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saintobio · 3 years

Text

pov: you’re broken and he’s fixing you.

↳ akaashi keiji/reader

(this is a spin-off to pov: he’s a player and you’re his favorite game. please click here if you haven’t read.)

description. after a strange encounter led your boyfriend to find out about your tainted past, he develops a mistrust and questions whether you’re still his ideal girl at all.

genre. angst, hurt/comfort, college au

cw. mentions of nudity and videotaping, profanity, slut-shaming (not from akaashi he’s gucci), usage of alcohol/intoxication, reference to drugs

notes. iwaizumi akaashi whores, i come bearing with another gift! this oneshot is set prior to the drabble, enjoyyy!

masterlist

For the past two months, it was safe to say that Akaashi was in love.

As cheesy as it sounded, he never expected that the feeling of love at first sight was actually real and that you were the living proof of it. There was just something about you that made him feel warm. It wasn’t just because you were physically gorgeous—he also liked how expressive your eyes were or how your smile could brighten his day. He was addicted to the look on your face whenever you were happy and just about contented.

He remembered the day he met you and how he asked you for directions, not knowing that you were crying at 6AM while walking around the campus. He thought you were adorable with just the way you had a pout on your lips when you first looked at him, but he also felt bad that you seemed so broken.

It wasn’t like you discussed your whole history with him—you just told him that the reason you were pathetically crying that day was because someone broke your heart and that you’ve decided to finally let that person go. You didn’t really go into detail about what happened nor did you tell him about the person behind your tears. You simply wanted to ‘move on and forget the guy’ were the words Keiji remembered you said.

So when he gave you an offer for a friendly coffee date, he was glad that you did agree to him. And he was even more glad that, what was once a casual date, now turned into something more tangible. A relationship, if you call it.

Akaashi helped you get through your pain until the love you’ve had for the past guy had now shifted to him. It was sweet, he realized, to have you by his side when he pulled all-nighters at the cafe procrastinating his weekly papers. In return, he would visit you at your dorm with your favorite snacks when you were too busy to meet with him for a date. It was simple give-and-take, but something he sincerely valued. Akaashi didn’t have a lot of experience when it came to dating and he certainly was still testing the waters with you. However, despite that, he was his happiest when he was with you.

You craved for love and affection and Keiji was willing to give you all and more.

He was happy to do simple things like calling you at night when he didn’t get to see you during the day or bringing you breakfast before your morning classes and walk with you to your class.

Today, it was him that had an early morning class and he was already rushing into it.

“Slow down, Keiji,” you told him, squeezing his hand.

He drew in a long breath as you two passed through a group of college students who all seemed to be rushing to their own classes, too. The whole campus just seemed busier than usual.

“Professor Daley’s pretty strict,” he explained, eyes searching through the rows of identical doors to find the lecture hall. Well, other than the strict professor himself, Akaashi also cared about his studies and he didn’t want to miss the important parts of today’s lecture or else he’d have a lot to catch up on again.

You cocked your head at him in curiosity. “What, is he like gonna give you guys shotgun recitations or something?”

“Not really, he’ll just embarrass you in front of the class,” he answered with a grin, stopping outside of the auditorium for his History class. “Hey, I gotta go. See you later?”

“Okay.” You offered a smile before sweetly kissing his cheek. “Catch you later.”

The lecture hall was almost full when he came inside so he had no other choice but to sit at the back along with the other students who barely gave a damn about going to class at all.

Keiji usually didn’t mind them, but the reason why he didn’t like sitting at the far back was because it was always the spot for hungover dudes who obviously went to parties the night prior or the slackers who liked to just borrow some notes and call it a day.

He ended up sitting next to an Asian guy who had a blond undercut and a white guy with bronze hair—both of which were sitting comfortably with one leg propped on the chair in front of them. Akaashi assumed they were jocks, but they could also probably be frat boys.

“Man, I’m never gonna drink Hennessy again,” he heard the blond guy whine to his friend. “I feel like throwing up.”

Yup. Frat boys.

Keiji decided to focus on Professor Daley’s lecture as he took out his iPad, searching through the notes that he wrote from last time. From what he remembered, the last lecture was about Asian-American Assimilation.

“Iwa’s fucking wasted last night,” the brown-haired guy brought up, followed by a cackle from the blond.

“Dude lost his mind. I told him I can just get him a new bitch, but he told me to fuck off. He still wants her so bad, man.”

The two guys shared loud sniggers much to Keiji’s annoyance.

He sent them a look of warning, only to let them know that someone was actually bothered by their unnecessarily loud chattering, but the blond guy strangely recognized him.

“Yo...” The blond guy’s eyes widened as he nudged his friend who gestured towards Akaashi. “You’re the guy that’s dating Y/N, right?”

Firstly, how did he know? And who the hell was this guy, anyway?

“Yeah,” Keiji answered curtly, uninterested with the conversation. “And you are?”

There was a huge grin on the blond guy’s face—it was the kind of grin that particularly looked like he was impressed. “Nice to meet you, bro. The name’s Yuuji Terushima,” the guy greeted, offering a hand out for a fistbump. “And this is my friend, Cole.”

All Akaashi gave them was a brief nod of acknowledgment because it was clearly not the best time to make new friends, however the Yuuji guy was so damn persistent in talking to him throughout the class.

“So, how long have you two been together?” Yuuji asked, seemingly entertained for some reason.

Technically, almost 2 months but jesus, why was this guy so interested with his girlfriend?

“That’s none of your business,” he dryly responded with a nonchalant face.

The Yuuji guy was quick to snort along with the other guy beside him named Cole. They looked like absolute tools and Keiji didn’t want to entertain them further.

“Chill,” Yuuji eased, raising his arms in surrender. “I’m just surprised that you’re dating her despite... you know.”

Despite what?

Akaashi looked at them in confusion. It was obvious that those two guys knew something he didn’t and his mind was telling him to know what it was but his heart was telling him he shouldn’t bother.

The most annoying thing was how these two guys were entertained for a reason he was yet to know about. What was so funny about dating you?

So for now, he let his mind win. “What do you mean?”

With his obliviousness, Yuuji and Cole looked genuinely shocked and amused at the same time. It was starting to piss Keiji off because he was looking like such a fool for not having any clue.

“Dude.” Yuuji leaned forward in intrigue before he spoke in a hushed voice, “She’s like one of the biggest sluts in the campus.”

His first reaction was to ball his hands into a fist, all while grabbing the guy’s collar for referring to you in such a way, but Yuuji was defensive about it.

“No, I’m not messing with you. Dude, see this,” he convinced as if he was the most innocent man in this planet. “Just wait a minute...”

Yuuji took out his phone and went through whatever the hell he was going through. Akaashi was surely about to punch the jackass if only they weren’t in class.

“Here, look.” Yuuji extended his arm and held his phone up, revealing a naked picture of you that you took in front of a mirror. The guy swiped his phone to show more of your nudes from different shots and angles, and there was even a quick video of you doing it with another guy.

What the actual fuck.

“These aren’t mine, by the way,” Yuuji clarified as if that helped at all, “But like, almost all sane guys in the frat house have a copy of these. We’ve all seen your girl, bro.”

Akaashi didn’t know how to react.

He simply stiffened while his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. He couldn’t believe what he just saw and he had no idea what to feel from it. It was so fucked up how his girlfriend and her body were all over other guys’ phones for their own pleasure. He couldn’t hide the anger that was building inside of him, but he was also disgusted at how he never knew all of this prior to dating you.

Keiji hasn’t even touched you, even a little bit, because he respected you and he believed that you weren’t the type of girl who slept around. He wasn’t the type of guy, either. Heck, he’d only been to a party once and it wasn’t really his scene.

And yet you...

You actually hid this from him. He could understand that you’d feel ashamed, but god fucking dammit, these guys were feasting on your body and calling you names—how could you still walk around without shame?

He was speechless.

“That’s fine, dude.” Yuuji gave him a pat on the back like he needed his consolation. “You know what you should do? You should fuck her like the whore she is and then dip.”

He huffed a breath filled with rage. “I think it’s fucked up that you’re spreading her nudes like a total dick.”

“Dude, not my fault your so-called girlfriend’s a whore,” Yuuji retorted which ultimately led Keiji to grab him by the shirt in fury.

“Mr. Terushima and Mr. Akaashi, what is going on back there?”

He didn’t really want to look away as he sent this blond guy a death stare because, frankly, at the rate of Keiji’s anger, Yuuji would get his face absolutely ruined if he tried to speak ill about you again.

He was going feral.

He couldn’t stomach the thought of his girlfriend, a girl he liked with all his heart, being labeled as the campus slut.

Suddenly, his whole outlook towards you had exponentially changed and he could no longer see you the same way again.

“What time is it?” you inquired to a very hungover Erica who had her head rested on the table while you two spent the past hour at the cafe.

She briefly checked her phone and answered, “It’s half past four in the afternoon, why?”

Nothing important. You were just wondering why Keiji hasn’t contacted you all day. Weird, because he only had two classes today and they were both during the morning. Usually at this time, he would have already been free.

You decided to slip in another text because you already missed him. He was probably really busy right now.

You: Hi, love. I’m here at the cafe with Erica while waiting for you. See me when you’re free :)

“Ugh,” Erica groaned, rubbing her temples. “My head hurts.”

You looked up from your phone after waiting for your boyfriend’s reply but there wasn’t any.

“How was the party last night?” you inquired in an effort to make some conversation.

Erica then propped her elbows on the table and lifted her head up. She just looked extremely hungover and you could easily tell with her smudged mascara. “It was alright,” she answered. “Not as fun without you, though.”

You hadn’t really been to parties as of late and it was the effect of being in a healthy relationship with your boyfriend. It was almost unreal how you managed to find a guy that respected and treated you like a real woman. Although your heart hasn’t fully healed, you were very grateful for Keiji’s efforts of sticking with you through thick and thin, completely putting every piece of you back together.

He was definitely someone worth pursuing, not jerks like Iwaizumi who did nothing but to play with your feelings.

Speaking of, you haven’t seen that guy around because you were purposely avoiding him. You knew which times he would be out and about in the campus so you often stayed at the dorms during those times.

Still, you were curious at how he was doing recently and it wasn’t wrong to ask, right?

“Was Hajime in there?” You cleared your throat, pretending to sound casual.

Erica could see through you though, which was why she sneered. “He’s crazy. I never see him drink that much alcohol.”

You silently wished he had alcohol poisoning but you chose to be the better person. “Sucks to be him.”

“True,” she agreed without hesitation. “Also, don’t you see it? I think Keiji kinda looks like Iwa. Just take off his glasses and turn him into a fuckboy.”

You scrunched your nose. “No, thank you. My Keiji is fine as is.”

As if on cue, you received a text message from the said guy.

Keiji: Can’t come

His reply was short and direct, not his usual sweet long ones. Akaashi was never a dry texter so this was a little odd to see.

You: Are you okay, my love? Do you want me to visit you?

You really hoped he was okay because you were starting to worry.

Keiji: Don’t bother. I’ll just see you tomorrow.

“What’s with the face?” Erica asked after noticing your downcast eyes.

You let out a sigh. “He looks busy right now. I don’t know, I’m worried.”

She watched your expression for a moment before speaking again, “Leave him be. He’s probably got tons of papers to write.”

“I guess he is...”

You didn’t get to see your boyfriend yesterday and even today, just like he said. You texted him this morning if he wanted to go eat lunch together but his only response was “I’m good.”

You could feel that something was wrong and you definitely had to confront him about it.

The coldness in his responses reminded you of the way Iwaizumi treated you before and it was leaving you hurt and paranoid. You didn’t know what you did wrong but you couldn’t just let Akaashi ignore you all day.

You were scared that you’ve given him a reason to walk away from you.

Despite the cold weather, you decided to wait outside the residence hall he was staying at in hopes of talking to him in person. You insisted to him that you weren’t going to leave until he sees you and that it didn’t matter how long you were going to wait if he was claiming to be ‘busy’. He obviously wasn’t, because no matter how busy he was, Keiji Akaashi always made time for you.

That was one of the many things you loved about him. He told you before that every second you spent with him was always valuable and important, which was why he was placing a lot of effort everytime you two spend time together.

“It’s nine in the evening,” you heard his voice as you looked up to see him approaching you with a frown. “Just go back to your dorm. We can talk tomorrow.”

You waited for 2 hours outside, just to see him, and this was what you get.

What was worse was how didn’t return any eye-contact with you.

“Keiji, what’s going on?” you spoke quietly, hurt evident from your tone. “Did I do something wrong?”

He simply lifted his shoulder in a half shrug, never looking at your eyes from behind his glasses. “No, I’m just busy.”

‘Busy’ always seemed to be a guy’s favorite excuse and you hated it. You hated how they think they could easily shrug off anything by saying they were busy even when they weren’t.

“There’s something wrong,” you insisted, holding onto his arm as an attempt to get him to look at you. “Tell me.”

He contemplated it when he finally did look at you, but the way he gazed at your face made it seem like he was almost disgusted. For what reason?

If you were being true to yourself, you knew that there was only one reason, however you refused to consider that it was exactly what you had in mind.

And yet, he did confirm your thoughts when he claimed, “I know what happened before and how you’re...”

You watched him trail off his words, unable to continue because it was visible to the naked eye that he was about to say something hurtful.

“What?” you egged on, feeling a growing ache in your chest. “What am I, Keiji?”

You knew where this conversation was going and you despised every minute that went into it.

His eyes momentarily found yours. “You know what you are.”

The way those words slipped off his mouth made you want to laugh and cry the pain off your heart. It didn’t help that your eyes already pooled of tears and you were trying your hardest not to succumb to your weak feelings.

“Tell me exactly what I am,” you commanded with a broken voice.

Keiji blew out his cheeks and looked at you blankly. “You know it’s fine to sleep around and all, but I just didn’t think you were that type of girl.”

In short, he wanted to call you a whore. He wanted to label you as one, albeit indirectly.

You had no idea how he found out and how much he knew but you were sure that he’d heard enough to make him act reluctant towards you.

You didn’t even have to hide how you were tremendously hurt at the fact that he chose to see you differently instead of clearing it up with you,

“I only slept with one guy.” Tears fell from your eyes. “One guy, Keiji. I did it because I loved him and he took me for granted. He made a complete fool out of me.”

He avoided your gaze in silence as he listened and he was clearly reconsidering his outlook towards you, but he just seemed so detached.

It hurt. It fucking hurt.

“Do you know how painful it is?” you asked, continuing your monologue while you were wrecking inside. “Every time I gave myself to him, it was all just a bet with his friends. Do you know how hurtful it is how I’m being played around like I didn’t have any feelings? I only ever gave myself to that one guy, but he made the whole world think that I’m nothing but a slut. That’s what you wanted to say, right? That I’m a slut and you’re embarrassed to be with me?”

With a slight shake of his head, he remained quiet while standing in a safe distance between you and him.

“Keiji.” You wept, wiping your eyes as you poured your heart out to him. “For the first time in my life, I felt that someone genuinely cared about me as a person and I can’t ever be thankful enough that I met you. You saved me from misery when I thought I was completely irredeemable for having the wrong choices in life. I thought I never would’ve known what being in relationship feels like and, fuck... I know it’s too early to say, but I love you, and I do mean it. My past isn’t something I can change and I most definitely can’t change how people see me, but you, all I care about is you. I don’t want us to change.”

Those words came straight from your heart and it was painful that you had to tell it to him at this specific instance. You were at a completely vulnerable state in front of him and you were hoping that he could at least look at you to see how sincere you were.

But he still refused to see your eyes and give you the comfort you wanted.

“I-I don’t know,” he hesitated. “I’m sorry. I need some space to think about all of this.”

“Don’t do this, please,” you begged, tightening your grip on his arm but he shrugged your hands off him and looked at you apologetically.

Each step back he took was piercing you straight to your soul. “I’m sorry. Let’s talk some time soon.”

And with that, he left you alone with a sore heart and a broken pride, once again reminding you that no guy in this world could ever learn to love you the way you want them to.

Being rejected by Akaashi hurt a hundred times worse than Iwaizumi because with Iwa, you could blame it on his fuckboy personality and say that you deserve better. But with Keiji, someone who was naturally kind and loving, you felt like you lost something so precious.

You spent the past few days crying in your room, refusing to take care of yourself, or attend some of your classes because you just felt broken yet again. Your roommate even became worried about you at one point and offered if she could do anything to help you out.

Her offer was very much appreciated, but there was nothing you could really do unless you travel through time and rewrite your past. It was crazy to think how your actions could greatly affect your future.

You absolutely detested the fact that Hajime could walk around the campus unharmed while you were being viewed as his resident whore for simply giving yourself to him.

Life was unfair, truly.

Now you lost the chance of being with the most perfect guy you’ve ever met, all because you were wronged by this other guy in the past.

“Cheer up.” Erica rubbed your back, walking with you to your next class. “How long has it been since you and Keiji last talked?”

“‘Bout a week,” you whispered with lethargic emotions. “Is this considered a break up? Because I’m gonna lose my mind if it is—”

“I don’t think it is,” she quickly reassured. “Look, maybe he just really needs some time. I mean, he probably was really surprised.”

Who wouldn’t be? Imagine your girlfriend being talked about everywhere you go and they weren’t exactly rumors that sounded pleasing to the ears.

However, you were allowed to miss him, too. You missed him so much that you couldn’t think straight because all you had in mind was the thought of him.

Erica gave you a look of sympathy. “I’m sure he’ll talk to you soon.”

“Hey, hey. Look who’s here.”

You looked up to see Yuuji, Zach, and Cole (aka Iwaizumi’s bastard friends) circling around you and Erica in front of the Arts building. The smiles on their faces made them appear like total douches and you wanted to sucker-punch each of them in their stupid faces.

“Lay off, ugly,” Erica seethed towards Yuuji.

