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izukuwus · 4 years

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As Long As You’re Here (I Will Live Like This)

A/N: day 14 of @birds-have-teeth‘s Izumonth collab. little incoherent rn last editing pass probably missed something pls be nice to me. title references the song Twelve Feet Deep by The Front Bottoms.

Summary: Your boyfriend comes to your house one day bleeding profusely. You pick up the pieces and chat about the future. (vigilante!Izuku x reader)

Warnings: some blood/wounds, a non-explicit level of injury + the ensuing first aid

Word count: 2700+

Logically speaking, you know Izuku is up to something when he's not with you. He's accident prone beyond the limits of accident prone. You honestly can't recall the last time you saw him where you didn't notice a new bruise or cut on him. The bruises can be explained easily—he's told you before he takes martial arts classes, he's taught you plenty a thing about self-defense so that's easy to believe, but the cuts?

You have to wonder whether his martial arts classes involve disarming each other with real knives.

The first time you noticed how deep his propensity to injury really went, he had a poorly-bandaged cut over his eyebrow that, sure, scarred up prettily (you'd be lying if you said it didn't make him ten times hotter), but was deep enough that you know it should've gotten stitches, even if he insisted on having just your help in the matter.

That was somewhere in the realm of eighteen months ago.

Tonight, he comes to see you after one of his classes and promptly almost collapses in your doorway, which is infinitely less concerning in light of the fact that he's bleeding all over your fucking carpet. Honestly, at first you don't recognize him. He's got on a hoodie you've never seen him wear before, a cheap mask tied around his eyes, and you almost call the cops before you recognize the tufts of green hair poking out of his hood and then the hoodie itself.

"Holy shit, Izuku" leaves your mouth somewhat before your brain catches up to the fact that you're not just looking at your boyfriend of looking at the vigilante Jackrabbit that's been giving both cops and local pro heroes hell for ages, not to mention the villains. No one could ever seem to figure out his quirk, either, so they couldn't track down the vigilante via the quirk registry, which makes a hell of a lot of sense when compared with that fact that your boyfriend is quirkless.

"S-sorry," he coughs, flashing you a brilliant smile as you pull his hands away from his abdomen. "My base was a bit too far. Didn't mean for you to find out like this. C-can I ask you for some first aid?"

"Okay, okay, okay, just... come on, let me get you to my bathroom so you don't bleed on absolutely everything. Can you walk a bit further for me?"

He nods, biting his lip, and you loop his arm over your shoulder to support him on his way, kicking your door shut behind him.

"Take your hoodie and shirt off and hold this to the wound while I get ready," you order, sitting him down on your toilet and shoving a random towel at him. You rifle through your cabinets for your first aid kit, muttering mostly to yourself. "Honestly, you're lucky I've got a healing quirk and I love you."

"I love you too," he groans, shifting in his seat.

"Stop talking. We can talk about your 'martial arts classes' when I'm done saving your life."

He pointedly shuts his mouth, peeling his hoodie and shirt off in one go in a way that might be sexy if not for the way his blood is smeared across his side.

"What happened?" you ask quickly, kneeling in front of him and pressing the towel back against the wound.

He winces. "Thought you didn't want me talking, angel."

You roll your eyes. "Oh my god, can you stop joking around when you're literally bleeding all over my bathroom?"

"Sorry, sorry. I got, uh, I got shot." He admits this meekly, as if it's not something horrifically concerning. He's got one hand over his face the way he does when he's trying to hide his blush from you after you've teased him and he’s too embarrassed to look at you.

"Shot," you repeat calmly, gingerly pulling the towel away and preparing to properly clean the wound. "So there's a bullet and-or shrapnel in here, and I can't go straight to disinfecting or using my quirk."

"Probably."

You release a heavy sigh, forcing yourself to stay as calm as possible. "Alright. This is probably going to hurt. I'm sorry I can't hold your hand while I do this, baby."

He nods, biting his lip as you set about cleaning out his wound. When everything's good and clean, you take a few deep breaths and focus your quirk, not letting up until you're sure the wound is completely closed. You're still gentle as you wipe the blood away, though whatever pain he's still in is probably nothing compared to the way he felt before. The spot where he'd been shot is completely healed over, the only signs that it ever happened being the slightest scarring.

When you're certain that he's not losing any more blood and that everything is okay, you finally release a proper breath, dropping your head forward to rest on his lap. "You did a good job," you breathe against his thigh. "You should–you should get cleaned up. Take a s-shower."

"Are you okay?" he asks, like he didn't get shot tonight. Like your adoring boyfriend hasn't been moonlighting as a vigilante for god only knows how long. Like he couldn't have died if you hadn't had a healing quirk, like he couldn't get arrested and go to jail like his life isn't in danger–

"I will be," you say clearly, except it's too fast and shaky and not clear at all.

"Hey. Love. Look at me?" His hand rests on your head, grounding you, and you shift to rest your chin on his leg. He frowns at the sight, tugging you up and leaning over so he can bring you into a hug. "I'm okay," he whispers. "You don't need to cry."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"I... [Name], I'm sorry. I never meant to keep this from you." He's slow, careful in his words and the way his hands attempt to soothe you. "There wasn't... When we first started out, I didn't know if I should, and then I wanted to, but it was never the right time, so I..."

You sniffle, desperately trying to rein in your tears. "Izuku, you could have died."

"I saved someone's life today, though. I-I can't say I regret it."

You pull away to look him in the eye. "Please be careful. I don't want people I love getting hurt."

He nods, pressing his forehead against yours. "I'll try."

You peck his nose, intertwining your fingers with his. "We need to wash the rest of the blood off you. How are you feeling? Dizzy?"

"No, I feel fine. Got a bit of a stomachache, though."

You roll your eyes. "Huh, I wonder what could have caused that. Strip and get in the bath, idiot."

He lets out a bark of laughter. "Will you join me?"

You pause. You were going to go soak his clothes to get the blood out and maybe order some Chinese, but... "Give me five minutes and I will. I'm going to make sure the blood comes out of your shirt and your hoodie first."

He mock-salutes as you stand, and you leave the room on unsteady feet, Izuku's top and jacket in hand.

You soak them in the kitchen sink, the red of the water making you cringe. That's Izuku's blood. Izuku. Your Izuku. You plug the sink, shut off the water, and return to where Izuku is splashing water over the spots of blood he can find.

He doesn't notice your return just yet. Carefully, you slip out of your clothes, kneeling next to the bath to dip a hand in the water and run it across his back soothingly.

His back muscles jump beneath your touch, his head turning just slightly to look at you. "Everything settled?"

"For now," you hum, eyes trained on his back and the various scars and bruises there. Panic bubbles in your chest at the sight–how many near death experiences has he had that he's been shaking off? "I was gonna order Chinese, but I don't wanna be away from you right now."

"Want me to spend the night?"

"Please," you answer too quickly. "I just... I'll worry if I can't see you." You stand, carefully slipping into the water with him to help him rinse away the blood.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, resting his lips there as he murmurs. "Guess I should just move in so I don't have to worry you, huh?"

"Guess you should," you retort. Your hands roam his body, partially under the pretense of helping him clean off what little blood remains, but mostly because you're searching. "It's a shame, too. Must be a real hassle for you." A bruise under his rib cage. You heal it right away.

Izuku smiles against you. "As if I could ever complain about waking up with you every morning."

"As if you will," you snort. "Move in with me so I can make you sleep on the couch for a week for scaring me like you did."

"Surely there's some other way I could apologize," he declares with a dramatic gasp, one hand clapping over his bare chest.

"Start by laying back and not moving around so much, you'll splash water everywhere and I already have to get your blood out of my carpet."

He reaches for a shampoo bottle as he complies. You lightly slap his hand away with a playful glare. "No, you just got shot. You're not doing anything. Let me take care of you, Izu honey."

"But [name]–"

You cut him off with a soft kiss, capping the shampoo and beginning to massage his scalp. Now that you're at this stage, you're sure he has no willpower left to object. You snuggle up against him, shampooing his hair one-handed as you rest your head on his chest.

"I was serious, you know."

"About?" he borderline purrs, pressing his head into your touch.

"A lot of things, but mostly the scaring the shit out of me and the moving in with me parts. You don't have to, but I'd feel a lot better if you at least came back here after any patrols you do or fights you get into so I can heal you up."

"Won't that tire you out?" he protests. Everything sounds weaker when you're playing with his hair, but he does have a solid point.

"Using my quirk a lot will make me tired, but I get better rest when I'm sleeping in your arms anyway. More importantly, if I can keep you alive and well, I want to do it."

"I'm surprised you haven't said anything about me stopping the whole vigilante thing yet."

Your fingers still in his hair. Sure, you'd love it if he stopped. Nothing makes you feel worse than the thought that Izuku could be risking his life, but... "As much as I love you and want you to be safe, I want you to be happy, too," you admit. "If... If being Jackrabbit and giving all the local heroes and villains hell makes you happy, then I want to support that. Even if I'm really scared for you."

"Oh my god, marry me," he breathes, so fast and so faint you scarcely catch it.

"I'll marry you, but only if you buy me steak first," you hum.

"Deal. A steak dinner, and a ring. I'll try to swing that."

"You better, idiot. I want to spend my life with you."

It's his turn to go still now, freezing as you tactically drip water on his head to rinse his hair. "I-if you're serious, then..."

Cheeks heat up in tandem. "Of course I'm serious. I love you. I never want to lose you. The days I wake up with you are the best days of my life. I'd adore being married to you."

Strong arms wrap around you and pull you tight. "I-I don't really think I'm good enough to marry you just yet," he says. Firm kisses pepper the top of your head, mixed with a few hot tears, before he continues. "But someday, when I can... When I can be confident enough to not worry you, I swear we'll get married, if you'll still have me then."

You frown. "Izuku baby, it'll be a cold day in hell before I stop worrying about your cute, reckless ass."

"Hell freezes over every year, actually. It's a little town in the United States. Gets ice a lot."

"You would know that, nerd."

"I thought I was an idiot?"

"You can be both," you say with a pout. He chuckles and plants a few more kisses on top of your head.

The water is lukewarm when you both decide to get out of the bath. Standing before Izuku, you grab the fluffy towel before he can and begin patting him dry, pressing soft kisses against every scar and bruise that litters his skin. Soon, you move to kissing his freckles, too, and before long, you're kissing him indiscriminately as he laughs and tries to towel you off.

You're maybe halfway through kissing every inch of him when he uses the towel to pull you up and meet his lips. His arms are back around you in an instant. "I love you," he huffs. "I love you so much."

"Mm, love you more."

"No," he pouts. "You don't get to make that decision."

"What are you gonna do, stop me?" You punctuate your sentence with another quick peck to his lips, attempting to wriggle out of his vice grip. "Lemme go, cutie, I've gotta order dinner."

"Not until you admit that I love you more."

"Noooo," you protest, “I can’t make myself lie to youuu.”

Several loud knocks sound from your front door, causing both you and Izuku to freeze up. You glance at him with a worried look. "You wait in here, just in case."

"One moment, please!" you shout, scurrying into your bathroom. You quickly yank yourself into a pair of Izuku's sweatpants and a loose top, not bothering with underwear for the time being. Your worst fears are confirmed when you open your front door to find a pair of cops standing on your doorstep.

"Oh! Good evening, officers." You're suddenly very glad for your acting classes when you were still in school. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"We've received reports of the vigilante Jackrabbit being spotted running around this apartment complex," the taller man answers, producing a picture of your boyfriend from above, his face obscured by his hood. "We're asking if you know anything about his whereabouts."

You frown, putting on your best worried expression. "Isn't that dangerous? I can't say I know anything about it, though, officer."

The shorter man peers at your floor, then back to you with a worried look. "Do you mind telling us why your carpet's covered in blood?"

Oh shit. "Oh, that?" Your face goes blank as you try to think of an explanation. "Nothing serious, no need to worry. I cut myself super badly while playing with a pocketknife earlier, but I've got a healing quirk, so it's not an issue! I was more interested in cleaning the wound and getting into not-bloody clothes, so I haven't gotten around to dealing with my carpet yet!"

"Well, glad to hear you're alright, then. Be safe, and be more careful with knives goin' forward."

You nod, forcing a grateful smile. "Right! Thank you, officers. Sorry I couldn't be of any real help."

"You know, I hear that Coca-Cola's great for gettin' out bloodstains. Might help with your carpet, there."

"Oh! Great! I'll look into that."

"Give the station a call if you find any information about that vigilante, alright?"

You nod enthusiastically. "Of course! Anything to keep the peace. You both have yourselves a lovely evening while I try to get all this blood out of my carpet."

You wave the officers a good night, and slowly close your door, listening as their footsteps trail away to the next door in your building.

You find Izuku standing nervously in your bedroom, anxious eyes searching your face as if he didn't listen in to the whole conversation. Slowly, you press the top of your head to his chest. "We need to set some ground rules for your Jackrabbit hoodie if you're gonna live here."

He nods. "Talk about it over Chinese food? I ordered while you spoke with the cops."

"Yeah. We'll talk about it over dinner."

Tags: @tooloudarts @sapid-rose @xxangelpridexx @birds-have-teeth @icythotsenpai @warmchoccymilk @wesparklebitch @izoodles @fujimoribaby @my-bnha-things @denise-the-death-goddess @themerpenguin @sincerebubbles @themmmelissa @fudobaby

#midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha reader insert #mha reader insert #vigilante!izuku #my fics

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everybodyscupoftea · 3 years

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finally free

ole miss rafe x reader

rafe is tired, you try and help, and eventually the two of you get to drink

two in one day baby (almost?)

(warnings: cursing, drinking, hardly edited)

Rafe had been exhausted lately, cancelling dates to do homework and pulling at least one all-nighter a week. He’d decided to TA his first semester in the program, and while you were happy he got the subject of his choice, you were worried he was running himself too ragged.

It’s not like you had much room to talk, Vet School had been brutal, and the amount of work was what you expected, but weren’t exactly prepared for. A lot of the time you’d spent together starting mid-semester was takeout and homework in one of your apartments.

Your semester came to an end before Rafe’s by two weeks, and you spent the first week catching up on sleep, working out, and making actual home cooked meals for Rafe. You’d been practically living at his apartment, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Babe,” you called one morning, walking out of his room around 10:30.

He was sitting at the dining room table, and looked up at you, glasses perched on the edge of his nose, “What’s up?”

“About to head to the gym, want some breakfast before I go?”

“Had a bagel, thanks though.”

You nodded and kissed his forehead before heading toward the door, “Gonna get some groceries while I’m out and probably Strange Brew. Text me if you decide you want me to pick something up.”

He smiled at you tiredly, and you could see the bags under his eyes from across the room, “Thanks, sweetheart, I think I’m good though. Going to work for a few hours and then take a nap.”

“Please take a nap, you need it. How many days do you have left?”

“Three and then next week is finals. So I’ll have tests and papers to grade. Plus my schoolwork.”

“Are the tests multiple choice?”

“Yeah.”

“I can do those. So you can focus on your own shit and the papers.”

You couldn’t be sure, but it looked like his eyes filled up and the lines on his face softened, “That would be fantastic.”

“Alrighty then, sounds like a plan. I’ll see you in a few, you’d better be asleep when I get back.”

Rafe grinned and sent you a salute, “Yes ma’am.”

He had clearly just laid down by the time you got back, and when you walked in, arms full of grocery bags. Laid on the couch, he jolted, eyes snapping open. You winced, “Sorry, babe.”

Putting away the groceries, you went over the couch and knelt down before running your fingers through his hair. He hummed, leaning into your hand, “Not asleep like you told me to, sorry.”

You smiled softly, “S’okay, you almost were, I woke you up.”

“Groceries put away?” he asked suddenly.

“Mhmm.”

Without saying anything else, he lifted the edge of the blanket closest to you, a clear invitation for you to slide in next to him. Huffing out a laugh, you kicked your shoes off and laid down, half on top of Rafe.

Rafe wrapped a leg and both arms around you, adjusting the blanket until he was happy, and then promptly fell asleep. You smiled and rested your forehead on his collarbone, content to lay in silence with him for a little while.

It couldn’t have been more than two hours before an alarm on his phone under the throw pillow started going off, startling you out of the half asleep state you’d fallen into and waking him up completely.

“Fuck,” he slurred, “don’t wanna get up.”

“Sleep more,” you told him, voice just as quiet.

“Can’t. Got a paper on the Black Plague due in a few days, don’t have enough sources yet.”

“Baby,” you muttered, “you’re running yourself ragged. If you don’t sleep your paper won’t be good anyway.”

Rafe shut his eyes tightly, “I know. But I just can’t.”

“Is there something I can do for you.”

“I-” he paused, one hand coming up to rub his eyes, “you aren’t my mom, I hope you know I really don’t see you that way. I don’t want to treat you like that, you need to know that you’re my equal and that you don’t have to take care of me, that I’m capable of it.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I know. Where’s this coming from?”

“Can you,” Rafe sighed, clenching his eyes shut for a second, “would you mind taking care of my laundry? It’s been a few weeks and I’m almost out of underwear.”

“Yeah, of course. I need to do mine too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I did offer.”

“Yeah, but I’ve seen my friends act like children, treat their girlfriend like a glorified mother. I don’t want to be like that.”

“You aren’t,” you reassured, “I promise.”

He smiled wryly, “Let me know if I am, yeah?”

“I will, don’t worry.”

A week later found you and Rafe sitting on the floor, side by side, backs leaning against the couch. He had a key spread out between the two of you, and you had a stack of exams handed in by two sections of the class. He had an even thicker stack of essays in one hand, and a blue pen in the other.

“Why blue?” you asked, twirling your own black pen in your fingers.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, looking over at you.

“Blue pen instead of black or red, why?” you asked again.

“Oh,” he smirked, “Ole Miss blue.”

“You,” your jaw dropped, “I hate you.”

“You so don’t. I’d even go as far to say you love me.”

“You know I do, please don’t act slick. You’re an MSU student now.”

“Uh huh, only two years compared to five at Ole Miss.”

“Grade your essays, I don’t want to talk to you,” you huffed, faking annoyance, and turned up the quiet music playing through the speaker.

He dropped his head back against the couch and whined, “These papers are so bad though. Like they barely even tried.”

“I’m sure they did, babe, but you’re used to graduate level writing now.”

“No,” he shoved one in your face, a strand of hair falling over his furrowed brow, “read this.”

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled it a few inches from your face to read. He stared at you as you scanned, and made a triumphant noise when you squinted,

“There are a few mistakes,” you mumbled.

“Generous,” he added, sounding smug.

“Don’t make fun of kids, they’re barely 18.”

“They’re assholes,” he corrected you, “like I knew it was a mostly freshman class, but goddamn. I hope I wasn’t this annoying back then.”

“You probably were. I mean, you were barely tolerable when you and I met.”

“No, I was relatively mature, I just didn’t know how to express emotion in a normal way.”

You put a hand on his shoulder and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, “You’ve come a long way.”

Rafe’s cheeks went a little red, and you cooed at him. He pushed your face away from his and muttered, “Grade the exams. You’re a menace.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Rafe asked three nights before his last exam.

“Mhmm?” you answered, half asleep.

“Do we have Christmas plans this year?”

“Don’t think so, why?”

“I wasn’t sure if we were going to your parents’ house.”

“Haven’t talked to my mom in a while,” you frowned, “you think I should call her?”

“Up to you.”

“No, you’re part of this decision too. I know you’re exhausted, so if you don’t want to travel, we won’t.”

He frowned, “You can still go.”

“And leave you alone on Christmas?” He shrugged, not meeting your eye, and you pushed yourself up, staring down at him, “Rafe, you know I wouldn’t, right?”

“I mean, we’ve only been together for a year,” he mumbled.

“Not quite yet,” you corrected, absentmindedly, “but still, you’re important to me.”

“Well, in that case, call your mom, we’ll make the trip.”

“Are you sure? Why don’t you take a few days to think it over. I know you’ve never met them in person before. Doing it on a holiday would be a bit overwhelming.”

He laughed, “Yeah, I guess it would.”

“Sleep now, get back to me.”

“Fine.”

The afternoon of Rafe’s last final, you walked into his apartment to hear Christmas music blasting. Your boyfriend was sprawled out on the couch surrounded by beer bottles, and he gave you a lazy wave, “Sup, mamas.”

