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lightseoul · 19 days ago

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HOLD ME CLOSE (HOLD ME TIGHT) (3.8k)

pairing. k. bakugou x reader

synopsis. masaru has a stroke that nearly kills him. bakugou handles it well—until he doesn’t.

cw. pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (32), established relationship, mentions of illness, themes of grief, discussions of past trauma (bkg's)

a/n. i hope y'all cry because this made me cry lmao. writing really is easy if you take heavy inspiration from your personal experiences lol. this is written from bkg's pov, and serves as a mini character analysis as well ig?

bakugou remembers it clear as day.

it was only a few weeks after the two of you celebrated his 32nd birthday in a secluded resort out of town when he got the call.

he was in the middle of chastising his klutz of a sidekick’s ear off for forgetting to submit an important case report when his phone started ringing, and the very fact that it wasn’t your ringtone further soured his already worsening mood.

with a final reprimand laced with an hr-appropriate amount of expletives, he dismissed the rookie, leaving him alone in his pristine, corner office.

he recalls sighing in annoyance upon seeing the caller id, as well as his clipped tone when he greeted the old hag with a curt, “what.”

that annoyance was immediately replaced with alarm, however, when his usually bright mother spoke into the microphone, her typically level voice shaking with unmistakable fear.

“it’s your father, katsuki…” she started, and he instantly braced himself for the impact.

mitsuki takes a shaky inhale. “…he’s having a stroke. we’re on the way to the hospital. please, come here.”

he didn’t need to be told twice.

he remembers being on autopilot—the entire way to the suburban peripheries of musutafu where his parents decided to move after he got his own place at the age of 22. he’s not entirely sure—the journey over now a hazy blur—but he might’ve sent you the link to his location, because you magically arrived at the local hospital around fifteen minutes after him.

the moment he saw you burst into the entrance of the emergency room, a huge, tidal wave of relief immediately washed over him, he thought he could’ve collapsed. the second you lock eyes, he witnessed a whirlwind of emotions dance across your beautiful features, before you ran over to where he stood near the vending machine, unceremoniously crashing into his arms.

at that point, he had no idea what made you drop everything—including the precious work that you do—and just follow him based on an ambiguous gps locator he sent you without context, but he was glad you did.

because it was only as you held him so close to you all the while soothing his back and chanting soft ‘it’s okay’s’ in his ear did it hit him.

the fact that he’s fucking terrified.

it must’ve been at least three hours of stewing in tense silence in the emergency room’s waiting area before the two of you finally saw mitsuki.

he remembers the way his heart ached when he first laid eyes on his mother, someone who’s typically radiant and spirited and happy, now looking too frail and painfully vulnerable.

words weren’t exchanged as the three of you walked towards each other, and he promptly engulfed his mother into a tight hug before he could talk himself out of it.

“how is he?” he whispered into the side of her head, choosing to ask then, in the middle of a hug, because he didn’t know if he could stand the look on her face when she answered.

“he’s alive,” she managed to get out, but she said it so tentatively that he knew it was too soon to feel any sort of relief.

“but…?” he recalls asking with bated breath.

“it was a hemorrhagic stroke. it’s… it’s bad, katsuki.”

it wasn’t until a few more hours later, when the two of you were finally granted permission to enter masaru’s hospital room together with mitsuki, did he realize what bad meant.

some parts of this story are blurry now, but the way his stomach dropped at the sight of his father remains to be unforgettable.

the sight of him paralyzed, head to toe.

masaru remained confined in the hospital for a few weeks more after that. the three of you took turns—one would go home to clean up and catch some sleep while the remaining two kept watch and assisted the man.

you almost got booted out of there on the second day, with the nurse saying only immediate family was allowed due to overcrowding in the hospital, but bakugou was quick to step in and say you were practically married.

when the nurse politely pressed for more details while looking pointedly at your ring finger and the lack of a wedding band, he lied and said you forgot to wear it in your rush to get there.

she didn’t seem too convinced, but she thankfully let it go, probably because it was #2 pro-hero dynamight who said so, eventually exiting the room after checking masaru’s vitals.

he remembers you heaving a sigh of relief once the three of you were left alone, tossing him a small smile that sent a familiar shot of longing straight to his veins.

one day, he recalls thinking to himself, you will be married.

just—not now.

the first day home was as much of a nightmare as he expected it to be.

growing up, and until that moment, he never really found himself wanting siblings.

sure, it got pretty lonely during his childhood, but he almost always had kids following him around what with how flashy his quirk is, and he had izuku, which he can now admit was (and still is) his best friend.

plus, you always said you loved how he’d roughhouse you, which you chalked up to him being an only child and not having had the opportunity to do that with anyone else.

but, as the three of you struggled to lift masaru out of the car and into his newly minted wheelchair, he remembers wishing for a brother or a sister who could lend a helping hand and make sure all of masaru’s numb body parts were carefully looked out for.

it’s fucking hilarious, how he didn’t just lift his father all by himself with his pro-hero muscles, but the fear of accidentally hurting him even more turned out to be more paralyzing than he anticipated.

not that he would ever admit that to anyone.

not even you.

but as he watched you and his mother fluttering around, tending to masaru’s needs not even a minute you get in the house, it struck him that maybe he should.

you might not be his sibling (thank god, no), but you will most likely become his parents’ daughter if things go his way.

and, whether he liked it or not, he’s got to do something about the growing ache in his chest that’s only growing wider by the second.

the next few weeks he spent busying himself with the stuff that came with looking after a stroke patient.

mitsuki, who’s done nothing but throw herself into caring for her husband, insisted on helping him find the people they needed, but bakugou didn’t even let her get a word in.

when he tucked himself into bed right next to you later that night in his new bedroom (you moved in with him to his parents’ despite his protests), he recalls ranting about how the old hag was getting on his nerves with her inability to just let him handle shit.

“have i ever been incompetent?” he huffed, turning on his side so he could lie facing you. “it’s like she doesn’t even trust me.”

“i think the two of you just want the same for the other, kats,” came your steady yet gentle voice, not missing a beat and totally unfazed by his petulant behavior.

“…waddya mean?”

you reached out to caress his cheek, and he remembers how soft your fingers felt and how his eyes momentarily fluttered close at the warmth.

at the sight, you flashed him a sad smile before pressing on.

“you’re both hurting, but the two of you would rather carry the weight by yourselves instead of burdening the other. it’s how you and mitsuki show you care.”

he didn’t say anything after that.

at least, for a while.

finally, he spoke up. “…i just don’t like to be bossed around, is all.”

to that, you only tossed him a knowing look. “yup, just that. definitely. never mind your immense sense of responsibility and the stubborn yet admirable way you carry everybody’s bur—”

“yeah, yeah,” he cut you off before you could ramble any further. “i get it.”

seemingly satisfied, you grinned up at him before pulling him close, cradling his head by your chest.

with the new position, he could feel your familiar, rhythmic heartbeat.

your heartbeat that he liked to listen to for reassurance—telltale evidence that you’re alive and right next to him, and that no villain has wrestled you out of his firm grip.

and as he lay there snuggled into you and listening to the consistent pulse, he found his frantic, loud thoughts slowly but steadily being lulled to a hum.

thoughts that he knew you’d kick to the moon if you found out he’s been thinking them.

thoughts like maybe he’s just selfishly gatekeeping all the tasks so he could distract himself from the pain that’s threatening to swallow him whole.

thoughts like maybe he deserved this for all the wrong he’s done growing up.

thoughts like maybe his mother would be in far less pain if it were him instead of his saint of a father who had to go through this.

he fell into a fitted sleep that night.

after a few more weeks of searching for and screening applicants, and with your and mitsuki’s approval, he finally settled on a stay-in caregiver and physical therapist.

it took quite a while for the two to learn the ropes and master how he wanted things to be done around here, but they eventually got there, and when they did, they cleared a lot of stuff that has been on everybody’s plates ever since masaru had the stroke.

with that, mitsuki insisted the two of you go home to your shared condominium and get back into working full-time again, but neither of you relented. he tried to get you to return, not wanting to hold you back from the important things that you do, but you were quick to dismiss him.

he didn’t tell you then and there, but he secretly wished you would.

he’d never confess this to anybody, but he’d definitely crumble without you around.

he remembers one specific thursday, when you first started getting masaru into exercising his left, albeit non-dominant hand, by drawing.

it was silly, but he recalls not even being able to look his father in the eye as the two of you sat across from him who was plastered in his wheelchair, a small coffee table between you, on which sat a piece of paper, a pencil, a box of crayons, and an all might plushie you swiftly grabbed from his bedroom.

and as he sat there avoiding his father’s gaze, he watched you as you talked animatedly to the man, explaining the deceivingly simple activity: he just had to try and draw the plushie, after which, if he still had the energy, he could color in using the crayons you dug out from bakugou’s drawers.

but masaru wasn’t having it.

the man only stared at you in disinterest as you tried your best to engage him. despite himself, bakugou felt indignation creep up his spine.

he knew. fuck, he really did. after he made sure you’ve fallen asleep, he had spent nights researching his father’s condition, poring over mountains and mountains of information all in the name of being able to better understand and help him.

so he knew—he knew that strokes, especially severe ones, can cause noticeable changes in one’s personality, at least in the short term. it can turn someone sensitive and in tune with others’ emotions into someone who’s apathetic and seemingly self-absorbed.

still, that knowledge doesn’t stop him from jumping on his feet when masaru, his kind, sweet father, angrily wiped off the table with his left arm, sending the materials you worked hard to gather scattered all over the floor.

and, before he could stop himself: “hey!”

you were onto him in an instant, a soothing albeit restraining hold on his shoulder. “katsuki, it’s okay.”

he was about to open his mouth to spit venom when he felt you tighten your grip. he didn’t have to glance at you to know you were looking at him the way you always did when you were begging him to stay quiet.

and because he loved (loves) you, he did.

and as he wordlessly picked up the papers and pens in silence, he couldn’t help but mourn over his father, and the patience and calmness that characterized his being.

the very patience and calmness that he always wished he had, instead of his temper and aggressiveness, because that’s what you, of all people, deserved.

and then the all-too-familiar guilt hit him again.

because why was he acting like his father died, when he was still very much alive?

simple, bakugou thought to himself.

it’s because it feels like he has.

his relationship with masaru didn’t get better after that.

he’d been trying, he really had been. if not for you, who’d been tending to his father like he was your very own, then for his mother, whose fatigue and sadness have been chipping away at her by the minute.

he was washing the dishes in the kitchen after you’ve had dinner—all the while his parents watched tv in the living room—when you walked in, a couple more dirty plates in tow.

he wouldn’t have noticed he was glaring down at the brick of butter on the shelf if you didn’t point it out.

“a few more seconds and that’s gonna melt,” you quipped.

he looked back at you, gears in his head turning for a beat, before he chuckled half-heartedly and turned back to the sink.

behind him, he recalls hearing a click, which he now identifies as you putting down the plates on the kitchen island, before he felt your arms wrap around his middle, encasing him in a hug.

your voice was smooth when you drawled out, “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, baby?”

still, and despite all the shit that’s been going on in his life, he still found himself shuddering at the pet name.

“nothing.”

“really?” came your immediate response. “because i was getting kinda jealous with how hard you were staring at that butter.”

at that, bakugou couldn’t help but snort. you followed suit, that delightful laugh echoing across the small room.

“stupid,” he simply retorted, although both of you knew there was no bite to it.

you didn’t press him for more after that, choosing to just hold yourself against his back in comfortable silence—which he now knows he’s grateful for.

because at that time, he couldn’t have told you he was feeling nothing but resentment for his pitiful father.

his pitiful father who loved to put butter in virtually every dish he whipped up.

his pitiful father who probably wouldn’t be pitiful if he just led an active lifestyle, monitored his health, and made better choices so that his poor mother wouldn’t have to go through all this.

his train of thought was interrupted, however, when a pang of that same old guilt hit his chest, and then he was once again flooded with scalding shame.

because what else should he be feeling for his father aside from empathy, as someone who has had far too many brushes with death itself?

“…katsuki?”

he recalls jolting ever so minutely, before turning his head to look at you, who, by then, was already standing behind him, apparently already having released him from the hug.

“huh?”

“i was just asking you,” you continued as if he didn’t just zone out. “our friends want to come by and visit, if you’re okay with it. is that alright with you?”

the last thing he needed was for his nerd-ass friends to visit and witness his family’s dirty laundry, which would inevitably be aired out for them to see given the circumstances. his entire life, he always, always, kept those from prying eyes, even if they were his closest buddies’.

but, at the mention of his friends, he found his heart clenching in yearning despite himself.

and so, before he could talk himself out of it, he nodded in approval.

“…and so that’s how i saved the little girl who was convinced i was the bad guy!”

he remembers everyone in the room erupting in laughter at kirishima’s story, even masaru, who’s been steadily gaining control of the left side of his body back.

his right has seen little to no improvement, but you and mitsuki have been making it a point to celebrate every win, no matter how small.

at kirishima’s gag, bakugou himself couldn’t help the somewhat imperceptible smirk that encroached on his face, which izuku, unfortunately, caught sight of. the #1 pro-hero beamed at him, and it took bakugou every ounce of self-control not to roll his eyes at the nerd.

“what about you, midoriya-kun?” asked mitsuki, who’s seated on a stool right beside her husband, who’s nestled comfortably in the reclining chair you got him about a month ago.

at the call out, the green-haired man shifted his attention to the lady, before sheepishly retorting with: “oh, i just try to be funny.”

that granted him his round of laughter, and this time bakugou finally allowed himself to give into the visceral urge to roll his eyes.

he must’ve been being so obvious with his expressions, because it’s you who managed to catch him again, shooting him a chastising but nevertheless playful look.

before he could wink at you or do anything in response, though, he recalls mitsuki standing up quite abruptly, startling the five of you.

you shot her a question before anyone else could. “what is it, mitsuki-san?”

“i didn’t notice! we’ve run out of tea and snacks. sorry—” she leaned down to get the trays, “—let me get some mo—”

“i’ll do it!” volunteered the ever-good-natured izuku, who moved so fast the plates were on him before the rest could blink.

“i’ll help the nerd,” bakugou added, standing up before taking some of the cups from his rival lest the latter drops them.

at the uncharacteristically generous offer, izuku once again beamed at him, which bakugou immediately dismissed with a wave of a hand.

the short trek to the kitchen was quiet amidst the background noise, which has been brought up a notch thanks to kirishima’s vivid storytelling.

without a word, bakugou gestured where to get a refill on the snacks while he busied himself with brewing more tea.

the silence that engulfed them was comfortable—familiar—that was, until, izuku broke it.

“thanks again, kacchan.”

bakugou felt his eye twitch at the nickname. “for what?”

izuku turned on his feet to regard his best friend, a grateful smile gracing his boyish features. “for letting me and ei visit. i just wanted you to know i appreciate it. i’m sure it’s not easy having guests around while, you know…”

he wasn’t about to tell the nerd he and kirishima were the only ones he felt comfortable enough to visit at the moment, so he merely nodded.

(un)fortunately, the greenhead took it as a sign to continue.

“she’s been amazing, huh?”

bakugou met the man’s soft gaze, which was directed toward you.

“yeah,” came his sure reply. he remembers not even knowing where to start, so he just simply left it at that.

a pregnant pause.

“you’ve been doing great, too, kacchan.”

that caught him off guard.

he must’ve looked stunned, because izuku shrugged quite timidly, before: “we all see how hard you’re working.”

the #1 pro-hero hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether or not to say the next thing, ultimately deciding for it.