The blond guy, however, was focused on you. “Hey, Iwa wants you back.”

Zach snorted followed by a snide remark from Cole. “Just let him fuck you already. He’s outta his mind.”

You stood in fury as you looked at the three, but it was Erica who decided to defend you.

“Leave her alone, assholes.” Pushing each of them by the chest while they remained unfazed and even more entertained. “She has a boyfriend.”

Strangely, Yuuji let out a cackle after hearing it. “Oh, right. Akaashi, was it? I think he enjoyed seeing your sex tape,” the guy scornfully mocked.

You stood paralyzed with your heart in your mouth.

Was this the reason why Keiji no longer wanted to do anything with you?

You thought he just heard rumors, not actual ‘evidences’ of you doing the act and now you understood why he was acting that way.

Before you knew it, you already threw a hard slap across Yuuji’s face, shaking in anger and frustration. The guy was shocked but he also found it cruelly entertaining. Him and his friends all found your life amusing because you were just a game to them.

“You guys have such loud mouths,” you snarled with your balled fists. “Your dicks aren’t even big enough to satisfy girls!”

You yelled it out of anger that the passerby who heard it seemed to have found it funny.

But you weren’t done yet, you had to say one more thing:

“Tell Iwa he can go fuck himself in hell.”

It was sickening and all the more frustrating how your reputation ruined your chances of being treated fairly.

You were seen as a promiscuous person—someone who would fuck anyone on her way and only cared about going to parties or getting banged by these fuckboys all day and night. You didn’t expect that it would turn out like this because when you first had your casual relationship with Iwaizumi, you two were very lowkey and only hooked up on the low.

Shit spread like wildfire and now everyone has seen you naked and it was probably why no one could ever respect you.

Only Keiji ever did, and now you lost him.

What was the point, really, to still act like you were going to have your desired relationship?

If your image was far tainted to be saved, might as well just stick by it and act exactly what they think of you.

Besides, with Akaashi giving up on you, you no longer believed that there was any other guy that could fix you the way he almost did.

Yes, you were back to square one. You were back to being the girl who spent her Friday nights in frat basements. You were back to the old you that could never be erased no matter how much you tried.

You didn’t even receive a single text or call from Akaashi despite reaching out to him and it gave you the sole realization that it was over. He already ghosted you.

Funny, you painfully laughed as you drank from your red cup while mindlessly dancing to the loud music. Your mind was in that party, but your heart wanted to stay with Keiji.

“You didn’t have to come here, you know.” Erica tried to snatch the red cup from your hand but you were quick to dodge her. “Come on, you’re drunk already.”

You smiled, even with pain in your eyes, at the feeling of being constantly hurt and mistreated.

“So, what...” you slurred, eyes following the dancing lights. You wondered if Keiji missed you at all.

“Y/N,” Erica pleaded, looking absolutely hopeless at trying to stop you from drinking. Since you were playing stubborn, she exhaled in exasperation and left. “I’ll be back, just stay here.”

You didn’t respond. You simply continued swaying your body freely as Right Thurr played on the background.

It was so quick, just as you expected, until you felt someone sneaking their arms around your waist.

However, it was the familiar wood sage and sea salt scent that caught you off guard.

“You’re back,” Iwaizumi breathed on your ear with his hands on your hips, clearly wasted. “I knew you’d always come back.”

You scoffed, turning around to push him away. “Fuck off.”

There was a stupid grin present on his face. “This is where you belong, baby,” he said, pulling you back to his chest. “This is your world.”

You swallowed the bile forming on your throat and refused to believe his words. This was no longer the world you wanted. You wanted to be in Keiji’s arms. You wanted to spend the night sitting next to him at a cafe while he pulled all-nighters to write his articles. You wanted to talk about things that you two liked, his favorite movies, his favorite artists, and everything else.

You wanted to be with him, not here, with the person that ruined your life.

“You’re mine,” Iwaizumi claimed as if he was reminding you of this very fact. “You’ll always be mine.”

“You make me sick,” you scowled at him. “I’m never going back to a bitch boy like you.”

Even from the faint light, you could see that Iwaizumi’s eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were dilated. He wasn’t just drunk, he was high.

Whether it was from weed or some other shit, he was certainly not going to remember this night when he wakes up the next morning.

“Why you playin’ hard to get?” he sneered, biting his lip in amusement. “You’re just gonna end up whoring yourself to me, anyway.”

His words stung and they sure crumpled your heart into pieces, even when he was under the influence of drugs, it was no excuse. Hard to believe that you were once in love with this guy, but now all you wanted to do was to spit on his face.

“Get off me, you fucking dick.” You pushed him off again before slapping his cheek harder than you did with Terushima. “You’re toxic as hell. I don’t ever wanna see your face!”

And before he could even reach for you again, your feet already carried you away from the basement.

You hastily walked away, squeezing through the sweaty bodies that littered the whole damn place, and ended up colliding against a lean figure.

“Keiji...”

He was looking at you with wide eyes that were full of worry and concern. “Hey, Erica called me and said you were drunk and I got worried—”

It was possibly the alcohol along with your already broken heart that made you tear up at the sight of this man in front of you.

You thought you’d already seen the last of him and that he no longer wanted to do anything with you but here he was, worried sick about you. The fact that he came after you in the middle of the night just to make sure you were okay absolutely crushed your feeble heart.

“Keiji,” you sobbed into his chest, hugging him tight and never letting go.

His breathing was deep but steady. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you, I wasn’t thinking straight.” When he pulled away, he cupped your face and wiped your tears. “Let’s get you home for now?”

You were still weeping when you came to your dorm that night, not because of the pain, but because you were overwhelmingly happy that Akaashi went back to you.

It was a bit embarrassing for him to see you like this—drunk, brokenhearted, and dressed like a ‘hooker’ as Iwaizumi described it. However, unlike before, Akaashi didn’t seem to be bothered anymore. In fact, he was doing all efforts to take care of your drunken self instead of judging you for it.

“Arms up,” he softly ordered, pulling the tight dress off your body leaving you in your underwear on. Even with the amount of skin he could see from you, he respected you enough not to touch you in places and take advantage while you were drunk. “Wear this.”

He slipped an oversized hoodie over your head that you realized belonged to him. It was cozy to wear and you felt comfortable laying in your bed despite your dizziness from the alcohol. Keiji later sat beside you and rubbed your back to soothe you.

“Feel better?” he asked, moving a hand to caress your cheek.

You nodded, feeling another rush of tears. Yes, you were a fucking crybaby because he was so sweet and you never experienced this from anyone before.

Usually, your Friday nights would end up in bed doing fuck-knows-what with Iwaizumi. The guy barely cared about you other than to fulfill his needs.

But right now, with your caring boyfriend by your side, you realized that this was possible. That your nights could end up being absolutely wholesome even when only the two of you were at your dorm and no one else could interrupt.

This was because Keiji was a real man, not a fuckboy.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, holding your hand in his. “I was a jerk to you and I’ll never forgive myself for it. It just got into my head how those guys spoke about you and I let my anger and pride win me over instead of talking things with you. I was stupid, but then I realized it wasn’t your fault,” he paused, meeting your shiny eyes. “You simply fell in love for that guy who didn’t respect you enough but I.... I’m here now. I’ll care for you and treat you like you deserve.”

You rubbed your damp eyes against the back of your hand. “I-I thought you hated me.”

“Never,” he immediately corrected. “I’d never hate on you. I don’t care what the others think—they can all say what they wanna say, but they can’t change my mind because I care about you. I want you happy, I want you smiling—all this because I love you and I can never give up on you over trivial things. You’re worth more than that.”

Your chest tightened, but only because it felt full. This man right here, came to you at your lowest point in life, and he was trying his best to fix you.

“Listen,” he lifted your chin up so you could look at his honest eyes. “From now on, I don’t care about your past or who you’ve been with or what you’ve done. I’ll only care about who you are when you’re with me. Just us. I’ll defend you from anyone and I’ll always see the best in you no matter what the others say. They don’t know you as much as I do. This is something I can promise you as your boyfriend.”

You scooted closer to hug him tight, grateful for the love he was giving you and for the happiness he brought you. They said it was rare to find your true love in college where almost everyone were just casually looking around for hookups.

Well, it was rare indeed, but you were part of the minority who hit jackpot when it came to finding the right guy would treat you the way you deserved.

“I love you, Keiji.” You pulled away and pressed your forehead against his.

“I love you,” he replied before placing his warm lips above yours.

You’ve had prior experiences, probably way more than he did, but this kiss was truly something else. It was your first kiss as a couple and it was sweet, gentle, and full of love.

A few months ago, you would have never thought that Keiji Akaashi would be the remedy to your broken heart, but now you were lucky to be sharing this intimate moment with him.

Your life was no longer just a game, but a book that he’d write on with fond memories and joyful experiences, because it was what you deserved and what he wanted to give.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

general taglist: @x-cloudyyyy @iwazubean @elianetsantana @cottonheadedninnymugggins @centvry @kageyamakock @sunnsettee @littlenymphia700 @tsukkisfatsimp @cuddlesslut @mysteriousparker @asdfghjkl7things @oikawashand @02hhsailor @anejuuuuoy @minswags-posts @chemnerdkuroo @misssugarless @deeznutss @tanakax123 @oikawa-bubs @lust4keiji

#akaashi keiji #keiji akaashi #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi angst #akaashi oneshot #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi angst #akaashi fic

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gender-i-hardly-know-er · 2 years

Text

a very logan way of loving

aka duck learned what a vulcan kiss is and immediately melted and had to write it

I might do this with some other sides, but have some pre-romantic analogical for rn

disclaimer- I know next to nothing about star trek so like,, don’t come for me lmao

ao3 link

Logan sat, relaxed on the couch, the only light in the room emanating from the television. He had woken up in the middle of the night, and was having troubles falling back to sleep. By 3AM, he resigned himself to his sleepless fate and switched on the TV. At least he could spend some time alone, watching what he wanted to. That was a rare occurrence- the only person he knew of that shared his affinity for science-fiction was Virgil, who never woke early enough to get to the TV before Patton or Roman- he was almost always overruled. But here, in the calm of the living room late at night, he could indulge in his passions in peace. He was deep into an episode of Star Trek- a show not even Virgil watched with him (he was a Doctor Who kind of guy, so they always watched that).

He looked on as the episode progressed, attention nowhere outside of the plot- he loved all the characters on the Starship; he was invested. He reached a point where two characters touched the top knuckles of their middle and index fingers, forming a triangle of sorts. A vulcan kiss.

Now, Logan wasn’t sentimental. He didn't care much about symbols of love, or excessive physical affection. But this? He loved this. A simple finger touch, inconspicuous, easy, small, but holding so much meaning. So much admiration. It was beautiful. It wasn’t really a kiss, not how humans think of it. It was more like… holding hands. It showed immense comfort and familiarity with one another, like a couple that had been together for years.

He shook his head and drew his attention back to the plot, cursing the grossly overemotional images filling his mind. Taking another glance at the clock and seeing that he’d reached 6AM, he got up to eat some breakfast. Might as well start the day now, he supposed.

His effort was soon abandoned upon hearing a crashing sound; he glanced to where it had come from- over by the stairs- and found a bleary eyed Virgil cursing under his breath.

“Virge? Are you okay? You’re awake unusually early-” Logan started, reaching a hand out to help his friend up.

“Late. I’m up late,” Virgil cut him off with a correction. “And I don't want a lecture, okay? I know it’s not healthy, and I didn't do it on purpose.” His grimace was evidence to this claim, punctuating his explanation with a glare as he took Logan’s outstretched hand and pulled himself up.

Logan took a moment to look over Virgil’s face, noting the extra heavy eyeshadow- he could’ve sworn there were tear tracks through it- and red, puffy eyes. “I suppose I cannot judge you this time. I’ve barely slept tonight.”

Virgil glanced over Logan’s shoulder at the dull light of the TV. “I’m sorry, what? You. The one that’s all strict about schedules and shit, you stayed up till six watching television?” His gaze fell back on Logan with a barely-there smile, “You hypocritical bitch!”

Virgil walked over to the TV before Logan could defend himself, rolling his eyes, “And you’re watching Star Trek? Dork alert, dude.”

Logan chose to sit back on the couch with his breakfast, coffee fogging up his glasses, rather than remark on Virgil's many behaviors that could be described as "dorky.". Virgil plopped down next to him on the armrest, his legs sprawled out over Logan’s lap.

Virgil grabbed the remote off the coffee table and checked how much longer the current episode would go on. He found that it was almost over, so he asked, “Can we change it to Doctor Who when this one’s over? I don't get this show, plus I really wanna get through the rest of this season. I know you’ve already seen it, but I’m super behind.”

Logan nodded and took the remote. “That sounds fine. I think you’ll really like the next one, ‘The Rings of Akhaten’. I know you enjoy the Doctor’s angry speeches,” he smiled as much as his tired face muscles would allow him to, watching the credits begin to scroll by on the TV.

“Hell yeah, Matt Smith’s hot when he’s mad,” Virgil relaxed in his spot on the armrest, leaning his arm on Logan’s head. Logan elected to ignore both Virgil’s many comparisons between him and Matt Smith’s Doctor, and his tendency to stare at Logan during the logical side’s ever more frequent outbursts (with much less annoyance and contempt than he showed for the others).

They watched the episode together and made what Virgil like to call “clever commentary”- it was really just making jokes and calling the characters stupid when they did dumb things. Virgil had ended up in Logan’s lap, his legs out long over the couch. One of his arms was wrapped around Logan’s back- Logan was thankful for the low light concealing his ever-reddening face. He found himself absentmindedly fiddling with Virgil’s fingers as the episode went on.

He pushed Virgil’s middle and index fingers up together, placing his own on top in a triangle. As he stared at the screen, it took Logan a while to notice what position he’d put their hands in, and even once he did, he made no move to change it. Virgil didn't know what it meant, but Logan did. Logan knew how much meaning the simple gesture held, but Virgil didn't know or care about Vulcan culture. This was the closest Logan could be to him without having to talk about his feelings, and that was good enough for him.

Who needs human kisses when you have Vulcan ones, right?

#sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #this was fun and funky

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years

Note

I absolutely love your writing!! It's so very enjoyable and your au's are absolutely delightful. I just thought you should know.

Thank you so much, Nonnie! AUs are something I really enjoy and to hear that others find them fun makes me so very happy. As a little thank you, here’s another AU feat Kaer Morhen Radio and a Jaskier driving an 18 wheeler.

Life was a lonely one on the road. There were many acquaintances and other drivers Jaskier had a passing friendship with, Valdo Marx had the annoying habit of having similar routes to him - they did say mimicry was the highest form of compliment. Alas, nobody was a steady presence in Jaskier’s life. Well, nobody who was aware of him. Though there was the Kaer Morhen Radio family. They were the closest Jaskier had to everyday friends, as sad as that sounded.

“Good morning fuckheads.” Such a declaration could only mean it was 6am and Lambert had taken over. Instinctively, Jaskier was smiling as he sat up with a yawn. Most radio stations liked to gently rouse listeners with swelling music that got more up beat as the day went on. Not Kaer Morhen Radio. They had Lambert as their morning DJ, there to wake sensitive ears in more and more creative ways. He had become known for his unique way to wake listeners up; from bringing in pots to bang to trying to imitate the mating call of a moose at full volume. The only thing listeners loved more than Lambert being a general prick was his flirtation with Aiden who did weather and traffic announcements.

“And, in those four famous words: and now, the weather,” Lambert announced gleefully. After a long moment of silence, he snickered. “We shall have to give Aiden a moment to climb out from under the desk and rinse his mouth. In the mean time, here’s a banger.”

The banger, Jaskier was surprised to find, was quite literally a recording of someone (possibly Lambert) attempting to play drums (badly) on some kitchen pots. By the time the piece reached its rather boisterous end, it seemed that Aiden was no longer preoccupied.

“The weather today-” Jaskier tuned Aiden’s words out in favour of figuring out whether he was messing around or whether he really did sound so husky and gravelly thanks to having his throat fucked. It was quite the conundrum and Jaskier spent the start of his morning drive wondering how many complaints Lambert and Aiden will get now. Their record was 36 for the game of “identify that noise” wherein they stuck their fingers in various containers and made them squelch. To that day, nobody knew whether the last one really was, in Lambert’s words, “Aiden’s well used hole and my come”.

Afternoons were much more peaceful. Eskel took over at 2pm and he was laid back, played soothing music and gave the impression of being a very calm and reliable member of society. Jaskier always maintained it was an impression because, among all the chat, Eskel would sometimes drop a strange little fact that made him do a double take or two.

“This next song,” Eskel had once said, “was written while under the influence of cocaine.” It was a reasonable enough fact to share, Jaskier had been listening while stuck in a traffic jam along a motorway. “How they managed to write it though, I have no idea. Cocaine is terrible for your focus, I could barely scratch an itch before being distracted by something else. So kudos to the writers for creating a whole song while off their face.”

Which was something Jaskier had never thought Eskel would know anything about. He always seemed to demure, the solid rock of Kaer Morhen Radio. He balanced out Yennefer’s news updates perfectly. It was probably why Jaskier liked him so much, now that he thought of it. The surface innocence mixed in with hints of a very colourful life lived beneath the steady exterior. Well, hints other than the incident where Eskel somehow managed to not turn his microphone off and had a conversation about going to a rave with someone who worked at the radio station. Nobody knew the man’s name and his answers were half muffled but listeners swore they heard him suggest something along the lines of a collar and leash - which Eskel had hummed in agreement to, sounding all too happy. When questioned, Eskel resolutely refused to name the mystery man but conceded that there had been a rave. Jury was out whether Eskel had grumbled about being ‘in ecstasy’ or ‘on ecstasy’ for it. And there was definitely a picture of floating around the internet of him in a collar at what definitely looked like an underground rave.

