#Izzy is almost never called anything other then Sweetheart
Chap 8 Up the creek
Chris: Last time on Total Drama Island... The competitors were forced to conquer their deepest, darkest fears. Not all of them succeeded, but others surprised the group and faced their fears head-on. In a shocking twist, Tyler let the Bass down when he was too chicken to face the chicken. Get it? [laughs] And it was "Buh-Bye, Tyler." Once again, the Bass find themselves behind. Can they pull this one out of the water? Find out today on Total. Drama. Island!
Iris an the Others listed to Chris explain the challenge.
Chris: Bass, Gophers, today's challenge is a true summer camp experience. A canoe trip. You'll be paddling your canoes across the lake... [spookily] to Boney Island! When you get there, you must portage your canoes to the other side of the island, which is about a two-hour hike through treacherous, dense jungle.
"Wait you mean one of the most flocked to paranormal hot spots. That Boney Island!" Iris said alarmed Chris laughed "I take it you don't mess with that?" He asked looking at his daughter. "Why else would I carry sage and sault. They can do anything to you." She said quivering. "Are you sure it was blood you were afraid of?" He asked skeptically. Iris nods at him.
"Look you cant physically do anything to a spirit. But if provoked or even on a wim, they can seriously mess you up. That said please don't let there be a dip shit on this team. Oh wait Lindsay and Beth both dipshits."
Geoff: We've gotta pour what?
Chris: "Portage." [fly buzzes] Dude, walk with your canoe.
Chris: When you arrive at the other end of the island, you'll build a rescue fire that will be judged by me. The first team to paddle home and return their canoes to the beach is the winner of invincibility! Move, campers, move! Oh, wait! One more thing I should mention. Legend has it, if you take anything off the island, [spooky voice] you'll be cursed forever!
Iris looked at her whole team. "None of you do anything to piss off the Island. So many people have died at that place." Leshawna "White girl more superstitious than my granma. Take a chill pill we will be fine." She said patting Iris on the back.
Owen: Yeah, haha! A cursed island! Whoo!
Chris: Now, get in your canoes and let's have some fun!
Beth[coming out of the bathroom]: What'd I miss?
Everyone got in the canoes and made our way to the island. Leshawna was watching me. "Hey so how are you and Duncan doing?" She asked trying to get my mind off of things. "He wants Courtney. Thats ok did think we would get together anyway. " I said feeling my heart brake with every word. "Girl let it go he will see what a prize he lost. Far as I'm concerned you are one of the sweethearts on the island. If you ask me the best way to heal a broken heart is revenge." She said not knowing what she just suggested.
When we get on the Island and start walking. I look over to my right and there they were giant Beavers.
We all started to run being chased by these over grown carpets.
Chris: [confessional] A remnant of the Pleistocene Era, the woolly beaver is a day-active rodent indigenous to Boney Island. Oh yeah, and they're meat eaters.
After losing the overgrown carpets and dodging the diving birds trent gets caught in quick sand.
Ok maybe the spirits are not behind the killings in this place. The Island is still a death trap though honestly this is a place Antonio would love.
Trent: Right. How am I supposed to know what quicksand looks like? It looks just like sand.
Chris [laughs]: Can you believe they fell for that?! Haha, I set it up, but I didn't think anyone would walk into it! Haha, that's just great! [laughs]
After getting trent out of the sand pit we make it to the beach. The bass got their fire going. What a shocker with someone who carries a lighter. "Beth stand here look up at the sun and smile." The sunlight reflects off her braces strategically placing a magnifying glass the fire was started. Izzy made a bomb out of tree sap and other things. This giving us the edge. We stayed to head back, when Izzy gave the bass advice on how to get to shore. "They are the enemy dip shit don't help them." I said Glaring at Courtney and Duncan.
I think she is gunning for me and Courtney. Whatever bring it on small town girl.
We were almost there when DJ swam past us taking victory for the Bass. Leshawna: You cost us the game! You are dead!
Izzy: Right. Okay, you are so lucky that my license to kill is currently expired.
At the Elimination Cerimony.
Chris: And now, the always anxiety-inducing marshmallow ceremony. When I call your name, come and get a marshmallow. Beth. Trent. Gwen. Cody. Owen. Heather. Leshawna. One last marshmallow. The person who doesn't get this marshmallow will walk off the Dock of Shame and take a ride on the Boat of Losers. Who's it gonna be?
[helicopter blades whir]
RCMP Guard: Izzy! We know you are down there! You are under arrest!
Leshawna: You mean all that trash you were talking was true?
Izzy: No. Just the RCMP part. See ya! You'll never get me alive!!! [laughs maniacally]
Chris: Well. That wraps that up. Night everyone.
I stayed by the fire Leshawna's words in my mind. "Yes revenge sounds good to me." I said with an evil smirk.
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Rating : G
Word count : 1.9K
Warnings : None
Clary was late. Sure, she was never punctual, she was always a few minutes tardy here and there, but today she was late. So late, she walked into her lecture half an hour after it started.
She snuck in while her professor's back was turned and raced past the rows and sat next to her raven haired friend.
As Clary collected herself, She felt Izzy’s burning gaze on her profile. Clary turned around and looked at her friend and shot her a sheepish smile. “Good morning!” she said, and Isabelle frowned in response. Clary could feel a lecture coming. “Clary,” Izzy started, “You’re a lot of things, you have many flaws, and I love you regardless,” she smiled. “But if you don’t buy a damn alarm clock and wake up on time I will not cover for you ever again!” she hissed. Clary sighed, “ It’s not my fault alarm clocks have snooze buttons, or off buttons for that matter. But I wasn’t totally late only because of my lack of alarm clocks…” she trailed off. Izzy looked at her. “Then why were you late?” she questioned with a smirk. Clary knew all too well where her adventurous friend's brain was going. “Isabelle. No. It’s just. See, ugh now I don’t wanna tell you!” Clary whined. “Come on! Please!” Izzy said with a laugh, making puppy eyes at Clary. She opened her mouth to say more but was interrupted by a booming voice from the front of the lecture hall. “Is there something you two would like to share with the class?” asked their professor, his voice laced with irritation. Clary and Isabelle quickly parted and pretended to take notes. Izzy gave Clary a look that said “Later” but Clary simply smirked. She’d have to catch her first.
Isabelle knew Clary like the back of her hand, and if one thing was clear, Clary was obviously hiding something. She knew it had nothing to do with a late night hook-up, Clary wasn’t like that, but she wildly suspected it had something to do with the opposite sex, and if the scent of coffee and donuts that lingered on Clary was anything to go by, that certain someone was probably from the coffee shop she recently started frequenting.
As it turned out, Clary’s late arrival did not go unnoticed by her professor, “He’s an art professor Clary, he literally lives for detail.” was what her roommate and best friend Simon had told her when Clary entered their apartment in a foul mood after getting a 15 minute lecture from her professor about punctuality. “Hey, you left here on time didn’t you? Why were you late?” he asked, suddenly curious. “Well, ummm I missed the bus?” Clary said, trying to come up with a good enough excuse to cover up for the real reason she was late, but she obviously failed miserably, for the look on Simon’s face was anything but belief. “Clary…” he said, and gave her a look. “Wow!” Clary suddenly exclaimed.” Would you look at the time! Gotta run! Catch ya later Simon!” she said, grabbed her jacket and ran for the door.”
“Clary! Get back here!” Simon called after her, but it was too late, for the tiny redhead had already disappeared out of sight
Clary ran down the apartment stairs and onto the street. She would have to answer a lot of questions later on, but she needed to get to the coffee shop, partially for coffee, but mostly to see a certain blond hottie who was the reason she was late today.
Jace always wondered how he ended up working at the coffee shop. He was a broke college student, but there were so many jobs out there, why a coffee shop of all places? If he didn’t need the money, he would’ve quit a long time ago.The snobby customers and his co-worker Magnus’s Taylor Swift playlist that played on loop was enough to make him consider ending it all. Not to get him wrong, he loved Taylor, but hearing ‘Style’ about ten times everyday was just too much for Jace.
As he was pouring a customer a cup of coffee, another coworker and his best friend Alec came over to him. “Hey bestie!” Jace said, raising his voice a few pitches higher. Alec gave him a disgusted look and said “Your redhead sweetheart is here.” At this Jace’s mood brightened, she’d been coming to the coffee shop for a few days now, and seemed to be a college student, just like him. “You know maybe you should talk to her, she seems kinda into you.” said Alec and gave Jace a suggestive smirk. He frowned. “I would, but I honestly doubt she’s into me, maybe she has a thing for Magnus?” “Magnus!” Alec said,almost choking on his own spit. “You summoned me!’ said a voice from behind them. Alec gave Magnus a loving look and looped his arms around his waist. Jace cringed a little internally. “Couples…” he thought. “Jace-yy..” Magnus drawled, “Your crush is here to see you.” “Can you believe Jace thinks she’s here for you?” Alec said with a laugh and Magnus started laughing with him. This was too much domestic-ness for Jace to handle, so he decided to go see his crush.
According to the badge on his t-shirt, the hottie’s name was Jace. Clary liked that name. It was simple, yet unique, and maybe their ship name could be Clace. It had become a part of the morning routine to go to the coffee shop, order a cup of coffee and a donut, and stare at Jace for 15 minutes. Today she may have gotten a little lost into the staring (which was totally not creepy) and missed her bus.
Oh well, at least it wasn’t a waste of time.
As she was entering the coffee shop after running away from Simon, Clary decided that she was going to talk to Jace. The coffee shop was always a very calming place, and whoever handled the music had excellent taste. Clary made her way to the counter, the cashier was always a black haired boy who scared her a little, but she would always see Jace behind him, like a star working away on making coffee and satisfying customers. As she looked up from the menu card she expected to meet a pair of blue eyes, only to be met with a pair of tawny ones. Jace. Sirens started going off in Clary’s brain. Should she run? Should she pretend to be mute? Should she just risk it all and talk to him? Clary decided to go with option four, which was to stare blankly at Jace and grin. “Um, hi? Can I get you something?” without thinking Clary replied, “Yeah my usual please.”, left the cash on the counter, ran to her seat, put her head on her table and mentally screamed. He probably thought she was an idiot now.
A few minutes later Jace brought her order to her table, gave her a smile and left. Why was he so perfect? As Clary was adding sugar to her coffee she realized something, how did he know her order?
After the first interaction Jace had with the red head, he was elated, but also kind of bummed because he didn’t catch her name. He smiled to himself remembering their conversation, when he saw her stalking up to him. Jace smiled. “Do you need any-” he began to ask, only to be cut off when she said “Are you stalking me?” Jace was stunned. “What?!” he asked, unable to believe his own ears. “I said, are you stalking me? You know, I expected more from you blondie. I thought you were an honourable man who respected women and wasn’t a creep.” The lady kept going on and on and all Jace could do was stare open mouthed at her. How could he have been so stupid, he’d memorized her order and he’d never taken it before, naturally, she was bound to think he was a creep. All he could was put his head down in shame.
Alec heard the commotion, so he came over to see what was going on, only to be met with the sight of his best friend getting yelled at by his crush. “What’s going on here?” he interjected. The red head looked at him with fire in her eyes. “This man,” she said “Has been stalking me! He’s memorized my coffee order. He’s never served me before and when I asked for my usual, he brought me my usual!’ Alec realized what was going on. “He’s not stalking you shorty,” he said tiredly. “This moron has a crush on you!” he said with an exasperated sigh. At this the red head flushed, mumbled a sorry and ran out of the store. Jace glared at Alec. “it had to be done man..” he said, and walked away, while Jace ran after the girl.
“Stupid. stupid . stupid!” Clary thought to herself as she ran out of the shop. How could she just assume like that! Also crush? No way, and definitely not anymore. Her mind was reeling. She could hear the other boy’s voice; “This moron has a crush on you; a crush; on you.” Was it possible to feel so happy you wanted to fly, but also feel like you wanted to bury yourself alive at the same time? Because that was exactly how Clary felt.
She had run quite a distance when she heard a familiar baritone voice call after her. “Clary! Please wait up, I just want to talk!” She stopped in her tracks. As Jace ran up to her started talking. “Look, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have made such an assumption, I’ll never set foot into the coffee shop again. Once again- Jace put a finger on her lips. “Shoosh…” he said, “I’m the one who should apologize. What I did was kind of creepy and I can understand where you were coming from. Also, ignore what my friend said back there. Clary couldn’t believe it. He had no reason to apologize, yet he came running after her to do just that. Why was he so sweet? Mustering all her boldness, “But I don’t want to ignore it.” she said, a little bashfully. “Huh? what do you mean?” Jace said, but she could see a small smirk on his face. Clary let out a big sigh. “I’ve had a crush on you ever since I walked into that coffee shop.” she said. Jace’s eyes widened “Really? Wow! Same! But in all honesty I didn’t think you liked me like that. I mean a girl like you couldn’t have possibly been single?” Clary looked at him and giggled. “Oh you have no idea. Also, I feel really bad about what I did back there? Is there any way I can make it up to you?” she asked, feeling guilty. Jace looked thoughtful. “Hmm.. How about a cup of coffee, and maybe your number?” he said, with a twinkle in his eyes. “Most certainly blondie! It’s the least I could do after everything!” she said.
“Hey I never learned your name.” Jace said, “Clary.” she replied. “Beautiful.” he said, and they both walked back to the coffee shop arm in arm while giggling as they recounted the events of that day.
“I’m telling you Simon, she’s met someone here!” Izzy said, as she and Simon entered the coffee shop, only to see Clary engaged in a vivacious conversation with an extremely good looking boy with blond hair. Simon was taken back, he definitely did not think something like this would happen. “Well,” Izzy said, with a smirk on her face, “Looks like you owe me a doughnut!” “It looks like I do..” Simoon said, with a resigned sigh and rolled his eyes as he went after Isabelle, who’d already headed off to Clary and the blonde’s table.
A/N: Hello! Thank you for reading! Feel free to hit me up with feedback!
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You Don’t Want My Love - Chapter 7
Pairing: Duff McKagan x reader
Summary: Guns n Roses hires a new tour assistant, but nobody thought that Duff would fall for her.
In this chapter: Late night talks on the bus can sometimes be your best friend. The band goes to a Scottish pub, but what happens when you mix love with beer?
A/N: The only thing I can say after finishing this chapter is that I want Duff McKagan in my life! Enjoy… (new chapters every Tuesday)
Tag list: @roger-taylors-car @ladieswttda @teasid @metalheartofgold @ginny-rose-sixx @rumoured-whispers @vinylvintage @metalupyourash add yourself to my tag list :)
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“Where’s my vodka?” Duff asked, searching inside the cabinets in the dressing room.
“Duff, don’t you think you’ve had enough for a day?” Y/N asked, concerned, he had drank a bottle already.
“Relax, sweetheart, I’ll be fine, I just want to ease my nerves....” He opened the last door, grinning widely. “Here it is!”
He placed the bottle on the top of the table, searching for a new plastic glass.
Y/N reached forward, grabbing the bottle just when Duff placed a glass beside it.
“Y/N, let go of the vodka, please.” He looked into her eyes, his tone was serious but his eyes had a glimpse that she couldn’t quite identify.
“No.” She took the bottle away from the table.
“Y/N…” He prolonged her name. “You don’t want me to go there and pick it, right?” He smirked, the glimpse in his eyes getting intensified, allowing her to identify it - mischief.
He started walking slowly towards her, while she started backing off.
“Y/N…” He said it again but she sprinted off the room, running through the corridors with him chasing her.
At some points he almost got her, but there was always someone passing by that could be used as an obstacle.
She grinned seeing the exit door at the end of the hallway. Pushing the door open, she met with bright sunshine. Looking back she couldn’t see Duff, she started moving backward slowly, facing the door trying to see any sight of the blonde.
Y/N abruptly stopped when her back hit against something, or better, someone.
Turning around slowly she found Duff, he moved his arms and she closed her eyes by instinct, opening them when she felt him circling her waist and pulling her closer.
He pressed his lips against hers, in a sweet and slow kiss. Forgetting completely about the bottle, she reached behind his neck with her arms, dropping the bottle beside her and pulling him even closer.
