#so had wee little panic attack - it had been months since the last one actually which is fantastic!

[fairybumpkin]

ooo grindr is scary but i'm proud of myself for trying

[peachy-panic]

Only Temporary: Sebastian Tate

Hello. I was completely blown away by the positive response I got on the first piece of Jaime’s story (title under construction). Thank you to everyone who had a kind word to say about it! You made me really happy I made the mildly frightening choice to post.

In the interest of acclimating to the no-rules, freedom-to-post-out-of-order structure of this community, I wanted to introduce a new piece of the puzzle this time, with a new character that will come into play later.

Also, this piece goes into a little bit of the details, but for frame of reference on the BBU-adjacent thing: this story takes place in a not-so-distant future of the BBU, where WRU has undergone some changes. I look forward to exploring this world building more as I go.

Anyway, I’m rambling again. Thanks for reading. Here it is:

WARNINGS: General BBU warnings, talk of institutionalized slavery, classism, and general terribleness of large corporations. Referenced past homophobia and rough parental relationships, briefly implied/referenced non-con.

When Sebastian reflects on the day he graduated from med school, a sort of emptiness is the memory that first bobs to the surface. Among the cheers and camera flashes in the crowd, white coats and proud smiles, what Sebastian recalls most vividly from that day is looking out into the sea of parents and families and people there to support their loved ones on one of the biggest days of their lives, and not seeing a single person that had come for him.

What should have been one of the happiest moments of his life had been quickly overshadowed by the sinking feeling that none of it mattered as much as it would have if he had someone to share it with. Like there was something so fundamentally wrong with his life, that even something as objectively good and right and decent as becoming a doctor could be dulled over into a feeling of nothingness.

Perhaps, he thinks in hindsight, that moment had been foreshadowing for the following months ahead of him.

Watching rejection after rejection pour in from his top residency programs had felt like nothing short of his own personalized nightmare. He had spent several nights in a row on the phone with Alex, his undergrad roommate and only friend, clamoring back from the edge of many a panic attack, spiraling into all-out existential dread about the future and the past and what all of it meant for him if he couldn’t land an internship, let alone a real job out of school. To his credit, Alex never gave up hope in his friend. Or at least, he did a decent job hiding it if he did. Which was probably exactly what Sebastian needed to get through that particularly dark time in his life, and a good reminder of what a solid friend he had. Even if it was a party of two.

Unfortunately, Sebastian did not have the same faith in himself.

He was able to keep up some facade of optimism as his top five were picked off one by one. Telling himself, despite his devastation, that they were a pretty far reach, anyway. Even with good academic standing, it was famously no walk in the park to land yourself at John Hopkins or Mayo as a first-year. He even maintained a brave face as his first few safety programs reached capacity and moved forward without his name on the roster.

It wasn’t until he received his final rejection letter from some internal medicine place in Bumfuck, Idaho that he felt himself slip into dangerous territory. Sebastian knew himself well enough to know his own depressive patterns by then, and he knew it was only exponential decay from there.

Rock bottom came, as it did, in the wee hours of the night, after a full bottle of wine. Alone in his small apartment, surrounded by half-packed boxes with no destination, Sebastian found himself sprawled out on the floor with his laptop hot against his thighs. He couldn’t have explained why he opted for a privacy browser, but something about it allowed him to justify the words that he typed into the search bar.

It was a new low, and one he had sworn to himself he would never stoop to. Yet there he was.

He gave himself a moment to reconsider, to back out of what was undoubtedly a morally-gray train wreck waiting to happen as his thumb hovered over the enter key. And then the alcohol decided to override his moral compass.

Facility Care is the open secret of the medical profession. It comes with its fair share of stigma, and rightfully so, but it is notoriously easy to break into and pays a decent wage.

There are two types of people who end up stooping to that kind of employment. More often than not, it consists of doctors and nurses who had their licenses revoked or suspended somewhere along the line and needed a way back in. As far as Sebastian understood, they aren’t terribly ridgid about the particulars of each circumstance. After all, in the eyes of the law, the patients they would be treating are a price tag away from being entirely expendable.

The other percentage of Facility Care workers, and the reason Sebastian found himself staring at his too-bright computer screen with a sinking feeling of dread that night, are young medical graduates who find themselves in a tough spot. It isn’t difficult to spell out the logic behind that one when you open the WRU CAREERS tab on the home page and see the bright white words printed across the top of the screen:

LOAN FORGIVENESS.

It is shamelessly predatory and aggressively capitalistic, but Sebastian supposes that particular exploitation is pretty far down on the list of transgressions for an institution of legalized slavery. A few broke and hopeless medical students were hardly going to keep the Powers That Be up at night when they were able to rest easy under the weight of hundreds of thousands of stolen lives.

The whole thing is part of the massive PR overhaul the company did a few years back. In a world that was slowly inching toward civil activism and with the accessibility of platforms like social media to hold them accountable, WRU had to adapt to survive. Adaptation, in this case, took the form of changing the barest of minimums in order to keep themselves above board — to the public eye, anyway. Anyone who dares to take a closer look at the policy changes can see that it’s bullshit.

Changing ownership conditions to a rent-by-contract basis isn’t the humanitarian move they try to paint it as. In the end, it probably just equals out to more money in the company’s pocket when they can get more return on their “investments,” and a larger chance of exploitation for the people being moved around.

Getting rid of the Romantic division is an entirely meaningless gesture when they are still loaning out human beings with no legal rights and the inability to say “no.”

And offering an open job market with good wages and healthcare options to lower class individuals is a pretty convenient way to mute the backlash.

Essentially, you can tie a system of slavery and abuse up in a bow and make it pretty on the outside, but at the end of the day, it’s still fucking slavery.

Not that he has any room to criticize now. Now that he’s one of them.

In the end, Seb tries to justify his decision a few different ways. He is, after all, more or less a young man alone in the world. The odds are stacked against him and have been for a while. With only his own two legs to stand on, the only force stronger than his internal ambition is his instinct for survival, and he’s been running on those fumes for longer than he can count.

He had lasted less than two months under his parents’ roof after he came out of the closet at eighteen. It wasn’t exactly a surprise for anyone involved; Sebastian’s parents had known about (and subsequently bottled) his… urges… since he was in high school. Probably before that, if he is being honest with himself. And Sebastian, for his part, had spent the better part of his teenage years mentally preparing for the inevitable. He can recall long, late nights he had spent crying into his pillow and the perfectly-scripted ‘coming out’ speeches he recited to his mirror when he was one-hundred percent sure his parents were asleep.

Of course, none of the preparation had been anywhere near adequate when he actually found himself wilting beneath the heat of his father’s glare, the weight of his mother’s grief.

But. He had recovered. That is the point he tries to remember when the memories sting fresh beneath his skin, even all these years later. He has more-than proven himself to be a survivor. He has worked harder than anyone he knows for every scholarship, every grant, every dollar to put himself through school. Sacrificed nights out and real relationships for night shifts at shitty diners and long weekends cramming for exams. It hadn’t been easy, but he considers it the price he had to pay for his independence. For freedom, to live the life as the person he is meant to be, despite his unfortunate odds. He spent years telling himself it would be worth it. That one day, his hard work would pay off.

He can’t stop now.

Sebastian doesn’t have the luxury of taking time off to reroute when his navigation has gone amiss. He is walking the precarious line of rapidly accruing interest and student loans and a dwindling savings account, and there is no safety net below him.

Beggars can’t be choosers, and as it turns out, beggars sometimes have to compromise their moral integrity in order to survive.

It’s only temporary.

That is the mantra that gets him through the (half-drunken) application process and the (disturbingly lax) interview process. It is a job. One job. In the medical field, though the details are up for debate, and it is real-life money for rent and food and a savings that will hopefully be sizable enough to get him where he really wanted to be. Which is… really, anywhere else.

He can do ‘temporary.’ And perhaps, some misguided part of him thinks he can do some genuine good from the inside, too. ‘Be the change you want to see’ and all that.

It is a far jump from the floor of his apartment, sloshed and exhausted and desperate, to the cold, sharp reality of walking into his place of employment on his first day of work. Ironically, it feels a lot like an echo of the emptiness from his graduation day.

‘Sterile’ doesn’t quite cover it. ‘Sterile’ is the expectation of any well-respected medical establishment, but the inside of the facility walls has been wiped clean of far more than bacteria and germs. It is completely devoid of humanity. The long corridors that connect the medical wing to the general ward are windowless and dimly lit by flickering fluorescent panels that had make his head pound for the entirety of his first week.

He is given an office, though it is a term he, himself, might use loosely, as it is more akin to what was probably a storage closet before the old prison had been converted into the state’s training headquarters. It leaves him just enough space for a small desk and two chairs. On his first day, he asks if it is okay to bring in some personal items to spruce the place up. The older, balding doctor who had been assigned to show him around merely shrugs, and Sebastian decides to take that as a yes.

The small, pink-framed photo of a six-year-old Sebastian Tate in his grandfather’s white coat and an old-school stethoscope around his neck is hardly enough to make the place cozy from the corner of his desk, but it’s a good enough reminder of why he has to make this work.

‘It’s only temporary.’

‘Be the change you want to see.’

He will do his best.

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Auxilium (College!Xiao x College!Reader)

TW: mentions blood, depression, anxiety

note: it's my first time writing and posting something on tumblr so im sorry if it's bad!! reader is gn hehe.

Late February was never a good time for Xiao.

It was the second month of the year; People were starting to adjust and adapt to the ever-changing and progressing timeline. Although, he never really understood the concept of the "New year, new me!" shtick. Humans make decisions that eventually shape their personalities. What does a new year have anything to do with that? Does a change in the year automatically make you a good person? Does it make you less of an asshole than you might already be? He never really understood.

He found it rather silly, actually. Whenever a new year rolls around, Xiao would mutter silent curses to himself because he'd write the wrong year on his papers. Other than that, there wasn't any significant changes he made in his daily routine. He was still the same Xiao; The same anxious, mildly depressed, and coffee-high art major Xiao.

Now, Xiao was a respected figure in their college (or at least, that's what he was told). He was one of the most talented artists at Tokyo University, and professors have been eyeing him for a scholarship overseas (he, along with his brooding and mysterious senior, Diluc). His keen eye for details always produce great results as most of his portraits are featured in the university's gallery of students' greatest works. Not to mention, one of his larger canvas works were displayed at the Tokyo Museum, making him one of the youngest artists to have their art showcased there.

Admittedly, Xiao was aware of how people admired his talent. Unfortunately, due to a rough childhood where his parents barely showed him any love and affection, he had trouble reflecting his true emotions onto other people. That's why other art majors often labelled him as a self-absorbed, egotistical prick.

Xiao was the last person you'd want to compliment. It's not that he'd be a dick about it or that he'd scowl at you and act as if he was better than you in every way possible. It wasn't like that at all. It's simply because Xiao doesn't know how to handle compliments. He'll still keep his stoic face, lips pressed in a straight line, but deep inside, he'd be flustered to bits. He'd try to internalize his reply, stitching together the right words to express his gratitude, but it would always take him a few minutes. The person who complimented him would've already left after he finally constructed the sentence in his head. Not that he wasn't used to it

This led to Xiao earning his current reputation, as stated earlier. He was already expecting the rest of his college years to be spent alone in his studio, working on his artworks during the wee hours of the night, high on the fumes of his paint palette and his exhausted coffee machine.

Until you came.

Kaoru was... eccentric. You were loud, you were moody. He felt like you'd be the type of person he'd hate dealing with just because you was unpredictable. You were like the rain, and Xiao hated the rain.

He must have an Archon's cursed tongue, because he got paired up with you during the first semester of their second year in college. You were a familiar name to him, as you were in the same course since the first year, but he barely knew anything about you since you were in different classes.

"Hey, Xiao! I'm _____. I hope we can be good friends by the end of the semester!" His memory of your bright smile still remains vivid in his head. He wasn't really a brooding type like Diluc, but Xiao liked to believed that he presented himself as a silent person who had no intentions of interacting with other people. So, how were you so bubbly around him? Because she was forced to do so? You were to be his partner for the whole semester, after all. Maybe it was all formalities. Yeah, that's probably it.

"Hm." Xiao gave a nod in her direction, acknowledging your existence. you heard from your friends that the young artist didn't have a pleasing personality, but you weren't expecting to be shutdown from the get-go.

"Mind if I sit beside you?"

Again, a light nod.

You felt the awkward tension between you and Xiao, and you hated it. You were a person who hated it when people are uncomfortable in your presence. You didn't want to be a bother, and you did your best to make everyone like you. Not that you were a people pleaser, nor an attention hog, but you just wanted to get along with everyone.

The lecture was going to begin in twenty minutes, so the lecture hall was yet to be filled with people. You took the opportunity to strike up a conversation with the amber eyed man beside you, who was typing away on his laptop. Something about color theory and how it affects the perspective of people on different art types? You couldn't really see that well. He was a fast typer.

"So, Xiao, I heard that your painting was displayed in the Tokyo Museum last year. It must have been an honor. I was at the unveiling last year and I saw it up-close." You started off, testing the waters.

"And what did you think of it?" Xiao cringed internally. He meant to genuinely ask for your feedback regarding his art, but it sounded so harsh that he wanted to punch himself when he saw you wince (or maybe you shuddered because it was cold and you were wearing a sleeveless top? His nerves were getting the better of him at this point).

"Well, a lot of my friends told me that it wasn't anything special,"

Ouch.

"It was a large canvas. I can still remember how it looks. But, maybe that's because I'm at the museum every two weeks," You laughed. You noticed how Xiao's breathing noticeably changed after you started your sentence, and you have to admit that it sounded a bit too mean.

"You know, Xiao. My friends told me that your art was simple. Anyone could have done it. But honestly, they couldn't be more wrong. I love how your piece was painted. Auxilium. I'll never forget what you called it. That's... Help, right?"

At first, Xiao didn't want to listen to this person ramble about an art piece he made during one of the lowest points of his life.

His anti-depressants had run out during that one Christmas. It was 2:47 in the morning. He had morning classes the following day. He had a project to submit, but he was unable to continue working because of the unbearable pain in his chest. His head was throbbing. Voices were invading his mind. Flashbacks of his parents' negligence taunted him. He rushed to grab a glass of water, chugging it down in almost three chugs. He slammed the glass back onto the counter, smashing it into tiny little splinters and cutting himself in the process. His hand was bleeding, there were bits of glass on his counter and on his floor, but he couldn't care less. He was heaving, his breathing was unsteady, he wanted to die right then and there. His vision became blurry, but he rushed back to his studio.

With a bleeding hand, he picked up his brush and began to tear into his canvas. Not literally, but he started to create strokes onto the blank canvas. Different colors, different textures (he swore some of his blood got blended in with the area where he painted the sunrise, but it's fine. No one was going to notice, right?). He screamed and cried, wanting to throw the entire easel out his window.

It was Christmas. He was alone in his apartment. His anti-depressants ran out. He was having a panic attack.

That night led him to having one of the worst breakdowns he could remember, but he also ended up with a gorgeous painting that nabbed him a place in the Tokyo Museum.

"Help," Your voice echoed in his ears, snapping him out of his trance.

"People can tell me that it's nothing more than a simple painting, but the way that the sunrise was only showing in a segmented part of the canvas? The way that there were hints of red? It kind of reminded me how a new day can resemble hope but still contain hurt. Like, the promise of a fresh start isn't guaranteed a good one, right?"

Your words rang in his ears like a gong being hit continuously. He wanted to cry. People always complimented him and congratulated him about being recognized by art critics and national museums, but none of them ever really stopped to talk to him about his art. They were there for his recognition- not his work.

"I mean, you could begin with a fresh start, but wouldn't the remnants of yesterday still take a toll on your tomorrow?"

"Hm. Interesting take. To be honest, those specks could have been my blood." Xiao spoke up, to your surprise. A small smile formed on your face. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all.

"My hand was cut up when I was painting that," He added quietly, not mentioning why his hand was in that state. "I think I accidentally added too much concentrated red. I couldn't blend it out the way I originally planned."

"Oh? But that makes it all the more great, though!" You beamed, "Maybe it was an Archon guiding you? I don't really believe in that stuff, but acknowledging some divine intervention once in a while can't be all bad, no?" You laughed.

"I guess you're right." For the first time in a while, Xiao actually gave someone else a small smile. It wasn't really a smile per se, but his lips curved even the slightest bit upward, and you decided that it was a win for you.

-

Fast forward to the second semester of their third year.

Late February was never a good time for Xiao.

It was the second month of the year; People were starting to adjust and adapt to the ever-changing and progressing timeline. Although, he never really understood the concept of the "New year, new me!" shtick.

It had been years since he was clinically-diagnosed with mild depression. So, why was he still that way? Shouldn't new years help him be a better person? Or something like that. Why was he still like this?

Late February meant the end of one semester, and the start of another.

What else did that mean?

His semestral feedback report (he refused to call it a report card. What was he, high school?).

"Xiao? Are you here? I bought almond tofu from Xiangling's place. Sorry for barging in, you weren't answering my calls." He heard your voice from the kitchen and he glanced at the clock on his studio's wall.

1:37 AM.

You were at Xiangling's place because you were working on a report about the history of acrylic paints or whatever it was. You were supposed to go home, but you still dropped by his apartment. He checked his phone.

[ 14 missed calls. ]

Yikes.

"I'm here." He answered meekly, but loud enough for you to hear. He felt tired. Defeated, maybe. He was blankly staring at the canvas in front of him. He has sketched the base of your face and upper body. He was planning on painting a portrait of his beloved to decorate his room with, but he couldn't find the energy to continue.

He could hear the soft "thud"s of your feet walking from the kitchen towards the studio, but he tuned it out with an annoying static he could only hear in his head.

Fuck. Where are they?

He rushed to the drawer next to his easels and rummaged around in a panic.

Where the fuck are they?

He kept a few anti-depressants in his studio because he spends most of his time here and he didn't have time to rush to the kitchen to get them if he ever got a panic attack.

"Fuck!" He cursed loudly, throwing the contents of his desk onto the floor. Some of his paintbrushes scattered on the wooden floor of his studio, marking the wood various colors. Maybe they're going to stain, but he didn't really care.

Xiao heard the footsteps retreating until he couldn't hear anything else except the constant ringing in his ears. It was annoying. It was loud. It started to make him want to split his head open.

"_____," He whispered, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten. The passageways helping him breathe seemed to close themselves, giving him a hard time and mocking him. It was coming back again.

Tears started to flood his vision, and they rolled down his red cheeks. He took the ponytail out of his hair and used two hands to tug at his locks starting from the roots. His breathing patterns became more erratic, but he tried his best to stay calm.

His knees and legs felt like jelly. He had to lean against the desk to avoid from toppling over.

Why? Why again? Why now? Why when you were here?

He screamed. It was loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but his care for any external entities was out the window the moment his eyes became blurry with tears.

Even though he was leaning against the desk, his legs still couldn't hold the weight of his entire body. His knees dropped to the floor, and he swore he must've dented the wood below, but he paid no mind to it. His knees were also aching, but he could deal with that later. He bent down and pressed his forehead to the floor.

"_____," He whispered again, longing for his partner. "Auxilium."

"Xiao?" The voice was muffled. His eyes were glued to the floor in front of him, but he knew it was you.

"Xiao, stay with me, honey." There was a hint of panic evident in your voice, but he was glad that you didn't let that get the best of you. You was still somewhat calm.

You kneeled down beside him, helping him back to an upright position.

"Honey, you left these on the counter outside." You handed him two tablets of his anti-depressants, and he gladly placed them in his mouth. You also gave him a glass of water, and he downed it in two swift gulps. Afraid that he might underestimate his strength, he returned the glass back to you instead of setting it down himself, nodding at you in the process.

You got into a more comfortable position where you rested your back against the wall, and you guided Xiao to follow you. It was a difficult task; He was very sensitive during his panic attacks.

His semestral feedback reports always made him anxious. He didn't have to please his parents anymore since he moved out years ago, but Xiao had this nagging feeling inside of him to do better with his academics. Nobody was really pressuring him to be a straight-A student, but did he feel like he needed to be? Who was he trying to prove himself to anyway? You knew about his sever panic attacks and how they were more active if he had a big event coming up. The first time you had to deal with it, you were still stiff and trying to learn how you could help. Now, you takes pride in yourself for being able to handle him in the ways you know would help him the most.

"Here you go, I've got you." You cooed, assisting him with moving. You laid his head flat on her lap and she began stroking his beautiful, tousled forest green locks. The highlights he had under the first layer of his hair started to fade, and you made a mental note to take him to a salon so they could get their highlights redone.

"You know, I've been listening to a lot of Coldplay lately," You started speaking, as if Xiao wasn't about to have a full-on panic attack. "Yellow would have to be one of my favorite songs. I guess it's kinda cheesy, but can you blame me?"

You used your free hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"Look at the stars, look how they shine for you." You began singing, voice just above a whisper.

"And everything you do. Yeah, they were all yellow."

Xiao was a reserved person who had a hard time dealing with other people because of his inferiority complex that sprouted when he was young.

"I came along, I wrote a song for you."

He didn't have love and affection growing up. He didn't know how to be the best person to talk to. He had poor communication skills. He was a mess, to be honest.

"And all the things you do. And it was called yellow."

You were the first person who looked past his rough and tough exterior. You were the person who showed interest not just in his name- but in him as a whole.

"So when I took my turn, what a thing to've done."

"Thank you," He murmured silently, noticing that the ringing in his ears vanished. His throat was beginning to open again, and he could finally feel the steady heartbeat he had in his chest.

"And it was all yellow."

Xiao curled himself into a ball, burying his face in your clothed stomach. You smelled a bit like smoke (maybe you ate yakiniku at Xiangling's?) and your faded cologne. It smelled like home. It washed a sense of relief over his entire being. He felt safe. He felt secure. He was being held like a child, but he didn't really mind. Maybe he needed this.

"Your skin. Oh yeah, your skin and bones,"

You craned your neck downwards to look at Xiao's figure. He finally looked peaceful. You knew about his rough past. You knew about the trauma he had to go through, but you chose to look past it because you knew that he was just afraid and... alone. He needed someone to be there for him, and you would rather the world die than leave him alone ever again.

"Turn into something beautiful."

You noticed how his chest started a rhythmic pattern of ups and downs. His breathing was finally steady. He looked at peace. He looked like he was right at home.

"Do you know? You know I love you so."

You couldn't help but chuckle as you watched him sleep in your lap. How could anyone think that this softie was an asshole?

"You know I love you so."

You barely whispered the last part of the song, but it was loud enough for his heart to hear it. Xiao hated when things were unpredictable; that's why he hated the rain. But now, maybe the idea of rain wasn't so bad. Especially since you were his rain.

"I love you, Xiao."

At that moment, you knew that the involuntary smile on Xiao's face was a response that contained more emotions than his words could ever bear.

"I love you too."

[jalapeno-princess]

More Than Friends

(I was gonna say he looks so good in here but who am I kidding, he always looks so fucking good)

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst (but mainly fluff I can’t write angst to save my life)

Word Count: 5K

Summary: You and Mark have a very interesting relationship. The two of you are not exactly dating, but you’re not just friends either. Because of who he is, he isn’t able to take things further in your relationship no matter how badly he wants to. However, something causes him to feel the need to put a label on what exactly is going on between you both.

A/N: (It’s kind of repetitive lol idk how I feel about this story) This was requested by another one of my favorite followers on here @safetypineapples Thank you for all your love and support with my stories and I love reading all of yours! I hope you enjoy this one! Based on the song “At my weakest” by James Arthur.

It's a long night and a big crowd Under these lights looking 'round for you Yeah, I'm steppin' outside under moonlight To get my head right, lookin' out for you, yeah

Could it be your eyes Didn't know that I've been Waitin', waitin' for you When your by my side, everything's alright Crazy, I'm crazy for youOh, here I go, down that road Again and again the fool rushin' in But I can't help when I feel some kind of way Do you feel the same? 'Cause And I fall, I fall for you You caught me at my weakest And I fall for you

“Pick up—fuck—please pick up.” 