“Hey, Rafe. How’d the test go?”

“Excellent. Now I’m celebrating.”

“I see that.”

“It’s Christmas season now.”

“Now, huh?”

“Well the tree has been decorated for two weeks now, so I could argue that your logic is flawed.”

“No no,” he held his hand up, “it’s only Christmas now that I can focus on it.”

“You given any thought to Christmas plans?” you asked.

Rafe sat up suddenly, “Yes,” he pointed at you, “what if we FaceTime your parents instead of making the long ass drive.”

“Fine with me. I talked to my mom the other day and she told us that she’d put our presents in the mail anyway. They expected this.”

He frowned, “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Great, sounds great.”

“Great,” you joked in response.

Rafe rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder, “Drink with me.”

“I will. Picked some stuff up this afternoon for spiked eggnog, by the way.”

“Oh fuck yes. Homemade eggnog?”

“Of course.”

He followed you to the kitchen, so close he was almost tripping over your heels, and you huffed, coming to a stop. Rafe ran into your back before stepping back, a sheepish grin on his face, “Sorry.”

“Can I trust you to help me or are you too gone right now?”

“I can help,” he nodded, doing his best to look sober.

“Fine, you’ll stir, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He stood by the stove, wooden spoon in hand, feet spread further than shoulder width apart, dropping down to your height. You measured out the milk and cream and turned the heat up, giving him a weird look, “Why are you standing like that?”

“You were humming that song that’s like do you see what I see and I don’t, so I was curious.”

“It’s a song? You don’t have to take it literally.”

“Hmm, braincells gone. Everything is literal unless specified.”

You snorted, “Stir, dumbass,” before starting to separate the egg whites from the yolks. Keeping an eye on him, you started to whisk the egg yolks, pausing to help him add in the sugar, vanilla and nutmeg when the milk started bubbling.

“Smells good,” he told you, sniffing the mixture.

“It does. You ready to whisk it in?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Rafe very carefully poured and you whisked before pouring it back into the saucepan.

“You got a thermometer?” you asked him, flipping the heat back on.

He pulled open a drawer and brandished one eagerly, clearly proud of himself for being prepared, “Fuck yeah I do.”

“Put it in, tell me when it hits 160.”

Rafe stared, eyebrows furrowed, fully focused on the number. When he told you, you flipped the heat off again and poured in the rum and brandy. Making it a bit stronger than you normally would.

“Bro,” he said, taking a spoonful, “this is incredible.”

“Thanks, bro,” you answered, bumping your hip into his.

“Oh, hip check,” he bumped back, twice as hard, knocking you off balance.

“Rafe,” you glared, stepping away to pour two glasses, “don’t make me spill or you can make another batch on your own.”

“No,” he pouted, “I could never.”

“You couldn’t, no.”

You watched, appalled, as Rafe chugged his first glass, slamming it down and wiping his mouth with the back of his other hand.

“Shit’s good,” he told you earnestly.

“We’re not at a bar, Rafe. Take it easy.”

“Nope, blackout remember?”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, rubbing a hand over your forehead, “pour yourself another I guess.”

Rafe leaned in for a kiss, missing your mouth and landing on your chin, but it was like he didn’t even realize before he was moving around you back to the pitcher you’d poured it in.

It didn’t take many more cups for Rafe to be totally gone, curled up with you on the couch while the live action Grinch played in the background, eyes fluttering shut every few seconds.

“Tired?” you finally whispered, when you were pretty sure there was drool on your shirt.

“Huh?” he asked, blinking rapidly, “No.”

“Sure,” you responded, amused, “let’s go get ready for bed, huh?”

You put the empty cups in the dishwasher before guiding Rafe to the bathroom to make him brush his teeth and get undressed.

“Tryna get me naked?” he asked, swaying in place as he pushed his shirt over his head lazily.

“Yeah,” you answered, rubbing moisturizer in.

Rafe followed you to bed, falling in after you, mostly on top of you, knocking the breath out of your chest.

“Jesus, Cameron,” you wheezed.

“Rafe is fine,” he mumbled into your neck, and was out like a light a few seconds later.

You sighed, squirming under him to try and get comfortable before falling asleep yourself.

day 7 of @obxmermaid‘s holiday challenge: spiked eggnog or cider

#ole miss rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outer banks #outer banks fic #obxmermaidholiday #college rafe

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wantaichi · 4 years

Text

karasuno as guy best friends

all platonic over here, folks.

[reuploading due to tagging problems grr]

SUGAWARA KOUSHI made you swoon the first you met him and no one could blame you - ‘hii i don’t think we’ve met, i’m suga :)’ cue hand shake and soft hand squeeze and pretty eyes staring right into you melting your insides.. he’s just naturally sweet towards everyone and you learn this eventually. loves giving head pats and asking about your day and telling you to ‘take care text me when you get home!’ you‘re always telling him whoever he’d end up with would be the luckiest person on earth and you’d never forgive them if they hurt him. the type of guy best friend who spams your profile pic with comments - ‘wHO IS SHE’, ‘ohhh she glowin!’ - and acts all surprised as if you hadn’t just asked him to choose that photo for you. has a sixth sense for you that’s always so on-point he could tell when you’re faking a smile and would drag you out of the room discreetly saying ‘c’mon lets talk’

DAICHI SAWAMURA acts as the parent/legal guardian throughout your friendship, always reminding you to drink your water and to drop instant noodles from your diet. he has your birthday penciled into his planner and phone calendar, remembers your hyper-specific coffee order from starbucks, and knows all your pet peeves - from slow walkers to being told to ‘chill’ because it invalidates your feelings. the best friend you can trust to do your yearbook write up for you because he knows all your best qualities and remembers all your achievements by heart. doesn’t seem to be aware of his own popularity - his mental age surpasses that of people his age - and couldn’t be bothered with anything concerning romance so you’re always trying to pimp him out set him up with friends and friends of friends who are dying to date him

ASAHI AZUMANE’s always seen as the understated friend in the group just quietly soaking up everyone’s stories in the background but actually has a comedic streak only you and few others know about. it’s easy to miss because he’s too shy to say his jokes out loud so he mumbles them to himself, and they’re so insanely corny - delivered with a straight face - it had you tearing up from laughter the first time you caught him. you love that his brand of funny is free from any kind of attention seeking and feel lucky to be one of the few to witness this side of him. his sense of humor shines best when innocently poking fun at his close friends like doing accurate re-enactments of suga smizing at his reflection or daichi holding his screen 10 inches from his face, or when you’re expressively telling a story and he goes “do that face again” so you do it and he’s like “one more” and idiot you does it again before realizing bitch is trolling you ugh

NISHINOYA YUU is your wild card friend - you never know when he’d show up to things, but when he does, everyone knows. the friend you wished upon a shooting star the way Lilo did and ended up getting a gremlin smh. he’s the spark plug for spontaneous action in your life - would randomly text blast everyone on a weekend to hangout and watch that rooster fight in his neighborhood or go feral at the batting cage downtown, and you’re like wtf...game. deep conversations aren’t really his thing but you’re always so down for anything, to ride along with all the shit he enjoys and listen to his ramblings and it’s that rawness he loves about your friendship. the best friend that has a tendency to go missing in action all of a sudden and no one knows where he is but will randomly hit you up at 10pm to grab ramen with him or those ghetto ass meals ($0.80 rice burgers ftw) on the sidewalk that give you both diarrhea

TANAKA RYUUNOSUKE tried to shoot his shot with you the first you met; now cringes whenever reminded about it because you’re a sausage to him now, as sausage everyone else on the team. the best friend who’s down to hang out literally from morning ‘til dawn, have friends over for a week, go out for late night visits or spontaneous road trips - really anything that serves an excuse to be with the bros (including you). you’d joke about growing sick of each other’s company but deep down you know he’s the one person you could never tire of and run out of fun things to do with. the best friend you could simply be drinking grapefruit shochu with or eating cup noodles and it’d still be one of the most memorable moments with him. the most reliable especially when you’ve gone through a messy break up or when it’s red season - will come over with a whole bag of instant ramen, some takoyaki and some ibuprofen (regardless of the situation)

you and HINATA SHOUYO hit it off within the first hour of meeting each other. you’ve screeched talked about everything there’s to know about the other - volleyball, school life, mutual friends, music taste, siblings, irrational fears and childhood traumas - added each other on facebook, followed each other’s instagram, made plans to watch that game in another school; all within an hour. there’s just something about him that makes it easy for you to open up about anything. the friend that gets you all flustered at the start because he’s so touchy and always poking and hugging you every chance he gets (turns out he’s an accidental flirt). he’s your number one fan and cheerleader and has a way with words that always lifts your spirit, but also definitely the best friend who always gets you sent out of class because your thumb wrestling match or game of tic tac toe got over competitive

KAGEYAMA TOBIO isn’t sure who or what exactly counts as a best friend but he knows which people to trust and which ones trust him back and accept him as he is. yours is a friendship where seeing and talking to each other might happen every few weeks (or even months) but knowing you can count on the other for support and encouragement. there’s never any pressure to be more expressive and he feels comfortable to just be his normal self around you; you’ve probably bonded over mutual interest like volleyball or just sports in general, something that made a lasting impression and led to keeping in touch. you can’t be there in all his games but you make sure to stay updated and send him a ‘congrats!’ or ‘you did your best!’ after matches. you’re sometimes mistaken for his s/o (with how comfortable he is with you), and though neither of you give a shit and even ride along with it sometimes, deep down you’re both thinking: ‘HARD PASS’

YAMAGUCHI TADASHI - timid and innocent, that’s the first impression he gives off to a lot of people. he seems hard to get to know at first but all it takes is a little kindness and authenticity for this boy to warm up to you. deep down he’s hemorrhaging with happiness whenever someone introduces themselves and welcomes him as a friend - he’s never really sure if people like him and he doesn’t like imposing on others. even on a best friend level you’ll learn that there’s so much more layers to him - that he’s loudest when nerding out on things like underdog athletes and comics and art, that he has an eye for aesthetic and beauty and is easily attracted to pretty faces and stylish dressers (but is blind to red flags sighh). he keeps you updated with the trendiest stuff like that milk tea store that just opened or that new release on netflix — always up to date with everything ugh

to TSUKISHIMA KEI, people are either strangers or friends. you could be talking or working together on a daily basis but he’d still consider your friendship superficial; inversely, you could be hanging out only once/twice a week but your conversations would always be interesting or challenging enough for him to keep you around. you’re most likely the louder one or always the one initiating conversations and asking to hang out with him; he’ll call you annoying but secretly appreciates your genuine interest in reaching out to him. you’ll know he acknowledges you as a friend when gives you song recs based on your music taste or asks for your opinion on things - should he get new headphones or that limited edition t-rex figurine? he’ll engage you in debate while studying, in talks about social issues and maybe some existential stuff and you’ll learn that the unforeseeable future led by your generation keeps him up at night

a/n: because my guy best friends started messaging out of nowhere and i’m missing them more than usual.

#karasuno #haikyuu #tsukishima kei #hq!!#haikyuu!!#kageyama tobio #hq headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #sugawara koushi #daichi sawamura #azumane asahi #nishinoya yuu #tanaka ryuunosuke #hinata shouyou #yamaguchi tadashi

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spookysanta · 4 years

Text

online - two. (g.d.)

Summary: everyone warned him about talking to this girl online. but he can’t help but want to fall for her... now he has to meet her. what happens when they finally get together in person?

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x Reader

WARNINGS: sexy thoughts, oops

UNEDITED

click here for part one

***

She didn’t exactly know what to do with herself. Usually, when she’s home, she goes to her classes for the day, grabs something to eat from somewhere on campus, and then she goes back to her apartment where she talks to Grayson until she gets tired. But now she’s here and she doesn’t have to do any of that, which is why she was sitting on Grayson’s bed scrolling mindlessly through social media while he sent an e-mail to “someone important”.

“I’m bored.” She said after about twenty minutes of silence.

“I’m sorry.” He replied.

He was a little shit sometimes and she just wanted to knock him in his perfect head for it.

“You have to entertain me because I’m your guest.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“Okay, well at least talk to me. I have nothing to do.” She rotated her body horizontally, facing Grayson’s desk. She grabbed one of the throw pillows that sat at the head of his bed and rested her head on it as she lay on her stomach. “Can we please do something fun?”

He turned in his desk chair so that they were facing each other. He sighed, “Fine.”

“Yay!”

“You wanna go out or stay in?”

“Mm. I guess we can go out.” She shrugged. “Maybe grab some dinner?”

“Fancy or casual?” he pulled out his phone, to, as she assumes, find somewhere for them to eat that accommodates for him being vegan (at the moment), and for her and her possible allergies. “I think we should do fancy so we can take pictures.”

“Who says I want to take a picture with you?” she joked.

“If you keep playin’ with me, we’ll be eating cereal without milk.”

She decided to be quiet, much to his enjoyment. “Alright, so I’m going to make reservations at Le Comptoir for eight o’clock. So that means we can hang out for a while and then you and I can get fancy-shmancy, and then we can eat until we’re stuffed—or until I run out of money. Whichever comes first.”

“Le Comptoir sounds expensive.”

He replied to her with a, “So?”

“I don’t want you wasting your money on me—”

“I’m sorry, but please shut up.” He groaned. “I don’t know what it is about me spending money on you that annoys you but let me. Let me buy you things, let me take you places, let me spend my money on you. I like spending my money on you. I like making you happy. So just…shut it.”

“Why, though?” she had to ask. She doesn’t think she’s that special. And quite frankly, she doesn’t think she’s worth him going broke. All her life, people have been handing things to her or doing things for her just because they could. So now that she’s an adult, she thinks that earning things or doing things herself is the best way to obtain what she deserves. “What makes me so important that you feel the need to spend your money—your hard-earned money—on me? Isn’t there something else you’d rather spend your money on?”

“Nope.” He got up and sat next to her body on the bed, his leg parallel to her head. She laid on her back this time so she could properly look at him. “You want to know why I spend my money on you?”

She nodded.

“Because you make me happy. Your smile makes me smile. So, whatever I can do to see your smile, to see you light up, I’m going to do.”

That made her smile, as much as she tried to fight it. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. Because I like you a lot. And I would give anything—do anything at all—to make you happy. I can’t help it.”

“You like me a lot?”

He nodded. “Yup.”

“Like…you like me, or you like me?”

“What are you, six?” he laughed out loud, which made her smile turn into a grin. “Do I need to spell it out for you? I want you to be my girl.”

Her heart did a thing. She’s not entirely sure what it did. Maybe she was having a heart attack? Maybe it stopped beating altogether for a moment? Maybe it’s fallen to her ass?

She’s got no idea. But man, she’s happy.

“Really?”

“Yeah. More than anything.”

“So does this mean us going out tonight…is our first date?”

“Technically, I counted lunch at Olive Garden our first date.”

(She did, too.)

“So then it’s our second date?”

“Yeah.”

“Y’know, I’ve never been on a date before.” She confessed.

His jaw dropped. Of course, a girl as beautiful as she is has been taken on a date before! Who the hell has she been dating for them to not take her out and spoil her? Clearly they don’t see how amazing she is. “Well now, we have to make a night out of it.”

“No, we don’t.” Okay, sure, he lectured her about how he spends his money on her because he liked her a lot, and sure, she heard him, but that doesn’t mean she agrees with his logic. “We can just do dinner and then come back.”

He snorted. That was not going to happen. “Yeah, okay.”

***

“(Y/N), are you—fuck.” He entered her room (after knocking first, he wasn’t an animal), and saw her in all of her glory. She was wearing a black sequin cocktail dress and black heels, and really, she brought it as an excuse to go to a club if there was one around. But now, she thinks it was a smart decision to have packed it either way.

“What?” she turned from the mirror on the wall to face him. “Do I look slutty?”

“No, not at all. You look fantastic.”

Clouds. Rainbows. Sunrises. Red. Green. Orange… he had to keep thinking of things that weren’t her and that weren’t what he wanted to do to her in this moment with that dress on so that the blood won’t rush from his head, to his…other head. All it would take is for me to shuffle the dress up, pull her panties to the side, and…purple, blue skies, butterflies, leprechauns.

“Thank you. You look really nice, too.” He was wearing black pants and a white button-up with a black tie. Fancy, yet simple. And she especially thought it was cute that they were both matching (unintentionally). And she had to keep her mind away from what she wanted him to do to her. And obviously, that was difficult, because he was a walking sex puddle. But then he opens his mouth, or he laughs, or he does literally anything at all, and then he’s an adorable teddy bear.

Teddy bear, teddy bear…you can’t have sex with a stuffed animal, (Y/N). If you keep thinking of him as a teddy bear, that’s all he’ll be. A cute, soft, cuddly teddy bear.

“Ready?” he took her out of her trance, and she’s certain she was staring, but he was too. So they’re even. “Kyle’s outside so we can take our pictures here, and then we can go.”

“Okay.” She strutted to where he was and took the arm he offered – his big, strong arm that would just wrap perfectly around her—

No.

Not now, (Y/N). You’re literally on his arm thinking about how you want this exact arm around your throat? Are you that desperate to get laid?

And he smells so good. Like the best kind of good. Like all the best manly scents in the world, plus the smell of mint gum. That good. And all she wanted to do was have his scent engulf her in every possible way. She wanted him to engulf her, really.

They managed to get to the door without her tripping over her feet, and without Grayson deciding they wouldn’t go out and ravishing her against the nearest wall. He opened the door for her and let her walk out first, partially because he’s a gentleman, and partially because his eyes felt the need to wander.

It’s good that they’re on the same page about this whole relationship thing.

And damn, was that a not-so great decision. It was great that he got to look because she was curvy in the best ways and that dress really showed off her “assets”. But he forgot for a quick that he’s a guy with a penis. So the opportunity he had to stare was cut short when he felt himself jump in his pants; which was when he decided to get the show on the road. He closed the door and locked it. Kyle Houck stood outside in the driveway, leaned against his car as he waited for the couple.

“Hey, Ky.” Grayson greeted.

“Hey.” Kyle replied.

She’d never seen what he looked like. She’d seen him in their recent videos, but never really got a look at his face. He was kind of cute, actually. In a stoke of non-flirtatious confidence, she introduced herself with a smile, “Hi, I’m (Y/N).”

He offered his hand to shake, and she did. His hands were soft but a bit cold due to the changing air. “Nice to meet you, I’m Kyle.”

“Okay!” Grayson interrupted. “Time for pictures, I’m hungry.”

The couple took a step back from the car and Kyle began snapping photos. Grayson pulled her in close to him, with an arm securely wrapped around her waist. He took about thirty pictures, each of them followed by a short compliment from Kyle…to (Y/N).

“Okay, (Y/N), you look amazing. How about you take a step forward for me?” he instructed her, crouching down to get a better angle of the two. She took a baby step forward, allowing one of her legs to be in front of the other. “Yep, you look perfect.”

Grayson’s arm tightened around her.

Does Kyle not see him?

And, more importantly, does (Y/N) see him? It’s not like he isn’t standing right next to her or anything.

Who does Kyle think he is telling her that she looks good? Grayson knows she looks good, and he doesn’t need that to be announced to the entire city. She looks good for him. Not Kyle.

“You ready to go?” Grayson asked her not-so kindly. “If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late.”

That wasn’t necessarily a lie, but it wasn’t entirely the truth either.

“Oh, yes, let’s go.” She replied, grabbing her purse from the hood of the car. “Thank you, Kyle!”

“It’s no sweat.” He shrugged. He nodded to Grayson, “I can edit these and get them back to you later.”

“Actually, that’s not necessary. Just give me the drive and I’ll take care of them.”

“You sure, man? I don’t mind.”

“Yup.” Grayson held his hand out. Kyle reluctantly handed him the drive from the camera and Grayson shoved it in his pocket. “Thanks.”

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #dolan tuesday #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan x black girl #grayson dolan x poc #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan imagine #online fic #online

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sooibian · 4 years

Text

Stranger Things (1)

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader ft. Kyungsoo

Genre: Fluff, meet cute, non-idol AU

Description: While waiting to receive Kyungsoo at the airport you run into an insufferable someone - Byun Baekhyun. Despite yourself, you are unable to resist his charms.

A/N: No BaekSoo, no life. Know BaekSoo, know life. This is a highly self indulgent oneshot because I simply cannot resist bobohu anymore. Also if I edit, I’ll never upload. So please, bear with this unedited mess and bad humor (: and try not to hate on OC!