The real reason Jaskier listened to Kaer Morhen Radio was the late night DJ. 10pm on the dot, Eskel would flick the switch and a prerecorded intro played, announcing that it was Late Late Nights with Geralt. Between 10pm and 6am, Geralt manned the station. The only reason Jaskier knew his name was because of the intro. Otherwise the man was silent other than a few hums between songs. Sometimes, presumably when he knocked something over, there would be a growled “fuck” that listeners lived for.

As little as Geralt said, Jaskier was in love. The music was eclectic and death metal could be followed up by electro swing or grime. There was to way to predict just what Geralt would play next, he didn’t take requests, didn’t talk to his listeners. But, somehow, he still drew them in. Jaskier had made the mistake of looking Geralt up online and swooned a little at the few pictures available. It seemed Geralt was an elusive man, somehow managing to turn away from cameras with an uncanny ability. Though a few pictures did exist of Lambert and Eskel on either side of him, quite literally holding him down for a photo.

Truthfully, Geralt was one of the main reasons Jaskier chose to do overnight hauls. Not only did they pay better, he also had Geralt’s nonverbal grunts and hmms to look forward to. He was well aware that it was an infatuation and nothing more. He’d never met Geralt before, Geralt wasn’t even aware of his existence. So, really, Jaskier could daydream all he wanted but had no intention of doing anything more.

Except, Jaskier couldn’t help but wonder. Geralt had such range in his musical taste, maybe he would like what Jaskier wrote. It was a rare night off and Jaskier was well into the bottle with Valdo when they got talking, egging each other on about who was the better musician. It ended with Jaskier drunkenly posting a CD of his music to Kaer Morhen Radio, addressed for Geralt. When he woke up in the morning, on the floor next to his couch which was occupied by Valdo, Jaskier groaned.

Thankfully, there was never a mention or even a single note of his music in the next week. Slowly, Jaskier relaxed, only a little disappointed that his music hadn’t even been acknowledged by Geralt. He almost had a heart attack when eight days later, Lambert came on air with a mad cackle.

“Morning fuckheads!” Lambert sounded more cheery than ever before. “You’ll never guess what I found. Geralt has been hoarding new music. Good music. Said it was for him. Well, I have decided he cannot hold this back from us. If you’re listening, Jaskier, your note was hilarious. I hope your hangover was worth it. Thanks for the CD!”

There was a growl that sounded like Geralt storming into the booth but the microphone was cut and Jaskier’s song started playing. Jaskier almost crashed his truck in shock. Especially when Lambert declared it so good, they would play it again and, sure enough, the song went back to the beginning to play twice in a row.

If it had just been Lambert, Jaskier would have quietly died of shame, accepting that he was being mocked. But Eskel got in on it too. That afternoon he introduced Jaskier’s song with the promise that management were looking into getting in touch with him about the music. Even worse, a listener even requested the song later that evening. Jaskier was both in heaven and hell at the same time. That night, Geralt didn’t play his song and Jaskier was only a little disappointed.

His phone rang the next day.

“Good afternoon, my name is Vesemir, I’m calling from Kaer Morhen Radio. May I speak to Jaskier?”

Jaskier promptly choked. He got an invitation to the studio. It was a good seven days of driving away and Jaskier searched for a contract that would take him across the continent. While he drove, he got a bit braver and started e-mailing the radio station on his breaks.

His written request for songs were acknowledged by a hum and the song coming on next. When he asked Geralt for a shout out, he got obnoxious pop music playing instead. So Jaskier asked for two hums if Geralt wanted to meet and three if he didn’t. Thus, there was a “fuck” on air and the Beauty and the Beast theme song started playing. It was safe to say Jaskier didn’t understand it but he wasn’t deterred.

By the time Jaskier got into town and made his delivery, it was almost 6am. There was no time he had been specifically invited for and he ended up approaching the building at the same time Lambert showed up with Aiden and three large cups of coffee in hand.

“Excuse me,” he called out, “I’m here to see Vesemir.”

“Bit early for that.”

“He never gave me a time so I figured an early start would be appreciated.” It wasn’t exactly a lie but Jaskier kind of wanted to meet Geralt who would be finishing up soon.

For some bizarre reason, Jaskier was led into the radio studio, no questions asked. Surely it was a security issue but then again, Jaskier checked out Lambert and Aiden, they would no doubt be able to handle any issues. Then there was Geralt, stepping out of the booth, Lambert’s intro queued up. He froze when he spotted Jaskier and, curiously, glanced away, seemingly all shy. The curious response was explained away all too soon. There, on the wall, was Jaskier’s CD and a polaroid of him and Valdo, helpfully labeled “The Talent” with an arrow to Jaskier and “The Fake” pointing at Valdo.

“You here for Vesemir?” Geralt asked eventually, sipping at one of the cups Lambert had brought.

“Amongst other things,” Jaskier replied.

“He won’t be here until 10. Why don’t we go grab breakfast while you wait?”

Aiden wolf whistled at that and Lambert whooped, arms in the air.

“My dear fuckheads,” he purred into the microphone, “we have a date between our local cryptid and our mystery siren. Please wish them luck.”

It turned out that, in person, Geralt was a bit more talkative than on air. And Jaskier helped fill any silence without any problems. He ended up being later than planned to meet Vesemir and Tissaia who had a very handsome cheque for him for playing his music and also his phone number with the promise of passing it on to some connections who had expressed an interest in his music.

Never before had Jaskier thought he would thank Valdo Marx for anything. But, one drinking session with him had landed Jaskier with not only a contract with a record label but also a boyfriend. With his first pay, Jaskier send Valdo the biggest bouquet of flowers humanly possible.

#geraskier #laiden #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #aiden #eskel #radio au #long post #tldr: jaskier drives a truck while geralt is a dj

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getitinbusan · 4 years

Text

Finger Bang!

Jeongguk Smut

More than pleased with himself, Jeongguk stared at how wet the bed was.

Quickly undoing his pants he knew he could pull another orgasm out of you while you were still blissed out. He brushed the damp hair off your cheek and kissed it.

"I don't think I'm ever going to get used to seeing that."

It had been a few weeks since this new talent revealed itself and he was determined to perfect the craft.

If he curled his fingers just right, and dragged them in and out at a steady pace, he could make you squirt like a soup dumpling.

"So fucking wet, I can't believe how much your pussy loves my fingers."

So while you lay in the aftermath, mind blank, muscles limp, he'd hop on and fuck you the rest of the way into oblivion replacing your fluids with his.

Walking through the airport you grabbed hold of him. Instead of taking his whole hand, you gripped your two favorite fingers and gave them a tight teasing squeeze.

"You really like those huh?"

"I thought it was obvious?"

Pressing his digits up to your lips you kissed them softly.

"I'm going to miss them this week, do you really have to go?"

"You're not going to miss me? Just my fingers?" He laughed, "You know you've got your own right?"

"Not the same Guk. I love you, you'd better hurry back."

The day before he was scheduled to return he messaged you.

JK: I can't wait to see you tomorrow, I have a surprise.

Y/N: I thought we were going to FaceTime tonight? I miss your smile Guk-ah."

Y/N: But what's the surprise!!??

JK: You're gonna have to be patient 💜 We get in at 7am, stay in bed, I'll meet you there 😏

The alarm went off at 6am, that would give you just enough time.

Peeling off his old ripped t-shirt you got up to shower and shave.

Putting clean sheets on the bed you tucked yourself back in just as the key turned in the lock.

You heard the sound of his duffel bag drop on the floor, followed by shoes, then clothes as his bare feet pattered towards the bed.

"I know you're not sleeping, I can see you smiling."

You laughed as he lifted the covers and crawled on top of you. "You'd better get over here and kiss me Jeongguk."

His lips announced his homecoming as they connected with yours. His hand drew through your hair and caressed your cheek.

You pulled back at the strange sensation. "What's this? Why are you wearing a glove? Jeongguk are you hurt?!"

He rolled onto his back and held his gloved hand up. "This is my surprise!"

You looked at him puzzled, "I don't get it."

Sliding the fabric off his hand he slowly revealed his newly inked fingers, the inflamed writing spelled out ARMY across his knuckles.

"Oh my God, thats so fucking hot!"

He smiled at your praise. "You really like it? I can't wait for the fans to see how much I love them."

You crawled on top of him, "When are you gonna show me how much you love me?"

You ground yourself onto his hardening cock, "I need you to make me cum."

"Yeah? you need my fingers inside you baby?"

"Please Kookie, I've been a good girl waiting for you."

"Fuck, I love when you talk like that."

He lowered his hand to your entrance, his fingers finding you wet in anticipation. Dipping his index inside you he hissed.

His eyes grew big and apologetic, "shit...shit, I'm sorry. I'll be right back."

He got out of bed and walked to the washroom. You could hear him running the faucet. The light flicked back off and he stood beside the bed.

"You're gonna be mad."

"Jeongguk, what's going on? I've missed you, why the hell aren't you fucking me right now?"

He grabbed the discarded glove from the bed and slipped it back over his hand.

Realization hit you, "Oh for fucks sakes Jeon. How long till they heal?"

His head dropped,"Three weeks.."

The sex was good but… it was no squirting orgasm.

It had been a week and a half plus the week he'd been gone. He felt bad.

Jeongguk loved to please you and even though you didn't complain he knew he could be giving you so much more.

He walked into the living room where you lay on the couch and made a show of dropping his book loudly onto the coffee table.

You picked it up and read the title,

"Tantric Alchemy and Amrita: The Sacred Nectar of a good woman"

"Have you given up Overwatch for feminist studies?"

He took it out of your hand and stretched out beside you.

He flipped it open, "It says when a woman squirts, its a holy experience for her."

You couldn't stop laughing at how serious he was.

"You've made me scream OH GOD on multiple occasions, im not sure why you needed a book to tell you that."

"Don't make fun of me," he pouted. "I know you really like it when I make you squirt and I just want to understand so I can do it better."

You held up his hand and looked at the Tattoos, "How much longer?"

"Three more days baby, we're almost there. Wanna see what else I learned?"

He flipped to the bookmarked page and read it to you.

"Tantric Kissing brings your makeout sessions to totally new, electric, and elevated levels. It allows you to experience flowing orgasmic energy with outrageous passion between you and your kissing partner." He wiggled his brow and grinned.

Your panties were already wet.

"Jeongguk," you rubbed against him, "I'm more of a hands on learner. Why dont you teach me about it?"

You woke up in a great mood. Today was THE day!

Jeongguk had left bright and early for rehearsal so you wouldn't see him until after the show tonight.

Trying to distract yourself all day, your house had never been this clean. The anticipation building inside you was manifesting in your creamed panties.

Y/N: Guk I'm gonna die...I cant wait any longer.

JK: Don't you dare touch yourself!

Y/N: You'd better take care of me

JK: I've got you baby girl.

JK: I changed the ending of Boy with Luv just for you...💜

Y/N: ?? Cant wait, see you soon.

He was a tease. Standing in the front row with your legs clamped together he danced for you.

Lifting his shirt, thrusting his hips, rolling his body, his hand falling conveniently over his cock. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Almost at the finish line, you couldn't wait to get him home. The familiar ohs of Boy With Luv began and you watched as he flirted with you. You didn't want to wait, you wanted to be in the car already, getaway style.

End...end...come on end...Boy with Luv…

He looked over his shoulder directly at you and raised your two favorite fingers in the air. Holding the pose he winked and motioned with his head for you to get backstage.

"Fucking finger guns Jeongguk? Do you want me to wet myself in public?"

Not saying a word he grinned as he pulled you into a nearby green room and locked the door behind him.

He backed you up animalisticly like you were prey until your legs found the edge of the couch.

"Guk..."

He put his tattooed finger over you lips.

You lay back on the couch as he knelt on the floor in front of you.

Lifting your skirt he shook his head, "you haven't been wearing panties all night?"

You smiled sweetly and shrugged.

Spreading you wide he went knuckle deep and pulled back out. "So fucking wet," he licked his finger.

"Guk please, don't tease me anymore." Begging him, you were desperate to get off.

He pushed his fingers into you and layed himself onto your chest. As his fingers stroked your sweet spot he whispered in your ear.

"Remember the other day when we kissed for hours?"

You couldn't form sentences so you moaned in acknowledgment.

"How it felt like nothing else existed but us?"

He lifted your leg to hit a deeper angle.

"I want to give you that all the time."

His lips moved warm and slow, his tongue dancing in your mouth as fireworks went off behind your eyes. His fingers, covered in cream were snuggly inside you, pressing, rubbing into a euphoric trance. He had you dizzy.

His tongue swiped across your bottom lip, "can you cum for me?"

You knew he was speaking but your brain couldn't decipher what the words were.

As your hips involuntarily rose to press into his palm he increased his speed. Your legs were trembling and he knew it was imminant. Moving to the side he watched as pleasure took over and you released your cum onto the couch and the floor.

"Thats my girl."

Your head was reeling as you tried to regain your strength. He held out his hand to help you up.

"Aren't you going to finish?"

He pulled you into a hug, "Nope. I learnt a few things from my book, it's going to be a long night."

He opened the door just as Jimin was walking by. Eyeing you both suspiciously up and down he looked into the room. "Is everything okay? Why are you wet.. why's the floor wet?"

Jungkook shrugged, "Sometimes we have waterfights."

#Jeongguk smut #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook smut #kookie #guk #nochu

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fellulahh · 3 years

Text

The Point of No Return - Part 5/???, Diavolo x MC x Lucifer

Read Parts 1-4 here!

—

“Are you going to tell me off for falling asleep here too?” She mumbled, not opening her eyes.

Knowing she couldn’t see him, Lucifer smirked to himself. “No, MC.” He breathed. “I won’t tell you off.”

—

MC remained in Lucifer’s study that night after he’d left her to sleep. Her slumber was uninterrupted until the fire burnt out and the room began to turn cold.

As the warmth began to leave her body, she shifted in her seat before her sleepy eyes opened. A small groan escaped her lips as she prepared to carry her body up to her own bed. But as she snuggled one last time into the blanket, she smiled to herself after remembering who had laid it on her.

She felt a small sense of achievement having managed to get Lucifer to break that cold demeanour he’d had.

Despite how sharp he could be around her, Lucifer still had the kindness to make sure MC was comfortable before he left her.

Just the thought of Lucifer showing that rare soft side made MC cheeks grow warm. But, with the room now being pitch black and MC about to freeze to death, she pushed herself out of the armchair and slowly attempted to find the door.

The walk back to her bedroom was a rushed one. Despite knowing and trusting all of the demons that lived within the House of Lamentation, MC couldn’t help but feel nervous as she paced through the ancient, colossal mansion.

But thankfully, it wasn’t long before she found her room and tucked herself into the warm bed after treading through the darkness. As she snuggled up once more into the covers, she closed her eyes again ready to fall back into a slumber.

However, much to MC’s surprise, something shifted on the bed next to her.

“There ya are! I was waitin’ ages for you to come up. Where have ya been?!” Mammon asked from behind MC.

“Jesus Christ, Mammon!” MC seethed.

—

With it being bright and early in Devildom, Lucifer made his way through the house with his usual 6am cup of coffee. He let out a deep breath as he prepared himself for yet another busy day of his usual work.

However, this particular morning was slightly different because ever since waking up, Lucifer had a question on his mind.

Would MC still be there?

Lucifer hoped that he’d see the human still asleep in the chair he’d left her in. In fact, he made sure to rush his breakfast on the off chance that MC could awake and leave his study by the time he’d eaten.

However, as he strode down the hallway toward the door and turned the corner, his face fell when he was met with an empty room.

Stood still in the doorway, he stared sombrely at the chair MC slept him before letting out a small ‘hm’. And then, the human left his mind along with his silly hopes of seeing her as he made his way toward his desk.

His morning went as it usually did: making his way through stacks after stack of paperwork with the occasional interruption from one of the brothers as they got into their shenanigans.

But as the time drew closer to lunch, Lucifer was startled when he heard a knock at the door. Nobody in the house respected him enough to knock before entering; even MC occasionally barged her way into the room.

Confused by who may be on the other side of the door, Lucifer put down his pen.

“Who is it?” He questioned with furrowed eyebrows.

Watching the door handle turn, Lucifer quickly stood after seeing Diavolo enter the room.

“My Lord.” He breathed, “I hadn’t realised you were coming, I would have come to the door for you.”

“Worry not, Lucifer.” The Prince chuckled as he stepped closer to the brother, “Asmodeus let me in.”

Still startled by the unplanned visit, Lucifer’s crimson eyes studied Diavolo carefully. Surely something was up if he decided to come over out of the blue?

Of course Diavolo noticed the cautious behaviour of his trusted friend.

“There’s no need to look so on edge, Lucifer.” Diavolo insisted, “I merely just came to see how you are getting on. While in my company, MC alluded to the idea that you haven’t been your usual self at the moment. I just wanted to come and see that you weren’t overloaded with work.”

Lucifer scrunched his nose unconsciously. The thought that MC and Diavolo had discussed their concerns about him didn’t sit well with the eldest brother. And he despised the fact that it even resulted in the Prince checking up on him.

No matter how much work Lucifer had to get through, he was too stubborn to ever admit if it were too much.

“I am fine, my Lord.” He insisted after initially hesitating, “MC’s concerns are simply just the produce of the soft heart of a woman.”

“Well that’s not the impression I got.” Diavolo spoke genuinely as he walked over to the desk. “It does seem you have a lot here. Have you been giving yourself extra work?”

Narrowing his eyes, Diavolo moved various papers with his large hand; not recognising some of it as the reports he’d given Lucifer.

“I insist that I am okay, my Lord.” Lucifer pressed, “these are nothing but a few papers I offered to mark for a lecturer at RAD.”

Diavolo turned around to meet Lucifer’s eyes. “Perhaps you’re not worried about your health but I can see our bright souled human is. I know you care about MC, Lucifer, so perhaps you could ease on the work to stop her worrying about you.”