Mark was pacing back and forth in the hallway; he must’ve looked like a crazy person to all the staff and security guards at the event, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t too sure why it was happening, especially because he was right about to go on stage, but he was currently going through a panic attack. Just a couple of minutes ago, he was sitting in the dressing room with Yugyeom and Jinyoung, waiting for the rest of the guys to finish getting their makeup and hair done. He was playing a couple of games on his phone when he decided to scroll on Instagram and Twitter for a little while when he stumbled across of a few negative posts that crawled under his skin. 

Being a KPOP idol had its perks; he got to do what he loved, making music, writing songs, touring and traveling around the world, meeting new people and learning of their cultures and getting to perform on stage in front of thousands of their fans alongside his six best friends. Unfortunately, pros also came with cons. With the large amount of love he received all around the world, he also got a lot of unnecessary hate. He never understood what he did to be hated so much. 

Mark was a very kind-hearted, soft-spoken, generous, humble and hardworking person. Sure, he might not have been the best rapper in KPOP, but he gave his all in each and every one of his performances, practices, recording sessions and even when it didn’t have to do with the music; whether it was modeling or being on a reality tv show, he made sure to try his best in order to please everyone he was around. That’s all Mark really wanted to do, but it just wasn’t enough for some people. To the people who weren’t fans of him, if he was too generous, they would consider it as him showing off his wealth and social status. 

There were so many different organizations Mark would donate to and speak up for to show his support but so many antis would claim he was doing it just to look good to the public. However, once he went silent to stop all the loathing and hatred, people called him stingy and claimed he didn’t care about others. These days, it seemed as if Mark was the main target for hate within their group and that says a lot seeing as how Got7 were constantly hated on and ridiculed on a daily basis for no reason at all. Whenever something like this happened, his members would constantly tell him to stay away from social media and told him that all the negative people were just jealous of what an amazing person he was. 

Normally he would do quite the good job with ignoring the hate, and the rumors that were made up about him that made no actual sense at all; but for some reason there was one comment about how Got7 would be much better off without Mark in the group because apparently “Mark doesn’t do anything to really help the groups success in any way.” Or so the comment read. He tried his best to ignore it and he wanted to find something to take his mind off of the comment, but he couldn’t. 

Not even the funny video Yugyeom showed him could prevent him from overthinking and he really didn’t want to show that he was bothered to the other members. As much as he loved them like family, the last thing he wanted to hear was to ignore the hate which is what they always told him. One can only ignore something so much until it actually eats away at them to the point where they feel like screaming and since Mark wasn’t in a place where he could verbally or physically let out his frustrations, he excused himself from the room and walked throughout the arena looking for a quiet and empty place to call the only person he knew that could calm him down. 

The only person whose been on his mind and clouding up his thoughts for the last two months since the tour started. Mark considered every single member of Got7 to be his best friend; from day one the seven of them have been through so much together. So many ups and downs, so many trials and tribulations that only made them stronger as individuals and a whole group. Each member had their own way of cheering Mark up; whether it was Jackson making silly jokes, Jinyoung reciting lines from a show he was acting in, Youngjae bringing coco over for Mark to play with her or BamBam buying him a bunch of luxurious items because in his words “a little Gucci never hurt nobody.” 

However, the only person who could really get Mark out of the deepest funk was you. You, in more or less words were the only other best friend Mark had apart from his members. He told you every single secret, worry, doubt and insecurity he had because he trusted you with his entire being. On the fateful day the two of you met over a year and a half ago, Mark knew you were going to be someone special in his life and that was an understatement. If he was being honest, you were his entire life; Mark never believed in soulmates before meeting you. 

The idea of two people out of the billions of people in the world being destined together was so cliche and he didn’t understand why so many people would claim they met their soulmate. As the days went by and he spent more and more time with you, Mark realized that he got more than he bargained for when he became friends with you and that’s when he knew he was in trouble. Your relationship with Mark was hard to explain; for the first few months, you found confidants in one another. He was your escape from reality just as much as you were his. When your education and work got too much for you to handle, Mark would do whatever he could in his power to get you to focus on better things. Further down the line of being friends, it then blossomed in to something more. Even when Mark was still getting to know you, he found himself developing a little crush on you, but it was inevitable. 

You had a beauty that Mark couldn’t even put in to words to describe. He may have been surrounded with so many beautiful idols, actresses and models on a weekly basis, but there was just something; actually many things about you that stood out from everyone else. Mark was sure he’d be able to spot you in a crowded room because his eyes were always looking for you and because you just radiated such a positive and spirit lifting energy that was so contagious. He always wanted to be around you. Around four months in to your friendship, Mark confesses his feelings for you, but he knew he couldn’t act on them. Dating was taboo in the KPOP industry and most idols who were in relationships did their best in hiding it. 

There was nothing Mark wanted more than to be the lucky guy you called yours, but it was selfish of him to want to take things further with you knowing that he’d be holding you back from so many things. And it wasn’t like the two of you could have a normal relationship. He wouldn’t get to take you on all these cute dates he was sure you wanted to go on, he wouldn’t get to post about you nor would you be allowed to post anything about him, he couldn’t hold hands, hug you, hold you and kiss you unless it was behind closed doors. 

He wouldn’t be able to give you the love and attention you deserved and never failed to show him every single day and that’s what bothered him the most. You were so close, yet so far away and Mark was afraid that you’d get tired of being just friends with him and decide that you didn’t want to wait around for him. Especially since you requited his same feelings and made it aware that you were willing to do whatever it was that he asked of you. You were aware of how hectic his life was and you had a feeling a relationship would be something he wouldn’t be able to give you and you respected it completely. 

As long as you had Mark in your life, it didn’t matter what he was to you. But you were only human. You were still so young and had a great head on your shoulders. You had so much going for you yet you were always at his beck and call whenever he needed you. To both his delight yet dismay, you were willing to drop anything and everything for him. While he was away, you’d wake up in the middle of the night to talk to him and stay up till the wee hours of the morning to listen to him talk about his day even if you had an early morning shift or class. 

When he got sick, you’d pick up some medication and make some soup to help him feel better. If you were out with friends or colleagues and he asked to hang out, you’d give them some lame excuse and made your way over to him. Mark could never come up with the right words to say to show you and tell you just how much you meant to him and how afraid he was to lose you. All he could do, was show you through his actions; his gentle kisses on your cheeks, your forehead and your lips, how he would always need to be touching you whenever the two of you would spend time together, the way he would always check up on you to make sure you’ve eaten all your meals and that you were taking good care of yourself and doing all these little things for you like blowdrying your hair for you when you were too tired or helping you study for an exam even if he had no clue what he was reading. 

He could only hope you understood his nonverbal signals of love. Being on tour was always so fun; it seemed as if more fans came out with every new tour and tonight in London, there were at least 40,000 people at the Wembley stadium waiting for Got7 to perform. Over the years, his nerves slowly calmed down and performing on stage was such an indescribable feeling that he was so grateful for being able to do. The only thing he hated about touring, was being away from you. 

Mark made sure to FaceTime you whenever he got the chance, but it wasn’t the same as seeing your breathtaking smile and contagious laughter that he loved so much in person. He’s asked you to go along with them many times, but because you were a full time student with a full time job, and Mark’s company didn’t think it would look good for some random girl to join them on tour and follow them around the world, you stayed back in Korea. As the phone line kept ringing, anxiety built up in his chest the longer he waited. He checked his phone to see what time it was in Korea and he let out an exasperated sigh. 

It was currently six in the morning and since Mark knew your schedule like the back of his hand, there was a chance you were either getting ready for school or for work and he tried his best not to be upset. Just like how his work was his main priority, you had every right to make your studies and your work ethic your main concern. However, you had a tendency to put Mark at the top of your priorities and sometimes he wished you didn’t think so highly of him. He wanted to give you the same amount of attention and praise you’ve shown him over the years and you were his second main focus right after his job. 

He hated putting you second, he was sure you must’ve loathed having to be his second priority but you never complained nor would you make it known that it bothered you and Mark didn’t know what higher power it was that brought you two together nor did he know what he did to deserve someone so patient and understanding, but he would do it time and time again if it meant having you in his life for as long as he possibly could. With one more sigh, he began walking back towards the corridors where their waiting room was located when he felt his phone vibrate. He didn’t even miss a beat, once he saw your name on the screen he answered and he didn’t care how desperate he sounded. He was sure he didn’t have much time to talk to you, but it didn’t matter. All Mark needed was to hear your voice and he knew he’d feel so much better. 

“Hey baby, I’m sorry I missed your call. I was washing my face and brushing my teeth. Aren’t you going on stage here soon? Is everything okay?” 

Just hearing your soft little giggle through the speaker was enough to get him to forget of his problems and all he focus on was the sound of your gentle and extremely soothing voice. The term of endearment made him feel even more giddy and he was sure if the guys were to see the effect that you had on him, they wouldn’t let him live it down. 

“Yeah I just—I just wanted to talk to you. I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, I just really miss you. That’s all.” 

By the hesitant tone of his voice, you could tell there was something more that he wasn’t telling you, but you weren’t going to pry at him. You never forced mark to go in to detail about what was worrying him and wanted him to confide in you at his pace. But you hated knowing that something was currently on his mind not knowing exactly what it was. Even if Mark was a couple of years older than you, you always felt the need to protect him from any evil. His happiness and well being was all you ever cared about and sometimes you’d put it before your own. 

“I miss you too Mark and you’re never a bother, you know that. You know if something is wrong, you can tell me right?” 

Although you couldn’t see him, you could tell he was nodding in agreement. The two of you had a mutual understanding; you’d wait for each other to find solace in one another but when you did, you’d let it all out. “I know, thanks y/n. I read something so shitty earlier, but hearing your voice makes it all the more better. Don’t worry about me babe, I’m okay. I’m sure the guys are probably looking for me. I’ll call you after the show, have a nice morning and don’t forget to eat a hearty breakfast. I’ll talk to you soon love.” 

Once you both said your goodbyes, Mark felt energized and ready to go on stage. He didn’t think it was possible for someone to change him for the better but here you were, making his heart feel as if it was about to bust out of his chest and he never wanted that feeling to go away. As soon as he made his way back to the dressing room where all the guys were dressed up and waiting for him, they were all confused seeing the huge grin on his face after he left so abruptly as if something was wrong; but none of them were going to question it. They were all aware of who you were to Mark and all six of them approved of you. 

They loved the effect you had on the eldest boy; they loved the way you made him laugh and smile on his darkest days. You were the light Mark needed and they knew you were put in his life to save him from himself. Once they all walked out onstage and heard the thousands of screams and chants echoing throughout the arena, anything that was bothering Mark no longer mattered to him. All he could think about was making the fans happy, putting all his energy in to each and every song they performed and getting to call you again later. The concert went off without a hitch and honestly it had to be one of the best concerts they’ve done since they started touring. 

For the rest of the week, Got7 finished the Europe leg of the tour and as much as Mark loved exploring the many different cities, trying the different foods they had to offer and taking a well deserved rest from all his other work, he couldn’t wait for the two week break the guys were allowed back in Korea. He couldn’t find it in himself to sleep the night before, he was just so excited to have you in his arms again and he came up with the plan to surprise you about coming home earlier than expected. Everyone seemed to know of Mark’s plans because as soon as they landed, they hailed him a taxi and gave the driver your address which he was extremely grateful for. While he was away, he’d find himself overthinking your relationship. 

He wanted—no, Mark needed to set things straight between the two of you. Even if you told him that you were willing to wait for him for as long as he needed you to, humans could only be patient for so long and he was afraid you’d find somebody while he was away. Somebody who could take care of you in ways Mark could only wish he’d be able to. Somebody who would love you freely; out in the open without having to worry about a rumor breaking out. Somebody worthy of all your love and admiration. 

It was late when they arrived back and he could only hope you didn’t log on to social media and saw that Got7 were back in Korea. He quickly stopped by a cute little hole in the wall florist shop and purchased you a dozen of your favorite flowers. No matter how jet lagged he was from the ten hour flight and how much he wanted to go to sleep, the desire and urge to hold you in his arms was stronger than any exhaustion he felt. He knew he should’ve texted you to ask what you were doing in case you were out to dinner with your friends, but he was just too excited to finally see you that it slipped his mind that there was a chance you weren’t home. 

As soon as he buzzed your doorbell, there was an odd feeling that crashed over him and he couldn’t put his finger on it. However, once you opened the door and he saw you dressed so prettily, the numbness he felt in his chest only grew more. 

“Oh my God—Mark! What are you doing back so early?!” 

You didn’t give him any time to answer before you practically jumped on him; wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. You began leaving chaste kisses on the sides of his face and finally left a sloppy kiss on the corner of his mouth before jumping down. 

“Hello to you too baby. I wanted to surprise you. God y/n, I’ve missed you so much.” 

You looked up at him with an adoring look in your eyes before cupping his cheek. These last three months without him was just as hard and if not more difficult on you than it was for him. Mark had all his members, friends, staff, family and fans by his side but all you really had was him. Although he never failed to lean on you whenever he needed to, you didn’t want to bother him and handled most of your problems by yourself. Even if he told you to tell him when something wasn’t going your way; you just never wanted to burden him. Just getting a text of encouragement was enough to help ease your negative thoughts. 

Seeing him, with his fluffy, brown hair down to his neck, his face more healthier and fuller than the last time you’ve seen each other and his biceps more prominent, it was an overwhelming feeling and you had a hard time believing he was actually back and at your apartment. 

“Mmm, I missed you too handsome. Let’s get you settled in. Did you eat? Are you hungry? You look exhausted Mark.” You reached for his hand as he held the bouquet of flowers under his arm and dragged in his luggage with his free hand. Since you were ahead of him, you didn’t get to see the way his cheeks turned bright pink at your sudden movement. He was so whipped for you. Once you walked in to your living room, he was quick to notice the box of chocolates on your coffee table and the flowers in a vase sitting on your counter. There was that weird feeling again and he was soon growing curious with what exactly it was that seemed to be eating away at him. You had him take a seat on the couch as you hurriedly brought his luggage in to your room and made your way back to him. 

“I uh—these are for you.” You gave him a toothy grin; excited at the idea of him thinking to stop by somewhere and get you flowers. The soft peck on his lips was your token of appreciation and you walked in to your kitchen to find another vase to put his flowers in. Although he felt as if he could practically knock out right there, he got up from the couch and walked over to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his chin on top of your shoulder. You’ve always adored the height difference between you and Mark. You weren’t the shortest person ever, but you weren’t blessed with height. You shivered at the feeling of him pressing a kiss against your neck and leaned back in to his chest to give him more access to your nape. 

“Where’d you buy the flowers from?” When he felt you tense up at his question, he knew something was up and he had a gut feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer. 

“I just came back from a double date—but it’s not what you think. One of my coworkers really likes this guy, but she didn’t want to go out with him on her own just yet so she asked me to tag along with her. Honestly she’s been trying to set me up with all these guys but I’ve told her I’m unavailable more times than I can count on my hands. I think she used that as an excuse for me to go out on a date, but I really wasn’t interested. He gave me these flowers and those chocolates, but I didn’t really give him any of my attention and if I’m being honest, the entire thing was so awkward and I gave an excuse to leave early. I’m glad I did though.” 

You were facing him at his point and ran both your hands through his hair. So that’s why you were all dolled up; Mark knew he wasn’t overreacting for no reason. You just came back from a date. It didn’t matter that your friend set you up, for all he knew you could go on multiple dates and he couldn’t do anything about it. The two of you were untitled. He didn’t have the right to stop you from looking for a genuine relationship. All he could do was hope and pray that the feelings you harbored for him were enough to get you to stick around. 

The way his brows furrowed made you nervous and you didn’t think he cared for you in that way to get bothered at the idea of you seeing someone else. You and Mark may have acted like a couple, but because he wasn’t able to be in a relationship nor did he make it verbally known that he wanted to be one with you, you didn’t think it was possible for him to grow jealous at the thought of you dating someone else. 

“I see. Have you been on any other dates? Met anyone worth your while?”

“No. Just the one tonight. Why would I look for anyone else when I have you Mark? Or I mean—actually I don’t know what I mean. I’m not yours and you’re not mine yet I’m holding on to this tiny little thread and the little voice that’s telling me to not give up on us but I don’t know what you see me as; for all I know I could just be a friend you kiss every now and then just because you can’t have anything to serious. I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t bother me and that I’m fine with being stuck in this untitled relationship knowing that I want more, but all I care about is you. I know it’s hard for you to live a normal life and I just wanted to give you whatever it is that you need. I’m sorry, I talk too much—“ 

When you felt a teardrop fell on your cheek, you hesitantly looked up at the older boy and felt a pang to your chest at the sight of his lip quivering as tears were building up at his eyelids. Everyone and anyone who knew Mark was well aware of how sensitive he could be and it was a trait of his you genuinely appreciated. It showed that he had such a big heart. There were moments where he would cry watching a sad video or movie and you’d always smile softly to yourself at how adorable he was. But now, seeing him cry and having a feeling that you were the reason made your head spin. He brought his hands down to your waist and lifted you up on to the counter before connecting your lips together in a rough and extremely passionate kiss. 

You and Mark might have shared quite a few kisses in the last year, but this was the first time his lips smashed and melded against yours perfectly. His lips were chapped and tasted salty from his tears, but it didn’t matter. He all but gently forced his tongue in to your mouth and down your throat and although the feeling was foreign, you could find yourself getting used to this. All too soon, he pulled his lips away and placed his forehead against yours, earning himself a soft whimper from the absence of warmth. He began gliding his thumb along your thigh while lifting your chin up so that you were making eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry y/n, I’m so fucking sorry for having to put you through all of that for the last year but I’m so grateful for each and every single sacrifice you’ve made for me. You’re way more than just a friend to me baby, I thought it was obvious with the way I have to constantly be kissing these pretty lips of yours and the way I always need you around. If you were just a friend, I wouldn’t be calling you and checking up on you every day. You wouldn’t be on my mind the first thing when I wake up and right before I go to bed and I know it’s my fault for not telling you how I feel but I’m telling you now, I’m crazy about you. I was always yours y/n, always. You mean everything to me y/n and you know what? I love you. I love you so much y/n and I plan on loving you for a very long time. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, I don’t care about the repercussions or what punishment I get for this, but please be my girlfriend. I’ll do anything to be yours completely.” 

With the way he was looking at you, as if you were the one who set the entire universe in to the sky, you were putty in his hands. You never said it out loud, but this is what you’ve wanted from the time that Mark stumbled in to your life. Because you were afraid to come off too forward and selfish, you didn’t tell him that you’d daydream of the day he could finally be able to date you without having to worry about what people or say or do if and when they were to find out. You pulled him closer to your body and hid your face in the crook of his neck. Feeling his heartbeat against your chest made it harder for you to keep the growing smile on your face at bay. You really did love the beautiful boy in front of you. 

“I love you too Mark. I’ve always had these feelings for you and I know they’re not going anywhere. You really are one of the best things that ever happened to me. I want nothing more than to take things further with you. It’s always been you too baby. I’m always going to be here for you.” 

He stole a couple more kisses from the corner of your mouth before picking you up from off of the counter and throwing you over his shoulder. “Mark, what are you doing?!”

“You can’t look that amazing and not expect me to show you exactly what you do to me. I’m gonna make love to my beautiful baby.”

“Mark! At least take me to dinner first before getting in to my pants you ass.”

He playfully slapped your butt before making his way toward your room. “You know babe, our relationship was never normal to begin with so there’s no point in following the rules. I like living dangerously. Forget dinner y/n, I’m going straight for dessert.”

Oh, here I go down that road Again and again the fool rushin' in But I can't help when I feel some kind of way Do you feel the same? 'Cause And I fall, I fall for you You caught me at my weakest I fall, I fall for you You caught me at my weakest I fall for you

Love you gonna get hold on me Tell me what you gonna do to me Now you've gone and got your hands on me Tell me what you gonna doAnd here I go down that road Again and again the fool rushin' in But I can't help when I feel some kind of way Do you feel the same?'Cause I fall, I fall for you You caught me at my weakest Yeah, I fall, I fall for you You caught me at my weakest And I fall for you

[queenofimagines]

Shorty

Request: “Can I request one where reader is a total goth/metal head and a new avenger? She’s also on the short side so the guys like to tease her. She takes them to a rob zombie concert one night and they’re totally shocked their tiny little rocker can handle herself in the mosh pit with 6-7 ft tall guys.”

Warnings: None

y’all !!! sorry i’ve been absent lately, school just started and it is kicking my ass. I do have a couple of pics in the works though sooooooo you guys will soon get some content I promise! thank you guys for being so patient ❤️❤️

You weren’t exactly what most would expect when thinking of an Avenger. No one was saying that you had to look bright eyed and righteous, after all the Avenger’s didn’t need another Captain America, but when Tony brought you in as the newest member of the team alongside Peter Parker, your new coworkers didn’t really know how to take it.

When you and Peter first walked into the Avenger’s common room, the rest of the team knew better than to show their shock. They greeted you as they greeted Peter but seeing you, a barely 5 foot teen clad all in black with high rise platforms next to their little spiderling who was the exact opposite of you left them scratching their heads, wondering why Tony thought the team needed two kids from such opposite ends of the spectrum. Before any of you knew it, however, both you and Peter had become the babies of the group, you more so than Peter on account of the fact that you didn’t have any powers. The Avengers had nicknamed you “Shorty”, much to your chagrin. It definitely wasn’t a nickname you were fond of but it seemed the more you got riled up over it the more fuel they had to use it, so after months of constant teasing you finally accepted your role as “Shorty”.

You were smart, smarter than anyone your age should be. Your intelligence almost rivaled that of Tony’s so when an article was published in the New York Times stating exactly that he was quick to offer you an internship much like Peter’s. You jumped at the opportunity right away, having always been a fan of Tony’s, and soon found yourself immersed in the very chaotic world of the Avengers. Since you didn’t really take on a combative role and thus didn’t get as much practice protecting yourself as Peter did, the Avengers felt like you needed to be supervised at all times, especially if you were to ever join them on missions. You were glad for the protection, never really being one for violence, but at times it felt like too much. Even on your walk to school you had Peter supervising you, despite the fact that you lived nowhere near each other. “Team bonding” Tony had called it, but you knew that was just a cover. You also knew, though, that the Avengers had become your family and that they wee just worried about you, so a quick talk about boundaries went a long say to fix the issue, although that didn’t stop the team from worrying about you.

When you first joined you had expected that there would be little to no downtime, but what you got was almost the exact opposite. While the Avengers did embark on missions more often than not they also spent an alarming amount of time just surveilling New York City and the world for discrepancies that could possibly indicate an Avengers level threat. For a busy body like you surveillance was absolute torture and you had been trying for the last week to get your teammates to take a break from the monotonous routine that you all had fallen into.

“Come on! All I’m asking is that we all go out and do something for fun.” You pleaded.

“No Shorty, we need to be ready if anything happens. And besides, if we leave we won’t know if anything is wrong.” Steve responded.

“That’s literally why FRIDAY exists. If anything happens, FRIDAY will alert Tony. I can program that in like 2 seconds.” You raised your eyebrows, waiting for someone to fight you on it. You knew they didn’t really want to go out, but you also knew that it would be good for them. Lately they all had adopted a pessimistic attitude because they had consistently been surrounded by the evil that exists in the world.

“What would we even do?” Natasha asked, already caving.

“I’m glad you asked.” You grinned, quickly pulling out a set of tickets from your bag and passing them out to each of the Avengers.

“Rob Zombie?” Tony read. “Is he like a singer or something?”

“Yeah! He’s my favorite, actually. I mean I’ve been apart of this team for a while now but I haven’t really told you much about me so... I figured a good place to start would be to go see one of my favorite people.” You gave the team your best puppy dog eyes.

“Well... I guess a concert could be fun.” Steve spoke up. The rest of the Avengers agreed while you did a little happy dance.

“Great! Go get ready cause we leave in an hour.” With a few incredulous yells, the Avengers started scrambling to get ready and an hour later you were all piled in the back of your grandmothers old van making your way to the concert venue. Along the way, you were warning the rest of the Avengers about what to expect. You had gotten floor seats, meaning that the Avengers would be introduced to the world of moshing and you were all but certain that none the Avengers had been exposed to anything quite like it.