The crackling sound made him smile in the kiss, before he slowly pulled away from her.
“You good?” He looked down to see if she hadn’t cut herself.
A strong glow accompanied by a deafening crash woke Y/N. Looking out of the window she could see the rays covering the sky as heavy rain hit the road.
Great, we're under a storm. She thought to herself.
Hitting her head against the pillow, she grunted, running her hands over her face. Obviously it was a dream, Y/N.
She even tried to sleep, but she never liked storms, even when she was a child, they always made her scared and alert, two things that made it impossible for her to fall asleep.
Looking for her slippers on the floor, she got up, walking slowly to the common area of the bus, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with both hands.
Opening the door, her eyes locked on Duff’s. He was sitting in one corner of the couch with an acoustic guitar on his lap, the radio was turned on at a low volume, playing some band that she had never heard before.
They stared at each other for a few seconds under the bad lighting generated by the red emergency lamps on the bus, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she recalled the dream she had just had, internally hoping he wouldn't notice.
"Can't you sleep?"
"I don't like storms very much." She headed for the small kitchen on the bus, turning on the lamp in the wall cabinet. "I came to make tea to see if it helps."
"It's been raining for a while, but the lightning started a little ago."
"Haven't you gone to sleep yet?" She looked at the clock on the bus, 4:10 am.
"I wasn’t sleepy, too many thoughts in my head."
"I know how it is." She murmured. "Do you want tea?"
"No, thank you."
Silence washed over the room, and she turned to face the electric kettle, waiting for the water to boil.
Focusing on the ambient sounds, the beat of the music enveloped her ears and she realized that Duff was playing the same song on the guitar, but on notes so soft they could hardly be heard in the rain.
"Which band is this?" She turned to him.
“Ramones. They are from New York. ” He stopped playing, looking into her eyes.
"It looks like a movie soundtrack ... of those that play before an adventure scene."
He smiled at her words. “It’s a tape I made, they are my favorite songs of theirs. This is I Wanna Be Sedated.”
"It's a good song." She turned, taking the boiling water to finish her tea.
"Now you can't say that you've never heard anything punk." He said remembering the conversation they had had at the record store a few months ago.
"Is that punk?" She opened her eyes wide. "I thought it would be something worth scaring little children." She laughed a little.
"No, it's not like that." He giggled. “They were the first band, you know? They arrived at the label with this tape with several 2-minute songs and ended up revolutionizing rock ”
She smiled when she saw the sparkle in his eyes when he spoke.
"Do You Wanna Dance?" He said calmly and she choked on the tea.
He laughed. "The music." He pointed to the radio, she hadn't even noticed that another song was playing. "This is the last one of the tape."
"Well, I don't know if I would listen to them willingly, but they are good!" She sat on the same couch as him, leaving some space between them.
"I figured you’d like it." He smiled putting the guitar on the floor.
"Yeah, but you're not always right."
"What you mean?"
"Those Dead Kennedys suck!" She said laughing.
"Oh no!" He touched his chest. "You’re hurting me, Y/N!"
“Like… Drug Me? What song is that!?”
"Yeah, maybe I gave you the wrong band." He laughed, leaning his head against the wooden panel that blocked the bus ladder.
The tape came to an end and the bus went silent again, only the noise of rain and wind being noticeable.
"What now?" She pointed with her thumb at the radio.
"I'll let you choose something."
Standing up and adjusting her knit shorts, she walked over to the radio, turning the station knob until she found a song she liked, playing at a local station.
"Scorpions?" He frowned.
"Is that their name?" She asked laughing, returning to sit next to him, this time closer.
He laughed as he shook his head. "I think I'm going to have to give you some rock lessons."
"Only if I give you some pop lessons!" Y/N smiled.
He pursed his lips. "That makes it difficult."
She laughed at his response, but then I Want To Know What Love Is started playing and she went silent with embarrassment, afraid that Duff would realize that the song represented exactly how she felt.
“So, where are you from?” She looked at him, trying desperately to initiate some conversation that could take her mind away from the song.
“Seattle. Born and raised there.” He smiled.
“Just you or you have siblings?”
“I have seven older siblings.”
“Wow! God bless your mom!” She widened her eyes.
“She’s a good woman. She would like you.”
Y/N looked down, trying to cover the smile that formed on her lips.
“What about you? Any siblings?”
“I have one brother. He’s five years younger.”
“The two of you get along well?”
She yawned, the tea finally bringing sleep back to her. "Most of the time. He's a good boy. Started in college last year. ” A small smile formed on her lips.
“What’s his name?”
"Kevin." She placed the cup on the coffee table, resting her head against the back of the couch. "The nickname is Kenny." She closed her eyes, trying to fight sleep.
"I bet he’s very proud to be your brother." Duff said, looking at her closely and realizing that she was almost asleep.
"Yeah, maybe." She murmured.
After a few seconds of not moving, Duff called her name, but got no answer. She had slept.
He laughed softly, stretching his long legs on the coffee table, pulling Y/N to lie against his chest. She looked so small in that big sweater.
She moved a little while still sleeping, finding a comfortable position for her head right over his heart.
Duff wrapped his arms around her, gently kissing the top of her head. "Good night, Y/N."
And the sleep that had disappeared, finally came, if the cause of it was the sun coming up or the smell of her perfume? He couldn't say. But he closed his eyes, sighing deeply, allowing himself to sleep.
"Awn, look at them!" Steven said excitedly.
"Shut up, you're going to wake them up!" Axl replied.
"And isn't that the intention, idiot?" Slash asked, slapping the back of Axl's head.
Slowly, Duff started to open his eyes, all four were standing in front of him. Looking down, Duff saw her sleeping, she looked so peaceful, her hand was on his chest and her lips were slightly parted.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." Izzy said, smirking.
Looking at the watch, he saw that it was 9:30 in the morning.
"We stopped for breakfast." Axl said, throwing a leather jacket over his shoulder before getting off the bus, being accompanied by Izzy.
"You guys look so cute together!" Steven exclaimed and Y/N moved a little.
Slash started pushing Steven lightly by the shoulders off the bus, leaving Duff and Y/N there.
She started to open her eyes slowly and Duff removed some hair from her face.
"Hey, good morning." He said in a soft voice.
Hearing Duff's voice she got up quickly, sitting on the couch and looking around, finally realizing that she had slept with him, or on him.
"My goodness! I'm sorry, Duff! Wow, I fucked up big this time!” She ran her hands through her hair, trying to untangle it, avoiding looking him in the eye.
She kept looking ahead, so he touched her chin, gently turning her face to him. "It's alright." He smiled gently.
Slowly, Y/N nodded.
"Axl said we stopped for breakfast."
"Oh my God, did he see me like that?" She covered her mouth with her hand.
"Everyone saw it, but relax, they don't care." He smiled trying to comfort her.
"You coming?" He asked getting up, ducking his head so he wouldn't hit the ceiling.
“I'm going to change first. I'll be there in a few minutes. ” She smiled slightly.
Duff nodded and left the bus.
"Oh. My. God." She said slowly. The thought of spending the night in Duff's arms made a smile come over her lips as she slowly walked over to her suitcase, still not believing what had happened.
Wearing the first jeans she found, she kept her sweater on, brushing her teeth quickly and heading toward the cafe.
Sitting next to Slash and Axl, she asked for coffee with pancakes, avoiding the look in the boys' eyes.
"So Duff, did you sleep well?" Axl asked, smirking, making Slash nudge him.
"Yes, I did." Duff tried to be casual, but there was no way to make the situation any less embarrassing.
"Y/N." Izzy's voice made her look at him, hoping it wasn't another joke. "The driver said that we’ll get to Edinburgh in the early afternoon, do we have anything to do today?"
She breathed a sigh of relief. "No, today is a free day."
Izzy nodded, turning his attention to the coffee.
"I want to go to a pub tonight." Slash announced.
"Hell yeah!" Duff agreed, high fiving the friend over the table.
"You know what, I'm going with you!" Axl announced, leaning against the chair.
“I think we could all use a night of fun. Izzy? Y/N? What do you say? ” Steven said, his eyes sparkling with the idea.
"Maybe." Izzy said without taking his eyes off the newspaper he was reading.
Steven looked at her hopefully.
"Why not?" She brought a piece of the pancake to her mouth.
"I think the night is going to be good!" Slash said smiling.
“8 o'clock, in the hotel lobby? What do you say?" Axl asked, receiving confirmation from each of them.
For the rest of the day she found a book in her suitcase, sitting near the bus window and listening to a tape of The Rolling Stones that Izzy had loaned her.
As much as her eyes were on the book, her mind wandered freely about the night before. Recalling how his skin glowed with the thin red light, how relaxed he looked and how soft his voice was when he spoke to her.
He had become the first good memory during a storm. And to be honest, she had even forgotten that it was raining when she was with him.
Around two in the afternoon they arrived in Edinburgh. Checking in and choosing a coat, she went out for lunch, meeting Slash in the hotel lobby, the two of them decided to have lunch together, walking quietly through the city streets.
“How was your night, Y/N? Sleep well?" Slash asked, smirking.
"Oh no! You too!?" She crossed her arms.
"Relax, I'm just bugging you." He laughed. "But you were so cute cuddling together this morning." He smiled, mocking her.
She pushed him lightly by the shoulder. "You will never let me forget this, will you?"
"Nope!" He smiled proudly and she rolled her eyes, not holding herself and giving a small smile.
After placing their orders, the two sat at a table by the window.
Looking at the gray sky and the cold wind that hit the streets, she sighed. "I wanted to go with a skirt tonight, but I think it's too cold for that."
“We are going to drink! You won't even know what's cold after the third beer.”
She pursed her lips, making them a thin line. "Yeah, that worries me too."
"Let's say I get drunk very quickly." She gave a nasal laugh as she remembered the last Christmas party, when she had a few glasses of punch she ended up sleeping in the middle of the party.
“Relax, we'll be with you. We take care of each other. ” He offered her a smile and then the two started eating, remaining in comfortable silence, except for some comments about the food here and there.
After returning to the hotel, Y/N found herself without much to do. She reorganized her bags, watched MTV and even danced when some music she liked was playing on television.
When the clock struck 7, she took a shower, drying her hair with the hotel dryer and applying light makeup. Searching among her clothes she chose a white and black skirt that she combined with a black long-sleeved blouse and long black boots. Wearing a long black coat and applying perfume, she left the room, heading for the lobby.
After a few minutes, everyone arrived and together they took two taxis towards a famous pub in the city.
Sitting at a table at the back of the establishment, “Beer Night” began, as Axl decided to call it.
The place was poorly lit, there were dark wooden tables matching chairs with red upholstery. The walls were exposed brick and there were some decorative pictures scattered around.
To her right, Y/N could see a tall counter, behind it were several craft beer machines, as well as a variety of other drinks like whiskey and liquor on shelves on the wall.
Choosing a round table in the corner of the establishment, Y/N sat down between Duff and Axl, widening his eyes when a big glass mug full of beer was placed in front of her.
"Am I supposed to drink all of this?" She pointed to the mug, looking at the boys.
"Relax, there's food to go with it." Axl told her, and then two servings of appetizers were placed in the center of the table.
When the second round of beer arrived, Y/N was already more than dizzy, she found everything funny, while the boys started talking louder and louder.
"Tell her how you broke your hand, Popcorn!" Duff said laughing, his arm was supported on the back of her chair.
"Oh no!" He ran a hand over his face, shaking his head.
"Come on! I want to know!!" She prolonged the last word by making puppy eyes.
“Okay… It was just a few weeks before the tour started, I was leaving this bar and a guy and I got into a fistfight. As you can imagine, I was not very sober, I tried to punch the guy, ended up slipping and hitting my fist against a street lamp.”
Everyone at the table laughed at the incident, Axl even put his hand on his belly to try to relieve the pain that formed in his abdomen thanks to his laughter.
Two mugs and many excuses to go to the bathroom later, they decided to go to the hotel. To be fair they didn’t decide to go to the hotel, in fact, the owner of the pub expelled them saying that it was closing time.
It was funny to see the man getting mad, none of the six were used to the Scottish accent, understanding what he was saying became even more difficult with all the beer they had had.
The last thing Y/N heard was the man growling "Fucking cunts!" before slamming the door behind them.
To be fair, it took them 15 minutes to get out of there, drinking the rest of the beer from the mugs and laughing at his accent. So she understood why he was so angry.
Stumbling to get into a taxi with Duff and Izzy, Y/N found herself leaning against the blonde's side, who put his arm over her shoulders.
"Your hair is so beautiful." She laughed, touching his hair.
"You are beautiful." He replied smiling.
She laughed again, laying her head on his shoulder, rubbing her nose against the skin of the blonde's neck. "I love your smell." She whispered and it was the last thing she saw before everything became black.
"Y/N! ... Y/N, we're here!" She opened her eyes, realizing that the taxi had parked in front of the hotel, Izzy had already left and Duff was waiting for her.
"Hum? Are we here yet? ” Her voice was drunk, skidding on every word.
"Yes, love." He smiled, getting out of the car and waiting for her.
Stumbling on the sidewalk step, Duff caught her, laughing.
"Damn boots!" She murmured, breaking free of Duff's arms and sitting on the floor in the middle of the sidewalk.
"What is she doing?" Slash asked in a slurred voice.
"Taking off her boots." Duff said. The two looked at each other and started laughing.
Trying to get up, she realized that it was a more difficult task than she imagined, as she fell down sitting again.
"Ouch ... I can't get up." She complained.
Rolling his eyes, Axl pulled her by the hands, helping her to her feet.
Analyzing the situation from the outside, it was clear that Axl and Duff were the two most sober people there, as far as possible, of course.
"Where's Izzy?" Axl asked Duff.
"He's already in." He pointed to the hotel door.
"Okay, take the lady “I can't stand up” to her room while I take care of these two."
Duff nodded, putting an arm around her waist, guiding her into the hotel.
Standing in front of the elevators, Y/N looked at Steven, he was already looking at her.
"What?" She asked.
"What?" He frowned and they both started laughing again.
Duff's elevator opened the doors and he entered, taking the girl with him.
"Good night boys. I love you!" She said in her slurred voice, but the doors closed before she could receive an answer.
Stopping in front of her bedroom door, she took a few seconds to find the lock, turning around abruptly before opening the door, facing Duff.
One of his arms was propped against the doorframe, making him only inches away from her.
“Can’t you open it? ” He asked.
"I already opened it." She smiled victoriously, leaning her head against the door and tilting her chin to stare into his eyes.
"What is it then?"
"I want you to kiss me." She whispered, moving her face close to his.
"Y/N." He prolonged her name in a warning tone.
"Please." She sighed, standing on her tiptoes.
Slowly, Duff leaned his head down and she closed her eyes, waiting for the kiss, but it never came.
Opening her eyes again, she found two brownish-green orbs staring at her.
"Not like this, you’re drunk." He said in a low voice. "Can you handle yourself or do you need help with anything else?" He pulled away from her, clearing his throat.
"I can handle it." She said looking down, unable to hide her disappointment. "Good night Duff." Entering the room she closed the door before he could respond to her words.
The next morning, Y/N woke up to a loud noise echoing in the room. Opening her eyes, it took her several seconds to realize it was the phone.
She frowned when a severe headache hit her as soon as she stepped out of bed.
"Hello?" Her voice was slurred with sleep.
"Good morning Y/N." It was Tom, he had traveled the week before. The initial plans were for him to accompany the band for at least three months, but an unforeseen event with a band in the United States made him rush back.
"Good morning, Tom." She rubbed her eyes, lying back on the bed.
"How is it going?"
“Everything is going ok. The boys are behaving, just the usual delays and problems” She said referring to drugs and drinking.
"Good to know, because I’ll need you to take care of everything for a few more weeks."
“It is difficult to explain over the phone, many things have not gone as planned and they are about to lose their contract. I will have to stay longer. ”
"Ah, yes ... I understand."
"Call me if something serious happens, and if they start to get out of control let me know and I'll get someone to help you."