“…but don’t forget to take care of yourself, too, alright?”

and just as fast as he scooped the trays back in the living room, izuku patted him on the shoulder before taking the cups from him and waltzing rather clumsily out of the kitchen.

later that night, bakugou found himself unable to fall asleep.

it’s been ages since you both got into bed, and you were now on your side with your back turned against him, probably already fast asleep.

he recalls just staring up at the off-white ceiling, playing back in his head the earlier conversation he had with izuku again and again and again.

“you’ve been doing great, too, kacchan,” was what the nerd said.

if he only knew.

if he only knew the terrible thoughts that had been plaguing his mind since shit went down.

there’s a reason why he hasn’t said a single word about the things he’d been thinking since day one.

there’s a reason why he’s kept all of this shit to himself even though they were fucking heavy to carry all on his own.

it was because he was scared of them, and even more scared of what people would make of him when he finally verbalized them into existence.

what you would make of him.

he’s spent most of his life running away from who he used to be, that the mere thought that he might have just always been that guy this entire time is like a fucking 100% detroit smash to the gut.

he didn’t even notice he was crying until he felt a single tear go down the side of his face.

he quickly reached up to wipe it away.

to his horror, he felt you shift beside him, and he found himself frozen in fear as he waited for you to settle into another position in your sleep.

but that didn’t come.

instead, he remembers so, so clearly how you turned to face him—absolutely, evidently wide awake—with such a worried expression on your gorgeous face, and how he just completely lost it at the sight of you.

he remembers how you scooped him into your arms as ugly sobs finally wracked his body, how you led his arms to wrap around your waist to help anchor him as he cried into your chest.

he remembers the soothing circles you rubbed on his back as you started to cry with him, your sniffles the only thing he heard aside from his own weeping.

he remembers the way your voice cracked when you started whispering ‘i’m here’s’ in his ear. and, he doesn’t know if it’s because that line carries a massive fucking weight for him, or that it’s you—the love of his life—who’s saying them, but the words wash over the entirety of his exhausted body like a violent storm, leaving him shivering in its wake.

he remembers deciding then and there, that he was going to tell you everything.

maybe tomorrow, but not now.

for now, and in the safety of your arms, he finds himself finally allowing the grief—the grief that he’s unknowingly been trying to tamp down—to come forward and make itself known.

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a nice day!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #mha imagines #bnha imagines #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugou drabble

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vyva-melinkolya · 24 days ago

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we all agree that the push towards short form, vertical video (tiktok/reels/shorts) is ruining fucking everything right? Tiktok has been useful for the dissemination of political information (e.g Gaza) i’ll give it that, but that feels moreso a result of meta and twitters algorithms being just a little *more*’evil and censor happy. And i want to make it very clear that my hatred for tiktok has nothing to do with the fact that it was a product of a Chinese company, because i see a lot of critiques relying on some sort of sinophobic conspiracy. On the contrary, it’s what tiktok has become in the vacuum of western popular culture and marketing that makes me fearful.

I know that every generation faces a new, polarizing technology and inevitably, there are those among said generation who will critique it. That is the nature of things. However, there is also something to be said about how, with the acceleration of technology (running parallel to the acceleration of capitalism, acceleration towards collapse etc), each coming generation faces an increasingly more malevolent “advancement”. TLDR, i’m going to talk my shit.

I’m going to speak on the aspect that is most relavent to me, as a musician. I am petrified by what short form video is doing to music and to musicians. I think that tiktok provides the illusion of making music and being a musician more “accessible” while actually pouring gasoline on the fire that the pop music machine had already started. Standards for what popular culture “expects” from music are being doubled and tripled. Let’s talk about song length. Success and marketability favoring shorter songs is not something new, it has been the trend for decades. But with short form video, it goes even further. You’re not just hearing the same song over and over on the radio, you’re hearing the same 15-30 seconds of the same song over and over again. This in-turn, starts to influence the way people write music, persuading people to make songs that *could* have that 15 second appeal. There is an art to pop music, there is an art to writing a catchy hook—this is something else. We weren’t meant to hear or understand music like that. There are so many songs from reels that i found annoying, until i heard them in their full context. It’s insidious. It makes everything feel like a fucking commercial, even if nothing is being advertised.

I’m going to pull directly from someone else’s experiences, someone who’s music seems to be everywhere on short form videos. The ambient musician My Head Is Empty has a hundred million streams on the song “i was only temporary”. Despite that exposure, they experience “never ending copywrite issues” and have “received death threats” by people who refuse to credit them when using their song. Pulling a quote here, from a comment on their own post

“vyva_melinkolya unfortunately it just gets worse. i saw a bot content page that steals pod cast footage and spams dozens of videos with my song stolen, comment on a "motivation" spam content , who actually made a post telling people the name of my song, and the previous page i mentioned, the pod cast spam commented on that video saying "Bro stop don't give out the sauce. this audio helps me pull numbers brooo" - so people are actively INTENTIONALLY stealing it and telling people to not credit me. like. u can't make this stuff up”

Beyond this, My Head Is Empty feels frustrated that despite all this exposure, the rest of their work (nine albums) as a musician remains under appreciated, and i think that frustration is 100% valid. People cannot fully appreciate music, or even understand it as a work of art created by another human, when it’s taken so far out of its context. Again, the soul being sucked out of art by “the machine” isn’t anything new but, this is a whole other level. Being a musician is more expensive than ever, streaming earns you fractions of a cent etc, it all feeds into itself.

When a song or a musician i love deeply finds its way on to tiktok (let’s use Duster’s “Stars Will Fall”, one of my favorite songs ever as an example)I am not upset that i cant “gatekeep” it anymore. I’m not upset by the idea of something I love and hold dearly finding a larger audience. I AM upset in the manner in which it is being disseminated. I’m upset with art I hold dear to me being chopped up and used as “trending audio”. When I saw Duster in concert recently, lStars Will Fall” was the song I was most looking forward to hearing. It was the last song they played, and it was the song seemly everyone chose to talk loudly over. The audience was mostly people my age and younger. This complaint might come off as petty or pretentious or cliche, i frankly do not give a shit.

Let’s talk about how musicians are expected to promote music on tiktok/reels. This is a matter of opinion, at the risk of sounding very pretentious: the “POV we are x band from x” “My label says i need x followers before x” “posting this video until c musician notices me”. I understand that some of it is in jest but, what the fuck? When did this become the norm? I do not blame anyone for promoting their music like this, but we should want more for ourselves. I’ve always said being a musician is deeply embarassing, inherently. If being a musician is inherently embarassing then what is this? I dont have a solution for this, and the music industry has always been ugly and bloodthirsty and seldom fruitful— but i feel like the very small amount of dignity we had as artists is now lost and I cant fucking stand it. Artists seem to promote the same single with dozens of reels over the course of months, hoping that something sticks. I dont want to sound like i’m shaming or, again, sound like i can provide a solution. I’m just very fucking sorry that it seems like this is “the way”. And personally, i’m scared that if i dont “get with the program”, im going to fail.

Again, all of this speaks to larger trends in entertainment industry and even larger trends in capitalism. But i’m just airing specifics right now because frankly? I cant take it anymore.

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cherryredcheol · 7 months ago

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two boyfies

tldr: do you actually have two boyfriends like jeonghan said? and why doesn't cheol know? a/n: god, the way i feel about this man should be criminal... references to: drinking and a brief mention of sex

the latest episode of your drama had just finished when seungcheol walked through the door. he was right on time, just like he said he’d be. you were so delighted to see him, running to the door before he could even get both his shoes off, wrapping your arms tightly around his middle.

“missed you,” you tried to convey the sweet message to him but the words came out muffled because of how your face was buried in his chest.

he understood you nonetheless, he always did, “missed you too, baby.” he pulled you impossibly closer, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, breathing in your soft scent as he did so.

you two stayed like that for what felt like hours, just holding each other after a long day apart: him doing his schedules, you going to work. although you lived together now, it never felt like you’d get enough time with seungcheol. you’re not sure how you survived the days of living separately.

“baby” he spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the peace in the apartment.

“hmm?” you hummed at him, acknowledging that you heard him but making no real attempt to remove yourself from him.

you could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke, “hannie told me something crazy today and i just have to tell you.”

this piqued your interest but not enough to get you to look at him, still content to listen to his steady heartbeat, “what?”

“he said,” seungcheol paused for dramatic effect, “that you told him you have two boyfriends.”

you knew instantly what your (only) boyfriend was referring to. as a blush crept up your neck and onto your face you felt cheol’s chest shake with laughter, you whined and tried to bury yourself deeper into him, not wanting to face his teasing eyes yet.

“know anything about that baby?” he asked, finally pulling back from you in an attempt to get you to look at him, a little smirk on his lips.

your head swiveled around, looking around the apartment to find some excuse to get you out of this awkward moment created by your big mouth and your boyfriend’s best friend.

seungcheol grabbed your chin, pulling your face to look at his, forcing your eyes to meet and in them, you saw nothing but mirth.

your blush deepened and his smirk grew, “i asked you a question baby. don’t make me repeat myself”

he released you and you groaned, wholly embarrassed, “cheollie, you know i only have eyes for you.”

at this confession his smirk bloomed into a full, toothy grin. he could end it here, but he was enjoying seeing you squirm, “are you saying jeonghannie is a liar?”

you rolled your eyes, “obviously not, he’s just not telling the whole truth.”

“will you tell me the whole truth then?” he pouted at you, “spent the whole day thinking my baby had another boyfriend. am i not enough for you?”

part of you wanted to walk away from him, leave the safe embrace of his arms, and rethink the offer on the tip of your tongue about making dinner. but you knew when cheol was playful like this, he wouldn’t let it go. he would keep badgering you all night to tell him what jeonghan had meant and if you really had another man besides him.

“first of all, in my defense, i only told hannie that i had two boyfriends when i was drunk so you can’t really take my words at face value,” you were trying to rationalize it to him, make him understand the context of this situation you were about to explain to him.

“you know what they say baby,” seungcheol continued to tease you, “drunk words are sober thoughts.” he looked so smug with his little smirk on, looking down his nose at you, nothing but completely endeared by your shyness.

“the only thing i said to hannie was it was like i have two boyfriends. i have my seungcheollie and then s. coups.” you couldn’t even look at him as you said this, far too embarrassed by drunk you from a few weeks ago. seungcheol however couldn’t look away, somehow feeling more and more fond as the blush staining your face got impossibly deeper.

“are they not the same, baby? both are me. how could they be different?” he was goading you on at this point. he knew what you meant, but he just wanted to hear you say it.

“cheollie…” you whined. you knew he was just dragging this out to tease you further.

he pulled you into his chest again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and you think you’re in the clear until you hear him murmur against your hairline, “explain it to me, baby”

you huff and whine against him, wanting to escape his hold and this embarrassment, but you know he won't let this go so you concede, dignity be damned, “its like you’re one person when its just you and i. that’s seungcheollie: all soft smiles and tight hugs. seungcheollie takes care of me in a way i never even knew i needed. he’s a lover boy” he hums and you can feel it reverberate in your chest that was tightly pressed against his. when he says nothing more, you take it as a cue to continue. “s. coups is sexy, domineering, and intimidating. he has this huge presence that’s impossible to ignore. he fucks. he’s different than just you cheollie, you know it.”

at first, it was quiet and you thought the teasing was over. you were so embarrassed you had just admitted all of that to him, hoping he didn’t think you were a weirdo.

then he giggles. his giggles trigger your own and suddenly you’re both holding each other, laughing in the entryway to your apartment, cheol with one shoe still on despite having gotten home a while ago.

after the laughter subsides, he looks down at you, smiling fondly, “you’re so cute, baby. i love you so much. we both do.”

he leans down for a kiss but you groan, pushing him away, walking towards the kitchen, intent on starting dinner but not sure if your boyfriend deserves it.

he laughs, following behind you like a lost puppy, determined to show you how even though you feel like you have two boyfriends, you’re the only one for him.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #svt #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol imagine #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #scoups #scoups imagines #scoups imagine

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stxrvel · 9 months ago

Text

the house (2)

hi guys! i felt so inspired that i was able to write part 2 soon and that's a very rare thing for me. thank you so much for all your comments and notes! they made me very happy. see you in the next one!

summary: Azriel wasn't gonna give in so easily with Rhysand, but he had to do everything he could to ensure his mate's well-being pairing: azriel x f!reader words: +3.5k warnings: bad words and fights and angst and a lot of anger. also English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes!

part 1: the cliff

part 3: the court

part 4: the routine

“... what the fuck is wrong with me? No, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Az, I had no idea-”

“What does that fucking power works for if you're not gonna use it right?”

Cassian stood back from the commotion, with Nesta and Mor on either side of him watching from head to head as words crossed. Azriel was raising his voice and snarling at his own High Lord, and Cassian was almost surprised to see the way Rhys only dropped his shoulders, looking at his brother with sunken eyes as he claimed him. He had no intention of defending himself, Cassian could almost feel how embarrassed and remorseful Rhys was from a distance.

Azriel had a right to be angry, everyone knew that. And no one would stand in the way (unless the situation turned violent) because they understood the lengths you could go to just to safeguard your mate's well-being. Rhys would do it for Feyre. Cassian would do it for Nesta. Cassian always believed that this was how he would see Azriel defend his mate, right when he found her, and he was grateful that Rhys understood that his cries came from beyond rage and anger. There was anguish there, pain, guilt… Cassian had never seen Azriel so upset.

Returning to the Town House was torturous. Azriel wouldn't leave his mate's side and wouldn't allow any of his brothers to get close either, but she wasn't willing to go to a place she didn't know at all either, even if her mate accompanied her. Cassian had to watch his friend be more cautious and careful than ever with someone he never thought he had to be: with himself and Rhys. The sight was bleak as Azriel's shadows swirled around him and his mate, almost as if erecting a wall between the four of them. The looks Azriel sent them were like daggers and just by sharing a glance they knew that this was something the Shadowsinger wasn't going to overcome out of thin air, even if hundreds of years of friendship gave him the confidence to do so.

Azriel had to make a promise with her to convince her to leave, because he wasn't willing to let her disappear from his sight and she wasn't willing to just go with them for the sake of it, when one of the men in front of her was the one who pushed her off the cliff.

Cassian noticed several times Azriel watching the tattoo with crystallized eyes. Beyond everything, the hostile and distrustful context of the whole situation caused him pain.

Arriving at the Town House, they were all assembled. Without wondering too much without Rhys having spoken to Feyre (which he surely had), Cassian ran into the kitchen where Nesta was with her sisters and enveloped his mate in a tight embrace. Within seconds he heard movement around him and knew Rhys had done the same. Neither of them would ever be able to forgive each other for what had happened, if Azriel ever forgave them first.

“Az, I'm truly sorry,” Rhys stood behind his desk, the only thing that allowed him distance from a heated Azriel, besides Feyre's presence which the Shadowsinger respected even within his rage. “I was careless with the inmates. And you're right, it was easier for me to have simply looked inside her head. It had been a long time coming and I think I became confident of the reality of the situation, that whenever I saw inside them I knew what they were. I didn't give her the benefit of the doubt. I'm sorry, brother.”

“Your apologies are worthless,” Azriel spat, his face almost red from the way he was trying to contain his emotions and his hands resting on the table. Rhys lowered his head in front of him, running his hands over his face. “How are you going to fix with your words what for years broke under your nose? How can I come to look at you with respect when my mate is terrified to see you?”

Cassian felt Nesta's hands wrap around his right arm and he lowered to look at her questioningly. She had reserved her comments from the moment Cassian had told the two sisters what had happened. Feyre had escorted Rhys to his office after their effusive hug and Cassian had stayed with Nesta and Elain in the kitchen, talking. With Elain it had been a little easier, her face looked mortified and she had run after Rhys and Feyre barely understood what had happened.

