#repugnant

That was how she ended up throwing her hard and fast safety rules out the window, hopping into a handsome stranger's van and taking him home without a second thought. It wasn't until he'd wrestled her past the front door and pushed her roughly onto the bed that nerves started to flutter in her stomach. "Such a dirty girl," he growled, looming over her ominously while removing his heavy studded belt and giving it a loud, theatrical snap. "The things I'm gonna do to you..." With practiced skill the leather was wrapped around her wrists and pulled her arms taut over her head, and his other hand tugged at the mesh neckline that barely concealed her pale skin in search of better access to suckle and nip at the soft swell of her breasts. But he paused when he felt how hard and fast her heart was thrumming against his lips through her ribcage. It could have been easily dismissed as her being as hot for him as he was for her, but something about it felt...off. He lifted his head to look at her face, her eyes pinched shut and bottom lip visibly quivering. "Baby doll?..." That was when he noticed that the spot on her breast where he'd been enthusiastically creating a dark purple hickie, that skull tattoo that he'd noticed from the stage and been so eager to bury his face into, was smudged. And he hadn't seen before in the dim lighting of the dank club that all the piercings she had scattered were mysteriously devoid of any actual holes in her skin. He reached up to the spiked ring that hung from her nostril, pulling it off easily, and her breath caught, not because it hurt but because she knew the façade she'd carefully created was crumbling and there was nothing left to keep the tears from coming now. "Baby...Oh, baby girl..." He fumbled frantically to free her from his belt and toss it aside, pulling her upright and pulling her into his chest. "C'mere, baby...Didn't mean to scare you..." She tried her damnedest to sniff back the tears and stop her shaking, eyes stinging and cheeks burning with embarrassment. "M's-sorry," she mumbled. "Don't be sorry." He rocked her gently, but the emotion came in waves that made her tense against his soothing touch. "Don't be sorry. Talk t'me, baby."

She finally lifted her head, still unable to meet his intense green-eyed gaze. "I...I just thought I needed to be cooler...Edgier..." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing the black eyeliner she still wasn't used to wearing. "Just thought it would make me braver and make you...like me." "Oh, sweet pea..." When she dared look into his eyes they were sad, softened to a mossy grey. "Let's get these silly things offa you." He pulled the clips and rings off one by one, from her lip, from her eyebrow. Only when he yanked at her helix did she finally yelp out, "Ouch! That one's real." His mumbled apology and affectionate chuckle at least got her to smile. "You don't gotta be nothin' you ain't w'me," he said with rare sincerity. "I like you without all that shit. Wouldn't be here if I didn't-" "You don't even know me," she murmured quietly, voice breaking slightly. He peeled away from her and stood, looking around the unfamiliar room in search of the nearest bathroom, giving her upper arms a firm squeeze for punctuation. "Hold on a second. Stay here." She watched him as he disappeared with lanky strides and took advantage of the moment alone to dig through her bedside drawer for tissues and a mirror to salvage what she could of her makeup, wiping away the painted-on tattoos that they only made her feel like more of a phony now. When she settled back onto the bed, sitting cross-legged and still awkward about the whole thing, she tried to think of a way to sneak out gracefully, though that would be hard to do from her own apartment. When he reappeared he was shirtless, scrawny chest stripped of the usual stained tank top and leaving only the shreds of denim below that hung so dangerously from his narrow hips. His scruffy hair dripped from being washed in the sink, water trailing down a pale, lightly freckled face devoid of anything but a slightly shy smirk. He didn't need to tell her that he didn't let many people see him that way. He sat down next to her wordlessly and when she reached out to cup his cheek his eyes closed and he leaned into her touch. When his eyes opened again they were darker, hungrier, but this time she wasn't scared. "Mary..." "We're all just playin' with smoke n'mirrors here, älskling." When she didn't make any movements to pull away he reached out to her, carefully pulling her dress over her head, leaving her only in a set of plain black bra and panties. He kissed her with no less heat than before, but more focused, more intentional. And when she raked her fingers through his damp locks he brought his dexterous fingers to the clasp of her bra and freed it easily, pulling away to slide it down her arms and toss it aside. She wrung her hands nervously in her lap, just hoping he liked what he saw. "Du är vacker... Så perfekt...," he sighed, mostly to himself, and when she cocked her head quizzically at the words she couldn't understand he only winked at her and leaned in for another kiss.

