really liked what we’ve just done together, but is that all it will be between us?” You ask, noticing the slight disappointment in his eyes as he furrows his brows, indicating that he’s not understood your question quite as you intended. You reiterate: “I want this to be more. I really like you and I don’t want this to be a one time thing.”

Instantly, his shoulders relax with a sigh of relief slipping past his lips, “Me too,” he breathes, “I want more more too, sweetheart. I’ve liked you for a long time now,” he smiles deeply, the crows feet around his beautiful eyes displaying the joy he felt when hearing you say those words. 

Both of you felt that weight disappear from your shoulders. There was no more uncertainty. You had a strong feeling that he was attracted to you, but you never could be too sure and didn’t want to wrongfully assume. But now that you know for certain, you lean in the plant a kiss on the man's lips — the first kiss. 

Moaning together as one, you feel his tongue slide along your bottom lip requesting entry and respond by deepening the kiss. You tilt your head to the side, your fingers slipping through his slightly dishevelled hair and feel that his skin hot to the touch. The man holds you tightly, his hands finding purchase on the globes of your ass with a groping squeeze that just draws out the most prettiest sounds you could make. It was music to Arthur’s ears. You’ve whined and whimpered for him plenty in the last thirty minutes, yet he’s feeling eager to hear more; to hear just how loud you can moan his name. 

Suddenly pulling away at the sound of a branch snapping, you turn your head toward the treeline and immediately relax when seeing it was just a fox. You shake your head at yourself, giggling as you turn back to face Arthur. “Sorry. I don’t want anyone from camp seeing me like this, or… you know,” you look down to his crotch, emphasizing  that he’s still very much exposed and covered in creamy white ropes of his spend. “We should clean up and head back before they send someone out looking for us.” You suggest, to which he agrees, but gently holds the back of your head to lean in and plant a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips. 

When he pulled back, he looked at you with so much affection in his eyes that he almost looked drunk. It’s as if you were intoxicating, and the fact you made the man feel so satisfied without even touching him brought you great pride. He reached into his satchel and retrieved a couple rags, using the items to clean himself off as much as he could, although it couldn’t quite get rid of the wet patch you left on his thigh, or the damp spot he left inside of his jeans either. 

You rolled your lips together to hide the amusement on your face. It’s funny watching Arthur try to clean himself of the mess he made and it wasn’t doing a damn bit of good. “You really need a change of clothes,” you let out a giggle, and the man agrees as he laughs with you. “I know. This isn’t working as well as I hoped,” he says, then turns his head away to save your ears the discomfort as he whistles for his horse before turning back to face you again. “I keep a couple spare sets of clothes on Bo. I’ll get changed then we’ll head back.” 

“O-Ok,” you stutter hesitantly, not particularly loving the idea of heading back to camp so soon. Your night had begun with betrayal because of Jenny and what she did, and even though you feel much better than what you did earlier, it still doesn’t change the fact that she stole the job you put together. It still hurts that she did this to you. 

Arthur noticed the slight change in your demeanour, but didn’t have the chance to question it as Boadicea came galloping out the treeline, tearing his attention away momentarily. You rise to your feet and move toward her, stroking her mane as he rose to his feet too and moved toward his saddle bags. After taking out a fresh set of clothes, he starts undressing, and you look him up and down with praise in your eyes. 

You adore the way Arthur looks, fully clothed or completely in the nude, but this is the first time that you’ve seen him fully nude and his body is most tempting to gaze upon. He watches you watching him, a bashful smile on his lips as his cheeks begin to burn with flattery. Putting his jeans on first and concealing his most private area, you jokingly pout from the loss, already missing the sight of his dick laying heavy and semi-hard against his thigh. He laughs at you, his voice deepened with affection.  

Putting his arms through the holes of his shirt however, you shook your head and reached your hand out to stop him. “No – wait. May I?” You ask, offering your assistance with the buttons. He doesn’t deny your request and takes your hand to swiftly pull you into his embrace. “Sure, darlin’,” he replies with a thick drawl, “Go ahead.” 

Your body pressed against his bare chest was stirring something fierce in your nether regions. He’s a big guy, muscular and cushiony, thus making you feel intimidatingly small. You grin under his wanton gaze, then begin buttoning his shirt from the bottom upwards, your knuckles grazing against his skin with a featherlight touch. It made him shudder and close his eyes, a heavy exhale escaping his lips as he fully relaxed his shoulders. 

You’ve reduced the man to something pliable like soft putty in your hands, the expression on his face speaking of nothing but satisfaction and contentment. Once you had finished buttoning his shirt, he slowly opened his eyes and looked at you again, his hand sliding up your spine to hold the back of your neck. He held you in place as he leaned in to kiss you, slowly this time, his lips moving in tandem with yours passionately. 

It took a while for you and Arthur to finally make your way back to camp. He couldn’t keep his hands off you, nor could you keep your hands off him, but once you emerged from the treeline and approached the gang huddling around something, reality quickly settled in and all of those bothersome emotions came racing back. Jenny was still receiving praise for the job she stole from you. Everyone was talking to her about it. You could even hear the girls complimenting her now, and the sound of Karen applauding her efforts made your blood boil. 

Arthur noticed for a second time that something changed in your demeanour, and now that he didn’t have any distractions this time, he pulled you close and asked point blank: “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You’re squeezing my hand.” 

“I am?” You turn to face him, then let go of his hand and quietly apologize for squeezing him. You didn’t even realize that you were, but you tried to hide the furious look in your eyes. You’re not really a hot-headed person. Whenever you get so angry like this, you put distance between you and the issue before returning with a calm mind, but nothing about Jenny and the gang commending her was making you feel better. “I um. I don’t really want to get into it, Arthur. It’s stupid and not worth the hassle anyways,” you reply, your eyes downcast. 

“Hey,” he whispers, placing his finger under your chin to lift your head and look at him, “It is worth the hassle and it’s not stupid, sweetheart. I won’t push, but you know you can talk to me, right?” You hold his line of sight, your eyes darting between his with the temptation to tell him everything about Jenny. What could he do about it anyway? Would anyone believe you? And what if it just creates a bigger problem? You don’t want to be the cause for creating problems. You’d much prefer to just let it go, even though you’ve done nothing wrong. 

“I know,” you nod to the man, choosing to not say anything about it instead. “Thank you, Arthur. I promise to not let it bother me too mu-” you’re cut off with impeccable timing as the sound of Jenny’s voice shrieks behind you. “Oh, Arthur! There you are!” She says, and you move to stand at his side as she approaches you both with speed. “I was wondering where you went. Come on, we have lots to discuss about robbing the saloon tomorrow,” she glances at you briefly before her eyes focused on the proximity between you and Arthur, “Y/N, you don't mind, right? We need to go over the details. Hosea, Arthur and me. Just the three of us,” she grins, and it pisses you off, but you bite your tongue and agree wordlessly with a nod. 

Arthur turns to you now, smiling obliviously, “I shouldn’t be too long. Wait for me in my tent, sweetheart. I ain't finished with ya yet," he winks.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon,” you force a smile before turning away and walking briskly across camp. He was completely unaware of Jenny’s actions just now. That shit eating grin on her face is what annoys you so much. You didn’t think there was any spite behind her reasons to steal your job. You don’t even know for sure why she stole it, but you thought there had to be a good reason at least, and now you think she’s just doing it to be malicious and nasty. 

Or perhaps it’s because she wants Arthur. You saw the way she looked at how close you stood next to him. You noticed the way it depleted her smile for a moment, and just out of curiosity, you looked over your shoulder to find the woman doing the exact same thing. She walked alongside the man, her lip curled with disdain as she looked at you with loathing eyes. You held her eye contact and didn’t back down, not until she broke first. It was a small victory, but you didn’t feel any better about this whole situation and the way she switched up her persona with a beaming smile as she spoke to Arthur and Hosea only confirmed your suspicions. She wants the man you wanted — the man you now have. 

You made it to Arthur’s tent and sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for him. He didn’t take long. No less than ten minutes later, he returned to you, but he came back with a mean look on his face. You couldn’t describe it exactly, but he looked as if he’d just been told something quite upsetting. You immediately rose to your feet and tried to calm him down, but he held his hand out to stop you. “This job with the saloon tomorrow. Was this your idea or Jenny’s? Don’t lie to me,” he said with vexation in his tone. 

You immediately became silent, a gloomy look washing over your face that ultimately answered the man's question. He turned away from you, palming the scruff of his neck as he tried to calm himself down before turning back to you again. “Is this what’s been botherin’ ya? Did she steal that idea from you, or did you give her this job?” He asks, and you shake your head, your brows knitting together tightly with confusion as to what’s got him so worked up in the space of ten minutes. 

“No. She stole it from me. I told her about it in confidence,” your lip trembles as you hold back the urge to cry. You’ve never seen Arthur so angry like this before – well, not in your presence at least. It was alarming and scary. You’re not scared of him, or worried for your safety. You’re worried for whoever he is angry with.

“God. I am so sorry, girl,” he apologizes, even though he didn’t need to. He had nothing to be sorry for as he’s done nothing wrong to you, but the man simply couldn’t stand the look on your face and felt the need to apologize regardless. You tried to fight the tears welling up in the corner of your eyes, too many emotions all at once proving to be too much for you to handle. He strode towards you, taking you in a warm hug and wrapped his arms around your back tightly. “I’m really sorry for raising my voice like that. I wasn’t mad with you, I promise,” he swears, rubbing his hands up and down your back reassuringly. “I'm mad at Jenny. She just tried to kiss me.” 

“Oh my God - Really?” You pull your head back to look into his eyes, your brows still furrowed together with confusion as to what the hell happened since he left you earlier. “What happened?” You ask, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, laughing humorlessly. “You weren’t there. That’s what happened,” he shakes his head, “I know she wouldn’t have tried that shit if you were there, but I should’a seen this coming… Fuck. I’m really sorry, sweetheart.” 

“It’s not your fault, Arthur,” you reply in a reassuring tone. He moves towards the opening of his tent and closes it, sealing you both with some much needed privacy before moving toward the bed with you to sit down. He held your hands and you could sense his worry in the way he was holding onto you. 

“Jenny mentioned something about my journal, something I’ve only ever told you before,” you gasp with that, knowing exactly what he’s referring to as you shared a piece of information with her. It’s not some big secret. It’s just a job that he and Hosea did a while back. He continues to explain. “I knew something wasn’t right the moment she started talking about that job. She noticed that I was onto her, and when I began questioning how she found this saloon job for tomorrow, she tried to kiss me.” 

“That doesn’t really surprise me. I had a feeling she wanted you,” you admit, to which he responds with certainty in his tone, “Yeah well, she can’t have me. I’m already spoken for,” he looks directly into your eyes with that statement, smiling, “Will you stay the night with me, sweetheart? I really don’t want ya going out there to face whatever she has to say about me rejecting her. We can deal with it tomorrow if ya want.”

��Honestly, I really like the sound of that,” you nod to the man, then lean into his side and rest your head against his shoulder. “I’ll stay with you, Arthur. I’d prefer that anyway. It’s too cold in my tent some nights.” 

“It’s ‘cause you don’t have me there to keep ya warm, girl,” he chuckles, and you agree with him silently. You wouldn’t be so cold during the night sometimes if you had him laying with you. Even now as you lean into his side, you can feel the heat emanating from him and it makes you feel so cozy that you could fall asleep right here, right now.

When you begin to yawn though, and cause him to yawn too, he leans down to remove his shoes, and afterwards, he moves on to removing your shoes too, the gentle touch of his hands causing your skin to pimple with goosebumps. Once your shoes were off, he began dragging the pad of his fingers across your ankle, smiling mischievously. 

“S-Stop,” you stutter between laughter, “I’m t-ticklish there. Arthur, stop… It tickles,” you giggle uncontrollably, the sound so sweet and euphonious to his ears that he didn’t want to stop just so he could keep hearing you laugh like this. It warmed his hear to hear you happy again.

Showing you some mercy and easing up on the tickling, he stood to his feet and began taking off his clothes, getting himself ready for bed. “I hope you don’t mind, but I like to cuddle,” he says. 

“Not at all. I like to cuddle too,” you begin removing your clothes as well, but remember that your undergarments are still damp from what you and Arthur did earlier. “Um, Arthur?” You look at him with a bashful expression, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “I can’t wear this for bed. They’re uh… They’re still wet. Do you want me to go get another pair of bed clothes?”

“Nah, darlin’,” he shook his head softly, his eyes glossed over with desire, “I can give you one of my shirt’s if ya want? Or you can sleep without any clothes. Whatever you're most comfortable with, I don’t mind either way.”

Instead of answering him with words, you started pulling down the straps on your shoulders and let your undergarment fall to the floor, completely exposing yourself for the man's eyes to admire. He gulped audibly when dropping his gaze to your chest. You watched him bring his hand around to palm his crotch, no doubt feeling the blood rushing to his member. 

“Would yer mind if I remove my clothes too?” He asks sweetly, standing with nothing but his leotard on. You shake your head and let him know that you’d actually prefer him to remove his clothes, opting to sleep together nude instead.

Once he had fully undressed, he pulled the covers back on his bed and climbed in first, making sure there was ample room for you to lay down and get comfy. The moment you felt the warmth of his chest pressed against your back however, you let out a deep hum of satisfaction and scooted back to be even closer to him.

“Is this ok?” He asks another question before going any further, his hand resting on your hip with the desire to wrap around your front. You don’t even answer the man. You just grab his hand and pull it around your stomach, a smile splayed across your face. 

Arthur carefully leans over you and blows out the candle beside his bed, casting his entire tent in complete darkness before settling back into his position. Only this time, he nestled his chin into your neck and pulled the blankets up to keep you both wrapped up securely. The heat was already working its magic with helping you unwind and become sleepy. You held his hand and rubbed his knuckles with your thumb until you eventually slipped into a comfortable deep state of slumber. 

Sometime later, you awoke first at the sound of Arthur snoring softly in your ear, the sound was hushed and calm, as if he were trying to be quiet even in his sleep. You could feel your body sticking to his because of how hot it was under the blankets. And, your forehead was damp with sweat and so was his hand over your stomach.

“Arthur,” you call his name, your voice barely above a whisper as it was still dark outside. He stopped snoring and hummed reply, not fully awake but conscious. “I’m too hot,” you say whilst pulling the blankets down a little to feel the cool night-time breeze on your skin. It was an instant relief and you closed your eyes again, falling asleep within seconds. 

In the morning when you awoke again, the blankets were placed back over you and Arthur still had his chest pressed to your back. He wasn’t snoring anymore though, and you could feel his fingers rubbing your knuckles now. He’s awake, but rather than letting him know that you’re awake too, you subtly pushed your ass into him, enjoying the little grunt slipping past his lips.

He smiled against your neck, responding to your actions just now by rolling his hips forward. You could feel his cock pressing into your lower back. It was painfully hard, making your legs squeeze together with a palpable pulse in your nether regions. 

“Are you awake, sweetheart?” He mumbles, and you reply with a barely noticeable nod, your lips slowly turning upwards as he lowers his hand to your sex. Your mouth falls open with a soft gasp when the pad of his finger finds your clit and begins rubbing it in a circular motion.

You drop your hand to hold his, urging him without a need for words that you want more, and he grants you wish eagerly. Now, he uses two fingers to slide through your folds, using your slick as a natural lube to breach your entrance. “Ohh,” you moan into the pillow, the cushion doing very little to keep you quiet. 

“There you go. Let it all out, darlin’,” he praises you, growling into your ear, “Atta girl-” you rut back and forth, fucking his hand, “-Keeping going, just like that.” Your breathing begins to pant as he penetrates his fingers deeper, curling them into a come hither motion to caress that sweet spot inside.

You whine for him, the sound like a reward as he starts groaning in your ear, his cock rubbing against your back to get himself off. “Arthur wait-” you squeeze his hand, shaking your head, “-Use your cock instead. I want to feel you rub yourself between my legs like that.” 

Carefully, he removes his fingers from your cunt and you moan from the loss. He slips his hand between your bodies and lifts your thigh to notch the head of his between your folds. “Like this?” He asks while rolling his hips forward then backward, the tip of him stimulating your clit blissfully.

“Yes – yes,” you breath heavily, your skin burning with lust, “God yes… keep doing that,” you beg and he lowers your thigh to hold onto your hip for leverage. You arch your back, the angle giving him plenty of room to glide through your folds as your desire soaked his cock and your thighs. He buries his face into your neck and groans deeply, his voice shrouded in pleasure.

Keeping his thrusts gentle but quick, you feel your orgasm approaching and warn him. “I’m gonna cum,” you say, and he wraps his arm around your stomach, pinning your body to his as he grunts. “Me too, sweetheart.” 

Kissing your neck as he breathing begins to stutter and choke, you listen to all those sexy noises he made and slipped over the edge together, reveling in the plentiful creamy warm ropes of his spend coating your pussy. You feel his cock twitching as he thrusts a couple more times, as if releasing every drop he could possibly give before finally relaxing behind you, though his breathing was still heavy as he gradually came down from his high. “Fuck. I’ve never done that before,” he murmurs, his voice laden with exhaustion. 

“Me neither,” you laugh, “I just thought it would feel better for you than rubbing yourself against my back.” 

“Oh, it did feel better,” he chuckles breathily. You lay together in silence for a few minutes, relishing in the post-coital bliss of your love making. It’s yet another act of pleasure you’ve both enjoyed without penetrative sex. You know when the time comes to feel him inside of you it’s going to be out of this world, but up until yesterday, you’ve never been intimate with Arthur. Suppose you’re just easing yourselves into the pleasure, not jumping right into it with sex first. You like this approach. It helps getting to know his body and what he likes. 

Leaning over your body carefully and retrieving yet another rag from his satchel, he wets the fabric with some water from his canteen and cleans off the mess between your legs, the action making you whimper when he touches your sensitive area.

“Lay on your back for me, kitten,” he requests, and you oblige, laying on your back for him as he moves down your body, situating his face between your thighs. “Think you got another orgasm left in ya?” He asks, his eyes darting at your clit, “Mmm. I want a taste of this pretty cunt of yours.” 

“Maybe,” you answer honestly whilst spreading your legs for him, “I’m still feeling sensitive, but as long as you take it slow, I should be okay, hon,” he smiles with the term of endearment, his cheeks blossoming a rosy pink in colour. “Of course, kitten,” he whispers reassuringly, a promise in his tone to take things slow.

He leans in and plants a kiss on your inner thigh first, his beard and moustache working wonderfully to tickle your skin in the best way. You shudder beneath him and feel his lips dragging up your leg, nearing your burning heat.

“Oh, look at you,” he growls mockingly, “Clenching around nothing, girl. Mhmm…and that ass looks so tight,” he touches you there, touches you where no one has ever touched you before — not even yourself. Your body jerks away from him naturally as you shake your head, and he reassures, “Don’t worry, darlin’. Only when you’re ready.” 

“But what if I’m never ready, Arthur?” You let out a nervous laugh, to which he leans in to kiss your inner thigh again, mumbling against your skin. “Then it’s ok, sweetheart. You don’t gotta do anything outside of your comfort zone with me.” You look down at your body, gazing into his eyes with a warm appreciative smile on your lips. You appreciate that he isn’t like other guys who would try to persuade you to try anal, even though you never once thought he would be persuasive like that anyways, but you appreciate it nonetheless. He sees and feels your hesitancy, and that’s all he needs to know that you’re not so keen on the idea. 

“Can I…” he trails off in a daze, looking at your pussy before looking back into your eyes, “Can I kiss your pussy, sweetheart?” He asks, and you love that he’s asking your permission beforehand. You nod feverishly, watching him with focus as he leans in to press his lips against your clit, the sensation making your eyes close instantly with a whimpering moan slipping past your lips, the sound giving him a boost of confidence to continue. You feel his tongue slipping between your folds, circling your clit a few times before finding the right rhythm that gives you the most pleasure – left and right rapidly. 

Oh, the noises he made were sinful and impure, grunting and groaning into your cunt like a man starved as he slurped on your desire. You started to moan and didn’t stop, your pitch gradually getting so high that you had to bite the back of your hand and silence yourself. That only fuelled Arthur’s playfully sadistic nature. He wanted to make you scream and cry his name to the high heavens above, for the whole camp to hear you being pleasured like no one else has ever pleasured you before. He held the back of your thighs and lifted them up in the air, the angle giving him more room to suck on your clit now and ease two fingers deep inside of you, massaging your g-spot. 

“Arthur!” You sob. Gripping his hair by the handfuls, he groans with you, the vibrations of his voice blissful and electrifying. Your thighs begin to shake violently, your toes curling as you see stars. It all happened so fast, yet your orgasm was prolonged as he didn’t stop licking and sucking on your bruised clit until it became too much for you to bear, the lower half of your body jolting away from him with overstimulation. He eased up and moved his head away, teasing you with chaste kisses on your swollen nub and watching the way you spasm with aftershocks of pleasure.

“Feel good, kitten?” He asks upon noticing the tears falling from the corners of your eyes. You nod to him and mewl pathetically, looking at him with a blissed out expression on your face. “Yes baby,” you say between panting breaths, “Y-yes… It f-feels so g-good.” 

“That’s a good girl,” he praises with a devilish smirk on his lips, “Think you can give me another one, beautiful?” 

“Arthur,” you bark out a laugh, shaking your head at him. He laughs with you and plants one last kiss on your cunt before moving up your body. If you could handle another round or more, he’d happily spend hours between your legs but you’re completely spent and the cramp in your lower abdomen needed time to ease off.

He rested his weight on you evenly, his forearms placed in the mattress at either side of your head as he leans in and closes the gap. You sample a taste of your own desire on his tongue, moaning together in unison as his cock presses against you before he pulls back to ask: “You wanna head out today? I’ll take you somewhere nice. Just the two of us.” 

“I would love that, but what about the saloon job?” You ask, hating that a beautiful moment between you and the man is ruined with the remembrance of what happened last night with Jenny. You didn’t want to let her ruin your mood and tried to stay positive, and what Arthur told you next made you feel ten times better.

“I’m not doing it without you, and since Jenny wouldn’t step back to let you come along when I asked her, I told Charles to take my place,” he said, and you stared into his eyes with a lot of love and appreciation. It meant a lot that he would pass up the opportunity to do something he really enjoys with Hosea. It meant a lot that he would do that for you. 

Once you both had eventually peeled yourself away from each other, got cleaned up and dressed, you exited your tent and made your way to the horses, hearing your names in the whispers. You and Arthur were the talk of camp. People seemed to be excited that you two were finally together, and in the middle of it all, stood Jenny with a regretful look on her face not only fucking up one friendship, but with two.

Maybe one day with some time and patience, you and Arthur will forgive her. After all, he is an exceptionally handsome man and you can’t really blame any woman for finding him so damn attractive. 

However, there’s no doubt in your mind that you are his one and only gal.

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[catatonicreality]

I'd like to talk about this Netflix original directed by Tim Burton.

My history with Tim Burton projects is checkered at best and I flat out can't stand the pretentiousness of his newer work, at worst. I applaud his earlier work for being out of the box at the time, but the man did nothing to develop his style since. This could be said about most directors who find a niche and fill it ad nauseam. It's predictable and worn out and I don't see it fitting in with gen Z, but I might be wrong.

Here are my arguments.

The series is written by 2 men of which one is for sure cis het. These two adapted a piece of media/culture from another white guy and is all directed by another white cis het guy. Saving grace if there's one is that it's produced by a woman although the influence is not seen or felt at all. The two guys who're responsible for some of the very bland and unimaginative dialogs are also the showrunners. It's...tired.

The main characters are well established so there's no need to reinvent the wheel yet the dynamic between pretty much all characters is very detached, plastic and devoid of good acting. I don't blame the actors since they had nowhere to go with such crap script. Why is the script crap? Because yet again two white grown men are giving voices to teenagers in the 21st century. The dialogues suggest that the story is set in today's time (mentions of TikTok and other social media) which very much shows the age of the writers. I'm an older millennial and I honestly wouldn't be so bold and arrogant to write in the voice of today's teenagers; from very specific slang and taste for things, I feel like I might have been born in the 1884. when trying to keep up. That's why you don't keep up, instead you either hire or completely give over the project to the generation you're trying to portray. It looks, sounds and feels like raggedy old white men, it's uncomfortable and feels tired, ya know like (say it with me) old white men wrote it.

Then there's the lousy and clumsy attempt at queer baiting. These attempts are very on the nose and very, again cis white men's understanding of queer youth today. I must reiterate, I don't claim to know what queer youth of today is but I was cringing the whole time.

Catherine Zeta Jones is not Morticia. She's an evil stepmom from another franchise but she's not Morticia. Again, failure to understand the original character's voice. Everyone else is doing an ok job all things considered.

There are just way too many characters and plotlines for an introductory season. It's crowded and annoying. There's the three pilgrim anti-freak antagonists, the mayor, the policeman, the policeman's son who has a thing from the main protagonist, another guy who has a thing for the main protagonist, the roommate, roommate's love interest, a guy who has a thing for the roommate, another guy who has a thing for roommate, the "nemesis" of the main protagonist, the principal, the psychiatrist, the principal of the school... All these characters have their own story lines interspersed throughout the whole thing. It never ends and it's exhausting. It's a mess.

In some episodes there are unnecessary interactions and sequences that absolutely do nothing for the plot because they're never revisited and when a conflict happens it's forgotten until the characters are in the same scene again and then the conflict is resolved with the "oh no worries" method. Not like most of these characters can and probably do run into each other on a daily basis. This kind of disjointed plot is expected when studios meddle into the work but Netflix has produced very questionable shite (see Dave Chappelle's and Ricky Gervaise's stand-ups) so I doubt that the incoherent plotlines comes because Netflix had ideas on the direction of the story.

There so much more but I've already said enough. I wanted to like it but it's not funny, it's not very political, it has no discernible agenda...it has no heart. I have no idea what the point of this show is other than to make money.

TLDR, it's incoherent and unfunny, lacks heart.

P.S. One last thing, even visually it's boring and unimaginative. That's it. Goodbye.

[mcwriting]

it's just part of the job

This is a once shot based on a request by @laurentrvn! I really loved the idea and tried to stick as closely to the prompt given, so I hope you enjoy!

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1248

Warnings: can't think of any, it's pure fluff

><

You were exhausted, to be frank.

It was just past 2 a.m. in yours and Tom's London home as he prepared for a late night TV interview based in Los Angeles.

The show was taping his part at 8 p.m. their time, which converted to 3 a.m. yours during the summer months.

Normally it wouldn't have been that big of a deal.

You were so proud of Tom for his upcoming film, but you were actually in the middle of shooting your own movie in the city, something you'd been busy doing all day long.

Crazy hours are just part of the job, though.

The interview wouldn't be long, so you'd agreed to stay up with your boyfriend and make sure he was well styled so he wouldn't have to call other people to the house in those early morning hours.