Nesta… she tried not to show what she was thinking, but Cassian knew there was something that made her feel upset and insecure.

Cassian tugged at the bond, trying to get her attention and Nesta had to drag her gaze from Azriel to look at her mate. Cassian felt the air rush out of his chest when he noticed the tears under her eyes. He didn't waste a second in leading her out of the room, moving into the giant living room in complete darkness, despite it being barely noon. The maroon curtains lent a more somber look to the situation.

“What's wrong?”

Nesta closed her eyes as Cassian's hands cradled her face, letting out a pair of tears that furrowed the border with her cheeks. A ragged breath left her and Cassian felt the agony of her nervousness shake his body.

“I had already seen her,” she whispered, her eyelids tightening. Cassian frowned, but didn't interrupt her when she came up for air again. “I once accompanied Rhysand and Feyre to the camp. Feyre had told me that Rhysand had some business to take care of on the mountain. I heard… I heard her voice…”

Cassian pulled his mate closer by the shoulders, pressing her against his chest as her voice broke off.

“I heard her voice begging Rhysand to believe her,” Nesta continued, trying to still the sobs that were born in the ache in her chest. Cassian shared the sentiment, the end of the bond in his chest twisting with his mate's wailing. “She was so scared…”

Nesta wrapped her arms around Cassian's torso, sinking her face into her mate's neck. Cassian moved from side to side, trying to send warm sensations through the bond, trying to calm her down a bit.

Nesta's revelation left Cassian almost frozen. The last time Rhys had gone to the mountain had been ten years ago.

Azriel hadn't expected that to be the way he would meet his mate, much less would he have expected her to be terrified to be around his brothers and almost himself and, of course, much, much less had he expected to hold so much resentment against Rhysand.

His mate hadn't left the room Azriel had left her in, as far away from the others' rooms as possible. With the tattoo burning his skin, Azriel had not only promised her that she would be safe in the Town House, but she had also made him promise that her interactions with his brothers would be next to none. With the watchful eyes of his friends from centuries ago upon his back, Azriel agreed. He had to make sure to provide for his mate's physical and mental health, especially when he knew that the time she had spent with the Ilyrian soldiers had to have been traumatizing.

And of course, there was also the issue of the bond.

His mate couldn't or didn't know how to control the flow of emotions that traveled through the bond and Azriel felt it all. At the moment she was relaxed, calm inside the room away from everyone, but Azriel was losing his temper in the living room. His friends were gone, they had left him a moment alone when he had finished yelling at Rhysand, as he tried to control his emotions and those of her mate, who had surely been listening to everything and so was sending distressing sensations through the bond.

But even with all that space to himself he still felt like he couldn't breathe.

He didn't know how things were going to be from now on. The mere thought terrified him to the bone. He didn't know how he would deal with the fact that he wanted and was dying to be near his mate, to hold her, to comfort her, to support her, to protect her just a step away from him, but he couldn't, at least for now. The need consumed him and tormented him. Staying behind had never been an option, especially if it was his mate, but what could he do if that was what she wanted? He would have to get used to the pain, the emptiness he already felt in his life even though it had barely been half a day since he had found her.

Ah, Azriel didn't know how much guilt and pain he could carry until his knees failed.

He closed his eyes for a couple of minutes, laying his head back on the couch, his face settled in the direction of the ceiling. He tried to relax his muscles, stiff from the tension and stress, from the speed with which everything had happened in the last few hours. Maybe then he could get some sleep. He didn't know how it would be now that he had found his mate.

Azriel was beginning to feel his body going numb, the inattention to his senses and the lightness of his limbs, when a pair of light footsteps entered the room. They would've gone unnoticed by anyone, but not him. He lifted his head attending to the sound, finding you on your feet, frozen, all around the entrance to the living room, hands clasped together twitching in nervousness.

Azriel didn't know what to do. His heart skipped a beat at the sight. But he also felt the fear and nervousness coursing through the bond from the other end. He tried to send calm through his end, hoping that and the shadows crowding at her feet, which hadn't left her since they found her, would allow her to relax a bit.

“I'm sorry… for interrupting,” you looked down and Azriel had to stifle the urge that went through his body to get up and go running to your side. His head filled with the memories of his dream, cruelly comparing the happiness that was in them and the sadness that now engulfed you. Your voice was barely a whisper.

“It's okay,” Azriel stood up carefully and quietly, catching your attention. From the way you brought your hands to your chest, still clasped together, Azriel made no attempt to move closer.

“I need to ask you something,” you fought with the words until you finally told him and a current of panic ran through the bond, so strong that Azriel had to hold back the grimace on his face.

“Whatever you need.”

You looked at him again and Azriel felt something in his chest blossom. He sent that feeling through the bond, hoping it would counteract the anxiety on your end, but only received a frown in response.

“I need to contact my parents,” you asked, shifting your feet a little closer and Azriel quickly caught the pleading expression you were trying poorly to hide.

“Sure. Where are they? I can take them a letter, if you want,” Azriel offered, but your reply wasn't welcome as a spasm of pain ran through his chest.

“No… I-I-I don't want that,” you shook your head, lowering your head. The way you moved your intertwined fingers made him question how much courage you'd had to muster to come out of your room and ask him that. You must've wanted it badly. Surely it was all you could think about for all the years you were on the mountain. Azriel moved his hand from side to side across his chest, through the fabrics of his clothing.

“We'll do what you want, then. Tell me where they are.”

“Adriata,” you whispered, eyes glittering.

Azriel choked. Of course, former prisoner of the Summer Court. How would he get across the border if he had a blood ruby in his desk drawer? Rhysand and he were still mortal enemies of the Summer Court.

“And how do you want to contact them?”

“I want to go back.”

“What?” he coughed, his body tensing and the calm evaporating from his body in a second. Surprise narrowly prevented him from noticing your crystallized eyes.

“Azriel,” you implored, taking long strides towards him, frozen in place, electricity coursing through his veins from the way you said his name. “I don't even know how long it's been since I last saw them. Please, please. That was all I've ever wanted since I was captured. I just want to see them and let them know I'm okay. Please.”

Azriel stood there on his feet in front of you, barely acknowledging the fact that you had moved so close to him that from just raising a hand he could run down your cheeks. Your request had torn at his chest and he was sure he hadn't been able to keep some of that emotion from traveling through the bond, because now you looked more disgruntled and nervous than before. Now you wanted to… leave? And you were asking him to let you do it, as if he had any right to keep you here, as if you owed him anything?

The Shadowsinger clasped his hands at his sides, trying to contain his emotions behind the line, trying to keep them from affecting you too much. He had never felt such pain, not even something he could imagine, nothing that had ever hurt him before could compare to the pain of that moment. He hadn't had a moment with her and he had to let her go already.

“You want to go back… to Summer Court,” Azriel murmured, trying to confirm the obvious, as if you repeating it made it more real, as if he needed it to be sure.

“Yes,” you shook your head in assent and Azriel's heart crinkled as he noticed your desperation. Of course that would be the first thing you would want to do, how could he have been so selfish as to not even consider it before? How could he not have suggested it from before?

“You… I don't… I mean-”

“Azriel,” you took another step, hesitant, he could tell by your body language, but trying to keep the assurance on your face. “I need to see them. Please.”

“All right. Just… wait,” Azriel moved to the side, trying to clear his mind and think rationally even though your closeness was suffocating him. “There's something you should know.”

“I know the Night Court and the Summer Court aren't on good terms,” you shook your head, as if to tell Azriel that it was a silly problem that should have no bearing on your return.

“Yes, but that's not all,” moving his hands away from his already sufficiently tousled hair, Azriel looked at you in anguish. “If you go back to Summer Court now, I don't think you'll be able to come back again.”

You frowned at him, tilting your head in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Rhysand has held the Summer spies captive for…. many, many years. Tarquin has tried to negotiate their release, but Rhysand is not open to negotiating with him, or even seeing him again,” Azriel tried to explain, not overlooking the way you flinched when he mentioned the high lord's name. “If you leave now… If your parents declared you missing… Tarquin's not going to let you go out again. And they won't let me in either because the moment they see me they'll try to kill me.”

The silence that followed his words was agonizing. Azriel was terribly frightened. It didn't calm him to know that the doubt in your eyes was minimal; the desire to see your parents again was greater than the possibility of never seeing your mate again. The mere thought made him shudder, but if that was the case, there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing.

“Why… why wouldn't my High Lord let me come back?”

“Fifteen years ago the high lord forbade his people to return to the Night Court. Fifteen years ago no person from the Summer Court has gone beyond the mountains of Day.”

“Fifteen years?” you stammered, an expression of incredulous surprise taking over your face. “I'd been there for more than fifteen years?”

Azriel halted his movements, barely noticing how you succumbed to gravity and plopped down on the couch where he had been a couple of minutes earlier in complete stupefaction.

“Y/N, I'm really sorry-”

“I can't stay here,” you looked at him again, shaking your head in refusal and sending a current of panic through the bond. “I don't want to. I need… I need to see my parents. I want to be with them.”

Azriel shuddered at the desperation he saw in your eyes. He wasn't going to deny you that, ever. But he couldn't deny that he wanted to show resistance because, if you left right then, when would he ever see you again? They wouldn't even have time to talk about the elephant in the room, but, at the same time, it didn't seem like the most important conversation at the moment.

Azriel wanted to cry.

“It's okay. Don't worry. Of course you'll go see them,” he finally spoke, facing the reality he would have to live in from now on.

“Thank you,” you cried and Azriel felt each tear pierce his heart, even though the feeling of relief reached all the way to his chest, your relief, mixed with his hopelessness. “But, you… you won't be able to go.”

“No.”

“We won't be able to see each other.”

“No,” Azriel exhaled sharply and shook his head slightly. “But I'll work it out. Somehow.”

“You can't go near there. Tarquin would hurt you!”

Azriel felt the worry reach from the other end of the bond to his chest and was a little glad to know that you at least cared about him the same way he cared about you.

“I'll make an agreement. Whatever I have to do, I'll do it. I promise.”

You nodded in his direction, convinced of his words, convinced of his shaky assurance and confidence.

“And you… will you accompany me?”

You frowned when he shook his head, but quickly added, thinking he'd be mad and damned if he'd let you spend the return trip all alone after all you'd been through, “I know a faster way to travel.”

“Okay,” you nodded, calm finally ruling in your body. “So when do we leave?”

Everyone in the house had gathered to receive Azriel's announcement and things were breaking down just as he expected.

No one had said anything for several minutes after the Shadowsinger announced that he would be going to the Summer Court with you, to return you to where you belonged, to your true home.

“I'll do it,” Mor was the first to speak, to Azriel's right, watching him confidently. She turned to look at Rhysand, who hadn't looked up since his brother finished speaking, deep in thought with a hand on his chin. “I'll request a meeting with him.”

Cassian stirred at Azriel's left side, sweeping his gaze over everyone present. He could almost imagine what was going through his friend's head, helpless at not being able to join him, just as it must've been going through Rhysand's mind. Azriel knew the only reason his High Lord was still thinking was that. If it was risky for the Shadowsinger to go, it would be worse if it was both of them.

“I can go too,” Feyre spoke to Rhysand's right and the aforementioned raised his head in a second, beginning to shake his head in denial.

“For no reason should you ever step near that Court again,” Rhysand stood up, resting his hands on the desk and leaning towards his mate. His face contracted, contrasting with Feyre's warm gaze.

“Rhys, don't you think it's time to get this over with?” Feyre reached up to cradle his mate's face, Rhysand leaning in almost on instinct, betrayed by his senses.

“You want me to overlook so easily what he did to you?” the High Lord frowned, closing his eyes under Feyre's gentle touch.

“Not easily, Rhys. It's been fifty years.”

“You know fifty years is nothing to us,” Rhysand snorted, straightening his back.

The Shadowsinger clicked his tongue.

“It was too much for Y/N.”

No one in the room had to look twice to know that Azriel was tense, hands clasped behind his back. Rhysand turned to see him, his wary look of apology over his friend's stony expression.

“You know I didn't come here to ask your permission, Rhysand,” Azriel almost spat, dragging the words out between his teeth.

Mor shuddered beside him, following Cassian's gaze. In so many centuries, there had obviously been trouble between the Inner Circle for some time, but in this moment it felt different, deeper and more painful. The anger and rancor in Azriel's gaze was unmatched and to earn that facet of the Shadowsinger you really had to be a son of a bitch. Mor hoped she was wrong.

“It could be dangerous for you,” Rhysand warned and Azriel had to stifle a wry chuckle. The way his High Lord's features contorted gave him to understand that he had understood the twitch in his muscles all too well.

“I don't care what you think,” Azriel bellowed, clasping his hands at his sides. “I'll go with her, and since Mor offered I'd greatly appreciate it if she'd accompany us.”

Rhysand didn't respond, settling for sharing a glance with his brother, trying to reach a part of him that was minimally willing to forgive him. Azriel sensed his intrusion and angrily erected a wall of obsidian in his mind, miles away, forcibly pulling Rhysand out of his head. The aforementioned barely staggered to his feet.

“Fine, but I'd like to be kept informed of everything that happens,” Rhysand nodded looking at Mor, who barely returned the gesture and left the office to manage the meeting as soon as possible.

When the doors rattled and the room fell silent again, Rhysand looked at Azriel pleadingly.

“Az-”

“If that's all.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, Azriel turned on his heels and stormed off. Cassian followed close behind, barely sending a glance at his high lord, his brother, saying with his gaze how sorry he was that it had all happened and ended like this.

#azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar fanfiction #rhysand acotar #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar series

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piningforstan · 2 months ago

Note

I just recently found your page and love your work!!

can you write an angsty Stan fic where reader and Stan are still dancing around their feelings and reader finally gets the courage to confess to Stan but maybe overhears a conversation with him and Ford out of context saying he won’t date them and r is crushed? Then cue r trying to move on and jealous!Stan and then they get together somehow?

Thank you!!💕

I ended up placing this fic when Stan and Ford are still in high school before their falling out. I apologize if the timeline with Carla isn’t canon, I just wanted to include her. Also, reader is mentioned as a female a few times but this can easily be read as gender neutral.

I hope you like it!

You loved alcohol as much as you loved getting bamboo shoots shoved under your nail beds. But Carla “Hotpants” McCorkle had just broken up with Stan, and it was your duty as his best friend to support him. And if that meant drinking cheap beer on the beach with his brother, then so be it.

“I thought she was the one,” Stan grumbled. He crunched his empty beer can, belched, then reached for another.

You rolled your eyes. “You say that about every girl. Even that one you saw in a dream.”

You knew because you kept a detailed record of Stan’s revolving door of women, each declaration of love another stake in your heart. Secretly, you were pleased that Carla ended things with Stan. You could never date him in fear of ruining your friendship, but that didn’t mean you liked to see him with other girls. Especially not stuck-up bitches like Carla.

“I just dunno what she sees in this new guy.”

“He doesn’t litter?” Ford answered. He nudged the growing pile of discarded cans with his foot. Stan’s brother never drank, but he certainly lamented about how much the two of you did.

Stan continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “So what he can play guitar. Anyone can do that.”

“Can you?”

“No.” Stan angrily kicked up sand. “But I would learn if I thought I had a chance of winning her back.”

“You don’t need her,” you told him. The beer in you warmed you from the inside out, initiating the familiar tingling sensation in your legs that happened when you drank. “You’re Stan motherfucking Pines.”