At this point Lucifer was really beginning to wonder what they’d been saying about him.

“You’re distracting that mind of hers.” Diavolo chuckled.

“I apologise, my Lord.” Lucifer gave in. “I will look to take a break when feasible.”

“Excellent!” Diavolo smiled, “because it’s not just MC who worries about you.”

“I know, my Lord.” Lucifer sighed, feeling mortified that it was now him being mothered.

“Speaking of whom, where is she this morning?” Diavolo asked changing the subject.

Turning away from the desk, he paced across the room before stopping in front of the fireplace. His eyes fell on the coffee table where MC’s tray remained from the previous night. His focus remained on the empty plate and cup before the eldest brother’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“With one of my brothers I presume.” Lucifer answered.

“Mm.” Diavolo nodded, “I was hoping if she wasn’t busy I could take her back to the palace with me now rather than the time we had agreed.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “She’s playing for you again, my Lord?” He questioned in a quiet tone.

“Not today.” Diavolo answered, “i don’t want her to think I merely invite her over just to play the piano for me. As much as I find pleasure in hearing her, I actually rather enjoy MC’s company.”

“I hadn’t realised you’d grown quite so close...” Lucifer spoke, watching Diavolo cautiously.

The Prince sensed something deeper in Lucifer’s tone. Turning his head, he studied the demon’s expression.

“She’s one of our exchange students, Lucifer, it’s important to have a strong bond with her.” Diavolo insisted with a smile.

“Of course, my Lord.” Lucifer backed down, realising that the Prince was catching onto his suspicions. Or at the very least, thinking Lucifer was being an overprotective guardian.

“You needn’t worry about her, Lucifer.” Diavolo insisted, “MC will always be safe while she is in my company.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Lucifer nodded.

Although that wasn’t actually what he was concerned about.

—

A/N: so it looks like Lucifer is growing suspicious over Diavolo! Do you feel sorry for him or do you think he should stop being a little bitch? Let me know!

#obey me #obey me shall we date

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ssa-daddyhotchner · 3 years

Text

The Struggle of Loving You - Chapter 10

Chapter Selection

Aiden was taken in last night. When police arrived they questioned Hotch and I, gathering information. They wanted to know things like why he was there, what happened, and why Aaron was there. That was something I wanted to know myself, I never asked him. It was around 12 - 1am, he should've been at home sleeping.

I woke up in my bed, with the very faint sun shining through the curtains. I rolled over and reached for my phone, it was 6am. Luckily I didn't have class today because it was a Saturday. Sitting up and throwing on a large hoodie I walked into the hallway.

Going into the kitchen and starting a much needed pot of coffee. I heard shuffling on the couch and I turned around to see Aaron sprawled out. I smiled and walked over sitting beside him trying to not wake him.

I had asked Hotch to stay after the whole thing just feeling a little shaken up.

I went into Chloe's room checking if she had come home last night but she wasn't there. I entered the living room again waiting for the coffee to finish, I sat next to Aaron on the couch careful to not wake him up. I went on my phone and started scrolling through Instagram.

The pot beeped letting whoever was there know it was ready. I poured it into a mug and putting a good amount of creamer the way I liked it. Being nice I also poured Aaron and cup knowing by the time he wakes up it'll be cool enough to drink.

Going back over I set both mugs on the table in front of us, the clink from the glass hitting the wood startled Aaron and he woke up. He opened his eyes and sighed, not noticing me right next to him. Turning his head he saw the steaming cup of coffee, he grinned sitting all the way up.

"Morning", He was snuggled up against the corner, with the blanket covering me. "How'd you sleep?"

"Decent considering it's a couch", I scooted a little closer to him. "Yeah sorry about that, you could've slept in the bed with me." He grabbed the mug off the table and started to blow into it, trying to cool it down. "It's fine, that's your space."

"It wouldn't have been a problem honestly"

"How about if there's a next time I'm here overnight, then I can sleep in your bed." I raised my eyebrows at him grinning a bit. "Next time?" He nodded and softly smiled. "You'd like that wouldn't you."

I started giggling but avoided the question not wanting it to get awkward even though it wouldn't have been. Aaron being a profiler saw through my silence and knew. I calmed down and wondered.

"If you don't mind me asking. Why did you come by last night?"He sat there and took a sip of his now warm drink. He turned to me, "I wanted to ask you something, I couldn't get it off my mind so I came over."

I raised my eyebrows silently asking him to continue, "It was just about Jack and I, I wanted to know if you wanted to spend some time with us tomorrow- well today." There was something about that didn't seem completely honest, like he was holding something back but I wasn't going to push it.

"Of course, It's been a few months since I've seen him. What'd you want to do then."

"He wanted to go skating but that's not really my thing, I figured you can go with us. Spend time with him." I nodded, taking a sip and turning on the tv. I leaned back laying my head on the arm rest, I kept moving around not being able to get comfortable.

"Come here", I glanced at him. I felt his arm touch mine, bringing me closer to him. My body pressed against his and his arm went around me. My head rested on my chest as his head rested on the cushion behind him.

He let out a sigh and mumbled to himself, "This is nice." We both tightened our grips around each other and I nestled my head into his chest more. We were watching the tv but I could tell neither of us were paying attention. Only focusing on each other.

Hotch's phone went off. He grabbed his phone and looked at the text, "Jack wants me to go and get him." He set his phone down.

"Where is he?" He looked down at me. "At a friends house, If you want you can come with me."

"Okay." I got up and went into my room getting some pants on before we left.

"Can you get breakfast after we pick up?" My stomach was growling, not having eaten since yesterday afternoon.

"Sure", I walked back out with jeans, and some sneakers. Hotch was up and put his shoes on waiting for me. We walked out of the apartment, locking the door behind us. Going down the stairs and into his car, driving to pick up Jack.

We had a simple conversation listening to soft music in the background. I wondered where Hayley was now, if she was still with her 'friend'. But I pushed those thoughts out of my head and focused on what was happening.

We got to his friends house and Jack crawled into the backseat. "Y/n!", the sound of that kid's voice brought me back to how much time I'd spent with him. How often we'd watch movies or be at the park; I missed him. "Hey little man, how's it going."

"Good but I missed you, dad used to talk about you after you left." I turned and looked at Hotch who was focusing on the road. "Is that so? all good things I hope." I giggled and looked at Jack.

"Yeah he would say ho-", Aaron cut him off. "Hey Jack do you want some pancakes?"

That drew Jack's attention quickly, that kid's mind went a hundred miles an hour constantly. He nodded enthusiastically, smiling brightly.

I leaned into Hotch whispering, "We're going to talk about that later." He laughed somewhat nervously.

Hotch parked the car in the lot of the restaurant. We walked in and sat at a table near the back. Taking a seat all of us reached for the menus. "So Jack... How's school."

"It's okay, it would be better but I don't have you there to help me with my homework anymore." Both of them looked at me sadly, clearly Jack wanted me to babysit again. I don't remember why I stopped but things happen I guess.

"Buddy I can help whenever I have the time, I have my own homework though so you're going to need to be patient." Hotch decided to change the conversation. "What are you guys getting?", I looked at Jack and he at me. We both said our answers simultaneously, "Peanut butter pancakes."

Hotch's lips turned upwards. The waiter came over and took our orders, both Jack and I getting a small coffee. "They start out young." I was referring to Jack drinking coffee considering I started at that age too. Hotch got a regular black coffee and an omelet.

The rest of the breakfast Hotch and I both noticed my admirer. Every time I would do something Jack would do the same, whenever I took a bite and wiped my mouth he did the same. I was laughing, "Jack are you copying me?" He glanced at me, "No..."

I glared at him, "Maybe." Hotch thought it was hilarious, he was sitting there quietly trying to hold in his laughter. I turned to him, "Something funny Hotchner." Collecting himself he quickly replied, "What- no."

I hummed and took another bite. Hotch and I split the check and we left, going back to the car. "What now." Jack said from the back. "Home", it was only 8:30am and there wasn't really anything open to do.

"I'll drop you back off, but if we do end up going out later like we had talked about... I'll text you."

"Okay", Hotch drove from the restaurant back to my apartment, dropping me off. I opened the door and got out, "Thank you for the breakfast."

"No problem." He said, smirking.

#aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron #SSA HOTCHNER #hotch #Thomas Gibson #hotchner #Criminal Minds #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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crowdedmidnight · 3 years

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How not to || Tyler & Maggie

@lisbuggyindie

Two months…two months Maggie Lane would be filming, “Hush little thing called Murder.” To say Maggie was excited was an understatement. Maggie loved her job; she loved playing pretend to help make people smile and just showing what she can do. But this project…well it was different. She had no idea who her opposites would be when she signed on the dotted line but when she found out the day before yesterday Maggie couldn’t help but squeal. She couldn’t believe who she’d star with. Tyler Mcgregor… Maggie’s heart started to be rapidly as the thought of seeing his steel blue irises made her heart race.

She met Ty a few times at some premieres and award shows and they talked a little but like never deep long conversations due to them being pulled away by their agents. But every little time, she got with him, she did appreciate. He seemed like such a fun guy, who led to her developing a little crush on him but she never admitted it out loud to anyone. The only person who knew were her best friends and they were also part of the Hollywood scene, so they knew it should be kept secret; after all Tyler was in a high profile relationship with another actor. Her stomach knots up thinking about them. Ugh Maggie stop it! She screams in her head at herself. She barely knows Tyler and she knew he probably forgot who she even was. Having always thought of herself as unmemorable, Mags sighs as she pulls into the studio parking lot.

She shouldn’t be thinking like this; parking her car, she grabbed her coffee cup and took a sip of it. She smiles starting to relax as the hot liquid hits the back of her throat. One thing that always calmed Maggie down was a hot cup of black coffee with two sugars exactly. It was the only way she liked her coffee. Looking at her car clock, she read 4:50am. The time on her call sheet was 6am which meant she needed to be here by five for hair and makeup. Pulling up the call sheet, she looked by her name which was Audrey Hepburn. She chuckles at the name because Audrey was one of her favorites; one of the reason she wanted to become an actress. Scrolling the sheet, she looked, trying to figure out who she was filming with today. Her named stopped at .. {Your Call sheet Nickname}. Trying to think of who that was, Maggie drew a blank before shrugging her shoulders and turns off the engine.

Getting out of her car, she pulls out two brown Starbucks bags and her purse as she locks her car and heads to the security guard. Smiling sweetly, she greets Callum kindly and hands him his coffee and muffin in a little bag before flashing her badge to let her in. He thanks her with a tip of his hat and Maggie smiles walking inside. No matter where Maggie was working, she had always made sure to mingle and smile with everyone who worked on the set she was at the time. She liked making sure everyone was comfortable because she knew how stressful sets could be. Smiling some more as more crew greeted her, Maggie smiled each handing them some food and coffee. About twenty later, after a few chit chatting and nice conversations, Maggie excuses herself saying she needed to get ready to film and the crew nodded and waved her off.

Once she finally got to the trailers, Maggie noticed the trailer next to hers, the light was already on. Wondering who she was working with today, she wanted to greet them but then looked at the clock and noticed she needed to get into hair and makeup within 4 minutes. Sighing to herself, Maggie rushed to the neighboring actor’s trailer and on the side table of his trailer; Maggie puts down a hot cup of black coffee and a small little brown bag with a chocolate mint muffin and a bagel. She quickly knocked on the person’s door and then runs off into her trailer getting ready. Maggie didn’t even bother to look at who answered the door. Thirty minutes later, Maggie was on set talking with the director about the scene. Listening intently to what he wanted, Maggie nods thinking piece of cake. Minutes passed as Maggie was rehearsing lines with Melise, one of her costars when she suddenly heard footsteps coming close to her. Turning her head a little, she sees him….

#myler #sbwritesmaggie #maggie x tyler #maggiextyler #omg it sucks im so sorry #starter #closedstarter

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writesowhatnext · 4 years

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you have to give a dog a name // frank castle

Summary: Frank takes a liking to a waitress at a diner – in Hell’s Kitchen it would never be long before the same waitress gets introduced to the Punisher

Request: just something i’d been thinking of for a while tbh

A/N: love Frankie

Reader: female

Warnings: age difference, violence, assault, swearing, dogs, injuries, guns

part 1 // part 2

Working the night shift at the diner down the street just to earn enough money to survive whilst also trying to get through school was not easy nor ideal. But it wasn’t the worst option. Not by a long shot. Especially not in Hell’s Kitchen, where vigilantes and evil villains ran around like they owned the place. Although, that’s exactly what they did.

You didn’t get what was considered enough sleep; what with half your time spent on night shifts and the other half working hard enough to escape them. So, whilst you stood there, behind the counter, at 4am, you barely noticed the guy in the baseball cap sitting in the booth across the diner. When you did, you fumbled for the coffee jug, dragging it across the counter towards him. He’d been in the diner almost religiously for the last two months – only ever in the night shift between the hours of 2 and 5am. You didn’t know his name and given the city you lived in, chose to ignore how bruised his face always seemed to be.

“Just coffee today?” You asked, pouring him a cup. He lifted his head slightly, only grumbling in response. On the other side of the restaurant, there was a clicking sound from a businessman with a grey suit and an uglier briefcase. He looked at you expectantly, clearly irritated. You bit your lip. Asshole.

“Are you sure I can’t interest you in some breakfast? I make some mean eggs.” He smiled slightly as you sighed. The clicking noise from the man’s fingers just got louder and more impatient.

“No thanks, Doll, just coffee.”

You nodded, offering him your own smile before your face dropped and you were forced across the room to an impatient middle-aged man’s beck and call. You fetched him the cheque, chancing a glance at the clock on the wall. 6am couldn’t arrive fast enough.

To say you were surprised to see no tip when you picked up the cheque from the businessman’s now empty table would be an overstatement of great proportions. You cleared his table, noticing that the man in the baseball cap had also left. However, when you went to retrieve the empty coffee cup from his table, you were surprised to see the face of Andrew Jackson. You frowned, smiling slightly before seeing to the other few-and-far-between customers in the diner at this time.

For the next few nights, you didn’t see the mysterious tipper in the diner. You didn’t think much of it, though. And at 5.30am, you weren’t going to lose the very little sleep you had thinking of it any more. Only thirty more minutes and you could escape and get some rest; well-deserved, you thought. The diner was actually completely empty, surprising for this time. The last customer you’d had (a lady, typing away into a computer for about three hours, that went through around seventeen cups of coffee) had just left. She’d paid in coins, and given a generous tip, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you placed each individual coin into cash register unbearably slowly. You muttered under your breath as you dropped a couple onto the floor.

As you bent down to pick them up, the bell at the door rang. Heavy, dragged footsteps made you frown but as you stood back, you were pleasantly surprised to see a familiar baseball cap, less so to see fresh bruises and- was that blood?

“Are you okay?” you asked, throwing the rest of the coins into the register and slamming it shut, leaning over the counter. The corner of his lips drew upwards as he sat at the counter, folding his arms in front of him.

“Fine, Doll.”

You frowned and grabbed the coffee jug from the machine, pouring him a cup and sliding it over.

“My name is Y/N.”

“Okay.” He smiled again and you couldn’t help but frown at the purplish hues of his face, the blood peeking out from under his hat. “Are eggs still on the menu?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise at his request but before long, a smile grew.

“Of course.”

He watched you mill around behind the counter, from the fridge to the pans to the shelves underneath the surface.

“Can I get you anything with that? Bacon? Hash browns? Mushrooms? Toast?”

“You’re okay, Doll. Eggs are fine.”

You nodded.

“How do you want them?”

“Surprise me.”

The silence was comfortable and nobody else decided they wanted diner food before six in the morning, fortunately. You were so involved in cooking that you completely forgot about counting down the minutes until your shift was over.

“Voila,” you placed down a place in front of him, not unaware of the way his eyes never strayed from your face. “Two eggs, over-easy. Because it’s my favourite.”

You grabbed some cutlery and a little sauce and seasoning rack and placed it in front of him.

“Thanks.”

You leant on your elbows, trying not to watch him eat but finding nothing better to do. He ate quietly and quickly, not bothering to add any extras. Just eggs and black coffee.

“What’s your name?” you asked. The way he paused didn’t escape you.

“Frank.”

Frank, you thought, definitely suited him.

The phone in the back rang; knowing it would be your boss, you offered Frank a smile and disappeared into the back. After a conversation that was not only unnecessary but about quite literally nothing, you returned to the front. Frank wasn’t there, he’d been replaced by Ulysses S. Grant. The bell above the door rang again as the girl on the day shift arrived. She shot you a sympathetically annoyed glance. You gave her a smile, thankful to be able to finally remove your apron and go sleep.

It wasn’t until thanksgiving that you saw Frank again. It was the night before and ever the gracious leader, your boss had let you leave early. Midnight. Lovely. So, you walked through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen warily, with your key shoved between your knuckles. You were about half a block from your house when you felt eyes on you. Your skin crawled. Walking down the alley, you heard footsteps behind you and the bleakest part of your mind hoped that you were only going to get mugged.

“Where you going, sweetheart?” a voice called out from in front of you. You swerved to the left, quickening your pace. Fuck fuck fuck.

“No need to run. We just wanna say hello.”

You stopped suddenly as a short white guy cut you off. He was smiling. You heard the footsteps behind you get louder.

“I don’t want any trouble-“

“Neither do we, Darling.” The man behind you was closer than you thought.

“Please-“

The man behind you grabbed your upper arm. Your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear, your ears throbbing.

With a strange jolt of adrenaline, you clenched your hand around the keys, jamming them into the man in front’s shoulder. He shouted as you pulled them out, reaching for you. Before he could reach you, the other man twisted you round to face him and he’s toothy smile. Mindlessly, you punched your hand into his face, feeling the keys sink into his cheek. He groaned and pushed you back. The keys dropped from your hand into a puddle on the ground. Fuck. You fell into the other man, hating the way his fingernails dug into your arm.

“You’re a bitch.” The one you had punched in the face spat, his cheek bleeding. The one behind you held you still – not from your lack of struggling – as the other approached. Your bag slid down your arm as you tried to rip your arms away; feeling his harsh grip eat into your arms.

A fist collided with your face and suddenly you were on the floor. A bottle smashed underneath you and you cried out, feeling the glass settle into the skin on your arm. You turned over, tasting blood in your mouth as your head swam. You could hear them talking behind you, chuckling to each other. You pushed yourself onto your hands and knees, your whole chest heaving. You reached for the rest of the half-shattered bottle, fingers skimming the glass surface. Before you could catch your breath, a hand gripped your hair roughly, pulling you to your feet as a cry left your lips. You’d managed to grasp the bottle and as your eyes watered from the pain in your head, you twisted round and thrust your hand into the figure holding you. He fell to the floor and you felt sick at the sight of the green glass buried in his shoulder, blood leaking around it and his eyes bulging.

“What the fuck?” the other man said, looking between you and his friend with angry eyes. You panicked, reaching to the ground to fish your keys from the puddle, hoping to get away. You didn’t get far before a hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back. He twisted your arm until you dropped your keys again. Your cry was cut short when his thick fingers wrapped around your throat and shoved you into the wall. Your free hand reached up to your neck, desperately trying to peel his fingers away.

“You fucking slut.” You moved your hand from your neck to his face, pulled and pushing to try and get him to let go. You clawed at his skin before shoving your fingers into his eyes, pushing until he let go and you dropped to the floor. You couldn’t breathe. Your heart was hammering.

You started to crawl away; your knees were sore against the concrete. Again, you didn’t get far. The same horrible hand caged your ankle and suddenly you were pulled towards him. Your knees sang in pain as you collided with the ground again. You would no doubt have rashes when you got out of this. If you got out of this. He stood between your legs and a different kind of fear overtook you. With nothing keeping you there, you backed away, elbows wet from puddles on the ground. The other guy still hadn’t got up, hand at his shoulder. He was breathing though, which you supposed was good for you.

You saw out of the corner of your eye, behind you, a piece of piping. As he got closer, his eyes predatory and angry, you quickened your pace, trying to ignore the pain you felt in your face, your knees and your neck. You grabbed at the piping as best you could, it spinning away from you as you panicked, still facing him. He bent down again to grip your ankle, dragging you once again, making you wince. He settled on his knees, hands groping up your leg. Your stomach dropped even further. You tried to back away but his fingers dug into your hips. You could feel his breath on your face and you tried to push him away but he shoved your wrist into the dirt behind you. You tried to kick but he knelt on your shins, pinning them down.

With your free hand, you pawed at the pipe, praying you could reach it as his hands strayed to your waist. With renewed panic, your hand finally found the pipe and before you knew it, you were swinging. It struck him in the side of the head; he jolted to the left. He was angry. So, you hit him again, burying into his skull. He sagged on top of you and all you could feel was your breath unable to escape your chest, his heavy body touching your skin. You rolled over. His hand twitched towards you. So, you hit him again. And again. And again. You were crying and sweating and you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t stop either. Not when his blood hit your face, not even when you were sure he was dead. You only stopped when you heard your name behind you.

You spun around, wielding the pipe roughly, pointing it towards whoever was there. Your heart stopped a little when you saw Frank. His eyes softened at the feral panic in your own eyes. His hands were raised in surrender, showing he meant you no harm. You wanted to believe him but in his right hand was a gun.

“Who the hell-“ the man with the glass in his shoulder began before a shot rang out. Frank’s eyes didn’t leave yours as he pointed his gun. You looked down at the man, briefly noting the way he dropped to the ground. Frank’s hand disappeared behind his back. You watched him tuck his gun into his waistband, approaching you slowly. He noticed your bag on the floor, fishing it out of a puddle, and the streetlight glint off of your keys a good few feet away. He picked them up too.

“You’re okay, Y/N.” he said softly. You dropped the pipe, barely hearing the clang as it hit the floor. You could feel yourself shaking as he got closer but you didn’t move. You didn’t want to see the man behind you. The man you were sure you’d killed. Frank knelt down in front of you, his hands still raised. You absent-mindedly wondered why he didn’t care about his jeans getting wet. You were sure they’d seen worse stains.

“Can you stand?” he asked softly. Looking at him, into his dark eyes, you couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t going to hurt you. So, you nodded. But then you tried. You felt like Bambi as you tried to make it onto two feet. You scrunched your eyes shut as you stood, wobbling.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?”

You nodded again but still winced as his hand rested on your arm gently. His tough, calloused palms were soft above your bruised skin.

“I killed him.” You muttered, over and over again as Frank pulled you slowly and gently into his chest. His arms surrounding you stilled your shaking slightly; you were grateful. You were confused when his right arm disappeared and his other hand pushed the side of your head further into his chest. It hurt briefly but when his hand covered your ear and another gunshot broke the silence, you silently thanked him.

“I killed him.” Frank said softly, his right arm returning to pull you into him. His logic was shaky but you appreciated the sentiment. “Where do you live, Doll?”

You couldn’t reply.

He stopped trying.

Without jostling you too much, he bent down and lifted your legs off of the floor. You were in a trance as he walked down the city streets, away from those men. You only sort of registered being inside, only taking notice when he lowered you to the ground. Still shaking, he didn’t dare move his hand away from your back. A jingling sound rang from another room, getting louder. You flinched. Then a dog appeared. It was a pit-bull with a too-large collar and a wiggle when it walked. A small smile lifted your cheek.

“Go away.” Frank said to the dog. The dog only barked back, coming closer to you with its wagging tail. Frank was about to shoo him out the room when you bent down, patting its head gently. Once again, Frank’s expression softened.

“What’s its name?”

Your voice was hoarse and broken and Frank barely recognised it.

“He doesn’t have one.”

You looked up at Frank then, with an almost teasing smile. You didn’t say anything though; just turned your attention back to the very grateful dog in front of you.

“Come on,” Frank said, lightly touching your arm, unable to tear his eyes away from the already forming bruises. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You left the dog rather reluctantly, following Frank into a cramped bathroom. He coughed slightly. “If you take your clothes off and sit on the tub, I’ll get some first aid shit.”

You were slow to take your clothes off – a mix of embarrassment, pain and unsureness marked every movement. Frank knocked before he returned.

“Come in.”

You were sat on the side of his bathtub only in your underwear. You’d avoided the mirror, already horrified at your injuries you could see. Frank examined you from the doorway. You couldn’t help but feel conscious of his stare.

“I’ll clean up the worst ones.” He said, sitting on the toilet lid so he was level with your shoulders. “I brought you some clothes.”

You looked at the pile of large clothes on the floor and nodded. Silence fell again as he started with your legs, using a wet cloth to wipe away the dirt from the scrapes and rashes on your skin. You just watched his face, too sick to watch him work. Every time he moved to a different injury, he looked at you, his eyes soft, checking if you were okay. You appreciated how such a tough guy could be so gentle. You flinched when he moved your hair to look at the bruises on your neck, more than you had done when he’d painstakingly picked glass from your arm. That was the only time you looked away from him.

Then his hand rested on your chin, holding it in place as he brushed your skin with a wet cloth. You couldn’t tell what you looked like but from the way the cloth became more and more soaked with blood each time he pulled away; you didn’t want to know. When he was finished, he held your face for a moment longer, tucking your hair behind your ear and offering you a smile.

“Clothes are there. I’ll be outside.”

And with that, he left. You could hear the jingling of the dog’s collar again through the door and you imagined Frank bent down, petting him whilst he waited. Frank’s clothes were too big for you but you appreciated how soft they were. Before you could open the door, you caught your reflection in the mirror above the sink and winced.

You were bruised all over and your nose was still raw despite Frank’s attempts to get rid of the blood. You could also see the welt forming on your neck. You could’ve stood there for hours; thankfully, Frank’s gentle knocking pulled you from your reverie and you opened the door to see him leaning against the wall opposite, pit-bull sitting happily at his feet.

“You should stay here tonight.”

You only nodded again before he led you into the lounge. It wasn’t much, with only a TV and a sofa linked to a tiny looking kitchen. You sat down, smiling slightly when the dog sat next to you, eager for more attention.

“Do you want some food?” Frank didn’t strike you as a man with a stocked kitchen. “Coffee? Water?”

“Water, please.”

Frank searched a good five minutes for a clean glass before he decided you’d have to cope with a coffee-stained mug. When he got back to the couch, he found you asleep, his dog sitting on your lap. He smiled. When the dog noticed him, he wagged his tail ferociously but, you didn’t wake up. So, he decided you probably wouldn’t wake up if he moved you. The dog was hot on his heels as he carried you to his bed, placing you under the covers and sending his dog a dry look when he joined you.

“You’re lucky she likes you.” He said to the dog, casting one last look at your face before closing the door and disappearing to spend the night on the couch.

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle imagine #frank castle x reader #the punisher imagine #imagine #writing

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absentlyabbie · 3 years

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a family and (mis)fortune fic

on ao3

moments growing up in the life of tommy merlyn, part-time wayne foster child. (seven)

—————

The morning of Tommy’s eighth day in Gotham, Bruce came downstairs in the morning at his usual 6AM, heading to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Dick would be down shortly, still half-asleep and grouchy from their late night, and Alfred wouldn’t be far behind. Bruce had scored a rare victory in their years-long argument that Alfred should take a late morning after manning the Batcave well into the small hours of the night.

What Bruce had not expected to find when he went into the kitchen was Tommy, seated at the small kitchen table with a bowl of cereal and the funny pages from yesterday’s paper spread out on the tabletop, spotted with milk and orange juice. Tommy had slept til nearly 8 every day of the last week, and Bruce had seen no reason not to let him.

Seeing that Tommy had clearly risen before everyone else was a surprise and a concerning break in pattern. To add to the concern, Tommy looked just as startled to see him.

“Good morning,” Bruce tested slowly. “You’re up early.”

Tommy tensed and looked away, one shoulder jerking in a dismissive shrug as he shoveled a too-large spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Hoping he wasn’t messing this up, Bruce asked carefully, “Bad dreams?”

Tommy ignored him as if he hadn’t spoken and Bruce winced discreetly, certain he shouldn’t have asked. Clearing his throat, he let it drop and went to the coffee maker. He left Tommy to his quiet, thinking on how tired he’d been of people trying to make him talk about what he’d felt and how he was coping when he was that age.

Minutes later, Dick shambled into the kitchen like a zombie in a blue pajama set, hair a wild mess and eyes only barely open. He grumbled a hello at Bruce and snatched Bruce’s mug from under the finishing drip, taking a long sip and hissing even as it scalded his lips and tongue.

Reprovingly, Bruce reclaimed his mug. “You are fourteen. Follow Tommy’s example. Orange juice.”

Scowling melodramatically, Dick dragged his feet to the fridge and grunted, “OJ’s not caffeinated.”

“That’s the point.”

Dick grumbled through pulling down a glass and pouring his juice, and Bruce hid a smirk in his coffee mug as he rounded the large center island. Normally, they took breakfast in the dining room, even when it was just toast and eggs or Pop Tarts for Dick. But since Tommy was already seated, Bruce decided to take a seat opposite him at the little eat-in as if this was as normal and routine as anything else.

Tommy didn’t even look up from his funnies.

Despite his grumbling, Dick was already far more awake and more his normal self by the time he headed over to them with orange juice and a silver foil packet in hand. He perched in the chair nearest Tommy’s and craned across the table with a playful curl to his mouth, “Whatcha got there? Ooh, is that—?”

Bruce looked up sharply at the loud smack of palms on tabletop, his brows arching high in surprise. Dick had tried to pull the comics pages towards him and Tommy had reacted with a swift, hard slap of his palms down on the paper, pinning it to the tabletop where it was.

But what drew Bruce up short was the venomous glare Tommy was pinning Dick with.

Dick had sat back sharp in his seat, eyes wide, shocked and a little hurt judging by the slight inward quirk of his brows. “Geez. Sorry.”

Tommy said nothing, just glared until Dick raised his hands from the newspaper pages and held them up in surrender. Bruce frowned as Tommy pulled the pages closer, hunched over them, and went back to his soggy cereal without a word.

Bruce and Dick exchanged a worried glance. For a moment, Bruce considered saying something about Tommy’s behavior, making him apologize to Dick. But he didn’t feel he’d made enough progress with him yet to practice amateur parenting on him. So he said nothing, and Dick slouched back in his chair to unwrap his Pop Tart and cast furtive, watchful glances at Tommy, who ignored them both steadily.

It only got worse as the morning went on. Not even Alfred got an acknowledgement when he joined them in the kitchen. Tommy looked at no one, spoke to no one, just folded up his funnies, put them in the recyclables bin, rinsed his bowl and glass and set them in the sink, and walked out of the kitchen without so much as a backwards glance for any of them.

Bruce felt he’d somehow not only lost all the progress he’d made with Tommy in his first week, but somehow regressed even further.

All of a sudden, he was quiet to the point of silent treatment, and though Bruce had noticed many times that Tommy carried in him an anger mostly hidden, it was closer to the surface than ever, a pot hissing and simmering and threatening to boil over any moment.

Only he never boiled over.

He kept up that spitting low boil for almost two days, spending as much time alone as possible, speaking as little as he could get away with. Two days of no smiles and no laughter, just clenched tight as a fist and ticking like a bomb that refused to go off.

Bruce was at a loss. Alfred was concerned, watchful, but insisted on being hands off.

“Perhaps he needs to get something out of his system, Master Bruce. We must let him talk to us when he is ready,” Alfred had suggested gently, and as much as it chafed at Bruce, he saw no other approach that didn’t look like it might make things worse.

Dick, on the other hand, was absolutely determined to recover the kid he’d started to befriend, the one who liked his puns and his comics and video games and talked to him.

It was perhaps unsurprising that it was Dick’s persistence that eventually paid off. He needled and nagged and dogged Tommy at every turn the two days of silent treatment, cracking jokes and performing outlandish stunts and gags and being generally annoying, whatever he thought might get a reaction.

And he did get a reaction, though Bruce wasn’t sure it was the one he ought to have been aiming for.

Tommy broke not with giggles or grins, but with a fed-up howl of “Will you quit it!!”

There had followed a cackling laugh—Dick—and a growling shout—Tommy—and a loud thump.

Bruce had hurried to the library to find the boys wrestling on the floor between two shelves, pulling at fingers and hair and shoving feet in faces. Bruce stared, stunned, from the doorway, struck by how unfair a fight it was with Dick almost five years older and regularly training in martial arts.

But Dick didn’t pull any of his advantages other than size, letting Tommy get on top of him twice and think he had him pinned before bucking the smaller boy or wriggling out from under him to turn the tables all over again.

Eventually Tommy got fed up, kicking Dick off of him with both feet to the chest—almost impressive, admittedly—and jumping to his feet with an aggravated huff and face red. He glanced to the door and did a wincing doubletake on spotting Bruce. Reddening even more, he shoved past Bruce to run stomping down the hall.

Watching him go until he turned a corner, Bruce shifted his attention to Dick with arms crossed and one eyebrow arched. “Was that the wisest approach, Dick?”

Dick, for his part, snorted and rolled nimbly onto his toes with a grin. Rubbing his sternum lightly in appreciation, he gave Bruce a twinkling look and a shake of his head. “You so obviously didn’t grow up around other kids.”

Bruce frowned as Dick danced breezily past him, hands in pockets. “I had friends.”

“Uh huh,” Dick drawled.

“I wasn’t a child hermit, Dick.”

He spun on his heel in the middle of the hallway to look Bruce in the eye with deep solemnity. “I believe you.” Sarcastic brat. “Trust me, this was good. It’s only up from here.”

Bruce hummed skeptically as Dick strolled whistling down the hall.

But really, he hoped Dick was right.

—————

@memcjo @klaus-hargreeves-katz @its-a-pygmy-puffle @keabbs @princesssarcastia @obscure-sentimentalist @icannotbelieveiamhere @p0cketw0tch @andyouweremine @storiesofimagination @acheaptrickandacheesyoneline @cronusamporaofficial @batsonthebrain @adeusminhacolombina @nothinglikeweplanned

#tommy merlyn #bruce wayne #dick grayson #arrow #arrow fic #batfam #alfred pennyworth #family and (mis)fortune au #fam au

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iheartchv · 3 years

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hi there! could i possibly have a match up? (for an oc of mine called Kimberley) because i think you’re really good at these! ☺️ ok she’s a gemini, she’s french (still struggles with english sometimes), charismatic and charming, black hair and light grey eyes. she’s super curious and loves listening to people gush about their loves and interests; but she can ask a LOT of questions out of genuine interest...

she’s also an early bird! she’ll be awake at 6am for a morning run like a total nut job. has a ‘willing to try everything once’ attitude. also flirting with people? not a problem! when they flirt back? error 404 she can’t cope. normally she’s by-the-book and well behaved but can be swayed into shenanigans with encouragement. hope this is ok, thanks! 💕

Aw thanks~ Sure thing😄💕

🤔Its a tie between Donatello and Michelangelo, but I'm gonna have to pick... Donatello💜

There was something about her that drew Donnie in

Maybe it was her charming ways, maybe it was her charisma

Whatever it was he couldn't stop thinking about her

He loves her curious mind

He too is always curious about things, always wanting to learn

He also loves it when she listens to him, and asks questions, because it makes him feel important and appreciated

He loves her attitude toward trying out different things for different expereiences; nothing ventured, nothing gained

He knows French so he can pick up on what she may be saying ( he's still studying it, along with many other languages )

Donnie was surprised by her flirtatious advances before but now that he learned from her, he does the same to her

He loves seeing her blush and call her cute

As for the mornings, he's either up from last night or could be sleeping in late from staying up almost all night

But maybe with picking up her habit of going to bed and then getting up might help him in the future

But for now, don't ever wake him or he'll be grumpy, unless there's a pot of coffee

He is such a sweetheart

He'd be such a good boyfriend to her, and he promises to do that

He'll leave kisses on her cheeks, forehead, wherever he can reach

If she ever needs him, he's only a phone call away

"My lovely dove, I can't imagine what life would be like now without you"

💜🐢💕👧

Hope you like it ( it's 1 A.M. at time of posting ) and get who you wanted😆😅

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2016 #bayverse #tmnt 2014 #donnie #donatello #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2007 #tmnt 2012 #ask #request #matchup #match up

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alphasmoonlit-selfships · 3 years

Note

🍃 🐚 ⭐️

Hello mystery anon! Thank you so much for the ask! I forgot as I was writing that that were asks meant to be answered by me for my F/o, but considering my recent f/o takeover by my dearest Atsushi, he answered a few of the asks too! UwU;

"It is a shared blog between us, Darling," Atsushi commented lightly, resting his chin a top the petite brunette, "I'm sure they won't mind at all!" 🥰

"Well let's just jump right into it, shall we?"

🍃: Do you live together? If not, would you like to? How would you or how do you decorate?

Atsushi: We do live together actually! You can know more about that here in this ask!

Though the second question is new to answer; it was a slow and gradual process to decorate our place after it was entirely cleaned and ready to inhabit. We started with basic things we could afford, the Agency definitely helping us to get a few other things to fill in the space and make it feel more homey. Which we were grateful towards nonetheless!

Even so, I think the decorator between us is Dany, she usually suggests colors and what might fit well with the setting of a certain room in our condo. As well as how the layout should be. Of course, I pitch in my own suggestions that she usually considers and takes full validation of 😄 it definitely helps her figure things out as she often hits a dead end and is left a bit irked when she runs out of ideas 👀

We often buy things at random that might make the condo more homey, be it buying some items for the living room or dining, some plants to make the place more lively, either inside or on the balcony space, or paintings and frames. Which might I add, we have hung some pieces we worked on together!

It was some quality time building when we painted and made a messy, yet nice piece done! I may not be much of an artist, but Dany does know how to boost someone’s confidence when it comes to the subject U///w///U she is very sweet, comforting and patient.

But yeah! We are a bit of a mix of traditional, minimalist, and modern through the home!

🐚: Which one of you brings the most physical or emotional energy to the relationship? Are there ever times where it’s overwhelming to the other, or are you pretty evenly matched?

Atsushi: I think Dany and I have shared a decent amount of offering each other that physical and emotional and mental energy to our relationship. It varies a lot with what we experience individually, but overall it is evenly match. We have a deep understanding of one another and share a few similarities when it comes to how we think and want to act on our emotions and affections.

I think Dany gives more of the physical energy as she isn’t one to always put things into words as it sounds in her mind. Her affection is warm, sweet, comforting, it’s soothing and brings out any tension I feel personally after a bad day. She often sings and hums to offer a bit of vocal response, or asks questions for me that give me the door to open if I want to talk about something. She doesn't press instantly and allows space for me to figure out what I would like to say.

I do worry that sometimes I may be a bit overwhelming for her; she is rather emphatic and has the tendency to take other’s emotions that often do drain her later on. It..often leads her to be apathetic when she feels her own bad days.

Which leads to the opposite of me, she is more withdrawn from speaking about her struggles and worries. Always giving a lot of herself to me or others that she forgets about herself. That’s where I have slowly began to draw her out of that mindset, I can understand where she comes from in that regard and offer what she usually craves the most; To be listened without being interrupted or bringing up an assumption she hasn’t stated. She use to apologize,,, frequently for how she just kept rambling about some feelings and teared up out of emotion. She still does occasionally, but not as often as before.

We have been through a lot, uncovering old wounds and healing together. Giving each other that reassurance and validation we both crave more than anything. I think that’s a great positive to our relationship, is how well we share a wavelength in our emotions and how we naturally crave physical bliss from each other. It’s a steady and comforting recovery to just cuddle in bed together after a draining day, for either or both of us.

On a positive note, we are very affectionate and sweet together, so a lot of other people tend to say. Sometimes saying how we are wholesome, or adorable together. It is nice and validating to hear. I tend to be more loving in public when given the chance, Dany isn't much into PDA as she doesn't like so many eyes on her. But has gradually learned to not care too much on it. She has gotten more confident in that regard 🥰 especially with surprise kisses U///w///U

I think the first time she ever kisses me a bit...passionately in public was when someone was apparently flirting with me? I didn't have a clue about it if I have to be honest 😅 and I do think her wolf ability may have given her that forward reaction to kiss me. Surprised I was, but not at all opposed to it~ it was so cute to see slowly realize what she did later and how she practically combusted into embarrassment for her forward action. She definitely needed some reassurance and words of encouragement from me 🥰🥰🥰

Needless to say, she is adorable and I love my darling, tiny lover UwU <3

⭐️: Does your FO have any habits that you only noticed after spending a significant amount of time with them? Do they notice any of yours?

Habits eh? Hmm, Atsushi has some peculiar ones that are caused by his tiger ability... I mean so do I, but I'm normally like that since I was a child. 😅 He is like a cat sometimes and it is honestly endearing to witness and very comforting 🥰 he purrs when we cuddle and has these big eyes sometimes when I give him praise and kisses UwU. Sometimes dilated during more... affectionate times~

He also still bares some habits that stem from his time at the orphanage that I never noticed until we started living together. Such as his early sleep and morning wake up schedule. I’m not much of a morning person in the slightest 😅 I can be very irked and tense and need at least an hour to mentally wake myself up as I move about the place. I especially need coffee and some sort of protein with my food to wake me up.

I’m not very lively and may look irritated to a fault 😔 the amount of times I worried mi Tigre at the start because he thought he did something wrong ;;;w;;; of course with time he understood and got use to it and definitely gave me the space to compose myself. He definitely makes it easier to wake up with a few affectionate kisses and preparing breakfast ;;;w;;; I, of course, in the rare times do the same for him, I just have to be up prior to his now 6am wake up 😮‍💨

Hmm.. he also has his bad days, usually when a memory of his past flickers in his mind he kind of shuts down and it leads to nightmares occasionally. They were more frequent earlier on when we moved in together in the dorms and the first few weeks in our new home and have gradually slowed down. But sometimes I would wake in the middle of the night to him gone, immediately picking him out cowering away in a closet. Huddled in a ball and attempting to stifle his tears when I find him..

I was concerned, but not overly as before when he first did this prior to our relationship. Instead I joined him and offered him my comfort to ground him back from his terror and memory. Usually wordless, gentle comfort and letting him cry out all the emotions that twist and pained his heart. Once he calmed a bit, I offered any words of validation and usually pitch the question if he would like to talk about it. Sometimes yes, sometimes no, either or I don’t let up holding him and keeping him steady to present time.

It’s definitely helped a lot, mi pobre tigre… he feels bad sometimes for the disrupt sleep or mental toll it brings me. But I always remind him, gently but stern, that in those moments he is the one that matters and I am not about to abandon him in his time of need.

Maybe it’s because I understand him deeply in that sense, while our lives may not have been the same, we understand the toll our traumatic past takes on us, individually.

Atsushi has definitely been there for me a lot of the time, I have a lot of self doubt and need plenty of reassurance. I’m..overly sensitive too so I don’t like arguing or any rise in anger, it’s hard for me to…really stand up for myself in that regard; hee..to literally not cry because I am trying to make a point…

Ah sorry, about the small downed turn this took; I don’t normally talk about these things. Am trying to get better by talking more about it, especially with mi Tigre who honestly listens when so many … often don’t.

Nonetheless, some more positive, funny/cute habits from the last; Atsushi tends to ramble on about new things he learns and enjoys telling me more about it. I remember he spoke for a whole hour about chameleons, I drew him some cute doodles as he told me more about them. He keeps the image somewhere in his phone. He also rubs his neck or cups his chin a lot when confused, nervous or in deep thought.

He on the other hand has noticed how often I tend to sit on my legs, that I don’t have a single perfect posture no matter where I sit. Could be the most comforting chair or very stiff, hard ones and I still keep my legs up with me. I just can't for the life of me sit still at all, it'd last like less than 5 minutes at most 😅 but he finds it adorable and cute how often I can just curl myself into what looks like an awkward position to others but for me is rather comfy and just how I prefer to sit.

His lap is the most comforting place to sit tho 👀👀

Atsushi: You also have the bad habit of biting your lips, Darling 👀

👀...Noooo... okay yes I do, a lot, like a lot more as of recent,,, And I crack my fingers a lot too...and tap my feet, more so in public out of nervous jitters I think...

Well, that's enough of that~ we greatly appreciate the emoji asks and honestly love doing these kinds of asks 🥺 it gives me so much more of a chance to explore the dynamic and relationship between mi Tigre and I ❤️😍🥰 Leaves me warm and fussy and soft. A melting puddle of silly and foolish love U///w///U...

Please by all mean's don't be shy to send asks or talk with me! I do my best to respond when I can and want to give all my love and support to every self shipper! Till the next asks! Take care!

#bungou stray dogs #atsushi nakajima #atsudany #danielle mika mason #self shipping #self ship community #f/o takeover asks #self ship #tag: we are of the moon and stars my dear #f/o asks

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themysteriousauthor18 · 4 years

Text

Childhood friends PT. 2

This is no longer a oneshot---

Artist of picture above:

"So ya not allowed to go to da school?"

"Nah. Pa says it doesn't help and gets in the way of my trainin'." The blonde grumbled. He stared up at the blue sky, the clouds moving by ever so slowly and the summer heat being a little too much for blonde. He wiped some sweat from his forehead before placing his hands back on his stomach.

It seemed after four years the 13-year-old still wasn't able to handle the harsh heat that New Orleans brought.

Beside him, the brunette clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Dats just dum. Dey goin' makes you dumb." The blonde laughed.

"That's what I said!" He yelled into the open clearing. He smiled sadly at the sky, his green eyes becoming glossy. "Right before pa hit me a bunch." The brunette looked at him concerned his lips dropping into a frown.

"Anthony..dat don't sound gud." The pre-teen shook his head, moving his hands off his stomach and sitting up. He groaned a little in doing so.

"It's fine. If it means ma' ain't gotta take them, then I'm happy to instead." The brunette sat up now too turning to look at the pale blonde. Anthony brought his knees to his chest and looked over to the boy beside him.

It was as if the world blessed his looks, with how the sun made his light brown skin shimmer in the summer heat. The sharp beige vest he had 'been forced into' again according to him, only made him look more handsome. Even the strands of brown hair that stuck out in an odd direction couldn't compare to his looks.

He wasn't sure if it was the hormones setting in with turning 13 but lately, he had found himself looking at Edward (Alastor) more often than not. Since he'd turn 12 he had begun finding the boy more handsome than someone his age and gender should.

He still cringed at his comment he made the day they met. 'Well, I like you.' His nine-year-old self had said. Of course, he hadn't meant it in that context but he didn't really know better.

"Anthony ya starin'." The brunette reminded like he had done so many other times. He never got mad at him for it, just calmly reminded him of the action.

His pale cheeks flushed a light pink in what he blamed on embarrassment. "Sorry." He muttered looking away.

"It's fain." He heard him say in his thick accent. It was strange, sometimes he caught the brunette trying to suppress it but never knew why. In recent years it seemed more common. Sometimes his accent would come at full volume other times it would sound restrained.

He never explained why, and whenever he pointed it out he would get the usual response. "What are ya tawking about?" And that would be the end of it.

Suddenly he heard the grass rustle beside him and as he looked he saw Edward getting to his feet. Anthony did as well when the older male began to walk away. "Wait Edward were ya goin!" The brunette paused, the sky had seemed to get darker all of a sudden. As if the sun had gone and hid away.

Now instead a shadow cast over the large clearing and a cold wind blew past them. It rarely ever got cold here.

He paused, looking at the pale boy. "I have to go now, Anthony. I'm sorry." He sounded sad but his expression didn't dwindle from its neutral state. The wind seemed to pick up with the end of his sentence.

Anthony bolted towards him once he'd turned around and lunged for his arm grabbing it tightly. "Ed please don't go! Please! I-I don't want you to not yet!" Not ever.

A shadow cast over the brunette's eyes now and to Anthony's horror, the world around them began to blur with the darkness slowly consuming it and the wind is almost too much to bear.

He looked over his shoulder at the pleading pre-teen and frowned. His warm brown eyes held a darker look to them similar to a dead person's eyes when the life had left them. His lips parted and as he spoke the wind froze in its tracks, all sound stopped and all he could hear was his voice.

"I'm already gone, Anthony. Wake up."

Angel gasped for air as he suddenly found himself awake..were, where was he? Were was Edward.

The hard pulsing of his heart in his chest brought him to realize he was truly awake now. That he had just had a nightmare..or rather, a memory altered into a nightmare.

He stared up into the darkness, the loud thumping of his heart in his ears slowly fading out. And the soft ticking of his clock fading in.

He sighed sitting up in his head as he brought a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He felt cold and that was likely due to the chill that ran through his apartment during the colder months. October was no exception.

His tank top and boxers were also drenched in the cold sweat he himself was covered in. His eyes lazily looked around the darkness of his small room.

His heavy eyes looked over to his side table and at the illuminated green lights of his clock. He grabbed it, squinting at the numbers the sleep still in his eyes.

6am

He groaned, putting the clock back down with a light slam. A sigh followed as he threw the covers back and swung his legs over onto the wooden floors. A chill ran through him, the floors were ice cold per usual.

There was no way he would be getting back to sleep tonight, despite how tired he felt.

That early morning started as all his usual days did. With some kind of joint.

Once he'd moved away and to New York, turning to drugs was all too easy. With his mother passing soon after their move there and the lack of one of his main friends there was nobody to stop him. Cherri hadn't come into the picture until a few months later and she wasn't exactly a sadist against drugs.

Surprisingly working under his father in the mafia didn't pay all that well, well for him at least. That led him to live in this rather run-down apartment. He was lucky enough to have Cherri as a roommate, without her he probably wouldn't even be here.

As he sat down on the edge of his bed, lighting the joint it glowed a soft orange in the darkness.

Sometimes he wondered if the low amount of cash he was paid was because his father was purposely trying to keep him from traveling to New Orleans, or just because he hated him

"Probably both." Angel mused quietly to himself.

Shortly after his mom died he had met Cherri and one day she'd given him the nickname of 'Angel'. He liked it, so he started going by that. He didn't want to be Anthony anymore...that person was gone. That person was left back in New Orleans with the charming childhood friend of his and his sweet mother.

No, Angel didn't care about life anymore and was just spending each day trying to numb the pain.

Molly and Arackniss supported him with the new name. Molly not questioning it while Arackniss seemingly not caring. His father didn't care at all and continued to call him by his birth name whether he liked it or not.

No surprise there.

He took a long hit of the joint allowing the drug to fill his lungs, enjoying the tingling sensation that it brought as it ran through his veins. He held it in for a moment before slowly allowing the smoke to escape his mouth and into the darkened room.

Cherri to his surprise was also in the mafia. But her father was a lot nicer and unlike his own, the guy let her do what she pleased. He even let her help out sometimes although not very often. So each day they spent doing whatever they pleased.

Or to put it more realistically, did whatever they pleased until Angel got the call from his father or Arackniss to get his ass to work.

He wasn't always needed, he was just another one of the men in his father's organization. And he liked it that way.

He took another hit, laying back against the wall behind him. He closed his eyes, holding the smoke for a moment before letting it out again.

Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder what Edward was up to these days. If the brunette remembered him, cared to remember him? If he missed him as the blonde did him.

But oftentimes his mind would be cruel and serve the more darker thoughts.

With how handsome he was, he was probably already with someone. A girl most likely considering he never showed signs of being anything besides that.

She was probably beautiful. And he was probably happy and forgot that he'd even existed.

Probably

His mind reminded.

Before his mind could go any further on this thought train the sound of a door opening from outside his room drew his eyes open. Truthfully he was thankful for the sudden distraction.

He got up from his bed, cringing as it squeaked loudly from the shitty mattress. If Cherri didn't know he was awake before, she certainly did now.

Joint resting between his lips he opened his bedroom door.

As stated earlier, the apartment was a bit run down and in no means luxurious. Due to this, they had no living room. Instead, the kitchen lay right outside Angel's small room, the door across from that was Cherri's room with the door next to that being their shared bathroom.

She had a TV in her room and they'd often have movie nights or just watch TV when they didn't want to go out.

As he guessed Cherri was standing outside of her bedroom door rubbing her eyes. Sweats and a tank-top, her usual nightclothes. Her blonde hair was down and disheveled like Angel's.

Angel leaned in his doorway leaning his hip against the frame as he took the blunt in between his fingers. He watched his roommate yawn before noticing his presence.

"Oh, mornin' Angie." Another nickname she had for him, one he didn't mind either. He laughed.

"Ya couldn't sleep either huh?" She was already going over to the gas stove to put the kettle on for coffee.

"Bitch your loud ass was snoring again." She complained. Angel walked over to her now preferring to lean against the counter beside the stove. He clicked his tongue as she filled the kettle with water and put it on to boil.

"I don't fucking snore." She smirked as she snatched the cig from his fingers. He glared at her but she ignored it, taking a hit from the now shorter joint.

"You have a nightmare again?" She asked taking a seat at their tiny square table that only held to chairs. He remained leaning against the counter, the frown playing on his lips had been enough of an answer to her question.

She sighed the smoke flowing into the air once again. "Hey! I heard Pentious was workin' on some new shit for October! How about we go and check 'em out today?" Angel smiled lightly giving a half-hearted laugh.