When you arrived at the venue, you were giddy with excitement. Of course, a small crowed had formed around you with fans asking for pictures and autographs but luckily, everyone seemed a bit more excited for the concert than your arrival. People soon began filing in as soon as the doors opened and you all quickly found your seats, although you warned them that soon you’d all be out of them. The lights dimmed and you, along with the thousands of other fans in the stadium, began to scream, the volume only getting louder when Rob Zombie entered the stage. You were lost in your own world, jumping and singing along. Without even realizing it, you had slowly migrated closer to the stage. The rest of the Avengers were slowly starting to warm up to the music too, dancing as best they could to the songs they didn’t really know yet. Soon, though, Natasha had quickly realized that you were nowhere to be seen.

“Uh... guys? Where’s Y/N?” She asked. The Avengers looked through the cloud but found that you were nowhere in sight. Panic slowly rose within the group as they started to fan out to find you.

“Alright just stay calm! No need to get your panties in a twist, Y/N’s been lost in some big crowds before. Remember last Christmas at the shopping mall? She was able to find us, no biggie. This is just a concert, how much different could it be?” Just then a mosh had begun to form in the middle of the floor, the Avengers scrambling to get to the outer edges while some unfortunate members were knocked over by the plethora of bodies bumping into each other.

“There!” Thor yelled, pointing at you in the middle of the mosh pit. Instantly, the team tried to make their way towards you.

“Wait, wait, wait, look.” Peter said, holding everyone back. The team hesitated, ignoring their better judgment in order to do as Peter said. What they saw was something truly amazing. There you were, in the middle of the mosh pit, using what little momentum you had to smash into the 6 foot bodies that surrounded you, even hitting some people hard enough to cause them to stumble. The Avengers were impressed, to say the least, that their Shorty could hold her own in a place where the Avengers could barely do so. Deciding it was time to stop worrying about you, the team decided to try to enjoy themselves, even if Rob Zombie wasn’t their preferred genre of music. By the end of the night, everyone had found that the night had been a success, Steve even coming to the surprising conclusion that he would like to attend another Rob Zombie concert and buy some of his albums. You were more than happy that the team had enjoyed their time at the concert and that you were the one to have brought them there.

"If you guys liked that so much, next time we should try slamdancing!” You offered excitedly.

“Oh no no no, my old bones can’t take that kind of battering again.” Tony said.

“Tony, you literally fight people.”

“Yeah well, they usually don’t give me a heart attack in the process.” He looked pointedly at you, gently nudging your shoulder as you made your way back to the car.

“Fine, but I’m declaring that we have to have mandatory nights out at least once a month.”

[anythingandeverything1d]

Heart Attack

“Hey.”

“Hey? That’s it? That’s all you're going to say?”

“Harry...”

“Whatever. This was stupid. You shouldn't be here. Neither should I.”

“But yet here we both are.”

“It was a mistake. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Haz-” “No. Stop. Don’t call me that. You don’t get that right anymore. Im done with this. I never should have come.”

“Harry stop. Please. I miss you. I-I never should’ve left... Just let me explain.”

1 MONTH AGO:

“Stop!” you shrieked as Harry picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. “Harry!” He fell back into the couch with a laugh, you landing perfectly in his lap. Both of you were out of breath, Harry nuzzled his nose into your neck and you smiled, turning his head to yours and pressing your lips against his. It was the first night in almost 2 months that Harry had been home. You ran your hand across his cheek and sighed.

“Whats wrong?”

“I just missed you...” you bushed his hair out of his face. “I feel like we haven't had any time together.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Things with writing just got really crazy...and then the album release..”

“Yeah..I know. It still sucks though.” Harry smiled and kissed your nose. “I’m glad we at least have now. And you won't be leaving anytime soon so we can settle back into a routine.” You kissed him, wanting something more to follow.

Harry pulled away with a guilty expression. “Actually, I only have a month or so to stay before I start my tour for the new album...”

You blinked looking into his green eyes full of regret. “What?”

“Well we decided to do a full tour for the album and we decided to push it forward a bit....you know keep the excitement and everything up.” 

“Oh.” You climbed off his lap and stood up, pacing the room. “You were waiting to tell me this because?”

“I just wanted to wait and do it in person....I didn’t want to cause any extra stress.”

“Harry you literally promised we would have time together after the album was done...remember?”

“Yeah I know but I don't have a choice right now....this is what I do.”

“So we are just going to go back to a long distance relationship..Is that all we will ever be to you?”

“No-No of course not babe...You know I love you.”

You bit your lip holding back tears. Harry was trying to think of what to say to make things better but in your mind there was nothing that could fix this. “Harry you haven't even spent more than a week consecutively with me. We- we haven't even had time to relax. We were supposed to have that now.”

“Well we will for the next few weeks...We can make this work. You can come with me-”

“I have a job Harry. My dream job. I can’t just quit to tour with you..I don't want to be something you only come home to on the weekends. I want you to want this. To want a future together. A family.”

“I do.”

“Are you sure? It doesn't seem like it?”

Harry looked up, tears in his eyes. “What do you want me to do? What can I do to fix this...Quit the tour?”

“No. I’m not going to ask you to give up on your dream. I’m not going to take away something you love....”

“Then what? Just tell me what I can do..”

You sucked in a breath and wiped a tear from your eye. Crossing your arms you stood there for a minute. “I think we should just be friends...”

“(y/n).”

“No. I’m serious. I love you Harry...but I cant do this anymore. I need a break. I need to figure out what I want. I need to figure out if I can even make this work anymore.”

“Babe-”

“No I’m sorry.” You knelt down and kissed his lips hard. Your tears on his lips and his on yours. “I want to figure out what I can handle. I don't want to feel like  I come second to you anymore..”

“Youre not second I swear.”

“I just need time okay?” You kissed him again and sighed. “I love you, but this isn't working...” You stood up and walked out to your car, gasping for air and trying to collect yourself through the sobs as you drove home.

It had take a few weeks. You had taken a while to get over the pain of leaving Harry. Your heart ached. You felt sick to your stomach when you saw anything about him. You slept in his hoodies every night and questioned if you had made the wrong decision but you also knew that you couldn't continue with how things had been moving. So eventually, after those first few weeks, you had pulled yourself together and agreed on a causal blind date with a friend of a friend. You had gotten dressed in a crop top and skinny jeans, your hair down and makeup done. You weren't ready to date anyone...but you did want to try and move on...try to get back into a normal social routine. So here you were, entering the club late on a Saturday night. Of course you walk in and your eyes immediately rest on the green eyes you knew too well. 

Harry’s POV:

Harry felt sick to his stomach. Watching (y/n) walk out of his life that night was burned into his brain. He almost didn’t believe you when you said you wanted to be friends...He couldnt believe it. He loved you more than anything. You had gotten him through long nights away, writing the new album. You had been the one he called when he couldnt sleep. You had supported him through everything and yet now you were leaving? Saying you needed space? What was that about? The first few nights he hadn't slept. He just paced around the house, tossed and turned in bed, and barely ate. Things got a little better when plans for the tour started evolving and shaping. He had gotten into a better routine, one where you weren't involved. When some of the band had suggested going out to a club, he had said no. He didn’t want to be around other girls. He was secretly still holding out for you. Of course, the guys had practically dragged him there anyway. He sat at the bar, a drink in his hand. He was watching people walk in and out. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular but when his eyes landed on yours, he froze. He felt sick to his stomach. He felt like he was going to pass out. Your eyes were glued to his, until the guy behind you grabbed your shoulder and pushed you towards the bar opposite of his, your eyes reluctantly leaving his. 

Harry put a hand over his chest. “You okay mate?” Mitch asked concerned. “Youre looking a little pale.”

“I’m trying to be okay, I’m trying to be alright but man. It hurts.”

Mitch followed his gaze to you. “Harry she's no good for you. Look what she's done to you, I mean you barely ate. You weren't sleeping.”

“It doesn’t feel right though. She shouldn't be with another guy. She should be here with me. She was the one. She was the only thing I’ve ever wanted in my life.. ”

“Harry.” Adam cut in. “You're just too blind to see how much she's messed you up this time.. Youre way better off now that she's gone.”

“Im trying. Im trying so hard to be better now.”

“I’m glad. Do you want to leave?”

“It feels like I’m having a heart attack. Ugh” Harry gripped his chest and leaned back into the bar.

“It’s probably a panic attack...” Adam corrected. “We should probably go.”

“No. No- I’ll be okay.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Harry’s gaze fell back to you. You looked incredible. Dressed perfectly. Harry just wished he was the one kissing your cheek, telling you that you looked beautiful and that you didn't need the extra make up. He wanted to be the one with his hands around your waist. Who even is this guy? Why are you even moving on so quickly?

Harry stood up from the bar and smiled. “I’m just going to have a wee, I’ll be back.” Mitch and Adam looked uncertain but nodded and ordered another drink. Harry wandered to the bathroom. He stood by the door waiting. Within a few minutes you had wandered over, probably to check your hair. Harry causally bumped you as you were exiting and you looked up. His eyes met yours and his heart skipped a beat. He felt his chest tighten and his heart beat irregularly. “(y/n)...”

Your POV:

You looked up at him. His hair was trimmed, but perfectly pushed back in a wave. His green eyes were frantically searching yours and his hand was pressed lightly over his chest. He moved to step away but you grabbed his wrist quickly. “Wait. Can we talk?”

“I-I don't know...”

“Harry please.”

“Fine. Meet me outside in an hour.” You nodded and he walked away. Your heart was rushing and heat flooded your cheeks and your body. You hadn't reacted that way since you had last seen him and it made you smile. You entertained your date for a bit, but your mind was always on Harry. How he was doing, what you were going to say. Truthfully you wanted to tell him how much you missed him. You wanted him to know you made a mistake. But you also didn't know anything about what his life had been like and dint want to interrupt something he had with someone else...kind of like the media had said. After an hour passed, you wandered outside, waiting for Harry in the dark alley, a light rain drizzling over your body. 

PRESENT DAY:

“Explain what? How you left? How, out of nowhere you said you wanted to be friends? How you said you didn’t know what you wanted?”

“Harry I swear I-”

“Then, you show up with some random ass guy tonight, only shortly after breaking up with me?”

“No- well yes but thats not how it is.”

“Then how is it? Do tell me (y/n).” Harry was pissed.

“I made a mistake okay? I should have stayed with you. I love you Harry. I always have and I always will. I left because I wasnt sure how to feel...I felt you were always putting me in second to your music. I know its important to you but you rarely called, you rarely spent time at home with me...I just felt like it was one way. And I get it, I left. I walked away. But I regretted it the second I did it...I just needed time to really figure it out. And I have now okay? You are my dream. I know I have a great job and I love it but I love you more. I want to be with you and if that means touring with you and selling my house and quitting my job just to follow you around the world I will. I need you. I don't want to be your friend. I want to be your everything.”

Harry’s mouth dropped. He stepped towards you. It looked like tears were dripping down his cheeks, but you couldn't tell if it was that or the rain. His wet hair dripped in front of his face and he brushed it back before closing the remaining space between you. His lips collided with yours. He was patient for a second before biting down hard on your bottom lip and slipping his tongue into your mouth. He kissed you like his life depended on it and if that were the last thing you had of him, you would die happy. “I love you.” he whispered against your lips.

“You do?” You leaned your head back, cupping his cheeks in your hands and staring into his eyes.

“I am in love with you (y/n). Seeing you here, tonight, with that other guy. It didn't feel right. I wanted to be him, his hands on you, dancing with you...” Harry’s hands slid to your waist. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. I mean look at you. Fuck.”

“You don't hate me?”

“I have never hated you.” His lips pressed to yours again, this time more gently. “Come with me. I want you on tour with me.”

You kissed him, your hands tangling into his hair. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You kissed him hard, pulling his lips back with yours. “Take me with you and don't ever let go.”

“I won't. I promise.”

---

Hope you all like this! Let me know what you think! xoxo

[plaidbooks]

Everyone Deserves Love chapter 2

A/N: Chapter 2 is here! Skipped forward a couple years from the last chapter, and there’s a little bit of a hinting at some of Devon’s past. This chapter takes place during season 8, when Olivia was undercover in Oregon with Porter. The first bit is a blurb between the two chapters.

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Tags: panic attacks, rape mention (and a little description, but not explicit), lesbophobia, homophobia, briefest allusion to consensual sex (blink and you miss it)

Words: 8k+ 

           Devon worked with Manhattan’s SVU department a handful of times since their first meeting. In that time, she had become closer to the detectives, especially Olivia and, by extension, Stabler. She and Stabler still butted heads every now and again, but they grew to respect each other’s methods, as Dr. Huang had predicted. As for Devon and Olivia, it was like having a sister that they never knew they wanted. As much as Liv loved her team, it was nice to have a woman to talk to about personal things, outside of the two women ADAs that SVU has had. And for Devon, though she’d never mention it to Liv or to herself, she gained a new best friend that didn’t so much “replace” Emma, but filled that spot for close female friend—though Devon made sure it never made it past that “friend” point, no matter how attractive Devon found the detective. She also knew that Olivia wasn’t interested in women, so Devon didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Plus, Devon didn’t really want to get close to someone she was working with; her heart still hurt when she attempted to dissect her feelings for Emma.

Unlike Devon’s other work acquaintances, they actually kept in touch pretty well; enough so that Devon even met Stabler’s wife and family, before they got separated. Devon was rarely called to the precinct, maybe only once every 3-4 months, so the only time they really got to chat in person was either on the job, or when they randomly got to meet for a nightcap or lunch.

           It took Devon about a year to get into the rhythm of working with SVU—mostly because she wasn’t there often enough. For example, Devon always worked to protect the victims, whether they were held hostage or being trafficked around. SVU, however, was more about helping the victims, believing in their stories and helping them prove the abuser or perpetrator of their abuse. Putting the abuser behind bars. Getting enough evidence for a jury to convict them. In Devon’s line of work, the victims were being actively victimized; she didn’t need evidence, witnesses, or statements. Which is why the biggest fight she had was a year into the partnership with SVU, with ADA Casey Novak, and about testifying in open court.

           “I’m not testifying! Stop asking!” Devon had yelled, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Novak had asked once before, while they were both watching an interrogation. This time, they were standing in the middle of Precinct 16, officers and detectives alike coming to a halt and turning to watch a federal agent and an ADA duke it out.

           “I need you, though! Don’t you want to help put Ramsey behind bars?” Novak reasoned. She was keeping her voice level before, but it was rising now.

           Devon rolled her eyes. Of course, she wanted Ramsey behind bars; he was a rapist pig. But she couldn’t testify, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to go down memory lane with someone she didn’t really know. Especially not an ADA, acquaintance or not. She suddenly wished that she hadn’t helped catch Ramsey, that she had stayed in the court-free FBI, but then squashed that thought down; they had needed her, and she was glad to have stopped him before he escalated to rapist and murderer.

           “Casey,” Devon put a hand on Novak’s shoulder, noticing the unwanted attention from the officers watching and bringing her voice down. “I can’t testify. I need you to trust me on this. You’re a great ADA, you can do it without me.” It was true; Devon had read up on Novak’s conviction rate.

           Novak gave her a long look, long enough that Devon dropped her hand back to her side. She took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to tell you is that if you do not testify, then I don’t think I’ll win this case.” She let her words sink in, then added in a near-whisper, “don’t make me subpoena you.”

           Devon felt a weird twisting in her stomach; something she had never felt before. She tried to ignore it, look intimidating. “Is that a threat, counselor? Let me tell you what will happen if you don’t back off. I was offered an undercover in Iceland. Don’t make me go there until after this trial.”

           Novak’s eyes narrowed. “You’d really flee the country on a bogus mission to avoid testifying? It’s not that bad; you just sit in a box and tell the truth.” If Novak continued talking, Devon missed it. In her mind’s eye, she pictured herself in the witness box. She looked over at the defense attorney, one from Devon’s nightmares. He was distorted, his smirk too large for his face, his eyes turning black. The courtroom was a dark red color, the gallery’s faces blank, emotionless. Devon’s heart started beating faster, tears welling then flowing down her cheeks.

           “Devon?” Novak’s voice sounded leagues away. It wasn’t until Novak placed her hand on Devon’s arm that she snapped back to Precinct 16, ripping her arm away from Novak’s grip. The tears on her face were real, as was her frantically beating heart. For a moment, she thought she was having a heart attack. Her chest was heaving, she was gasping for air, but she couldn’t fill her lungs. She glanced at Novak’s worried face, vaguely noticed the detectives moving towards them. Devon turned and sprinted out of SVU’s department, pushing stunned officers out of her way. She ran past the elevator, heading for the stairs, taking them as quickly as her legs would carry. She didn’t know what was happening to her, all she knew was she needed fresh air. She made it to the bottom step before her legs gave out. She was shaking all over, openly weeping. She pulled herself across the ground, shoving herself in the corner of the stairwell, and curled into herself, pulling her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, burying her face into her knees.

           She didn’t know how long she was there, shaking, crying, clutching her chest and trying to think about anything but the courtroom, that small witness box. When she raised her head from her knees, she found Olivia sitting on the stairs by her, looking concerned. But Liv knew better than to ask; she knew how to treat victims. It took another 10 minutes for Devon to stop crying before she told Liv what was happening—not the whole story, just her and Novak’s fight and what she was feeling now. Olivia, having been through this before both with victims and personally, explained what a panic attack was and how Casey must have said something that triggered that reaction. After making sure that Devon was alright, Liv assured her that she wouldn’t have to testify, that she should go home and relax for the day. Devon and Olivia grew closer that day, and it wasn’t long until Devon told Liv the whole story.

2 years later

Apartment of Devon Motely

Friday, July 27th 6:24am

           Devon sighed as she let the hot water run over her, washing away the sweat from her morning gym workout and jog. The shower felt amazing, and she got out feeling refreshed, ready for the day. She was in the middle of drying off when her cell phone rang, the sound coming from her room. She hurried over to it, looking at the ID quickly before answering. Captain Cragen.

           “Motely,” she answered, sifting through her closet for an outfit. Better grab something loose if she was going into SVU and whatever mess they needed her for. Mobility was a priority for her.

           “It’s Cragen. Are you free to do an undercover for me?” Cragen replied.

           Devon had just finished a stint of undercover for the Feds—only a month--so she was off for the next week or two, at least until her shrink cleared her; definitely free to help out the squad.

           “Of course. How long?” she asked.

           “Hopefully only for tonight.”

           Oof, tonight? That was short notice. Well, she didn’t have any plans tonight, anyways. At least, not any important ones, unless she counted watching the baseball game and eating a pint of ice cream as important. Just “normal” things that helped bring her back to this life, not the made-up life of who she was for a month.

           “I’ll be right there,” Devon said before hanging up. She honestly didn’t mind doing some field work for NYPD; it was nice having…easier cases. Not that they were easy cases but compared to the hell that she dealt with on a near-daily basis with the FBI, it was like a walk through the park. Except for the court stuff. Devon refused to testify, but she did offer to transport, protect, and support the victims or witnesses that did testify. And, thankfully, Novak had backed off from asking her.

           It took Devon another 10 minutes to get herself ready. She was happy with her appearance, hoping that maybe the department wouldn’t change her outfit for the undercover op. She was in a scoop neck, plain black shirt and dark jeans. She thought about a light cardigan, but decided against it; it was in the 70s outside, plenty warm enough, even for her California skin.

SVU department

Friday, July 27th 7:14am

           Devon had arrived at the precinct and sought out Cragen. The only detective she encountered in the precinct was Munch, looking annoyed at being there so early. She happily waved to him before heading to Cragen’s office. Cragen closed the door behind her and he filled her in on the details. There was an LGBT+ bar that was mostly used by lesbians and bisexual women, barely any men. But there was a group of men that would show up in the wee hours of the morning, right before closing, stalk a woman that would come out of the bar, and then beat and rape her. This happened 4 times in the past two weeks, and the DA is treating it as a hate crime against lesbians. Each victim recalled one or more of their attackers saying something along the lines of, “fucking them straight.” SVU was positive that one of the men in the bar was a part of the group and would target the women from the inside before leaving and notifying his buddies. SVU was a little short staffed, so Cragen opted to call in Devon for this.

           “We’d like for you to be targeted by this group, or at the very least, find out who they are. We’ll have Stabler undercover in the bar to help keep an eye out, plus Fin and Munch on the outside, along with a temp transfer from Brooklyn, Detective Lake. You’ll be safe,” Cragen finished.

           “I don’t doubt it,” Devon replied with a reassuring smile. She trusted the detectives to have her back. Though, she was curious as to why Liv wasn’t mentioned. Did this Lake replace her?

           Cragen looked a little uncomfortable before saying, “I hope you don’t mind playing a lesbian.”

           “Not at all. But may I ask why Olivia isn’t up for it?” Devon asked, trying to dig some information out of Cragen without asking outright.

           “Uh, Detective Benson isn’t here right now.”

           What? “She’s not here? Where is she?”

           Cragen gave her a look. “I thought that you’d know better than I. The Feds came in and took her for an undercover assignment. Other than that, they’ve told me nothing.”

           That took Devon aback; she had no idea. Not that she talked to every undercover agent or their case workers. She wondered if she knew her case worker, if she could find where Olivia was if she dug deep enough. Maybe Jenkins knew where she was. Why did the FBI even need her?

           In an effort to keep the conversation light, Devon said, “Oh, so you’ve run out of female detectives to UC for you in a lesbian-dominated bar. Enter me, the only other woman you know.”

           Cragen gave her a terse smile. “I do have another temporary replacement transferring in...whenever 1PP decides to actually send her. I would, however, like to get this mess taken care of now instead of waiting for a detective I don’t know.”

           Devon let the conversation end there. She agreed with the Captain; she’d rather be doing this instead of some new detective that no one knew, or worse, trusted. As she left the office, she thought about the mission at hand. She honestly didn’t mind playing a lesbian; she was bisexual, anyways, so it wouldn’t be hard to feign interest in random bar tenets, no matter what their gender was. She thought about her wardrobe at home; did she have a more suitable outift for this? Or should she just let the department figure that out? She had until late tonight to get ready for it, but she knew the department; they liked to have everything planned out in advanced, to have their hands in everything. Plus, she still had to talk to Huang—or whoever the profiler they had on the case was—to make sure she knew what these dirtbags were looking for. She tried not to think about how terrible these men were; it was just making her more and more angry. She disliked rapists as much as the next person, but this hit close to home; hate crimes against queer women. She was getting tired of how men were treating them.

           Coming out of Cragen’s office, she saw that Fin and Stabler had arrived at work; both were at their desks, starting in on today’s crap. Then there was the new guy; at his desk talking to Fin idly. He was attractive, his tanned skin stark against his loose white shirt. He looked over at Devon and smirked. Devon greeted the others before heading towards Detective Lake. Might as well introduce myself, she thought. He was supposed to be one of the detectives watching her back tonight, anyways.

           “Detective Lake? My name’s Devon Motely,” she greeted him, holding out her hand. He took it, giving her a hearty handshake.

           “Don’t let her play you,” Fin said, jokingly. “She’s a Fed.”

           Devon rolled her eyes, looking faux-offended. “Wow, Fin. Tell him how you really feel about me.”

Fin shrugged. “Hey, he’s here as my partner. I gotta tell him how it is.” That caught Devon by surprise; Fin’s partner and not Stabler’s?

“Why did Cragen call in the big guns? Are you here for that lesbian case?” Lake asked.

“That would be correct, yes. Can you not tell I’m gay just by looking at me?” Devon retorted. Yep, SVU’s humor was definitely rubbing off on her.

Lake’s ears turned red, but Munch came to his rescue, piping up, “ah, that would explain why you can work with all these guys without getting distracted by our rugged good looks.”

“Man, no one is thinking that about you,” Fin replied, waving his arm at Munch.

Munch huffed, glaring at Fin over his glasses. “This is why we’re not partners anymore; you can’t even back me up on this.”

As much as Devon wanted to hang around and joke with the detectives, she was there to do a job. She gave them a half-hearted wave, then went to find Dr. Huang, who Cragen did confirm was the profiler on the case. She found him upstairs, pouring over files, coffee in hand.

           “Hey George. Whatcha got for me?” Devon asked playfully, still grinning from the conversation downstairs; even up here, she could hear the guys ragging on each other. She took a seat across from him and picked up one of the files. The pictures of the woman’s injuries took the wind out of her sails.

           Huang gave her a smile and a hello before answering, “I take it Cragen called you in on the lesbian hate crime?”