Stan grinned at you. “You’re right. I don’t need her.” After slurping down the rest of his beer, Stan grabbed the bottom of your chair and pulled you closer. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple.

It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to — Stan happened to be very affectionate, even worse when he was drunk — but it still sent your pulse skyrocketing.

“I got the only girl I need right here,” Stan said, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

Your insides turned molten. Of course, you loved when Stan called you “his girl” but the sting of the words were especially painful in the wake of his breakup. You would never actually be his girl in the way that it mattered.

You could never jeopardize your friendship with Stan, or Ford. You had been inseparable since you were children, when Stan received a particularly nasty note about you in class and instead of passing it on promptly ate it. You took a likening to him immediately. And, since Stan was never without his brother for very long, Ford became the reasonable cornerstone of your friendship.

It wasn’t until a few years ago that you realized you saw Stan as much more of a friend. To be specific, when he successfully grew out his mullet and you fawned over it instead of throwing up in your mouth. On anyone else you might’ve. But it weirdly fit Stan, who you’d watched go from a weird, skinned-knee little boy to a weird, broad-shouldered man with dark curls that you desperately wanted to run your hands through.

Ford shattered the moment. “Why don’t you guys just date then?”

You’d both been asked the question before. It was expected, when a boy and girl were friends. Parents, nosy teachers, old ladies peering at you from wiry glasses. Usually the two of you fielded the question with various degrees of hilarity — “he gave me an STD” or “that’s my sister!” — but tonight it felt profoundly different.

Perhaps it was because you were so close, physically. Or perhaps because you had confided in Ford the secret crush you harbored on his brother. You trusted him not to tell but to hear it now, spelled out in the air, made you stiffen.

“She knows all my disgusting habits,” Stan finally said to break the silence, “I couldn’t trick her into it.”

He grinned at you in your peripheral, a certain softness in the corners of his mouth that weren’t usually there. You rallied your best grin back,

“Yeah, it would be weird. Right?” You chuckled nervously.

Stan, with unprecedented exuberance, nodded in agreement. “S’weird. I’ve seen you in your retainer. Could never fool around with you after that.”

Ouch. You pretended it didn’t feel like a blow to the stomach. “And you smoke too much. It would be like kissing an exhaust pipe.”

“See? It could never work.” Stan tore another beer off the plastic rings, drained it, then announced he was going on a walk. You watched his retreating form until you were sure that he could no longer hear you.

You whipped around. “Ford! What was that?”

“I’m sick of you two dancing around the subject. If you just dated I wouldn’t have to sit out here every few months when you inevitably get dumped because you’re with the wrong person.”

You groaned and slid down in the lawn chair, covering your face with your hands. You actually liked the smoke that clung to Stan’s clothes, the deft flick of his thumb striking up the lighter. Why did you tell him you didn’t?

You’re a coward, your inner voice accused. You panicked. It wasn’t like you could exactly agree with Ford, especially not after what Stan said about your retainer. Did he mean that?

If he did, that was worse than anything else. Not only did he not harbor a secret attraction, but he was repulsed at the idea of you together.

Stan stumbled back down the beach a few minutes later, to your chagrin. It was much easier not to think of him when he wasn’t in front of you; even like this, swaying on his feet and looking slightly green.

“Stan, are you —?”

He lurched and fell face forward into the sand.

Ford glared at you like it was your fault. “This is the last time.”

“Sure. Just get his other side.”

“Thank you again, hun.” Caryn Pines smiled sweetly at you. The small kitchen smelled profusely of her perfume and cigarette smoke, wrapping around you like an embrace.

“Yeah, of course. No big deal.”

Caryn looked at you strangely, in that way that adults did sometimes. “You’re always takin’ care of my Stanley. I know he ‘ppreciates it, even if he doesn’t say it.”

“I couldn’t leave him on the beach.” You took a bite of the babka that Stan’s Ma put out, chewing thoughtfully. “Again.”

Caryn always tried to feed you when you came over, no matter how fleeting of a visit. You had seen her sneak the food out of packages and container and pass it off as her own, but you didn’t care. It encompassed her parenting abilities — well-meaning but slightly manufactured, a desire to be the mother that she wanted to be but not exactly the drive to put in the work.

Either way, you knew she loved you like her own.

“Ya know, I see the way he looks at you. And you look at him. It doesn’t take a psychic to figure it out,” Caryn said.

Your face warmed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He’s crazy ‘bout you. I know my Stanley.”

“But what if…what if we broke-up ? I can’t lose him in my life.” Tears strained your voice. Here you were, admitting your feelings to another Pines family member except for the one who actually needed to hear it.

Caryn clicked her tongue and edged around the island, pulling you into a hug. “But what if it’s great? What if it’s everything you imagined?”

“Maybe,” you said, muffled in her side.

Caryn gave you a final squeeze. “I could only pray for someone like you for my son. Say, you don’t happen to have a sibling for Ford, do ya?”

You shook your head. Caryn made a gesture like too bad then fiddled with the coffee machine.

“Here.” Caryn shoved a steaming mug in your direction, then wiped her hands on her dress. “Take this upstairs for me, will ya? I’ve gotta check on Shermie.”

You stood rooted in place for an embarrassing amount of time, mulling over what she had said. What if it was great? Your heart jumped. Maybe she was right. You would tell Stan.

Emboldened, you crept down the hall and past the living room. The TV flickered ghostly blue lights over the couch where Filbrick snored, and you were careful to avoid the creaky stairs. It wasn’t ever said aloud but everyone knew in the house not to disturb Pa after work. He wasn’t abusive, that you could tell, but somewhere on the verge of it.

Stan and Ford’s voice drifted from their shared bedroom — Stan’s gruff, drunken mumbles and Ford’s clever quips lined with affection.

You were going to tell him. You loved him.

A hitch of agitation in Stan’s voice made you pause at the first step, just out of earshot, a silver of light falling across you from the cracked door.

The delirious, bubbly feeling of excitement in your chest fluttered uncertainly.

“Oh, would give it a rest, Sixer?”

“Stan, I just think —”

“You know how I feel about her,” Stan interrupted. From your vantage point you could see him sprawled out on his bed, one hand over his face.

Her? Meaning you?

Your grip tightened on the mug. Here it was, the universe delivering you a sign that Caryn was right. That you were right.

The view didn’t offer any insight on Ford but you could hear his desk chair squeaking as he leaned backwards, contemplative. “And how do you feel about her?”

A beat of silence, the covers rustling as Stan lifted himself onto his elbows. “She’s my best friend.”

“Uh huh.”

“And-And of course I love her.”

“Uh huh.”

“But I could never date her.”

Your blood turned cold. What? Didn’t he just say that he loved you? Whatever brief, sweet bliss you had went plummeting into the ground. You turned away, coffee in hand, unable to listen to more.

Stan stared up at the ceiling, at the water stain that looked like an elephant. Sometimes when he tried to get his feelings out, the words would run circles around and around in his head until he chased them down. It didn’t help that he had drank so much.

Towards the end it wasn’t even really about Carla anymore, but you. You, with your dumb perfect face and laugh. The way that you stuck around despite knowing everything about him, about his family, leaving him feeling raw and infested like an overturned rock.

His stomach churned. Stan waited for the nausea to pass, pinning down his words before eking out, “I would fuck things up with her. It ain’t worth it. Losin’ her. Ya know?”

God he hoped he was making sense. The room was spinning and the elephant was now doing summersaults.

“I wouldn’t let you,” Ford quietly replied. “I know you love her. I’d stop you from fucking up.”

Stan laughed, dry and brittle. “No one can stop me. I’m a one man fuck-up.”

“You’ve never been one man.”

Stan curbed his nausea enough to look at his brother. Really look at him. Any other given day and he might’ve kicked him for saying something like that. His throat bobbed. “Yeah. Yer right.”

A moment passed between them, one of those brotherly, twin moments that he hadn’t felt since they were kids. Ford clapped his hands together.

“My first declaration of not letting you fuck up is to tell her tomorrow how you feel.”

“What? Tomorrow! No way.”

Ford narrowed his eyes. Stan waved a hand and flopped back down onto the bed, resigned. “Fine, fine. Hey, can you tell that elephant to stop moving? He’s bein’ a real dick.”

After that night, you avoided the Pines family like the plague, dodging after-class visits and letting calls go to the answering machine. Your parents asked where your “boyfriend” was, as they lovingly referred to him, but it only felt like salt in the wound. Stan would never be your boyfriend. He said it himself — he could never date you.

You hated the heavy grayness that clung to you, and most importantly, you hated that the one person you wanted to talk to about Stan was…Stan. And you couldn’t. How mortifying it would be to confess something so life altering for him to say that he only saw you as a friend.

Stan left message after message, wondering what he had done and if you could. But you couldn’t bear to see him. You ate lunch in the girl’s bathroom and nearly sprinted to your car after school, peeling out of the lot as soon as the final bell rang. He tried to come by your house, too. Your parents, loyal to you no matter how much they loved Stan, told him you weren’t there.

It was safe to say that, after a month of this, they were relieved when you stepped out of your room in actual clothes. Your mother actually clutched her pearls. “You look amazing. Where are you going? Did you make up with Stanley?”

You ignored that line of inquiry. “I have a date. Not with Stan,” you added, well aware that was the follow up question.

“Oh.” Your mother’s happiness faltered slightly. “Who with?”

“Just someone from school. I’ll make sure they drop me off before curfew.” You pretended to be oblivious to their probing stares, kissing them each on the cheek before striding out the front door to the idled car in the drive.

A dark shape shot out of the driver’s seat and scrambled to open up your door. Eugene glanced nervously at your house as you climbed in. “Are you sure you don’t want me to meet your folks?”

“I’m sure,” you said, monotone.

Eugene had been interested in you for a while now, but you always hedged your answers, not wanting to commit. Last week you finally said yes. You needed to get over Stan — even though the first thing you thought of was how he would laugh at Eugene for opening your door. You could just hear his rasping, seething laugh. Pussy, he would call Eugene, and you would punch him.

Throat thickening with tears, you forced yourself to admire Eugene in the glow of the streetlights that passed by. He was classically handsome. Smart, kind. A musician. Everything that, on paper, would make the perfect boyfriend. It was incredibly sweet that he wanted to meet your parents and open your car door.

Yet all you could think about was Stan: his untamed mullet and cauliflower ears from boxing, the nose slightly too large for his face that was crooked from all the fights he instigated. The braying sound of his laugh and how he thought it was funny to snap your bra strap. The fact that, beneath the jokes and the crude humor, he was soft and compassionate and an excellent artist. He always made you laugh. He was a million things that Eugene would never be.

But Eugene was one thing Stan wasn’t.

Interested in you.

You shoved all of that down by the time Eugene pulled up to your date, flashing him your most winning smile. A drive-in movie seemed innocent enough. You were confident that Eugene wouldn’t try to make any moves, but you still directed him to park near a minivan of children.

“Want to steal some candy from them?” You asked.

Eugene’s expression shifted as if you’d suggested something morally offensive. “What? From the kids?”

“I was just teasing,” you said. You hadn’t been.

Stan would’ve happily jumped at the offer, distracting the family with one of his wild stories while you snuck a pack of candy. The two of you would then share whatever snack and giggle the rest of the movie over your cleverness.

You felt like throwing up. Why couldn’t you stop thinking about Stan?

Abruptly you shoved open the door. “I’ll just go get snacks then.”

“Wait!” Eugene’s voice was muffled, you had already shot out of the car and nearly closed the door. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I’ll pay,” Eugene said.

“It’s fine.”

You needed to get out. Needed to get away. Without waiting for any further questions, you slammed the door shut and stalked off towards the concessions. The night air was uncharacteristically cool, brushing over your flushed skin.

“Okay, calm down, you’re okay. You’re on a date with a nice guy,” you coached yourself.

“You’re on a date?”

You wheeled on your heel. Stan stood a few feet away, brow furrowed. His fur-lined jacket bulged with hidden contraband. “Stan?”

“You’re on a date?” He repeated, the timbre of his voice sinking dangerously low.

“Yes.” You raised your chin.

His jaw feathered. “I haven’t spoken to you in, like, a month. You’ve been dodgin’ my calls and avoidin’ me. What’s goin’ on? Now you’re on a date?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you bit back.

“You don’t?” Stan barked out a scathing laugh. “You just stopped talkin’ to me without any s’planation. What am I supposed to think?”

You stepped into line at concessions. “I don’t know, Stan.”

“Talk to me.” Your name on his tongue was a prayer. “Please. I can’t take this.”

A knot formed in your stomach. You ordered for you and Eugene then brushed past Stan, ignoring his protests. He followed you to Eugene’s car. You wretched open the door, intending to fling yourself inside, but Stan stopped it. He leaned down to peer at your date.

“Eugene? Really? This guy?”

Eugene sputtered. You gritted out, “Stan. Go. Away.”

Stan’s dark gaze bounced from you to Eugene, then back to you. The look on his face was unreadable. “Fine.”

The door shut with a resounding thud. It took all of your strength not to watch him walk away. You tore off the top of a box of M&M’s and shoveled the candies into your mouth.

“Was that Stan Pines? I thought you guys were, like, friends,” Eugene finally said.

“Not anymore.” The candies slid down your throat, suddenly dry and pasty.

“Oh.” Eugene pretended to fiddle with the radio, switching through stations. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Mercifully, the movie screen flickered to life and saved you from more awkward conversation. You kept putting handfuls of candy in your mouth to keep from talking or interacting with Eugene at all. Frankly, you just wanted this date to end.

Eugene respected your space, too, which only worsened your conflicting emotions of shame and regret. You wished you could apologize to him but you couldn’t form the words.

You were jerked from your self-loathing when a huge shadow played across the screen, disrupting the movie. Yells of outrage sounded from across the grassy knoll, until the dark shape on the screen split apart. The candy in your stomach threatened to come up. The profile was unmistakably Stan’s, confirming your theory when you twisted around to spot him in front of the projector, entangled with Carla McCorkle.

He grabbed her hand, smirking at the enraged onlookers, and ran off.

Carla? Again?

Eugene examined you. “Do you…want to go somewhere else?”

“Yes. Please.”

He took you to get Dairy Queen, then dropped you back off at home. The passing shadows in the window told you that your parents had anxiously been awaiting your arrival. Eugene moved to get out, to open your door again, but you laid a hand on his arm.

“I’m really sorry. About tonight,” you choked out.

Eugene smiled sadly. “It’s okay.”

You kissed his cheek and climbed out of the car, up the stairs to your house. Eugene waited until you were safely inside before pulling away.

School sucked. You were forced to see Stan with any number of girls. In fact, it seemed as if he was going out of his way to flaunt them, the lingering touches and kisses. It burned you inside.

He preferred anyone but you.

Another month passed, each day growing more and more unbearable without your best friend, without Ford, the reliable foundation of your friendship. With the end of school approaching, so was college, the awaiting jaws of a monster threatening to swallow you whole. You couldn’t even tell them that you got accepted into your dream school.

When a hand grabbed your arm, the familiar face following, you were struck with a swell of emotions. But it wasn’t Stan. The body was all wrong, the measured expression never once belonging to him but his brother. Ford’s eyes were pleading. “We need to talk.”

“Stan can’t know about this,” you said after consideration. Ford nodded.

He brought you into a deserted classroom. You lingered near the door, not sure what to say after all of this time.

“Stan is falling apart,” Ford said without preamble. “I don’t know what happened, but neither of you can continue like this.” A flicker of vulnerability crossed his features. “I can’t.”

You inhaled. It wasn’t fair to drag Ford into this, but it was hard not to. You could never make him side against Stan. “I just…I can’t do it.”