Thankfully, you were going to have a two-day work break anyways as your film's scripts went through some minor rewrites.

Because of the ridiculous hour, your stomach had decided that 2 a.m. was the perfect time for a snack, so while Tom dressed you had decided to scrounge around the kitchen until you found something good.

You brewed some tea in the meanwhile, both you and Tom deciding that this wasn't an ideal time for coffee, especially considering you hadn't slept in at least 20 hours.

You walked into the bedroom, a small tray in hand with the tea and snacks stacked carefully.

"Hey I got some fruit and some cookies but let me know if- woooow..." you said, brows raised once you saw Tom's outfit in the reflection of his full-length mirror.

He'd chosen to dress in a shirt you loved, a button up with thick vertical stripes tucked into some grey slacks, an outfit which was reminiscent of 70s fashion.

You had to laugh at the fact that he was even wearing pants, though. Unfortunately he'd learned the hard way what it was like to forgo pants on a zoom meeting, so he swore to wear them for any video call from now own.

Who knew, he might even be asked about it in his interview tonight after his boxers had previously gone viral.

Tom turned and smiled at your pleased reaction, walking towards you. After you set the tray down, he snaked an arm around your waist and planted one kiss on your forehead and another to your lips.

"Think I look good, eh?"

"I'm loving the fit, but we need to put a little makeup on you," you said, shimmying from his grip and disappearing into the bathroom to find the foundation his stylist had explicitly told him to use tonight.

When you returned, he was indulging in a chocolate chip cookie, the crumbs all over his mouth.

"While you finish that, I'm going to start on your forehead," you explained as you began dabbing a beauty blender along his hairline. After a few minutes, he had an even layer painted over his face and neck.

"Am I done now? I'm supposed to log onto the call soon," he pouted.

"Almost, I just need to swipe on a little blush and neutral eyeshadow and you'll be all set," you answered, focused on picking out a blush color that would look natural on camera.

"I don't even get why I need makeup. They're going to be seeing me from my shitty computer camera and office lights. I mean look at you. You're not wearing makeup and you look great!"

You paused brushing a light rouge over one cheek to give him a half lidded look.

"Nice try, but we both know I look like I was run over with a truck," you joked.

It's not like you were even trying to sound self-deprecating, it's just that you had been awake far too long after having done a physically taxing shoot all day.

The second you'd gotten home, you'd showered and gotten rid of any trace of makeup, leaving you bare faced with damp hair that wet the collar of your old t-shirt.

"Well I think you look beautiful," Tom reiterated, kissing your forehead again as you went to grab eyeshadow.

You hummed in response and quickly brushed a light tan color over his eyelids to complete his look.

"Okay, all done. You did a good job on you hair," you commented, still instinctively reaching up to reposition a curl.

"Well that's perfect, because I need to get logged on. Why don't you relax and I'll come get you when I'm done, yeah?"

You nodded and let him go, watching him head across the hall as you sat at your vanity, sipping on the tea you'd made for yourself.

><

Though it took almost 30 minutes of sound checking and ensuring a good connection, Tom's interview had only lasted about 10 minutes.

When asked about the time in London, he'd only had one answer:

"It's just part of the job"

As expected, he'd had to show off his pants and make sure everyone knew he was wearing them despite the wee morning hour. Also unsurprisingly, he'd been asked where y/n was, explaining her taxing day and praising her for helping him get ready.

Once he closed up his laptop, he got up and turned out the office light. He then untucked and unbuttoned his shirt, ready to put on some comfy clothes and get in bed.

"Hey I'm don-" he paused and stopped in the doorway, grinning.

In the 40 or so minutes since he'd left you, you'd fallen asleep with your head down on the vanity, a half-eaten cookie in hand and your hair splayed all around the desk.

"Darling, are you awake?" he asked in a whisper, his hand gently placed over your shoulder, to make sure that you weren't just resting your head.

When he got no response, he knew you were actually asleep.

Tom quickly removed his unbuttoned shirt and exchanged his slacks for sweatpants. He also haphazardly took a makeup wipe to his face, knowing that leaving makeup on his face would cause it to break out.

Once he was cleaned up, he came back into the room to take care of you, starting by removing the cookie from your hand and placing it back on the tray.

He sat you up, your head rolling backwards until his hand could catch it. Thankfully you hadn't scooted the seat forward at all, so all he had to do was hook an arm below your knees and the other around your back.

He stood with a little huff, your dead weight no match for his strength.

Though you were asleep, your head instinctively turned into his chest as he transferred you a few feet and laid you gently on the bed where he had folded back the covers.

The missing warmth of his skin awoke you as he shuffled to the other side of the bed, so you stretched and yawned.

"Sorry that I woke you love, I was trying to be gentle," he whispered, sliding onto the mattress as you rolled to face him, still exhausted.

"It's okay. How did it go?"

"Amazing of course," he punctuated the statement with a forehead kiss. "He asked what you were up to."

"Hmm. What did you say?" you asked, cozying up to Tom.

"I told him you were out partying while I worked all day, as usual," he joked.

You snorted, not having the energy to fully laugh at his joke.

"It's just part of the job," you retorted. You were starting to slip away again.

"G'night, Tom. Love you," you slurred hazily.

"Good night, darling. I love you, too."

><

A/N: Ugh this was so cute are you kidding me??? Pretty much all the credit goes to @laurentrvn like I said before. I was given pretty much the backbone of this fic and just filled in the missing pieces, so I hope it's what you were imagining with this!

Thanks for reading!

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[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 2:

You never end up getting a text from Kirishima.

The following night, when you return from your shift at the hospital, what you find waiting for you instead is a gift basket. It’s filled to the brim with boxes of food, and packets of tea, a few dishtowels, and, surprisingly enough? A job offer.

Thank you for saving one of our own. The attached note reads. Due to your impressive quirk and quick thinking, we’d like to offer you a spot on our medical team. The Hero Public Safety Commission would love to utilize your talents. Call at the number listed for more information. We’ll be waiting.

You think the note sounds a little ominous, if you’re being completely honest. While it’s a nice offer, and one you’ll probably at least ask a few questions about, was the ‘We’ll be waiting’ really a necessary addition to the note? It makes the whole message read as an order, not a suggestion, and that makes your stomach uneasy. 

The knowledge that they know about your quirk sits a little heavy too. You’d always tried to keep a tight lid on your power; only using it when absolutely necessary for as long as you could remember. You didn’t like digging into people’s brains, and you knew that it was an easy power to exploit if left in the wrong hands.

People felt pain for a reason. You knew that better than anybody.

Still, you did end up calling the number, and you did end up accepting the offer. As uncomfortable a reason as it was, the money was undeniable. The local hospital’s salaries just couldn’t compete.

You were quickly reassigned to a hospital in the center of Musutafu, and it was a bit of a culture shock. You’d always lived on the outskirts, and the villian presence there was laughable in comparison to the inner city. Suddenly, you were extremely busy, nearly constantly drowning in work and people who needed your help, but you didn’t mind. You’d always been passionate about being a nurse, and now you felt fulfilled in ways you hadn’t before.

All in all, you considered Bakugou a strange blessing. He might’ve been rude, and violent, and just generally pretty unpleasant when you first met him, but you didn’t hold it against him. If you really thought about it, you were nothing but grateful- well, as grateful as you could be to a guy who bled all over your apartment and then never talked to you again. 

Still, you always wondered if he was alright. As much as you tried to forget about it entirely, you couldn’t wipe that night from your mind. When you took his pain, you were nearly winded by the anger and terror he felt. It was more than just shock, more than just fear over his injuries- it was something lasting, developed, something he’d been struggling with for a long time. A feeling that intense was hard to forget.

It was nearly three months before you saw him again.

Your day had been hectic, as it nearly always was. There had been a villian attack near a residential subdivision, and while the casualties were few, there were innumerous injured civilians. The entire day had been spent rushing between rooms, splinting broken limbs, applying casts, and evaluating for concussions. You were exhausted, nearly dead on your feet, when one of your superiors pulled you away.

“We need your quirk.” She says, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Excuse me?”

“We need your quirk. We’ve got a special guest, and we need it as painless an experience for him as possible. It’s the least we could do for him.” 

“Oh? Um, okay? Who is it?”

She doesn’t answer, just spins on her heels and motions for you to follow. Your superior walks fast, leading you down winding hallways and past operating rooms, all the way down to the small luxury wing. You know what you’re in for now- a hero. 

Your hospital had treated a lot of injured pro-heroes in the past, but you’d never been chosen to help before. You mostly stayed in the general part, assisting with the civilians heroes saved instead of the pro’s themselves. You briefly wondered why you were chosen- you figured whoever it was had to be pretty important if they wanted you to take away his pain entirely.

“Take your time with him, he’s your last patient. I know your shift’s not over, but, trust me, all you’ll want to do is go home after treating him. So be grateful for the time off.” Is all your superior says, pushing you through a door. “ Alright. Good luck.”

Then she shuts the door behind her, leaving you with whatever problem-child she was mentioning- and what a problem-child he is.

One look at blonde hair and red eyes and you realize your earlier assumption was wrong. You weren’t chosen to make his experience as painless as possible- you were chosen to make the hospital’s experience as painless as possible. 

Still, you’ll push through it. You’re tired, but that doesn’t mean Bakugou’s injuries should be ignored. Upon first look, you notice gauze around his forearm and one of his knees. When he turns his head, he’s got a shallow cut spanning across his temple, and of his fingers looks oddly blue and swollen. All things considered, at least it’ll be a quick visit. You’re fairly confident it’s not gonna be anything more than stitches and maybe a finger splint for him.

“Alright, first things first, any other injuries I should know about? Besides the obvious ones, I mean.” You say, pulling over a cart and taking the blood pressure cuff from it. You start taking his vitals, smiling up at him from where he’s sat on top the hospital bed. “Secondly, it’s nice to see you again. I’m glad you’re not unconscious this time.”

“Excuse me? The hell are you on about?”

“Wait, do you not remember me?”

“Nah, ‘m fuckin’ supposed to?” He bristles, his shoulders tensing up. “You a fan of mine or some shit?”

You roll your eyes- you’d always sort of naively hoped he was more pleasant when not gravely injured, but you’re quickly realizing that not’s the case. Bakugou is prickly. Prickly, prickly, prickly.

“No. Not exactly a fan.” You answer him coyly, moving to rinse your hands clean at the sink. You slip on a pair of latex gloves, gather some antiseptic, some gauze, and your stitching kit, and then you turn back to him. “You might not remember it, especially considering your head wound that night, but three months ago you crash landed on my balcony.”

Bakugou blinks, once, twice, and then he’s red in the face and screaming.

“You! Fuckin’ you!” He roars, lips pulled back over his sharp canines. “You were in my goddamn head! Fuckin’ witch.”

“Okay. Well, yeah, you’re technically correct- but that’s not a very nice way to thank me for saving you. And it’s a quirk, not witchcraft.” You reiterate, nearing him with the antiseptic wipes. Bakugou recoils back, slapping your hand away lightly. You’re entirely unimpressed at his actions. “Calm down, I’m not going to use my quirk on you; at least, not without your explicit permission. I’m just here to stitch you up.”

He just huffs, nostrils flaring as he glares down at you.

“Have you ever gotten stitches before?” You ask. 

A part of you is aware the question is kind of dumb, especially considering his career, but you figure you should ask anyway. In your experience, patients generally receive treatment a lot better if you talk them through it.

“Yeah.” He answers. “Not while fuckin’ lucid though.”

 “Alright, that’s fine. We can work with that. But, that means you must not get hurt a lot then, huh?”

“Nah. Never.” 

Bakugou’s voice is proud, and when you look up at him, he’s smirking. You think that expression is only mildly less irritating then his grimace- but, maybe he’ll finally let you take a look at his arm now. You decide to try, your hands nearing the bandages around his forearm, but he smacks you away again.

“Bakugou. Stop. I need to take a look, alright? That’s what you’re here for, so let me do my job. I won’t use my quirk on you, I promise.” You tell him earnestly, holding his gaze steadfastly. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to, alright? I’ve got gloves on and it doesn’t work without skin-to-skin contact. So, could you please calm down for me?”

Bakugou’s eye twitches.

“Fine. But I’m fuckin’ watching you.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“I am.”

“I know. I’m not arguing with you.” You retort calmly.

You point at the cart, sighing in relief when he finally complies to your wishes. He sets his forearm flat on top of it, and you watch him wince slightly. There’s cloth and gauze wrapped around it, blood soaking through the makeshift bandage. You peel the material away gently, revealing a fairly large cut. The wound’s not very deep, thankfully, but it slices almost to the inside of his elbow. It is going to need a fair amount of stitches, but luckily most of the active bleeding seems to have stopped.

“Alright,” You start, catching his gaze. “This doesn’t look too bad, but it might scar.”

“No fuckin’ shit. Dumbass.”

“Bakugou, take a breath for me. I didn’t mean any harm by the comment, okay? I’m just doing my job and being honest with you.”

“I don’t need your fuckin’ honesty.”

“No, maybe not, but you do need me to stitch you up.” You try to keep your voice level, treat him delicately even as he fights you with every breath. It’s challenging work, but no more strenuous than any other difficult patient you’ve ever dealt with. “Alright, so I’m gonna clean around the wound, apply some local anesthetic, and then stitch you up. Sound good?”

“I don’t need the goddamn step by step, I’m not a fuckin’ kid. So just get on with it already.”

“I’m just trying to be accomodating.” You reply with a sigh. You take his forearm gently, working around the wound with an antiseptic wipe. You hear him suck in a breath. “Sorry. I’m sure it probably stings.” 

“Don’t pity me.”

“It’s- I’m not.” You can’t help but sigh in slight frustration. It’s normally a reaction you’d try to cut short, but Bakugou’s being needlessly rude- you think he deserves to hear it. “Look, I was trying to be professional, and normally I’d never say this, but I’m- I’m not being paid to argue with you, alright? I’m just here to fix you up. So, if you’d rather me just stay silent while I do that, that’s perfectly fine. Just say so. I won’t be offended.”

“Good. Shut the fuck up then.”

Irritation flares in your chest, but you do your best to breathe through it. He’s far from the most difficult patient you’ve ever had, but something about his clipped words and guarded expression has you just as annoyed. You think it might be his eyes- the way they seem to always be tracking you, zeroing in on any and all possible flaws. 

Still, you try to ignore his attitude anyways, and it becomes a little easier as you focus back on dressing the wound, finishing up with the antiseptic wipes and moving on to the anesthetic. You almost consider lathering the numbing gel on while it’s still freezing cold, but you quickly decide against letting his bad attitude interfere with your job performance. You don’t want to sink to his idiotic level. 

You’re warming the gel packet in your palm, rubbing to create friction and heat, when he speaks again.

“You can skip that.”

“Yeah. I could. But I won’t- it generally makes the whole process a lot smoother if you can’t feel every stitch.” You say simply, tearing the gel packet open. “Sorry in advance if it’s still cold, I tried to warm it up a bit.”

“I’ll be fuckin’ fine.”

“I’m sure you will. Still though, most people flinch, so I figured I’d warn you anyways.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything in response, just flares his nostrils as you spread the anesthetic over his arm. True to your words, he does flinch at first, and that only seems to piss him off more. You can’t really see his face from where you’re hunched over his forearm, but you’re sure he’s probably scowling. You wait a few moments for the gel to activate, and then you’re opening your kit and lacing thread through your needle. Thankfully your arm feels steady today, and it’s easy work as you begin stitching up his wound. 

Bakugou’s a pretty good patient. Surprisingly. He breathes quietly through his teeth, fist clenched as he tries so very hard not to admit his discomfort. He actually reminds you a lot of the children you so often treat. 

You find an easy rhythm sewing him up, your fingers gently prodding his arm as you work. You do your best to be delicate, treating him just as gently as you would any other patient- even if he irritated you. When you look up at him, Bakugou just traps his bottom lip between his teeth and creases his eyebrows. Those same red eyes study you again, almost looking right through you. You hold eye contact for as long as you can stand, but under his intense gaze it’s less than a few seconds.

“Alright. Almost done.” You mutter softly, dropping your eyes back down to his arm. You resume your stitching, eyebrows drawn together in concentration. “Thanks for keeping still for me.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” He grumbles, but his voice is a little softer now. He seems almost calmer, none of the bite from earlier coating his words. “Nothin’ special.”

“No, really. I mean it. You wouldn’t believe how much harder it is to treat somebody who’s panicking.”

“It wouldn’t be difficult if you weren’t such a shitty nurse.”

“If you didn’t want to be treated by me, you could’ve asked for somebody else. But you didn’t.” You comment easily, taking the kit’s scissors and cutting the thread. “You really missed your chance- could’ve caused a whole scene, Bakugou.”

“No thanks.”

“Wow, and here I thought you actively enjoyed making as big a scene as possible. Guess not.” You can’t help but tease, smiling slightly. “Or did you just want an excuse to come and bleed all over me again?”

“That’s- no. Shut up. You’re annoying.” Bakugou barks, blushing slightly as he turns his head away. “Fuckin’ witch.” 

“You really shouldn’t call me names when I’m the one treating your wounds.”

“I’ll do whatever the hell I want. And you started it, fuckin’ pryin’ around in my head.” 

“I wasn’t prying.” You tell him, turning away as you grab new gauze and bandages. “I was bringing you out of shock. I’m sure you don’t remember, but you were threatening to blow my entire apartment up.”

“No! I wasn’t! You just wanted to fuckin’-”

“Wanted to what? Help you? Stabilize your condition? Make sure you didn’t die out on my balcony?” You press the gauze carefully over his stitches, making sure none of the sutures catch on the cloth. “Yeah. Guess I did want to do that.” 

“Still shouldn’t a fuckin’ done it.”

“Okay, well I did, and I’m still sorry if it felt invasive. Believe me, I wouldn’t have done it unless it was absolutely necessary.”  You tell him honestly, trying to catch his gaze even as he avoids looking at you. “And, it was months ago, you know? So no point holding a grudge. Especially since I’ll probably be seeing a lot more of you from now on.”

“What, you think I’m gonna get myself killed again? Fat fuckin’ chance. I’m not that fucking weak.”

“Are you always this defensive?” You ask him, wrapping the bandages gently around his arm. “I meant, this hospital’s the main center for relief efforts, alright; so even if you try to avoid me, we’re bound to see each other if you ever end up back here for whatever reason. I wasn’t insinuating that you’d definitely get hurt again.”

“Fuckin’ sounded like it.”

“I didn’t mean for it to.”

“Yeah whatever. Pick up the goddamn pace.” He rolls his eyes, dramatically swinging his hurt leg up onto the table. You’re sure it has to hurt, but Bakugou keeps his pride. He doesn’t even wince. “My leg’s not gonna fix itself. Get the fuck to it already.”

“Okay, alright. You got it.”

Luckily, you don’t have to cut the material of his hero costume away just yet. His pants are already torn, thin, scattered slices exposing his leg all the way to the tops of his thighs. When you take a look at his knee, you’re not pleased with what you find.

Removing the gauze unearths a strange web of metal shards sticking out of his skin. They don’t seem to be stuck worryingly deep, but there’s a lot of them and some of them are quite large. You’re gonna need to pluck them all out, and give stitches for the big ones. Your short visit with Bakugou just got a lot longer.

“Alright. So this is gonna take some time, but the good news is, nothing is actively bleeding on your knee.” You tell him. “So, I’m thinking I’m gonna sew up the cut on your forehead first, alright? Head wounds bleed a lot more. That should be taken care of first.”

“Fuck are you tellin’ me, for? Your job, you do it.”

“Oh- yeah. Sorry.” You apologize. “Guess I’m used to treating kids. Lots of mom’s hanging around and asking questions, you know?”

“No. ‘m not a fuckin’ nurse.”

“No, you are not.” You breathe out, hardly able to keep the sarcastic tone out of your voice. “Okay, I’m gonna need you to lie back for me.”

He grumbles, but falls back anyways. You sigh in relief, grateful for his acquiescence. You honestly thought you’d have to fight with him about that.

You begin the process all over again- cleaning, applying gel, and then stitching the wound close. Bakugou doesn’t say anything while you work, but he does let his eyes flutter shut. He kept them open at first, staring you down relentlessly, but eventually he doesn’t seem to like all the unintentional eye-contact as you lean over him. You think it’s strange- the way he seems to melt into the hospital bed even as you’re sewing up his forehead. You begin to realize that his day was probably just as long as yours, if not longer.

You fall into an easy rhythm again, and time passes peacefully before you know it.

“You almost done?” He peeks an eye open, voice gravelly when he speaks.

“Yep. Almost. Just one more up here and then we can move on to your knee.”

“You can move on to my knee. I’m not doin’ shit.”

“Oh my,” You mutter under your breath, cutting the thread with your scissors. You clear your throat before speaking again. “So are you always this difficult with the other nurses?”

“No. Only the dipshits who go diggin’ around in my fuckin’ head.”

“Well, I only have to dig when people threaten to blow up my apartment.”

Bakugou doesn’t seem to have a response to that. He just closes his eyes and huffs through his nose, ending the conversation entirely.

That’s fine with you- if he wants to stay quiet, you’re not complaining.

It’s quiet as you begin working on his knee, nothing but the soft metallic clink of your tools and Bakugou’s own breaths. You think it’s a strange sort of calm, but also a little nice too. You’d been worked to the bone all day, rushing and scrambling and giving instructions- it was nice to just sit back and focus on one thing at a time.

You think Bakugou must feel it too, because when you look up at him he’s still lying back. He’s got his head pressed back into the pillow, his uninjured arm thrown over his eyes while the injured one lies across his stomach. His index finger is still blue, but not any more blue than it was when he walked in. You’re not sure how he’s managing to look so relaxed, despite being in what you guessed was a fair amount of pain.

You wonder what kind of day he had that made his hospital visit out to be the most relaxing part. You try not to think about it too long- try not to fit that anger and terror you felt into a make-believe narrative.

“Alright. That around does it for that.” You say softly, wrapping a bandage around his knee. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened? With the metal- it doesn’t look like any shrapnel I’ve ever seen before.”

“It’s not.” He drops his hand from across his face, voice deeper and slower than before. Groggy almost. “Fucker had a metal quirk. Shattered a car right next to me.”

“Oh. That really doesn’t sound fun. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Don’t apologize for stupid shit.”

You find that oddly ironic- pretty much your entire job was apologizing and showing understanding for things that weren’t your fault. You decide there and then, without a single shadow of a doubt, Bakugou would make the worst nurse in the world. Far shittier than you, no matter what he said.

“All that’s left now is your finger.” You say, grabbing at his hand gently. “Sorry if this hurts, but I’ve gotta feel and see if it’s broken. I’m fairly sure it’s sprained, but just in case.”

“Whatever.”

“Wow, no fight? None at all?” You joke, applying as gentle pressure as you could to his finger. “You tired or something?”

Bakugou just nods, letting his eyes shut once more.

Up close again, you notice the circles under his eyes, the paleness of his skin. His face doesn’t even contort as you prod at his finger, and it almost breaks your heart when you realize how high his pain tolerance must be. The only way he’d be able to be even half as calm as he currently was, was if he was getting hurt like that on the regular. Which, you figure, probably comes with the job description in his case- but the thought still flooded you with sympathy anyway.

“All good, just a pretty severe sprain.” You tell him. “Now, metal splint or dressings? Your choice.”

“Dressings.”

You squint a little bit, at him. You’re pretty sure a metal splint would be easier, and more convenient, but he looks pretty sure in his choice. You shrug, figuring that you did give him the choice for a reason. Maybe he just finds dressings more comfortable.

You dig out an ace bandage from your medical cart, setting it on the hospital bed as Bakugou sits up. He still looks a little tired, breaths slow and even as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes. You figure he must suffering a pretty serious adrenaline crash- if he���s not, then you’re not sure what the attitude change is about. He just looks so calm, so quiet that you almost can’t place him as the same angry guy you’d been faced with earlier. 

You unwind the bandage, taking his hand into yours. His palms are strange, calloused and tough, unnatural heat radiating off of them. It’s a little hard to ignore, but you figure it’s just his quirk, so you press on without comment. You’re pressing his index and middle fingers together, half-way through wrapping the bandage around them when he speaks.

“Too lose. Do it again.”

“It’s not loose, I promise. I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s loose.” He says again, more insistently this time. “Do it again.”

“Okay.” You sigh, figuring that starting over entirely would still somehow take less time than fighting with him. “But just this once, alright? As an apology for ‘digging around’ in your head.” 

Bakugou just nods tightly. 

When you start again, you try a different approach. You’d been trying to avoid touching him earlier, to soothe his worries about your quirk, but you start to think that maybe it caused your splinting to suffer. You decide to just go about it normally this time, grabbing his wrist and flipping it upwards just like you usually would. Bakugou seems to stiffen for a moment, but then he’s huffing a breath and lolling his head forward to his chest. You watch his eyes flutter shut.

You think that’s a strange reaction. You really expected him to put up more of a fuss about your touching him- he doesn’t though, and you take the little win. Chalk it up to just how tired he seems to be.

“There- you’re all done now.” You say quietly, pressing the adhesive side of the bandage into place. “Everything feel good? Need anything else?”

He shakes his head, blinking his eyes open blearily. If you didn’t know any better, you really would’ve thought he’d fallen asleep while you were caring for him. Well, you figure, guess that makes twice now that’s nearly passed out beneath your fingers.

You think that’s pretty funny, but you keep it to yourself. Bakugou seems to be feeling relatively pleasant, and you don’t want to jinx it.

“Alright, so concerning the splint, wear it for at least a few weeks, and then take it from there, alright? And all the stitches are dissolvable except for the ones in your arm. Those ones will need to come out in about a week or so, but that’s a super simple procedure. You could probably get them removed in the med-wing at your complex. No need for a follow-up her-”

“No. I’ll be here.”

“You don’t have to. I can just write up some instructions and send you back, no problem. Really, it’s-’

“I said I’d be here, so I’ll fuckin’ be here.” He grumbles, clearing his throat. Bakugou averts his gaze, turning towards the window to avoid your eyes. “You did the stitches so you take them out. You’re not gonna fuckin’ get away with cuttin’ corners on me.” 

“Yeah. Okay. Whatever you want, I guess.” You say, a bit unsurely. “So I’ll see you in a week or so, alright? Somebody’ll give you a call.”

“Whatever.”

Bakugou then hops down from the bed, and you wince at the sound of his impact. You’d seen his knee first-hand, and you imagined that it probably hurt a lot to walk on it. He seemed unaffected though, shouldering his weight without fuss and hardly even limping as he walks out. The only sign he’s even slightly in pain, is the grunt that leaves him when he accidentally tries the door handle with his injured hand. 

He’s so quick that you can’t even ask him if he wants crutches or not. The thought hardly even enters your head before he slams the door shut behind him.