           “You’d be correct.”

           He took a sip of his coffee. “How does that make you feel?” Huang knew about Devon’s sexuality, not that she kept it private. But it also wasn’t something brought up in conversation often. Actually, she didn’t know if the other detectives, outside of Olivia, knew. The joke just now was the first time it came up, and she didn’t know if they had taken her seriously or not.

           “Pissed off. Why can’t men just…leave women alone?” she asked, exasperated. “I know that it’s more than that, but god, it’s infuriating.”

           Huang nodded. He knew what she meant. “Can you keep your cool for this?”

           Devon rolled her eyes. “Of course, I can. Just, don’t hold it against me if I punch one of those men in the nose.”

           Huang smiled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Let’s get you up to speed.”

           They both spent the better part of the morning going over what little description there was of the men, what the victims had said, done, been wearing—all the things that could be seen as a slight against a man’s fragile ego. In each case, a man would approach the woman at the bar, though it wasn’t clear if this man was in on it or not, but it was a constant in each case. The man, described as a “frat boy but in his 30s,” would hit on the women, using pick-up lines so bad, they couldn’t even be considered pick-up lines. In all four cases, the women shut him down quickly, all of them rude to the man—a little piece of information that Devon deemed important, squirreling it away into her mind. The man would then leave, though the women didn’t notice if he went to bother someone else or left the bar altogether. Then, with times ranging between 1 and 2am, the women left. The days were different, so it wasn’t a habitual thing; they couldn’t predict when it would happen. As the woman walked down the street, heading home or to a friend’s place, they were attacked from behind. They all claimed that they were pushed into an alley and then were restrained. They claimed something would pin down their limbs and torso. Only one woman was able to tell that one such item was a baseball bat; the others claimed something cold and metallic. None of the women could tell how many men attacked them, ranging from between four to as many as eight. All of them were raped twice, and the men wore condoms. No chance at IDing them with DNA.

           By the time Huang had gone over all the details from all four rape cases, Devon needed a bath. Or a couple shots of whiskey. Or both. She felt anger, downright hatred, and a strong urge for revenge, even though she didn’t know the victims personally. That was the thing about SVU; the victim’s pain became the detective’s, or in this case, the agent’s. She fought down the feelings of loathing; they wouldn’t help her here. She needed to play it calm, collected, the way she always did in an undercover op. Thanking Huang for all the information, she headed to the department’s undercover section, allowing them to pick out her outfit and makeup. Now came her least favorite part, having them paint her face.

 Lumber Jill’s Bar

Saturday, July 28th 12:38am

           Devon was at the bar, drinking a Dirty Shirley through a straw. She had been in the bar for about an hour now, opting to get there early, just in case the pattern changed; there were a few groups of people around. Some came with friends, others had met here, whether for the first time or as a plan, Devon didn’t know. Stabler had come in after Devon had relayed that a couple of other men had showed up, though none matching the description they were looking for. Stabler had decided to sit in a dimly lit booth, going mostly unnoticed, but having a vantage point to where he could see Devon, the front door to her back.

At first, Devon wasn’t sure this was going to work; the department dressed her in a tight black tank top with a light flannel jacket, and matching tight jeans, the fabric ripped above the right knee. She looked like a man had dressed her up to play the bitchy lesbian in a bad horror film. Devon fought to change clothes, but ultimately lost the argument. At least the makeup was more subtle. It wasn’t until Devon sat down and got a couple of, frankly unsubtle looks and even some flirting that she realized they may not have entirely screwed this up.

           Devon had started her night by drinking a normal Shirley Temple—Sprite and cherry syrup—knowing that she shouldn’t drink during an operation. That is, until a beautiful brunette had bought her one with vodka in it.

           The bartender placed the drink in front of Devon, and before she could object, the bartender said, “Dirty Shirley, compliments of Lily.” She smirked and pointed out the woman sitting across the bar from Devon. The woman, Lily, smiled coyly before taking a sip of her own drink, causing Devon to forget how to breathe temporarily. Undercover or not, Lily was the most beautiful woman Devon had ever seen. And she had bought her a drink? Devon felt like a damn high schooler, sitting there slack jawed, staring at the woman. Lily snickered, snapping Devon back to reality. She awkwardly lifted the drink in a thank you before slamming it in one quick motion. She then stood up and practically ran to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face, ignoring the makeup the department plastered her with—she learned then that it was waterproof.

“Everything okay?” Stabler’s voice whispered in her ear, causing her to jump. She had the earpiece in for so long, she had forgotten it was there.

“Just a quick bathroom break,” Devon said into her mic. She wasn’t used to being mic’d up; the FBI had listening devices in every kind of accessory anyone would need. Devon’s favorite was a pair of square glasses, or a flashy gold bracelet. Tonight, though, she had the NYPD’s normal wire-up-the-shirt mic, taped to the inside of her bra. She looked into the mirror, tried to work up the courage to turn down Lily. Even if she didn’t entirely want to. It had been almost a year since the last time Devon had a partner to warm her bed; actually, Devon warming someone else’s bed was more accurate. She kept her work life and her social life—sex life—separate. She even used a fake name, a shortened version of her middle name, just so that they couldn’t find her after their one-night stand, no matter who it was. It wasn’t like she hated the thought of relationships, but she was afraid that anyone she would date may be put into harm’s way. She was an FBI agent; she had enemies. She ignored the side of her that tried to remind her that she was also afraid of opening up to people, of getting close to anyone. The last time she even entertained the idea of dating someone, they were shot in the head.

Devon mentally shook herself; she couldn’t be thinking of relationships, dating, or feelings, especially when she had decided that she was going to turn down Lily. She took a deep breath then headed back to her seat at the bar. Lily was no longer there, though. After a few minutes of searching the bar area, Devon found her sitting at a booth with three other women, laughing at whatever joke was said. God, her smile lights up her face perfectly, Devon thought before shoving the thought aside. She turned away, remembering why she was there, and took her seat at the bar again, flagging the bartender.

           She did stick with drinking alcohol, though, something Devon had never done before; she never drank while working. She vaguely noticed Stabler giving her a look when she had ordered—alcoholic drinks came in different glasses than non-alcoholic. If he had any complaints about her drinking, however, he didn’t mention it. Besides, who knows? Maybe the men wouldn’t show up tonight; it was nearing 1:30am, and no sign of the suspect. Maybe Devon could spend the night with someone; she was feeling lonely, if not sexually frustrated. Damn, she shouldn’t have gone to the bathroom, she shouldn’t have opened this door in her mind. Her thoughts were interrupted, though, when Stabler’s voice came through her earpiece again.

           “Group of six guys just came in, looking like trouble,” he went quiet while he watched them—Devon avoided turning to look, relying on Stabler’s assessment—before he continued, “looks like the leader is coming to you.” Devon mentally braced herself as a man slammed an arm down on the bar next to her, standing way too close for comfort. She could smell the Axe Body Spray radiating off him.

           “Hey honey, you look sad. Want me to cheer you up?” he asked in a way that made it sound like it wasn’t a question.

           “Was that supposed to be a pick-up line?” Devon replied. Devon remembered that the women reported being rude to the man at the bar, and “rude” was Devon’s middle name.

           The man scowled, “I don’t need a line to pick up hot chicks at a bar. Women flock to me.” Devon took this time to look at the man, carefully crafted disgust on her face—not like it was too hard to fake--and glanced him up and down. He was in his early to mid-30s with shaggy blonde hair. He was wearing a red polo shirt and cargo shorts. He almost looked like if he stepped out of a frat house, but never grew out of the mindset. All he was missing was the backwards ball cap. Everything about him screamed creep-who-was-full-of-himself-and-didn’t-hear-no…and he matched the victim’s descriptions perfectly. The fact that he came in with five other men was as much of a green light as Devon needed. She could at least get him for harassment if he somehow wasn’t their perp.

           “Uh huh. Well, why don’t you try and flock elsewhere? No ‘hot chicks’”—she did air-quotes around the words—“are going to be interested in you here. You’re not our type,” Devon said, rolling her eyes as if she were stating the obvious.

           The man’s face was turning red now. “Oh yeah? Well, no one’s calling you a hot chick,” he spat.

           “Then why are you even talking to me?” She glared at him, then, putting all the venom she could muster into her voice, dismissed him, “get lost.” The man gave her one last death glare before turning and heading back to his buddies.

           “If that’s not at least one of the guys we’re looking for, I’ll eat my jacket,” Devon whispered into her mic.

           “I’d take that bet, except I’m almost 100% positive that he is our perp. We won’t know until you leave, though,” Stabler replied. “Let me go first, wait five, then come out and take a left. Walk naturally.” As if he needed to tell Devon how to do her job.

           “You alright, honey?” the bartender asked.

           Devon put on a smile. “Yeah, that guy was a dick, though. Does he come in often?”

           The bartender glared at the door, as if the man might come back, before answering, “I’ve seen him only a couple of times, now. Him and his buddies. They seem to try and start shit with someone at the bar, but leave before I can officially kick them out. I don’t know how they always seem to come in when my back is turned.” Devon nodded. If that were true, then him and his group could very well be the rapists they were looking for.

           Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Stabler get up, pay for his beer, and leave. Thankfully, it was pretty busy at this point; the bartenders didn’t notice a man sitting by himself in a mostly lesbian bar, nor the fact that he left so abruptly, even though they should’ve been on high alert after the group had left earlier. Devon sipped at her drink before hailing the bartender and paying. When she stood, she was a little shocked to feel how light her head was. She didn’t think she drank that much, but oh well. She wasn’t too far gone, just a happy buzz. She made her way out, glancing around the bar once more. She saw Lily, still laughing with her group. Stamping her lust down, Devon headed out the door.

           It was a nice night, even this late…well, early. It was a balmy 60 degrees, perfect temperature to Devon. She pulled the flannel around her in what she hoped looked like a nervous manner before taking off in a brisk walk down the street she and the SVU detectives agreed upon earlier that day. It didn’t take long until she heard footsteps behind her. She kept her pace as normal as she could; being an undercover agent meant she had the skills to act natural, but being a woman meant she had the instincts to speed up, to protect herself. It was hard fighting those instincts as she heard the footsteps moving faster, jogging after her. Fuck training, she thought as she whipped around to confront her stalker. She was stunned when she saw that it wasn’t the creep from the bar, but Lily trying to catch up with her.

           “Wait,” she said a little breathlessly. Devon fought the blush that she knew crept across her face. “I didn’t get your name.”

           “Oh, uh, it’s Olivia,” Devon replied, silently cursing herself; it was the first name she thought of. How’d she forget her own fake cover name?

           Lily smiled at her, having caught her breath. “What a beautiful name.”

           God, how is her voice this pretty, too? Devon thought. She pushed away the accompanying thoughts about what that voice may sound like in a bedroom. “N-nice to meet you,” Devon stammered out, face flushing. Keep it in your pants, Motely, she thought to herself, embarrassed that just talking to this woman turned her into a blushing mess. Devon had heard of the term “disaster bisexual” before, but never attributed it to herself…until now.

           Lily laughed and Devon thought her face would explode with how hot it was getting. “Same to you…would you like to come back to my hotel room?” Lily asked. Wow, that was blunt.

           Devon’s tongue felt heavy in her mouth as she fought against herself. God yes, was her first thought. She damn near jumped out of her skin when she heard Stabler clear his throat awkwardly in her ear. Right, she was still mic’d up, and while it was only Stabler who was talking to her, she knew that all the other detectives could hear the conversation. Great.

           “Are you alright, love?” Lily asked, concerned. She put a hand on Devon’s shoulder to try and stabilize her. Devon felt electricity through the touch as she struggled controlled herself.

           “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine. I, uh, I’d love to go with you. But, uh, could we maybe raincheck until tomorrow night?” Devon asked, her voice rising an octave. Lily had only a moment where her face fell, when Devon heard more footsteps.

           Suddenly the group of six men from the bar appeared out of nowhere around the two women, Red Polo Shirt holding a bat and pointing at Devon. Well, seems like they were their perps, and that they were breaking pattern tonight; attacking two women and not blitzing them from behind. Instantly, Devon’s mind snapped back to calm, calculating, collected; her normal field agent’s instincts returning. She felt like herself again, adrenaline pumping through her veins—she felt alive.

           “You ain’t going anywhere tonight,” Red Polo Shirt announced. Devon looked around, trying to gauge the situation. They were on a sidewalk, no lights except for a couple dull streetlamps. There was a building at their backs, six men in a half circle around them. Besides Red Polo Shirt and his bat, Devon saw that only three of the other five men were armed: one also holding a baseball bat and two with what looked like metal bars. All things that could be used to hold down someone while the unarmed did whatever they wanted to the victim.

           “Get out of here, you bastard,” Devon said as clearly as she could. ‘Bastard’ was the code word that her and the SVU detectives had agreed upon before.

           “Move in,” she heard Stabler say to the rest of the team. Hopefully, they were close. But until then, it was stalling time.

           Red Polo Shirt drew Devon’s attention back to the scene when he took a couple steps closer. The other men followed suit, effectively closing the semi-circle around her and Lily. They were maybe twenty feet from the women now; close enough that the space between the men were almost non-existent. Lily got closer to Devon, and Devon shifted so that Lily was partially behind her. “You just don’t know how to not be a bitch, do you?” the man called out loudly, making his friends laugh.

           “And you don’t know how to take rejection,” Devon replied. Her whole body was tense, mind frantically trying to find a way out of here, or a way to stall further.

           Lily moved closer and whispered in Devon’s ear, “maybe we shouldn’t upset them.” Her voice was laced with fear, and Devon felt the sudden need to protect Lily, to never let fear taint that pretty voice again. No matter what happened, Devon would make sure that Lily made it out of this unharmed.

           Red Polo Shirt frowned. “See, this is what you bitches deserve. You need a good man in your life to teach you your place.” Well, if there was any doubt in Devon’s mind about this group of guys being her target, it was gone now. She backed up, and Lily followed suit until they were up against the wall. Devon’s mind flew into overdrive, trying to figure out a way out of this; if Stabler and the detectives weren’t there soon, then there was going to be a fight. Devon was confident in her fighting abilities, but even she knew that six against one was a losing battle. She was unarmed, plus the fact that she now had a civilian to protect. The two unarmed men were on either side of her and Lily, the two closest to the wall. Devon could feasibly rush one of them and shoulder her way past; that would just lead to a foot chase, with her hopefully being fast enough to outrun them until help arrived. But would Lily be able to make it out of there, too? In the heels Devon noticed she was wearing, she highly doubted she could run at all…though she had jogged to catch up with Devon in the first place. Maybe she was one of those women who learned to run in heels, in case something like this happened.

           Thankfully before Devon had a chance to find out, a cop car appeared on either side of the group, sirens and lights only going off once the group was blocked off, so as not to startle them into running. Stabler and Munch launched out of one cruiser, guns drawn, while Fin and Lake hopped out of their car.

           “Freeze, NYPD!” Stabler yelled. The two unarmed men instantly had their hands up. The two with metal bars let them fall from their hands, clattering to the ground, while they rose their hands. The other man with a bat attempted to run, only to be tackled to the ground by Lake. Red Polo Shirt cursed loudly before throwing his bat on the ground with a loud clang and raising his hands.

           “We didn’t do nothing wrong,” he called out to the detectives.

           “Yeah yeah,” Stabler replied, keeping his gun trained on him as he inched closer, pulling his cuffs from his pocket. Fin and Munch started cuffing the other men who were still standing. More cop cars arrived on the scene, officers rushing to help the detectives apprehend the suspects.

Devon walked over to Stabler, smiling, “thanks. I owe you one.”

“At least you don’t have to eat your jacket,” he replied, making Devon laugh, nerves still buzzing. Stabler gave her a grin before looking over her shoulder, subtly nodding to something behind her.

Devon suddenly remembered Lily, who hadn’t moved from her spot against the wall, still looking alarmed. Her eyes roamed over the scene before landing on Devon’s. She turned back to Stabler, taking the earpiece out and pulling the wire from under her clothes. She dumped them unceremoniously into Stabler’s hands before heading back to Lily. He gave her a subtle thumbs up before leading Red Polo Shirt to his squad car.

“Hey, you alright?” Devon asked once she was close enough.

“I—yeah. What just happened?”

Devon didn’t want to dive into the heinous details of the investigation, nor did she want to explain how she had lied about her name earlier. But she also didn’t want to lie now, either. “Long story short, I was working undercover to bust some homophobic, misogynistic assholes. And I think I just did.”

Lily looked her up and down. “So, is that why you turned me down earlier, Olivia?” Her eyes widened as if something just became clear. “Is that even your real name? Are you even attracted to women?”

Devon hated the accusatory tone in Lily’s voice, though she understood it. She also hated that she was going to lie to her once more. “My real name is Ryn,” she swallowed the nasty taste it left in her mouth--it was short for Kathryn, her real middle name—then continuing, “and yes, I am attracted to women.” Lily still looked skeptical, so Devon jokingly added, “I mean, who wouldn’t be after seeing someone as stunning as you?”

That made Lily smile. “Really? A pick-up line? Haven’t I already invited you back to my place?”

Devon’s cheeks warmed. “Ah, yes, you did. I’d also like to take back my earlier response in place of a new one.” Lily nodded, a smile dancing across her lips. “I would be delighted to go back to your place.” Especially now, with all the adrenaline still coursing through Devon’s veins.

 SVU Department

Monday, July 30th. 8:00am

Devon practically bounced into the 16th Precinct feeling lighter than she had in months. She still felt a little bad about lying to Lily, leaving early enough in the morning that Devon never even had to speak to her, Lily’s sleeping form breathing deeply in the hotel bed, clothes thrown around the room. But it was normal to Devon; form no attachments. She didn’t have the time to even think about seriously dating; work was her number one priority and hooking up when she was stressed seemed to be the easiest answer. Not only was she on-call at all hours of the day, every day, she also went on undercover cases for months at a time. How could she devote herself to someone when she couldn’t even devote time to herself? Work came first. Always.

Devon shook herself, forcing herself to remember why she was there in the first place. Stabler had texted her, letting her know that they were about to start the interrogations of the men from the bar. He had asked if she wanted him to wait for her and was elated when she said yes. I’m alright with letting these guys sweat for a little, he had written back. Devon smiled and waved at the detectives as they drank their coffee, trying to wake up. She never did understand how officers were not morning people.

“Hey Dev,” Stabler greeted as she made her way into the observation room. Devon grinned in response and looked through the glass. Red Polo Shirt was alone in the room, still in the same clothes from Saturday night. Sometimes, Stabler could be cruel, leaving a perp to stew all weekend in the cage. Not that Devon was feeling particularly bad for this piece of scum.

“He say anything interesting?” Devon asked. Even if Stabler left him and his buddies to sit all weekend, that didn’t mean that they were ignored. There were officers that worked weekends and would pay attention to anything the perps in the cage would say.

“Just a lot of cursing and complaining.” So, no confession yet? That shouldn’t be too hard to pry out of him.

“Hmph. Hopefully he’s as stupid as he looks,” she said. Just then, Fin and Lake entered the observation room, along with Captain Cragen.

He gave Devon a nod in greeting before instructing, “Fin. Stabler. You’re up.” The two detectives nodded, making their way into the interrogation room. Cragen, Lake, and Devon watched as Fin took the lead as bad cop, while Stabler took the sympathetic cop. Devon had done only a handful of interrogations in her career, which is why she enjoyed watching these guys do it. They were good; if she didn’t know Stabler any better, she’d believe his act of being a woman-hating, misogynistic bastard. Shockingly, though, Red Polo Shirt—Richard Morrisen—wasn’t confessing easily. Devon had been positive that it was going to be a slam dunk, yet Richard seemed to only be interested in screaming profanities at the detectives.

After about an hour, Cragen pulled the detectives out. They were getting nowhere, and Devon could tell that the whole squad was getting frustrated.

“Guy just won’t stop running his mouth,” Fin said as the interrogation door closed behind him. “At least he ain’t asking for a lawyer yet.”

“What now?” Devon asked. She’d never seen the detectives not get a confession before. Though, she’d only sit in on a couple interrogations; she was usually busy with another case before they finished processing whatever case she had helped them with.

“Now, we call Novak, see if we can set up a line-up,” Cragen replied.

While the detectives were setting that up—most of the time was spent getting lookalikes for six different line-ups—Devon took the time to talk with Detective Lake. Temporary assignment or not, it was always good to meet, actually meet, the people that Devon was going to be working with, even if this was only a one-time thing; something they wouldn’t know for a while.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable the other day,” Devon said, leaning against the man’s desk. Devon had said only one sentence to the detective, but the look on his face said enough in response.

“Nah, just caught me off guard. It’d take more than that to make me uncomfortable,” Lake replied, chuckling.

“Good, I’m glad,” Devon smiled. “Though, the thought of Munch as someone with ‘rugged good looks’ is slightly disturbing.” That made Lake laugh, his shoulders relaxing. Devon wasn’t great at making friends, but she was glad to see that she could at least make people laugh.

When he stopped laughing, she saw his body language change again; nothing big, but a clench of his teeth, his back stiffening slightly, and she knew he was nervous about asking this next question. “I mean, Munch isn’t really…your type, is he?”

Devon never understood why people were so interested in sexuality. She knew that for some people, it was an important label, a type of identity that people could spend years figuring out. But why people felt the need to ask others, especially when faced with the fact that they may not be straight, she just didn’t get. But Lake seemed to be genuinely curious; besides, Devon was a hard person to offend.

“I mean, he’s old enough to be my father. So, I’d say no, he’s not my type. I tend to look for people around my own age,” Devon said, smirking. Her use of the word “people” didn’t go unnoticed.

“Well, do you think that…I would be more your type?” He kept his cool when asking, the only signal of his nerves showing as his ears reddened.

Oh, so that’s it, Devon thought. She looked at Lake, really looked at him. He was slightly taller than her, lean but built, and very attractive. But he was also an SVU detective, someone that she may have to work with on a constant basis, which went against her one-night stand mentality.

“If you weren’t in the same line of work as I am, then yes, probably. But as it stands, I have a strict no-dating-your-coworkers rule,” Devon said, keeping her voice as light and neutral as possible. No one liked rejection.

Even so, his face fell, just slightly. “No, I get it. That makes sense.”

Before the awkwardness could continue, Novak came out of the observation room, signaling for Devon to come over. She gave Lake a small smile and wave as she went to talk to the counselor. Novak said nothing as she closed the door behind the two of them, sealing them from the rest of the squad.

“Devon, I know you’re going to hate me, but just understand that I would not ask this of you unless it was a necessity,” Novak blurted out. “I need you to testify in this case.”

“Casey--,” Devon started, but Novak cut her off.

“Listen to me. Out of the four victims, only two of them could ID any of the assailants, and even then, they only ID’d the two unarmed men as the rapists. Unless the detectives can get a full confession, then I have nothing except you tying these pigs to the assaults.”

Devon swallowed the lump in her throat. After Novak asked two years ago, causing Devon’s panic attack, Devon had been having recurring nightmares at least once a month. Always in a witness box. Always in a courtroom. Devon fought through the fog in her mind, trying to find any way out of this. Suddenly, a thought struck her.

“What if I interrogate Morrisen? He hates me, hates women; I’m sure I can get him to tell me every horrible thing he wanted to do to me,” Devon reasoned. Her brain had latched onto the idea, refusing to let it go. It was a life preserver in the ocean of darkness that was the courts.

Novak sighed heavily. “You get one chance. If you don’t get a confession, though, I’ll have to prep you for testifying.” Devon would not let that happen.

“Come in with me; SVU doesn’t  have another woman to spare,” Devon said instead of answering. Without another word, Devon led Novak to the interrogation room from earlier, Morrisen in the same seat, slumped over onto the table, clearly tired.

“Oh, so now they send the skirts in after me,” Morrisen croaked out. Then his eyes locked on Devon’s. “Wait, you’re that bitch from the bar!”

“That’s Special Agent Bitch to you,” Devon responded.

“Woah, woah, wait a minute. You mean you’re a cop? Isn’t that, uh…entrapment or something?”

Devon let out a low whistle. “Wow, that was a three-syllable word. I didn’t think your vocabulary was that enriched.”

Morrisen gave Devon a confused look. “No, it’s not entrapment. No one made you harass women at a bar,” Novak said.