“Do what?”

You turned your face from him, ashamed. “I heard him. That night after we brought Stan home from the beach. He said…he said he could never date me.”

Ford’s face shutters closed. “Is that all you heard?”

“I didn’t need to stick around to hear about how abhorrent the thought of dating me is,” you replied, tone bitter.

Ford flipped open his messenger bag and rifled through it, muttering something that sounded a lot like “two idiots” before finding what he needed. He handed you a folded flyer. “Stan is throwing a party here this weekend.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“You should go.”

You glanced at the paper. The address stated a beach not far from your usual haunt, promising alcohol and a good time. Leave it to Stan to make invitations to a party like this, complete with crude renditions of women in bikinis. You clutched the paper. “I’ll think about it.”

Ford was halfway out the door when he stopped. “He really misses you.”

The words resonated with you the rest of the day. Sometime between meeting with Ford and that weekend, you decided you would go. Eugene told you he couldn’t go, he had to study, so you informed your parents you were going out and that was that. They let you without complaint, probably because you had been moping around the house the last two months.

Tonight you donned your best dress, black and sparkling and totally inappropriate for a beach party but when you bought it, at the mall with the twins, Stan hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you. There had been no reason to wear it until now and you secretly hoped he had forgotten about it so you could shock him all over again.

By the time you arrived, sweat had gathered at the base of your neck and dampened your hair. You regretted wearing the dress upon seeing the other girls in their bikinis and hotpants, and made a beeline for the keg to soothe your nerves.

The beer was sticky and warm. You sipped it, wishing that instead of being here with people you didn’t know (or care about) you were with Stan and Ford on lawn chairs. The usual. Instead you gazed out upon the rest of the party and found Ford, trapping someone into listening to his theories most likely, and Stan presiding over a beer pong games.

Almost as if your gaze was a beacon, Stan looked up immediately as you spotted him. A cord of familiarity, of affection, tied you together and you could feel its tug behind your navel.

Stan stormed over to you, kicking up sand in his wake. “What are you doing here?”

“Ford invited me.”

“He did?” Stan searched for his brother, who had conveniently found somewhere else to be. “Why are you here?”

“I got invited, remember?”

“Where’s Eugene? Is he here, too?”

“No.” You didn’t feel like giving him an explanation, didn’t need to. You especially didn’t want to tell Stan that it was because you were still in love with him.

His dark eyes hardened. “Where is he?”

“What does it matter to you?”

Stan’s mouth moved as if he was biting back a retort, debating whether to say it. He raked a hand through his hair. He spit. “It doesn’t.”

You spent the rest of the party drifting from place to place, never lingering long. The bonfire funneled smoke into the air, as inconsistent and tangible as you, a ghost on the outskirts. You’re not sure why you came, why Ford invited, why you were still here. The beer had given you a nice buzz, a certain looseness in your limbs, and you decided that was enough. You started up the sandy dunes, shoes in hand, when you heard the sand behind you being displaced by footsteps.

Stan followed you, silhouetted by the fire in an orange haze. “What do you want?”

“I’m walking you home.”

“No. You’re not.” You marched off.

He trailed behind. You thought that he might get bored or fed up and leave you alone but he persisted. Only once you hit the sidewalk did you furiously spin around. “What do you want?”

“I ain’t lettin’ you walk home by yourself,” he replied.

“I walked here by myself. I’m fine.”

Stan took a few steps toward you. “Just let me do this, okay?”

“It’s your party, you shouldn’t leave,” you replied.

“Exactly. My party. I can do what I want.” Stan drew to his full height, shoulders back, reminding you that without his rounded posture he cut an intimidating figure. But it wasn’t intimidation he sought, but protection — protection of you.

Your back molars gritted together. “Fine.”

It actually felt nice, relieving, actually, to walk side by side with him. He maintained a step or two behind you, undoubtedly sensing your anger, but you didn’t correct him. You stayed like that, your strange, wordless dance all the way to your house. When Stan moved as if to follow you inside, what he would’ve done before, you barred him from the door.

“You shouldn’t,” you told him softly.

His brow furrowed and Stan shoved his hands in the pocket of his jacket. The porch awning cast him half in shadows. “What did I do? I know you’re punishin’ me but what I can’t figure out is why.”

“I’m not…I’m not punishing you.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Then what? Is it your new boyfriend?”

“Who, Eugene?” You shook your head. “No, this isn’t because of him. And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“He’s not?”

“No.”

“What ‘bout yer date?”

“It was just one time. And it was a mistake,” you admitted.

“Tell me what’s goin’ on.”

Stan’s infuriatingly handsome features were set in determination. You wanted to go to him, bury yourself in his chest and let him envelope you. But that same feeling twisted, grew sharp teeth that latched on and refused to let go.

“Why? What do you care?” You fired back. “You’ve been so busy with your tongue down every girl’s throat that I’m surprised you even noticed I wasn’t around.”

Something shifted in Stan, a spark igniting into an inferno. “You’ve been avoidin’ me and ignorin’ my calls, refusin’ to speak to me without telling me why. I don’t get it. If you’re so against me, then why do you care what I do?”

You hissed back, “I don’t. But it’s hard to miss when you’re dry humping your flavor of the week in front of the whole school.”

“How do you think I felt when I saw you with Eugene?”

You paused, his words soaking into your skin. The fist of anger in your stomach loosened at the pain in those words, if only slightly. “I didn’t know you were going to be there, Stan. And I didn’t think it would matter even if you were. You could never date me.”

“What?” Stan’s entire body stiffened.

“You said it yourself,” you said. You were loathed to say the words aloud, which made you cry, which only made you angry to be crying. “You could never date me.”

“When did I ever say that?”

“I heard you,” you said. You explained to him how you had overheard the conversation between him and Ford that night. He listened the entire time, quiet and unmoving.

Stan rubbed a hand over his face. “You didn’t stick around to find out why?”

“Sorry if I didn’t want to hear how repulsive and horrible I was,” you snapped.

“I told Ford that I couldn’t date you because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. The last few months have been hell, doll. Going without you every day has been…unbearable.” Stan brushed his knuckles over your cheek, tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Please don’t make me go through that again.”

You leaned into his touch, eyes swimming with tears. “I’m sorry, Stan. I only did it because I couldn’t stand to be around you if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“Same way?” Stan’s mouth morphed into a tired, wistful smile. “I’ve loved you since that first day in class. Since you saw them passin’ that note and instead of bein’ upset you raised your chin.”

You faltered. “You love me?”

“Of course I love you.” Such a simple, genuine statement.

“Stan, I love you too. I’m so sorry —”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just told you how I feel. I’m an idiot.”

You touched his arm. “No, you’re not. Well, you are, but not because of that. I was scared too. And I hurt you.”

“I’m tough.” Stan lifted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. In his face you saw a whole lifetime of memories, of laughter. “But you gotta promise me not to ignore me again. Messed me up so bad that Ford said he saw me stare at a wall for two days straight without sayin’ a word.”

“You? Not talking?”

“I know.” Stan shuddered. His composure softened a bit, examining you as if seeing you for the first time. “When I told you that you were my girl, I meant it. You’re the only girl for me.”

In way of reply, you grabbed the front of his jacket and pressed your lips to his.

You had kissed before, in middle school, just to get the first one over with. It had been brief and awkward, his front tooth clashing off yours. This kiss maintained the same level of comfort, of familiarity and safety, but charged with a current of passion. He kissed you like he had been waiting his whole life to do it again, pulling you into him in a frenzied manner.

Stan’s tongue ran over the seam of your lips, parting them so that he could slip inside, invited by your breath of surprise. You melted into him. Everything about him, this moment, felt right. Perfect. His hands in your hair and roving over the form-fitting dress you had worn for him, sighing and muttering praises on your flushed skin.

You didn’t stop until the porchlight flickered on and the front door ensnared you in its beam. Stan still held you to him, lips bruised, frozen. Your mother took one look at you entangled together on the porch and then sighed in relief.

“Well, finally.”

#gravity falls #stanley pines #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines x you #stan pines x you #request #reqs open

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maccreadysbaby · 10 months ago

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Writing Tips; Dialogue

Does your dialogue fall flat, or feel thin and strange? Does it feel like your characters are talking like robots? Do your conversations sound repetitive and monotone? We’ve all been there. It’s a very common occurrence amongst writers. Here are some of my favorite ways to avoid the monotone robot characters and add life and movement into your dialogue!

In this post, we’re going to have an example sentence that changes as I talk about different additions. Here it is in its naked, base form: “I know it’s real I saw it,” Nico said.

Now, let’s hop into making it lively, shall we?

1) PUNCTUATION

Commas and punctuation are your best friends! Use them. Use the crap out of them. Many people will say commas can’t go here and they can’t go there, but I say, in dialogue, it doesn’t matter. If you want your character to pause but you don’t want to use an ellipsis because it feels too long, use a comma. Put them wherever you want. Wherever your character pauses. If your character is rambling or talking really fast, take them out. It’s your dialogue. Use any and all punctuation to bedazzle up your lines. There is never too many or too little of anything if you want it that way, folks.

Keep in mind, punctuation can change the whole feeling of your sentence and the way your readers imagine your character talking. For example, your punctuation should differ between an excited and a sad line.

Here is the example sentence, punctuated in two different ways. “I know it’s real, I saw it!” Nico said. “I know it’s real… I saw it,” Nico said.

Can you see how just the change in punctuation changes the way you imagine him saying it? Really hone in on how your character is speaking and punctuate it to show that. (Keep in mind that this is your story and your character. You don’t have to obey punctuation rules and writing stereotypes, your story obeys you.) Put whatever punctuation you want there. Use thirty commas in your sentence. Use an ellipsis after every word. If it makes your character sound how you want them to sound, go for it, friends!

2) ITALICS

Some people hate reading over-italicized works, but that’s their own preference. Italics is a great way to add interest, movement, and a characters natural inflection into your dialogue. (I freaking love italics.) Italics helps readers understand what the character is focused on, and how they’re speaking. Again, people will say not to use it too much or only to use it so many times in a paragraph… but the key here is still to write it how you like it. Italics can make your sentences sound more human and more authentic.

Here is our pair of examples, now with punctuation and italics. “I know it’s real, I saw it!” Nico said. “I know it’s real… I saw it,” Nico said.

Take a minute and read through the example dialogue, imagining each word italicized one by one. Pay attention to the meaning and context it gives it. (For example, if the ‘I’ at the beginning is in italics — I know it’s real — that could imply that he’s talking to someone who doesn’t know or believe whatever he’s talking about is real.)

3) DIALOGUE TAGS

Tags. Tags, tags, tags! Tags are so important! Tags are brilliant for clarifying and identifying exactly how your character is speaking and how they intend for the statement to come across. If you ignore every other tip in this post, don’t ignore the tag! There are so many different words you could use instead of said that give life and context to your lines. Muttered, mumbled, yelled, shouted, exclaimed, whined, groaned, whispered, and a ton ton ton more. Use these to your advantage, like an outline for your dialogue. The tag is undoubtedly the easiest way to make your lines come across the way you want them to.

Here’s the examples with different tags! “I know it’s real, I saw it!” Nico defended. “I know it’s real… I saw it,” Nico mumbled.

Don’t be afraid to move your tag around, either! Sometimes, in order to make your conversations less repetitive, moving your tags are nice. You can put them at the beginning, middle, or end! (Middle tags are my favorite, I use them a whole, whole lot…)

Here’s the example sentence with a tag at the beginning and middle. Nico growled: “I know it’s real, I saw it!” “I know it’s real…” Nico muttered. “I saw it.”

Don’t forget, tags don’t always have to be how they’re speaking. It can also be what they’re doing or how they’re acting, which can be just as telling as other tags. (I use action tags sooooooo much. Action tags in the middle of dialogue is my jam.)

The example sentences with action tags: Nico crossed his arms, huffing deeply. “I know it’s real, I saw it!” “I know it’s real…” Nico averted his gaze, staring down at his shoes instead. “I saw it.”

Or, you can mix them both! An action tag plus how they’re speaking for maximum impact and description.

Here’s the example sentence with both! Nico rolled his eyes, hissing: “I know it’s real, I saw it!” “I know it’s real…” Nico uttered, poorly stifling a shudder. “I saw it.”

4) DESCRIPTION

Describing the way your character looks, moves, speaks, etc etc before and after the line can further help your readers know how they feel about what they’re saying. This is especially important if the character is not the main character and doesn’t have internal dialogue. Body language can explain things voices can’t or won’t. You can explore putting these descriptions before the line, after the line, in the tag, or after the tag. Whatever you prefer!

Here’s the sentence with descriptive sentences with it. I did one before the line & tag and one in the middle! He was practically fuming, his eyebrows knitted so closely together they looked like a single strip of hair. His eyes were flicking between his friends like he was trying to determine if they were joking, blue irises blurred with a rage-fueled haze. Nico finally rolled his eyes, hissing: “I know it’s real, I saw it!” “I know it’s real…” Nico uttered, poorly stifling a shudder. His eyes never left the floor, and he looked smaller, younger as he spoke. His breaths weren’t exactly even, but they weren’t too quick, either. “I saw it.”

Look at those two very different scenarios we got out of the same base line! This is the power you hold, folks, the power to un-bland your dialogue and make it into something intense and memorable for your readers! The power to make it portray exactly what you want it to portray! No more worrying how your readers took that line, because you set in stone how it was presented.

Remember, making a paragraph like that for every line might get tiring or repetitive to read. Sometimes tags alone are good enough in fast-paced or long conversations, and sometimes, if the dialogue makes it clear who is speaking, the line can suffice by itself!

If you have any writing tip requests, drop them in my inbox!

#original writing #creative writing #writers #writing #writing tips #writing help #writers on tumblr #writeblr #character dialogue #writing dialogue

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erideights · 1 year ago

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Little pieces here and there (1)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: two, three, four, five

Word Count: 2,6K (i was inspired by god itself)

Warnings: none, lot of context (i promise the next chapter will have way less filling), light flirting

A/N: I HAVE ALREADY THOUGHT ABOUT AT LEAST 5 CHAPTERS MORE, I HOPE SOMEONE LIKES THIS FIRST ONE BECAUSE I'M ON MY KNEES FOR THIS DAMN CLOWN. Let me know if you wanna be tagged in other parts! (Side note: i'm spanish, so if there's some mistakes, i'm trully sorry, i don't have beta readers).

It's not enough to suddenly find herself locked in a box with 3 idiots she met a matter of hours ago, no; To make it worse, as it could not be otherwise, it turns out that she is in a bloody circus, ''kidnapped'' by a band of pirates that she recognizes as soon as she sees the red and white tent over their heads, the distressed faces of the poor people that make up the audience, and the costumes of the band around them.

She sighs, and wonders what the hell she's doing there despite knowing perfectly well what kind of decisions have led her to that damned place. Wanna know what happened? Let's recap, shall we?

(Y/N) (S/N). That name doesn't sound familiar, right? Very few know it but the reputation that accompanies the person who responds to it is very famous throughout the 4 seas. She is not a bounty hunter, nor a marine, neither a pirate or a pirate hunter, like the green-haired hottie with whom she finds herself in such trouble, or a thief, like the ginger who she bet, will escape running without looking back at the slightest opportunity she finds.

No, she's a mercenary. She doesn't work solely for money, otherwise she would go against the most bloodthirsty and ruthless of each sea, and that doesn'tt interest her, because she would put herself on the radar of both the pirates and the marines.

No, she is contacted through different channels, none of them direct, and if the job interests her, amuses her, or even piques her curiosity, she accept it. She goes after all kinds of people, whether they are pirates or marines, gangsters at the top of the terror scale or criminals who, like her, tried to keep a low profile.

However, and as we were saying, despite trying to remain anonymous, she is good at her job, a born strategist with an incredible facility to adapt and blend in with her surroundings to sneak into the most remote places, so her existence inevitably began to be noticed along the seas, rumors about this young mercenary with an angelic face, who only responded to her own morals and of whom few escaped to tell the tale.

And this is how she met that group of weirdos who found each others through the power of the plot's convenience; her last assignment was to steal the map from the Grand Line. There are not many, these kept safe and protected in large fortresses throughout the globe, and among all those that she could have tried to steal, she made the horrible decision of going for the one that was closest to her, encountering those three idiots in the crossfire of the disaster that unfolded in Shells Town.

How did she end up giving up the assignment and at that precise moment there, with them? Simple: Luffy piqued her curiosity. And there are few things stronger than (Y/N)'s curiosity.

"Hey, I know you. I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town, you're the clown guy. Umm, uh… Binky, right?" Luffy exclaimed, as confident of himself as usual.

Buggy, she mentally corrected, arms crossed over her chest, rolling her eyes at the same time the clown corrected loudly and dramatically listed his many nicknames. Which she was sure, only he called himself.

''Wow, you have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are.” The audience gasp. There's confusion in the boy's face, and an almost psychopatic tic in the clown's one. ''What did you just say?'' Buggy asks lowly. ''Just that everyone knows who you are.'' Luffy repeats.

''Nose!? Are you making fun of my nose!?’’

Then came the slap, like the one someone usually gives when a friend is trying to steal their food or touch something they definitely shouldn't. Buggy is killing the straw hat boy with his eyes but the gesture is so… innocent. She expected threats with knives, to be honest.

And because of the unexpected, she almost let a laugh escape in the form of a cough but she controlled herself fast enough to not grab unnecessary attention to her.

''What's real is...'' Buggy resumes the conversation, getting some distance with Luffy to walk around the rest too. ’’I’ve been scheming for months to steal that map from old Axe-Hand moron…’’ (Y/N) sees how he approaches her, but she didn't expect him to close the distance between each other so much, his nose almost touching her own, sharp blue eyes fixed on her from a slightly lower perspective. The truth is... that she also doesn't know how to tell if that nose is real or not, but now she really wants to touch it to find out. Dear God, what a realistic texture. It’s incredible.

Pressing her lips together in a contained expression as she shakes her head, she raises an eyebrow, letting him know that the joke wasn't as funny as he hoped, and he clucks, accepting defeat in such good humor that no one would say, that is a kidnapping and someone would end up dead by the end of the day.

She heard of him. His reward was not one of the highest but neither one of those that go unnoticed in the East Blue. He was also an eccentric, of course people talked about the blue-haired, red-nosed clown who terrified his victims in a macabre way. Those who survived ended up traumatized.

He is, or at least looks, younger than she imagined, and he fit right in with the urban legends of evil clowns kidnapping children and then dismembering them. She wonders, silently, thoughtful eyes scanning his face and body language from a distance, if this is some softie on the inside with high aspirations in life who was unfortunate enough to bump into someone who traumatized him and hence all this show and facade of the cruel and heartless clown -to protect himself as the good cliché he seems- or if, on the contrary, he is, simply and plainly, a yandere who craves attention no matter how he has to obtain it.

If she remembers correctly, there was also a rumor that he ate a devil fruit. Just like Luffy, which it doesn't take long for the clown to discover after Zoro tries to save the situation by showing off his reputation -obviously it doesn't work- and Nami does exactly what (Y/N) predicted. Not her fault, either, she doesn't owe any of them anything at all.

''Okay. Here ends the theatrics.’’ The lights go out and it’s then that everyone can small the disaster in the air. A chill runs down the back of (Y/N), who tends to infiltrate without being seen and avoids, whenever possible, a direct encounter; hand-to-hand combat is not exactly his specialty. And given the circumstances is impossible for her to know if the daggers she usually hides in the side of his combat boots -for emergencies like this one- are still there. ''I know one of you has my map, and I'm gonna get it back. What was it you said, Rubber Boy? That it was in a safe place?”

How long were they unconscious before? Enough to hijack the ship, get to land, and move 4 dead weight bodies to that circus, locking them in a box. By that point she would bet some member of the gang would have thoroughly searched the ship, and them too. Disgusting.

Buggy takes a last, attentive look at both Zoro and Nami, ruling out that one of the two has the map because when the girl tried to flee, Luffy was not shocked thinking that perhaps she would steal it from him. Which leaves the two of them, Luffy and her, alone with him.

''So, please'' the clown gestures to his subordinates with his head. ''make these two guests uncomfortable in the green room. I’m gonna have a chat with my stretchy new pal and…’’ His eyes jump to her, tilting his head to the side with genuine curiosity. ''this beauty that was incapable of taking her eyes off me.''

Fuck. Was it that obvious?

''Doll, you are the only one who hasn't opened your mouth yet and I don't think it's because you’re a shy little flower.'' He begins, circling around her like an animal hunting its prey, analyzing it, hoping to see a chink of weakness to attack. ''Are you bored?'' He asks almost in a whisper near her ear. ''Is that it? Are you so, so bored that you don't think it's worth enough interacting with the rest of us?'' Breaking away from her when he realizes she doesn't falter, he smiles a huge, threatening smile, looking her up and down in such a way that it almost makes her feel dirty. "Or maybe you're the one who has my map, and you're quiet to try not to attract /my/ attention."

She? The map? Wearing such tight pants and top? Yeah, maybe up her ass, but she's not the one who is going to tell him otherwise because if he, or one of his subordinates, comes to search her, she could take advantage of the opportunity to steal some sort of weapon from them.

In particular from Buggy; (Y/N) saw the knives he keeps in his coat and… she wouldn't mind taking a closer look at that interesting nose.

"Busted." She finally admits with a lopsided smile, raising both eyebrows when she sees the surprise on the clown's face. He didn't expect such a cocky response, did he? "I'm not the type of person who likes to attract attention, the spotlight is for others who are more... flashy." She pronounces it honeyedly, repeating the same nickname he used before, pointing at him with a gesture of her chin. "However, I'm not going to tell you where the map is. If you want to find it, come and search for it yourself."

Shrugging her shoulders, she stretches out both arms in a gesture that invites him to come closer. Bold, he thinks, more than pleased with this unexpected turn of events, taking some steps in her direction. She adds once more: "although I would be surprised if you hadn't already done it during the time we have been unconscious"

"Me?" He points at himself, stopping right in front of her. "Take advantage of a defenseless young lady?" He almost sounded offended if it wasn't for the shit eating grin and the eager way he was scanning her body now. "What kind of degenerate do you take me for?"

She scoffs, and Buggy, unsure, seems to consider -for some long seconds- whether or not to do the job himself, (Y/N) being too calm for how helpless she seems. But surely, he knows, she doesn't have any weapons on her; his subordinates were in charge, as she said, of searching all of them as soon as they were brought to the circus.

In the end he gives up, because he would be damned if he dared to refuse to thoroughly touch this mysterious woman who may, just may, have his map hidden somewhere. He strongly doubts it, tho.

Soon enough, he moves again, standing then behind her, and without asking permission, he doesn’t need it either, his hands start roaming her shoulders and sides slowly, making sure to feel anything weird between her clothes and the skin underneath. Like the fucking map, folded until it is nothing more than a small piece of paper easy to hide.

Because that is the whole point of that scene, right?

"Go on, be my guest." she says sarcastically, trying to stay calm and breathe slowly, because (Y/N) likes to pretend to be made of stone, but not /that much/. The pressure of those gloves against her already tight clothes and the hungry way she knows those -green? blue? difficult to say with those circus lights- eyes are watching her every move make her heart beat a bit faster in something she’d call /the average amount of nervousness when a known, wanted pirate search for something we wants while threatening to kill you if he doesn’t find it/.

Buggy, on the other hand, is so engrossed in his task that his usual cocky smile has disappeared a few seconds ago; he is waiting to feel a change in the girl's body language to be able to guess if she has it or if, on the contrary, this search will be saved in his memory as no more than a small pleasurable pause after all the stress that the goddamn map is putting him through. Because he can't deny it, she's actually a beauty, and in other circumstances he wouldn't mind getting to know her in a funnier way. At all.

Inhaling deeply, wetting his red lips with his tongue, he lets the air out slowly, tilting his head to the side to see her better. He should hurry up and stop making that scene as intimate as it's becoming, audience and all, but he's a thorough man. Or that’s the excuse -explanation- he will give to whoever dares to ask.

"Where the hell did you hide my map?" He asks melodiously as he finishes searching her torso, his right hand starting to go a little lower, getting dangerously close to her hipbone when (Y/N)'s right hand flies up and catches his wrist between her fingers, stopping him dead in his tracks. She couldn't help it, she acted on autopilot, she is not ready to be the main character of a porn movie with audience included letting him roaming all around as he pleases. "Not between my legs, so keep lowering your hands and I'll cut them off." she threatens, turning her face to look at him standing behind her.

Right back, as if those words were magical or something, the huge, shit eating smile of his returns to the lips of the unstable clown, and without letting go, he makes her spin, facing her with both hands on her waist, strongly keeping her in place, sharp eyes fixed on her, and without realizing it, she stops breathing for a second. "You promise?" He whispers, pleads almost, in an amused, delighted tone of voice after such a threat. She was way interesting than he expected, not as shy or scared as an unarmed girl like her should be. He likes that. A lot.

However, he has -sadly- things to do and he did in fact, already lost time with her. His eyes betraying him the moment they land on the girl's lips, Buggy winks at her with a cocky expression and pulls away suddenly, raising both arms "Another disappointment, how many more can our audience endure? You’re the only one left, Rubber Boy, don't let me down." He points him, moving closer, while (Y/N) just stays there where he left her, wondering what the fuck just happened and why does her heart run so fast now.

Adrenaline, probably.

"Take her with the others" he ends up saying to a couple of members of his gang, to which she responds by moving on her own in the direction of where they have taken Zoro and Nami before, preventing them from guiding her by force and discovering the knife she stole from Buggy when he got so damn close to her, and which she secretly hid between the waistband of her pants and her shirt.

Risky, she could cut herself with the smallest movement at the least expected moment, but it was way worse to see herself unarmed.

Buggy, infatuated, takes one last look at her and, raising one hand, waves his fingers in the air with a huge smile on his face as he says goodbye to her.

"See you later, love."

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #op buggy #one piece live action #buggy x you #buggy the clown fanfiction #one piece #one piece x reader

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roll-for-gaslight · 7 months ago

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While I think Sklonda is right to be critical of the Bad Kids and specifically Kristen, I think that a lot of the reason she did so is that she was missing a lot of context the other parents were given. We see in Freshman Year that she’s often given the information about their quests from Riz, several hours after the fact, and he shares clues with her rather than personal things. He doesn’t think the personal bits are what she cares about because, for him, that’s not the problem being solved. He’s happy with his friends and she only really would hear if one of them caused a problem. Her apartment isn’t a hangout like Seacaster Manor, Mordred Manor, the Thistlespring Tree, or even Gilear’s season one apartment were. By the nature of her being a single working mother in a difficult financial situation, she often was left out of extracurricular activities.

For example, Mordred is obviously a place filled with a lot of activity, and plenty of kids to give updates on said activity if something slips through the cracks of someone’s retelling. If Adaine leaves out a personal moment because she’s focused on the case, Fig or Kristen or even Ragh could fill in that blank, plus the fact that the other BKs spend a lot of time there means that Sandralynn, Jawbone, and Lydia are usually getting every side of every story. The Thistlespring Tree is where the Bad Kids go not just because it’s a nice place to spend time, but because it’s often directly tied into a plot or subplot! The power source in season one, the satellite in season two, and Gorgug’s artificer journey + the whole Frosty Faire thing going on now! Besides that, the Thistlesprings have raised Gorgug in a way that encourages open channels of communication about his emotions above all else, so he tells them what’s going on! Fabian’s parents over at Seacaster Manor haven’t been involved so much this season, but Bill Seacaster saw their bond from the start and taught them how to take care of each other and fight as a group, and Gilear has always been heavily involved in their adventures because all of the BKs have been emotionally invested in him as well!

Aside from that, she’s missing the context of actually being able to attend their quests like some other parents/guardians were able to in Sophomore Year! Gilear and Cathilda and Sandralynn all know things like the fact that everyone was worried about Riz and called him their little angel when he was gone and that Kristen saved him almost at the expense of her own life in the Nightmare King’s forest. She never sees them together, the way they’ll risk everything for each other when the chips are down, the way they all show they care in little ways all the time ( like Fig giving him the card or Fabian’s gifts in Freshman Year). She doesn’t understand that while “the Ball” may have come from a bully on the first day of school, it turned into a term of endearment! She doesn’t see how hard they’ve been trying this year to pass their classes and such, not because it matters to them, but because they know it’s important to Riz. He never even explained the whole needing scholarships thing to them! He showed up with folders on the first day, stressed out of his mind about all of them passing together, and basically decided to get their shit together! Sure, it took Kristen and Fig a little while to do it, but that’s because they were struggling to build better habits!

I also understand how she could think Riz does all of the heavy lifting: when he presents the clues to her and he’s their lead investigator, do you think she assumed other people did the finding? Absolutely not! She doesn’t see the way they put things together by focusing on their individual strengths; she only sees Riz trying to put it all together and find the connections. Why would she know that a lot of the investigative work was done by Adaine and Kristen in sophomore year because so much of it had to do with religion? She wouldn’t!

All this to say: Sklonda is a good mom for checking in with Riz, but she also has a narrow view of things that no one else has. If she were to be exposed to the BKs more often and actually pay attention to how things work between them, I think she would be much more understanding.

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legendofzoodles · 2 years ago

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Four: Try explaining your fight with Ganon or whatever evil was wrecking your kingdom, but without context.

Wind: Old-ass wizard kicks around some minors while the only other adult is a shapeshifting boat-man who prioritised claiming some triangles. Beat that.

Four: I’m sorry, what?

Wind: That’s how Grandma saw it. But I get it, he did take a few pot shots at me and especially Tetra.

Time: [remembering when Ganondorf, chasing after Zelda on horseback, stopped his pursuit solely to blast a 9 year old in the face and monologue]

Time: Sounds like him.

---

Wild: Appointed knight finally fulfills his mission after waiting 100 years to reload his save.

The Chain: What?

Time: That sucks, I only waited seven.

The Chain: What?!

---

Twilight: Local ranch-hand stops a nightmare induced apocalypse alongside an imp who’s a princess and a hermit, who’s also a princess.

Time: [clears his throat]

Twilight: After screaming at the moon vocal coaching from a ghost stalking the entire journey, who wasn’t a princess.

---

Sky: Local daydreamer wakes up, fights god, and wins.

Wild: I mean...did you though?

Legend: Yeah, jury’s still out on that one.

---

Hyrule: Mute kid brutalises pigman after assembling wish granting triangles, and saves the princess. He does it again years later.

Wild: You were silent back then?

Hyrule: Well, I couldn’t speak because I didn’t know the language. After saving the first Zelda she asked members of the nobility teach me- and how to read and write.

Twilight: Did you bite them when they tried to scold you for getting an answer wrong?

Hyrule: You did that too?!

---

Warriors: Pairs of powerful fighters from across the ages band together to defeat creepy time sorceress, then conquer red-maned wizard.

Legend: Ugh, the power of friendship. Really?

Warriors: Comradery, actually.