--/--

taglist:  @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3

[prof-peach]

Hello professor, I have a pretty heavy question I’m afraid, but I’m running out of people to ask, so I’ll try my best to keep it PG13.

It’s my Mienshao, Daisy. Up until recently, she and I were members of a police task force tasked with rooting out illegal Pokemon smuggling rings and underground high stakes tournaments. We’ve been partners for a long time, me and Daisy, we grew up together, and I dare say we made a great team. But then things went wrong.

For the sake of security I can’t go into too much detail, but we were participating in a raid when we got ambushed. Someone must have tipped the smugglers off, because they were waiting for us when we got there. During the firefight, there was an explosion, a gas tank got set on fire by a charizard, I believe, and Daisy and I happened to be close. She got out with a few minor burns and scrapes, I... Did not.

I’ll spare you the gory details, but I have been confined to a wheel chair ever since, and I am due to be fitted for a prosthetic leg next week.

I won’t lie, the transition has been hard for everybody, me, my friends, my family. My other Pokémon have been hovering around me like over protective nannies for weeks. But I think out of all of us, Daisy has been taking it the hardest. Half of the day she spends locked to my side like a bodyguard, threatening to punch anyone that gets too close into oblivion. And the other half, well...

She’s started putting herself through some kind of hellish self training routine. Doing katas until she all but collapses from exhaustion, running laps for hours, fighting every Pokemon she can convince to fight, wild or trained. Daisy’s always been tough, and she’s always loved training, but this... This isn’t training, it’s a death march. I’m getting extremely worried, and that’s not even everything!

She’s stopped eating her favorite foods, deliberately choosing ones I know she hates, she won’t let me pet her anymore, she just steps out of reach, trying not to look at me. But most worryingly, she’s started cutting off her whiskers. She’s always been so proud of her whiskers, she groomed them every day, always got grumpy when I teased her for having a big ol’ mustache. Now anytime they get longer than an inch, she slices them off with her claws and throws them in fireplace, like some kind ceromony.

I’m almost certain Daisy feels guilty for coming out mostly unscathed, when I didn’t. She’s always been a bit protective, even before we joined the police, and she’s saved my life multiple times out in the field, but now she feels like she’s failed me, I think. I’ve tried to convince her that it wasn’t her fault, but that only seems to redouble her efforts. I’m terrified she’s going to burn herself out if she keeps going like this, and I don’t know what to do.

I know this is a pretty heavy question, but I I’m not sure who else to ask. Is there anything I can do to convince her that she doesn’t need to hurt herself like this? Or, something? Just anything to help! Losing my leg was jarring, but losing Daisy would be unbearable!... I just... I just want my best friend to be okay.

I am sorry for what you’ve been through, I cannot begin to understand what it’s like to be in your shoes, but like all recovery, physical or mental, this will take a fair bit of time to get past, you both may never fully return to how things were, but it can get better and you can both return to a full life together with work and dedication.

I’ve certainly seen Pokemon go to extreme lengths after dangerous incidents to protect their loved ones or themselves, in this case it would be wise to assume your pokemons suffering with a hefty bill of PTSD, and needs some actual therapy to handle the feelings and thoughts they’re having. We have facilities to accommodate that if you’re local to Johto, but most Pokemon centres will be able to put you in contact with reliable and certified practices to begin unravelling the issues that now plague Daisy.

That she considers herself to have come away reasonably unscathed is not true, yes your life has physically changed, but she needs to step back and take a look at her life too. Everything’s different now, and more specifically how she’s treating herself and handling her feelings. If that’s not trauma and injury, I don’t know what else it could be. You both came away with damage that day, physical or not. The first step is to help her see that, and to begin to understand that despite this all, you can both continue to move forward together if you can overcome the injury together, it is an event you shared, and you two can aid each others recovery with time and care.

There’s some seriously gifted therapists out there, those who study for years and can help far more than me, they’ll take time to break down the events, and start to really get into the feelings that your partner is going through. The cycle for Daisy right now comes around to self-punishment, and seems to be stuck on a loop. She needs time and space to process her feelings of guilt, grief, fear and loss, facing them instead of burying herself in her rigorous training. While it is difficult to discuss, you two have a strong bond that means you could talk with her. Try to remind her who’s truly responsible, she may be blaming herself, which is pretty common in these situations, but at the root of it, you were doing your routine job, and the bad guys, the Pokemon smugglers and goons are to blame. THEY caused the issue, not her, and while it may not sink in right away it’s worth saying, and sticking to. You said you told her that it wasn’t her fault, which is the gut reaction, perhaps giving her a logical target instead of herself will work better for now. Reiterating the true issue, and taking the heat off of her may help with other tasks such as self care, later down the recovery road.

Her guilt will feel terrible, but it kind of works as a protector, keeping her distanced from the worse, more overwhelming feelings of helplessness and powerlessness. In fact the guilt that masks this all will slowly make things worse over time. That underlying intense emotion below the guilt is what you both need to work through, but more than anything, she needs to face it, in her own time, come to terms with it, and eventually (hopefully) come to an understanding that life is an endless cycle of events, things will happen, but you have to pick yourself up and turn the lemons into lemonade. She could have lost you that day, that you came away with your life is a miracle, and now you two get more time together because of that. Luck isn’t something that runs out, it’s not like there’s only so much of it to go around, it is like wining the lottery. Sometimes 20 people win, other times no one does. It’s hard to accept, but there’s no greater order to stuff that happens, but when we can come to this conclusion, it’s oddly freeing. I’ve seen a fair few Pokemon in a symilar state who can move on when they realise there’s an odd randomness to the world and everything that goes on.

This is a job for someone with far greater skills than I, but you must help her by also looking after yourself, laugh when you can, show her that your life is still very full, and that you have loved ones, and joy to share with others. You mentioned that you’re due a prosthetic, and though the transition will be long and no doubt a little difficult at first, getting yourself back on two feet (kind of) will show her, and your other Pokemon that you’re willing to move forward. I think there’s a lot to be said about talking during this all. She wants to fight, to be strong, if this is how she’s going to cope, fine. If she’s out training, sit with her, spend whatever time you can by her side, as she’s taking this the hardest. You don’t have to say a thing, just try to do your best, without putting yourself in too much discomfort or pain. Reminding her who would be devastated if it had been her who got hurt, if she was not around, may help ground her back in reality a bit. You both got granted a gift that day, you came away alive, if she works so hard she burns out, that gift was wasted. She can use her kindness, and strength to help you, she can pass her knowledge and skill forward, but it’s hard to help others, and do your best if you’re exhausted beyond reason. Kind of like trying to give people bread from a basket but the damn basket is empty yknow? You got to take time to refill so you can help those around you again, so you have some bread to give. I know, probably sounds a little dumb but it’s always been the way I remember it.

Another very useful thing I’ve found with trauma survivors would be meeting others who have been in the same position. There’s plenty of support groups for both people and Pokemon who have been through events that left them in a difficult situation, emotionally and physically. Even here at the lab we have many species who have been left without limbs, with life changing damage, and a lot of them also have the emotional trauma too. She would probably do well to spend time with them, you can send her to a resort to retreat and recoup erase, mix with others who were just as angry as she is now, or you can take time to go with her to groups to interact with others. It’s one thing to have humans help, but it’s a whole other level of connection when Pokemon can help their own. They bond quicker, trust faster, and generally are more open to listening when it’s coming from a place of mutual experience. If she had time to talk to pokemon who actually lost their trainers, or parts of themselves, she may find some peace, even if only temporarily.

Don’t mention the whiskers, and where possible don’t offer her foods she actively likes, but also not ones she actively dislikes. Just for now. Start the ball rolling with just plain simple things that are neither good or bad. Indifferent is better than bad right now, the punishment she’s inflicting on herself will need addressing further, so contact a therapist, they use Rotom or porygon to translate from poke-speech to human language, and the repair can begin with a registered professional. My advice is not sound proof, I certainly feel like I have missed something important, it’s a big response, but it’s a start in the right direction, and should you come up to any further issues, message back and update us with what’s going on. With work you two will be on track to recover. Remember, patience is the biggest thing here, you two have history, and a therapist will no doubt take the sessions as a pair, and work with you to help Daisy feel less guilty over time. I hope you both find peace, and that both of you repair in due time. Good luck with the new leg, a step towards recovery for sure.

[morkleemelon]

off the ice || chapter 3: steady now

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, college au, sports au

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing, party with drugs and alcohol, scene of borderline harassment (nothing actually happens), financial struggle, insecurity, social anxiety, mention of injury

a/n: huge thank you to my beta readers @writing-frog​ and @skiimmiilk for helping me edit this! now I won’t have to tweak it a hundred times after posting XD also (not spoiling) I’m sorry I did you like this, sungchan :(

I’m not sure if I’m awake, dead, or dreaming, but somebody please take me out of this misery.

Your neck struggled to support your head as you fought to stay conscious on the locker room bench. It was early Saturday morning and team practice was far from over. Unwillingly, you had to stay up the previous night, studying deep into the AM because a certain boy kept distracting you in your head.

Over and over again, through your shift at the diner to the ride home to right here as you clung onto Yuna’s arm for support, Mark’s cute smile and Lisa’s daring accusations spun through your tired mind. It’s really not fair- a guy talks to you once and you’re already imagining things…

You quickly shake the thoughts from your head. 

  “Alright girls, thanks for coming in so early today,” your head skating coach, Tanya, smiled warmly, “captains, get everyone warmed up and I’ll go over some exciting announcements at the end of practice”.

“Thank you, Tanya,” the fatigued girls chorused half-heartedly as the captains ushered everyone out of the locker room and into the hallway for stretching. 

Reaching down to touch her toes, Yuna looks over to you. “Y/n, are you okay? You look worse than usual”.

The exhausted expression on your face said it all as you bent down to do the same. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Econ test is coming up too”. You yawned into your words.

“I know you’re gonna say no, but if you wanna let loose a little, there’s a party tonight,” Yuna peers at you upside-down from in between her legs.

“You know I’m not a party person,” you decline, blacking out slightly as you stand back up. You blink to clear your vision.

As much as you admired your popular best friend for putting herself out there and being able to have fun at a party, it couldn’t be you. The drinking, the smoking, the groping, ogling men- not to mention the anxiety of existing in a frat house full of judgmental people, was all too much for you. As tempting as letting loose a little on a Saturday night sounded, you’d much rather do it in a way that involves your cozy pj’s and watching your favorite skating compilations on YouTube. Alone.

“I know, I know,” Yuna holds her hands up innocently, “but it could be fun. I know Mark is gonna be there”.

You whip your head around so fast that your ponytail nearly slaps her in the face. Flustered, you smooth down the nonexistent wrinkles on the front of your skating jacket. “Oh, that’s nice. What’s that got to do with me?”.

“Just letting you know,” Yuna shrugged in a ‘matter of fact’ manner. 

The captains led the team out to the rink to do laps. You weighed Yuna’s words for a minute as you skated across the ice. Naturally, being here where you were the most comfortable with yourself made you more susceptible to her convincing ploy. If you looked at the last few days in review, you had already made four new friends from just letting Yuna take the reins for one afternoon. That’s about one friend for every dollar in your bank account!

But the nagging reality was that Yuna had a massive amount of friends, cool friends, who were probably going to be at that very party while you had nobody but her and a guy you just met. This didn’t sit well with your anxieties. You’ll just end up awkward if Yuna wants to talk to someone else, or desperate if you cling to Mark, who would probably be weirded out.

As expected, it’s best to stay in.

The practice ran smoothly. As always, the hour and a half of spinning, falling, and getting back up resulted in soreness and loss of breath. Nonetheless, it recharged you and the cloud of tiredness in your head finally dissipated. You felt so free on the ice because you knew that you did it well. It isn’t about the money or your popularity or if you have to work part time just to afford the skates that you wear. If you put in the hard work and effort, you are rewarded with success; that’s a big part of what you liked about it. 

“Excellent job today, ladies. I’d like everyone to give a special round of applause to y/n today,” Coach Tanya suddenly singled you out as the team gathered around to hear her ending announcements. Tanya gave you a warm smile and gestured towards you as you bow to your clapping teammates. “For mastering the triple lutz. I can tell you’ve been practicing extra hours, both from the log sheet and from your performance today. At this rate, we may send you to nationals in the spring”.

Gasps echo across the cold, near-empty stadium. Your jaw hung open at Tanya’s ambitious plan and Yuna grabbed onto your arm excitedly, giving you a nudge of congratulations. It was extremely rare for a sophomore to be sent to the national competitions. Even some seniors never make it past the pre-auditions at Seoul University alone. You weren’t even dreaming of going within the next year despite all of your extra night-time practices. Looking at Tanya’s face, it didn’t seem like she was joking either.

“Thank you, Coach Tanya. I will work even harder”.

“That being said, I have some exciting news pertaining to all of you ladies: this year, Seoul University is sponsoring our team to hold a friendly competition for the winter festival as a sort of main event. Don’t be alarmed because it is optional. It’s September now, so if you are interested in participating, you will have just under four months to prepare a pair skate for the festival in December. Untraditionally, the audience will be voting to choose a winner instead of a panel. Furthermore, the theme, costumes, and music will all be up to you, so have fun with it! Oh and not to mention, the winning pair will be rewarded a monetary prize of $5,000 each”.

Shocked looks were exchanged between teammates. Your brain was still processing to make sure you heard Tanya right as she reiterated.

“Yes,” Tanya laughed, “you heard me right, girls, $5,000 each. It’s a tremendous opportunity and if not for the money, for a chance to practice performing in front of a crowd”.

Murmurs of excitement hush across the near-empty stadium.

“Yuna,” you look up to the taller girl and grip her arm with both hands, “Yuna please we gotta do this”. You shake her slightly with your pleading, “be my partner?”.

The blonde giggled, “duh, of course! Lisa and Hope will probably do it together since they’re both on JV so it’s perfect. Let’s get that ten grand for you!”.

“Wait no, but-”

“Y/n. You know I’m not about to argue with you about this,” Yuna sighed, looking up to the fluorescent ceiling lights to avoid your indignant stare. You relaxed your grip on her arm, knowing that you wouldn’t win this fight no matter how guilty you felt. “You’re better than me by a long shot. If anyone could bet on a winner, they’d put their money on you without a doubt. And if we win it’ll be because of you, so think of it as a fair split based on contribution. I’ll take a $20 cut to buy us dinner,” Yuna encouraged. 

You close your eyes and rest the side of your head on her shoulder.

That’s my best friend. I don’t deserve her.

You felt bad, but you knew that you needed this money more than anything right now. Your parents didn’t earn much and they were already burdened by this semester’s tuition, even with the scholarships. Picking up extra shifts at Frankie’s did little more than cover skating fees and rent. The heavy, looming fear of next semester being the one when you’d have to drop out often kept you up at night. It’s nobody’s fault, but that’s how it is.

Yet like a miracle angel sent from Heaven, this competition could cover an entire semester’s worth of tuition if you win. You needed the prize money desperately. You were going to have to win it no matter what.

“Bye!”. You waved to your teammates as they exited the locker room, probably to go out and be social on a Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately for you, your only plans were to sit alone at the library, studying.

“You seriously don’t wanna join us for lunch today?”. Yuna slung her skating bag over her shoulder. Her wet hair from just showering stuck to her face, but even like this she looked like she could be on the cover of a teen magazine.

“I’ll pass. I can grab a salad from the convenience store before I head to the library. Midterms are coming up and I gotta do a lot of review,” you explain, brushing a wide comb through your tangled mess of hair. Yuna moved to pull her hair back into a ponytail. You watched as her perfectly sculpted reflection made an action so simple into a reason for envy. The stained locker room mirror, however, did your bare face no favors. Your best friend remained oblivious as you picked yourself apart again. Your cheeks were a little too round, nose a little too wide, eyebrows a little too uneven. You shove the brush in your bag and turn around before you could fall deeper in insecurity. “Let’s go”.

As always, you chose to disregard your insecure thoughts and pretend like they never existed. Talking about it seemed weird, so you just chose not to do it. And you didn’t like bothering other people with your problems either. It was best to just keep it to yourself. 

“Y/n!,” a familiar voice called out from behind you. You stopped walking down the stadium corridor, turning around to see who could’ve known your name. Usually it’s Yuna getting stopped by one of her many friends.

Ashy blonde hair came into view as the boy jogged to catch up with you. Your legs were doing just fine after over an hour and a half of training, but they trembled at the sight of a certain dreamy junior boy.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” Mark smiled down at you, the dim hallway lights catching on his cheekbones and jawline, accentuating his beautifully sculpted features. 

“I’ll see you later,” Yuna winked, patting you on the back and making a break for the exit before you could protest.

“I-uh, hey, Mark,” you stutter. Was it just you or did he get even more good-looking since the last time you saw him?

“Did you guys just get out of practice?”. You could hardly pay attention to his simple question as you checked him out. Mark sported a simple outfit consisting of a plain black hoodie with matching black joggers and sneakers. His red hockey bag which was slung across his back was supported by one of his thumbs. With the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, you watch as the lines of his forearm muscles shift and strain with each fine movement from the weight of the duffel.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah! We did,” you answer after an awkward pause. Oh, God, please let that not have been weird. “Are you here for your practice?”. You mentally slap yourself for your stupid question; he’s wearing gym clothes and has his hockey gear, what else was he going to do at the rink?

“Yeah, I am,” Mark laughed good-naturedly, leaning slightly on the wall next to you, “I came here a bit early, actually. I was hoping to catch you”.

Catch...me?

Your face flushed at his heart-fluttering remark. Contesting with the urge to spontaneously burst into flames, you try your best to give a steady reply, “Oh! What for?”.

“I-uh,” Mark diverted his gaze down to his shoes, “I know I got your number from the group chat, but I wanted to ask you in person. There’s a party tonight at the sheep’s house- my friend’s house- and I was wondering if I was gonna see you there”.

You simultaneously wanted to sink into the floor to disappear forever and jump into the air to celebrate. You did neither. 

Was he asking you out? Not really. But then again, he wants to see you there at the party. And he came here early to specially ask you in person. 

You replay the debate you had with Yuna earlier. Past-you had made some valid points about not going, but how could you say no when he put it like this?… oh, fuck it.

“For sure. I’ll be there”. You offer a wry smile to try to cover your nervousness.

“Awesome,” Mark’s eyes twinkled as he smiled, “can’t wait to see you tonight, then”. 

“Can’t wait,” you echoed. You couldn’t help but notice how he was a few inches taller and you had to tilt your head back to meet his soft, brown eyes.

“I should probably get down to the rink to set up for practice”

“Oh okay! Don’t let me keep you”

“Not at all”. His fingers shifted to adjust the strap of his hockey bag and your eyes brushed over the ripple of his forearm. He was doing the bare-minimum and your knees were ready to buckle in the middle of the hallway. 

“I’ll get going then!,” you excuse yourself with a curt wave. Turning around, you head briskly for the exit before you could embarrass yourself further and agree to more irrational proposals. 

Before your hand could even touch the exit door to let yourself out, reality hit.

Oh no. I have to go to the party.

Yuna squealed and pounced you onto your bed as you told her the news. “I can’t believe it! You’re really gonna go?”.

You run a stressed hand through your wavy locks, “I guess? He didn’t leave me much of a choice”. Rolling around on your bed, your best friend clapped and cheered despite your wanting to travel back in time and tell Mark you couldn’t make it. But how were you supposed to say no to that face? Thanks to this, your library study session was far from focused or helpful.

“We gotta get you looking hot, y/n. I mean, you’re already hot,” Yuna corrected, “but even more hot for your first college party”.

Hopping off your now messed-up covers, you go to observe yourself in the full-body mirror in all your said ‘hotness’. You were currently enveloped in a grouchy oversized tee shirt that you got from a choir field trip in high school paired with plain gym shorts hidden underneath. Your hair was especially frizzy from being air-dried after your shower. 

“The only hot I am is a hot mess,” you groaned. Did you look like this when Mark saw you earlier? Shit.

“Nonsense, silly,” Yuna hugged you from behind, “you’re adorable and you’d be surprised how much hair, makeup, and a good fit can change someone”. She looked into your eyes eagerly through the mirror as if asking for permission. You were too nervous about the party to deny her so you gave your roommate a reluctant nod. It was better that she helped you get ready so you could fit in and thus blend into the background.

Squealing again, Yuna gave you a squeeze and scurried to flit through her closet for something you could wear. 

“Go straighten your hair, y/n!”

“Yes ma’am”. This much you could do. “How’s this?”. Yuna held up a skimpy bralette top, its white lace barely covering any surface area at all. 

“That’s a top?!”

“Ok nevermind”. Tossing the tiny piece aside, your roommate continued sifting earnestly through her collection of expensive clothes.

You ran the straightener through your partitioned hair carefully. 

“What about this one?”. Yuna held up a simple red crop top. A small notch ran an inch down the neckline which gave it a little edge, but it seemed like it would be in your comfort zone.

“That’s perfect,” you smile.

Hair now pin straight and finally smooth, you change into the red top and ripped black denim shorts Yuna picked out for you. Your best friend was much better at makeup than you were, so you let her take the lead once again. The only times you wear full makeup are for performances and you would look like a complete clown if you showed up with the two inch eyeliner you knew how to do. 

Applying a small amount of base makeup to your face, Yuna went for a more natural look, knowing that you weren’t comfortable with standing out too much. Subtle brown eyeshadow and lengthening mascara made your eyes pop just the right amount and a cherry lip balm tinted your lips a translucent, shiny red. Even you had to admit your confidence was boosted from the new look you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror. 

That’s me. I’m… kind of pretty

“Aw, honey, you look so beautiful,” Yuna cooed, wrapping up your makeover with a clap. She did her own makeup effortlessly and put on the discarded bralette from earlier. However ridiculous it looked on the hanger, she made it look like a million bucks and it suited her perfectly. 

You moved to sit on your bed and lace up your trusty white sneakers. Yuna wore a bigger shoe size than you which came as a relief because you weren’t sure if you could handle wearing any of the daring stiletto pumps in her collection. 

“You know, I’m so happy you’re going to come this time. I was always really sad when you stayed home studying every weekend instead of going out and having fun”.

“I would’ve gone if I knew how to talk to people,” you reason, picking at the dirty aglet of your shoelace, “and I’m honestly really nervous right now. You better not leave me, okay?”.

“You’re so sweet and thoughtful, anyone would be lucky to talk to you! I know it’s easier said than done, but you’d be surprised what a little confidence will do. And of course, I won’t leave you”. Yuna gave you a bright, reassuring smile before pulling you off the bed. 

You take one last look at your reflection in the mirror.

That’s right, confidence. I’m confident.

“Let’s go”

The walk down to the party was much shorter than you expected. Turns out, the ‘Sheep’ lived in that sketchy house just off of campus which you made a point to avoid during your nighttime jogs. The tables were turning as you approached the rickety front porch on purpose. You clung to Yuna as an array of neon lights shines through the window blinds and the open door. The bass of a generic pop song jolted through your bones. 

Walking into the home, your grip on Yuna’s arm tightened as unfamiliar faces surrounded you. The crowded room stank of sweaty bodies and weed. A countertop stocked full of red solo cups and different types of alcohol was visible from where you stood. Heads turned to stare at Yuna while the two of you entered.

What am I doing here?

“Hey, you made it!,” an unfamiliar voice shouted from over the ruckus. Your eyes fell nervously on the voice’s owner. He had dark brown hair and sharp, defined features. His accent was strange, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

“Hey!”. Yuna brought the stranger in for a loose hug. “Yangyang, this my roommate and best friend, y/n. Y/n this is Yangyang also known as ‘the sheep’. He’s from Germany”.

Ah, Germany.

You offer him a small wave, surprised when he pulls you unexpectedly into a hug. 

“Nice to meet you, y/n. Mark’s told me all about you,” Yangyang smirked, “please help yourself to drinks, girls. The guys are in the basement playing pong”.

“Woo! Let’s get wasted!” Yuna yelled while pulling you towards the drinks.

You stood awkwardly at her side as she poured both of you drinks- a half a solo cup of strawberry vodka for her and a sprite zero for you. You wish you could be in bed, curled up alone with a good movie. Or even at the library studying-

“Hey,” a deep voice right next to your ear wrecked your train of thought. Alarmed, your eyes were met with the middle of a chest as you turned around to see who it was. Craning your head back, an unfamiliar, tall boy with stiffly-gelled brown hair looked down at you. You winced at the acrid smell of axe body spray now flooding your nostrils. He looked young, maybe even younger than you, but he was clearly very drunk. “Where have you been all my life?”.

“Excuse me?,” you exclaim over the booming music. The boy placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. Looking over to find Yuna, she had already shifted deeper into the crowd and was busy talking with other people. 

“I’m Sungchan,” the boy unwelcomingly introduced, “what’s your name, beautiful?”.

“I-uh I’m y/n,” you stuttered. Sungchan’s face was way too close for comfort and his breath stank of cheap alcohol. You felt his humid exhalation brush over the top of your head like a toxic cloud and you fought to not gag.

“Y/n. You come here with anyone?”. You pressed your back as far into the counter as you could to get away from him, but there was little room to go. Fear began to set in as you realized you were trapped. What should I say? What do I do?

“I-I…” 

“She came here with me”. A firm hand gripped Sungchan’s left arm and yanked it forcefully away from the counter. Your saving grace put a gentle hand on your shoulder, tugging you slightly away from the drunk perpetrator. Struggling to comprehend what was happening, you looked up to see it was Mark, staring the intoxicated boy down. 

“C-captain”

“What’s a freshman doing with my girl?” Mark pressed. His expression was unamused. 

Your heart trembled at his unanticipated lie. His girl? Mark brushed a reassuring thumb over your shoulder, clueing to you that he would handle this. 

“I didn’t know, I-”

“Sungchan, right? You still trying to make varsity next year?,” Mark interrupted, eyebrows raised in annoyance at the freshman. Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he held both hands up innocently.

“Y-yes I-”

“Misconduct can get you kicked off the team, you know. Not to mention I’ll be senior captain next year so I’ll have a say in who makes it into varsity”.

“I’m sorry, captain, I really didn’t-”

“Fuck off”. Mark gestured his free hand towards the open front door. Sungchan looked around, as if unsure what to do. The surrounding party-goers danced and drank on, unaware of the altercation and more interested in who they were going home with tonight. Finally, the lanky boy’s head cleared enough to make a decision. Sungchan bowed slightly in apology and stumbled towards the exit. The untouched solo cup of sprite fizzed in your shaking hands.

“Are you okay?”. Mark faced you with a concerned look.

You clenched your grip tighter around your drink as you fought back tears, the shock wearing off and the gravity of the situation hitting you full-on. You set the cup down and shake your head no.

“Do you want to get out of here?”.