Morrisen’s eyes moved over to her. “I didn’t harass nobody. Those bitches got exactly what they wanted, what they deserved,” he sneered.

Wow, this is easier than I thought it’d be, Devon thought. “Are you sure it’s what we wanted? Because I distinctly remember telling you to ‘get lost,’” she said. Let’s see if we can lead him to it.

Morrisen gave Devon the greasiest, creepiest smile that she had ever seen before replying, “your mouth said no, but your eyes were all over me.”

God, I need a nice, long shower after this, Devon thought, suppressing a shudder. “Trust me, Richard. No one wants whatever it is you think you can give them.”

Morrisen’s smile turned into a scowl as he jumped up from his seat, sending the chair toppling over behind him. Novak gave a startled jump, but Devon held her ground; she didn’t even flinch.

“You know what I gave those stuck-up sluts? I gave them just what they wanted! They needed some rough and tough lovin’ from yours truly. Once you go Dick,”—he pointed at himself—“you never go chick.”

Devon was feeling fully disgusted at this point. She looked at Novak as if to ask is that a good enough confession? Novak shook her head, and Devon looked back to this scum.

“Wow, did you think of that line all by yourself? Tell me; why did someone as…’rough and tough’ as you need a posse of five other men to help you assault those women? I mean, if that’s what they all wanted, why use a baseball bat to hold them down?”

Morrisen smirked, picked up his chair and sat down triumphantly in it. “Sometimes, I like to spread the love around, ya know what I’m saying? Those other guys may be my bros, but they don’t got game like I do. It’s kinda like doing some community service.”

Devon sat down across from him. “Oooh, so you’re the good guy in all of this, helping your bros out. How exactly do you help them?” she asked, leaning on her elbows on the table.

It took about another 30 minutes to get the whole story out of Morrisen. Once he started talking, he didn’t stop. Novak, to her credit, had taken out a small recorder, informing Morrisen that his conversation would be recorded. He didn’t seem to care; actually, he seemed to like the attention of two beautiful women listening to his assaults. By the time he had finished, and Devon and Novak left the room, they both felt sick to their stomachs.

“I think I need to bathe in hand sanitizer,” Novak mumbled.

“Can I join you?” Devon replied. She gave the counselor a small smile before asking, “so, am I off the hook?”

Novak sighed. “For now, yes. I should be able to put Morrisen and his gang behind bars for quite a while. Besides, during his confession, he also indirectly admitted to the hate crime. I doubt this will go to trial; they’ll probably all plead out.”

Devon felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders. “Thank you.”

Novak gave her a long look. Devon raised an eyebrow in question, waiting for Novak to say whatever was on her chest. “Look, Devon. I…understand you have a phobia of testifying. But I want to help you through it,” Devon opened her mouth to object, but Novak continued on. “I’m not going to force you to testify, or to do anything you don’t want to. But I’d like for you to come by the courthouse one day. I think it may help you to sit in the gallery during a trial…. Or, at least come with me into a courtroom after it’s closed. No one will be there; just us.”

Devon thought about it. She was touched that Novak wanted to help her with her fear, even if it was for her own personal gain; if she could get Devon over her fear, then she’d be able to testify in later cases. But the thought of sitting in on a trial was enough to make her heartbeat faster.

“Can—can we start with the latter?” Devon asked, her voice faint. She didn’t trust herself enough to speak louder.

Novak smiled. “Of course. And I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Devon returned her smile despite herself.

[the-amazing-spider-bi]

A, I, M and X!

omg hi!!!! it’s been a while!!! how are you?

A - if i’m in love

nope! i’m not in love at the moment, in spite of the quarantine yearning brainworms. for the first time in a while though i have a crush on someone and i actually am talking to him and trying to be his friend instead of... avoiding all mentions of possible feelings. he’s really sweet, so figures, at worst, i get a cool friend. i don’t know, i think it’s called character development or something. 

I - the last time i felt jealous, and why

ok an anon asked me that one and i don’t remember the time before that so will the jury take the last time i felt severely inadequate? it was today. it’s every day. i have zoom classes and public speaking is bad enough when you don’t have to open a microphone and suddenly become the actual center of everyone’s screen. why are my classmates okay with this. i’m going to set fire to my computer 

M - if i forgive betrayal

lady, you could pour hot soup on my lap and i’d say thank you. if someone screwed me over and told me they had a very good reason though i’d probably be like. aw it’s okay you had a very good though! godspeed 

X - if i’ve done something i regret very much

alright storytime about a very dumb evening that i haven’t yet told my therapist about. so of course i’m going to tell you guys all about it

when i was a wee little emo nerd in high school i went to a costume party. for context, it was one of those parties where everyone in a class was invited, even the people who usually were kind of outcasts, even my friends and i, who were, as i mentioned, emo nerds. anyway, due to the whole emo nerdiness, none of my friends wanted to go except a much more popular girl who instantly left for her other group. 

so i was standing here, the only one on time in my luna lovegood costume that no one understood - they kept asking if i was lady gaga -, and promptly got incredibly drunk. i am talking incredible amounts of underage drinking. i was fifteen and had probably only actually had alcohol, like, twice in my life, so i didn’t know stuff like how you’re not supposed to mix it, or fill an entire glass with straight vodka, oh my god you’re not supposed to mix it with an empty stomach, oh my god.

anyway. from what i remember of the night, the following events unfolded in that order:

- i told a boy wearing leather pants “too bad you’re so desperate for your crush to like you back, since she literally couldn’t care less! you’re actually kinda cute though that’s a waste”

 - i kissed a boy who was cross-dressing as a costume (catholic school)

 - i instantly said loudly “god, i’m lucky you’re not actually a girl, or everyone would know i’m bisexual, that’d be awkward”

 - everyone knew i was bisexual. that was awkward

 - once again. it was catholic school.

 - girls quizzed me on who i found cute at school and i lied and said i found them all hot because i didn’t want to hurt their feelings and tell them they all looked too straight to be even remotely attractive to me

 - i got alcohol poisoning and had a panic attack. the other teens panicked called an ambulance 

 - my dad realizing i didn’t make curfew came to get me and found me in an ambulance where the firemen were asking me “what day of the week is it” “friday” “no the date” “guys. ask me stuff i know” 

 - my father yelled at all the other teens 

 - i spent the next month trying to convince my parents to let me change schools. it did not work. i was grounded for months but genuinely didn’t realize i was meant to be grounded until a year later

[naughty-teddy-innit]

Rehabilitation : Chap. 1 An Ed Sheeran Fanfiction

Title:       Rehab: Chapter 1

Author: @naughty-teddy-innit

Rating:  PG- No smuts for a while, but intense content?

Click here for: INTRO

CHAPTER 1

 I craned my neck, to the left slowly, and then to the right. “Mmmmmmm...” I mumble-moaned, trying to loosen and stretch my stiff muscles.  For once, I was at the tail end of day shift.  My normal hours would often take me through the night into the wee hours of the morning, but today I found myself battling piles of precariously stacked charts right into the dinner hour, and I was feeling it.  It was one of those days where I felt it necessary to knock on wood, a catch-up day we often called it, because so far, no crazy emergencies had come in. No crashes or outbreaks, no crying parents or injured children or mass tragedies.  Days like this were always a welcome relief, and exactly why I could currently be found hunched over a mountain of paperwork, rather than running around like the proverbial chicken with its head cut off. Having said all that, it was becoming super obvious that food was going to be necessary in very short order. And coffee. DEFINITELY coffee.

“Leesie, love…?”  

“Hmm??” I spun my chair around at the soft voice behind me, and smiled at the friendly face it belonged to.  Gray-haired, big brown eyes, and grandmotherly curves, Brenda had many, many years on me in this hospital.  She and I worked together often, and she was often a motherly figure to us young ones, honest to a fault with a heart of gold, and we loved her for it.

“Hey lady, what’s up?” I stood, and turned my back to the desk, shooting her a warm smile. Welcoming the chance to move my body, I stretched my arms over my head, and leaned my hip back against the curved surface.

“Well, Sweetheart…” She paused. “I was hoping I could ask you a favour?” She cocked her head to the side, and I recognized THAT hopeful look.

“When do I ever say no to you, Mama B?” I shook my head and crossed my arms with a grin, and waited for what I knew was coming.

“I’m supposed to cover a couple of shifts up in ICU this week, tomorrow bright and early, and Saturday graveyard.” She hesitated, and with that I knew exactly where I’d be found those two days.  

“Operative words being Supposed to?” I raised an eyebrow, and huffed a laugh at the knowing smirk that crossed her face.

“You know me too well!” She chuckled, and shifted her weight. “You know my Hannah’s been having a tough time now she’s at the end of this baby business, and her doctor wants bring her in for an induction tomorrow afternoon. High blood pressure and the whole nine yards. I had next week off anyway, her due date! But I need to be there for her tomorrow. I can tell ya, Nana is NOT missing this!”

“Oh!!” I couldn’t control the grin that spread across my face! She’d been waiting for this moment for months and months. “B, I got it. Go be with your baby AND your grandbaby. Do not even worry.”

“As usual, you are the BEST, Leesie. THANK YOU. Next time you need a cover, I’m at your mercy. I’ll let Mary know to update the roster!” She reached over and squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back with a firm hand and a grin. I was just glad to help out.

Even it did mean a 5 am start. Sigh.

_____________________________________________________________

 Despite the unconscionable hour that I’d been forced to set my alarm for, I actually preferred the early morning hours to the late or overnight shifts.  Something about a brand-new day, a fresh new slate waiting to be written upon.  It always put in a ready-to-go state of mind, and today was no different.

Intensive care was a whole different ball game from Emergency. There was not nearly the chaos that came through the revolving door downstairs, but the lives we cared for still hung in the balance.  ICU was where you found the patients who were not yet stable enough to move anywhere else, who needed continuous monitoring, and who were either recovering from emergency surgery or might need to be rushed to surgery, in an instant.  Visitors were restricted, and the continuous beep and wail of monitors and alarms were routine. You could feel the gravity of our unit the moment you walked through the swinging doors, I was rather proud of the fact that I was able to keep my calm and do my job well when a patient’s status deteriorated.  

Walking in, I ran through my mental checklist, readying myself for the day.  The “Day-Board”, also known as the giant whiteboard on the wall behind our central desk, listed our current patients.  Names and Chart/Unit numbers, status, room numbers, and the doctor on duty, were kept meticulously updated on this board, for the benefit of the nurses, the doctors and anyone else involved in ICU care. There was a similar board downstairs in the ER, to track our patients in a similar fashion, and no matter where I was or what area I was working in, scanning that board was ALWAYS my first order of the day (or night!).

I checked in with the clerk finishing up from the night before, and greeted the nurses on duty before signing into my workstation. My eyes swept the board as I settled into my workstation; a middle-aged dad waiting for a bypass after a massive heart attack and a little one in bad shape after a nasty fall. A young girl, only 16, had suffered a nasty anaphylactic reaction, and an elderly woman in bad shape after a stroke. Finally, I noticed, 2 of the bus crash victims from the ER. I exhaled softly, seeing their names. I was beyond relieved they were still with us.  After the scene only 48 hours prior, when they were brought in…I wasn’t sure whether they would be.

“Annaliese?”

I whirled around at the sound of my name, cheerfully greeting one of the nurses at the desk.

“What can I do for you?”

“If you could grab the order sheets from the charts, and get them all entered, that would be terrific. Dr. Collins has them all updated and ready to go, and Lord only knows, when Dr. Hendry comes on shift, everything BETTER be at his fingertips.” A sigh and smile and she continued. “You know how he is. Save yourself the trouble! Let’s see…Alison, Dr. Hamoudi, is the surgeon on-call tonight, and the Resident is on rounds, he’ll be back for shift change later. Hendry’s on call for everything else. Page him if necessary, he’s on the board.” She paused. “…I think that’s it?”

Goody. Dr. Hendry was nobody’s favourite. His ego was known far and wide as massively overinflated and a gigantic pain in everyone’s ass. Lucky for him, and for his patients, his saving grace was that he was a damn good doctor.  

“Got it and I’ll get right on the paperwork. Thanks Amy!”

“Have a great day Annaliese, thanks again for covering!”

We both heard the direct line to the OR go off, and while she dashed off to answer the call, I headed off to discreetly gather my paperwork.  Charts hung on the front of each ICU bed, and order sheets were always clipped to the front, making them easy and quick for us to find without disturbing the patients. I smiled warmly and gently at family members sitting with their loved ones, softly explaining why I was there, and apologizing for my intrusion. I could see the fear and anxiety etched on their faces, and I tried be as warm and reassuring as I possibly could.

I had gathered all but one, and the last bed was in a corner by itself.  The patient in the bed, he was still unconscious, and the usual monitors and wires and tubes crisscrossed his body. He was intubated, a tube down his throat that helped him to breathe, and when my eyes caught the beautiful, fiery orange hue of his hair against the paleness of his skin and sheets, I remembered him immediately.  The boy from the bus crash.

I didn’t figure he was as young as he looked, ashen and still against the sheets, but I couldn’t help the thought that he looked like a small boy all on his own like that. Even the sweet sprinkle of freckles across his cheeks, his delicate eyelashes…such innocence. I so hoped he’d be okay. I cocked my head and paused for a brief moment, the thought crossing my mind that I’d not seen any family? Where in the world were they? I shook my head softly, making a note to check into that when I got back to the desk.  I very quietly gathered the paperwork I needed, my eyes sweeping over him one last time, taking in the vivid colours on his arms, and rise and fall of his chest. I really hoped he’d be alr-…

“Then find me someone who CAN help me. PLEASE.”

What in the world?? I did a double take at the sudden intrusion of a deep, aggravated, British brogue emanating from around the corner, presumably at the front desk in the front of the unit.  Whoever it was, he was NOT happy.

The last thing I wanted was any of our patients or their families to be disturbed. I strode quickly around the corner, and saw one of our Care Aides standing at the desk, intimidation etched across her face at the gentleman facing her from the other side of the nurses’ station.

She looked MORE than relieved to see my face, this sort of situation was not generally a part of their job description; transporting supplies and medications, assisting patients, maybe, but dealing with distraught families or patients not so much.

“Sir?” I said softly, calmly. “How can I help you?”  

He appeared to be middle-aged; thinning gray hair, scruffy-jawed and a round middle. His arm was fully casted, and in a sling, and he appeared to have some stitches along hairline, crossing his forehead.  The thing that struck me the most through, the thing that somehow always caught me when dealing with someone in this sort of situation, was his eyes. This was a man who hadn’t slept in ages. He was obviously agitated, frustrated, exhausted…. but mainly? He was scared. I could see the stress and panic in his eyes, and I had no doubt there was likely a damn good reason for his outburst.  

“My name is Stuart. Stuart Camp.” He exhaled, and then rubbed his eyes with his good hand, tiredly. “I feel like I’ve explained this 3 bloody times since last night, but we’ll try it again.  There was a godawful crash, a bus crash, about 36 hours ago, and a young man was brought in. Edward, 26 years old.  I need to see him, I need to know he’s okay. I’ve not had a wink of damn sleep and I’m just…knackered. I…. Jesus Christ. I just need to see him. Please.”

The rules in Intensive Care generally dictated that only immediate family be allowed in to visit a patient, and usually only 1 at a time. SOMETIMES, 2. I had a feeling though…

“Are you a family member, sir? A parent? Our rules are quite strict in intensive care, we usually only-“

He cut me off. “I’m not…not really, anyway. His mum and his dad, they’re from across the pond, in England, they’re not here yet.” He stopped to catch his breath, a weathered hand rubbing at the graying scruff that covered his jawline. “They should be touching down shortly. The airports, Jesus. You’d think they’d get their heads out of their asses considering- Never mind.” He steadied himself and continued. “They’re in a right state, Imogen especially, and they’ve been told VIRTUALLY nothing. He’s alone back there. He’s not even got cousins or aunts or anyone here. Please….”

I could see the anxiety and desperation in his widened eyes, and I really, truly wanted nothing more than to help, but…

“Mr. Camp, I can only begin to imagine how awful this must be for you, I’m so sorry.  You’re not a family member, you said…?” I paused, hoping to glean some more information. “Can I ask how you know the patient? I’m afraid our confidentiality policies make it impossible for me to give out any information, if you’re not family?”

“It’s rather complicated…” He trailed off.  “We’ve…worked together for 8 years.  I’m his manager.”  He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he fought to make his point.  “Whether or not you’ve recognized him, I don’t know; right now, I’m trusting that you follow your own confidentiality policies. He’s one of the best-known singer-songwriters in the world right now. I’ve been with him from the beginning, and he IS family to me. His family is my family, in every way. I am not asking you to release any medical records or information on his health, I am simply asking to just…sit with him. Just let me watch over him until his family arrives. I can’t stand the thought of him back there alone. Please?”

Truthfully, I hadn’t really recognized the boy from the crash at all. His lovely orange hair had struck me as familiar, but I wasn’t much for social media, and most of the music I listened to was what played on the radio at whatever desk I was working at. Regardless of who he was, though, I’d never have violated his privacy.  

I was still a bit fuzzy on the particulars, but I what I wasn’t fuzzy on? Was how much this gentleman obviously cared for the red headed boy in the back. I wanted to help, I truly did.

I took a deep breath. “Let me speak to the nurse, Mr. Camp.  I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.” I smiled at him, trying to put as reassurance and warmth into the gesture as I could, and motioned toward the set of seats by the automatic entrance doors. “Why don’t you have a seat for a moment, and I’ll be right back.”

He nodded tiredly, and managed a small but grateful smile. “Thank you, Love. I appreciate it.”

 He was still sitting there when I returned about 10 minutes later; hunched over, elbows resting on his knees with his head buried in his hands.  

“Mr. Camp?” I said softly, catching his gaze as I approached. He sat bolt upright with widened eyes, obviously waiting for me to say something. “I spoke to the nurse, and she in turn checked with the Resident on call, and while we CANNOT under any circumstances release any information on his health or medical status…” I took a deep breath, allowing a small smile to play across my features at the sight of him jumping out of his chair. “We’ll allow you into the unit to be with him until his family arrives.”

I could see his whole body sag as he exhaled, and his whole head tipped forward, chin to chest for just a brief moment as he steadied himself.  “Thank you.” His voice rumbled deep, the emotion evident.  “Thank you, thank you very, very much. His Mum and Dad are due to land after lunch; I’ve just had a text with their flight update. You have my word I won’t interfere once they’re here.” He huffed a dry laugh. “Hell, I won’t interfere NOW.”

“I’m glad we could help, Mr. Camp, I really am. I’ll bring you back if you’re ready, but…you might want to prepare yourself.”  I took a deep breath, and stared him in the eyes, purposefully keeping my voice calm and soft.  “I meant it when I said that we can’t give you any information in regards to his status or injuries until his next of kin arrives. But…he is in rough shape. You need to know that.”

His eyes had been focused on me until I’d finished that last sentence, and then I could see him almost get lost in whatever was tossing and turning in his head.

“He should have been in the back of the bus. He’s a damned night owl, couldn’t sleep after the show…I was passed out on the couch in the back, and he was messin’ around with his guitar in the front.  He…” His voice trailed off, almost breaking as he gathered himself. I tilted my head and bit my lip, listening to him, letting him get this out. How terrifying it must have been. My heart hurt so badly for him. “He was right where the bloody truck hit. The sound of those ruddy loud brakes screeching woke me up, that fucking truck, smashed right into the side of the bus.  Right where he was.  Right where Michael was driving. He always loves sitting up front on the late-night drives, keepin’ Mikey company. He should have been in BED.”  He squeezed his eyes shut just for a fleeting moment, and sucked in a deep breath, like he was trying to shore himself up. He straightened up, looking me in the eye once more. “Please excuse this old man’s incoherent, exhausted ramblings; the last 36 hours have been HELL.  But he’s here. How, I don’t know, but he is, and he’s not going to be alone while he recovers from this. Doesn’t matter what he looks like right now, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well then, let me bring you to him.” I smiled softly, struck by the vehemence in his words, and the fierce determination in his eyes. I took a deep breath and gestured for him to follow me.  “It sounds like he’s very lucky to have someone like you in his corner, Mr. Camp. I’m really glad you’re okay, by the way.”

“Thank you. I know it could have been so much worse.” He looked down at my badge for just a moment, and then back up. “Annaliese, is it? Please just call me Stu. I appreciate your help and kindness more than you know.” His voice was calmer, and filled with genuine gratitude.  “Now where can I find him?”

“Bed 8.” I smiled. “And you’re very welcome. Follow me.”

 ______________________________________________________________

AUTHOR’S NOTE:  I hope you guys don’t mind the slow build and set up, but trust me, I have SO many ideas and plans simmering in my head. Hope you love it, and I’m BEGGING you for any and all feedback, replies, Asks, Anons, etc......Us writers THRIVE on it. Xoxoxoxoxo  

[abakersquest]

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX – WHERE STONE STANDS IDLE

As Polly increased power to the skiff’s engine to avoid the clasping claws of the colossal crustacean, Sho’ko spoke. “Hold fast your course, should we lose sight of the black peak, we shall not find our way again.”

“KINDA HARD WITH THE WHOPPIN’ GREAT BEASTIE ABOUT TO DICE US IN HALF!” Polly shouted while keeping the mountains lined up in her sight, despite the ship’s increased wobble at this speed.

Wally was still desperately fighting off panic when he allowed adrenaline and fear to boil up something useful in him; a plan. It was bold, desperate, and exactly the sort of ridiculous thing that had carried them this far. In a single motion he turned to face the panicked Planaetian sitting behind him. “Wistea!”

Her attention snapped to him immediately.

“How long can you make those vines of yours?”

“I-I-I.” She clenched her fist and straightened her posture to fight against rightfully present fear. “I do not know; I’ve never had to use them for anything further than fifty feet.”

“Then I suppose its time we both found out exactly how much that little bauble in your chest has to contribute.”

“Hang on!” Rozzi called out, a slight tremor in her aggravated tone. “I think you and I have been too close for too long, because I’m pretty sure I know what you’ve got planned!”

Wally’s expression was a potent blend of terror and courage, giving him a slightly crazed smile that suited someone about to do the most insane thing they’ve ever done in their entire life. And, with the way Wally’s life had gone these past few months? That was saying something. Gently, he took one of her hands, and as calmly as he could manage, asked, “If you have a better plan, I would surely love to hear it.”

The red panda’s face was a sour tapestry of regret and frustration as she silently struggled in vain.

He nodded solemnly, “I’ll take that to mean ‘best of luck out there, try very hard not to die.” He looked to everyone. “Now, here’s the plan. Wistea, you keep a vine around my waist and I’ll handle the rest. Polly when Rozzi gives you the signal you open the top of this ship so I can get out.”

“GET OUT?!” Wistea and Polly shouted in unison.

“The only way we’re getting to Krust Mountain is through him!” Wally pointed at their titanic threat just as another claw strike approached. “ROZZI!”

She clenched her fist together and called out. “OPEN IT NOW!”

The canopy popped open like the lid of a mason jar, a shimmer of mystically locked air around them keeping the wind sheer off their faces. Wistea was careful as her vines knotted themselves around Wally’s waist, confirming with a furtive nod she was ready.

Taking a deep breath was all he could to do to steady himself as he took the Flare in hand and leapt out into the open air. He hoped beyond reason what he was about to try would work. The force of the wind now pushing against his body sent him reeling backward through the sky until the vine around his waist pulled taut. In the skiff, Wistea had almost been yanked out of her seat if not for the quick and sturdy grip of Sho’ko. She grunted in courageously muted pain as Wally traveled in a bizarre arc at the end of her vines.

As his momentum began to falter and the force of wind slowed him even more, Wally flattened out his feet, centered himself as best he could and focused the flow of his magic to a place he’d never sent it before. From their view aboard the skiff, it appeared as if an explosion had suddenly engulfed the heroic wallaby. But from out of the sudden plume of flame he exploded, racing at top speed toward the inbound pincer. The Stellar Flare shone in the light of the sun, a truly dazzling sight as it caught the lip of the aggressor’s limb. With impossible strength, Wally knocked it away, the Stellar Flare ringing out like a church bell.

