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baggebythesea · 4 years ago

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Here’s a little drabble for the day three prompt of Glitra week 2021 - First kiss. @glitra-week-2021

"Our first kiss?" Glimmer said. "Oooh, it was super romantic."

"Really?" Scorpia and Perfuma leaned in closer.

"We were up on Horde Prime's space ship and she had just dragged me out of my cell. I was all 'What's going on' and she was all, 'Shut up, Sparkles. I'm gonna beat up a shit ton of clones and look totally hot while I do it. Also, I'm beaming you out in space'. And I was 'What?' and she was 'I wanna do one good thing', and then, just before the force field to the teleport closed she leaned in and gave me the deepest kiss you can imagine and was all 'I've wanted to do that for a long time. Now I can die happy.' and I just stared, completely flabbergasted, and before I know it I was floating around in space, heart beating like mad."

"Oooooh!" Scorpia and Perfuma said. Glimmer nodded in satisfaction of a story well told.

"What are you talking about Sparkles?" Catra interrupted. "It was you who was all 'but before I go, one last kiss, I'll come back to save you my love'."

"Was not!" Glimmer protested.

"That wasn't our first kiss anyway," Catra said, ignoring her fiancé. "It was back in the warehouse, remember? I was all 'Grrr, what're you doing here?' and you were all 'Surprised to see me?' and I was all 'I got a whip here for you' and you were all 'promises, promises' and then you just started to blow things up and it was the scariest shit ever and I've never been so turned on and then you had me pinned to the wall and I was all... 'Oh?' and you were all 'Um...' and I was all... 'are we still fighting or are we...?' and you were all 'You'd like that, wouldn't you, Horde Scum?' and I was all shit, shit, shit, I WOULD like that but she's the enemy and we are kinda in the middle of exploding things here and I really should get on with that and then I just leaned forward and..."

Glimmer blushed furiously.

"And then you blew up half the warehouse," Glimmer finished the story for her.

"Yeah," Catra admitted. "You know, me and feelings..."

They laughed.

"That's still 'ooooh'-worthy, right?" Perfuma said to Scorpia. "I mean, for the two of them, all that fighting and exploding still counts as cute, right?"

"Sure it does," Glimmer smirked. "And anyway, if you want to get technical about it, that wasn't or first first kiss."

"Ooooh, you're right," Glimmer said. "It was back when me and Bow kidnapped you."

"Tried to kidnap me," Catra corrected her with gleeful voice.

"You were a total pest," Glimmer growled.

"One of my finer works," Catra proudly said. Glimmer rolled her eyes.

"I thought you were going to die," Scorpia said, voice shaking.

"Anyway," Catra went on, not meeting Scorpia's eyes. "I had got her all riled up and she got all in my face and was all 'stop being such a pest' and I was all 'or what, princess?' and she was all 'or I'll make you shut up!' and I was all 'I'd like to see that' and she was all 'fine' and I was all 'fine' and just out of nowhere she kissed me."

"Totally shut you up!" Glimmer said smugly.

"My mind was completely blown," Catra admitted. "Why did you even do that, Sparkles."

"I had to do something Glimmer explained. "And you licked me, remember, and I... um..."

She blushed. Catra stared at her.

"Sparkles!" she said, eyes wide. "Already back then?"

"What can I say, you were hot and took no shit," Glimmer muttered. "That was... exciting."

"Wish I had known," Catra mused. "I'd teased you to death."

"Maybe just as well you were too dense to get it. It wouldn't have ended well back then."

Catra shrugged, admitting the point.

"Anyway..." Glimmer silently said. "That wasn't the first first kiss."

Catra met her eyes.

"Princess prom?" she said softly.

"Yeah," Glimmer sighed.

They looked at each other in silence for a moment.

"Well now you have to tell us," Perfuma said.

"Fine," Glimmer said. "Only, it's a bit... I don't know."

"Yeah..." Catra muttered.

'My, my if it isn't Adora's little princess,' she had drawled. A solid opening. But instead of lashing back, the pink princess had just looked up at her with eyes full of tears and muttered to her to go away.

But Catra hadn't gone away. She had...

Ugh, she knew Scorpia was going to be intolerably soppy about this.

They had found a little alcove, just for them and Catra had held Glimmer's hand and listen to her spill her heart. Wow. Really, she hadn't manage to girl up in time and now her little boy played with another princess and boohoo wasn't her life just the worst? And Glimmer had snarled back that Catra didn't know what she talked about and Catra had snarled back that sure, the person she loved pick someone else. That was a totally alien experience for Catra and how was Adora doing? You know, Glimmer's date.

And they had looked at each other in hatred and really felt this was the correct time to storm off...

...but they hadn't stormed off.

And Glimmer had grabbed Catra's face and hissed 'Let's make them jealous.'

And it had felt like an amazing idea at the time (or maybe, in hindsight, it was just Glimmer's warm hands and flustered face so close to her own).

And they had kissed.

And it had been the saddest kiss in the history of kisses.

Any idea of them being provocative, transgressive, too cool for the people who had spurned them; had dissipated almost the moment their lips touched.

And it suddenly crashed into Catra how she longed to just touch someone. Anyone.

And it just hit home for Glimmer how much she was failing at everything. The mission. The princess alliance. Bow. If she couldn't even deal with a minor setback like this without falling to pieces and sneak away to make out with the enemy, how could she ever hope to...

Maybe her mother was right about her.

And they had looked at each other like fishes on dry land who suddenly had a great urge to communicate the finer points of higher mathematics but hadn't better words for it than 'blub', and...

And then they just held each other.

And cried.

Scorpia and Perfuma stared at them with wide eyes full of tears. Ugh! Catra had been right. This was getting soppy.

and... that was it.

They had just slunk away after that. Back to... their things. By an unspoken agreement they didn't talk about it again. Just a few hours later, Catra took Glimmer prisoner anyway and that probably was that for soppy makeouts in hidden corners and maybe that was for the best.

And when Catra helped them escape later on, it was only to get Adora out of her hair and to stick it to Shadow Weaver. Yeah. That was it.

And Glimmer surely hated her now anyway.

And when Glimmer and Adora ran away to the skiff and their princess friends and their precious rebellion, and Glimmer had turned around to look at her and their eyes had met, just for a moment...

"In hindsight, a lot of things could have been different if we just had spent a bit more time kissing before we... like, started to kidnap and attack each other," Glimmer mused.

"What, and miss out on all these happy memories," Catra countered with a smirk to take the edge of all the soppy feels.

"Come here and kiss me, dummy," Glimmer smiled.

And to the 'ooooohs' and 'aaaaaahs' of Scorpia and Perfuma, they kissed. A calm, assured kiss. Not the first, not the last. They had all the time in the world.

#spop #She-Ra #Glimmer #Catra #Glitra #fanfic #First kiss #glitra week 2021

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

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One More Night (Jaehyun x you ft Doie)

a/n : I am not forcing anyone to read this, this has sort of a sad angst theme. Jae was abusive here and I don’t mean anything to him.. it’s pure fanfic :”) sorry this is in my head and I had to let this out

warning : jaehyun is abusive but he is depressed and sad, doyoung is your manager. Sorry for curses and mentions of alcohol, cigarette, and self harm. angst

don’t force yourself to read this

You don’t understand yourself. Why aren’t you leaving him? After all he had done to you, his words hurt, his actions pained you, you always go home with bruises, but can you leave him? You can, but your heart doesn’t want to.

Like today, your boyfriend called you again to come to his house. Being the good caring lover, you follow his order. As expected, he called you because he had a rough day.

“I'm tired, i'm so tired (y/n).” Jaehyun slammed his third glass of beer on the counter as he sobs harder next to you.

You extend your arm, to grab his shoulder and rub soothing circles there, seeing Jaehyun broke down like this is more painful than letting him lash out his emotion to you.

“You're strong Jae,” you try to calm him down. He was ranting about his life, how his work life in the leading media corporation is stressful and he got a lot of complains from his director when he submitted this month's proposal.

“I am so done with that company. I'll probably get my white envelope soon.” He scoffs when he finishes his fourth glass. You swore you're confused when did he buy his alcoholic supply. Jaehyun never completes his grocery shopping by himself, it's always you but you never buy alcohols… so who?

“Tell me where did you get these Jae?” you point at the bottles and he chuckles deeply “You question unnecessary things peaches, don’t you wonder why you're here tonight instead?” he pulls you up with one swift swing and brings you to the room.

His breath reeks alcohol, his consciousness was below 50%, you were on your right mind until his soft lips enclosed yours and his hooded sad eyes pierce into your soul.

“You love me don’t you?” the same goddamn question. He traces a finger on your jaw and you choose to close your eyes. Staring into his eyes will only make you fall deeper.

“Answer me,” his palm reaches your cheek and you feel it sting. Here it is, his true self is always out when alcohol and stress consume him.

“I love you Jaehyun,” you whisper tears already flowing out of your eyes. This was not the man you know three years ago. You remember him as the sweetheart of the world, not the scariest man who only come to you for pleasure and ignoring you the next second.

“Then be my good reliever,” he slaps you one more time and the rest of the night you only wish no one heard your sinful noise.

“You're going home?” he asks the second he was tired of rocking you. His half naked torso is laying on the bed. A bud of cigarette was tucked nicely between his lips.

You nod your head as you take your time to redress.

“Stay here, you're my lover.” He pats the empty bed side. Oh you wish you can stay, but with the amount of alcohols he consumed and how your body is already bruising, you knew better to go home.

“I have a schedule tomorrow.” You admit.

Jaehyun sighs “Then sleep here, I'll drive you there tomorrow. I miss you,” he sounds like he had sober up.

You shake your head and lean over to kiss him “You hate my agency Jae, don’t force yourself to come with me.” You run a hand over his hair. He leans into your touch, suddenly the angelic heart throb is here again not the demon of the dark side. He closes his eyes after yawning and slowly drift to sleep.

You take his cigarette bud, turn it off in the ash tray and leave the apartment you once love. Your relationship is toxic but you cannot let him go. Not in this state.

“Wow you do know how late this is?” Your roommate peeks over his room door when he heard you enter the house.

You sigh and take off your jacket “Ah Doyoung, yes it’s very late. Sorry for waking you up. Go to bed you still have time.”

Doyoung shakes his sleep away and walks to you. He knows your relationship with Jaehyun. He was there from the beginning until the time it went wrong. He told you to leave him already, but you cannot.

The man grabs his spectacles and calmly takes your arms and wrists then he twists your body to check your condition.

“He wasn’t that rough tonight?” Doyoung still raises from his seat to take the soothing cream he has prepared for you.

You sigh “You don’t have to do this Doie, I can take care of myself.”

He scoffs “You've been saying that for the last seven months but you never for once take care of yourself if I don’t do this.”

He begins with the bruises on your wrists, the red cheeks, the wild hickeys on your neck and when he ensures none is skipped, he orders you to lift your shirt up.

He always complains on how your waist can survive the dead grip Jaehyun has, they always leave bruises on your body and Doyoung hates how you always struggle in the morning to cover up your bruises.

“You should really leave him. This is not good for your body and mental.” He presses some alcohol on the open wound and you for once thank Heaven you knew Doyoung who can take care of you.

“I cannot Doie, he needs me. He said I am the reason he is holding on.” You lean to the sofa and moan at the delight of relaxing your body.

“gosh your silly job and crazy company.” He hisses

You bite your lips as you stare into the ceiling. This is your job, taking cover pictures for special magazines. No it’s not filled with lewd pictures nor nudes, just regular pictures that were found to be able to comfort men and women who are breaking down and sad. The company did get a lot of money and you have many fans. All of them have been meeting you virtually and telling you how thankful they are to see you. They said seeing you helps them overcome one more day.

You were not fond of your job at first, until you met Jaehyun a photographer for one of your biggest project. It’s for the anti depression campaign and since then both of you got to know each other. Jae was a lovely man who also tells you he is one of those subscribers who wants to thank your cute pictures for helping them survive and stop overthinking.

That comment and all comments and love mails from your fans made you unable to crawl out of this hole. Doyoung is not one of them, he is assigned to look after you but he detests everything related to this. It’s just his job and the wage is pretty much high and he couldn’t find another job with higher wage yet.

Jaehyun was good until six months ago he lost his one and only family member, then he regret all of the things he couldn’t do for them. He turned into a mess, your pictures, your comfort words, your presence itself cannot bring him back. He turned into a monster when he's sad and mad. What happened to him scared you, but your heart cannot leave him.

“It's not silly as long as I can live under this apartment Doie. Look around this pretty apartment is good enough for a payback.” You breathe out. Feeling also emotional after thinking about Jaehyun and holding back the pain you're now feeling.

“You have a schedule tomorrow.” He scrolls his phone and notes the time. He is your personal manager.

“I know-“ before you can finish your sentence a knock was heard on the door.

Both of you look at the door and gulp “Who could it be?” your grip on Doyoung’s hand and your phone rang.

“Shit, it’s Jae.” You push Doyoung out of the sofa and push him to his room direction “Pretend you’re asleep.” You send him a pleading eye, you don’t need a jealous Jaehyun at this moment.

Doyoung just follows your words and hide in his room. You calm yourself down and open the door to find Jaehyun not so sobber, but he is here and you’re surprised he could take a cab here.

“I took the cab, don’t worry. I cannot sleep without you.” He nuzzles into your neck and slumps over your smaller body. With much struggle both of you made it to the sofa and Jaehyun is super messy.

His eyes are wet and he was slurring words while closing his eyes and holding on to you tight “Don’t leave me. Come stay with me again. Why did you leave me?”

He sounds pathetic and you actually want to slap him and yell at him “See yourself and think why I live by myself now or at least not with you….” But you know that will only hurt him more and break him.

“Shh calm down Jae” you card his hair and he relaxes into your touch “I am not leaving you,” at least now your heart whispers. Your eyes fall to his wrist that has been healing slowly from nasty cuts and you plant a quick kiss on his wrist “I am proud of you being strong, stay with me too Jaehyun.”

“If getting hurt is what makes you stay a night more, I’ll bear it with you. Please don’t leave me.” Your tear fell and you kiss his cheek. He did not hear your last sentence for his chest has risen slowly and he fell asleep.

You glance to the half open door, of course Doyoung had to be eavesdropping. He tosses you a free blanket and you’re thankful for his quick wit. You cover Jaehyun up and leave to sleep in your own room. What tomorrow brings, you never know. But tonight, you’re glad at least you help Jaehyun overcome one of his dark nights again.

end

i hope no one has to go through this scenario irl..

reach out for help okay, whenever you feel lonely don’t let the loneliness win over you. you should fight back, or find someone to accompany you

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ofdogsandchocolate · 4 years ago

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‘Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

-He promised her they were forever. And they were, Till they weren't.-

Young, dumb, and in love. That's what Percy and Annabeth were. They were fourteen when they got together. Previously best friends since birth, but they both had formed a crush on each other. She asked him to the Halloween dance, and they both slowly started falling after that. Falling in love, that is. Annabeth had been told that it was scary, falling. That it's something you'll regret, that you'll come out empty handed. That you won't be able to get back up if you do. But, she couldn't help it. One look into his sea green eyes, and she was gone. Sometimes, though, she did get scared. Scared that he would leave her for someone else, like his father left her mother. Scared that he would change into a person she couldn't love, or vice-versa. But, Percy would just hold her close, and promise her that he wouldn't leave her. That they would be forever. She wanted to believe him, so she did. They battled the struggles of high school together, as well as got accepted to the same college. A college both of them dreamed of attending. Annabeth was waiting for some higher force to come down, and tell her all this had been a simulation. She was leading a life the rom-com girls wished they had. She was 18, and was still in love with her one and only. High school couldn't separate them, and so far college hadn't, so what couldn't they overcome together? They were forever, they always would be. Things were good. Really, really, great.

o.0.o

College was hard, money was tight, and people were mean, but Percy and Annabeth got through it.

Four years of college was enough for them, and they already had decently paying jobs, so they were all on their own. No school, or superiors to guide them. They were finally full fledged adults.

Annabeth thinks Percy must have not gotten the que, because he sure acted childish sometimes.

The two of them had been trying to bake cookies, but neither of them were meant for the kitchen. Flour was all over the place, the counter was stained faintly blue in one spot, and the apartment smelt of...burnt-ness.

As the blonde Woman took her oven mitted hand and retrieved the tray from the hot oven, Percy coughed.

"God, woman! You burnt out cookies!"

Annabeth rolled her eyes, and slams the hot tray onto the stove top, the cookies that were supposed to be blue, a greenish brown color. She placed a hand on her hip, and turned to her boyfriend.

"Maybe if you hadn't forgot the baking soda, they would've turned out a little better."

The man mock gasped, "How could you blame this on me! You're the one who added all that salt. It only called for half a teaspoon!" Annabeth violently untied the lady-bug apron that, was much to small for her, and threw it over at the guy.

"You idiot-"

Her sentence was interrupted by flour. Flour that Percy threw at her. Flour that landed right into her mouth.

If you didn't know, flour doesn't taste all that great.

The woman started to cough violently. It was so dry, she couldn't swallow it, but it was sticking to the insider of her mouth aswell.

Annabeth reached around herself, trying to get a handful of flour to throw back at Percy. She finds the back of brown sugar instead, but figures it should do.

She threw a handful of the sugar blindly towards were Percy's voice was coming from.

"Ah!"

The blonde, who's hair actually looked more white than blonde at the moment, groaned as Percy began to laugh. It must have been super funny, watching her struggle. She wiped the flour from her eyes, so that she could see. Percy was standing at the Island, rapidly scooping up more flour into his hands.

Annabeth chuckled darkly.

"Oh, it's on."

Let's just say, the two of them were finding floor everywhere, for months.

o.0.o

One Saturday Morning, Annabeth and Percy were laying in their bed.

The bed that they shared.

They were both crammed over to one side, Annabeth head in the crook of his armpit, with Percy's hand resting upon it, combing through her golden curls.

It didn't particularly smell like roses, but it was nice.

She didn't know, since she was staring up at the ceiling wordlessly, but Percy was smiling widely at her.

He didn't understand how someone could be so beautiful, inside and out. And, how someone like her could ever love someone like him. He thought about the glittering diamond ring that sat in his underwear drawer. The ring he bought 2 years ago, when he was 22.

He was planning on popping the question soon. But, he was patient. He wanted it to be perfect, for her.

Percy turns back to Annabeth, who was now staring back at him. They smile at each other.

"Penny for your thoughts," she said turning over on her side, to get a better look at him. Percy followed in her movements. "You, of course," he exclaimed booping her nose with his pointer finger.

Annabeth laughed. "Well, I would hope so. You sure your not thinking of anything else? Anybody else?"

Percy knew she was joking, but Percy took it to himself to answer seriously. "No. I'm thinking of...forever."

The two held eye contact as a smile grew onto Annabeths face. "I like the way you think, Mr. Jackson."

Percy smiled. "Yes, me and Ms. O'Leary shall have a wonderful life together."

Annabeth snorted, and shoved her face into the pillows. "Yes! I wish you two the best of luck," she said, her voice muffled by the pillows.

Percy laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"I love you."

Annabeth took her face out of the pillows to look at him. "Right back at ya."

o.0.o

It was a month later, and Percy and Annabeth were ready for a movie marathon.

(They both immediately agreed Harry Potter, for obvious reasons.)

Once they were all situated on the couch, Annabeth scrolling through the TV, Percy spoke.

"We don't have ice cream, do we?"

Annabeth's eyes stayed put on the television. "No. We finished it the other night."

He thought for a moment, before getting up from the couch and slipping on his shoes.

His girlfriend finally looked over too him, her eyebrows raised. "Um...were do you think you're going, mister?"

Percy looked back at her, smiling as he pulled on his coat. "Getting us ice-cream, of course."

He walked back over to Annabeth, who was now propped up on her elbows, and presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Blackberry rebel?"

"Blackberry rebel."

He gave a chaste kiss to his girlfriends lips, before walking back over to the door to their apartment.

"Don't start it without me!" He called out as he reached for the door nob.

It didn't feel any different from the other times Percy had gone out to fetch something. It felt normal. It was normal.

Right?

Then why did Annabeth feel so anxious all of a sudden? She got chills, but she told herself it was nothing.

Until she couldn't.

"Hey!"

Percy spun his hear around back to Annabeth, who was sitting all the way up. Her heart was racing, but she didn't know why.

Her boyfriend looked at her warily. "What? Is everything ok?"

Annabeth nodded uncertainly. "Um...yeah. Yes, I'm fine, just...be careful. It's dark."

Percy nodded, and reopened the door. Once it was all the way open, he threw his head over his shoulder.

"I love you."

Annabeth tried her best to calm down her heart, and give him a smile.

"I love you too."

The scariest thing, is that it felt like a goodbye.

o.0.o

An hour and 30 minutes. It should not take him that long to drive to the market down the block and get ice cream.

Annabeth paced around the living room.

Were is he? Is he okay? What if-

No. No, he's fine.

o.0.o

He wasn't fine.

Hours passed, and he still hadn't show up. Annabeth crossed her fingers, and wished that he would appear. That he would walk in the door, plastic bag with Ice-cream and pretzels, unharmed and happy.

That wasn't the case.

Annabeth was at the point were she was grabbing her keys frantically try to get out of the apartment, and trying to find Percy. Just as she walked toward the door, a rang was heard from the couch.

My phone. It could be Percy.

She sprints across the living room, and searches through the blankets and crevasses of the couch, to find the vibrating device in between the cushions.

East Coast Emergency Center.

A hospital?

Annabeth's mind thought the worst, and she answers shakily.

"H-hello?"

The feminine voice on the other side said, "Hello. I's this Annabeth Chase?"

A scared sob rose in the woman's throat, her chest tightening. "This is her."

The person sighed. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but your partner Percy has been in a car accident."

Annabeth gasped, a hand coming to her mouth. Tears started to form in her eyes, as she said. "What- Um. Is he okay?"

"Sadly, he was gone when the ambulance found him. I am- so, sorry."

Annabeth cried as she began to crouch on the floor. "Oh my- I- I- Ill be there as quickly as I can," her voice wobbled off as she hung up.

She was in shock as she drove to the hospital. Sobbing, but not particularly thinking straight. It felt unreal. 15 minutes prior, she just thought Percy had gotten mugged, but-

He was gone.

Percy was gone and their forever was over.

o.0.o

seven years later

o.0.o

Annabeth liked to dive through the suburbs sometimes.

To see the life she could of had, and cry, and laugh, and just think.

She also visited the cemetery from time to time. Not as much as she used to, but a couple times a year.

Her friends had told her she should move on, that it just wasn't meant to be. But they didn't know him like she did. They didn't know how important she was to him.

So, Annabeth still visited him. Put blue flowers on his grave, sometimes talked, sometimes wrote a little note.

She didn't know if he heard, or if he was even there, but it felt nice, just imagining that he did.

Annabeth looked down at the soft gray stone, and the little trinkets and flowers scattered along he bottom. She smiled, as she reached into her pocket to take out the small enveloped note.

She kissed it lightly, before setting it down lightly at the base of the stone. Straightening her back, he took one long breath, her eyes stinging. But this time, with happy tears.

"I love you, Seaweed Brain."

And it finally feels like a proper farewell.

o.0.o

Hi, Percy.

How are you? I hope you're well. I'm okay, thanks for asking.

I haven't seen you in so long, I don't really know what to say. Which hurts to think, since you were such a large part of my life. Which also hurts to think about, because you aren't that anymore. I don't think of you everyday, and it scares me. You're face isn't always on my mind, and I hate it. I know you would want me to move on, and while I care deeply about your opinion, I deem that stupid. I know its been a long time. Hell, I'm 30. Can you believe that? An actual grown-up.

I might find another person, at one point i time, but I will always love you. Because, well, how can I not? I always hated how easily you made me love you. One of your worse traits, for sure.

Anyways, what I'm trying to do here is a...final goodbye. A way were I can finally try to let you go, or at least partially. I've just held onto you in my stubborn mind, and I think it's time to try and get better.

Because I know it's what you would have wanted.

I never got to say goodbye to you, and I think that's the hardest part for me. That I never got to see you one last time.

So, this is it. This is me, letting you go.

I think it's the best for the both of us. Not necessarily to move on, but to start healing.

We got our forever. Our little forever that only us got to live. Thank you for that.

Goodbye, Percy Jackson. I had a lovely little forever with you.

o.0.o.0.o.0.o

I seriously have no idea if this is the type of stuff you post on tumblr, but...here I am! Yeah, just a little thing I wrote.

(Very much based off of Drivers license, by Olivia Rodrigo. Beautiful song.)

#drivers lisence #percabeth #sad #angst #fanfiction #story #romance

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make-it-mavis · 4 years ago

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Homesick (Entry #36)

(cw: discussion of addiction/violence, suicide mention) ----------

01/24/88 6:30 PM

Hey.

Once I’d chosen my “higher power”, the rest of the program really began to interest me more.

That isn’t to say that I had suddenly seen the light and knew exactly how to fix everything, no. I was still on wobbly legs and I knew it. The goal was to shift my entire worldview, and that sort of thing does not happen overnight. But I had an idea to go off of, which was more than what I’d had before. And the more I sat with it, the more the idea unfurled itself.

There are no absolutes in a world of color. No rules, only choices. I thought I’d lived my life as a rainbow, but I’d been painting with one color for so long. I was indigo -- cold, proud, with the depression of blue and the aggression of violet. I was the color of bruises, the sort that are almost beautiful, but hurt something awful. All of my choices were touched by a shade of pain. I never really thought there was another way to be.

But this new theory of mine challenged that with the phrase: ‘There’s always another color.’

I didn’t know which ones exactly I wanted to move forward with, but I sort of figured that keeping an open mind and paying close attention would reveal them to me. And that, as it turned out, was sort of what step three was all about.

Step three is Surrender. We were expected to surrender to our higher power, and hold it in greater importance than our own selfish desires. My own desire was to learn to live by my new worldview anyway, so it seemed easy enough. But I was told that swallowing my pride would be a tough thing to maintain, so I had to stay on top of it. Well, duh. Of course it’s been hard. You and I were always some of the most prideful little beasts in the arcade. I still fail regularly, but I haven’t given up yet. Which is really what matters. Or so I’ve heard.

I’ll admit something sad. Sometimes, while I’m doing all this work, I wonder if you could have benefitted from anything like this. Like, maybe it would have helped you sort out all that darkness in your head. Maybe it could have saved you, and you’d be sitting right here beside me right now. I don’t know… maybe not. I’m not sure how you’d have ever been convinced to try it. I mean… it took a monumental catastrophe and threat of imprisonment for me to even consider it. If only you had been lucky enough to survive your own… catastrophe. Then, well... maybe.

It hurts so much to think about.

If nothing else, it makes me want to succeed for the both of us.

I was still on step three by my fourth session, but I was preemptively worrying about the upcoming step four. It had been causing me a fair bit of anxiety since the beginning, and I was almost afraid to complete step three and arrive at it. Step four is Courage, which involves pretty much digging deep into your code and listing all the bad things you’ve ever done. A ‘fearless moral inventory’, they called it. I just had no idea how I was going to tackle that. Others might have been able to make a list based on things they felt bad about. I was going to have to think a little harder about mine. Not that I have any shortage of misdeeds to list -- I probably have a hundred for every day of my life. I just… didn’t feel bad about most of them. Feeling any kind of remorse or regret for my actions was never something I was very good at.

I began to wonder why that was. Probably for the first time ever.

While I considered it, I just listened in to all the shares from the other members. During step three, I’d been going along with the challenge I issued myself before, the one meant to lessen Worluk’s effect on me. It was going alright. As I paid more attention to them, the other members had started to take on their own colors in my mind. I definitely got to know some of them a bit more, and even found that listening to their stories helped me gain better perspectives of my own.

I feel a bizarre need to respect the anonymity of the program even here, so I won’t name names. But I’ll name their colors.

An NPC sprite who gave me pinkish-mulberry vibes told us about his experience with step five, Integrity, which I’d been trying not to think about. He seemed near tears as he spoke, just brimming with emotion.

“I’d been so afraid that she would turn me away when she heard about the things I’d done… but she just hugged me. She said that she would have been there for me sooner if I’d just opened up to her… but I think I’d just been so ashamed, I didn’t even think I was worthy of help. I never knew how important that was. Just to feel like you deserve saving.”

That one reminded me of you a little bit, which hurt. I thought about how you had only chosen to let me in on our very last night together. How you barely gave me any time to help you. I hoped you felt like you were worthy of help, but I also kind of doubted it.

It also raised questions about my own self worth... but I tried to tuck those away for later.

A Bad Guy sprite with an orange air about him piped up in response, saying he could relate. But in his case, the sprite he had tried to make amends with turned him away. “It was awful,” he said. “It was everything I’d been afraid of, but all the same… I had to accept it. I’d done wrong by them. I have to live with the consequences of that and choose to be better. Even though my fears came true, I’m still alive. I’m still okay. And that’s kind of freeing.”

Again and again, fear played a heavy role in their struggles. And the more I sat with it, the more it sank in, and the more sense it made. As much as I hated to entertain the idea, maybe I’d been afraid, too. Of what, exactly… I couldn’t really say for sure. But I took a look at my life for a moment, and all the things I loved to do, like drinking and fighting and breaking the rules… and felt kind of sick. Like… maybe it wasn’t always just about chasing freedom. Chasing one thing… could also mean running away from another.

But I could hardly be blamed for that, could I? I’d felt alienated for so long, like different rules applied to me because my Easter Egg role sucked so much. Like my pain validated all the bad things I did. It was only fair, right?

But that was when Worluk spoke up. Her voice didn’t strike quite as much terror in me as it had before, but even as small and raspy as it was, it demanded my attention.

“I’ve tried apologizing to the boys. To everyone, really,” she said, a quiet, tired frustration in her voice. “But they won’t take it. They see right through me. I did a lot of things that hurt them while I was neck deep in buffs. And I’m sorry for hurting them, I really am. But I’ll be real with you all. I’m having trouble regretting the things I did. They were all things I wanted to do already. It just felt like buffs made me actually go out and do something about it.”

“That’s understandable,” Clyde said. “But none of us are exempt from regret. None of us here can decide that we’ve done no wrong. The sprites around us, the ones we hurt, are the ones we need to listen to in order to understand the gravity of the things we’ve done.”

Worluk shook her head a bit at that, refusing to look. “I know. I get that. I do. But if you had only seen what I’ve seen, you wouldn’t say that…”

“Pain is the one thing all of us have in common,” Clyde reminded her calmly. “No addict is free of it. But pain only explains our behavior. It does not justify it.”

I winced.

It felt like that sentence saw my thoughts and slapped me hard for them. His words hung over my head and forced my gaze to the floor. I wanted to argue. I didn’t want it to be true. I needed to keep being the exception in order to justify my actions. After everything I’d been through, I couldn’t be held to the same standard as everyone else.

But, to my dismay, that also seemed to be how Worluk felt.

I knew firsthand how unjust her actions had been. I knew that she had no excuse. Her decision to attack me was nothing but misplaced rage and overwhelming bloodlust. She was nothing more than a dangerous, sadistic lunatic in my eyes, and she deserved to be locked up. She didn’t even deserve to be in that circle with the rest of us.

It was unspeakably frightening to me, then, that we could have the same thought. That we could be the same in any way at all. Yet, I was helpless to deny it.

We were very similar.

We had both used our pain to justify some pretty horrible things. We both refused to take responsibility. And the scariest part was, even though I hadn’t attempted to murder anyone, who’s to say that I wouldn’t have gone down that route if I hadn’t gotten help when I did? I mean, I did threaten someone just to get their buffs. If the circumstances were right, could I have done the exact same thing as Worluk?

Wouldn’t I have killed to avenge you?

I felt sick. I couldn’t let it be true. I had to be better than that. Better than her.

But in a weird sort of way, I kind of... wanted her to do better, too. Not out of compassion. It was sort of selfish, actually. I felt like she and I were, unfortunately, in the same sinking ship. I could have just let her drown, but I’d just be watching her suffer a fate that would quickly come for me after. If that makes sense. I hated her. I still wanted to rip her antenna off and feed them to her. But if she was beyond help, then so was I. Somehow, I had to believe that it was possible to turn things around, even after we had sunk as deep as we had.

And counselling is hard. Really hard. And boring. But she had to do it, same as anyone else there. She had to swallow the same giant pill that I did, so maybe I could jam it down her unwilling throat.

Maybe I could take things into my own hands, just a little bit.

I didn’t want to speak to her directly, because I might have lost my nerve and started screaming at her. But I thought up a way to get my point across. Whether it was a good idea or not, I didn’t have time to assess. I only had until my turn to plan, so it was going to be mostly improv.

It was time for more rolling with the proverbial punches.

Once my turn came, I found myself trembling with the severity of what I was about to do. This bug sprite had caused me so much pain and suffering. But I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I could paint with a color outside of revenge if I so chose. So I loaded my brush with exactly what the dreaded step four called for -- courage.

“Hi, my name’s Mavis, I’m an addict,” I began as usual, leaning on my knees. “I’m on step three tonight, but... all I can think about is step four.”

I was met with some knowing nods. Someone muttered, “That’s a tough one.”

I flashed a half-smile and continued, “Honestly, a big part of why it’s so daunting is, I mean, I’ve probably done more bad things in my life than good things. I could try to list them all, but then I’d be on step four for the rest of my life.”

There were a couple chuckles.

“But listening to you guys and your stories about, y’know, opening up to sprites you care about, I, uh…” I paused. “Well, I’m really not good at… being helped. I never really have been. A big part of that’s just pride, but I think, uh… everything that goes along with lettin’ people in has never been my forte, and that’s only gotten worse ever since, uh… well, lately. I haven’t let anyone in on what I’ve been going through. But... well, I guess, keepin’ with step three like I oughtta, I feel like... it’d be surrendering to my higher power to-- Okay, I don’t know quite how to word it, but I need to paint with a different color. That much is clear. And I thought… y’know, I could start right here. So… I’ve got a story I’d like to share, if that’s alright.”

“Please,” Clyde prompted.

“It’s an ugly one,” I warned him.

“There are no judgments here,” he reminded me with a smile.

I took another deep breath and sighed. Here goes, I thought.

“Well, it’s probably no secret to y’all that I haven’t exactly been the most popular sprite in the arcade since… y’know. Everyone’s got their opinion. And some sprites, uh, share it more loudly than others. Throwin’ stuff, yellin’ at me, that all sucks, but I guess I can deal with it. The thing is, though, someone… took it to a whole other level. Back before I got hooked on GC, someone, well… tried to kill me.”

That got everyone's attention.

Clyde turned blue. There were several horrified gasps. Sprites leaned towards me, their eyes wide, so many emotions growing behind the shock on their faces. Worluk's antennae perked up as she listened. Obviously, she knew that I knew who she was. But I don't think she knew what I was doing. She looked less angry and more curious -- maybe she was curious to see if I'd be dumb enough to try to accuse her.

When Clyde came to his senses, he asked me worriedly, "Have you told the Surge Protector about this, Mavis?"

"Well… yeah, I did eventually," I told him. "But not ‘til a couple weeks ago. Right after the attack, he helped me across Game Central, but I just-- I couldn't talk about it then. It was weird."

Before I could continue, a little sprite with lavender vibes interrupted, quivering in alarm, "Wait, wait, I think I saw-- I saw you! With Surge! And your shirt was all--"

"Yep."

"You mean, that was when you’d been--"

I nodded and swallowed. "Yep. Sure was."

"Oh no," the little sprite put their hands near their mouth and looked at everyone. "I saw her, everyone, she looked awful. She could barely walk. Her-- her legs were bleeding!"

"Actually," someone else added, "I remember seeing her, too. I just-- I didn’t look too close 'cause there was so much blood on her face…"

I felt myself going red. It was embarrassing to have them remember just how awful and abused I looked. But it felt like the point of the program was to get used to embarrassing myself, so I tried to take it as a good thing.

"What did Surge say?" Clyde asked.

"Well,” I said with a defeated laugh, “he said there was nothing he could do. I have no evidence. I don't know who it was. I didn't even see them. I was blindfolded and tied up."

So many horrified eyes were fixed on me. I glanced at Worluk just for a moment, and saw just the slightest hint of nerves in her body language. She was glancing around just a bit more than usual. I figured she would never get my point if she got too defensive, so I decided to cut to the chase.

“Look, settle down, everybody, okay?” I put my hands up with a half-smile. “I’m okay. I mean, I’m here, right? And I’m not here to give anyone nightmares with the details. I just wanted to get that off my chest, because I’d been keeping it to myself for so long. It was one of the big reasons I got into GC. I wanted to drown out the memory. I’m not even totally sure why I didn’t tell anybody. I think… maybe I didn’t wanna seem weak. Or something like that.”

“How could that make you weak?” The lavender sprite asked. “You’re incredibly strong to have survived that.”

My ears felt hot. I didn’t know what to do with that. “Uh… thanks. The thing is -- and this has puzzled me ever since it happened -- whoever did it… they left me alive. I was totally at their mercy, but they left me alive. For a while, I sort of thought that they might have done it to be cruel. Leave me alive and humiliated. Let the fear consume me ‘til I’d corrupted myself on buffs. Let me tell you, what they did to me screwed me up real bad. It ended up in all my bad trips in one way or another. And I spent many a sleepless night just imagining what I’d do to this sprite if I met them. The revenge I’d take for all they put me through.”

Worluk was watching me dead on for what may have been the first time. I hated admitting that she had made such a significant impression on me, but I tried not to return her gaze too obviously or tense up under her scrutinizing glare.

“But nearly dying of corruption, and blacking out and nearly burning down Tapper’s, it, uh… it put a lot of things in perspective, y’know. ‘Cause, uh… my attacker -- well, attackers, there were actually four sprites there, but the ringleader -- I never did get to see her. But I heard her, and I could tell… she was definitely high.”

Soft gasps. Solemn nods.

“And I’ve sorta realized how lucky I am to be here now. Not just to be alive, but to be getting help. Because really, there’s no denying that I could have gone down that same road if I had more time. And with that, y’know, I wonder… would revenge even make me happy now? Now that I know it could’ve been me? Now that I know how similar she was to me?”

I chanced a glance. Worluk was frozen stiff, her expression intense but unreadable. My words were making an impression. Good or bad, they were doing something to her. An encouraging rush of adrenaline coursed through my body. Don’t stop now, it told me.

Finish it.

“I never understood why she left me alive, but I think I get it now,” I indirectly spoke to her, my heart pounding. “She’s not a nightmarish monster, she’s just a sprite. A sprite who, when it comes down to it, knows the difference between right and wrong. Who knows that killing me would not actually make her happy. She must have realized that we’re not so different. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be alive right now. Buffs make monsters of all of us. But I can’t condemn her for that, not without condemning myself, too. Wherever she is, she’s not beyond redemption. And neither am I.”

“YOU DON’T DESERVE REDEMPTION!!”

The whole room jumped out of its pixels, and everyone was upright in an instant, reacting to the screeching bug that had leapt to her feet, her yellow wings spread out and quivering with rage. She screamed in a voice that was suddenly far closer to how I remembered her:

“I LEFT YOU ALIVE BECAUSE THE BOYS BEGGED ME TO, NOT BECAUSE YOU DESERVED TO LIVE!”

Well.

All bets were off.

My first instinct was to fight. She was threatening me. Challenging me. Surely, she was about to dive right into me and we would lock into our fated fight to the death, just like I thought we would from day one. But as my hand snapped to the empty space at my hip where my brush would be, my path to her was suddenly blocked. A few other members had stepped in front of me. It took me just a second to realize that they were not barring me from her.

They were barring her from me.

I’ve felt alone to many varying, crushing degrees in this story, regardless of who was actually there for me. I’m not sure why, but that split-second moment when those sprites stepped in front of me was when I realized I wasn’t alone. I had never been alone. The thought that everyone in the arcade wanted me dead was never true. There were always allies waiting for me.

I had barely a moment to process that.

That was also the moment when the big, buff security guards leapt into action. Two of them were upon her immediately, gripping onto her arms and wings as she thrashed and buzzed. The third guard disappeared entirely, surely out to call the Surge Protector.

Voice deep with horror and disbelief, Clyde called out to her, “Worluk… You’re not really saying--?!”

“YES,” she snapped, “I’m SAYING. Don’t lie and tell me none of you ever thought to do the exact same thing! How can any of you say you trust this lying glitch?! You know she was in on the Roadblasters attack -- she even went all Turbo on Tapper’s, for Pong’s sake!”

A couple of voices came to my defense. I think they said that Tapper’s was a buff-related accident. That Worluk had no proof of my involvement in the Roadblasters incident. That I was just as much a victim as anybody.

I barely heard any of it. All I could hear, echoing again and again, drowning out all coherent thought, was your name said in her voice.

I wanted to push through everyone and rip out her tongue. I wanted to snap off her mandibles. I wanted to mangle her vocal cords just for thinking for one second that she deserved to say your name.

I didn’t do that. I stood there, breathing hard, flames roaring in my belly until I finally shouted the question I’d wanted to ask since the night of the attack.

“Why the HELL would I be in on it?!”

Everyone’s gaze turned to me. I was shaking, on the verge of tears from pure, raw emotion. Hearing that bug’s horribly familiar screams brought back harrowing flashes of the emotions and sensations I felt the day she tortured me. I felt that fear and helplessness once again, and that fact kicked up seething, scorching rage. I would not be her victim again. I locked eyes with Worluk, sharpened my voice to a deadly point, and demanded, “Why would I help my best friend kill himself?!”

She gave a single, ugly, humorless laugh. “He didn’t kill himself. You just didn’t save him. The plan went sideways, and you failed.”

I shook with so much fury, I felt like I was going to burst out of my own skin. I could barely stand to stay in one spot, twitching and tensing with animal rage. My allies started to lift their hands, trying to keep me under control and preparing to try to catch me if I leapt over them, which I was dying to do. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, YOU SCUM-SUCKING BIT-BAG?! WHAT DO YOU CARE?! YOU DON’T CARE! YOU DON’T KNOW ME -- YOU DIDN’T KNOW EITHER OF US! YOU’RE JUST SOME SADISTIC FREAK WHO NEEDED SOME FRESH GORE TO GET OFF ON!”

“I CARE,” she roared back, fighting against the security guards’ arms, tendons in her neck straining as she threw herself into her wet, hissing screams, “BECAUSE I WATCHED YOU LEAP RIGHT OVER MY SISTER’S BURNING BODY JUST TO SAVE A MURDERER -- AND YOU COULDN’T EVEN DO THAT!”

That threw me. I blinked hard. “Your sister?! What sister?! What are you talking about?!”

“YEAH, MY SISTER! HER NAME WAS GARWOR! SHE WAS SWEET AND INNOCENT AND YOU COULD’VE SAVED HER, BUT NO, YOU WANTED TO SAVE THE MONSTER THAT STARTED THE FIRE IN THE FIRST PLACE! YOU REALLY WANNA LIVE, KNOWING THAT? IF I KILLED YOU, IT WOULD’VE BEEN A MERCY! I WOULD’VE SAVED YOU FROM YOUR OWN FILTHY, PATHETIC EXISTENCE!”

I didn’t understand. She had to be lying.

But the massive memory gap concerning the time of the Roadblasters incident scratched and dug at my brain. I still didn’t remember that day. But from the stories I’d gathered, there was a blast. There was fire. Always with the fire. It felt like her words were sharp fingers digging into my brain and trying to forcefully uproot my mind. A sharp, pounding headache hit my skull, and I couldn’t speak.

Before I could manage a response, Surge materialized in the room with a flash of static.

“Alright, alright now,” he said firmly, standing between Worluk and the group and holding a hand up to both sides. “Someone better tell me what’s going on here.”

“Gladly,” Worluk answered without hesitation. “Surge, I confess to the attempted murder of that scrawny waste of pixels over there named Make-it Mavis.”

Surge stood a bit straighter. He seemed surprised at how easy that was. “Is that right?”

“That’s right. I’d rather quit this stinkin’ program and be locked up for life than sit in here and have to pretend she and I are the same for a second longer.”

And, amazingly… that was it. I wish that I had said something more. Anything, really. Just to have the last word. But life doesn’t always work out that way. My head was so muddied up with the explosive stress of the encounter, I could barely speak.

Surge took the confession as the proof I wasn’t able to give him, and he cuffed her, and recited her sentence and rights to her as he and a guard escorted her out of the room and out of sight. To say everyone was shaken would have been an understatement. A couple sprites cried. One nearly had a panic attack and needed to be calmed down. No one came into the meeting that night expecting such a harrowing confrontation. Not even me.

I had come into the program wishing so badly that I could get rid of Worluk. Then, almost the second I convinced myself to live and let live, she got rid of herself for me. I think we really were very similar, in the end. I very easily could have left the program in a similarly explosive fashion. But the only difference between us was that I chose to do better.

I think that was really the moment that sealed my faith in the ‘colors’ idea. It really did come down to choice. She chose to give up.

And I could choose to heal.

That was my surrender. That was step three.

But at the end of that session, I was raw. I was fragile. I felt terribly sick. I made sure to thank everyone for defending me. It really did mean a lot. But I told everyone I’d take a session or two off just to rest and recover. They all understood, of course. A couple others even said the same. But we’d all be back, we promised.

I just had a lot to process.

#fanfiction #fanfic #wreck it ralph #make it mavis #original character #turbo #homesick

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goldenlionimagines · 5 years ago

Note

"you are my new pillow" with hubie pleassee he deserves some netflix and chill for once in his life

yess, Happy Birthday Hubert! He deserves many snuggles today.

Fluff Prompt: “You are my new pillow.”

Word Count: 2,517

There are moments where you expect to die. You wonder if anyone will care if you do. You realize your life has been meaningless. You never even made it to the Officer’s Academy last year. What a sad and useless existence.

Those are the thoughts Y/N had while sitting in a closet in Eastags Manor. It was currently being stormed by the Imperial Army. Why they would want that land was obvious. They were on the border of the Kingdom and Empire, as well as being a sturdy stone fortress. If not headed by her Father and Brother, it would have actually been easy to defend.

That night, they had been drinking while the Imperial forces used a Thunderstorm as cover to get close. The heavy rain served a purpose in their plan. Y/N was hiding, holding a sword she barely knew how to use.

She heard the door creak open, and then heavy footsteps. Whoever it was must have known this was someone’s room, and for good reason. It was covered in Black Roses Y/N had grown by herself. Why black? Maybe because of the war. Maybe because she liked them.

Whoever it was, they were standing in front of the closet. She was trying not to breathe. Maybe they wouldn’t realize she was there. A lost dream, she realized, as the door ripped open. Shit. Of course, with her luck, this was bound to happen, wasn’t it?“Ah, Hubert Von Vestra. What’s an Imperial General like you doing here? I haven’t even cleaned. Do you want some flowers? Maybe some coffee or tea?” She asked nervously. He sighed, seeing the sword in her hands.

“What is your name?” He asked. “And don’t consider lying. It will get you nowhere.” His voice was pretty intimidating. Yeah, her sword skills were going to get her nowhere with the Imperial General. She placed it on the ground beside her.

“Y/N Eastags. I don’t have a crest, if that’s what you’re going to ask. Are you going to kill me?” She asked. She didn’t know why she was asking, as she didn’t really care.

“Your father told us that none of his children had borne a crest. Not yet. I believe your father is attempting to work something out with the Emperor. Neither of us are really taking him seriously, however. This may be the ending of your life, I’m afraid.” He said. “I’m supposed to escort you to the rest of your family, if you’ll accompany me.”

He held out a hand to her, which she took hesitantly. She had been training that day, and Hubert took note of her dancer attire. She saw him looking. “I was training to be a dancer for the Kingdom. My teacher left about an hour ago.” She stated.

“It suits you.” He said. They were walking down one of the longer hallways, the one which held the shrine for Y/N’s mother. Above it was the Eastags’ Holy Weapon, a sword that her mother had been able to wield.

In the rain that night, Y/N decided that her life wasn’t just going to go out. Maybe it was seeing her mother’s portrait. Maybe it was the sound of her father and brother proposing stupid agreements down the hallway. Whatever it was, she grabbed the sword off the wall.

While she had meant to take on a fighting pose, she didn’t she couldn’t help but look at the weapon in shock as it reacted to her crest. She held it in her hands, a slight smile on her face. Had her father really never had her tested? Or had he just lied to her?

“Emperor Edelgard!” Hubert called down. Y/N had almost forgotten the situation as she heard the Emperor’s name. It was so strange, getting into an attack position with that sword. She had never seen the Emperor before, and the woman just seemed to look right at her.

With this sword, for the first time, she felt seen. She saw her father come up the stairs, ready to apologize for her, but even he seemed impressed for once. “Y/N,” Edelgard began, “How do you feel?”

“Alive.”

A deal was worked out that evening. Y/N even agreed to it. She and the Holy Weapon would travel to Embarr, where she would live and train as a member of the Imperial Army. In the meantime, her family would continue business as usual. They would serve the Empire, while serving as a space to house Cornelia while she prepared to use troops to take the Faerghus throne.

Of course, Y/N was expected to leave as soon as she was ready, and not to pull any stunts. So, Edelgard left her with her most intimidating general. Someone she couldn’t imagine Y/N trying to stop. That being Hubert. They got into a carriage together, she still being in her dancer clothes and him helping her with her bags.

He watched her lay across some of the seats, seeing her smile for the first time as she stared out of a window. The rain was still pouring down. “In all of the daydreams I had about getting away from here, I was never being escorted to Embarr by an Imperial General. Instead, I was a stowaway.”

“You wanted to get out of here?”

“Did half of my dad’s ideas involve my death?” She gave a sad laugh. “He’s been like that since mom died. Not that he ever liked me, but it was better with mom. He insisted I never get tested for a crest, because where my brother failed I shouldn’t succeed. I’m sure he hates me even more now, since he has to work with the Empire.”

“I take it your father doesn’t like the Empire then?” Hubert asked. “My father wasn’t an especially… Happy story either. He was committed to making sure I was a good servant to Lady Edelgard. But, he was also a corrupt Lord.” Hubert explained.

“People like us find each other because of that.” She said. “At least you didn’t spend your life believing you were useless.”

“Without Lady Edelgard, I am useless.” He said.

She sat up. “Are you kidding? You’re, like, the scariest name in the Empire. I heard your name from my father at least as many times as I heard Edelgard’s.” She said. “You’re nowhere near useless.”

She didn’t see it, but he smiled slightly.

Two months. Y/N’s name around the palace had become synonymous with happy. After any battle, or any meeting, she could even Bernadetta smile. Well, she never saw Hubert smile. Edelgard would send her out into battles, and her dancing would help inspire soldiers to keep fighting. She was a dancer almost as good as the students had seen at the Academy.

Hubert knew that a girl already close to the Emperor and so… well… like her, would have many suitors far better than him. So, he would simply stay out of her way, just as he had used to for Edelgard. Better to be simply a helper behind the scenes than centerstage.

Of course, when he heard her dancing tapping against the floor in a usually empty room in the palace, he couldn’t help but peek in and watch. He loved moments like these, where he could watch her dancing by herself. All the practicing she did… it was no wonder she was so good. And her outfit…

“I can see you, you know. I like this room because it has that big mirror on the wall.” She laughed a bit. The laugh enchanted him further. He stepped in, seeing she had stopped and was watching him in the mirror.

“You shouldn’t be in here without permission. You are still only a guest here.” He explained. “Yet, you’ve seem to come to believe you are more than that these past months. You’re lucky Lady Edelgard likes you so much.”“Are you trying to scare me?” She asked. “Because if you actually come here to tell me off, you wouldn’t have been watching me dance for as long as you did. I don’t really take you to be someone who wouldn’t interrupt me if you had something you needed to say.” She crossed her arms as he came up closer behind her. “And you don’t scare me.”

“I am not attempting to scare you, but only trying to remind you that you are a guest here. You do not truly have status in the Empire, other than your new friends here who tend to be in higher standing.” He stated. “And if you aren’t afraid, you should attempt to make eye contact, rather than staring into a mirror.”

She turned around to face him, looking him in the eyes. “The way you speak makes it sound almost like I should join the family of someone higher than myself.” She thought for a moment, before smiling. “Perhaps the Von Vestra family? That name seems to get a lot of attention here.”

Hubert blushed as Y/N laughed a bit. “Apologies, that suggestion was not my intent.”

“I know, I’m just messing with you. Besides, if I did marry someone from the Empire, it would drive my father off the deep end.” She said. “How about we get something to eat? I seem to have lost track of time and missed lunch.” She went over and started grabbing a bag of things she had brought with her.

“I will accompany you for a meal, if that is what you are asking. Just know I cannot prevent any strange looks you might encounter for asking me to do as much.” He said.

“I don’t mind. You’re my friend, not them.” She said happily.

He watched her for a moment, comparing her to the girl he had met not too long ago. Had being in the Empire really made her this happy? If so, was the war they had been fighting at Edelgard’s side worth it? Had it all been worth it… Because he got to meet Y/N and see her smiling?

“Are you happy you’re here?” Hubert asked. She looked at him, her smile not fading away.

“I told you when we met. I always daydreamed about leaving home, and now I’m here. I love getting to be here.” She said. “You all have been so kind to me. If you all are waging war against Fodlan, there’s no place I’d want to be other than fighting at your side.”

On Hubert’s Birthday, he had to admit he felt a little disappointed. He had gifts and hugs and everything like that… Enough bouquets to decorate his room for months. Of course there was only one person he really wanted a bouquet from… and that bouquet had never come.

Or maybe it had. He wouldn’t know. He had apparently been avoiding her all day. She was in none of her usual rooms, not even her own. He hadn’t even seen her at lunch. Why? Had he done something wrong?

He was so tired from the day, he didn’t bother going to dinner. He instead told the Emperor he was going to his room, and of course she said okay to Hubert getting some rest. Dorothea and Ferdinand seemed to giggle as he walked by. Did they know something? It was none of his business.

Why was his room unlocked? He was so particular about locking it. Had he forgotten that morning. Or worse… Was someone in there? He stepped in cautiously, looking around the dark room. He then saw one of his candles light on his desk, so he looked over.

“Sorry, I know you’re tired, but I knew it was your birthday, so I had some things for you.” He saw Y/N, wearing a piece of Dancer’s attire that left… Very little to his imagination. She had a cake next to her, as well as a bouquet made of her own Black Roses. “The cake is flavored after the coffee beans you like so much. Ferdinand helped me get them.”

“And I assume Dorothea helped you with your outfit. Would that be correct?” She nodded as he stepped closer to her. “And here I thought you had been avoiding me. Turns out, this is quite the opposite.” He stated.

“It is.” She smiled. “I chose the outfit since you seem to like the other one so much, do you enjoy this one as well?” She was blushing, obviously not used to wearing such revealing attire.

“Indeed. However, I would like to see you dancing in this attire as well.” He stated, examining the cake a bit. “Did you bake this?”

“I did. It’s what took me all day. Maybe I’ll dance in this some other time, but you should try the cake. I want to know if you like it.” She said. He took a fork from next to the cake, using it to take a bite. “Is it good?”

“It is. Would you like a taste?” He asked, stepping in front of her.

“I would.” She said. She quickly felt his lips on her own, trapped in a passionate kiss with the dark mage. His arms found her back and waist, holding her closely. When they parted, they still stayed close together. “Is your birthday sufficient yet?” She whispered.

“Not quite.” He whispered back.

The next morning, Hubert had the new sensation of Y/N lying on his bare chest. One of her arms was strapped across him, while his found it’s own place softly rubbing her back and side. It was a perfect moment… one he wanted to have over and over again.

“Y/N.” He whispered.

“Yes?” She whispered back. “What do you need?”

“For you to marry me. To become a Von Vestra.” She sad up, and so did he. They looked each other in the eyes, and Y/N didn’t speak. “Have I managed to find you speechless?”

“Yes.” She said. “Mainly because in my head, my immediate answer was yes. I was already to the part where my father rips his hair out.” They both laughed briefly, before kissing softly for a moment. It was such a nice morning. “I have a condition, though. If you want me to marry you, anyway.”

He laid back down, and she resumed her position on his chest. “What is your condition?” He asked, having seen her smile when she had spoken the words, meaning it probably wasn’t anything too ridiculous.

“You are my new pillow.” She said, attempting to place a serious tone in her voice.

“You sell yourself short. You had enough of my attention to ask for anything.” He said. “But I’ll consider it.”

“Consider it?”

“I don’t know if the Emperor would be permissible to the idea of me sleeping in with you every morning.” He teased her.

“I do not sleep in every morning!” She complained. “Only most of the time. Oh, and that reminds me, I reserve the right to call you Hubie whenever I need.”

“... I may need to reconsider my proposal.”

#hubert von vestra #fe3h hubert #fe3h #fe3h imagines #fluff prompts #happy birthday hubert

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tellmealovestory · 5 years ago

Text

Such Great Heights

Summary: You and Bucky spend a day at the carnival.

Notes: Also posted on my ao3. This was written for @ussgallifreyfics 700 followers writing challenge. Congrats on all of your followers and thanks so much for letting me join!

Warnings: A couple swear words and a slightly anxious reader.

“Do one thing every day that scares you.” - Eleanor Roosevelt

Cotton colored candy skies. Tongues and lips and teeth painted blue and red from icy cold snow cones. The smell of fried everything. People laughing and talking at decibels that wouldn’t be acceptable any other place. Long lines that wound through the park. Blistered and tired feet. Faces that were tinged red and pink from the hot sun blaring down on them all day. Tired smiles. Tired eyes. Children asleep in strollers. Balloons wrapped around wrists of the children who were awake. People clutching giant teddy bears and goldfish in bags that surely wouldn’t survive the week once they got back to real life. Glitter dotting the apples of girls cheeks. Smiles stretched wide from face to face.

Cheers erupted around you. For a moment you’re confused until you see the cause. The carnival lights are turning on bathing the grounds in soft blues, bright reds, lively greens, golden yellows. The food stands are a blur of neons. Pinks and greens and purples. It’s beautiful, but it hurts your tired eyes to look at them for too long.

A small step forward. Followed by another. And then another. You’re next in line. Your heart rate spikes, your hand growing sweatier in Bucky’s and you wait for him to say something. To ask if you’re okay. But he doesn’t. And when you look at him you see how happy he is standing in line for the ferris wheel knowing you’ll be the next in line. You wish you could muster up some of his happiness, but you can’t. You can only offer him a gentle squeeze of your hand, a forced smile on your painted lips which he doesn’t take notice of.

You’d do anything for him. Anything at all.

He could ask you to run away with him tomorrow and you’d do it. He could ask you to marry him on top of the highest building in New York and you’d do it. Never mind the fact that you’d miss your friends and family. Never mind the fact that you’re utterly terrified of heights.

In the back of your mind you know that you should tell him. Tell him now and you know that he’d take your hand and whisk you away. He’d find another ride for you guys to go on never mind that you’ve been on everything except the ferris wheel. He’d never make you do something that you didn’t want to do.

But you want to do this. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself as you take a shaky step forward. Your body moves on its own. You can hear the excited chatter of people surrounding you. Can vaguely make out the voice of the ride operator as you slide into the seat next to Bucky. Can faintly feel the way the seatbelt fits snugly across your lap as the safety bar lowers.

And with one final shaky look down at the ground where you would give anything to be the seat of the ferris wheel is lifting up, up, up.

It doesn’t matter that you can still see the ground you’re terrified. Your hand grips the bar, a quiet fuck spilling from your lips as the seat sways and when you shoot Bucky a panicked look he only presses a sweet kiss to your forehead and you know there’s no way you can tell him now.

A flurry of thoughts flit through your mind. None of them good. All of them disaster related from too many horror movies and your own anxiety making things seem worse than they really are. What if you get stuck at the top? What if the ride crashes to the ground? What if, what if, what if?

The seat lifts higher. This time shakier than the last and you want to curse out the operator. Yell at him to be gentle. For fuck sakes the signs on the back of all the chairs clearly says do not rock. And yet there he is down below safely on the ground jerking the ride lever as if he has no cares in the world, as if he doesn’t care that there are people on the ride afraid of heights, as if he doesn’t care if the chairs rock.

The handle is slippery with your sweat and even though Bucky had promised you that the views up top would be worth it you can’t see anything with your eyes closed so tightly all you can see is black. Your teeth hurt from clenching your jaw and when he wraps an arm around your shoulder puling you closer to him you let out a quiet squeak when the chair rocks gently back and forth.

“Bucky,” you try, your voice cracking and you swear if you start crying you’re never going to forgive yourself.

He had only asked you one thing today and that was that he wanted to go on the ferris wheel with his best girl. He wanted to see the views from up top. Wanted to share this with you. Steve had told you that when they were younger they used to ride it at Coney Island. Said it was always one of Bucky’s favorite things. And though this isn’t Coney Island he had still asked you to go on with him.

Throughout the day you had made excuses. The line was too long. The sun was too hot. Someone had thrown up on one of the chairs. You had just eaten now wasn’t the time. You had just had something to drink now definitely wasn’t the time. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t pressure you. Didn’t ask you more than once. You thought if you waited until the sun had gone down that it would be easier to handle. You wouldn’t be able to see as much therefore you wouldn’t be so scared. You had been wrong. So very, very wrong. With the carnival lights shining bright and dusk settling over the park coming on at night was way, way worse.

“Honey, open your eyes, you’re missing the view.” His voice is soft, calming, sweet against the shell of your ear and though you want nothing more than to do as he asked you can’t.

Shaking your head you bite your lower lip refusing to open your eyes. You can’t tell how high up you are which might have been a good thing except for the fact that your mind had you convinced you were so high you could touch the sky. The chair stopped. Sucking in a deep breath you still didn’t open your eyes. Either the ride was stuck or you were finally situated at the top. Either way you weren’t ready to open your eyes to find out.

“I can’t,” you whimpered, the sound pathetic to your own ears and you hate that you’re ruining this for him.

“Why?”

A beat passes. The chair still doesn’t move and you swear to god that it’s stuck. You’re going to be up here for the rest of the night. You’re going to die up here. Oh god, oh god, oh god. The things that you do for love.

“Honey?” That sweet, calming voice again, the patience and you know that now is not the time to tell him, but that doesn’t stop you from blurting it out.

“I’m afraid of heights!”

There. The words are out there in the open and there’s nothing you can do, but hope that he’s not mad at you. It’s a ridiculous thought. You know that. He would never be mad at you for telling him that, but it doesn’t stop your brain from thinking it. From focusing on that thought alone until the chair starts to move again, swinging wildly and you swear that when, no, if you make it off this hell of a ride you’re going to tell the operator to get a new job or better yet take the advice on the back of each chair and do not rock the chairs!.

“What?”

“Please don’t be mad at me. I was going to tell you, but then you were so excited about going on this and I didn’t want to disappoint you and I thought if I was with you it’d be okay,” you rambled. Cracking open an eye you watch him carefully. He doesn’t look mad which is a relief. Softening his eyes you lean into his touch when he pulls you closer, but that only results in the chair swinging and you find yourself hissing, your knuckles turning white against the handle.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did tell you.”

“Y/N, no you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“When did you tell me you were afraid of heights? Doll, if I knew that I wouldn’t have taken you on this.”

“I told you, shit, shit, shit, why does he keep doing that?” You whined, as the chair reached the top.

Afraid to close your eyes and afraid to look down you don’t understand how you’re just reaching the top now. One flesh hand and one gloved hand reach up to cup your cheeks forcing you to keep your eyes steady on him and if your heart wasn’t racing so fast, if you weren’t so close to having a melt down on top of the scariest ride at the carnival you would kiss him for helping to center you.

“I did tell you,” you tried again, swallowing the lump in your throat when the chair doesn’t move to make a descent down. “I told you like... two minutes ago, Bucky, try to keep up.” Joking is the only way you know how to make it through this situation without bursting into tears and when you see him fighting the smile that’s threatening to curl his lips up you let out a shaky breath.

“That’s not what I meant and you know that.”

“I know, but I just you were so excited and when Steve told me this you used to be one of your favorite rides I wanted to do something nice for you and I really thought I could handle this and I... god damnit.”

“Hey, look at me, okay? You’re okay, honey, you’re okay. Keep your eyes on me,” he cooed.

Nodding your head you do as he asked keeping your eyes on his which is harder than you thought it would be when the chair finally makes a descent backwards. You begin to breathe a little easier the closer to the ground it gets, but you’ve seen this ride before, you know that you’ll have to make at least two or three more times around which means more time at the top again.

“What about the view? You wanted to look at the view.”

“I am looking at the view.”

“Okay, that is not what I meant and you know that,” you retorted with a roll of your eyes and a soft laugh. It’s the first one to slip past your lips since the ride started and slowly you begin to feel more like yourself. Not quite as anxious. Your heart rate isn’t spiking as fast. Your palms aren’t as sweaty, but your knuckles are still white.

When you pass the ride operator you shoot him a death glare, too busy helping people on and off he doesn’t notice, but it still makes you feel a little bit better until you feel the chair starting to climb back up to the top.

“Ya know the first time I saw you I was afraid to talk to you.”

The comment is so random that you can’t help gaping at him. “What? Why?”

Shrugging his shoulders he licks his lower lip. True to his word he never takes his eyes off of you. The pad of his thumb brushes across your cheek and you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“Cause you were so confident and cute and even though the coffee was awful I kept coming back to see you.”

“God, Bucky I was anything but cute and confident in those uniforms.”

“Ya gonna let me tell the story my way?”

“I guess...,” you teased.

“It took me months before I got the nerve up to talk to you and that was only because Stevie and Natasha made me. You probably don’t remember it, but when I went to ask for your number I couldn’t stop shaking. Same with our first date and our first kiss.”

Smiling softly you remembered that. Not the same way he did of course. The two of you had met at a coffee shop where you had been working at the time and even though he thought the coffee had been bad you lived on that stuff to get you through your college classes. You remembered him coming in nearly every time you were working. Always sitting at a table near the back. Baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. It had taken you a few visits before you finally noticed him, but once you did it was nearly impossible to take your eyes off him.

The night he had finally asked for your number it was just you working. He had been your last customer and as you had been wiping down the tables he had come up to you startling you out of your daze you had jumped before shooting him a sheepish smile when you saw him flinch. Both of you had apologized at the same time, but the damage had been done. He had been awkward, clumsy, shy. Nothing like the sauve ladies man from the forties you had grown up hearing stories about. You wouldn’t see peaks of that until much later when you guys had been dating for close to a year.

“And every time I gotta leave you for a mission I still get scared,” he murmured. “The point is it’s good to do stuff that scares you every once in awhile. Look where it led us. If I hadn’t gotten the nerve to finally get your number we wouldn’t be here.”

Letting go of a shaky breath you loosen your hold on the bar seeing that the ride is finally almost over. Three chairs are ahead of you and you’re finally brave enough to tear your gaze away from Bucky’s and look down. It’s still scary and you almost wish you hadn’t, you’re still too high up for your comfort level, but you take his words to heart.

“Look at me, doll.”

For once you’re grateful that he can read you so well and you do as he asks.

“I’m okay.” You’re not sure if you’re saying it for his benefit or yours. The ride operators movements are still jerky, the chair continues to sway causing your stomach to swirl with nerves despite being closer to the ground. You know that you’re not going to be able to fully relax until your two tired and blistered feet are back on solid ground.

Two chairs are ahead of you and with his hands still cupping your cheeks, with his beautiful eyes never wavering from his you ignore everything. The bright carnival lights, the sounds of people laughing and screaming, the way the chair swings with every movement, the off key music from a cheap band playing one hit wonders from the eighties under a tent filled with drunk people. You focus on Bucky and only Bucky.

Leaning forward you crash your lips against his trying to show him with one kiss how much you love him, how much you appreciate him, how much you love that he opened up to you and told how he was afraid to talk you, how he still got scared to go on missions even after all this time, how much he showed you sometimes it was okay to be vulnerable, okay to tell someone that you were scared. Releasing your sweaty hands from the safety bar for the first time since sliding into the seat your fingers curl around his shirt pulling him closer to you.

One chair is ahead of you, but you pay no attention to it or just how close you are to getting off. All you focus on is the way his lips feel chapped against yours from the sun hitting them all day, the way he tastes of sugary sweet cotton candy and powdered sugar from your shared funnel cake. You focus on the way his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, the way you part your lips allowing his tongue in. The way he’s able to pull moans from you, the way his hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head bringing your lips closer to his.

And when you’re next in line to get off you don’t notice that either. You don’t notice the cough from the ride operator, don’t notice the uncomfortable stares from people waiting to get on, don’t notice their impatient tapping feet against the steel walkway. All you notice is the way Bucky pulls away slowly as if he’s afraid he’ll never feel your lips against his again.

Everything happens too fast and too slow at the same time. Bucky’s eyes are glazed over and you’re sure yours are too. His hand drops from your cheek and the back of your head, your fingers uncurl from his shirt as the safety bar is lifted. Unbuckling the seat belt you watch breathlessly as he stands up before turning to you and holding his hand out. Taking hold you giggle as he pulls you up. Your legs are shaky from nerves at being up so high, but he doesn’t let you fall, would never let you fall as his hands reach out to grasp your waist in an attempt to steady you. Still a little shaky when you follow him down the three steel steps you take a deep breath when your feet land on concrete. Finally on solid ground again.

Turning to watch the Ferris wheel continue its slow descent you’re mesmerized by the lights, by the people growing smaller and smaller as the ride goes higher and higher. Standing on the ground looking up it doesn’t look so scary anymore.

“Bucky? I think we should go back on it,” you said, turning your attention back to him.

“What about your fear of heights?”

Pursing your lips to the side you know that you can handle it if he’s by your side and you don’t look down.

“I know, but you never got to see the view from up top and if you tell me I was the view I’ll smack you,” you teased.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, darlin’.” He replied and you don’t miss the hesitancy in voice.

The fact is you know he’s probably right. You’re not sure you can stomach another round of the ride operator carelessly swinging the chair. Not sure if you can stomach being so high up, but you also know that his earlier words were true. It is important to do things that scare you at least once a day and how bad could the second time be? You already know what to expect.

“Maybe not, but I want to. Wasn’t it you who gave me that speech about conquering fears? I’ll be fine. I promise.”

You don’t quite believe the words and by the way his eyes are appraising you you can tell he doesn’t either.

“That was different,” he sighed.

“Please? I want to do this for you.”

Without giving him a chance to object you grab his hand pulling him to the back of the line. Your hand never leaves his, your heart never stops pounding, your breath never quite coming out in the slow steady way it should. But none of that stops your feet from moving forward every couple of minutes when the line shifts.

Ignoring the pointed stare of the ride operator you slide into the seat with Bucky right at your side. And when the safety bar comes down and you see Bucky giving you one more look that says you don’t have to do this you only kiss his cheek before laying your head on his shoulder.

Much like last time the chair swings every couple of minutes with jerky movements anytime someone gets on or off and when you stop at the top you can hear Bucky suck in a deep breath. You may have been willing to go on again, but you know there’s no way you’re looking down. Burying your head in his neck you close your eyes focusing instead on the way he smells like sun and sweat and woods. To anybody looking at you all they would see was a couple in love.

Unsure if it’s the fact you’re curled up next to Bucky or that this is your second time, but the ride seems to move faster and before you know it you’re back at the bottom and stepping off the ride.

“How was the view?” You asked once your feet make contact with the solid ground again.

“Better the first time.”

Knitting your eyebrows together it takes you a second, but when you get it you slap his shoulder playfully.

“Shut up,” you teased.

Leaning down he kisses you softly. “Come on, I wanna win my best girl the biggest stuffed bear they have.”

#gallifreys700 #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #my writing

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madamebaggio · 5 years ago

Photo

Notes: I DID IT!!!

YES!

Anyway...

Previously.

Guys, this is serious SMUT. Like I went ALL OUT, PULLED ALL THE STOPS, MADE THEM GET DOWN AND DIRTY!

So fair warning, this gets intense.

BTW I literally just finished this and I didn’t even re-read it. So it’s probably full of mistakes. Let me know if something is really bad.

***

Sansa was not okay. She’d never be okay again.

She was NOT BEING DRAMATIC!

Oh lord!

She’d let her boss finger her at a wedding!

She was pretty sure this was going to count against her when the higher powers were deciding if she should go to heaven or hell.

She was going to hell for it. She was convinced.

The biggest problem was that Sansa didn’t know who she could talk to about this. She needed to talk to someone but...

Normally she’d go to Marge, but now that she knew that Vortigern knew the Baratheons she felt awkward. Not that she thought Margaery would go around telling the whole family about it, but…

God, this was terrible.

But she could do this. She’d pretend nothing ever happened; it was the mature thing to do.

“Miss Stark.” Mr. Pendragon stopped by her desk as soon as he arrived.

She gave him her most polite smile. “Good morning, Mr. Pendragon. How can I help?”

He was looking at her, trying to see something… “I need to talk to you. My office.”

Oh god. That was it.

She followed him in silence, proud of herself for not tripping and managing to act as if everything was normal.

The door closing behind her felt like a sentence.

She sat on the chair across from him, the desk -that damned desk -separating them. Mr. Pendragon was watching her intently, but he was in silence.

“Mr. Pendragon?” She prodded gently, as if this was just another work meeting.

He sighed. “I have to apologize, Miss Stark.”

Oh shit.

“Mr. Pendragon…”

He raised his hand and she shut up. “I don’t go around seducing my -very young -secretaries. What I’ve done is unforgivable, and I do apologize for that.”

She didn’t say anything, waiting for what he’d say after.

“I understand if you feel uncomfortable working for me.” He continued when she didn’t say anything. “I can transfer you to another sector, or even find you a job in another place…”

“Mr. Pendragon!” Sansa protested, when she couldn’t help herself anymore. “There’s no need for that. It was…”

He waited in silence while she tried to find a word that wouldn’t make this all worse.

“It was something that happened…” She continued, trying to keep a semblance of control. “I don’t want to be transferred, and I believe in you.”

Vortigern sighed. “I don’t want to transfer you, or fire you, Miss Stark.” He finally said. “However, I can’t ignore what happened. Despite of what you might say, my conduct was highly inappropriate, for a vast number of reasons.”

Sansa swallowed nervously.

“If you say this won’t affect your work, I’ll take your word for it.” He assured her. “However, you don’t need to force yourself to stay if it’ll make you uncomfortable.”

Having this conversation was making her uncomfortable, but she couldn’t say that. Not when he was being mature and discussing it with her.

“Mr. Pendragon, I’m fine. I want to get back to work.” She assured him. “I assure you I have no problems with working with you from here on.”

Vortigern stared at her in silence for a long time, and Sansa could imagine him weighing his options. Should he believe her?

Or should he send her away?

She reacted too fast, but… Would it actually be better if she stopped working directly with him?

“Fine.” He decided at last. “I’ll believe you, Miss Stark. We’ll push past this… Incident.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pendragon.”

***

Sansa couldn’t lie: the first few days after the wedding were uncomfortable and charged, but soon things went back to normal.

When two weeks had passed, she hardly thought about it.

Fine, she still thought about it a lot. But only when she was alone in her apartment, far from him.

In those moments, her thoughts would go crazy and she’d wonder and wonder…

Why had he done it? He didn’t seem drunk.

Did he think it was a mistake because she worked for him or because of her age?

What did he think of her now?

Would she ever feel the same thing again?

Because this was the scariest part of it all; in that stolen moment at the wedding, with just his fingers in her, Sansa felt pleasure like she’d never felt before. Sex had never been that intense to her -ever! What if she never felt the same thing again?

This was a depressing thought, but Sansa couldn’t linger on it.

Mr. Pendragon -for his part -was still the same boss as he was before. If one were to look at him, they’d never imagine something had transpired at all.

Sansa figured she was managing to keep her cool well, considering no one had said a thing to her.

On a Friday night -almost three weeks after the wedding -she was working over hours with Mr. Pendragon. They’d have a big event in two months, and they were going over the list of guests together.

It was night already and the office was silent, as only the two of them remained there. Mr. Pendragon had told Sansa to order food a while ago, and they ate and continued working.

It was almost 9 when he stopped and checked his watch. “You should go, Miss Stark. I hadn’t meant to keep you this long.”

“It’s fine.” Sansa assured him. “I actually prefer working overtime to finish this sooner.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “You’re always so dedicated, Miss Stark.”

Oh shit…

“Thank you, Mr. Pendragon.” She told him, her voice overly bright. “Should we finish this…”

“No. I don’t want to go home too late.” He decided getting up. “And you’re young, Miss Stark. You should be getting ready to go out on a Friday night, not working.”

Sansa scoffed before she could stop herself. “I’m sorry, Mr. Pendragon, but you must be confusing me with someone who actually has a social life.”

They started putting laptops and papers away, but Vortigern was clearly interested in the subject.

“Not possible. You have friends in London, don’t you?”

“I do.” She assured him, also standing up. “But I don’t have the energy to go to clubs or pubs anymore.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Have I been making you work that hard?”

“No.” She denied quickly. “It’s the place. Loud music, people talking at the same time, idiots that don’t understand what ‘no’ means.”

“Sounds exhausting.” He agreed, but Sansa couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or not. “Then I recommend a book and tea.”

“Already in my schedule, Mr. Pendragon.” She affirmed, making Vortigern chuckle.

“So I won’t keep you from it any longer, Miss Stark.”

Just then his phone rang and Sansa reflexively reached for it, but Vortigern put his hand on top of hers, stopping her from actually answering it.

“It’s late. Catia would call my mobile if she needed me.” He said. “Whoever is calling can wait until Monday now.”

“If you say so, sir.” She replied, her voice a bit breathless.

He must have heard something in her voice -exactly what she wished he wouldn’t hear. The phone stopped ringing, but he didn’t let go of her hand. Actually his fingers closed around her wrist. “Miss Stark, you really should go home.”

His voice felt like a caress, and Sansa knew -she really did -that she had to take a step back and break this spell, but...

If he wasn’t doing his part, why should she?

“I… I’m not sure I want to.” She confessed in a whisper.

He brought her wrist to his mouth, and she could feel his breath hitting her skin. “Last chance.” He warned, dropping a kiss to the delicate skin.

Sansa swallowed dryly. “I’m staying.” She decided.

Vortigern let her feel his teeth on her wrist. “You’re staying?” He prodded.

“I’m staying, Mr. Pendragon.” She amended, her eyes burning with desire.

“Yes, you are.”

He pulled her to him, kissing her hard.

Sansa thought her inebriated imagination had made her remember the whole thing better than it had actually been. Now she realised it had actually been that good.

His mouth was demanding, but he wasn’t rough. Sansa melted on his arms, her lips opening to him all too eager.

Vortigern’s hands travelled down her hips, passing her arse and thighs, to pull her pencil skirt up, bunching it around her waist.

Sansa never wished more that she actually wore sexy lingerie.

Vortigern pushed her gently, and her legs bumped on that damned desk. She didn’t need further encouragement to sit on it.

Vortigern was running his hands over her practical pantyhose, a smirk on his lips. He pulled it and her panties down her legs and Sansa was only happy to help him along, kicking off her shoes, raising her hips.

She felt completely reckless, sitting there with most of her clothes, but with her cunt exposed like this.

Vortigern ran teasing fingers up her inner thighs. “If I remember it correctly…” He murmured, leaning closer to her. “This is what you like.”

His finger found her clit, caressed it in a tease. “Mr. Pendragon…” Sansa sighed softly.

“Yes, Miss Stark?” He bit her chin gently.

“Please…” She asked as his fingers kept just lightly touching her where she craved his attention. “Please, I need more.”

“More of what?” He pressed. “This?” His thumb circled her clit, this time firmer.

“Yes, sir, please.” She mewled.

“So polite, Miss Stark.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “So sweet. You do deserve your reward.”

He put more pressure on her clit, rubbing it in circles, as he dropped kisses to her neck.

When he finally let a finger sink into her cunt, Sansa was already a mass of needy whimpers, legs spread shamelessly so he could have all the access he needed.

Once he put a second thing in her, Sansa had a hard time keeping her eyes open. She didn’t want to stop looking -she was fascinated by his face as he watched her -but her mind was getting foggy as her body climbed higher and higher.

Her thighs were trembling and she could feel sweat all over her body, but she didn’t care, because this was happening again and it felt even better than the last time…

Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, and Sansa would’ve probably screamed her lungs out with Vortigern hadn’t covered her mouth with his, drinking her sounds of pleasure.

He kept fucking her with his fingers, causing little explosions inside her. Sansa whined when he pulled his fingers out.

“Good girl, Miss Stark.” He praised, making her glow.

Vortigern offered her the fingers he’d used to make her come. Sansa opened her mouth obediently and sucked his fingers clean. She’d never tasted herself before, but she found out she didn’t mind it, if it was on Vortigern’s fingers.

“You’re a work of art.” Vortigern cupped her face and brought her in for a kiss.

Sansa felt pampered by the way he did it, so attentive and powerful.

Vortigern pulled her blouse off, letting her in the boring practical blue bra she’d put on that morning. Sansa didn't have much time to be forlorn about her bad underwear choices, because he quickly got rid of it too.

His bigs hands cupped her tits, his fingers rolling her nipples. Harry -her last boyfriend -had always treated her breasts as his personal pillows, squeezing them painfully, even when Sansa complained about it.

But not Vortigern. His touch was assured, but it wasn’t painful. She felt revered by his touch, aroused beyond reason. He dropped a gentle kiss to her nipple.

“Lay back.” He ordered.

Sansa shivered as she did as told. Vortigern opened a drawer and grabbed a condom. (Apparently her boss was really ready for anything.)

“Are you still fine, Sansa?” He asked seriously.

“Yes, sir.” She told him.

“Good.” Vortigern opened his pants, freeing his cock.

It was the first time Sansa saw it and his cock was as impressive as she’d always hoped it would be. Long and thick enough she knew it’d feel good when he pushed into her.

Vortigern pumped himself a few times, before rolling the condom down his cock. He pushed Sansa’s legs wide open, then pushed his cock against her cunt, not inside her yet, just gathering her wetness, teasing her with what she was about to feel.

“Mr. Pendragon.” Sansa whined. “Please, sir, please.”

“Tell me what you want, Miss Stark, and it’s yours.” He promised her.

“I want you inside me.” She asked, no shame or reservations left at this point.

“Since you asked so nicely…”

He pushed into her, painfully slow. It was like he was savoring every inch of the way, letting her feel him taking her body.

Sansa squirmed and he held her by the hips, making it quite clear she had to wait. When he was finally fully inside her, Sansa felt breathless with anticipation.

Vortigern pulled back almost all the way out, before pressing in her again. Sansa’s breathing grew labored as he slowly fucked her.

Her legs were trembling from being spread over, but she realised he was enjoying the sight of his cock fucking her, so she wasn’t about to move.

“Miss Stark.” He pushed into her a bit harder than before. “Suck your fingers, then touch yourself.”

Sansa hurried to comply, making her fingers wet, before using them to play with her clit.

That was about the time that Vortigern started fucking her for real.

His thrusts became harder and faster, his hands would probably leave bruises on Sansa’s pale skin, but she didn’t care. His name fell from her lips in a litany, mixed with her begging for more.

She’d never been like this, she’d never felt this way; as if her soul was about to leave her body.

“Be a good girl, Miss Stark.” Vortigern ordered breathless -and Sansa was pleased to see he was also losing his cool. “Come for me. Now.”

He should not have this kind of power over her, but he did anyway. It was like his voice had a grip on her and it made her tip over the edge, fall into the orgasm that had been growing inside her.

It was his name she called when she came, and he returned the favor when he came a few moments later.

Sansa was spent.

Vortigern caressed her thighs as he pulled away, then took care of the condom. Sansa wondered if she had the strength to sit up, but it seemed unlikely.

(She didn’t even want to consider the mess and they’d have to…”

“Miss Stark.” He sounded so serious again.

“Yes?”

Vortigern offered her a hand and helped her sit up, then pulled her against his chest.

He was taking care of ehr after, and it just showed how shitty Sansa’s past boyfriends were that she thought this was beyond incredible.

He cuddled her to his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head. His hand caressed her back, and Sansa had to fight to stay awake.

“Sansa, don’t sleep.” He ordered. “You need to pay attention.”

That definitely woke her up. Oh God, was this the moment he was going to say this was a mistake and call her a…

Vortigern cupped her face. “I can see you’re panicking. Stop.” It was ridiculous how one word from him and she was calmer. “Tomorrow you’ll come to my house -let’s say at 3 -then we’ll discuss this.”

“Yes, Mr. Pendragon.” She replied automatically.

He smirked at her again. “Good girl, Miss Stark.”

He was going to be the death of her.

#madame baggio #crackship #CrossOver #Crossover Pairings #modern au #fanfiction #posted on ao3 #game of thrones #king arthur legend of the sword #Sansa Stark #vortigern #Sansa x Vortigern #dont stand so close to me

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writingfortoomanyfandoms · 5 years ago

Text

Black and Blue - One

Pairing: Detective Loki x Reader

Summary: She saw the world in black and blue

Requested: Nope

Chapter Warnings: Some swearing I think??, panic attack

A/N: so guys... there’s been a lot leading up to this yaknow - the first part of my Detective Loki series!! I’m so excited to share this with all of you at last, I’m really looking forward to this series (I say series but I mean miniseries there’s not gonna be that many parts) but please remember to let me know what you think of it!!! Like, reblog, comment, send asks because they really inspire me to write more and I love talking to you guys :)

Two // Three // Four // Five

Y/N Y/L/N saw the world in black and blue.

Purple and yellow.

Bruised and unbruised.

Moving to Conyers had been simultaneously the scariest thing she had ever done and the best thing.

Every step she took in Conyers felt like a triumph. Every time she would turn the key to her apartment it felt like she had accomplished something great.

And yet so much of her believed it was too good to be true.

The bakery was her haven. The bread her safe place, the brownie’s her comfort, the pastries her joy.

She made friends. Regular customers would come in and ask her how she was doing, but not in the way that she was accustomed to. No sympathetic head tilt, no unsure smiles, no tiptoeing around the truth.

Y/N liked that. The unknowing. The blank space she could fill now with baked goods.

The kids loved her. And the teenagers. Mainly because she gave them free food when they came in looking too stressed or too sad - she remembered that that was like.

And that was how she met the Dovers.

///

“Good morning Y/N!” Grace chirped as she ushered her family into the bakery. Y/N turned away from the oven, hot tray still in hand.

“Morning!” She beamed.

“That smells good,” Grace told her as Y/N placed the tray down.

“It’s a new recipe I’m trying out - well, not really a new one, my grandma usd to make it for me but always refused to give me the recipe,” she laughed. Anna’s nose was pressed up against the glass, her eyes searching the Aladdin’s cave o sweet delights.

“It looks good,” Keller confirmed, his hands coming to rest almost protectively on Anna’s shoulders.

“What are they?” Ralph asked curiously.

“Cardamon cookies,” Y/N told him, filling up a box with the Dovers’ usual order.

“So, Thanksgiving tomorrow, any place?” Grace asked, looking through her wallet distractedly. Y/N winked at Anna and Ralph as she snuck four of the still-hot cardamon cookies into the the box, knowing that Grace and Keller would protest and insist upon paying.

“I don’t celebrate it,” Y/N admitted with a laugh.

“Why?” Anna asked, staring at the box in Y/N’s hand.

“It’s not really a thing back home,” Y/N shrugged, her mind wandering back to snapshots of the childhood she had left behind in the wide, green expanse of the English countryside.

She missed home more than she would never allow herself to admit.

“You should spend it with us!” Grace said with a warm smile. Y/N looked up in surprise to see Keller nodding along in agreement.

“We always go to the Birches and spend it there but they wouldn’t mind you joining us,” Keller added.

“That’s a lovely offer but I don’t want to intrude,” Y/N argued, walking over to the coffee machine.

“You wouldn’t be! Nancy always makes too much food anyway,” Grace promised her.

“Please come, Miss Y/N,” Anna added with wide-eyed innocence.

Y/N hesitated, looking around at the Dovers who were watching her expectantly. She let out a long sigh before conceding with a nod of her head.

“Okay.”

Perhaps it was time for her to allow herself to leave her haven for a little while.

///

Nothing in the world could have ever prepared her for this.

The rest of the evening had been bordering on perfect. The Birches had welcomed her with open arms, their enthusiasm only increasing when they realised she had come laden with three pumpkin pies and cream.

She had done her usual trick of skirting around Keller and Franklin as best she could by offering Nancy help in the kitchen, which had been accepted with great appreciation.

When dinnertime conversation had, somewhat inevitably, turned to her she spoke of her plans for turning her little bakery into more of a cafe with tables and chairs and an array of drinks rather than just coffee. She caught herself before it was too late, though, heat crawling up her cheeks as she turned the conversation back around to the subject of the Birches’ home, something which she knew to be safe territory.

Then, instead of heading home as so much of her was screaming to do, she squashed her nerves down into a tiny box, deciding to them them there for the evening and not let them dictate her life for the first time in a while.

Not let him dictate her life.

Instead, she had joined the group of parents in the living room, talking and laughing over subjects not quite appropriate for conversations with kids present.

And then, so quickly, everything had gone wrong.

She went with Grace back to her home to look for Anna and Joy. She caught her when Grace almost fell on her weak, Bambi-like legs upon not finding the two young girls and allowed the older woman to cry her worry into her for a moment.

Y/N had been the one to call the police.

The families were too distraught, their words too shaky, their voices too close to tears for them to explain the situation to the operator.

When Ralph had begged her to stay she knew there was no way that she could deny him that. Not when his parents were in the state that they were.

Y/N made buckets of tea.

That was her solution to everything. A band aid of liquid. For months of her life she had filled herself up on tea, painting her insides pale brown to cover up the bleak darkness that lay underneath. The delicate aromas doing their best to replace the undeniable stench that she would never totally be able to loose.

She was her mother’s daughter in the tea brewing.

It was only once they had gotten the call to say that the police had caught the driver of the RV that Y/N went home.

She had expected that to be the end of it, her part in the whole drama should have been over seeing as though she was just a friend of the families rather than a relation of either girl. But she got a phone call early the next morning from the detective working the case saying that she needed to come in to five a statement and be put through a lie detector test.

Y/N had agreed pretty much immediately, though there was no denying how her palms instantly became sweaty, recalling the last time that she had been taken to a police station.

The last time she had been put through a lie detector.

Back home.

Her knee bounced insistently up and down as she sat in the waiting room of the police station. Her eyes darted sporadically around the room, seeing everything but taking in nothing.

“Miss Y/L/N? I’m Detective Loki, we spoke on the phone?” Y/N stood as the tall man addressed her, taking his offered hand with a quick, nervous shake before dropping it back to the other, tangling her fingers together. Her eyes fixed on his lips as they moved to form words, not daring to raise them higher than that.

“Yes, of course. Just Y/N is fine, though,” she responded, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Right. Follow me,” Y/N did as instructed, her mind wandering as they walked seemingly endlessly down the hallways of the police station, only rarely crossing anyone else.

She wanted to ask how long it would take - she had a shipment arriving of tables, chairs and another coffee machine that she had placed weeks ago but had been continually delayed. She needed to be there when it arrived but she didn’t want to ask the detective anything.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” Loki said, gesturing for her to take the seat on the opposite side of the table to him, next to the man operating the lie detector.

Y/N didn’t need a lit detector to hear the untruth in his voice.

“Not as all,” she promised softly, her eyes fixing now on the grimy table between them.

“I just have a few questions for you about last night,” he opened his notepad and Y/N nodded.

“Anything to help,” she tried to hide how her breath quickened.

Her eyes moved from their placed locked on the table to search the room for an escape.

Just in case, she told herself.

Old habits die hard.

The first few questions were standard, simple answered that Y/N was used to having to answer by now. She pushed down the memories that tried to come to the surface as best she could, squeezing her eyes closed desperately.

“Is there something wrong, Miss Y/L/N?” Loki broke off from questioning to ask the woman. Y/N swallowed thickly and shook her head.

“No,” her voice was hoarse. “I arrived late to the meal because I had to close up shop,” she answered the previously asked question, wishing herself as far away from the police station as possible. There was a pause from the detective and Y/N hated herself for her panic causing a break in questioning.

He had to find the girls as quickly as possible and she didn’t want to be the reason for the investigation to be slowed down even just a little bit.

“Right.” Loki said unsurely and from the corner of her eye, Y/N saw the lie detector operator shrug his shoulders. “And where is it that you work?”

“The bakery up the road.”

The remainder of the interview passed in a blur with Y/N answering questions almost on autopilot.

She stumbled out of the confined room as soon as she was unhooked from the machine and crashed against the wall of the hallway, pressing her back to it and desperately gasping for breath. She slid down the wall to the floor, her eyes squeezed tight shut as she desperately attempted to gain control of her breathing. She pressed her forehead to her knees, willing herself to calm down, wishing herself away from the police station and from all the memories it forced to the surface.

She wasn’t trapped anymore.

#prisoners #prisoners 2013 #detective loki #detective loki fanfiction #detective loki imagine #detective loki x reader #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal x reader #Black and Blue series #detective loki mini series

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httpcegan · 5 years ago

Text

This took fucking months to finish because my inspiration left my ass high and dry towards the ending and was harder to find than Jesus Christ in a whore house like fuck, I'm glad as shit to get this trash out of my damn drafts.

Warning: Gore but not like super graphic, dark Carl (like dark Carl) and Negan is a warning on his own

Also, here is how I picture Mikey:

Beat up white air max sneakers skid along the alleyway’s pavement at a quick pace almost hard enough to leave black scuff marks on the tan cement. The owner of the shoes pants and wheezes, out of breath as he’s clearly unfit for his opponent, though determinedly doesn’t stop in his haste to get away. If he remembers right, just a little further up and with one sharp turn to the left, he should be hitting where the alley lets out to a main road and all he’ll have to do from there is dodge a few cars and he’ll be home free. The boy reaches the corner in little to no time but as he rounds it, he’s met with a solid brick wall. It’s enough to make his stomach drops.

He swears he can feel his heart lurching in his throat.

Something isn’t right here, he knows these alleyways like the back of his fucking hand.

He’s been running them for longer than he can remember.

Suddenly, a laugh echoes it’s way to his ears. It bounces from the walls opposite of the alley as footsteps sound shortly after it.

The kid puts his back to the wall, all he can do is wait to greet his fate as one would death.

Mikey has never really been one for religion, he’s only been to his nonna’s baptist church probably a total of five times his entire life and never has he actually opened a bible before (let alone read one) but right now, he’s praying to whatever higher being that he’s been told lurks in the shadows and works behind the curtain that this man doesn’t catch him. If he does, Mikey only hopes for a quick bullet to the head as some sick form of mercy once the information spiels from his lips, because he knows if he is caught and spared by this man, there will be hell to pay by someone who’s far less merciful.

Fear pumps through his veins, his blood runs cold and his face visibly pales as he hears what can only be the sound of a second set of footsteps that follow behind the first. Fuck. He’s so fucked. There’s a moment of silence were both sets of footsteps come to a halt and it’s so quiet that Mikey can hear the sound of his heart beating rapidly against the base of his eardrums, it leaves a feeling of uneasiness. The moment of silence is brief and short-lived as the footfall starts up again but this time they are accompanied by whistling.

The tune is a familiar one, take me out to the ball game, his nonno use to hum and whistle it around the house during baseball season. He had always sought a nostalgia appeal from the song, it reminding him of easier days, but right now it has his stomach curling and heart in his throat. He sees the two silhouettes bleeding into the pavement as the men inch closer before they stop once again, the whistling meeting its end as well. It's an unspoken gesture, one that signifies no turning back.

“Do you know what I hate, Simon?” A voice questions, the tone is sharp, demanding of all attention and receiving it as so, a skill that must take years to perfect. “No boss, what?” another voice, Simon apparently, chimes in.

“An alley rat.”

Two men round the corner in unison, but the one on the right is undoubtedly the boss. Mikey can tell from the way the man’s presence bleeds power, how his shoulders stand firm with purpose and how his whole demeanor oozes confident. The alleyway is poorly lit so Mikey can’t get a good look at the man’s face, he does manage to make out a sharp jaw-line that is covered in 5 o'clock shadow with hints of grey strings.

“You like my new investment?” the man smirks pointing a glove covered finger in the direction behind Mikey, at the brick wall that is what currently has him caged. Mikey swallows hard, his heartbeat speeding up, even more, that is if it were possible, and he’s afraid he just might go into cardiac arrest at this point. Minutes stretch on in a manner that is too slow and it dawns on him a bit too late that the man actually wanted a response. “A quiet one huh? That’s alright, I absolutely fucking hate small talk anyway," the man pauses, a shit-eating grin stretching across his face before he continues on. "So let’s get down to business, who in the actual fuck gave you the go to sell on my turf?” he questions with a tilt of his head to the side.

There’s a certain authority to his voice that almost makes Mikey’s legs shake and teeth chatter. "Cause it sure as shit wasn't me and I know my right-hand man, Simon here didn't give you permission so I'm curious as to who the fuck told you that you could?" the man continues on, grinning big and wide, it's beginning to make Mikey uncomfortable, he feels like he's staring at the Cheshire cat himself. A more dark and twisted version but the Cheshire cat no less. “I-I’m not at authority to say.” Mikey mentally pats himself on the back for not letting his words quiver too much.

The response does earn a raised eyebrow in turn from the man--or the Cheshire cat man as Mikey has nicknamed him in his head. There’s amusement filtering in on his expression but Mikey would be a fool to assume it meant he was off the hook. “Look kid, it’s been a long night. Just give us a name and we won’t even hurt ya, at least not this time.” The other man, Simon, finally slips out of his blank expression and into a grin himself, one that is wide like a shark's. The corners of his lips are pulled back too far and too tight for the grin to be even remotely close to genuine it almost looks painful. Mikey doesn’t allow his gaze to linger on Simon for too long, he’s not as big of a threat as the other man is, he’s the one who calls the shots after all.

The alleyway is quiet, aside from the loud blare of honking horns and the distant chatter of pedestrians on the other side of the wall. Mikey thinks about screaming but the thought is quickly dismembered and embalmed when he's reminded of just how easy and fast it would be for these men to simply cut out his tongue or maybe slit his throat if they felt up to the mess. But even if he did scream, It’s not like people would help him anyway, not on this side of town. You’d be a fool if you still haven’t managed to perfect the skill of turning the other cheek on the South side of Boston. "I really can't say, they'll kill me," Mikey says as calmly as he can but on the inside the thought of what they'd do to him has him wishing for something--for anything to happen.

Nothing ever does.

The Cheshire cat man loses his grin, it quite literally plummets from his face and he's fixing Mikey with a hard stare. It's one of the single most scariest things he's ever seen in his short pathetic life and part of him knows these aren't the type of men to ask a third time. The boy is so focused on the man glaring at him that he doesn't even see the fist that Simon hurls in his direction.

Mikey isn’t sure where he is, the place is dimly lit and smells like a mixture of mildew and iron-- or maybe it's blood he’s smelling. He isn’t sure how long he’s been here either, he's been out cold since the alley. He had only woken up just a few moments ago when Simon had all but shoved him into a chair and woke him up with a few rough slaps to the face. The two of them hadn't even given him time to process things before they got to work. At first, they started off with beatings, little hit here big hit there, things Mikey could handle but when they realized they wouldn’t get much progress from that they tried a new method. They began taking, no– actually ripping off each fingernail painfully slow, leaving his fingertips a bloody mess and him a wailing one. It hurt like hell, but Mikey wouldn't make so much as a peep about his boss.

When it didn’t work, they brought in a pair of pliers and began breaking a finger with each unanswered question, when that failed they moved down to his toes. Still with not one question answered they've grown agitated and Mikey knows it if them spending what has to be an hour of resetting and then breaking his fingers along with toes again before repeating the process over and over again says anything. His throat feels raw from screaming so hard and loud, his eyes ache from the amount of crying and he’s not completely all there. His mind is drifting between blurred lines and consciousness. When they come back, Mikey knows he’s as good as dead.

“I think I’m gonna take a few souvenirs.” the Cheshire cat man tells Simon with a sick grin, there’s a certain glint in his eye as he speaks, one that can’t quite be categorized. Mikey feels like throwing up. With one glance down Mikey sees it, in his hand is a machete and in the other is a lighter. Mikey watches while barely being able to hold his head up. The man lights the blade part of the machete a few times and then he stops.

Mikey just barely comprehends that the man has moved toward him before he's letting out one of the worst screams that he has all night. Looking down at his right hand, the machete’s blade has been dropped down right onto his fingers. Three are gone and one is just barely hanging on by the little thread of skin there. He screams until his vocal cords feel like they won't ever work again.

He screams with everything he’s got left in him, but in all retrospect, it probably sounds about as loud as a clatter of pans on carpeted floor to outsiders.

His screams have just begun to subside to broken off sobs when the man picks the machete back up. He edges closer to Mikey’s other hand but the boy is quick in balling his hand into a fist, hiding his fingers. “Wait! Pl-please wait!” he begs, tears streaming down his face. The man heeds the plea, tilting his head off to the side momentarily as if he’s waiting.

Mikey breaks.

He whispers a name, he whispers it so quietly that he doubts the man heard.

The man does hear him though.

Mikey watches as he drops the machete down onto a table not too far away, it looks like he’s about to turn and leave but Mikey calls out to him.

“Kill me, please,” he begs but gets no response, only the sobering sound of a steel door slamming shut. Mikey gives one last wailing scream.

These men are cruel, Mikey has come to understand as much as he stumbles through the large mansion while they trail behind. He can’t feel his toes and he can hardly keep his balance. He knows that if he looks down he can see the white meat of his toes and maybe a bone or two piercing through the flabs of skin. The boy is pressing a once white, but now completely stained red, rag to where his fingers should be. The bleeding has stopped at this point but the wound throbs almost unbearably painful without pressure. He has foregone shoes seeing as he couldn't exactly walk in them even if he wanted to.

It didn’t take the two men long to find and infiltrate his boss’s home, it obvious that they weren’t just some small time dummies but instead some higher up men, though he finds that least scary about this entire situation. The scariest part to him is what his boss is going to do to him once he realizes he was the one who gave the name.

The thought nearly brings tears to Mikey’s eyes.

This wasn’t how he planned for his life to end, he’s only seventeen with a two-month-old baby girl waiting on him back at home.

He only got into this life for her, because nobody else would take on a seventeen year old high school drop out with a baby to work.

Work was hard to find, and bills were stacking up. There was only so much his grandparents could do, babies were expensive, so he saw a chance and took it. He joined low in the ranks. Just a crew lackey moving and distributing the crank. He was never supposed to be on the frontlines. This wasn’t the fucking plan.

Mikey’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt as a figure appears from around the corner in front of them.

The person is of a rather short build, with slightly board shoulders that seem to be covered by locks of overflowing brunette hair.

Mikey doesn’t even want to get started on the curves they have, the kind that could easily be hidden with baggy clothes but the sheer see-through silk robe that they’re wearing does not offer the same comfort.

The person haven’t noticed the three of them trailing behind them, has they continue down the hall at least that is until Simon’s boss speaks up.

“Well damn, this is a lovely surprise. Why don’t you turn around for us now little Ms.” The man instructs with a whistle.

The person halts in their steps before slowly turning around and it’s just as Mikey feared. The person standing before them is none other than Carl Grimes. Or as of now, Don Carl Grimes.

The boy doesn’t look the least bit amused by their presence, and instead looks rather annoyed, though not exactly alarmed either.

“Holy shit, you are not a chick, though, not that I mind.” The man continues on and Mikey is starting to think he has a death wish. “Ron, vieni qui piccola.” Carl speaks in a calm tone as his eyes land on Mikey. Fear hits Mikey square in the chest as those scary blue eyes all but size him up.

“Alright sweetheart, listen up, I’m sure none of this envolves you. We’d just like to talk to the man in charge of this pipsqueak.” The man speaks again after a moment of silent before he’s shoving Mikey forward causing the boy himself to almost lose his balance. Mikey stumbles forward, closing the distance between him and Carl before he’s tripping and all but falling into the boy. Carl surprisingly catches him and holds him up against his chest. Mikey isn’t sure why but that’s the moment he chooses to break. Tears fall from his eyes, and hiccups wreck through his body. The position is a bit awkward due to how much taller Mikey is compared to Carl but the other boy still holds him never the less, allowing Mikey to wet the shoulder of his silk robe with tears.

“I’m sorry.” Mikey sobs out repeatedly until his voice is quite literally gone.

Carl only shushes him with a small hand pressed to his back, rubbing soothing circles into his back as one would do an upset child.

Soon enough another person joins the large hall rather hastily. “Yes boss?” The blonde speaks moving to stand at Carl’s side, Mikey barely eyes him though he does catch a glimpse of something shiny on the boy’s hip. The two other men stand in surprise at the boy’s words as if they hadn’t expected to hear that.

“Ron...I thought you said we had the evening cleared.” Carl hums, brushing soft fingers through Mikey’s hair and he can’t help but find the touch comforting.

“That’s because we did.” Ron answers as he looks to Simon and his boss. Mikey feels a sense of relief, surely they’d learn that had fucked with the wrong people. Carl would teach them that.

“Oh, I’m sorry! How goddamn rude of me? My name is Negan, and I don’t appreciate you stealing from me.” The Cheshire Cat man—Negan, speaks up. “Stealing from you?” Carl questions with his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “Your little lackeys have been selling on my turf.” Negan explains and after few moments realization dawns on Carl’s face. The boy nods, “My apologizes, I was not aware that someone had staked claim...” Carl begins in an upmost sincere tone while Negan smirks, “...to areas that have been known to be under the Grimes last name for several years, now if you don’t mind me asking, how is it that you find yourself to be in my home?” Carl shoots back and Negan’s smirk falls.

“Your boy gave us a name, it wasn’t very hard from there.” Negan points a finger at Mikey and the boy tenses.

The boy pauses against Carl’s chest before he’s starting his apologizes right back up.

He’s only meet with a small shush and a soothing hand rubbing at his back again.

He’s flooded with relief as he sobs, the display of mercy is all that he could ask for.

He’s going to see his daughter, he’ll get to see her first steps and hear her first words. He’s going to get out this life after tonight and do better for her.

Strangely enough, Carl hugs him. He holds his head against his chest and just holds him with one hand. Mikey will admit that it is pretty comforting.

Though no one sees it coming when in one shift motion and woth his free hand, Carl takes the gun from Ron’s hip and blows Mikey’s brains out.

The gunshot echoes loudly in the silent hall as Mikey’s lifeless body collapses against him before all but sliding to the floor. Blood and brain matter decorate both Carl and the marble white floor.

The boy only looks displeased at the mess.

“Ron, get rid of him.” Carl says before he’s looking back to a rather shocked Negan and Simon.

“Now boys, give me one reason why you shouldn’t join Mikey over here.” Carl begins.

“Shit that was hot.” Negan blurts as he continues to stare in surprise....

#cegan #negan x carl #negan/carl #narl #outsider pov #orginal character #mafia #carl is Italian #tw: gore #tw: violence #carl is short

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buckleysjareau · 6 years ago

Text

is this what it feels like? (song fic; guts - all time low)

Shooting for the stars,

Desperately reaching for something in the dark,

Pictures of memories buried in my heart,

Lie awake and dream of the endless possibilities,

Catch my breath and go for it

TJ Kippen had it bad for Cyrus Goodman. The smile, the laugh, the excitement. Before they met, TJ had never knew what people were talking about when they talked about the butterflies in their stomach, the feeling of your whole body heating up and the happiness in the chest. Before Cyrus Goodman, he couldn’t understand what it was like to have a crush.

It wasn’t even a crush at that point. Cyrus made TJ feel all of those things and more.

When he met Cyrus, he had no clue what would happen. He was just trying to stay on the basketball team and the only way to do that was if Buffy helped.

He’d get the tutor if Cyrus got the muffin. Then the look on his face when he had the muffin made TJ feel something he’d only over heard from his friends. The twinge in his heart, the butterflies and it scared TJ.

Fast forward to a little over a year later and TJ has admitted to himself; he was so far gone for Cyrus Goodman.

Who wouldn’t be, though?

He closed his eyes, trying to find someway to get to sleep. The only thing filling his mind was Cyrus. What he could have with Cyrus if he wasn’t scared. If his feelings were reciprocated.

If things like that were accepted in a setting such as middle school and high school. He’d get to hold Cyrus’ hand in the hallways and on the streets. He could kiss Cyrus whenever he wanted. He could call him his boyfriend.

It wasn’t that simple, though, was it?

Take apart,

Everything that’s holding me down,

Make a point to pick a new direction, to make a new connection

TJ sat at a picnic table, picking at the ice cream Kira made him buy for the two of them. Kira was gone at that point. Thank God, TJ thought.

Cyrus said he hadn’t been avoiding him but at that point, TJ knew he was. It hurt. It physically hurt and he didn’t know if he could take it anymore.

“Hey, TJ.” He looks up and his heart rate sky rockets at the sight of Buffy Driscoll. He was scared, but he was also hopeful Cyrus was with Buffy and he’d just got side tracked.

“Buffy.” He responds with the best smile he could conjure up. “Is Cyrus with you?”

Buffy raises an eyebrow. “No.”

The disappointment TJ feels is so deep he’s positive it’s showing on his face, and but the look on Buffy’s face, it definitely was.

“Is Cyrus avoiding me?”

TJ has no control over his mouth right then and he’s sure Buffy can see right through him. She definitely can.

Buffy looks as if she’s contemplating something. “Are you and Kira together?” She asks instead.

TJ groaned. “We’re not together.”

“Okay.” Buffy pauses. “Can I ask you something?”

He swallows the lump in his throat before nodding.

“Why are you hanging out with her? She’s not a nice person.” She sighs. “We didn’t get off on the wrong foot at all when we met but I do care about you. I just don’t want you caught up in her storm.”

“I’m aware.” He mumbles. “I wanna stop hanging out with her, but..”

Buffy’s eyes widen when he admits he doesn’t want to be hanging out with Kira and it’s piecing together in her mind.

“But what?”

“She knows something about me and I feel like she’ll tell people if I do?” He shrugs and looks away.

“Is she manipulating you?” Buffy asks with a tone TJ never thought would be used on him. Defensive. Over TJ.

She really did care about him.

“No. I don’t think so.” He thought about it for second before speaking again. “I guess. I didn’t wanna go on the swings the other day but she always seems to know the right thing to get me to do something.”

Buffy’s face softens. “What’s going on? You can trust me.”

And suddenly TJ feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t tell someone how much he liked Cyrus Goodman. He’s going to explode if he doesn’t tell someone and all of the courage he wished he’d had before Costume Day bubbles in his chest as he speaks.

“Buffy, I’m gay. I like Cyrus.” TJ’s eyes screw shut, anticipating the worst case scenario, even though he knows he could trust Buffy.

He feels a hand grab his and he opens his eyes to see Buffy with a soft smile on her face. “That’s okay, TJ. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Please don’t tell anyone.” He begs.

“I would never do that. It’s your choice who you come out to and when.” Buffy pauses. “But, a word of advice, you really need to stop hanging out with Kira. She’s holding you down.”

Yeah, yeah, she was, TJ thinks as he smiles gratefully at his friend.

He couldn’t believe he just called Buffy Driscoll his friend. A lot can change in a year.

Is this what it feels like,

Finding out that I’ve got the guts to say anything,

Feels like breaking out,

When I can give up my reputation

Finally, I can see,

Honestly I’ve got the guts to say anything

Coming out to Buffy had struck something in him. He’d finally said the words and it was the scariest thing he’d ever done but it was okay. Things were okay. He wasn’t struck by lightning, he didn’t spontaneously combust, he was okay. He felt a weight lifted off of his shoulders and he could breathe a little better than he had been before.

What Buffy said, about Kira holding TJ down struck something in him as well.

He’d finally been able to say that word and tell Cyrus’ best friend about his crush on him and that courage hadn’t gone away. He knows the second Kira’s around, though, that courage would be gone and he’d be trapped again.

Kira was holding him down. She was holding him down, holding him back from being okay with himself and who he was, and that needed to change.

Bold enough to fall flat on my face,

When I walk as they crawl,

Slowing down is such a waste of time,

Time to let go,

Tapping my fingers to the rhythm of a metronome,

Counting opportunities

That change was happening today. He asked Kira to meet him at the courts and for the first time since Costume Day, he was actually excited to see Kira.

“Hey!” Kira gave a flirty grin and TJ felt absolutely nothing.

“Hey. We need to talk.” He cut to the chase, because if he hadn’t, he wasn’t sure how long this courage could last.

Kira’s smile dropped. “What’s wrong?”

“We can’t hang out anymore.” Is all TJ can think to say.

“Is this about Cyrus?” She automatically assumes and TJ wants to know just how obvious he really was it came to Cyrus.

TJ shakes his head and sighs in frustration. “No, Kira, it’s not about Cyrus. It’s about me. You’re holding me down. I know you know something about me but you can’t use it against me anymore. Things are different now than they were literally an hour ago because someone told me it was okay.”

Kira tried to smirk. “Told you what was okay? Your little crush on Cyrus?”

TJ freezes when he realizes how loud she’d said that but quickly snapped out of it. “Yes.”

“Whatever, Kippen, have fun with that.” She storms away and he couldn’t believe he’d admitted his crush twice in the span of an hour.

He would have been wasting time if he waited, wasting courage.

It was time to let go of the fear.

Take apart,

The gravity that’s holding me down,

Make a point,

To find a resolution, to be my own solution

He was able to let go of Kira, sure, but wasn’t able to let go of the fear, just yet. Now that Kira was out of his life things with Cyrus had finally been back to normal.

He wanted to tell Cyrus, more than anything, but that courage was nowhere to be found when he was around him. He was nervous, he messed up on his words, he was the definition of a disaster gay, as his sister told him.

He just couldn’t help it, though. Cyrus made him nervous, giddy, flustered; and he didn’t even know it.

He’s at the swings with Cyrus and he’s swinging high and he’s watching Cyrus try to swing higher than him and he wishes he could feel completely free. He wanted to feel as if he was actually flying in that moment and he feared he never could if he didn’t tell Cyrus.

The only thing that would make him feel free was to come out to the one person who never once judged him for anything. It was the only thing to solve the gravity that’s keeping down.

Is this what if feels like,

Finding out that I’ve got the guts to say anything,

Feels like breaking out,

When I can give up my reputation,

Finally, I can see,

Honestly, I’ve got the guts to say anything

The Mack-Quinn family was throwing a party and Cyrus, and surprisingly enough, Buffy begged him to come.

Which is where he found himself, sitting on a bench near the fire pit to keep warm. There were a lot of people in there and Kira had showed up.

She’d apologized and even though TJ forgave her, seeing her there overwhelmed him to the point he couldn’t be around anyone. His mind was going too fast and that overwhelming need to tell Cyrus was back.

“Is this seat taken?” TJ looks up to see Cyrus and he’s distracted by the way the light of the fire touches Cyrus’ face, making him glow.

Cyrus Goodman was an angel.

TJ shook himself out of his gaze and patted the seat next to him.

“Why are you out here all alone?”

TJ shrugs because any words he could say have left his mind. No matter how much he wanted to tell him and felt like he could, the minute he sees Cyrus, it’s out of the window because God, he was in love with Cyrus Goodman and if things changed again because of who he is and his feelings, he wouldn’t know what to do.

He stares at Cyrus. Cyrus was truly a work of art, to put it. A masterpiece. He was good times, happy times, he was everything good in the world made into human form.

Suddenly tears are blocking his vision. He can’t tell if it’s the fear making him cry, or if it’s just how much he truly felt for the boy in front of him.

“TJ? You’re scaring me.”

“Sorry, sorry, Underdog.” He sniffles as he wipes a tear away. “What did you say?”

“I asked why you were out here all alone. It’s freezing.” He states.

TJ hadn’t noticed how freezing it was because his whole body felt warm when he was there.

“Kira apologized to me.” He pauses. “I just needed some time by myself.”

“Oh. I can go.” Cyrus starts to get up but TJ grabs his wrist.

“No, please.” TJ’s voice cracks and Cyrus’ face softens again. “I kind of have something I need to tell you.”

“Okay.. what’s up?”

“Listen, this is really hard to say, but I need to say it to finally feel free.” He gulps. “I, I’m, I like... I’m gay.”

It’s silent. Frustratingly silent and TJ realizes he might have messed up. But Cyrus looked like had to say something as well and TJ hopes he’s just trying to find the right words to be supportive.

“Is there anything you wanna tell me?” TJ prompts after a minute of silence, touching his hand.

Cyrus looks down at their hands and looks up with a soft smile and the butterflies multiply by thousands at that look he was giving him. He could hear his heart beat in his ears and he felt like he was dying, but the funny thing was, despite that, he felt totally free.

He’d told the one person he needed to tell.

“I’m gay too?” Cyrus speaks up in the tone of a question. “You have really nice eyes? I like you, like like you.”

The last statement was said as if he was sure. Sure that he liked him.

The happiness TJ feels can only come out in tears.

“I’m sorry, please don’t let this change us!” Cyrus rushes out when he sees the tears in his eyes but TJ just shakes his head.

TJ’s urge to hold Cyrus’ hand comes overbearing as he reaches down to Cyrus’ hand and grabs it. If he thought the butterflies were a lot before, they were definitely way worse.

TJ cries. “I like, like you so much, Cyrus.”

“You-you do?”

“So much it hurts.” He pauses. “You make me feel things I didn’t think I was capable of feeling. Not to sound cheesy but you’re everything to me, Underdog. I’ve been a little more than lost without you.”

Cyrus doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he gives TJ that small smile that’s full of adoration and he doesn’t know how to breathe. The thing that brings him back down to earth is Cyrus squeezing his hand.

“Can we just stay like this for a little?” TJ sighs with content.

“Of course.”

TJ felt free. He was free.

—————————————————

this is bad and I didn’t know how to separate it with the keep reading thing on the mobile app, but I wanted to post it here anyway. Ao3 link in reblog.

@you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus it’s bad but here :-)

#andi mack #tyrus #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #tyrus one shot

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thatyanderecritic · 5 years ago

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Bad Yandere Stories- Exhibit A

Hey there everyone, Kai and Julie here. It may or may not be obvious but, we’re on a bit of a hiatus at the moment. Not because we’re particularly busy but we’re simply tired and wanted to have a bit of a vacation before school started. But during our little vacation, we discovered [quite possibly] the worst yandere story we have ever seen in our lives. It’s awful and painful to read. Yet the scariest thing about the story is that there are people who would legitimately consider this guy a yandere and find him hot. You might be thinking that we’re simply being overly dramatic or picky, (I’m sure some people out there think we are) but let me tell you… this story has everything a yandere fan would hate. This story breaks every goddamn rule we have on this blog and even broke rules we didn’t even know possible. It’s literally our worst nightmare incarnate. Let’s talk about: A Wife’s Cry (TW: Abuse, rape, other toxic relationship stuff)

A Wife’s Cry is a story about the domestic life between our MC, Vanessa Rio Perez, and her husband, Allen Travis Fajardo. Being a Chinese light novel, Allen here is a wealthy CEO to an airline chain while Vanessa comes from an upper middle class (or lower higher class) family. Very cliched. The two ended up in an arranged marriage and ultimately a loveless life. Vanessa is madly in love with Allen (for some reason), while Allen doesn’t like Vanessa at all and felt indifferent towards her. After being treated like furniture for a long time, Vanessa took matters into her own hands and had an affair with a man who actually loved her. It was then Allen found out about this affair…

It is at this point in the summary, where the story turns south. So major trigger warning for you guys. Normally we don’t do that sort of thing because we’re under the assumption that you can handle some harsher topics, considering the nature of yanderes. But man, this story is rough. Lots of abuse, heartbreaking abuse victim mindset, abuser mindset, glorifying abuse, and if you decide to read this story: graphic abuse scenes. There’s also lots of rape and victim blaming. This shit hurts. So take this into consideration.

Anyways, once Allen found out Vanessa cheated on him HE. BEAT. HER. ASS. Like, he went off the rails and nearly murder the girl. And the kicker is that he doesn’t love her but he kept on tossing around excuses like “I’m trying my hardest to love you but then you have to ruin it”, “This is all your fault”, and “I have to teach you a lesson”. Vanessa just takes this and accepts it as her divine punishment or something… because she loves Allen, ya know? And from this point on, the story is just a cycle of Allen beating Vanessa because of random fits and to relieve his stress. He would also rape her too… because, you know, he’s a nice guy. And Vanessa just takes it and licks his feet because she considers him as a god or something. This shit hurts to read bros. It goes from Vanessa begging for forgiveness as Allen beats her, then to Allen raping her, then to Vanessa going “Man, Allen is such a good guy! He cares for me so much!”

Of course, her family and friends say that all this beating is fucked up but Allen would just tell them to shut the fuck up and watch him continue beating Vanessa… cause you know, he’s a rich- I mean, nice guy. At some point, Vanessa got pregnant with his kid. And as we know the trend, Allen beats her and she lost the kid. Allen goes off the rails and blames her for him landing the punch in her gut. Cause, you know, Vanessa is a wicked woman. Eventually, after all that beating and raping, Allen seems to get bored and put his foot down. He made a “powerful” claim that he loved Vanessa “all this time” but he just didn’t realize it and it was Vanessa’s fault that he was beating her. If Vanessa just waited for Allen to eventually fall in love with her, they wouldn’t be like this. Vanessa, with a bloody face, found herself touched and knew Allen was The One all along. And the two continued in this happy (toxic) relationship…. Happily ever after :)

As everyone can see, this story is a piece of garbage and there’s nothing “yandere” about Allen. He’s a straight up abusive jackass. So… pray tell, Novel Updates… Why is this piece of garbage tagged as “male yandere”? Because Allen is “UwU violent”? Fuck off.

This story is a good example on how NOT to make a yandere story. For one: Straight up abuse isn’t something yandere. But the scary thing… the scary thing is that we know that there’s some fucks out there who would find this hot and sexy. We seen the yandere tag on this god forsaken site, we know that there’s people out there who have an abuse kink. Be into choking, blood, and BDSM. But I don’t think Julie and I can ever understand having abuse as a kink. It just… hurts.

Another bad thing about this story: Pathetic, spineless, idiotic, and bland MC. I know she’s an abuse victim but it’s hard to feel bad for her when she has a peanut as a brain. She’s so fucking stupid and the only thing we can explain for this is that the brain damage from all the beating finally caught up to her. RIP the stocking horse. “I’m sorry, I love Allen. The only reason why I had an affair with you is because you have something Allen doesn’t have… love.” Bitch says what now?

Third bad thing about the story: Fucked world logic. After being told to shut the fuck up by Allen, Vanessa’s friends and family just went along with Allen going “Yeah! Fuck Vanessa. The stupid bitch >:( “ The world just bends for these two and validates Allen’s abuser mentality. The police? Police whom?

And finally, just… no plot. It’s just some angst abuse porn. There’s no entertainment, there is no message, and there’s no lesson. Abusers win and abuse victims should know their places and be happy with it.

Just… what kind of weird author wrote this? Actually, I don’t want to know. But know that this is probably what people outside of the yandere fandom think when they look at the trope. Just some crazy abuser and a braindead MC who’s getting off on it. It’s the stereotype in the flesh… staring at us… mocking us. To each their own, but don’t you dare tag this as “yandere”.

#yandere #male yandere #a wife's cry #light novel #chinese light novel #a bit of a writing analysis #writing tip?#really this story sucks

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golbrocklovely · 6 years ago

Text

only the lonely survive // colby brock - chapter sixteen: i keep telling myself i’m not the desperate type

A/N: sorry this chapter is a bit late. hope you enjoy it nonetheless. please let m know what you think of the story so far. also, i wanted to let you know that i will be posting some request throughout the week. alrighty, enjoy this chapter! see yall later :)

description of the story

taglist: @ajosieface , @localsleeper , @julyrubyrose , @far-to-many-bands , @absolute-randomness-forever

trigger warning: cursing, heartbreak, light smut

word count: 2340

~~~~~~~~~~

DAY 7/14

I lounged around the house for most of the day up until my date with Colby. I showered and got into comfy clothing, since literally all we were going to be doing was sitting around, eating, and cuddling anyway. I fluffed up my pillows and blankets as I cleaned my room quickly. I went to get some snacks and drinks from the kitchen when I saw Casey’s bedroom door opened.

I walked in and flicked the lights on, Casey no where to be seen. I cocked my head to the side as I texted her.

Skye: where did you leave to ???

As I pulled out the snacks, I felt my phone vibrate.

Casey: as if you’re the only one who can get a date

I smirked and rolled my eyes. As I headed back to my room, I heard a knock at the front door. I placed my items down and opened it, coming face-to-face with Colby.

“Hi.” I smiled.

“Hey.” He beamed.

“Come on in. The pizza will be here soon. I hope you don’t mind, but I got stuffed-crust pizza.” I stated, moving to the side and letting him in.

He gasped. “I love stuffed-crust.”

I shut the door and nodded my head softly. “This is why I agreed to go on a date with you.”

He smirked. “It wasn’t for my good looks and charming personality?”

“I mean, that’s cool too, I guess.” I joked, walking over to grab the snacks and drinks again.

Right before I could, Colby slid his hands onto my hips and spun me around to face him. He leaned in quickly and kissed me. I melted into the kiss and wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled away slowly, leaving me breathless.

“I needed to do that.” He whispered.

“…I’m glad you did.” I giggled.

He rubbed his nose against mine, smiling softly. Sneakily, he grabbed the snacks from behind me and pulled away from me, going to my room.

I sighed happily and took the drinks, following him in.

“So, what type of movie should we start with? Horror or comedy?” He asked, smiling brightly as he got comfortable in my bed.

“Horror.” I decided, cuddling up next him.

/ / / /

It had been a solid two hours, filled with snacks, multiple pizza slices, bathroom breaks, and me burying my face into Colby’s neck, cuddling as close to him as I could during the scariest parts of the horror movie.

As the credits started to roll, I groaned. “Am I a dumbass for agreeing to watch a horror movie even though I hate horror movies?”

Colby shook his head, wrapping his arms around me tighter. “Of course not. You’re brave.”

I laughed. “Yeah. I’m so brave for having to cuddle with you the whole time and hide anytime something scary happened.”

“Well, I didn’t mind the cuddles.” He smiled cheekily down at me.

I rolled my eyes, slowly pulling away from him. “That was so cheesy, oh my God.”

“No, no. You don’t get to leave. Stay here with me and all the cheesiness.” He pulled me into him again, throwing his leg over top of me.

I giggled and tried to crawl away, but he rested his body weight on top of me. He chuckled into my neck as I turned around to face him, my back laying on the bed.

“Get off me. You’re heavy.” I scrunched my face, wiggling underneath him.

He gasped. “That’s mean. Now I’m definitely not moving.”

I huffed, accepting it. I stared up at him, as he looked down at me. He slid one hand up and moved a piece of hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. I softly smiled at the gesture as he cupped my cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked quietly, his voice low and sweet.

I nodded. “You don’t have to ask.”

Colby shrugged bashfully and leaned down, gently placing his lips onto mine. They were soft and warm, making my lips tingle with every little touch. His hand drifted down to rest on my lower back, causing me to arch into him. A light moan escaped his lips.

I pulled him closer, my hands resting on his neck and in his hair. I opened my legs, allowing Colby to get even closer to me. My right leg lightly wrapped around his hip. I could feel his whole body press into mine. A heat rose throughout me, causing a light shiver to roll up my spine.

His lips eased down to my neck, leaving delicate kisses. He started to nibble and suck on a spot under my jaw. I could feel his tongue lap at my neck, goosebumps rising as he breathed against me. I shuddered and moaned quietly, keeping my lips pressed together.

“You don’t have to be quiet for me, baby.” He grunted into my ear.

My breath hitched in my throat as he began to attack my neck again. My fingers gripped his shoulders, my nails digging in. His teeth grazed my jaw in light retaliation.

Two can play at this game…

I slowly whined my hips into his, my lower half moving in a circle. He rested for a moment, just feeling me torture him for a few seconds. I could feel his body tense, and then he began to roll his hips into mine. I pulled his mouth back onto my lips, needing to taste him again. His hands now rested on the inside of my shirt, electricity running up the sides of my body. His right hand slid higher until his fingertips reached the underside of my bra. As his hand went to cup my breast, the front door slammed shut.

“Fuck you and get out Brennen!” I heard Casey yell.

Colby lifted his head up towards the noise, sighing deeply as Brennen and Casey continued to argue. He rolled off me and I walked out of my room, fixing my clothes along the way.

“I’m so tired of your shit, Casey! Why won’t you just admit you like me?” Brennen loudly asked.

Casey groaned. “Maybe I don’t like you Brennen! You ever thought of that?!”

“If that’s the case, why the fuck did you go on a date with me?” Brennen questioned.

I jumped in. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, guys. What’s the problem?”

“Brennen has been an ass to me all night and I just want him gone.” Casey stated, pointing at Brennen.

“How have I been an ass to you? I took you out on a nice date and everything has been going fine. It wasn’t until I told you I liked you that all of a sudden you started to flip your shit at me.” He argued.

“I don’t have feelings for you.” She stammered, her voice shaking.

His voice lowered, his tone sweeter this time. “I know you do. You just don’t want to admit it…”

“Get the fuck out of here! Do NOT tell me how I feel or what I should do!” She screamed.

“Fine! If you want me gone, so be it.” He huffed, rolling his eyes harshly.

Colby came out of my room just as Brennen slammed the front door shut. I exhaled, turning to him. “Hey, can you go make sure he’s okay?”

Colby nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” I turned back to Casey, who sat at our kitchen table, her leg bouncing and her arms crossed. "What did he do to make you that upset?"

“I told Brennen the night we hooked up that I didn’t want anything serious. I just wanted a hook up and I was down to do it again with him, but nothing more. When he asked me out on the date, I thought he was just being nice and it was just gonna end with us having sex again anyway. Now he’s telling me he has feelings for me and that I won’t admit mine to him.” She complained.

I pursed my lips. “Is he lying?”

“Of course he is! I don’t like him! All I wanted was sex.” Casey stated.

I paused. “I hate to be the one to ask this… but does this have anything to do with Al-“

“Don’t even say his name.” She angrily muttered.

Oh, Alex… what an asshole.

Alex Kensington was a boy that went to our college. He was nice, a bit of a frat boy, but an overall good guy. He played lacrosse, had decent grades, and majored in business finance. He was beautiful: the softest brown eyes I’d ever seen, a gorgeous smile, and short curly golden locks. One of his best friends was a dancer, which is how he met Casey in the first place. They started dating the moment they met each other. They seemed perfect together.

But of course, I wouldn’t be calling him an asshole if everything was actually perfect.

He had a bit of a jealous side. A lot of the dancers Casey hung out with were boys. He would get upset sometimes that she would be hanging out with them a lot more than him. At first it wasn’t too bad, just a comment or two every so often. But it got worse and worse. Soon, he didn’t want her having any guy friends at all. And because she loved him, she did what he asked.

It wasn’t just her friends he controlled though: it was what she wore, what she posted, what she ate, and even what she was allowed to talk about. He controlled everything about her. She became isolated, only having him in her life. A year into their relationship, she and I became friends because of the musical we were both in. She was hesitant to be my friend, but soon we became inseparable.

He didn’t like me, not that that mattered to me.

I didn’t know how controlling he was until one night she came to my dorm, crying her eyes out. They were at a party and one of her old guy friends came up to her. She tried not to talk to him, but she didn’t want to be rude. Alex saw them talking, and it apparently “hurt his feelings so much”, he decided to cheat on her right then and there. He wanted to teach her a lesson.

That night, she stayed at my place and told me everything about him. That morning, she broke up with him.

The moment they broke up, I saw how much happier she was without him. She began to live her life the way she wanted to again, which was great.

But one thing to note about Casey is that she is petty.

She began to be everything Alex didn’t want her to be, which at first wasn’t bad. She showed her body off more, she became friends with every guy she could, she said what she wanted, and did what she wanted. And then… she started to have sex with any guy she wanted to.

She hasn’t had a serious relationship since Alex. She hooks up with guys and never calls them again. She doesn’t like commitment and thinks it’s a joke. She doesn’t want a boyfriend at all, or any guy for that matter, who’s gonna tell her what to do.

But I know her. She likes commitment. She just scared to be hurt again.

There have been many drunken nights she’s admitted to me, but in the morning, she’ll say it was a joke.

The front door opening again brought me out of my thoughts. I spun around to see Colby coming back in, walking over to me.

He lightly pulled me to the side. “Hey… is it okay if I head out? Brennen is kinda in a bad place and needs to talk. He also kinda wants to get drunk.”

I smiled lightly. “Yeah, go be with your friend. I have to do some damage control here anyway. Besides, we can always have another date.”

“Maybe one not at your place.” He joked.

I giggled and nodded my head. He smiled softly and leaned in, kissing me quickly. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye Colby.” I mumbled, pulling away from him.

“Bye Skye.” He winked, turning around and leaving quickly.

I watched him leave and then turned back to Casey. She was now in the kitchen, pouring a glass of wine. I cocked my eyebrow at her.

“What? Brennen’s allowed to get drunk but I can’t.” She hissed.

I flung my hands up. “I said nothing.”

“Yeah, but your face did.” She jeered.

“Be honest with me Casey. Do you like Brennen?” I asked, leaning against the fridge.

“No.”

“Is that a no to the honesty or a no to Brennen?”

“You decide.” She smirked.

“I know you don’t want to hear this…” I explained.

She took a long swig from her glass. “Then don’t say it.”

“Brennen’s a good guy. Does he have faults, of course. What guy doesn’t? But you need to realize he is not Alex.”

She stayed quiet, just sipping her wine and staring at the floor. A blank expression sat on her face. I sighed, stepping out of the kitchen.

“I just don’t want to get hurt again.” I heard her whisper.

I felt my heart shatter, the sadness in her voice made me run back into the kitchen, wrapping my arms around Casey and embracing her tightly.

Her tears splashed onto my neck as I pulled her closer.

“I can’t promise he won’t hurt you, but you gotta start letting people in, especially guys you like.” I stated into her hair.

She pushed away from me for a second. She looked up at me, taking a deep breath. “He’s not Alex, is he.”

I shook my head. She leaned back against the counter. “Did I just ruin what I could have had?”

“I don’t think you did. Give Brennen tonight, and then call him in the morning. Maybe have a heart-to-heart with him.” I suggested.

She nodded softly, sniffling. “So… how was your date?”

<< CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 17 >>

#colby brock #brennen taylor #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fluff #colby brock story #colby brock x oc #colby brock smut #colby brock angst #colby brock fic #only the lonely survive

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cazziamo · 6 years ago

Text

Runaway [7]

requested: no lol

group/member: EXO/ Baekhyun

word count: 3.9k

summary: All it takes is being at the wrong place, at the wrong time for you to be dragged back into the world you had tried so hard to leave behind.

[a/n]: lol new gif bc i couldn’t get the usual one to work today for some anyway sorry i suck at updating regularly lol this one has some sweet shit and we finally meet the brother !! things should pick up from here but who knows how long lololol enjoy

Once you all got home, the first thing you did was slip into your room and call your brother. The phone rang five times before cutting to voicemail. The immediate pain you felt in your chest was like your heart stopped, irrational panic seeping into your veins. Your hands were already shaking badly enough that it was hard to click on his contact again, but you managed to hit it and raised the phone up to your ear again. This time, it only rang twice before going to voicemail, like someone had hit the 'decline call' button. You opened up the messages instead. Call me. It's important. You sent. Almost immediately the check-marks turned into a little eye, meaning your message had been seen. At work rn. He sent back. Call u on break. You had never let out a bigger sigh of relief in your life. You couldn't explain it- you knew that your had killed Hyojin for a fact, and you can't order a hit on someone when you're dead. But even dead, Hyojin still had followers, and EXO could only control them so much this early on. Someone was bound to be overly dedicated, loyal to a fault even, and try to complete Hyojin's goals. Even still, the more paranoid side of you could only consider the possibility of him being taken and the kidnappers having control of his phone, trying to keep him hidden for a while longer until they had a solid plan. You knew how it would go- you had been the kidnapped before, and been the kidnapper. You wanted to go out and see him, but you knew that showing up at his work wouldn't go over well. He really was a hard worker, and he liked to do his best in hopes of getting higher pay. He had always insisted on helping out with the finances, saying he didn't want to rely on his big sister for too long. Besides, he would ask you where you had been lately, and that was a conversation you weren't ready for. He didn't take well to having promises broken. He was a lot like you in many ways, sometimes too much so. It was hard for him to trust, and even you, his own sister, had to fight desperately just to come back into his life. The one condition that your brother had was that you stay out of the dark. No gangs, no fights, no illegality as long as you were around him. You had been doing so well, too, but look where you wound up. It's almost like you were supposed to have this kind of life- running constantly, hiding, fighting for your life, stealing and killing others. You were supposed to be alone. However, just because you saw him, doesn't mean you have to see him- or that he had to see you. Maybe if you were to just pass by, verify yourself that he was safe and really at work, it would help put you at ease. You had some shopping to do anyway, so what was the harm in taking a short detour just to peep in and make sure? When you came back, you might finally be able to get some sleep.

But there was another problem. You had no idea how you were going to be able to get out of the base. It wasn't like Suho was going to trust you all of a sudden just because you killed Hyojin. That had been personal, anyway. So how were you going to get out? You could try to sneak out; this was just the main base for the members, after all. None of the lackeys were here, so if you were careful, maybe. Or you could ask someone for help, but the thought of it made your skin crawl. There was only one person who knew about your brother here, and that was Baekhyun, who you had been desperately trying to avoid. Ever since the other night it was like a barrier had broken between you and Baekhyun, but it didn't necessarily feel bad. It just felt... awkward. And you didn't do well with awkward.

Then again, he really is the only one who would be willing to help you. He would bust your balls over it for sure, and probably demand a favor in return, but at this point you were feeling so itchy and antsy that you would do anything to go see your brother. So you grabbed your jacket from off of the bed and shut your door quietly behind you, stepping carefully into the long hallway. You knew almost everybody's room- like D.O.'s was right across from yours, on the right of your room was Chanyeol, and across from him was Chen. Baekhyun's room was on the other side of the hallway, four doors from your own. Naturally, it was locked, but you just picked it with a bobby pin and made your way over to his bed where he was sound asleep.

"Baekhyun," you hissed, reaching out to shake his shoulder. "Baekhyun, wake up."

He rolled over and groaned, eyes heavy with sleep as he tried to force them open. His eyes narrowed again when they focused on you, before he yelled and scrambled backwards. "Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you-"

You slammed your hand over his mouth as quickly as you could. "Shut the fuck up!" You whispered aggressively. "Be quiet, I need your help."

He rolled his eyes and slapped your hand away. "How did you get in here?"

"I picked the lock, duh." You told him bluntly, looking at him weirdly.

"What do you mean you picked the lock?" He hissed.

"What do you mean, what do I mean? I mean that I picked the fucking lock, Baek."

"How in the hell-"

"Obviously I took the bobby pin out of my hair, bent it, and stuck it in the damn lock-"

"I know how to pick a lock!" He whispered angrily, trying to kick you off of the bed. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Okay, whatever. You broke into my room because you need my help. What do you need me for?"

"I need you to take me outside the base. I'm gonna go and see my brother." You bit your lip, one hand playing with the end of your sleeve. "After everything, and the threats that Hyojin made on my brother, I- I just need to go see him. To check on him, I guess? Just to- Just to make sure...? I don't know."

He blinked at you once, then a second time. "Oh. Oh, okay, yeah, uhm-" He tried to throw the blanket off of him but because you were still on it, it got caught and you were sent tumbling down to the floor, cocooned in the comforter. You heard Baekhyun snort (obviously trying not to laugh, the shit) and his head popped over the edge of the bed to help you up. He was in pajamas- a t-shirt and some sweatpants- and before he started to speak he was heading towards his dressers.

"So you can watch if you want, but I'm gonna get changed so we can go." His eyes flickered over to the door, an eyebrow raised slightly. He was teasing you, you knew it, and everything in you wanted to snap back at him. The only thing is- he was helping you without any obligation or order to do so. He didn't have to come with you to check on your brother, and even if you went without him, we wasn't obligated to keep it a secret from the others. But he was doing all of these things just because you asked him, and you felt that he deserved a little bit of leniency. So you slid off of the bed and hurried over to the door, opening it slightly first to see if anyone was in sight. There wasn't, so you told Baekhyun that you would wait outside his door for him.

He was dressed a few moments later, and you had to admit (he looked good-) that it was strange to see him dressed in everyday clothing. It was just a pair of light blue jeans with holes in the knees paired with a comfy looking hoodie and some sneakers, but it was different from how you've seen him before; not that it was a bad thing, of course, even you could admit that he looked good in most of what he wore. Dressed like this, him nodding his head towards the exit and telling you, "I'm ready, we can go now." all just seemed so... docile. Then again, you could just be weird due to the years of fighting and double-fighting the men around you. You were used to much harsher things, not soft things like Baekhyun handing you a plate at breakfast or holding you while you cried or-

You could feel your cheeks flaming as you managed to think of the incident again. You knew for a fact that you had fallen asleep in his arms- you knew it. But when you woke up he wasn't there, and he had never brought it up afterwards. You would rather die than be the one to mention it first, but it was weird for him to have ammo on you and not use it. You really didn't want to think of Baekhyun as a decent person, but the more interactions you had, the more it was beginning to sink in.

"Okay," you muttered, turning sharply and heading for the door. The subject was just so confusing for you and it was getting to a point where you weren't sure what you felt anymore. That was the scariest part.

"Have you talked to your brother at all?" Baekhyun asked you suddenly, his voice seeming scarily loud after moments of tense silence.

"Yeah, I texted him when we got home because I was worried. He says he's at work." You responded, loosening up a little. Your arms, which had been crossed over your chest before, swung lightly at your sides before you tucked them into your jacket pockets.

Baekhyun visibly perked up. If he were a dog you knew his ears would be standing straight up, flicking around. "Where does he work?"

"At a cafe," you told him. "The one down the road from where the fair usually comes. Speaking of, isn't it that time of year?"

"For the fair? Yeah, it usually comes during fall." He hums. "Why, wanna go?"

Your cheeks flared red again at the thought of going to the fair with him. "No," you snapped. "You'd only make me wanna jump from the top of the Ferris wheel." Pouting, you sped up, rounding the corner first in hopes he didn't see your face. Like you said, interactions with him were beginning to be a big problem for you, and what sucked the most was that you used to be so good at hiding your emotions. But for some god awful reason you couldn't chill out around him. What was worse was that even as you walked ahead of him you could hear him laughing; you hated that it was making you smile.

"I'm serious!" He said, still laughing, as he ran up behind you. "If your brother gets off of work in time, bring him and go to the fair. I'll make myself scarce."

You stopped suddenly- abruptly enough that Baekhyun nearly tripped over his own feet trying to stop himself. "Why are you being like this?" You hated the way it almost sounded like you were whining.

"Being like what? Nice? Helping you out?" He scoffed. "Gee, I wonder."

"Baek, I'm being serious!" You hissed, slapping him on the arm. "Ever since we ran into each other, it was always hostile, always messing with each other, but ever since the- ever since you-" you cut yourself off, feeling the heat creeping up your neck. "Now you're nice to me and I don't know how to handle it."

Baekhyun did nothing but stare at you for a while, to the point you were starting to get uncomfortable. People were casting glances your ways (and a couple of curses as some had to navigate around you) as the two of you blocked the sidewalk. Then Baekhyun snorted, throwing his head back as he launched into raucous laughter. "You-" He tried to say, but it died out as he wheezed and gasped for breath. "Jesus, you- I'm so- what-" The more he laughed, the angrier you started to feel. You lashed out and slapped his arm again, which made him laugh even more. If you though the looks from before were bad, then what you were getting now was enough to make you wanna crawl in a hole somewhere.

"What's that-" He stopped to chuckle again, coughing loudly to stop himself. "What's the rule about boys picking on girls?" He managed to ask semi-seriously, an eyebrow raised despite the teasing smile on his lips.

"That the boy likes the girl he's teasing." You said smugly, thinking you've gotten the upper hand here. "Why, do you like me Baek? Got a crush?"

"Yeah, actually."

That sobered you up real fast. The smirk that was on your lips before immediately dropped and now you were the one staring. He slapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, guiding you forward. "Let's go. Your brother's cafe is just up this road right?"

"Y-Yeah." You answered, to stunned to say anything else. You didn't even think to pull away from him as you walked, and soon enough you were outside of your brothers cafe. You could see him through the window, dressed in his cute little barista's uniform; he was smiling as he talked to customers (most of who were girls, much to your chagrin) and was making drinks without paying attention. He was good at this job, and even though it was a relatively easy job once someone got used to it, you were so proud of your baby brother for how he turned out. He was mature and responsible, and you liked to think that you taught him most of that.

Your home situation had never been good, and it was to the point that you, although young yourself, had mainly taken care of your brother. Your parents had always been fighting, your father leaving for days, sometimes weeks, at a time and your mom almost mentally checking out, doing nothing but throwing herself into work or drinking when your father wasn't around. You had never lived up to your moms expectations- you hadn't done to well in school, you weren't very social, you didn't really care for your appearance much; these were all things that mattered a lot to her, and you just turned out to be the opposite of what she wanted. You had excepted that a long time ago, but then she had started to blame your father for the way things turned out once you started middle school. It had escalated to a point where your dad had gone to visit his family in a western province for a weekend and never came home. You had dealt with it the best you could, but the underlying guilt that everything was your fault ('why couldn't I do better' or 'why couldn't I just make more friends' were frequent thoughts of yours) was constantly there. It had never hit you harder than the moment you explained to your brother that his father wasn't coming home, that he wasn't going to be there for his birthday the following week. He had been turning eleven years old, and you don't think he had really been the same way since. That was around the time he stopped talking about himself, he became quiet and a lot more observant. It broke your heart, really. You had been able to live with that, though. What you couldn't live with was the almost immediate replacement your mother had brought in, one who was much more impulsive and prone to violence. Things had escalated, and led to you being essentially thrown out of the house by the time you were in your last year of high school. She hadn't even let you in to take any clothes, and when you tried to sneak in the next night she had already changed all of the locks. She was committed to leaving you alone, and isolating your brother from you. That was around the time Han had found you- curled up in the corner of a bench, nestled in between the large, arching roots, hugging yourself to keep warm. You had eaten next to nothing in the last few days, and you had taken the apple he offered you without second thoughts. He had taken you in, cleaned you up, taught you to protect yourself so that no one could hurt you again. He had helped you regain contact with your brother years later, only for him to completely shun the life you were living. You kept in touch best you could, and eventually convinced him to let you help after Han was killed. He hated the life you lived, but you wouldn't be able to hide it forever. You knew that, you really did, but part of you wished it was possible. You finally had your bay brother back in your life, and you didn't know what would happen if he left you again. He was an adult now, he could make his own decisions. But that didn't mean you had to tell him immediately. As you got up to the door of the cafe, you noticed that Baekhyun still had his arm around your should when you saw your reflection. Your ears heated up and you hurriedly brushed his arm off your shoulder, throwing the door open quickly. There was a small chime from the bell above the door, and your brother glanced over, already starting to greet 'the customer.' "Hello!" He called brightly, almost out of instinct. "How you guys doi- [y/n]?" You grinned just as brightly as he had before rushing in. "Hi, couldn't wait for your break." He rolled his eyes but excused himself from the girls he was talking to and came to your side. He didn't acknowledge Baekhyun at all, instead wrapping his arms around you for a hug. His grip was tight- just as tight as yours on him, but he let it go much faster than you would have. He cleared his throat and fixed his shirt, finally glancing at Baekhyun. "You are?"He asked with a raised eyebrow. You laughed to yourself- your baby brother (you insisted on calling him baby brother even thought he was already inches taller than you) was acting a tad protective, and it only made you think of him as cuter. "Down boy," You snickered, reaching up to pinch your brothers cheek affectionately. "This is Baekhyun. Baekhyun, this is my brother, Tae-soo." "Just Tae." Your brother cut in coolly, before redirecting the conversation to you. "What's up?" "I needed to see you. What time do you get off, because we... we have a lot to talk about." He glanced at the clock and pursed his lips, a habit he had for when he was thinking. He cracked his knuckles on his right hand before answering slowly. "I've worked a double this week already, and we're kinda slow right now, so I can probably get off within the next twenty minutes or so if I ask. We going to my apartment?" You glanced over at Baekhyun, obviously hesitating, but he simply nodded encouragingly. "Actually, can we...." You swallowed thickly. "Can we stop at the carnival for a little bit? We haven't been to one for a really long time." You trailed of nervously at the end, because yes, it would be really fun for you, and you would probably cherish the memories of your brother smiling, wind wild from the coasters forever. But it felt like you were just avoiding the conversation that was bound to happen, like you were running away from it. To be honest, you probably were. Tae raised his eyebrow at you, huffing and shaking his head. "You can be so childish sometimes." He muttered, but the corners of his lips were twitching. "Yeah, we can go to the carnival first. Let me go tell my boss I'm getting ready to leave." He didn't wait for a response before leaving, and you could see that he was happy from the little bounce in his steps. As soon as he disappeared into the backroom, you whirled around to Baekhyun, who had remained completely silent throughout your interaction with your brother. "He said yes!" You whispered excitedly, grinning widely.

Baekhyun smiled at you. "Yeah, I was there when he said it, stupid." He flicked your forehead after he spoke, still smiling at you. "Do you want me to hang around or disappear for a bit?"

"Stay." You answered almost immediately, although even you realized it wasn't like you. The more you thought about it, however, you realized it was the right decision. Baekhyun had been really kind and generous towards you as of late even though you had (admittedly) been a huge pain in the ass. You were rough and mean and closed off, but he didn't seem to mind; this was more than you could say for almost everyone who had been in your life so far. Despite how much you 'hated' Baekhyun, it seemed like he was the closest thing you had to a friend in the group. You had allies now, sure, but no one would save you if you were hurt, or comfort you if you cried, or ask you how you've been, or help you if you needed it unless it benefit them in some way. Baekhyun checked off every single one of those boxes.

"I want you to stay." You repeated, slower this time, while making eye contact with him. "But if the roller coaster has two seats, I'm not sitting with you."

He grinned brightly, looking happy enough that you found yourself smiling again. "I think I'm okay with that." He said, throwing his arm over your shoulder again. This time, you didn't push it off, even when your brother came darting out of the break room, uniform folded neatly in his arms as he hurried towards you.

Tae's eyes flickered up to your shoulders and you stiffened, but otherwise ignored it. You opted to smile at him instead. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," he told you, tucking his uniform into his bag. His voice was airy, like he still didn't have enough air in his lungs. From the way his shoulders shook slightly, you could tell that he had finished as fast as he could. It was nice to see him this excited- he hated seeming like a little kid but sometimes he deserved to act like one; you wanted to give him that.

"Okay, let's go then!" Baekhyun cheered, spinning quickly and heading for the door. With you under his arm still, he wound up dragging you along with him out of the door, leaving Tae-soo hurrying after you.

"Hey," he barked angrily from behind you, making Baekhyun speed up. "Hands off my sister, doofus." You laughed and Baekhyun pouted, making a point to pull you closer. They bickered like they were brothers themselves the whole way there.

"Don't tease him, Baekhyun-"

"Don't take his side-"

"Tae, I was literally telling him to leave you alone-"

"Yeah, Tae-soo, listen to your sis-"

"Stay out of it!"

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling the headache coming along. This was going to be a long walk.

#Baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fic #byun baekhyun #byun baekhyun fic #baekhyun gang au #baekhyun mafia au #baekhyun au #exo fic #exo smut #exo angst #exo gang au #exo mafia au #kpop fic #kpop angst #kpop smut #exo #kpopwonderlandtag #runaway

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zepheon · 6 years ago

Text

Cramped

Oumota Week Day 1: Stuck in a Small Space Read on AO3 here!

(I’m here with a fic! I can’t believe it either!! But I love this ship and I thought of a fun idea for today so I gave it a shot)

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It was no secret that Kaito Momota could be a bit impulsive.

He wouldn’t call it a flaw himself, not really. He was always up for whatever life threw at him! Be it stepping up to a challenge or helping a friend he thought was in need, he was ready to do whatever he thought was needed at the drop of a hat. Shuichi had called it “a lack of impulse control” and Maki referred to it as “being an idiot.” The latter especially when it involved Kokichi.

But could you blame him? Kokichi was his rival! The one who pushed him to do better and aim higher! So of course he would rise to any challenge the other boy posed to him, especially if the other was insistent that he couldn’t do it. The others could roll their eyes and call him impulsive or reckless or whatever they wanted; it never bothered him.

Well, it bothered him one time.

When they were talking about his and Kokichi’s relationship.

That definitely wasn’t an impulse, no matter what the rest of their classmates thought. That was a result of communication and compromise and learning to understand the other and trust built on months and month of work. There was nothing impulsive about the two being together for as long as they had and keeping their relationship strong.

Now, was yelling his confession at Kokichi in the middle of an argument impulsive? Maybe. And was dragging the other boy into a kiss when those same feelings were shouted back at him also impulsive? Probably!

And the fact that the two of them were currently hiding in a dark janitor’s closet while trying to catch their breath from running? Okay, that was definitely impulsive. But dammit how was he supposed to just let Kokichi taunt him about never pulling a “real” prank before? The shorter boy did them all the time, how hard could they be?

Turns out the answer was not very hard at all. It was the getting away part that took some extra effort.

Kaito sighed and leaned against one of the walls of the small closet, eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. It was pitch black, no light even from under the door. His hand went to his pocket but found it empty, his phone forgotten in his room when he ran after Kokichi. He heard the other boy lean against the door near him, fits of giggles mingling in with his pants as he tried to catch his breath as well.

“I… told you it… was easy!” he huffed out and Kaito could practically hear the grin in his voice. He felt a hand brush his arm before patting his shoulder a few times. “And you were a natural! I knew you would be; some of my natural talent for pranks had to rub off on you eventually. I bet D.I.C.E. will be thrilled when I tell them—“

“Yeah yeah tell them we pulled it off, they’ll be so proud,” Kaito cut him off, lowering his voice. “But aren’t we trying to lay low and, y’know, not be found right now?”

Kiyotaka Ishimaru was definitely not his first choice for a prank target, especially considering his boyfriend was in one of the scariest biker gangs in the city. But unfortunately Kokichi was very much a go big or go home person when it came to pranks, and he certainly wasn’t about to let Kaito back down from it either. So after a bit of planning and preparation, the astronaut’s first attempt at a prank was a success.

Well, it would be after he knew they were safe from the angry hall monitor. Who knew he could run so fast?

“It’s fiiiiine, we totally lost him by now,” the supreme leader explained, voice still its normal volume. “I hide in closets like this all the time, not even Kiyotaka would think to look for us here!”

“I guess…” It was unnerving not being able to see the boy next to him with how close together they were. Kaito wasn’t claustrophobic by any means, but it didn’t mean he was completely comfortable. “Can’t we find a different spot then? Or loop back to our dorms?”

He heard Kokichi scoff. “And risk getting caught? That’s the first place he’ll look for us.” He paused for a moment and Kaito was ready to speak again before the other boy went on. “Buuuut if my dear Kai-chan is scared then I guess I can come to his rescue and find us a better spot!”

“Not scared!” he asserted, clenching his fist. But if it got them out of the closet then he’d suffer through the teasing. Kokichi laughed and Kaito heard the door knob jiggle, but the door didn’t open. He sighed. “C’mon Kichi let us out of here.”

“Uhhh, yeah…” He felt his heart sink as he heard the door knob jiggle again and heard the leader slam his body into it but no light to signal the door was opening at all. “Sooo uh.”

“No…”

“I’ve never hid in this specific closet before...”

“Don’t tell me….”

“Aaaand the door’s not budging. SO. Guess we learned this door locks from the outside!”

Kaito groaned and buried his face in his hands, slowly sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. This couldn’t be happening. He felt Kokichi plop down next to him, bumping their shoulders together.

“Welp. Looks like we’ll be here for a while.”

-----

“I spy…”

“—Kichi.”

“With my little eye…”

“Kokichi.”

“Somethiiiing purple!”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, you can’t see anything in here.”

“Of course I can! I can see in the dark you know.”

Kaito sighed and rested his head on the wall behind him, Kokichi following suit and leaning his head back against the astronaut’s chest. It hadn’t been long before the smaller boy was complaining about how uncomfortable it was being cramped in a closet and decided that his boyfriend’s lap was much more comfy. Kaito hadn’t complained; for one it would keep Kokichi happy and hopefully put a stop to the whines. But it was also nice to just be able to hold the other boy for a bit. Kokichi was finicky about physical affection and it was rare for him to be the one to initiate it. So when an opportunity presented itself he certainly wasn’t going to say no.

“Really now?” he asked sarcastically, gently squeezing the leader’s midsection. Sometimes it was just easier to go along with the lies. “This is the first time you’ve told me about it.”

“Well you never asked me about it!” Kaito snorted at how offended he sounded. “I have to keep some secrets from you, it adds to my mysterious evil charm.”

“You’ve got some kinda charm alright,” he agreed, rolling his eyes even though he definitely knew the other couldn’t see. “So you can see anything in this room? Right now?”

“That’s what I said Kai-chan!”

Kaito couldn’t hold back a grin as he raised one arm to hold up a finger in front of Kokichi’s face. “Then how many fingers am I holding up right now?”

“That’s an easy one! It’s—“ He felt the other boy reach forward and grab his hand, grin turning into a full blown smirk when he heard the gasp the signaled the leader had figured out which finger he was holding up. “Kai-chan! Flipping your boyfriend the bird when he can’t even see it! The nerve! The gall!” Kaito couldn’t even reply, laughing so hard he doubled over and rested his forehead against Kokichi’s shoulder. Kokichi tried to keep up the offended act but it was only a few more moments before he joined in on the laughter, lacing their fingers together as he leaned his head on Kaito’s.

Their laughter filled the closet for a few more minutes, eventually dying down to a few scattered giggles and then into comfortable silence. Kaito sighed as he lifted his head, pressing a soft kiss to Kokichi’s hair before leaning back into the wall. He heard the other boy hum softly before he spoke again. “You didn’t give me a guess.”

Kaito raised an eyebrow. “A guess for what?”

“For I Spy! I spied something purple and you have to guess what it is!”

He chuckled as he gave their joined hands a squeeze. “I know you can’t actually see anything.”

“It counts if I know that something purple is in here!”

Of course he would have some sort of work around rule. He was the supreme leader after all. Kaito hummed in thought, mind going over anything purple he could think of. One item stood out, the most likely option. “Is it my coat?”

“Ding ding ding! Correct!” Kokichi cheered, and Kaito felt a hand reach back to pat him on the cheek. He lifted a hand to playfully bat it away. “The answer was Kai-chan’s stupid space coat!”

“I know you don’t actually think it’s stupid,” he countered, arm going back to wrap around the other boy. “You know you like my awesome coat.”

Kokichi made a noise of disgust. “Awesome? No. Definitely not. It’s stupid and lame and definitely not comfortable at all,” he asserted, shaking his head. “And super tacky. Who even wears galaxy print anymore?”

Kaito just smiled and unwrapped his arms from the other boy, leaning forward slightly as he shrugged said coat off of his shoulder. Hoping he wasn’t going to hit the other in the darkness, he swung it around in front of Kokichi, draping it over him like a blanket.

The reaction was immediate; Kaito’s smile softened as his boyfriend made a happy sound, tugging the coat around him and snuggling into it. The astronaut wrapped his arms around him again, feeling Kokichi wiggle and adjust before placing his hands on top of his and lacing their fingers together again, feeling the coat’s cuffs brush against his wrists. He must have stuck his arms through the sleeves, effectively wearing the coat backwards and still being wrapped up in it. Kaito chuckled as the smaller boy relaxed against his chest, letting out a content sigh. “See? Totally not comfy at all.”

He hummed in agreement, placing another kiss on the top of Kokichi’s head. He rested his head against the wall and let his eyes slip shut, enjoying the peaceful quiet before his boyfriend eventually thought of something new to entertain himself again.

-----

They were halfway through one of their usual arguments when a quiet knock on the closet’s door surprised both of them. They had been in there so long that Kaito had almost forgotten that they were stuck. A familiar voice followed the knock. “Hello? Is someone in there?”

“Occupied! Come back later!” Kokichi called before Kaito even had a chance to reply. He huffed and moved to stand up, dragging the other boy with him.

“No wait, don’t leave! Kiibo it’s us, let us out!” he yelled, praying the robot hadn’t already walked away. He did have the unfortunate habit of taking anything the liar said seriously. Thankfully he heard the door knob turn and the door swung open, light pouring in and revealing a confused Kiibo staring at them both.

“Why are you two hiding in a janitor’s closet?” he asked, stepping to the side so the pair could finally leave the small room. “We’ve been looking for you all afternoon.”

“Well it’s—“

“It’s our way of coming out of the closet!” Kokichi interrupted him, throwing his arms in the air excitedly, Kaito’s coat still backwards on his arms. “We’re gay, Keeboy!”

All Kiibo could do was blink at him. “But. I already knew that. You’re very explicit about it actually—“

“Because we ARE and we’re PROUD and we’re not gonna let a ROBOT tell us otherwise--!”

Kaito sighed and began pushing his boyfriend away. “We just got stuck is all. Thanks for letting us out, man, we’re gonna head back to the dorms,” he explained, giving a small wave behind him. “Tell the others not to worry.”

“Ah, alright then! I’m glad that the two of you are okay!” he heard Kiibo call after them, nodding and intending to give Kokichi an earful about picking better places to hide after pranks. Until of course, the robot called out again.

“Oh! And Kiyotaka was looking for you both too!”

Shit.

#zeph writes #oumota week #oumota week 2019 #kaito momota #kokichi ouma #oumota #catch me outing myself about my ships #this was fun tho even if it took me all day #writing is hard yo #why yes I did have to throw in that ishimondo reference happy belated pride #danganronpa #i forgot to tag it as dr i'm a fool

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