"Alright, and don’t worry, I’ll warn you if something happens. ”
"Right." She could hear the sound of something metallic falling on the floor. “Sorry, I have to go. Take care, Y/N. ”
"You too, Tom." She hung up the phone, realizing it was 11 am, the soundcheck would start in a few hours.
Closing her eyes, flashes from last night hit her, fast like lightning. A dark-haired man yelling at them, Duff waking her up in the taxi and her taking off her boots on the sidewalk.
She couldn't remember entering the hotel, much less arriving in her room. Looking around she saw her clothes from the night before scattered on the floor, all except the shirt she was wearing. Her hair smelled like a mixture of cigarettes, shampoo and beer and she noticed that she had broken a nail.
"What the hell happened last night?"
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Mission Not Impossible
Random 29 for Belmanes - "How is my wife more badass than me?" for @manesalex. We have both Belmanes and Malex in this ficlet. I hope you enjoy it, love. 🧲❤️️
Isobel hadn't seen them coming, but she had the moves that were required. All that training after Noah manipulated her and died prepared her for anything.
Half of the Scooby Squad was out visiting an offsite location after finding an artifact that wasn't exactly human. It turned into somewhat of a double-mission-date with Gregory, Alex, and Michael all ready for action.
When they arrived in the abandoned building, they had unfortunately been separated.
Her husband, Gregory, liked to stick by her side—it made him feel more secure. He knew she was a tough cookie, he told her that daily, but it was his peace of mind having her within his sight. And if she could do anything for her love, it would be to give him that sense of calm after a lifetime of Manes' misery.
So she could only imagine how he was feeling now that somebody had scattered the group with gunshots.
"Damn," she muttered as she saw the two men lying on the ground, unconscious. They had appeared to be fit like bodybuilders yet had gone down like bowling pins.
Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dumb.
They had made some crude remarks about her ass and had barely finished their sentence when she had shoved them against the wall with her mind, something she had learned over time. Then she had dropped kicked them with her ankle. Graceful, too.
Humans. So predictable.
Except for Greg. He kept surprising her, over and over again. Her husband was one of the good ones. That concept had taken her some time to accept, but once she had, it had been happily ever after for them. No secrets, just love.
She had fallen in love so quickly it had been like falling asleep. Every day together, seemed to be better and better. He was her reason for being on earth. It all made sense now; the pain, the hurt, all of it. Gregory Manes was her everything.
Finally, she heard in the distance Michael calling out her name, "Izzy? Izzy, where are you?"
Then she heard Alex yelling as well, "Isobel? Are you okay? I think she's this way, Michael." Oh, the two of them. Just like how she was with Gregory, that's how Michael and Alex were and always would be. Those two husbands were almost as cute as she and Gregory were, but she would never admit that to them.
Michael didn't need that ego boost.
They came running into the room, sweat and blood dripping from their faces.
Alex looked down at the two men, "Impressive." He then peered over at his husband, "I told you she could handle it."
Michael just shrugged, "I'll always be protective over her; she's like my sister from another alien-mama. I can't help it."
"And oh how I love you for it," she replied, taking Michael into her arms. "Now, would you two mind telling me where my husband is?"
"He ran in the other direction, wanting to cover more ground to find you," Alex answered. He shook his head, "You know how my brother gets with you."
"And they call me protective," Michael laughed.
"Hey, I act the same way about you, babe," Alex responded, ruffling Michael's curls.
"I'm not complaining. It's actually a turn-on," Michael added, as he bit his lip.
"Okay, okay, you two," Isobel said, rolling her eyes. "Let's go find my man."
They ran down a gloomy corridor, which became darker with every step they took. Isobel brought out her flashlight and shined it into an empty room.
She was about to call out for Greg, when Alex grasped her arm softly and whispered, "There could be more of them. Just keep your eyes open."
Alex had more training in this type of situation, so she decided to follow the excellent soldier's lead.
When they heard a shuffle and a deafening noise coming from the second room on the right, Isobel pointed, and the other two nodded.
Carefully, they made their way down, creeping as quietly as they could without bringing attention to themselves.
As they stood by the doorway, Alex counted down from three, and they burst into the room.
Sure enough, Gregory was being detained at gunpoint, and Isobel was ready to kill the son of a bitch who dared to hold her husband against the wall.
He wasn't the only one that got protective over the one he loved.
"Let go of him, right now," she warned angrily.
Gregory's eyes widened as he took her in; she could see the relief, and then the fear re-enter them. "Isobel, get out of here!"
"I'm not leaving you." She looked at the men, all three of them, "This is my last warning. Let him go."
"How about I shoot the bastard for trespassing, then all of you instead?" The tall man exclaimed with a toothy grin.
She glanced over at Michael, then looked around at Alex, who nodded at her. Their silent communication was code for ass-kicking time.
Isobel put her hand up, "Sorry, boys, that's the wrong answer."
The man with the gun flew into the wall, and Michael pulled the weapon into his now healed hand.
Alex moved so swiftly, he barely seemed human. He rammed his fist into the muscular man so powerfully that the man sank quickly to the hard surface with a grunt. The other man tried to take Michael out, but Michael flipped the guy instantly with his powers.
Isobel had one target to get to, and that target was her husband. The guy she slammed into the wall, tried to get up and she kicked him back down. What a nuisance.
She rushed to Gregory’s side, kneeling next to him, and examined that his face was already swollen, "Are you okay, my love?"
Gregory caressed her cheek gently, and his cut lip turned into a soft smile, "I am now that I can see you're alright. I hate that we got separated. Did they hurt you?"
"Honey, I took them all out easily. Truly, it was a piece of cake."
"She's right, she did. Two men, in fact, on her own," her brother-in-law replied proudly. Isobel winked at Alex, her now best friend.
Gregory glanced at the men on the floor, passed out, and chuckled, "How is my wife more badass than me?"
Isobel grinned, "It just comes naturally, I guess."
Her husband pulled her towards him and kissed her lips gently, "I'm in awe of you, Isobel Manes."
"I hate to break up this tender moment; as you know, I'm a hopeless romantic myself," Michael interrupted as he blew a kiss at Alex, "but these men are going to wake up any moment, and we should probably get the hell out of here. I'm not sure how much alien juice we still have left in us..."
Isobel groaned but pulled away slowly, "Dammit. We didn't even get the book explaining the artifact, though. It was the whole reason we came here. What a waste."
"I wouldn't say that," her husband murmured.
She looked over at him, as he reached into his back pocket, wincing, then holding up a small book. Isobel gasped and clapped her hands, "And you call me a badass. Well done, sweetheart!"
"Hey, being married to you, I've had to learn to keep up. Plus, I do have moves of my own, too."
Isobel helped Gregory to his feet, with the help of his brother. When he was up, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, "Don't I know it." She kissed Gregory’s cheek, hovering on his soft skin, thinking all about when she would have him home to herself.
Alex laughed to the side of them, "I might have to agree with my husband on this one. You two rocked this mission, but we gotta go."
"Agreeing with Michael? I never thought I'd see the day," she smirked as they made their way out of the room; her hand intertwined with Gregory’s.
Alex grinned, “You’d be surprised. It happens from time-to-time.”
"Hey! I know what I'm doing," Michael replied with a playful frown as they ran down the hallway.
"Sure, Guerin!" They all laughed.
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Pairing: Axl Rose x Reader
Description: “Hi it’s Tuesday so can I request a smut oneshot where reader is harsh to Axl cuz she thinks of him as a selfish womanizer, and he thinks she’s cold and pretentious so they’re basically enemies, but deep inside she’s unable to resist his hotness so when she’s with her friend she blurts our that she wants him to f*** her or sth, but actually axl accidentally overhears it and next day becomes her worst(best) day?”
A/N: Reblog please !
*GIF is NOT mine, found on Google. Credit to the owner!*
“My God, have they come up for air yet?” Y/B/F asks, eyes bugging out of her head.
Without looking, you already know who Y/B/F is talking about. “Let me guess. Blonde. Skinny. Around 5’6, 5’7. Tits squeezed into a shirt that’s too tight.”
“Holy shit,” Duff grins. “Spot on.”
Rolling your eyes, you look over your shoulder, scoffing at how disgustingly accurate your prediction was. The blonde is leaned against the bar, arms wrapped loosely around Axl’s neck as their tongues clash in a heated kiss. Soon, he’d ditch her though, and find the next best thing. That’s just how Axl operated.
“He’s a pig,” you whisper, but Slash hears every word.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say someone is jealous.”
You scoff. “Please. I have respect for myself, you know.”
Just as you suspected, Blondie trickled back to her friends, and Axl was on the prowl. You watch as he sidles up next to a brunette this time, turning on his charm. Their tongues are down each other's throats less than a minute later.
“Man, he’s good,” Izzy pipes up for the first time that night, earning a laugh from his friends and a death stare from his fiance.
Well, at least Axl’s friends weren’t despicable, womanizing assholes. All were dating, engaged, or married. None of them ever felt the need to sleep around, even though they’ve had plenty of chances. But Axl? It sent him on some sort of power trip.
Swirling the straw in your rum and coke, you turn your eyes down at the drink, leaning a cheek on your palm. It’s a shame Axl’s personality was shitty. He was an attractive man who knew how to please a woman. Not that you’d know, but damn if you wouldn’t love to find out.
Twenty minutes later, a drunk Axl falls clumsily into the chair beside you, earning stifled laughs from his bandmates. You roll your eyes and scoot away from him, only to be stopped by his hand gripping the back of your chair.
“Where’re you going?” He smiles lazily at you.
Conveniently, you notice your empty glass and you stand. “Anywhere you’re not.”
Steven hollers loudly as Axl’s jaw immediately tenses up. Shooting him a smirk, you find yourself heading over to the bar, turning in your empty glass and ordering three tequila shots.
“Rough night?” The bartender asks as she places the shot glasses in front of you.
You groan. “You have no idea.”
The shot glass touches your lips but before you have the chance to taste the bitter liquid, a man pushes his way through the crowd, nearly knocking into you, before settling himself beside you at the bar. “I’ll take three of whatever she’s having,” Axl flauts a fifty dollar bill in his hand, sending a wink to the bartender before smirking down at you.
“Charming,” you say, downing the tequila. It burns, and you kick yourself for not ordering a few limes to go with it.
“I know, I know,” Axl gloats. “It’s one of my best traits.”
“Clearly you lack the capacity to understand sarcasm.”
Axl grabs his first glass, drinking the liquid with ease. “And clearly you lack the ability to be nice. What’s your problem, hm? You always have this stuck up, bitchy attitude. I promise you, sweetheart,” Axl’s face is dangerously close to yours, and you pray he can’t feel the heat radiating off your cheeks. “You’re not all that.”
“Oh, and you are?” On a normal day, you’d let Axl’s comments roll off your shoulders. The highlight of his day would be insulting you, teasing you, and irritating the fuck out of you. And somehow he always got to you before you could say anything back. This time, though, you’re determined to stand your ground and speak the fuck up.
“Of course I am. Take a good look at who I am, angel,” Axl holds out his arms as if he believes you’ll actually admire him. “I’m Axl fucking Rose for shit’s sake. Rock legend, millionaire, ladies man.”
“Actually,” You lean closer to him, finger rimming the shot glass. “You wanna know what I really think of you?”
“Enlighten me,” he says, teeth biting the corner of his bright pink lip. “Tell me everything I want to hear.”
“I think,” you whisper, body slightly pressing against his side. His eyes are dark, lustful, and they betray him. “That you’re a selfish, stuck up prick that never got any attention as a child, and that’s why you crave it now. You have commitment issues, which is why you’re a shag ‘em and leave ‘em type of guy. You’re a womanizing bastard and you know no woman would ever willingly choose to be with someone like you, and that is why your life revolves around sex. Sex is the only way women give you attention. And that,” your lips graze his ear. “Is truly fucking pathetic.”
Axl stares angrily as you down the second shot, staring back at him with such animosity burning in your eyes, he almost believes you truly hate him. But the hatred in your eyes is mixed with something else, and he can’t quite figure it out. As he replays your words over in his head, it hits him.
Axl isn’t prepared for the next words that come out of his mouth, but he takes a shot of tequila anyway for courage. “And I think,” he creeps closer to your body, maneuvering around the tight crowd so your back is pressed against the bar, trapping you in his arms. “That you are so beyond jealous that I haven’t fucked you yet.”
Your eyes nearly roll out of your head as Axl laughs at your expression. “Excuse me?”
“Tell me I’m wrong,” Axl prodes, eyes flickering to your lips. For a moment it seems as if he’s going to kiss you. “If I said let’s go back to my house right now, what would you say?”
“I’d say fuck no.”
“Riiiight,” he taunts, inching closer to your face. “And you actually think I believe that?”
“You should,” You briefly turn in his arms to finish the third shot before turning back, chest heaving, thoughts racing, pussy throbbing. He’s dangerously close and you need to get out of there, and fast, before you act on your thoughts. “Because I would never fuck someone whose dick has been shoved in about twenty different girls.”
“More like seventy-two, but who’s keeping track?” Axl winks, backing up to set you free.
Stomach twisting, you shoot Axl the most disgusted look you could manage. “You’ve had sex with seventy-two women?”
“And counting,” He grins, eyes racking your body. “Wanna be number seventy-three?”
One too many tequila shots later, you’re stumbling down the street with Y/B/F right behind you. The liquor had hit when you least expected, and tequila mixed with anger was a deadly combination.
“Seventy-two women!” You shout, leaning on a nearby pole to regain your balance. “He’s fucked seventy-two women,” your chuckle is empty, “And he...and he asked me, me! If I wanted to be...be his number seventy-three.”
“Does that surprise you?” Y/B/F asks. “You said it yourself. He’s a pig.”
“I know and it’s even worse because I’d love nothing more than to be number seventy-three!” Axl hit the nail on the head when he called you out for being jealous. You weren’t just jealous. No, observing his hookups with random girls and hearing stories about them the next day was infuriating. You’d never even been a choice to him.
“You don’t mean that,” says Y/B/F, helping you off the pole. “You’re just a little too drunk.”
“No, Y/B/F, I’m serious.” The purse in your hand slaps against your thigh, free hand smacking your forehead. “I’ve wanted him for years, but I’ve never been good enough. I don’t want to date him or anything, I know he’s not really into that, but goddamn it can’t a woman get a little hate sex in her life? I hate him, he can’t stand me. It’s the perfect fuck.”
Y/B/F grabs your hand, rolling their eyes as they help you inside a cab. “Jesus, Y/N, quiet down before someone hears you.”
But it was too late for that, as just a few paces away Axl stood in the back alley of the bar, phone lifted to his ear, cigarette hanging from his mouth as it narrowed in a smirk. You wanted hate sex? Oh, he’d give just that.
As you sit on your couch, TV on low volume, book in your lap, you try to ignore the aches in your body. As you discovered this morning just by emptying your guts into the toilet, tequila was not your friend. This hangover was the worst one you’d had, and even though it was your fault you’d drank too much, you’d subconsciously blame Axl for making you so hot and bothered, you felt drowning yourself in liquor was the only way to handle it.
There’s a knock on your front door and luckily you’d kept it unlocked. You had no intention of moving from the couch other than to go to the bathroom. “It’s open!”
Your eyes don’t leave the page in front of you, too engrossed in the scene playing out, until the all familiar voice has you slowly looking up from the book. “You look like shit.”
“Always the charmer, eh, Axl?” Snapping your book shut, you chuck it beside you, pulling the blanket to your chin. “What do you want?”
Your pupils dilate as Axl pulls his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Wandering eyes run over his chest. He’s not like other men. He doesn’t have hard pectorals or the outline of six pack abs, and you like that about him. You also like that he’s standing in front of you shirtless, but you don’t have a guess as to why. “Two words. Hate sex.”
Your breath hitches as he moves toward you. Instinctively, you shoot off the couch. “I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about, but you need to get out of here right now.”
“Cute shorts,” Axl gestures to the soft gray pajama bottoms that are two sizes too short, the curve of your ass peeking out, giving him a show. “And you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
You move around the couch, Axl watching you like his prey. His thumbs are hooked around the belt loops on his jeans as he shuffles his feet along the floor.