As the claw recoiled, so too did Wally down toward the ocean. The lifeline around his waist wrapped around the hull of the Skiff as he traveled in another broad arc toward the monster’s other offending appendage. With no other way to close the distance between the ship and it in time, Wally reared back the Flare and readied a spell. With all the fire he could muster he cried out, “DRAGON’S CALDERA!” A pillar of flame erupted outward from his sword swing and crashed against its gigantic target. The great beast shrieked; a horrible piercing noise, as it pulled its bright red claw away from the blast.

Polly called out to her passengers. “We’re getting close now! Pull him back in, Wisty!”

“Right!” she grunted, then she huffed, then she painfully strained. “I… I can’t! It-it-it isn’t working!”

Without a single word, Sho’ko moved closer and took hold of Wistea’s vines directly, pulling Wally in. As said wallaby felt the tendrils cinch around his waist with every tug, he sheathed the Flare and started to climb along the vine with hopes to meet them half way. It was then he felt an unexpected jerk.

“Oh! Oh no!” Wistea called out. “It’s snapping! That was too much too fast!”

“Wally!” Rozzi called out toward him, her voice lost in the strangeness of her own mystical barricade and the rushing air beyond.

But he could see her, in the whipping winds and uncontrollable sheer induced tumble, he caught sight of her long enough to know the threat was immediate. He steeled himself for the snap to come and held his breath as the vine finally gave way and he belonged to gravity once more. He shut his eyes, ignored his every sense and once more channeled the flame at the heart of him to burst forth from his soles. There was more focus, more shape to them than the initial explosion. A roaring cascade of focused flames pushed Wally against all natural forces and sent him racing back toward the skiff, his arm outstretched the whole way. His fingers just barely hooking onto the opened canopy, as every free hand inside quickly snatched up his wrist and yanked him inside.

To many, this would be the ideal moment to catch one’s breath, as the Skiff traversed the edge of the rocky isle atop the enormous crab at last. But Wally’s breath catching was interrupted by the firm tug Rozzi gave his shirt. “Wally,” Her voice was a readied dagger in a dark alley. “You knew you could do that, right? That whole flying trick just now is something you had ready, right?!”

Wally was silent for a moment, as it was one that might have called for a white lie. As he quickly muddled it over, he could feel her growing more frustrated with his silence. “Well,” he finally managed in his most apologetic tone. “I mean if that blue-tongued fellow could fly with his magic, there certainly wasn’t a reason I couldn’t.”

“Wally!” she bit her lower lip, clearly swore several times into it before finally letting him go. “I can’t stop you from doing things like that, can I?”

He wasn’t quite sure why, but a smile seemed to settle on his face. “If I’m honest, it’s more that you make me brave enough to try them.”

She forcibly frowned and crossed her arms. “Don’t you try’n be charming! I’m mad at you!”

Sho’ko watched the two of them curiously. “Sho’ko, marveled by the complexity of life, hopes that you find forgiveness for the bearer of the goddess’ actions. He is as he was forged by time and-”

“You’re the last thing I want to hear from!” Rozzi shouted. “You couldn’t’ve been just a wee bit more gabby about the crab that almost killed us?!”

“Sho’ko, baffled by the ever changing world, cannot explain its violent behavior. Mayhap the strangeness of this vessel alarmed the creature. It produces a terrific noise and was soaring so closely to its eyes. One did not expect it to rise at all, much less attack.”

Wistea sighed as she rubbed the dull ache from her arms as best she could. “It seems to be a sign of the times. We keep barely salvaging or losing Aspects to Kota, this may simply be another side effect.”

Sho’ko settled into his seat again watching the mountainous terrain of the island pass below. “A world loosened from its fittings shall shake like a broken wheel.”

“Huh,” Rozzi replied. “I actually got that one.”

The skiff landed on a flat stretch of stone with a little doing as the ground began to slide downward when they came in. The crab below, wounded by its bygone catch of the day, set to brood the loss within its island sized shell. When everything settled the five occupants stepped out.

“Mmm, always did like a cool sea breeze across my gills after a long time indoors.” Polly said as she stretched. “So, you’re from ‘round here huh, Sho’ko?” She looked back and forth as the seemingly barren terrain of stone. There were hardly any patches of soft ground to give even the hardiest of shrubs a chance to grow. “Really doesn’t look like much.”

“We, Guardians since the first true dawn, were set upon this great stone as its caretakers. A sanctuary whereupon God or Goddess observed those they’d sired closely. When at last they chose to retreat, we were told to maintain this place until the final days of their creation.”

“Maintain?” Wistea looked up toward the mountains. “You mean that, in all this time, you have just kept it the same.”

“Sho’ko, ever observant, has learned that those of the world beyond this isle exist in time that’s fleeting. You are all, in essence, hunters of an illusive prey and craft the world around you to help you pursue it. As we guardians are ageless, such a pursuit is unnecessary.”

“Prey?” Wally questioned. “Sounds to me you mean like you think our lives are a constant hunt.”

“Do you not go into the world and seek that which best suits you? A home, a family, a place of being, and a place to pass away alongside those you’ve met on the way to your end.”

Rozzi quietly considered what the massive crystalline fellow had said, and found a funny little thought came into the clearing of her consciousness. She hummed softly to remember the tune properly and began to quietly recite the words to herself. “Is it the wind, or is it the land, that makes the place you choose to stand. Nae Nae I say it’s hand in hand with all the folk y’love.” As she faced everyone, the surprised little smile on Wally’s face instantly erased whatever aggravation he’d made her feel. “S’what I’m named for, y’know. My father caught my mother’s notice with that silly little ditty and when I was born, they named me to fit the tune of it.”

“Rozzi, I must admit my surprise.” Wistea moved herself directly into the couple’s burgeoning moment, entirely oblivious to the atmosphere there. “I thought you didn’t like poetry.”

She frowned and folded her hands behind her head. “I said; I didn’t want any from the walkin’ boulder.”

“Well,” She smiled at them both. “At any rate, I am terribly glad you and Wally are in such fine spirits. Now you can help me tutor him on the finer points of negotiation while we make our way to the Point of Origin and ready for our sit-down with the Gods.” She shook with excitement. “I cannot believe we are actually going to converse with deities!”

“Only the bearer of the goddess will be allowed to approach the summit.” Sho’ko flatly stated. “I am to guide him to the base of the mountain where he shall begin his climb.”

A single leaf fell from the mass that framed Wistea’s face, Rozzi swore she heard her wood creak as her body slowly drooped. “Oh… Well… I suppose then I’ll have to compress my lessons for the walk over to the base of-”

Sho’ko began to walk away from the group. “You shall remain here until I return. Please follow me, bearer of the goddess.”

Wistea could only watch in empty silence as her hope to behold a deific sanctuary, even at a distance, simply walked away.

“Sorry Wistea,” Wally managed to say as he fixed his backpack and set off after Sho’ko.

Polly walked over and gently patted her arboreal friend on her forlorn forearm. “S’alright Wisty, maybe we’ll find some other temple later?”

She made a small whining noise that may have started as words in her mind.

---

If there had ever been even the vaguest definition of a road or path where Wally now walked, time had certainly done its due diligence to erase it. A slip here, a painful rock between the toes there, and he grew to understand why wallabies preferred to live on the flattest ground possible. Of course, he wouldn’t mind the rocky terrain half as much if there were anything else to focus on. To his left, a grey snowcapped mountain range. To his right, it’s possibly coquettish and demure identical twin. Ahead of him, aside from the back end of a rock giant, was the towering black peak where, no doubt, the sanctuary of the gods themselves rested. Wally certainly didn’t want to spend any time thinking about the monumental task of convincing timeless cosmic beings that any of his requests mattered in the greater machinations of the universe, so instead he did what every skilled yet humble purveyor of goods would; make small talk.

“So, Sho’ko… How’d you get your name?”

“The Great Builder arrived here, before I was what I am now. He grew tired of differentiating us by the type of stone that comprised our forms, and sought to give us all names.”

“Wait, so, are all Guardians made from different minerals and stones?”

“Correct.”

“Huh! Well that’s fascinating… But raises the question of where the other Guardians even are. Shouldn’t they be coming out to meet us?”

“We live within the mountains that stand sentry over the Point of Origin. We awake when the first light of day falls, whereupon we descend to the valley and make our way to the sanctuary above, assure it is intact, then return to our post until the next day.”

Wally looked up at him curiously. “Hang on, every morning you all climb down one mountain, then climb up another, make sure the place is tidy, and then soldier on back to your resting places?”

“Yes.” Sho’ko replied casually.

“The service industry would be perfect for you lot,” Wally muttered under his breath. When the subtle glow of his new compatriot’s eyes fell upon him, Wally recoiled slightly. “Ah, never mind that, just a little sarcasm so I don’t have to think too hard about climbing a whole mountain. Although, I suppose since you and the other guardians do it every day, there’s a decent trail.”

“Sho’ko, ever apologetic for his misgivings, reminds the bearer of the goddess that our intent is preservation. The mountain is as it always has been regardless of our constant trek to its summit.”

“One day I’ll learn not to get my hopes up.” Wally said with a slight grumble, slowing down as Sho’ko did as well.

“On the contrary, your hope must be the strongest it has ever been.” The shimmering Guardian held up his mighty arm and pointed toward a stony outcrop ahead. “I can take you no further; there is where you shall begin your ascent.”

While the stalwart wallaby studied what lay ahead of him, the corner of his eye caught sight of Sho’ko reaching a hand up to his chest. His fingers delved into his body as if he’d been made from liquid this entire time, and the brilliant core of light beyond changed as he slowly pulled a small eight sided crystal from his own diamond-like form.

“W-what is that?” Wally asked with an air of concern.

“This is the Key Stone.” He held it out to Wally, who watched the kaleidoscopic innards of the crystal dance and change color in strange yet clear patterns. “As all things begin with a single action, so too did this world. The firmament upon which we all stand was born from one point, and this gem. You must place it in its altar above to signal your presence to the gods on high.”

Wally reached out for the Key Stone and nearly toppled forward when it came to rest in his hands. The weight of the palm filling jewel betrayed its size entirely. Quickly adjusting himself to the extra heft, Wally placed it in his pack and looked toward the black peak ahead. “If I’m honest… I’m not sure I can do this. I’ve never climbed a mountain before.”

“Sho’ko, humble in his deeds, knows that fear. When the world was young, I was but soft and fragile stone, so unlike those around me. In my frailness I found the need to learn more than the others and seek my place among them with more fervor. Over time, with due diligence and patience, my body hardened and I became the strongest of my kind. This is why I was chosen to seek you out, I could best understand life beyond this place and relate to you my own search for strength. Perhaps that is why the gods made me so.”

The little wallaby considered the words of his new friend carefully, smiled bravely, nodded gratefully, and headed toward the mountain. In a few steps, Wally looked over his shoulder at him. “I’m not going to turn into a diamond version of myself or anything like that after I’m done, right?”

“I can make you no promise.”

Wally sighed, “Of course not.”

---

Polly sat on the front end of the skiff, idly kicking her feet and swaying her tail in time with some half remembered sea shanty when her sharp eyes caught sight of a glinting figure in the distance. She took up her spyglass and, with a little added enchantment, caught a clearer sight of the approaching unknown. “Hey girls! I think that’s Sho’ko!” She studied the crystalline being carefully. “But… I think somethin’ happened. He ain’t wearin’ any pants now.”

Before Rozzi could make some witty remark, Wistea shot up. “Polly you stop staring right this instant!”

Unable to keep from snickering, Rozzi hopped down off the boulder she’d chosen as ‘most comfortable’ and peered out over the distance at the shining figure, seeing something that she thought might be a trick of the light. “Hang on a tick… Wisty come here.”

The polite Planaetian turned away and crossed her arms. “I’m not going to engage in any of your lurid-”

“It’s not like that you silly bush! I just need you to check to see if…” Rozzi’s voice trailed off as she saw another glittering body erupt from the ground in the distance. “Never mind, there’s definitely more than one of those big shiny fellas.”

As Wistea finally turned to see what the others spoke of, a few more came forth. Some were sapphire blue, crimson ruby, and a myriad of other precious stones, all bearing the same shape as Sho’ko.

“Don’t suppose they’re here to welcome us,” Rozzi remarked as she carefully handled the hilt of her sickle.

Polly hopped off the skiff and squinted down at the approaching mob, amid their number she saw some strange crimson thread that moved at jagged angles in the air. They seemed to run from the backs of each of their heads to the holes they’d popped from. Before she could ask the others about it, the ground began to shake and a structure arose from behind the horde of stone. It was a narrow yet ornate tower that shone like a golden goblet, clearly more for show than defense as atop it, on a throne of jade, sat the Thorned Princess.

The flowery fiend slowly stood, watching the three of them from her ostentatious vantage point where Polly could not only see her confident smirk, but the clearly ethereal strands that ran from her hand down to the Guardians below. Somehow, stones and boulders around them began to resound with the Princess’ mocking voice.

“Well, well. I must say I am happy the two of you could make it. But, I’m afraid you’ve already missed the coronation ceremony and there’s simply no more room for you or your little guest at the celebration. I’ll simply have to have you ejected by my loyal guards.” With a simple, barely seen gesture from their enslaver the Guardians rushed toward them. The sound was something akin to glass and ceramic thrown together into half a dozen barrels and rolled down a rocky hillside followed by an anticlimactic collision with a thick bush at the bottom. Mystical remnants smoked from the Planaetian’s palms as she stared up defiantly at Kota’s General.

Below them all was a thick bramble patch that had halted the charge of the Guardians entirely. They struggled and tore at the thorny branches that grew back faster than they could be broken.

Wistea shouted at the top of her lungs, “IF YOU THINK YOU CAN FIGHT US WITHOUT GETTING YOUR HANDS DIRTY, THINK AGAIN!”

At first the Thorned Princess did nothing, prompting a comment from Rozzi. “No clue if she actually heard y’say that.”

A stairwell exploded out from the ground before the trio, snaking its way through the air up to the Princess’ golden tower. The second it connected, she began to walk down. Her obsidian plated battle dress gave her an odd sort of sheen as she approached. Pitch black blades emerged from her vambraces and her pace quickened into a sprint. As Rozzi sent a torrential burst of shredding air up to catch her, the steps exploded and launched her over their heads. With unnatural grace she turned in the air and landed ready to strike.

The dark blade clashed with Rozzi’s waiting sickle, wind blasting off the collision. The Thorned Princess’ crimson eyes stared down at the red panda with a sneering superiority that only made Rozzi push harder. While the force of her magic caught some of the raw power behind the Princess’ arms, it wasn’t enough to win the test of strength. Rozzi was silently grateful when a bamboo spear shot out between them and nearly took the top of her opponents head with it.

The Thorned Princess jumped back and, with an air of total confidence, spoke. “My but this is interesting, the Flarebearer’s vassals and no sign of that adorable little ball of pillow stuffing or the dashing daddy’s boy? Oh, that’s right… He followed in his father’s footsteps and died pointlessly, yes? A shame, I was looking forward to making a throw rug out of him.”

Rozzi and Wistea said nothing, merely staring her down.

“Ooh, such stern faces of barely constrained contempt and anger.” Mock scandal contorted her strange face. “I bet you’re both loaded with the most violent fantasies about me.”

“Actually,” Rozzi began with a happy tone. “I was thinking ‘I bet she’s so dumb she can’t even count to three.’”

The Princess recoiled slightly in confusion. “What?”

A white hot dagger, bright as the sun, almost exploded through her chest as she barely realized she’d lost track of Polly entirely. The Light Mage’s invisibility slowly faded as she poured her magic into her blade and carved a blazing swath up the Thorned Princess’ torso. The strange nature of the body it cleaved through forced it to curve up and out through her left shoulder. The almost demonic screech of pain was near deafening as her right arm lashed out and knocked Polly away.

Wistea and Rozzi rushed forward to pile on more damage as the Princess struggled to keep her body from coming completely apart. With a bestial howl and the ground around her violently transforming into uncontrolled shapes, a barrier rose around her that the advancing warriors crashed into.

“Damn!” shouted Rozzi, rubbing her now bruised nose. “It’s just like back in the Silent Marsh! Wisty, can you crush it like you did last time?”

She shook her head sorely. “The bramble manifestation I used to keep the Guardians at bay would stop if I cast Emerald Coffin.”

“Ooh!” Polly said as she rushed over. “I can help with that then! See there’re these little red threads from that nasty excuse for a rose. I think I can cut’em…”

They watched Polly grab for what seemed to be nothing for a minute. They both were breathing in to say something when a glistening crimson thread appeared for a single second in Polly’s hand. It shone once more as her light enchanted dagger cut it, before fading into ethereal dust.

Wistea sounded almost awestruck as she spoke. “That… That must be what she used to control General Mycete…”

“Well then,” Rozzi almost cheered. “You best get to work Polly! Sooner we get those rock folk freed, sooner we can crack this ugly egg!”

As the Icthyite set to work, looking more like a young girl catching snowflakes than anything else, Wistea turned and stared at the opaque dome before them. “It does not make any sense.”

“Polly’s always been a bit odd. Mind you, she was raised by ol’ Blackeye, no tellin’ how that-”

“This isn’t light magic. We have seen barriers made by light magic, this is nothing like them.”

Rozzi’s ears perked up and she carefully eyed the subject of her friend’s rising distress.

“Also, we both know that the Thorned Princess is some manner of Earth Mage. All of her attacks, the stone blades… Nothing about her methods said she could make barriers like this, or somehow dominate the will of others.”

“Well Kota’s lackeys ain’t exactly what you’d call normal everyday people. Or even just people, period. Two of’em are walkin’ talkin’ suits of armor for starters. Other one’s made from gross rags.”

“Because Kota made them…” She turned to Rozzi, alarm resounding in both expression and voice. “She could give them any magic she wanted!”

The dome exploded. Shards of the magical barricade knocked the three off their feet entirely. In the center of the instant maelstrom, amid clearing mystic smoke, the Thorned Princess had just finished mending the wound in her body. She stared down at her opponents and spoke with all the conviction of a bloodied knife. “If it’s of any consolation to you at this moment, I must admit that truly, truly, hurt.”

<[Chapter 35]–[Index]–[Chapter 37]>

[monawhiterose-blog]

Loneliness (Sequel to Alone)

Pairings: Eric X Oc Mature theme Summary: Sequel to Alone. Eric is determined to get Alexis back and make her fall in love with him again now that her memory has been erased, but it’s not easy to fall for someone you barely know. (AU)

Chapter 1

It was in the wee hours of the morning and Four was nursing his third cup of coffee when the image of Eric traipsing through the brush appeared on one of his monitors and Four found himself talking to his former leader through the screen, as he often did.

“Where are you going, Eric? The Divergent city is the other way.” He said, pointing to the right with his thumb.

As if he actually heard Four speak, Eric looked directly into the camera and gave him the finger as he passed by. Four couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face.

A year ago Four’s world had turned upside down. Jeanine had won the war and quickly injected everyone within the Faction system while the Bureau could do nothing but sit back and watch it happen, effectively cutting him off from his old life, and the girl he loved chose to take the Abnegation serum and leave for good when she found out about Eric’s betrayal.

Except, Four didn’t believe David’s story about Eric trying to kill him when confronted about his involvement with Jeanine because Eric was the best shot he’d ever seen and there was no way he’d miss at point blank range. No, he knew there was another reason why Eric was in the fringe and Alexis left without saying good-bye, and he faked his unwavering belief in David so he could keep an eye out for the truth.

It took a month before Mark finally mentioned about the fact that Duncan gave Alexis a vaccination for her panic attacks before the assault and finding it odd, since he knew for a fact that it didn’t work, Four had a talk with him.

His suspicions were quickly confirmed and over time he slowly found others who were growing doubtful themselves when David did nothing to stop Jeanine and helped to keep track of his plans while Four and Mark kept tabs on Eric and Alexis until they could finally make a move.

Alexis was doing well within the Divergent City, getting a job and apartment, but Four felt like she was sad. Even though she had friends, she often spent her leisure time reading old romance novels left over from before the Purity War that she borrowed from the library instead of going out and socializing. It was like her heart knew she was missing something and wouldn’t be able to find it there so she looked for it in a fantasy world.

Eric on the other hand was proving to be an even bigger badass than when he was in Dauntless. He quickly learned to spot the cameras early on so it wasn’t very often they saw him, but when they did it was always in a small settlement of GD’s asking for directions.

Only Divergent had ever been to the Divergent city, so Four wasn’t surprised at their lack of knowledge of its whereabouts, but it was clear Eric was beginning to get frustrated.

Before, whenever he managed to find hostile GD’s, he’d quickly end the argument by knocking them out and moving on, but lately he’d engage in an all-out fight with them, allowing them to get in a hit or two before he’d pummel them into the ground and rumor of him was quickly spreading throughout the fringe so that eventually no one wanted to cross him.

It wasn’t those rumors that were stopping the Divergent from going after him though. David refused to let them, citing that Eric would die out in the wilderness long before he’d ever reach Alexis, because it was obvious that’s where he was going, but a year later he was still going and closer to her than ever.

The plan now was to wait him out and if he did make it they would stop him at the gates. Knowing Eric, Four doubted the plan was going to work, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Hey.” Mark said as he sat down next to him.

Four leaned back in his chair and stretched with a yawn before replying, “Hey.”

“Long night?” Mark asked, nodding to the screen.

“Yeah. This is the first glimpse of him in a week.”

“What are we going to do when he does finally head the right way?” Mark asked, stifling his own yawn.

“We’ll keep an eye on him and as soon as he gets near enough we’ll send Amar to get them, but we’ll need to discredit David before we can bring them back here.”

“And just how do we plan to do that?” Mark wondered.

“I’m working on it,” Four replied and drained the last of his drink, “but first I need another coffee. *** Eric’s POV

“About fucking time.” Eric grumbled to himself as he spotted the tall fence of the Divergent City off in the distance.

He knew it was the right one this time by the large number of armed trucks waiting for him outside of it when all the others had nothing in the form of protection whenever he approached.

David was not kidding when he said Eric would never reach this place on foot, and he’d be right if he was talking about anyone else, but despite the fact this city was on the opposite side of the country from Chicago, Eric made it. Now all he had to do was get inside, unnoticed, and find Alexis.

Would she look familiar to him after all this time? Would she even be the same person with all her memories gone? So many questions ran through his mind his nerves were beginning to get the better of him. With a deep breath he double checked the ammo in his guns and came up with a plan.

It wasn’t going to be easy getting in. He had no authority here to just order someone to let him in and the entire Bureau knew who he was so he’d be spotted in no time if he tried to blend in; his only choice was to climb the wall.

Eric was checking the fence for blind spots in the cameras at a safe distance from the gate and guards when he was surprised by someone walking up on him.

“I hope you’re not planning to climb it, Eric.” Amar said behind him.

Eric spun around at the sound of his voice and whipped his gun out of the waist of his pants, aiming it at his old colleague with amazing speed.

“Hey man, I’m unarmed and I’ve been looking for you.” Amar said as he froze; his arms up in surrender.

“I bet you have.” Eric growled back at him, clicking the safety off his gun.

“No, listen. I’m with Four, not David and we’re trying to help you get Alexis out.” Amar explained.

“Four?” Eric repeated, his resolve to shoot Amar wavering. He narrowed his eyes at the other man in distrust. “Does he want you to steal her away from me as soon as I’ve got her and then shoot me in the back?”

“Why would we do that?” Amar sounded perplexed by his question.

“Revenge. He was in love with Alexis too and I’m the reason she was taken away from both of us. Not to mention that it’s apparently my fault you two almost died on that train so forgive me if I’m a little sceptical about you wanting to help me.” Eric said, his gun still aimed at Amar’s head.

Amar shook his head and took a brave step forward. “We know it wasn’t you. Since the night you left, David has been acting weird. He wouldn’t let us come after you and he wouldn’t let us stop Jeanine either. Four’s trying to get to the bottom of it so we can take him out of power.”

“Why don’t I just save you the trouble by telling you?” Eric arrogantly offered. “When David realized her serum could help him control the unruly GD population, he told her about our attack so she could get her hands on Alexis. He wants her to use that serum in the Factions as a testing group, see how it works, before he distributes it to the other cities.”

Amar’s eyes widened. “How did you find this out?”

“It came out of the horse’s mouth before he shot himself to put the blame on me.” Eric replied.

“Shit, Eric. Why didn’t you tell us this earlier?! You don’t know what she’s done to the city with that serum!” Amar said, completely forgetting about the gun pointed at him and began pacing.