Word Count: ~ 2k

Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four (Final)

gif credits: @x-exo

“He’s a lawyer”, you tilted your head to the side with your nose in the air, foolishly waving your platinum band bearing hand in his general direction. Byun Baekhyun, the man you’d met barely thirty minutes ago, had managed to bring out your inner “chatty Cathy” while eyeing you with the slightest of the smirks tugged at his lips. It was nauseating. The smirk, his bouffant persona, the way he slurped his ramen, his unkempt fake blond hair - he insisted on running a hand though the annoying yet bountiful tousle ever so often - disheveling it further. One glance at his showy Rolex and you’d written him off as a wealthy fop. Yet, here you were, seated in front of him, trying to make sense of the situation.

Kyungsoo’s flight was delayed by over an hour. Although you wanted nothing more than to find the inviting comfort of your bed, you decided to keep your promise of picking him up from the airport. Even if it meant spending time with this strange (literally and figuratively) man. You were no night owl. Therefore, you needed the caffeine fix to stay conscious so you huddled to the coffee shop closest to the arrival gate only to run into him again. The single vacant seat happened to be on his tiny table which he graciously put up for offer - I’m Byun Baekhyun. And I don’t bite! Apart from the unbridled desire to prick his inflated ego with a needle, you realized you’d come on a bit too strong earlier when he mistakenly put his hand on yours while going for the same copy of Forbes in the magazine kiosk. Was he apologetic then? No. Not really. But you didn’t have to pull an ugly face and call him a creep. Sure, lack of sleep made you crabby but you shouldn’t have taken it out on him. It wasn’t your best moment.

You took the seat because (a) never had a person made you feel so conflicted about them. Always too quick to judge, within a few moments you could tell whether you liked someone or absolutely didn’t care about them. But with him you honestly couldn’t figure out whether you loathed him or were in absolute awe of his unabashed demeanor (b) you wanted to make absolutely unnecessary amends.

“What was his name, again?”, stretching and yawning he leaned back in his chair. His shoulders widened to full glory. Lazily, he ran a hand over his chest. Realization hit you like a truck. You were blatantly staring and he’d caught you in the act. Your eyes met his and it made you want to punch that stupid, now very prominent, smirk off of his face. It was time for damage control. Attack, after all, is the best defense.

“Looks like you’re bored. I shall stop”, you said tersely, moving to quickly grab your things.

“It’s 2:45 a.m. Can you blame me?”, he yanked your wallet out of your hand and shoved it in his back pocket, “Continue the story”

“Yahhhhh, give me back my wallet”, you glowered at him.

“Story first”, he sang pulling the wallet out and waving it at you. “Yahhh!”, as you lunged forward, he instinctively drew further back. Frowning, he suddenly ducked under the table.

“What - what happened?”, a quizzical expression clouded your face.

“I’m looking for something”, he mumbled rising gradually. Was that a pout?

“Yah, I can tell. What are you looking for?”

“Your manners. You seem to have suddenly dropped them somewhere”

You felt your face flame, “Byun Baekhyun-ssi!”

“Please, you can call me oppa”

“I may be older, you know?”

“Your cheeks tell an entirely different story”, he chuckled

Fuming, you untied your hair in a desperate attempt to frame your perfectly round face, “Doh Kyungsoo”, you deadpanned.

“Byun Baekhyun”, confused, he pointed at himself.

“Doh Kyungsoo, my fiance”

“Ah… Sounds as boring as ‘civil lawyer’”

“How did you know?? I don’t remember mentioning -”

“Ha! So he is a civil lawyer! So what do your dates look like? Haunting worn down museums? Marvelling over runes?”, he swayed dreamily, eyelids fluttering.

Your saccharine smile didn’t reach your eyes, “Byun Baekhyun-ssi, what do your dates with your girl look like?”

You were surprised to see a genuine smile grace his face. Albeit unconsciously, you mirrored him. It was warm and luminous, his smile, and you were enchanted.

“Ahem”, the ridiculous smirk came back on, “Dates with my Yoona?”

So, there is a girl. You felt a slight pang of jealousy. You prayed for it to not reflect in your eyes.

“My Yoona?” you gagged dramatically and he responded with an equally dramatic loud sigh.

“Let’s see….long walks by the Han river, a little after sunset.. We walk all the way up to the Namsan Tower. She looks radiant in the moonlight… just my Yoona and me...relaxing...chilling”, he smiled like a heavily infatuated thirteen year old.

“That’s a really long walk. Oppa doesn’t have a driver’s license?”, you chided.

He guffawed, “Guess you and Mr. - ?

“Doh! Mr. Doh of Doh, Gom and Associates!”,

“Yes, you and Mr. Doh of Doh - Gom - and Associates”, his words slow, deliberate, “wouldn’t recognize romance if it danced naked in front of you. And that platinum band”, he paused, slowly shaking his head.

You drew your hand close to your chest defensively, “What about it?”

“So… a very close friend of mine got engaged recently and I went ring shopping with him. It was an intense drill. But now I know all there is to know about the right cut, hallmark, color, purity, you get the drift. And that”, he took a piteous glance at the ring.

“I could really do without the condescension”

“I’m sorry, but it looks thrift store bought”

“Baekhyun-ssi, your limited experience may have falsely led you into believing that you’re a connoisseur of platinum. But if you care to look past your high-end store shopping spree, you’ll see that this is heirloom”

“Does it have P-950 stamped on it?”

Your glare shut him up and he raised his hands in surrender. Pouting. Again.

You gawked at him in pure admiration. How could a man like that be capable of the most endearing pouts was beyond you.

“Look, I don’t know if you care about Kyungsoo but the flight should’ve landed by now and I don’t want to keep my friend waiting after a red eye flight… so”, he got up to leave and you hurriedly followed suit, “it was an absolute pleasure meeting you”

Your hand met his in a firm handshake which neither of you cared to break for a good thirty seconds. You knew you’d never see this man again and you felt a certain unpleasantness wash over you at the thought.

His captivating grin made an appearance, accelerating your heartbeat.

You exited the coffee shop first and when you turned around to look for him, he was gone.

***

You greeted Kyungsoo with a punch in the shoulder, “You’re late”

“I tried but they wouldn’t let me into the cockpit”, he said pinching your ear with one hand and twisting your arm with the other.

You successfully managed to wiggle of his strong grasp and attack him with a bear hug, “I’ve missed you”

He softly patted your head before your show of affection started to smother him. Breaking out of your hug he teased, “Tsk, tsk, you’ve grown soft”

“Can you blame me? My best friend moved to a strange city to farm! He’s not been around much to toughen me up” You didn’t care that he hated it. You leaned in to hug him, anyway, “any progress on the land dispute?”

“I’ll be seeing a lawyer for it”, he indulged you by continuing to gently sway you. Apparently, he’d missed you, too.

“Hmm...a civil lawyer”, you contemplated.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing”, you sighed pulling away from him to call a cab, “When are you seeing this lawyer”

“Right now”

“What? Kyungsoo! It’s 4 in the morning! Can’t this wait?

“No”, he deftly locked your phone, “because he also happens to be a friend of mine and he’s here and he has offered to drive us home”

“He’s here?”

Kyungsoo forced your head to take a 180 degree turn.

You froze at the sight of the blond haired man standing in front of you. Your eyes barely short of pleading, you grabbed Kyungsoo’s hand lacing your fingers with his.

Baekhyun chuckled, “Congratulations, man. I didn’t know you were engaged!”

“Engaged? No, I’m not engaged!” Kyungsoo's voice now a several notches louder.

You were quick to nudge Kyungsoo’s arm with your elbow and snicker softly, “He likes to joke when he’s tired...We’re all tired. Won’t you bring your car now, Baekhyun-ssi?”

“You two know each other?” Nothing made sense to Kyungsoo anymore.

Your feeble No was drowned by Baekhyun’s loud Yes.

“Anyway..”, Kyungsoo introduced you to Baekhyun as his best friend and it made you want to be on the next expedition to Mars.

“And this is Byun Baekhyun. My elementary school friend”. Baekhyun handed you a business card which you accepted with trembling fingers.

Byun, Park and Associates

Byun Baekhyun

Partner

LL.M.

You were mentally prepared to go on a solo expedition to Neptune and freeze to death.

“We lost touch in high school only to meet again at Jongdae’s engagement party”

Platinum, Baekhyun mouthed when your guilt ridden eyes met his.

“And he has very kindly agreed to help me out with my case”

***

“What- What the hell was that?”, Kyungsoo hissed.

“I don’t know… at first I didn’t want him to think I was available. So I started to spin a web of lies. Then I was curious to see how far I could go, you know, without faltering. Besides, you always keep calling me a bad liar. He was just...in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess…”, you let out a huge yawn.

Kyungsoo flicked your forehead. “Couldn’t you have found someone else to be your guinea pig? It had to be my lawyer? The airport is swarming with people - ”

“AND viruses!”, you adjusted your mask pointedly, “Yet, here I am. For your ungrateful ass!”

“Soo! HELP”, you cried.

“Forget this ever happened. You’re never going to see him again, anyway”, he was dismissive of your plea.

“Soo, but I want to”, you said in a small voice.

Kyungsoo was too dumbfounded to speak. His eyes did all the talking.

“I want to see him again”, you avoided his eyes.

Still, nothing.

“It’s a crisis situation, Soo!”, defeated, your face slumped into his chest, “I think I’m in love with a man who apparently has a girlfriend and most probably thinks that I’m a pathological liar.”

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kinghoranshit · 3 years

Text

Tell Me a Lie (NH) Ch 1

Word count: 1,514

Warnings: Swearing

Slightly frustrated, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and then twisted it into a messy bun. I set my classic square, thick rimmed, black glasses on my face and I continued on trying to read the final turnaround manuscript for Stone Cold. It was the first book of the trilogy that my best friend and I wrote through college. We decided to finally take the initiative to self-publish it.

My bachelor’s was in English, with a concentration in creative writing. I was an editor for a company based in London, United Kingdom while I lived in the United States. I wasn’t ready to move across the ocean yet.

I bit down on my black ballpoint pen, concentrating on the words. It was the read through before I’d make it into a PDF with InDesign. This was the time to make any last minute changes we wanted, which was both exciting and nerve-wracking. As my meadow eyes flowed across the paper, I barely made any marks.

I glanced at the time on my phone and cursed under my breath.

It was 6:00 pm. I needed to change my editing to the current manuscripts for work.

Fuck.

I marked my spot before I closed the binder and switched it out with the Rivals binder. There was a ding from my laptop before I could get indulged, and noticed Skype had pulled up. I furrowed my eyebrows and my heart skipped a bit when I saw his name and picture. I answered and adjusted my position so I was facing it more.

His blue eyes filled my vision, literally.

“Niall, back the fuck up.”

His laugh sounded and he backed his phone away now. I was getting a wonderful view of bare chest hair and double chin now.

“Laureeeen.”

“Niaaalll,” I mocked.

He was obviously tired, but he wouldn’t sleep until he wanted to. He was a stubborn motherfucker like that, I’ve learned over the past few years. It didn’t matter what timezone he was in compared to me. Currently, he was six hours ahead.

He made a short laugh. “How’s it going?”

I shrugged as I brought my legs up to my chest and peered over them with my chin resting on my knees. “Alright, I had to stop the final editorial for Stone Cold and switch to one for work. Spent more time on it than I intended… It’ll be a late night.”

“Hast doth serious?”

I made a small snort, laughing a little more. “Ye, hast doth tots serious. Why ist ye calling doth?”

Niall laughed. “Doth hast a plan to present thee.”

“Ok. Can thee stop speaketh like thisth?”

“Yes.”

I smiled. “What plan are you talking about?”

“I want you to be my next PR girlfriend.”

I busted out laughing, hysterically. It was embarrassing, but I couldn’t stop.

“Kelly, love, I’m serious. This is a legit business offer.”

I stopped now, clearing my throat. “Really?”

Niall nodded, ruffling a hand through his hair.

“Why me? How did you come to the conclusion of having me as a PR girlfriend?”

He chuckled under his breath and sat up more on the couch. “Well… It’s just… Management thought it’s time for another PR girlfriend. I chose you because I thought you’d be able to handle it... and I don’t hate you.”

“Good to know.” I smirked, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in my stomach. “I’m not quite saying yes yet, and I’m not saying there has to be something in it for me… but is there?”

He nodded. “Yeah, the deal would be one tweet from me official account to promote the Stone Cold trilogy with the link, and Modest! will pay off all the student loan debts you have.”

My eyes went a little wide and I took a slow, deep breath. “That’s quite the trade, Nialler. I don’t know if I could accept all that for being your fake girlfriend.”

“Lauren, trust me, the trade is enough for what you might endure. It might not even be enough, now that I think about it. I sort of hate myself now for even thinking of dragging you in.”

I shook my head. “Niall… Don’t worry.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You’re saying yes?”

“Yes. So, how is this going to work exactly?”

“Before we can even do anything, I’m gonna send ya papers to sign. Just formal stuff and liability.”

“Of course, of course,” I replied. My mind raced to how we would go about this, and I knew it would involve paparazzi. Photos would be spread everywhere and there would be no going back after it started.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I played with the cap of my pen.

“What’re you thinking, Kelly?” Niall questioned, worry underlying his tone.

I cleared my throat. “I’m not backing out, I promise. I just know that once it starts, there’s no going back. It’ll take time to adjust.”

“I’ll be there every step of the way. Our first thing will be getting photos of us in public together and the fandom will kick it off from there… We’ll confirm it eventually. Then have an interview or two and events with red carpets.”

“Okay.” I nodded with a slightly heavy sigh. “Sounds easy enough. When’re you thinking we’ll do the first photos?”

He let out a heavy sigh, causing his front ends to fly up momentarily, and then he couldn’t help himself from ruffling his hand through them. “If we can get the paperwork sorted in the next day or two, I was thinking in roughly two weeks. Location is still to be decided.”

“Okay. It’ll be great to see you in person again. We haven’t in over a year.”

“Yeah, well I was busy with the tour,” he remarked with a chuckle.

“I know, the last time I saw you was the Chicago show.”

He scoffed. “I can’t believe you bought the meet and greet. I got you backstage after the show.”

I rolled my eyes. “I wanted to support one of my best friends. We got a great photo to commemorate.”

“You’re right.” He lightly rolled his eyes.

“What’s our cute meet story?” I asked, randomly considering it. I felt that it would be important for the fans to think we were believable.

He smirked, his blue eyes brightening. “We met in London at a coffee shop a few years back by chance and continued to talk from there. I asked you out around my 25th birthday and you cried, saying yes. We’ve been together since… Good, right? I made up the story meself.”

I giggled. “Yeah, it’s good. So we’ve been together for over a year?... And I don’t think I cried. I think you cried after I said yes.”

“Shut the fuck up, Kelly. How about no one cried then, yeah?”

“Deal.” I stood up now and prepared my keurig to make a cup of decaf coffee. I needed something if I was going to get anything done after this call. I knew I spent too much time on personal projects; it was a constant fight.

“Coffee, eh?” he snickered.

I looked at him with an amused grin. “Always. But it’s decaf, a pick me up to get me through the rest of the work.”

Niall nodded. “Been there. Had some long studio sessions recently that led to a few cups of tea.”

“Man, I wish I hadn’t run out of my grey tea.” I would’ve preferred that for a night of editing. Coffee was more of an early morning and afternoon beverage.

“You’re so basic,” he teased. “Where have the lessons I’ve taught you gone?”

I rolled my eyes. “In one ear and out the other.” I couldn’t help laughing at the offended look on his face. “I’m joking. Hey look, I should let you go so you get some sleep and I can get editing done.”

He yawned lightly. “Perfect. Goodnight, Lauren. Text ya soon.”

“You too.”

We made small waves and smiles before we ended the call. His face took a while to fade away from my mind. Honestly, it probably won't be until tomorrow. He was just so unforgettable and without a doubt the bestest friend to have. He could always make me smile on my lowest of days. Now we were going to possibly be a PR couple.

Well this was fucking mad. I guess it was time for life to throw me another curveball to change my life; for better or for worse. I was going to go with it head on.

I wasn’t sure how much I’d tell my friends and family at the moment. I should wait for the contract and see what my guidelines were. I knew that included my social media so I was going to go silent for a bit until it was settled.

My eyes read the black ink on the paper, but my mind wasn’t registering anything. Fuck, I needed to focus. This wasn’t set and done yet. It shouldn’t be a concern for me at this point of time.

Next: Ch 2

[Masterlist]

#Niall Horan #Niall Horan fic #Niall Horan fanfiction #romance #drama #comedy #Tell Me a Lie #Niall Horan fluff

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wildbootsappeared · 3 years

Text

Continental Divides Chapter Discussion #0: Humble Origins/Editing and Rewriting

I recently enjoyed hearing Negrek talk about the behind-the-scenes of the most recent chapter of Salvage and was inspired: I figure some of you might be interested in hearing some of that type of thing for Divides, too. CD touches on some pretty complicated subjects (historical events and politics and glazed-over-science) that are worth teasing apart a little more. So I’m going to start slowly adding in some chapter reflection posts! Keep in mind that these will probably be full of spoilers, and you’ll want to get caught up before you read em.

If you want to hear me talk about something specific, feel free to shoot me a question.

(By the way, if you’re not reading Salvage yet—fam, get on my level. I’d describe it as a black humor odd-couple tale of … friendship??? Hm, that’s definitely not the right word, is it? Anyway! Featuring: an absolute goblin of a pokemorph, dismemberment, corruption, and Very Good Decisions. And lovely prose, by the way.)

With that, let’s get into it!

(CD spoilers below!)

Art by Giulia Bernardelli

From Humble Origins

I’ve mentioned before that Mark and Natalie were my first original characters. They were side characters in my first ever fic from … god, 2003 or 2004-ish? So in many ways, they’ve grown up with me.

I learned about fanfic shortly after Ruby and Sapphire came out in the US, so of course baby OSJ had to try her hand at a Hoenn journey fic. I’m really sad that I don’t have a copy of the original text anymore because it was hilariously bad. You see, Brendan and May had to run away from home (instead of just … journeying like every other trainer?) because they were IN LOVE (after, like, a day and a half at most) but their parents WOULDN’T LET THEM BE TOGETHER. The story featured dazzling moments of creative genius like … Brendan and May “sneaking” into Rustboro at the wee hour of 10 am, whereupon May ran into a lamp post somehow.

Later, Mark and Natalie appear to yell at our poor heroes and then at each other. Lots of yelling. In their first inception, Mark and Nat were basically discount Jesse and James but with less dress-up and queer subtext. Mark had a glorious moment of running while dragging his feet (?). Also, during a double battle against Brendan and May, I forgot about his zubat, so it fainted because “it was tired from flying,” despite having no feet and despite taking zero hits during the fight. Then Mark took shelter from the rain under a tree, where Natalie yelled at him some more and decided for both of them that they had to team up “temporarily” to get the red and blue orbs back from those meddling kids or something. I had grand plans for this whole plot where Natalie would kidnap May to get the orbs, but then May would end up in Magma’s hands (like a human hot potato), and Brendan would have to rescue her??? Something, something, Mark and Natalie see the error of their ways and team up to help Brendan and May … do stuff?

Anyway, I never finished it, and that’s definitely for the best.

I did revisit Mark and Natalie a few years later, though, this time for a story of their own called Out of Hand. I didn’t finish that one either, but I do have the original text this time (plus snarky comments and a “review” from me ten years after the fact). I can’t honestly tell you it was … good. Maybe good-for-a-highschooler. But! When I stumbled upon it again in 2018, there was enough in it that almost worked that I started to think about how I’d handle those themes and characters as an adult.