“I was drunk,” you admit, eyes flitting around the room, looking at anything other than the man in front of you.
“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” He says back, folding his arms across his chest. “I know you’re not a huge fan of me. I don’t particularly like you either. But what I do like is sex,” The bulge in his pants hardens, and you beg yourself not to look. “So, how about it, sweetheart?”
You hate the effect he has on you. He knows you want him, he knows he has total control over you now. But you can’t give into him. You won’t. “Get out.”
His demeanor falls briefly, as if maybe he’d read you wrong. “Are you serious?”
“I said get out, Axl.” Walking around the couch, you position yourself in front of him, lightly pushing his chest. “Now.”
He doesn’t budge. “You’re joking.”
“I said get out.”
His head tilts, but he backs up slowly. You follow him toward the door, heart thumping against your chest. Fucking hell, this was your chance! Why were you kicking him out?
“So last night was just a lie,” Axl responds, pursing his lips.
“No, Axl, it wasn’t a fucking lie,” Again, you shove his chest. “I want you. I really fucking want you. But for the six years we’ve known each other, you’ve never given me so much as a fucking wink. For some reason, I’ve never been good enough for you to fuck.”
“And that pisses you off, doesn’t it?” Axl taunts, shoulder leaning against the doorframe. “I knew you were jealous. And I’ve got to be honest, it looks hot on you.”
“Just go, Axl.”
“You don’t want me to go,” his voice is low, raspy, and if he doesn’t leave now, you may just pull him back in. “I know you don’t.”
“Axl, goddamn it--.”
His hand wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you into his body, lips molding against yours. His lips feel just as you imagined. Warm and soft.
He moves them against your mouth with such expertise it was easy to let him guide you. With his free hand he shuts the door behind him as you cling to his body, locking your arms behind his head.
His tongue explores your mouth, claiming you with each sweep of his tongue. He sucks your bottom lip and a moan escapes you. He kisses like an angel, but he’s anything but.
Axl’s hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, the curve of your ass. He whispers “jump” into your mouth and you do, legs locking around his waist, never breaking the kiss. Heat crackles between the two of you, and you’re overwhelmed with the need to feel his skin.
Axl walks the two of you back into the living room, gently lying you on the couch. His lips disconnect from yours and you groan in want, but his lips find their way to your neck and you relax.
“So needy,” he whispers against the base of your throat. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt. “This is in the way.” In a swift motion, Axl rids you of your shirt, running the tip of my tongue over each of your nipples. They perk, and he smirks before closing his lips around the bud, flicking his tongue and softly biting the peaks. Arching your back forces more of your breast in his mouth, and you hook a leg around his waist, bucking your hips upward. “I need you.”
“Be a good girl and wait,” He demands, licking and kissing a line down your belly. He stops at your shorts, kissing your navel once before slowly dragging the shorts down your legs. He kisses the top of your underwear line, lowering his head until his mouth hovers above your clothed center, gently kissing the fabric. Your hips thrust upward in a frenzy. “Touch me, please.”
He says nothing as he takes his time pulling down your underwear. It’s been months since you’d been intimate, and the shyness takes over. Your legs try to squeeze shut, but Axl pushes them back open again. “You’re not hiding from me. I’ll stare at your pussy all day if I want to.”
His tongue licks a stripe up your center before disappearing between your silky folds. Wetness gathers between your thighs and he laps at it, sending a shutter of pleasure throughout your body. He licks and licks, using the tip and flattening his tongue, but what sends you over the edge is his lips sucking your clit into his mouth.
Your toes are curling and your chest is heaving. You do your best to suck in heaps of air, but you can’t focus on breathing as his tongue swirls around your clit.
You want to watch him. Back resting against the couch pillow, you hold yourself up on your elbows just in time to see Axl spit on your pussy. His thumb spreads the saliva across your clit, flicking it rather quickly.
His middle finger slides into your hole, wetness coating the digit as it pumps in and out of your folds. Axl adds his ring finger next, using his free hand to spread you open more. “So tight, sweetheart. Gotta loosen you up a bit so you can take my cock.”
You moan at the vulgarness of his words. This what exactly how you’d pictured sex with Axl. The dirty talk. The fingering. The gentle licks on your clit. This is what you’d been fucking wait for.
Your head falls back as his tongue finds your pussy again, the sensation of his fingers and tongue making your head fall back. “Fuck, fuck, Axl.”
“Yes, baby, I’m gonna fuck you.”
Cold air hits your clit as Axl pulls back, hands finding his jeans and pulling them down his legs. He kicks them off to the side, eyes locking with yours as he fists himself through his boxers. You reach out for him but he slaps your hand away, sliding the boxers down his thighs. His cock springs to life, thankful to not be constricted any longer. He’s long and hard with a few veins on the underside, and you whimper at the sight of precum that dribbles down the head. “Sit up.”
At that point, you’ll do anything he says. Axl sits, hand stroking his dick as you crawl over him, positioning your pussy directly over his cock. You lower yourself a bit, clit brushing against the soft head, and even Axl moans this time. His hands grab your hips, and together you lower yourself down, stifling a cry as his dick forces itself inside your hole, stretching your walls.
Axl’s mouth falls open as you sink yourself lower onto his cock. His hands never leave your hips, but instead aids in the bouncing of your ass against his thighs as you maneuver yourself up and down, up and down. Your tits are perched perfectly in front of him and he licks his lips in delight as he captures a nipple, swirling his tongue in circles.
Your body explodes in pleasure, from the tongue on your breasts to the dick burying itself in your cunt. Hands on Axl’s chest, you balance yourself over top of him, slightly craning your head back to watch as his cock slides in and out of your slick pussy.
Axl’s hand grips your face, turning you back to face him. “This is what you wanted?” He grunts out, hips thrusting upward to meet your hips. “You wanted me to fuck you like a whore?”
Your toes curl. Your legs squeeze against his thighs. Your head falls forward against his, breath fanning over his face as his hand squeezes your jawline. This is all you wanted, and even if you had to wait six years for it, it was worth it.
“Come on, ride my cock.” He grunts harshly as your hips pound against his legs, riding his dick as if there were no tomorrow. Like your life depended on it.
Your pussy clenches around him, and that all too familiar bubble in the pit of your belly only grows as Axl continues his pounding into you. He thrusts at lightning speed, and you’re so caught off guard you reach for the back of the couch, holding on as he fucks the daylights out of you.
“Axl! Shit, shit,” His balls slap against your underside, arms wrapping around your middle to steady you against him. “I’m gonna--fuck I’m--coming!”
Your thighs shake violently as you come, juices spilling out of your pussy, dripping down your legs, and puddling on Axl’s thighs. His load shoots into you and he pulls your forward, nuzzling his face between your breasts, breathing hard. With every twitch of his cock, you moan a little louder.
You close your eyes, steadying your breath as you come down from your sex high. Axl licks his lips, eyes trained on your mouth, and you lean in to kiss him, but your lips never meet as he pulls back.
“This can’t happen again.”
The words stun you as he slides his cock out of you. He stands from the couch, pulling on his boxers and pants before pulling his shirt down over his head, leaving you to process his words. This can’t happen again. Why the hell not?
“Wait, what?” You shoot off the couch, flustered and completely naked. Axl’s eyes run up and down your body, and you can see it in his face, he wants you. But something is holding him back. “I just had the best fucking day of my life, and you tell me it’ll never happen again?”
He shrugs, finishing the button on his jeans. There’s something sad in his eyes, and your heart breaks. “I don’t fuck the same girl twice.”
He turns, and you chase after him. Axl just gets to the door before you grab his arm, forcing him to turn around and look at you. “So that’s fucking it? You’re just going to leave?”
Axl nods, biting the corner of his mouth. “One and done, sweetheart. That’s all I can offer you.”
“But,” you stutter, unable to control the tears pricking your eyes. “But I thought-.”
“That fucking you would be different?” He asks, swallowing nervously as the tears in your eyes break free. Damn it. He wanted to be gone before the waterworks started. “That I’d want to be with you? We’re enemies, Y/N. Our personalities clash. You’re a bitch and I’m...well...you were right. I’m a bastard that only wants sex. You were never an exception,” Axl blows out a breath and watches as your face falls dejectedly. “You were just number seventy-three.”
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Rev Recaps Hard Contact (Chapter 16)
After last chapter, I had two glasses of moscato, so we’ll see how this goes.
CW: repeated mentions of rotting animal corpses/smell, characters getting covered in sewage (again), claustrophobia, mind influence
TL;DR Recap: Atin and Darman go through the gdan warrens into Uthan’s facility and discover they’re claustrophobic. Niner blows up the villa to cover the explosives Darman is using to enter the facility, and Majestic bombs some droids from orbit. Etain tries her best to be helpful. The blogger makes fun of both Atin and Dar for their explosives use. Atin and Dar find Uthan.
Beginning Kal Count: 30 Ending Kal Count: 32
So we’re gonna open up in Darman’s point of view.
I don’t know shit about guns. I live in Texas, but have never held, much less shot one. Does this mean that Atin has his finger on the trigger or is holding it just above it in the little circle thingy?
Also, Darman, sweetheart. Being the bomb factory does not stop you from blowing up. Just saying.
Kal Count is upped to 31, but mainly I just kinda love this quote. If you’ve read Triple Zero, then you may join me in the delicious irony of them wanting black armor this entire mission for disguise purposes only to finally get it right before a mission to Fest. Thus proving Atin’s point above. Anyway Jinart is sniffing echolocating her way along ahead of them, and eventually comes to a stop and points out the entrance to the gdan tunnels. They need to crawl through the warrens in order to capture Uthan inside the facility... so of course this is the moment that Atin and Dar both find out that they’re claustrophobic:
I’m not even claustrophobic, and it sounds miserable to me, to be quite honest. But, on a more... pointed, note. Izzy has already explained much more fluently than me how much this scene means Kal is an absolute shit planner. Because Kal built a home on Mandalore that was supposed to be a safe haven for any clone deserters who wanted to become Mandalorian in True Colors/Order 66... but Kyrimorut was built at least partially underground and partially uses underground tunnels both as exits and as connections.
I’m just saying, as we go through this chapter... we’re gonna see why that might be an issue.But first-
Listen, I may hate Jinart, but this scene makes me laugh pretty much every time. Every time. No inspirational metaphors for Atin, and Jinart is 100% scowling at him.
They continue on through the tunnels, and honestly the details get gross. Not just in the typical “fantasy escape through sewers trope” kind of way, but Darman smells something rotten that reminds him of bodies and Geonosis, so on top of his dizziness from the claustrophobia, he now has nausea, as does Atin. They ask Jinart about it and her first reply misses the point:
Listen, my guy tells me this is some sort of health code violaton, but I know fuck all about plumbing. And no, that is not all they can smell, but Jinart apparently doesn’t notice the smell of decomposition until it’s pointed out to her. Jinart eventually realizes what they’re talking about and assures them that it’s from the gdan’s prey. Darman feels relieved for at least a moment (that stops when he sticks his hands in entrails) but I’d just like to point out that the gdan, while primarily hunting merlies, have tried to eat our human protagonists literally every time they step foot outside. Anyway, Darman puts his hand in entrails, has a flashback of Skirata running next to him in something called the “sickener” which was essentially training in a pit full of nerf entrails, and struggles not to throw up in his sealed helmet. Joyful.
Kal Count is now 32.
Eventually they reach a larger chamber where Dar and Atin start digging out their tunnel to the pipes under the facility and Jinart leaves them to go back to Niner after Dar sends her away. Darman notes that it would only take one or two shots from the rifle to clear, but that would bring the roof AND a bunch of droids on top of them, so he and Atin keep working and sweating like pigs.Once they dig close enough, Darman uses their battering ram to break into the drain, and is promptly covered in a spray of shit from the pipes. This sends both him and Atin into hysterics, because again, they’re both not doing well in the confined space and are exhausted.
“Darman had never even seen the man smile.” And the first time is when Darman is covered in shit from a sewer pipe. Darman comms Niner to tell him they’re almost through, and the scene switches to Niner’s point of view.
Dar explains that they’re stuck at a filter in the pipe that will have to be blown open with explosives because it’s permacreted in. Darman asks for two minutes to set the charge, and Niner worries the entire time. He, Fi, and Etain don’t have anything to do yet, but he’s worried for Dar and Atin.
Niner is literally counting seconds and dealing with anxiety, Fi is calmly waiting with the cannon... and Etain is pacing. This is her nervous habit. Like, I had already headcanoned that, but it’s nice to be confirmed by canon. Even if Niner wants to chastise her for it and can’t.
Man, he’s literally counting the seconds. Etain is the queen of asking well-intentioned but awkward as hell questions, and I’m pretty sure the lack of “ma’am” is the closest Niner is every going to get to saying “fuck you”. I could definitely live without yet another mention of mind influence, but as I say, addressed in Triple Zero... and at least Niner’s not nauseated anymore I guess?
They blow the filter on the facility and the bombs in the villa at the same time to disguise Atin and Darman’s entrance. Droids start coming out of the facility, which is disguised with a barn, to investigate, but Niner orders Fi & the E-Web to wait and tries to dismiss Etain/get her out of the way.
Etain is already not content with her Trandoshan shotgun array blaster or Traviss has forgotten she has it, which isn’t unlikely. She wants the concussion rifle instead (looking at it “longingly” already!), and she wants a job to do.
Niner gives Fi the go ahead, so he opens up with the E-Web (which again a literal, actual cannon) and starts firing, with Niner assisting via grenades. The entire time, they’re being rained on with “hot, metal shrapnel”. But the droids stop advancing. so then Niner asks Majestic to bomb them from orbit if the droids start headed towards them from another direction.
Other than Fi’s comment, I’m not particularly sure why Niner expects Etain to be “in distress”. Or how he missed the fact that he was almost decapitated by shrapnel until Etain deflected it. Ngl it took me several readings of this scene to even parse the exact sequence of events. BUT it is nice for Etain to finally, actually get to be useful to Niner and Fi and do Jedi things without everyone including her beating her up about her weakness.
The scene cuts back to Niner & Dar, who have successfully made it in to Uthan’s facility:
Apparently if you leave Darman and Atin alone together without Niner or some other regulating force, you just get unending sass.
Dar has no idea what’s dangerous and what isn’t, so they decide to just explode everything, to be on the safe side. They make it through the inner chamber and are approaching the front of the complex, but haven’t seen anything yet. Majestic is bombing things outside. Dar is literally sticking high-burning explosives to everything he can.
“Disappointingly small” Darman please.
Darman. Why are you opening the potential virus box, Darman.
You can’t set in NEXT to the potential virus box? Like the box is somehow gonna withstand that charge?
Yes, Atin, the fridge door is going to withstand the military grade explosives.
Anyway, Atin uses a mini emp to partially unseal a containment door, which is useful and also will later screw them over. It raises just enough for Dar to wedge something under it and the two of them the muscle it open, and then they start the “house clearing” portion of the op, headed into the part of the facility that’s actually inhabited. Droids and Separatists pin them down, so they comm to Fi & Niner. Then things get worse as they’re pinned in place by bulkheads.
So things are not looking great. They’re trapped by bulkheads, surrounded by Seps on the other side of those bulk heads, they no longer have access to their explosives.
I had to google what “half look different” meant. Like, I was pretty sure it meant “really” but I had to use google to confirm. Provided the British don’t also use a different connotation of “amazing” when using it in slang though... Atin likes Uthan’s hair?
Anyway, they found the mad scientist trying to kill them, and she’s armed and trapped in a confined space with them, so we hit a pretty good cliffhanger here, or would’ve if this were an episode and not a chapter.
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“You Used To Love Me” Michael Gray Fan Fiction - Chapter 6
A/N: hehehe here we gooo... chapter six!!!
Just a side note - I don’t want this Chapter to encourage women fighting or blaming the other woman for a mans behaviour - I believe in women sticking together! However, this chapter does contain some toxic female behaviour that we as humans fall into from time to time, that I do not condone !