“She has almost everyone living like the Factionless. Taking the best of everything from food, clothes, and luxury items for herself and Erudite while the rest of them are so brain washed that they’re okay starving. Dauntless has it a little easier though, in repayment for their loyalty to her and for their protection against the real Factionless. They still have free will and often try to attack Erudite, but they’re unorganized and poorly equipped that they always fail.” He explained.

“The Factions aren’t my problem anymore.” Eric ground out. He didn’t care what happened to them. They turned their back on him, just like the Bureau did and he didn’t plan on going back to either of them.

Amar stopped pacing and regarded Eric with disappointment. “They should be. You might have no one left, but Alexis does and her family is starving along with the rest of them.”

A stab of guilt shot through Eric’s chest at the mention of the Morgans and he lowered his gun. “Fine. How are you going to get me in?”

A smile slowly slid on Amar’s face as he said, “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He rubbed his hands together in excitement and said, “We’re going to pretend you’re a new Divergent being added to the city so they let us through the gate. From there you can find Alexis and use your skills of persuasion to get her to come with you to meet me back at the gate at midnight. We’ll steal away in the night and camp out until Four says it’s all safe at the Bureau. With the info you gave me about David, it shouldn’t take too long to arrest him.”

The plan sounded like it would work and Eric nodded, eager to get inside and see Alexis’ face again. He didn’t intend to follow through with Amar’s second half of the plan though, because he no longer trusted anyone besides himself and Alexis.

His plan was to use Amar to get inside, find Alexis and convince her to leave with him, slip past Amar and the Divergent and go somewhere where no one would ever find them. The hardest part about it was getting Alexis to believe him.

Eric tucked his gun away and followed Amar back to the gate, but mid-way there he realized the one hole in the plan and stopped.

“Wait.”

Amar turned back and gave him a confused look. “What?”

“They’re going to recognize me if we just walk up there.” He replied.

Amar rolled his eyes and got close enough to tug on Eric’s beard. “Have you seen yourself lately? I can barely recognize you with the caveman thing you’ve got going on.”

Eric scowled and pulled away. “I’m sorry I haven’t had access to a bathroom recently enough for you.”

“No, it’s good. It means we can just walk up to the gate and not worry. No one’s seen your face, except Four, since you disappeared.” Amar said and Eric supposed he was right. They kept walking and Amar kept talking.

“Some info about the city: this place isn’t like the Factions, okay? Here everyone gets jobs based on skill and desirability. Like Alexis, she works as a secretary to a lawyer because she had experience working in an office while in Amity and it was the only job she was interested in applying for. No one is limited to a certain type of job based on their aptitude here.

“People don’t live in compounds. They have separate houses and apartments that they each choose to live in based on what they can afford to pay for.

“Luxury items and essentials, like food, are not evenly distributed either. If you want it and have enough money to pay for it, then you can have it. Got it?” He asked Eric, who grunted in reply.

The gate wasn’t as far away as he originally thought and they reached it in no time. Eric subconsciously fingered the knife hidden underneath his sleeve as they approached the countless Divergent who stood on guard and Amar joyfully greeted them as they passed by with minimal looks of inquiry.

The man at the gate grinned at Amar as they drew closer and said, “Hey, Amar, who’s your friend?”

Amar clapped Eric on the shoulder and replied with a wink, “This is Clarence. He’s coming home from a visit with his family back in Birmingham, Alabama.”

“I see.” The guard said with a smirk. “Had a long journey have you Clarence?” He asked, taking in Eric’s filthy appearance.

“Yes, sir. My car broke down and this kind gentleman offered me a ride home. Really looking forward to getting back and having a nice long shower.” Eric said, attempting to sound like he belonged.

“That’s quite understandable, Clarence. Go on in and I hope you had a good trip.” The man said and punched in a code on the door, which Eric committed to memory for later use.

Amar gave the guard a salute and followed Eric inside the city and down a few blocks to an area that Eric knew was camera free.

“Clarence?” Eric asked, wishing his partner had picked a better name.

“Sorry, it was the first name that came to mind, but it worked didn’t it?” Amar apologized.

Eric rolled his eyes and said, “Now what?”

“Now you find Alexis and meet me later. She works late most nights so you should find her there easy enough and if not she only lives a few blocks away.” Amar said and gave him the address to her workplace before turning back for the gate.

Eric didn’t bother to watch him go and immediately searched for her building. The city as a whole looked similar to Chicago with all its’ deteriorated buildings in the distance but the relatively small area around him was brand new with smoothly paved roads and sidewalks to accommodate the small population within.

The sun was going down by the time he found it and he could see movement in the windows as people walked by. It was hard to make out detail from his position in the bushes but he thought he saw her, a glimpse of a girl in a purple dress with her dark hair tied up in a high ponytail, and his heart sped up in anticipation. Not wanting to miss her as she left, Eric found a good spot to sit out of sight of the cameras and waited.

[jalapeno-princess]

What if I never love again?

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst, Lovers to Ex’s, smut (If you are a soft Mark stan, I suggest you stay away this is a sad one) 

Warning: Intended for 18+ audience

Word Count: 9.1k

Summary: Your relationship with Mark has been on the rocks lately so you decided if it would be best to end things with him before it would get worst. Since it was your last night together, Mark wanted to make the most of it and made love to you one last time.

A/N: Based on the song “All I ask” by Adele but I got inspired by Bruno Mars’ version when writing this. I didn’t meant to get all in the feels but I hope you all enjoy!

I will leave my heart at the door I won't say a word They've all been said before you know So why don't we just play pretend Like we're not scared of what's coming next Or scared of having nothing leftLook, don't get me wrong I know there is no tomorrow All I ask isIf this is my last night with you Hold me like I'm more than just a friend Give me a memory I can use Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do It matters how this ends 'Cause what if I never love again?

When he walked in to your shared apartment after a long day of work, he wanted nothing more than to lie down and go to sleep. Mark was exhausted. He’s been working overtime for the last few weeks and it was taking a toll on both his mind and his body. Little did he know, it was also taking a toll on your relationship. However, although he was oblivious to the fact that your relationship was no longer what it used to be, he wasn’t surprised when he saw some of your luggage leaning up against the wall. He knew it was coming. You were leaving him, and he was aware that there was nothing he could do about it. 

The two of you have been distant for the last three months with neither of you knowing where it all went wrong. It came out of no where and no matter how much you both claimed to love each other, love was just not enough anymore. You no longer acted like a couple. If anything, your relationship felt like a chore. 

The two of you fought more often over such minuscule stuff. The dirty dishes left in the sink, him leaving the toilet seat up, not picking up after your dog Milo and no longer telling you where he was never really used to bother you. But as the days went by, simple tasks he failed to do began to frustrate you more and more. Then came the lack of intimacy. It wasn’t just the lack of sex. Sex wasn’t everything in your relationship, although whenever the two of you did make love, it was always a mind blowing experience. You and Mark were known to be very clingy. There was one point in your four year relationship where neither of you could keep your hands off of one another. Your friends had to sit in between the two of you whenever you’d have outings just to prevent the two of you from touching each other so much. These days, you’d get a kiss on the forehead if you were lucky; and what upset you, was the fact that he didn’t seem to be bothered by the distance. 

He seemed to be fine with the fact that your relationship was not what it used to be. It was common for couples who have been together for a while to be independent sometimes, but the current state of your relationship and the way it was falling apart had nothing to do with independence. Mark took a couple of seconds to breathe and take everything in before making his way in to your room. When he walked in, his eyes immediately landed on your tiny frame. It was then in that moment that he realized how much weight you’ve lost. He hated the thought of your relationship being the reason for your unhappiness. 

He stood there, watching you as you packed and he could feel his heart break with every piece of clothing you folded in to your suitcase. Once he heard you sniffle, that was it for him. 

“Hey.” You turned around in shock. You weren’t expecting him to come home so early. He had a tendency for coming home in the wee hours of the morning. That’s why you decided to start packing your things. You didn’t want to leave. You’ve been contemplating your decision for weeks now; but you could no longer stay in a relationship you weren’t happy in anymore. As much as you loved Mark and wanted things to work out between the two of you, you knew things were going to remain the same even if you were to stay. 

How could you stay when the spark was no longer there? When looking at him no longer sent butterflies to your tummy? When hearing him call your name no longer sent fire to your bones and his touches no longer sent shivers down your spine? There was no point in staying in a relationship where your hearts weren’t completely in it anymore. You didn’t know what he was feeling. Mark always had a hard time communicating his feelings. Especially when it came down to your relationship. So you could never tell what he was thinking or what exactly was on his mind. 

“Hi.” He slowly walked over to you and motioned towards your suitcase. 

“Where are you going?” Although he wasn’t one to be vocal and to speak up about things that were bothering him, you could always read him by his facial expressions. There was a hint of pain in his eyes followed by curiosity. The sight of him looking so sad broke your heart even more than it already was. Mark was a very sensitive person. You’ve seen him cry many times during the duration of your relationship. One time, the two of you were watching Moana and before you knew it, you felt something wet drip on to your shoulder. When you went to see what it was, you smirked at the sight of Mark’s eyes tearing up. His sensitivity was one of the things you loved about him. He was extremely soft, very kind with the biggest heart. 

You missed the boy you fell in love with all those years ago. As the years went by, time cruelly turned him in to a man you could hardly recognize. Although you’ve seen him cry many times, you’ve never seen him cry over you. He never really had a reason to. Everything was going so well between the two of you. You were the picture perfect couple that all your friends and even some of your family members were envious about. Hell, your mom started planning your wedding only three months after you and Mark started dating. Unfortunately, it seems that all good things come to an end and your relationship seemed to be one of them. 

“I’m leaving you.” The quiver in your voice didn’t go unnoticed to him and he felt as if someone stabbed him in the chest once those three words left your lips. It was obvious you were leaving, but he wasn’t going to let you go without knowing the reason. 

“Why?” You noticed him sink down on his knees and made his way next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him trying to reach out for you but pulling back before getting to do so. A huge part of you wanted him to pull you in to his embrace while rocking you back and forth and telling you that things were going to be okay. That he would try and fix your relationship and that he didn’t want you to go. But it was too late. The damage was done and there was nothing he could say or do to change your mind. 

“You don’t love me anymore. Our relationship isn’t the same. It’s suffocating me. I’m not happy Mark. I haven’t been happy for months and I know you haven’t been either. So why are we continuing to set fire to an already put out flame? Why are we allowing ourselves to waste our time in a relationship that practically no longer exists? We hardly ever see each other anymore and when we come home, it’s like we’re strangers. We don’t acknowledged each other’s presence, we don’t kiss, hug, hell I can’t even remember the last time we sat down and actually talked. I tried to lie to myself; couples go through rough patches all the time. It’s only natural. But this rough patch has been going on for months Mark and it doesn’t seem to bother you. It’s been killing me but you obviously aren’t phased by how we’ve been acting towards one another. I’m tired Mark. I can’t continue living like this. It’s affecting both my mental and physical health and even my work ethic. My boss threatened to fire me the other day if I didn’t get my shit together and that’s why I made the decision to leave.” 

You released a frustrated sigh before continuing where you left off from. It felt like a huge weight fell from your shoulders as you told him everything you were feeling. You couldn’t help but let a few tears fall from your cheeks. Now that Mark was there and sitting right next to you, it was finally hitting you that you were leaving him. That once you packed up all your things and left the apartment, there was no going back. Mark would no longer be in your life and the idea made you want to throw up, but there was nothing you could do. If the two of you were to continue your relationship and pretend like nothing was wrong, like you weren’t slowly dying on the inside, then you were going to lose yourself completely. 

A life without Mark was one you never wanted to live. He was your everything and you were sure that he was the man you wanted to settle down and spend the rest of your life with. Whenever you heard the word forever, Mark would always pop up in your mind. Now the word felt bitter on your lips and the longer you stayed in the same room with him, the more you felt like you would suffer a panic attack. As you were about to put one of your blouses in your suitcase, you felt Mark’s fingers wrap around your wrist, preventing you from packing away your clothes. 

“Mark—“ 

“You wore this blouse on our first date remember? I was so nervous because I wanted everything to be perfect. I still had a hard time believing that you actually wanted to date me and that you said yes. Jackson wouldn’t hear the end of it when I told him you said yes to going on a date with me. God, you looked so beautiful that night. Your hair was curled so nicely and you weren’t wearing any make up yet I felt like you were the most ethereal being I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” You didn’t even realize that he moved closer towards you until he turned you around and placed some of your hair behind your ear.

“I planned our first date out as soon as you said yes. The idea of finally making you mine after months of crushing over you felt like a dream. I didn’t know what you liked nor did I know where to take you. It was Jinyoung who reminded me that the location meant nothing. As long as I was with you, I didn’t care where we went, what we ate or what we did. But seeing that breathtaking smile of yours when you saw the picnic I set up for us at the beach made all my worries and negative thoughts disappear.” 

The memories from your first date together came rushing back like a freight train and you couldn’t help but softly giggle at the thought of his clumsy Mark was. You gave him an A for effort as he tried to impress you with corny pick up lines and he even tried to feed you because he felt like it was romantic. Unfortunately, most of the dinner he prepared ended up either on your lap or on the blanket, but you both had an amazing time nonetheless. You took this time to look up at him and your heart felt as if it was being ripped apart in to a million pieces. Were you really going to leave this beautiful man sitting in front of you? 

Even if things were no longer the same between the two of you, waking up next to him made you feel safe. Mark’s arms were your home and God, you were homesick. But you’ve been homeless for months now and even if the two of you tried to fix things, nothing would go back to the way they used to be. 

“I don’t—I can’t—where did you even get the idea that I am no longer in love with you y/n? I know we haven’t been on the best of terms lately, but that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. I love you with every fiber of my pathetic being. I’ve always loved you and I’m always going to love you. Fuck. I can’t ever seem to stop loving you, the love I have for you only gets stronger as the days go by. I don’t know what I would do without you. Please y/n, rethink your decision. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I know it’s probably too late, I broke you beyond repair. Look at you. You look exhausted. Broken. You’re a ghost living in your body and I’m so fucking sorry that things ended up this way. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt you. I would rather die before causing you any pain but look where we are. We’re strangers and I know it’s my fault we’re like this so I know I’m the only one who can fix it. Please, please, please. Let me fix things. Let me make it work, you and I both know I’m not letting you go that easily. Tell me what I can do to stop you from leaving. I’ll do anything. I’ll quit my job, I’ll drop all my friends, I’ll do whatever I have to do in order to make you happy again and to fix our relationship. I’m not losing you y/n. Please baby, give us one more chance. You’re my person y/n, I love you.” 

Your mind was so clouded up with his words that you failed to notice him pull you on to his lap as he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in to your neck. You’ve missed this. You’ve missed the feeling of his warm embrace. You missed being held by him, being adored by him, being protected by him, being loved by him. His words were affecting you in ways you didn’t think were possible. This is why you decided to pack before he came home because you knew there was no way you’d be able to leave if he asked you to stay. If he had the right words to promise you that things would get better, then you would stay. 

Hearing him bring up your first date made this entire situation more difficult for you. He still cared, that you know was true. If he no longer cared, he wouldn’t have remembered what you wore that day nor would he have reminisced on that day in it’s entirety. Hearing him sniffle against your neck sent an unsettling sensation to your chest and you hated that you were doing this to him. However, he needed to feel the pain and the suffering you went through in these last few months. When he felt you place a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, he was confident that you were going to give him another chance. That was until you got up from his lap and returned back to folding your clothes. 

“So that’s it? You’re going to disregard my words, disregard my feelings and the fact that I want to work things out? I don’t want anybody but you y/n. If you leave me tonight, I promise you I’m going to give up on love completely. There’s no point in being in love if it’s not with you. Are you really going to let four years, some of the best years of both our lives go down the drain? You claim that you still love me, but you’re ripping my fucking heart out and stepping on it in front of me like it means nothing to you! Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me anymore. Tell me that you’re fine being without me. That breaking up with me is what you think is best for us, then I’ll let you go. If you can honestly tell me that you no longer care for me or have any feelings for me, then there’s nothing I can do about it. But I know you. I know every little thing about you. I know you like the back of my hand y/n. Fuck, I know you better than I know myself.” 

He hesitantly stepped towards and when he noticed you weren’t moving away from him, he continued. “I know you’re unhappy. So am I. You don’t think I haven’t noticed we aren’t what we used to be? The distance fucking sucks y/n and I hate that I don’t know when, why or how we even got like this but that doesn’t matter. I’m sorry you’re so sad, and I’m sorry I’ve been a shit boyfriend. You deserve nothing but happiness y/n. You’re not going to find it if you were to leave. I don’t mean to sound narcissistic, but you need me just as much as I need you. If it’s time and space that you need, then I’ll give it to you. But please, don’t give up on us. Don’t give up on me. I love you. I love you so fucking much baby. Please.” 

You were practically a mess at this point. The tears were running down your face like a dam and you had no intentions on wiping them away. Every word that fell from his lips felt like a punch to the face and before you could even process your actions, your lips were on his. This kiss was rough, as soon as he came to the realization of what was happening, he was quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pulled you as close to his chest as possible. It felt amazing. 

The two of you haven’t kissed like this in months and it felt like your entire body was in flames. He licked and sucked on your bottom lip while grazing his thumb against your hip bone. The moans and soft curses that fell from his lips sent warmth directly to your core and you were mad at yourself for letting lust take over you. But if this was going to be your last night together, you wanted to make the most of it. 

“Mark.” He continued smashing his lips against yours while biting on your lip, asking for entrance and hummed in curiosity to get you to continue. “I’m still leaving you.” You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt when he pulled away abruptly, but you couldn’t blame him. It was you who initiated the kiss, so it was understandable that he was confused to hear that the kiss didn’t mean what he hoped it did. 

“Then why the fuck would you kiss me? You’re leading me on and made me think that you’re giving us another chance only to tell me that the kiss meant nothing? What the fuck did I do to hurt you so badly that you turned in to this emotionless version of yourself? Is this what you want? You want me to suffer don’t you? How many times do I have to apologize and beg for you to put some thought in to this? I’m not playing around y/n. You better tell me what you want now, or I’ll leave you to it.” You took in his angry expression and shivered at the sight. In the many years that you’ve known him for, Mark wasn’t one to get upset all too often. 

Since he was very soft spoken, he never made it known that something was bothering him. However, he was bad at hiding his facial expressions. One look in his eyes and you knew he was pissed off. There was one occasion where his friend BamBam crashed his motorcycle, his most prized possession and although he told the younger boy that it was okay, you knew by the way his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched that he was outraged. You reached out for his arm and winced when he yanked it away from you. 

“Don’t you dare act like the victim here and try to pretend that you didn’t just fuck me over. I got it already y/n. We’re over. We’re done! Fine! That’s what you want, I have to learn to accept it but stop saying one thing and doing another. It’s not fair for either of us. Okay? I wish you the best with your life and I’m always going to love you. Don’t you ever forget that.” Before he could walk out that door, you gently called out his name. 

“I don’t want to leave you.” He released a frustrated sigh but stayed in his place, as if he wanted to hear the rest of what you had to say. 

“Y/n please don’t start—“ 

“I mean it. I don’t want to leave you Mark.” He turned around to face you and crossed his arms to prevent himself from reaching out to you. He didn’t know what you were thinking. Mark could read you like an open book. He knew when you were tired, hungry, bored, he knew when someone said something that upset you and he knew when you were about to cry. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to read you or your body language as of right now so he didn’t know what your next move would be. He wasn’t sure whether or not to put his guard up. 

“Then don’t.” You let out a sarcastic chuckle that sent a chill down his spine. It was obvious that you were no longer the happy-go-lucky college freshman he fell in love with all those years ago and he hated this cold person you turned in to. 

“If only it was that easy. If I had another choice, do you really think I would’ve packed up all my things with the intent of leaving? I’ve contemplated this for weeks Mark. It wasn’t an overnight decision. I had to write down the pros and cons of leaving. There were more pros then cons. I’m not myself anymore Mark. I have to leave you to find myself again. Okay? Maybe one day, if the universe feels like we are meant to be together, then we’ll find each other again. I have no doubt in my mind that you and I are soulmates. We need to live without each other to realize just how much we need one another.” 

He brought his fingers up to the bridge of his nose and pinched it out of frustration. You were right. The only way the two of you would be okay again is if you spent time apart in order to realize you can’t be without the other person. “Fine. If that’s what you feel will help bring us together again, then I just have to go along with it. But if I go along with your wishes, you have to go along with mine.” He motioned for you to walk over to him and immediately pulled you back against his chest. “I want you hold me. Hold me as tightly as you can. Like you’re never going to let me go. Like I’m not going to wake up to an empty bed to—tomorrow morning.” Hearing his voice crack as he came to the realization that this was actually happening was heartbreaking. You squeezed him as hard as you could and left chaste kisses all around his face. 

The two of you stood there holding each other for what felt like hours. You wanted to hold him and be held by him for as long as time permitted you to do so. However, as you were about to continue your ministrations, he gently gripped your chin and lowered your face so that you were eye level with him. 

“I want to make love to you tonight. Is that okay?” You nodded quickly and he didn’t hesitate to pick you up by the back of your thighs and hoisted you up against his knee. He began to attack your collarbone with his lips all the while guiding you on top of the bed. He brought his knee in between your thighs and the feeling of the rough material from his dress pants against your core sent shivers down your spine. 

Mark started to run his hand back and forth along your thigh and continued to grind himself against your clothed entrance in order to get any sort of friction against his growing erection. His lips were hot against yours and his tongue was roughly attacking every corner in your mouth. He made it aware that he was definitely not going easy on you tonight. Mark wasn’t sure when he would be able to have you like this again, or if he would ever be able to love on your body like this again, so he wanted to make a memory the two of you would never forget. 

“Tell me what you want y/n.” You let out a wanton moan as he dragged his fingers agonizingly slow along your soaking folds. 

“You, I want you.” To your dismay, he stopped his movements altogether and softly caressed your cheek. 

“But you’re leaving me.” You were sure that the way he was looking at you, with tears forming in his eyes like a child who just got their favorite toy taken away from them was going to stay in your mind forever. 

“Mark, please don’t start.” He released a frustrated grunt before lowering himself on top of you and kissing you all around your face. 

“I’m sorry. Let me give you a reason to stay baby.” Mark was quick to remove your shirt and his fingers unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere across the room. “Such pretty titties. How did I go so long without them?” You giggled softly before your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head once he brought one of your breasts inside of his mouth. Breast play was one of your favorite parts of sex and Mark was always so generous when it came to loving on your beautiful mounds. His mouth was warm against your nipple, licking and swirling around the hardened bud while he pinched and twisted your other nipple with his fingers. Your hands absentmindedly made their way in to his hair, gently tugging on it the longer he spent sucking on your breasts. 

“Mmm—so good. Please don’t stop.” He continued his ministrations and you were so focused on him playing with your tits that you failed to notice his hand leave your nipple and make it’s way down to your clit. Feeling him pinch and flick your nub sent a pleasurable sensation to your core and you couldn’t help but release a breathy moan at how good it all felt. He yanked off both your pants and your underwear while he brought his fingers in to your cunt and began to pump them at a rough pace, not giving you any time to adjust or get comfortable. His fingers felt so good in your tight and velvety walls and you were sure by the way it felt and from past experiences that you could come by just his fingers alone. But that’s not what you wanted. 

If this was under different circumstances, you would want him to take time loving on your body like he used to. However, you needed to be one with him. You wanted him inside of you. Mark made it obvious that he had his plans of how tonight was going to go with the way he was taking control of everything but you wanted to do things your way. 

“Mark—as good as this all feels—mmm fuck—I need you inside of me. Now.” He pulled himself away from your chest and left a few kisses there before reconnecting your lips together but his fingers still had yet to leave your folds. 

“I want that too baby, but you have to be patient. I want to have you in all the ways that I possibly can. I’m going to eat this pretty pussy of yours, you’re going to choke on my dick as I force it down your tight little throat and then I’ll fuck you like my life depends on it. Got it?” You found yourself nodding at his command only because he sounded so sexy whenever he was rough and dominant with you. As he made his way down to your core, he started leaving wet, sloppy kisses all along your body and even began to make his mark with a couple of hickeys here and there. He ran his fingers alongside your hips and soon you felt his hot breath against where you needed him the most. To your dismay, he began to tease you, biting on the inside of your thighs and massaging them while kissing just about your clit. 