A lot has changed since then, but that 2010 draft of Out of Hand established some of the skeleton of Continental Divides. For example, that was when Archie became Natalie’s brother to help explain how she got involved in Aqua. I decided to keep that structure because it was a good way to let Natalie start as a neutral party/reader proxy and then quickly become embroiled in the conflict. It was also the first time Mark’s sister appeared, though I don’t think I’d decided what to do with her at the time except to use her as decorations in his angsty dreams, haha. His smoking habit also started in 2010. I, too, thought he’d quit “years ago,” in literal real time. Jokes on me—it turned out to be a useful way to signal the start of him losing control, the negative influence of Cora/Magma in his life, his hypocrisy, and his guilty feelings about things he’s burned. Scarlet appeared for the first time in this draft, too. I think I was equal parts trying to humanize Archie and to write my way through feelings about growing apart from/pining for someone. Her backstory took up a disproportionate number of pages in the old draft, but I liked the idea of keeping her around as a figure who could complicate Natalie’s relationship with Aqua and with Archie. The 2010 has a couple fights between Mark and Natalie that I respect for bringing real danger to the protagonists ... but also can’t help laughing at. They literally fight until they tumble over a waterfall, like a cartoon. Silly as those scenes are, you can also see how they laid a foundation for scenes like the fight in Chapter 9.

CD is basically me responding to Out of Hand with, “I see you and I raise you.”

2010-OSJ had some vague feelings about inequality and environmentalism, but none of it was very well thought-out. She mostly wanted to tell an enemies-to-lovers story, in part because she thought she was living in one IRL. Nowadays, I’ve got a lot of feelings about climate change, political divisions, activism and responsibility, corporations, policing, and whether or not violence is a good answer to certain kinds of questions. Hoenn is a safe space to explore those feelings. (It’s got pokemon, so it’s inherently more fun, right???)

Kyogre and Groudon are such obvious parallels to sea level rise/more intense storms and rising temperatures/wildfires respectively that I couldn’t resist. And in Magma/Aqua I see a lot of parallels to political conflicts happening in the US right now. The far left and the far right don’t share a vision of what a “better world” would look like, but they do share a mutual mistrust of “the swamp” and all the ways the government tag-teams with corporations to dunk on ordinary people. I’d love to believe that someday we could team up across the aisle to fight corruption together. It’s certainly hard to imagine how we could get to a better world with one half of the country pitted against each other … Something has got to give eventually, probably not peacefully.

My versions of Magma and Aqua aren’t exact parallels to the US political left and right—both are pretty left-leaning, for one—but I still find a lot of hope in the idea of two enemies from rival factions learning to (eventually) care for one another and work together towards common goals. At the very least, it’s something I can manifest and control on the page, and that makes me feel better about all the things I can’t control.

Editing and Rewriting

My first attempt at Continental Divides was inarguably an improvement on earlier versions of Mark and Natalie … but it still took quite a bit of rewriting to get to the draft that’s available to read now. The first draft in 2018 opened with what’s now Chapter 3, the protest in Rustboro. I had the right idea with “starting at the beginning,” but starting with an action scene was the wrong move: we didn’t know enough about Natalie to care when she was in trouble or to understand why she was making any of those choices. Moreover, even though the political content is important, this is ultimately still an enemies-to-lovers story: the beginning needed to center Mark and Natalie’s relationship. You know, to establish some interest before it all implodes. The next attempt ran a little long, though, and the current version condenses their initial meeting and Nat’s backstory much better. Maybe the next time I start a new project I’ll have an easier time knowing what makes a good starting point, but this time there was a lot of swinging back and forth to find a balance.

If you’re interested in seeing how my first chapter changed over time, you can see that here.

I’m really happy to have a first chapter I know is a solid representation of the subject matter, tone, and writing level of the later chapters. Getting stuck in an editing loop is a real danger … but if you’re ever going to edit part of your fic, let it be the first chapter. A good first chapter is critical to keeping potential readers onboard. I can tell from feedback that I’ve stuck the landing now.

Hope you enjoyed this not-so-little reflection on the origins of this story!

Some music (Spotify links):

Night of the Long Knives - Everything Everything

MMMMHMMMMM - Four Fists

#continental divides #pokemon fic #pokefic #pokemon fanfic #team magma #team aqua #fanfic #writing about writing

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soheila-1996 · 4 years

Text

My story- Part Eight

I meant to post this last night but while I was editing I started to not feel well so I decided that I’d leave it and headed to bed.

My little disclaimer

I have epilepsy. This details my seizures, I can’t speak for everyone, everyone’s seizures/ experiences are different. This is graphic. Seizures are messy. They aren’t fun and it felt wrong to make it out to be cute when they really aren’t. Pretty much all the things that happen in the plot have happened to me. Well, I’m not married to a king or live in a palace so…there’s that but everything else is accurate. There may be some jokes about it here because I do joke about it sometimes. It makes me more comfortable and I find it helps relax everyone around me. I’m also writing about it because there really aren’t that many fics written about it and I think it’s important to shine light on it.

Any feedback is really appreciated! :)

Tagging people who shared the last part. You don’t have to read it! I just thought you might want to see what happens: @kacie-0156 @texaskitten30, @cordonianroyalty, @kingliam2019, @bebepac, @kingliam-rys, @cordonia-gothqueen, @kimmiedoo5, @bbrandy2002, @loveellamae @bobasheebaby @losingbraincellseveryday @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @jared2612 @flutistbyday2020 @debramcg1106 @anotherbeingsworld @leaharhys @cordoniaqueensworld @bascmve01

Paring: Liam and Riley

Warnings: Blood

Word count: 4,108

Catch up here

(Liam’s POV)

My watch tells me it’s 4:30 am and I’ve only been able to get just under an hour of sleep. I don’t think that’s solely down to the uncomfortable chair I’ve been sitting in for hours but rather I just can’t seem to get what happened out of my head. I honestly think that it’s going to stick with me for a while to come.

The worst thing is I know that this could happen again. I know she said last night that we’d get through this together but I know her. I think she was just saying what she thought I wanted to hear.

Riley's still asleep, still a little bit drowsy from the medication. That’s a good thing though, she hasn't been sleeping very well for a little while, so I’m happy that she’s getting some rest.

It was about half an hour later when Riley woke up. I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my thighs as she rubbed at her eyes.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” I asked her calmly.

“Okay,” she replied, “Just tired,” she said, through a yawn. “What are you still doing here?”

I’m a little taken aback by her question. Does she really think that I’d leave her?

“I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

She seemed to become slightly irritated. “I’m literally in the safest place possible. I think I can go a couple hours without you,” she told me harshly.

I swallowed thickly, “I never said you couldn't. I-I’m just worried about you.”

“I know but I’m fine.”

“Riley-”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, cutting me off. “I feel fine. Everyone is just overreacting.”

“Overreacting?” I questioned with a scoff. She nodded. “Riley, your seizure lasted for over ten minutes, when in reality it should’ve stopped at around two minutes- nobody is overreacting. We all have a right to be worried about you after that.”

“I’m fine..”

“You very nearly weren’t fine, Riley. You do understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I understand that, Liam,” she huffed. “What time is it?”

I glanced down at my watch, “5:05,” I told her.

“Go home, Li, get some sleep- you look like you haven't gotten any.”

“Your mom and dad are still here. Would you rather one of them come and sit with you instead?” I questioned.

She shook her head, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I know. I didn’t mean it like that. ” I explained, “They’re both really worried about you too.”

“I’m not the one who called them in the first place,” She mumbled as she adjusted her position on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” She scoffed. “Riley, please try and put yourself in my shoes. I love you..more than anything, more than I’ve ever loved anyone and you’re struggling with something I can’t understand and there’s nothing I can do to stop it-”

“Will you just leave me alone please?” She asked, cutting me off before I could finish explaining to her how awkward and devastating this whole situation actually is from my point of view.

“Okay, if that’s what you want?”

“It is.”

I nodded and got to my feet. I opened the door and turned around to face her. “I love you,” I said but got no response. “I’ll see you later”

The door swung shut behind me as I left. Maybe sometime alone, time to process and think over what happened might help. I hope it does anyway.

I can’t help but let a couple of tears fall. I want to be there for her but I just don’t know how to be. I feel as if everything I’m doing is the wrong way to go about it.

I head down the corridor towards the waiting room. I can see through the window that Micheal and Karol are in fact still here. By the way her dad’s head is hanging, I concluded he must be asleep but Karol is still awake sipping something, coffee probably, from a white plastic cup.

I tapped my knuckles lightly against the door and then pushed it open. Karol looks up at me sleepily to begin with but then panic flashes across her face at seeing my red eyes.

“Is she okay?”

“Yes,” I replied quietly to not wake my father-in-law. “She’s okay. She just wants a little bit of time alone,” I explain. Karol nods. “I’m going to go home and get her a change of clothes.”

“Are you okay?” I nod. “Really?”

“This isn’t about me,” I shrug. I cleared my throat. “I won’t be long. Do either of you need anything?”

“We’re good.” I nodded and headed for the door. “Try and get some sleep. There’s no rush to get back,” she told me.

I nodded, “You too.”

(Riley’s POV)

It’s been a couple hours since I have last seen Liam. My mom and dad sat with me for a little bit but I really just want to be alone right now. I don’t need to be lectured which practically was what the pair had done.

I don’t want any of them around as a constant reminder of how much I scared everyone or how much I’ve upset them.

This entire situation reminds me so much of what happened with Ben a few years ago. It is kind of like history is repeating itself. I can’t stop my mind wandering back to that day with Ben when it all started to go wrong.

I had been off school for a little while with a stomach bug, which had messed with my epilepsy since I couldn’t take my medication. My epilepsy is not very well controlled right now, my dosages of my medication have been changed a few times because of that and the bug really didn’t help- I’m still trying to figure it out and get it back under control.

I’m back at school now. I went back on Monday and now It’s Wednesday, I’m feeling much better now, I’ve haven't had a seizure since Sunday evening. After begging my overprotective parents, I’m now at my boyfriend's house.

I’ve been with Ben for a little while but he doesn’t know about my epilepsy. It’s not an easy thing to tell someone. No one knows at school, except my teachers just in case it were to happen.

I’ve been at his house for just over an hour just hanging out and finishing off some homework that's due in tomorrow- well, we were supposed to be but we’re a little bit..otherwise occupied at the moment.

His hands are currently tangled in my hair and our lips are joined together in a heated, passionate kiss. My hands move from his cheeks down to his neck when my stomach flips. I don’t immediately think anything of it and continue, until my arm begins to tingle. His lips start to travel down my neck and I push him away.

He looks up at me, confusion and a little bit of annoyance flashing across his face. I unsteadily get to my feet and run my one hand through my hair to try and straighten it out a little.

“What’s wrong?”

I take in a deep breath, “I- I dun’t feel very vell.”

“What?” He asks me with his eyebrows creased.

“I-I dun’t- I’m gonna be sick.”

He stood up, grabbed the trash can from the otherside of the room and handed it to me. I puke and he looks at me with a look of disgust.

“What is wrong with you?” There’s no trace of concern or worry laced in his voice.

It's like I’m looking into a distorting mirror, everything is wavy, moving in and out, like I’m on a boat and it’s only making my nausea worse.

My left arm is completely numb and tingly now- I don’t think I could move it if I wanted to. My legs don’t feel right either.

I can see Ben’s mouth moving but I'm too disorientated to be able to register his words. Nothing makes sense anymore.

I turn in a slow circle to try and look at my surroundings in the hope that I’d be able to see something that would tell me where I am but I don’t.

Where am I?

My legs buckle and I fall unceremoniously to the floor. I don’t have the cordoniation to try to ease myself down gently. I place the trash can beside me as I continue to look around me.

What's happening?

“What are you doing? Get up.” I can hear his voice but it’s like it's a million miles away.

The room is spinning.

“Riley,” he called again but I don’t understand. Someone crouches in front of me and grabs my arms trying to pull me up. I can’t stand up but whoever is trying to make me doesn't seem to understand that.

“N-no,” I say, my voice slurred as I try to push the person away from me. “Stop.”

He lets go of me and I once again meet the ground with a thud. I feel like I need to lay down so I do.

The world keeps spinning though and nothing makes sense.

I look up and see something hovering above me. I don’t have the capabilities to figure out if it's a person or not.

I feel tears pricking at my eyes.

I’m scared.

I don’t understand what's going on.

I don’t have long to try and piece everything together before everything goes black.

(Ben’s POV) Riley’s just acted really weird and now she’s laying on the floor shaking. Her limbs are flailing and hitting the floor below her harshly.

What is she doing?

“Riley get up,” I ordered but she didn't reply. I step closer to her in time to see some spit start to leak out of her mouth. “Ew!” I exclaimed as I stepped back away from her.

I moved away from her weirdly contorting body, sat down on my bed and picked up my phone. I opened up my friend's contact and sent him a text.

Me: I think Riley is possessed or something. 🤷🏻‍♂️

Lucas: What? Seriously?

Me: Yeah! I’ll film it and send it to you.

Lucas: Can’t wait!

I open up my camera and point it at Riley’s still shaking body. I see some blood start to pool out of the corner of her mouth. I stand up and move my phone closer to it. “That is disgusting.”

I move the phone to her still partially open eyes.

“I knew you were a bit weird but I didn’t think you were possessed,” I mumble as I make sure my phone is still recording. “This is like something from paranormal activity.”

My mouth fell open when a wet patch started to appear on her pants. I stifled a laugh as I pointed my phone at it as it covered the crotch area and started to spread down the legs. “That is so gross.”

It was about a minute later and I heard a knock at my door before my mom popped her head in. “I heard banging what’s-” Her eyes widened when she caught sight of Riley on the floor.

She dropped down onto her knees and turned her over onto her side- going into full blown nurse mode. More disgusting stuff dripped out of her mouth down onto my carpet.

“How long has she been like this?” My mom asked me. I answered with a shrug as I continued to point my phone at her. “Ben!” she exclaimed.

“She’s fine,” I yelled back.

“She’s having a seizure and you’re doing nothing.” She sighed as she grabbed my sweatshirt off the end of my bed and placed it under her head.

“She’ll get stuff all over it,” I complained. She sent me a warning glare. I watched as she looked at Riley’s wrists and around her neck. “What are you doing?”

“Looking if she has a medical ID- she doesn't.”

“So?” I questioned. “She’s joking.”

“Put the phone away and call her mom. I need to know if she's ever had a seizure before.”

I followed my mother’s orders , I shut the camera off then searched Riley's contacts for her mom’s. Karol answered a couple minutes later.

“Ri?”

“It’s Ben,” I told her. “My mom wants to know if Riley has ever had a seizure before?”

“Ben?” My mom questioned. I shushed her as Riley's mom explained to me that she has epilepsy. “Ben?”

“Yes,” I answered exasperatedly. “She has epilepsy apparently.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “Ben, this is important: how long has it been going on?”

I thought for a second. “Two- three minutes.”

“Pass me the phone.” I handed over Riley's phone to her and listened as my mom asked Karol a couple more questions. By the time she had finished, Riley’s movement’s started to slow down.

She placed the cell down beside her as Riley stopped shaking completely. “There you go,” she whispered. I rolled my eyes and sat down on the end of my bed.

It was a minute later- we’d been sitting in an awkward silence when my mom spoke. “You better delete that video,” she told me. “How could you? You're her boyfriend, Ben.”

“Not anymore,” I mumbled. “I’m not dealing with this,” I said, gesturing to Riley on the floor.

She shook her head at my reply, “I am really disappointed in you.”

“Whatever,” I muttered. just then, her eyes started to flutter open.

“I think you should go and wait outside if that’s going to be your attitude.”

“Fine,” I said, as I stood and walked out.

(Riley’s POV)

My eyes flutter open and I’m immediately petrified. I try to move but I can’t

Why can’t I move?!

Where am I?!

Why can’t I hear either?!

What’s happening?!

My vision is spotty and my memory blotchy. I don’t know where I am, I don’t understand how I ended up here. I turned my head. I can see a figure crouched down beside of me and that makes me panic. I can’t tell who it is. I’m trying to squirm away but my body doesn’t want to comply.

I’m scared.

Everything is blurry right now, I can’t see who it is or what it is. I just know it’s a person that I don’t want near me.

The more my eyes darted around the room the more I started to realise that I had no idea where I am.

“Riley,” a calm voice calls. I soon realise that it’s coming from the figure beside me.

I want my mom and dad- they’ll protect me from this stranger. They’ll take me away from this strange place.

“Riley, can you hear me?” I turned my head to follow the direction of the sound. The figure’s facial features start to become clear. It takes me a little while to figure out it’s Erica- Ben’s mom.

Why is she here?

I look around the room and figure out that I’m in Ben’s room. “Ben?” I question.

“He’s not here right now,” she explained to me calmly. I’m too out of it to think about questioning her more about his absence.

“What happened?”

“You had a seizure. Your mom is on the way to pick you up, okay?”

I nod. I don’t really understand what’s going on and so her explanation goes right over my head. A little bit of time passes before I’m more alert and ask the question again. Erica calmly explains it all to me again.

“Where’s Ben?” I asked as she helped me to sit up.

“He got a little upset and thought it best that he wait outside.” I nod in understanding- seizures are scary and upsetting.

It was only a few minutes later when my mom arrived. I was now sitting on Ben’s bed, she crouched down in front of me. I pulled my shirt down a little as I tried to cover the wet patch. She gave me a small smile.

“Are you okay? I knew this was a bad idea,” she mumbled.

“I’m fine. Can we just go home please?” She nodded and helped me out to the car. Erica said goodbye to us both.

We were on the way home. I was leaning my head against the window with my eyes closed. It was so embarrassing! I didn’t see Ben again before we left. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking.

My phone dinged which pulled me from my thoughts. I opened my eyes and unlocked my phone. My heart sank as I read the text.

Ben: we’re over.

My phone dinged again as he sent a photo. It was of me on the floor in the middle of having a seizure, a bit of blood was coming from my mouth and my pants were wet.

It dinged again.

Ben: This was so gross. I can’t deal with this.

I can’t stop the tears that fell from my eyes. I sniffled- that gained my mom's attention.

“What’s wrong, Ri?” She asked, her voice full of concern.

I wiped my eyes. “Nothing.” I just don’t understand how someone that is supposed to love me could do that.

It turned out he hadn’t stopped recording when Erica told him to. I found out the next when he sent it to Lucas who then shared with all of his friends. I heard all the horrible things that he said about me when I was at my most vulnerable.

What kind of person does that?

** I’m feeling a little bit more energized now that the sedatives have worn off. I’m getting sick of lying in this bed while people pop in and out. I climbed out of bed, the IV had been taken out a little while ago so I’m now free to move around, and headed over to a chair in the corner with the bag of clothes that I came in with.

This gown is all itchy and uncomfortable. I quietly pushed the door to my room closed then changed. It was only a pair of leggings and a hoodie but at least they were comfortable. I slipped on my slippers, grabbed my phone then sneaked out of my room.

I need some fresh air. I need to clear my head.

I hate hospitals. I’ve spent enough time in them over the years. Especially when I was a kid.

There’s apparently a flower garden outside of the hospital so I head out to find it. It doesn't take me very long to find it.

There’s nobody else here. Thankfully. I just need to be alone for a few minutes, truly alone without doctors and nurses keep coming in and out, without my mom and dad lecturing me. Anyone would think that I’m a child and not a competent adult more capable of making my own decisions.

I take a seat on the bench and pull her jacket around me more to shield me from the cold. I left out a yawn as I looked around my surroundings. The flower garden is actually quite pretty, It looks like a fair bit of work has been out into it. There’s a bench with a couple of planters beside them and a couple of hedges around it, sectioning it off from the parking lot around the hospital.

I rub my hands over my still very tired eyes- everything is just a mess. A big unravelling mess that I just can’t seem to escape. I hate all of this.

No one told me life was going to be this way. I could’ve done with a warning. I would’ve appreciated one because It’s just one thing after another.

I don’t know where to go from here.

In an ideal world I should be happy. I’ve got an incredible husband, friends, my parents and my siblings- I’ve got everything I could ever want or need but..I’m not happy. I’m sad… I’m fed up with everything. I really am.

The fresh air and the quiet is lovely. I really needed it. Being trapped in that sterile white room wasn’t doing me any favours. Maybe being alone to let my mind wander back to one the worst things that have happened wasn’t such a good idea in hindsight.

(Liam’s POV) I’ve just arrived back at the hospital after fetching a couple of Riley’s things. I would’ve been back sooner but I got caught up with something.

I just got out of the lift and now I’m walking down the corridor towards Riley’s room. I push open the door and my heart thumps as I see the empty bed.

Maybe she’s gone to the bathroom.

I'm proven wrong as I head further into the room and the door is laying wide open. I place the bag down onto the bed then head out of the room, I turn a corner and walk straight into someone.