Guiding her down to the surface of the bed he couldn't resist the urge to free a hand to explore her soft curves. Down the slope of her shoulder, the swell of her hips, the flexing muscles of her thighs as he nudged them apart, bringing it up again to knead her breast with an appreciative hum. When she finally pulled away from his lips to catch her breath he didn't stop, kissing hot and hungry down the arc of her throat. "Mary..." He was too lost in the smell of her perfume, the silken feel of her skin, and she had to grab his face with both hands to try to get his attention. "I've...I've never done anything like this before." He sat up suddenly and his expression fell, and it wasn't easy to render Mary Goore speechless. "Oh no, I don't mean...That's not what I meant...," she giggled and he breathed a barely suppressed sigh of relief as she continued. "I've just never brought someone I met at a bar back to my place before. Someone I barely know..." "M'not gonna do anything to hurt you..." He brushed his thumb along her bottom lip before letting his palm rest against the apple of her cheek. "M'not that kinda guy...Y'know that, right?" "I know...I mean, I don't know that..." For the first time she looked fully into his piercing emerald eyes, unflinching. "But I know I want you." He kissed her again hard, but broke away quickly to nip and suck a hurried trail between her breasts and down her stomach. He hooked a graceful finger into the waistband of her panties, easing it down enough to expose her hip bone and press his pouty lips against it. She squirmed in response, but so clearly wanted him to continue, and he did the same to the other side. He peeled them down slowly over her plush thighs and to his surprise once she was free of them she spread her legs eagerly, clutching at the sheets in anticipation. Staring unabashedly at her flushed sex he settled between her knees, spreading her thighs even wider with his angular shoulders. He pressed teasing kisses into the soft curls on her mound and along either side of her slit, steering clear of touching anywhere that might give her any sort of relief. The dull ache in her core was turning to an unbearable throb and she whined pitifully, lifting her hips in search of more contact. He didn't make her wait, but he wasn't going to make it too easy on her either, running just the tip of his tongue feather-light through her damp folds until her hands turned into fists in the bedding. When he circled it just as gently around her clit her whole body shuddered. She could feel her own arousal and his saliva dripping lewdly, cooled by his heavy breath. The tension in her gut was building too fast and when he slid his tongue past her clenching hole as far as it would go, it was more than she could take. "Please...Mary...," she panted even as she ground her hips against his skilled mouth. "Need you...Need you inside me...Please..."

He stood up suddenly to wriggle his way out of his pants and shuck them in a heap, and the absence of him made her all too aware of her own desperation. In the mere seconds it took for him to be on top of her again all she could do was mumble pleas and spread her legs wider, the need to be filled overtaking any last bit of rationality she had left. He slid into her inch by careful inch, focused on her body's every tiny reaction. "Just a little more, baby girl. Keep breathing for me." The last push made a broken moan escape her lips and her back arch. "Fuck, you're tight, baby. Tell me if it hurts, okay?" She nodded but her eyes stayed closed. "Promise?" "I p-promise...," she breathed out with barely any sound. Bracing himself with one hand tangled in her hair, he dug the other into her hip, pushing his cock into her with long, slow, steady strokes that she answered with increasingly loud gasps, the friction between their slick, aching flesh already overwhelming her senses. When he tightened his grip on her hip and adjusted his angle just slightly her eyes blew wide with a ragged whimper and she tightened around him. "So sensitive...," he cooed. "You that close already?" Her cheek flushed pinker than they already were. "I...I..." "M'just playin' with you, baby girl," he chuckled, lowering himself down to kiss along the line of her jaw, close enough that she could release her white-knuckled grip on the sheets and wrap her arms around his broad back. "It's beautiful...S'beautiful how your body reacts t'me...Don't hold back." It didn't take long, just a few more rolls of his hips and he'd barely built up any kind of speed before he felt her come apart, muffling her squeals against his shoulder as she twitched against him and her entrance fluttered erratically. When it finally passed she went limp into the sheets and he raised himself enough to take in her fuck-drunk appearance, a crooked smile twisting her swollen lips. "Shit, that was easy," he teased affectionately. "Mmmm..." Her head lolled side to side as she reveled in the blissful haze. "It's been a while...Too long..."