You knew exactly what he was doing and as much as you wanted to shove his head against your entrance so that he could relieve the burning sensation that was building in your tummy, you knew not to stop him from what he was doing. After a few moments of taking his time in dragging his hands along the lower half of your body, he finally licked a stripe along your folds earning himself a soft moan. An adorable chuckle fell from his lips as he began to eat you out like this was his last meal and the feeling made you wrap your legs around his neck. His pace was rough as he brought his tongue up and down your folds while nibbling and sucking on your clit. 

Mark was always extremely generous whenever it came to eating you out. He knew your likes, your dislikes, what could make you scream and squirm to his liking. He did whatever he could to make you sing for him. Knowing he would get you to be more vocal by doing so, he shoved his two fingers back inside of you while continuing to lick and suck on your folds. The sensation was mind blowing and you wanted him to both stop, and to go faster. Feeling you tug on his hair as he continued loving on your soaking pussy made him go even faster. One of Mark’s biggest weaknesses was hair pulling. Whenever you’d pull on his soft, curly locks as a way to control your burning desire, the sensation would send chills down his spine. 

It was obvious that you were close, your throaty moans and the way you were looking at him was proof enough that you were close to losing it and Mark took that as a sign to go all in. “M—Mark. Oh my God Mark—just like that. Your tongue and your fingers feels so good—I’m so close. Please—I want to come so badly.” Right as you felt him moan against your clit, you were releasing all over his tongue and screaming out in pleasure as he lapped up all of your juices. He took a few more moments sucking you clean before making his way back up to you and brought his fingers up to your mouth. 

“Open. Now suck. You naughty little girl. Tell me how it tastes. So fucking good right? My pretty princess, are you ready to choke on me now? You made me hard just by those sounds you were making as I ate you out. Did it feel good? I need words baby.” You sucked on his fingers as seductively as you could, tasting yourself on top of them and releasing them from your mouth with a loud pop. 

“So good. It felt and tasted amazing. You’re always so good to me Mark. I missed having your fingers inside of me. Let me take care of you now.” He didn’t even have to respond before you stole a sloppy kiss from the corner of his mouth and made your way down to your knees. Even from the beginning of your relationship, you always preferred giving head over receiving it. As good as Mark was to you whenever he went down on you, you loved the feeling of having his dick shoved down your throat. It was hard to explain, but you were sure having him get all rough and dominant with you was one of your biggest turn ons. Plus, hearing him grunt and groan about how good your mouth felt while he forced himself deeper down your throat always made you wet. You unzipped him from his pants and pulled them from his legs as quickly as you possibly could. 

Since it’s been so long since you’ve had him like this, you were eager to have him back in to your mouth again. A part of you wanted to tease him, you loved getting a rise out of him by only touching and stroking him because you knew how desperate he was to fuck your mouth. But this time was different. Knowing it was your last night together, you didn’t want to waste one minute of it doing unnecessary things. You placed a kiss against his clothed dick and palmed him for a few seconds just to give yourself a moment to breathe. Finally, you pulled him out of the constraints of his underwear and you couldn’t help but drool at the sight of his painfully hardened and extremely red cock. 

Mark was extremely well endowed. He was both long and thick, and although you were a firm believer that penises were extremely ugly, something about Mark’s would always make your mouth water. There were times where he had you beg to suck on his cock or to give him a hand job only because he knew how much you’d crave for it. You were quick to take it in your hand and licked a stripe against the slit earning you a soft moan. Then you began to circle your tongue around the tip knowing just how much Mark enjoyed it. You ran your thumb in between the slit as you began to lick stripes along the sides of his shaft and spit on it so it was lubricated enough to make it easier for you to pump him. As you began to bring your hand up and down his length, you looked up at him and licked your lips at the sight of him biting his bottom lip. The facial expressions he’d make while you’d suck him off were always so sexy. You continued to pump him although you knew exactly what he wanted you to do. 

“Baby—baby please. I need your mouth—let me—let me fuck your pretty mouth—ah shit.” Hearing Mark beg wasn’t something you weren’t used to. He would always beg if the situation called for it. As much as he hated being submissive, only because he loved being the one in control, he loved seeing you get rough and taking the lead sometimes. Finally after what felt like forever, you took as much of him as you possibly could in to your mouth while fondling with his balls. You could feel his tip touch the back of your throat and you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. His veins were throbbing against the sides of your cheeks and you brought your hands up to his thighs to support you as you continued your ministrations. The constant moans and curses that fell from his lips as you continued to bob your head back and forth sent warmth to your core. You loved getting to please Mark in any way that you could and hearing him admit how good your mouth felt made you mentally giggle. 

“F—Fuck. Your mouth y/n—holy shit. So wet—so warm—so tight—I’m gonna Fuck the shit out of your face now, is that okay?” The hum against his cock caused him to release a content sigh and before you knew it, his hands were at the base of your hair, tying a makeshift ponytail so that he could have a letter grip on your long locks. He didn’t give you much time to prepare yourself as he began to shove his cock down your throat even deeper than you were already taking him. You couldn’t help but choke on it, the force was too much for you to handle but you didn’t want him to stop. 

You continued to bob your head back and forth against him while sinking your nails in to the back of his thighs. His speed was relentless, it’s as if he was taking out all his anger and frustration from the thought of you leaving him on your mouth. He yanked your ponytail and pulled you off of him, making eye contact with you and you shivered at his animalistic he looked. 

“My beautiful little cockslut, how does it feel having my big cock shoved down this pretty little throat? It feels so fucking good to me. You’re so good at sucking me off baby. You look so pretty like this, so dirty. I wanna see something real quick.” Before you could ask him what he meant, he brought his finger back down to your clit and rubbed at your folds all but gently. “You’re soaking angel. Sucking my dick got you this wet? You love sucking me off don’t you? Look at me y/n. Look at me while I fuck this dirty mouth of yours.” He brought himself back in to your mouth and glided his hips full force till his tip was grazing your uvula. Seeing him throw his head back at how good you were blowing him was such a beautiful sight. You loved seeing the look of pleasure on Mark’s face as you sucked him dry. 

All too soon, you felt his warm, creamy liquid filling up your mouth and you did your best to milk him for everything he had. Once you were done, he pulled you up from off the ground and roughly brought your lips to his. “You are so fucking perfect y/n. God, what am I going to do without you?” You cupped his cheek and grazed his nose with your thumb. Although he just finished face fucking you, his worried and melancholic tone made your heart hurt. No matter how much fun you were having and how much you would miss being intimate with him; hell, just missing him in general, you had to leave him. It’s what you felt the two of you needed. Instead of allowing him to continue to make you feel guilty of breaking his heart, you pushed him down on the bed and removed his dress shirt; moaning softly to yourself when you saw his defined chest and growing six pack. 

It was obvious that the two of you haven’t had sex in a while, he was still working on getting more built the last time you had him writhing underneath you. Now, you were screwed. His arms were definitely bigger and you were excited to have him pin you down with his more toned biceps. But before you’d allow him to be on top, you wanted to give him a little treat of his own. “Let me ride.” He groaned when you got on top of his lap and hovered over him. Cowgirl was one of your favorite positions because you loved the feeling of bouncing up and down Mark’s cock and with the way he would hide himself in the crook of your neck to prevent himself from being too loud made it aware to you that he was just as much a fan as you were. 

You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before sitting right on top of his extremely hardened erection. To Mark’s dismay, you began to tease him, grinding yourself back and forth along his length but not doing anything to help the painful feeling of wanting more. His hands made their way down to your waist and he gripped gently, helping guide you back and forth before whispering gentle threats in to your ear. “Keep teasing me and I’ll make sure you won’t be able to walk for the rest of the week princess. I’m going to fuck the living shit out of you, that’s a promise.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at how vulgar his words were and you finally did the both of yourselves a favor by guiding him to your entrance. 

You brought him along your folds to lubricate him enough before finally sinking on top of him. The two of you moaned in sync at how delicious the stretch felt. It’s been so long since he’s been in you and Mark considered calling himself a born again virgin. Your walls clenched around him and the older boy felt embarrassed because he was sure that he was going to come before actually getting to move. In between your thighs was Mark’s favorite place to be and he felt overwhelmed by how tight you were. 

“Fuck—shit—shit—I’m going to need you to do something baby—move y/n—move! Ahhh—just like that princess. Bounce on me—mmmmm.” You began to bounce on his cock at such a quick pace you’d give jack rabbits a run for their money. The sound of skin on skin slapping echoed throughout the room alongside of both your moans, whines and cusses of how good it felt fucking each other. Your ass clapped against his thighs as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with every thrust. Mark was a power bottom, even if you were on top he’d never let you do anything by yourself. He pinched and slapped at your ass while bringing one of your breasts in to his mouth and harshly sucking on it. His name fell off your lips like a mantra, you couldn’t get over how amazing this all felt. 

His fingers began to twist at your nipple while he began to bring the other one in between his teeth. Your hands made their way in to his hair, gently tugging at his scalp and you continued gyrating your hips against his. To your dismay, you felt Mark grabbing at your ass and lifting you up from off of his lap. He knew you were going to ask him what he was doing, so he flipped you over and tossed you on the bed while connecting your lips together. 

“I’m so fucking close and we’ve only been at this for fifteen minutes. I refuse to come in such a short amount of time and when I do come inside this pretty pussy of yours, I wanna see your face while I do it. Fuck, I will never get over how huge and beautiful your tits are. I would suck on them all day if I could. But now, now I want to fuck your brains and blow your back out. Ready for me baby?” You nodded quickly against his neck and he took no time to line himself up at your entrance before entering you and filling you up to the hilt. You hid your face in his chest and bit down on your hand to prevent yourself from screaming out at how erotic this all was, but he yanked your hand from out of your mouth and growled. 

“So fucking tight—don’t hide those pretty sounds baby. Let everyone know whose fucking you this good. Scream my name y/n. Let the neighbors know who this pussy belongs to.” His pace was rough and very quick as he began to bury himself inside of you. The headboard started to hit up against the wall and you were sure you’d be hearing complaints and knocks against the walls pretty soon with how loud the two of you were being. He brought your legs up on to his shoulders because he knew he could hit you deeper in this position. His cock felt so good against your core with each and every thrust and he brought his finger up to your clit, flicking and pinching at your already swollen nub. 

“M—Mark—holy shit Mark—mmmmm—so big—so good—faster please—I need you to go faster.” You didn’t have to ask him twice. His balls began to hit the back of your ass and you couldn’t help but to scratch his back in response to how insane it was driving you. Sweat was building up on both of your bodies and the room wreaked of sex. He started to pepper your face with kisses and smiled at you gently causing your heart to flutter. To your confusion, he motioned for you to drop your legs and brought himself deeper in to your thighs. He reached up at your hands and intertwined while slowing down his pace. 

“Y/n.” You didn’t want to make eye contact with him because you knew you would tear up if you were to look at him, but you found yourself staring up at him anyway. He brushed back some of your hair and left a chaste kiss on your lips before gazing at you. The animalistic look in his eye was no longer there. It was now softer, more gentle and you could’ve sworn you saw a tear fall from his cheek. 

“I love you. With every single bone and breath in my body. For today, tomorrow and I’m sure the rest of my life, I will love you and only you. Please—please don’t leave me. I can’t live without you. You’re the reason for my existence, you’re the cause of the smile on my face. My heart, it only beats for you. I love you—I love you—so fucking much—I love you.” With each and every thrust, confessions of love and pleas to not leave him fell from his pretty lips. His eyes never left yours once and the only time he let go of your hand was to wipe the tears that came down the longer the two continued to relinquish in what was left of your love. With the way his cock was throbbing in between your legs, you knew he was close and you weren’t too far away. He connected your lips together and before you knew it, you were being filled with his cum. 

“Come on baby, let go for me.” His words alone brought you to sheer ecstasy and you were releasing not too long after him. He plopped himself on top of you and the two of you just laid there in silence, just basking in the other’s presence. His heartbeat was loud against your chest and you were sure he could hear yours too. He ran his fingers through your hair and left soft kisses among it. After lying with each other for a few moments, Mark decided the two of you were in desperate need of a shower. 

“God, I will never get over how beautiful you are. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. Let’s get you cleaned up baby.” In Mark’s words, “lets get you cleaned up” meant another round in your shower. He had you up against the wall while he fucked in to you from behind and once you were done, he took you up against the fridge and on top of the couch. If this was going to be your last night together, he was going to make the most of it. The two of you were exhausted after hours of passionate and extremely steamy love making so Mark helped you change in to one of his shirts and tucked you in to bed before finishing getting himself ready to go to sleep. 

The tears were hot on your cheeks as you waited for him to join you. Is this how it was going to be without him? The bed was  cold and empty and so was your heart. Could you really live without him? When he finally rejoined you in bed, he was quick to pull you against his bare chest and wrapped his arms around your lower back. He smashed his cheek against yours and released an exasperated sigh. “Stay with me tonight, please.” You hesitantly nodded before placing a light kiss on his chest. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“Yeah, my sister offered me to live with her until I find a place of my own.”

“You don’t have to do this you know, you could stay. I can fix this. We can be okay again—“ the soft pinch on his bicep told him otherwise. 

“Can we pretend like none of this is happening and just hold each other and talk—“

You were quick to pick up on the way his brows were furrowing and how he let go of your waist in order to clench his fist. He sighed heavily before interrupting you, the anger in his voice sent chills down your spine. 

“How the fuck am I supposed to pretend like nothing’s wrong y/n? You’re leaving me! You’re not giving us a chance! You’re running away from your problems, from me. Am I supposed to be all happy, sunshine and rainbows when you’re breaking my fucking heart? No way. Let’s be real here y/n. Once you leave, there’s no turning back. We will never be the same. We’ll be strangers again. Like we didn’t plan out our lives together. Like you aren’t the one I plan on spending the rest of my life with. It’s like I mean nothing to you. Like the last four years of our relationship meant nothing to you.” 

Hearing him choke on his words again made your heart hurt. Mark was always the strong one in your relationship. Although he was sensitive, he hardly ever cried in front of you because he never wanted to seem weak. He’s admitted to you that he would cry after the two of you would argue, but not once have you ever seen him cry in front of you. You lovingly wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He must’ve had the same mindset as you and pushed the negative thoughts to the back of his mind. 

“Can we—still be friends?” He gave you a knowing look while shaking his head. 

“You and I both know there’s no way we can be just friends. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not when I still have feelings for you and I probably always will. How am I supposed to look at you and resist the urge to want to pull you in my embrace and kiss you with everything I have? There’s no way. I’m sorry. If I can’t have you in my life as my girlfriend, then there’s no point of having you at all.” He grazed your cheek with his thumb. “Do you really think this is the end for us y/n? Do you not see yourself spending the rest of your life with me like I do with you?”

“Of course I do Mark. All I want and could ever want is you. Everything we planned for ourselves, our future, the house with a big yard and our kids running around, I want all of that. I just need some time. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.” He placed his chin on your shoulder and left a soft kiss there. 

“We don’t have much time left together. Let’s make the most of it shall we?” The two of you stayed up for a few hours reminiscing on your time together and updated each other on what was going on in your lives that the other didn’t know about. Since both you and Mark were spent from making love to one another, it didn’t take him long to fall asleep. You however, decided to take this time to adore Mark while you still could. You brought your fingers up to his face and traced his features as softly as you could in fear of waking him up. Mark was a sight for sore eyes. He was breathtakingly handsome and the fact that he was extremely kind, generous and golden hearted made him all the more attractive than he already was. 

You wish things could be different. If only your mind would allow you to believe that he was going to change. That things would be different but deep down, you knew there was a huge chance he was all talk. He would treat you right and make things better, but it wouldn’t last long. Your heart could no longer handle this rollercoaster you called a relationship. 

After being selfish and taking as much time as you could in his arms, you tried your best to take his arm off of your waist without waking him. Then you grabbed a pair of sweats and made your way in to the bathroom to change, not wanting to make a sound and end up waking the sleeping figure you were trying to get away from. You debated on whether or not you should change out of his shirt, you knew you would end up crying every time you were to look at it but you decided to keep it. You loved Mark’s smell, it was addicting. Just as you were finished, you snuck back in to the room and began to write him a quick note and placed it on your pillow then you went to his side of the bed and placed a long kiss on his lips. 

“I love you so much Mark. You’re mine and I’m yours. Never forget it.” You took one more look at him and forced yourself to hold back your sobs. Your adorable little puppy Milo came running towards you when he noticed you making your way towards the door with all your bags. You knelt down and playfully ruffled his fur. “I’m going to miss you Mai. Take care of daddy for me would you?”

When Mark woke up the next morning to a more vacant bed, he began to panic although he knew there was a huge chance that you left already. That’s how you were, whenever you put your mind to something, you always went through with it. Breaking up with Mark was no different. He allowed the tears and his muffled cries to fill up the room as he began to scream in to his pillow. Why did he have to fall asleep? He could’ve stopped you if he tried a little harder. It was in the moments where he was throwing his fists around that he felt something crunch under the sheets. He picked up your note and his sobs only got louder as he began to read what you had to say.

My dearest Mark,

If you’re reading this, I have already taken my things and left. We’ll find each other again one day and until then, live your best life and take care of yourself. I’m sorry things had to end this way, but I needed to do this for myself. Just because I’m leaving you doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. Don’t you ever question my love for you okay? I love you more than you will ever know.

Forever yours,

Y/n

They say if you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, then it’s yours forever. If not, then it was never meant to be.

Let this be our lesson in love Let this be the way we remember us I don't wanna be cruel or vicious And I ain't asking for forgiveness All I ask isIf this is my last night with you Hold me like I'm more than just a friend Give me a memory I can use Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do It matters how this ends 'Cause what if I never love again?

[irvinislost-blog]

Chapter Three

sup dudes i’m back. the party was sick, the nye party. fucking mental. but the host felt really guilty and ended up telling her parents about everything and now she owes her parents a shit tonne of money and she can't really do anything because her parents now kind of hate her, so things aren't going well for her. poor kid. but she did get into the college she wants to go to because she had a day out of school last week to audition and stuff and all went well. my parents have currently abandoned me, they're in northern ireland without me so i spent last night at my boyfriends and tonight I'm at my best friends house. it feels weird doing this not at my desk. i miss my desk, and just my bedroom in general.

i really love my bedroom now. i recently hung a lightbulb from my ceiling and when you pull it it lights up and it’s a pure white light and because my walls are pure white, it just like illuminates them and it looks cool as in cool like cold and it makes me very happy as it reminds me of the 1975′s self-titled album. see my room has two moods and both really juxtapose the way my room used to look. my room used to be mint green and the walls were covered with posters and tickets ad photos and it was all a wee bit emo but a few months ago i finally convinced my dad to paint and redecorate and i got a new bed because like three years ago two of my friends broke my old bed frame and it was pretty dangerous to like be within a near proximity to my bed for a hot minute. now my room is white with the same black furniture and black sparkly carpet and i have two sets of fairy lights at each end of the room. above my head i have warm fairy lights and above my desk i have pure white fairy lights that match my new hanging bulb. i have another hanging bulb i just haven't put it up yet because i’m lazy lol. i also have a cloud light that i need to put on my wall, its like an led thing thats shaped like a cloud. i ordered it in pure white but it has come as warm white which i’m low-key really pissed about but it can go with the other mood of my room, you get me. i also have my lamp next to my bed which is warm. so at one end of my room it’s all cold and cool and at the other end it’s all warm and cosy so i turn the right lights on depending on my mood. it’s pretty cool. lighting is everything. my room is my own little hole.

i saw the 1975 last week. the 1975. matty. adam. ross. george. my children. my favourite people on the planet. it was incredible. i actually love matty healy more than anything in the whole entire fucking world. he is the love of my life. he’s so much better now, like i’m so fucking proud of him. seeing them again was actually the happiest i’ve ever been, they mean the whole world to me. i was convinced i was going to get in too, like genuinely, there was no doubt in my mind that i would get turned down instantly but i was fine and i got in. going alone to manchester arena was a wee bit weird, but it wasn't that bad to be honest, like i thought it would be scarier, especially since i was standing. i cried so hard, i nearly had a bloody panic attack. matty looks so good. he always does. the difference between the first time i saw them and this time was insane, like you can really tell that he doesn't do coke anymore, i’m so proud. the first time i saw them, matty was stumbling around tipsy with a glass of red wine in his hand and it was all so dark and he was evidently very sad and i fell in love with him there and then and i’m still very much in love with him now. i have a videos in my memories that’s captioned something like i’m in the same room as matty fucking healy and that was the exact moment that he became like the most significant figure in my life and he still is and honestly i think he always will be. on the other hand, this time he was bouncing around on a little conveyor belt all night in a jumpsuit and a bunny hat making sarcy comments and generally just being really fucking happy and alive and omg the fucking displays and lighting were incredible. everything was so bright and uplifting and i was so happy. that night has given me the will to live again. i am worried about adam though. they were all on the graham norton show the other day and matty told a story about how adam was amazed by the film the lovely bones and the order of the events and adam was like there’s people and she’s alive then she dies then she’s alive again and then there’s different people and then there’s credits and then there’s more people and matty was confused and the next day, adam said that his dvd player was on shuffle. wow i love adam, i just want to give him a hug. i really think he’s going through some shit but everyone’s judgement is clouded by patty’s enlightenment that they don't seem to realise that adam is rapidly devoluting. ross is still a dad, who doesn't love ross, let’s be honest. george is just there being tall and beautiful and pulling weird faces and making sure matty is still alive whilst ross then looks after everyone. i’ll look after ross, he needs taking care of too, he deserves it. there was one point in the show where matty noticed that a girl was hurt and he stopped everything and was like she’s hurt can someone get her out please, she really needs help, and then when she was getting taken out matty said everyone say we love you, bye bye. fuck shit i love matty healy, he actually is the most amazing human being ever and my personal favourite human being ever. am currently listening to antichrist and wow it is beautiful, like what an actual masterpiece. also i realised something today, and it’s going to sound longwinded but it is actually realistic. basically, my best friend’s uncle that’s not really her uncle it’s her dad’s best friend, manages bands and shit and he knows pale waves quite well who are basically owned by the 1975 because they're with dirty hit records which is owned by the 1975, so like, i could meet them. and i didn't realise even though i know about the connection and then like a few hours ago, my best friend was like yeah if you think about, my uncle knows pale waves and they're owned by the 1975 so you know, shit could happen, and i lost it. we were at one of her family gatherings and i started crying and it was not good and i had to ring my dad and be like dad listen but he didn't answer and i didn't know what to do. i was going to end this here because i talk about the 1975 too much but my best friend told me to keep going so i will because i’m not actually done. me is currently playing, which is her favourite song by them, i also very much adore this song. it’s very precious and pretty and beautiful and if it was a person i would spoon it and cradle it and i would be big spoon because it’s so small and fragile and i wan to take care of it. the tootimetootimetootime video nearly made me cry earlier which was a wee bit strange because it’s such a bop song and the video is so fun and it makes me want to bop but instead i teared up. i think that there may be a high possibility that i am broken. just maybe. but matty makes me really happy at the same time so it’s okay. 

i honestly just want to talk to matty not going to lie. like obviously i want to marry him and be with him forever and ever because i do love him but i would really love to just have a sleepover with him and have like a proper conversation with him. i’m not saying this because i like adore him but i feel that we would genuinely get on and like be able to have an in depth chat about literally anything and everything, like it actually just would make my life complete. i would happily settle for going for coffee. but i know full well that i would actually pass out if i was to meet him. i would at least have the biggest panic attack i would ever have. the one thing i would hope for is that he just listens, and i know he will, like fuck me he is an interesting person. i love to pick people’s brains and to pick his brain would actually like be insane because he is so intriguing. i would really like to get high with him. now that, would be an experience. to get high with matty healy is my life goal. i want to tell him about how he is my idol and that i really do look up to him but i also want to just chat to him but i also want to tell him about the meaning that his music and him and adam and ross and george give to my life. fuck wow. i love matty healy. i should definitely stop and i’m way too tired to discuss all the other shit that’s happened recently so i’m going to skedaddle.

goodnight;