I grab their shoulders to steady them. When I look down I realise It’s Karol and Michael just behind her.

“What’s wrong?” Michael asked me. I realise that I must not be doing a very good job at concealing my panic.

“Do you know where Riley is?”

Karol shook her head, “She’s not in her room?”

“No,” I said, wringing my hands together.

(Riley’s POV)

I’m not sure how long i’ve been out here now. I’m enjoying the peace and quiet, it's interrupted when my phone dings. I look down and see a text from my husband.

Liam: Are you okay? Where are you?

I quickly replied. I don’t need a search party to come looking for me.

Me: I’m outside in the garden. I’m fine. I just needed some fresh air.

Liam: are you sure you’re alright?

Me: Yes, I’m sure 👍

It was about twenty minutes later when Liam found me. I was glad that he’d left me alone for a while.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked as he took a seat beside me.

“I needed some air,” I said through a yawn. We sat in silence for a little bit until I decided that I wanted to head back in. We slowly headed over to the entrance together- i wasnt surprised that my parents were waiting there for us.

We had just gotten out of the elevator and now we’re walking down the obnoxiously white hospital corridor to my room when my arm starts to tingle.

Fuck.

I stop in my tracks and look around. Nobody else is here. My vision starts to go a little bit blurry.

Liam stopped walking and turned to me. “Are you alright?”

I don’t answer because I’m certain if I open my mouth I’ll puke.

(Liam's POV)

My heart sinks. It’s happening again.

“Riley?” I called but she didn't respond..

Her eyes dart around the hallway as she starts to sway back and forth on her feet. I briefly meet her gaze before she starts to try and stumble away from me. Not a second later she started gagging, I leapt forward to gather up her hair as she puked.

“Riley, love, are you going to have a seizure?” I asked. I knew by now I wasn’t going to be able to get a coherent response from her. Karol and Michael stop walking and come back over to us.

“Riley are you alright?” Michael asked. She looked sluggishly up at her dad.

“Yeah, I’m fline.” she insisted, but her slurred speech, her vomiting and her incoordination certainly was telling us otherwise.

“Why don’t we lay down?” Karol suggested as she stepped forward just as Riley staggered out of my hold.

Karol caught her before she could fall. “N-no,” She replied, “I’m glood.”

She tries to push her mother away from her but she’s too weak and uncoordinated to do so. Karol grabs her under the arms to steady her. “It’s okay, you’re okay but I think you need to lay down, Ri. Have a little rest.”

“I- I’m fine.”

She managed to squirm out of Karol’s grasp. Her knees buckled from under her, I wrapped my arms around her and safely lowered her onto the floor. “Okay. It’s okay, love, just relax. You’re alright.”

Once she was on the floor she continued to try and get up. Karol knelt down by her head and ran her fingers soothingly through her daughter’s hair. “It’s okay,” She whispered, “I need you to try and relax. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

“M-mom,” She slurred.

“I’m here. It’s okay.”

“Please make this stop,” she said through her tears. Karol was beginning to get a little bit upset at seeing her daughter, my wife, in such a state. “Please.”

“Okay,” she nodded through her tears. “It’s going to be okay.”

“P-promise you’ll make this stop. I can’t do this anymore,” she said. Her voice is slurred to the point her words are barely coherent.

“I promise,” Karol mumbled. Riley’s face fell blank and then she started to seize.

#my story #tw: sezuire #tw blood #the royal romance #trr #choices #trr liam #trr riley #king liam #riley brooks #liam x riley

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border-spam · 5 years

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Twins Prompt 8: Wolf in sheep’s clothing

Note - I am SUSTAINED by comments. If you like any of these prompts, or want to see more of a specific one, hit up the replies. That’s my motivational juice right there

You could feel Tyreen Calypso in the air before you saw or heard her, storming down the corridor towards the COV media department at 3AM, vile mood warping the atmosphere around her as she marched.

She rolled her eyes at the few acolytes up at this time as they scurried out of her way and down dimly lit side aisles as soon as they caught sight of her, wide eyed and terrified of finding out why exactly she was so pissed.

Another terrible night’s sleep, another handful of wasted hours sitting in the decadence of her personal ship, massive solid gold bed surrounded on all sides by statues and stained glass of her own image. Alone. Completely alone. Like always.

Tyreen could deal with it, she’d dealt with it her entire life so far, it was the norm, and it’s not like she needed the affection anyway right? She had literally billions of people in love with her. There was no one else in the universe as wanted as God Queen Calypso, she reminded herself, tired eyes squinting past the makeup that was smeared under them as her focus stayed unmoving on the door she rapidly approached.

The red “EDITING” sign above it flashed on, off, on off, confirming her target was inside.

There wasn’t a huge amount Tyreen found worked when this mood hit. She could sit and brood on her own, face the reality of her crippling loneliness and deal with some extremely uncomfortable truths, OR she could go find her twin. Troy always helped, one way or another.

Crying her eyes out in his tight hug? That helped.

Taking out her frustration and anger on the only other person in the galaxy who mattered? That.. helped too.

She stopped at the door and quickly ran her hands through her messy bed-hair, straightening up her mantle and hastily dressed belts. Deep breath in, deep breath out, then she rolled her shoulders, stood tall and regal, opened the door with a press of the wall mounted button, and stepped confidently into the dark room.

…. to find Troy asleep instead of working.

He was out cold, quietly snoring into the crook of his flesh arm as he hunched over the massive desk he usually edited from, his array of flickering screens laid out above and around him lighting his shape in the dark.

The small editing team who worked directly with the God King paused in silence at their desks as she entered, eyes flicking nervously from each other, to their sleeping lord, to the clearly enraged Queen standing in the doorway.

He was asleep. He was meant to be editing that last stream for release in the morning. She felt her jaw tighten as she stomped towards him, seething. He was asleep while she was having such a shitty night and needed his help, the lazy, good for nothing asshole.

She raised a leg and stomped violently at the side of his chair with a studded boot, jolting him awake with a shock as he lurched to the side and fumbled with the headphones that had slipped across an eye, tripping a little over the chair legs as he clambered to his full height and towered over his furious twin.

“Ty- Tyreen.. what are you doing here?” he muttered, side eyeing his team who were doing their best to not make eye contact, typing furiously now in an attempt to not be paying attention to what was about to be a total scene.

She felt her anger begin to bubble over. He looked embarrassed, he looked like he didn’t want this to happen in front of his team, and somehow that made it all the better to do it, made it feel so much better to let her mouth start running.

“Ohhh just checking up on you, Holy Father. How’s the editing coming along? Very important release due tomorrow morning riiight?” She mocked, picking at her nails like this was the most mundane thing in the world, as her twin fidgeted awkwardly in front of her.

“Interesting to see you take your duties this seriously, while I work my ass off creating the content for you to butcher. Or not even bother to work on at all it seems?” she singsonged loudly at him, patronising grin widening as she caught the concerned glance from one of his editors from the corner of her eye.

His expression darkened, blush fading to pale skin, and she knew this was a bad idea now. She knew she should stop… but it felt too good to see him squirm like this, be berated and vulnerable in front of the others. She had had a terrible night and he’d been laying here enjoying himself, he deserved to be embarrassed by her like this. He deserved it.

“..Ty, can we not do this here. I’m sorry, I was exhausted, I couldn’t keep awa-”

“HAH!”

She barked, interrupting his quiet, calm tone.

“Allllways sorry Troy. Not good enough, get this shit done.” She hissed, pointing a finger into the solid line of his sternum, ignoring the ice in his eyes as she squinted up into them, ignoring the tight line of his mouth. His slow, controlled breathing.

“This was meant to be uploaded and queued an hour ago and you’ve fucked it up as usual haven’t you. Do I have to do everything little brother??” She shrieked up into his face, slamming her hand down on his desk and causing his crew to jump in their seats.

“Fucking pathetic, you have one job Troy. One, and you can’t even do it. You’re a joke.” She finished with a scowl. Spinning on her heel with a self satisfied smirk, Tyreen turned and began to strut out of the room, completely aware of the other God’s cold blue eyes burning into her back, knowing that she had gone too far, that she had pushed that way past where she should have in front of staff, but it had helped. It had helped her so much, and her Twin’s embarrassment felt more than worth it.

Troy stood in silence, still staring at the door she had left through, eyes narrowed in controlled rage. His editing team continued to work, refusing to acknowledge that their God had just been shamed in front of them, brought low and mocked by his sister.

They’d seen this happen before, saw what had happened after. A newer member of the team, some cocky Promethean kid, had laughed under his breath when Tyreen was done and had left Troy glaring at his monitors in silence.

Troy had turned, locked eyes with the kid, beckoned him over with a curl of a long finger, and crushed every bone in both of the little shit’s hands in the grip of his prosthetic fist. They’d never seen that idiot again, but they knew for all his snapping fury, God King Troy was not cruel like his sister. He’d not take his rage out on them as long as they didn’t prompt him to, and a shaking sigh of relief echoed through the room as he stalked towards the doorway like a predatory animal and left to track after his sister.

As Tyreen reached her private Sanctum and waited for the scanner to grant her entry, the burning anger and sadness in her stomach slowly faded, only to be replaced with gnawing worry as she entered.

It.. wasn’t the first time this had happened. He’d warned her before, he’d warned her very seriously to not make a scene in front of followers again, that it damaged the reputation he carefully cultivated for them..

And sure enough, she heard the door open behind her, and the heavy footfalls of his boots as he entered.

“Hey, Tyreen.”

She turned to face him, clearing her expression of guilt and facing her twin with an air of relaxation, only to second guess how this was about to go down as she took him in.

He stood calmly, massive frame held loose, flesh palm held gently in the cup of his mechanical fist, looking down his nose at his much smaller sister.

“..Troy.” She greeted. Voice betraying her in a nervous crack.

“.. Look I’m so-”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” he whispered, cutting her off with only the barest of effort, controlled tone emphasising each word.

Completely in control of what was about to happen, exactly like she knew he would be. He was so much better at this than she was.

She dropped her eyes to his boots and waited for him to continue. God she shouldn’t have gone as far as she had.

“Tell me Ty-die, what’s your business strat for this upcoming financial quarter?”

She winced. Here we go. He was always better with words, ever since they were kids. Never needed to raise a hand to you to flay you to the bone.

Could do that effortlessly with a silver tongue and gold capped fangs.

“Who’ve you got in line for the next group of sponsorship deals? Give me the rundown of the numbers. What profit margins are you expecting, what losses, sis?” He piqued, leaning his weight to one hip, tilting his head to glare down at her.

“Troy.. look, point made, I’m sorry I shouldn’t ha-”

“Excuse me, did I say I was FINISHED?“ He bellowed, causing her to jump as he took another step towards her, slowly leaning down to lower that vicious mouth closer to her ear.

“Hows that legal dispute over the DeLeon copyright claim goin? That one I’ve been spearheading for 7 years now under your nose, you know, that one? Oh..you don’t? Hmmm…”

Slowly beginning to circle her, still hissing questions she could barely even understand the terminology of at her.

“Hows our growth targeting going, God Queen? What you got for the shareholders this month end? What you got planned for that? How’s the SnV-merger going, Tyreen?“

She shook her head and raised a hand to her temple, rubbing it delicately as she sighed. “I don’t.. know, Troy, I’m sorry! I get it, I get it, I shouldn’t have done that in front of your team.”

He stopped at her left, sneering down at her in disgust.

“No, you shouldn’t have. But you love acting big around me don’t you Ty, love making it seem like you’re in charge when you’re feeling down and want to shit on me for a while, huh.”

He was right. It had made her feel so much better for a short while, but she should have just come to him privately. She should have put her arms around his waist and cried, and he would have been there for her, but she had lashed out instead, and he was right to be pissed now.

“Maybe I’ll do your job for a while and take a break from mine, hmm? Maybe I’ll go on camera and squeeze my lil tits together and drone braindead bullshit at morons while you run the entire fucking cult, huh? Would you like that Ty?”

“… Would you like everyone to see how fucking stupid the God Queen is when you don’t have me playing you like a puppet and getting none of the credit?”

She just stayed silent now, waiting for him to be done, no real way to defend herself against his knife blade truths, watching him turn and begin to stalk slowly towards her doorway before pausing at it, resting his monstrous arm on the frame and looking over his shoulder to consider his defeated sister.

“You’d do well to remember who made you Tyreen. Who runs this entire shit-show so you can play at being a God. I don’t get anything out of this bullshit.. lie.. bar easy access to a warm hole when I want a good fuck. Sorry you don’t have that option.. I really am…”

She felt her stomach cramp as he turned to open the door and step through it.

“.. Just remember who I’m exhausting myself for next time you find me asleep.”

The door shut behind him.

#troy calypso #tyreen calypso #calypso twins #my hcs #my writing #borderlands 3 #borderlands #bl3

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noxxy-boxxy · 4 years

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Hetabang time!

So, it’s finally te time to upload this! I’ve been waiting for this moment lmao

I wrote this and my amazing partner did a drawing of the last scene, but they haven’t posted it yet so imma wait till they do and tag them!

Edit: Here is the artwork!

https://aph-florida-shitposts.tumblr.com/post/616694960857710592/they-my-peice-for-the-hetabang-art-thing It’s made by @aph-florida-shitposts The artis amazing and everyone should go and check it out, period.

The meeting ended sooner that day. Thank God.

Gilbert grabbed his laptop and his briefcase, stretching his neck until it popped. It was Friday, finally, and that meant a lot of things. It meant beer, a nice dinner, some of that leftover cake, and the best part:

"Gilbert! Buongiorno!"

He could invite him for dinner. He could finally invite Italy for dinner and ask him that thing.

"Hey, little Italy! Guten morgen!" He smiled, his heart almost doing a cartwheel when Feliciano kissed his cheeks. "What are you doing here? You're going to miss your flight." Even after saying that, Feliciano sat on the table, and Gilbert did the same, not interested If he missed his own.

"I was looking for you." Said the Italian, and God, if he didn't die at that moment, he really had to be a tough one. His pale face took a very slight shade of pink, invisible to Italy.

"Oh, so you were searching for me?" Gilbert said, his speech still perfect, his tone normal, but his face warming. Slow but steady.

"Yes, I wanted to ask you something." Gilbert arched an eyebrow, blinking once or twice.

«Keep it cool.» He thought, panicking internally. "Oh, yeah, whatever you want, little Italy. I'm all ears." And, to be honest, he didn't expect that much, but surely he didn't see that one coming.

"Can you help me with my paperwork?"

Oh God, Italy was lucky he liked him. He wouldn't waste his weekend explaining paperwork to anybody, but him. He was the only exception.

But now, he surely was going to be talking about boring numbers, when they could be having a delicious dinner and a delicious dessert. Amazing.

Unless.

"Come with me. We can stay together at my house and I can explain to you how I do my paperwork." He smiled, petting the Italian's head. "Then, we can have dinner together. I'll make some homemade pasta for you and we can have cake at the end." And that was the exact way to convince Italy. Gilbert smiled softly, seeing Italy jump from one place to another while he sang some song. "Okay, okay. Chill, Kleine. Don't hurt yourself." Italy stopped and grabbed his hand, tangling his fingers with his own.

"I would love that, Gilbert!" He smiled widely, so beautifully. "Oh, Gil, you're red. Is something wrong?"

"Uh, nothing..."

They were kneading the dough, and Gilbert was amazed at the way Italy did it. His movements were perfectly fluent, his voice hummed a soft song, his eyes half-open. He stopped for a second, pinching the dough slightly.

"It's ready to stretch and cut." Prussia nodded, and then, they began to stretch the dough, making it thinner. Over, and over, and over again, until Feliciano felt like it was perfect. Then, they passed it through the cutter, making perfect spaghetti.

"Perfect." Said Prussia, bringing a tray with flour. "It's ready to cook." Italy nodded, looking incredibly happy. They both went to the kitchen, where the water in the pot was already boiling. Italy added some salt, and then, the pasta.

"It should be ready in two or three minutes. Could you check the sauce?" Gilbert nodded, and went to another pot, opening it and grabbing some sauce with a spoon. He tasted it, the flavor lingering in his mouth. It was absolutely...

"Delicious." He said, smiling widely. "It's delicious." Feliciano smiled, looking at him, small little face so adorable. He wanted to take a picture, no jokes. Gilbert covered the pot, seeing how his hand trembled, feeling his throat tightening. «Everything is going to be okay.» He had to say to himself.

And he really hoped it would be.

"Well, I think it's ready to drain." He nodded, getting closer. Italy was holding a fork, where one string of pasta sat. "Could you taste it, Gil?" And he extended his hand, offering him not the fork, but the food. He had to stop a second, trying to gain control of his face, to avoid that God damned red. He got even closer, eating the spaghetti from his hand.

"It's ready." He said, tasting it. It had the right amount of salt, and it wasn't incredibly soft, but a little bit chewy. It was perfect.

Italy drained it and put it in the same pot with the sauce. he moved it around with a pair of tweezers, and then, it was perfectly ready to eat.

"Let's go. I'm hungry." Italy smiled, grabbing a bottle of wine and a bottle of beer. Prussia nodded, grabbing the pot.

"So, did you understand that thing about your paperwork?" Italy nodded, smiling and grabbing his glass of wine.

"Yes, thanks." He smiled, taking a sip of wine. "You're a very good teacher, Gil."

"Oh, ask West or America, they'll probably have something else to say." He laughed. "I am a good teacher, indeed," he started, grabbing his bottle. "but I am not going soft on anyone. You're just a special case. Usually, I would be more strict and rude with any other. Only for you." And Gilbert smiled softly, booping the Italian's nose, making him laugh.

"I like you a lot, Gil!" He smiled, and Gilbert definitely felt something jump in his chest.

"Ah, yea, ja." He mumbled, looking away. "Actually, little Italy... Feliciano" He whispered, taking a big breath. "I like you too. I like you a lot." And Italy didn't even flinch.

"Yeah! Me too, Gil! You're an amazing friend!" Oh, no.

"No, dearest. I mean, uh, I like you, like, more than a friend. I like you a lot more."

"Like a best friend, then! You're my best friend!" And Gilbert rolled his eyes, but Italy kept talking before he could explain himself. "I wouldn't change you as my best friend for anything in the world! You'll always be the best friend I could ever have, and I hope nothing ruins our friendship!" For God's sake, Gilbert thought, almost speaking again.

Unless...

"You... Wouldn't want me to be anything more than... Your best friend? Only... That?" He said, his voice normal, but something was cracking. "Not even-"

"Always friends!" Italy interrupted him.

Then, he understood. Italy was understanding what he really wanted to say, but he surely didn't want to reject him. He just wanted him to... Catch the cue. He only wanted him as a friend.

He only wanted him as a friend.

"O-oh, yeah. Always... F-friends." He whispered, forcing that painful sensation at the back of his throat. Not yet. "I should take you to the airport so you can go back, Italy. You're going to miss your flight." He said, getting up and grabbing his keys and his helmet. He went to the garage, putting the key at the contact on his motorcycle. "Move, Italy! We don't have all the time in the world!" His words sounded a lot ruder and mean, like if he was tired or angry. Obviously, Italy got scared, and just followed the orders. The garage door opened with the controller, and they went out. Suddenly, Italy had to hold himself again Gilbert, because hell, they were going 100 kph, and it was just rising. They arrived at the airport in 3 minutes, when usually it would take 15.

"Let’s go." And as soon as they were on the ground they were running. Or well, he was almost running. Gilbert was just walking. Incredibly quickly. Gilbert had to buy the tickets for him because obviously, the people spoke German.

"Here. Have this." Italy grabbed the tickets with one hand, while he grabbed his document and passport from his briefcase with the other.

"Is everything alright, Gil?" He literally had to take a step back when Prussia looked at him. His eyes were glowing.

"I don't allow my own brother to call me by my name, Italy. You don't have that privilege either." He deadpanned.

But... Italy wasn't dumb. At least, not when it came to feelings. Even if Prussia was "angry", he saw sadness. In his face, those eyes were not glowing, they were shining.

"Gilbert..." He whispered, trying to put a hand on his shoulder, but at that second, his flight was announced. Prussia didn't even say goodbye, he just left.

His eyes were shining, yes. And he swore, he saw a tear leaving his left eye.

«Is he sad?"