"Now that...is a crime." He repositioned himself back over her, both hands gripping her hair tighter to keep her focus on him, every few words punctuated with a slam of his hips, rougher and even deeper than before. "Pretty thing like you..." Thrust. "Should be getting fucked..." Thrust. "Whenever she wants..." Thrust. "You offering, Mare?" She was getting saucy now, gaining confidence, and frankly already too close to orgasm again to think about the words coming out of her mouth anymore. "Fuck, yeah..." Thrust. "Anytime..." Thrust. "A-Any place..." Thrust. Thrust. "Oh God...OH GOD..." Her words were coming out strangled, the dense weight of him pressing her into the mattress forcing the air out of her lungs, but it only made her tighten her grip on his lean torso and dig her nails harder into his pale skin. "G-Gonna cum so hard...Please, Mary...Please..." "Love it when you whimper like that..." Thrust. Thrust. "So fucking sexy..." Thrust. Thrust. "Keep makin' those sounds, baby girl." Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. "S-S-Shit!" It was all the warning he got before she dug her heels into the hard muscle of his ass and clamped down. This time her cries were echoing and unrestrained, harmonizing with his own as he kicked and emptied into her spasming walls. When it passed he held his weight off of her as best he could with weak arms and hers remained wrapped around him, clinging to him like a life line while she struggled through shaky breaths. His forehead stayed pressed against hers, their sweat mingling and dripping down onto the sheets. "Söta ängel...Min ängel..." His voice sounded almost pained as aftershocks continued to ripple through her and squeeze his softening length to the point of soreness. "Min söta älskade flicka..." "Mary?..." Her small voice broke through the post-coital hum of wet bodies and heavy breathing. "Mmm hmm?..." It was all he could muster, still so focused on how good it felt to linger inside her snug grip. "Will you...Will you stay with me tonight?" She immediately regretted the question. Surely he had better places to be now that the thrill of the chase had passed. "I'll stay as long as you want me to, baby," he chuckled, letting his cock finally slip out of her, easing himself to her side and pulling her into his bony chest. "Just try n'get rid of me."

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Vargens Kläder = Wolf's Clothing Du är vacker... Så perfekt... = You're beautiful...So perfect... Söta ängel...Min ängel...Min söta älskade flicka = Sweet angel...My angel...My sweet darling girl...

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"Mare, what're you doing here? I thought you were playing a festival today?" You were used to him showing up during the weekend rush, if you could even call it that. Business was slower than usual with the weather being so shitty outside, though there'd been a steady trickle of customers just the same. "Got rained out. Y'know metal heads don't do back-up plans." He gave his spikey hair a quick shake, spraying water about like a wet dog. "Looks like m'all yours today, baby girl." "Lucky me," you muttered with a dramatic roll of your eyes. "You can hang out, but try not to be too obvious about it, okay? I got royally chewed out by the owner last week when you were here in the morning and still here when he came back at night." He flashed his typical don't-give-a-fuck pout he used any time you scolded him. "Psh, he should be stoked that anybody wants to come into this dump." He wasn't wrong, but you also weren't kidding. "Don't be shitty. I need this job." "Okay, fine." He brushed it off as he always did, mindlessly thumbing through the new shipment of vinyl you were trying to get in order if he'd just stop messing with them. "Y'not really mad at me, are you? You're usually a little bit happier to see me." You let out a weary sigh, trying to shake away the thoughts that had been hanging heavy on your mind lately. "No, I'm not mad, I'm just...Never mind..." "No, don't do that, älskling." He stilled both your hands and made you focus on him. "Talk to me." His rare serious tone stunned you for a second, but if he really wanted to know what you were thinking, you were going to give it to him. "It's just that. THAT exactly. You come in here and call me pet names and we steal kisses here and there. You treat me like you like me or something and then just like that you're gone." He blinked a few times. He really wasn't getting it. "We've never been together outside this store. I don't have your phone number. Hell, do you even know my last name?" "M'sorry..." He did look penitent, letting your hands drop to the counter so he could fidget nervously with his thumbs in what was left of his back pockets. "I'm just not used to girls wantin' to be seen in public w'me. Not nice girls, anyway." Oh. That...had not occurred to you. "Oh, Mary...I...I wouldn't mind. I mean...If you asked me." "Yeah? Okay then...I'm askin'." The confident swagger was back. It never stayed away for long. He leaned in to kiss you, but he didn't get far.

