Markiplier Imagines

97. The Hangover (2)

This is a remake of an old imagine I wrote over three years ago. I've been writing these for four years with absolutely no regrets. You guys have been nothing but supportive, and for that I am grateful. I love you guys, enjoy.

Also hey, I'm alive. I know it's been a long while!

"You have to — have to — promise me that you will not freak out, scream, or, most importantly, blame me."

• • •

You woke up, opening your eyes as slowly as possible. The blinding light from the window shot right at you, causing your eyes to close shut immediately. You groaned, feeling an incredibly powerful headache begin under your eyes.

What happened last night? You thought. All you remember is going to a bar with Mark to celebrate...

What were you celebrating last night?

You tried opening your eyes again, this time with no blinding light attempting to sneak up on you. You tried sitting up, but when you used your hands for support you felt nothing but excruciating ache in your left wrist.

"Aargh!" You exclaimed in pain. You tried to shake it off but it had only made the pain much more worse.

You looked over to the left side of the bed to see that it was empty. Usually, your boyfriend, Mark, was there but on this particular morning he was missing.

"Mark?" You called out softly. You didn't want the noise to make your head hurt even worse. You were using your elbows for support now, wondering why your wrists felt swollen and close to numb. They weren't stable enough, though, as you fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling above you. Then, you closed your eyes.

Come on, (Y/N), think: What happened last night? Think, think, think!

You heard a couple of soft knocks at the door, causing your eyes to blink open. Using your elbows for support once more, you sat up to find your boyfriend of nearly four years standing in the doorway holding a glass of what looked like seltzer.

His facial expression was soft, delicate and warm. He was wearing nothing but a pair of red flannel pajama pants and a pair of white socks. He was shirtless, revealing his scar from his surgery many years ago. He smiled at you, looking at you with affection.

"Hey, baby. How's my girl feeling?" He asked, walking into the room. You began to feel your elbows grow weak again, so you attempted to use your entire body to sit up.

Mark laughed at this.

"Ugh, it's not funny! My wrists are in so much pain and I don't even know why, my head feels like it may explode at any moment, my breath tastes like martinis and shrimp, and I think I may throw up sometime in the near future!" You explained as quietly as you can, trying not to activate the headache caused by your hangover.

Mark giggled, handing you the glass of seltzer water. "Here, drink." He commanded, taking a spot next to you on the bed. "Now, I'll tell you what happened last night on one condition."

You raised one eyebrow, swallowing some of the seltzer. "What's that?" You asked, intrigued. Did you really go that crazy last night?

"You have to — have to — promise me that you will not freak out, scream, or, most importantly, blame me." Mark said.

You sighed.

He knew you so well.

"Fine. Just tell me the story."

"Okay." He began. "So we were out at the bar. I was drinking soda, you were starting off with a martini. We were celebrating you getting one million subscribers on your channel."

"I knew we were celebrating something!" You said softly, clutching your head.

"You had a second martini, which, I didn't stop; We were celebrating, and plus, it was only two martinis. I left to go to the bathroom. I come back, and I see you downing a shrimp cocktail."

"That explains the shrimp breath." You chimed in, sort of ashamed for letting yourself get carried away. Mark helped you lean up against the headboard of the bed so you could retain the story better.

"I went to take the glass away from you but you climbed on top of the bar!" Mark continued. Your eyes widened. "I climbed in my high heels?" You asked. Mark nodded;

"Mmhm! You drew so much attention to yourself! I tried to get you down as gently as possible but-"

"I fell!" You finished his sentence. "That's why my wrists hurt so much!" You said, finally putting the pieces together. Mark nodded yet again.

"Yup! You fell. That's when I decided that you've had enough. I took your heels off, helped you up, and threw you over my shoulder. But you got violent."

"I what?!" You exclaimed as quietly as possible. Mark stroked your hair, trying to calm you down a bit.

"You got violent!" Mark repeated. "You kept kicking and scratching me; You even bit me!"

You felt your face turn hot a bit. "I-I'm sorry..." You said. "I don't even remember any of that."

"(Y/N), it's okay! You were totally hammered. That wasn't you. Anyway, we made it to the car. I put you down for just a second so I could find my keys, and you just ran off!" Mark continued.

"Oh my God, Mark I'm so sorry!" You apologized. "Where did I go?"

"After about an hour of looking, I found you outside of a jewelry store nearly a mile over! You were looking at the display window." Mark answered.

"Anything good?" You asked. Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out a heart-shaped ring made with amethyst. "Look familiar?" He asked, handing it to you.

"Aw! You bought it for me?" You said, trying it on your middle finger. Mark nodded;

"Mhm! As soon as the store opened. Thank goodness you were still asleep." He kissed your forehead gently as to not reactivate your migraine from earlier, which had slowly faded during the story. "Thank you, baby!" You said, pecking his lips. "So, what happened after you found me at the jewelry store?"

"Well, I brought you back home and you fell asleep in the car. I carried you inside and tucked you in."

You smiled;

"Thank you, Mark."

"Don't thank me, cause I would do it again."