Legend: [mimicking his tone] Cringe, actually.

---

Legend: Which one?

Four: Choose your favourite.

Legend: [thinks for a moment] A scarf wearing hooded hobo breaks into my house on several occasions and stages a coup to save two worlds.

Four: What...were you doing?

Legend: [sighing] All the hard work.

~~~

Thanks for reading!

Masterlist

9th place in the LU character design ranking

Character analysis posts:

Hero of the Sky, Hero of Time, Hero of Twilight, Hero of the Wild, Hero of Warriors

Parkour team - LU drabble

How each member of the chain laughs - LU headcanon

I didn't know what to do for Time since I've already made the speedrunning puberty joke and I don't know much about Four's adventures.

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lockheed-martin-unofficial · 3 months ago

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Starscream is given a bath, Part 1:

First 832 words out of a total 1773 and counting! I never expected this would turn out so long, but I’m not complaining. Aircraft sizes and possibly physics have been ignored to make this fic possible. Thank you for reading. This is my first time writing Transformers fanfics, so I’m kind of nervous. Laying out my heart to you guys here.

Note: “partner” in this context means they are working together as a pair, not a romantic partnership. I’m writing as if Starscream has entered an uneasy alliance with the Autobots in S2 but refuses to join them officially.

Part 2: here

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“Okay, you can get in the water now.”

It was incredibly early in the morning, and the human had gotten up to drink some water only to see a somewhat dirtied up Starscream looking up at her through the window. The two were technically partners now, but they were still getting to know each other. It was a learning curve with Starscream, but he always seemed to respond well to positive feedback.

“Careful what you wish for, human.” Starscream had a suspiciously devious grin on his faceplate, and it only took a moment for his transformation sequence to finish and then the human was left with a full-size F-16 in her bathtub.

The vehicle mode somehow actually fit, with the landing gear deployed to hold it up just barely above the waterline. This meant she was going to have to do all the work herself, without any help from him.

“Seriously?”

Even without his face visible, she could practically feel that smartass smug look burning into her.

“Something wrong?”

“You know, if you’re gonna behave like a plane, I could always get the pressure washer.” She joked, the words accompanied by a smirk.

The rudder and ailerons moved suddenly in a slight panic, and the human could’ve sworn she even saw his wings themselves twitch, despite being in his altmode.

“THAT infernal device?? Do you take me for some kind of mindless, unfeeling Earth-plane you can just manhandle as you please?!”

His voice was filled with surprise, which over the course of his words gradually grew into offense.

She was trying to take him seriously. Really, she was. But there was an airplane. There was an airplane in the bathtub. And it was yelling at her. With a cracking voice. And it was five in the morning. The quiet must’ve felt uncomfortable to Starscream, because he chuckled nervously and spoke up again, this time sounding more concerned. He was using his kicked puppy voice, which he favored whenever he wanted to get out of something.

“You wouldn’t be so cruel… would you?”

“No…” she sighed. “No, of course not, I was only kidding.” The human smiled and rolled up her pant sleeves before doing anything else. She gave him a slight pat on the undercarriage, which elicited a “Hmph.” from the seeker.

“Alright, now how are we supposed to…” She tried, and failed, to bite back a yawn.

“I guess I could begin with the lower half of the fuselage… gear… engine intake…”

“I don’t care how you begin, just be quick about it! I can’t be sitting around here all day.”

She ignored the somewhat patronizing instruction, putting one leg over the side of the bathtub, and then the other. The human then reached behind him and grabbed a sponge, wetting it in the lukewarm water of the bath before pouring some soap on it. She moved a little closer, placing a hand on his nosewheel.

“Gonna clean the landing gear now. I’ll have to get all up in your wheel well.”

The reply came back uncharacteristically quiet.

“Alright.”

She stood up on the nosewheel, shower head in one hand while the other held onto the gear assembly. The human took her time, pouring warm water over the joints, the shock absorber, the steering system. The wheel wells, an area of the aircraft that were a mix between internal and external, made the differences between Starscream and a regular F-16 easy to spot. He was far more streamlined than his Earth-made counterpart, having little to no exposed cabling and appearing somewhat sleeker overall. He had several joints on the gear to allow better maneuverability on the ground, and it looked like he could even lower his fuselage closer to the ground if he wanted to. She repeated the process with his main wheels. The nosewheel’s well was relatively shallow, whereas she found the main wheels had enough room to almost be considered a crawl space. The human thought about these traits, trailing a hand over a thin line of blue light illuminating the area where the wheels would be stowed.

She didn’t know he had that until now, but it made seeing her way under the fuselage easier. Starscream occasionally shifted above her. He didn’t speak much, only commenting now and then on how long she was lingering, or that she was touching too much. She took notice that his tone of voice was not genuine. It did not convey the irritation Starscream usually made very clear that he was feeling. It was as if he was complaining out of obligation, as if he didn’t know how to feel about what he was experiencing. The feeling of being cleaned like this was…awkward, slightly uncomfortable, but not bad. Even after receiving a human partner of his own, he had never quite gotten used to something eerily squishy rooting around in his exposed parts.

The struts compressed without much resistance when the human pressed down on them, dipping the jet into the water.

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truthfulpoint · 3 months ago

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I just “unknowingly” fucked my gf’s best friend

Edit: story is split into 3 sections

1. Some background and context

2. The story

3. Where things get wild

Also sorry it’s really long. This just happened to me and I didn’t want to miss anything so I just typed as I recalled what happened. Also sorry for any errors, I didn’t proof read anything.

Some background and context:

I work mid shift at my work currently (11pm - 7am) so I have these not so great black out curtains that I don’t really use but I also have a sleep mask that I use a lot as it helps me stay asleep.

I have “jokingly” asked my gf a couple times if she’d be interested in a 3 some with one of her friends a couple times just feeling out how she would respond and she always said no without any hints of a maybe.

I have a couple kinks that my gf is well aware of. I love stockings/pantyhose/tights, whatever you want to call them. Idk why I just think they are sexy and I like the feel/look of them. I also really like being woken up into sexual situations. I’m always super horny right when I wake up and told my gf I would love to wake up to my cock in her mouth which has happened a couple of times but not often due to my gf not being horny throughout the day, only around the evening. Lastly we have restraints tied to each corner of the bed that my gf and I enjoy very much. We both use them on each other and pair it up nicely with my sleep mask.

I live in a one bedroom apartment. We have a queen size bed with a bathroom outside the bedroom and a living room on the other side of the bedroom wall. Our kitchen is attached to the living room. We have a decent sized couch in the living room as well

This happened today as I’m writing this about an hour ago and I don’t know what to make of it or if I should confront my gf about it and ask her (giving away the fact that I know what really happened)

My gf and I went to the same high school but never saw/talked to each other. We didn’t really know the other existed until a year after we graduated through a mutual friend

The story:

So my gf (let’s call her Sarah) had one of her best friends from high school come visit and stay with us for a couple days (let��s call her Kate). I was crushing on Kate hard in high school but never told anyone or made a move. Kate is about 5’4” with an athletic build. She played soccer so she had a nice toned ass and was very fit. She had long black hair and very pretty green eyes. She flew in Thursday morning and is leaving Monday morning. Sarah told me the plan, they were doing something everyday like going to the beach or downtown and I had my own plans so it was going to be a great time for the two of them to catch up.

Me and Sarah got Kate from the airport around 10am Thursday and got to our apartment. Kate said she was tired and didn’t want to go out and do anything so we just hung out for a bit and I had to go to sleep at noon because I had to be at work that night. I make my self some sleepy time tea with melatonin in it like I always do before bed bc it helps me stay asleep. Then I go to bed like normal while they are catching up in the living room. I wake up and start getting ready for work. I go to the bathroom to shower and see that Sarah and Kate are still talking but there are a few drinks on the coffee table next to them and they seem to be whispering and giggling more than just catching up.

I shower and then make sure to help get Sarah get Kate’s bed (the living room couch) all set up to sleep in. I say bye and go to work. I get off work and head home. It was a rough day and I just need to get some sleep. Normally I try to pull through and stay up until noon to stay on a schedule but often times I’ll pass out right when I get home. I open my apartment door and the first thing I see is Kate.

She laying down sideways on the couch with the blanket over her fast asleep. I try to be quiet as it’s 7:30am and I don’t know how late they stayed up. I keep looking at her thinking about how attractive she is. Fantasy thoughts come across my brain. I think what if I just came up and started eating her out or fingering her. I think it but I would never actually do anything like that. I’m very respectfully of my relationship and I would never do anything without consent but the sexual though keep rushing over me.

I brush it off and go to the bedroom, Sarah is sleeping too so I quietly get a change of clothes out the dresser and go to the bathroom to shower. I normally come out the bathroom in just my underwear but knowing we have company I put shorts and a shirt on too. I get out and go to the kitchen to make some sleepy time tea and see that Kate is already awake. The blanket is over her still with one arm under it and the other arm over it holding her phone. I guess I was more hornet than I thought bc I immediately pictured her touching herself under the blanket. I say good morning and ask if my shower woke her up.

She said no she didn’t even hear the shower she just woke up naturally. I start boiling water in the tea kettle and ask if she wants any tea. She says “sure what kind do you have?” As she gets up and starts walking into the kitchen. She’s wearing a baggy oversized t shirt and I’m assuming some short athletic shorts that I can’t really see bc the shirt covers them. I can tell she doesn’t have a bra on immediately and try not to get caught looking. I do t know about bra sizes but I’d guess Sarah has C cup. They are pretty decent size but Kate’s are definitely bigger. Not by a lot but bigger.

Kate walks over and I open the pantry saying “pretty much just sleepy time and normal green tea”. She stands in front of me looking into the pantry and I can smell her hair which smells amazing. She slightly leans over to grab the green tea and I can’t help but look at her ass that’s still so pronounced even though her shirt is draped over it. “I’ll just have the green tea then” as she hands me the green tea box.

I make the tea and we sit together on the couch enjoying it. Just small talk the entire time. Not any hints of any sexual undertones or anything. So I finish my tea and tell her I’m going to bed. I put everything away and go to bed. I stripped to my underwear, put on my sleeping mask and fell asleep.

Where things get wild:

I wake up not knowing what time it was (I’m assuming around 8pm bc that sleepy time tea really works at keeping me asleep). I can immediately tell that my underwear is off and I’m restrained. My legs and arms are spread apart and tied to the bed. I pretend to stay asleep as I know that this means sexy time. I woke up with a full on boner and no way was that going down now that I knew what was coming. I don’t move or make any noise or change my breathing but I can tell it’s still pretty lit up in the room by natural light through a crack in the sleeping mask by my nose. I can only see a sliver of my surroundings and only when looking down towards my nose.

I want to look around and see if my gf Sarah is about to go down on me but I do t want her to think I’m awake so I stay still and wait. That’s when I hear the faintest whispering from the living room. Right away I remember that Kate is here so my head gets thrown into confusion

“Is my gf going to do this with her in the apartment?”

“Is Kate going to leave the apartment for a bit”

“Am I supposed to try to be quiet when I pretend to wake up”

A wave of confusion rushes over me as I’m trying to figure it out.

I can tell that there’s two sets of whispers so I know no one is in the bedroom. I take my chance to look around without my head making too much noise on the pillow. First thing I see is my dick has gone soft after the wave on confusion hit my brain. Second thing I see is that the bedroom door is wide open! This blows my mind. “How could Sarah leave the door open??? What if Kate saw me?” Nothing else in the room seems off so I lay there and wait.

I hear the front door open and then close so I think ok Kate is probably going on a walk for a bit. Ok everything makes sense to me now and I can relax and enjoy what my gf is about to do to me. I hear her walk into the bedroom and sit next to me on my right side. She grabs my still soft cock and starts playing with it and stroking it. My gf Sarah is also 5’4” with an athletic build just not as skinny as Kate. Sarah has very small hands so it feels amazing wrapped around my cock and makes it feel bigger than it actually is. It feels good but I’m debating internally when to stop fake sleeping.

She leans over from my right side and slowly puts the tip of my cock in her mouth. It feels amazing! The warmth and the wetness of her mouth. I can feel her lips wrapped around my head and her tongue slowly going back and forth. My dick gets bigger and bigger in her mouth. She moved her hand from the top by her mouth to the base of my cock and then puts all of me in her mouth. I let out a moan. The cover is blown now. She keeps going all the way up and down. I keep letting out soft moans and start wiggling my legs around a little. It feels amazing and I want more.

Now that she knows I’m awake I feel way more free to move around so I decide to try and watch her suck on my cock through the crack in my mask but she moves right before I could look. She put her left leg over me and when I look all I can see is smooth skin right in front of my face. She is in 69 position and I’m all about it. I can feel her feet on my arms which is how I found out she’s wearing pantyhose. Right away that turns me on even more as she plants her pussy right on my mouth. I get to work and start licking her up and down. Then flat tongue going side ways on her clit. While all of this is happening she’s sucking my dick like never before. It feels amazing.

Normally when my gf and I 69, she stops sucking me after a while and lets out a couple moans of pleasure from what I’m doing. This hasn’t happened as she keeps sucking. One hand holding the base and the other holding my balls. I feel like I’m going to cum soon it’s too good. My jaw starts getting sore so I switch to penetrating her with my tongue. I slid my tongue inside her and it doesn’t taste how it normally does. That’s confused me for a second but I think nothing of it and instead concentrate on how tight she feels around my tongue.

She stops sucking when I put my tongue in her and lets out a moan. Very hot but her moan immediately makes me question if this was really Sarah. Everything started to seem like it was connecting. The blowjob felt better than usual, her pussy tasted sweeter, her moan didn’t sound like Sarah’s normal moans, and now I feel like I can smell Kate’s hair. I don’t know if I’m overthinking it or if I’m just imaging/fantasizing that it is Kate and choose to ignore it for now while I’m eating her out.

She gets off me and goes to my nightstand that has condoms in it, pulls one out and puts it on me. I can see her hand putting it on but not much else. At this point I’m like 70% certain that this is Kate which has me going wild inside. And just the thought I might get to fuck her has sparks flying inside. She gets on me revers cowgirl about to slide my cock inside her and that’s when I get the best view. I see her ass hovering over my dick. I can see she’s wearing thigh highs that go up to the crevasse her ass makes on her thigh. They are so smooth and have a lace design at the top. I pan my view up and see Kate’s black hair up in a bun and her slim figure over me.

Before all the questions about how or why this is happening rush in she sits on my cock. No waiting or beating around the bush she shoves me inside of her like that’s the only thing that’s been on her mind for the past week. I can feel her pussy gripped around my cock. She’s so tight, tighter than my gf. It’s very warm and wet. She’s so wet it slid in no problem. We both let out a moan as we were sharing this amazing feeling together. I can’t stop looking at her ass planted on me. Her body is amazing and I want her. I feel her lean forward and grab my ankles. She starts riding me like the good girl she is. A perfect tempo not too slow or too fast. I’m watching her dripping from her pussy as my cock keeps sliding in and out. Her moans alone would be enough to make me cum. She sounds so sexy and I love knowing that she’s enjoying it.

I keep moaning too and start talking dirty to her. I tell her to keep going just like that. Just like the good little slut she is. She loves it and moans louder and louder. I keep telling her she’s my good girl. I want to break these arm restraints more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I want to grab her ass and waist and take control but I can’t. She has all the control right now. Her moans get louder and longer which make me go crazy. Her pussy sliding up and down my cock has brought me to my limit. I can’t possibly hold it in anymore no matter how hard I try. And I dont want to. I don’t want to try to think about something not sexy to delay it. I want to stare at her ass bouncing on my cock when I come. Where I am is where I want to be. I tell her I’m about to come and she doesn’t change anything. She doesn’t stop or speed up she just keeps going and says “cum in me daddy”

I cum so hard inside of her and she stops riding. She’s sitting all the way down on me letting my cock reach the deepest part of her as it pulses and pulses spewing cum out. She’s breathing hard and asks “did you like that?” I say “fuck, that was amazing”