You nod your head vigorously and tears began streaming down your cheeks. What a waste, all of Yuna’s hard work down the drain. Mark nudged you forward and guided you towards a back door. Weaving your way through the crowd, Mark greeted his friends with a “hey” or a simple nod. You felt a few girls eye you discontentedly at the sight of Mark’s hand ghosting over the small of your back while others were too high or drunk to notice. The cool night air welcomed you as Mark urged you outside and you rushed to escape the cramped house. He shut the door behind him, muffling the heavy bass so you could finally hear yourself think.

Dabbing away at your tears so he wouldn’t see, you breathe deeply to regain your composure. 

“Thanks for that”. You managed to let out after a few minutes of sniffling and silence. Your voice was slightly hoarse and you couldn’t meet his eyes, but he waited patiently by your side. 

So much for coming to this party, he probably thinks I’m a mess. This whole thing was a huge mistake. 

“I think I’ll go. Sorry I can’t stay”. You turn to walk down the wooden porch steps.

“Wait-”. Mark’s voice halts your departure. “Would you like to go on a walk with me? Or I can at least take you home. I don’t want you going out alone after what just happened…”. 

Looking up at him, the dim porch light glowed behind him, giving him a soft golden halo. His brown eyes which were usually smiling now shone with worry as he scanned over your tear-stricken face. Your heart which was beating rapidly from fear earlier began to settle down in his reassuring presence. Being alone right now might not be the best idea. But more importantly, being with him sounded like what you really needed. You nod.

The sound of crickets chirping and sneakers scuffing took over as the two of you walked farther away from the booming music of the party. You weren’t sure where you were headed, but you also didn’t know if there was anywhere you wanted to go. Wandering down the deserted streets in comfortable silence, Mark followed you patiently as he waited for you to be ready to talk. Before you knew it, your feet brought you to the lake and you stood watching the water ripple under the night breeze. The moon, almost full, illuminated silver each ebb and flow.

“I’m sorry you’re missing the party”. You quietly broke the silence. You felt bad for making him leave. All of his friends were there and he probably really looked forward to it. 

“Don’t be. I only went so I could talk to you, anyways”

You look at him in surprise. Mark’s eyes remained glued to the lake, sparkling from the reflected moonlight.

“How many girls have you told that to?,” you scoff. Internally, you screamed.

“Couldn’t name another one”

You pause before resolving to stroll further down the lakeside. The sound of footsteps behind you confirmed that he was following. Stopping as you reach the familiar creaky wood, you take a seat on the worn-out dock, him on your right. You dangle your feet over the dark, sloshing waves. It was cool, despite the summer season. A breeze rolled by, making you shudder. However cute the crop top was, it didn’t do much to keep you warm. Not that you could have planned on running away from the party and needing a sweatshirt beforehand.

“Here, take this”. Mark unzipped his jacket to give to you.

“Oh it's ok-”. You couldn’t finish your protest before the warm fabric was draped across your shoulders. Your face grew pink once more. If you didn’t know better, you could be admitted to the hospital for how much you’ve been blushing recently. “Thanks,” you mutter, looking down at your hands with a small smile. 

“Is that Frankie’s?”. Mark’s voice cut through the silence.

“What?”

“Is that Frankie’s?,” Mark repeated, nodding at the small restaurant bordering the lake some distance away. It looked as if it had just closed, yellow fluorescent lights still on while a tired waitress scrubbed away at a table. Only one car, probably her’s, remained in the parking lot.

“Oh, yeah. That’s where I work part time,” you confirmed. “I come here to the dock to sit sometimes. You know, just to think”.

“I feel that. Sometimes everything is way too much to handle and you need to take time to breathe. I have a place like this too”

Mark’s sincere confession came as a surprise to you and unintentionally, it showed on your face.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Mark feigned hurt, putting a hand on his chest. “Do you think hockey guys can’t have feelings too? I have a fan club for heaven’s sake!”.

You laugh at his exaggerated outcry. 

“And that’s a bad thing? Don’t you guys like the attention? Attention from lots and lots of pretty girls”. You raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

“As if,” Mark ran a stressed hand through his hair, “they’re all crazy as hell. Honestly, none of the guys really like the attention”.

You nod in understanding. Seeing how the Lovelees acted the few times you were around them, you’d hate being the subject of their affections too.

“But how about you,” Mark continued, “I haven’t seen you much at parties”.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “if you couldn’t tell from tonight, I’m not much of a party girl. Today was my first and probably last party”. You had gotten so comfortable walking and talking with Mark that you had almost forgotten about the horrible incident that occurred earlier. Pulling the soft jacket over yourself more, your face falls as you remember Sungchan’s intoxicated face.

“Hey” Mark’s hand grazes over your slumped shoulders, bringing you back to focus on him. “I’ll never let him bother you again”. 

While you were unsure of how your makeup was holding up due to all the crying, his delicate features were all the more beautiful under the pale moonlight. You notice how close you’re sitting, knees almost brushing against each other’s and his face was but inches from yours. And even though you were wearing his jacket so he was left with only a tee shirt, you were sure you weren’t imagining the heat radiating from his body. Slowly, your eyes flutter down to his parted lips.

There it is once more, the hot flush in your cheeks and the strain in your chest. 

Meeting Mark has been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you felt undeniably comfortable sitting next to someone who would’ve been a stranger just a few days ago. Something about him felt familiar to you now and you trusted in his words. He was someone... safe. 

“Really?,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of his soft, pink lips. 

“Really”. His confirmation was too gentle to be heard above the sound of the rushing water below, but you read his lips as they shaped around the word.

Before you know it, you were leaning in, just enough so you knew you weren’t imagining it. A mellow breeze plays with your hair, causing a few strands to fall astray. Cautiously with his hand, Mark slowly tucks the fallen pieces back behind your ear. He hesitates there. The feeling of his warm fingertips sends tingles down your spine. Carefully scanning your expression to make sure you were okay, his hand inches down to gently cup your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips, his own not centimeters away. Your heart pounded rapidly as you gave an affirming nod. Closing your eyes, you wait.

This is happening.

A jolting vibration from your pocket caused your eyes to shoot right back open and Mark let go of you in surprise. Your phone kept buzzing, the harsh sound amplified by the wooden dock. Sighing in frustration, you struggle to remove it from your back pocket as Mark looks away, coughing awkwardly. Your face burned red from embarrassment.

Why does this always happen to me?

“Hello?”. Your tone was laced with annoyance.

“Y/n! Where aare youu?,” Yuna slurred. Trap music blared in the background confirming that she was still at the party. You could hear Ten asking if Mark was with you over the ruckus.

“I left. And yeah, Mark is here”. You put the phone on speaker and held it up towards the boy you were about to kiss moments ago. 

“Hey guys,” Mark said sheepishly. Yuna squealed in delight.

“That’s my boy!”. Ten’s booming voice took over the call.

“Stop it man,” Mark warned, increasingly agitated at the couple for ruining the moment.

“Okayy kids! Have fun, but not tooooo much fun”. Yuna giggled into the microphone. 

“I’m hanging up,” you said quickly before pushing the red button to end the call. Any longer and you weren’t sure you could resist throwing your phone (and perhaps yourself) into the lake. A brief moment of silence ensued, both parties unsure of what to do next. Was there anything you could do to save the moment after that? 

“I uh…,” you start.

“Yeah umm…,” Mark agreed. Silence ensued.

“Uhh…”. Your steady tone wavered as you started to giggle. The awkwardness dissipated because before you knew it, both of you were laughing wholeheartedly at the unfortunate situation. 

“Yuna tends to have great timing,” you explain.

“Mm. Ten does too,” Mark related, stroking his chin and nodding as if thinking deeply. 

“She said she wouldn’t leave me at the party but lo and behold”. You gesture to your surroundings, exasperated.

“That sucks,” Mark agreed, “you should have come found me. I was waiting for you, actually”.

“I was going to,” you picked at the zipper of his jacket, “but we had just gotten there when... you know”.

“Yeah. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. I don’t want to pressure you at all, but I’m always willing to listen”

“You’re,” you look for the right words, “you’re so amazing”. 

“Yeah?”

You keep your gaze in your lap, “Yeah. And you know, I wish we’d met earlier, Mark. Because it’s really nice talking to you and you’re a really great guy”. You check for his reaction.

“Yeah, I wish we met sooner too”. His expression was that of… adoration.

Being with Mark was so easy. Conversation came to you two easier than anything else in life did. And just like that, feet swinging in sync above the water, you talked for hours. He told you about his alien conspiracy theories and his aspirations to be a professional hockey player and then retire into sports medicine. You told him about your parents and how you missed them dearly because they worked way out of the city to support you and your dream. You did everything you could to be able to pay them back, even majoring in economics which was more profitable than environmental studies or professional skating. Mark listened thoughtfully and admitted that he related in a lot of ways with his parents being all the way in Canada. 

The night rushed by and the two of you talked until the golden peaks of sunrise painted the water from its usual blue. You had shifted so you were sitting facing each other on the dock. The early sunlight cast a warm glow over Mark’s face. He looked like a painting- a Monet. Or a Renoir.

“Um so, I guess it’s Sunday now”. Mark rested his chin into the crook of his elbow. You could hear the tired in his voice, but you mutually understood that neither of you wanted to leave.

“Do you have to go?”. You picked at a piece of fuzz on the sleeve of his sweatshirt which you were still wearing. The disappointment was evident in your question. Even though you had spent the whole night getting to know each other, it felt like you had just barely scratched the surface. There was still so much more you wanted to talk about. 

Checking his watch, Mark contemplated for a bit. 

“It’s 6:12 a.m. right now. I actually have to get somewhere by 6:30,” Mark explained.

“So early?”

“Yeah it’s… you could come with me if you want?”. His sleepy eyes twinge with hope.

You look to the lake, the sparkling ripples tinted gold with the rising sun. Sunday was usually a rest day for you and you didn’t have anything planned. As fatigued as you felt, everything in you wanted to accept his invitation. You cracked a small smile, getting up to stretch your legs. You hold out a hand to help him up.

“Lead the way”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home? This might not be fun for you…”

Mark’s expression was worried as the two of you stood at the entrance of the local church, the doors open and you could see rows of tables and food set up as if ready for people at any minute. The streets were starting to bustle as the world began to wake up. A volunteer from inside the church spotted you, walking out to give his greetings. 

“Mark!,” the man called out as he pulled Mark  in for a warm hug, “good morning!”.

His eyes turned towards you and Mark moved to introduce you. 

“Daniel, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Daniel. We volunteer together here at the church to serve breakfast to the homeless,” Mark disclosed.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel”. You shake his hand with a smile. Gosh, I probably look like a mess right now. I didn’t even get to change or take off the makeup from the party yesterday. You self-consciously zip up Mark’s oversized jacket to hide your exposed midriff. 

“Nice to meet you, y/n! This is the first time Mark has brought a… friend here”. Daniel’s eyes darted between you and Mark with an assuming smile.

“Yeah,” Mark coughed, turning to you, “do you want me to take you home? This probably isn’t what you expected I don’t know why I-”

“No,” you interrupted, “I’d like to stay and volunteer”. Offering him a reassuring smile, you rest your hand on his arm to show him that you were okay. There was truth to his worries when Mark said this wasn’t what you were expecting. You never would have thought that a popular guy like him woke up early on the weekends to help the needy. Evidently, he did it out of the kindness of his own heart, not for attention. You always imagined it was all parties and messing around, but you were pleasantly proven wrong.

“Great! Mark can show you around and get you started,” the older man clapped before heading inside.

“You’re kind of awesome, you know that?”. Mark’s question caught you off guard. He slipped his hand into yours to lead you into the building, the simple action sending your heart into a frenzy. 

“Awesome how?”

“Just… awesome,” Mark clarified cryptically, holding the door open for you to enter the storage room. He tosses you a green volunteer shirt.

“Alright, I’ll take the compliment,” you laugh, taking off his jacket and handing it to him. To your surprise, he pushes it back to you.

“You keep it. I like it a lot better on you”

Mark Lee if you keep saying things like this, I’m going to catch on fire.

You fight to put out the flames spreading across your cheeks and give a single nod, setting the sweatshirt down on a nearby box. Not willing to strip in front of him in the church storage room, you pull the volunteer shirt over on top of the shirt you were already wearing.

“So anyways,” Mark continued as if he didn’t just say the most romantic thing you’ve heard in your life, “the people will start coming in about 20 minutes. Our job is to portion out the food and once everyone is served, we can go eat and talk with them”.

“Got it”

“Here, let me get this for you”. His hand guided your waist to spin around as he pulled an apron over your head. Tying the back of the garment together, your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his fingers brush under the fabric of your shirt. You turn your face to the side and you can see his soft expression in your peripheral vision. The heat from his body behind yours feels so welcoming.

I wish he’d kiss me right now.

And he wants to. He tries to. He’s leaning in and everything is perfect. Your heart is beating fast as you tilt your head back, but like clockwork, a jolting buzz from his pants makes you jump apart. No, not like that.

“I swear to God, I’m throwing away my phone”. Mark ran a frustrated hand through his hair, picking up the kiss-blocking call. “Hello?”. You sighed.

You watch as the annoyed expression on his face fades into shock as the speaker on the other side panicked through the phone. Your own frustration transforms into concern as Mark looks at you and you catch the words “car” and “hospital”. Mark paces back and forth.

“Alright, I got it. Yeah, she’s with me. I’ll tell her. We’ll come right now. Don’t worry, Ten, she’s going to be fine”

“What is it?,” you ask as soon as he hangs up the call, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.

“It’s Yuna…,” Mark trailed off, shocked by the news. Your heart dropped down to your feet.

“What about Yuna?” Your voice shook with panic.

“She-she was in a car accident. She’s at the hospital right now”

previous || m.list || playlist || next

[worldsover]

Wintertide Inside ft. Gahyeon

length ✦ 4841

genres ✧ cockwarming; anal; gf!Gahyeon

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Maybe it’s obvious, but you’re thankful for Gahyeon’s ass. A simple contract—if you need a cocksleeve to wrap you or if your girlfriend needs a toy to fill her, neither of you would say no. You’re nominally in charge today but the outcome’s the same either way, with cum seeping from both ends of her tract and your cock sore in the best plight a man can have. 

Swift moans interject her snoring to surface you from your nap, probably because of flashes of biting air that creep in from some draft in the room. Her red crop-top is the only article of clothing on her scrumptious physique while you’re completely stark.  Don’t want to get up so you hold her somehow closer with no worry for your own frigidity. Gahyeon is tiny in your entwine. As you emanate heat from your torso to her back, she returns it tenfold between her legs. 

The incongruity of her pussy is that it’s both uncomfortable and comforting.  Stressfully tight and lovingly wet, while grueling clenches verge on coaxing yet another orgasm from you. Its quaver can be measured in millimeters when your cock etches its shape more permanent. Yesterday’s regrets and tomorrow’s worries become dust in your brain as it toils to memorize each of her inner folds.

Therefore more than the mouthwatering shape or size, you’re grateful for the cushion of her buttcheeks because it rivals your couch’s plushness and distracts you from your imminent peak, your third or fourth today. Losing track is easy when she keeps your cock incarcerated for so long. The threat of climax fades away and returns as quickly while single pulses reiterate how close to the edge you are. No lights on in your living room. Don’t need them. Nothing in your head other than Gahyeon anyway.

Rays spill through the thick curtains and a sliver barely misses her eyes to fall on yours instead. However, she rouses too from her sleep when a pillow between her legs slips to the floor. Nothing funny but you both giggle.

“How’s your nap, babe?” you say. 

She twitches at the warm air tickling her ears, and cold the rest of her skin, but you manage to keep most of your body stationary in Gahyeon’s embrace. Gahyeon yawns and stretches her arms, pushing back on the edge of the couch. “I think I had an amazing dream. Brr.”

“Dummy, you don’t dream until you hit R.E.M.” You point and she bends down to grab the thick blue blanket that fell on the floor. A small hum arises from you at the slight shift in angle. Look at the white clock above the TV and point again. “It’s only been like twenty.”

Gahyeon hands the blanket to you and you swathe it around your two bodies, calming both of your shivers. “Felt like forever. Pff, I was trying to be all romantic.”

“Why be romantic when-” Your words fall to breathy laments when the smoothest swing of her hips turn millimeters of movement to centimeters. The friction from only fractions of your length force a whimper out of her as it does a throb from you.

Gahyeon’s moans turn to more desperate whimpers in kind. Her hand aims below her crop-top and your shaft feels the curious kneading of her fingers below her belly button. Another throb. “Fuck. I still feel your cum inside. It’s almost too much.”

“Then why are you grinding so much? I’m barely running on empty.”

Your head is so fuzzy, you can’t tell how she manages to get on top of you while keeping your cock inside the entire time. For as savory as it is to look or smell or listen to her cute grunts, the only sensation that passes to your mind is her tightness twisting around your shaft. 

Gahyeon sits up and collects a bit of leakage with a finger, provocatively sucking it. “Nice try but I know the taste of your fresh load.”

“Fuck, you make my cock so sensitive. Such a good cumslut.” 

She gulps and bats her eyes so you pull her hair down, and your lips converge. Your core reignites when Gahyeon starts jolting her hips down hard on yours, and you note that her walls aren’t just clingy with your semen but that her pussy is lubricious with girl cum. It’s her turn to be the fucktoy but she’s stalwart in riding you. You’re in no condition to object. 

Gahyeon looks up at the clock and she slows down though not fully arresting her momentum. “Wait a sec, why didn’t you tell me the time?” she says after a thrust and a pant.

You shrug and she blows air out of her lips. Not a mind reader here.

Her pussy almost snaps shut when she gets off you. She steals the blanket while she’s at it. ”Right, should’ve told you to remind me. How am I supposed to focus on the performance later with this in me the whole time?” Gahyeon says, wiping the sticky load dripping from her other lips.

“Man, the blanket’s gonna be sticky now.”

“Sorry babe, I’ll try to do a better job keeping it inside me, okay?”

Stand up and grab some tissues for the fluids coating her groin before you clean yourself the same. You shiver at the air occasionally sweeping the room because you don exactly one less garment than Gahyeon, but it’s about making a statement. It’s your apartment dammit so you can be nude at any hour if you want to be. 

Widen the curtains and suffuse the room with natural white light. Look outside, your undraped stature proud and unsympathetic to the outside world to which you expose yourself. Sky and trees are near monochrome as the snow piles up on the grass which adds to the subtraction of color. 

“You’re so weird,” she says. Your dick flops as you turn around and flaunt your butt to mother nature itself, knowing its coldness towards you isn’t solely metaphorical in this season.

“This is our first winter together, my first new year in my own apartment. I have to be excited.” You raise your arms.

“Fair. You wouldn’t be here without me.” A signature curly smile and she joins your side to admire the snowy sight, letting you share in some—no, not all—of the warmness of the blanket.

“I mean if we were normal, I wouldn’t have left.” You hug Gahyeon and give her a smooch on her forehead. “But I needed my own place for my little cum-hungry, cum-greedy cockwarmer.”

Pink always spreads her cheeks at your brazen words. Her tummy presses on your softening cock and brings it back to life but she backs away. Gahyeon brings the back of each of her hands to her sides. “Right, speaking of which. Can I take one of my panties from your drawer?”

“You didn’t bring any? Hold on, that was supposed to be a secret!” you say.

“Yeah, obviously I know about them, stupid. You didn’t even notice when I packed a couple in there myself when you moved, did you?” 

She’s right, you didn’t, so shake your head. Gahyeon giggles then gives you the blanket again before she heads to your room. “I’ll be back soon, okay!” she yells while you fiddle with the thermostat. 

Grab some tortilla chips from the pantry then sit on the couch bundled in the blanket and turn to a channel that’s just playing a loop of a fireplace. At least the crackling sounds realistic with your speakers. 

In only a few minutes, she already has a full winter outfit on, a bright tomato that would stand out sorely in the snow. The apartment is already a lot mellower so you put the blanket away to wash later. Gahyeon is enticing no matter what she wears but you’re warm inside seeing your girlfriend wrapped up, though warmth also comes from the humiliation finally setting in from the contrast between her state of dress and yours.

“Did you hear me? I said I’ll be back soon.”

“Come on, the apartment isn't that big.” Get up to kiss her goodbye. ”Hurry back. There should be plenty of sun left and I wanna see the sun shine on your face with my cock in it.”

Open your laptop on your coffee table and promise to yourself that you’ll finish editing that teaser. It’s just a little distraction when you pore over videos you worked on recently, just reviewing your work to get ideas for how to cut. However, like a good and fully whipped man, one thing leads to another, one Dreamcatcher music video later—you’re proud of working on that one—and you’re back to the fancams of your girlfriend dancing. A similar, but less revealing crop-top, brief black shorts that strut the beautiful width of her thighs that you live between. Losing much weight, they’re still ample enough to stifle your cock on their own, without her amazing pussy’s help. Your erection should be exhausted but it returns at the sight of the jiggling. Two hands begin their work as Fly High plays.

A fluffy red jacket slams into your head. “You slob, put some clothes on!”

“What are you doing home?”

“Look at all the snow! What are you doing naked?”

“It’s my apartment, dang it! You know I’m naked all the time.” Didn’t mean to raise your tone there but she looks a touch distressed. You run up to her and give her a heavy drawn-out embrace.

“Babe,” she says, a little reluctant in the hug.

“I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.”

“No babe, it’s fine.”

“I was jerking it to you if it helps.”

“That doesn’t help, stupid. You’re gonna get this dress messy!” Gahyeon grabs your dick which leaks some precum. She bites her lip.

“Oh, sorry,” you say. You back off and retrieve the parka that fell on the floor and from all its pockets spill condoms like a deck of cards and a bad hand.

“Holy shit,” Gahyeon says. Whatever minute ire that remains burns away at her adorable laughter mixing with yours.

“Fuck, imagine if someone caught you with those.”

“Shit. Yoobin almost put her hand in my pocket for no reason.”

“Nah, she would’ve laughed just as hard.”

“You’re right.” Gahyeon bends down to pick the condoms up and you take your sweet time to help her. “We haven’t used these in so long,” she says.

“You wanna? Old time’s sake? Ha, fuck no.” Feeling bad for making her do all that work to appreciate her ass even in the baggiest pants possible, you spank her.  Wait, that’s not the solution. ”You should change first. I’ll clean up.”

There’s grey shorts and a plain white shirt in the dryer, so grab them. Gahyeon returns with her hair in twin buns, a short pink skirt and a white long sleeve half-shirt that manages to show off her cleavage from the top and the bottom.

“I hope that’s not a stage outfit.”

“Of course not. I just wanted to look more like a dumb slut for your dick.”

And with that, thoughts empty. As she crawls towards you, grab a wad of her hair. “So it’s like that today. Well shit, good job.”

“Thank you!” Only the corners of Gahyeon’s lips turn. “A good toy only has one purpose.” 

Fulfill that purpose and shove her head down to its rightful place. Gahyeon takes a single stroke into her throat, with nary a sound as she takes the entire length into her practice throat, but she pulls her lips back up to your cockhead. “You’ll be good there?” you say.

“Mhm,” she says with her usual mouthful.

You get a bit of video cutting done for an hour or so with her lips on your cock head, occasionally patting her head. Occasional moans slip out but you keep focused and erect at the same time. At some point during your work, you offer her one of your earphones to listen to your synthwave music. Despite maintaining an enthusiastic hold on your tip, Gahyeon looks a little tired from kneeling so long.

“Aww, baby, do your knees hurt?”

“Mm, I’m fine,” she mumbles while keeping her lips on your tip.

“Why are you pouting a little then?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, come here.”

Stoop to give her a passionate, drawn-out kiss, though it always turns out the same. You realize how long you could do nothing but make out with your girlfriend. You love the way Gahyeon competes with you, where your tongues battle and you each threaten to suck the air out of each other’s lungs. It’s impossible to keep your heart’s pace steady and you’d be remiss for your hands not to dig into every inch of her skin as she wanders the same on you.

Of course, there’s only one place those hands could lead to. Smack. You swear her ass ripples. “Now get back to sucking slut.”

You wipe the drool off your face but you interrupt her doing the same; she looks good messy. Gaheyon lays on the couch with her head on your lap. You can’t see her face but if she needs to get a better angle to watch Knowing Bros, then so be it. Her lips fasten your cock just the same. She sticks her ass up and a reflective circle seals her asshole.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Friend got it for Christmas, secret Santa.”

“Bora?”

“Mhmmmm-” Gahyeon draws out the vibration of the last consonant on your cock. 

A couple of hours later, you finish your work and send emails.  Once in a while you stroke her hair but she gives more suction in response, sending you ever closer to release. How greedy of her, she’s certainly swallowed enough cum just from premature singular pulses but Gahyeon doesn’t stop when you lay down the law and slap her ass.

“Whose turn is it. huh?”

Every hit of her ass emboldens her sucking, as she goes deeper.

“So you wanna be a brat? I said, whose turn is it!”

She gags for the first time in a while, spewing much spit, when you pull slowly but abruptly on the shiny buttplug after slapping her ass a final time. Lube spills out.

Gahyeon breathes heavy breaths on your cock. “Fuck. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Woah. Now that’s new.” 

“I guess it just came out naturally. Sir.” She licks up the froth on your cock.

“I don’t mind if you say it.” You circle her asshole with your finger and taste the lube. Sugary but you can’t think of the flavor. Not that you can think of much of anything.

“Only if you call me ma’am when it’s my turn.”

“Deal.”

“Thank you sir.”

She keeps your cock snug in her mouth. Browse your phone and decide to get some Jjamppong delivered, perfect for the cold.

“Gahyeon? Babe?”

Was she really? Incredible. She manages to doze off with a cock filling her mouth. That’s new. For all the times you’ve fallen asleep during tantric sex, it’s always been inside her pussy or asshole. How she incessantly drools while her head wriggles nearly makes you unload on her unconscious tongue but you hold it in, allowing only a few spurts to leak.

Unfortunately, you have to wake her up when you get the order from the door. You have to get some final work done but she eats dinner, sitting your dick. Your laptop is on her lap while you rest your chin on her neck. Tickled, Gahyeon giggles in between slurps of noodles. The lack of movement agonizes both of you but it keeps you focused. You could spend all day fucking each other; in fact, you have.

The winter sunset lights your room the colors of candy like artificial strawberry and sweet tangerines, though snow still storms down to desaturate the world. You’ve had enough productivity for one day. Gahyeon shares the soup with you, but after she sets the bowl down, she twists her hips in a quick motion and you explode without warning. Five or six? It’s only a curt removal of your soul from existence but you puff and pant anyway.

“Fuck, I’m sorry sir. I should’ve warned you.”

“It’s fine.”

“But I can’t let this cum go to waste, can I?” At some point during your orgasm, she withdrew herself and now she’s licking up and down your soft shaft to clean any cum that you didn’t shoot inside. “Damn, I just wanted to get my vibrator.”

“It’s okay Gahyeon, get it. I. I definitely need some time to recover.”

“I guess even you have your limits.” She grins, then leaves for the bedroom.