I hope you enjoy my loves xx
I fiddle with my hands, bouncing my leg nervously in my chair as we wait for Michael and Gina to arrive to the meeting. They have no idea I’m going to be here. And honestly, I kind of wish I wasn’t here right now either. Tommy, Arthur and Polly all sit around the table as well, trying also act like they’re not nervous.
I couldn’t care less about what Gina might say. Or do. I just can’t stand to see Michael.
But before I have the opportunity to completely back out of this, the door knob turns and the both of them enter through the door. I jolt with shock in my seat, as my nerves are on high alert. Anything would set me off right now. They stall in the hall way first, as Michael takes off Gina’s coat. As I notice my heart rate elevating, I also notice that I’m staring at them.
God what do I do? Where am I supposed to look?
Michael walks into the room first before Gina, taking his hat of and looks up to greet everyone. His eyes shoot to me immediately. They widen. He stops dead in his tracks, like he’s just run into an invisible wall. He looks so pale that I could have sworn I physically saw the blood drain from his face. Hell, I’m sure mine’s not much different.
I will never get used to seeing him like this. Seeing us like this. Together in a room and not being greeting each other with a smile and a kiss, but instead with silent stares and tension that you could cut with a knife. This isn’t us. This will never be normal. No matter how much I am around him, this will always feel completely wrong. I have to face it; I feel completely wrong being in this world without him by my side.
I’m distracted from my thoughts when from behind the collar of his shirt I see him swallow, hard.
That is not like Michael. I know him. No matter how much he may feel like a stranger now, I still know him inside and out. And I know he has a poker face to kill. Under pressure, Michael is cold. Calm. Collected. He has to be in this business. But right now, I can see every single micro expression.
Why would he be acting like this if he hates me? If he truly doesn’t care for me anymore, if he doesn’t love me, then how come every time he see’s me he looks like a nervous school boy?
What is going on in your head, Michael Gray?
The painful silence of the room is bursted like a bubble when Gina walks into the room behind Michael.
And just like her husband, she freezes in her tracks. But unlike him, she doesn’t stand there speechless. Her face distorts into a scowl immediately as she eyes me up and down with disgust.
“What is she doing here?” she asks, not to dissimilar from a snake hissing.
I scoff, shaking my head. You’ve gotta hand it to her, she’s got some fucking balls. More balls than Michael.
“Trust me, I’m not thrilled about it either sweetheart” I reply, forcing a tight smile at her.
“Take a seat, Gina” Polly warns Gina, her voice harsh.
She keeps her eyes glued on me like a hawk, as Michael quickly launches into action and pulls out a chair for her and him to sit down at the table.
“Isabelle” Tommy begins, emphasising my name “Is here to work for us again, for the family” he emphasises “since thats what she is”
Gina’s mouth shoots open immediately, ready to interject. As if she has the right to speak up in a family meeting anyway. She’s hardly family. A ring doesn’t make you family.
“I’m not done,” Tommy growls, and Gina blinks rapidly. Not used to being told no, I assume.
“I don’t give a damn what anyone here thinks about this decision. I don’t give a damn about whatever has gone on here. If you’re as smart a business man as you want us to treat you as Michael, than I would think you can look past you and your wifes own personal… demands… to see that this is what the business needs. This isn’t about what you need. This is about the business” Tommy stops, letting it soak in “And she’s the best at what she does. The best we’ve ever had working for Shelby Limited. You can’t deny that, Michael. And we need her back. We need you back, Izzy”
There’s silence. Not that I expected Gina and Michael to be jumping for joy. I don’t dare look at Michael. I don’t want to see the look on his face. So I keep my eyes glued to the table.
“Now if anyone wants to speak, then speak. Gina, I’m sure you have something to say” Tommy scoffs as he sticks a cigarette in his mouth “Whatever you have to say, get it of your chest now. Because from this point forward, I won’t hear a word of it”
Tommy looks over at me, signalling me to speak. I shake my head at Tommy. He knows I have nothing to say to Michael. To Gina. To anyone.
I wait nervously as Tommy nods, turning his attention to Michael. But Michael doesn’t speak either.
When no one speaks, a baffled Gina begins to scoff and huff. Upset that she’s not getting her way I suppose. What do they call that? A tantrum?
“So that’s it? We don’t get to vote on this? Isn’t that what happens at these family meetings” She throws her hands up in the air before bringing them back down to slap the table.
I look up ever so slightly to see Tommy shaking his head, rubbing it in irritation at Gina squawking at him in her American accent.
To my left I spot Arthur, who is stifling a laugh as he takes a swig of his drink. A woman like Gina isn’t common around here- the way she carries on like it’s her god given right- I’m sure Arthur thinks the circus has come to town.
“This isn’t a voting matter” Tommy says, his voice firm “This is final”
But of course, Gina won’t take no for an answer. She turns her fit of anger towards Michael.
“Michael?” She begins, her voice high and shrill as she glares at him in bewilderment “Baby you’re not going to say anything? You know how this… how she… makes me feel” She hisses in his ear.
You’ve got yourself in trouble here haven’t you, Michael.
It’s a double edged sword, this is. And he knows it. I see him staring, paralysed, in the corner of my eyes. If he does stand up for Gina everyone in this room will think he’s completely brainwashed this time, they will never take his word about the business. But if he doesn’t speak up, he’s going to feel Gina’s wrath and it’s not pretty. And who knows what consequences that might hold for everyone. She already seems to have Michael strung up like her very own puppet. I’m betting he would do anything to appease an angry Gina. Maybe that’s how he got into this mess in the first place. One big old tantrum and the only way to suffice her rage was marriage? Of course I don’t know. But it doesn’t seem that unrealistic now that I’m learning more about this wicked woman he is married to.
Her demands at Michael drone on, and I can see the tension from Arthur, Polly and Tommy growing rapidly.
Tommy is about to explode. Jaw clenched tight, he glares at Michael, waiting impatiently for him to pull Gina back into line. Polly looks like she’s about to take a hand across Gina’s face. If this gets out of control, the fall out would be horrific. Gina may force Michael to cut ties with the family completely. Never see us again.
Finally, I look at Michael, who I’m shocked to find is already staring at me. Eyes widened, panicked, and screaming. He looks desperate for someone to say something. Before he does.
“Gina” I shout suddenly, almost taken aback by my own voice. But I remain steady, strong. I’ve opened my mouth now. I cannot back down. This needs to stop. Everyone’s heads shoot towards me, including Gina’s. She stares at me. Eyes wide open. Lips pursed tightly. I realise we’ve actually never spoken before. If I’m lucky this will be one of very few times I have to converse with such a horrid woman. I can feel Michael’s eyes burning into my like hot beams. I can’t imagine the back flips his stomach is doing waiting for what I might say. Actually, I can imagine. That’s exactly how he made me feel the day he came to visit me in my apartment. Good. I hope it hurts just as badly as it did for me. I turn in my seat, facing Gina head on.
“You want to live here, right? In your big house in the country? With your husband? Lot’s of kids? Well I promise you, that I will make this company enough money for you to buy your precious mansion 5 times over. Because despite your conspiracy, I have no desire to ruin your marriage. So just let me do my job, and I’ll stay out of your way while I do it. Deal?”
“Like I would take your word” she grills me “I know what your agenda is here”
I momentarily flicker my eyes towards Michael, and watch his move uncomfortably in his seat. Squirming.
“Actually my agenda was to be anywhere but here. I was abiding by you and your husbands demands. Gladly. But here we are”
“So you’re telling me I have to believe you’re just here to work? Seriously?”
“What do you think I have to gain from this, Gina?”
“Everything” she replies, and that word guts me. Everything. I thought I had everything. But my everything is hers now.
“I already lost that” I say, shaking my head. Without needing specifics, she know’s exactly what I’m talking about. I lost my everything to her.
Gina stares at me, her jaw clenching like she has many words she would like to say to me right now, but she never speaks.
Because she knows I’m right. And if she is as smart as she is cunning and calculating, then she is realising that her mouth should stay shut.
She folds her arms across her chest, then sits back in her seat.
“Michael? Anything to add?” Tommy pushes him to speak.
“It’s whats best for the business” his voice is low and gruff.
Gina’s head shoots towards him, and her face twists into a look I’ve never seen before. She is absolutely fuming.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” She exclaims “Are you serious right now Michael?”
He doesn’t dare reply.
“I think he’s serious, sweetheart” Polly says, when Michael doesn’t speak.
With a huff she stands abruptly, shoving her chair back.
“Don’t you see it? She is jealous! She’s here to worm her way in between us and ruin our marriage-“
“Gina that is enough!” Michael’s voice booms through the room as he shouts at his wife.
Michael never raises his voice. He certainly never raised it at me. Not even once. And rarely at anyone else. He always said he thought people only yelled to overcompensate. That fact that she pushed him to that point, speaks volumes. But his yelling isn’t the only thing that shocks me. The realisation soon sets in that he just… defended me….
Everyone’s eyes are glued to Gina as her neck grows into a bright red, followed quickly by her cheeks blushing violently.
She spins on her heels rapidly, storming out of the room. We listen as she snatches her coat of the hanger and blazes out the front door, slamming it behind her with rage.
Michael rubs the back of his neck, his head hanging in defeat and embarrassment.
“Michael, I’m sorry-“ I breathe, feeling horrible. This is all my fault. I should never have come here.
He stands to leave, straightening his tie and his collar nervously before he looks over at me.
“No, I’m sorry Izzy” he shakes his head at me, his voice quiet. Our eyes lock, once again. He holds my gaze this time. He looks… tired. Completely exhausted. He leaves the room, and soon after we hear him leave through the front door.
I stare in his direction. Frozen. Why was he… defending me? Why was he going against Gina for my sake? And I’m terrified. Terrified of the consequences and punishment he will suffer from for doing so.
“Are you okay?” I hear Polly ask, and I nod my head, but I don’t mean it. I’m just in autopilot. I couldn’t be more confused. The way he looked at me… his face shrouded in shame, regret, exhaustion, defeat, sorrow, guilt. All of those and a million others that would take me hours to comb through and differentiate.
Now I know what they meant. Tommy, Polly and Arthur. When they talked about something not being quite right. About something hiding behind his eyes. That he is different with Gina…
Does Michael still have feelings for me? He used to. All of that love, that bond, cannot just disappear. Maybe I haven’t lost him. Not completely. Maybe my Michael is still there… But what is he hiding?
Does Michael still love me?
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Being Supportive | Read on archive.
Alec knew his boyfriend made music. He just didn't know other people knew Magnus made music.
Or, how Alec Lightwood finally figured out that his boyfriend is famous and how he started a storm on twitter in the process.
Alec hadn’t known Magnus was famous. No one believed that he hadn’t known, of course. How could he not have known? How could he have been dating him for that long and not realized? How had he not looked online? How had he not seen his photos on the cover of every magazine in the city?
The answer was that Alec was just really, really oblivious. He had no clue who any of the celebrities Izzy talked about were. He didn’t recognize anyone in movies or on TV shows. He never knew any of the guests on those morning talk shows. He never knew who the singers on the radio were and social media, that was a whole other mess that Alec didn’t understand.
Alec had a twitter account but he didn’t even really know what twitter was. He retweeted Izzy’s stuff sometimes, whatever that meant. Sometimes, he’d click the little heart on stuff but that was really the extent of how he used it, despite Izzy’s valiant attempts to make Alec use it more. He had facebook but all he did was post photos of his siblings, when they insisted he do so. He had maybe twenty friends on facebook and all the other ones, snapchat and instagram, he hadn’t even bothered with.
How was he supposed to know Magnus was famous? It wasn’t like Magnus had some magical aura around him that let everyone know- or, well Alec found everything about him rather magically but it had nothing to do with the fact that apparently, everyone in the world knew who he was.
Magnus hadn’t said anything either. Magnus hadn’t told him.
Well, he’d told Alec he made music but how was Alec supposed to know he actually made music; music that people listened to, music that played on the radio, music that had been a top hit on Spotify for over a month (whatever that meant). Magnus was one of hundreds of people in New York that ‘made music’ and of course, Alec had wanted to hear it when Magnus had told him.
He wanted to hear anything Magnus made because he was so different from the other hundreds of people but that didn’t mean Alec knew other people also wanted to listen to the music Magnus made. Magnus showed him some slow song, one that apparently hadn’t been released yet, one that Izzy freaked out about knowing he’d heard the demo before anyone else but Alec didn’t know it was a real song that was being produced.
It was a good song. It had nothing to do with Magnus’ music or how good it had been. The song had been amazing. Magnus’ voice was something Alec never wanted to stop listening to but Alec just didn’t know Magnus was famous. He didn’t know he had thousands of followers on twitter. He didn’t know he was verified (which was a big deal, Alec had picked up).
He just didn’t know. So, he hadn’t thought anything of posting a photo of he and Magnus. Izzy had been bugging him for weeks to show her his new boyfriend and even that early, Alec had been sure he loved Magnus. He wanted to show him off. He wanted to show everyone how pretty his boyfriend was.
So, he posted it on Twitter. His parents were friends with him on facebook still and he hadn’t really wanted to deal with whatever they’d say. So, he’d posted it on twitter for Izzy and Jace to see. He figured Izzy would be thrilled he’d made a post. It was just a simple photo, one of he and Magnus smiling on the last date they’d gone on.
Alec texted Izzy after, asking, ‘Did you see him?’ to which she replied, ‘That’s not your boyfriend,’ much to Alec’s confusion and disappointment. That was rude of her and it wasn’t exactly the joyous response Alec had expected back. He’d expected Izzy to go on about how handsome Magnus was and how nice his make up was but…
That was okay. Alec responded with a simple question mark and then, he’d put his phone down for the day. He worked from home, so even though he could keep his phone on him, he always chose not to. He’d plug it in across the room and leave it for nearly eight hours, so he knew he could concentrate. His phone rang if someone called more than three times, so Alec knew everyone could get a hold of him if they really needed to and it rang for Magnus always, so Alec just didn’t need it.
It was almost four hours later when his phone did ring. It was Magnus. Alec could tell instantly because Magnus had a special ringtone, of course. Alec hadn’t thought much of him calling. It was nearly Alec’s lunch and Magnus tried to call him on his lunch, if he wasn’t working.
Alec saw the notifications on his phone as he picked it up and he was confused because no one ever interacted with anything he did. It must be Izzy or Jace or those notifications from the games he’d downloaded once and then never used. Alec hardly even looked. He’d check it after. The only thing that mattered was that Magnus was calling him.
Alec answered, grinning before he could even greet him. “Hey.” He said, a little breathless in his excitement. Magnus was away this week, so they hadn’t seen each other in a few days. Alec missed him already.
“Hi, Sweetheart.” Magnus greeted just as cheerfully. Alec could hear people in the background, talking. It sounded like a lot of noise and Alec wondered where he was. “How’s work?”
Alec glanced over the mess of papers he was still editing on his desk. He worked for a publishing company and the main part of his job was reading through manuscripts and catching mistakes. Alec liked his work. He liked reading and he was good at what he did but it was draining some days, when he just didn’t feel like doing it.
“It’s okay.” Alec said finally. “I’m nearly through that script I showed you last week. I won’t spoil the ending for you but you were pretty close.”
Magnus hummed, a soft chuckle bubbling from his lips. “Was I?” He asked, clearly pleased with himself. “I wasn’t sure if she’d end up killing him or if he’d run off somewhere, never to be seen again.” Magnus continued. He liked reading the beginning of the scripts Alec worked on and trying to guess what happened in the end. He was pretty good at it.
“Well, you’re going to have to read it yourself when it comes out but-” Alec trailed off, teasing like he wasn’t going to tell him for a moment. “She super kills him.”
Across the phone, Magnus laughed. “I knew she did.” He insisted, like he hadn’t just admitted he’d been unsure a moment before. Alec let him have the win without commenting. “I bet it was gruesome too.”
Alec laughed along with him. It had been gruesome but Magnus would never guess how she’d done it. “You’re going to have to read it.” He insisted. “You’re never going to guess how it happened. It involves a pool ball and that’s all I’m saying.”
“Well, then you’ll have to buy it for me when it comes out.”
“I suppose I will.” Alec agreed easily. He’d buy Magnus whatever he wanted. “What are you doing?” He asked, finally having a lull in the conversation to ask. “It’s loud.”
“Oh, I’m still at work.” At that, Alec frowned. Normally, when Magnus was working he didn’t call. “I just heard-” Magnus paused for a moment and then continued, changing his wording. “Did you post a photo of us on twitter?”
Alec frowned deeper. “Uh, yeah. Izzy’s been bothering me to post a photo of us and I have my parents on facebook-” Alec trailed off frowning deeper. He didn’t even think Magnus followed him on twitter. He didn’t use it enough to have Magnus follow him. “How did you know that?” He asked, the confusion evident in his tone.
“A few people sent it to me.” Magnus said, confusing Alec even more. “Quite a few people actually.”
Alec stayed silent, hoping Magnus would explain further but he didn’t. “How- I didn’t think any of your friends followed me on twitter.” Alec said finally. He knew Magnus had friends that used twitter a lot but again, Alec didn’t even use his. He had maybe ten posts on it.
“I don’t think any of them did.” Magnus replied. “Someone must have just seen it and retweeted it, so a bunch of other people saw it and retweeted it.”
Alec would have been offended at Magnus’ tone, if he hadn't been even more confused by the explanation. Alec didn’t need him to explain what retweeting was. He understood that, at least he thought he did. “Oh.” Alec said finally, his brows furrowed deeply as he tried to figure out what was going on. Was Magnus mad he’d posted it? Alec thought Magnus’ friends knew about him but maybe- “Should I not have posted it?” Alec asked softly, his heart breaking a little at the thought.
They’d only been dating for a few months and Alec tried to remind himself of that. Maybe, Magnus hadn’t told anyone. Maybe, Magnus was seeing someone else.
“No, it’s fine.” Magnus insisted and the worry practically melted off Alec’s shoulders as he spoke. Alec could tell by Magnus’ tone that it was fine but then, why was Magnus calling? “You just might have a lot of people following you and bothering you now. I wasn’t sure if you would be okay with that.”
“Oh.” Alec blinked. “Why would people bother me?” He asked softly, still not comprehending what Magnus was trying to say. He thought Magnus was trying to tell him that people were upset Alec had posted it or that people didn’t like him. Exactly what people, Alec still didn’t know.
For a moment, Magnus didn’t answer. He didn’t seem to know what to say but when he finally spoke, he sounded a little amused. “Just because I have a lot of followers online.”
Alec pondered that for a moment. “Because of your music?” He asked softly.
“Yes.” Magnus replied, sounding just as amused as he had been a moment before. “Because of my music.” Magnus chuckled softly as he spoke and then asked, “Is it okay if I retweet it and confirm that you’re my boyfriend so people can stop speculating?”
At that, Alec frowned deeper. He didn’t understand why Magnus was asking. He’d posted it, obviously he’d wanted his family and his friends to know about Magnus. Why would Magnus ask if he could do the same? Unless, Magnus thought he was worried it would get back to his parents.
That must be it. It was actually kind of sweet he’d ask. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Alec said finally, not really knowing what he was agreeing to at all.
“Okay, good.” Magnus moved and there was a sound on the other side of the phone, like someone among the chorus of voices had yelled Magnus’ name. “I have to go.” Magnus said, after he’d yelled something back. “I’ll call you tonight. Okay?”
“Okay, have fun at work.” Alec said, still a little dazed with the whole conversation.
“You too.” Magnus said before ending the call.
Alec stood for a moment in the dead silence that Magnus had left, still feeling like he was missing something about the conversation they’d just had. Finally, he moved and looked down at his phone screen and he knew by the sight that met him that he had missed something.
It was only then that Alec saw that amount of notification he really had on his phone. He didn’t even know he had notifications set for twitter before now. That’s how little he used the app but now, scrolling down his screen for just a moment, Alec saw that he had to have well over a hundred notifications.
He’d assumed it was Izzy and Jace, the only people who ever sent him anything, but this was people he didn’t even know. Alec opened twitter frowning as he tried to find where to see the notifications he was getting. Finally, he found the little button and when he opened it on the app, nothing was any clearer.
People were retweeting the post, most people adding some little comment that Alec didn’t really understand. People were asking if he was really Magnus’ new boyfriend. Some people were arguing with others, insisting that of course Alec wasn’t otherwise Magnus would have posted it. Some people were talking about Magnus’ hair and how the photo was clearly from last week. Some people were insisting that Alec was just really good at photoshop, which Alec found a little funny.
He wouldn't even know how to download photoshop, let alone use it and besides, why would he photoshop pictures of he and his boyfriend? For a moment, Alec still didn’t understand what was happening. He thought maybe people didn’t believe they were together because of how pretty Magnus was.
That was the only thing that made sense. Alec knew Magnus was way out of his league but… Alec worked out. He didn’t think he looked that horrible, horrible enough to invoke a bunch of people insisting he was lying about his boyfriend.
It was only when Alec noticed the usernames of the people retweeting his post that he realized something else might be going on. He’d thought it was Magnus for a second but what the person had said didn’t sound like Magnus at all and then Alec kept scrolling and he realized that most of the people had Magnus in their name, or some variation of his name. Some people spelled it with little X’s thrown in, some people spelled it just slightly wrong but it was clear it was Magnus’ name.
Magnus’ name couldn’t be that common. Alec had never even heard of someone having that name before and yet… It wasn’t until Alec clicked one of the profiles that he put it together. Someone had just retweeted it, talking about how ‘juicy’ Alec was (whatever that meant) and their profile picture was Magnus.
It wasn’t someone using his name, it was Alec’s Magnus. Why did this person have a photo of Magnus in the first place? Wasn’t that weird? Did Magnus have a bunch of stalkers he’d failed to tell Alec about? Alec panicked for a second, thinking he should call Izzy and ask how to delete the photo when someone else retweeted it.
The username was Magnus but it wasn’t spelled wrong this time and the words that went along with it reminded Alec enough of his boyfriend that he clicked it quickly before it could be lost among the sea of notifications he was getting.
This profile was Magnus’ or Alec was pretty sure it was. The person typed like Magnus and the message that went along with it had to be Magnus. He’d written simple, ‘You can stop DMing me. This is indeed my sweet boyfriend, who I’m sure is very overwhelmed with the amount of notifications he’s getting right now.’
Overwhelmed was an understatement because the moment Magnus retweeted it, Alec’s notifications exploded. Alec had been skimming them as they came, seeing what people were saying but now they were coming so quickly that Alec couldn’t read a single word of any of it.
Alec panicked and closed the app as quickly as he could but the notifications kept coming. He tried to call Izzy but his phone didn’t seem to want to work. It was just as flustered as Alec was by the messages and when he clicked on the button to call her, nothing happened. Alec waited, hoping his phone would catch up but the messages kept pouring in and his phone didn’t seem willing to focus on anything else.
Alec turned his phone off and only then did they stop. Alec took a deep breath in his kitchen and then he turned and walked back into his office.
‘How do you turn off twitter?’ Alec typed into the search bar, frowning as he scanned the results that popped up. Izzy and Jace had insisted the year before that there was no reason Alec needed a home phone when he had a cell phone. They’d mocked him and told him that no one had a home phone, so Alec had caved and gotten rid of it but right now, it would have been pretty useful.
Alec was sure twitter wouldn’t have been able to break his home phone.
He hadn’t found much about turning twitter off but his attention strayed anyway and after giving up on that, he typed into the search bar, ‘Magnus Bane’. At the top, the screen read ‘about 64,700,000 results’ which made Alec frown harder. Pictures of Magnus popped up, hundreds and hundreds of them. He’d thought maybe someone else had the same name as Magnus but this was his boyfriend.
‘Magnus Bane Official Site’ the first link read. ‘Magnus Bane- Wikipedia’ the second said. After that, Alec stopped reading each thing that popped up and he just scanned, catching nothing but Magnus’ name in the mess on his screen. He must have scrolled for three or four pages before he stopped.
It was about an hour later that Izzy showed up pounding on Alec’s door. When Alec opened it, she burst inside in a fury, holding her phone in one hand as she talked to someone that sounded like Jace. “No, he’s here.” She said, barely paying Alec any mind. “I’m going to ask- hold on.” On the other side of the phone, Jace kept talking. “Hold on, hold on-” He still didn’t hold. “I’ll call you back.” Izzy said finally before she ended the call.
She spun on her heels and lunged towards Alec as Alec slowly closed his front door behind her. “Alexander Lightwood!” She yelled, her voice raising high enough to make Alec flinch at the sound of it. She rarely called Alec by his full name. “You’re dating Magnus Bane?” She snapped.
Hesitantly, Alec nodded. “Uh, yeah. I guess so.”
“You guess so?”
Frowning, Alec nodded again, a little slower. “Well, I am.”
Izzy stared at him with that look until he kept talking.
“I am!” Alec bit his lip self consciously. “I just didn’t-” He stumbled over his words, finding it hard to explain or even understand what had happened over the past few hours. “I didn’t know so many people liked him.” He said weakly.
“You didn’t know so many people liked him?” She asked in disbelief. “Liked him?” She echoed again. “Alec, he's all anyone is talking about. He’s nominated for just about every music award he could be nominated for. He’d been at the top of the charts for three months straight. He’s one of the most famous singers in the world right now.” Izzy stared at him, like he was supposed to respond to that. When he didn’t, she snapped again, “You didn’t know people liked him?”
Alec threw his hands up defensively. “Izzy, I don’t listen to the radio! I don’t know celebrities!” He snapped.
“Well, you obviously know one pretty well!” She snapped back as Alec kept trying to speak over her.
“He didn’t tell me-” He tried to say.
“Why did you tell me?” Izzy asked over him.
They both fell silent for a second and then, Izzy started laughing. Instantly, relief blossomed in Alec’s chest. She wasn’t actually mad at him then.
“Alec, I can’t believe you’ve been dating Magnus Bane and you didn’t know he was famous.” She said, a little hush of disbelief in her tone.
Alec laughed along with her, running his hand through his rather messy hair. “I knew he did music but I just didn’t know other people knew about his music.” He explained, frowning as he remembered his broken phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and stared down at it. “And now everyone is saying things to me and my phone won’t work and I don’t know how to turn twitter off.”
Izzy reached out for his phone, scoffing as she clicked the button a few times, “Did you turn it off?”
“Yeah.” Alec peered over at it as Izzy turned it on. “I didn’t know what to do. Everyone was saying so many things-”
“Well, yeah. Magnus has twelve million followers Alec. I’d imagine your phone was blowing up.”
Twelve million. That was a number Alec couldn’t even comprehend. “I have twenty.” Alec mumbled, watching as all of the notification started popping up once again.
They both stared down at Alec’s phone for a moment before Izzy mumbled, “Well, I’d imagine you’ll have a lot more now.”
A lot more was an understatement. When Alec’s phone finally calmed down and Izzy was able to turn off his notifications, Alec saw that he had ‘2.4M’ followers, which Izzy had to confirm yes, it meant he had two million followers now.
Izzy kept insisting that he should tweet something, so Alec finally typed out, ‘Hi. I don’t know how to use twitter.’ before he hit send.
Across from him, Izzy had scoffed and then laughed, like he’d done something funny. “Good one.” She said finally and according to all the people who hearted Alec’s tweet and retweeted it, Alec thought it was a good one.
Izzy even showed Alec how to follow Magnus and after that, Alec had spent over an hour going through and retweeting all of Magnus’ posts.
“Why are you doing that?” Izzy asked when she finally noticed.
Frowning, Alec retweeted another one. “I want him to know I like his posts.” He turned his phone to show her the one he’d just retweeted. “Look, he was at the beach.”
Izzy stared at him for a moment, a soft smile that Alec didn’t quite understand coming over his face. “Well, then you just heart it Alec. You don’t have to retweet them all.”
Alec pulled his phone closer to him again, going back to his task. “I am hearting them. I’m retweeting them too, so he sees.”
Izzy kept trying to explain why he didn’t need to do that but eventually, she gave up and Alec kept doing it anyway. He was supporting his boyfriend, he insisted to her.
Later, when Magnus finally called him after work, he told Alec he had noticed him retweeting all of his posts and Alec had looked over at Izzy, smiling. “See?” He’d murmured to her. “He noticed me supporting him.”
Izzy had rolled her eyes but she’d kept smiling as she did. “Okay, that’s just not really what retweeting is for.”
Alec didn’t care. He’d keep supporting his boyfriend and besides, even the people who liked Magnus had noticed Alec retweeting all his stuff. Someone had written, ‘Magnus’ boyfriend posting that he doesn’t understand twitter and then retweeting every post he’s ever made.’ They put a crying face at the end that Alec didn’t really understand.
He retweeted it anyway. A moment later, Magnus hearted it and that made Alec smile. He didn't understand twitter much but he was getting better and if Magnus kept liking his stuff, he supposed he was doing pretty good.
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Warning: Violence, Language
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As a kid, I always imagined that I would end up just like my mom. I would marry my high school sweetheart and live in the Valley of Southern California. I would have a couple kids and be able to watch them grown and be the perfect housewife. I wanted all of that. That was my destiny. Well, I guess you could say that was my destiny until I graduated high school and began to experience life on my own. For starters, I didn’t have a high school sweetheart, so that option was off the table. Every guy I went to high school with was your typical Valley guy. They were either too into themselves or already had long-term girlfriends. That of course didn’t stop them from sleeping with girls that weren’t their girlfriends but that’s another tale for another day. To be honest, the guys I went to school with never peaked my fancy. I wanted something other than the typical blonde haired, blue eyed, Jordache jean, popped collar wearing guy…
“Let’s all go around the table and each tell what we are thankful for.”
I glanced over at my mother, the queen bee herself, inwardly rolling my eyes. Cynthia Kendall was in all her glory. Her home was filled with high society people my father had invited over for Thanksgiving dinner, some of which had more money than God himself. My mom was all about labels, trying to rub elbows with any wife who drove a fancier car than she did. “Bianca, why don’t you start us off dear.” My sister instantly perked up, sitting straighter in her seat. My sister was the spitting image of my mother. She was the daughter my mom envisioned having, one that follows in her footsteps. Bianca was “happily” married to a jerk she had met at a Valley party. He was your typical Valley guy, designer clothes, fancy cars, and a huge ego.
“Well-“ She started. “First off, I am so very thankful for my parents.” She smiled. “I don’t know what I would do without their love and support.” I watched as my mom placed her hand against her heart. “I am also so very thankful for my amazingly wonderful husband, Todd and our beautiful son.” Bianca turned in her seat, facing him. “I am so glad God brought you into my life, baby.” I wanted to throw up at that point. It wasn’t God who brought them together. The fact that my sister opened her legs the first time she met Todd was what initially brought them together. The conception of my nephew was what truly sealed the deal.
“That was beautiful, darling.” My mom cooed. Her gaze floated to where I sat. “Sophia-”Her voice changing. “Why don’t you tell everyone what you’re thankful for.” I looked at her, feeling those around everyone’s gaze turning to me. I cleared my throat, my heart beginning to race due to everyone staring at me. “Well-”I spoke. “I’m thankful for my family, my friends, my job-“ I started sputtering out words. “Lastly and most importantly, I’m thankful for my husband, Duff.” My mom’s eyes narrowed at the mention of my absent husband. “Who couldn’t be here tonight due to the fact that my mother won’t let him in the house.”
The tension in the air became increasingly thick. I could feel my mother’s eyes boring holes into my body as those around looked to one another. My poor father, sensing the explosion that was about to happen, placed his head in his hands.
“Sophia-” My mom spoke through gritted teeth. “Can I please see you in the kitchen, now.” I didn’t even bother protesting. I sat my napkin down on the table, peeling the chair away from the wooden structure. My mom gave her guest a forced smile before following close behind. Once inside the privacy of the kitchen, my mom began to lay into me. “How dare you, young lady.” She pointed. “How dare you embarrass your father and I like that.” I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest in annoyance. “I told you not to mention that boy and you blatantly disobey me.”
“That boy?” I questioned. “That boy is my fucking husband, mom!” My voice increasing a couple notches. “It’s not like he’s some trash off the street.” My mother’s hatred of Duff began the first day she met him. First off, he was nothing like the guys in the Valley or social circles she pushed my sister and I into. Duff McKagan was a punk rock kid from Seattle. He didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in his mouth or involved with the local country club. For God’s sake, the guy had blue hair the first time my mother met him! From the moment he met Cynthia Kendall, Duff had been nothing but respectful and polite. He honestly wanted my mom to like him. He even dyed his hair back to blonde so he could gain her approval back. Unfortunately, my mom was all about first impressions and her hatred for Duff was cemented into the ground.
“Your husband.” My mom laughed out. “He’s a moocher, Sophia. He’s a daydreamer with no talent and is only married to you so his ass doesn’t end up back on the street.” I wanted so badly to slap my mother across the face. She had no right to talk about him like that, especially when he wasn’t here to defend himself. “You need to divorce his ass and get with a real man. You need to get with a man that will support you the way you need to be supported.” I looked at her like she was crazy. “A real man, mom?” I sneered. “Oh you mean someone like daddy or even Todd?” I gestured my hand to the dining room where both men were still seated. “You do know that the great and lovely Todd is only with your daughter because of Leo, right? I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve seen him down on the strip with a girl who isn’t Bianca hanging off his arm.” I was seething at this point. “And tell me this mom, when was the last time Dad actually slept at home? When was the last time he came home before midnight?”
A loud crack echoed through the kitchen as my mother’s hand connected with my right cheek. My head whipped to the side, my hair covering my face and the damage she just inflicted. My mom made an audible gasp, realizing what she had just done. This wasn’t the first time my mother had hit me. There were plenty of times growing up where she would either spank us or give us a slap across the face. It seemed like she saved the face slapping for me and not Bianca.
“Sophia-“ She sobbed. “Sophia, darling.” I slowly turned my head to see her hand reaching out to touch my shoulder. I immediately backed away. “I’m so sorry.” I could feel my own tears falling down my cheeks, my cheek stinging as the salt water ran down. “Please, Sophia.” My mother continued to cry out. I didn’t bother saying anything. I decided that the best thing to do at this point was to leave and spend the rest of the holiday with the person who mattered most.
I stormed out of the kitchen, causing the wooden door to slam against the wall. My parent’s guest jumped in their seats as I quickly gathered my things to leave. I could hear my father calling my name but I was dead set on getting the hell out of there. I didn’t even bother closing the front door behind me as I stomped toward my car. I knew I should have stayed home today…
I finally made it home after what seemed like the longest car ride I’ve ever had. I even went above the speed limit the whole way home! I parked the car in the designated parking spot, locking the door once I gathered all my things. I trudged up the metal staircase, finally coming to a stop in front of Apartment 7B. I jiggled the doorknob, not knowing if Duff was home or not. He had told me before I left that he was going to meet up with Izzy but wasn’t sure when that would be. The door creaked open, the sound of the TV filling the small space.
“Babe?” I called out, shutting the front door. I placed my things down on the couch, seeing his Bass leaning against the chair. “Duff?” I made my way further into the apartment. I made my way to the bedroom, soon finding the man I had been looking for passed out in bed. He was laying on top of the covers, his shirt removed and his black jeans still on. I couldn’t help but laugh as I took in the site. He must have been waiting for me to get home but gave up hope the later it got. I quietly walked to the adjoining bathroom, stripping out of my current clothes and replacing them with my pajamas. I removed my makeup, tying my hair on top of my head, before heading back into the bedroom. Duff was still asleep. “Duff.” I nudged his leg.
He stirred for a second but fell back to sleep. “Michael!” I yelled his name. He startled awake, looking in every direction before his eyes landed on me. “You scared the shit of out me, Soph.” His voice ridden with sleep. “What time is it?”
I looked over at the alarm clock that sat on the table. The bright red numbers read 9:21pm. “Almost 9:30.” He removed himself from the bed, grabbing his cigarettes in the process. I watched as he lit the end of the stick, taking a deep breath as the nicotine filled his lungs. “How was the dinner?” I rolled my eyes at his question. “That bad?”
“My mother and I got into it if that tells you anything.” I replied. “She asked me what I was grateful for and she didn’t care for my answer.” I looked down at my wedding band. It was a simple thin, silver band. Duff saved up for a couple weeks from the restaurant and purchased it at a pawn shop. Even though it wasn’t a spectacular wedding set like my friends or sister had, this ring meant the world to me. I actually preferred having just a band over an extravagant diamond.
Duff took a seat next to me, pulling me into his arms. “What’re you grateful for?” His lips brushing against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. I leaned into his body, extending my neck so it rests against his shoulder. “Guess.” I whispered. His lips continued to trail down my neck, nipping and kissing her and there.
“Uh-“ He spoke. “Is it a person, place, or thing.”
I acted like I was thinking for a moment, “Uh, defiantly a person.” His lips were starting to drive me wild.
“Give me another hint.” He whispered in my ear.
Instead of replying, I turned in his arms, straddling his waist. “Why don’t I just show you.”
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(Banner by the lovely @desperatemurph!)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Read it on AO3
A/N: The barest amount of angst in this chapter, but it’s still going to be a mostly fluffy fic.
Rumplestiltskin couldn’t wait for the weekend.
To his amazement, things had been going very well with Isabelle. He wasn’t certain how he’d managed to woo Belle herself, much less her cursed counterpart, and could only chalk it up to the mysterious magic of true love. In Hyperion Heights he didn’t even have the magic, power or wealth he’d possessed in other realms, not that Belle had ever been impressed by any of those things. He was just himself, as much as he could be while wearing the mantle of Detective Weaver, and it had been enough.
So far, they’d been spending most of their time together with Eli, and while Rumple soaked up every moment afforded with his son, he was very much looking forward to a little alone time with his wife. They had plans for dinner together on Sunday, just the two of them. It would be the first time they’d done something alone together in weeks. The relationship between Weaver and Isabelle was still so new and it was hard not to rush things when he missed Belle so very much. He’d been the first to kiss her, though Isabelle had initiated kisses since. He’d decided he would follow her lead when it came to anything physical, but that didn't stop his mind from wandering.
Pleasant recollections left him smiling more often than not these days and Rogers, for one, had noticed.
“We’re at a crime scene,” his partner said flatly one afternoon as they’d investigated a break in at a local bakery. “Can you at least pretend you care?”
The owner had been knocked unconscious and was being transported to a local hospital, and yet Weaver was grinning at a cheeky text from Isabelle.
Most days, Rumple liked Hook’s Wish Realm counterpart far more than the one he’d known for 200 years. But some days he was just as annoying as the original.
“You take things too seriously,” he shot back. “Maybe you should go out every once in a while. Get laid.”
Rogers' lips twisted wryly.
“Yeah, well, that’s not exactly encouraged in the first year of sobriety I’m afraid.”
Weaver clapped a hand against Rogers’ shoulder before heading out of the open doors of the bakery. They’d need to follow up with the victim once she was awake.
“Maybe a puppy then,” he said with a smirk. “A plant? Something to go home to at night.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” Rogers said, following him outside. “I remember the stories about you before we were made partners. The hard-nosed Jacob Weaver, best arrest record in the precinct, never takes a day off. A few dates with a ballerina and you’re a changed man.”
“Oh you’ve no idea,” Weaver called over his shoulder.
Saturday morning dawned bright and cool, the sun blinking weakly from behind scattered clouds. He was picking up Isabelle and Eli at noon to take them to the game so he’d gone in to the station early that morning to get some work done. He was glad of the resources afforded to him by his position in the police department, but he’d come no closer to discovering who had cast the curse. Victoria Belfrey was in quite the place of power, but Lady Tremaine had no reason to want the curse cast. Her little witch of a daughter seemed thoroughly cursed. He’d seen neither hide nor hair of Gothel, and that made him nervous. Meanwhile he actually had a job to do. He almost missed Mr. Gold’s pawnshop at times. He’d never had to do much actual work in Storybrooke, left to his own machinations. Pounding the pavement with Rogers, hunting down leads, was far more exhausting.
He was filling out a report from an arrest made the day before when his phone lit up, vibrating against his desk. He glanced down at it and couldn’t suppress the smile that crossed his face when he recognized Isabelle’s number.
“The girlfriend?” Rogers asked with a raised eyebrow, watching him from across their shared workspace.
“Shut up,” Rumple griped, snatching up his phone and heading out into the hall to take the call.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, the old endearment rolling off his tongue with ease as he answered.
“Hey,” Isabelle said, her voice a little stilted.
“Is something wrong?” he asked immediately.
“No,” Isabelle replied, her voice all false sunniness. “I mean, yes. I think we’re going to have to take a rain check on the soccer game this afternoon.”
Rumple felt his stomach plummet with disappointment.
“Oh,” he said. “Any reason why?”
Isabelle cleared her throat.
“Eli’s not feeling great and I don’t want to get him out in the cold, you know?”
There was something in Belle’s voice, something that told him things weren’t right. But everything was still new and he didn’t want to push.
“O-okay,” he said. “Are we still on for dinner tomorrow night?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, a huff of breath coming through the receiver.
“I really want to,” she said finally. “I mean, I have plans for you.”
“Oh really?” Weaver asked, his eyebrows rising. “What kind of plans?”
Isabelle huffed a little laugh on the other end of the line.
“I bought a new outfit,” she said, her voice dropping in pitch. “And, uh, something to wear under the outfit as well.”
“Miss Schwartz,” he said with a grin. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Maybe,” she said with a giggle. “I’m sorry about the soccer game though. Maybe another time?”
“Of course,” he said with a nod. “You just focus on that boy of yours. Tell him I hope he feels better.”
“Oh, yeah,” Isabelle said, her voice wary once more. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. You know how kids get the sniffles.”
They hung up and Rumple stared down at the phone in his hand, a feeling of unease settling in his stomach. Nothing Isabelle had said gave him cause for alarm, but something felt off.
"Congratulations," he said as he returned to he and Rogers' office, pulling the tickets to the game from his jacket pocket. "You've earned an afternoon off."
He slapped the tickets down on the desk in front of Rogers who picked them up with an appraising look.
"Good seats," he said, glancing up at Weaver. "You sure you don't want these?"
Rumple merely grunted in response. He couldn't care less about soccer games if he didn't have his family with him.
As the afternoon wore on, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Certainly Isabelle would have told him if she was in any danger. But the way her voice had changed when they spoke about Eli had him rattled. He didn’t want to move too fast or be too familiar and risk scaring Isabelle away, so he waited until that evening to put his plan in to motion. He would pop by her apartment under the pretense of checking on Eli on his way out of work. Isabelle only lived a block away from the station so it was hardly out of the way. If everything was fine, and their son was none the worse for the wear, perhaps they could even spend a few stolen moments together.
With that in mind, he headed to Isabelle’s apartment after leaving the station at 5 o’clock that evening. He had a bag with chicken soup from the diner down the street slung over his wrist, a bottle of wine in his other hand. He figured they could get Eli tucked up in bed and maybe have a moment to just the two of them before he left for the night so the day wasn't a total waste. It was only when he’d raised his hand to rap his knuckles on the apartment door that he realized noise was coming from within, the sound of voices and muffled Christmas carols carrying through the door.
He narrowed his eyes, knocking lightly. He heard a scuffle inside, a scrape of chair legs against a wooden floor, before the door burst open, warmth and Christmas music flooding out into the hall.
“Can I help you?” asked an unfamiliar man with silver tinsel wrapped around his neck like a scarf. He was tall and young with dark hair and a fair amount of scruff covering his chiseled jaw. Rumple felt a rush of something hot and angry lance through him, a crackling energy looking for release. The latent magic of this world was trying to take root in him, even now. But he was powerless here.
“Who are you?” he snapped.
“Nick Branson,” the man said, extending a hand. Rumple merely glared at it and after a moment, Branson dropped his hand back to his side. “Uh, are you here to see Izzy?”
"Detective Weaver!" Gideon exclaimed, peeking out from behind Nick Branson. He was holding a string of popcorn, a homemade Christmas decoration if the red and green kernels were anything to go by. He also looked decidedly healthy.
"Hello, Eli," Rumple managed. "You're looking well."
"We're decorating our tree!" he said excitedly. "Do you wanna help?"
“Weaver!” came Isabelle’s voice as she too appeared in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”
He wasn't entirely sure now, though he tried not to let his imagination run away with him. Tilly had said Isabelle was a loner but that didn't mean she was completely friendless. Perhaps this Nick person was simply a co-worker or the like. A co-worker with a penchant for Christmas decorating.
He raised the bag with the chicken soup in it halfheartedly. “I thought Eli might benefit from some soup,” he said uselessly.
"Oh," Isabelle said glancing away guiltily. "Thank you."
There was an awkward pause, the three inhabitants of the apartment staring at Rumple as he stood there stupidly with his soup.
"Where are my manners," Isabelle said after a moment, shaking her head. “Um, Nick, this is my…this is...this is Detective Jacob Weaver,” she said, motioning to him. “Weaver, this is Nick. Eli’s dad.”
Rumple felt as though the air had been sucked out of the hallway, his vision condensing to two little pinpricks focused on the interloper’s face. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears. His fury must have shown on his face because the next moment, Belle was sending Nick back into the apartment with Eli and was dragging him out into the hall.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded. “Is Eli even really sick?”
Belle bit her lip, looking guilty. He had years of marriage to rely on when it came to reading Belle. Not that she wasn’t an open book anyway, her every emotion showing clearly on her face.
“No,” she admitted, crossing her arms against her chest. “Nick called and wanted to see Eli so we were going to meet for lunch before the game. Eli happened to mention that we didn’t have a Christmas tree yet and Nick said he’d bring us to get one. Eli was so excited about it that I didn’t want to pull him away, but I wasn’t sure what to say to you. I just… this is not a situation I’ve ever found myself in. I didn’t want to cause problems when things are still so new for us. I know my life is complicated and I didn’t want to scare you off with the mess.”
“So you, what?” Weaver asked. “Lied to protect me?”
Isabelle shook her head. “Something like that. Look, I really like you. I didn’t want you to think anything more was happening here than actually is.”
Rumple took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. There was no use flying off the handle and scaring Isabelle away for good. They’d been on a few casual dates. She wasn’t his wife. He had no reason to be upset.
“And what exactly is happening here?” he asked. “Should I be worried?”
“No!” Isabelle exclaimed, reaching out to rest her hands on Rumple's chest reassuringly. “He’s just Eli’s father. And we haven’t had the best relationship. He split when I got pregnant, he’s turned up a few times over the years and never stayed longer than a day, but he seems to have things together now and he wants to know Eli. I can’t stand in the way of that. A boy needs his father.”
“And that’s him, is it?”
Isabelle narrowed her eyes, her hands dropping from his chest. “Yes, it is,” she said, her voice low. “No matter how I might wish otherwise, Nick is Eli’s dad. If he means to stick around this time, I’m not going to dissuade him.”
“Take it from someone who knows,” Rumple said roughly. “Sometimes no father is better than the one fate saddled you with.”
Isabelle blanched. “Are you trying to tell me what’s best for my child?”
“I know a dad who splits after a weekend isn’t it.”
“Oh and you’d know all about that wouldn’t you,” she spat. “When’s the last time you saw your son again?”
Rumple’s jaw clenched, the twisting feeling in his stomach intensifying.
Isabelle gasped, slapping a hand against her mouth. “I’m so sorry,” she said immediately. “I didn’t mean that. I know you love your son.”
Rumple just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He hated this curse. He hated Nick Branson, whoever he was. He hated feeling powerless to do anything but watch his family slip away from him time and time again.
“Look, I don’t want to fight, please,” she said, reaching for him again. Isabelle's hand found his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze, always so tactile regardless of curses. It had always taken him by surprise back in the Dark Castle, how willing she was to touch him after years without it.
Rumple glanced down at her hand on his arm and she dropped it all too quickly, leaving him touch starved once again.
“I don’t want to fight either,” he agreed.
Isabelle glanced behind her to where the door to the apartment was still cracked. Rumple could hear Gideon’s laughter at something Branson was saying and he clenched his teeth together hard enough to ache.
Isabelle chewed on her lip as she turned back to face him, and Rumple attempted to school his features into a neutral expression.
“Can I…can I please just call you later?” she asked, looking up at him with those devastating blue eyes.
“Yeah,” Rumple said resignedly. “I suppose we’d better cancel tomorrow night after all.”
“Oh,” Isabelle said, her eyes widening in surprise. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Rumple gave one more curt nod before turning to stalk off back down the hallway.
“Jacob, wait!” Isabelle called after him, and he tensed at the sound of the false name on her lips. He steeled himself, turning back to face Isabelle with a blank expression.
“We’ll reschedule, right?” she asked hesitantly, her voice trembling ever so slightly.
Rumple couldn’t help but offer her a smile, his sore heart softening at the sight of her so uncertain.
“Yeah,” he assured her. “I’m all in on this, Isabelle. The kid, the ex, none of it’s going to scare me off. Okay? You don't have to worry about that.”
Isabelle gave a little sigh of relief.
“Good,” she said with a nod. Then she slipped back into her apartment, the click of the door lock reverberating in the empty hallway.
The night had turned icy outside, Rumple's breath condensing in little puffs as he dumped the soup and the wine in the trashcan outside Belle’s apartment lobby. He rubbed his hands together, blowing on them for warmth before turning toward the bar next door. A few patrons stumbled out, the sound of loud music and louder conversation pouring out after them with a blast of warm, beer scented air.
Rumple slipped in after them. He needed answers, and there was one person in this city who could give them to him.
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I couldn’t decide but, 71 and/or 87 for Bessie and Anna?
TW: Alcohol and a heap of stuff that happens when someone with really bad PTSD gets drunk (I know this is a terrible TW but I can’t find the words that I need sorry.)
Bessie’s drinking habits had not gone unnoticed by her family. Maggie had been the first to pick up on the growing amount of alcohol that was being kept in the house and Anna had been getting an increasing number of drunk texts and calls.
“I’m going to talk to her.” Anna told Maria one day as she tucked a very drunk Bessie into bed.
“Talk to who?” Bessie slurred.
“I’m going to talk to you.” Anna told the woman who slapped her arm playfully.
“You’re already talking to me, silly.” She laughed.
“I’m going to talk to you when you’re sober.” Anna clarified, “Get some rest, alright?”
“Stay?” Bessie reached out to Anna like a small child.
“I’ll be up in minute,” Anna promised, “I just gotta talk to Maria and the others about something.”
“I thought you were going to talk to me.” Bessie muttered, sounding almost betrayed.
“I will, babes, just go to sleep.” Anna pressed a gentle kiss to Bessie’s forehead before going downstairs.
“Maybe we should wait and see if it continues before we step in.” Aragon suggested, “Whenever we try to stop Izzy doing something it just makes her more likely to do it.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Jane said, “five months ago she was asking permission before doing anything. I’m glad she’s pushing back a little, it shows that she feels safe.” Aragon sighed, she had to admit that Jane was right about that.
“Yeah, but you also tried the ‘wait and see’ method with Joey and that didn’t turn out too well.” Maria reminded them.
“Hey,” Joan elbowed Maria gently, “I’m down to four cups of coffee a day thank you very much.”
“We know, love and you’re doing so well, but alcohol can be a lot more dangerous than caffeine.” Jane wrapped an arm around Joan’s shoulders, smiling a little when the younger woman leaned into the hug.
“I’m not going to sit around and wait for her to get hurt.” Anna said firmly, “You know what Bessie’s like, this isn’t the first time she’s been dependant on something. I’m going to talk to her tomorrow.”
Anna was surprised when Bessie was the one to bring up the previous night. True to her word Anna had spent that night in Bessie’s room, choosing to sleep on the floor so as not to startle her girlfriend during the night.
“I’m sorry,” Bessie said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two as they cuddled in the early morning, “About last night. I’m sorry I drank too much. Again.” Bessie muttered that last word, her voice full of disappointment.
“It’s alright, everyone does it occasionally,” Anna sighed, “I’m just worried because it was the second time this week.”
“I know,” Bessie buried her face in Anna’s chest, “I’m really sorry. I promise I won’t do it again.”
“Shh, hey,” Anna held her girlfriend close to her, “It’s alright.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “How about this, the next time you want to have a drink call me and I’ll come over.”
“How is both of us getting drunk going to solve anything.” Bessie laughed, rolling her eyes.
“It won’t, which is why we won’t be drinking.” Anna told her, “We might have one drink every now and again but that’s it, alright?”
“So, what you’re saying is no more drinking alone?”
“You got it.” Anna grinned, “This way instead of drinking to get drunk we can have a drink together and talk about whatever’s bothering you, or we could talk about nothing, or everything. How does that sound?”
“That sounds good.” Bessie smiled.
Anna had to admit that when she made the plan with Bessie she hadn’t been expecting to be woken up in the middle of the night almost every night. In hindsight she should have expected it, she knew that Anne, Kathrine and Izzy would usually be awake that time each night with one of them on the brink of a panic attack. It made sense that it would be the darkest, quietest hours that the memories forced their way to the front of Bessie’s mind.
“Hey.” Anna gave Bessie a small smile as she sat down beside the woman on the front step.
“Hey,” Bessie sighed, “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” Bessie let her head fall onto Anna’s shoulder.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Anna asked gently. Bessie shrugged.
“Same as usual I guess. I woke up because I could feel him touching me. I tried to go back to sleep but no luck.”
“The feeling went away when you woke up?” Bessie nodded.
“Yeah, most of the time it lasts a few minutes and then disappears.”
“But not all the time.” Anna sighed, wrapping her arms around Bessie and holding her as close as she could.
“How about a beer?” Bessie asked, the sudden change of topic did not go unnoticed by Anna.
“Yeah,” Anna shrugged, “Or we could go upstairs and cuddle until we both fall asleep?” Bessie sighed before taking Anna’s hand and leading her upstairs.
“One day I’m going to choose beer over cuddles.” Bessie said as she curled up in Anna’s arms.
“One day, but not today.”
This continued over the next few months, for the most part Anna was able to convince Bessie that cuddles were more effective than alcohol but on the rare occasion they did drink they never had more than one.
Anna groaned as she stretched out her arms before reaching for her phone. It was almost two in the morning and she was still half asleep.
“Hello?” she yawned into the phone.
“Anna,” Maria’s frantic voice filled Anna’s ears, “Bessie’s drunk, really drunk, and she’s not letting any of us get near her and-“
“Hey, calm down, I’ll be right there.” Anna promised.
“Wait, Maggie’s hurt and Joan’s scared out of her mind could you-“
“I’ll get Jane and Anne.” Anna said as she pulled on her shoes, “What about you? Are you alright?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” Maria told the German woman.
“I’m getting Catherine, too.” Anna said, hanging up before Maria had a chance to argue. Running upstairs Anna didn’t bother to try and be quiet.
“Anna? What the fuck?” Anne asked when Anna burst through the door and turned on the light.
“Mummy?” Izzy whimpered, covering her eyes.
“Maggie needs you.” Anna said simply.
“Wait, what? What’s going on?” Anne asked, jumping out of bed.
“Just go get Jane and Aragon, alright? Maria said Joan’s not doing too well either.”
“Mummy? What’s going on? Are Maggie and Joey okay?” Izzy asked, sitting up in bed.
“They’re going to be fine,” Anne assured her, “But for now I need you to stay here with Kitty, can you do that?” Izzy nodded, “I’ll be home soon.” Anne promised as she ran from the bedroom to get Jane and Aragon.
“Could you maybe turn off the light?” Kitty called after her cousin who either didn’t hear her or chose to ignore the question.
“I’m going to take that as a no.” Izzy said with a sigh, turning to Kathrine who couldn’t help but smile at the young girl.
There were only three houses between them and yet Anna felt as though she was running for hours before she reached the front door. She didn’t need to knock; Maria was standing in the open doorway waiting for her.
“Jane, Anne and Catherine are coming, they should be here in a few minutes.” Anna told Maria who nodded.
“Bessie’s upstairs, he locked herself in her room just after I called you.” Maria informed Anna who ran up the stairs two at a time. She waited outside the closed door for a moment, listening.
“Bessie?” Anna knocked on the door gently, “It’s Anna, can I come in?” A few seconds later Anna heard the door unlock. “Is that a yes?” She asked when it didn’t open. Anna waited a moment but got no answer. “Bessie, I’m going to take that as a yes, alright? It’s just me, no one’s going to hurt you.” Anna could have sworn she heard her girlfriend laugh at that.
The first thing Anna noticed upon entering the room was the smell of alcohol in the air. The second was the half packed suitcase on the bed.
“Bessie? What are you doing?” Anna asked.
“I’m leaving.” Bessie said simply as she shoved a few more items of clothing into the bag.
“What?” Anna asked, a part of her hoped she had misheard.
“I’m leaving.” Bessie repeated, “I fucked up and I’m leaving before they kick me out.”
“Bessie, just wait a second, alright?” Anna took a few steps towards the woman, “Talk to me, please. What happened?”
“I fucked up, so I’m leaving. That’s all that matters.” Bessie’s eyes fell dark for a moment before they lit up brighter than Anna had seen them in days, “Come with me.”
“No, Bessie, neither of us are going anywhere. They’re your family, whatever happened they still love you.”
“Forget about them,” Bessie laughed, “Run away with me. We can go to Germany, just the two of us.”
“I’d love that, you know I would-“
“Perfect, so then let’s go.” Bessie wrapped her arms around Anna’s waist.
“Have I ever told you that you’re adorable?” Anna asked, returning the embrace.
“I love you.” Bessie whispered as she leaned closer to her girlfriend. Anna couldn’t help but smile when their lips connected. For just a moment she let herself get lost in the warmth radiating from the smaller woman.
“No.” Anna forced herself to pull away. The pain that filled Bessie’s eyes nearly broke her but she couldn’t let Bessie do this to herself, “Bessie, I love you more than anything and I would love to take you to Germany one day, but not like this.”
“Why? What did I do?” Bessie asked shakily.
“Bessie, sweetheart, you’ve been drinking again, do you remember?” Anna watched as her girlfriend blinked a few times.
“What? No, I wasn’t. I-I…” Bessie shut her eyes tight, her hands reached up taking fistfuls of her hair and she began to shake her head as if trying to shake an image from her mind.
“Hey, shh, it’s alright.” Anna rested her hand gently on her shoulder, “I’m right here, no one’s going to hurt you.”
“I-I’m sorry.” Bessie said as she collapsed, sobbing, into Anna’s arms, “I just wanted him to leave me alone, just for a few hours.”
“I know, it’s alright.” Anna assured her.
“No!” Bessie screamed suddenly, pushing away from Anna, “It’s not alright! I promised I would stop drinking! I yelled at Joan when she tried to make me stop and I…” Bessie’s eyes grew wide and the colour drained from her face, “I threw a bottle at Maggie.” Bessie stumbled backwards until she hit the wall.
“Bessie, I need you to listen to me, it’s alright.”
“Stop! Stop it! It’s not alright!” Bessie screamed from where she was huddled in the corner, “Please,” Her voice fell to no more than a whisper, “Please, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not going to hurt me.” Anna said calmly.
“How do you know that?!” Bessie asked, “I hurt Maggie! Maggie of all people!”
“Maggie’s going to be alright, Anne’s with her.” Anna told her, “You know, she’s gotten pretty good at patching people up, I guess that’s what happens when you’ve got an accident prone kid.” Anna added in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“She’s just a kid.” Bessie said, more to herself than to Anna, “She’s only 18.”
“Maggie’s going to be fine, she’s tougher than she looks.” Bessie just rolled her eyes.
“You wouldn’t be saying that if it was Kitty.” Bessie wasn’t sure she believed her own words but she knew how protective Anna was over the 17 year old. She knew that if she kept on about the pink haired girl she could make Anna snap. Then, maybe, she’d leave her alone.
“What?” Anna asked, “Bessie, what are you talking about?”
“If I’d thrown a bottle at Kathrine you lot would have killed me by now.” Bessie spat, standing up and taking a few steps towards Anna.
“Of course we wouldn’t. Bessie, I promised I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again.” Anna said, reminding herself that her girlfriend was drunk and that it was the alcohol speaking.
“And what a fantastic job you’ve done at that.” Bessie’s voice was thick with sarcasm, “What makes you think you can protect me from monsters only I can see? For fucks sake Anna, you couldn’t even protect Kathrine from the monsters you could see.” Bessie saw the way Anna faltered slightly at that.
“Why do you think I was coming over here at all hours of the night?” Anna asked, her voice harsher than she had intended.
“Free beer?” Bessie shrugged.
“You know that’s not true,” Anna told her, “I came over so that you wouldn’t have to fight them alone.” Bessie turned her back on Anna as a wave of guilt crashed down on her. It was her fault her girlfriend, if she could even call her that now, never got enough sleep.
“What’s the point?” Bessie muttered; she could hear the exhaustion seeping into her voice.
“Because I love you, and I hate seeing you like this.” Anna moved so that she was once again face to face with Bessie, “Bessie, please, you don’t have to do this alone.”
“What if I want to?” Bessie asked, kicking over an empty beer bottle.
“If you can look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want my help I will leave.” Anna said. An uneasy silence fell over the pair, with Bessie’s eyes darting up to Anna’s for no more than a second at a time. Anna made a conscious effort to keep her body relaxed, she knew how important body language was around Bessie. After what felt like an eternity Bessie finally spoke.
“I-I…” Her eyes stayed glued to Anna’s, “Please don’t leave.” Bessie begged as she felt her body give up.
“Shh, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Anna murmured as she wrapped her arms around Bessie.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Bessie sobbed into Anna’s shirt, “I didn’t mean any of it. What happened to Kitty wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have done anything.”
“Shh, just breathe, alright? Can you do that for me?” Anna hushed Bessie, who was trembling like a leaf in her arms.
“I don’t want to do this alone, I can’t. Please, I’m so sorry.” Anna just nodded as she lead the two of them over to the bed.
“You don’t have to; I’m always going to be here.” She said as she guided Bessie under the blanket, “I’m right here.”
A few hours later Maggie, holding tightly to Anne’s hand, crept up the stairs. The house had been quiet for a while and she was beginning to worry about the bassist. However, upon peeking into Bessie’s room the two found Bessie asleep in Anna’s arms.
“Is she alright?” Maggie whispered to Anna.
“She’ll be fine,” Anna smiled, “But she’s not at tough as she pretends to be, you know that right?” Maggie nodded, “She’s going to need us to help her through this.”
“Why don’t we let these two get some rest?” Anne asked gently after a few minutes.
“Annie?” Maggie asked nervously, “I know you’ve got Izzy and that she’s probably waiting for you-“
“Izzy’s with Kitty,” Anne smiled gently, “And I’m more than happy to stay with you tonight.”
“Thanks, I usually stay with Bessie at night but…” Maggie nodded towards the bassist.
“Come on then.” Anne said as she followed Maggie out of the room, making sure to quietly close the door behind them.
“You know I’m here for you if you need me, right?” Anne asked as they made their way to Maggie’s room.
“Just because I’ve got Izzy now doesn’t mean I can’t look after you as well.”
“I just feel bad, she needs you more than I do.” Maggie admitted.
“No she doesn’t, not all the time. She’s got Kitty and Bessie who, if I’m being honest, are a lot better with her than I am. That kid has a better support network than any of us.” Maggie smiled a little at that.
“Thank you,” Maggie said as she curled up beside Anne, “For everything. You didn’t have to come over like you did.”
“Maggie, you’re my little sister, of course I had to come. I’m just glad you’re alright.”
That night no one slept alone. Anna fell asleep holding onto Bessie, Maggie and Anne managed to tangle themselves up to the point where it was difficult to tell which limbs belonged to who, Joan drifted off in Jane’s arms, and Maria and Catherine fell asleep talking about everything and nothing. All in all it was a very peaceful end to the night…
Or rather, a very peaceful beginning to the morning.
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