*BING BONG* 'Front door.'

"Behave yourself," you warned in a hushed tone, darting off to offer assistance and not missing the glimpse of Mary's wicked expression with the devil flashing in his smokey eyes. There was scarcely a time the rest of the day when there wasn't at least somebody in the store, but he never missed an opportunity when the place finally emptied. Backing you up against the nearest wall of records to kiss you hard, tongue snaking into your mouth more aggressively than he'd ever dared before, and all you could do was drape your arms around his neck and let him sweep you away in it.

The next time he had you pinned to the clearance bin, latching onto your neck from behind, groping roughly at your breasts through your blouse and grinding his growing erection against the cleft of your ass. "Mary...We can't keep doing this," you panted breathlessly when he pinched your nipples through the thin lace of your bra and coaxed a raspy moan from you. "We're playing with fire here...Somebody's gonna see." "Let `em see. I want `em t'see." He was rutting against you harder now, hard enough that it was a miracle he hadn't cum in his pants yet. "Want every cunt who comes in here to know how bad I want you, baby." And if you'd just leaned forward and arched your back a little so he could rub his thick cock along your slit instead...

*BING BONG* 'Front door.'

"Fucking hell," you groaned, pushing him off you and tucking your shirt back into the waistband of your skirt, just hoping your flushed face and shortness of breath didn't completely give you away. The next time it happened you were in the back stock room, which was little more than a closet, and definitely too cluttered for a proper romantic encounter. But that didn't stop him, he had you spun around and slammed against the closed door before the most recent customer had even made it through the exit. "Mary, what the-" You squealed it louder than you meant to, but being suddenly thrown into darkness made you lose your cool. "Shhh, baby girl." He covered your mouth gently, removing his hand to kiss you quick. "You don't wanna make a scene, do you?" "You can't be back here," you hissed, but he was already frantically unbuttoning your top and you weren't doing anything to stop him. "You say that now, but you n'I both know under that slutty little skirt you're throbbin' for me..." You have got to stop wearing that skirt. That thing is how you got into this mess in the first place... "Please, Mare...You're gonna get me in trouble..." His hand snaked past the waist of your skirt, past the damp lace of your panties, deft fingers tracing a teasing line along your slit that made your legs start to tremble. "Shit, baby. You're fuckin' drippin'." He stroked gently, and even in the dark you could hear that he was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "This all f'me?" "Mary, please...Ah AH!" Two long fingers slid through your clenching entrance and your knees buckled. If his lanky weight hadn't been pressing into you you would have been on the floor. He didn't waste any time, playing your innards like he played his guitar, fucking his fingers into you in time with the snapping of your hips. "Keep squeezin' my fingers just like that." He could feel you starting to tighten, never mind the way you'd started to shake and the needy mewls he was forcing out of you with every pump and curl of his skilled digits. "Mary...Fuck..." You clutched at his shoulders when your head started to spin. "I'm right here, baby girl...Just let go for me, I got you..." His soft words alone could have sent you over the edge if not for-

*BING BONG* 'Front door.'

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," you huffed as he pulled his fingers from your quivering grip, fully laughing at your misfortune and lapping your juices from his fingers. "Sorry, baby. Duty calls." The little shit was actually enjoying this. The last push before the end of the day was worse than usual. Not because of the steady flow of business, or even the customers that seemed determined to linger, but more because of the way your bruised nipples chafed against the fabric of your bra and the trickle of your arousal that kept leaking down the insides of your thighs. And yet Mary lurked in the corner, leaning nonchalantly against the wall and flipping through magazines like he hadn't just been knuckle-deep in your pussy. Another patron left and suddenly he was behind you, breathing hot on your neck, hands already wandering over your curves and groping at anything he could along the way. "We finally alone?" "Still one left in one of the listening booths. A regular." You were breathless and he'd barely even touched you. "He always stays in there for hours and never buys anything." "For hours, huh? Good, he won't hear you scream." He gave you a light shove, just enough to make you tumble forward and brace yourself against the counter. His hands worked at lightning speed to hike your skirt up around your waist and pull your soaked panties to one side. "Why are you doing this?" He lined the head of his cock up with your waiting hole, his own pre-cum mixing lewdly with your slick as he coated himself with it. "You could have any girl you want. Why pester me?" "`Cause you're the one I want. Just you."