Gilbert went back to his house calmly. He entered and started washing the dishes. The leftover spaghetti was poured in a container and stored in the fridge, with the forgotten cake. Then, he went to the table, grabbing his bottle of beer. It was half full, but in a second, he drank the rest. The wine was stored in the fridge, and the glass... He literally spent half an hour looking at it, trying to go back in time, when he bought that glassware, the moment when he grabbed it from the counter, just some hours ago. That moment, when they were still friends.

His knuckles turned white, and in a quick movement, he threw the glass against the floor, turning it to just useless shards. Panting, he kneeled at its side, slowly picking up the pieces, just hissing when one of them cut his finger.

Wine stung, but the tears falling were even more painful.

The meeting was in Berlin that day. Ironically.

"He didn't come today..." Whispered Italy, looking at the German's seat, unoccupied. In his place, Germany entered, even when he was, technically, on vacation. Apparently, though, he was not there for the meeting, because he wore just civilian clothes.

"Italy." He said, looking at him. "Can we talk? Please?" Italy nodded, concerned. He looked slightly sad but he looked mad too. Something surely had to be going around the Germanic countries. "What happened last Sunday, Italy? When I came back, Prussia was devastated. And I mean, really, sad."

"I knew he was sad. We were just talking, and in a second he was suddenly really mad but really sad. I swear I saw him crying."

"What were you two talking about? Do you remember what you said or what he said the moment when he changed?"

"We were talking about our friendship! I told him I liked him, and he told me he liked me too, but, like, more than a friend! Then I thought, well he wants to be my best friend, and then it went down really quick and he was like that in a second."

Germany observed him for a second, and then he arched an eyebrow.

I mean. He thought he was the clueless one, but even he would have understood that.

"So. Let's set things clear. You said something like 'I like you', then he said 'I like you too.' Then you started talking about friends, but he said 'I like you more than a friend.' Then you started talking about best friends. Then, he was suddenly angry. Is that what happened?”

"¡Si Capitano!" Said Italy, smiling widely. And oh God, he thought he was the clueless one.

"Italy, my dear friend." He started, taking a deep breath. He needed France. "Let's say, a man and a woman are together. And he says 'I like you more than a friend.' What would you think he's meaning?"

"He loves her!" Italy said, smiling. And he smiled and smiled until he didn't. "He... He loves... Her." Slowly, he whispered.

"And what if he does things for her he wouldn't do in normal situations? Like, cooking for her, or allowing her to call him by his name, or taking the time to explain to her something slowly, when everyone would say he's a devil when he's teaching. Or calling her with endearments, when he doesn't do that. What would you think? Does he want to be her friend?" And Italy slowly came into realization.

"Oh my God, I messed it up. I ruined everything. I wasted his time. I fell really low. I-" And Germany had to touch his arm, to prevent him from missing the line. "I have to go and talk to him." And he almost ran away, just in the for Ludwig to grab him and bring him back.

"Do you have any idea of what you’re going to say, at least?" Italy arched his eyebrow, opening his mouth, but Ludwig spoke first. "He liked you even when we were dating, but he never said anything. He liked you since the beginning. And I can't risk you going there and messing it up even more because I haven't seen him this sad since 1945. He doesn't deserve so much pain, and I won't let you go there unless you know exactly what to say." He took a deep breath. "Do you like him? Not like a friend. Not like a best friend." And Italy, slowly, nodded, making him smile. "Give me a pen. I have to give you the address. He's not in Berlin, so you'll have to go now unless you want to miss the train that goes to Hamburg." Italy grabbed a pen, and Germany didn't even waste time on paper, writing it directly onto his skin. "Do you understand it?" Italy nodded, and flew, running to the train station, buying a ticket to Hamburg, and getting on the train in record time. He just hoped that there was still time for him.

He made it to Hamburg, and then, he started going around, trying to remember each street. He reached a big building of apartments and looked at the key in his hand. The door opened, incredibly, and then he started walking, trying to reach the apartment number 19. The door made a little sound when unlocked, and then he went in.

«It has to be Ludwig's private department.» He thought to himself. Some books were easy to recognize for him because he saw them in his library. A jacket was on the sofa, he recognized it as Gilbert's. And there was a bed for a dog on the floor.

He walked to the bedroom, and entered, finding him sleeping peacefully.

«He's here...» He thought, slowly getting closer to him. He sat down on the bed, and at that moment, he woke up.

"What the fuck, Italy?" He almost screamed, going back. "What are you doing here? Get out!" Now he was screaming.

"No!" Italy responded, but Gilbert didn't listen. He grabbed his arm, dragging him to the door, without paying attention to anything he would say. And when they were almost out, he stopped for a second.

"What did you said?"

"I'm sorry," Italy whispered, squirming in his place. "Prussia, my hand hurts..." And he left him to go. He dragged some tears left In his eyes, saying that again. "I'm sorry. I didn't know, I didn't understand at that moment. Please, forgive me." And his face was suddenly red, his eyes shiny again.

"It's not fair, I try to get out, and you drag me back, you probably don't even mean what I think you're meaning. And I thought West was bad when it came to feelings." Italy grabbed his hand, pressing it.

"I like you too." He said, feeling Prussia's hand tremble. "I like you. Not like a friend. Not like a best friend. I like you a lot. I just thought you weren't meaning it like that, or I was just a little tipsy and I wasn't thinking, but I'm sorry. For making you cry and for hurting you." And when he looked at his face, he was crying. "I'm sorry..." He whispered one last time, slowly touching his nose, and kissing him.

It was something slow. Almost as if he was afraid of scaring him. He was suddenly so weak, so small. For a second he was a child again.

His hands just hung at his sides at the beginning, but then he slid them, right to his shoulders. They separated, looking at each other for a second. Then, Gilbert spoke.

"I like you, Feliciano."

"Me too, Prussia." Italy smiled.

"Call me by my name. Please." But Italy didn't, because, of course, he had to kiss him again.

#hetabang #hetabang 2020 #aph italy #aph prussia #aph germany #pruita #smol writes #smol escribe #hws italy #hws prussia #hws germany

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ladyplantpots · 5 years

Text

Fresh from discord and edited to read better, an AU where Hizashi runs a hair-styling YouTube account, and Shouta comes across it whilst looking up how to braid his adopted daughter Eri’s hair.

Shouta needs to braid Eri’s hair, because dammit she deserves pretty hair and a competent dad able to provide her with cute styles. He scours the internet for videos to follow along, as he’s a hands-on learner, but finds them all dull and confusing. Then he comes across a video from a man who practically yells a welcoming introduction before passionately explaining exactly how to do a simple braid. The man, who calls himself Hizashi, is upbeat, loud, and easy to follow. The ultimate opposite of Shouta, he thinks, but his instructions to braid hair are just so easy to understand, and Hizashi is so damn HAPPY as he braids his own soft and golden hair for the camera. Shouta soon successfully braids Eri’s hair, and her smile is blinding. And then he sees another one of Hizashi’s videos preparing to load. He should DEFINITELY turn it off now. He ends up watching all his videos. The man, Hizashi, is everything Shouta is not. Bright, funny, likeable, confident, and his long blond hair flows all the way down his back at the start of each video, before he decorates it with flowers, or braids it, or sticks it in buns - he always looks so goddamn flawless. Shouta has never been so damn enamoured, and especially with someone so utterly unobtainable. A month after he first finds the channel, he gets drunk with Kayama. Kayama teases him on his obvious crush, and Shouta is annoyed as hell. He doesn’t get crushes. He has no time for them. And anyway, those videos aren’t even hard. He could do his own hair like any of Hizashi’s styles easily. The night slips away in a blur. What he wakes up to the next day, is a disaster. His hair is a gross mess, he has a killer hangover, and whats that on YouTube? A video of him, filmed by Kayama, drunk, and he’s glaring into the camera and slurring shit like 'stupid hot blonde perfect hair Hizashi, i bet he cant do this with VODKA' as he attempts to knot his own hair into a plait. It’s already went viral as ‘Drunk Guy Destroys Own Hair and Cusses Out Top Beauty Vlogger’ before he can even delete it. Shouta is mortified, and hopes for death. Hizashi has uploaded a new video the very next day. 'I Make Perfect Fishtail Braids Whilst Drunk!' Shouta is mad and definitely not panicking that Hizashi saw his video. Why would he even respond? Was he annoyed? Upset? Did he think Shouta was a total and utter idiot? Hizashi at the end of his video says something along the lines of 'Wow! I guess I CAN do perfect hair with vodka,' and signs off, but not before enthusiastically giving a wink to the camera. Shouta, damn it all, is smitten. Against his better judgement, Shouta uploads another video the next week. He’s gained a mass of followers despite deleting his first and only video, but he refuses to acknowledge them. He doesn’t need this dumb attention. He just needs to prove he ISN’T a drunk moron, and set the record straight. But that new video he uploads, his second ever one, is kind of just.... A rant. And he isn't drunk, but he is extremely, extremely tired after the longest day, and he'd just watched another video of sunshiney Hizashi just being lovely and jolly and perfect. So, Shouta borrows Kayama’s camera, and makes a video. The video shows him surrounded by coffee mugs, and his daughter Eri is in bed so his voice isn't loud, just, annoyed, but, it's all kind of... Hilarious? He has no set plan. He just complains about, 'Stupid sunshine people with stupid hair that isn't THAT pretty dammit and why cant sunshine people be NORMAL and hate life with everyone else?' It lasts 10 minutes, five of which is just Shouta trying not to fall asleep, and some of his hair dips into his coffee when he tries to take a drink just before the video ends. It, again, goes viral, because Shouta is a tired mess and makes zero sense, and the next day Hizashi uploads a new video. 'Doing your hair for non-sunshine folk. A normal boring guide.' In the video, Hizashi greets everyone in a flat, monotone voice, and he's wearing a stark black wig. His happy comments and general fun spark is replaced by thickly manufactured doom-and-gloom, his fingernails painted black and his clothes plain and dull. He then does a perfect set of space buns in the black wig, all whilst giving instructions in a complete and utterly boring drone. At the end of the video, he holds up a coffee cup, and in same unvarying pitch, says 'and remember. Coffee is bad for hair.' before breaking into the biggest, brightest laugh, and giving a cheeky wink. Shouta doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. And so, Shouta rants again. And Hizashi replies in a timely and fun manner. Shouta tries not to pay attention to the weirdly large following he has gathered, which for some unknown reason has opted to refer to themselves as ‘SleepyHeads’. Hizashi’s own following calls themselves ‘SunRays’. Shouta thinks it’s all completely ridiculous. After almost a solid two months of this back-and-forth via teasing and odd videos, Shouta finds an email in his inbox. No prizes for guessing who from. Hizashi is just as sweet in email as he is in video, and just as witty. Shouta’s crush couldn’t be bigger if he tried. But, the email asks something of Shouta that makes his heart stop. Hizashi asks to do a collab video, in which Hizashi styles his hair for him. Shouta should say no. This is getting way too out of hand, and it won’t help his dumb crush, and it’s just ridiculous to even consider it. Three days later, he’s awkwardly stood in front of Hizashi’s apartment. And Hizashi? Yup, more beautiful in person than Shouta thought possible, dressed in a cosy mustard-yellow turtleneck, and his hair cascading past his shoulders as his wide grin warmly welcomes Shouta inside. And Shouta, he’s certainly made an effort to be more presentable - he’s wearing his favourite jacket, though it does have a cat face drawn on the front pocket in black marker by Eri, and he’s washed his hair in the most expensive conditioner he could find, in hopes Hizashi doesn’t cringe doing his hair. There’s not much conversation before the video, Hizashi just gives him the basics of what he wants to happen before pushing Shouta towards his scarily professional setup, in front of an expensive-looking camera. Hizashi is like a precise whirlwind, knowing exactly what to hit next, and soon enough, Shouta is sat in a comfortable high seat, stony-faced and definitely not freaking out as Hizashi leans down and chuckles in his ear, ‘Oh yeah, by the way, we’re doing this show LIVE baby!’ Shouta has no time to object before Hizashi hits a button, and falls into his usual opening spiel. And Shouta? He’s ready to die. Its going to be him, sitting there, live, as Hizashi hates on his gross nasty hair and laughs about what an idiot he was in his videos. He wishes he had never come, he is SUCH an absolute fool, but then he feels a hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his own head, and there’s Hizashi, smiling softly down at him. ‘Don’t look scared, this will be fun!’ And then, Hizashi is perched behind Shouta, at an angle that the camera can still see him too. Shouta tries not to look at the monitor in front of him, which shows exactly what the camera sees as hundreds of comments fly by. Suddenly, there’s a brush going through Shouta’s hair, and Hizashi talks as if they’ve done this for years. ‘Now, my dear viewers, this is the infamous Aizawa Shouta, or Vodka King to his SleepyHead fans!’ Shouta cringes, but Hizashi just continues. ‘I have to admit, his first video shocked me! But I mean, who wouldn’t be shocked by such a handsome man not only challenging me, but ruining his own fantastic locks too!’ Shouta freezes, and he wonders if Hizashi notices. Handsome? He thinks Shouta is handsome? He must be joking. But Hizashi continues, loudly and happily, as he brushes Shouta’s hair and reaches for some bobby pins. ‘Doing my own Vodka Hair Challenge was the most fun I’d had in a long time! Though of course, no alcohol if you’re not old like me!’ Hizashi tuts at the camera, quickly pulling his hand away from Shouta’s hair to waggle it at the screen. ‘Anyway! I am just so so lucky to have this hilarious man here, and I can only hope to do justice to all of this gorgeous thick hair! I’m thinking a cute crown plait, and some red flower clips to keep it all in place, because viewers, it would be a CRIME to cover this gorgeous face!’ Shouta’s cheeks are burning. This is not what he expected. But, they’re live, he has to keep his cool, he can’t be dragged along at this loud idiot’s pace or he’ll have a meltdown there and then. So he drily says, ‘The only crime occurring here is the annihilation of my ear drums. You are WAY louder in person.’ Hizashi pauses his brush, and Shouta thinks ‘oh God no I fucked it all up’, before Hizashi is releasing the heartiest laugh Shouta’s ever heard. It’s as if the room moves with him, and Shouta wonders what he wouldn’t give to hear it again. He hopes nobody has picked up the pinkness of his own cheeks. Hizashi’s camera cant be THAT good. From there, Hizashi just talks to Shouta and occasionally the viewers as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, and Shouta quickly finds himself doing the same. Talking to Hizashi is surprisingly easy, and damn it all he’s actually laughing with the man over literally nothing. And then his hair is done. ‘Ta-da!’ Shouta stares at his reflection in the hand-mirror Hizashi hands him. He’s done a good job. A fantastic job. Shouta’s hair is sweeping up into a braid that crowns his head, little bits of hair artfully poking out, staying true to his naturally curly ‘do, and cute red flowers adorn the style - all different shapes and sizes. ‘A beautiful mess’ comes to mind, and Shouta can’t help but feel he doesn’t actually deserve to have hair so nice. Hizashi is silent for once, the camera still rolling, and he’s looking right at Shouta, for the first time looking vulnerable, before he quietly says, ‘Do... You like it?’ And Shouta bits his lip, lowering the mirror, before sighing and genuinely smiling, his expression warm. In that moment, he KNOWS he doesn’t want this man to leave his life, and it’s scary, and it’s illogical, and it’s thrilling. Hizashi’s face is the one that goes red this time, as Shouta speaks up in an undeniably admiring and genuine tone, ‘It’s absolutely and utterly perfect, you wretched sunshine man.’

#erasermic #lctalks

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linoloverimagines · 5 years

Text

BURN PART 2 YOONGI X READER (FT. TAEHYUNG

BURN PART 2 YOONGI X READER (ft. Taehyung) I wasn’t planning on making a sequel, but since some of you wanted it, here it is!! Sorry if it isn’t that good hehe. I really didn’t know what I was going with this. Thank you for all of your feedback! I’m really grateful!!

You were sobbing on your best friend Jennie’s couch as you tried to explain what just happened in Yoongi’s apartment.

“That bastard!” She exclaimed

“I came as soon as I heard!” You heard Lisa open the door to immediately run up to you

“I don’t have to explain eve-ever-rything again, r-ri-ight?” You stuttered from all of the crying

“No, no sweetie..” Jennie gently patted your head

“Y’know what? We’re going to disrupt their little get together and make Min Yoongi regret he ever did this to you!” Jennie fumed out

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about the tabloid articles, Y/N....we knew you had an emergency back in your country and we didn’t want to add to your problems.” Lisa interrupted

“It’s okay, I understand... I’m just thankful that you guys are here” you gave them a weak smile

“And Jennie, I’m not coming back there until I feel like I’m ready to talk.”

“Well you can stay here for as long as you’d like.” Said Jennie

“It’s a good thing you already had your suitcase ready huh?” Lisa joked

Jennie glared at her, but the three of you just laughed it off.

————————— You were about to go to sleep in Jennie’s guest room, until suddenly your phone began buzzing. Half of you hoped that it was Yoongi trying to make amends and beg for your forgiveness

But half of you wished that it wasn’t, because you didn’t know if you could take seeing his name and a half-assed apology.

It was Taehyung.

Tae [1:00 am]: y/n.... are you awake?

Another message pops up

Tae [1:01 am]: Y/n-ieeeeee

You replied coldy.

You knew Yoongi was his bandmate and friend, but he was yours too, why did he let it go so far without even saying anything to you.

You [1:02 am]: what?

Tae [1:03 am]: I’m sorry we didn’t say anything about the plan.... we knew you wouldn’t agree with it, I’m sorry

You [1:03]: there are literally four members of their group and seven of you, why did it have to Yoongi??? Most of you are single!

Tae [1:04]: ....people were already shipping them online, so we thought we would just go with

You stopped replying, you didn’t really care of that explanation, it was mediocre at best. What did he think was going to happen if he explained? You were just going to forgive Yoongi?

You rolled your eyes

Tae [1:10]: I know you’re still mad….but can we meet? Not just me, but the whole group.

You [1:11]: What for? And why are you trying to defend him anyway?

Taehyung started typing his message his message

We all want to apologize, we feel really bad. We all took place in the decision-making and seeing you walk through your apartment doors looking like a ghost made my heart….

He backspaced and edited the message before pressing send

Tae [1:11]: We all want to apologize, we feel really bad. We all took place in the decision-making and seeing you walk through your apartment doors looking like a ghost made our hearts hurt.

You [1:12]: Well then feel bad.

You put your phone on silent mode and tucked yourself into bed. So what if they felt horrible? You felt absolutely hurt and you were not in the mood for forgiving

Days have passed by and you got even more heartbroken when Yoongi didn’t even try to contact you in any way. You didn’t receive any news from him and Taehyung stopped filling up your inbox after a while.

“I guess, it’s really over between me and Yoongi….” You sighed and laid your head on Jennie’s lap

“I thought he would fight for you more.” Lisa stated as she passed you the bottle of Soju

“Lisa, stop giving her alcohol, our little miss HR is gonna be a wreck at work tomorrow…you are going back to work tomorrow right?” Jennie looked down on you You sat up “Yes, probably? Maybe? They’re all going to be there and God, it will be the end of me.”

“I thought he would do better too, Lis. Stopping me in the hallway while grabbing my wrist? Really? That was the best that he could do after everything we both we’ve been through?” You frustratingly added

“Well, why not just quit??” Lisa suggested

“Yeah, like finding a job that pays like they do in Seoul is so easy.” You sarcastically replied

“Well, they’re going to fire you anyway if you wont turn up for work.”

“Shut up, Jen” You pouted

She was telling the truth. Y ou needed to build up the courage to go back to work or else you’ll be heart broken and broke at the same time.

While you were having your girl’s night in Jennie’s place, your ex-boyfriend was also hanging out with his bandmates to contemplate on what to do.

“You’re really not going to do anything about it, hyung?” Jimin said disappointingly as he passed the shot glass to Jungkook

“I heard she hasn’t been reporting to work, she might lose her job too. Why don’t you talk to her?” Hoseok tugged Yoongi’s shoulder

“Look! I’m still thinking, okay? I love her! God knows I love her and I want to win her back, but….my career and you guys are on the line too.” Yoong sighed in response

“Please, don’t make us as an excuse to continue on this thing you have with Joy….just say you want to continue boning her and go” Taehyung drunkenly slurred

“What the fuck? We’re not fucking! We’re not doing anything! This fake relationship is for our group!” Yoongi angrily replied

“Whatever, you didn’t even flinch when RM suggested the idea. You didn’t even chase Y/N when she left….You stupid fuck” Taehyung got up

“Woah woah woah, where is all of this coming from” Namjoon pulled Taehyung back to his seat

“Remember when I told you I liked her hyung, but she seemed really disinterested in me and I got sad so you, Kookie, and I had drinks that night. Then you confessed that you both have been talking to each other and it fucking hurt, but I still let you have her because I knew she was going to be happy with you but then you do this bullshit!”

Taehyung stood up and grabbed Yoongi by the collar

“I love YN more than anything in this life, and I would choose her happiness over mine anytime. Forget this stupid collaboration, I’m standing by her side…You will never be satisfied. GOD, I HOPE YOU’RE SATISFIED” He pushed Yoongi down

Yoongi got up

“Oh fuck off! Let me have her? She wasn’t even yours to begin with! She loves me and I love her! But why can’t your stupid little brain understand that there is more at stake here?! Do you really think this wont affect our group negatively? I trying to fucking think here, man! I want her back but I don’t want to jeopardize our hard work!” Yoongi angrily screamed

“You think this thing is a fucking scandal? Who the fuck cares if you’re not really dating someone from red velvet? It’s not like you’re dealing drugs, fuck man. Dating scandals don’t last and for a producer, you sure do put more confidence in the advertising of our music compared to our actual songs.” Taehyung replied

“You know what? Fuck you. I’m done with your shit, it’s not fucking hard to decide.” Taehyung got up and walked away.

Yoongi paused and got out his phone, he was about to text you, but he hesitated. He put it back in his pocket and sighed deeply

Lisa [6:00 am]: Y/N!!! CHECK YOONGI’S V-LIVE NOW!!! COME ON!!

You [6:01 am]: It’s 6:00 am what the fuck???

Lisa [6:01 am]: PLEASE!!! JUST GOOOO!!!

You groaned, but you followed what she said anyway.

“Ah, hello…Y/N. I hope you’re watching as I confess to the whole world how much I love you. I’ve been stupid……I let a marketing strategy get in the way of us. In the long run, album sales or streams wont matter if I can’t share my success with you. With music, I may never have an end-goal. But with you…well….you are the end-goal” Yoongi looked pale, tired, and thinner than when you last saw him.

“I don’t care if I get criticized for this, because I love you Y/N Y/L/N and I don’t care if the world knows! I will probably get hate, but what do they know about us? And for my fans and red velvet’s fans, I’m sorry but what I had with Joy was all a marketing strategy, it wasn’t real.

"Y/N….if you can find it in your heart to at least talk to me one last time, I know I haven’t been trying to connect with you, but the process of getting here was really hard and-“ His tears started staining his porcelain face

“Please…just please? It took me a while to realize what I really wanted and what really is important. Other people also had to make things clear to me, but I’m only human Y/N….but I’ll try be better for you, so please.” He sobbed

You paused the video and began sobbing as well.

Yoongi barely let his emotions out to you, let alone the public. He looked so vulnerable and in pain, you couldn’t believe he would expose himself like this for you.

You [6:10 AM]: Very bold move min…..

Yoongi [6:10 AM]: Where are you? I’ll go to you right away.

Yoongi drove to Jennie’s apartment with your favorite cup of coffee and you talked for hours about what happened between you both.

He had hundreds of jobs on the line if he ever decided to create a fuss with the media, but in the end he still chose to be with you. Receiving backlash would be heavy for big hit, but Yoongi had more confidence that they were going to rise through it, even if Bang PD wasn’t too pleased with his public stunt.

“I don’t expect you to take me back...but if you give me another shot, I would be more than willing to become better for us.” He shyly looked down

“Pretending to date someone else behind my back was a pretty dick move, but….I can’t believe you did that V-live thing for me.” You replied “Let’s try again…” You added

Yoongi’s face lit up and he took your hand to squeeze it tightly.

Months have passed since Yoongi’s great confession to the world and the hate from the scandal had finally died down.

He had received a lot of scolding from Bang PD, but Namjoon as the great leader that he is, defended Yoongi’s right to his personal relations.

All of the boys apologized to you for not informing you about the plan and you forgave them.

You also noticed that whenever Taehyung was near, Yoongi tightened his grip on you. You found it weird, but you thought nothing of it.

Most days and nights, Yoongi would still overwork himself even in your own apartment.

“Min Yoongi…come back to sleep.” You poke your head into his home-office

“We’re gonna test my new tracks for the American rappers this morning.” He replied with his eyes still glued to the computer

“It’s still dark outside..” You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck

“I know, I just need to fix some things ” He simply replied

“Why do you work like you’re running out of time?” You chuckled and placed a small kiss on his cheek

“Shh…” He kissed your cheek back

“ Come back to bed, that would be enough…”

“I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.”

“Come back to sleep…” You tried to pull him away from his chair

“This meeting’s at dawn.” He pouted

“Well, I’m going back to bed.” You removed your grip from him He grabbed your arm and placed a soft kiss on your lips “I love you.”

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etlunainmorte · 5 years

Text

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

At first, he thought this was some kind of a practical joke but, when Morrison saw you there, sitting alone on one of the swings of that playground that one particular night, he knew that there was, indeed, trouble.

“At this time of the evening?” The Broker asked, his voice laced with concern. “Tell me what happened, my Lady.”

You looked up and smiled weakly, trying your very best to look normal when you could barely subdue your own tears. “Dante has forgotten that I’m coming home.”

Morrison took a seat on one of the swings, joining you. “Why would he forget about a lady such as yourself?”

You shrugged your shoulders helplessly, showing the man just how much this kind of situation drained you emotionally. “I told you about his girlfriend, right?”

“The one who always visits him and - ”

“… takes over the place and his entire schedule, yes.” You finished for him, then sighed. “I intend on using the back door, like I always do. It’s,… locked. I tried the front, no luck. Then, I heard them. They were talking about me.”

The man’s eyebrows furrowed, his sweat trickling down his forehead due to the very tense, yet sad, situation. “What did they say about you?”

“Dante wants me out of his life. He hates me and doesn’t want to see me anymore.”

“He didn’t!”

“Unfortunately, yes.” You sadly confirmed. “I don’t want to quit Devil Hunting. But, it seems that I just got fired.”

“No! Until I say so, you’re not quitting Devil Hunting.”

“What will I do?”

And so, a month later, Dante found himself knocking on the door of your very own unit in one of the most posh apartments in the city.

“Come on, (Y/N). Answer.” The man nervously said as he waited for you to open the door.

“I’m coming!” He heard you say from the other side, and when you finally came to answer, you were startled to find yourself face to face with him.

“Hey, (Y/N)! I - ” Dante began when you tried to close the door on his face. He held it just in time and pleaded. “Wait! Let me explain.”

“You’ve made yourself clear, Sir.” You answered sarcastically, not wanting to let him in at all. “Now, if you would kindly,… ”

“(Y/N), listen to me very, very carefully.” The man pleaded once more, managing to get past the barrier separating you two. “I can explain everything.”

You just rolled your eyes in defeat and allowed Dante to enter your unit.

As you sat back down on your sofa, the man’s jaw dropped in awe of your place.

“You got this place fully furnished already, huh?” The man uttered as he positioned himself on another sofa opposite you.

“Unlike you, I work my ass off really hard.” You answered nonchalantly as you picked up a leather - bound edition of Lovecraft from the glass - top table.

“How did you get this place?”

“Morrison’s recommendation. Personally knew the owner.”

The man flinched at the hardness and coldness of your voice. At first, he didn’t believe that you would get so upset for what happened.

He didn’t expect it to be this bad.

“Whatever you heard from us that day, none of it was real. I don’t want you out of my life. I don’t hate you, and I definitely want so much to see you back home.”

“This is my home.”

“Look at me!” Dante snatched Lovecraft away, making you look at him involuntarily with much anger in your eyes. “You have no idea just how much you affect me!”

“Isn’t it the right decision for you to let me go, then?!”

“You’re wrong! Everywhere you go, you leave traces of you behind! Everything you’ve touched, every piece of furniture you’ve laid your hands on, even those sad movies you’ve left behind! Everything reminds me of you! I was so confused. I thought that if I let you go, I won’t be burdened by thoughts of you anymore but, I was wrong! (Y/N),” the man said, leaving his chair, coming closer to you, and taking your hands in his. “… go back home, please. I beg you!”

You raised an eyebrow at Dante’s pitiable state. You tried to take your hands off his tight grip and failed.

“Your girlfriend will kill me.”

“I broke up with her.”

This surprised you a lot, knowing how much the man doted on that woman. “Since when?”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s gone.”

Eyeing the man suspiciously, you leaned your face closer to his, trying to see if he was telling the truth or not.

“You do know what our deal is, right?”

To this, Dante’s sweat quite literally ran cold. “Y - yes.”

“No one would belong to anyone. Right?”

“Yes, yes. I know.”

You nodded in agreement, then successfully took your hands off him while he was confused and flustered. You stood up, went to the windows, and parted the heavy curtains, letting the sunlight in and letting the man see how you looked clearly.

Oversized shirt, ponytail, shorts, wool socks, fluffy slippers,…

… that intoxicating vintage wine scent that gave him sleepless nights,…

To Dante, you were the most beautiful thing in the world.

“As a matter of fact, I, too, have a proposal. Accept it and I will return to Devil May Cry.”

Dante stood up and faced you. “Tell me.”

You stepped forward, your gaze not straying from Dante’s eyes.

“I’ve been searching for someone.” You began as you crossed your arms. “I can feel that I’m going to meet him soon. So, when that time comes, you will let me go.”

“Who is he? Why would I let you go if you meet him?”

“You will find that out for yourself. Just, please. Agree to this and I will return, I swear.”

During that time, he had no idea who this man was, or how important it was for you to meet him. And, who could blame him? All he wanted by then was to be with you,…

“Agreed.” Dante finally relented.

“Good. Now, I have to - ” But, you were distracted as the man suddenly took you in his arms and wrapped you in a really tight hug. “Ew! Dante, you stink!” You shrieked, trying to free yourself from his grasp. “When was the last time you took a bath?!”

“A while,… ” the man unapologetically answered, happily sniffing your fragrant hair. “I can’t live without my lovely assistant.”

“Oh, my God! You’re hopeless without me, aren’t you?! Please, take a bath first! I’m dying here!”

“Would you like to join?”

“NO!”

And so, without having to join the man in the shower, you were able to return as his assistant. Days passed, weeks, months, everything was going really well for the both of you,…

… until,…

May 17, 07:45 PM

The room was dark. As expected, the building was deserted. You’ve already heard from the local news that the Demon King that threatened Red Grave with the Underworld Tree was already defeated.

So, as instructed by your boss Dante, you went back a day later to finally meet the others, including the supposed client who offered the job. Yes, particularly him. He said that you two might get along.

You placed your pale pink fur coat on the sofa, seeing a familiar silhouette sitting behind the desk.

“Dante, I thought you’re already paid in advance by your client?” You said, walking towards your boss, unaware of everything that took place during the fight. “Where are the others?”

“What are you doing here?” He said to you in a raspy voice. “You’re not supposed to be here,…”

***

XVI

***

“Imbecile!”

“Useless!”

“That’s what friends are for, right?”

“NO!”

“Why, V?!”

“What evil lurks, I must destroy!”

“The other night dear when I lay sleeping,

I dreamt I held you in my arms.

But when I woke dear,

I was mistaken and I hung my head and I cried.

You are my sunshine.

My only sunshine.

You make me happy when skies are grey.

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.

Please don’t take my sunshine away.

I’ll always love you and make you happy.

If you will only say the same.

But if you leave me to love another,

You’ll regret it all one day.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

You make me happy when skies are grey.

You never know, dear, how much I love you.

Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

Ugh, that radio again,…

You woke up to that song on the radio and to Nico practically shaking you and slightly yelling at you, worried of your state.

“Hey, honey! You look like you’re having a nightmare.”

“Huh? Oh,…” You grumbled as you finally woke up, opening your eyes and letting your sight adjust to the light. “I hope it stays like that - a nightmare.”

“Why? What happened?” Your friend asked, positioning herself beside you on the sofa.

“It felt,… so real.” You answered, your voice hoarse due to dry throat. “It’s like someone stabbed me in the chest over and over and over,…”

“You’re still here. Don’t worry.”

You suddenly felt all the blood drain from your face as realization harshly hit in. “That’s the problem. I can see the future,…”

To this, Nico only boisterously laughed. You sneered at her as you kicked her out of the sofa. She fell from it, still laughing like crazy.

“That’s never a big deal for ya, hon!” The freckled woman informed you through fits of laughter. “You can heal! Anyone can stab through your chest and you’ll still live!”

“Ugh, are you really my friend?” You shook your head as you sat up straight and rubbed your temples. “Stabbed, burned, skewered. You name it, I went through it. If it weren’t for this entity inside me, I wouldn’t even be talking to you right now. But, nowadays,…” you sighed, still feeling a bit worn out from the events that took place the last time you were awake. “… I feel,… completely drained. Like, I’m running out of lives to spare.”

“Is that even possible?” Nico asked as she stood and made her way to the back of the trailer to make you a decent meal. “I mean, you’ve been with that entity for ten years, and you never complained about getting tired.”

“Yes but, lately, I’ve been feeling, I don’t know, worn out? Like I’ve been running an endless marathon with hardly any breaks.”

“I can tell.” Your friend answered with a knowing smile.

“What time is it?”

“Eight fifteen.”

“What? I couldn’t be sleeping for only fifteen minutes.” You questioned, feeling confused.

Nico laughed as she put a mug of hot coffee down on the table. “Hon, you’ve been asleep for twenty - four hours straight!”

“Excuse me?!” You shrieked in disbelief as you hastily made your way towards the dashboard to look at the clock. Yes, it was nearly sixteen minutes past eight in the morning, and you also found out, in horror, that a full day has already passed. “No. Way!”

“V was lonesome, ya know? Wanted to spend the rest of the evening with ya.” The freckled woman declared as she put a plate of scrambled eggs on the table for you to eat. “But, ya had to be sleepin’ freakin’ beauty all day. I knew he should have kissed you awake. Ya know what I’m sayin’?”

“Where is he?” You asked, ignoring her jokes and settling back down on the sofa.

“Patrollin’ the streets with Nero. They should be back any moment now.” Nico answered as she sat on the sofa opposite you. “They took out Eleison.”

“Eleison?” You uttered as you took the mug. “Who’s that? Another Devil Hunter?”

“Oh, that’s Nero’s motorcycle. He named it Eleison for some reason. I don’t know but, everytime Nero mentions it to Kyrie, the girl would not stop giggling. Maybe some lovers’ inside joke or somethin’.”

“Yeah.”

You were about to enjoy your breakfast when you heard someone knocking on the door.

“Since when did I start locking this car, psycho?!” Nico wildly screamed as she stood up and went towards the door to open it,…

“That Fleminger guy better pay me double for this!” Nero raged as he and V made their way back to the mansion after a hard night’s work.

V only chuckled. “As silly as a man’s folly can get,… you should not blame anyone for your own mistake.” He simply said. After two nights straight of Devil Hunting, he felt really worn out to the bone. He longed so much to take a rest, maybe sleep for five hours or so.

But, most especially, he wanted to see you again,…

Nero looked at the thing in his hand and grumbled. “I’m sorry, Eleison.”

When the trailer finally came into view, the two men noticed that not two but, three people were waiting for them.

“Is that,… ?” Nero quietly asked as he pointed at their surprise visitor.

“It is.” V confirmed as memories of that last night went back to him.

As soon as Nico saw the two men approaching, she started waving her arms excitedly, wanting them to meet them faster. And when they finally did, she noticed the suspiciously familiar handlebar on Nero’s hand. Except that it was burnt and slightly bent.

“Yo, dude!” Nico exclaimed breathlessly as she took the thing from the man’s hand. “Is this what I think this is?”

Nero sighed. “Yes.”

“Poor Eleison! What happened to her?!”

“This Demon we fought, a huge thing with tummy teeth, sucked it like a damn vacuum and spew it out at us with fire! That’s what’s left of,… her.”

“I knew she’ll break one day!” Nico said, unintentionally blissful of her accurate conjecture. “I just didn’t know it would happen this way.”

“And we found this.” V added as he threw a horn - like thing at her. It was dark - colored and still smoking slightly. She caught it excitedly and sniffed it like it’s the most fragrant thing in the world.

“Hooee! I’m gonna make something AMAZING out of this!”

“Did you just sniff that?” Nero questioned, utterly revolted. “Do you have any idea where that’s been?”

“Up your butt?”

Nero helplessly shook his head. “Focus on the mission!”

“The boy is right.” A fourth, unknown voice informed them.

All three of them looked behind them to finally notice the Fleminger Head, himself, who was sitting on one of the abandoned chairs of his once pristine ballroom. Next to him, they noticed you, waving at them with a nervous smile.

Fleminger stood up and made his way towards Nero. “I believe you are the hero who defeated the Demon King of Red Grave.”

“I’m hardly a hero.” Nero, not being used to open recognition despite the way he looked, only muttered. “And you must be the man behind all of this.”

The man chuckled. “You have no idea what your words just now meant. I’ am Lord Fleminger, your humble servant.”

“He gave us a week worth supply of food, for your information!” Nico declared proudly as she pointed at the trailer behind her.

“That is,… unusually kind,… of someone like you.”

All four of you, including Fleminger, himself, looked at V as he said those threatening words. He has never forgotten his strange and suspicious encounter with the man, and after that, he became even more cautious of him.

Not to mention it irked him that he was sitting close to you.

“My Lord, it is a pleasure to see you once more.” Fleminger calmly answered V.

“You’ve met?!” Both Nero and Nico said, startled at what they just found out.

“Pleasure.” The poet monotonously replied.

“A word or two. In private. If I may?”

You watched worriedly as Fleminger drew V away from Nero and Nico, excusing themselves. You noticed as V glanced your way, his facial expression telling you not to worry, when you honestly felt the opposite.

You smiled at him, reassuring him that everything would be fine.

V allowed himself to be led by the man, and as he cautiously followed him all the way to the other side of the mansion, he began to suspect something more dreadful, like he was willingly walking into a trap laid by the enigmatic man.

However, despite his gut feelings telling him of impending trouble, V remained silent, his metal cane and their footsteps the only things making noise against the cold, marble floor.

Fleminger, who was talkative, as always, opened his mouth and spoke.

“You have not forgotten about my advice, haven’t you, my Lord?”

“How could I forget such a thing?”

Fleminger chuckled, his voice low and seemed to vibrate.

“Fetching little thing, actually. Came to see her for myself.”

For some reason, V felt the hairs on his nape stand on end at those words. Vague, they may be but, it surely caught his attention in a very bad way.

“Pardon?”

Fleminger did not elaborate. Instead, he turned to the right and faced an ornate wooden door that must have led to an office of some sort. He simply opened it, letting V enter first.

Albeit hesitant, the poet obeyed.

What greeted him inside really didn’t look dangerous, at all. The room was vast, with several portraits of what must’ve been Fleminger’s ancestors hanging on the wall. The heavy oriental maroon curtain was not drawn, and the mahogany floors looked like they have just been polished to a certain degree of perfection. There was a sofa facing a warm hearth, and in the middle of the room was Fleminger’s desk.

“Ah, the errors of humanity, I have forgotten to let the sunshine in!” Fleminger exclaimed theatrically as he made his way towards the curtains to part them, splashing light all over the gorgeous, yet dreary room.

“Why did you choose to stay here?” V inquired, his suspicions of the man getting the better of him.

“My Lord, this is my home.” His companion answered as he leaned on his desk, his gestures similar to when V first met him. “I’ am old, and have nowhere else to go. But, with Devil Hunters such as yourself, I feel secure.”

“Tell me what this Demon is.” V demanded. “You know things that we don’t. You said so, yourself.”

“Getting straight to the point, aren’t we, my Lord?”

“Tell. Me.”

Fleminger smiled at him, his facial expression very much unreadable. “Do you know why the Dreadnought have an army of Demons at its beck and call?”

V didn’t answer and instead allowed the man to continue speaking.

“It is said that the Dreadnought have this,… unusual characteristic. A unique trait, if you will. It draws both higher and lesser Demons to it, enabling it to manipulate them in unspeakable ways.”

“And what is this characteristic?”

“My Lord, what did I tell you the last time we met? About blocking your own sensations?”

V ransacked his convoluted mind for that one encounter, and what came up utterly shocked him to his very core.

“You know how some pleasant things send so many different kinds of sensations all throughout the body. I suggest blocking all of them all the same.” V clearly remembered the man speaking. “It’s best to know what is truth, and what is not.”

But, then, if the Dreadnought could manipulate Demons, both higher and lesser, then he knew - !

In an instinct, V called upon Shadow, who instantly materialized and bared her fangs at Fleminger.

“How did you know who I was?!” V hissed, pointing his cane at the man and threatening him.

Fleminger only laughed. “There is no need to threaten me, my Lord, for I’ am not your enemy. I’ am here to serve you.”

“For what?” V said at the same time that Shadow growled.

“For a greater purpose.” Fleminger left the table and pointed at the portraits of his ancestors. “This Demon has been an archenemy of my family for a hundred years. I’m sure I have already told you that. Putting an end to it means giving those poor souls an eternal rest in Heaven. Ending it means putting an end to my grandmother’s life - long sorrow.”

“And why do I have to be involved with your ancestor’s problems?”

“Oh, because you are the only one who could deal the finishing blow to this unstoppable enemy. Having experienced firsthand this,… Demonic characteristic,… our Dreadnought has, I’ am confident that you would overcome it, seeing through the lies and uncovering the truth.”

“I demand you cease this nonsense! I have not experienced this Demonic trait, nor,… ”

Something made V stop mid - sentence.

Manipulation of the Demons through a particularly unique characteristic?

Manipulation?

Demonic trait?

Fleminger’s smile widened as he noticed V unwillingly drop his defenses at the sudden realization. His suspicious smile even widened as the poet called Shadow back.

“It seems, my Lord, that you have finally understood something.”

“Tell me,…” V quietly said, unable to believe everything he just found out. And still refused to do so. “This trait - what is it, exactly?”

“Scent, my Lord.” Fleminger answered in a whisper, leaning his face closer to V’s direction, casting an uncanny shadow. “Demons are drawn to a particular scent this Dreadnought releases. This scent depends on the personality of its target. It hypnotizes them, and when it finally has them on its grasp, it manipulates them to do its bidding.”

“This,… is impossible.”

Metal cane dropping to the floor with a loud clang, sweaty hands trembling in both fear and nervousness, V’s eyes widened, shock and pain tearing at his own heart and soul.

“I’m afraid it isn’t, my Lord.”

Hands going up on creased forehead and eyebrows furrowed with conflicting emotions, V spoke. “How do I know you are not spouting lies?!”

***

You patiently waited for V to return, and when you finally saw him walking towards you, your face lit up in delight. You excitedly ran and met him halfway.

“V!” You cheerfully said, looking up at the man. “Welcome home.”

“Not now, (Y/N).” The man answered in an uncharacteristically cold tone. “I’m tired.”

“… what?” You managed to speak, easily hurt by his sudden distant attitude towards you.

“Give me a moment. A minute, an hour, I do not care. Please, I beg you,…”

And with those words that cut through your chest like an ice - cold knife, he left you and isolated himself from the rest of your group.

***

🖤 Again, special thanks to @harlot-of-oblivion for the flower language 101. 🖤

***

🖤🖤🖤

***

#devil may cry 5 #vitale sparda #i see my future before me #v x reader #v x you #chapter 16 #the unacceptable truth #revised

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wilhelmjfink · 5 years

Text

“It’s Them” (2/3)

A/N: THIS HAS BECOME A THREE PARTER I’M SORRY I CAN’T STOP THIS PART WAS ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY TO THE STORY I LOVE YOU ALL I MADE A COVER PHOTO FOR IT AND EVERYTHING (source in my masterlist!!!)

I opted to post this part instead of Ch. 10 because...... well idk why just enjoy ~

thank you to my love crossbowking for editing it for me you’re an angel bby and i love you more than anything xoxo

It was hysteria. In every single sense of the word.

You felt like you were watching a movie — a zombie horror movie where everyone was turning and coming back to life, rising from the dead and eating random people as they tried to run or fight back. But it wasn’t a movie, and these weren’t strangers. You’d come to know these people, and the smoke and screams and smell of gunpowder and rotten flesh were far too real as it surrounded you, threatening to suffocate you where you stood.

You’d been most concerned about Carl, knowing how absent-minded Lori could be, for lack of a better term, and you were worried that she might’ve lost him amongst the chaos. You couldn’t afford to lose another child. Especially not so soon.

The horde had moved somewhere down the hill closer into the quarry and you could see them shifting direction after some of your group as they fled. Your machete was grabbed tightly in your hand and your eyes darted back and forth in search of a threat to find that no stray biters were around you and it was still despite the yells and gunshots that rung through the air.

You knew that if you had a chance at all you had to jump into the horde toward your crew to where the camper was as surely they were all going that direction to jump in and flee in it, Daryl leading the way on Merle’s bike.

But as you made it to the bottom of the hill breathlessly, you looked up just in time to see the headlights flick on as it peeled out of the dirt clearing and left you standing amongst the carnage and living dead as they turned and started shuffling slowly toward you.

“Hey,” Lola whispered harshly from behind you, just barely catching your attention. Disbelief? Shock? Fury? What were you feeling right now? So many different emotions were swimming through your head and it was mind-numbing, nauseating almost. You felt as though you should be mad at them — they left you, after all, didn’t they? And shit, they hadn’t even tried to call for you or even wait for you. They’d flat out abandoned you in the quarry, probably assuming you couldn’t handle yourself amongst the herd and died trying to fight your way out.

Well, the joke’s on them. Who was fighting for their lives now?

Negan suddenly rained Lucille down upon a man you didn’t recognize: a big, stocky, red-haired man. And he took it like a champ, too. The people surrounding him cried and yelled and you hardly flinched and it was because of that realization that you deducted just how furious you were at these people.

You just needed to keep moving. One foot in front of the other. Come on. Keep going. You’ll find something eventually. It had been days. Would you ever find anything? Or was the world as you knew it destroyed, human life ceasing to exist and the only lives left were the ones that had abandoned you in the crisis, giving up on you completely.

You thought you’d met some friends — good companions to have at the very least. You’d liked Dale. Rick and T-Dog And Glenn, too. And even the quiet one with the asshole for a brother — you’d liked both of them. They weren’t the nicest or the most modest people, but they were tough and knew how to survive. You had minimal knowledge on that, and it was showing as you wandered farther down the abandoned road, lips cracked and dry from dehydration, head pounding and legs ready to give out.

You’d thought it was a group of walkers approaching from far down the horizon, or maybe it was just a mirage; whatever it was, you couldn’t find the motivation or strength to even handle your machete. In fact, the timing had been perfect, as you stumbled into a pothole that caught and twisted your ankle, sending you harshly down to the hot concrete. And you stayed there.

If it was walkers that were nearing you, let them eat you. This was no way to live — running endlessly in search of food or water or shelter. Even if the world came back from this, it would never be the same, and it wouldn’t be soon, either. Everyone you knew was dead and you’d simply blocked that out when you thought you’d been surrounded by other like-minded survivors who felt like you and struggled like you but fought like you. And you were wrong. So what was the point of trying to survive when you had nothing to live for? Surviving wasn’t living. This life would be pitiful and worse than death.

“Damn, we got a fresh one here.”

“She ain’t dead, dumbass. Look at ‘er, for fuck's sake. Are ya blind?”

“You can’t be too careful anymore, man! They’re all comin’ back!”

“Shut the fuck up — both of you. Hey, there! Are you alright?”

You were sure the blazing hot sun was taking its toll on you as you lay in the middle of the road, literally frying like an egg. You couldn’t find the strength to reply. You were weak, tired, sore, sad. Your ankle hurt. You’d be crying if you could afford to lose any more water that your body didn’t have.

“Well, shit, maybe she is dead...”

Slowly, painfully, you pushed yourself upright. And the voices you heard went silent, replaced with cocking guns, all pointed at you in anticipation of you rising up to eat them alive. Three men. Your stomach dropped and for a brief moment, you wished that they’d been walkers instead.

“Shit, little lady.” The tall one in the middle lowered his weapon and smirked at you with the kind of look that would usually send you running the opposite direction. But you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore. You didn’t even have a gun to shoot yourself with if things did go south. “You look like you’ve been put through the wringer and spit the fuck back out.”

You felt like it. But you still didn’t speak.

“You still with me?” He took a step forward and you flinched, wanting so badly to be ready and able to run away if you needed to, but you knew it would be helpless to even try. “We won’t hurt you. I promise.”

You snorted in derision. Promised?

“Oh, good,” you finally croaked out, voice weak from underuse and unfamiliar to your own ears. “Well, since you promised, and all. Do you mind helping me up? I fucked up my ankle, I think.”

With wide eyes and raised brows, the loud one took another single, large stride toward you with an amused grin having replaced the sneer that had just been there. “God damn if I don’t love me a lady with some sarcasm!”

“Please,” you dismissed his attempt at what you assumed was flirting, considering how few women were left in the world and that they’d been lucky enough to stumble across you. “I'm hardly a lady.” As he knelt down next to you, so tall that he was still hardly eye-level even crouched next to you on the ground, the look faded to one of genuine concern; in fact, it was so genuine, that you were unsettled by it. The two others with him stood patiently behind where they’d stopped, back-to-back as they kept watch.

For being so intimidating and cocky, he was surprisingly gentle as his large hands softly prodded the swollen flesh around your ankle where it had already begun to turn purple. “Well, doll, something like this would have either one of those dumbasses crying in fetal position, and they are, in fact, definitely not ladies. You’re a tough-fuckin-cookie, aren’t you?”

You hadn’t noticed the nervousness you were experiencing had dwindled away into curiosity, the anomaly of a man in front of you both confusing and intriguing you with his behavior. You merely shrugged at his question. “Gotta be nowadays, I guess.”

The grin returned and his dark brown eyes lit up along with it — and it was then you had realized that he was actually kind of... handsome.

And he caught you staring, smiling even bigger with his somehow still perfectly white and straight teeth showing, dragging his tongue slowly across it as you averted your gaze back down to your injury.

“You sure as shit do, doll.” He gave you a once over and you found yourself feeling oddly self-conscious as if your filthy jeans, boots and black t-shirt with unkempt hair and days worth of dirt caked onto your skin had been your choice and not the product of wandering aimlessly by yourself, starving and dehydrated in the summer heat. “I’m gonna guess that by your current situation here that you don’t have a group or anything, do you?”

Everything in you had been screaming to lie but the idea of being with real, living people sounded so tantalizing that you couldn’t stop the ‘no’ from tumbling off of your tongue. He shook his head and frowned again. “You’re all on your own then?”

You nodded. “My last group, we’d been holed up at a camp for a while where we thought it was safe. It got overrun and...” you trailed off, not sure of what to say after having spent so much time blocking out the memories and the unapologetic anger that came with them. The stranger took it as a sign that you’d been through some trauma that you didn’t want to talk about.

“I get it. We’ve all lost people we cared...”

“No,” you immediately cut him off, not wanting him to think you weak and helpless. “Only a handful died that night. The others — they just left me.”

Your voice sounded bitter and cold and you embraced it, still furious about the group of people you’d surrounded yourself with, mad that you’d believed that they might have actually been good, honest people. You’d had a hunch that this world was quickly becoming dog-eat-dog in every sense of the phrase, but your naivety hadn’t let you believe it until you’d been proven that people couldn’t be trusted.

So why was this man hovering over you so interested in you and your story? There was always an ultimatum — especially with men. Even before the world turned to shit; but now more than ever.

“Well, shit, girl. I’ve seen some sad shit over the last couple of months, but that’s just fucked up.”

“Yeah,” you replied bluntly. “So, to answer your question, yes, I am all by myself. And I’ve made it this far, so I would say I’m doing just fine.”

You really hadn’t meant for it to be spat out so harshly but you couldn’t help the bitterness that was still lingering inside of you. The stranger seemed to appreciate it, if anything, and the cocky grin returned once again, and you found yourself jealous that he could smile so freely and so easily. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d laughed.

“I’d love to agree with you, but the pothole you’re sitting inside of tells me otherwise.”

He gestured to your ankle and you followed, almost forgetting about the throbbing injury for a minute, so overcome with rage and regret. He was absolutely right, though — you’d been doing fine but in your current state, you weren’t going to be very quick on your feet and on top of the constant threat of walkers strolling by, it was also getting dark.

“No offense, doll, but you look like shit.” You glared at him, but he continued before you could intervene. “We got a group holed up in a big old factory a few miles back. Women and kids. A doctor, too. I’m sure he’d be happy to look at that ankle of yours.”

As weary as you should’ve been, part of you so desperately wanted to believe it was true. You contemplated it and he noticed your hesitation. “I know, I know — three fine ass men stumble upon you laying in a pothole, starving to death, and take you back to a place with food and water and beds. Too good to be true right?”

You rolled your eyes, but let him continue.

“Well, it’s your lucky day, sweetheart, because it’s absolutely true.”

“What do you want from me?” You asked bluntly, the question having been in the back of your mind since the three happened to find you. You were worried that you’d be forced into a shitty situation with shitty people and that they would do things worse than kill you. But what choice did you have? You could lay there and get eaten alive or get discovered by a different, less charming group of men with different intentions. You were going to die anyway, so what difference did it make?

“Well, since you asked, things work a little bit differently there. We’re working on a system that keeps things going — just like before. You work, you earn. It’s that simple.”

“It’s never that simple,” you argued.

“Let’s be honest, doll. You’re worried that we’re gonna turn all Silence of the Lambs on you. And I get it, I do! But trust me when I say we have a zero tolerance policy for that shit. The first thing we established were rules. Rules are what separate us from the monsters.”

You sat silently as you took in his words. It seemed genuine enough and the mere thought had you willing to jump to your feet and run that direction. With a sigh, you nodded your head.

“Alright,” you said before remembering that you were unable to walk. “Can you help me stand?” Of course asking only frustrated you further, feeling helpless and pathetic. But the magnitude of your injury was already showing through puffy, bruised skin and, if you’d had any energy left, you were sure you’d be cursing because of the pain. But for then, you were fine with being too numb to feel it.

“I’ll do you one better,” the man said, straightening himself out with cracking knees and doubling back over to scoop you up from where you lay on the hard ground with an unintentional yelp of surprise. He spun around and swiftly began walking, beckoning for the two men to follow him back. It had been years since a man had carried you like that — wounded or otherwise.

“Oh, what the fuck, where are my manners?” The man suddenly said, interrupting your daydreaming. “I haven’t even introduced myself. My name’s Negan. What’s yours?”

#the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #negan #the walking dead negan #negan fanfiction #negan x reader #negan imagine #negan drabble #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead drabble #jeffrey dean morgan #twd #twd negan

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floatingtoad · 6 years

Text

First fight.

Title: First Fight.

Pairing: Clementine x Louis.

Warnings: Angst.. a very angry clementine, arguing.

Summary: Louis and Clementine have their first fight as a couple.

Requested by: @psych-kitten I hope you like it ((:

A/n: this took me a while to think of what she was mad at but here you go! Sorry for any spelling error, it’s 12 am and I’m too tired to look for any and edit ha.

Clementines shaky hands go to her lips as she closes her eyes, the blood boiling in her veins with anger as she tries to convince herself not to snap which was really hard considering what the girl had just learned. She was locked up in her and Ajs room alone, sitting up against the door with her knees up to her chest as the rage-filled girl tries to calm herself down. The only thing on her mind was that AJ and Louis were gone and how she was literally going to murder her boyfriend when they got back for not asking before taking her kid with him on a hunt for food, when she found out she tried to leave but Violet convinced her to stay and wait— which was very hard considering she wanted to find the two then literally strangle Louis for scaring her so much.

“Don’t kill him when they get back, Clementine..” She mumbles to herself, sniffling as her hands go to her eyes and wipe the wet spots underneath them. ”AJ’s fine.” Clementine exhales, taking her hat off slowly and opening her eyes before looking at it.

The girl's heartbeat was racing quickly, and it only got faster when she heard a couple of footsteps heading toward her room— the laughs and stupid jokes letting her know it was her stupid boyfriend and Aj. She stands up quickly, dropping the hat on the ground without thinking and whips the door open, the sudden opening of the door causes Louis and AJ to jump back, Louis pushing AJ behind him protectively thinking it was something harmful.. but it was worse.

Way worse then what he expected.

An angry Clementine comes into sight, her nostrils flaring and her eyes willed with rage. If looks could kill, Louis would be on the ground lifeless at this moment and all he could think of was how this was not good.

“Oh,no..” AJ whispers, looking up at Louis with widening eyes— he’s seen that look before, on the ranch. This wasn’t good and if Louis wanted to not die today he better watch what he says. “I-I’m gonna go color with Tenn.” He speaks before scurrying off quickly, leaving Louis to defend for himself.

“Where were you?” Clementines voice was calm but had an angry tone to it as her eyebrows pinch together, her hands going to her hips as her glare bores into his skull— making him gulp.

God, she was scary when she was angry. “I.. I went out hunting with AJ and Aasim,” he responds truthfully, following her as she walks into the bedroom and shuts the door before letting out a sigh. “ I got you flowers?” He says in an unsure voice as he pulled out a bunch of Daisy’s him and AJ picked for her, watching as she turned around and glares at him even more. Louis was stupid to think that that would make her feel better, dropping the flowers on the ground.

“ I-I can not believe you,” she starts out calm, giving him hope that she won’t try to murder him but oh he was so wrong.” You left with AJ and didn’t even think of telling me or asking permission!” Her voice got louder each time she spoke, pacing around the room as she runs her fingers through her hair— feeling as though she was suffocating.

She didn’t mean to yell at him so much, but waking up without her boy or Louis beside her scared the shit out of her so much, she deserved to be told when they left. All her mind could think of while they were gone was if they were okay, she couldn’t lose the kid she basically raised herself and she definitely couldn’t lose her beloved boyfriend who she both cared about tremendously.

“Clem, I’m so sorry— It’s just. y-you were sleeping so peacefully and I didn’t want to wake you u-“

“That’s no excuse! I don’t give a damn about my sleep, if you’re leaving with or without him I want to know just incase I...” she stops mid-sentence, the tension slowly falling as she sits down on their bed. ”..I don’t get to say goodbye for the last time.”

The words that left her mouth calmly breaks his heart, feeling it drop to the floor and shatter into a million pieces that would probably take forever to pick up. Louis never thought it was that serious, but he totally gets why she was freaking out just minutes ago.

It falls silent, Louis staring at her in shock before slowly stepping toward her and sitting down beside her hesitantly— their legs touching ever so slightly which made her look up at him with a frown. He fucked up, he seriously did and as it wouldn’t seem that serious to anyone else, it is for her and obviously, he cares about her a lot.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” He sighs out, looking away from her— his chocolate brown eyes going down to the wooden floor beneath their feet. “I’m stupid for thinking it was okay and you have every right to be pissed at me, but I hope you know that I’d never leave you and I wouldn’t let AJ either.” He was bad at this, trying to apologize. This was definitely a first for him, how does he make up for what he did? The boys never had a girlfriend before.

What he says seems to calm her down a bit, but she was still mad he didn’t ask.

“You made a mistake,” She whispers out, causing him to look over at her.” Everyone does, but you don’t know how much that scared me.” They make eye contact, the two of them freezing ever so slightly.

“And I’m completely utterly sorry for that, I feel so guilty now— I didn’t even think it would be such a heavy burden for you Clem.,” he says truthfully, frowning

“It’s okay..” She replies, earning a weird look from her boyfriend.

“What, seriously?”

“Yes, I forgive you-you didn’t know, I can’t hold that against you, Lou.” She had a point.

“Well. Are you still mad at me enough to not kiss you?” He asks, breaking the silence that begins to surround them after she said that.

The question makes her cheeks grow red, narrowing her eyes at him ever so slightly before glancing down at his plump lips that she always craved so much.

“.. I suppose not.”

Hope you liked it!!

I promised to tag my gf every time I post a fic so @orphic-days here you go my loveeee.

#the walking dead game #twdg #clementine twdg #the walking dead game season four #twdgs4 #twdg louis #clementine #louis #aj twdg #fanfic #blurb #angst #request

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