I don’t know if she has given up on trying to be discrete about not being my gf or just got too caught up in how good everything felt bc she was talking. Saying dirty things like cum in me and did you like that. Before I could dive into deeper thinking about this situation she gets off me and turns around. She still straddling me just facing towards me now. I’m too scared to look through my mask bc idk what would happen if she found out I could partially see. I feel her scoot up my body. She hovers her pussy over my face and adjusts her legs. She slides her feet under my shoulders and grabs my hair with both hands careful not to move my mask.

She doesn’t want any teasing or slow play at all, Kate put her pussy right on my mouth as I stuck out my tongue and started grinding on it. Moving her hips forward and back gliding her clit on my flat tongue. She let out soft moans and a sighed “fuck” a couple times but this time as if she was holding it back realizing she shouldn’t be talking.

She stops moving and lets me do all the work. I suck on it a little bit and then start going sideways with my tongue flat on her. I can tell that’s what feels best for her bc of her moans and body movement. I switch to a circular motion and that was the golden ticket. She moans so loud without caring who can hear. Her lags clasp around my head and I can feel them shivering. She keeps shivering and moaning for a bit and is pushing my head away from her pussy because I’m assuming she doesn’t have the strength in her legs to lift herself up. Finally she calms down and lays next to me with her arm and leg draped over me.

I can see her leg over my stomach. Her smooth sexy leg in thigh highs. I wish I could use my hands and feel her. Feel her entire body. She leans over me and starts kissing me. Another dead giveaway that she isn’t my gf. Her making out is way different. She stops and I catch a glimpse of over her breasts. They are unbelievable. Bigger than Sarah’s and more rounded. I could see a small freckle on her chest too which was very attractive to me. I wanted to grab them and lick them so bad. She’s made me so horny I’m ready for round two but she gets up and I can hear her go into the bathroom.

I hear a flush and the sink. Then after a minute she comes out and takes off my condom. She has a rag and starts cleaning me up. I can see she has changed into a normal shirt and short shorts. She finishes cleaning me up and sits in between my legs. She starts slowly stroking me with her left hand while what looks like texting in her right hand. I’m rock hard now wanting more of her. She pauses for a couple seconds with her hand at the base of my cock a couple times. The she does the same thing but this time with her sucking on the head of my cock. I can see what she’s doing. She’s taking selfies with my cock in her mouth. I realize she was taking pictures of it before the selfies too. This just made me hornier. The thought of her doing that seemed sexy to me.

She then walks into the living room after closing the bedroom door. I’m left laying there wanting more and also so content with the most amazing but of my life. After a while I hear the front door open followed by some whispers and quiet giggles. The bedroom door opens and my mask comes off. It’s Sarah and she started undoing my restraints. She says “did you like that? Did it feel good?” I tell her yes and ask if she did too. She said yes and told me that Kate just got back from the gas station down the road and told me to clean up and get dressed quietly as to not leave clues to Kate what happened.

I agree a see the picture now. I’m guessing it was preplanned that Sarah was to let Kate fuck me under the condition I didn’t know it was Kate but cmon it was so obvious. 100% no doubt in my mind that was Kate and it was so lousy how they tried to hide that. I’m sure even Kate knew she had given away her identity multiple times and I’m sure Sarah knew there was no way I wouldn’t figure it out but whatever I’ll play along I guess.

I go to the living room and we all hang out like we don’t all know what just happened. Kate and I keep looking at each other pretty flirty and now I can’t stop imaging her naked and wanting to rail her on my bed. Kate and my gf went out to a cafe and now you’re caught up to the present.

I don’t know if I should tell Sarah that I know about everything that happened and ask her a ton of “why” questions or just keep everything to myself. I want to tell her so I can ask why she was fine with it after telling me she wouldn’t want a 3some with me and her friends but I also want to not say anything because I love the taboo feeling. I also do t know if I should confront Kate about it or not. I don’t know if that would be out of Sarah’s boundaries or not. I also really want to ask Kate how the pictures turned out to see how flustered I can get her.

Any advice is welcome and appreciated as I have no idea what to do or how to play this situation. Thanks for reading and sorry if it was too long or if there were any errors. I didn’t proof read.

#fanfic writer #sexstory #story #hot story #female writers #exchristian #writer #fuck religion

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yanderestarangel · 1 year ago

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐌𝐊1 | 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 |

TW: smut, daddykink, afab anatomy, degradation, enemies to lovers context.

˚｡⋆.☆Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post, comments and reblogs are welcome♡

⭑BI HAN⭒

He wouldn't like your boldness from the moment you greeted him, calling him "ice head". You were extremely annoying at first for Bi Han to deal with your jokes while you passed the information via communicator and you smiled mischievously on the other end of the line, even with the man literally fighting to the death against the enemy force. He would come back from the mission extremely pissed off with you going full steam towards him, ripping you out of your chair and then grabbing your collar. He would say how irresponsible and annoying you were, he would look you in the eyes while you smiled saying that he was exaggerating too much, the fight would draw everyone's attention, including Liu Kang, saying that you were a good team and that you shouldn't have fights, making the grand master release his collar and walk away. After that, you two were sent on a mission. Bi Han even forgot what happened - in fact he was pretending so as not to throw you off the cliff closest to you-

You were wearing the costumes of the Lin Kuei clan now, according to your grandmaster Bi Han, he was going to make you look better in the enemy environment, he had never really noticed you, your face and body completely matching the uniform and slightly squeezing your breasts, leaving the man was confused by the feeling there, since according to himself, if he had permission he wouldn't even help you return to the earthly plane with him, but that disappeared from the moment he saw you smile at him after you eliminated the last one target, leaving the shadowy position he was in, laughing satisfied with his work while giving his hand to the man to shake as a synonym for "making peace", soon Bi Han realized that he was staring at you, making your small figure recoil and apologize because of what happened last time between the two of you, the big man would melt inside, but not even he knew why, making a quick nod of his head, then his deep voice would tell the two of you to go meet Liu Kang again. The great anger between the two of you towards each other would soon disappear - especially on Bi Han's part since you just found him a pain in the ass and annoying - the two of you began to slowly get closer, going from enemies to friends, soon with the great and feared Bi Han laughing at his jokes under his sub zero mask. He would never admit it but he loved having you fill everyone's patience and play silly pranks to pass the time. He would only really realize that he was in love with you when he saw you talking to someone else and smiling so sweetly like only you knew how to do. In his head you were teasing him - and you really were, you were also in love with your grandmaster and wanted to know how far that man would go in being teased by you - and he hated being teased. He would trap you in the closest corridor where the two of you were alone and grab his face hard, making you surprised by the impact of the wall on your back. "-I really don't understand, teasing me like that? You want to open your legs for anyone? I have a fucking dick that throbs every time you open that annoying mouth of yours, you should use it to suck my dick you little whore shit." -Bi Han spoke while pressing the erection in his pants against your ass, while your face was against the wall, you smiled mischievously as you tried to turn around and look into the eyes of the man who would trap you again while the sound of a zipper being opened filled the air of the corridor. "-I'll teach you to never play with my feelings and luck again, little boy/girl."

⭑JOHNNY CAGE⭒

You were one of the monks and he would soon notice your mischievous looks, Johnny Cage likes to joke but you were too much for him, too sassy, too funny and too sexy and this combo ended up turning into the man's dislike for you. Every time Cage tried to talk a little seriously with you he was received with irony and sarcasm and this tired him to the point of asking for his removal from Liu Kang's team of fighters, which was obviously denied. However, everything changes with an interception mission, where Johnny was in charge of going with you to get some information for the fire god, but a serious communication error occurred that could lead to the entire mission ending and several dead civilians from exo-terra. You two had been called by Liu Kang and you took all the blame taking the weight off the man's shoulders, soon after you two left he would thank you and his anger towards you would soon disappear, trying to get closer and you two would soon become an unbeatable duo - and also unbearable for everyone - The two of you always completed each other's sentences without meaning to, your connection grew every day until the two of you always had the right to eat at the same table, away from everyone and smiling at each other. Needless to say, he was already in love with you - and you knew it - but neither of you would speak until the other spoke first. Until one day Johnny saw you flirting with another fighter while running your fingers over his chest, making poor Johnny, he felt sad but full of hatred, immediately going towards you, grabbing your wrist and pushing the other person who was confused by it all, he would tell the man to stay away from you and then drag you to an empty room outside. You were thrown hard against the wall, then you looked up as Johnny took off his belt, you knew what was going to happen and you were loving every second of it. "-What did I do, Mr. Cage?" You spoke as you watched the man's huge cock pop out of his pulsing underwear, the tip glistening. "-Are you a fucking little slut, wanting to give your fucking pussy to another man? You have me, you know I like you, don't you Y/N? Will you learn to never defy me like that again?" -Him he spoke while watching you push his cock into your mouth, everyone would surely hear your moans.

⭑LIU KANG⭒

You were going to know him because he was a Lin Kuei ninja, you were sitting with your feet up on the table next to your grand master and he would soon make eye contact with you and kindly ask you to get ready for the meeting since there were going to be other combatants there. You would smile roguishly and look at Liu Kang with disdain, but you would do what he was saying followed by: "-Are you satisfied, my old man?"- Which would leave him in complete shock, looking at your posture while you smiled and the rest of the fighters would arrive, but he couldn't stop looking at you and you the same as him. Liu Kang really didn't know how to act around you, He tried to understand why you were so annoying and beautiful at the same time - even if he was the one who raised you lol - Whenever you two had to do a mission he would have to deal with with you calling him "Daddy" or just "old man" while he said that his name was just Lord Liu Kang fur and smiled slightly as he heard your laugh of amusement. On this list, I think Liu Kang is the only one who really hid his passion with dislike, he never really disliked you, but he needed to protect himself for several reasons. So he gets closer to you, even liking the nickname you gave him. He would invite you to have tea after a Shaolin training session. Until one day Liu Kang sees you sitting on a ninja's lap while he runs his hand down your back and towards your butt, he immediately goes towards the two of you saying that he needs to talk to you alone, he soon He would notice his mischievous smile and give him a kiss on the cheek, going with Liu Kang to their room. Within minutes you were already being fucked by him on the table while your breasts bounced as Liu Kang fucked your tight pussy. "-See you, moaning like a whore under me... Is that because of my dick?" -He spoke while thrusting even harder, his crotch and cock were soaked with liquids from your pussy but he didn't care how sensitive you were, he would continue. You moaned desperately calling him Daddy as you felt another orgasm come over you. "-My little whore... I love it when you call me that... I want you to moan loudly so everyone can hear that this pussy has an owner."

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ethanedwardsnumberonefan · 6 months ago

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Is It Over Now?

Rafe Cameron x Reader

angst, angst, angst

Word Count: 1K

Summary: Breaking up with Rafe was one of the hardest things to do, but at least you’d be free and feel good right? …Right?

A/N: I’ve never written a fic before um

And did you think I didn't see you?

There were flashing lights

At least I had the decency

To keep my nights out of sight

Rafe Cameron, a name you hear all throughout Kildare, not always in a good context but often with the name Y/N L/N attached to it. Since in diapers you and Rafe knew each other. Best friends to lovers is what it was, the perfect trust fund kids who were destined to eventually fall in love, wed and have the perfect fairytale family together.

It truly was all on that track before the small cracks in the relationship weren’t talked through and patched but left neglected and unattended till there were too many to handle and she cracked.

After the break up you took the time to reconnect with everything you neglected throughout your romantic relationship with Rafe. Your friends, family, yourself. This time was the first time you’ve felt free since you started dating Rafe, the memories and time with him prior that were strictly as friends were the best years of your life, and so was the beginning of dating him. Till you realized while Rafe slowly destroyed himself with his malicious coping behaviours of drugs and violence, he was also destroying you.

Consoling him and endless ways to help him always worked with him, honestly anything that was just with you. But focusing all your attention into making sure he was okay, drained from your duties to make sure you were okay.

Suddenly everything just revolved around Rafe and you couldn’t take it anymore. I mean, you took a whole gap year for him from university that eventually turned into two, which eventually turned into not going anymore because you were scared he was going to get himself killed.

Even after everything you did for Rafe including putting your life on hold, gave him no mercy to show he was “okay” without you. The rates of parties at the Tanney Hill spiked up and so did the amount of girls in the Outer Banks whispering about their amazing night together with Rafe Cameron.

Worst of all you couldn’t say it didn’t bother you. Even with everything you still loved Rafe, a person and love that you had can’t just be erased. Then again, your journey to reconnect with everyone meant reconnecting with friends, which meant reconnecting with the party life.

The difference between you and Rafe was at least you had the decency to keep your nights out of sight, keeping it low and minimal and not throwing it out to the entire country that you were now single and ready to do anything with anyone now.

Let's fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later

If she's got blue eyes, I will surmise that you'll probably date her

You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor

You search in every model's bed for something greater

Perfect, everything’s been “perfect”. Three weeks after the break up you’d say you’d been doing okay but some things just don’t feel right anymore. The high of being free was finally settling into the reality that you’ve lost your best friend and boyfriend.

Although Rafe was draining and depended on you like you were his nurse, he also was still your boyfriend. Or now ex-boyfriend. All the little things you began to miss and thoughts of “did i make the right decision?” Scathed your mind over and over. You didn’t think you could go anywhere without seeing something that reminded you of him, not even your own bedroom.

It wasn’t till a trip to the country club when you saw Rafe with an oddly familiar aura with him.

The girl he was with looked exactly like you. Her hair, her eyes, her smile. Irritation fills your body, you thought you’d been going crazy when the other night you told your friends the theory that Rafe was only going with other girls that resembled you but this really confirmed it because this girl was an exact clone of you.

Did he dream of my mouth while he kissed her? While he did anything with her? Because he knew well off in no matter how many girls beds he climbed into he’d never find anything greater.

Let's fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later

(Flashing lights) I was hoping you'd be there

And say the one thing (oh, Lord) I've been wanting (oh, Lord)

But no

2 AM, you’ve been at this party for eight hours in honest hopes you’d bump into Rafe. You couldn’t take it anymore. You were weak and missed him. Every thought you had was of him and seeing him so easily run off with half Kildare’s population was killing you. That’s why you were here. You took the entire day to mentally and physically prepare yourself to see him at the party and get him back. It was pathetic but you couldn’t take it anymore.

But he never came. You sat in the corner of all these sweaty people dancing and snorting drugs for hours and Rafe never showed up. You thought about calling him, or just texting him but even that was too much.

On your way out of the party you hear a ping from your phone and open it to a message from your friend that sent you Rafe’s most recent post.

It was of her. That girl from the country club. The girl from the club sitting in your spot, your hidden, secret secluded beach spot that you and Rafe discovered in sixth grade near the water that tourists and locals didn’t even know about.

Your heart shattered. Tears spilled down your face as you crumbled down to take a seat on the houses front steps.

It was so naïve of you to even think that Rafe wouldn’t exploit that spot. You knew how petty he was. You should of seen in coming. Yet deep down you were hoping that it would never get to that point.

But here you were, on the front steps of a random house party sobbing into your hands all because you truly believe that Rafe Cameron was going to come to the party and say the words you’ve been yearning to hear from him again.

I Love You

How foolish.

pt. 2…?

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