He slid into you in one deep, slow thrust and paused when he felt your body tense, a weak cry escaping your parted lips. "Y'okay, baby? Can you take it?" He brushed his lips against your temple, giving your hips an affectionate squeeze. "Don't wanna hurt you..." You'd seen his notorious bulge onstage enough times to know that he'd be a physical challenge, but nothing could have prepared you for how full you felt in that moment. The sting was sharp, the pull on your overstretched flesh was intense, and fuck did it feel good. You managed a small nod and any discomfort or nerves were forgotten when he started to move, rocking his hips, leading you through the easy rolls with a bruising grip. "That's my girl," he cooed. It was deliciously unhurried in spite of how eager he'd been to bury his cock in you, and the friction of him writhing against you, hitting all the right spots inside your clinging walls, had you reaching back to clutch at his long neck to try to stay on your feet. It all happened so fast, hours of edging only to lead to seconds of fucking before the pressure in your gut was more than you could stand. He felt it, he read your body well enough to know you were coming apart at the seams, and a few circles of his fingers on your clit was all it took while the other hand covered your mouth to stifle your screams. Your legs gave out from under you and he did his best to keep you upright, continuing to move with you through the unrelenting waves that rippled through your walls and milked him almost painfully hard. When your body went limp he held onto you, peppering your face and hair with kisses as your head lolled side to side against his broad shoulder. "You okay, baby?" "I...I don't think I can move." You weren't exaggerating. Your legs felt like lead and you were drenched in sweat. "C'mon, älskling. Gotta pull yourself together." He eased out of you as gently as he could and you pulled your skirt back down while he'd adjusted himself back into his pants. When you still seemed too dazed to function, swaying where you stood, he produced a small silver flask from his hip pocket and held it to your lips so you could take a long pull. The liquor burned your already raw throat, but at least it stopped your hands from shaking. "You didn't cum." It was half-question, half-statement, and he could hear the sudden tone of insecurity in your voice. He kissed you tenderly before resting his forehead against yours. "M'just not ready for this first time to be over yet. Wanna make it last." There was a rustling in the last occupied listening booth, and you tried your best to wipe the sweat off your brow and smooth back your tousled hair. The door opened and you tried to slow your breath before speaking. "Just leave the ones you don't want in there. I'll take care of putting them back." "Thanks. Have a great week!"

*BING BONG* 'Front door.'

Closing time. You were finally alone. "So...What now?" You tried to hide the unsure tremor in your voice. "Well, I did promise to take y'out, after all." He helped you gather your things while you shut down the register, folding up the rickety ladder and tucking it away. "So I figure dinner, then maybe some drinks...See what clubs have live music tonight..." "You're gonna go like that?," you chuckled, gesturing to his still very visible erection straining at the worn denim. "Wouldn't be the first time," he quipped, wrapping a gangly arm around your waist as you headed out the door to lock up. "`Sides, gotta let people know why a catch like you'd be with a dirtbag like me." You gave him a sharp elbow to his bony ribs and leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder as you made your way together into the cool summer night.

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You know Mary, and they’re definitely a dancer. Maybe not a very good one, but still. He’s always moving along to a good beat, partly because they genuinely can’t stay still, and partly because they know it makes you laugh.

And yet, now he’s content with just nursing his beer and watching you have your drunken fun on the dancefloor.

They keep a close eye on you, smiling to himself when you really get into it and just let loose, moving like no one’s watching. And that is one of the biggest reasons they like taking you to clubs. Not the atmosphere, not the music, but your happiness.

Every now and then you turn to see Mary sitting there by the bar, leaning against the counter and looking over you. It brings a sense of safety: you’re in good hands in case something happens.

But surely he could drop the protective role for a little moment and humor you.