"Yeah, sure that sounds like fun. Go and bug that man of yours." She stuck her tongue out at Angel.

"Bout time you get one for yourself." She stood flicking the finished joint into the wet sink. Angel took her seat down at the table leaning on the wall behind him. Cherri gave him a look for taking her seat but he just stuck up a finger at her and she returned the gesture with a smile. "I'm fine on my own. 'Sides it ain't hard to get laid in this town."

Cherri smacked her lips as she turned off the kettle reading the coffee. "You know I'm not talking about that." Angel remained quiet, wishing he had another joint to burn or something.

"I ain't awake enough for this shit Cherri." Angel finally responded, his voice less than sweet. His tone was enough of a warning to drop the subject.

This wasn't the first time it was brought up and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

Cherri shrugged, picking up the two mugs and setting Angel's down in front of him before taking the seat across from him.

The blonde male looked at the window in front of the sink. The sun had yet to come up. He chewed on his bottom lip closing his eyes for a moment.

"Ed. What are you doin' here! If my dad finds you he might skin ya alive." The teen whispered in the darkroom, sitting upon his bed.

The young brunette climbed through the window setting his feet down on the floor. He smiled brightly at the still groggy blonde.

"I dought it be cool ta see da sunrise with ya. Before I gotta go ta school today." The younger male found himself smiling.

"Fine..just, warn me next time."

The two laughed quietly, watching through the window as the sun slowly began to rise from the horizon.

Angel turned his eyes away from the window, the sky beginning to become lighter. He wrapped his hands around the mug and lightly sipped his coffee, welcoming its warmth.

(I'm betta off alone.)

#radiodust #au #fanfiction #alastor #angel dust #shipping #hazbin hotel

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camillemontespan · 4 years

Text

ten years from now [AU. drake walker x camille montespan] [part one: sun cream and peaches]

I’ve missed writing a Drake x Camille focused series! I was hit with inspiration and had to get this down. While I was in Japan, I spent an hour each morning writing this while having coffee and demolishing chocolate bread. As a result, this got quite long. As this chapter is setting things up, I guess it has to be long but I still apologise.

On a personal note, I realised while writing this that it has actually been ten years since I broke up with my previous boyfriend so I met one summer and really fell for. Maybe it was on my mind subconsciously? We ended with no closure. I actually ended up meeting him again three years after - let’s say it was a weird experience. What happens in this chapter is inspired by that.

ALSO, @burnsoslow has a series coming out soon that is similar in terms of Drake & MC meeting again. We have messaged each other recently, panicking that it looks like we’re copying each other, but I must stress that we are absolutely not. It happens when everyone gets similar ideas. Burnsy, I’m excited to read your new series!

Taggin’ those who like Cake: @ibldw-main @moonlightgem7 @jovialyouthmusic @pug-bitch @emichelle @loveellamae @mskaneko @sirbeepsalot @katedrakeohd @dcbbw @argylemnwrites @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @simplymissjulia @kingliam2019 @saivilo @rainbowsinthestorm @gardeningourmet @walkerswhiskeygirl @drakesensworld @pedudley

Let me know if you want removed from the tag list or if you want to be added :)

*******************************************************

Their feet were tangled together as they lay side by side on the jetty. The sun was setting low in the sky, casting a golden glow over their skin. The scent of sun cream and peaches bloomed in the warm air.

‘Drake, stop tickling me!’ Camille squealed, giggling and snorting as Drake’s fingers tickled her ribs.

'No way, Montespan,’ Drake teased. 'Not while you’re snorting like that!’

Camille snorted again, making the two of them descend into giggles.

They had been best friends since they were toddlers. But lately, they had gotten closer, more intimate as the summer began to fade, making way for fall. Maybe it was the thought that soon they would be separated that had made Drake and Camille progress their friendship to one that involved kissing and holding hands. They were no longer just best friends. They had defined their relationship.

Camille was due to start Brown in September while Drake was going to Berkley. They had a whole future ahead of them, one filled with opportunity and hope. Even though they were excited, they had promised that they would Skype every day and visit each other whenever money and time allowed. This would be the first time in their 15 year friendship that they would be apart.

Right now, they were keen to soak up the last days of summer with each other. That was all they needed.

Drake rolled over to suspend his body above hers. He was starting to build muscle now after spending more time outdoors at his summer job and he looked more self assured and confident - Camille was used to seeing him retreat into himself so to see this change in him made her feel so happy. The way he was looking at her now, with a twinkle in his eye and a confident smirk, was enough to make her body react in the most exciting way.

They hadn’t gone the whole way yet. In fact, they hadn’t actually discussed it but Camille was hopeful. She had never been with a boy before. Spending every day with Drake, watching their friendship change to something more, had been eye opening for her. She wanted him and only him. It was scary and terrifying and bewildering and delicious.

Camille reached up to graze his jaw with her hand. Drake smiled down at her and kissed her softly, making her lips tingle. She decided to take the plunge. Her hand slowly reached down to unbuckle his belt. Drake drew back and regarded her with a curious expression.

'Someone feeling feisty?’ he asked her.

Camille raised an eyebrow. 'Maybe.’

Drake chuckled. He let out a hiss as he felt her hand touch him.

'Are you sure?’ he croaked.

Drake had never been with a girl in this way. He had never had much luck with girls in the past. He could feel his heart hammering against his chest now as he realised that if Camille said yes, then that was it.

He hoped she would say yes.

Camille nodded. 'I want to do this with you,’ she whispered. 'Nobody else.’

Drake’s breath hitched. He studied her face that was so beautiful. Her brown eyes flecked with gold. Her high cheekbones and mouth with its gorgeous cupids bow. Drake knew she was going to be a gorgeous woman when she was older.

Drake leaned down to kiss her again before gently pulling away to look down at her. 'I..’

He stopped, taking a breath. Camille smiled. 'Yes?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Drake turned pink but soldiered on. 'I love you,’ he finally told her, his voice shaking. 'Always have, always will.’

Camille turned pink too. 'I love you too, Drake Walker,’ she murmured.

They kissed again until Camille broke away from him.

'Promise me that we’ll still be together ten years from now,’ she said, her voice steady. 'No matter what happens at college or in the future, promise me that we’ll be together in ten years.’

Drake laughed softly. 'Are you proposing marriage to me, Montespan?’

Camille squeezed his hand. 'Drake..’ she whispered. 'Be serious.’

Drake leaned down to kiss her neck, making her gasp. His hands gripped her hips tightly.

'I promise,’ he murmured in her ear. 'Ten years from now, we’ll still be together.’

Drake meant it.

**********************************

ten years later

'There’s a good girl. That’s it..’ Drake murmured, coaxing Lone Star to leave the stable. The apple he held in his hand acted as a way to get the horse to do his bidding. Drake managed to successfully get the horse outside so she could exercise out of the confines of the stable. Smiling, he let Lone Star munch on the apple.

He had been working since 6am. The sun was high in the sky now and his body was shiny with sweat. This was his life. Up at dawn to manage the ranch then at 9am, he would fix breakfast for him and his mom before getting back to work.

Speaking of..

Drake rushed back to the house. He found his mother sat at the kitchen table reading the paper. 'Hey mom,’ he greeted her, pressing a quick kiss on the top of her head.

Bianca smiled up at her son. 'Morning, honey. Coffee is ready for you.’

Drake grinned and poured himself a cup of coffee. 'So, bacon and eggs for breakfast?’ he asked.

'I was thinking pancakes,’ Bianca mused, turning the page of the newspaper. 'And fresh OJ.’

Drake rolled his eyes. 'You’re so demanding.’

'Can it,’ Bianca retorted. 'I’m your mother, I’m allowed to be demanding.’

She gave Drake a wink to show she was teasing. Drake smiled and sat down opposite her to drink his coffee. He looked at her paper to see she was studying the marriage announcements.

He swallowed. Drake knew Bianca had been hoping for her only son to get married and have lots of babies. All she wanted was for him to be with the girl of his dreams. But Drake hadn’t found her yet. Or maybe he had, he had just let her go without realising.

Bianca cleared her throat and pushed the newspaper towards him. Well, it was the Applewood Gazette, not exactly a broadsheet. It was a paper he didn’t read but one his mother adored because it meant she could have all the county gossip without looking like she was a gossip herself.

He noticed that she was pointing to an announcement. 'Baby..’ she whispered.

Drake frowned and took the paper. His eyes scanned the words.

'Applewood’s former resident, Camille Gabrielle Montespan, would like to announce her upcoming marriage to Mr Liam Anthony Rhys from New York. The happy couple will be visiting Applewood on 5th June to invite Camille’s friends to the wedding, which is confirmed to be being held in New York at the beautiful Metropolitan Museum of Art in three months time. Camille looks forward to seeing everyone again.’

Drake pushed down the bitter taste in his throat. Bianca’s eyes glistened. She had always loved Camille. She had really hoped that Drake and Camille would have gone the distance.

'How nice for her,’ Bianca said tightly.

Drake sipped his coffee, refusing to comment.

'Are you going to see her?’ Bianca asked, her voice slightly hopeful. 'Maybe you could invite her round for dinner? We could all catch up -’

'No, mom,’ Drake interrupted. 'We’re not friends anymore. I barely know her.’

'But-’

Drake sighed. 'I said no. Now, pancakes and OJ?’

Bianca took the paper from him and carefully folded it up. 'Sounds fabulous,’ she said, clearly disappointed.

**********************************

Camille rushed through the foyer of her work, cursing herself for sleeping in. She hadn’t meant to. Usually, she was the first one in the office but not today. Drinks the night before with Olivia and Hana had escalated from 'a glass of wine’ to 'shots and dancing on the bar at 2am! WOOO!’

Camille had decided that she was a fucking idiot.

Camille got to her desk and switched on her computer, hoping her boss hadn’t seen that she had arrived 20 minutes late.

'Morning bitch.’

Camille looked up to see Olivia standing over her with two cups of coffee in her hands. She was looking smug.

'Here,’ Olivia said, handing her a cup. 'Made it specially for you.’

Camille took the coffee gratefully and sipped it. She eyed Olivia.

'You look fresh,’ Camille said. 'How is that fair?’

Olivia smirked. 'I don’t get hangovers. Hangovers are for weaklings.’

A small voice came from opposite Camille’s desk. 'I am not a weakling..’

Hana had her head in her hands. Camille held in laughter when she saw that Hana was also wearing huge sunglasses to hide the evidence.

'Hana Lee, you are wearing sunglasses at work,’ Olivia said. 'You may as well just run through the office screaming that you got off with the bartender last night.’

'I DID NOT GET OFF WITH THAT BARTENDER!’ Hana hissed.

Camille giggled. 'You did, Hana. We saw you.’

Hana groaned. 'I’m trying to forget my bad decision making. Stop making me remember.’

Olivia rolled her eyes and was about to speak to Camille about the 10am meeting but was interrupted by one of the admin assistants who was holding a huge bouquet of red roses.

'Um, Camille..’ the assistant said, clearly nervous to be standing next to Olivia. 'These came for you this morning.’

Camille’s eyes widened as she took the flowers. 'Oh my..’

'They’re beautiful!’ Hana cried.

'Are they from lover boy?’ Olivia asked.

Camille blushed as she read the little note attached.

'I know you’ll be feeling rough this morning. Thinking of you always and forever. Li x’

Olivia dry heaved. 'I swear, he finds any excuse to give you sickening declarations of love.’

Camille rolled her eyes and held the flowers close to her chest. Hana was up from her desk and studying the flowers with a mournful expression on her face.

'How does it feel to be loved that much?’ she asked sadly.

Camille smiled. 'It’s really nice, Hana.’

Olivia sighed. 'And Liam does it again. I swear he’s like a robot that’s come from the factory of perfect fiancé’s.’

'Are you guys still going to Texas?’ Hana asked. 'Is Liam excited?’

'Yeah, he is!’ Camille told them. 'I’ll introduce him to my grandma and if I see Bianca -’

'Who’s Bianca?’ Olivia asked, wrinkling her nose.

'My ex boyfriend’s mom.’

Hana and Olivia stared at Camille. 'Ex boyfriend?’ Hana repeated. 'Um.. you still talk to your ex?’

'No,’ Camille replied. 'I’ve not seen him in.. God, ten years. He won’t be there. He was going to California for college and planned to never go back to the ranch -’

'The ranch..’ Olivia said, unimpressed. 'You dated a fucking cowboy? Really?’

'He was eighteen!’ Camille protested. 'Not a cowboy!’

'What was his name?’ Hana asked.

'Drake,’ Camille said. She hadn’t said his name in ten years and the way her voice cracked as she did so betrayed her. 'Drake Walker.’

*********************************

'Are you gonna talk to her?’ Savannah asked Drake. She was balancing her toddler, Bartie, on her hip while making herself a cup of coffee.

'Talk to who?’ Drake asked, gesturing for Savannah to pass Bartie to him so that his sister could get on with coffee making. Savannah placed her son in Drake’s lap. Bartie shouted with glee. 'Dwaaake!’

'It’s Drake,’ Drake corrected his nephew. 'Drake. Not that hard.’

Savannah cleared her throat. 'Actually it’s Uncle Drake. And you didn’t answer my question. Are you going to talk to Camille when you see her?’

Drake sighed. His arms held Bartie close. 'If I see her, I’ll say hi,’ he told her. 'But I guess she’s gonna be really busy with her fiancé. Besides, we’ve not spoken in years, we might not even talk.’

Savannah shook her head. 'Drake, you were best friends for years. You dated. How could you not talk?’

'Because we’ve got nothing in common anymore,’ Drake replied bluntly, wishing she would just stop talking. 'We’re not friends.’

'You loved her,’ Savannah reminded him.

'Yeah well, look how that ended up,’ Drake bit back. 'She’s getting married, Sav. No point in even looking back, it’s done. Now can we please stop talking about Camille?’

Savannah stopped talking after that. Thank god. Drake didn’t want to be reminded of how things were left between him and Camille. It brought back too much to the surface.

**************************

Camille got home after a long day. All she wanted right now was her bed and Netflix. Letting herself into the apartment she shared with Liam, she hung up her trench coat and padded through to the living room.

She stopped short.

Rose petals decorated the floor, making a pathway across the living room to the balcony outside.

'Uhh.. Liam?’ she called out.

'I’m outside!’

Camille wandered through the living room, following the roses. She could hear Miles Davis playing from speakers and she could smell tomatoes.

Liam was setting the balcony table. Candles were lit up on the balcony and the view of the New York skyline glittered in the distance.

Liam turned to give her a wide smile and held out his hands for her to take. 'Darling!’

Camille smiled and kissed him. 'Hey you. What’s all this?’

Liam grinned. 'What? I can’t surprise my fiancée with her favourite dinner?’

'You’ve used rose petals,’ Camille said. 'This is next level romance. Oh and thank you for the flowers. The girls at work were jealous.’

Liam chuckled and handed her a glass of wine. 'Do they want me to send them flowers?’ he asked. 'Because I could, you know. Complete with a romantic card.’

Camille giggled and wrapped her arms around him. 'No, you’re mine,’ she told him. 'I like getting flowers from you.’

Liam pressed a kiss on the tip of her nose. 'I’ll give you flowers every week until death do us part.’

'How morbid,’ Camille teased.

'Well we are getting married,’ Liam said. 'I plan to spoil you for as long as I live.’

They sat down to feast on spaghetti alla puttanesca. They talked about their day before discussion turned to their upcoming trip to Texas.

'So, are you excited to see your grandma?’ Liam asked.

Camille nodded,sipping her wine. 'Of course. To be honest, bit nervous. I mean, grandma hasn’t met you yet. We’ll, I guess over Skype she has but that’s not really the same..’

Liam and Camille had been dating for a year. They had been too busy with their jobs to visit Texas and Camille’s grandma was too frail to travel to New York herself.

Liam gave Camille a sparkling smile. 'Well, I won you over right?’ he asked. 'I’ll just have to use my charms on Gisele!’

Camille smiled. 'I’m sure she’ll love you.’

Liam grinned and helped himself to more wine. Camille pushed down the unsettling feeling in her stomach. She was excited to see her grandma again - but she was nervous to see the Walkers. Applewood was a small place and it was a guarantee that she would bump into Bianca. She wouldn’t see Drake. He had always told her that as soon as he could, he would leave the ranch and live in a city far away from the stifling environment that was Applewood.

************************

Liam helped Camille lug her giant suitcase down the street towards the taxi that was taking them to JFK. 'We’re only visiting for two weeks,’ he huffed, panting from the exertion.

'True but Applewood is a really social place,’ Camille told him. 'There’s always an event happening. We’re a close knit community and we always get together for events.’

Liam smiled. 'Like what?’

'Like.. Apple bobbing. The summer fairground. The Beaumont Bash.’

Liam’s eyes widened. 'What’s a Beaumont Bash?’

Camille grinned. 'Bertrand and Maxwell Beaumont host their annual summer Bash at their house. It’s huge. They go all out for it. Think fireworks, champagne bottles in bathtubs, DJs..’

'Are they friends of yours?’

Camille nodded. She opened the taxi door and settled inside. 'Maxwell has been my friend since high school,’ she told him. 'He’s amazing. Really kind and so fun. You’ll like him. Bertrand is the older brother. He’s a bit more serious but when he’s partying, he changes. Like, he becomes more camp and extravagant.’ She eyed Liam. 'Yup, Bertrand is definitely going to flirt with you.’

Liam chuckled and gave her a wink. 'Well I am dashingly handsome.’

Camille giggled and snuggled into him as the taxi took them across the bridge.

***************************

The town of Applewood was a small place twenty miles outside of Austin, Texas. The summers were long, too long for high school students who dreamed of moving away as soon as they could.

Drake and Camille had always talked about their dreams. Sat on Camille's grandma's porch with a pitcher of ice cold lemonade between them, they would look out at the fields beyond and make plans. They would go to college and end up in New York. Because they were best friends, of course their plans included each other. There was no other alternative.