Gahyeon returns and a loop of a pink wire sticks out from her pussy. Now the only thing she wears is that thin strip of a top. Take off your shirt to match. “The egg this time?” you say.

She nods. “Here’s the remote.”

Get your Switch and play some Smash while she washes some dishes and organizes clothes that she’s brought over. Apparently you mix your clothes with hers often, which shouldn’t be such an issue considering how different your sizes are. Every time you lose a game, you turn on the vibrator for a few moments. You get a kick out of watching her buckle. If only you could do this while she performs live.

“You wanna head to the bedroom? It’s getting dark, uff.” A quick press of the highest setting and Gahyeon’s knees knock together. It never takes too long for you to get hard again when you see her put all effort into standing. “You- Ahhh, fuck, I love you. I hate you.”

Maybe it’s because you have yet to turn the intensity down. With a full hand on her ass and the other on her back, carry her to the bedroom but her wriggling hobbles you. An early left turn.

“I already showered earlier. Sir, please I’m getting so sensitive.” Gahyeon rotates through many different faces, from agony to excitement to pleasure. 

Set her down in the hot tub and her crop-top lands in the laundry basket perfectly.

“Nice throw.” Gahyeon high-fives you. She almost distracted you with that great throw. “Tsk. You’re still keeping that vibrator in you. Just what you deserve for making me cum when I didn’t even finish eating.”

Your apartment is relatively small for its price, but there were certainly no expenses spared for the bathroom. Both your shower and your jacuzzi could fit three people. It has the biggest panes of glass and provides no privacy but you love the ambiance especially during a night shower. Gahyeon’s moaning goes from having a quick rhythm to intense, long held notes. She’s playing with herself in any way that she can to make her climax, manically stroking her clit while she teases pulling the metallic plug in her ass. Turn off the lights and cocoa candles fill the scent of the room. Finally, remove her vibrator and buttplug.

“So fucking yummy. Come here,” you say, holding her neck carefully as you get in the tub to crash your lips into hers. After what feels like hours of kissing even if it is only a few minutes, you lay down in the hot-tub and Gahyeon straddles your thighs. 

“So which is going to be?” She glances next to the sink. ”Guess the lube isn’t for my pussy. Wait, why’d you turn on the water? It’s gonna wash away the lube. Woah, isn’t it my turn-” 

When you pull her groin up to your face, extra force on her clit shuts her up and nearly instantly drives her to orgasm. Gahyeon always grabs your hair and locks her legs together when you make her cum with your tongue but especially after all the stimulation of the vibrator, you have difficulty breathing. It’s worth it. She whimpers as your lips work relentlessly on her pussy but you settle down after a while. Hot jets of water blast on your back along with her legs. Gahyeon continues riding your face while she talks about her performance. Apparently the snow had a lot of the production people hold up. She brings a dewfall and you could taste her syrup forever but your cock aches once again. Maybe it’s asking you to chill out and that it needs a break, but if that were true, it wouldn’t be as hard as ever. 

“I’ve had enough of your pussy today,” you say.

“Really sir? Didn’t know that was possible.” Gahyeon needs no directions, your tongue licking up her body as your hands pull her last garment away.

“Siri, play relaxing radio. I’m staying in your ass until I cum.”

The middle of an R&B chorus plays. You get up to take the lube and Gahyeon drains the tub until only a little water remains. Her fingers wander and she vigorously rubs her clit while a curious thumb circles her asshole. Take a glob of the vanilla flavored lube and spread it on your fingers. Gahyeon sucks on your index, which goes straight to her asshole. Its wetness helps the tight ring expand slowly around it and the familiar pucker on your finger excites you. Get underneath her so that she’s laying on top of you while you sit back against the tub.

“God. I’m never getting used to how big you are.”

There it is. The tip of your cock vanishes into her tight asshole and you try to hold in a high whine, though Gahyeon lets out plenty of squeals as lube makes the entrance slick, squishy noises. Let her ass sink in with only her weight and it wraps down your shaft inch by throbbing inch. At last. She’s all the way down. If only you could see her face, but the position is comfortable and you get the pleasure of sucking on her neck while playing with her tits from behind.

The glow from the moon finds an angle into your room, mixing candle flame yellows with its white. Fierce winds push the falling snow outside of your window sideways. You’re warm nonetheless.

Midnight, the radio says as a new host talks about the inclement weather, but it’s not enough to keep you from kissing up and down Gahyeon’s back. Play with her nipples and the miniscule action not only gets them hard, but makes her ass’s folds react and roll to the pleasure. The breeze blows, a more important sound manages to distract you.

“Sir, do you hear that?” Gahyeon says.

“Yeah!” You hum along to the melody of Jazz Bar. “Hey, that’s you singing.”

“It’s not even one of our title tracks. I have to tell the members.” 

Gahyeon almost gets up from her but her head turns and shakes, realizing your thickness twitching as she almost fully unsheathes her ass. “Fuck.”

“Hold on. What’d I tell you?”

“Oh shit. Sorry. Sir. I can tell them later.”

“You know what. Just for that.” Pick her up, holding her thighs carefully to keep your cock in her asshole. The position is awkward, but you manage to lay her down prone without withdrawing your erection. 

“God, I love the way your cock hits.” All agreements and contracts are lost when you look at how the fat and muscle collects in Gahyeon’s full ass. A single thrust in and you can see the weight of the smack of your groin on her cheeks, so you endeavor to learn more about physics, even during the snow day. Slam into her and as you go in and out, Gahyeon yells and swears louder and louder, threatening to let all the neighbors know. No, of course they already know. It makes your eye contact with them hilariously awkward and it makes Gahyeon’s mask and disguise even more necessary.

“What a bad girl,” you say with a powerful shove.  ”Can’t even be a good cockwarmer, god.” Plunge and dive, your cock tries its best to widen her asshole but no matter what, it strangles your shaft taut. “Your butthole is just too. Fucking. Tempting.”

“Yes! Yes! Sir please, I’m going to- I’m just about to. Fuck. Shit I was so close.”

Chuckle at seeing her distraught face. “I’m getting some beer. Also, I want to finish in the bedroom. More comfy.”

She takes a minute to find her breathing but she gets up and grabs the lube. “Don’t have work tomorrow?” Gahyeon says.

“Lemme check.” When you both get to the bedroom, you check your phone. Nothing til noon. Perfect. Grab some beer in the minifridge in the corner of the room, while Gahyeon fixes her hair and lays down on the bed. She pats the mattress with both hands next to her. Missionary, it is then.

A hand to her chin. “Wait a second, didn’t you say you weren’t leaving my ass until you came. Hmm,” Gahyeon says. She gives a quick smooch and smiles naughtily. You could stare at her lips upturning all day. It’s her signature weapon.

Take a sip of the bottle of Cass. “What are you gonna do about it?” She digs her nails into your back to pull you and your cock finds the purchase of her asshole anew. In between thrusting motions, you take bigger swigs of the beer and offer some to her. She spills a bit on her tits and you lick it up. Suck on her tits as she pounds her ass into your erection. 

“Stretch me out, fuck me harder. Harder, sir!”

“God, mmmm, ugh., ugh.” Can’t speak much anymore.  Both of you love dirty talk, Gahyeon especially knows how to whisper to tickle your ear but she also knows how to scream to get your instinctive side out. You hold her neck as you hold the bottle, careful and secure. Her tightly drawn anus responds the same as her pussy when you choke her, as they each try frenetically to wring you dry. However, the friction of her ass, even with all the lube, arouses your cock harder somehow. This is the life you chose, in a way the most tiring work you could ever imagine.

Gahyeon grabs tighter and her whole body ripples at the force that you both put in. Not a single qualm about your lifestyle. Any pretense of space between you two is gone as every inch of your skin slaps against each other. A final gulp from the bottle.

“Right there, right there, yes sir, baby. Cum with me!”

There isn’t much of you left but it’s still a flash freeze, a blizzard and pouring hail slamming into you when you cum, and she shakes doubly so in her orgasm as she’s had double yours today. The throb of your shaft doesn’t match the squeezing rhythm of her sphincter and inner walls which makes your cock spurt with more intensity than you could think possible, even bearing your stamina. Your sticky semen replaces the slippery lube inside her ass but you didn’t need its stickiness to slow your rhythm as your dick gets softer. You let minutes pass anyway to feel her muscles react to the load sloshing around and so that it’s not as difficult to extricate your softness from her greedy butthole, though it takes a slow removal anyway with its tightness. Both of you limp over and Gahyeon is fast asleep, but you scramble to return the buttplug and keep the cum inside.

“Keep warm! It’s going to be like this all winter. Tomorrow, it’ll be a high of -5 and a low of -20 and that snow will keep piling up-” Turn down the volume so that it’s not muted but soft enough that you can hear the wind howl past your windows just as loud. Nothing amazes you more than the tiny idol asleep and cutely snoring while her pussy throttles your shaft. Looking at Gahyeon’s ass and feeling her shake it as you try to fall asleep, something tells you it’ll be the warmest winter you’ll ever have.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Something quick with my favorite kink for my second favorite in Dreamcatcher. Also got a draft for my ultimate bias but that’ll take time as well. Woops, yet another thing to procrastinate on while I shirk on both real life and writing.

[mosswillow]

Try again, and again, and again - Maybe you’ll be free this time.

Dark!Charles Xavior x Reader (fem), Dark!Erik (Magneto) x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Adult content, Rape/noncon/dubcon, oral (male recieving), manipulation, abuse, mind control, posessive behavior, glove kink, blood, violence.  

Word count: 2222

A/N: Eek, I finally finished this. I hope ya’ll enjoy it. This is different from my original plan of multiple parts. I like how this came out though, it feels right with the vibe of part one. Hopefully it’s the right amount of confusing to make it fun and interesting but not stressful.

By clicking keep reading you confirm that you are an adult over the age of 18 and understand that this content is dark and potentially triggering.

You’ve done this too many times, stood at this window remembering it all. It’s exhausting; you’re so tired, so worn down. It’s a lie, all of it. You never married him. He forced you into this, erased your memories and added his own. He stripped you of your agency, moulded you into what he wants. A happy wife, someone to control - to submit.  

“Are you ready to stop this now?” Charles hisses from behind you.

A tear runs down your cheek and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. You step back from the window and slowly force your body across the room to your “husband”. ��

“Good girl,” he praises, pulling you down and kissing away your tears.

You close your eyes and let him kiss you. His tongue pushes in your mouth and you open for him, tasting the slight saltiness of your tears on his tongue.

“Let’s go back to bed,” he smiles.

You lie next to him and turn your body away, stiffening as he puts his arm over you protectively. Your life has always been like this since you were born, it was stupid to think you could ever find happiness in this fucked up world. You feel his hand snake down your body and take a deep breath before opening your legs for him.

He was the first mutant you ever met, found you scared and starving in an alleyway and gave you food - love - family. He made you feel like you weren't alone for the first time in your life. For so long everyone around you made you feel like your power was bad but he didn’t think that. He thought that your power made you better than everyone else. He taught you to embrace it, to carry your mutation with pride. He told you to never take abuse, to throw everything they did to you right back at them.

Comical, really, how the one who brought you to a place of acceptance, who taught you not to take abuse, turned around and abused you. He had taught you well, too well. As soon as the first bruise showed up you chose to leave. You deserved better.

“What do you think you’re doing,” He said as you packed a bag. You should have left while he was gone but it was too late now.

“I just need space Erik, some time to think about what I want.”

“No,” his voice was quiet but serious, the tone more alarming than any of the times he had yelled. it made you stop packing and look at him. He took a small step forward and you noticed the disheveled appearance. His leather costume was torn in several places and sweat was beading on his forehead.

“This is what I’m talking about, I need to be able to have my own life. You dictate everything and won’t even tell me where you go. You… you hurt me,” you grabbed your arm gingerly, looking at it and frowning.  

The familiar sound of metal being manipulated came from Erik and you looked up just in time to see pieces of silver fly towards you. Your wrists were suddenly encased and you tried in vain to move against them.

“Let me go,” you said.

“No,” he replied almost too calmly.

“I’m leaving you Erik, you can’t do this,”

He walked to you and ran a gloved hand over your cheek.

“I can do anything I want, baby.”

Your wrists suddenly slammed into the floor and he was grabbing your head, tilting it back so that you looked up at him. He brought his other hand to your cheek, smoothing his thumb over your lips. “Anything,” he said as he pushed his thumb in your mouth. The earthy smell and taste of his glove overwhelmed your senses and you struggled against him. It was no use though. He was stronger than you would ever be. You relaxed your jaw and closed your eyes and he removed his hand, replacing it with his dick. He grunted as he pushed into your mouth, slowly pushing further into your throat with every thrust. When his cum finally filled your throat you swallowed and kept your eyes down. He crouched in front of you and kissed your cheek before leaving to shower. He left you there all night and by the time you were finally released from your chains you were too exhausted to fight. He carried you to the bed and fucked you gently and you let him.

You spent months alone in the prison he created for you. He said you would be let out once he was confident you wouldn’t try to run or use powers but you weren’t sure that would ever happen. Even when you followed all his rules, when you acted like you loved him. He would still find reasons to keep you isolated. Your life revolved around him, a cycle of trying to please him, eventually acting out and the inevitable punishment that came with your rebelion. It wasn’t a way to live.

“You’re thinking about him.” Charles' voice has an edge to it, one you’re familiar with.

You nod and turn your face away.

“You’re not there anymore sweetheart, I’ll take care of you.”

Charles grabs your chin and forces your head towards him. He kisses you softly on the cheek and pulls you towards him until you’re settled against his warm body.

He’s the same though, it’s the exact same suffocating love you ran from almost two years ago.

It took five years of trying to finally do it. Erik made a mistake, He left the back door open and you took your chance without hesitation. The first barefooted step onto the dirt was euphoric. Being kept away from the earth was like torture. Silent tears fell as you dug your hand into the ground and felt it move. It sucked away the fear, leaving you with a sense of peace. You had power again, could feel it like electricity move through your body.

Sounds of fighting came from nearby and you hid.

You could feel where people walked. The earth was talking to you, telling you when and where to hide. You made your way to a helicopter and crouched in the back, making yourself as small as you could and praying that whoever was attacking would get away and take you with them.

You held your breath as a group of mutants piled in quickly and the helicopter lifted from the ground. You stayed hidden for an hour before someone noticed you. A woman, red hair and drenched in sweat looked at you.  

“Who are you?” she asked. her bright green eyes widening in shock.

“I’m not like him,” Charles says “You’re happy here,” The anger in his voice becomes more evident by the second.

“Stay out of my head!” you yell.

A headache starts burrowing into your brain and you cry out in pain.

“I’m not like him,” he reiterates.

You struggle in his arms, turning to your back and looking at him from inches away.

“You’re even worse. He always knew he was a monster, he wanted liberation at any cost, me at any cost. He was…” you search for the words to explain “a poisoned cup of water.”

You grit your teeth and stare in his eyes, bringing your face so that your noses almost touch. You don’t care, there’s nothing he can do to you that hasn’t already been done, no way he can hurt you more than he already has.

“You pretend like you’re a hero but you’re not. You're a glass of juice laced with the same exact pison as him. You look good and taste good but you’ll kill me the same way.”

He uses his power against you, reminding you who he is and what he can do. You scream as your body bursts into invisible flames. With Erik the bruises would remind you that it was real.  Charles doesn’t even afford you that. Everything with him is invisible, all in your head. They’re not the same, Charles is worse.

“Is she ok?”

“She’s fine Jean, give her some space.”

You groaned as you returned to consciousness.

“She’s waking up!”

You jolted up, turning your head to stare at your surroundings. The last memory you had was crouching in the helicopter, now you were laying on a couch surrounded by mutants.

“I’m Jean,” a soft voice said.

“I’m sorry I… there were no other ways out,” you whispered.

“We know,” You looked over to see Charles pushing himself towards you. He stopped and looked you in the eyes.

“We’ll take care of you,” He smiled.

You smiled back, feeling safe and free for the first time in a long time. The X-Men, you had found a true family at last. Everything was going to be ok.

You’re expecting him to knock you out again, for you to fall asleep and wake up his loving wife but The pain stops suddenly and you whip your head towards him in surprise.

“You didn’t take my memories?” you ask.

“I’m not like him,” Charles insists.

You sit up and pull your knees to your chest.

“Show me you aren't, let me go.”

He looks up at the ceiling and inhales.

“I can’t.”

It started so slow with Charles. He gave you personal lessons, treated you kindly. You started to actually fall for him.

But then a new mutant came in and the chemistry was like nothing you had ever felt.

Charles got jealous almost immediately. You slowly started to see him the same way you saw Erik, recognizing the signs, there were so many red flags. You weren’t going to stick around, you had to leave while it was still an option.

You packed a bag and ran without a word, finding a job far away.

You should have known better. It was your hope that he would just let you go but of course he didn’t. Charles found you easily, and he was angry. You had never seen so much rage, it was like you were looking into Eriks eyes. You begged him not to do it, cried for help.

They stood there complacent as he forced you to your knees and rewrote your history, wiping your brain for the first time. They said they were your family, you loved them, and they betrayed you.

“It would be easier if you just accepted this, I don’t like using my powers against you.” he says.

You roll your eyes. He does like using them, you see it behind his eyes every time he does it. He loves the power. You look at his face and see a slight twitch in his eye. The wheels start turning in your head, a theory forms.

“You’re losing your ability to control me,” you say.

He sets his jaw and you know you’re right. Your lips lift into a small smile as hope starts to bloom.

“What will you do once you can’t just erase memories?” you ask.

A headache starts again and you stare at him, fighting back. You’ve never fought back before like this, didn’t know you could.

“I’m going to leave you,” you say before the world goes black.

Jean was the one who made the memories return for the first time. She unlocked them for you, cried and apologized as you sat there panicking.

Nobody said no to Charles. he wanted you and they were too afraid of him to stop it, she told you. The team was happier, Charles was happier. They sacrificed you, pushed the abuse onto you so that it wasn’t on them anymore.

It was all a show.

Your husband of three years had only kidnapped you a week prior. It was stressful and confusing, you ran to the bathroom and vomited. Charles called your name from the kitchen and you bolted out of the house. You made it halfway through the yard before you were tackled and held with your hands above your head. The only thing you could reach was a little bow from your hair. You took it and jammed it into the ground, letting the earth take it and hoping that one day it could somehow help you. You had to fight, keep trying no matter what.

“Good morning my love,” Charles says.

“Good morning,” you smile back.

You give him a kiss on the cheek and stretch out before walking to the kitchen. You look out the window and your memories come back in a sudden burst.

You turn around to see him in the doorway. Fear washes over his face as he realizes how fast you escaped this time.

You smile and raise your middle finger at him. The window shatters into small pieces as your fist breaks through. Blood drips down your hand but you don’t care. You’re free.

“I’ll find you,” he calls.

Maybe he will. Maybe he’ll find you and bring you back, keep you locked up. Maybe he’ll add chains to your hands and feet like Erik did. He won’t chain your mind though, never again will he control you like that. He can try again, and again, and again but you’ll always break free.

[xxkellsvixen19xx]

Spotlight: A Life Of A Troubled Celebrity Heartthrob Ch 9

Spotlight: A Life Of A Troubled Celebrity Heartthrob Chapter 9

Word Count: 3,432

We're going to skip the formalities Ashleigh," Colson strolled into the study and pushed Ashleigh's chair back, "Why did you you do it??"

"Colson I-" Ashleigh looked at him, frightened, "Slim said if I didn't do it then-it would have been me instead," she hung her head in shame.

"Hmm.." Colson held his chin and pretended to be in deep thought, "so you gave up Y/N instead..makes sense I guess," he shrugged.

"What?!" her head snapped up.

"Slim is a crackhead and is blazed half the time..what's your excuse for taking part in this Ashleigh," his eyes were fire and ice all at once.

"He threatened me-" she cried out.

"But you made conscious decision to help him f*ck my wife didn't you?!" Colson shot back, "you even spiked her drink with a double dose of the drug!" He shouted, "why did you do that? Huh?!"

"I was scared!" she said as the tears pooled her eyes,

"Ahhh..I see.." Colson stood up, " are you scared Ash?" Colson got up stared directly into her eyes.

"Y-e-ss.." she gulped and looked at the bodyguards that towered behind Colson.

"Good," Colson said with satisfaction, "it's good that you're afraid," he paced around her chair, "At least I've got the decency to plan this thing in front of you; and not behind your back like what you did to someone that considered you a friend," he stopped in front of her, "Now I'm going to get one of these guys to lock you in a tiny bathroom and have his way with you? How about that? Sound familiar?"

"Don't! Please! I'll do anything!" she fell at Colson's feet and grovelled.

"Guys can I have a volunteer to take this lovely lady into the restroom and do what ever you feel like with her? Actually I want you to go as far as Slim did with my wife..or further maybe? Rog? Andre? You're game?" Colson asked.

"Let me at her Col. I think I will do a good job than Rog over here," Andre motioned with his head.

"No, no, no. Please allow me Col? I will do a better job than Slim," Rog said smugly.

"Okay Rog you're our guy!" Colson patted Rog on the back, "don't worry Ashleigh I'll just turn a blind eye like you did and I hope, for your sake, there's someone that cares enough to come and knock the door down-like I did," Colson stepped away from her, "Hey don't forget to rough her up and spike her drink before-just like Slim did to my wife."

"Waaiiitt! Don't leave me! I'm sorry! Please! Slim made me do it-he-he threatened me," Ashleigh wailed.

"Why didn't you come to me?! You had a choice and you did the wrong thing Ashleigh! That makes you as bad as Slim!" Colson yelled at her, his blue eyes blazing. "By the way-enjoy your stay in prison," he informed her before he left the room.

"Take her away Rog and don't come out until she passes out just like Y/N," Jax looked down at her with disgust.

"Jax! Please don't do this!" she pleaded but Jax was having none of it.

"You saw it fit to do it to Y/N so why should I feel sorry for you? Take her away," Jax said.

"Noooo! Please!" Ashleigh screamed as Rog threw her over his shoulder; to carry out orders.

"How far do you want to take this Colson?" Jax asked as they walked to the car.

"As far as Slim took liberties on my wife," Colson replied tersely, "I want her to experience everything that Y/N went through. She should have a play by play version and we'll see how she feels being in the same shoes."

"So they're not going to actually...?" Jax raised his eyebrow.

"No! I gave them strict instructions not to take it that far," he reiterated.

"Okay," Jax opened the door for Colson and he jumped in.

"Please take me to the hospital? I need to check on Y/N before I lose my mind," Colson sighed heavily, "the doctor has assured me that he didn't..get very far."

"What a relief!" Jax sagged on the driver's seat.

"If he had-I was going to kill him with my bare hands," Colson clenched his fist.

"Not if I got to him first-with a bullet straight through his head," Jax said with conviction.

"I think we need to leave this place. Just me and Y/N," Colson said, "please make the arrangements?"

"Where are we going to this time?" Jax questioned, knowing he was part of the plan.

"Jamaica," Colson replied.

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

"Good morning baby," Colson sat on the hospital bed and held Y/N's hand. Her eyes fluttered open and she groaned.

"You told him," she snatched her hand out of his grasp and turned aside.

"What?!" Colson asked, confused.

"I told you something in confidence," she cleared her throat, "and you told Slim so he could use it against me," she sniffled.

"Sweets.." Colson jumped onto the bed and lay in front of her, "look at me? Please?" he held her face tenderly.

"I honestly have no idea what you're going on about" his blonde hair flopped over his eyes and he tossed it back, "can you at least fill in the blanks so that we can be on the same page?" he stared at her intently.

"He knew," she whispered, "he knew about Bobby," she dropped her gaze.

"Who's Bobby baby?" Colson asked gently.

"My ex," she gulped as she twisted her hands nervously.

"I didn't tell him anything about it sweets. I swear. Maybe he overheard me talking to Jax the other day..I wanted him to help find him so you wouldn't have to worry about him coming back-I didn't want it hanging over your head," Colson explained "plus you never really told me his name.."

"Oh," her eyes focused on chest.

"You like my t-shirt?" Colson joked.

"I've always found plain white t-shirts fascinating," she rolled her eyes.

"This isn't just any white t-shirt babe-it's an original Levi," Colson held out the hem of the t-shirt and grinned.

"I'm sorry for spoiling your night," Y/N apologized.

"Hey..don't do that," Colson held her chin up and gazed into her e/c orbs, "I should be the one apologizing actually. I was supposed to protect you but-"

"Can we not talk about this?" she frowned and looked away.

"Sure," there was an awkward silence. "I'll go and check with the doctor if he's done with your discharge papers," Colson hopped of the bed and left the room.

Y/N looked up the ceiling and sighed heavily. How did she end up in this situation for a second time? If Colson hadn't kicked down the door when he did then-she didn't even want to think about it. She would rather keep it buried in her emotional archives.

"Good morning!" Jax stood at the door with his hands in his pockets, "is there room for one more?" he smiled.

"Jax!" Y/N gave him a genuine smile, "come in!" Jax got to her in two strides and engulfed her in a bear hug.

"You okay kid?" he leaned back and examined her.

"Yeah," she grinned.

"Good. The doctor has given you the green light, you can go home" he nodded with satisfaction, "did your husband tell you that we're going on honeymoon?"

"No Jax," Colson cut in, "but you might as well tell her."

"Tell me what?" Y/N asked.

"We're going to the Caribbean baby," Jax smiled.

"What?! Really babe??" Y/N gushed and Colson nodded with a smile.

"Let's get out of here I need to pack."

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

It was a beautiful day; the birds were singing, the sun was shining and all was alright in the world. For now at least.

Colson woke up early and went to take his usual swim. The beach was deserted as he walked towards the water, in his shorts and his towel slung over his shoulder. He loved to take an early morning swim as part of his workout routine because it helped him to think; and he had a lot of thinking to do this morning.

At the end of this week they were going back to reality and he wasn't sure if he was ready for that. The press that constantly stalked him and pried into his private life unashamedly, his fake friends, the pressure of staying at the top and last but not least his dear mother in law. Mrs Y/M/F/N L/N had called him, breathing fire and threatening to castrate him as soon as his jet touched the ground of Cleveland. He would definitely chose dealing with the press over that any day.

While he understood that she had genuine concerns, Y/N was a grown woman and the only thing that mattered to him. The way he felt about her frightened him. After Dani he had promised to never fall in love again. Love was complicated, it was too intense and it made you vulnerable; but worst of all you could risk getting your heart broken. He had loved Dani more than was humanely possible-he could have done anything for her and he did, but after she slept with his best friend she did irreparable damage to his heart. He couldn't risk it again-and yet he found himself totally consumed by Y/N Y/L/N.

Her eyes captivated him and sent his heart spiraling to the ends of the unknown. When she laughed or smiled at him he felt like he could take on the world. Making love to her was an indescribable feeling..he couldn't put it into words even if he tried. She was always on his mind and he just wanted to be with her all the time. He was selfish when it came to her-he didn't want anyone else around when they were together; he wanted all her attention; all of her.

Colson swam back to the shore, his body was exhausted. He bent over and held onto his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"Smile," Y/N said and as he looked up startled she took a pic with her iPhone.

"Hey sweets," his face broke into a smile and his heart skipped a beat.

"I could wake up to this every morning..some girls have all the luck," she sighed and took a few more pics of Colson in his swimming trunks, water dripping from his gorgeous body.

"You know what Bambi..I think you need to be in the pic as well-"Colson lunged at her and grabbed her, making her wet. She was dressed in a short floral caftan dress which did nothing to protect her.

"Baker!" she squealed, "you're making me wet!"

"Just what I love to hear sweets," he crushed her against his solid chest and their lips merged, melting into each other. He wove his fingers into her silky soft hair and she in turn slid her fingers into his wet hair.

Jax stood behind them clearing his throat and got their attention.

"Just on time Jax-please take a video and post it on Instagram asap okay?" Colson handed the phone to him.

"A video??," Y/N asked. Before she got a response Colson swooped her off her feet and threw over his shoulder. He ran back into the water amidst Y/N's screams and protests.

She landed in the water with a splash and Colson laughed at her as she spluttered in the water.

"Baker you are dead!!" she jumped onto his back and they both keeled over back into the water. Y/N tried to escape but he caught her foot and dragged her back in. They continued a full out make out session and would have taken it further if Jax hadn't reminded them that they were in a public area.

"That's enough you two!" Jax yelled, "breakfast is served, let's go."

"Let's get changed first. Come one," Colson put his arm around her shoulder as they walked back to the villa. They had a quick shower and dressed up before going for breakfast.

"Can't we go out somewhere for breakfast?" Y/N suggested, "We're in the Caribbean so we might as well take advantage of it."

"As mi 'lady wishes," Colson bowed.

"Baker!" Y/N swatted his arm.

"But I went all out and made breakfast for you two?" Jax grumbled.

"Sorry Jax. Guess we will have to stay and eat," Y/N said.

"Killjoy," Colson muttered under his breath.

"Don't worry babe, we can explore after breakfast," Y/N squeezed his arm.

"Ooh, I like the sound of that.." Colson murmured and leaned in to kiss her.

"Can we eat now?" Jax complained.

"I would rather eat what I'm looking at right now.." Colson continued to suck on Y/N's lips and she giggled.

"Gosh! I think I'm going to throw up," Jax rolled his eyes, "I'm going to eat at my villa. I'll leave you kids to it." He threw his napkin on the table and stood up.

"Hey Jax," Colson said, "You're officially off duty. We'll call you when we need you."

"Thank you!" Jax said with a sigh of relief, "at least I won't have to witness you two sucking face any longer."

"Makes two of us," Colson replied. They laughed as they watched him leave.

"You're not a nice person Baker," Y/N said as she nibbled on a piece of bacon.

"I know but I'm still yours," he tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Are you really?" she asked with uncertainty.

"Sweets-let's not do this? Please?" he raked his hair.

"So nothing has changed," she nodded and her gaze as she twisted her fingers nervously.

"I'm going for a walk!" Colson pushed back his chair and it screeched as he stood up.

"Fine!" Y/N shouted at his retreating back.

Y/N thought that things had changed. That somehow his feelings had changed and he was finally ready to admit that he loved her, that this was more than a casual fling, that they had passed the stage of testing the waters. She had hoped they had established their relationship on a solid foundation but his outburst had proved that they were still on ground zero.

Two steps forward. Two steps back.

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

Y/N spent the day watching Netflix in the guest room at the villa. She had ordered room service because she didn't feel like cooking. She didn't feel like doing anything but wallowing in self-pity. Colson hadn't shown up for lunch or dinner and Y/N went into further depression. There was a fully stocked bar so she decided to take full advantage of it and drowned her sorrows.

She heard loud music coming from outside so she got dressed in her best outfit and headed out. There was no way she was going to sit at home while Colson was probably out there having a good time. She stumbled into a local club that seemed to be happening tonight and made a beeline to the bar.

"Can I have a cosmo?" she asked the barman and he nodded. She sipped on it slowly and watched the revelers grinding on each other; having a good time.

"Care to dance?" Colson came from behind and whispered in her ear.

"Get lost Baker," she retorted without swinging around.

"Look sweets, I'm sorry for walking out on you," he turned her around and he took her hands, "I shouldn't have done that-please forgive me?" he pouted.

"We can't make progress if that's what you going to do every time we have a fight," she said, "where have you been all day anyway?"

"I went scuba diving and surfing with Jax," he replied. "Can we just be Colson and Y/N tonight? For the rest of the week maybe?" he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, "No fighting, no arguing-no nothing-good vibes only. Just me and you enjoying each other's company? Can we do that baby?" he implored.

"Okay Baker. I'm sold," Y/N rolled her eyes and picked up her drink.

"I know we need to do grown up talk soon but can it be when we get back home?" he asked, "for now I just want to enjoy my honeymoon with my beautiful and sexy wife," he took her drink and gulped half of it down.

"Hey! Get your own," she slapped his arm. He ordered another round for them and then a couple of more. She was feeling light headed and her face was tingling. The alcohol had clearly kicked in and she could feel it.

"Let's go dance!" Colson pulled her to the dance floor.

"I don't even know how to dance to this music!" she shouted into his ear. She looked around her and all she could see was people gyrating on each other. If they didn't have any clothes on it would have been x-rated.

"There's nothing to it sweets. Just follow my lead," Colson started grinding against her and she followed suit.

They got lost in the moment as their bodies intertwined as they moved to the rhythm of the music. He turned her around and fitted her back into the contour of his body, his hands slowly gliding down her thighs. She weaved her hands in his hair and pressed her backside into him and he groaned into her ear.

"You're killing me Bambi," his lust filled voice whispered into her ear, sending chills down her spine. He gripped her hips tightly and sucked her earlobe and she gasped.

"I learnt from the best," she said breathlessly, as she continued to grind against him.

"Bathroom-now!" he growled.

"What?!" her eyeballs almost popped out. This was so hot but she had to be the voice of reason here. He grabbed her hand and led her to the ladies restrooms, "Colson-you can't be serious?!

"This is Jamaica sweets. We can't come here and not have hot, spontaneous sex in the bathroom," he slammed the door shut and made sure it was locked.

"What if we get caught?" she asked breathlessly, as he planted hot kisses on her neck.

"Too bad-they will just have to hear you screaming my name," he said in a husky voice, before he pushed her against the door and took her right there and then.

Welcome to Jamaica.

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

The rest of the night was a blur and just when Y/N thought she was ready to head home, Colson told her the night was only beginning.

"We've been invited to an after party at Sean Paul's and I have been trying forever to get a collabo with him. This is my chance," Colson said as they jumped into the limo.

"Can you maybe drop me off at home? I'm totally wasted," Y/N groaned and leaned back on the leather seat.

"Not a chance sweets," Colson leaned in and kissed her until she was breathless, "better?" he asked with a smile.

"Hmmm," was all Y/N could day.

"We won't stay long. Promise," he assured her but they both knew it was a lie.

Colson kept her entertained throughout the night and never left her side. They danced, talked, drank and danced some more. Finally she couldn't stand on her feet any more so they went to sit down again. The people at their table were smoking a joint an passing it around and Colson pulled on it a couple of times before passing it to Y/N.

"No way!" she pushed his hand away.

"Don't tell me you've never smoked weed sweets?" he looked genuinely shocked.

"Never..not interested," she slurred, "I don't smoke."

"This is different. Besides-we're in Jamaica sweets. You can't be here and not experience this," he looked at the joint like it was gold, "come on just try it. Just one drag," he coaxed and his new found friends cheered her on.

"Okay, okay" she relented. Against her better judgement she took it and smoked it until she choked on the smoke.

"Yeah!" everyone cheered for her.

"Well done Bambi," Colson chuckled and rubbed her back.

To this day Y/N couldn't remember how she got home that night.

Colson teased her about it the next day. Apparently she danced on the table and almost did a strip show but he had stopped her just in time. He even got a lap dance.

"You're a bad influence Baker," she groaned and went back to sleep.

[thorne93]

History Repeats (Part 1)

Prompt: Life’s hard, right? Well throw in a not so great job, a broken heart, and chasing a pipe dream in LA. But could someone come along to make all the bad shit disappear? Or is he just another heartbreak waiting around the bend?

Warnings: language, drug addiction, alcohol addiction, angst/heartbreak

Word Count: 1562

Note: Aesthetic made by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo because she’s absolutely amazing Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo . Brainstorming from @carryonmyswansong

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

“I wanted a room with two queens and an east facing window!” the woman with short, curled hair informed for the tenth time, her face already beet red as she yelled at you.

“Ma’am, I am sorry. I see we booked you with two queens and you’ll be on our seventh floor, with a south facing window,” you started to explain calmly.

“Does south sound like east to you? Jesus Christ, where do they hire you lazy brats?” she asked. 

Your poker face didn’t waiver though. You didn’t close your eyes, or take a deep breath, or shake your head slightly. You continued to smile and apologize. 

“You’re absolutely right, ma’am. But with the awards in the city and the influx of visitors for the winter--”

“I don’t care if all of Europe is here, I booked this trip over three months ago! My room should be available to me now!” she shouted, causing other patrons in the nearly full lobby to stare at the two of you. 

That was the good and bad thing about being a hotel right outside the city center, just on the outskirts. You didn’t get entirely booked a lot, but on rare occasions you did, it meant something.

You had been asked to step in for your coworker Danielle, when the woman found out she wasn’t on an east facing window. You’d been going back and forth with her for over twenty minutes now, her screaming in your face. This wasn’t super atypical as a hotel manager. Angry patrons of the hotel, confused guests, exhausted tourists, frustrated honeymooners...It was your job to ensure every stay here was a pleasant one, and you did want that. Why wouldn't you? But on some days, people like Mrs. Taucht here really wore on your nerves. Why did people have to be so cruel and mean when all you were doing was trying to provide them with excellent service? 

Smiling your best customer smile, you offered sweetly, “I am terribly sorry. I can refund you some of your money and perhaps you could take the south facing room, and as soon as an east facing room is available I’ll inform you.”

“Some?! Some of my money?” she shrieked, shaking her head. “I want all of my money back and free room service! This is absolutely ridiculous.” She turned to look to another guest waiting to check in. “Do you believe this?” she asked him, and you’d been so preoccupied focusing on her, you hadn’t noticed that the lobby was so getting backed up. You quickly turned to Danielle. 

“Open up check in five, and start taking everyone from this line immediately. Check everyone in as fast as you can,” you quietly spoke to her as Mrs. Taucht ranted to the man in the line behind her. 

Danielle nodded and waved everyone over from your line, telling them that she could help them at the end of the counter, while Todd, Eric, and Trish helped as quickly as they could on their lanes. 

“Actually, I can,” the man with golden hair responded politely. “I’ve been to this city many times and you wouldn’t believe how crowded it can get and how fast,” he informed.

“But I made these reservation months ago,” she reiterated.

“Well, with all respect, ma’am, you do have a room,” the guest retorted. “It’s just not the one you wanted. If I were you, I would ask for a full refund of your room, take that, and go the room they have booked for you. I would prefer any room, to standing here in the lobby, shouting at the manager…But that’s just me.”

Mrs. Taucht stared at the man, then turned back to you slowly. “What he said,” she sighed. “Can you give me the full refund and forget the room?”

“Absolutely, ma’am. It was our mistake, and I do apologize. I will throw in free breakfast every day for your stay, for your patience and understanding. Is that alright?”

She nodded her head side to side. “I would say that’s fair. Thank you.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I will get to work on this refund for you, and it’ll be settled when you leave, okay?” you sweetly said.

“Alright.”

At that, she took her things and left, heading for the elevators to the rooms. You wanted to take a deep breath, but refrained, trying to keep composure for the nice guest that was next. 

“Just a moment, sir, let me enter some notes for her account,” you said politely before clacking in all the notes for you to finish later tonight. “I deeply apologize for that. I know you’ve been waiting and now you’re about to wait more.” You let a small laugh out, hoping to lighten the mood.

“I’m in no rush, besides, you’ve got your hands full,” he said with a sideways grin. He was rather handsome, now that he was closer. Warm, brown eyes, dark blonde hair, a reserved smile...But something about him seemed familiar. He had said he stayed in the city a lot. Maybe he’d checked in once before. But...his face didn’t look like one you’d forget. 

“You noticed that, hmm?” you asked with a bigger laugh. 

“Hard to miss,” he remarked.

“Too true. Thank you, for putting in a good word for me, there, by the way,” you said. This random man had no  reason to stick up for you or make your job or day easier. 

“Oh it was nothing. I was just trying to get her to move so I could get checked in,” he said evenly.

The humor whisked away from you as you nodded, realizing he wasn’t really helping you.

“Right,” you concurred, as you finished up the notes, your eyes shooting down to the computer screen. 

He leaned forward and smiled at you. “I’m joking. I was happy to help.”

Your eyes flitted back up to him as a giant grin spread across your face. This was new for you, unusual. People didn’t really go out of their way to help you. You were a bit of a wallflower all your life. Not an outcast, but not the brightest star. You were the girl that no one picked out of a crowd. You were the girl that was overlooked, rather than looked over. It wasn’t so much your looks, you’d always felt you looked average. But that was the problem: you were average. Average looks, average grades, average car, average education. Nothing about you was stellar.

Maybe that’s why Jason had left. Your boyfriend of two years had decided to dump you five days ago, just after the new year. What a way to kick it off…

“Well thank you, again. What name is your reservation under?” you asked as you queued to the page to look up check ins.

“Hayden...Christensen,” he warmly informed, seeming to hesitate though.

You smiled and nodded. “Ah. Found you. Two queens, sixth floor, room 602. Is that alright?”

“As long as it has a bed and a TV, I could care less,” he said with a shrug and a smile. 

“Simple man?” you lightly inquired as you got out his room keys and began to scan the code to them.

“Relatively,” he replied with another shrug. “You? Simple woman?” he asked. 

“In some ways, yeah, I’d like to think so,” you said, contemplating. 

“And in others?” he inquires.

“Well...none of us are simple, are we?” you questioned, a bit of ominimity in your voice. 

He nodded slightly. “I suppose that’s true.” 

You stared at him a moment longer, not exactly realizing you were staring until it became awkward and you realized you needed to hand him the room keys and information. 

“Ah! Here are your keys, here is a brochure to the spa, restaurants, and room service. Here is the number to the concierge, the manager--me, and the hotel operator,” you said, pointing at everything with a pen.

“Thank you very much,” he said, taking his cards and the pamphlet. 

“Any time, sir. I’m Y/N if you need anything, or if you need a manager, feel free to give me a call at any time,” you said warmly. Typically, you didn’t lay on that extra charm unless a customer was overtly rude or incredibly nice, and in this case he was incredibly nice, very handsome, and you still had this gnawing feeling that you’d seen him somewhere before. Therefore, if he was a returning patron to the hotel, you wanted to make him feel extra special.

“Will do. Thanks,” he said as he grabbed his bags, waved to you, and took off toward the elevators.

Once he was out of sight, you dealt with the new family coming up to check in and your day continued as usual. The rest of the shift, you were racking your brain trying to remember where you’d seen him from. You couldn’t place it at all, and that bothered you because typically you didn’t forget a face. After awhile though, you shrugged it off, figuring it would come to you later.

In your down time, after verifying the room service orders were fulfilled, requests were taken care of, and the kitchen staff was on schedule, you sat down and began playing around with some music, scribbling down some lyrics in your ratty notebook that you carried with you everywhere.

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

Forever Tag: 

@essie1876

@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@missinstantgratification

@thejemersoninferno

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@paintballkid711

@pandacookieowo

History Repeats/Hayden

@haydens-moles

[herewegobacktomoon2]

Karaoke night

“Will they make it?” Maya asked concerned.

“They have very severe burns and all the smoke inhalation isn't helping, but you guys arrived just in time, so it hasn't compromised anything irreversibly.” Bailey said “We can't make promises but I'm positive about it”.

“I really hope you're right” Maya added, letting out a slow breath she didn't know she was holding.

“Luckily for you, I usually am!” Bailey exclaimed, raising her eyebrows in satisfaction, trying to lighten the mood  “Go home Bishop, if there's any significant update, I'll let you know”.

“Thank you Bailey”. She said, checking the time and seeing her shift was due to be over like an hour ago, so she opted for heading home.

She had tough calls almost every week, but some of them hit her harder than the others, and this one was one of them: they had arrived at the scene when it was already a three-alarm fire, because they couldn't put out the fire as it seemed to be originated by something that kept on igniting it every time they tried to use water or normal extinguishers. The problem was that when 23 arrived there first, their captain thought the fire started because of a short-circuit, which wasn't completely wrong, but what they hadn't noticed was that there was something more. They kept on using CO2 extinguishers, but that didn't seem to work. When 19 arrived, the situation was insanely bad: they still hadn't been able to rescue the couple inside of the house and nothing had improved. When Maya checked the structure, she noticed a slightly detached garage, which was linked to the building through a dangerous roofing containing asbestos but hadn't  been checked: the fire kept on reigniting because it was a metal involving fire, and that's why both water and CO2 were useless. Luckily, they had the right equipment to contain the situation, due to a training course they had done previously that week: while she contacted the specialized team for these kind of fires, they were able to put it out after a while, and she had to go in to help find the couple. When they found them, they were unconscious, but they still had a pulse: it was weak, but it was there. What moved Maya so much was how they had found them: they were two women, full of sooth and dust, one of them trying to cover with her body the other, trying to prevent her from inhaling too much smoke. They had rings on their hands, the same one, so they were probably a couple: obviously, it wasn't the first time she had to save a family, but that view made her think of Carina, her family. At the only thought of losing her, she felt sick, she couldn't breathe, but she had to focus back on the present, to be able to actively help. As soon as she was out, she jumped on the aid car and, while heading towards the hospital, using the update of her probably being late at home as an excuse, she called Carina, who had a day-off, just to hear her voice and let it soothes her.

While she was driving home, she replayed that image in her head, over and over again, and she felt her chest tighten, as if the car was closing in on her. Before stepping inside, she shook her thoughts away and took the keys. As soon as she opened the door, she was welcomed by the warmest smile she had ever seen.

“Ciao Bella! I missed you” Carina said, coming over towards the blonde, who didn't even bother to say anything, just going straight for a lingering kiss.

“I missed you too. A lot.” Maya finally added, looking the Italian in the eyes, before pulling her in a  tight hug.

“How was your day?” Carina asked, noticing that something was probably off, but willing to give Maya the time she needed to talk about it.

“It was tough, actually pretty tough” she replied, exhausted “but I'm finally here with you and that's all that matters right now”, she added, caressing Carina's face, kissing her softly.

“Yeah, I'm always here with you bella!” Carina stated, trying to reassure Maya, who still seemed a little off “if you want, we can call Andy and Vic and put off the party, so that you can relax”.

At those words, Maya's eyes went wide: how was it possible that she had forgotten about it?

“Mmm, it looks like someone forgot about the party here” Carina chuckled against Maya's lips.

“Yep, I know, I know. I'm hopeless.” the blonde said, smiling a little “Anyway, no, I don't want to postpone it. I think it will be fun. I only need to take a shower and I'm ready”

“Take your time, bella. Vic and Andy will be here in an hour.” the Italian explained

“Sooooo... that means you could join me?” Maya asked, not as flirty as usual, just needing to have her girlfriend close.

“Mmm, let me think...” Carina faked doubting her answer “As the snacks and everything are already set up, I think I can make the effort to join you” she added jokingly.

“Glad to know spending time with me is an effort, Dr. De Luca, how kind of you to let me know it!” she exclaimed, trying to sound offended.

“Well, that's the only effort I'm never gonna complain about, Captain Bishop.” she reiterated, in order to keep the mood light and easy, wishing to cheer Maya up a little.

“Mmm, that's a pretty good point, I have to admit” the blonde grinned softly, wrapping her arm around the Italian's waist, heading to the bathroom.

While they were showering, they were standing under the hot water, next to each other, Carina gently stroking Maya's hair, “Promise me” the blonde said, out of the blue “that you won't leave me”.

It caught the Italian off guard, but she immediately replied “Of course, I promise bella. Why would you think so?” she whispered, turning Maya's face towards her so that they were facing each other.

“The call, today... I couldn't help but think about you: that couple, their lives turned upside down in the blink of an eye... I can't lose you” her voice cracked.

“And you won't bambina, ever “ Carina knew she couldn't make promises, because life is unpredictable, but she felt the urge to reassure Maya and she truly believed her own words “Come here”.

They stood there, hugging each other until Maya's breath started slowing down. When they got out of the shower, hands still intertwined, they quickly got ready and within 15 minutes, the doorbell rang. “Hi Andy! Hi Vic! Hi...ehm...Michelle? Did I get it right?” Carina greeted warmly.

“Yeah, you're right!” Michelle smiled back “thanks for having me over without warning.” she added, looking around, trying to spot where Maya was.

Andy noticed her and gave her a look, before walking towards Carina and asking if her friend was okay, receiving a slight nod from the Italian.

A few seconds later, Maya walked into the living room, going straight to where Carina was standing, near the sofa, pressing a kiss on her cheek, looking at her with heart eyes.

“Oh C'mon guys, you're too cheesy. I can't with you two” Vic shouted, making everyone laugh.

“Shut up Hughes, or I'll kick your ass at the karaoke contest later, and also you don't want to be on toilet duty for next week, do you?” the blonde reiterated, raising her eyebrows.

“See?” Vic said raising her hands, looking at Carina “she is like that with EVERYONE.  She's an aggressive pitbull with us, then with you... it turns out she's a little puppy. What kind of black magic is this???” the younger firefighter added teasingly “And anyway, that's abuse of power, Cap.”

Carina couldn't help but laugh and so did Maya, even though she didn't wait to tease back “Good call Hughes. Two weeks on toilet duty, you're welcome.” she stated, getting a groan as a response.

“Ok, something is telling me that it's going to be a loooong night” Andy said, walking towards the table “Can we eat something, I'm starving!” she continued, picking up some bags she had brought with drinks and homemade tacos.

“These tacos smell soo good” Carina stated, helping Andy to serve the food, while Vic and Maya were setting up the TV, the audio and the sofa for the contest.

“Michelle prepared them, it's my tía's special recipe” she explained, inviting Michelle to join them.

“Oh thank you” You didn't have to!” Carina said “I'm sure they taste amazing.”

“I really hope so” Michelle shyly smiled “So...you are an OB/GYN at Grey Sloan?” she asked, out of curiosity.

“Yep, I've been working there for three years now.” Carina replied “It's an amazing job: every life is worth every problem you may run into, all the cryings and the misunderstandings” she continued, thinking about Teddy's child, Amelia's and all the other babies she was able to bring into this world. “What about you?” she asked back.

“Well, I'm a bit of a mess right now” she chuckled “at first, when Andy joined the academy, I wanted to do the same, especially when I heard about some friends of hers who were really hot, but I gave up before even sending my application, I wasn't cut out for the job.” she admitted “So I started dancing again and now I'm giving salsa classes for little kids, but it doesn't pay off for the effort. Kids are exhausting!”.

“I see your point, they are often hyperactive!” the Italian added “but I love dancing! A friend of mine has a school and I know she's looking for staff, if you want, I can talk to her about you!” she offered kindly, not catching the hint about the “hot friends” which actually was only about Maya.

“Are you serious??” she almost shouted “That would be amazing!!”

“Yes, I am!” she laughed “I'll talk to her tomorrow and let you know!”.

“Thank you Carina, you made my day.” Michelle stated, a wide grin on her face.

“What's all this euphoria about?” Andy asked, pretty confused.

“Carina just told me that her friend is looking for qualified staff for her dance school, and it may mean no more crying kids” she answered, still a bit shocked.

“Oh and no more me hearing about your complains! That would be revolutionary” she joked “This needs a cheer”.

“What needs a cheer?” Maya and Vic asked together, walking towards the kitchen.

“Your girlfriend is an angel” Andy declared “and I'm starting to think she has magic powers for real.”

“I told you!! She's from an outer world” Vic added vehemently, getting looks from Maya and Andy “Ok, that sounded a little bit too aggressive but you got the point! Anyway, I'm up for the cheer!”.

“So am I, even though I'm slightly confused” Maya admitted, walking to Carina and wrapping her arm around her “but I know your special powers so, I've no doubts it's well deserved” she whispered, making Carina blush and turn towards her.

“I love you” she whispered back, leaving a kiss on Maya's lips, as if they were alone in their bubble, but that didn't last for too long.

“Nope, not again under my salad.” Vic stated, pulling Maya away towards the couch “We have to play, but if you're in this mode we won't even start”.

“Just... out of curiosity: which mode are you talking about?” Maya furrowed her eyebrow.

“Are you seriously asking me that? You only have two: the “Bad bitch” mode or “the simp” one. I guess you'll figure it out on you're own which one I was talking about”.

“You're risking a lot tonight Hughes” Andy chuckled, knowing her friend.

“I'm speaking facts and you know that Herrera” Vic said, matter of fact.

After having some food and a few drinks so that everyone was a little tipsy, but still almost sober, they got settled in the couch and Vic explained the rules.

“So, the game works like this: Andy will be the judge and she will pick the songs. As soon as one of us knows the title, we have to get up and the first one who does it must say the title, the singers and sing a little part of it. One point only if we get everything right. Is everything clear?” She demanded.

“Yep, but... what are the teams?” Maya asked, looking at the younger firefighter but stroking Carina's hand who was sitting next to her.

“Oh yes, I had forgotten. Carina and I will be together, so Maya and Michelle, you two make the other team.”  Vic added.

“Wait, what? Why?” Maya groaned disappointed, causing Carina to laugh.

“Because we need you active and present, and if you're in the same team as Carina, you won't definitely be that.” Andy teased.

“Fine” Maya mumbled “Michelle: we have to win!”

“You bet!” Michelle immediately replied, squeezing the blonde's arm with no reason, causing Carina to crinkle her nose.

“You ready? 3...2...1...”

Music playing (Blank Space)

As soon as the first words were sang, Maya stood up and shouted “Me, me, I know it.”

“Ok, title and singer. Then you have to sing a part which is not the refrain”. Andy stated.

“Blank Space, by Taylor Swift.” she answered fiercely and then started to sing as a teenager driving in her car in the middle of the night “And I know you heard about me, So hey, let's be friends I'm dying to see how this one ends, Grab your passport and my hand...”

“Ok, ok, I got it, you know the song!” Andy laughed at her friend's enthusiasm, glad she was feeling better.

“Sorry, I got carried away” Maya admitted, turning to look at Carina, who was there, looking back at her with a loving smile.

“Ok, 1-0 for Maya and Michelle.” Andy remarked, making Vic groan. “Let's go with another one...”

Music playing (I like it)

Within a second, Michelle got up and started moving around “No me esperaba un golpe tan bajo prima” she said, starting to sing along with the song which she was weirdly used to listening to every time she broke up “I like it by Cardi B”

“That's not fair, what's all this camaraderie?” Vic mumbled “ you're the judge!!”

“I just wanted to piss you off a little” Andy chuckled “Anyway, 2-0 for Maya and Michelle”.

“Carina, we can't let them win!! I want you to be the most competitive you've ever been in your life!” Vic said, almost commanding it.

“Yes, I promise we'll win! I'm ready to kick asses” Carina stated, causing Maya to laugh a little.

“Here we go with the third one...” Andy said.

Music playing (she looks so perfect)

On the first note, Carina jumped off the couch “ It's She looks so perfect by 5SOS”, and she continued, screaming to the top of her lungs from the very first second until the refrain came “She looks so perfect standing there, In my American Apparel underwear, And I know now, that I’m so down, Your lipstick stain is a work of art, I’ve got your name tattooed in an arrow heart, And I know now, that I’m so doooooown”.

While singing, she got closer to Maya, feeling every word she was saying, causing the blonde to blush before she pulled her in for a soft kiss and a gentle stroking on her chin.

“Ok, ok, I'm not gonna complain because you got us the point but please come back to this world, cause we're still 2-1 for them, the judge is impartial and we need to win” Vic said, pulling Carina back towards her seat.

“Sorry, I got carried away too.” Carina admitted sheepishly, probably alcohol inhibiting all of her composure.

“Yep, you two should walk around with stones on your feet, you get carried away a little too often” the younger firefighter mumbled.

“Competitive Vic is quite a pain in the neck” Andy teased “not the normal one is something so different though”. Vic faked to get offended before Andy picked the fourth song.

Music playing (Chicago, All that jazz)

All of them were looking at each other confused, but Vic immediately got up and started dancing “Start the car, I know a whoopee spot, Where the gin is cold, But the piano's hot. It's just a noisy hall,Where there's a nightly brawl, And all that jaaaaaazz!”

“It's All that jazz from the musical Chicago by Catherine Zeta Jones” Vic shouted, out of breath “C'mon guys, you don't know it?????”

“I heard it but I didn't remember the title” Maya admitted “Anyway, how about the camaraderie now?? You're the only one which is into musical sooo...” she groaned.

“I guess now we're even.” Vic nonchalantly claimed.. “We can do it Carina!”

“You're unbelievable” Maya mumbled, before the fifth song started playing.

Music playing (Mirrors)

Before Michelle could get up, Carina was already singing, Vic already celebrating for the point while the Italian was once again getting closer to Maya, who this time was whispering the lyrics together with her girlfriend, not caring about the lost point.

“I don't wanna lose you now, I'm looking right at the other half of me, the vacancy that sat in my heart is a space that now you hold.” they both sang together, lightly swinging from side to side, with Maya's head buried in Carina's neck getting an “AWW” from Andy and the usual groan from Vic, who was secretly enjoying the scene which actually looked like a film.

“It's Mirrors by Justin Timberlake anyway”. Carina said, wanting to be correct.

After a few minutes, everyone got back in their seat, after deciding Andy should just opt for the shuffle play.

“3-2 for Carina and Vic now” Andy remarked. “Ready?”

Music playing (Numb)

Vic and Michelle gave each other a look, the song playing not really their genre and also Andy seemed pretty confused. Carina knew the song but was too worried checking in on Maya's reaction that she didn't even think about getting up to get the point.

Maya downplayed it very well, trying to keep the mood light so after saying that it was Numb, by Linking Park, she started singing as if she was at a concert. Nobody but Carina noticed the change in her eyes and with the excuse of having a little pause before continuing, she took Maya's hand and brought her to their bedroom.

“Hey bambina, are you okay? I know how much that song means for you...” Carina asked gently, caressing Maya's face.

“Yeah, I'm okay, it was just a moment, it hit me a little, but I'm okay, I promise” Maya admitted, looking down, searching for Carina's left hand.

Carina knew it was the song Maya used to listen to every day when she became aware of her father abusive behavior, she knew how much all the words showed how bad Maya was hurting and that even though she had come a long way, scars could easily start bleeding again.

“Come here” the Italian said, hugging the blonde as tight as she could, knowing that it would give her the comfort she needed.

“I love you so much” Maya said, pulling Carina in for another lingering kiss.

“I love you too”, she whispered back against her lips, before kissing her again.

Within few seconds, they were back in the living room, Vic giving Maya an annoyed look.

“What??” Maya asked.

“You're trying to bribe my teammate!!” Vic shouted, causing Maya to mumble.

“Maya, we need to win!! If we do, I promise I'll bring more tacos the next time!” Michelle said, taking Maya by the hand and pulling her towards her seat. Maya didn't even notice the little flirt, but Carina surely did and she didn't like it at all, but she didn't want to make a scene so she just started cursing the woman internally.

“Ok, 3-3...here we go” Andy reestablished the order.

Music playing (Born this way)

As it was hard to find a straight person in that house, they all got up but the very first one was paradoxically Vic, who even started dancing with the exact steps. “Born this way by the Queen of Queens, Lady Gaga” She shouted, in a very Travis' way, as she kept on singing it.

“What kind of joke is this?” Maya teased “You're the only straight person in here and you just stole our hymn!! That's not fair!!”.

“Take it up with Travis. This is the soundtrack to his workout sessions everyday, so I know every single note of this song” she admitted proudly “I think people could actually believe I'm Lady Gaga if it wasn't for the height difference” she joked.

“Oh yeah, because height is the only difference” Maya teased “Hughes, I love your naivete, it's so cute!” she added.

“Bishop, fuck you” Vic reiterated, throwing a cushion at her friend.

“Ok, it's getting serious now. 4-3 for Carina and Vic: these are the last two songs. Maya and Michelle, if you win this, there's the final battle”. Andy declared.

“We're ready” Maya replied, on the edge of the couch.

Music playing (Dura)

As soon as the music started playing, Vic understood it was some raeggeton music which she didn't know at all but Michelle undoubtedly would. In fact, within two seconds, the Latina got up, shouting “It's Dura, by Daddy Yankee” and started singing, probably a little too tipsy. “Cuando yo la vi, Dije, si esa mujer fuera para mí, Perdóname, te lo tenía que decir, 'Tás dura, dura”

While singing she got closer and closer to Maya, looking at her like she was addressing those words to her, but Maya didn't even seem to care or understand what was going on. In the meantime, Carina was watching the scene, trying hard to contain herself, before she heard Michelle whispering something in Spanish to Andy.

“Si no fuera que ella está con Carina, ya le habría pedido que tengamos una cita...esta tía esta demasiado buena. Deberías habérmela presentado antes prima: os conocéis desde la academia, no me lo puedo creer”.

Carina was pretty fluent in Spanish, so she understood everything: all she wanted to do was telling Michelle to stay the hell away from her girlfriend, but what she did instead was showing that Maya wasn't going anywhere.

While the music was still playing, she got up and sat on Maya's lap, starting to dance in a very flirty way: the blonde was now more than alert and she couldn't help but smile at the Italian, gently caressing her back and kissing her neck. If it wasn't for Vic again, they had (at least Maya) completely forgotten they weren't alone.

“What was that for?” Maya asked grinning to Carina.

“Nothing, just a little reminder” Carina smirked before kissing the blonde and then going back to her seat.

“This is the last song, I want you to be extremely concentrated” Andy stated in a serious tone.

“We got this” Vic said “We have to win” she added, talking to Carina.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Carina replied, sitting on the edge.

For this last song, Andy decided to take a little revenge on Maya: as she had won their last Taboo game, she wanted to give Carina and Vic a little help to get their last point and win the competition. She opted for an Italian song, but little did she know Maya had improved a lot...

Music playing (Anche fragile)

It was a fraction of second: Maya was already up, the lyrics hadn't even started but she had already said the title “It's an Italian song, it's Anche Fragile by Elisa”.

Andy and Vic were shocked, but not Carina, as it was her favorite song and she used to play it on repeat on their nights together, so she knew that Maya would have recognized it.

“Well, you have to sing it or you won't get the point” Andy declared, sure that her friend couldn't bring her self to speak a word of that “weird” language.

Carina chuckled knowing that Maya would have probably messed up all the words, but instead, she was caught off guard, as the blonde started singing it.

“Tienimi su quando sto per cadere, tu siediti qui parlami ancora se non ho parole, Io non te lo chiedo mai, ma portami al mare, a ballare...”  

Everyone's eyes were wide open at the unexpected event that had just happened and the Italian couldn't believe it either.

“Bella, you learned it!” she said, still a little moved from the gesture.

“Yes, I learned the whole song actually” she confessed, blushing a little.

“Thank you” Carina said grinning, pulling Maya in for a soft kiss.

“Ok Bishop, I must admit: you deserved it” Vic admitted, raising her hands “you practically sang a song in Italian, that was awesome! And it also shows how much of a simp you are!” Vic couldn't help but teasing.

“Shut up, Hughes” Maya shouted, throwing back at her the cushion from before.

“Oh crap, it's almost Midnight and I had said to Robert I would have been home by 23. I think we should go!” Andy said, picking up her stuff “Thank you girls, for everything, it was good fun and I really enjoyed it!” she added, heading towards the door.

“Yep, so did I, despite knowing that my Cap will put me on toilet duty only because I speak facts about how in love she is with her super hot Italian girlfriend” Vic teased again, getting a little smack from Maya “No, apart from joking, it was awesome! We have to do this again”.

“I'll think about it, very carefully” Maya teased back.

“Thank you for everything, really. Especially you Carina, about the work” Michelle said, making Carina to force a little smile “And thank you Maya, it was very nice getting to see you again” she added, caressing Maya's hand.

Before waving them goodbye, that's when Carina thought she should make things a little bit clearer: “Lo siento mucho, pero quería decirte que Maya ya tiene novia, así que deja tu alma en paz y empieza a buscar a otra chica. Sé que es muy guapa, pero también sé que es mi novia y quisiera que tu también no te olvidaras de eso. Entendido?” [I'm really sorry, but I wanted you to know that Maya has already a girlfriend. So, just give it up and start looking for someone else. I know she's hot, but I also know she's my girlfriend and I'd like that you didn't forget about it either. Got it?]

As those words let her mouth, Michelle's jaw dropped and completely embarrassed, she reached Andy who was waiting for her with Vic in the car.

When Carina closed the door, she turned around and she saw a very confused Maya staring at her: “So you know Spanish??” she asked.

“A little, I studied it at high-school and kept on practicing it with TV series” she explained.

“And why were you talking to Andy's cousin in Spanish” Maya asked again, still not figuring out what was going on.

“I just wanted to make things clearer and I thought it was the best way” she said, walking towards the blonde and wrapping her arms around her waist.

“And what did you need to get across that well that couldn't be said in English?” Maya chuckled, putting her arm around Carina's neck.

“Maya, you didn't notice, did you?” Carina wondered, laughing a little.

“Notice what?” Maya asked, now more confused than ever.

“She was flirting with you!! And I also heard her talking to Andy about you in Spanish, but unluckily to her, I understood everything”. She explained.

“Wait, really???” Maya couldn't believe it. She didn't acknowledged it at all, too busy admiring Carina.

“Yes, so I just wanted to let her know that she better stays away from you, if her intentions are flirting all the time!” Carina groaned jealously, making Maya laugh.

“Oh so, someone is jealous... it could be a good thing...” Maya smirked “anyway, you only preserved hr from putting effort in something she couldn't achieve. I'm madly in love with you and you only.” she continued, more softly.

“That's a good thing too.” Carina smiled brightly, resting her head on Maya's neck and pulling her closer to steal her one more kiss.

As soon as they pulled away from the kiss to catch some air, Maya whispered something that made Carina's heart skip a beat.

“E non nasconderti con le battute, non mi sconcentrare, Stiamo a vedere dove possiamo arrivare E ridiamo insieme che ridiamo sempre, sempre, sempre”

“I thought you only learned it by heart” Carina said, eyes getting watery but the will to smile much stronger than the one to cry.

“I learned it so that I could understand all the words and why it meant so much to you” Maya admitted, Carina's smile growing wider and wider.

“And I also wanted you to know another thing...” Maya added.

“Tell me” Carina replied, moved and curious at the same time.

“You know that line that goes “Senza tutta questa fretta mi ameresti davvero?” she asked, and after getting a light nod in approval, she went on “Well, the answer is yes, I'd love you even if the world would never come to an end, 'cause I'll never get tired of loving you.”

“Bella I-” Carina tried to speak, but her voice cracked a little “You're amazing. You're probably the best thing that has ever happened to me.” she added.

“Probably?” Maya asked, furrowing her eyebrows, trying to sound offended.

“Yes, because I know that what we can make together, our story, our love, will always get better, day by day. Us is definitely the best thing that has ever happened to me” Carina explained, caressing the blonde's jaw.

“Mmm... you get away with it for tonight Dr. De Luca” Maya teased.

“Did I?” Carina teased back.

“Yeah, even though I think that, as it is midnight, we should start making the best of our next day from its very beginning” Maya smirked.

“Well, if you put it that way...” Carina grinned, pulling Maya towards their bedroom, knowing that she would always find the solution to every doubt and fear of hers in those deep blue eyes, that spoke nothing but unconditional love, which she was wholeheartedly willing to reciprocate.

[erza-haninozuka]

Broken

Characters: Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

Words: 1,459

Warnings: Angst, hints to depression and suicide. 

A/N: This was inspired by the best duet. Honestly, I didn’t mean for this one shot to go the direction it did. It happened to go this way once I started writing cause my first intention was to make a comfort fic but this happened.... Sorry. 

You hadn’t left your room in what seemed like days, making the worry bubble up even more inside Kirishima’s mind. A type of curiosity had him seeking out your room, standing outside your door with this uncertainty that you would answer.

But he took a deep breath and knocked anyways, the sound of his hand hitting on the wood practically echoing the hall. 

His senses seemed as if they were in overdrive. He could catch the slight stir in your room, your feet gently padding against the floor before you unlocked the door and revealed yourself.

Your hair was disheveled like you just rolled out of bed. Exhaustion was painted all over your face and your eyes were red and puffy. 

He frowned softly, taking in your full appearance, “Y/N, what’s wrong?” 

You opened your mouth to speak but all that came out was a choked sob.

His eyes widened and he quickly wrapped you up in his embrace, lifting you up, gently closing the door with his butt, and carrying you back to your bed. 

He immediately sat down with you in his arms, rubbing your back. 

“Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me?” 

You still hadn’t spoken a word as the tears came out, cascading down your cheeks and into his shirt. 

Kirishima waited patiently, letting you cry into his shoulder as he held you, replacing the rubbing sensation on your back to gently rocking you instead.

He gently placed a kiss to your head, listening to your sobs as his heart began to break from your pain. 

Kirishima wanted nothing more than to take away the burden plaguing your heart, he wanted to help you stand and face whatever it was together.

He was bracing himself for every possibility that you might utter, but when you told him it still seemed to catch him by surprise.

Your voice broke and cracked between sobs as you told him you couldn’t keep it up anymore. You were just so tired and over it.

He gently cupped your face in his hands, looking into the withered sea that was held in your eyes.

They were dull from mental exhaustion and he placed another gentle kiss, this time to your forehead.

“Please, stay right here. I’ll be right back. I promise. Please, just don’t leave me okay?” 

All you could do was nod and curl back up into a ball as Kirishima hurried from your room.

It was the fastest he had ever moved, borrowing speed from Iida he mentally thought.

He quickly gathered some of your favorite things and one of his hoodies before hurrying back to your room with all the items in hand.

The Sunny D Smooth was placed on your bedside table, the sour straws set next to it, and a few chocolate bars. He handed you his hoodie to hold or wear before taking his place next to you. 

Again you were wrapped up in his embrace. His voice was so low and gentle as he gave you words of encouragement, telling you he would be here no matter what. When you felt like you could no longer fight, he would fight for you and carry you through. 

Kirishima even turned on your favorite show, doing everything he could in his power to make you smile. 

But his powers weren’t strong enough to erase the pain and the weight that clouded you so darkly.

That night he stayed in your room, remaining by your side. 

As the days began to wear by you seemed to be getting better, he thought. So Kirishima began to give you some space, thinking it was what you needed and that he had smothered you.

But it was the wedge that drove you away.

That looming darkness in your head had convinced you he no longer cared and that you were just a burden to him to begin with. He must’ve finally grown tired of you.

The sense of rationality knew otherwise, but that monster had won. 

Your darkness won.

The monster’s sick, twisted smile was all you could picture, thinking of how much better everyone would be once you were gone. Convinced you were just a burden and everyone just pretended to care. So you said goodbye to the silence of your room before leaving.

You were gone.

The news broke out like wildfire, and all Kirishima could do was sit there in disbelief. It couldn’t have been true, you were just here the day before. 

You had been smiling and laughing, you appeared to be better so he had given you some space. 

But you had slipped right through the cracks between his fingers, there would be no way for him to fight for you anymore because you had lost the battle. 

The class had erupted into whispers, everyone asking each other questions and were painted with disbelief.

Kirishima’s face seemed to mirror that same feeling, questions swirling through his mind as tears began to blur his vision, practically making everyone in the room seem to be blobs. They began to flow down his face like a river that he couldn’t stop. 

He thought he was helping- did he not do enough? Was he not strong enough to help you through? 

I didn’t do enough. 

I wasn’t strong enough.

I didn’t do a good job.

I’m not fit to be a hero.

I couldn’t save you.

Those thoughts swirled his brain, crushing him with the reality that you were no longer here.

He let out a loud sob that startled the entire room, Bakugo looking over and knowing instantly.

Kirishima lost one of his best friends, and more importantly his partner. 

Guilt was looming around him and clouding his mind.

Bakugo broke through the bystanders, quickly yanking the redhead into a tight hug, surprising everyone around them.

“It’s not your fault, I’m sure you did what you could. You don’t need to blame yourself.” 

Kirishima couldn’t respond as he cried into Bakugo, holding onto his friend tightly.

Bakugo’s jaw clenched, “Shitty Hair! I mean it, don’t fucking blame yourself for their actions. It’s not your fault. It sucks that they’re gone, I hate it too. But we can’t just sit around asking ourselves what we should’ve done differently! Instead we should remember them and the life they lived.”

“Bakugo is right,” Aizawa said as he appeared in the room.

Their eyes fell on their old home room teacher. 

Aizawa didn’t care, he pulled the young man in for a tight hug too, knowing his past with you and how your lives were intertwined.

Aizawa knew his pain to an extent, the blame and guilt tangling inside his head- he had felt it many years ago when he lost a friend during a fight. 

“Bakugo is right,” he reiterated. “Grieve how you see fit, but don’t let that guilt win. You’ll end up making yourself miserable. I know you couldn’t save them, but that’s why you go out there and you save everyone else that you can. You do it for them. Live your life for them.” 

Kirishima could only nod and attempt to dry his face. He kept their words in mind as he got through the next few days. 

He had his chance to finally say goodbye. He was there long enough to do so, but he left before they put you in the ground.

That was something he wasn’t quite ready for.

So the next few weeks drug by, Kirishima sailing through his emotions before he finally gathered the courage to go to your gravesite.

The dirt was still piled up, not yet leveled back out and currently unmarked still as they waited for your headstone. He was careful to stand between the graves and not over someone as he sat down, the tears began to flow down.

The only sound he could hear was the wind rustling through the trees and the plastic break on the lid as he opened up the Sunny D Smooth, a drink you always claimed it was hard to feel sad when you were drinking it.

He opened the cold liquid to help ease his heart and bring a smile to his face even if for a moment as he drank it.

And you were right. Despite all these emotions swirling around it was a bit difficult to feel so sad with this going into your system. Something about it’s color, taste, and smoothness bringing a sense of comfort. 

He let out a gentle, pained sigh as he hugged his hoodie closer to him, catching your dying scent that lingered in the threads. 

“I love you Y/N. I miss you and I’m gonna do what I can to fight for you. I’ll live for you, you can rest easy now.”

[echo-hiraeth]

“Will you just shut that kriffing mouth of yours and listen for a second?” Din Djarin x GN! Reader

Summary: Reader was forced to kill someone when a bounty retrieval went rogue and is pestered by memories of the scene. Din tries to comfort them to the best of his abilities.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mentions of violence and blood, injury, death, some fluff to balance it all out (:

Masterlist

It was supposed to be an easy job but it had (not surprisingly) turned into a complete shitshow. Karga had slid the puck across the table, informing the Mandalorian that it was just a harmless quarry. Din was eager to accept it and take things slow from there on out. Because for months now everything had been pure chaos and hecticness, it started to take a toll on the three of you.

The baby started getting more fussy and restless, sensing the stress and pent-up frustrations within the Crest. It had sounded like a dream, the perfect opportunity for the both of you to take a break.

“No matter what happens, stay in the ship”, Din ordered while slinging his pulsar rifle over his shoulder. “If you need anything, talk to me.”

He slid a tiny device into your clammy hand, a commlink. You looked up at him, giving him a half smile. No matter the stakes or risks, you always hated it when he left.

“Just be careful, please?” You gently rested your hand against his chest plate.

The bounty hunter tilted his helmet, trying to reassure his partner. “Don’t worry cyar’ika. It’s an easy job, should only take a couple hours.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. He’d survived way more dangerous trips, he’d be fine.

The Mandalorian turned to leave, opening the hull and promptly stepping outside. He reminded you to start up the ground security protocol and with that he took off. The shine of his beskar slowly fading away as he ventured into the distance.

Another bounty, another day alone on the ship. Well, that was until your foundling woke up and accompanied you. You spent an hour cleaning the ship, picking up dirty clothes and quickly sweeping the floors. By the time you got around to the small kitchen, you heard cooing and whining coming from Din’s cot.

As you opened the door you were met with those big brown eyes, melting your heart on sight.

“Good morning little one”, you mused, picking him up to press a gentle kiss to his fuzzy head.

He reached out, tiny hands cupping your face, as if trying to reciprocate the gesture. You chuckled, absolutely smitten by his antics. A chuckle of his own left his throat upon seeing you so relaxed.

“Let’s get you some breakfast ad’ika.”

 Karga was right, the bounty didn’t even fuss when Din went to collect him. He simply nodded and extended his arms, cooperating as the beskar-covered man secured the handcuffs around the quarry’s wrists. He was human, and if Din had to guess maybe in his sixties, face covered in wrinkles and scars, each telling a story of their own.

“I hope you didn’t have too much trouble getting here, the sandstorms tend to be quite intense.”

Din sighed, helping the quarry stand up and slowly guiding him out of the cantina. He rolled his eyes underneath the helmet, steadily becoming more and more annoyed with every attempt at conversation that left the old man’s mouth.

“Do you ever take that bucket off?”, the man questioned, gesturing towards the helmet.

“No living thing has seen my face since I swore to the creed”, the Mandalorian replied in a monotone voice.

“Oh so you can talk, you’re just stubborn.” The man let out a laugh, amused by his own remark.

The bounty hunter decided right there and then that his new guest would spend his time on the ship in the carbonite freezer, in silence. As the Crest came into view, Din started to pick up his pace, not caring about the sand starting to obstruct his visor.

“That’s the start of a new storm, if we don’t find cover soon, we’ll both be dead!” The man yelled, the sound of the harsh wind picking up almost drowning him out completely.

“Less talking more running”, the Mandalorian commanded, dragging the bounty by the collar of his shirt. Their bodies colliding in the process.

He tapped away on his vambrace, the hull of his beloved ship starting to open. Distracted by the storm, Din was surprised by the sudden laser blast flying past him.

“Give me my father and I might just let you live”, a female voice spoke.

Within a second he whipped around, face to face with a small woman, a blaster in each hand. She wore a mask, hiding her face from him and goggles to guard her eyes from the sand.

“I’m not asking again, Mandalorian.”

“I’m afraid I don’t negotiate easily”, Din sighed, reaching for his own blaster, only to find it missing.

“I suggest you listen to my daughter.” The man spoke, blaster held in his cuffed hands. He must’ve apprehended it when they’d bumped into one another.

Din tried to assess the situation and its possible outcomes. He quickly wrapped his arm around the man’s throat, holding him in a threatening chokehold while hastily grabbing the blaster from his hands.

He mentally scolded himself for being so uncaring and distracted. He could clearly use a break as well.

The girl quickly fired at him, pulling him out of his own head, aiming for the weak spot between his helmet and right pauldron.

He stumbled back a bit, hissing at the burning flesh.

“Next one won’t miss”, the daughter threatened, taking a few confident strides in his direction.

Without hesitation he fired his blaster, barely missing the girl who moved at a surprisingly fast pace.

She pointed the blaster at him once again, but before she could pull the trigger, she fell down. Din hit the quarry in the head with his elbow, his unconscious form falling the ground.

“Cyar’ika..” Din started, looking at your trembling form, blaster still aimed at the woman.

“There’s no time, get them inside, storm’s getting worse.” You’d tried to sound confident despite the obvious shake in your voice.

Din was left alone, quickly dragging the bodies into the hull of the ship while you went to the ‘fresher. Locking the door you had to hold on to the metal counter to steady yourself. Your knuckles turned white with the intensity of your grip. The sound of your shallow breaths filled the small space, only causing you to panic even more.

Meanwhile, in the hull of the ship, the Mandalorian had put the bounty into the carbonite freezer. He then kneeled beside the woman’s body, carefully removing her coverings. He shook his head upon seeing her face, she was young, just a kid. Despite being seen as a cold killer, he hated this, he hated having to involve innocent people into other people’s messes.

As he went to stand again, he felt a dull ache in his shoulder and remembered the injury he’d sustained earlier. He quietly made his way over to the fresher, while cautiously removing his pauldron. He stopped dead in his tracks upon hearing your soft sobs.

“Are you hurt?”, his modulated voice was faint and low.

You gasped, quickly wiping your eyes and splashing your face with some water.

“N-no, I’m fine. Are you?” You slid the door open, and were met with a tilt of his helmet that you interpreted as nothing but concern for you.

“You did what you had to do, to protect me, us.”

Your shoulders started shaking at his words, sobs filling the silence. He was never good at this but wanted nothing more than to help you, so gently, he put his arms around you. His embrace was gentle and soft, almost as if you would break if he were to hold you any tighter.

The tears freely streamed down your cheeks now and fell onto the beskar, rolling down his chest plate as your body trembled.

He winced a little when you went to wrap your arms around his neck. Your eyes quickly found his visor. His heart ached when he saw your glassy eyes, which were otherwise so vibrant and full of life.

“Is she dead?”, you croaked out, never averting your gaze from the visor.

Din hesitantly held your hands in his, slowly nodding.

“A-are you injured?”, you asked trying to regain control over your emotions.

“It’s just a scratch, I can take care of it, you sho-“

“Let me help you, please,” you begged while extending your arms towards the med kit.

“You really don’t have to.” He spoke softly.

You forced a smile, guiding him back to the hull and froze upon seeing the body, the woman. Her face was bare, revealing a young girl, a teenager, a kid. Scoffing, you looked up at the ceiling in an attempt not to break out in tears again.

“Let’s get you patched up.”

 After you tended to Din’s wounds, the storm had passed. He suggested you throw the body out of the ship, but you insisted he wouldn’t. A loaded silence filled the cockpit ever since, until he prepared the ship to take off.

“Y/n, you need to process this, seeing her body will only make it harder.” He reiterated, trying to convince you to leave her behind once more.

“She deserves a proper burial, just get us to the outer rim of this hellhole”, with that you’d left him and the baby in the cockpit, disappearing into your cot.

As you went to lay down and close your eyes, sleep quickly settled in, the sheer exhaustion of the day finally catching up to you. The earlier events plagued you, the scene replaying over and over again. Except she screamed and cried for mercy in your nightmare, which made you jolt awake. Your hands rested over your eyes as you started to sob again. You never thought you’d have to shoot, let alone kill someone, but here you were, a murderer, not even strong enough to face the consequences of their own actions.

Din rushed to your side upon hearing your cries and screams.

“What happened?”, he removed your hands form your face, wanting you to look at him.

“How can you stand to even look at me…”, you spoke through gritted teeth, voice laced with self-hatred.

“You did what you-“

You shoved past him while interrupting: “No Din, that’s not what I meant. How can you stand to live your life with someone so weak and pathetic.”

“What do you mean?”, he questioned, grabbing a hold of your wrist to keep you from leaving the small cot.

“What good is a partner if they can’t even kill to save their life.”

“Stop it.”

“I mean it, you should’ve just left me back there to perish in the sand.”

“I said stop that.” He grabbed your jaw and made you face him. “For Maker’s sake, will you just shut that kriffing mouth of yours and listen for a second.”

Your eyes started brimming with tears again as you slowly nodded your head.

“If I wanted someone to help me with the bounties, I would’ve gotten someone from the guild. I didn’t hire an assassin and I don’t need you to be one either. You’re here because I want you to be. You’re here because I couldn’t stand to not have you with me. You’re here because you keep me grounded.”

You took a step towards him, tears threatening to spill.

“Din I-“

“I’m not finished. The way you care for the kid.. the way you make sure that I always have food and water, the way you take short showers so that I have hot water as well. The way you pick up after us, how you tend to our every need and desire. You made this ship into a home for the three of us, with your love and care. I don’t want you to be okay with what you did because you wouldn’t be the cyar’ika that I’ve grown to care about.”

He stumbled back when you practically hurled yourself into his arms. His gloves hands rested on your lower back as you stood in a comfortable silence, the only sounds being his frantic breathing. A modulated chuckle escaped his armour as he sensed you nuzzling into him.

“Thank you”, you whispered into the space between his helmet and shoulder.

“Close your eyes y/n.. let me kiss you”, he murmured, hands gripping onto you more tightly.

You hummed, doing as you were told and soon you heard the clang of beskar against the floor. Before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours. He wanted them to speak for him, afraid that his words would fall short in trying to describe the complete and utmost adoration he felt for and because of you. His movements were eager and desperate, the lack of touch and affection over the years encouraging him to kiss you even harder. Your teeth accidentally grazed his lip, which startled him a bit. This caused the both of you to break apart, his hand quickly coming up to cover your eyes, just as a precaution.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum”, he breathed, panting as his lips found yours once again.

You didn’t know what it meant, but you know that if he said it in Mando’a it must’ve been something he wasn’t ready to have you know just yet, but you didn’t mind, you had all the time in world.

[that-rock-chick]

Love Bites

Love sucks. That's pretty much common knowledge. Combine that with addiction, money, fame, and childhood trauma and you've got a recipe for disaster.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Same shit, different fucking day.

Don't ask me how I'm balancing six days a week at my job and band practice three to four days a week, because I truly have no fucking idea. I tried college but once the band formed, I cut that out of my schedule completely.

It's been about a months since the argument with Gwen and Tiffany went down and our band hasn't practiced. I tried to be sympathetic for the longest time, but it's beyond ridiculous now. Veronica, Tiffany, and I have been wanting to do band stuff but Gwen refuses because she's mad that Tiffany is dating a man SHE broke up with. It's not like Tiffany did it intentionally, and the fact that she's letting her own personal stuff interfere with our band is really pissing me off.

We've all got shit going on, but Gwen loves being a drama queen. Veronica has suggested kicking her out of the band a few times and Tiffany has echoed the same sentiment, but I don't think my patience has thinned to that extent just yet.

But it's getting there.

Young musicans aren't hard to come by, but finding someone who fits the band's sound as perfectly as Gwen's adds on a large layer of difficulty that I'm not prepared for. We'd have to start all over, teach our new singer the songs, establish chemistry...it seems exhausting and more trouble than it's worth, at least for the time being.

"Hey Julie." Dylan greeted me as I walked past, something he does whenever we work together. Sometimes it ends up being the best part of my day.

As the day progresses, I find myself smiling a lot more than I usually do. Customers are easier to deal with and a large amount of them were actually friendly. It created a light-hearted atmosphere in the restaurant that we don't get too often, unfortunately. The time seemed to fly by.

"Good luck Dylan." I said goodbye and walked out of the front door. Dylan was always there a hour before I arrived, and an hour before I left. The rest of the staff is pretty cool, but Dylan is the only one I'd consider to be a friend of mine. He's essentially the less musically inclined male version of me.

I head to our rehearsal space for the second time this week. I've extended the invitation to Gwen, as if she needs an invitation to show up to her own fucking band's rehearsal. If she doesn't show up tonight, she's out. Our time is just as important as hers and we're all tired of it being wasted.

I'm usually the first person to show up, but some days that isn't the case, like today.

"Hey." Gwen says shyly.

I give her a blank stare and proceeded to put my things down on a table nearby.

"Nice of you to finally decided to show up." I stated plainly.

"Look, I know I've missed a lot of practice and I totally understand the three of you being pissed at me, but can you please take one second to see this from my perspective?"

I couldn't help but scoff at what was coming out of Gwen's mouth. Has she seriously taken an objective look at the situation and came to the conclusion that she has a leg to stand on.

"Okay fine. You broke up with a guy, he moved onto Tiffany, you were so jealous that he wasn't falling you around like a lost puppy, and you took it out on Tiffany."

Gwen rolled her eyes but before she could speak, Tiffany and Veronica entered the room. Anger was written all over Tiffany's face, while Veronica seemed to be as cool as a cucumber.

That's one thing I've always liked about Veronica. She can keep her cool in some pretty tough situations. That's not all there is to like about her, though. She's utterly gorgeous. Her dark skin and hair that was almost always styled in an afro were truly beautiful features that I couldn't help but admire. She's beautiful, smart, talented, and has an amazing personality. She's the full package.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Tiffany wasted no time begining the screaming match we all knew was about to go down.

"We're in the same band." Gwen managed to maintain her regular tone of voice, but if I know Tiff like I think I do, and trust me, I do, she'll keep going until she sets Gwen off and then everything will go up in flames.

"Clearly the band hasn't been very high on your list of priorities for the past four weeks. Finally make time in your schedule for us, princess?" Tiffany was speaking with her genuine emotions, but part of her wanted to get a reaction out of Gwen. She knows how Gwen feels about being called "princess".

Gwen looks like she wants to say something to Tiffany that would no doubt escalate the situation even further, but she takes a deep breath and regains her composure.

"I'm sorry, okay? For everything. Julie was right, I should've maintained my professionalism above all else...and I shouldn't have put some guy over you and our friendship."

The three of us looked at Gwen semi-shocked. That girl never apologizes for anything. Instead of responding, Tiffany tells Veronica and I that she's stepping out for a smoke.

I'm not sure if we should discuss things further or let bygones be bygones, but it's not exactly my place to make that call.

Tiffany returns just as I finshed tuning my guitar and walked up to Gwen. If I didn't know Tiffany, I'd say she was going to punch Gwen in the face with the speed she was moving.

"That whole situation was fucked up, but I know how hard it is for you to apologize to people, so I forgive you." Tiffany pulls Gwen in for a hug and for the first time in awhile, things seem okay between the four of us.

"I would like to reiterate that Gwendolyn said I was right." I smiled proudly.

"Yeah, don't get used to hearing that from me."

It was nice while it lasted, at least.

Band practice turned out to be super productive, and it hasn't been that way in a long time. We got a lot of work done today and hopefully we can keep this up for awhile. We spent about 7 hours in our rehearsal space and it felt more like 5 minutes. Time really does fly when you're surrounded by positivity.

The girls and I said our goodbyes and parted ways for the night. Tiffany had mentioned that we haven't seen each other this past month like we usually do. Of course I feel bad about that, she's been my best friend for so long. But I've been spending a lot of time with the Guns N' Roses boys...Axl in particular can be a persuasive little shit when he wants to be. I've already told the guys that Tiffany's birthday is this weekend and they can't keep monopolizing my time. I need more feminine energy!

"Julie!" I hear someone call out. I recognize the voice as soon as it hits my ears.

"Hey Slash, what's up?"

Minus Izzy, I'm becoming pretty close with the members of Guns N' Roses. I just wish that man wasn't so goddamn illusive.

Slash and I walk and talk. Clearly he's decided we're hanging out tonight. I don't mind it much since Tiffany's going out with Victor tonight, Gwen is visiting her parents, and Veronica is doing god knows what, like always. So even if I wanted to make plans with someone, it's not like I had anyone else anyway.

"I don't think anyone's at the house, besides Izzy." From the way he phrased his sentence, it was a clear indication that Slash had no interest in staying at the "Hell House" with Izzy, he usually opted to spend his nights the same way he spent his days: completely wasted. It didn't matter if it was alcohol or heroin, if it got him high, he'd take it.

But this isn't about Slash. I want to see Izzy...I might have a slight obsession with a man who has never even said a single word to me, but I mean, he's absolutely gorgeous. There's something about him that keeps me drawn to him and I'm determined to figure out what it is. No matter how long it takes me.

"Then let's go to the house."

Before Slash can process what I said so he could say no, I grab him by the arm and run as fast as I possibly can while dragging a grown man behind me. It only takes about 15 seconds of running before I realized, Slash in tow or not, I'm very out of shape. I'm running out of breath, determined to get to the band's house. I'll be wheezing all the way down Sunset Boulevard and trying to convince myself it's worth it by the time we get there. But knowing me, it won't.

We enter the house and lo and behold...

Izzy isn't there. Despite me struggling to breathe, the look of defeat plasters my face and Slash starts laughing his ass off.

"Izzy's out working, I just wanted to see how you'd react. Sure didn't think you'd go runnin to our house, though." Slash manages to get out through his fit of hysterical laughter.

"Slash! Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because I know you like him. I got the confirmation I needed. Just wait until I tell Duff!" Slash heads for the stairs, but I grab his arm before he starts his ascent.

"You cannot tell Duff." I tell him seriously.

"He can't tell Duff what?" Duff appears from the kitchen

"And why are you out of breath? And why are you holding Slash's arm?"

"She totally likes Izzy, dude. I told her that he was here and she dragged me through the streets. We almost got hit by like, 5 cars."

My shocked face slowly twists into a look of confusion as Duff rolls his eyes, pulls out his wallet, and hands Slash a 20 dollar bill.

"Dude, you guys bet on whether I liked Izzy or not?" I was part shocked, part confused, and part mortified that my crush on Izzy was that obvious. Izzy seems like a smart man, so I couldn't stop thinking about the possibility of him knowing and not talking to me because I'm a weird chick who likes him without even knowing anything about him.

"Yeah, and now I'm out 20 bucks because you can't control your goddamn hormones." Duff says in mock frustration. I ignore his joke as the overthinking sets in further.

"Does...does he know?"

"Nah. The man's pretty oblivious, plus he doesn't pay much attention to anything except drugs, work, and music. It's fine." Duff reassures me.

Then Izzy walks in. The three of us get quiet when he shuts the door behind him. He looked at the guys then looks me up and down. He then looks back up at my face like he's done several times before, but this time he doesn't look away when our eyes meet, not immediately, at least. I feel my heart start beating a mile a minute at the momentary eye contact and feel myself longing for it again when it breaks.

He nods his head and walks up the stairs. I guess his first words to me will have to wait another day.

"What does Izzy do for work?" I ask, to no one in particular.

"He's a drug dealer." Duff replies nonchalantly.

I don't know how to respond to that, so I don't. Slash and Duff have their own conversation and I find myself wondering what kind of person Izzy is. I don't know what to think. All I know is he's a damn good musician, an equally gifted writer, and a drug dealer.

Who the hell is Izzy Stradlin?

[theplumsoldier]

the bystander is as bad as the bully

summary: you are a mutant and who knows for what reason donald broke you out of transigen, risking his job and life for your freedom. despite this one suspiciously nice act, you will make him face his soiled past—bring up his deepest insecurities and [now] most regretful past. if he did not hate himself before, he sure does now. part of a miniseries! pairing: donald pierce x reader word count: 3191 warnings: vulgar language, mentions of blood, angst, violence, unhealthy dealings with emotions.

How you had gotten yourself in this situation was beyond you. You sat in a chair in the apartment of the mutant-hunter who also had broken you out of Transigen approximately half an hour ago. Your eyes cautiously took in your surroundings, observing the life of an apparent minimalist. It was rather large, his apartment, albeit austere and seemingly having no personal touch. It was neat and looked as if he had he had only lived there for a very short amount of time. It made you wonder if Donald Pierce was a psychopath. But, of course, you can’t judge a person by their living arrangements. However, what it is appropriate to judge a person on, is their actions. And now, from where you stand, it appears to be a fact that Donald has kidnapped you.

Jumping in surprise, you were forced from your trance once Donald dropped a small box onto the dinner table, and you gulped, unsure what was next.

Back in captivity - not to say being held here was not the very same bar the scenery - you had been caned for speaking unless spoken to, so as the questions clouded your mind, you merely kept quiet for your own good. Because it is for your own good.

Meekly, you watched as Donald dragged another chair to sit before you and as he slumped down with a heavy breath, he wiped his forehead. His eyes avoided yours at every cost and his jaw clenched and arms flexed as he reached the box.

A ragged breath escaped you from the anticipation, and you were confused to see medical supplies. Your eyes flickered up to meet his, a deep crease between your brows and your blood-stained, quivering lips slightly parted. Was he going to take care of the wound oozing blood out of your thigh?

Donald was not bothered enough to give you a smart comment in retaliation to your glare. He was too exhausted. But he knew the gash in your leg needed help, or else he had rescued you from Transigen only to let you bleed out at his hand.

“Take off those pants.”

Your eyes shot up, whitening.

“What?” croaked you, no longer able to hold back your words.

Your voice was weak, hoarse, and it scraped in your throat as you spoke. The last time a sound had come out of you was a week ago, and it was screams from being tortured.

“Your pants. Take them off,” reiterated he, this time nodding your way.

But you sat completely still. Your head was foggy, it was as if your thoughts were not your own, just about everything in your body was hurting, except for your right leg which had gone numb due to the loss of blood. Above everything, you still could not piece together what you were doing in Donald Pierce’s home.

He sighed, scratching the stubble on his cheek. Then he looked up at you, eyes flashing a flinch of emotion. Something certainly never seen before.

“Do you want to die?” asked he plainly, swiping his tongue across his chapped lips. You shook your head tentatively, your eyes fixated on him with much concern. “So let me close your wound.”

But this was the man that had stood by, stern-faced, unbothered, and at times even spoken the order, as Reavers had beaten you for not obeying. Surely, he had never himself laid a hand on you, but you believed that was merely a question of exertion. Why would he get his fingers dirty when he had a whole crew of men perfectly willing? You had been temporarily disabled more times than you could count as a result of Donald Pierce’s rank.

A bone-tired moan emitted from him and as Donald shot up from his seat, his hands went to the back of his head. Pacing for a second, he turned to look down at your debilitated person.

“Jesus-fucking-christ. Y/N. I am not going to hurt you,” enunciated he, leaning forward. His imposing frame heaved up with every breath and you pushed back in your seat. “Not deliberately, at least. I didn’t break you out of the facility only to let you bleed out here, okay?”

A pregnant pause passed by and the longer you looked into his piercing eyes, the more you felt compelled to nod your head.

“So then we understand each other, yeah? I can’t take you to a hospital, so we’ll have to fix you up here. Will you let me fix you up, Y/N?”

Donald felt like he was talking to a child or someone who did not speak English. His patience was wearing thin, because he could not help but think Transigen soldiers would soon come-a-knocking. Not only had he given up his job for you, but he too had risked his life in the process. He had doubted it was even worth it before he finally had been reckless enough to save your life, but a force of something he had never felt before drove him past sanity. Now he very well might have been a mutant himself, being a traitor would undoubtedly be considered just as bad if not worse.

Your mouth opened to speak but then closed again. You looked down, your tired eyes staring at the makeshift tourniquet. Lifting your hands from the edge of the seat, you trailed down your shaking fingers to release it from its task.

Very good, thought Donald, exhaling and moved to sit before you again.

When you tentatively had dropped the tourniquet, you moved to your jeans. You felt weird exposing yourself like this, but even more odd was that you did not feel as uncomfortable revealing your bare legs under Donald’s sharp gaze. He was concentrated on the gash cutting open your thigh, and to be fair you were growing exceedingly tired, your eyelids feeling heavier than ever, but that was just a result of the bloodloss. You could not give up now. Even if you did give in to the inviting deep sleep that hovered over you, Donald would not let you.

"Here," murmured Donald, bowing down to tuck at the ends of your jeans, pulling them off of you.

Weeks worth of small hairs created a pattern of blood as it trickled downward, captivity evident on your appearance. You had only been allowed showers whenever they had finished experimenting on you. Turns out even an anti-mutant organization such as themselves had certain regulations when it came to hygiene.

You hissed when the coagulated stain of rough material grazed the wound and instinctively pulled at your leg, only making it worse.

"Sorry. Sorry," mumbled Donald, giving you a reassuring gaze as he held back his hands. "I won't hurt you. Okay? I'm not gonna hurt you again."

Again.

Even at times where it had not been him two pull the trigger, to give the order; he had kept quiet and observant. You were not quite sure if he was saying "sorry" for you getting shot, or because he had let the torture go on for so long, or if there was something entirely different burden weighing him down - which, to be fair, you would not be surprised with should it be true - but Donald's left hand shook ever so lightly. You let him continue to clean up the smeared blood for although this man had contributed to your pain, you could see it in his eye he wore the guilt the rest did not dare face. He had all the reason to, of course, for, after all, the bystander is as bad as the bully.

After cleaning the wounded area up, Donald proceeded to search through the toolbox. Inspecting the laceration, his hand touched your thigh ever so cautiously, treating the skin like it was the most delicate porcelain.

"Looks like it was jus' a through-and-through. Lucky, but you'll need stitches."

"Lucky..." enunciated you in a whisper, your eyebrows knotting together and you were certain your heavy eyes were twitching but candidly you could not tell for you felt numb just then. Even the burning sting in your thigh seemed to fade and as you stared vacuously at Donald the word repeated itself in your head with seething spite. Lucky.

At a loss, you watched him work the thread through the needle. Even when he made the gesture to close up the wound, you were not fazed.

"I am lucky?"

The purest of venom.

That had to be a joke. Right?

Through his eyelashes, Donald looked at you, not giving it a second thought as he tried to concentrate.

"Could have been worse," mumbled he, going for the first stitch.

A disgusted laugh escaped you, unable to believe what he was saying.

"I was held captive for—fuck, I don't even know how long! I was tortured by you people, experimented on, drained, barely fed, isolated, and forced to undergo surgery three times just because that fucking doctor wanted to know how much I could withstand! And you tell me, that I was lucky?"

Now he understood you did not care you had been hurt as a consequence of him getting you out. The thing was, he had not saved you. He had merely made himself your captor instead of one of Transigen. But he was a Reaver at Transigen and now you are at his house. Who was to say he would treat you any differently? Through your eyes one captor is the same as the other; it does not matter as long as you are deprived of your freedom.

Your words got through to him, clearly, but he simply cleared his throat and shifted the way he kneeled before you, trying to get the bleeding under control while he tended to the injury.

"I didn't ask to be like this! The same you are you, I am me! I have done nothing wrong! And you try to play God by wiping out a whole new generation so you can—what? "Reclaim" your home?"

"Sit still."

"You can't change nature! Nature is the change and my people were just the first generation to play role in evolution! I don't know what made you this belligerent jingoist, but whatever fucked up childhood you suffered—that is no reason to be scared—"

"I ain't scared of a thing, okay? Now I didn't save you just to let you die, so how 'bout—"

"Save me?"

Pierce denied he merely relocated you from one captive situation to another. If he wanted to save you, he should have brought you somewhere you could get the medical help you needed and be safe. Granted, he was now, on his knees stitching you up, but nevertheless, he had made it abundantly clear you were going nowhere without him.

"You moved me from one shitty situation to another, you dipshit! What makes you any better than your people? All this time you watched me get tortured! You stood by the doctor's side, insensitive while I screamed and cried for them to stop! Doing nothing is not better than the ones doing the harm!"

Donald tried his best to keep his cool. But he had a lot on his mind. Fair enough, he thought, you cannot be grateful for a mutant-hunter to save you from your captor, but it took him a lot of courage to free you from Transigen.

He had tirelessly spent his nights planning your escape, at long last apprehending the iniquity of his actions and coming to terms with not only giving up his job but too becoming a deserter of a powerful and well-connected organization.

"You should have just left me there. That way they wouldn't be after you, anyway."

"I get it! Okay? Just... Sit still 'n let me fix this shit, yeah?"

Your glare remained, intent but you had no fight left in you.

And as much as you did not want to, you were beginning to think he was no longer in denial of holding you captive. But what was he to do? Let you go? You would never make it out of Mexico City without his help—hell, Donald was not even sure you guys would make it out of the city before Transigen tracked you down.

After all, he had never had a reason to hide a thing for Transigen. He had only ever been loyal to his job and crew so now that his moral-compass had grown overnight, he had not had the time to plan anything before he saw Doctor Rice taking it too far. Surely he had planned the escape for some time now, but he decided to commence the mission weeks before it was safe to get you out. Now, shit he was not too sure either of you would be safe for long. That was why he prioritized getting you patched up before attempting fleeing the country.

The next time the needle pierced your skin, you felt every bit of pain.

This time you let him work on you, staring intently at him as he did. When he was finished, he leaned down to your thigh to bite over the thread.

Pierce looked up at you.

"There. You should get some sleep. I'm gonna make the arrangements so we can leave in a couple hours."

You shook your head with great exhaust. No matter how you tried to envisage the two of you on the run, you could not. Was he really counting on the two of you now being partners? Fugitives on the run from an anti-mutant organization. With a mutant-hunter.

Donald stood back up and offered his hand to lighten the pressure on your leg. Tentatively, you held onto him and let him pull you up. This was the first time you had touched his bionic hand. At Transigen you used to believe it would only ever touch you to scar. But this was gentle. A careful gesture of kindness from a man seeming the opposite. You could not possibly believe that this man had ever been described as kind, but here he was, and although you suspected the various reasons behind his actions, he had successfully freed you from the grasp of Transigen.

However ungrateful you may appear, you could not be thankful until you were free, with your own kind. Besides, how can one be ungrateful to their captor?

Then you realized if he would not let you go on your own, perhaps you should try your luck. You could not possibly return to your friends with a mutant-hunter at your tail. For all you knew, this was merely an act of that very same mutant-hunter who contributed to your torment all those weeks, to lure him to your friends and family.

"Aren't you going to sleep?"

Donald cast a glance over his shoulder before he reached down to collect something from under the couch. A briefcase. But when he opened it, a workstation was hidden inside. A satellite computer.

"Not if we're going to survive."

You could not quite make out if he was genuine about the fact that he too was in trouble, or if Pierce was on his way to an Academy Award.

"You can go sleep in the bedroom, I'll be in here sorting things out."

You looked to where he nodded. Swallowing the cry in your throat, you shifted your weight. You were really not comfortable sleeping in his bed. However, if you picked the couch, you would not be able to snoop around, searching for possible weapons or plan much of an escape. Your head was a jumble of ambivalent thought, still not fully assimilated with whether or not Donald was indeed in this with you.

Gulping, you hesitantly moved to the bedroom, vigilantly stepping inside. The bedroom was as clean as the rest of the apartment; no personal photographs, ostensibly no possessions of value, emotional or otherwise. You looked back to Pierce and were sure you caught him looking out the corner of his eyes, but his gaze returned to the computer, typing rapidly.

Closing the door behind you, you exhaled. You had not even noticed that you had been so tense, but only as you leaned back against the white door, you felt your body slump with lassitude. The walls were white, so was the ceiling, the bedside table, too, as well as the bedspread. The curtains were black and drawn. If he was no psychopath, he certainly seemed to be the kind of guy to hide arms under his pillow. You went to check.

Nothing. Shit. Fucking shit!

Your breathing came out unsteady, ragged, and scraping in your throat the same way it did when a panic attack would surprise you. This was no time.

Lying on the bed, trying your best to stay calm, you put your hands over your head, crying out. In out, in, out, in and out.

When you finally had managed to collect yourself, and perhaps even gotten just a tad bit shut-eye - for at some point you remember waking up, although with no recollection of greeting slumber - you felt the need to inspect his room for any other weapons. You could not imagine a professional mutant-hunter not being loaded with artillery. If you had no choice but to let him take you wherever - hopefully, that was, as he vehemently asserted out of this damned country - you figured you, even if only for precaution, a gun might very well come in handy.

While you methodically scoured every inch of the room, you feared you might not have been too hushed as you had believed for suddenly the door was flung open.

Gun in hand, hard bearing, and piercing eyes, Pierce stood in the doorway, ready to shoot if necessary.

You had been so accustomed to surrender at this point, you did not think twice before your hands were raised to head-level.

He had many times seen fragile mutants, begging for their lives, all the same begging for him to end it, but the expression on your face just now hurt him. This was his fault.

Howbeit, he like any man in denial repressed emotion when feeling a hint of arcane feelings. Donald was experiencing those exact feelings and he did not like what he did not understand. Masking the unknown into anger, he propped the gun back into his belt and looked majestically wroth.

“Please don’t do anything to upset me. The mess wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

Slowly, your hands fell parallel to your body, and you leaned against the bookcase for support.

Donald easily justified your expression of anxiety. But he would not have shot you. Even if you did try to escape. The hunter merely comprehended the facts of a fugitive and the two of you were just that; he was ready to take down whoever dared break into his hideout, but if you believing him inclined to shoot you hindered you from absconding; he could live with that. However much it hurt him, he could. At least until your safety was assured.

"I was just—"

"Don't matter. We’re leaving."