Mary rolls their eyes when they notice you pulling a move in the crowd of people: you pretend to throw a lasso and pull them in, but the bastard just takes another sip of his bottle, refusing to move from the stool.

Gosh, is he really making you come and drag his ass onto the dancefloor?

You throw your head back with a groan, walking out of the crowd towards his relaxed form at the bar. Mary smirks as you approach, tilting his head: ”Ya getting bored there without me?”

”Ugh, just come out here already! I wanna dance with you!” you yell through the music and grab his hand to tug on it. ”Please, I know you’ve got it, come on!”

They chuckle at the genuine excitement in your voice, and your sparkling eyes are enough to make them second guess. Maybe they’ve indeed observed long enough. Perhaps a little dancing won’t do any harm.

With overexaggerated sluggish movements, he sets the bottle down and gets up from the stool with an exasperated groan, letting you drag him along, but you don’t mind his reluctant act – you know he’s just giving you a hard time.

”Alright, fine, fine,” they huff, but crack a smile at how you wiggle your hips, trying to lure him into dancing. And if that wasn’t enough, you reach out to smack their behind, nudging him into the sea of dancing people. You bark out a laugh:

”Get your sweet ass moving, Mare!”

Oh, he loves when you’re tipsy.

Slowly, Mary eases into dancing with you. It’s a little awkward at first, especially because he’s still pretty much sober, but soon you’re both feeding from each other’s energies as the joy of dancing takes over.

You move together like it’s the most natural thing in the world, your moves complementing theirs and vice versa. Mary holds eye contact with you, capturing your focus completely and narrowing the world to this exact moment between you two. His gaze feels heavy, almost intimate in nature as you both let your bodies do the talking.

Every now and then they deliberately try to make you laugh by striking a pose or trying to nail a difficult dance move, and to an outsider, it probably just looks like two fools messing around, but to you it feels like an endless source of joy and liberation. Because is there anything better than having fun with your lover?

You’re a little too caught up in the moment to pay much attention to the people around you, and so you accidentally end up bumping into someone as you move about. You almost trip over, feeling a little wobbly thanks to the drinks you’ve had, but manage to keep your balance.

”Oh! Sorr-”

”Oi, what the fuck? You spilled my drink!”

You turn to fully face the man you bumped into, and when you do, you immediately notice that the guy is full on wasted. The fact that he’s even standing by himself is a miracle, really. He frowns, towering over you and pointing at his now ruined shirt.

”You’ll pay for that, you know!”

You apologise again, but Mary’s quick to intervene, sensing the hostile aura of the other man: ”Whoa, calm down, won’tcha? They said they’re sorry.”

”Oh, coming to rescue this little thing from trouble?” the man slurs, eyeing Mary from head to toe. ”A word of advice: keep your bitch under better control.”

”Excuse me?” you yell and take a daring step forward before Mary has a chance to stop you, but the guy just scoffs, not intimidated by you whatsoever. His glassy eyes narrow at you, cutting you down to size.

”Oh, look at you acting all tough. It’s cute.”

Oh, hell no, Mary thinks, starting to lose his cool now. This is getting out of hand quickly.

”Alright, calm the fuck down already!” they bark at him, stepping in between you and this man who’s stupid enough to test Mary’s self-control. Resisting to turn their hands into fists, they grab your hand instead and turn to leave: ”Come on, let’s get away from this piece of shit.”

You turn your back on the guy, high on adrenaline and pissed off, but glad that Mary’s escorting you away from the situation. You don’t manage to get far, though, before you get pushed roughly from behind, causing you to lose balance and trip over.

Mary gets taken by surprise as you fall face first to the floor, and immediately his head turns towards that fucking lowlife scumbag who stands there with a smug look on his face, begging to get his teeth knocked in.

Seeing red, Mary raises their hands and grabs the guy roughly by the collar, aboslutely seething: ”Ya got a death wish, asshole?!”

A pained groan stops their movements, and they turn to you. All the anger seems to vanish, replaced by worry as he sees you scramble off the floor holding your nose.

Suddenly nothing else matters.

You’re Mary’s top priority.

Without even glancing at the drunken man anymore, they rush to you, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you walk out of the crowd.