Camille couldn't help but be reminded of Drake Walker as the cab drove her and Liam from the airport towards the rural roads that led to Applewood. If Liam thought she seemed quiet on the drive, he didn't say anything. He assumed she was just nervous to see her friends again - and she was. But being back in Texas just reminded her of everything she had left behind.

The cab passed the burger place where she and Drake used to go every Saturday for lunch. They would eat burgers and use the drinks straws to throw spit balls at each other.

The cab passed the park where she and Drake would walk his golden retriever, Clover. Camille had adored that loveable dog. She wondered if Clover was still around. Not that she would see her, Camille reminded herself.

Camille had to keep reminding herself to stop thinking about Drake. He wouldn't be here and even if he was, it wasn't like they would have anything to say to each other. In fact, Camille knew that she had absolutely nothing to say to him.

The cab rolled up the dirt road leading to Camille's grandmother's house. Camille kept her eyes ahead so she could avoid seeing the sign for Walker Ranch. Camille and Drake had been neighbours too. They had a history here, one Camille wished she didn't have to face.

Gisele was waiting for them on the front porch as Camille had texted her when they arrived at the airport to keep her updated of their movements. Camille smiled when she saw her grandmother. Gisele was dressed elegantly, as per usual, in a white trouser suit and comfortable sandals. She always wanted to look her best.

'Mon petit chou!' Gisele squealed, rushing down the steps towards the cab. Camille and Liam clambered out to greet her. The taxi driver deposited their cases and exclaimed when Liam tipped him generously.

Gisele held Camille tightly before stepping back to look at Liam. She raised an eyebrow. 'He is very tall.'

Liam laughed. 'That I am, Miss Montespan. It’s so good to meet you in person at last.’

Gisele positively melted at Liam's politeness. 'You're also very handsome..' she purred.

'Grandma!' Camille scolded her, laughing. 'Stop flirting with my fiancé!'

Gisele waved her hand and took Liam's arm, guiding him to the house. Camille rolled her eyes. 'Uh, help with the suitcases?' she called out.

'In a moment!' Gisele called back. 'I need to show Liam my flowers!' she looked up at Liam. 'I've been growing my own roses. They're beautiful if I do say so myself. Magnifique!’

Liam looked back at Camille and gave her a shrug. He and Gisele disappeared into the house, leaving Camille outside to deal with the luggage.

'Camille Montespan, is that you?!'

Camille turned to see Bianca Walker walking towards her with a huge smile on her face. Camille swallowed and fixed a grin on her face.

'Mrs Walker!'

Bianca held out her arms to pull Camille in for a hug before standing back to study her. 'Well, aren't you a beauty?' she whispered, cupping Camille's cheek. Camille blushed.

'So I hear you're engaged,' Bianca said. 'Where is he?'

Camille blinked. 'Grandma has kidnapped him.. But, uh, how did you know?'

Bianca chuckled. 'The announcement in the paper, silly!'

Camille was very confused. Announcement in the paper.. Oh no. Her grandmother must have done it without consulting her. Masking her realisation, Camille squeezed Bianca's hands. 'Of course!' she cried. 'The announcement. So excited.'

Bianca studied Camille for a long moment. 'You have no clue what I'm talking about, do you?'

Camille sighed. 'No. I take it grandma got carried away and wanted to make it public knowledge? What did it say?'

'I'll show you!' Bianca said, taking her hand to pull her up the road. 'You can tell me all about New York while we walk to the ranch -'

'I really should be getting the cases inside,' Camille tried to say. But Bianca ignored her, chatting away about how she had never been to New York and that her late husband, Jackson, had always wanted to go.

The ranch hadn't changed. The oak tree that Camille had fallen out of when she was six years old was still standing strong. She remembered Drake had tried to fix her arm while crying his eyes out, panicking that they would get in trouble from Jackson. They hadn’t. Instead, Jackson had driven them to the hospital and promised Camille ice cream when she was better.

Bianca pushed Camille inside. The scent of familiarity cloaked Camille's senses. Bianca's favourite paintings were hung up and family photos decorated the sideboard. Camille avoided stealing a glance at them.

'You must be thirsty,' Bianca said. 'Lemonade? OJ? Water?'

'I'm okay -'

'Baby, drink something,' Bianca replied sternly. Defeated, Camille asked for water. Bianca had her sit down at the wooden kitchen table and continued to talk without pausing for breath.

'Ah, here's the announcement!'

Bianca passed Camille the newspaper for her to read. Camille cringed. She hated this sort of thing. She didn't like attention. And it looked like she was bragging, which was even worse.

'What's he like then?' Bianca asked.

'Liam is amazing,' Camille told her. 'He's smart, loving, kind. He works on Wall Street.'

'Very nice,' Bianca murmured. Camille didn't realise that she was comparing Liam to her son.

Camille continued to talk, every word like word vomit. When she was nervous, she over compensated by talking too much.

'He's 28 and he's so nice to everyone, really warm and genuine. Such a generous man -'

'Mom, I'm back!'

Camille stopped talking instantly when she heard a male voice call out from the hallway. Oh god. Oh dear god.

Bianca jumped up and rushed to the kitchen door. 'Drake, guess who's here!'

Camille winced, waiting for impact. She could hear heavy footfall cross the floor and stop at the door.

'Camille?'

Camille looked up to see an older but familiar face staring at her in disbelief.

***************************

Drake stared at Camille who was sitting in his kitchen like she always had when she had been his friend. His heart began to hammer inside his chest and his throat constricted. His mouth felt dry. Very dry. He needed whiskey.

'Hey Drake..' Camille murmured, her eyes wide as she stared at him. 'How are you?'

She looked beautiful. She had always been beautiful but now, she was a woman who had grown into her features and wore them like she was a portrait. Her dark hair tumbled to her shoulders in waves and she was wearing a silk peach blazer on top of a white top and cigarette trousers.

Camille looked elegant and sophisticated. She looked like a New Yorker from the Upper East Side. Drake knew because he had visited New York three years ago. He had wandered around the Upper East Side before realising that it wasn’t the place for him.

'I'm good, you?' Drake replied, his voice tight.

Bianca took this moment to leave them alone. Drake ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat.

'I'm good,' Camille said softly.

This was so awkward.

'I, uh, read you're getting married,' Drake mumbled. 'Congratulations.'

Camille turned red. 'Thank you. Are you.. Seeing anyone?'

Drake shook his head. 'Nah.'

Another silence. Drake wished he could put a fucking gun to his head and end it all now.

*****************************

Camille's eyes roamed over Drake. He was a man now. Of course, she knew he would have been but seeing him like this, older and looking more like Jackson Walker now that he had aged..

His body was solid. His shoulders had broadened and Camille could see the muscles through his denim shirt. He was a little taller now - six foot four it looked like - and the sheer masculinity he conveyed was enough to make her speechless.

But his eyes were the same. Brown that shone green in the light. And his hair was still tousled and hid some of his left eye, almost deliberately as if he wanted to hide. He still stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. Drake the boy was still there, deep down.

'Have you moved back to Texas then or just visiting your mom?' Camille asked.

'I live here,' Drake said. 'I went to college for a semester but uh.. it didn't work out.'

He shifted on his feet. Clearly, he wasn't going to go into detail. But then, why should he? It wasn't her business.

Camille swallowed. 'I should get going,' she said, her voice cracking.

Drake nodded. A hint of relief passed over his features. Camille stood up, aware that Drake was watching her like a hawk. He looked like he was seeing a ghost. Perhaps he was.

They walked together to the front door. 'Good to see you,' Drake said unconvincingly. 'How long are you here for?'

'Two weeks,' Camille replied. 'So I might see you around.'

'Yeah, you could introduce me to your fiance,' Drake suggested, instantly regretting his words.

Stop talking, Walker. As if you want to meet the prick.

Camille nodded, her lips set in a tight line. 'Yeah, you will have to meet him. I bet you guys will become best friends by the end,' she said, trying to be light. She instantly regretted her words.

They are not going to be friends. They couldn't be more different. Get away from the door and go home.

'I'm sure Maxwell will be organising something for all of us to get together again,' Camille said. 'We can catch up.'

Stop fucking talking. Word vomit.

'Yeah, sounds good Montespan,' Drake replied, keeping his voice neutral.

Why the fuck are you calling her by her last name? Do you want to look like a chump?

Camille smiled weakly. 'Okay. Well, see you soon, I guess.'

Drake raised a hand and watched her turn to leave the porch. He continued to watch her as she walked briskly back down the road to her grandma's before he shut the door with a click.

He needed whiskey.

*************************

Camille rubbed her wet eyes fiercely as she strode back to her grandma's house. Why was she getting upset? It had been ten years. A decade. Why was she crying over something that she never really had?

She was tired from the flight, that was all. She would make her excuses and have a quick nap and she would then feel better for dinner and catch ups with Gisele.

Camille could curse Drake Walker. Even after ten years, he still managed to make her feel things. Even after everything he had put her through, he still made her wish things had been different. Even if they weren’t together, she wished they could be friends.

But she couldn't think like that. She was with Liam now. The love of her life. Her fiancé.

Get a grip Camille. You can't cry over something you never really had in the first place.

***************************

Camille managed to steal half an hour to nap. When she awoke, she didn't feel much different.

Maybe she was just hungry.

Gisele had made jambalaya which had been Camille's favourite dish growing up. Pure comfort food. It beat chicken soup in Camille’s unbiased opinion. As Liam exclaimed over how delicious it was and Gisele giggled and blushed, Camille drank wine. Lots of wine.

'So, have you heard that Maxwell is hosting your welcome home brunch tomorrow morning?' Gisele asked, breaking into Camille's thoughts.

Camille blinked in surprise. 'I didn't know that. That's nice of him. Who's all going? Kiara? I need to catch up with her-'

'Yes, Kiara and Penelope will be there,' Gisele confirmed. 'And Madeleine -'

'Ugh, spare me,' Camille interrupted. Liam's eyes widened at her sudden change of tone.

'Who's Madeleine?' he asked.

'A bitch from school who made mine and Drake's lives hell,' Camille said without thinking.

Liam frowned. 'And who is Drake?'

Camille sipped her wine, taking a deliberate moment to gather herself. 'We used to be friends,' she told him. 'But we're not anymore.'

*************************

That night, Drake sloped down to the jetty by the lake and got drunk on whiskey. He needed to dull his mind and get rid of thoughts about Camille.

As the stars twinkled down on the water, Drake tossed back the amber liquid, grateful when the reflections of the stars began to shift and blur.

Seeing her today had only confirmed that they were way past the point of return. Sure, he had never expected to find her sitting in his kitchen, but he had known she would be visiting with her fiancé soon. He knew he had been bound to see her.

He just didn't expect it to be so.. awkward. And different. Stilted. But looking at her today, he had felt his chest tighten, his heart beat a little more rapidly and his breath catch. She made him nervous and unsure, two things Camille had never made him feel before.

God she was beautiful. Stunning, actually.

Was he mourning the loss of their friendship? Absolutely. Was he regretting the way he handled things ten years ago? Of course he was.

Drake tossed back more whiskey and closed his eyes. His mind flashed back to that incredible night on this jetty where he and Camille had laid themselves bare to the other. Drake had lost his virginity to Camille that night. He had told her he loved her. Everything had changed in that one moment.

He wished he hadn't broken her heart. If Drake had one regret in life, it was ruining what they had. He couldn't help but wish that he had done it differently. Maybe they would have stayed together. Maybe he would have been her fiancé instead.

Stop it, Walker, he scolded himself. Don't think like that.

Drake spent the rest of the night drinking until he dragged himself back to the house to bed. He threw himself on his bed, fully clothed, and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

*****************************

'Honey, get up! We've got places to be and people to see!' Bianca called up the stairs. Drake groaned and pulled the pillow over his head.

He had a headache and his mouth felt like something had died in it.

Drake could curse himself. He hadn't been hungover for a long time.

' DRAKE!' Bianca shouted.

' Alright ma, I'm gettin' up! ' Drake shouted back.

'Don't give me cheek!' Bianca replied, her voice rising.

'I'm not giving you - fine, whatever, I can't be fucked..' Drake muttered, rolling out of bed. He took a moment to steady himself before dragging his body out the door towards the bathroom at the end of the hall.

The reflection in the mirror showed how shit he looked. His eyes were red rimmed and his skin grey. What. A. Catch.

He heard Bianca come upstairs, whistling to herself. 'Now, Gisele and Maxwell have very kindly invited us to brunch this morning!' Bianca said, stopping at the bathroom door to talk to him. 'It's for Camille. A welcome home brunch! I'm going to get ready, wanna help me pick a fancy dress? I don't have many but I have this gorgeous floral one I've been saving for a special occasion.. We got to look our best, I mean it's the Beaumont’s for crying out loud.. '

Drake closed his eyes as his mother kept talking. She really had no pause button. Bianca loved to talk - she was loud, opinionated and the human equivalent of a bulldozer.

'Mom, I'm not going.. ' Drake muttered.

Bianca stopped talking. For once.

'What do you mean you're not going?' she asked, her eyes wide. 'Drake, you have to go. It would be rude if you didn't. I know you and Camille aren't exactly friends anymore but you grew up together, you could at least wish her well and congratulate her. And Maxwell is your friend -'

'He's not,' Drake cut in. 'He is more Camille's friend than mine.'

Bianca sighed. 'Nonetheless, you should go. You can give her your well wishes and meet her fiancé. I've heard the Beaumonts throw incredible brunches, I'm curious to see what it's like. Please, baby.'

Drake sighed, knowing he was defeated. His mother never went to these kinds of events. She had always wondered what they were like and now she had an invitation, extended to her by Gisele who had been friendly with Bianca years ago. He couldn't burst Bianca's bubble.

'Fine. What do I have to wear?'

**********************

He had to wear a suit. The suit Bianca forced him to wear had been relegated to the back of his closet. It was slightly too small for him now, considering the last time he wore it was ten years ago at prom. Drake reluctantly wore the suit, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Savannah had jumped out of bed as soon as she heard there was an event happening. She had always been on the fringes of society at school, wishing she was part of the popular girls. She had idolised Madeleine, despite the fact that Madeleine often bullied her brother. Savannah had been insufferable as a teenager. She and Drake had become ships in the night at one point and only now were they close again.

'I wonder what Camille's fiancé is like!' Savannah crowed as she dressed Bartie up in a knitted sweater and trousers. ''Bet he's really rich if he works on Wall Street..'

Drake ignored her to help Bianca get ready.

Bianca wore the floral dress paired with nude kitten heels. She teased her hair into a chignon and deliberated over which handbag to use. Drake could tell she was nervous.

'You look great, mom,' he told her softly. 'Like a movie star.'

Bianca blushed and took Drake's arm. 'Let's go show them what the Walkers are made of.'

*************************************

Camille and Liam stood at the door of Beaumont Manor with Maxwell and Gisele, waiting for guests to arrive. Maxwell was dressed flamboyantly, wearing a blue glittery suit with blue glitter sparkling in his dark hair.

He had been so excited to see Camille again. They had been close in school, having sat together in English class. Maxwell had had dreams of writing a novel and had often neglected his actual studies to write more of his book, much to the annoyance of his teacher.

When he had met Liam, he had clapped his hands in excitement and pulled him in for a hug. Liam had laughed in surprise and complimented his suit. Maxwell had preened.

As their first guests trickled in, Liam and Camille shook their hands and thanked them for coming along. Many people had told Camille that she looked beautiful, stunning, ravishing, chic, all of the adjectives that made her want to throw up. They had all clasped Liam's hand as they greeted him, their eyes widening as they studied his good looks.

Liam looked and smelled expensive. That was the one word everyone who knew him described him as. His suit was always pressed, his hair immaculately quaffed and he wore expensive shoes that were always scrubbed and polished.

And he was a gentleman. Kind, polite and generous. He welcomed everyone with a smile and a 'pleased to meet you', confidence shining from him.

'Ah, the Walkers!' Gisele cried, breaking into Camille's thoughts. She looked down the steps and saw with shock that Bianca, Drake and Savannah - now older and with a baby boy on her hip - were climbing up the steps to greet them.

'Bee, you look stunning!' Gisele cried, reaching out to take Bianca's hands. Her eyes slid to Savannah. 'And Savvy! It's been so long! Who is this handsome boy?'

'This is Bartie,' Savannah replied, smiling.

Camille could feel eyes on her. Drake's eyes. She gathered the courage to look at him now.

He was wearing a suit that was too small for him, she noted with a pang in her heart. She remembered Drake used to hate dressing up. His hair was mussed up and his eyes were red rimmed. Drinking? Lack of sleep?

'Liam, this is Drake Walker,' Camille finally said, her voice steady, looking up at her fiance. 'We were friends at school.'

She could see Savannah narrow her eyes. Ignoring her, Camille smiled up at Liam who was grinning at Drake.

'Pleasure to meet you,' Liam said, holding out his hand to shake Drake's. Drake blinked and held out his hand - the sleeve of his suit jacket rode up his arm, exposing his wrist, showing to everyone how ill fitting the outfit was.

'Likewise,' Drake mumbled. 'Uh, congratulations.'

'We'll chat as soon as we're inside,' Liam told him easily. 'I'm sure you've got lots of stories about my fiancée that will embarrass her!'

Drake cleared his throat. 'Oh I got stories, alright.'

Camille felt her cheeks burn. Drake's eyes flashed to her. She took a chance to look at him; his eyes betrayed no indication of his thoughts.

'Montespan,' he said, bowing his head. She looked away as he took his mother's arm and lead her and Savannah into the Manor.

Liam squeezed Camille’s hand. ‘Well, he seems nice!’

#drake walker #drake walker x mc #the royal romance #trr fanfic #trr au #maxwell beaumont #liam rhys #choices the stories you play

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