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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 years

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Talking About It 4/4

Summary: Part 4 of Talking About It.

It took nearly an hour, but they were finally safe; Connie, Steve, Robin and Eddie.

Sure, Steve had nearly collapsed from blood loss but since Connie tore a length of fabric from Robin’s shirt, he’d be okay.

Eddie was basically on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Being in another demention wasn’t exactly a pleasent experience. Robin was handling it - and Eddie - with a panicked calmness.

And Connie, well, she didn’t know what to think. She had dove in without a care, being sick of their arguing of who would go and see the ‘watergate’. But now she was stuck in another demention, with no way to get out, the added potential of running into Venca - whoever or whatever they might be. Not to mention they’d all just was nearly murdered with demo-bats or whatever you wanted to call them and one of them nearly killed Steve. And herself. And Robin. And Eddie.

Not to mention there was a sudden earthquake which sent them all flying into one another as well as sending more demo-bats their way.

But, thankfully, it was as peaceful as it could get. Robin and Connie had taken the lead in the woods, heading towards the Wheeler residence. Nancy owned two firearms. It was the best they would get.

“So what’s up with you and Steve recently?” Robin asked out of the blue.

“What about me and Steve?”

“Oh, you know, just that you’re in love with one another.”

“In love? Steve and - what?” Connie spluttered. “Steve and I are not in love. We’re...we’re just friends. Platonic.”

“Nooo.” Robin said, shaking her head. “Steve and I are just friend. Platonic with a capital P. You two are in love.”

“Robin.”

“What?”

“Stop it.” Connie told her. “Steve and I...we’re just friends. Nothing more. He’s...he’s my friend. He’s Steve. It would be weird.”

“So you’ve thought about it?” Robin asked with a coy smile.

“What? No. No. I just mean...Dustin looks up to him. He’s my friend. It would be weird if we..did that.”

“Did what?” Robin asked, the smile still on her face.

“Not that!”

“Maybe that.”

“Not that.”

Robin sighed a little. “So you’re telling me that you hung out over night when you first met, spoke all night, fell asleep in the same bed, talked about having kids-”

“Not together.”

“Still.” Robin pointed out. “And you’ve both been attached at the hip ever since. That you hang out at the weekends, and, even after being able to finish each others sentences and not to mention the fact you both act like the married couple of the group - you’re not in love?”

“We’re just friends.”

Robin scoffed.

“What?”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

Connie shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

Robin laughed. “Oh, you couldn’t be a more terrible liar.”

Connie sighed. “What makes you think I’m lying?”

“You have a tell. Mmhm. Ask anyone. Ask Steve. God knows I’ve had to listen to him talk about you long enough.” Robin told her. “Steve!”

Robin seemed to have inturupted Eddie and Steve’s conversation which seemed to give Steve this longing look as he watched the other half of their team.

“Yeah - we’re coming!”

“What’s Connie’s tell?”

“Tell?” Steve asked as they got closer.

“You know, when I lie, what’s my tell?” Connie asked him.

“Oh, you have a crinkle.”

“I don’t have a crinkle.”

“You have a crinkle. You’re doing it right now.”

Connie quickly looked to Robin and then Eddie, who just nodded. “You do have a crinkle.”

Placing her hand to her forehead, Connie grumbled. “Fine. Let’s just go, before more rabies bats come after us and try and eat another pound out of you.”

“I second that.” Eddie said, placing his hand up. “I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to.”

“I’ll second his second.” Robin added.

So, finally, the moved on.

Only, when they finally got to the Wheeler house, Connie had more questions than she did answers.

Nancy’s guns seemed to have vanished, then Robin found a diary. The last entry was 1983. 3 years ago.

Had they also time travelled? Or was the upside down stuck in time? Like from when the last person had visited it? Or the last time Venca had woken up? Or when the Upside down had opened?

And then Steve started running around screaming Dustin’s name. He could hear him.

And then they heard him.

Maybe there were a few things that could still shock Connie.

And then they communicated to her brother, Max, Lucas and Erica through a glowing light.

And now they stood beneath a whole in Eddie’s home which seemed to deny the laws of physics.

“Guess I’m the guinne-pig.”

Robin went first, falling through the hole and upside down onto the matress above them. Eddie went next before finally, looking at one another, Connie and Steve smiled.

“Ladies first.”

With a boost, Steve helped Connie as she fell through the hole and finally, just before it shut, Steve came falling through.

All four of them, from Erica and Max’s comments, stunk. They were covered in dried blood, slime of some kind and dirt.

“You - you all need a show. Like, now.” Max told them, holding her nose as she got closer, turning Connie towards the door.

All four of them followed Max towards her trailer where each of them took a shower, finally being cleaned from the upside-down.

Only, as they were all sat around in Max’s trailer, Robin, Eddie and the kids had fallen asleep whilst trying to devise a plan on what to do.

“Hey.” Steve whispered as he came out of the bathroom, towel drying his hair.

“Hey, you ready?”

“No, but I can’t put it off.”

Opening up the first aid kit, Connie tried to reassure Steve. ��Just hold still and it shouldn’t hurt as much.”

First Connie cleaned the wound before talking a couple of stitches and patching up Steve’s skin.

At first he hissed in pain, but Connie managed to finish it.

“Just one last thing.”

“What?”

But Steve didn’t have time to think because the moment the cleaning solution touched his skin, he felt Connie’s lips plant themsleves on his.

He was shocked but kissed back, the pain seemingly gone from his side as she distracted him.

“You’re all done.” Connie told him. “Sorry about kissing you, but I couldn’t think of any-”

“It’s okay. It - “ Steve clearned his throat. “It was a good kiss.”

The pair stood in Max’s kitchen for a while in silence when Steve spotted the look on Connie’s face as she watch the others sleep.

“Hey, you okay? What’s -”

“Do you love me?”

“Sorry-”

“It’s just...earlier Robin and I were talking and she said I was in love with you and she could tell that I was lying - now I know because of the crinkle that I apparently have. But she said I was in love with you and that we’re bascially the married couple of the group and then, the other day I was talking to Max about her and Lucas and then she asked about you and I and I started to think that maybe-”

But Connie’s spoken thought process was cut off when she found Steve’s lips on hers and his hands at one side of her face and at her lower back pulling her in closer to him.

Neither knew how long they stayed like that, but when they kiss was broke, they were both still stood as closer, swaying slight from the overwhelming feelings that had broken free from inside of them.

“Sorry,” Steve aplogised in a whisper, “Just...couldn’t think of another distraction.”

Connie couldn’t seem to speak, so just shook her head, the words coming out in a breathless whisper. “It’s okay.”

“But...yes.”

“Yes to what?” Connie asked.

Neither moved. Their foreheads still pressed gently against each others.

“I love you.”

This made Connie move. They were still in each other’s grip and rooted on the spot but now she could see his face as he spoke to her.

“I love you.” Steve repeated. “I think I have done for a while. But Eddie said the same thing to me before. True Love he called it. And I’m starting to wonder if maybe he’s right. I love you. I’m in love with you, Connie Henderson.”

“I’m in love with you, Steve Harrington.”

Only, as they shared another kiss, there was a small flash that went off in the corner of the room.

“Thought you’d want a picture.” Max smiled in a whisper.

Connie and Steve tried to hide their embarrassment but Max lay the camera down and got back under the covers, falling back to sleep almost instantly, Kate Bush echoing in her ears like a lulluby as she did so.

“What do we do when they wake up?” Connie asked.

“Wait and see how long it takes them to find the photo or for Max to tell them?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

And, in the darkness and silence, save for the snores of Dustin in the corner, the pair shared another kiss.

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alaadinsane · 8 months

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Short story demo for a college assignment

This is something I put together a couple months ago and am now using it to fill out an assignment. I hope you enjoy and feel free to give some feedback!

“The thing about singing is that it’s not about the performance, the glamour, or even the money. It’s about sharing every dark corner of yourself with the audience and feeling like you matter, even if you don’t.” - Janelle Winston

Prologue: Janelle

A part of a clock fused with a half of an hourglass. The pendant he gave me at our wedding, it sounds tacky but it was beautiful. Such a simple and angular design that didn’t protrude from your neck and just layed there. Letting others find its beauty rather than shout it at them. He was a lot like that. Sometimes when he wasn’t writing, he would write notes around the house making fun of himself and of me with little drawings attached, sometimes of a banana holding a microphone or sometimes of a brick separated from its wall. Though I’d sometimes forget how sad he was, he hid it well with a veil of playfulness and sarcasm. Then one day he approached me and asked, “Am I worth it to you?” At first I didn’t know where this question would go but I assumed that every possible outcome would end sadly or even tragically. So I tried to play it off with a gentle laugh.

“Forget it.” He had a disgruntled look as he turned away from me. I should hear him out at least I thought, but at the time I was too scared to see where the question would have gone. I knew he was depressed and I knew he had suicidal thoughts from his half drunken rambling after parties we would attend together. It made my hands shake then and I don’t see how it’ll be any different now. I remember thinking that it was harder seeing him upset with me than himself so I did what I always did best, and tried fixing it.

“Hey wait! I’m sorry I just wasn’t expecting a serious question like that out of nowhere. Please sit, we can talk about it.” He stopped mid step and turned his head towards me without moving an inch of the rest of his body, “It’s fine. It was a stupid question anyway. I know you love me. I’m going to continue writing my story, maybe we can go out later tonight?” And just like that it had seemed all the frustration he had washed away and he was back to his normal self…which is sadly something he was far too good at doing. I tried prodding anyway to see if I could get anything out, “Are you sure? I really don’t mind talking about it.”

“I’m fine.” he then turned around and walked back to his office. At that moment I felt like I had lit a match that started a wildfire and that it would only get worse from here.

I hear a knock on the door and then a plain looking man wearing a headset around his neck leaned in the doorway.

“Five minutes Ms. Winston.” His voice is soft with very little room for any expression or emotion.

“I’m almost ready.” I was lying. I was ready the moment I walked into the greenroom. I had been planning for this interview for a while now. I had rehearsed my lines in the shower every morning and then in my mirror before I went to bed. I knew I was supposed to talk about the album for at least 3 minutes to satisfy the record label and I knew the questions the interviewer was going to talk about. Oh I apologize, he wasn’t any interviewer, he was the great talk show host Laury Bane. He’s a hack of course with his toothy grin that lapped over his bottom lip and his cheap jabs at guests for a quick laugh that everyone falls for. I used to watch actually, but not because I was a fan of him, but because…he liked watching him. I played along while we snuggled on the couch together. Faked a laugh here and there but the smile I’d exchange with him when Laury told a joke was genuine. It was nice just being around him. The questions about the album shouldn’t be that hard to answer though since I like the album I made. I had departed from my punk rock roots for a more classy vibe. Something to rival Kate Bush even. The record label sure wasn’t happy about it, even though they’re more prithee to holding me back rather than actually help me. The album isn’t the best part, since I also plan to have a little surprise to really emphasize the point of the album. I’m an artist after all and, as one, should go above and beyond for my audience. Especially since they’re all that’s left or was…I’m not sure anymore.

“We’re ready for you Ms. Winston, please come this way with me.”

“I’ll be right there.” It’s time.

#my writing #books

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streaming-yn · 3 years

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(☁️)

HIIII it's 3 am and i'm trying to sleep but brain went brr with ideas n shit and oh well- thing is ; i was wondering if i could make my first request? (smth simple if u want to, no need to be very long or anything + pls don't rush nd take ur time AND don't feel pressured to actually do my request :] ! ) maybe smth ab faceless art streamer! y/n [they/them]?? (if u could add that the reader is like an indie game dev or works for smth like that u'd be sosososososo cool omg) with maybe quackity, tommy, dream, ranboo, niki and/or jack?? idk brain did the storming and its all messy hsdnshhfjsjz (btw! i know it's a lot of CCs so feel free to remove some or do the ones ur only comfy with !!! take care nd stay safe !!! luv ya <3 (/p))

AS SOMEONE WHO LIKES TO GAME DESIGN, CHARACTER, AND PLOT DESIGN YOU BET I CAN MAKE THE READER AND INDIE GAME DEV (and aaaa ty for adding jack!!! I think he's really neat and not enough people acknowledge him :))!!)

Multiple x indie game dev!artist!y/n

pairings: quackity, tommy, dream, ranboo, niki, jack manifold (separate) x indie game dev!artist!y/n

pronouns: they/them

other information on the reader:

. faceless

. knows how to code

. artist

. streams them drawing video game characters

. minor

. makes indie / horror games

form: headcanons

genre: platonic, fluff(??)

warnings: horror games / horror mods, ranboo enderwalk lore in his section

abbreviations: y/n -> your name

quackity

okay let's get the obvious out of the way; definitely going to be the type of person that's like "I'm going to play this game first after you're finished" yk? playfully ofc, n playfully fight with anyone who says the same thing (*cough* Wilbur, tommy, dream *cough*)

he probably wouldn't be on your art streams often – he doesn't really enjoy watching people draw, but he would want to see the finished pics

he would happily be on voice chat with you while you're drawing though!! :D

would be proud to answer any questions you have about character / scene / etc designs!!

"quackity!! so for this character – check your dms for a current picture – would red or purple antenna be better? also, two or four antenna?"

"*gasp* you're asking me?? 🥺" /j

"y'know what, nevermind, chat wh-"

"NO WAIT WAIT"

"so what do you think?"

also, if you do end up sending him the finished pics of the art he will hype you tf up !!!!

would try to get you make joke games – not like actually, it's just an ongoing bit between you two!

if you make a game for him – or give him a sneak peek of a game before anyone else he's going to freak out!! and he won't really know what to say bc putting feelings into words is hard

if y'all ever meet up and you're fine w hugs he's gonna give you a huge hug, hoping that makes up for the lack of words to describe how just,, proud of you he is bc he really really is!!

you're not even in your 20s yet and you can make video games, or help with them?? not to mention how creative you are with the characters and story line??? he's amazed by you

might actually cry /pos if you base a character off of him

like let's say a part of a puzzle is to get a rubber duck and place it into a pond to get the next hint or thing you need – only when he plays it on stream, he doesn't know anything about the game, so you're watching and waiting for him to get there

when he does get there – he finds out the duck has a beanie and has a white ring appear around it that flashes to life before fading out after picking it up, signifying it was the right thing to get

at first he doesn't really notice the ring, "oh! that animation is different than normal" he notes, but mainly focuses on the beanie, comparing it to himself before he glances at chat to see them freaking out over the planet duck reference

then he's just talking about it, shocked of course but flattered, and then you type in chat "you helped me a ton with things I couldn't decide during this game, I couldn't not add you! :)" everyone's just :(((( !!! /pos

overall supportive n proud, maybe a bit loud about games in progress, but just a really nice guy in general :)

tommy

he is ABSOLUTELY loud about your games in progress!! if you don't want something said you have to tell that to him before telling him or else he's going to brag about how cool it is the next time he streams

"chat!! chat, y/n is making this new game and they told me that one of the outfits you can collect for the player is going to be based off me!- right!! that sounds pog!!"

if he ever accidentally let's anything slip on stream that he was supposed to say, everyone who's a fan of you is just like "wow! suddenly! I cannot hear anymore!", sometimes they're like that even if it was okay to say

the just like being surprised :)

as for art streams, he'll try his best to tune in but obviously won't be there all the time! he's usually very active in chat too! likes being on call with you while you do art streams if you let him!

he once convinced you to make a texture pack and a shader (meant for both to be active at the same time), the fans loved it and a lot of them use it more often than the original!!

tommy however, not to much, proud of you bc that must've been a ton of work!! but at some time it slipped his mind that you make indie and horror games; I think we all know he doesn't do well with horror games

so you liking horror and such made the textures look more ominous and just make it look like and area you don't want to be in, and the spook goes up even more with the shader!! it's darker than usual, there's unusual fog, the portals look too dangerous now, so on and so forth yk

so,, tommy didn't use the texture pack for long;;

if you ever raid him after you're done streaming and he has a question, he's literally just gonna ask you on stream

"y/n raid? oh! are they still here?" when you confirm you're in chat, he continues "great! okay I had a question about your new game that's going to be available soon and how to download it-"

fans love how casual you guys are about game information, like you had to teach him how to export a game character he made on the website you usually make yours on (it was for a fun stream) and it was just a simple back and forth but everyone's like omg :((( omg them :((

also if you're the type of person to go insane over tiny details in other games, he will absolutely tease you for it

like you can just be going on and on about how this game had a sentence at the start that had a backhanded meaning by the end and he's just gonna call you a nerd (genuinely thinks is cool how much of the small things you notice in games though)

dream

COMPLAINING ABOUT CODING AND HOW HARD IT IS 🤝🤝

and if you took other coding classes hoping that I'd help with video game coding he'd just listen to you talk about it

"I actually took robotics for a while before because the school didn't have any video game coding classes and I was hoping it'd help either way" "oh?" "it,, it didn't help, it's so hard to code robots and considering how fast I caught onto video game code you think it'd be easier to understand the robot code" "yeah, that sounds reasonable" "NOPE,, WHY R THEY SO DIFFERENT I ALMOST FAILED" "D:"

fanartists like those moments, if one of those talks happen expect a bit of fanart of just dream and you chilling while you talk and he listens, the art always gives off comfy vibes n it's just cute :)

offering him to play a semi-rough draft of the demo so that he could see if it's good or what you needed to do to make it more enticing for the player

power duo fr fr o/

people like comparing y'all to hackers sometimes bc y'all know how to code???

you play into the bit with the fans though and honestly it's so fun !!!

fans: omg,, hackers (affectionate),,,

you next time you stream: hacker voice; I'm in

AND THEY GOT SHOCKED??? LIKE THEY FORGOT YOU CAN SEE THE STUFF THEY POST????

wouldn't be able to watch your art streams for long because he would get side tracked, the streams are just too under stimulating for his brain to focus on, but he'd hang around as long as he could though :)

would be glad to be on call with you while you're doing an art stream – though if he has is game sounds on you may occasionally have to repeat a question that was aimed at him

you're also in his streams when you can :)

also, you like sending donations to communicate rather than chat

one stream dream turned off his donos because you wouldn't stop giving him money 💀

being friends with such a popular creator and being a game creator yourself has it's downs as well

nothing thats too hard to deal with – the most common one is actually kinda funny – some people will slide in your dms acting like they're dream and just got locked out of his account, trying to get you to make them a game

like ??? do they think that dream would mssg you over Twitter or insta?? he has your phone number bro ,😭

also!!! when dream plays through new games you made he complements the small things and complements how hard something must've been to code :)

and I'm ngl, he kinda sucks with every game he plays at first but he's a quick learner so dw :)

would be glad to help if you're having a difficult time choosing between things too! except he'll answer right away without any teasing

"dreammm" "y/nnnn" "for this area should I do like shattered stone walls or mossy stone walls like with vines n stuff?" "depends on the vibe you want, shattered stone would give it a dangerous and uneasy undertone and mossy stone would be more of ominous, if that makes sense?" "oh! okay, thank youuu!!"

ofc if you didn't have a specific vibe or couldn't choose which was better he would just give a straight up answer so you didn't stress out trying to choose one \o/

would absolutely like being a guest in a drawing stream, he isn't the best at art or character design but it's fun to see him try

maybe you both plus some friends do a "drawing Minecraft mobs from memory" stream? ,, with that the thing is; his would mostly be relatively accurate if you could understand wtf he was drawing 😭

dream may or may or have some of your art as his phone homescreen, he loves your style so much :(( /pos

ranboo

first off; he's incredibly impressed!! like!!! you made this game?? this playable game, completely from scratch??? how??

also you may or may not have made a small Minecraft mod for him to tryout on stream,, little gift from you to both chat n ranboo 🤲

its literally all based off his lore,, if you get close to obsidian and crying obsidian fallen down from Undertale starts playing, if you splash water on yourself 1) you get hurt 2) your screen blacks out and when it comes back, your in a different place than before, some things art taken, maybe a few extra things are added

and there's a 50% chance that when you go into your "enderwalk" state (the blackout) you blow something up, so there may or may not be an explosion somewhere nearby, you also have a 20% chance of building something small in you enderwalk state :)

he found it so incredibly cool!!! chat was crying while complementing you while ranboo thanked you and complemented you over n over again

he won't shut up about how cool the mod is for several weeks, maybe even a few months, it's just so cool!!

will absolutely use it as a comeback if you let him; "oh? you got first place? well y/n made me a really really cool mod, so who's the actual winner here?"

will absolutely play every single game you come out with – it doesn't matter if it's his style or not – and he thoroughly enjoys all of the games as well

as for art streams, he will absolutely try to tune in every time he can!! active in chat and donos!!

doesn't really like being in art streams – like in call is fine but actually drawing? not really, he just doesn't love drawing in front of a ton of people

but will join an art stream if you ask

will listen to you rant about whatever, even if he doesn't understand it! like will listen to you go on and on about how well a game set up the atmosphere or maybe talking about how difficult coding is, and he'll converse back with you but won't really understand yk?

"ranboo I just played a really cool game do you wanna hear about it?" "yeah yeah- of course!!" "ok so like, the atmosphere was so well put together- like it was a horror game and I didn't even see the monster but the vibe was so well put together that it was still unnerving!!" "that's awesome! how did the atmosphere get set up the best and when you saw the monster, was it scarier?"

yk what I mean? like engages in convo so you don't feel bad about talking so much, plus shows his interest without the constant "hm?" "cool" etc a lot of people do and even though he does talk more than the acknowledgment sounds many people make he also manages to almost never sidetrack you and when he does it's on accident :)

if your way of learning is teaching then he'll gladly be the person you teach it to if you want! most likely won't use the information therefore his brain won't retain it but that's not on you, and the whole reason is so you can learn, not him, so! ^^

will make sure to take care of yourself, and he has a through way of telling if you have or not bc he's known you for long enough to know that even if you try to hide it a little bit of your tired voice shows so he knows if you've been sleeping like you should

also friends with you on discord, where you have your Spotify attached,, you like listening to music while you work on things that aren't sound related and if it's active later than it should be he's going to confront you

overall wholesome mixed in with a little pain bc both of you are like "ah yes, lore <3" and like to see fans cry /lh

niki

I feel like this is expected but if you need to get extra motivation she would probably be your go-to

she hypes you up but like, in a sweet and quiet kinda way, where as everyone else here would probably be relatively loud ;;

honored to be on an art stream if you invite her :')

and would absolutely watch your art streams when she can :D hypes you up in chat

also compliments, tons of compliments!

might call you a prodigy? bc you're so young but can already make games?? and make income off of them?? and do really good art??? and so much more??? like tell me that's not prodigy energy,

if you make a video game character based off her she might cry,, like in a positive way obviously but like at the same time :(( no don't cry!!

I say might bc it's dependant on how she feels that day yk? like she might just have the almost-cry wobble to her voice or she might actually, if that makes sense?

she genuinely loves your art style!! even if it's pointy and kinda creepy she really likes it!!

yk the "awww (name) :(" /pos she does sometimes? 100% does that with you

there are a few compilations of just "aww y/nnn" on YouTube and all the comments on those videos are just crying over y'all /pos

would be happy to help if you're stuck between some options in a game, but would feel kinda bad bc it's your game, you're supposed to be the one choosing the stuff

assure her that it's okay n stuff n she'll be ok tho !

I can't decide if she would play your games or not

bc on one hand she's a huge supporter of you and your work and would like to experience it first hand

but on the other hand she isn't the best with scry games,,

so maybe she'd do both? maybe she'd react on stream to a playthrough, maybe your playthrough? or maybe she would only play some of your games? I haven't decided so up to you I suppose!

jack manifold

genuinely amazed by your talent and will make it quite clear!!

can and will go on tangents about you on stream if someone brings it up

everyone is so :(( <333 /pos bc of it

will play the games you've made as soon as he can

if there are different games that line up in a story he'll make sure to play them in order :)

people also sometimes compare you two to hackers bc you code a ton and he kinda looks like a hacker

difference here is that both of you play into the bit, it's tons of fun!!

listen, I know he doesn't draw much but I am a firm believer that he will doodle his favorite character(s) from your games after he's done playing them

like after he plays a game of yours then expect a small doodle in your texts :)

you compiled a bunch of these doodles into one picture and made it you phone background and he only found out after y'all met irl and it caught the corner of his eye and he registered "oh hey wait that looks familiar"

he found out while recording the vlog n when editing, the editor was like "hey let's leave this in, it'd be funny if the fans knew right?" ,, the fans were crying for two weeks,, /pos

and speaking of drawings; he would like to be on a drawing stream with you, thinks it's be tons of fun!! :D

and he's usually free to call while your streaming and doesn't mind so if you wanna talk to him while drawing just call :)

and he will watch the streams he can make it to!! he may leave a bit early but he stays for the majority of it

if you make a character based off of him he's going to constantly thank you and brag about how cool you are anywhere he can

"hello manifolders, if you haven't done it already go download (game name)! I'm there!" with a ss of his character from the game and he'll reply to the tweet on his alt to talk more about the game and how much he really liked it :)

another that'll help you were you need it! he'll make it into a joke before anything else, but he'll get to the point

taglist (sorry i forgot to do it on the past two): @cvsmixplant // @l0ver0fj0y // @youngstarfishdinosaur

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lacunafiction · 3 years

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Ro reactions to catching the MC working out shirtless?👀 MC's cool as a cucumber and continues working out and asks if the Ros need something.

Hi Anon,

I hope you're doing well. <3

Scenario: The MC is in the Dorran’s garage and is lifting some weights.

(I won't say anything about the amount of weight since we all have our own pace. The shirtlessness can be a sporty tank top, sports bra, literally shirtless, or whatever is most comfortable for your MC. :D)

Crushing stage for this.

MC: You hear someone entering the garage, but focus on finishing the set you are in the middle of, barely glancing up. “Do you need something...?”

_ _ _

Becca/Beckett

B just ran into the door. Their steps into the garage abruptly come to a stop when they hesitate between turning around to give you privacy or to keep going, which is how they ended up smacking into the threshold of the door when they quickly whirled around. It would almost be comical or like something out of a cartoon, if not for the sudden noise interrupting your repetitions and your focus. "Sorry,” they quickly apologize. "I'm good. Don’t need anything. Thanks." B nods to themself, trying not to watch the flex of your arm too much because that isn't exactly proper friend behavior. "I'll just leave you to it. Bye."

You don't get to return the farewell, since they already left.

Sofia/Silas

“No, I’m fine,” S answers calmly, though their eyes may linger momentarily on the fluid motion of your arm unfurling from its curled position, muscles once again lax and no longer tense to strain with the weight. Your display of control is noticed by them and is kind of hot and- “I brought you some water,” S quickly states the fact before their mind finishes that unnecessary thought. The water bottle that they stashed in the freezer for a little bit to chill is held up as a prop that justifies why they are bothering you. Maybe they missed you in the B&B, or maybe they are just being helpful. “It’s important to stay hydrated...”

Ruby/Reese

"Do I need something?" R echoes your question, sauntering further into the space to be near you, though they take their time in surveying the light sweat you have worked up, the weights that are in use, and the fact that you are straddling a bench. "I feel like I should be asking that of you. Water, a towel, some snacks, or perhaps some company?" Their tone becomes less offhand and more pointed as each word is listed off, lowering into something slow and silken as they come to stand near you. “Particularly my company?”

Jane/James

“Oh,” J softly exhales the sound, grateful that the soft pop music playing from the CD player makes the way it was an oh not as noticeable. They workout frequently and have seen other people workout at the gym they went to for like a week when A urged them to try and meet some people, though they prefer the solitude of working out alone. So, why are they staring at you...? A hard swallow doesn’t help them feel any better about hovering by the garage door, not yet daring to step down into the space or to get closer to where you are easily manipulating some weights. Your form is good, fluid and controlled. “Uh, I brought some--My parents made some jam, if you want to try it? I left it in the kitchen, but need to go do things. Patrol. I need to patrol things.”

You are curious what type of fruit was used in the jam, but don’t get to ask the question because J’s heavy steps back up the stairs mean they have already left.

Thanks for the ask!

[ 💚 The masterpost with the 81k word demo: HERE. Reblogs of the masterpost are greatly appreciated. <3 💚 ]

#interactive fiction #asks #fernweh saga #who do queue think you are?#RO reactions #silas dorran #sofia dorran #reese verner #ruby verner #james corvin #jane corvin #beckett warrick #becca warrick

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lovelylusts · 3 years

Text

Stop the World || Alex Turner || Request

Pairing: Post-TBHC!Alex x Virgin!Reader

Genre: fluff, smut

Warnings: first time/loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, cute lil petnames like doll, handjob, protected vaginal sex (wrap it before you tap it plz), where can i find a man like this?

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: pre-rona times obviously. thank you for your patience, my dear anon! i hope this was worth the wait!

In which your first sleepover with your boyfriend of 7 months leads to your first time.

There were no words in the English language that could really describe your past few months with Alex. All of your boyfriends before him were terrible - self-centered, only ever talked about themselves, cheaters - but Alex was so different from them that you were nearly convinced he wasn’t human. He was always a gentleman, always ensuring that he would respect whatever boundaries you set in place - whether it be discomfort with PDA, or having to tell him you were not yet ready to take the “next step” in your relationship, he was always respectful towards you.

And that brings you to your first time spending the night at Alex’s house, roughly seven months into dating. To say you were nervous would be an understatement - you knew that you were ready for whatever may happen once you two were under the covers of his queen-sized bed, but you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming amount of butterflies arising in your stomach as you neared his house, your overnight bag sitting in the passenger seat beside you and you gripped your steering wheel. You took the familiar turn into the driveway to the gate that led to the high-class neighbourhood in which he lived, filled with white two-story houses that were a bit too close together for your liking, pressing the four-digit code into the keypad before driving into his neighbourhood towards his house. As the distance between his house and your car closed, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered more and more rapidly, until you parked your car in his driveway and your chest felt heavy.

It’s just one night, you thought to yourself. Everything will be ok.

You dragged yourself out of the driver’s seat of your car, walking around to gather your bag of belongings from the passenger’s side before trekking towards his front door. Your hands were shaking lightly, your head feeling a bit fuzzy, and you began to fear that your nerves would ruin your quality time with your beloved boyfriend. But when you saw him open the front door, presumably after hearing your car door be slammed shut, you felt your nerves begin to melt away - not all of them, but you definitely felt a lot better than you did during your car ride.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted as he neared you to take your bag from you, his long hair tied in a messy bun with a few loose hairs flowing in the cool breeze. “How was your day?”

You were relieved that he wasn’t bringing up any of the pressures you felt regarding your night with him, and that he was going about conversation in his regular manner - whether or not he could sense your tenseness, you weren’t sure, but you still appreciated the normalcy. You carried on the conversation as he led you inside his house, which you always thought was a bit too big for just one person, and smiled as he turned to face you and bring you into his arms. You were enveloped in his warmth and distinct cinnamon-like scent, nestling your face closer to him as if you were scared of losing grasp on this feeling.

He always made you feel so warm inside.

Your afternoon together went as per usual, with him listening to your gossip about co-workers, and you listening to new demos and song ideas that he had come up with in the gaps between visits. But as the night drew closer and closer, and you stood behind him with your arms wrapped around his torso as he prepared dinner, you felt your nerves come back. You prayed that he couldn’t sense the sudden tenseness in your body, or the mild shaking of your hands.

“What’s wrong, love? You feel tense,” he said, concern laced in his tone of voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied in response, hoping that he wouldn’t ask any further questions.

“You sure?” he asked, as if he could see right through your lie. He moved over to dump the pasta into the strainer that sat in the sink before turning to look at you as he spoke, leaning against the counter. “Seriously, what’s going on? Are you nervous to spend the night with me?”

“I…” You lowered your head in shame, staring at your minor scuffed boots. “Yeah. I am.”

“Love, you know I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, right? We don’t have to do anything like that if you don’t want to.”

“The thing is that I want to. I really want to. But I’m just scared, because, y’know, it’ll be my first time doing any of that stuff, and I don’t wanna mess it up,” you admitted, unable to look at your boyfriend as you feared his reaction to what you deemed an overreaction.

“It’s fine to be nervous. If you’re really ready to take that step, then I promise I’ll be gentle,” he said. He turned away from you to divide the pasta into two bowls and cover them with meat sauce before placing them at the table - again, the table was quite big for somebody who lived alone, but you figured it was because he had company over quite often. You two tried to move past the awkward conversation from the kitchen, instead going over your respective work affairs with laughter and smiles.

By the time the sun had completely set, you were both immersed in watching a random sci-fi movie that he picked from his extensive movie collection, though your mind was noticeably elsewhere, your eyes on the screen, though you were not processing a single thing that happened. You were weighing your options, going through each pro and each con of sleeping with Alex that night: you could either wait and just put off your nerves, or you could do it now and not have to worry about it in the future.

“Alex, love, I think I want to get it over with,” you said. You could feel him tense up beside you, though he quickly relaxed himself so as to not worry you.

“Are you 100% sure?” he asked. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

You swallowed, trying to breath slowly and deeply to calm your racing heart. “Yes. I want to do it.”

He reached forward to grab the tv remote from the coffee table, the screen going black at the push of a button, before he stood up and reached out his hand to assist you in standing beside him so he could walk with you towards his bedroom.

The room followed a neutral theme with paintings depicting a variety of different autumnal nature scenes, and a few fake plants littered the window sill. He had a king-sized bed with very simple beige bedding, a few throw pillows centered on the mattress decorated with various stitched patterns in varying colors to stand out against the monochromatic setting surrounding. Unsure as to what you were supposed to do, you turned to face him as he approached you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked, his already thick Sheffield accent growing thicker and his voice had become a bit deeper, softer.

“I am,” you nodded, looking deep into his dark brown eyes, seeing that his pupils had blown out as your eye contact continued on, before you felt him walking you backwards towards the bed until your knees hit the mattress, causing you to fall backwards onto the thick comforter.

You watched as he unbuttoned his off-white button up, untucking it from his chocolate brown trousers and tossing it off somewhere, followed by the plain white wife beater he wore beneath it. You assumed you should follow after him and began to remove your own clothes, unbuttoning your blouse and throwing it to the side, followed by your pants.

“You’re so beautiful, doll,” he awed, a small smirk forming on his lips as he dropped his trousers to his ankles before stepping out of them. You could see that he was hard beneath his black boxers, and evidently he was quite big, which made you feel a bit nervous, but you calmed yourself by reminding yourself that he would take care of you. “I promise I’ll be careful, ok?”

“Ok,” you sighed out, your voice a bit shaky as he climbed on top of your nearly bare figure, pressing a kiss to your lips as he trailed his right hand down to play with the hem of your underwear right next to your heat. You felt the familiar tingle of arousal between your thighs as his fingers neared your sex, until you felt the pads of his fingers rubbing against your sensitive clit over your black underwear. You whined, bucking your hips against his hand and begging for him to further. “Please, I want your fingers. Please, Alex.”

Alex smirked against your lips, his hand pushing past the top hem of your panties until he was met with your soaking core, running his fingers through your arousal before bringing them back up to your clit to begin rubbing small circles over it. He kissed your neck softly as he listened intently to your sweet moans, taking in how your hips slightly rocked against his hand and your chest heaved. You felt a finger prodding at your tight entrance before slowly pushing in, your walls contracting at the odd intrusion - it was only something you had experienced on your own, but this was the first time somebody else had touched you this way. You never wanted to forget the feeling of his long finger thrusting against the soft spot within your walls. Ever.

“How does that feel?” he asked in a husky voice.

“S-so good,” you moaned out. “M-more. Another finger. Please, Alex.”

A second finger slid into your tight hole, a slight burn accompanying the stretch, but it wasn’t something you were completely unfamiliar with due to your own exploration through late nights on your own. His thumb still toyed with your clit as he thrusted his middle and ring finger against the internal sweet spot, leaving open-mouthed kisses, and every so often a hickey, on the skin of your jaw, neck, and collar.

You finally felt comfortable moving your own hand towards his body, a moment of confusion evident in the way he faltered for a bit before he realized what your intentions were, letting out a low groan as he felt your hand wrap around his hard member.

The two of you lied there, wrapped in each other’s warmth as you worked in tandem to prepare for the main event. You both momentarily forgot that you would be losing your virginity that night, though you were shortly reminded when a third finger plunged into you. Your thighs were shaking, the familiar knot growing in your stomach (notable quicker than when you were on your own.

“Alex… I think I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, unable to raise your voice in fears of being embarrassingly loud.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxed. “Cum around my fingers.”

He groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his fingers, the motions of your hand around his cock pausing as you cried out his name, shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as you came harder than ever before.

“You look so beautiful when you cum,” he said, pulling his hand out of your underwear and removing your own hand from his. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“I want you, Alex. I’m ready, I promise,” you said, still breathless from your orgasm. Although you were weak, you were still able to remove your bra and underwear; now your bare body was on full display as he worked on removing his own underwear, his large cock springing out from the cloth confines. From jerking him off, you could already tell he was well endowed, but now that you could actually see the member, your worries came back.

Is he gonna fit? How badly is this gonna hurt? Should I still go through with this?

“Doll,” he calls out, interrupting your train of thought. “We don’t have to do this.”

“I-I want to. I’m just nervous it’ll hurt,” you admit, leaning on your elbows and looking up at him, trying not to be distracted by his bare state.

“I prepped you, but if you’re nervous, I can do some more,” he suggested as he walked over the the nightstand beside you, opening the singular drawer from the dark wooden table, grabbing a silver packet - obviously a condom - from the disorganized drawer, before looking at you with concern.

“No need. I’m just nervous. Were you nervous your first time?” you asked with curiosity.

“Of course I was. But, I was also a horny teenager who was desperate to knock boots, so… Are you sure?”

You nodded quickly, watching as he tore the condom wrapper over and placed the piece of latex over his member before he climbed on top of you, holding himself up on his forearms. His member was resting against your lower abdomen, his lips pressing soft kisses to your next as he tried to soothe your worries. Before you knew it, he was grabbing his cock and lining it up with your entrance, asking you once again if you were ready, before proceeding to push forward. You cringed at the intrusion, a whimper leaving your swollen lips upon feeling the burning stretch of your walls as he pushed his hips closer towards your own, his thick length filling the tight virgin canal.

“You doin’ ok, doll?” he asked through a grunt. It wasn’t necessarily an unfamiliar sensation for him; however, it had been a while since he had been intimate with somebody on this level, and he had not been with a virgin in quite some time. Your walls felt so warm around him, so tight, and in that moment he felt so lucky that he had the high amounts of self-control that he did, because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“Y-yeah,” you whisper with a tremble, and you could feel the sting of tears forming in your eyes; you attempted to blink them away, but they only hazed your vision and trickled down your temples onto the Egyptian cotton pillowcase. “Keep going.”

He nodded at your wish, kissing you gently to distract from the ever growing pain between your thighs, whispering to you to keep breathing and stopping every few pushes to make sure you were reading to continue. He eventually bottomed out, and you felt as if you were able to finally breathe normally, melting into his touch as he brought a hand to your face to wipe the tears off of your flushed face.

“You’re doing good,” he praised. “Let me know when you want me to move, ok?” He ran a large hand through your hair, kissing you all over your face as you calmed down.

“I’m ready, Alex. Make love to me,” you pleaded to him, grabbing his biceps to brace yourself for the upcoming main. He slowly began to pull his hips away from yours, steadily dragging his cock out of your sopping heat before he pushed forward again at a matching pace, intently watching your reactions to make sure he wasn’t hurting you too badly. The pain was unlike anything you had experienced before, but you welcomed it with open arms and the knowledge that it would soon fade into something more desirable. So you waited. You waited with tears until the pain subsided, whimpers and sobs of pain derailing into breathy moans and cries of his name as you held him so closely that he felt as if you feared letting him go.

You felt as if you had reached the ultimate euphoria as you felt him thrust into you, though you were certain he was not going as hard as he normally would in fear of harming you - he was always so gentle with you, and he wanted to take care of you now more than ever so as to not make your first time unpleasurable.

He felt as if you two were made for each other in every sense of the word - it was the way your hands fit perfectly together, the way your lips felt against his, the way your laughter made him feel as if his heart was going to grow so large it’d explode, the way your small sounds of pleasure filled his ears as he filled you in a way he hadn’t filled anyone else.

The familiar knot was slowly tying itself in your core as he began to speed up his thrusts, the burn had subsided completely and now you felt as if you were weightless and floating as he pleasured you. Then his fingers had once again made their way between your bodies to make contact with your clit, rubbing circles in the same manner as before. Many soft sounds filled the room, such as his low grunts, and your quiet whimpers, and the bed creaking ever-so-slightly as he rocked his body against yours.

“I’m close,” you whisper against his skin as you wrapped your legs around his lower torso, the knot now too noticeable to ignore. Your orgasm washed over you almost instantaneously, your body shaking as you came so hard that you swore you saw inverted stars against the white-hot flashes behind your closed eyes, a loud cry of his name leaving your hips as he overstimulated you.

“Fuck,” he moaned out, the constricting of your walls bringing him closer to the edge; and before he knew it, he too was finishing, filling the condom with his hot seed. He rolled off of you, collapsing on the bed beside you as he came down from the intense orgasm. “Well… how was that?” he asked after the brief moment of silence.

“It was… amazing. Thank you, Alex.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“Because I can.”

#alex turner smut #arctic monkeys smut #the last shadow puppets smut #alex turner fan fiction #alex turner one shot #arctic monkeys imagine #arctic monkeys fan fiction #arctic monkeys fanfic #alex turner imagine #the last shadow puppets imagine #The Last Shadow Puppets One Shot #The Last Shadow Puppets #arctic monkeys #alex turner #og work

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amlovelies · 3 years

Text

are we there yet?

this is another one of those deleted prompts from January that I am just now filling. better late than never right? Sidestep days, post nanosurge hurt/comfort. some mild spoilers for the public demo

big thanks to everyone on discord for all your help and feedback with this 💜

12. things you said while you thought I was asleep from this prompt list

fandom: fhr pairing: Julia Ortega/f!sidestep (Cynthia Basri) rating: T mention of mental trauma, migraines, nosebleeds, and cursing words: 2.7k read on ao3

It’s not until you hear Ortega’s voice that you realize the pounding isn’t just your migraine, but rather her fists against your front door.

“Cynthia, I swear to God I will break this door down!”

Part of you just wants to try and call her bluff and roll back over, try to lose yourself to the state of semi-consciousness you’ve been floating in for God knows how long. The other part of you knows she’ll do it. There’s thunder in her voice; she’s reached the end of her patience. Breaking it down wouldn’t even phase her, and the last thing you need right now is to deal with that mess.

“Don’t you dare,” you try to yell, but your voice just cracks from lack of use and dehydration.

It’s too fucking bright outside, even with Ortega looming in your doorway blocking most of the light. She’s tense, brow furrowed and her lips turned down in a frown. You’re too tired for this. Too tired for whatever confrontation she wants. You don’t bother with a greeting; it’s not like you invited her here. Leaving the door open, you trudge back to your bed and bury your face in the pillow.

You hear her close the door as she walks into your small studio. “I guess this explains why you weren’t answering your phone.”

You peek up to see her kneeling next to the shattered device. You’d thrown it when it wouldn’t stop ringing. You had tried to turn it off, but the buttons were too small, too difficult to manipulate. You just needed the noise to end. There was already so much chaos in your head, bouncing and rebounding off the sides of your skull, pooling behind your eyes, settling between your teeth. You were so desperate for some semblance of peace.

Was that two days ago or three? You can’t remember. Time has stretched and blurred, too many days in pain. Too many days with your brain full to bursting. You’re no stranger to pain, no stranger to migraines, but it’s never been like this. The first few days you’d been able to keep going, to swallow the pills, to swallow the pain and keep moving. It’s not like your comfort had ever mattered, but the pain hadn’t stopped. Two weeks now and you are tired, so tired.

“Somebody wouldn’t quit calling,” you say with a glare which just bounces off her. “I’m not dead, so you can quit worrying and go home.” The words slur on your tongue. It’s difficult to make it move the way you want to, but you get your point across just the same.

“Like hell I will.” Stubborn. “I’m not leaving you here like this.” So damn stubborn and arrogant. What does she think she can do to fix this?

“Please, just leave me the fuck alone, Julia.” It’s hard to keep your eyes open. Crystals dance in the edges making everything blur and twist.

“Not a chance.” You feel the bed dip as she sits down next to you and places a soothing hand on your forehead.

You whimper at the contact. The press of her hand alleviating some of the throbbing in your temple, making it a little more bearable. After a few minutes she gets up, and you groan at the loss of her touch. You almost call her back, ask her not to leave, not to stop touching you, but that would be too much. You can hear her rummaging around the apartment. You should probably care, probably worry about the invasion of privacy, but it’s too much effort.

Besides, you are the most incriminating thing she could find.

When she comes back to sit on the bed, she gives you a choice: the hospital or the ranch. She’s already packed your bag, and her mouth is a firm line. There’s no way out of this. She is more than capable of carrying you out of here against your will.

You take the lesser evil. Not that you are thrilled by the thought of spending hours in the car, not with the havoc the migraine has wrecked on your ability to keep any food down. When was the last time you ate anything besides dry toast? If you get sick in her car it’ll serve her right for meddling.

By some miracle the traffic isn’t terrible. Ortega is driving fast, reckless, but that’s Ortega. Los Diablos disappears behind you and the relief is immense. The roar of too many souls in too little space fades away. You can still feel the drivers around you. Blips of impressions, emotions, frustrations, occasionally the lyrics of a favorite song, but they’re gone too fast to stick, too fast to hurt. They can’t touch you.

Ortega helps too. The static nothing of her thoughts like a cool compress to your fevered brain. A maze to get lost in, to try and shut everything away. Not that you’d ever tell her that. It would just give her another reason to stick around every time you get hurt.

Shields had been your first lesson. The most important thing in a telepath’s arsenal, it’s too easy to be overwhelmed otherwise, to lose yourself in the howling around you. So many thoughts and feelings and emotions. Shields were your savior.

Your shields are gone.

Maybe the nanovores devoured them. A small price to pay when you compare it to the flesh missing from Ortega’s arm, to so many people just gone, to so much loss. What was your sanity in the face of that?

Maybe you are broken. It’s never taken you this long to recover before. It’s never been so hard to get your shields back. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. She’ll force you to the hospital if this continues much longer, and you won’t be able to run. Even at your best she’s always been faster and stronger than you. Right now, you doubt you could dodge a single blow, doubt that you could throw a punch or misdirect a mind.

It’s not like the doctors could do anything for you anyway. Not the ones in Los Diablos at least. There were other doctors, specialists who loved nothing more than taking you apart and seeing what made you tick, how to make it better, how to make it stronger. What would they think about what you had done?

How would they try to use you because of it?

It’s too easy to remember. Too easy to remember rough hands and cold instruments. Fluorescent lights reflecting on exposed tattoos as you ran the drill again, again, again. Failure was not an option. Especially not when she was watching.

Your mouth tastes like copper and it’s too familiar.

“Jesus, Cyn,” Ortega’s voice breaks through your thoughts, “your nose.”

Fuck. Looking down you can see where the blood has already dripped onto your flannel.

Shields don’t just protect you from what’s outside. There are things inside you thought you’d locked away too.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t bleed on your seat.” You’d meant the words to bite, to set her at ease, but you just sound exhausted. Weak. She keeps glancing over at you, her brow wrinkled.

The shirt is already fucked; you might as well use the sleeve to sop up the mess. You’re almost grateful for the nose bleed. It’s better than the memories you were lost in. There’s pain and then there’s pain. “I’m fine. Just keep your eyes on the road, idiot.”

A huff, but she turns her attention back to the highway.

Good.

“I thought you said the nosebleeds had stopped.” Her voice is tight and you can see the tension where her hand grips the gear shift. Sparks dancing over knuckles.

“I did,” you say as you let your head rest against the window. It feels cool against your forehead and you sigh in relief. “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s better than it was.” It is. The first few days after the nanosurge, it felt like the nosebleeds were happening every couple of hours.

Minutes pass in silence, and for a moment you think that maybe she’ll just let it go. That hope is dashed as you feel the car begin to slow down. You’re still an hour at least from the ranch. Still climbing the grapevine up into the mountains. You haven’t even reached the toll roads that sprung up to replace the damaged five following the big one. Not that Ortega would have to pay, the shiny Rangers decal on her windshield a free pass almost anywhere in the FEZ. You’re nowhere near the central valley, and you feel a stab of fear at the thought that maybe she’s changed her mind. Maybe she is taking away your choice, and she’ll turn the car around and drive you to the hospital.

Should you bail out now? Run while she least expects it? The hillsides are sparse and desolate following last season’s wildfires. The twisted layers and striations of the rocks are a stark reminder of the violent potential of the land. There’s nowhere to hide. Nowhere that she couldn’t find you, couldn’t catch you. Still, it would be better to die of exposure or thirst in the mountains than to return to that place.

“What are you doing?” you ask, trying to hide the panic in your voice.

She doesn’t answer as she brings the car to a stop off the side of the road and gets out. Not turning around then. You breathe a sigh of relief as you hear her rummaging around in the trunk, a thud accompanied by a soft curse, and then she is pulling open your door. You repeat your question.

“Do you expect me to just ignore it? Just keep driving like everything is fine?” she asks as she opens a bottle of water and begins to dampen a napkin with it.

“Yes? It’s not like you’ve never seen me with a bloody nose before. Fuck, you’ve given me one.”

She shushes you before pushing your hand out of the way and gently dabbing under your nose with the wet napkin. “That’s training. It’s different.”

“Not really,” you say with a shrug. “Blood is blood.”

“At least it’s stopped,” she says with a frown as she finishes wiping away the evidence.

“See I told you it’s nothing to worry about, idiot.”

Her hand cups your face, eyes staring into yours and you can’t bear it. You have to look away. You’ve helped bandage her up more than once, plugged in her mods, wrapped her cracked ribs, but you’ve rarely let her return the favor. Always dancing away from her hands, finding a way to slip away in the crowd before she can pull you to the medical tent. Too many secrets too easily revealed that way.

There’s nothing for her to stitch or wrap or heal now, just you and your broken brain and blood on your shirt, but she is here, so present. Her thumb is rubbing along your cheek, along your scar, her hand so often finding its way there.

A kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering as if she could have any effect on the damage underneath the surface.

You don’t argue when she tells you to drink some water. Swallow the pill she offers you. It’ll be stronger than anything you have access to. You’re thankful for the clean shirt she offers you. The last thing you need is to give Tía Elena another reason to worry and fuss after you. Julia leans against the hood of the car as you light up a cigarette. Just one, and then you are pulling back onto the road.

Maybe it’s the nicotine, or the painkiller, or just being away from the city, but you can feel the pressure behind your eyes lifting.

You drift in and out of consciousness. Ortega chats with herself, a running commentary of complaints, about paperwork and the media team. The stupid outfits they wanted her to wear for a photo shoot. Never comfortable with silence, she always wants to fill the space with words or actions. Can’t pace when she’s in the car, so words it is.

You don’t really sleep, not really. Just drift in and out. There’s a lot less traffic on the roads this far from the city center, and it’s peaceful. Your head still feels tight, unpleasant, but the painkillers Ortega gave you were no joke. Guess she wasn’t kidding about the Ranger’s health plan being second to none.

“Cyn?” your name draws your focus, but you’re too tired to respond. “Are you asleep?” A pause as she waits for you to respond, and when you don’t, she keeps talking anyway. “Still wish you’d let me take you to the hospital. Stubborn idiot.” A soft chuckle, and she continues, “I know, I know, pot kettle but still, at least I let the doctors look me over before I ignore their advice.”

She keeps talking, her voice quieter than before, barely a whisper in the empty air of the car. “I hate it, you know--” she takes a deep breath and her voice is brittle when she begins speaking again-- “watching you slink off after a fight. Not knowing how badly you’ve been hurt.”

It’s nothing she hasn’t said before, but usually with shouted words and frustrated huffs, not whatever this is. If you didn’t know better, you’d say she sounds fearful, or maybe that’s just you. Fearful of where Julia might be going with this. She stops speaking, but you can hear her fingers tapping against the wheel, as if continuing the conversation in her own head.

You want to pretend to wake up, to save yourself from her concern, but you feel frozen. It’s like listening from underwater. The combination of the lingering pain and exhaustion and the numbing effect of the painkillers keeps you submerged, unable to surface.

“I worry about you. I just wish . . .” her voice trails off. ”I guess that doesn’t really matter.”

Her fingers keep tapping against the wheel. You wish you hadn’t told her to turn off the radio. Her singing would be preferable to the anxiety you’re feeling now.

You don’t want to know what else she might say. You desperately want to hear what else she might say.

“Cynthia, I—" Her voice cracks and it feels like a blow, quick and painful in your chest — “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” There’s a desperate edge to her voice which you don’t understand. You’re the one who almost lost her, not the other way around. Why else would you shatter yourself, except to save her?

For a moment you had thought she was going to say something else. You should be relieved. Relieved that she didn’t say it.

You’re being fucking stupid. Drugged and stupid and wishing for things you can’t have. It’s always been an unsteady thing, this spark between the two of you. She’d push and you’d pull away. She’d give up, and go out.

Photos in the tabloids screaming out at you from the newsstands.

Who has Charge been seen with now? What sharp jawed man has had his arm around her waist?

She never denied it, and why should she?

You said it yourself. It was just fun.

There’s a tightness in your chest making it difficult to breath.

It doesn’t matter how much you want to hear those words. It doesn’t matter how much you wish you could reveal the truth to her. You belong hidden. In the darkness. Any attempt to expose you to the light will leave you shriveled and burned away. Exposed for the fraud that you are.

You jump in surprise as fingers tuck a strand of hair gently behind your ear

“Sorry,” she says as she pulls her hand back. She gives a small embarrassed laugh as she rubs the back of her neck and adds, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Whatever,” you grumble and avoid looking at her. Reaching forward you turn on the radio. It takes a minute or two to find a station, but once you do you settle back into your seat in relief. The noise is a much more controllable pain. “Are we there yet?”

“Not quite.”

#fhr #fallen hero #julia ortega #chargestep #lovelieswrites #if: fhr #fhr ortega #ship: you’ll be her ruin #oc: Cynthia basri #fic: cynthia basri #ship: chargestep #the deleted prompts

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

Text

fit by my side {Machine Gun Kelly}

@bitchylittleredhead said: Okay I hear your MGK x pastel!reader and I raise you MGK x Mother Nature!reader. Hella plants, strong love for animals, heckin soft, v kind, mom friend, sunshine child. (I just really really love soft paired with him, it’s so damn cute) also I love you I hope you are well 🧡

Also This Concept

A/N: 3177 words. Gender Neutral Reader (they/them) ! im worried kells is OOC. also there’s no smut but it does get M rated, but there’s no genitals specified. gets quite sappy at times. also @url-under-construction i hope u like it and i hope its good.

----

When you meet Colson, he’s famous, but he’s not, you know, famous famous. You meet on the set of The Dirt; he’s one of the stars, you’re a production assistant and stand-in when they need it, and you don’t think for a second that he’ll even remember your name when this is all over.

But he does; in rehearsals, you’re the one reading the lines for the characters they haven’t cast yet, and the first time the four main cast members see you, in your floaty, floral top, and your gentle aura, and then to hear you say, with absolute sincerity, ‘your mom’s a cunt’, it has them bursting out laughing. You smile, sweet and kind, and you step gently through the blocking that has the character you’re currently standing in for, stabbing Tommy - Colson - with a pen.

Maybe the juxtaposition of you taking part in this whole production is what intrigues him.

When filming starts, you’re still around, and something about seeing you, amid this performance of debauchery, and yet you’re still sincere and gentle, your choice of attire making you stick out like a sore thumb amid the leather and grime. At first, he tries to play it off, that you look somewhat out of place and it’s eye-catching, but you bring the cast food and water and whatever they need, you go on coffee runs, and take a genuine interest in each of them, and by the time he realises that his mood lifts every time he walks on set and sees you there, he knows he can’t play it off as you catching his eye for completely platonic reasons.

He asks you out the week after Casie leaves from visiting set, having seen you interact with her, entertain her while Colson was in hair, treating her with just as much kindness and respect as you did everyone else on the production. It convinces him that your intentions are true, and he knows that he can’t finish this production without shooting his shot.

By the time the wrap party comes around, you’re calling him your boyfriend, at first tentative, looking to him for confirmation, but then you see the way he beams at how the words sound when you say them, and you grow more confident each time you say it.

It’s met with... confusion.

Really?

It seems no-one saw that coming - if anyone, I would have expected Douglas - you hear, and frown.

“What does that mean?” You ask; a frown is rare to see on your face, but you’re wearing it anyhow, and the woman your speaking to splutters her way around a sentence as she’s trying to backpeddle.

“I just- I mean, well, Kells - Colson - he’s so... Doulgas just seems more... refined? Not that Colson not, you know- you’re just -”

“I’m just what?” You ask, not accusing, more curious than anything else, and the woman’s voice dies in her throat as she looks you over; pale blue jeans and a pastel, patterned button-down that would have looked right at home in the eighties.

“I’m just concerned for you,” she eventually says, laying her hand on yours like she’s trying to do you a favour, “Colson’s intense, I’m just worried you’ll get hurt.” You see what she’s trying to say, but her tone is so painfully condescending.

“I’m an adult,” you tell her, tone understanding but firm, “and I appreciate your concern, but I promise I can take care of myself.”

The moment you can get out of the conversation, you find Colson, talking animatedly to one of the makeup artists, and you slot yourself into the space by his side. Automatically, without even stopping the conversation, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, and you gratefully take the moment to press your face against him, wrapping your arms around him without saying a word. It’s both strangely intimate and familiar, his thumb rubbing small circles against your side.

As he stops talking, there’s a lull, and you don’t have to look up to know the makeup artist is giving you both a strange look.

“Ignore me,” your voice is muffled against him, using one hand as if to waive off any last bits of hesitation.

“They’re fine,” Colson assured, tapping you on the hip. He’s still oozing casual confidence

You’ve been together for almost half of filming, which isn’t exactly a short amount of time, but usually you try and keep things professional on set, so it’s nice to be able to be close to him in public.

The rest of the cast know, of course, you’ve been out with them on several occasions, and they all have come to adore you just as much as you adore them. Something about hearing Daniel drunkenly assure you that if Colson ever hurts you, that there’d be a line of people ready to slap some sense into him. You try to brush him off, endeared by his drunken affection, but he turns suddenly to the rest of the cast.

“Hey, hey, hey - who’d throw down for Y/N?” He asks; without hesitation, Douglas, Iwan, and Colson raise their hands, eyes wide and alert, as if the offer needed to be acted upon immediately. The show of support has your heart swelling in your chest.

You find yourself fitting into his life back in LA easily; while beginning work as an assistant on a Netflix original series, you call into his house in the Hollywood Hills, delighted to be privy to demos and snippets from his next album.

And you meet his friends, shake their hands and smile and chatter with them. They’re not sure what to make of you at first, no-one really is when you present yourself in conjunction with Colson, but soon they start to see what he sees in you. It’s endearingly genuine and thoughtful and honest and enthusiastic and -

“They’re like sunshine,” it’s Rook’s Instagram live, almost six months into your relationship with Colson, that really cements it to the public. Rook is smoking in Colson’s living room in the middle of the afternoon between recording sessions, and someone asked what your deal was.

“I’m so sick of - and I know Kells is, and Y/N too, not that they’d ever say anything. ‘ve never heard them say a bad word ‘bout anyone, you know,” Rook hits the blunt again, his face scrunching up, “but everyone ‘round here’s so fuckin’ sick of people talkin’ shit ‘bout ‘em. For real, Y/N is sunshine, nicer than all of you motherfuckers put together,” and he laughs, but it’s clear he isn’t entirely joking, “- you know what?” He asked, eyes lighting up and standing abruptly, grabbing the phone.

“Baze, man, you seen Y/N?” He calls, and Baze responds from somewhere off-camera that you’re outside. The comments are going off, but he pays them no mind, heading out to the backyard, only to see you by the back fence, peering over into the trees, on your tip toes, one hand straining over the fence, in shorts and a singlet in sunshine yellow.

Rook calls your name.

You shush him loudly, and then, without looking at him, slowly wave him over.

As he approaches, he can hear the telltale sound of a bird chirping, and as soon as he gets close, he hears you whisper -

“I think they’re bluebirds,” you murmur, and finally look back at him, lowering yourself, surprised to see his phone held aloft. He tells you he’s live streaming, you wave awkwardly, which is when he sees the slice of banana you’re holding, “I’m not sure what they eat; do bluebirds eat banana?” You ask, a little helpless, looking at Rook, and then to his phone.

After a moment, you step aside, and gesture for Rook to take a look over the fence, and sure enough there’s a nest with a single, rather sad looking bluebird with it’s wing bent at a strange angle, calling out pathetically, obscuring a few eggs, just out of arm’s reach. While he’s looking over the fence, also trying to reach them, and also trying to get the phone close enough to see if anyone watching the livestream could identify the bird or offer any suggestion, he hears your footsteps retreating.

“Stay there, I’m going to get Kells,” you call out to him, voice bright, “he’s got long arms!” And Rook bursts out laughing; you weren’t wrong.

While waiting, he sits against the fence and answers a few more questions, until he looks up and sees you, expression concerned, and Colson uncharacteristically fond as he lets you lead him by the hand.

You show him the nest and ask for him to get it, worried the bird was hurt, and he obligingly reaches over the back fence to gently collect the bird nest, trying his best not to jostle the bird. The bird’s wing appeared to be broken, and Rook ends the live when you mention that you’re going to take the bird to the vet.

Already, the fandom is exploding from what had transpired.

People are making suggestions as to what the birds should be named, people are claiming your caring and sweet personality is completely fake, people in the live managed to screenshot Colson’s expression as you’d lead him to the birds, how smitten he was with his hand in yours, and have started posting ‘get u a man who looks at u like kells looks at y/n’ all over twitter and tumblr.

“Bird update!” Several hours later, Colson posts a series of videos to his instagram story, “for those of y’all who don’t know, Y/N found a bird with a broken wing in a tree out the back of my place, we rescued it and it’s eggs, and took it to the vet,” and with that he flips the camera around, from a close up on his face, to show a large, cardboard box in the corner of the room.

Peep Davidson was written in large, black letters on the side of the box.

The rest of the videos are outlining what the vet had told you all, and that the bird should only take about seven days to heal before you could put them all back into the wilderness.

At that, he pauses.

“You worried about putting the birds back when you saw that cat the other day?” And he angles the camera to reveal you, laying with your head in his lap.

“The orange one?” You ask, voice heavy, as if he’d disturbed you when you’d been right about to fall asleep. You yawn, and he confirms, you give a little, lazy shrug and smile, “not sure where that cat is.”

“Fuckin’ hell, babe,” Colson laughs, “you gotta stop finding random animals in my backyard.”

“They find me,” you counter, and shift so you can press your face against his belly, humming contentedly as his free hand begins stroking your back.

“Snow White-Cinderella-Pied Piper motherfucker,” how that is somehow the softest, most gentle words to ever leave his lips, is utterly baffling, but there’s so much love and adoration but you turn enough for the camera to catch your delighted little smile, “you’re-” he starts, “who’s that dude from that, that My Hero shit we were watching the other night?”

“Koji Koda, you weeb,” you tease him fondly, knowing exactly who he’s referring to, and that’s where the video ends.

That’s the day it’s confirmed for the rest of the world. There’s countless paparazzi photos, and hints, and speculation, but this is the first time he’d called you anything but your name, and they’d all seen you snuggling up to him, your head in his lap.

This also is the day the trend begins on his Instagram story of a photo of you, usually in his backyard, with whatever animal had decided to befriend you that day.

My partner. My backyard. No fucking idea who’s animal that is.

And he still goes out and gets fucked up, and sometimes you’re there, and sometimes you’re not. When you’re out together, it still doesn’t quite make sense; he’s hard partying and over the top, and it seems like it wouldn’t be your scene at all.

But then there’s photos of Colson and a few of his friends standing on the edge of a roof, announcing that they’re Kings, and you’re by his side, smiling and waving at the person taking the photograph. He manages to get himself injured pulling a stunt at a friend’s house party, but you’re in the back of some influencer’s vlog, straddling his lap with tissues in your hand, him holding you secure as you clean up the scrape on his forehead; it’s kind of sickening how in love he looks, as he watches the way you concentrate. When you notice his expression, your own softens, and you lean in to give him a kiss.

And so you start to make sense, but people still ask why.

So when asked, you tell people that you support each other, and challenge each other, and yeah, that’s absolutely why you’re together, but it’s not the whole reason as to why you make sense.

Because no-one sees the way you hook your finger into his belt loop at the back of his pants at the house party, and you press a kiss between his shoulder blades, and he knows exactly what that means. He’s quick to make some flimsy excuse to leave as you step into place by his side, which everyone he’s speaking to immediately sees through. You play at being flustered, tucking your embarrassed expression against him as he slings his arm around your shoulders, and calls an Uber.

The drive back to his place has you both on edge with anticipation, his hands all over you in the back of the car while you try to hold a civil conversation with the driver. It’s killing you not to give in, but you know it’s worth it.

“You’re such an idiot!” You announced, grinning from ear to ear the moment you get into the house, before the door’s even closed, and he slams it shut to press you against it. Kissing him feels like a cathartic release, but after a moment you shove him back, loudly admonishing him for taking part of a stunt that got him hurt.

“You could have been seriously hurt!” You keep poking him in the chest to punctuate your words, and he steps back each time, expression alight, pupils blown wide. He keeps reaching out, as if to touch you, to snag your clothes, like it’s a game when you smack his hand back every time.

“Got a gnarly cut though,” he pointed out, as his ass hits the kitchen island. His legs open, making space for you, and you step into it.

“Gnarly cut,” you murmur, tone surprisingly derisive, and you reach up to push his hair back from his forehead. His head tips back, leaning into your touch, the look on his face almost dreamy even as you’ve got a hand on his hips, pushing him back on the counter.

Then you’re in his lap on the counter, hand fisted in his hair, lips on his neck, leaving bruises and bite marks. He’s trying to get you naked, efficient and desperate, but the moment he gets your shirt off, you push the fruit bowl behind him onto the floor, and push him back against the granite countertop.

“You were worried about me,” he smirks up at you, admiring you with your hands planted either side of his head.

“Because you don’t worry about your damn self!”

“Ooh, breaking out damn tonight? Must be serious,” he teased, deliberately riling you up; he loved this side of you just as much as the sweetness. Instead of responding, you reach up under his shirt and rake your nails harshly down his chest and stomach, delighting in the way he arched up at the sudden sensation, eyes falling closed.

With one hand still flat against his belly, the other comes up to cup his jaw, gentle at first, before your fingers move to caress his throat, and you press yourself against him.

“If you get yourself killed, I’ll kick your ass,” you whisper, lips inches from his as you press firmer against his throat. He grins, and sighs, the sound content and syrupy and so fucking into it, leaning up, to meet your lips with his, to feel the pressure on his neck just a little more.

And you bite, and you scratch, and you ride him on the kitchen island. The location is new, but the situation isn’t; once he’d discovered the righteous, sexual fury you’d been bottling up, he’d been more than happy to let you unleash it on him. Not to say that he didn’t give as good as he got; there’s been several times he’s had you swearing a blue streak, seeing stars, desperate and blissed out in equal measure.

But then there’s your dominant moments, the mean streak, and the teasing, the sting of your nails and your teeth and the way you push him around, into the mattress, against the wall without hesitation, and that he covets. No-one else is allowed to see you like that. To be tied up or blindfolded or or punished or pushed around, at your mercy, it’s as close to Heaven as he’s ever felt on Earth, because he knows without a shadow of a doubt that your heart is kind, that you’d never really hurt him in a way he wouldn’t like.

You make him feel safe.

And it’s not just the sex, you’re never dismissive of ideas or suggestions, seemingly always ready to help if he ever needs it, rather than judgmental. It makes him want to be there for you too.

He wants to be better for you.

Which is kind of terrifying to consider.

“I love you,” he tells you in the shower, in the afterglow, soft, pausing where he had been washing your back where you couldn’t reach. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but he felt like he needed you to hear them.

“Love you too,” you say around a yawn, though the words are as genuine as they’d always been coming from you, and you lean back against him, leaning your head against his cheek in a moment of quiet intimacy. You try to kiss him like this, but turns your face directly into the shower, and end up spluttering and breaking the moment.

Colson chuckles softly, stepping back and pulling you with him, out of the stream of water and into his arms so he could kiss you properly. You’re still giggling as you’re wiping the water from your eyes, looking at him with fond adoration. When you settle your arms around him, you quiet down and bask in the moment, his forehead coming to rest against yours, warm and safe in his embrace, sensing that, in that moment, he felt the exact same way.

#mgk #machine gun kelly #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #mgk imagine #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #the dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #rook xx #douglas booth #daniel webber #iwan rheon #the angry lizard writes

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staywritten · 4 years

Text

Studio Time│Bang Chan

Synopsis: Your boyfriend is producing your groups comeback and you learn the downside of dating a perfectionist.

Genre: one shot, angst-ish? Happy ending, idol!Chan, idol!reader, fluff with more fluff at the end.

Word Count: 2108

I wrote this fic like 5yrs ago for a different artist lol But I re-read it recently and still really liked it so I re-vamped it for SKZ. Especially after that episode of Weekly Idol when the members said Chan was sweet to them but he was really serious when he was making music, so I figured this was the perfect fit.

When your label announced that your comeback album will be produced by Chan you weren’t really sure what to think. You prided yourself on keeping your careers separate, but on the other hand he was an amazingly talented producer and it wasn’t often that he produced for idol girl groups.

At this point of his career he was expanding outside of doing work for just Stray Kids. It was an opportunity at which both parties benefited. He could grow his portfolio in a way that wasn’t possible when just producing for Stray Kids and he was an up and coming name in the industry.

You two didn’t date publicly but your members and management were aware of the relationship, so some of the pressure was lifted. You didn’t have to pretend like you didn’t know each other.

Walking into the JYP building, you led your members to Chan’s signature studio. Despite coming to his studio pretty regularly, it was a little nerve racking coming to it for work. You felt just as nervous as you did when meeting a new producer. “Are you excited to work with Channie? How lucky are we! What kind of producer is he?” Your youngest member chimed, hooking her arm with you.

You nodded laughing, giving her hand a little pat. “I guess we are pretty lucky.” Not many producers would be open to input, but since your members had a close relationship with your boyfriend you figured the atmosphere would be lighter. “I’m not sure how he is as a producer honestly. He’s never let me see him work before. Like I’ve seen him make beats, but never recording.”

As you all walked into his studio you smiled seeing him sitting with Han on the couch. “Wally!” you chimed giving the bright green wall a little pat.

“What about me?” Chan pouted.

“What about you?” you teased, giving him a wink.

You did your group greeting and bowed, laughing at how silly it felt. Normally that would be saved for broadcast and fan meetings but it was a force of habit as a leader.

“Awww cute!” Chan chuckled before formally introducing himself just to cover the formalities. It wasn’t often you got to see your boyfriend while working, but you also had to keep in mind that you still had to work.

Chan walked over to you, pulling you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling brightly. “I missed you” he grinned. You did your best to ignore the aweing from your other members and Han. His nose brushed down the bridge of yours.

“I saw you this morning” you played with the hair at his nape.

“I know, I missed you this afternoon” he laughed, pecking your lips, lingering just a moment too long.

You giggled, melting into his arms. “Aww, you’re being really cute today” you whispered, pulling back to look at him. “Don’t look at me like that” a smile tugged at your lips, as you gently grazed your nails against his scalp. “We have work yo do”

“Mmmm” he sighed into your touch. “I’m just excited to make this song. I worked so hard on it, it’s perfect for you” he smiled. “I made it just for you”

“I can’t wait” you chimed, pulling away from him. He whined letting you step back, a cute pout on his lips.

“Awww you guys are cute, it’s kinda gross” Han pretended to choke back a gag before laughing and grabbing his bag. “I gotta head to an interview, so I’ll catch you guys later.”

After the formalities, he played the demo track for you. Your members loved it. It was fun, playful and it had a bit of an edge to it. You couldn’t wait to record it. That was one of the plus sides about working with your boyfriend. You were actually very vocal at home about the direction you wanted to go in with your group.

This would be your first track of the new year, and all of your members were officially adults now. You wanted something teasing, and mature, yet still youthful and in true Chan fashion, he nailed it.

All that was left now was to record it.

One by one your members did their lines, recording their parts in manageable segments. Chan was very caring with them, almost holding their hand through the process. “Minah, try singing it like this.” he coached her through it, reiterating her part, and changing the articulation toward the end.

She was your youngest, and still wasn’t completely confident in her own voice yet so she was a lot to handle. She did her best to follow directions, but sometimes things were just out of her vocal range and when that happened Chan adjust accordingly. He coached her to give her the confidence that was needed to reach the note. Once she adjusted he clapped and gave her a thumbs up. “Very good, that was perfect! One more time, from the top.” In the end he changed up her part to best suit her voice and she had a cleaner take.

You were proud seeing him so kind. You couldn’t help but watch him with the brightest warmth in your eyes. Your group were like your baby sisters and he was being so good to them.

Unfortunately Minah wasn’t the most difficult take of the day, but he worked with each one of them carefully. In their defense it was a difficult song to sing. It was a very dynamic with lots of changes, not only was this a genre change from your groups usual music it pushed your vocalist and rappers to step up.

Soon enough it was your turn to record.

Although you couldn't really call it recording.

Chan wasted no time in stopping you every few words. Perhaps you were spoiled with how doting and sweet he was with your members. Because it seemed that he had no intentions of treating you in such a manner.

“Babe, can you do it seriously?”

“No- Again that sounds horrible”

“Do it again”

“Again, from the top.”

“Again”

“It’d be nice if I had a single sample I could use.”

“If you can’t do it, perhaps we should have someone else do it?”

“This is kind of embarrassing”

Was this even the same person? You understood constructive criticism. Constructive is what he was with your members. This was just being mean. You slipped off your headphones and glared at him when he stopped you again. That time you were in the middle of another take. It would have been nice to get a single line out with his opinion.

You hated that you wanted to cry.

You had to deal with some pretty tough critics. Producers, songwriters, choreographers, your CEO. Making an album was a high stress process with a lot of hands on deck. It was your job, so naturally it wasn’t going to go smoothly. Especially when everyone had different creative views, but this was the worst recording you’ve ever dealt with in the entirety of your music career.

You just hated being yelled at.

He knew that better than anyone. All those nights, you would come home from work and he’d have to console you after you’d been scolded. Chan knew that yelling immediately shut you down. You bit back your tears, wanting to hold it together for your members. You could see them struggling from behind the glass. It looked like they wanted to say something, at least tell Chan to ease up, but you shook your head and took a deep breath.

Normally you would avoid confrontation and just sing it the way the producer wanted, but you just couldn’t do it. Because what Chan wanted, wasn’t you.

You finally set the headphones on the rack inside before walking out. “Where are you going?” he frowned watching you take your backpack. “We don’t have anything for your part. We need to start from the beginning”

You shrugged. “Give my part to Jieun, she’ll do it better”

Jieun gasped before reaching out to you, shaking her head profusely. “What? But Unnie-”

“It’s fine” you gave her a small smile, trying to calm her. “I’ll call the company directly and tell them I can’t participate in the recording”

“But it’s our comeback track! You can’t not have a part in it” Minah grabbed your hand. She looked back at Chan “Tell her to stay.” Seeing the hesitation in his eyes she frowned more “Chan tell-”

“That’s enough.” you gave her head a small pat. “I’ll be fine. I just need to get out of here. I’ll check in on you later.” you looked to your second in command “Jieun you’re in charge.”

Chan rolled his eyes before crossing his arms over his chest. “So you’re just leaving? Do you always quit like this? Is that the way you lead?”

You froze, hearing his words.

Was he trying to hurt you? What could you have possibly done? He was fine earlier. You gripped your fist, your body shaking before leaving the room with your head held high. You knew when someone was trying to get a rise out of you, and you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

On your way through the lobby you ran into Han. He smiled initially seeing you, but as you wiped away your tears he frowned. “Hey…” His gentle voice pulled you out of your thoughts. It was too gentle. Almost sympathetic. You looked up, scrambling to bring a smile on your face. That signature idol smile you gave to the cameras. “You don’t have to do that…” he gave your shoulder a small pat. “Do you wanna get some coffee?”

You sat across from Han at the cafe across the street. He didn't push you to speak. He just gave you a moment to sort out your feelings, let you take your time and figure out what to say.

He sipped on his drink. “Chan-Hyung was being a jerk huh?”

It wasn’t really a question. There was a certain understanding in his voice. You looked up at him, your eyes narrowing. “Is he always like that?”

He chuckled. “Sometimes. Chan is a perfectionist. Always was. Always will be. There are times when our group has come to blows because Chan can just be a little too much when criticizing. Threatening to remove Changbin-Hyung’s part from the song, getting frustrated in vocal ranges…real harsh criticisms...things like that. I don’t even think he’s aware of when he’s doing it.” he sighed. “Like when we record it just seems like the stress finally gets to him.”

Your shoulders slumped. “But he was really nice to my members…Absolutely sweet to them…he was only mean to me. Not that I would want him to yell at my girls-I’d literally kill him. But…” you sighed staring into your coffee. “Why was he being so mean…”

“He was probably being extra careful with your members…”

“What do you mean?”

“When we were recording our collaborative stage with Niziu, Chan was really nice to them. Doting, constructive, an angel. But that day was hell on us. It’s like he had pent up frustrations and just couldn’t hold it in any longer. I swear Minho-Hyung almost quit that day.”

“What type of bullshit excuse is that?”

He shrugged. “No excuse. Just how it is…Like he can only be himself with people that he knows will forgive him. He can be an ass sometimes, but he sure does put out amazing songs.”

“But at what cost?” you sighed, taking a sip of your coffee.

Later that night Chan came home, sheepishly poking his head inside to see you sitting on the couch. His eyes widened as he entered. “You’re still here?” his voice a little more surprised than he’d like to let on. A lingering bit of reliefe to his tone.

You sighed turning the page of your book “I was going to leave your ass. But I figured we should at least talk. Despite what you make think of me. I’m not a quitter” you set your book down before crossing your arms. “So talk.”

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier. It’s just-” he groaned, raking his hand through his curly hair. “The track wasn’t going where I wanted to. It was getting away from me…The only way I’d like the track was for your part to be exactly what I envisioned...for you to bring everything back”

It made sense he did give you the biggest part of the song. The chorus, and bridge were the most memorable of his demo and he gave them to you. He even had you sing the demo for the company to pitch the idea. At the time you thought it was sweet, you had no idea the burden it’d be.

It was obvious this song was made to be a solo for you.

“Your members did their best, but they just didn’t have the vocal range to do the song the way I envisioned it… So I made adjustments and compromises...” he sighed heavily. “And more adjustments...and more compromises...” he rubbed his temples. “Especially because if they can’t sing it at recording they wouldn’t be able to perform it on stage. So one change became another….” he sighed heavily, slumping into the chair. “I loved the song so much because it’s what I knew you wanted to release… But they just couldn’t...and…”

“I don’t think we can work together Chan…” you frowned. “You’re my boyfriend, and an amazing producer…but you can’t be both. In order for us to be happy with the track, and in order for me to be happy with our relationship we can’t work together.”

“We can still make it work. Let’s try again tomorrow.” he looked so hopeful. “I promise I won’t yell, and I-”

“You don’t understand Chan. You made me hate you.” your voice small, as you looked down.

He sank down into himself. His shoulders slumping, hurt etched on his delicate features. Never in his lifetime would he have thought you’d say that. “You…You hated me?”

“I did…for a little bit…You made me hate myself…You made me feel like an inadequate leader, you made me question myself.” you hugged your knees. “I can’t feel like that ever again. I’m responsible for six other girls who look up to me. It’s so easy to get ransacked in this industry, to be pushed and pulled into concepts. They need to believe in me. I need to believe in me and my ability, but with you… I couldn’t. So for my sake…Let’s drop the project.”

He closed his eyes before nodding. “Alright…” He hated that he made you feel that way. He never intended it on getting that bad. He just panicked when he listened to the track, and you were the last person to record. You were supposed to be the saving grace of it. He wasn’t going to release something he didn’t at least like. Once again his overly perfectionist ways almost cost him something he wasn’t willing to lose. “I am sorry…” he whispered.

Producing was one of his greatest joys in the world, and singing was yours. There was just something so utterly heartbreaking knowing that you could never share your passions together. “I know…I’m sorry too.”

He bundled you in his arms, letting you lay your head on his chest. He pressed a kiss on top of your head. “I have one more compromise”

“You don’t give up do you?” you felt your lips tugging to a smile. “What’s your compromise lover boy?”

“What about I talk to your company into giving you this song for a solo for later this year? And you, me and Jisung write up a new song for your group comeback?”

“There’s no time”

He chuckled. “If anyone can write a song in crunch mode it’s Han Jisung” he smoothed down your hair. “I think with your help we can write something that’s mroe ideal for your girls”

“But a solo-”

“Baby I wrote that song for you.” he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours. “That song was yours...And I need you to have it. You said your company was planning a solo debut anyway... so sing this.”

“Chan I love you so much...But I can’t record an album with you”

His beautiful brown eyes gazed into you. “I offered you a compromise, offer me one too”

You pouted. “Fine, since you’re in the mood to make a deal. I’ll take your solo song only if I record with Jisung, and Changbin.”

“Deal” You smiled gently scratching his scalp, and placing a kiss at the base of his throat. “Mmmm...” a groan echoed from his throat. “I’m so sorry about today Baby”

“It’s fine” you relaxed into his touch as he traced patterns into your skin absently. You grinned. “It’s nice to know that you’re not perfect”

He chuckled, throwing his head back. “I never claimed to be perfect”

“Oh yeah?” You sat back, crawling onto his lap. A smile on your lips as you gazed into his eyes. “Mr. Perfect hair” you played with the hair on his nape. “Perfect smile” you placed a kiss on his lips. “Perfect dimples” your thumb brushing against his dimple. “Perfect voice” you pressed a kiss on his adam’s apple. “You are perfect in a million different ways.” you giggled “You’re just not meant t be my producer”

“I can live with loving you in a million other ways.” he stood up, lifting you in his arms and carrying you into the bedroom, your laughs echoing and filling the house.

End.

Hey Friends! I hope you enjoyed that. It was nice revisiting an old fic and breathing some new life into it. If you liked it let me know <3

I’m sorry my Felix scenario is taking so long... I’ve rewritten it like 8 times and I’m getting a bit overwhelmed I’m gonna try and revisit it when my mind is clearer. I’ve been starting at the screen for far too long.

Masterlist

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@skzsprinkles @tophuphu @hugs4chan @channieboyo @tonfilm @innivspearb @mini-meanhoe @poutychangbinnie

#stray kids #stray kids scenario #stray kids oneshots #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #bang chan #bang chan oneshots #christopher bang #bang chan scenarios #bang chan angst #skz angst #skz chan #kpop scenario #kpop imagines

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hankwritten · 3 years

Text

Hofstadter’s Law

Demoman/Soldier, 2k

Request for MinnesotaMedic821, Drunk

“You sure this best way in, Jane?” Demo muttered quietly as he gazed up at the looming concrete spires of BLU base.

“I am very sure!” Soldier said, not quietly at all. Practically yelling actually. Right in Demo’s ear too, what with his arm slung around the RED’s shoulders as the only thing keeping him upright.

“Shhh!” Demo hushed him. “You want me to go half-deaf as well as half-blind? ‘Sides, the last thing we need right now is the other BLUs hearing us.”

Soldier’s head, lolling like a pad of butter sliding around a hot pan, took a long and winding trip from one side to the other. “…Why?”

“…Because I’m a RED in the middle of a nest o’ BLU corn snakes?” Demo raised a brow. “Ach, you really did have a number done, didn’t you? Remind me not to let you near the Everclear again.”

“Okay! I will definitely remind you!”

Demo eyed him dubiously. “Remind me what, Jane?”

The grey shell of the helmet stared at him for several seconds. “…What?”

“Let’s just get you in, aye? We can do all sorts of filling in each other’s memories when your toesies are tucked safe under your covers.”

But in order get the Soldier safely in bed, they’d need to first traverse the minefield of potential termination that was the center of BLU operations. No problem at all really. It was late—even if some of the mercs had hit the town like Demo and Soldier had, they’d certainly be back by now, fast asleep, no chance at all of waking up and discovering a very difficult to explain situation in the form of an enemy merc carrying around their Soldier. As long as they were quiet, they’d be perfectly safe.

Demo guided Soldier towards the back doors, at which point they promptly ran into the enemy Demoman.

The BLU, spread out on a fabric lawn chair surrounded by dust, desert, and least a half-dozen bottles, blinked wide-eyed at the pair who’d just come around with the low-speed but high-inertia gait of a drunk couple. He shook his head slightly, as though to dispel the ‘ole three am fog and ascertain that yes, that truly was his teammate being helped along by the RED demolition’s man. Demo, for his part, froze like he’d been staked to the ground.

Soldier, as heavy things are want to do, kept going at his expected velocity. It nearly took them both over—Demo had to abandon the arm under his shoulders, lunging to haul Soldier up the waist and folding him in half like a Panini.

“Well,” the BLU in the lawn chair said, “you two look like you had fun.”

His face was a mish-mash of raised brow and, perplexingly enough, a smirk at the corner of his mouth as he bore witness to the two truants. Most shockingly of all, there wasn’t a trace of surprise on his face now, just those shades of smug amusement you put on when watching a particularly entertaining drunkard. The fact that Demo was used to having that expression leveled at him was neither here nor there.

“Er…” he said eloquently.

The flash of dread that’d shot through him when he’d caught sight of the BLU was the worse case scenario of course: reported on, fired, dead in a gravel pit somewhere, all rendered in gory detail by his mind’s eye. (His overactive imagination a bloody menace sometimes.) But as the BLU continued to sit there, not sounding the alarm, not even looking particularly worried, Demo’s fear for his own neck slowly morphed into confusion.

“I was just er-”

“Oh, hello Demoman!” Soldier chimed in. “We have been out. Drinking alcohol!”

“I’ve heard that’s a fun pastime,” his teammate commented mildly.

“Don’t tell him that,” Demo complained, hauling Soldier to an upright position. “Jesus, this er, isn’t what it looks like, honestly.”

“Sure it isn’t,” the BLU said, wearing what could now be identified unmistakably as a smirk. He gestured with his bottle. “Back entrance ‘s that-a-way.”

A little ball of defensiveness, not matter how unjustified, rolled around in Demo’s gut to the point he wanted to stop and give the other Demoman a piece of his mind. Which would probably involve lying. And then consequences to lying since Soldier had already given away this wasn’t a one time thing. He shut his gob and took the out.

Until the hum of the BLU’s resumed tune was far behind them, until the curving architecture of the base would keep them from being overheard, he didn’t dare start asking questions. Only when he was sure that the corner they’d rounded was at a significant distance away did he accusatorily hiss, “what was that about?”

“Hm?” Soldier asked pleasantly. He fixed a dopey smile on his friend, a second ago which had been the responsibility of a beetle crawling a tuft of bullheadidly tenacious grass.

“Your Demo, why’d you tell him where we were? And why didn’t he flip out?”

“You’re my Demo,” Soldier hummed unhelpfully.

“Ach,” Demo said, realizing he’d get nowhere with the security lights and a whole herd of horseflies bearing down on them. “Fine, lets get you inside first. But I’ve still got some bloody questions.”

They’d arrived at the unassuming little door cut into the base’s thick concrete, welded metal gushing haphazardly from its size as though its very addition had been an afterthought. Demo motioned at Soldier.

“Pass me your keycard, lad.”

“M’what?”

“Keycard.” Demo’s heart sank. “You keep it in your wallet or something, right?”

Soldier stared at the card reader. He stared at long and hard, so long and hard that Demo was starting to wonder if the question had made it through his ear canals at all when he concluded, “I forgot it.”

“You for- Oh for the love of Pete.” Demo took the hand that wasn’t supporting his mate and rubbed it long suffering across his face. “Well that’s great. Bloody great, risk my arse hauling a drunken fart back to his base cause he can’t hold his bloody liquor, and we can’t even get in to the fecking-”

The door hissed, layers of dust shaking loose like with a sci-fi swish as the vacuum seal was opened to the desert night. Demo gawked, watching it shake away grit like it was built into the surface of Mars instead of a dead-end town in the middle of New Mexico, and letting out a wash of air-conditioned oxygen.

When it was partially ajar, it unveiled the BLU Sniper, arms folded and leaning on the inner wall.

“How…what?” Demo asked. Soldier was too busy looking at the beetle again to be perplexed.

“Heard you guys arguing from the roof.” Sniper jerked his thumb upwards. “If you were sneaking ‘round, might want to think about keeping your voice down in the future. Probably could’ve heard you all the way at RED.”

“I wasn’t- We weren’t-”

Sniper waited. When no adequate explanation was forthcoming he said, “you comin’? Cold air’s getting out.”

Demo grimaced, and began the arduous processes of lugging the Soldier inside.

Chill ran up where his t-shirt had sweated to his neck, Soldier fairing no better since they’d spent the past half hour (every moment since Demo had realized Soldier would be going nowhere on his own) with their sides pressed together. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until the cold ai) brought the slightest suggestion of relief to his (admittedly also not terribly sober) body.

“If this is going to be a running thing for you two, maybe don’t get so munted next time, yeah?” Sniper offered. It was neither reprimanding nor conversational, like this was a totally normal exchange happening here with a RED in a BLU hallway.

“Who said anything about a ‘running thing’?” Demo demanded. “You didn’t overhear that!”

Sniper raised a brow. “Soldier said you were his new best mate. I assumed that meant you’d both be out and about more than once.”

Demo grit his teeth, the pieces clicking into place. “Did he now.” He leveled his best attempt at a glare from his blindspot at the disoriented Soldier who, unsurprisingly, was more interested in resting his head on Demo’s shoulder than being reprimanded. “Well that’s good to know. Any chance you can point me to his room?”

Sniper took one gloved hand and shoved a thumb over his shoulder.

“Thanks. Cheers.”

“Goodbye Sniper,” Soldier said belatedly, a good three minutes after he’d disappeared around a corner. “Oh hey! My room!”

“Jane, is there anyone you didn’t tell about us?” Demo demanded.

Soldier thought for a moment. “…I didn’t tell any REDs.”

“Jane,” Demo groaned. “This is supposed to be a secret. What if one of them tells the Administrator? You want that? Going to be hard ever meeting up again if we’re both six feet under.”

For the first time, a bit of shame managed to reach the Soldier through the woolen mesh of his inebriated state, and he looked at his shoes. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I just got really excited. Wanted everyone to know I was hanging out with you.”

Demo sighed heavily, not up bullying his friend when he was in such a pathetic sate already. “I know you were. Ach, it’s fine. We’ll talk ‘bout it later.”

Later being sometime after he’d managed to deposit Soldier onto a four-poster, though with the way the night was going it seemed like that moment would never arrive. His outlook wasn’t improved when he opened the door of Soldier’s room and found that not only was it Soldier’s room, but the occupancy of the entire Offense division.

“Whzzat?” Scout said, rolling to his elbow just in time to be bombarded by the hall light. “Ahg, dammit Sol. What the hell man?”

Demo didn’t bother freezing this time, successfully desensitized to literally every BLU on the planet stumbling across his ill-advised trip through the enemy base. Instead, he walked over, dropped Soldier on the bed, and began helping him unlace his boots.

“What the-?” Scout said when he finally lowered his arm. “Oh right. You. Jesus, how ‘bout a little consideration for the sleeping guy?”

“Mmrrhaunna,” came from the bundle in the corner.

“Yeah, what they said.”

“You don’t got the right to be begging consideration from anyone, jackrabbit,” Demo said hotly as he frees the military-grade combat boots from Soldier’s feet. He threw a blanket over the man’s form, who sighed appreciatively and said something about how this would earn Demo a medal. “‘Sides, don’t need to worry about me no more. I just came to drop of your sergeant and get out of here.”

To prove it, he backed out of the room with hands raised. Mission complete. Time to get out of here and bring this mortifying night to an end.

He might have gotten away with it too, if Pyro hadn’t shot straight up and pointed an accusing finger at him. “Mrrhaha! Hudda hah ha hoo.”

Demo reared back slightly from the Pyro who was still very much in their rubber suit, now with added nightcap. Whatever the hell they were saying, they were very impassioned about it. He looked to the Scout for help.

“They want you to tuck them in too,” he said, and the light flooding in from the single open door was good enough to see that he was smirking as he did so.

“Wha- I’m not bloody tucking anyone in,” Demo said hotly.

“Hudda ha. Mrra haa hur ha.”

“You tucked Soldier in,” Scout translated. “Only fair.”

“Gurrhaha.”

“…Otherwise they’ll tattle.”

“I cannae bloody believe this,” Demo groaned, rubbing his face.

Grudgingly, he made his way over the giggling pyrotechnician, absolutely giddy to have gotten their way. Thankfully boots weren’t part of the pajama equation, and Demo had only to tuck in the blanket’s edges ‘round a pair of socked feet and a squirming, suit-clad body. When he tried to leave it at that, a keening noise stopped him, and he was forced to repeat the process for Mayor Balloonicorn. All the while, he could feel the Scout staring smugly at the back of his head.

“D’awww, ain’t that adorable. Going to be hard to be scared of you now, though. Y’know, after you swung by to give us goodnight kisses and all that crap.”

“Just for that, I’m going to have a sticky trap with your name on it, boyo,” Demo pointed an accusing finger in Scout’s direction. He just shrugged.

“But uh,” Scout added, just as Demo was finally about to make his escape. “Glad you turned out to be cool though. He was really gung ho about tonight. Its nice he has good friends besides us.”

Demo cast his gaze to Soldier, who’d fallen fitfully in the short while it’d taken to get Pyro off his back.

“…That’s good. It was a fun time.”

“Oh yeah?” Scout wiggled his eyebrows. “How fun?”

Demo took one of the pillows he’d used to burry Pyro in and flung it at Scout’s face.

“Sticky trap. Your name.”

He could still hear Scout snickering all the way out into the hall.

#demosolly #tf2 fanfiction

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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years

Text

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 3 - Bodega

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, is it a date?, 2.7k

WARNINGS: cancer mention, lines in Spanish will have translations in the tags

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes me these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2

Alex followed the gentle clack-clack-clack of the wheels eagerly, watching as Willie glided this way and that through the street. He shoved down the thought that his walk was only going to be a short one. After a few blocks, Willie slowed to a stop outside a bodega and waited for Alex to catch up before going inside.

“Hola, ese!” The guy behind the counter called as they entered.

Willie nodded and raised his eyebrows at him in greeting, lifting off his helmet and leaning his board against the wall of the counter. Immediately, an orange striped cat hopped up onto the surface with an excited little ‘prrrrp?’ and approached so Willie could pet him.

“Hey, Sheldon,” he said, massaging behind the cat’s ears as it rubbed its head aggressively against his shirt. Then, Sheldon sniffed Alex’s sleeve in curiosity as he stood timidly amid the unfamiliar.

“He’s friendly,” Willie assured. “Unless you’re allergic,” he added cautiously.

Alex smiled as he took the cat’s face in his hands, rubbing the sweet spots on his neck.

“No, good thing I’m not.” Sheldon was already purring, the sound soothing Alex’s slight shakiness. Willie smoothed the fur along his back.

“Have you been good today?” he asked in a baby voice.”You been treating Escobar right?” The cat meowed and rubbed against Willie’s chest.

“He caught two mice this morning,” The man, whom Alex assumed was Escobar, said. He was trying to wipe what looked like grease on his hands. “He’s happy because I gave him sardines.”

“Thanks, man,” Willie told him. “By the way, this is Alex.”

“Nice to meet you,” Alex said, realizing his hands had been gripping his fanny pack anxiously and loosening them.

“Good to meet you, Alex,” Escobar offered his wrist to shake, his hand being dirty. Alex shook it awkwardly and then Sheldon pushed his way in between and rubbed his head against his hand. Willie laughed.

“He seems to really like you,” he said.

“All I did was pet him,” Alex replied.

“Well, if Willie likes someone, the cat usually does, too,” Escobar informed him.

Alex smiled, unsure what to say to that.

“Que pasó con tu mano?” Escobar directed to Willie in concern, looking pointedly at his hand.

Willie only laughed and lifted the hand in question.

“Scrapes everyday,” was all he had to say.

The man only shook his head as he moved to put away the rag he’d been wiping his hands on.

“Te tienes que cuidarte mejor,” he said as he came back to the counter. “So what are we eating today?”

“We’ll see,” Willie said. He turned to Alex. “Do you want anything?”

He blinked, flustered.

“Are you - are you sure?” The words it’s not a date, it’s not a date, began repeating in his head incessantly. Right? A guy can buy another guy he just met food...after inviting him to follow him...on his way to get food….

“Yeah, I’ve got you covered,” Willie told him, moving over to a part of the counter where a sandwich menu was posted on top of it. Alex felt a bass drum going in his chest and tapped his toe to mimic it, hoping he could play it off as just taking time to decide.

“Take your time, amigos, I gotta wash my hands real quick,” Escobar said before disappearing.

“I don’t understand most of what he says,” Willie murmured so only Alex could hear. “But I get the general idea.”

He could only smirk in response. Perusing the menu, Alex quickly made a selection, still hesitant about accepting Willie’s offer. He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked around the bodega. He’d been to a few around L.A. but they all had their differences. This one was rather spacious, with some tables set up outside, and of course the sandwiches were an uncommon feature.

“So,” Willie started, grabbing his attention. “Do you often follow strangers through the city?”

Alex exhaled nervously, only then realizing what he’d just done.

“No,” he shook his head. Willie leaned on the counter, smirking. “No, this is kind of a first. Why, do you get followed a lot?”

Willie only bit his lip and shook his head. They chuckled together for a moment.

“I just come here every day during my lunch break,” Willie explained. “To check on Sheldon. Figured if you were game, you’d come.”

Alex looked at him in confusion.

“You explained none of that back there; you just nodded.”

“And yet….” Willie said, gesturing toward him. The unspoken truth hovered between them so potently Alex expected to receive a static shock.

“So...is Sheldon your cat?” he asked to diffuse the tension. Sheldon perked up at the sound of his name and pattered over to them.

“Yeah,” Willie responded as if he’d been distracted by his thoughts for a second. “I found him a few months ago and he was just really sick and weak and I couldn’t leave him like that, so Escobar was nice to let me keep him here since I can’t have him with me.”

“Why can’t you - ” Alex began before Escobar came back through, rubbing his newly cleaned hands.

“Okay, primos, we ready?” he asked.

“Yep!” Willie said, flashing a look to Alex that he’d answer him later. “Just the usual for me. You know what you want, Alex?”

“The, uh, chicken panini,” he said quickly. He glanced over at Willie again and got a tiny nod that yes, he was fine to get a sandwich. As Escobar got to work making them, they went over to the tables outside and sat down.

“I figured I could thank you a little bit, considering the generous tip I got this morning,” Willie said.

Alex swallowed, remembering how hard he had to convince the boys to leave a good deal of money so Willie could get into the show in the evening. It wasn’t until Bobby had made up something about getting more fans that got Luke and Reggie to agree. In retrospect, the count of bold decisions he was making that day was record-breaking.

“I wouldn’t have asked you to return a favor,” he said. “But I do appreciate the sandwich.” He felt Sheldon rub against his leg.and smiled as he looked down. “You weren’t kidding when you said he was friendly. This is the happiest cat I’ve ever met.”

Willie nodded. “He’s changed so much since we found him.”

He paused and just looked at Alex for a moment.

“You don’t relax much, huh?” he wondered aloud in a soft manner.

Alex looked down at his hands once again keeping a death grip on the strap of his fanny pack, released them, and put them down in his lap.

“No better time to start than now, right?” he said, taking in a couple deep breaths. He couldn’t help it. One look at Willie made him feel like time fell from orbit - whatever that meant. His hands still needed something to do though, so he pulled out his drumsticks again and lightly tapped on the edge of the table. Willie bobbed his head to the rhythm, scrunching his nose.

After a few minutes, they heard Escobar call out and they went to collect their sandwiches. Willie glanced at the clock above them and grabbed his board.

“I don’t know how, but it’s already almost time to head back,” he said.

Alex hadn’t figured him to care about punctuality, but took his sandwich from Escobar, ready to follow Willie back toward the hotel. There was no chance he would find his way back alone. Escobar wagged a finger for him to come closer. Nervously, Alex leaned toward the counter.

“Tú tienes cara de fresa,” he said, to which Alex only blinked cluelessly. “Pero me caes bien.” The man simply nodded, smiling slightly. Alex looked between him and Willie, neither of them offering a translation.

“Th...thanks,” he stuttered. He leaned down and scratched Sheldon’s head to bid adieu.

“I’ll be back later for Sheldon,” Willie told Escobar as they exited.

Before Willie mounted his board, he got a few good bites into his sandwich. They had gotten about half a block away before Alex dared to ask.

“Do you have any clue what he said to me?”

“I think it was a compliment,” Willie said, mouth slightly full of food.

They continued back toward the hotel, eating their sandwiches as Alex simply ruminated over everything that had just transpired. Willie glanced over occasionally, always with a smile, and clearly travelling slower than he had before so he didn’t leave Alex too far behind. As they finally approached their destination, Willie dismounted his board for a moment.

“Hey,” he said, the soft tone Alex had heard earlier coming back. “Thanks for going with me. It was nice.”

Alex smiled, momentarily losing his entire working vocabulary to giddiness.

“No problem,” he said finally. “See you around?”

Willie nodded.

“See you around.”

Back at the Pearl, the band was set up for their sound check. Luke was an uncontained mass of energy at this point - kissing his rabbit’s foot countless times, swinging his arm tie around to see how far a distance he could hit people from, and his hands rarely leaving his guitar. Alex had a feeling it was only going to get worse the second he saw Julie. They all assembled on the stage and took up their instruments, waiting for the sound tech to instruct them.

“Okay, Reggie, give us a line,” was heard from the booth. Reggie improvised a bass lick on the spot for about thirty seconds, which was far more than the sound guys needed. It was a wicked line, though, and Alex couldn’t blame him for riding it out. He could see Luke and Bobby raising their eyebrows, hoping they could play with it later.

The techs guided them through the instruments one by one, then microphones, and then prepared for them to play together. This was the first time they were all playing with earpieces to hear everything properly and it was certainly an exciting change. Alex could hear them almost as if he were listening to their own demo and he couldn’t describe the feeling.

On cue, Luke played the opening riff to Now or Never and the energy immediately flowed as they all joined him.

“Take off, last stop, count down till we blast open the top…”

Nothing like getting to play to take the edge off of everything. He’d started the day early and thought there would be nothing more nerve-wracking than getting on this stage. Sure, he knew he could do it, but the pressure to somehow gain the support of hundreds more people in one go had been mounting on him the last few days. Fans who came to him after shows and told him that he made a difference to them? That he was something more than just an awkward teen who was bullied for being gay and having nut allergies? It was surreal. Alex wanted to keep reality close most of the time. Making music was the exception where he was happy to escape.

They finished the song, and as Alex swept his hair out of his eyes he saw a figure stand up from sitting in the middle of the empty venue, clapping their hands.

“You guys, that was phenomenal!” Julie Molina was saying, making her way onto the stage.

“Julie!” all of the guys cried out, nearly in unison. Luke was already bounding over as she made her way up to the stage. Reggie and Bobby lifted the straps off their guitars and followed suit as Alex casually brought up the rear.

“Hey guys,” Julie said, returning all of their high-fives and fist bumps. “I’m so excited for tonight, we’re going to have a good show.”

“I’m ready for us to blow everybody away,” Luke said enthusiastically. Alex, Reggie and Bobby exchanged knowing looks but refrained from commenting. Julie probably thought he was talking about the band. Luke probably thought the same, funnily enough.

“I have my own sound check to do, but it’ll be good to hang with you guys until the show opens,” she told them.

“Can we stick around and watch?” Luke asked.

Julie shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, go ahead!”

“Sweet!” Reggie said, already taking a seat. Bobby settled down next to him while Alex took the seat behind them.

He remembered when they met her it was at some battle of the bands out in Bakersfield. She’d been part of the duo Double Trouble, and her friend Flynn had gotten sick shortly before they were supposed to go on. She took the stage anyway and had the audience at her feet, and Alex had never seen Luke so entranced. At the end, they invited her to jam until they were forced to shut down at about one in the morning. Everything that had transpired in those few hours was unforgettable, and the guys agreed they would all gladly do it again.

That was a year ago. Now, with her first album out, the guys had all been stoked to get the call to open for her. Alex was pretty sure Luke had been keeping tabs on her the whole time, and he likely didn’t realize how obvious it was. There was something about the way he got very defensive when the guys occasionally suggested going back to the songs they’d gotten started with her, and how he refused to do it without her.

The four of them sat mesmerized as Julie’s fingers elicited the most heartfelt and energizing melodies from the piano. A soft, swelling joy came over Alex, and he wanted to give Julie the strongest hug when she finished. Her music was touching and he couldn’t help but need to express that to her. Peeking at the two below him, he saw Reggie clearly shedding some tears and Bobby clenching his fist because it wasn’t the right moment to wipe them away.

Suddenly one of the crew members walked onto the stage, making Julie stop playing. He muttered something to her that the boys couldn't hear. She sat straight with fear in her eyes and hurried backstage without a word. Luke turned around to look at the rest of his band and they all mirrored his concern. Slowly, they rose and headed toward the green room where they found Julie on the phone.

“Dad, what happened?” she was saying, audibly shaking.

Alex held out a hand and they all stopped in their tracks. He looked at Luke and shook his head. Whatever they were hearing, he figured she didn’t want them listening in on. Luke knit his eyebrows, and Alex could see the internal fight going on in his mind as he considered staying to comfort her or giving her space. After a moment he nodded to Alex and they pulled back into one of the dressing rooms.

None of them said a word as they waited. Alex pulled out his drumsticks and tapped them on his knees to fight off the rising anxiety in his chest. Nobody bothered looking at the clock and nobody made eye contact. Those three words they’d heard repeated on a loop in Alex’s brain, and he was sure they were in the minds of the others. That hug he had thought about giving felt both highly necessary and very inadequate, and he didn’t even know what the phone call was about.

After some time, Julie appeared in the doorway. She looked around at all of them and breathed deeply.

“My mom is in the hospital right now,” she said soberly. “She’s been in cancer treatment for a few months now and it was in remission, but it’s coming back."

Her eyes remained cast toward the floor, and each of the guys hesitated to move.

"I can't cancel tonight, but…" she began saying. Luke raised a hand to cover his face, clearly afraid of the rest of that sentence.

"I'm sorry guys, but I need some time to myself." She left, but Alex saw her face twist with pain before she was completely out of sight and he thought he felt his heart snap in two. Everyone looked at Luke as he sat at a loss for words.

Finally, Luke straightened up and a calm fierceness took over his countenance.

"We gotta make tonight the best, you guys, you hear me?"

Each of them nodded solemnly.

"Alright. We aren't legends for ourselves, tonight. We're legends for Julie."

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wackapedia · 3 years

Text

Lovestruck

Yoongi x Reader in which Producer Yoongi is all blushy talking to you

Word Count: 800ish

"Seri, come on. I'm here for a vacation!" You whine to your manager. She just agreed to book you for a project with Big Hit Entertainment after they've contacted your team. You were in Korea to see the places since your last two visits were always work-related. "You've been here for a week already! What else will you be doing? Y/n this is Big Hit, its not just some entertainment company. The producer will call you in an hour so make yourself presentable." Seri tosses you a dress still clipped to its hanger while you pull yourself off the bed. Exactly 48 minutes later, you receive a videocall request on your laptop. Plugging the earphones on, you answer the call. "Hello I'm Min Yoongi, Big Hit producer. We met briefly twice, not that I was counting, the last one was at the Seoul music awards early this year." Was his opening statement to you. "Um, Hello mister Min. Its a pleasure to-" "Please, Yoongi is fine." He chuckles, smiling widely. "Yoongi." You repeat. He smiles even wider, causing your heart to skip a beat. Yoongi suddenly looks nervous and fidgety when you wait for him to talk about the project. "So I wrote this song for you- no wait, In a sense that I had you in mind while writing... uhm," he interrupts himself, adjusting the collar of his shirt and fidgets on something on his table before continuing "I wrote it for you..." He clears his throat. "To sing..." Yoongi looks like he's kicking himself mentally and physically. His eyes constantly drift beyond the camera, and his cheeks are tinted red that goes a shade deeper every second. "Okay." Was all you have to say. You were processing how Producer Yoongi was acting right now, reminding you of the last time you met at the music awards night, where his rowdy bandmates would always somehow end up behind or beside you, with Yoongi being dragged to their other side. He was blushing hard while berating his friends, whining at them to stop. "I have the demo now if you'd like to hear it..." Yoongi's deep voice pulls you back to the conversation. "Yes please.." You smile at him. He wipes a sweat from his forehead. A cacophony of subdued giggles erupt from his side, off camera. Yoongi's startled eyes meet yours to check if you're wondering what that was but you pretend to not notice. The demo song begins to play and you bop your head to it. Until the rap part comes up. "Theres a rap part?" You question. Yoongi turns down the music to answer you. "Yes, i'm thinking Hoseok can do it-" "But you’re a rapper too, right?" You flex your fingers together, resting your chin above it. "Huh?" He replies, in surprise and amusement. "Why don’t you just do the rap part?" You ask. "H-how did you know I rap?" Yoongi twirls a pen between his fingers worryingly fast. "You have two rap mixtapes???" You answer him. Is this news to him? "YoU KNOW THAT I HAVE MIXTAPES??" He almost falls out of his seat. "Am I not supposed to?!" You panic a little. Another set of off-screen mumbling happens behind Yoongi's camera. A water bottle slides into his frame, passed by whoever was coaching him. Yoongi collects his cool after taking a huge gulp. "I just wasn’t expecting you to know that I'm a rapper..." He calmly replies. "You’re a world famous musician, you think I wouldn’t know?" You reply, smiling at him. Min Yoongi loses his cool once again upon seeing your smile. He laughs, a little too loud, a little too long, its almost unnerving. "God, he's so embarrassing..." A voice mumbles off-screen from his side, followed by a scraping of a chair against the floor. Yoongi clears his throat and sits up on his chair. "If you don’t like the song, it's not coming out." He says. "Oh? Why not?" You question. "Well, no one else can sing it like you would. As I said, this song is made for you. And if you won't take it, it might as well stay on my shelf..." Yoongi shrugs. Aww, you say to yourself. "Fortunately, I do love the song. And I can’t wait to start working with you. Will you send the schedule over when you can?" You tell him excitedly. Yoongi stares blankly for a few seconds, eyes wide, jaw slack, and eyebrows raised. You begin to wonder if the internet is lagging. The laptop on the other end is suddenly whisked back to face the crowd of six that was watching Yoongi behind the camera. One of them spoke up and said "Yoongi will keep in touch as soon as he recovers from being lovestruck. Thank you for your time, miss L/n!" And then the laptop on the other end snaps shut.

#Yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fluff #min yoongi

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spygender · 3 years

Text

Written by @ninja-kitty-more-like-no

Spy��s not quite sure how he fucked this one up so badly.

The last round ended half an hour ago, and he has no idea whats happened to his ankle except that he got caught on the edge of one of the BLU Demo’s explosions and he’d heard something pop, and now he can’t walk. He’s holed up a few rooms away from Respawn, and he knows there are people in the base. He can hear them moving above him. If he just waits, someone will find him. He will be fine.

He leans his head back against the wall. He just has to wait.

He’s not sure how long he stays there, but it’s long enough for the sensory deprivation to kick in. When the lights flick on, his hands are balled around his lighter and his jaw is set. He flinches when he feels someone cup his jaw, flicks his knife open to their throat before he processes who or what or why.

Medic blinks at him, his thumb still resting delicately on Spys cheek. Neither of them move for a long moment.

“I don’t suppose you just decided to take a nap down here, did you?” Medic asks conversationally. He gently pats Spy’s cheek before moving to inspect him. He’s not wearing his coat. “You should know by now that there are perfectly good beds upstairs.”

“I’m well aware,” Spy responds, slightly hoarse from his silence. He clears his throat. His chest has gotten tight, suddenly. “I hurt my ankle.”

“You could have gone through Respawn,” Medic chides him quietly, probing gently at his ankle. He hisses as the pain flares. “We were worried about you.”

He doesn’t apologize, although that spring coils tighter in his chest. He doesn’t say anything, just lets Medic finish his examination, his tongue between his teeth. He doesn’t trust himself to speak right now.

“It’s definitely broken,” Medic tells him cheerfully. “The good news is that I can definitely fix it. Or I could give you hooves instead! Your choice!”

Spy stares at him for a moment. “Absolutely n- what are you doing.”

In the time it’s taken for that recommendation to set in, Medic has scooped him up into a bridal carry with an alarming amount of ease. He can feel every spot where he’s being held- in desperation, he hooks his arms around Medics neck and squeezes his eyes shut.

Medic laughs quietly, and gently bumps his head against Spy’s. His face feels uncomfortably warm under his mask. He’s beginning to think he may have hurt a rib, too, because it feels like the upper part of his torso has been left on the floor. “I am not going to drop you, Herr Spy. Have a little faith.”

Spy doesn’t react except to blush harder and look away, which, really, should tell him all he needs to know.

~|~

He’s not hurt like that again for some time, which means he’s not at all prepared for his next interaction of this caliber. He’s just sitting on the couch reading a book when Medic sits down next to him and starts to read over his shoulder. Which is- which is fine, if slightly off-putting. He’s dealt with this before, and at least Medic doesn’t try to make him wait to turn the page. It’s fine. It’s all going just fine.

Coo.

There is a bird in his lap.

The bird was not in his lap a moment ago.

Before he can open his mouth, Medic has already launched into an explanation about the literacy rates of doves in this area, and how his have a private education and need to keep their edge if he’s going to affect any real change, and how Spy is doing him such a favor, really, if he’s just let his bird stay where it is and read Descartes with them-

“Take your pigeon back.”

Medic pouts for a moment, then scoops up his bird and strokes its head with the pad of his thumb as it coos quietly. “She’s a dove.”

“She’s not going to sit in my lap for storytime,” he bites.

He pouts harder, reaching for Spy’s book. “What if I read, and you both sit for storytime?”

Spy does not object. Medic takes the book and presses a kiss to his cheek over his mask.

When he starts to read, Spy doesn’t hear a single word.

~|~

Every time he looks up and sees Medic clapping someone on the shoulder, pulling them into a hug, sprawling out contentedly with one of his teammates, it’s like the image puts a spade into the ground deep in the centremost valves of his heart.

He wants to be part of this so furiously that it hurts.

(And here is the thoight he cannot dispel: he is not made to be held.)

~|~

He finds Medic scribbling something in a notebook at the kitchen table the next night. He does not ask what it is, just sits across from him and stares at the tabletop until the pencil stops moving.

“You don’t sleep in your mask,” Medic says quietly, as if to inform him. Spy can feel him tracing over the lines of his bared face. His hands are trembling.

“I am not asleep,” he murmurs.

“You are not.”

There is a moment of silence. Nothing moves in the complex.

“Is everything alright?” Medic asks gently, and Spy wants to laugh at the sheer absurdity of the question. His skin itches where he is observed. “Did I... would you like to talk?”

No. The thought pulls something to his throat. He can’t do that now. He puts his shaking hands on the table and watches them instead of Medics face.

A longer stillness. Medic gently takes one hand in his own, and slowly begins to rub his thumb over Spys wrist, where his pulse twitches and spasms and- and-

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Medic tells him evenly. He can’t breathe. “I am going to ask you some questions. I am going to come over to your side of the table, and I’m going to take you to my office, and we will share my bed and sleep. I will not stop touching you unless you ask me to. Is this a good plan?”

He nods like a marionette on a string. Yes. Good. Medic squeezes his hand. “How often do you make skin to skin contact in a nonviolent fashion?”

He... doesnt have an answer for that. He doesn’t know. Not often. He doesn’t answer. Medic squeezes his hand and tries again.

“More than once a day?”

No.

“More than once a week?”

No.

Medic makes a small noise. Spy might call it distress if he didn’t know better. “I see.”

Spy looks up at him. There is an expression on his face he doesn’t immediately know how to quantify- sorrow, anger, calculation- longing- god. He’s so tired. It seems incredible that this contact has lasted so long, so gently- he wants more. He wants-

Medic moves to his side of the table and wraps an arm around his shoulders. Spy leans into it without hesitation, sighing quietly as Medic kisses the top of his head. “You don’t have to share your bed,” he murmurs quietly. He doesn’t know why he’s saying it. He has to ask. “I can- I am fine going back to my room, it’s not a problem-“

“Yes, it is.” Medic pulls away, forcing Spy to look at him. “You are in pain. Please let me help you.”

He’s back in the dark room.

He is not alone.

He leans forward, gives Medic plenty of time to see what he’s choregraphing and pull back.

He does not move.

Spy kisses him. Medic cups his chin and kisses him back.

He is held. He is safe. He is loved.

The room is dark, and he is not in pain.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #gentle surgery #look at abigail's excellent writing #this is so soft..............#the touch starvation kills me #submission #fave #fic

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echo-three-one · 3 years

Text

Whatever It Takes

Previous Chapter : Alex - Resurgence

Alex is now assigned to the 141 with the task of defeating Nero. Meanwhile, the Scottish Solider, John "Soap" MacTavish is tasked to train the newest addition to the squad. Will he be able to prepare her for the rescue mission bound to happen soon? Why am I asking you questions? Are you really reading this bit of text?

Chapter 2 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

F.N.G.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Task Force 141

Task Force 141 Headquarters - Briefing Room

Nero.

This was John's first official target after being moved to the 141. He was excited and terrified at the same time. He wanted to run another round at the Obstacle Course right after this brief. He wanted to be 100% fit for this job. He learned a lot at Verdansk and realized that he always had to be ready for the worst.

The briefing ended with Captain Price calling him over. John easily followed the British Captain as they huddled for a small discussion.

"Hey lad. Heard you're beating everyone's records in the training room." Price chuckled and tapped his shoulder, his thick moustache wiggled on his every word.

"Anything to get me in top shape, Sir." he humbly replied, grinning a little at the praise he gave him.

"I got a little task for you. See that girl over there?" he pointed toward a soldier in uniform by the chairs, her straight black hair fell as she took off her baseball hat.

"Aye. What about her." John questioned, his eyes focused on the subject hand.

"General Shepherd wants her in at the last minute. Just make sure she's ready for tomorrow." Price whispered as he quietly left and made his way toward the other members.

"Is she-" John leaned and realized Price already left.

"Bloody Great." he muttered as he crossed his arms, Price already left.

John joined the rest of the team involved in the Nero case as they walked a straight line across the hallway, each slowly dispersing to wherever they were needed to be, until such time that the only ones left were Gary or Roach, Alex, the CIA from Verdansk who lost his leg in a fight somewhere, and the new girl.

"Soap?" Gary called. The fellow ex-sergeant looked at him as if he wanted to ask a favor.

"Whatcha got there Roach?" Soap replied, his accent articulated each word quickly.

"I've got my hands full escorting Alex to his quarters. Do you mind sending France here to the training grounds? Price told me you were going that way, anyway." Gary asked politely, scratching the back of his head.

Soap nodded. He's going to help her train anyway, so that's two birds in one stone.

"Aye. I'll take care of her." Soap spoke quickly, nodding at the two as they make their way to their destination.

"Cool guy huh, wonder what happened to his leg." France mused. Soap rolled his eyes toward her not tilting his head.

"Heard he had to manually detonate a chain of c4 charges. Everyone initially thought he died due to the explosion." Soap replied as he gestured her to follow him to the training area, whose entrance was at the far side of the building.

The walk was too quiet but Soap was sure she's following. Her footsteps echoed the halls right after his steps. He wasn't the best at meeting people but he tried his best to get comfortable, she's going to be a teammate after all.

"So, what's your deal here?" he spoke, his voice echoed across the empty halls.

"What?" she replied.

"You heard me." was all he said.

"Stealth tactics and close combat." She muttered. MacTavish raised his eyes and nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hmm. We're going to be playing in an open field soon. What made Shepherd think you're up for this?" his question was out of sheer curiosity but the female soldier furrowed her brows and took it differently.

"Maybe he thinks I'm that good." she retorted, emphasizing the word 'that'.

Soap stopped on his tracks and turned to her,

at this angle she could only see his left eye, noting the scar that ran across his eyebrows down to his upper cheek.

"Then why are we heading to the training room? You could just take a rest or something. Relax that best condition of yours." he complained. France stared at her angrily, his overall attitude towards her was questionable, and she expected Gary's words were true, guess he lied or he was wrong.

"Formality." she said, her voice felt it was holding back emotion.

"Aye. Then let's go." John turned back and continued walking to the training area. His mind was silently tracking her steps is she's still following. He couldn't help but sigh at the attitude he showed earlier, but what can he say? He wasn't good at people and it's something he wished to improve on here at the 141.

"Switching to your sidearm is faster than reloading." he muttered over France who was halfway through the course. He couldn't see it but he felt her roll her eyes as if saying, "I know that already." as she coursed through the area, shooting enemies and evading civilians. When she said she was great at stealth and close combat, she wasn't lying. Soap noticed how she smoothly maneuvered through the area, she knew which walls to hug, which enemies needed to be killed first to allow space and which spots would be the weakest and easiest to breach through. Soap was utterly impressed by her skills and now realized why Shepherd insisted on adding her last minute. This lass got some skill.

"1 minute and forty three seconds. Pretty good for your first." Soap mused noting her time.

"Let's-"

"Wait." she panted, catching her breath and looked at the board.

"I wanna go again." she exhaled. Soap turned his head in confusion.

"Okay. Then ready up." he casually instructed her as she made her way back to the start of the course.

"I'm never leaving this place until I get to that top spot." she waved and jogged to the start of the course. MacTavish chuckled.

"You could try." he boasted, but she was far enough for her to hear him. And that was what he intended.

Second try. Soap noticed a sudden spike in her efforts clearing the first area in as early as twenty seconds. Soap actually felt nervous, he wasn't rooting for her to beat him but at the same time he wanted her to… A little competition wouldn't hurt. He thought to himself

"Stop." she panted.

"Forty-five." He muttered, trying not to sound impressed.

"Another one." she panted.

"You sure? Don't over exert yourself." he replied.

"Just give me water." France demanded, lowering her rifle on the desk. Soap turned to her and nodded.

"Fine. It's over there. I'll bring you there."

"Great."

"What did you do to get that record? I tried it twice and I can't find a quicker route without taking a lot of time." she asked as she placed the cup on the desk.

"I could show you, because I can't put it into words." he muttered. France always found his words boastful, maybe because she didn't really like this guy's general attitude or maybe she expected a different John.

"Yeah? The master shows me a live demo?" she mused jokingly. She wanted to get into his nerves, if he's going to behave that way towards her then she isn't backing out without a fight.

"More like, the master teaches you how to ace this course. There's a pen and paper over there if you want to take notes." he winked and ran to the course. France crossed her arms and watched the Scottish soldier take the course. It was impressive, he was quick on his feet and accurate on his shots, never wasting a single second to think what's next. He finished the first part in under 10 seconds, France's jaw wanted to drop but she forced herself not to. She still had a lot of time to beat that record, and she isn't going to stop until she made it to the top.

Thirty-four seconds was all he took to finish the course. He didn't huff or show signs of exhaustion, France only noticed a faster rise and fall of his chest.

"So, how did I go?" Soap placed his rifle on the table in front of her.

"It was good. You're actually fast. If you give me enough time, I'll beat you and rise on the top of that list." she said proudly.

You got yourself a deal." he chuckled, leaving his hand open for a handshake, a sign of promise. She smiled sarcastically and walked out of the training area, something Soap never expected from her.

"Finally, some good competition within the base." he muttered as he picked up the rifles, unloaded them and placed them back on the armory. They didn't finish the whole training course protocol, but it's a simple thing to lie about to Price when he asks for it soon.

It was lunchtime when John finally spotted his new found rival. She sat on the usually empty table, which was now occupied by her and Alex, 141's FNGs. A Fucking New Guy and A Fucking New Gal. He lifted his tray and went straight to their table. Gary stopped his funny raccoon story and watched his fellow comrade leave their table and move to the new ones. Ghost didn't mind the move, he didn't mind anyone's affairs anyway. He just sat there and continued chewing on his food while listening to Gary's hometown shenanigans.

"Hey Alex. Do you mind if I sit here?" Soap smiled and asked the former CIA. Alex nodded in agreement and tapped his shoulder. It was a long time since they once saw each other and Alex noted the changes he had been through.

"Whoa MacTavish, impressive gains you had there. Almost didn't recognize you." Alex greeted. MacTavish sat down and placed his tray containing a single red apple.

"Verdansk taught me that I needed to be better." he muttered eyeing at the new gal who wasn't even looking at them.

"You're looking pretty fine yourself!" Soap laughed at Alex's new tan, something he wasn't aware he had.

"Yeah. This is what happens when you miss the beach so much." he scratched his head, laughing.

"So… Nero. I heard you already acquainted yourself to him." Soap informed, Alex turned to him.

"Not directly, but my previous case was about him."

"What's his deal? Intel says it's not classified as terror activity yet. Why are we after him?"

"He's got large connections to the CIA with a serum capable of deleting, altering and extracting memories. Multiple people are already reported missing and reappearing in a trance state and they think it's in preparation for a global threat." France accidentally scraped her fork causing the two to turn to her. What they saw was France, looking down on her plate, tears slowly falling, her hands gripped the utensils tightly ready to be used as weapons.

"You okay, lass?" Soap finally broke the silence.

"Ttthey.. " she sobbed, her sentence was cut off as she started to catch up with her breathing.

"There there…" Alex immediately rushed to her side to console her. Soap tried to reach out to her hand but she quickly retreated it to her pockets.

"They took my sister… and they're going to pay." she spoke softly, continuing her tears. It must be rough to have someone you hold dear get taken away. Soap thought.

"I lost someone too…" Alex whispered, France leaned on him and released her emotions. She found someone she could relate to. Soap realized that Alex may have lied just to console her, making him the second person who's willing to lie for her sake.

In the middle of all the chaos of the 141 cafeteria, the PA system alarmed the people involved on the Nero case to immediately report to the briefing room.

"Looks like the informants found something." Alex stated.

Chapter 3 : Run Through the Jungle

#horRAYfic #codmwfic #john soap mactavish #make him a hashtag #is this series also daily? idk

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psychewithwings · 4 years

Text

Love Bakugo: Pt 4 A New Perspective

Think of a man who done you wrong and input his name for the ____ (that’s the shit boyfriend’s name)

He had known that Y/n had been good friends with Bakugo in there UA days but he hadn’t been aware how close. She was working for his agency now and he couldn’t believe it. Not to mention, her first day working there had been the exact same day that his embarrassing high school year book photo was flashed at the staff meeting. Of all days, the day his girlfriend started working there. Maybe it was a good thing, a distraction so she wouldn’t catch on to his deceptions. It was horribly embarrassing that he had to confess to his boss that it was actually him. “You don’t look like this guy…” Bakugo had said. Which made it all the worse, the explanation of the nose job and all. He shut the door to the bathroom in his apartment softly behind him and pulled out his phone, ‘I miss you, call me’ He instantly felt calm seeing the text. ‘actually can I come over, we need to talk’ ‘of course’ ‘bring wine ;)’

_____ went into his ringtones and pressed the demo for his work calling ring tone. As soon as the sound stopped, he spoke. “Hello?” he said, and waited the appropriate amount of time to make the fake phone call sound convincing. “I can’t believe it, gosh he’s been here 2 weeks and- I’ll be right over.” ____ grabbed his coat and rushed into the living room. His girlfriend was curled on the couch reading a book. “Hey, work emergency, I think I’ll have to go out for a while...” She looked up from her reading. “Oh what happened? Is everything okay?” she asked concerned. He shook his head, “it’s fine, there’s just something wrong with the engines on some of the new jet packs and we’re gonna be doing the demo tomorrow. For a corporation who might want to distribute them to hero’s world wide.” He smiled, as he watched her eyes widen in surprise. She broke out into a grin, “wow that’s amazing! you’re so smart _____.” He wished that were true now that she seemed so impressed with him. “That’s a huge achievement,” her eyes narrowed, “why didn’t you tell me?” He was kicking himself now for trying to impress her. He could have just left it at ‘presentation tomorrow’. Fuck. Looking at her now he got the feeling he always got when he looked at her long enough, the feeling that she was too good for him, the feeling that she would one day realise this and that one day she would leave him. “I’ve just been working so hard, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” She smiled, “ I understand, but it really hurts my feelings when you leave me out of these parts of your life...” She paused then and look up at him with a gentle expression, “I can’t help but feel you’ve been distant lately...” Does she know? Am I caught? Fuck. “I’m sorry, work has just been really out of control lately with these new recruits,” he said hoping that she would buy it. She nodded her head slowly. “Just be honest with me...” He froze. Oh god, she did know, she knew everything, or maybe she suspected. Part of him hated himself for lying and the other part of him loved the thrill. “Is this about me working with Katsuki?” It absolutely was about her working with Bakugo. _____ hated that she said his first name so casually like that. Katsuki. Katsuki. Ugh! But she looked guilty, like she felt bad. “No, honey, it’s just a work thing, nothing to do with you at all.” She nodded, “okay, I just wanted to make sure...” _____ grasped her shoulder, “I love you, nothing you say or do could ever change that,” he said before grabbing his keys and heading out the door. And he meant it.

He picked cheap bottles of Chardonnay and Rosé from ‘buy one get one half off’ shelf at a liquor store that was on the way to her apartment. UA was visible as he exited from the fluorescent store. He cursed UA for brining Bakugo together with Y/n.

The elevator doors opened to a long hallway with a single door at the end. _____ knocked their special knock, and the door opened a few moments later. “Hi Echo,” he said taking her in. She was wearing his shirt and a pair of underwear, her hair pulled on top of her head in a messy bun. She was pretty, in an ordinary sort of way. Her features were all aesthetically pleasing, but there was nothing unique or special about them. Her quirk was similar. Everyone called her Echo, and always had, even though that wasn’t her real name at all. She had the ability to make anyone repeat what she said as long as she was looking at the person, and they heard what she said. “Oh you did bring wine!” she said as she pulled him towards her couch. She set the bag down in her chair and climbed into _____’s lap as soon as he sat down. She began to kiss his face. “I missed you,” she said and went back to her kisses. _____ kissed her back but hesitantly. “I missed you too,” he said in between kisses. “I really do want to talk though,” he said trying to get on track. “About what?” She hummed against his mouth questioning the type of talking that he would be doing. “I’m serious,” he said and Echo pulled back looking at him with big innocent eyes. “It’s about Y/n, she’s working with Bakugo,”_____ said waiting for her reaction. A big smile crossed Echo’s face. “I know, it’s amazing! Bakugo is a great boss. A little bit brash but he’s amazing. I’m so happy for her!” Echo went back to affections leaving _____ confused and slightly frustrated. “But that’s bad, because you’re going to be working with her too.” Echo furrowed her brow, not liking _____’s tone. “Duhhh, it’s not like I’m gonna say anything to her about us... It was just nice to meet her. She’s an amazing hero,” Echo said. Yes, Y/n was that for sure. “Wait… you met her?” Echo nodded, “yup, she’s just as lovely as everyone says she is,” Echo giggled then wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to look ather. “But you love me more right?” she asked. He didn’t know what to say, he loved Y/n but he loved how Echo made him feel more. He decided it would be best to change the subject. “But we have to be sneakier than usual and probably no more fun in the office anymore.” Echo groaned, “you’re such a kill joy,” she leaned close to his ear, “isn’t the almost getting caught the most fun? She had a point there. _____ took off his shirt and reached for Echos but she stopped him. “Now what do you have to say to me?” she questioned. _____ was silent, he wasn’t sure. “I love you Echo,” she said. “I love you Echo,” _____ said.

Work emergency? Work emergency your fucking ass. Why couldnt you see it before? You thought about that a lot. Ever since Katsuki told you your boyfriend was a big fat cheater the signs were so obvious. As soon as _____ left you’d called Katsuki letting him know the plans were a go. You pulled on some black yoga pants and a black sweat shirt. You grabbed the $50 that you stole from ____’s wallet and went outside to meet Katsuki. He was waiting in front of your building in his car. You hopped in the passenger seat, “hey, you wanna get ice cream after this? My treat,” you said holding out the fifty. Katsuki began to drive towards his agency. “Would love to get ice cream after, but you’re paying for nothing.” You brushed your fingers against the collar of your shirt. “Well, it’s not my money,” you said giving him an impish smirk. Katsuki shifted gears, “in that case…”

As Katsuki parked on the top floor of the parking deck, you felt defeated. There weren’t any other cars in the garage, except the van for the midnight cleaning service. Part of you, an idiot part of you, had hoped that possibly, maybe, your boyfriend’s car would be there. That it really was a work emergency. That Bakugo had made a terrible mistake and it wasn’t him after all. It was another close colleague that happened to look just like him. The worst part was how stupid you felt that you even hoped that was a possibility. You could feel tears welling in your eyes. But you pushed them back with your palms. “Hey, let’s go- wh-what’s wrong?” Bakugo was standing with his face pressed against the glass. “I-I’m fine!” you said a little too enthusiastically as you got out of the car. “If you don’t want to do this anymore…” You shook your head and walked through the doors.

It was 3 floors of installing cameras in and around closets, stairwells, and locker rooms, and offices later that Bakugo said something other than a few gruff instructions about drill assembly. He was standing on a ladder, but stepped down a few rungs to look at you. “I need to ask you something and I was gonna wait for a good time but, doesn’t seem like there will be a good one for a while…” he paused, was he scared? “Did you ever read the letter?” Your heart dropped, “Katsuki I-“ He nodded his head slowly to himself, “so you did huh?” He went back to installing the tiny camera in the ceiling vent. “I didn’t know what to do with it, no one had ever been so nice to me-“ “Listen, I said in the letter it was fine, I just would have liked an answer, ya know, back then.” He didn’t sound angry, which was somewhat comforting, but he sounded sad, which was way worse. “I know,” it was all you could say.

You finished installing the cameras together. You tried making things lighter again by reminiscing about UA, it helped but there was still a lingering sadness between the two of you. After drilling in the last screw, for the last camera, Katsuki climbed down the ladder. Maybe it was seeing a tall strong man holding power tools, maybe it was that this super tough man just finished another 2 hours of doing a favor for you, but something took over you. You grabbed his waist and held him close to you. You could feel the tears again but didn’t have the strength to push them back. You didn’t have the strength to lie to yourself or to him anymore and the truth bubbled out of you like silver water from a fountain. “I wish I’d picked you. I would have been so much happier. And I’m so sorry that it’s taken me so long to figure that out and I know it’s too late now…” He didn’t say ‘it’s okay’ because it wasn’t and you knew that. You’d fucked up by not responding to what he had written so long ago.

He drove you back to your house, “I really can’t thank you enough, there aren’t words…” He smiled and brushed his fingertips against your hand. You got out of the car, wrapping your arms around yourself, guilt seeping deep into your whole self. “Hey Y/n,” he’d gotten out of his car and the look in his eye was determined. “It’s not too late, unless you want it to be.” It what? You stuttered something back, frozen where you stood. He approached you and before he could reach you, something lit up in you. You were so fucking in love with Katsuki it wasn’t even funny. You ran to him, and kissed him. For the second time in your life, but the first where you initiated it. You’d wondered for years if the movies got anything right… It wasn’t until now you understood why some people say ‘like fireworks’. As he pulled away you realized there was a lot you had to do to prove yourself to him after practically ignoring the letter. Actually, it was time you reread it…

Tag List: @rebel---black @random-fandom-girl-24 @unawi13-blog

#bakugo x reader #bakugo #katsuki bakugō #bakugou katsuki #mha #bnha #bnha imagines #bnha one shot #i wish real men were like this #romance fiend #love bakugo

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iamyoursinblog · 4 years

Text

Nuna[END]

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, smut

Word Count: 6,7 k

Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [extra]

LIST

________________________

POV Jungkook

He went into the elevator and rested his forehead against the wall. So long it can't last. His breathing was heavy, and his heart was beating too fast. He barely stopped himself today. But you were too sexy. He won a small victory. But why was it feel so sad deep inside.

You were right in everything. Now it’s clear why you saw the child in him. He only thought about his feelings. Why didn’t he think about the reality in which he lived. What was he hoping for. He could not date with anyone, and if someone take a photo of him with a girl, the group would have problems because of him. He is such a fool! That's why he gets into all sorts of troubles. He cannot even come to you when he wants it, only when they have free time. “See you tomorrow” - he doesn’t even know if he will be able to leave the dorm tomorrow. But he must take a chance, not for that he went so far as to surrender so easily now. He must do everything possible. You agreed - that was the only thing that mattered. You watched a movie while you sat in his arms. He smiled. He must tease you, you must feel that need him. If while he can’t win your heart, he must at least conquer your body. He knows that you always played with guys, if he wants to be with you, he should become the main one in this game.

He quickly got home and went into the apartment. The party was in full swing. For a long time he had not seen hyungs so drunk.

“Kooky !!! Where were you my favorite, maknae. I missed you so much. ”Jin hugged him, kissing him on the cheek.

"Hyung, you're drunk!" he tried to break out of hyung's steel grip.

"Have you got a girlfriend?" asked Yoongi

“Of course, I have a lot of free time for this. What is the reason for that party? ” he quickly changed the subject.

“It's just that when you meet friends you no come so earlier and you are always drunk. And now it’s not even midnight and you are sober” Hoseok said with suspiciously.

“Reporter Kim Namjoon, Bangtan TV. Comment of this situation, Mr. Jeon” approached him Namjoon, using a bottle of soju instead of a microphone.

“Hyungs, you are all drunk. I have a photoshoot tomorrow morning. So I didn’t drink much and returned early” he made excuses.

“Okay, okay ... Justified!" Hoseok tapped with a spoon on the table.

Everyone began to laugh. He joined them, and taking a beer. " Do you like _________? Why do you constantly write dirty stuff to her all times.” asked Jin to Yoongi.

Jungkook choked a beer. ‘Why are you asking him this, hyung’, he thought. So he need to calm down. It is impossible that they all recognize on the first day.

“Yes, I like her” Yoongi replied, and Jungkook felt a growing worry inside. “We are sex friends” Namjoon dropped a can of beer, Hoseok was sitting with his mouth wide open, and Jungkook could not move from what he had just heard. He laughed out loud. “Wow ... It was worth it! This is a reaction! Daebak! She and I are friends in sex conversations. She knows everything about me and I about her. We give advice to each other, etc. There is nothing between us except friendship ”

“So you know all her boyfriends?” asked Jin

"Yes I knew"

“And do you know which idol she date?” sat closer Hoseok

"Yes I knew. But only they did not date, they just had sex. He does not have time for a relationship, she too. So they met together”

"Who is it? Who?" Hoseok bounced from excitement on a chair

"I will not say. If she wanted you to know, she would tell you herself” Yoongi replied, taking a sip of whiskey.

"But we are so interested" whined Hoseok

“I even have no doubt that you are interested”

“At least tell me from which group he is?” Yoongi shook his head, “Okay! At least tell me what agency he is from? ” did not give up Hoseok

"Okay, nevermind. Who cares who he is. This is her own business, it does not concern us. You don't want go to the barbecue? Long time we not ate grill meat ” said Jungkook

He tried to change the topic several times, but Hoseok still did not give up, and tried to find out who you were meeting. 'I wonder ____ will tell Yoongi about me,' he thought. While you were talking, the front door opened, Taehyung and Jimin came very drunk.

“Weren't you in the spa? Why the hell are you so drunk, and most importantly where? ” asked Namjoon

“We met a hubaes, they were going to a barbecue. They invited us to join them "said Taehyung, staggering

"Our maknaes are so grown" fell on the table Jin

Everyone laughed because of Jin' dramatic behavior. The rest of the night was a lot of fun. After everyone went sleep, he stayed with Yoongi in the kitchen.

"What's going on?" Yoongi asked, passing him a new beer.

"What are you talking about, hyung?" he asked him

“Do you like ________? That's why you are acting like this? ”

"Why do you think so? All is fine, hyung, I'm just tired, that's all! ”

“That you can tell others. You practically stop breathing when we talk about her. What happened at the last party? ”

"Nothing happened. Everything as usual"

“You don't want to talk, okay. I want to give you friendly advice: don’t start what you’re not sure about and don’t ruin everything because of a second desire ”

“What if I'm sure?”

Yoongi raised his head and looked into his eyes for several seconds studying his face. He got up and went up to him. Putting a hand on his shoulder, he said, “Sometimes, one-sided confidence may not be enough. Just be careful, otherwise it will hurt you in the end.” He squeezed his shoulder lightly before headed for the bedroom.

He sat and looked at the wall. Why does everyone say that he should be hurt. Is there really no chance that everything would be fine. Even your consent is more a way to show him that nothing will work out than a chance to be with him. “My confidence is enough for two,” he whispered, taking his last sip of beer. Throwing to bin empty can, he went into the bedroom. Having taken a shower, he put on his pajamas and lay down in bed. He checked the phone, there are no notifications from you, although you wrote a lot in group chat. You were still online, everyone is already sleeping, maybe you are texting with Yoongi. he opened a private chat with you and wrote

'Good night, cutie. It’s a pity that you are not near me. I want to fall asleep next, hugging you'

A minute later, the answer came: 'Didn't you say that you should get up early? Why aren’t you sleeping yet? '

'Do you worry about me? I am pleased to'

'Good night' he smiled at your answer, or rather that you did not answer his question.

'I like you, nuna. Fall in love in me'

'Crazy' he laughed after reading your answer.

Putting the phone under the pillow, he fell asleep with a smile on his face. For the first time in a long time, he slept very well. No thoughts disturbed him. Although he did not oversleep so much, in the morning he felt completely rested. He quickly packed up and went to the parking lot where the manager was waiting for him. “You look well rested, apparently you slept well.” Said the manager as soon as he saw him.

"Truth? Today I really slept really well.” He smiled as he got into the car. The first half of the day passed calmly. He could not stop smiling when they did makeup, because he was thinking about you all the time. He was wondering if you want to become their makeup artist. No, it was a bad idea. He would not be able to control himself, and all the staff would know about you within 5 minutes. While he was getting ready to shoot, he quickly wrote you 'Good morning. Have a good day. Do not strain your hand' a few minutes later he received the answer 'Good morning. Aren't you in the photoshoot? Don't be distracted from work.'

‘Oh dear, what a little grumpy. It's so cute’, he thought.. A few hours later it was all over. He hoped that their schedule was not very busy, and he could see you at least for half an hour. He got into the car and plunged in search of online flower delivery, it would be difficult for him to do it personally. He hoped that after 10 pm he would be free, so he made an order for this time and immediately paid back. He is also ordering a bottle of good wine and your favorite cake with the inscription 'Demo cake in honor of the first day of our demo relationship' While he was looking at the phone, the car stopped. He looked out the window, they were in the home parking lot. He saw other members near their group's van.

"Have you packed your stuff? If not, then hurry up”said the manager while getting out of the car.

“What, which stuff? What are you talking about, hyung? ” he asked, not understanding what was happening.

“What? Didn’t you hear yesterday? We are leaving for Busan to shoot a video, until the end of the week. Hurry up” said the manager. He stood in the middle of the parking lot, not believing what was happening now. To Busan? Until the end of the week? Stop. If this was known yesterday, Jin could tell you that they will leaving until end of the week. Really ... No, this cannot be ... You agreed to be with him because of you knew that he was leaving, and this only shows that he cannot do what he wants and date with someone he wants? The reality was too cruel.

He went into the elevator and dialed you.

“Did you know?”

“And hello to you. What are you talking about?" you asked.

“Did you know about this? Is that was your plan? ”

“I'm of course smart enough, but now I don’t understand what you’re talking about. You can calm down and ask a normal question. What exactly did I must to know and what plan are you talking about?”

“Did you know that I was leaving for Busan today until end of the week? Jin told you that yesterday? So thats why you agreed to try to be with me? To show me that nothing will happen the way I want? ”

You sighed heavily, “If you are going to make such teenage tantrums, then let's finish everything right now” you said in a calm voice and hung up. He was practically seething with anger when he reached his room. He threw things into the suitcase with force. Having collected all that is necessary, he went down to the parking lot and got into the car to the others.

"What happened? The photoshoot was a bad? In the morning you were in a good mood, ”Jimin asked when he sat down beside him.

“You're right, the mood was even too good.”

“You wrote _______ that we'll leaving until end of the week. Didn’t you make a meeting with her for tomorrow? ” asked Yoongi to Jin.

"Oh heck!!! I completely forgot. Because of our party, it completely flew out of my head. I'll write to her now” Jin took out his phone and started writing a message.

Jungkook dropped the phone from his hand. Damn, he screwed up. Again. He ruined everything without even having time to start. For an hour he could think of nothing but how stupid he had acted. Looking at the phone, he remembered the order he was doing. He went into the confirmation of the order, and sent a request to change the inscription on the cake 'Forgive me. I'm really not a mature child. Please give me one last chance.' Upon reaching the place, they had dinner and arrived at the hotel. He was settled in one room with Taehyung, but he was lucky because Taehyung went out for a walk with the rest of the members. He lay on the bed, and continued to look at the phone. He madly wanted to write or call you. But he could not. Not after what he made this afternoon. He received a notice that his order had been delivered. But you didn’t write anything ...

The next few days he did not even understand what he was doing, he just did everything that was told to him. He very often caught the worried glance of the members. But he didn’t care. On the last evening, he alone lay in the room, because everyone had left to a nightclub. Tomorrow morning they were returning home. They had a few days off.

He heard a knock on the door and got out of bed to open the door. On the threshold stood Yoongi. He had several bottles of soju in his hands. He walked by and sat on the floor between the beds. He put down two glasses and poured them. Jungkook still stood by the door.

"Sit down" said Yoongi

He went to the bed and sat on the floor opposite. Yoongi without a word handed him a glass and taking his drank it to the bottom, maknae did the same. Yoongi again poured them a full glass and they drank again. This went on several times. After the fifth glass, Yoongi finally broke the silence. "Talk" he said, filling the glasses again.

"There is nothing to talk ..."

Yoongi interrupted maknae not letting him finish the sentence. “If you say that 'everything is fine' or start talking about how tired you are. I swear I'll kick your ass. Therefore, stop lying and tell what is happening. Or should I call and ask _____?”

No, he certainly didn’t want it. He has not talked to you since that day. You haven’t written anything to him. You were right, now he really was hurt. He drank a glass, and tell his story. He told absolutely everything in detail, without hiding anything. He could no longer keep it into himself. He could not raise his head, he was too ashamed to look at hyung in his eye.

“God, you fool. Moron. How could it be so screwed up in a few days.” Yoongi sat and shaking his head. “Didn't I warn you that it will be so? Why didn’t you listen _______, when she told you the same thing. Of course, I understood that something goin on, but I did not expect that you had already managed to ruin everything ”

“Hyung, I know that I’m an idiot even without you. What I screwed up. This is not what I want to hear from you. ”

“No, you really listen. Another thousand, tens of thousands, millions of times how exactly you screwed up! ”

"What should I do now, hyung?" How can I fix it? ”

"What to do? To fix? Forget it, until you make the situation worse. It's not have enough for you of suffering, do you still want her to suffer because of you? Do you think I was not falling in love with her? ”

“Hyung ...” he was in shock.

“You are such a child. How could I not fall in love with her. It was as soon as we met. But unlike you, I reallist at things. Therefore, I put my feelings to hell until they grew. I have no regrets, we are good friends. But if I then tried to do something, I would ruin everything. That's why I advised you to think carefully about what you are going to do. Did you really think she set it up? ”

“Yes, I thought so. I just could not believe that she agreed. And it was easier for me to think into something bad, than to hope for sincerity on her part. When I heard in the car that she knew nothing .... Hyun, I thought I was going to die at that moment. It hurt so much for what I told to her. She is right that I am a child who is driven only by feelings. But I'm not ready to give up so easily. I will make any decision, but I can’t live if I don’t even try to fix it.”

“On the one hand, I envy you, your romantic hope. But on the other hand, I'm afraid you’ll hurt yourself even more ”

“It can’t be more hurts than now. So at least I will know that I did everything I could. And I won’t imagine every night "what could happened!"

“I won’t stop you, but I won’t help you either. The only help I can give you is to pretend that this conversation never happened. ”

They drank the last glass, and Yoongi went into his room. He sat on the floor and looked at the ceiling. He took the phone out of his pocket and wrote you the message 'Forgive me. Good night'

In the morning, absolutely everyone was tormented by a terrible hangover. On the way, they stopped at a restaurant for a portion of hangover soup. He liked that everyone was silent and no one paid attention to him. In silence, they returned home. Having taken a shower, he was lying in his room thinking what to do. He quickly dressed and drove to you. On the way, he bought flowers, he scared the seller with his appearance. She probably thought he was a robber. After a while he stood in front of your door. He looked at the bell and did not dare to ring it. Have you been home? Have you been home alone? Thoughts revolved in his head. Taking a few deep breaths, he rang the doorbell. After a moment he heard a noise after the door, it's good. You were at home. Opening the door, you examined him from head to toe.

“You're not from the delivery I ordered. What are you doing here?"

"Can we talk? Please"

You took a step back by letting him into the apartment. Turning around you went to the living room. You turned off the TV and sat on the sofa. He was following you, his head was empty. He laid flowers on a coffee table, went to you and knelt.

"What are you doing? Get up"

"Please forgive me. I will make any decision of yours and do everything as soon as you want. But please give us another chance. The last chance. Please” he was kneeling looking at the floor. He was unable to look you in the eye.

“Isn't it you who made the decision. You made it clear enough that you think of me. So why are you now kneeling in front of me and talking about some chance there” you got up and wanted to go past him. He took your hand stopping you. He rose from the floor and turned you to him.

"Forgive me. Sorry ... I just could not believe that you gave me a chance ... What did you give a chance to someone like me ... Therefore, when I heard about the trip, I could not stop my thoughts that you only wanted to play with me ... And only then I learned in the car that Jin didn’t tell you anything ... I felt like the last bastard. Forgive me."

“If you didn’t trust me from the very beginning, what the point to discuss something now. What the point was to start something at all”

"I trust you. Forgive me"

“So you made a tantrum because you trust me? So you said that I set it up everything because you trust me? You thought that I was just playing with you because you trust me? Have you even thought about me for a second? Have you ever thought for a second that I really want to try something with you? But I'm more angry for myself. I was wrong. It hurt me too. It was too painful to hear this from you.” You turned your back to him.“ Go away ” you whispered ...

Everything inside was broken. You gave him a chance because you really started to like him. But he only hurt you. He came up and hugged you from back. You took a step forward breaking out of his arms. He hugged you again. You turned around pushing him away “I said, go away” he came up and kissed you. Again pushing him away, you hit a slap in the face. He took your wrists and pressed against the wall. He held your wrists over your head while he kissed you again. Your quarrel only excited him. The fact that his feelings were mutual, removed any fear in him. He pressed you with his body, preventing you from moving. After a couple of minutes your attempts to break out completely disappeared. He looked up from your lips and said, looking into your eyes, “I want you! You have three seconds to stop me. 1,2 ... ” before he said '3' you kissed him. This time the kiss was very hard and painful. His fingers stumbled forcefully into your body leaving traces. He could not control himself now. Everything that happened over the past week, all the feelings and pain, everything was reflected in this kiss. He lifted you up in the air so that you would wrap your legs around his waist. He went to your bedroom without breaking the kiss. Throwing you on the bed, he took off his hoody and T-shirt before kissing you again. Your fingers pressed into his skin. He practically tore off your clothes. The excitement was too strong to delay or be gently. After your kiss at the door, he woke up every night from his moans, because he dreamed of you, how he fucks you. He was lucky what Taehuyng sleep very soundly, and did not catch him when he woke up from the fact that he was moaning your name in a dream. He quickly took off the rest of his clothes before returning to bed. He sharply turned you on your stomach and bent your leg up.

You were also very excited like him, so despite the fact that you squeezed his cock inside, he was able to enter the entire length. He came out of you abruptly. And he made a harder jolt, making your body tremble. He lost the remnants of control over himself. He fucked you with hard, deep jolts. Sensations sent electric charges through his spine. The way your body trembled under him from the pleasure and your moans grew louder, covered him with a wave of pleasure. He won’t keep so long because you squeezed his cock with your pussy. He ran his fingers through your hair, squeezing them tightly. His teeth left marks on your neck and shoulders. He wanted to show everyone that you belong to him. There was nothing civilized in this sex, only animal passion. “I'll cumming now” you moaned when his jolts became too fast. He was glad, he barely held on. It was too good. The sensations were so strong that it seemed the heart would now stop from enjoying. He moved his hand to the clit and rubbed it. Your body trembled under him while you cum hard. His dick would be squeezed by your pussy so tightly that he could hardly move to make a few jerks. His dick twitched filling you with sperm. His whole body was chained by an orgasm, that fell upon him.

He was lying on you. He could feel how your and his hearts beating fast in unison. He was breathing heavily while recovering. He had never experienced such a strong orgasm in his life. He felt his cock pulsating inside you. Despite the fact that he just cum very hard, he was still completely hard on. He flipped you onto your back and entered you again. He hugged you and rolled over. Now you was lay on him. He continued to make slow, shallow jolts. Pleasure rose in waves, spreading warmth through the body. He wanted more. He felt his jolts make his sperm flow out of you. Every push made your skin goosebumps. He again felt very excited. He began to make deep jerks. Tougher than before, although they were still slow. His fingers dug into your hips, pushing you as deep on him as possible. Your hands moved to his wrists. You squeezed his hands hard enough, push him out to the bed. You kissed him hard by biting his lip. Pain pierced him, but why did it only make him more excited. “Now it's my turn,” you said. You ran your hands over your body, squeezing your breast. The sight of you swinging on his cock, and your hands playing with your breast, made him as excited more. When you descended on his cock, he raised his hips making jolt harder. Your one hand moved to his stomach, digging his nails into his abs. The pain made his cock twitch in you. He abandoned his attempts to move and lay calmly, accepting everything that you give him.

You was put your hands on his chest. It made you change the angle of penetration into you. Your movements have become faster. His glans rubbed against the wall of the vagina. His body was trembling with pleasure. Each of your movements sent a discharge through his body that made him arch his back. “If you continue like that, I’m not enough for even 5 minutes,” he whispered, breathlessly with pleasure. You lowered and ran your tongue over his nipple. 'You want his dead', he thought when you did the same with another nipple. He was on the verge. He sat abruptly, making you stay kneel again. He wrapped his arm around your waist to control your jolts, slowing them down. He sucked your nipple in his mouth. Your breast drove him crazy all this time. He played with his tongue with your nipple, sucking it. He clamped your nipple with his teeth and felt how tightly you squeezed his cock, he repeated the same thing to another. He lowered you to cock forcing you to do hard jerks. You pushed him down again so he lay down. He was lying looking at you. Just your appearance could make him cum right now. Your body was wet, he could see red marks on your hips and neck that he had left, and your eyes were covered with pleasure. You looked very lecherous. He lost count of how many nights he spent imagining you that way while jerking off. Your pace has accelerated greatly, and your fingers have moved to your clitoris. He kept his last strength so as not to cum first. His fingers caressed your skin. He ran across your stomach, rising to your chest. Your skin was so hot. “Damn it, fuck, fuck.. I’m cumming ... Oooh, this is too fucking good.." you said and tightly squeezed his cock inside, which made his body tremble with pleasure. He gripped you tightly in his arms as you fell onto his chest. He continued to make quick hard jolts reaching his orgasm, he could not control the loud moans that burst from him when he cumming. It felt like whole his body was breaking. As if he were drawn into a hurricane, and his body just hung in the air. He could neither hear nor see anything around. He felt like in heaven.

It seems he lost consciousness for several minutes, but you didn’t even notice this, because you also came to your senses after an orgasm. His whole body was trembling. He rolled onto side when he was able to feel his body again. He lay in an embrace you and he left a tender kiss on your lips. He pressed you closer to his body, he wanted to completely dissolve into you, what was this moment never ends. Now in this world there was nothing but the two of you. He did not want to return to reality without knowing what awaited him there.

“We need a shower, but my body refuses to move,” you said, resting on his chest.

“I don’t feel my body, let's forget about the shower. I like being dirty. ” you laughed at his words. The sound of your laughter, the fact that you were lying embracing him made his melt, from the tenderness that he felt. Despite the fact that this was the first time, the feeling was as if you had been dating for many years. After a while, you still got up and went into the shower. He leaned against the wall, clutching you to him, while hot water flowed down your bodies. He did not want to lose even the slightest opportunity to feel you. Leaving the shower, he gently wiped your body while your fingers played with his wet hair. He pulled you and kissed you. Your lips are so seductive, he wanted to kiss you every second. Back on the bed, you pulled out the bedspread to the floor and were light at a clean bedding. It felt so natural. You two were cuddling in your bed. After a long time, you asked him, “Don't you have to go back at dorm?”

Reality brought you back from heaven to earth. But he did not want to let go of his, even a short, moment of happiness. He reached into the pants that were lying on the floor and pulled out his phone. He quickly printed a message saying that he would stay with friends today because they were going to drink all night, and sent it to Jin. Without waiting for an answer, he threw the phone back into a pile of your clothes. “No, don't. I want to stay with you tonight. I want to sleep with you and hugging all night. And I absolutely do not care if you do not want it. If you’ll be indignant, I’ll just bind you” he said with a grin.

"Look at you, how you talk" you answered laughing.

“And by the way, looking ahead, I want to say right away. I regard all of this as your positive response, in to give me one last chance. ”

“Okay” you raised your head to meet his eyes. "The last chance. The conditions remain the same: no jealousy, no commitment and no demands. ”

“This time I will not spoil anything”

“You didn’t forget that in a month you’re going on tour, and next week you start preparing for the concert? Just clarifying just in case”

"I remember". But he did not want to think about it now. He will simply rejoice at every moment that you can spend together. Now he was happy and you were in his arms.

[The day before leaving for the tour]

He was happy that he had the opportunity to break out to you, albeit not for long. All this time you managed to meet only for short moments. You came to the hostel several times. He remembered how quickly dragged you into the bathroom while everyone was busy in the kitchen. He left some quick slaps on your ass becouth you were changing into Jin clothes again. “I want only my clothes, my hands, my lips and my cock on or into your body. You understood?” he ripped off the shorts from you and made some hard jerks. He abruptly stepped out of you, straightened his clothes, and stepped out of the bathroom. He left another slap on your bare ass before leaving you choking on excitement. He practically laughed when he remembered that he had paid for it, because you seduced him all evening, after what you left without giving the opportunity to even touch you.

He got to your door and rang the bell. You opened the door, "Hello," you said, and he froze. You were only wearing a transparent lace cape on a naked body. A grocery bag that was in his hand slipped down. He didn't care. He began to take off his clothes while closing the door behind him. He pushed you against the wall, unfastening his pants. In a second he was already deep into you. He fucked you maybe too hard, but he couldn't stop. Each jolt into your tight hot pussy felt too good, he could not restrain loud moans. He did not care if the whole house heard his moans. He kissed you. It was a kiss saturated with lust, desire and debauchery... He could no longer endure, he put his hand between you, covering your clitoris with your fingers. He quickly rubbed it to make you cum. As soon as you squeezed his cock with force, he could no longer restrain his orgasm. You have cum at the same time. His fingers pressed into your skin while he was lost in his pleasure. Your moans mixed up filling the apartment. After a few minutes, you were still standing motionless. He hugged you, holding your body to himself while he was still inside you. “And hello to you” he laughed...

“Usually people kiss first each other at the meeting, rather than fuck hard at the door” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“Didn't I kiss you? As for me, this is the best greeting in all times”

“Didn't you left the grocery bag behind the door?”

“Heck, food” he gently stepped out of you. He took some napkins and wiped himself off. Putting his pants back on, he reached for a T-shirt that was lying on the floor. “Go to the shower, I'll prepare everything for the barbecue for now” he said, turning you towards the shower and slightly slapping you.

"Crazy". Before you could take a step, he slipped fingers into your hair. He turned your head and kissed you passionately. He ran the finger of his second hand over your pussy, playing with your clit, he made your body tremble. He tucked his head away to run a finger across your lower lip before sticking it into your mouth. Your soft moan made you tighten his grip on your hair. He removed a finger from your mouth and kissed you again. He groaned when he felt your and his taste on your lips. His fingers gripped your nipple, making your moan loudly. “You and me are perfect mix” he said with a lustful smile. He turned you and took the second nipple in his mouth eagerly sucking it. He put fingers in your pussy, stretching you. He used sperm as a lubricant to fuck you. He quickly jerk his fingers inside you, each time hitting your clitoris. While your hips not started trembling with an advancing orgasm. He felt you squeeze his fingers. “Wait. Please ... I’ll cumming now ... Fuck!” you gasped at the combination of his mouth on your nipples and his fingers with the force of fucking you. He kissed you again drowning out your moans while you hard cum on his fingers. He slowly drove wet fingers over your clit, stretching your orgasm ... He stepped back, inspecting you from head to toe. Raising his hand, he licked his fingers. His lips glistened with your juices, and he drew his tongue over them, “You are so tasty,” he grinned.

“I think I’m influencing you badly” you said, shaking your head, turning to the side of the bath. He pressed you to the wall, leaving a bite on your neck.

“I like how you influence me” he kissed you once more before letting go. He opened the door and laughed, seeing a bag around which groceries were scattered. He quickly assembled everything and went into the kitchen. He took out a grill and washed the leaves of lettuce and perilla for your barbecue. He chopped vegetables and then set the table. You went into the kitchen just when he had finished arranging everything. You easily patted his ass, “Such a good boy.” He smiled broadly when he turned and saw that you were in his T-shirts and shorts, which he left with you. “You look just unrealistically sexy in my stuff” he left a light kiss on your lips.

You laughed while preparing a barbecue. He did not want to think that he was leaving tomorrow, and would not be able to see you for a very long time. He enjoyed every second spent with you.

“I have homework for you while I am gone” he said.

"Homework? I’ve already left that age when I doing homework, plus I’ve never been a diligent student.”

“For some reason, I am absolutely not surprised at this. Bad girl. Wait you distracted me ”

"Okay, I'm listening to you."

“I want our relationship to become real, and not a demo version. I do not ask you to answer right now. Just think about it while I'm gone. If you'll miss me hard enough, answer me yes. If my absence will be not noticeable to you, I will forget about this conversation, and our relationship will remain at the same level, and this conversation will never happen again ” he tried to sound calm, despite the excitement that made his heart beat at a frantic speed.

“Okay, I'll think about it.”

Having finished dinner, he had to return to dorm and pack his things. The first time I felt sad when going on a tour.

•…•…•…•…•…•…•…•…•…•…•…•…•

A month and half later...

He was lying on the bed in the room. He liked that the schedule was full. Constant repetition and preparations did not let him lose his mind on how much he missed you. They changed another city. You often chat with him, he told you how their tour goes, telling funny stories that happened to them. Your communication was the same. But he still haven’t answered the homework he gave you. He could not ask you, because he promised you to make any decision, but why he was so sad about it. He took out the phone and wrote to you, sending some photos from their rehearsal. Despite the time difference, you answered quickly enough. He call you, wanting to hear your voice.

"How are you?" he asked as soon as you picked up

"I am pretty good. There is a lot of work now, so I’m practically not comming back at home. ”

You talked discussing who was doing what the last days. Half an hour later, you said goodbye, wishing each other good night.

He went to the shower when he heard a notification sound. He went out and looked at the phone; he was sure that it was either one of the members or a manager. He was surprised when he saw your name on the screen. He opened the message

'By the way, Jungkook. I finally got the answer to your homework. ' His heart skipped a beat. He was worried too much because of which he did not can put at the right letters. After a third attempt, he was finally to write the message correctly

“And what is the answer to your homework?”

His heart was beating hard while he waited for an answer. It seems time has stopped going for him. Waiting seemed like an eternity. Finally got a response

'I miss you!'

He practically squealed with joy. He climbed onto the bed and jumping with joy, like a child who was got best Christmas present. He absolutely didn't care about Jimin, who went into the room and froze in the doorway.

"Are you crazy?" asked Jimin

He ran to Jimin and hugged him, lifting him into the air. He left a kiss on his cheek before releasing and going to the bathroom. Jimin was still standing in the middle of the room and was in deep shock from what just had happened. He went into the bathroom and re-read your message.

“I miss you too, so badly!!!” he quickly sent you an answer.

Now he was completely happy.

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