”Hey, shit, ya okay? You hurtin’?” they ask as you two walk towards the bathroom to assess the situation. The worry is clear on their features: you notice the way their brows are knitted together and how their emerald eyes check you over, never leaving you. The strong arms around you seem to shake slightly: either from panic or adrenaline.

”I hit my nose…” you mumble, grimacing as the area begins to throb painfully, bringing tears to your eyes. And if that wasn’t enough, you suddenly feel a strange wetness on your fingers, realising that you’ve got a nosebleed – and not just a little one. It starts trickling all the way down your chin, and you throw your head back on instinct.

”No, no, baby, don’t do that,” Mary instructs firmly but gently, noticing the bleeding and your reaction to it, ”keep your head down.”

He opens the bathroom door for you and guides you in, ushering you into an empty stall: ”Alright, let me see. I got ya.”

You sit down on the toilet seat and lower your hand, revealing the liquid red that runs down your face. Mary doesn’t flinch, not visibly at least. They kneel down in front of you and grab some paper, beginning to clean up the blood with a focused look in their eyes.

”Does it look bad?”

”Nah,” Mary shakes their head, huffing out a low chuckle to lighten the mood, ”it looks kinda hot, actually.”

”Mary, not now. I feel like shit.”

”Yeah, okay, got it.”

Neither of you speak as he continues cleaning you up gently, giving the both of you a moment to calm down from what just happened. Mary’s being awfully gentle, almost to the point where you want to tell him that you’re fine and to stop treating you like a porcelain doll, but you don’t. You can see it in Mary’s eyes: this is not up to negotiation. He’s going to patch you up, and you just have to accept their help.

It’s the least they can do for you.

You two sit in comfortable silence, hearing the distant music that blasts outside but paying no attention to it as you’re both deep in thought: you processing that stressful situation that you went through, and Mary trying to think of ways to make this better for you. At least the bleeding seems to slow down, which calms their mind a little.

Finally, they break the silence with a guilt-ridden sigh, dropping their gaze to the floor: ”Fuck, I’m sorry this happened.”

”Mary, hey... it wasn’t your fault.”

He shakes their head.

”I should’ve just knocked that bastard’s teeth in as soon as he started spewing shit.”

”You would’ve just gotten your hand hurt,” you manage a lighthearted chuckle despite the pain, trying to soothe the obvious frustration that they’re battling with, but Mary doesn’t even crack a smile at your attempted humor.

Your words don’t quite succeed in easing the guilt that swirls in his mind, and you can clearly see the doubt in his expression. You know that look – that helplessness. It’s as if it was all their fault for not having the situation under control. And there’s nothing you’d want more than to kiss it off his face – and that’s exactly what you end up doing, for the lack of better judgement.

You lean in to press your reddened lips against theirs, catching Mary off guard: the gesture is otherwise comfortingly familiar, but the nosebleed certainly adds a whole new level to it. The taste of iron, the warmth of your blood as it’s slowly trickling down… oh, his brain short-circuits, and he’s quick to reciprocate.

This time it’s your turn to be surprised as Mary’s hand cups the back of your head, pulling you in as he deepens the kiss, sliding his lips against yours with a new kind of hunger. He pulls back after a moment only to catch their breath, leaving you two connected by a string of blood.

”Sorry, that was gross…” you apologise breathlessly, your gaze landing on Mary’s red lips and how his tongue darts around to lick around their mouth. He grins, your blood painting their teeth, creating a gnarly but oddly enticing look.

Before you know it, Mary’s already leaning in quickly to capture your lips again, but instead of your mouths meeting, their nose bumps against yours on accident. More blood spurts out and you throw your head back, wincing at the pain that flares up.

”Shitfucksorrysorry!” Mary wails, scrambling to grab more toilet paper and stuffing it in your face as the blood begins to trickle down again. ”Goddamn it, now you’re bleedin’ again…” they groan, trying to block your nose.

But then suddenly your chuckle cuts through the air, catching them off guard. It’s the last thing they expected: hell, he was more prepared for you to burst into tears, but there you are laughing away, looking like a mess but still so stunning in Mary’s eyes.

”What’s so funny, huh?”

You manage to get the words out between your chuckles: