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#and now I have to call out because I’m trapped at home in the ice XD
deadlittledogs · 9 months
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This winter storm is BRUTAL. Today is my second day with no power but thankfully we have a generator so the fridge is back up and running and I have plenty of TV to watch! No heating in the house so I dragged the spare mattress to be next to the wood stove and hung up curtains to trap the heat in (and so the pitch black windows looking in don’t give me nightmares).
I tried to put the freezer food outside in a bag and some animal fuckers ate the frozen meat out of it while I slept!!! What the hell!!!! There’s blood all over the place so they musta been fighting over my 15$ bag of maple sausage like crazy. I bet it was the coyotes...argh... I hope they enjoyed it because next time I’m going to wait and shoot their tails cleans off...
Mostly I’m just bored and tired…. I’m drawing a bunch….. mostly cringe…… the power was bad earlier in the week as well and it makes my sleep restless so I’m so exhausted. I need my creature comforts (;ω;) !!!
My dad stopped by today to drop off some provisions so I should be set for two more days at the least. Let's keep our spirits high with some grilled chicken and a lots of blankets!!!! ^^
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
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When Eddie’s terrified, he feels cold—and it’s not a mild thing, not just goosebumps on his arms. It’s violent shivers: his breath catching as ice forms in his lungs, crystallising up his throat until he can barely talk.
It was bad at the middle school talent show: stuck in the wings with fellow students pressed up against him, all jostling for space. He should’ve been sweating.
And technically he was, but it was as if his brain hadn’t checked in with his body or maybe the other way round, and he kept biting down hard on his tongue as his teeth chattered.
A teacher noticed and even asked if he was feeling sick, if he wanted to be sent home.
He shook his head, felt his legs shaking; Jeff had to speak for him until it was finally the band’s turn on stage, and the ice thankfully thawed enough for him to sing.
But right now he thinks the ice is here to stay.
He’s sat back in the boat, the tarp tangled up by his feet; he can’t stop one knee from bouncing up and down erratically. He knows he isn’t really shaking because of the literal cold, but it doesn’t exactly help that it’s damp as hell in here.
He���s not alone—he’s still surrounded by quite possibly the most random group of people in history. Dustin’s leading the conversation, which has devolved into Max teasing him about some girl called Suzie.
Eddie suspects the change of tone is deliberate, that these kids who are somehow well-versed in a literal fucking war have an admirable intuition; have sensed that he needs a cool down after learning about an evil alternate dimension. Kinda like what he does if he watches a horror movie late at night—makes sure to read some light-hearted crap before he goes to sleep, so the scary shit isn’t the last thing on his mind.
Eddie appreciates the thought. If he wasn’t still repressing shivers, he might even find it sweet.
But the chatter isn’t helping.
He can’t grab a hold of it, the sounds slipping away before he can make sense of them; his mind keeps drifting away, and he’s suddenly stuck on the thought that he can’t remember what Chrissy’s last words to him were. He can hardly even recall what her laugh sounded like in the woods—like everything about her has been trapped underwater, stifled beyond all recognition.
He let her die, and he can’t even manage the decency of remembering her. What the fuck is wrong with him?
He exhales shakily. Neither Max or Dustin seem to notice, which both relieves him and sets his teeth on edge.
His lungs are tight, but he still feels a sudden urge to talk—for once wishes that he’d just bite his tongue instead.
Something’s cracking deep inside him.
He’d thought his breaking point had been reached long ago, but it keeps getting worse; as the kids talk, he can’t avoid the fact that they’ve already watched him profoundly lose it, and shame spreads from the pit of his stomach—merges with the ice, culminating in a bitter wave of self-loathing.
Leave me alone, he desperately wants to say, but he knows it’ll just come out in a scream, knows it’ll sound like he’s furious. That’s always been the way of things, at least for him: deep-seated fear hiding underneath anger.
He opens his mouth. His teeth are clacking together.
He manages to temper the feeling right at the brink so that all he says is, “D-don’t you assholes have a bed time?”
“Oh, that’s cute,” Dustin says, over the sound of Max scoffing.
Please go, just fucking go, I’m gonna fall apart and I don’t want you to see it, not again.
“Yeah, well I have a bedtime, so let’s get outta here, dickheads,” Steve says.
He sounds dry, borderline snippy. But his eyes fleetingly meet Eddie’s as he speaks, like he’s heard him somehow. Like he understands.
Dustin stands with some customary grumbling, pulling Max up with him.
“Night, Eddie. It’ll be okay,” he says, so optimistic—with an unshakeable courage that Eddie has never once possessed.
Eddie attempts a smile. Has no idea if he succeeds.
Robin’s already standing, walking off behind Dustin and Max—but then she spins, doubles back on herself; Eddie jumps at the sudden movement.
“Water!” she says, “I’ve got some in the car, you should—hang on, Eddie.”
“I’m—I’m fine, I don’t need…” Eddie’s voice is hoarse, fades out on him. He coughs, tries again, slightly louder, “I said I don’t need it!”
But Robin’s already too far away to hear him.
The quiet rustle of a jacket: Steve is still here.
Eddie lunges forward as quick as he can. His hand clasps around Steve’s wrist.
“Harrington, seriously, tell her not to bother, man. I’ll—” He swallows. “I’ll just throw it back up.”
It’s almost too dark to see, but Eddie swears Steve’s eyes are flickering over his face. He doesn’t know what he’s seeing. Doesn’t think he wants to know the answer.
“Dude, you need to drink, at least,” Steve says finally. He gently tugs himself free—stepping back with an apologetic air, slowly enough that Eddie doesn’t startle. “Gimme a sec.”
He’s back in under a minute, passing Eddie a bottle of water with the cap already off.
Eddie drinks. Despite his protesting, he knows it’s for the best; his head is pounding. He spills the water more than once; his hand is trembling.
Steve doesn’t mention it.
“I can get you some food,” he says.
Eddie shakes his head. “I ate before. Not hungry.”
He’s telling the truth, although he can’t remember what he ate. Can’t remember much of anything.
Steve doesn’t look very happy with that response. His frown is audible when he asks, “Don’t you have a blanket or something?”
Eddie laughs, horribly false. “Why, Harrington? Wanna tuck me in?”
Steve doesn’t answer.
Eddie wants him to retaliate with what he deserves: cutting words. Wants Steve to throw out something cruel, then leave him be.
No. That’s not…
He wants… he wants…
“Don’t move,” Steve says. “I’ll be right back.”
Eddie laughs again—a little more genuine. “Can’t exactly go anywhere.”
He doesn’t know how long Steve takes. He loses track of time after the sound of the car reversing fades away; the darkness stretches out before him, and his fingers flex, tremulous, and he almost starts to believe that no-one’s found him after all, that he’s alone, that he’ll always be—
The soft crunch of tires rolling over gravel. The twin clunks of a car door being opened then closed, not too loudly, followed by even footsteps. Slow. Safe. And Eddie hears Steve singing, quiet enough that he can’t really decipher the lyrics.
He doesn’t know why he recognises it, why it’s so familiar. But he understands why Steve is doing it, the realisation burning in his throat: that Steve is signalling his approach, so Eddie knows it’s him.
“Hey,” Steve says, and there’s a gentle kind of thud—something being dropped by Eddie’s feet. Then the soft press of fabric behind him: a pillow.
Eddie manages to shift his feet a bit. More fabric. It’s a blanket.
“I just thought, like, two layers, y’know?” Steve is saying. “Not ideal with the tarp, but it should trap more heat compared to…” Eddie’s throat tightens even more. It’s so… so fucking kind.
“Thanks,” he manages.
“Hey,” Steve says again, softer—a hand lands on Eddie’s knee; his palm is warm. “You’re okay.”
Eddie realises belatedly that he’s crying again. For a little while, it just feels automatic, as if he’s detached from the tears; Steve gives him space, working around him.
And Steve’s not tucking him in really, just sort of shaking out the blanket, but he lets it fall with intention—smoothes out the creases when it gathers around Eddie’s knees.
Eddie doesn’t know what changes, just knows that he’s abruptly aware of the silent tears building into something more. There’s a false jagged sensation of something getting caught in his chest as he swallows, and he gasps, inhales sharply—once, twice; feels that panicked stutter to his breath, like when he was a kid failing at treading water.
Steve crouches by the side of the boat.
“You’re okay,” he repeats. He’s rubbing his throat ever so slightly while he says it—doesn’t seem aware that he’s doing it.
“I’m s—” Eddie chokes on the words again, a distressed hum cutting through instead. “I’m s-sorry.”
“Eddie, it’s—”
Eddie points to Steve’s throat. “C-could’ve—mm, mm. Could’ve been bad.”
He remembers the feeling of Steve’s skin against the shard of glass, remembers his stupid shaking hands—so close, too close to blood being spilled.
Just a hair’s breadth away from…
It could’ve happened so easily. Two deaths on his conscience.
“Eddie,” Steve says calmly. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t have let you.”
It’s not a threat. It’s a reassurance.
His hand falls away from his neck, as if making a point.
Eddie stares and stares—and it’s definitely too dark to tell if there’s a bead of blood on Steve’s skin, but his mind does the work for him.
Vivid, wet. It wouldn’t stop. Chrissy. Her eyes…
The ice freezes over completely, stops up his throat.
Eddie can’t breathe.
“Yeah, you can,” someone’s saying, “hey, it’s gonna pass, it’s gonna pass, okay? I’m just gonna…”
A snap.
Eddie flinches, cries out with a wordless noise of anguish.
Through the roaring in his ears, he hears, “Shit,” before a contrite whisper of, “Sorry, sorry.”
Steve. Steve’s here, guiding his hands until they’re cupped around something.
Something warm.
It starts the thaw, draws air back into Eddie’s lungs. His head clears a little. He knows where he is. Wishes he wasn’t…
He wants someone to tell him that Chrissy didn’t suffer, that she didn’t feel anything.
No.
He wants someone to wake him up, to tell him it was just a nightmare, that he can go home; he wants the universe to rearrange itself so that Chrissy never even met him—that the only trouble she ever has to deal with is which shoes to wear with her graduation robes.
“I want,” he gets out, “I want—”
“I know,” Steve says.
His hands are still wrapped around Eddie’s.
And Eddie senses the source of the heat now, a packet of some kind.
A hand-warmer.
He manages to take a proper breath, deep enough that he can smell the pillow Steve has given him; it doesn’t smell of the detergent Wayne uses, but it smells like a home at least. The dip in the middle makes him suspect that Steve’s brought the pillow from his own bed.
Eddie breathes in again. Out.
“There you go,” Steve murmurs.
Gradually the warmth against Eddie’s palms brings about a repeatedly suppressed, bone-deep tiredness. His eyes are stinging with it, and he feels like the boat’s been pushed out onto the lake; he sways forward without meaning to.
“Sorry,” he says, tongue thick.
He lifts his head to find Steve looking at him intently, brow furrowed.
“You should lie down,” Steve says quietly. “You look exhausted.”
Eddie does, turns onto his side so he can still just about see over the side of the boat. But…
“I won’t sleep,” he tells Steve through a sigh. He’s not arguing the point; it just seems inevitable.
Steve shrugs. “Just shutting your eyes is better than nothing,” he says casually enough, but it sounds too knowing, like he’s speaking from experience.
Eddie wonders what Steve sees when he falls asleep.
Steve stands up slowly. Hesitant.
“I’m—um. I’m sorry,” he says. “I’d stay, believe me, but I just—I don’t want the car here too long in case someone…”
“Go, Harrington,” Eddie says, hopes it comes out as gentle as he means it to be. “You’re the taxi service.”
Steve smiles. “We’ll be back,” he says. “Tomorrow, okay? I promise. We’ll bring food.”
“Tomorrow,” Eddie echoes. Tries and fails to push down a yawn. “Food.”
It’s not so bad, listening to Steve walking away. Eddie’s eyes close, burn with relief; in his head he follows along with the sound of Steve’s footsteps as they get more and more distant.
Car door opening. Closing. Seems farther away than before. His head is heavy.
He doesn’t expect to fall asleep. But he does his best to keep his thoughts on something light anyway. Maybe the continual warmth between his hands helps, ensures he doesn’t spiral back down to… to…
It comes to him fuzzily: why he recognised Steve singing in the first place.
Last summer, going to the mall to catch a movie, walking past an ice-cream parlor and hearing…
It was an unselfconscious kind of singing—no tension in the high notes. The sort usually done alone.
And do you feel scared? I do. But I won't stop and falter.
Eddie glanced over. Steve had been mopping, head down, but he looked up suddenly—for a moment, Eddie worried that he had been spotted. But then he watched the surreal sight of a group of children walking all over the wet floor, Steve beckoning them onward with fond exasperation.
He tapped at his wrist. “You’re cutting it fine tonight. Through the back, round the—”
“We know,” came an already distant chorus.
Steve rolled his eyes.
“And if anyone hears about this—”
“We’re dead!”
A door shut—alone again, Steve shook his head to himself. Smiled.
And if we threw it all away. Things can only get better.
Eddie remembers thinking that his voice wasn’t all that bad. It was nice.
It was…
Eddie wakes up warm.
The sight of the tarp disorients him for a few seconds—but he’s too sleepy to be panicked. The blanket against his jeans feels perfectly heavy. Keeps him still. Keeps him…
He thinks he must unintentionally drift off again; when he comes to, he feels that the hand-warmer he’s holding has gone cold. His feet knock against something, and he opens his eyes enough to see that Steve’s left more pouches. He takes one, hums when he cracks it so he doesn’t hear the…
It’s another day. He’s still here, damp wood against his back. A pillow beneath his head.
He knows the nightmare hasn’t stopped; Chrissy is still dead.
But there’s things he can touch, hold onto—evidence that he’s not been left alone, not really. He knows that Steve will come back. They all will.
His hands are warm.
And that’s something.
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violetsandfluff · 2 years
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Broken Ring
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“They won’t have to cut it off, right?” you whimpered, feeling your lower lip tremble as you gazed forlornly at the glistening gem on your ring finger. Your doctor assured you that swelling in hands and feet was common during pregnancy, but it still shocked you when you couldn’t wiggle your ring past your knuckle.
You called Harry in a panic, explaining tearfully that the ring was stuck on your finger.
“I’ll be home in thirty,” he consoled you. “Put some ice on it ‘til I get back, okay? Don’t worry about it, lovie. It will all work out.”
You followed his instructions, icing your inflamed finger diligently until he got home. Paying such close attention to your ring brought you back to the day Harry had proposed to you.
The sunlight streaming through the trees overhead and the sound of the water lapping at the shore was permanently etched in your mind. Harry had been so young, only twenty years old at the time of his proposal. Now he was almost thirty, and proud to be expecting his first child.
“I didn’t expect you to be home so soon,” you sniffled as he walked into the kitchen, scooping you out of your chair and into his lap.
“Neither did the cops,” he joked. “Let’s see your little finger. Did the ice help?”
You removed the wad of ice and soaked washcloths from your hand only to find your finger more swollen and purple than you had left it.
“Ouch,” Harry said softly, tracing his finger over the bruised skin. “It’s hot to the touch, dove. Is it painful to touch?”
You shook your head slowly, a wave of tears threatening to spill out of your eyes and onto your cheeks.
“Try to twist it off,” he suggested. “Slowly, gently, like a Chinese finger trap.”
You tried to twist the ring off fruitlessly, every ounce of hope in your body dwindling. Harry’s face twisted in dismay as it became obvious that the ring wasn’t budging.
He tried oiling the skin, icing it more, and even wrapping it with dental floss, but nothing could help the ring over your swollen knuckle.
You had never dreamed that the ring you grew to love and treasure so much would meet its end at the mercy of a jewelry saw at urgent care. It was of utmost importance to you because of all of the memories it held. Now it was just a severed stone and band in the bottom of a clear Ziplock bag that you gripped as if your life depended on it.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Harry murmured into your hair as you clutched the accessory to your chest and leaned into him for solace. “I’ll buy you another ring, whichever one you want.”
“But…” you stuttered, “it’s not the same.”
“You can keep this forever,” Harry said. “We can get the diamond changed into a necklace or even put on a different band.”
“It feels like a broken promise,” you argued. “I’m never without my wedding ring.”
“All you need is right here,” Harry finalized, tapping your chest ever so slightly. “You’ve got every part of me right there, forever and always.”
Taglist: @madybeth21 @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @groovychaosavenue @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cayleyhannha-blog @whitemancumslut @xxrosebunny @hsdaydreaminghaze
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seireitonin · 6 months
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I just saw your fic/hc of if toby had kids, it's so good btw!! :3
I'm in a mischievous mood, how would he react if one of/both of the kids died? Like he took his eyes off them for one second. I feel like because they most likely live in a forest setting, it would be something like going on a lake when it's iced over and then falling through.
This is so sad omg :( but let me try my best (you really want to sob huh?😭)
Toby If His Kids Died
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He’d never ever recover
He’d never ever ever EVER forgive himself
He looked away for one second
Just one
But that second is all it took
The ice was thin and his kids not knowing any better, stood on it together, falling in
Toby heard the sound of the ice breaking and the two loud splashes
He turned around as quickly as he could only to see the open hole where they once were
Trapped under the ice as Toby tried to get them out
He was too late
He pulls them out and does everything he could
CPR, shaking them softly, calling out there names
“Please…wake up…please…please…please! Talk to me! Open your eyes! Please….i need you…I love you! Your dad needs you! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
When they don’t respond it destroys him
He hits the ground, screams and sobs
Just truly broken
Out of everything that he’s been through in his life, this was the most painful, unbearable, heart shattering thing he’s ever been through
His world was gone in a second
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! I love you! I failed you! I’m so sorry”
He sobs out as he hugs them to his chest, wishing they’d hug him back, and tell him they’re okay
Their skin, freezing cold, their clothes, soaking wet
He carries them home, putting them in their beds, trying to warm them up, one last time
How was he going to face his significant other?
He meets them at the front door, falling to his knees and hugging their legs, ear piercing sobs
“They’re gone…they’re gone”
“W-what?!”
“They fell in the lake and got trapped in the ice! I was too late! I-“
He can’t continue, falling victim to his sobs
His significant other, starts to scream and sob along with him, pushing Toby off in anger
“This is your fault! This is your fucking fault!”
They’re just confused and angry and full of grief like he is
“Why weren’t you watching them?! How could you let this happen?!”
“I turned away for one second! It was a second! One second! I promise!”
“Look what it cost us! Look what you did! You destroy everything you fucking touch!”
“Please….im sorry! I’m sorry!”
He couldn’t even say that wasn’t true
Every person he loved, every person who depended on him, he’s let die
Lyra is dead. His mom was probably dead. Now…his children….are gone
He’s a failure. And everyone around him had to pay the price
His significant other, and Toby bury them on a hill, where they all had a picnic once.
They put their favorite toys on the graves, saying goodbye to their bundles of joy
Life is unfair, huh?
Toby and his partner try to stay together
But they could never look at Toby the same way
They wouldn’t look Toby in the eyes or in the face
They could only see their children in Toby’s features
Toby tried to touch them, to hold them, to comfort them
He could hear them, sobbing quietly in the night with their back turned to him
The guilt eats him alive
But they didn’t want Toby’s touch, not ever again
Their meals were silent
They exchanged minimal words
What do you say? What do you do?
They couldn’t take it anymore
They packed all their things and had one final conversation with the man they once had a life with
“Toby…”
“Please…no”
“Toby….i can’t do this anymore…. I can’t”
“Please….stay”
“I love you, Toby. But I can never forgive you.”
“Don’t…”
“Our children’s empty rooms are up there. I can’t….stay. Every where I turn….I see them. It’s like they’re haunting us. I can’t stay here, Tobias. Neither should you.”
“Please! You’re all I have left! I….please! You’re all I have left…”
“You lost me a long time ago. Goodbye. Tobias”
They were gone, just like that
It’s just Toby in this empty home
A home once filled with love and joy was now filled with grief and pain
He started to have a tic attack
And no one was here to help him through it
He sobs out again, the reality hitting him harder and harder with every passing second
With no one around
He starts to have hallucinations again
He sees the ghosts of his children, like he saw the ghost of Lyra
“Why didn’t you save us?”
“I tried! I tried! You know I…I love you!”
“Then why did you let us die?!”
“Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop!”
He started picking and chewing at his fingers, pulling his hair, hitting himself in the head
Old habits from when he was 17
He turns to alcohol
He made a promise to never be like his dad
He’s sticking to it in his own way
He can never abuse his family. He has no family
He’s often drunk most of the time now
Sometimes just so he can sleep
But even when he sleeps all he can hear is the ice breaking, the ice cold water, the last moments of his kids
Masky and Hoodie find him in his home
“Toby. You have to start coming on missions again. We can’t keep covering for you. You know what Slenderman will do to you if you don’t”
“Let him kill me. I don’t care. I died a long time ago”
He takes another swig from his bottle as he talks to them, slurring a bit
“He should’ve…let me die….when I was 25”
��You can’t even stand can you?”
“Fuck you! Fuck you!”
He starts to scream
“My family is gone! I lost my family, TWICE! You think I care about missions anymore?! You think I care about anything anymore?! Huh?! I dont give a fuck about my life!”
Masky lets out a sigh
“You know, you always were emotional. Although, I kinda miss when you were a hyper and upbeat annoying little shit. I wonder if your children were the same?”
Toby immediately pulls his hatchets out and starts swinging, sloppy, but still dangerous
“Don’t you ever fucking talk about them!”
Hoody catches his arms and pushes him back on the couch
“He didn’t mean it like that.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’ll kill him!”
“You can’t even stand up straight”
The room was spinning. He wasn’t wrong
“Just…let me die. Let me die…here”
They look at him
He’s malnourished. His skin paler than ever. His self inflicted wounds, just open because no one was there to help patch him up. The dark circles under his eyes, prominent. His eyes themselves, hollow and empty
Masky warms up some instant noodles from the cabinet
“Eat. Now”
“Fuck you”
“Toby. Please” Hoodie says, concerned
He reluctantly takes it and eats slowly unable to finish, putting it on the table in front of him
“See that…toy truck over there?”
He points to a red toy pickup truck, untouched and in the same place his son left it.
“That was my son’s favorite. He told me…he liked it so much….because it looked like….mine.”
He points to a doll with fluffy brown hair
“See that? My daughter….loved it…said it had hair like me”
He can’t take it anymore. He starts to sob. He doesn’t even care about looking tough anymore
“Fuck! They’re gone! They’re gone!”
Toby puts his head in his hands and just sobs
What else could he do?
This was his first time talking about it with someone else
They sit with him, putting their hands on his shoulders, comforting him
They didn’t always get along though out the years
But they could put that aside for something like this
“Brain. You died. Brought back by….Slenderman. How do you feel?”
He already knew what Toby was implying
“Don’t even think about it Toby. I may be alive again. But my body isn’t mine anymore and I’m a slave to Slenderman. You know that. You don’t want that for your children. They’ll belong to him and have a life of suffering. So…let them rest”
It was selfish thinking on Toby’s part. But he’d do anything to have them back
But he knew better. He wouldn’t actually go through with that idea
Toby’s mood swings are worse than ever
Extreme sadness, to extreme numbness to extreme anger
That’s it
He couldn’t feel happiness anymore
It died with his kids
It left with his significant other
Constant panic attacks
Constant nightmares
Constant hallucinations
And besides the occasional visit from Masky and Hoodie
He was alone
And….maybe it’s better this way
The words ring in his head every day
“You destroy everything you fucking touch!”
A shell of a person
Doesn’t leave his house anymore, unless it’s to visit his children’s graves
Hopes he’ll see his ex partner there one day
Wants to ask if they have nightmares too and if they still wake up and think of the life they had together
Wants to end his own life, but was cursed with immortality or at least long lasting life
He wants nothing more than to see his family again
Both of them
Blames himself every day
Will literally never not blame himself
He will never move on or be happy again
So he spends his days in the empty home, looking at once was
“Please….forgive me. I love you.”
He holds a picture of his kids to his chest as he falls asleep into another nightmare
Not that real life was any better
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charlesswife · 1 year
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Una Noche En Mónaco iii
Mateo con Una T - part ii
unem masterlist
pairing: charles leclerc x latina! reader
summary: after a one night stand between you and charles, he continues on with his formula one career. until two months later, you come back claiming to be pregnant with his child.
warning: charles is an asshole, likeeeeeee proceed with caution. angstttt (i tried my best lmao)
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This is the last piece of flashback you guys need to know, everything else you will find out as the story continues 🤭🤭
May 2018
“Charles Leclerc is a fucking asshole and I never wanna see him again,” I said as I got into the car. I took a deep breath and wiped my tears. 
“Why? What happened?” Steph asked, “Are you okay? What did he do? Do we kill him?” 
I looked at her and told her what happened. 
He told me to talk in the living room to talk. He was pretty chill. 
“So…” I started, “Um… I’m just gonna be straightforward with you,” I see him nod, I took a deep breath and said, “I’m pregnant.” 
He started at me for a second and said, “Really? Congrats! I didn’t know you were with someone already! You could’ve just told me this on the phone,” he laughed, “You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that. Good for you!” 
What? 
“No, Charles. I’m pregnant… with your child.” His smile slowly faded away. 
“Nope, I don’t think so.” 
“What? What do you mean ‘you don’t think so’?” I asked him. 
He got up from his sofa and started pacing around the room, “Question. Do you know who I am?” 
“Charles… Leclerc?” 
“And do you know what I do?” 
“You… race?” 
He stopped pacing and said, “Yup. Not mine.” 
“But it is!” I told him. 
“No,” He said again, this time more aggressive, “And do you know how I know this? Because why else would you come here to tell me this four days before the race? Either someone put you up for this, to mess me up or you are a con artist. So which one is it?” 
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” I shamed my head. 
“I don’t? Please, you are not the first one that has tried this trick on me. I don’t even remember your name!” he yelled, “And even if it’s true, what do you want me to do? You want me to love you? To marry you? I would never marry someone like you! How even old are you?” 
“I’m eighteen…” I murmured. 
“HA!” he laughed, “You probably got knocked up by some random dude and now you wanna blame it on me! The famous Formula One driver! What do you want from me? Is it money? Is that what you want?” He really knows how to hurt people with words. 
My eyes started to burn, “I don’t need money from you,” I told him. Tears started to roll down my cheek, “I just want you to be there… for us.” My voice broke. 
“Oh please, don’t do this, with your crocodile tears” He rubbed his face with his hands, “Besides, you don’t even look pregnant at all!”
I lifted my hoodie, showing my baby bump, and his eyes widen a bit. “We had sex on March, you would be at least two months along” 
“Eleven weeks,” I corrected him. 
“Eleven weeks, right? You look bigger than eleven weeks. You probably got pregnant before me and you’re trying to baby-trap me!” He yelled. But he was right, I’ve seen pictures online of women being eleven weeks pregnant, and I am bigger than them. 
“No, that’s not true at all! Charles, you were my first time!”
“Wow,” he said in a sarcastic way, “Lucky me. Do you think I’m going to believe any of this? Do you think I’m that stupid?” 
“So this asshole basically called you a baby-trapper, manipulator, gold digger, whore?” Steph was mad, and she had every right to be. 
I stayed quiet for a second, technically he did, but he didn't use those exact words. 
“Steph, let’s just go home” 
April 2023
“Mateo come here so I can put sunscreen on you!” My kid dropped his little toy and came to me, “We’re going to go to the bookstore and then get some ice cream. Does that sound good, Mati?” 
“Yummy!” he yelled. 
After I was done applying sunscreen he started to jump around the apartment yelling “Ice cream! Ice cream.” 
“Okay Mateo Alexander, let’s go” 
The car rides with Mateo are always fun. He points at all the cars he sees or sings whatever is on the radio — he doesn’t know the songs but he likes to pretend he does. 
Once we got to the bookstore, I got him out of the child seat and walked into the store with him in my arms. I approached the register and greeted Steph. 
“Pascale is here,” she said. “She finally came with her two sons, I didn’t see their faces though.” 
I rolled my eyes, “I’m going to check the store, keep an eye on Mateo, and don’t give him candy,” I warned her, she put her hands up in defense, “We’re getting ice cream later and you know how he gets if he has too much sugar in his system.” 
Mateo yelled, “Ice cream!” 
I laughed a bit as I was leaving. As I walked around the store, I helped a few customers here and there. 
I was organizing a shelf when I heard my name. “Y/n?” My heart dropped to the floor. I turned around but I saw no one. Am I hallucinating or did I hear the voice of Charles Leclerc in my store, calling my name? “Oh sorry, I thought you were someone I know.” The voice came from the other side of the bookshelf. 
I speed walked to another section of the store as I was texting Steph “Code Red, you know who is here. Get Mateo.” As I hit send, my body collided with someone else’s. The person grabbed me by the arms so I wouldn’t fall back. 
“Wow!” The male voice said. “What’s the rush? Are you okay?” The first thing that I noticed was his blue eyes and then his thin lips. 
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “I would’ve seen where I was going,” 
“It’s all good,” he said. “More than good.” He let go of me. 
We stayed quiet for a quick second, “I’m sorry to be so straightforward but you are very beautiful, like breathtaking beautiful.”
Oh
“I’m Arthur, by the way,” he extended his hand towards me. I took it. 
“Y/n,” I introduced myself. 
“Y/n,” he repeated. “Do you work here, Y/n? So I know if I should come back again,” he laughed. 
“I own this store,” I told him. “I’m usually here on the weekends,” As I said that, my phone beeped
Steph - I can’t find Mateo. 
“Umm… It was nice to meet you Arthur but I have some stuff to take care of,” I said as I walked away. 
“Wait! Can I get your number?” He yelled a bit. 
“Come back next week and we should see!” I waved goodbye. What’s wrong with me? I need to find Mateo and get out of here before He sees him. 
Charles POV
“It’s so nice to spend the day with my two boys, you guys are always so busy” 
“Yeah, too bad Enzo couldn’t be here,” Arthur said. 
“It’s fine, he’ll come next time,” Maman said. 
Maman decided to take Arthur and me to her new favorite bookstore because “we needed to go there” I opened the door for her. 
“What a gentleman, thank you, Charles,” She said. 
“Yeah, thank you Charles” Arthur mimicked her. 
The bookstore had a whole different vibe from the inside, it was like stepping into a new world. We were greeted by a Taylor Swift song that surprisingly I recognized. I Knew You Were Trouble. 
“You guys go walk around, I’m going to the café,” Maman said, as Arthur and I were walking away, she spoke again. “soy Charles, don’t go too far. You have to meet this girl, she’s so sweet and she has this kid who is a literal angel. He reminds me of you actually. A lot.” With that, she walked away. I looked at Arthur, who only shrugged. 
As I walked around the shelves I saw a very familiar figure. 
Is that…? “Y/n?” The lady turned around. It was someone else. Something in my heart wanted to be Y/n. “Oh sorry,” I apologized. “I thought you were someone I know” 
The lady left and soon after a small kid walked by, he was looking from side to side. 
“Are you lost?” I asked him. He stopped walking and turned around. I held my breath for a second. 
“No,” he said. “My mommy works here.” He turned around and was about to leave, but I didn’t want him to leave. 
“What’s your name?” I asked him. 
“I’m Mateo with one T,” he put one finger up. “What’s- umm” he took a long pause for a second. “You?”
I laughed a bit. “I’m Charles.” 
A big beep sounded and then the music at the store stopped. 
“Mati come to the front please.” 
“That’s me,” the kid said and then he left running. He stopped for a second and came back walking. “Goodbye.” He gave me a tiny wave and left walking again. 
I felt my phone vibrate and when I took it out I saw a new message from Arthur 
King Arthur: I think I just met the love of my life 🥴❤️
Me: 🤣🤣 in what? five minutes? 
King Arthur: Sometimes you look at someone and you just know, brother. 
Me: I know you are crazy 🤣🤣 
————————————————————
👀👀👀🫣 I APOLOGIZE FOR MY LATE POST AHHHHH but how good was this?! I wanna hear your thought and theories!! What do you guys think is going to happen next? 👀👀
I’ll edit it properly later on after work, but here’s the chapter!!
I can only tag 50 people :( so the taglist for Una Noche En Monaco is closed 😭 I’m sorry 😭😭
@mac-daddy-210 @infinite-wanders @rbrsavage @itsyogurlkel @bbygrlllllll  @nerdreader @imnotcryingyouare1 @killerangel88 @obx-mylove-things-blog @triorion @daniellarogers @insssanemind @bosinclairsgf @rb-danny @shyshva @booksobsess @ogfangirl @ravenqueen27 @masonspulisic @yunnie-f1 @simxican @ushygushybaby @graceverstappen11 @maximoff-xmen @severenswife @ferraribabe @pjofics @harrysdimple05 @mloyer @teti-menchon0604 @imagineadream @reidsworld @scentedskydreamer @christianpulisic10 @formulas-bitch @topguncultleader @hc-dutch @moonclaine @miureiz @tall-tanned-tattoo @madisontaxarn @bisexualbith @diasnohibng187 @im-just-here-toread @tyskills @rafaaoli @heavengirls111 @lighttsoutlewis @leclerc13 @c4ssi4-luv @livsans @ynbutbetter @marigoldgasly @vita-di-moda @sbrn0905 @yesshewrites1 @amsofftrack @fandomxs1 @ludmisorella @japanesekel @leclercsbae @padfootsiriusorionblackthethird @celestialams @dreamcarsound @bhiees @empathypostsf1
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simplydannie · 4 months
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Previous “We Were Family!”
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A request written for @veneerandvelvet!! Sorry it took awhile! I hope you like it!! I’m honestly nervous posting this 😣
TRIGGER WARNING ‼️ MENTION OF ALCOHOL ABUSE
Vivian couldn’t believe Cressida wouldn’t what she did to her children, Velvet and Veneer… but Cressida is cunning. Luring her sister’s husband Vaughn into a trap and down a spiraling path he once journeyed. Now regret sits on his mind.
It had been one month since the incident with Cressida. Since they found her beating away at their son. The twins mother, Vivian, had yet to speak about the incident. How could her own sister do such a thing? How could she lay hands on him in such a way? Vivian was angry at her self, how could she not see that Veneer had been hurting, that he been afraid to say anything?
She sat on her chair staring out the window as thought after thought ran through her mind. A small knock on the door brought her back to reality.
“Yes?” She answered.
Her husband walked in. She saw the concerned look on his face, he had been worried about her, he tried to talk to her but she just didn’t want to hear any of it, at least not yet.
“Viv, you’ve been cooped up in here all day.” He said.
“Just a few more minutes.”
“The twins are starting to worry. They know you’re upset. Vennie thinks you’re mad at him.”
“What? No! Oh no I’m not! Where is he?”
“He and Vels are playing outside. Viv, please go out with them. Take them somewhere just the three of you. I know you don’t want to talk about what happened, I know it hurts you because it hurts me too. I’m ready to talk about it Viv, ready when you are.” He said. Vivian was silent a moment, thinking of what her husband said.
“She’s my sister Vaughn, how could she do that? I would’ve never laid a hand on her children that way. My niece and nephew…. Never. Why? And especially on someone like Veneer. Veneer! Vaughn he wouldn’t harm a fly why would she hurt him. Has she hurt Velvet to and she hasn’t told me? Oh my god I’m a terrible mother!” She buried her hands in her face and began to cry. Her husband walked over, holding her tight.
“No Viv, you’re not. You just trusted someone you thought you could because she was family. You’re not a horrible mother. We make mistakes and are oblivious to things as parents… but I know you love those two as much as I do.” He held Vivian, allowing her to drain the tears she had been holding. They don’t know how much time passed as they held each other there in the room…
“Mommy?” A small voice caused Vivian to look up. The twins peeked through the opening of the door, a sadden look in their eyes as they saw their mother cry. Vivian quickly wiped her face, attempting to compose herself.
“Hi sweetie.”
“Why are you crying?” Velvet asked as her brother followed her.
“Just…” Vivian sighed, why lie about feelings? “Sometimes moms need to cry when we feel something strong.”
“What were you feeling?” Asked Veneer.
“Sad. Very sad. But dad helped me feel better.” She placed a hand on his cheek… how she get so lucky?
“Ew! Please don’t kiss.” Velvet gagged.
“Come on now Vels, be nice.” Her dad smiled.
“Well Dad gave me a great idea. How about we go down the store and get some junk food to bring home?”
“Oh!!” Veneer said excitedly.
“Yes!!! I want those cake poppers!”
“Tiff Toffs!!! Chocolate Tiff Toffs!” Veneer squealed.
“Then let’s go. Vennie, your tubing? Why is it off?” She scolded.
“Oh.” Veneer ran off with Velvet at his heels. Once the kids were out of view, she turned and leaned over to her husband, placing a passionate kiss on his lips.
“Thank you. I’ll bring you back something. Then I’ll have a little extra treat for you once the kids are asleep.”
“In that case, let’s just put them to sleep now?”
“Very funny Vaughn.”
Vaughn stayed back cleaning up the house when they left. Vivian had called to let him know the kids wanted to go get ice cream instead, so they would be out longer than they thought. He took his time cleaning their home when he received a phone call. Picking it up, he automatically answered thinking it was his wife.
“Hey babe, are the kids behaving?”
“Hello Vaughn.”
He knew the tone of voice, his heart grew hard and cold.
“How dare you call here Cressida.” He said.
“Hear me out Vaughn. I need some help.”
“Your sister isn’t home. I doubt she’ll want to talk to you after what happened.” He said.
“It’s not my sister I need help from. I need yours. It’s a surprise… a little apology for her.”
Vaughn sighed, “Why don’t you just call back when she’s here.”
“I really need your help. It’s for her. I want to fix my relationship with her.. I want to fix everything.” She said, practically begging. Vaughn was silent. He didn’t want to help her at all…. He was FAR from wanting to help her… but it was for Vivian. He wanted his wife to be happy, he didn’t want her beating herself over what happened…Perhaps Vaughn could talk sense into his sister-in-law, something that could rekindle the relationship between all of them again…
He sighed, “I’ll be right over.”
Hours passed. It was late in the night when the twins came home with their mother. They laughed and giggled running into the living room.
“Look at all my chocolate I got!” Veneer exclaimed as he sat in the couch.
“Don’t you dare take off your tubing, mister!” His mother warned. She went into the house calling out for her husband.
“Vaughn. Vaughn, babe, we’re home.” She called out. She looked around in the living then the kitchen. “Vaughn.” She went up the stairs and into their bedroom…. There she found him, sitting on the bed, his face buried in his hands…. He was crying.
“Vaughn! Babe, what happened? Hey look at me.” She pulled his face to look at hers. “What happened?”
He pulled her close, burying his face into her chest.
“Vaughn. What’s wrong! You’re worrying me. Tell me what’s wrong please.” She begged.
“I love you. You know that right.” He pulled her down to kiss her.
“Of course I do… are you alright?” She asked him.
“Just kiss me, Viv, please.”
“The kids are still awake.”
“Close the door, they’re occupied. I just really need you now.” He leaned his head on her chest again, “Please Viv.”
That night, the kids had gone off to bed, Vaughn lay there with his wife, holding her close. She was sound asleep. Regret hit him hard, guilt. He hated himself… he hated himself for what happened…. He should have never gone over to Cressidas…. He should have never helped her… nothing would have happened. He would never have this feeling of disgust. How could he betray Vivian in such a way, how could he do this the person he loved most?
Tears began falling down his face as he hugged her. He shouldn’t have trusted Cressida, he shouldn’t have drank with her…
“A toast to fixing family relations.” She had said. And he believed her. One sip of alcohol lead to another… the craving for it had returned….the addiction. Cressida had known this, she had known about his weakness. Vivian had told her out of pure trust. After a while, after a few drinks, Cressida began to look like Vivian, he swore it was her, the alcohol polluted his mind, his vision, he mixed reality with fantasy.
“Viv? I thought you were with the kids?” He had said. But it wasn’t Vivian, he swore he thought it was her, the effects of the alcohol made it look like her. So he pulled her in to kiss her… before he knew it, both their clothes were off….it wasn’t until after, that the effects of the alcohol wore off that he realized… it was Cressida, an evil smirk on her face.
“Oh my god…” Vivian had torn him away from that addiction, from that poison… all for him to come back to it for one night and betray his wife.
He kissed the back of her head as she slept. He loved her, he truly loved her… how could he do this to her? How could he tell her the truth? Would she forgive him when she found out? He buried his face into her hair… she smelled good… she always smelled good.
“I love you so much, Viv. I’m sorry.” He cried himself to sleep.
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pyramid-of-starrs · 1 year
Text
The icing on top
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Pairing: Fuck boy Mingi x Black Fem Reader
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 4.6K
Warnings: Smut, Mingi kinda sucks sorry :(, food play, insecurities, cursing, oral sex (Fem recieving), Fem reader but no fem names used, Vaginal sex, Condom sex, messy, some fluff
Summary: Situationships with Mingi can be a rollercoaster, you wanted to surprise him at his studio for his birthday but when you aren't the only girl there it creates an awkward situation. What is Mingi going to do to fix this?
Notes: Happy (belated) birthday Mingi!! (Not heavily proofread sorry X_X)
Minors DNI
Smut starts here:
11:58PM, cupcake in hand, you stood nervously in front of Mingis studio door. You wanted to surprise him for his birthday, but he texted you saying he had to finish a track he was working on. You understood, these are things you deal with when dating an idol. However, you had to see him, birthdays meant a lot to you. Mingi always described his birthday as
"Just another day on earth." It was way more to you then that, it was another day you got to spend celebrating Mingi, someone you really liked.
You and Mingi were not technically official, more so trapped in the "talking phase" because Mingis schedule is so hectic, you rarely get to see the man. When you would text Mingis phone during the day his manager would reply letting you know that he would get back to you soon. His manager, bless him, was sweet enough to only give you that courtesy, he was open and honest with you and let you know that the other girls Mingi "spoke with" doesn't get a reply until Mingi remembers they exist.
You recall his manager once texting you and saying, "I like you, you have a good heart and want what’s best for him I'll remember to knock him in the head when he forgets to reply to you."
Though the gesture was sweet Mingi still forgets to reply and sometimes you would not hear from him for hours, days even weeks, but again you understood. Your life gets busy too, you were in your final term of culinary school and sometimes worked late at a bakery you worked at.
While you’re zoned out you realize the time was now 12:02AM.
"Oh fuck-" You burst through the door.
"Happy birthday Mingi!"
Mingi looked over at you and so did another set of eyes, which is when you saw exactly what was going on.
Mingi texted you 4 hours ago cancelling on you saying he was going to be at the studio late but what he did not mention was that someone else would be there, and not just anyone. It was who you like to call "one of his other hoes". You're standing there silently with a big dumb smile on your face, a cupcake with a lit candle and another girl sitting on your man that’s not your man’s lap, what a fun sight indeed.
"Oh, sorry I-I didn't know you had someone here." you start stuttering and moving franticly, hurrying to blow out the candle.
"Y/N I didn't know you were coming I woulda-"
"No, no, no, no it's like totally fine, why would you know haha that’s what surprises are for right?" you said still smiling like the idiot you are.
The girl in Mingis lap- actually scratch that- the beautiful girl in his lap just looked you up and down.
"Who is this baby?" She looked over at Mingi and said.
Baby? Now you're getting irritated, you haven’t even started calling Mingi baby so why does this girl get to…
You don’t know rather to start swinging on everyone in that studio, drop to your knees and cry or just walk out in defeat. Time is moving so slow now and you wish you would have just stayed home in your short shorts and oversized t-shirt eating ice cream and watching family guy. Instead, you’re here with a full face of makeup, your curly hair all shiny because he loves how curly hair looks on you, a short black dress with your favorite oversized cardigan and high-top rick owns sneakers you saved up to buy to impress him. You shake yourself out of your thoughts and decided to be the bigger person here and just leave.
“Sorry, I’m Y/N, Mingis…Friend” You smile and reach your hand out to shake her hand.
“Oh! Hi, I’m one of the girls also fucking the guy you talk too.” She smiled while shaking your hand. That’s not really what she said, but that’s what your brain made you hear.
“Nice to meet you! Well, Mingi I was just dropping this off I’m-“ Your sentence was abruptly interrupted by another person walking into the door, Hongjoong, Mingis group member and leader.
“Yo, I don’t know how true it is, but I think Y/N is here.” He was distracted by his phone and not paying attention to see you standing right there, he had a pretty girl with him as well, she is also not paying attention and actually looks very irritated by this entire thing.
“It’s very true, I am here.” You turned to him and said with a sarcastic smile on your face. Hongjoong looking shocked like he just saw the grim reaper, he knew women and he could tell that was the face of a woman ready to cut someone’s head off and he was right. You couldn’t bring yourself to go off though. You wanted to leave with what little dignity you had left in you, so you put the cupcake down waved everyone goodbye and walked out silently.
When you reached your apartment Mingi didn’t even try to call or text you, your phone was dry minus the unread messages from other guys you’ve ghosted for Mingi. Deciding to not even think about it you went to get the makeup off your face and changed clothes. Once changed you decided to go back to your tradition of eating ice cream and watching tv on your comfortable couch. Due to your culinary background, you don’t have just plain ol’ vanilla or chocolate ice cream, you walked over to your fridge to grab the lavender and honey flavored ice cream you bought recently. Mingi often jokes about you always having “Some gourmet shit” in your house but one thing he always noticed was that you loved honey. You always had really high-quality honey around your apartment, or something honey flavored. Mingi even went as far as having your name in his phone as honey because of this that was just an assumption you made, you technically never knew why he saved it as honey.
Sitting on your couch watching tv, you pick up your phone to check the time.
“2:17AM” stared back at you, still no text or call from the birthday boy and you were over it, fuck him! You know technically you had no right to feel upset or jealous, you were there unannounced, you invited yourself there and most importantly, he is NOT your boyfriend. But you can’t help it, you can’t help but have the pit in your stomach, the rage in your chest and the insecurities in your mind. Luckily you are a sane person and you’re not made at the girl, no, she didn’t do anything, if anything she is a victim of male bullshit just like you. At the same time, you are jealous she was so beautiful and seemed so nice and you aren’t a slouch either, but she was Instagram baddie level. NO. NO. NO. Don’t be that girl, don’t compare yourself to the other woman just to make yourself feel worse. You don’t deserve that; you don’t deserve to deal with someone that makes you feel like this either.
2:39AM, you yawned, finally feeling sleepy, thank God you called off tomorrow because you planned an entire day to celebrate that asshole.
Suddenly there was a knock on your door, your stomach dropped, either that is a very nice serial killer or that’s-
You get up to look in the peephole, yup.
Mingi, he’s standing there looking tall and gorgeous as always. Fuck why do fuck boys always have to be fine as hell? You rolled your eyes and opened the door, not saying a word just gave him a “Can I help you?” kind of puzzling look.
“What’s up? You stopped by the studio and just left before I could talk to you.” He said and you arched your eyebrows, was he fucking serious?
“Yeah, Mingi you seemed pretty busy, so I left.” You walked away to sit on your couch, leaving the door open and him standing there, so he invited himself in and closed the door behind him.
“Is this about the girl that was there? Because I can explain that, HJ invited his girl to the studio and she brought her friend, her friend was a girl that I use to talk to and she just got comfortable, nothin’ serious.”
“In a studio room with a big ass comfortable couch and multiple chairs she decided to get comfortable in your lap? And that’s “nothin’ serious” to you? Please be fuckin’ forreal Mingi, I’m not stupid.” You rolled your eyes, shook your head, and went back to your ice cream and tv.”
He walked over to sit next to you, plopping down so close you were sitting thigh to thigh.
“Look, I’m going to be real with you, me and her use to fuck around but she’s boring so I ghosted her, I was focused on work and she came with her friend hugging and kissing me and telling me she missed me, I told her to chill but she still wanted to be by me and she invited herself to my lap. After you came, I felt weird, so she her and her friend left, I finished work and instead of going back to the apartment, I came here.”
When he finished explaining you genuinely couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, but it did make you feel kind of warm that he bothered even giving you an explanation, even though that’s the bare minimum. After you didn’t respond he kept talking.
“Look I’m sorry if that situation made you uncomfortable but at the same time, Y/N…we aren’t together…I know that’s not what you want to hear but that’s just what it is.”
Yeah, never mind on that warm feeling, all the groundwork he just put in is out the window.
“You don’t fucking think I know we aren’t together Mingi? You don’t think I know that I’m not allowed to be upset if you fuck with another girl?” you slammed your ice cream down on the coffee table and gave him a stern look.
“Alright calm down.” He reached him hand out to try to touch you, but you pushed it away.
“Don’t fucking tell me to calm the fuck down! I know we are both single and I know you can do what the hell you want but don’t sit here and not be real with me. You hadn’t texted me in hours and next thing I know you’re in the studio with some other bitch in your lap while I’m standing there looking like the dumbass of the year.” You were so upset that you got up and grabbed your ice cream and walked to the kitchen, not caring that your short shorts had rode up and started to show the bottom of your ass. Mingi was no longer listening he couldn’t help but to zone in on the sight. He needed to fix this, and he needed to fix it now because he needs you, bad.
There are somethings that were true about Mingis story, the girl that came was Hongjoongs girlfriends’ friend, but Hongjoong told Mingi his girlfriend was coming over and Mingi asked about the girl.
“Aren’t you and Y/N getting pretty serious though? You sure that’s a good idea?” Hongjoong asked with “Bro don’t risk it” written all over his face.
“Yea but, I forgot to text her back and it’s too late to ask her to come through so fuck it.”
“Okay, I can’t save you if something happens.”
When the girls arrived Hongjoong and Mingi went to their separate studios, Mingi absolutely participated in a little bit of making out and heavy petting but when you came with the exact cupcake he said he wanted for his birthday from the Italian bakery that always sells out he felt, dare he say it, bad. Mingi was a handsome guy over 6’0 feet so he naturally can get who he wants, and he was used to running through women within a 1–5-month course and telling them “I’m an idol I don’t have time to date.” When things got too serious. He told you the same thing, but it was something about you, he actually enjoyed having you around. He liked your quirks and style; you had a really pretty smile and a very genuine heart. He hasn’t dealt with a girl that actually can hold a conversation he enjoys in a while, until you two started talking.  You were absolutely worth getting to know, but shit started to get serious with you and when he tried to pull back and give you the same excuse, he was shocked when you agreed and said, “yeah I’m focusing on school and work too right now.”
Now, yes Mingi did start to feel bad about you leaving, but yes, he also came into the girls throat before they left, and he went to go fix things with you.
Mingi got up to follow you into the kitchen. “Calm down Y/N and hear me out.” You put your ice cream away and stood in front of him, he towered over you, it was like a gazelle fighting back against a lion and his bullshit.
“I’m not hearing shit out Mingi, don’t come over here looking for me after you just had pussy fall into your lap, LITERALLY!” you tried to leave the kitchen, but Mingi pulled you back.
“I’ve been real chill while you stood here screaming and yelling and cursing at me but you’re not about to keep walking away while I’m talking to you.”
“And if I do?” you looked back at him and said.
He pulled you back and pushed you against the fridge.
“Stop fucking playing with me Y/N, I’m not like the lame ass guys you like to waste time with when I’m not responding.”
God dammit, now your mad AND your pussy was wet, whatever happens from here is completely out of your control.
“I said I was sorry so...”
“So?”
“So, give me a kiss and let me make it up to you.”
You stayed silent for a minute but of course you listened, you kissed Mingi with your lavender and honey flavored lips. The kiss was hot and steamy, Mingi immediately stuck his tongue in your mouth like he wanted to taste the ice cream you just ate. On your way from pulling back to get air Mingi bites your bottom lip sensually.
“Damn, you taste so sweet, you know why I always call you honey?” He said looking at you with low and lustful eyes.
The heat in your core rising, feeling the thump on your clit was intense.
“No, why?”
He started to kiss down your neck, the kisses having some suction to them.
“Because you always taste so sweet, your entire body is like I’m drinking a bottle of honey.” Continuing to kiss and suck your neck you felt his hand go up your thigh and grip your ass.
Whimpers spilling from your mouth, and you grip his t-shirt to keep yourself grounded.
“Actually, you taste sweet too.”
Mingi pulls back, removing his soft and supple lips from your neck.
“Oh, yea I tasted the icing on the cupcake you got me, how did you get it? That bakery is always closed, and I can never make it on time?”
“Oh, well I actually made that, my friend that I’m in school with use to work there and he gave me the recipe for the vanilla bean cupcakes that you like, so I remade it and added my own special touch to the icing.” You smiled being proud of your culinary skills.
“Wow, you really are something else Y/N.”
You can’t help but to smile “Well thank you, I’m glad you liked it.”
“Do you have more of the cupcakes?”
Oh, uh- no actually only one of them came out tasting the same but I have a piping bag of icing left.” You go into your refrigerator and take out a piping bag of the home-made icing. It was a simple vanilla buttercream that you added some honey and mango extract to brighten up the flavors.
“Want some?” You offered him, he nodded, and you squeezed some on too his finger. He sucked the icing off, and you watched the whole thing happen you stayed silent while watching because you were so turn on in that moment. You bit your lips as he pulled his finger from his mouth, he smiled at you.
“Have you tried it yet?”
“Um- I tried some as I was making it. Not the finished product.”
“A chef should eat their own cooking, here.” Took what was left on is two fingers and coached them into your mouth, your lips gladly inviting his digits in. You closed your eyes and sucked and licked all the icing off, your hot mouth melting the cold icing onto your tongue. The flavors covering your mouth with a mix of Mingis and your spit make your heat even hotter. Mingi moved his fingers back and forth into your mouth, you could feel his intense gaze as he watched you while biting his lip.
Mingi removed his fingers from your mouth, you were sucking so hard there was a significant pop upon exiting.
"See it's good, isn't it? You did such a good job Y/N" a cocky grin on his face like he was the one that made it.
"Th-thank you." You took the praise to heart and to cunt, you regret not wearing panties because your shorts are sticking to you due to the mess being made in them.
He takes the icing from you.
"I wonder what else this icing would be good on." Your heart drops a bit anticipating his next move. Mingi lifts your shirt, and you finish the job by fully removing it, you opted out of wearing a bra because you were in the comfort of your own home, and you'll be damned if you felt constricted.
"Mmm what will it taste like if I-" he took the bag and 1 line going down your boob, starting from the top all the way down to your nipple. "ate it right off your gorgeous tits?" Mingi grabbed both your shoulders before diving it and lapping up the icing. Your breathing spiked, this was the sexiest shit ever, a man appreciating your food AND eating it off of you, this has got to be all chefs dream right?
Pretty moans were all you could do as he licked the icing off of your chest making quite the mess actually, but how could you bring yourself to give a fuck about ants when a fine ass man is sucking icing off your titties. The answer is...you can't, you can't give a fuck, you can't even think straight, you feel your mind blanking as he wraps his juicy lips around your nipple and flick them with his tongue.
"Mingi please" You were standing there rubbing your thighs together trying to generate even the slightest bit of friction between your legs.
"Please what?" He started to lick your nipples slowly awaiting your response.
"Please- I need you there too."
"Where baby."
"I need you to lick my pussy too...please."
"It's my birthday so I guess I do want more sweets."
He placed the piping bag on the counter and backed you into the wall then got down on his knees. He took your shorts off then lifted one of your legs over his shoulders.
"Wait Mingi lets go to my room or the couch."
He ignored your request.
"You're this wet for me already baby?" He leaned in to kiss your needy sex repeatedly getting closer and closer to your eager clit. Once his puffy lips sucked the nub your head dropped back and hit the wall.
"Fuck." was your only response, Mingi gripped the underneath of your thigh to get a nice firm hold on you. His tongue starting to explore your pussy to get a nice taste of you, mixing the taste of the icing and your sweet juices together to create a heavenly mixture.
"I love tasting this pussy so much, you’re the only one baby, the only pussy I love to eat." He said between licks, you again can't tell if he is telling the truth but even a lie could sound sweet in a moment like this. Drunk and dazed from your cunt Mingi takes his unoccupied hand and moves his digits into your wet hole. Mingi never stopped lapping up your juices as he pushed his fingers in and out of you. You felt the need to buck your hips and grind onto his face, your hands taking refuge in his hair gripping the short light pink locks.
"Mingi I'm gonna cum oh my god."
"That’s right pretty girl cum all over my face." You continued to gyrate your hips on too him, he sped up the pace as he slammed his fingers in you, his mouth now sucking your sensitive nub like it was a sucker. You gripped his hair so tight his scalped lifted as you came all over his mouth and fingers while incoherently yelling his name.
Mingi stood up and put his finger by your mouth and it was almost instinctual for you to lick your cum off of them. When you were done you realized you were fully naked and sticky from having spit and icing all over you. You got a little shy and used your arms to cover yourself.
"Aww don't get shy pretty girl, we just started." he pulled you into his still clothed chest and gave you a kiss, he then swiftly bent you over your kitchen counter.
"Mingi~ Why here why not the bed or something." You felt shy, being fully naked bent over in front of him so he could see you on full display made you want to scream.
"I need to fuck you right now baby." he reached into his pocket to pull out a condom, not even his wallet, the condom was in his pocket because Mingi knew he could lie and sweet talk his way into some pussy. I mean, was he wrong here you are giving him some.
He pulled his pants down taking his underwear with them then rolled the condom down his long and thick dick. Mingi didn't just have hoes because of his cool demeanor, no, it was that dick. Mingi had the kinda dick that you were willing to fight 100 women for, the kind of dick that makes you wanna bring HIM flowers, the kinda dick that has you bent over ass naked in your kitchen at 3am with 0 complaints.
He pumped his member a few times to prepare himself, guiding his tip to your tight entrance, you had just came so you winced abit when you felt to pressure of him trying to enter you. He slowly began to push his dick into you and your mouth was left agape. This wasn't your first time fucking him but with a dick like that every time feels like the very first time. It was a tight fit and your pussy was clenching and pulsing on his rod. You felt the knot in your stomach return. Mingi gripped both sides of your hips, he leaned down with his lips inches away from your ear, he whimpered at your pussy gripping his dick. The whimpers and him finally bottoming out inside of you had you seeing stars as you came on his latex covered member.
"Ah Fuck, damn did you just cum again? Don't go having all the fun without me, it is my birthday."
He started moving his hips to pump his dick in and out of your sensitive pussy.
"Oh fuck~"
The over stimulation provided a very intense kind of pleasure, a pain that felt fucking amazing, you can't help but to want more and more of him.
Mingi remembered the icing bag that he sat down on the counter and grabbed it. Before you could ask what he was doing he squeezed some of the sweet cream on the top of your spine.
Leaning in, he started to lick the icing up driving his tongue up your spine, you wanted to actually scream, and you did, you yelled Mingis name like it wasn’t late as hell at night. Fuck your neighbors, right? The only thing you cared about is the big ass Man fucking you until the only words you could say was his name. He continued to lap up the sweet icing while his dick pounded into your abused sex. Your eyes rolled so far into the back of your head if it was possible, you could probably see your brain.
Once Mingi finished licking up what was left of the icing he grabbed a handful of your curly hair and brought your ear to his mouth.
“I’m fucking you so good aren’t I baby?”
“Yesss oh my fucking GOD yes.”
“Mm are you going to cum on my dick for me baby? Make my dick all creamy.”
“Yes, fuck yes.”
He started to pound directly into your spot, the tip of his dick hitting you deeply, you started to see stars your legs became weak.
“Cum right now baby.”
And that you did, you came with nothing but praises of how much you love his dick fell out of your mouth. Mingi groaned as he reached his climax as well pushing his dick all the way into you and holding it there as he shot hot white ropes into the condom. If the day ever comes that you trust Mingi enough to fuck him raw you might go crazy and fight everyone in your path.
You both were exhausted, it was almost 4am, Mingi backed up and removed his length from your swollen cunt. He pulled up his pants removed his shirt because it was now covered in the remaining icing that was on your back. You were stuck after your mind-blowing orgasm and getting fucked into next week. He turned you around, picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter. You wrapped your arms around his neck and put your head on his shoulders. You were sticky, sweaty, covered in spit and tired as hell. Mingi put his arms around your naked body.
“I really am sorry if I put you in an awkward situation Y/N, you do mean a lot to me.”
“Thank you for saying that.”
“Well, I guess I should go huh?” He pulled back from you and looked you in the eyes, he said he had to go but his eyes said, “Let me stay”. Not because he was too tired to go back home but because he wanted to spend what little was left of that night/morning hold you in his arms. You made Mingi weak, you made not only his dick throb but his heart. You care for him, check on him, make him feel wanted, make him feel secure and make him feel special and he felt bad that he didn’t do the same for you.
“You know damn well you are not leaving after you just fucked me like that. Come on so we can get in a hot bath and go to sleep.”
You ran not hot bath with a cute bath bomb and some honey and oats bubble bath. You got in first and Mingi sat behind you holding on to your wet bad. You both too tired to even wash up you sat and enjoyed the warm water and the aromatic smells; you laid your head on his wet chest and he kissed your forehead.
“You know we go together real bad now, right?” you said with your eyes closed, Mingis heart dropped to his stomach at the thought of actually being in a committed relationship but then he thought about it, it was you and honestly you were worth it.
“Best birthday gift ever” he said in agreeance.
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kookygranger · 8 months
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Is This Desire?
Firefighter!Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader
Love isn't always enough. Steve disagrees.
Warnings: 18+ minors dni, angst, reader gets in a verbal fight with steve, witchcraft, reader is a town outcast, fem!reader, no upside down/no hawkins au
Word count: 2.4k
Author's note: That’s it for this little series! I’ll still be thinking about lover boy Steve and his witchy gf (me) for the rest of the summer while I down sweet iced tea, so please send through any questions, ideas or PJ Harvey lyrical prompts if you’d like me to turn them into blurbs! 
Series Masterlist
Chapter Five: To Lift Above
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It began with small incidents.
A look from strangers, as you’re buying a loaf of bread and that peanut butter Steve likes at the grocery store in town. One that judges without even knowing you, deciding you’ll always be a subject in the rumour mill.
Whispers as you walk past people in town, hand-in-hand with their golden boy.
How could he be with her? He must be under some love spell. She keeps him trapped up in that house. He’s always with her, following her around like a lost puppy. She must’ve hexed him.
Steve Harrington would be better off without that witch.
After your uncle died and you were employed by the library you spent a lot more time in town, but ultimately you still kept mostly to yourself. You may have felt restricted growing up in that house, but it was a safe space – certainly now after you’d transformed it into a proper home and Steve had brought light to the darkest corners of it.
And when the glares and slights got too much, you could retreat. Find solace in your books and soft cushions, in the perfumed garden full of life and forgiving nature.
But Steve, enamoured as he was, would find you time and time again. You didn’t think much of it at first, more than happy to welcome him into your space where he fit in just perfectly – like he always does. But the whispers eventually wore you down.
Maybe he was spending too much time away from his life. Maybe he should be having drinks after work with the rest of his colleagues, playfully pestering Robin at the bar instead of being curled up on the couch eating takeout because you couldn’t handle going out.
Maybe he should be dating a normal girl that wouldn’t turn him into a town pariah. That wouldn’t drag him down to her level.
After Steve’s close call, you watched over him in that hospital bed. The wheels turning all night, small incidents only fuelling the fire.
Steve Harrington would be better off without you.
You knew he wouldn’t back down easy. He would disagree of course, probably even change your mind with that charming smile, so you had to be smarter. You had to take his ability to fight back, fight for you, out of the equation.
Then the opportunity presented itself in the form of a spell.
It had been a couple of weeks since the incident, Steve recovering under your blankets as you played nurse, using his injury as a way to keep some distance. And as much as it pained Steve, he thought that’s all it was. He thought your refusal to turn cuddling into anything more and the faraway look in your eyes that hardly ever met his anymore was a symptom of the scare you’d endured. That you were still spooked and just being overly cautious of his wellbeing.
It wasn’t until he came across an open spell book one day in your library, after hobbling downstairs to find the novel he’d bookmarked while you were out, and noticed the matching ingredients gathered on the desk around it, that he finally realised where your mind had been going.
You call for him an hour later, when you come home and find the bed empty upstairs. He hears your feet padding around the house until your head peaks through the library door and you spot him sitting on the chair at your desk.
“What is this?”
You step into the room. “What do you mean? I thought we had that discussion about my books. I’m a witch remember.”
He hates the bitterness that word seems to hold on your tongue. Like it’s a slur rather than a gift. Like you could ever be anything other than a miracle.
“Please don’t condescend me.”
You falter, a frown creasing your face. “I wasn’t trying to–I’m sorry.” He watches you shrink in on yourself when your eyes flicker between the book and surrounding evidence. “I just think it would be for the best.”
“What exactly?” His hand brings the book closer to him, eyes scanning the contents before landing back on you. “What are you planning to do with a memory-wiping spell, huh?”
He’s angry, and you know he’s already worked it out. But he needs to hear you admit it.
“I was planning to make you forget me, Steve.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, scared to initiate this conversation you were trying desperately to avoid.
His jaw clenches, and when his voice comes out steady, you know he’s trying his hardest to still be soft with you. “Can you please explain to me why on earth you would do that?”
Your eyes squeeze shut at the first sign of burning, head tilting upwards to avoid a spill over your lash line. You take a deep breath in, confessing on the exhale. “You shouldn’t be with me. You deserve someone else, someone–better for you.”
“I disagree.” You hear the chair creak as he stands up and your head snaps down, body instinctively ready to reach out to him in his injured state before you stop it. “That person doesn’t exist. Next.” He gestures for you to continue, so dismissively that your blood begins to boil. “What are your reasons?”
You huff, “My reasons? How about the fact that you can’t walk down the street with me without getting dirty looks! How about when you miss out on spending time with your friends from work or going out with Robin because you’re stuck here hiding with me?”
“Stuck? How am I stuck? You realise I can make my own decisions, right? That I choose to be here with you because I want to. It is the best part of my day. Coming home to you. Waking up with you beside me. I don’t give a shit, what any of those small-minded people think.” His arms gesticulate so passionately you’d be concerned about his injured rib if you weren’t so preoccupied with getting your own point across.
“It isn’t enough.”
Steve’s shoulders deflate, he could feel his heart shattering. “What do you mean?”
“You’re giving up too much Steve.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think I am. Besides, even if I was, I’d give up everything for you. I love you.”
You bite your lip, tears finally spilling over, hot on your flushed cheeks. “You think this is love?”
He frowns, “What else could it be?”
“Lust. Desire.”
He scoffs, “I know you don’t believe that. You’re just scared.”
You shrug, taking a step closer to him. “Maybe I am. Shouldn’t that mean something?”
“Yeah, it means that this is real.” He mirrors you with a step forward.
“Okay, then. What if it is love–”
“If?” He scoffs again, hands finding his hips in defence.
“Is love really enough? It can’t always be.”
“What else is there too it?”
“Many things Steve.” You’re almost whining, begging him to see your point of view.
“I don’t get it. Of course it’s enough. There’s no point in existing without you.” He steps closer again, bridging the gap with a gentle but grounding hand on your arm.
“You did before.”
“No,” he shakes his head, “It was nothing like this. And it wouldn’t ever be the same without you.” His free hand reaches up to wipe the tears off your face. “You’re scared I get it.”
You sniffle as you lean into his touch. “Aren’t you?”
“I was to begin with. I never knew I could love so intensely, and it scared me. The thought of messing this up,” he shakes his head eyes burrowing into yours, a crease in between his brows, “but not having you at all is a way worse fate. I’m standing here because I love you, and nothing can take that away. Not even your spell. You can’t make me forget how I feel.”
You laugh wetly, softening as you turn pliable under his touch. “Are you trying to undermine my magic Steve Harrington?”
He embraces you fully for the first time in weeks, nuzzling into your hair and kissing the side of your head. “I’m just tryna’ say you can’t control how other people feel. And you sure as hell can’t keep me away.”
Your arms reach around his torso and you cry into the warmth that is him.
“Steve.”
He grips you a little tighter, “I love you.”
You bury your face in his neck, voice muffled but full of conviction. “I love you too.”
***
Halloween 1993
The crinkling of plastic is what alerts you to his presence. He stops mid-chew when your head snaps up from the paper bag you were grabbing another packet from, hand literally caught in the candy jar.
“Steve!”
“It was just one.” He defends through a mouthful of chocolate, backing away from the plastic bowl of sugary treats. You walk over with a bag of lollipops and he smirks, leaning on the kitchen counter. “I think you’ve probably got enough to treat the whole town baby.”
You sigh, and pop the plastic bag in your hands, tipping its contents into another bowl. “I just don’t want to run out.” You mumble as you crinkle the empty packet in your hand before throwing it in the trash, but Steve still hears it. “Don’t need to give them any more ammunition to the egg the house.”
Steve frowns and you offer him a strawberry lollipop from the bowl before he has a chance to say anything. He grins, unwrapping the clear plastic over the candy quickly, smile never leaving his face as he sucks on his prize. An exaggerated pop and a corny line leaving him, “Mmm, almost as sweet as you.” Before he kisses your shoulder.
“Steve.”
He chuckles as you look away from him, burning up under his attention, squeezing your hip. “What? Where’s the lie?” Another kiss to your cheek, sugary sweet and you’re giggling like a child with a bag full of candy.
You’d dressed in your witchiest attire for the first Halloween without your uncle in this house. The first Halloween with Steve in it.
You wanted to let the people of this town see that there was nothing scary lurking in between the lavender and chamomile flowers. Just the tacky decorations you’d spent half a day putting up. You’d even dusted off an old, pointed hat you found in the attic belonging to one of your ancestors. Steve couldn’t hide his surprise when you’d come downstairs looking like a character from a children’s book. “Thought I’d get in on the joke.”
As the evening bleeds into night, and you still haven’t been visited by a single one of the children you can hear screaming and laughing beyond your garden gate, your hope of them taking your olive branch deflates.
You take your hat off, quickly wiping a tear away as you move inside and Steve’s heart breaks. Why won’t they give you a fucking chance? They don’t deserve you.
He bounds down the street, imaginary chain mail and armour glinting under the setting sun and finds some familiar faces in the fathers on his crew. He’s clapped on the back and welcomed into their circle, one of the older men asking the cause of the frown etched on his defiant face.
“It’s my girl, she’s a little upset that no one’s stopped by to trick or treat. I know it’s out of the way, but she’s done up the whole front of the house and it looks awesome. Even got full-sized candy bars, which I told her was too much.” He waves in the direction of your house.
“Full-sized candy?” A child dressed in a pirate costume runs up to the group. “Dad, can we go there?”
“Of course. Let’s go to Steve’s.”
When the door thuds shut behind Steve you don’t look up from your position on the couch, instead sinking in further and soaking up any stray tears with the sleeve of your dress.
“Baby, where’d the candy go?”
“It’s in the kitchen. Help yourself.” Your voice is small compared to Steve’s boisterous shout as he locates the goods.
“Thought you said I couldn’t have any.”
You shrug even though he can’t see it, “S’not like we need it.”
The doorbell chimes as he makes his way back through the house, grinning. “I don’t know about that.”
You shake your head, “It’s probably just some kids daring each other to ring the door.”
Steve thinks you look a lot like the little girl in the window as you sit there hugging your knees, his mind flashing back to the bats and screams and your warm presence. He thanks whatever higher power might’ve brought him to your house that night, even if it was just Tommy Hagan’s misguided machismo.
His voice is gentle, “Why don’t you come help me get the door.”
“Steve–“
“Baby, c’mon. Just trust me.”
You huff because you know you’ll never not trust that smile and follow him to the front door. When it creaks open to a chorus of high-pitched trick or treats, it takes you a second to register what’s happening. You blink when a little girl tells you she likes your costume, taking in the group of children on your doorstep with open arms holding out candy-filled bags and the parents giving Steve a wave from the bottom of the porch steps. A smile takes hold of your face, one of the brightest Steve has ever had the privilege of witnessing and you spring into action. You dish out handfuls of candy to each child, who squeals out delighted thanks and compliment every one of them on their costume.
Steve holds the bowl for you, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back the whole time until the children bound back down the front steps and he waves to their parents. An older gentleman smiles your way and thanks you and you return the sentiment as they all head off back down the garden path.
When the door closes on their excited chatter, you pull Steve in by his shirt collar for a deep kiss. His free hand resting on your waist when you lean back and whisper.
“Thank you.”
He’s dusted pink like it’s the first time your lips have ever met, his hand reaches up to your face, thumb swiping across your cheek that was sticky with tears just moments ago.
“I love you.”
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Gem’s sitting on the edge of the plank that hangs over their hill.
“Why’s your eye blue?”
“I don’t know, Scott, why’s half of my body overtaken by a dark, unknown substance that’s slowly eating me out from the inside?” Gem replies, staring at the water a hundred feet down.
“Well, you wouldn’t want me to stroll up and ask you why you’re fifty percent possessed.” Scott doesn’t sit down, but starts munching on a potato. “Plus, I have experience with sudden heterochromia too, you know.”
It’s a light conversation, but the undertones are obvious, like skating on the thin ice lying on the surface of a deep river. Gem sighs.
“It’s not the first time it’s happened.”
Scott nods. “Yeah, I know, Cub and that fog. That was sculk, I have no idea what this is.”
Gem winces as a cherry leaf brushes across her face.
“It hurts?” Scott asks, his expression concerned.
“No, it…” Gem turns to look at Scott for the first time in the whole exchange. Her face is half human, half shadow, and the eye on the afflicted side is, indeed, a murky, dimly glowing navy. “Scott, that’s why I’m worried. It doesn’t feel just fine, it feels… good. Like it was always meant to be this way.”
“Oh,” Scott says. “That sounds wrong.”
“Do you have any ideas what it could be?”
“Well, uh… we could ask Grian, check if it might be a yellow side effect.”
-
“No chance.”
Grian’s rolled up the sleeves of his demure red sweater, standing in the middle of a cow pen outside of the hollowed-out mountain Etho, Cleo, and he calls home. He squints at Gem.
“I mean, come on, or all the other yellows would’ve gotten it too.” The former Watcher elaborates, before jumping out of the pen to closer inspect Gem’s new look. “I’ve never seen this before. The only thing I can think of that’s… infecting you is the End, but you didn’t even go into the portal. Why ask me?”
“We thought you would know, being, you know, Watcher-related…” Scott grins nervously.
“I thought you weren’t a big fan of them in the first place.” Grian says, obtaining a quick nod from Gem before prodding the affected arm.
“Well, you know…” Scott chuckles sheepishly.
“The End?” Gem asks, still a few sentences behind.
“Yes, the End,” Grian doesn’t straighten up since he’s shorter than Gem anyway. “But you didn’t even go in- how- I have no idea. Stop asking me!”
He groans. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so grumpy, it’s just- when you got here it was like there was a conflicting presence. Oh, I sound crazy.”
“Wow, you hate me?” Gem jokes. “I’m hurt.”
“Not you, it’s the-” Grian frowns and gestures to her left side. “Ugh! I feel really- like there’s some sort of eavesdropper around. I mean, normally even that wouldn’t bother me, but it’s different. Like more… persistent.”
Scott, who has had one too many run-ins with the higher entities between being a winner and having a history with Jimmy, has caught on. “Oh, is it because of the Watchers’ rivalry with the Li-?”
“I’m not a Watcher!” Grian quickly interrupts him. “Just hurry up and leave before I stab you, it’s not your fault, I just feel like there’s someone spying. Stop listening!” He suddenly shouts to no one.
No one. Unless…
“Grian, you sure you’re oka-” Gem is cut off by Scott hastily saying “Gem, let’s just go now.”
“Right.” Gem, who is incredibly confused, scurries away with Scott.
-
And then she’s back in her base again, lying on the bed and holding her arm above her to watch how the blue glimmers in the light.
It’s captivating. She knows it should be bad, but she’s pretty sure it’s already taken half her soul by now, and she can’t help but fall into its trap.
The question is, what is it?
It must’ve been the End. She created the army that would defeat the dimension’s ruler, and the End… remembers. It must be some kind of revenge, some sort of punishment, to drag her over to the darkness. If you can’t beat ‘em, make ‘em join you.
Somehow she feels like that isn’t all.
Despite all of Grian’s superficial denials, everyone knows that the winged Watcher is… well, a Watcher, probably because he still has the wings.
He felt wrong when Gem was around. Like someone was hearing them- no, listening to them.
Gem watches her left hand curl up into a fist, outlined by the torch’s light. She remembers Scott’s words. Is it because of the Watchers’ rivalry with the Li-
Her eyes open, then open again.
And for half a second, she can hear every conversation, every whisper, every secret.
She Listens.
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whumpbug · 3 months
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whumperless whump event day 7: accidental cryotherapy @whumperless-whump-event
this one is a bit longer than i usually write but i had so much fun writing it I LOVE THESE GUYS
falling through a frozen lake / hypothermia / “hey, c'mon, you gotta stay awake."
see this post for character information!
caretaker: Simon
whumpee: Archie
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Archie really should have been used to the cold by now, considering he’d lived in the city for his entire life. Despite that, he couldn't help that it somehow seemed to catch him by surprise every year.
The snow fell gently around him, making the usually bustling streets seem just a little bit calmer. No one wanted to be out in this kind of weather, after all. He could even see his breath come in puffs every time he exhaled. It was kind of.. mesmerizing.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by a sweet voice coming from below him.
“Thank you so much son!” The little old lady he had rescued from a mugger said, while viciously shaking Archie’s hand. It was gloriously warm, a welcome contract to his numb fingertips. Still, the strength behind it was surprising for how frail the woman looked.
“Oh, it’s really no problem ma’am, none at all! Just doing my part!” He said cheerfully. “I can escort you home if you’d like—”
He was cut off by police chatter coming in through his earpiece. He listened in with a grave expression for a few moments before his jaw set in determination. There had been an accident. One involving the frozen lake in the city park.
“I’m so sorry ma’am, but I have to go, I’ll make sure one of the officers escorts you home, okay?"
“Oh that’s alright dear, you’ve been more than enough help.. you get on home and warm up, okay?” She hummed, patting Archie’s cheek.
Archie laughed a bit before setting off. He wouldn’t be warming up anytime soon, that was for sure. Still, at least that lady would be able to. That was what made the job always worth it. Someone got to go home safely now because of him, and that was enough.
Now, back to the issue at hand.
He ran the situation through his mind as he began his sprint to the city's park. Luckily the mugging had happened only a few blocks away, so he would get there before emergency services.
Apparently, a couple of high school students had been messing around by the lake and one of them had fallen in. None of the others were able to get him out and he was trapped under the ice. The kids said it had only been a few seconds before they called the police, but still, the thought of a kid losing air while simultaneously freezing to death disturbed Archie deeply. It made him run just a little bit faster.
It was actually getting rather difficult to run. Archie's Vigil suit wasn't very weather friendly, and he found himself faltering every few steps from the lack of feeling in his toes. Still, he braved the cold and soldiered on.
Eventually, 2 silhouettes came into view as Archie approached the lake. The 2 kids were scrambling at the river bank, panicked, and he could hear their argument from twenty feet back.
“You were the one who dared Henry to do it!”
“Yeah well you egged him on! You encouraged it! It's both of our faults!”
“Don’t you dare try to blame me for this!”
Archie walked right up to them, holding up a placating hand.
“I don't care who's fault it was. I need you to show me where your friend fell through. Now.” He barked. Usually. he’d take the time to calm the bystanders and reassure them that everything would be okay, but the seconds were precious and there was a kid drowning.
Both students shut up and shakily pointed to a spot about 8 feet from the river bank.
Archie sucked in a breath.
He quickly scanned the area for anything he could use, but unfortunately he was quite ill-equipped. He knew it was dangerous to go out on the ice, lest it breaks again, but it was looking more and more like it was his only option.
With a sharp exhale, he got down on all fours, then lowered himself to his belly as he began scooting across the ice towards the break. It was times like these that he was immensely grateful for his heightened vision, because he was able to see the outline of a squirming body through the ice. Good, he thought, he’s still partially conscious, at least. It's not too late.
Finally, his fingers found purchase at the edge of the ice, and not a moment too soon as his front was starting to sting from the contact with it. A shudder his frame as he inhaled deeply to steel his nerves.
In he goes.
He slipped head-first through the hole in the ice and immediately his vision when white with the sheer cold. He fought the urge to gasp. God, who knew the cold could hurt this bad. It was like every cell in his body started seizing up at once, and his head was going to explode.
He clenched his jaw and brought his focus back to the present. He didn’t have time to dwell on the pain. He had a job to do. 
He forced his eyes open, which stung viciously from the frigid water, and scanned the murk for the kid. Henry, he heard them say. He saw a limb flail from a silhouette a few feet away.
He kicked towards Henry and reached out. His stiff fingers wrapped around the thrashing arm and held it steady. Got him.
He pulled Henry tight to his body, and looked down to see wide eyes looking up at him. Despite his own compromised state, he forced himself to flash the kid a soft smile to put him at ease. Henry vaguely returned it.
He kicked up towards the surface, again, using his enhanced vision to scan for the hole they both came in through. He reached up and finally found the jagged edge of the ice. Bingo. He and the kid breached the surface with a gasp.
Archie coughed wetly as he pushed Henry up onto the ice.
Henry coughed just as violently, letting out a weak cry as he scrambled for the edge, trying desperately to pull himself up. Archie had to physically restrain his arms to keep him from breaking more ice and drowning them both.
He wanted to explain that the ice would only hold one of them, so they had to be strategic about how they got back to the bank. He tried to explain that the kids on the bank had to grab Henry’s feet and pull, but his teeth were chattering too violently to even form a word. Not to mention the bitter, unrelenting cold was all his mind could focus on. If things weren't bad already, he was treading water to hoist the kid up but his legs were rapidly losing feeling. He had to act fast.
“Pull!” he managed to shout, shoving the kid up and onto the ice. With an adrenaline-induced feat of strength, he managed to slide him across the ice and towards the bank.
Luckily, the students were able to catch on. They grabbed Henry’s ankles and dragged him to the grass, all collapsing in an exhausted and shaken heap once he was on solid ground.
The ambulance sirens rang through the night air a few moments later, and Archie vaguely felt panic bubble up within him. If the ambulance found him, they would take him to the hospital. At the hospital, they would take off his mask and people would see his face. His identity would be revealed. He couldn’t have that happen.
But he was still halfway in the freezing pond and rapidly losing sensation all throughout his limbs. He needed to get out fast.
With fleeting strength, he managed to yank himself up onto the ice as wheezing coughs wracked his body once again.
The adrenaline must have had a second wind, because he was able get himself to his hands and knees and shuffle across the ice. Once he made it to the riverbank, he hauled his himself to his numb feet and began staggering towards the trees.
He kept going until he was sure he was out of view. Those boys would never know who really saved them, but maybe it was for the better. He wouldn't want anyone to see him like this anyways.
He vacantly wondered if he should be shivering.
Things started happening in short bursts. He was so cold, and his vision was starting to blur at the edges. His suit was sopping wet and his feet were completely numb as he trudged through the falling snow. Suddenly, his foot caught on a divot in the ground and it sent him unceremoniously crashing to his knees. He couldn't even register the pain of the bones knocking against the pavement.
His entire body was numb. He wasn’t shivering. Snow was falling on him and stayed perfectly intact, not even beginning to melt.
He knew, in the back of his mind, that this was bad. Very bad. Needed-to-call-someone-or-he’d-die kind of bad.
It took great mental effort, but he somehow pulled out his phone and watched as it nearly slipped from his clumsy hands. He wasn’t even registering the feeling of the phone in his hand at this point. This confused him.
It was painfully slow, but he managed to open Simons contact. If anyone knew how to help him, it would be Simon. Simon was always there for him. He was steadfast and warm. Yeah, Simon could help him.
He tapped out a message that simply read, “cold. help” before letting his phone fall to the ground.
He sank to his knees and hugged his arms close to his body, but it didn’t help. Nothing did. Everything was viciously numb and he felt himself blink dizzily. His mind suddenly felt as if it was moving through molasses.
..What was he doing out here again?
Oh right. Highschoolers. Frozen lake. That was stupid of them. He remembered his mother's voice telling him to stay away from the edge of the riverbank when he was a kid.
He distantly wondered if their mother's told them the same thing.
He missed his mom. She would always make him hot cocoa and puff warm air on his hands and fluff his blankets in the drier when he came in from playing in the snow.
Why wasn't she here now?
Was anyone coming for him?
Was he going to freeze to death in this park? Alone and scared?
He was starting to regret hiding from the paramedics.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, mind a million miles away, but suddenly, he heard the rapid crunching of snow in front of him. He wanted to look up, he really did, but he found his muscles wouldn’t respond to his demand. He must have been dreaming.
“Archie! There you are!” Simon breathed, kneeling beside his friend. "Shit.."
Simon fumbled with his gloves, but eventually worked his hand out and pressed his fingers to Archie’s neck to gauge his pulse. He nearly gasped at how cold the skin beneath them were. He gently lifted his face to get a better look at him. His pulse was there, but it was alarmingly weak.
His lips were sickly blue and his eyes were hazy and unfocused. He didn’t’ even seem to recognize Simon right in front of him. The worst part, though, was the eery stillness. Archie was too silent and too unmoving. Simon needed to get him shivering and quick.
Simon brushed his fingers across Archie’s cheek, to which Archie let out a pained gasp and recoiled away.
“Burns..” He slurred, letting his head loll to the side.
“You’re just frozen, Archie..” Simon muttered, shrugging off his own coat and buttoning it around Archie’s limp form. He chafed up and down his arms, attempting to coax warmth into his frozen friend.
“We need to get you to my apartment.. can you walk?”
“Simon..” He finally whimpered, blinking blearily at the other. Simon could have sworn he saw a glint of desperation in Archie's eyes.
“Right, stupid question. Onto plan B,” He huffed, hooking his arms under Archie's legs and around his shoulders. He let out a stifled gasp at just how cold he really was.
As soon as they were in the car, Simon blasted the heat as high as it would go, and he still saw no improvement in Archie’s condition. On the contrary, Archie just seemed to grow even more drowsy. Simon gently shook Archie’s knee, hoping to get him to stir.
“Hey, c’mon.. you gotta stay awake.. at least until we’re home..” He pleaded, speeding up the car just a bit.
Archie gave a wet cough and let his head fall forward, still seemingly unaware of his surroundings.
“We’re almost home.. I promise..”
Once the car was parked, Simon made quick work of carrying Archie up the stairs and getting him situated on the couch. He helped him peel off the wet clothes, and then covered him with mounds and mounds of blankets. He then plugged in every space heater he owned, safety concerns be damned, and pointed them right at the heap of bedding. 
He recalled everything he had ever learned about treating hypothermia.
Bring out of the cold. Check.
Remove wet clothing. Check.
Insulate with blankets and towels. Check.
Apply warm compresses.
Right.
Simon jogged to his closet in the hallway and rummaged around before finding some old hot water bottles. They were a bit rudimentary, but they would have to do. He left Archie on the couch while he swiftly boiled water and filled them. He then wrapped them in hand towels and returned to Archie with his arms full of glorious warmth.
Archie blinked up at him, and Simon noticed, with great relief, the tremors that wracked his body. They were violent and all-consuming, but at least he was shivering.
“C-Can.. can I t-take a hot ba-bath..” He slurred, looking up at Simon with pleading eyes.
The sight shattered his heart into a million pieces. Simon sighed softly.
“I’m sorry.. we can’t risk you going into shock.. we’ll warm you up other ways, okay?” He murmured, carefully peeling back the layers of blankets.
At that, Archie gave another intense shudder as his pale skin was exposed to the air. A soft cry escaped his lips as he instinctively curled in on himself.
“H-Hurts..” He whimpered, clawing at the blankets.
“I know, I know..” Simon whispered, leaning over to place a heat pack on Archie's chest. He then laid one on his neck and groin and replaced the blankets around him.
"There.. that should help you feel a bit warmer," Simon explained softly, giving Archie another once-over.
The shivering only got more vicious as Archie seized up with every small movement. His teeth were chattering violently and the force of the trembling even shook the couch.
“S-Simon.. Simon I’m so cold.. c-can’t.. can’t take it,” He sobbed, trying to sink further into the fabric around him.
Simon felt his heart shatter even more. He’d seen Archie come back from having a building collapse on him, and he still didn’t look as pitiful as he did now. Even though he was more lucid now, his eyes still had that far-away look at made Simon just want to hold him close and tell him he'd be alright.
So he did.
He vaguely remembered hearing in one of his classes that body heat could be effective at warming someone up and.. well, no time like the present.
Simon lifted the covers and carefully slid in beside Archie, getting himself settled before turning towards him and opening his arms.
“C’mere.. this will help..” He muttered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feign annoyance. Not when Archie was looking at him like he just told him he’d won the lottery.
Archie immediately latched himself onto Simon’s side, and now Simon could really feel how much Archie was shaking. His entire frame was convulsing with ferocious shakes that had to hurt. Archie would definitely be feeling it in the morning.
Still, Simon wrapped his arms around Archie and drew him closer. He gently smoothed a hand up and down Archie’s back in an attempt to soothe him, and if the way Archie leaned into it was any indicator, it was working.
After a while of comfortable silence, save for the soft chattering of Archie’s teeth, the shivers finally began to ease up. They were still there and rather exhausting no doubt, but they weren’t so intense anymore.
Simon thought of his mental checklist again, and recalled something about a warm drink to help with the chills. He'd been laying with Archie long enough, and surely he would appreciate a steaming cup of chamomile.
Simon moved to get up, easing Archie off his arm, to which Archie let out a panicked yelp and all but yanked him back down.
“Woah! I’m just gonna go get you some tea! It’ll help! I promise!” Simon pleaded, huffing a soft laugh.
“No! No.. p-please just.. just stay for a f-few more minutes..” Archie begged, weakly grasping at Simon’s sweater.
Simon playfully rolled his eyes and leaned back, letting Archie snuggle right back up to him.
“Alright.. just a few more minutes..”
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
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changingplumbob · 1 month
Text
Knightstone Household: Chapter 9, Part 8
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The good thing about a day at home? Suzanna could normally fit in a workout. She hadn’t been able to run with the heavy snow but in the afternoon it cleared up. She had rung Ethelyn and convinced her to come and keep an eye on her sons, since it was the other alien who had passed along the bug. Suzanna was growing to like Chestnut Ridge. As well as the strong alien population the vistas were beautiful, and looked incredible covered in snow. She felt herself get the self discovery pop up and urged the watcher to choose yes, she was an active sim now!
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When Silas had finished his piano practice he returned to his spot on the computer. It was his childhood ambition to max his mental skill and he wanted to get some practice in. Pol had picked up his tablet and followed his older brother. He was happily chatting away while Silas listened to his stories and theories about the human world.
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Adam had a pretty slow day at work. Normally the winter months would see an influx of art to critique with sims trapped indoors but with the holiday season most artists were taking time off to be with their loved ones. After he finished his very brief list of tasks and done some self appointed research he’d headed to the office lounge. There he met Alexander and the two spent the afternoon discussing the latest festival turnouts and playing paper football. When he got back home Suzanna was busy in the basement but he heard laughing coming from the office.
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Adam: I think too much fun is being had in here
Pollock: *almost dying of laughter*
Silas: Ah phooey, I was just doing my Donald Duck impression
Adam: Not bad son
Silas: Daddy, do you think we’re better at voices because we have to put on human voices?
Adam: That sounds dangerously close to a biology question and you know your Mummy is the one to ask for that. Come on, dinner time
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The family grouped up in the dining room and Adam got a plate especially for Pollock so he could eat the same as them.
Adam: Are you feeling better now Silas
Silas: Yes Daddy, the stomach bug is all gone
Suzanna: Did you have a good day at work
Adam: Honestly me and this guy called Alexander were the only ones in the whole office, it was weird. He seems okay for a human, although he tried to ask me what my salary was about a dozen times. I think he’s a bit money obsessed
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After Suzanna had given Pollock a bath and put him to bed Silas came and asked if they could make a snowpal.
Suzanna: I don’t know, you’ve only just gotten over your bug
Silas: I’ll wrap up warm, I promise
In the end Suzanna relented and the pair headed out the front door to a nice patch of snow.
Silas: Mummy did you make snowpals when you were my age
Suzanna: I’ve never been your age, I came into the world as a young adult with a backstory
Silas: *blinks in confusion* ...Mummy did you make snowpals when you were my age
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The pair have managed to get a three level snowman by the time Adam comes outside.
Adam: Looking good
Silas: Daddy, Mummy has been telling me all about the watcher and mods
Suzanna: Just as concepts, not truths. I said it’s what I believe
Silas: What do you believe Daddy
Adam: That this world is far to complex to have been created by just one person, and if someone was deliberate about it then they did a bad job not leaving an alien colony on Sixam
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Suzanna: But you can choose to believe what you like about how we came to be Silas
Adam: Indeed. It’s what feels right to you
Silas: I think I need to think about it more, but not now, because we made a snowpal!
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Adam: And a very fine one it is to. Hey Silas do you think you could take a quick photo of your Mummy and I
Suzanna: Oh Adam I’m hardly dressed to impress
Adam: You always impress me, no matter what you're wearing, now come and smile that beautiful smile
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Silas: Can we have a snowball fight Daddy
Adam: Sure, but no ice balls
Suzanna: I’d be careful Silas, your Daddy can have a short fuse
Adam: I’ll try to breathe. You don’t want to play
Suzanna: Definitely not. It’s much safer for me to lie here and make snow angels
The snowball fight was short. Silas’s third snowball hit Adam square in the eye and he called foul. He still gave his son a hug before sending him to bed though.
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Suzanna: I love you in winter light, it brings out your blue
Adam: Well I love you in any light Mrs Knightstone
Suzanna: Flattery will get you everywhere
Adam chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He ran his hand across her cheek and she swooned. When he pulled her in for a kiss she suggested they head upstairs to share their body warmth. Well Adam was not one to turn down a scientific proposal from his wife.
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Fixing Tracy — Communication
TWs in the tags
Masterlist
Molly knocks on Tracy’s bedroom door. “Dear? Are you hungry? I made you lunch."
Tracy sighs before unlocking and opening the door. It’s not like a lock could ever actually keep her safe, anyway, and she’s not going to get any closer to escaping by staying in her room all day.
Molly holds out a plate with a sandwich and grapes, and Tracy takes it.
“How’s your eye? Do you want a painkiller?”
Tracy shakes her head. There’s no way she’d ever accept pills from Molly.
“I’m really sorry.” Molly’s voice is strained and her eyes are misty. Tracy wants to hit her— how can she feel so guilty that she’s on the verge of tears but still not even consider letting Tracy go??
“Stop. Stop apologizing, I don’t want an apology unless it comes with being let out of here.”
Molly sniffles. “Okay. Sor— okay. I won’t apologize if it upsets you. Do you… want to restart the movie we were watching earlier?”
“…fine.” Staying in her room won’t accomplish anything. This way she can at least…
Well, surely spending time with Molly will accomplish something, if staying in her room won’t. She just hasn’t figured out what it’ll accomplish yet.
While Molly puts the movie back on, Tracy eats her lunch. When she’s done, she just drops the plate and lets it fall onto the carpet. Molly quickly scoops it up and takes it to the kitchen.
Tracy sits in the farthest seat from Molly’s usual spot on the couch. The movie is something animated with a lot of mice, but Tracy's having trouble focusing on it. Her only plan for escape once again involves waiting until nightfall, and she hates it. She wishes she'd asked Molly to put on the video game she played yesterday instead, at least that stopped her mind from wandering. Now all she can think about is how trapped she is.
Fuck, if she can't escape soon, her sister won't even know what happened. Alicia will think Tracy abandoned her, just… up and left without even saying goodbye, despite all the promises Tracy made about getting custody of her.
She's probably already hurting. She's probably tried to call or text Tracy in the time since Molly kidnapped her, and she probably thinks Tracy's ignoring her. Every second she stays here is a second for Alicia to wonder if Tracy's mad at her and worry herself sick, and Tracy's completely trapped and powerless. Alicia is hurting because Tracy's not there for her and she can't be there for her and what if she gets hurt by someone else?? Tracy's not there to protect her, anything could happen!
Molly leaves the kitchen. "Do you want a snack while we watch the movie? Popcorn? Hot chocolate? Ice cream? I'll get you anything you wan– What's wrong?"
Tracy realizes she's crying and wipes her eyes. "I want to go home!"
"No, you don't. What's really wrong?"
The tears won't stop falling. "My sister's going to think I hate her! She'll be crushed if I never come back, she'll have no one, and– and I miss her! I want to go home!"
"Alicia is fine, and I'm always willing to bring her to you if you just ask." Molly reaches out to touch Tracy, but stops herself.
"No! Let me go, stop– I'm scared, you're scaring me, I don't want to be here!"
"I know, dear." Her voice is shaky. "I have your phone. I can send her something so she knows you didn't abandon her, how does that sound?"
Of course she has Tracy's phone. Of course. Tracy digs her fingernails into her palms to try and stop herself from doing something that’ll get her shocked by the cattle prod.
“Have you— have you been using it? Have you been texting her?”
Molly shakes her head. “I’m… not confident in my ability to imitate you, even over text. And recently you made it clear you didn’t want me to interfere with her.”
Tracy gets up and starts pacing, trying to expel the blistering anger growing inside of her without attacking Molly. “Has she texted me?”
“Yes. She texts you memes and complaints about her teachers, and she doesn’t seem to suspect anything.”
Tracy punches the nearest wall with as much force as she can muster. Unsurprisingly, all that accomplishes is making her knuckles hurt. "Is there any way you'd tell her the truth? That I'm being held against my will?"
"No, I can't do that. The risk of you being found would be too great. Do you want me to grab you a pillow to hit, dear? I don't want you to hurt your hand."
Was the basement always this small? The walls seem to be closing in. "No, I'm fine. Could you– would you– what about telling her that I was forced to leave by something out of my control and that I'm trying to get back to her?"
"You'd be giving her false hope, unless you plan on taking me up on my offer to bring her to you. But yes, I can tell her that."
"Great, do that now." At least she can be honest with Alicia, even in this vague way. "And tell her that I love her and miss her, and that if I can't answer texts for a while it has nothing to do with her and everything to do with me being in a bad situation."
"Your phone is upstairs, is it okay if I leave you for a minute to go do that?"
"Yes, go!"
"You won't find some way to hurt yourself while I'm gone?"
"I won't, just go!"
"I'll be right back, then."
As Molly unlocks the basement door, the thought that Tracy could try pushing past her and running up the stairs forms instinctually. But there's another door at the top of the stairs, and she'd probably get shocked in 'self defense' just for trying. Tracy's only option is to watch one of the doors keeping her trapped here open and close without doing anything about it.
Looking for a distraction, Tracy peruses Molly's many bookshelves while she waits. It's a very wide variety, carefully organized alphabetically by author. There are quite a few college textbooks, which seems like a very expensive choice for a personal library.
The bookshelf full of games has a bunch of jigsaw puzzles as well as the board and card games. Tracy can't remember the last time she put together a jigsaw puzzle. Maybe it could be a way to distract herself while waiting for the sun to set.
Molly comes back with a backpack that she sets in the corner of the room. "I sent what you said to Alicia. Do you feel better?"
"I feel… less worried about Alicia. What's the bag for?"
"I said I'd bring rope in case I needed it to restrain you, remember? That way you can have more range of movement than you did while restrained by my belt."
"...right."
"Do you want popcorn or anything?"
Tracy shakes her head and Molly sits in her usual spot on the couch.
Tracy takes a flower-themed jigsaw puzzle from the bookshelf. She's not sure if the table will be big enough for it, so she just dumps it out onto the soft carpet and starts sorting edge pieces, feeling a bit rebellious for doing so without asking.
“Oh! Can I join you?” Molly asks.
“I can’t stop you.”
“I won’t join if you don’t want me to, dear.”
Well… maybe it’ll make it more believable to ask for Molly to stay the night if Tracy agrees? Maybe she can make it seem like she’s desperate for company, even from someone she hates. “…you can join me.”
“Yay!” Molly plops down next to Tracy on the floor. “I can start sorting the non-edge pieces by color, does that sound good?”
Tracy nods and keeps sorting.
With a task in front of her, it’s easier to pay attention to the movie. It seems to be some kind of Sherlock Holmes parody? Molly’s taste in movies is… interesting. She’d offered to let Tracy choose the movie, but when Tracy declined, this kid’s movie is what Molly picked. Maybe Molly sees her as a child.
They spend hours on the puzzle. When the movie ends, Molly puts on another one (again, Tracy is given the option to choose, and again she refuses). They make it through four more movies before Molly takes a break to go make dinner.
Tracy barely notices that Molly left, or the movie finishing soon after. She manages to finish the puzzle on her own, which is very satisfying.
As she basks in her victory, she starts to notice the consequences of working on a puzzle for 7 straight hours. Spending the whole time on the ground can’t have helped. Her back and knees ache, her mouth is dry, and she’s really hungry.
A heavenly smell draws her to the kitchen. Molly smiles when she sees Tracy.
“Did you finish the puzzle? I hope there weren’t any pieces missing.”
“There weren’t.”
“Perfect! I counted all the pieces in those puzzles before you got here, but I could’ve made mistakes. But I didn’t! At least not with that one. I’m almost done with this garlic pasta, does that sound good?”
“…how do you— you said you stocked the kitchen with my favorite foods, and now you’re making my favorite meal. How do you know stuff like that?”
“…I think that would just upset you. What would you like for sides?”
“Huh? Oh…” she could keep pushing, but Molly’s right. It would just upset her, and she can’t do anything about it. “A salad is fine as a side.”
There are premade salads already in the fridge, so Tracy just gets one herself and pours it into two bowls, assuming Molly’s going to want to eat with her. She tosses the now empty bag into the trash. Molly prepares two plates of pasta, and the two of them go to the table for their meal.
Hunger and habit make Tracy want to eat as fast as she can, but she eats slowly anyway. It’s a small show of trust, implying that Tracy trusts Molly to not take food from her. That’ll make it more believable when she asks Molly to sleep down here.
“How’re your hands?”
“Fine.”
“I’ll help you replace the bandages after dinner. How’s… how’s your eye?”
Tracy’s very familiar with black eyes, and she knows this one isn’t very bad, probably because Molly iced it right away. “Fine.”
“Let me know if you want any pain medication, okay?”
“Mhm.”
They eat in silence for a bit before Molly clears her throat. “Tracy? It’s been a couple of days, and you haven’t changed clothes since you got here. Which is fine! I’m just… would you mind telling me why?”
Despite knowing about the closet and dresser full of her stolen clothes, it hasn’t even occurred to Tracy to change. “I don’t plan on staying for long.”
“What does that have to do with changing your clothes?”
“Do you have a camera in my room or something? Why are you so insistent about this?”
“I don’t have a camera in your room, or anywhere down here. I’m just concerned. Wouldn’t you be, if someone you cared about started to neglect their hygiene?”
“You don’t—“ Tracy cuts herself off and takes a deep breath. What does Molly want to hear? “You’re right. I should probably shower and brush my teeth, too.”
Molly brightens. “Good idea!”
Tracy finishes her dinner and grabs some pajamas from her dresser. She showers, puts on the pajamas, and brushes her teeth. Molly got her a new toothbrush and toothpaste, but they’re the same brand as the ones at home. The soaps in the shower are also familiar brands. How does Molly know all this?
It’s alright. This is her last night here.
When she leaves the bathroom, she finds Molly curled up on the couch, reading a book.
“Oh, hi dear. Come here, I’ll rebandage your hands.”
Tracy had removed the bandages to shower. She doesn’t think her hands really need to be rebandaged, but she lets Molly do it anyway, after tossing the bundle of clothes she was wearing before into her room.
“Are you feeling tired, dear? I’m about ready for bed. Are you okay with me going upstairs for the night?”
“…No. Please stay with me.”
Molly smiles. “Of course! I’m so glad you feel safe enough to ask me to stay. Is it okay if I go up for just a minute to change into my pajamas?”
“Oh, yeah. That’s fine.”
“I’ll be right back.” Molly makes sure to grab the backpack before she goes upstairs.
Tracy knows she’ll only be waiting a few minutes, but she still can’t just sit and do nothing. She paces around until Molly returns.
Molly comes back with the backpack, a pillow, and a blanket. “Where do you want me?”
Tracy had kind of expected Molly to want to share the bed, so it takes her a second to realize what Molly’s asking. “Oh, um… the couch?” She won’t be able to watch Molly and know exactly when she falls asleep, but that wasn’t necessary anyway.
Molly puts the backpack next to the couch and sets up her blanket and pillow. She doesn’t seem to be in a rush to go to sleep, instead she opens her book back up and starts reading.
She’ll go to sleep eventually. Tracy heads into the bedroom.
“Goodnight, dear. I love you.”
“…goodnight.”
Just one more long wait, and she’ll be able to go home.
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tokusaatsus · 2 years
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WHEN THERE’S A BUG IN YOUR ROOM
ft. itsuki shu, morisawa chiaki, otogari adonis, ran nagisa, saegusa ibara
© tokusaatsus 2022
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warnings: bugs
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Shu hears your call–Shu, can you come here, please–and comes to check on you, but you shouldn’t expect any help from him.
The minute he catches sight of the bug, he’s squawking indignantly. He’s not above using you as a human shield in this scenario. No matter how much he loves you, there’s absolutely nothing you can say that will convince him to go anywhere near that–in his words–disgusting insult to art.
Honestly, he’s just surprised you called him. His aversion to bugs might be even greater than yours, and that’s saying something.
He cowers behind you, and you’re trapped because now you have both a clingy boyfriend and a bug in your room and while your instincts are screaming at you to hide behind Shu, you still recall the piercing shrieks that came out of his mouth when you so much as implied placing him in the so-called line of fire.
In the end, the two of you end up calling Mika to take care of your little…‘home invader’, who’s unable to hold back his look of confusion when he enters your room and spots both you and Shu balanced awkwardly on a chair that was definitely not made to hold more than one person.
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After hearing your call, please come quickly, I need your help, please, Chiaki doesn’t spare a moment before he rushes to your defence. Truly, he is embodying that heroic spirit he adores so much!
While he’s not usually one for bugs, finding them a little off-putting, he sets aside his fear in favour of helping you out. After all, a hero must be able to protect his loved ones to the best of his ability! And it’s true that he loves you very much.
Carefully, carefully, he scoops up the bug with a leftover magazine–his hands are shaking slightly all the while, but he refuses to admit it–and tosses it out the window.
When he’s completed his objective, there’s a moment of silence–he’s scouting to make sure the threat has truly left, so that you may relax in the knowledge that you are safe and secure once again–before he looks at you with a huge grin, clearly waiting for praise and affection. Wow, you were so amazing, Chiaki! My RYUSEI Red, my brave hero~ Once you say those magic words, he melts like ice-cream in the hot sun, a sappy look on his face.
Anything for his beautiful Y/N, of course!
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Adonis is the kind of boyfriend that comes the minute you call.
He’s a little worried and concerned at first, because of how panicked you seemed over the phone. Your voice wavers at awkward moments, caught between a scream and a whimper. Adonis, please, come quick, I’m scared, I’m really scared.
When he shows up, however, and finds out that the cause of your distress is simply a small bug, he can’t help but feel slightly relieved. With the way you were acting, he was expecting much, much worse. Still, this is something he knows how to fix, and for that he is glad. Seeing you terrified causes an ache in his chest, and it is not something he would like to experience anytime soon. Adonis picks it up and deposits it outside, as easy as pie. When he returns, you tackle him in a hug and he runs a soothing hand down your back as you babble on about how terrifyingly huge the bug was and how close it was to you.
(In reality, it was rather small and barely anywhere near you, but if it makes you feel better, Adonis doesn’t mind playing along with this little white lie, patiently comforting you all the while.)
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When you call Nagisa, he’s confused at first.
Of course, Nagisa would never say no to spending more time with you, yet you sounded strangely choked up over the phone, Nagisa, can you come over here, quick, I need you right now. He enters your dorm, surprised to find you cowering in the corner.
When you point out the perpetrator, he can’t help but smile at your antics. It’s an easy task for him to simply remove the bug from the premises with his bare hands, but you look at him with incredibly wide eyes when you watch him and he can’t help but bask in your attention. It’s always nice to have you look at him.
He returns to a hug and a tearful recount of how you were so scared. He soothes you, calmly patting your back as you ramble on and on. You go on to explain how you called because you always feel better when he’s around, and his heart bursts. You inform him that this may become a regular occurrence, and he smiles at you.
He’s not entirely sure what use he would be, yet it warms his heart to think that you would trust him with matters such as these.
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When Ibara first hears your call, filled with barely concealed panic, he won’t deny the worry that surges in his stomach. Ibara, please, come quick, I… Oh, god, I can’t…I’m scared, Ibara. It only intensifies when your call is cut off with an abrupt scream of pure terror.
For a moment, he’s terrified that his worst fears have come true and you’ve been caught in the crossfire of one too many plots gone wrong. He spares not a single second, abandoning everything and anything from meetings to paperwork to go check up on you. Of course, when he finds out that all your drama was due to a simple bug, you can expect him to be the slightest bit annoyed.
There’s not a moment of hesitation as he squashes it, all the while looking at you with an unimpressed expression, as if to say, really? That’s what you were terrified of? Yet when he notices your tears, he is quick to calm you down, gently holding your hands to ground you as speaks rationally and logically to talk you out of the spiral you may have found yourself falling into.
My saviour, you proclaim him to be, and Ibara won’t lie to say that makes him feel the tiniest amount of pleasure when you say those words.
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notes!
WC: 1k words
reze txt inspired by true events that happened to me yesterday evening. there was a huuuge bug in my room and me and my sister spent 20 mins panicking about how to get rid of it b4 it made the decision for us by simply. flying away :’) all the while i was thinking that i would reaaaally appreciate having a bf who could get rid of bugs for me and boom. fic idea.
taglist: @prpne​ @gabirii​ @kazemiya​ @engurishu​ @kkomaism​ @ophanem​ @mikctp​ @lilikags​ @lolthia​ @unwantedsleep (urls in bold cannot be tagged!)
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foxilayde · 1 year
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Thinking about OTTR Leto. That scene from Scarface when they are at restaurant. You’re in a pretty satin dress barley picking at your food. You’re pissed off at him for getting way too high at a special dinner.. he even brought Duncan for god knows what? You were supposed to be gone an hour ago, champagne bottles are empty… the ice cream you didn’t have for dessert is melted. All because Leto ( the stallion HAHA) is rambling about taking over the “spice” lands over on the east.
Thank you for the beautiful prompt! It was inspiring 💚
Tw: drug use, 18+only
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Fucking boys night. It always turns into a boys night. And why wouldn’t it? Every restaurant he’s ever taken you to is one he ‘owns’, one where all his jumped up lackeys like to take their dates as well. And they always greet each other like it’s some big fucking surprise. “This guy! They just let anybody in here, eh?!” Kissing each other on the cheek, slapping each other on the ass. He should just take Duncan out on a fucking date.
Not a single one of them can ever have just a gentleman’s dose of the slopes, can they? Especially Leto. He’s beyond geeked and making such a fucking scene that you start to realize why there’s a connotation about the secret back rooms of gangster affairs in restaurants, why the boss is always ‘in the back’… it’s cause you can’t stick him anywhere near the regular patrons without scaring the paying customers away. Especially with his penchant to wave that fucking Desert Eagle. He takes bumps off of it. The golden piece. Ostentatious, reckless, asshole.
This wasn’t supposed to be business. If you can even call it business, the shit these overgrown boys do— playacting as robbers and robbers. The intimidation. The pageantry. The obnoxious parade of power. You twist your Cartier watch on you wrist to get a look at the time, the gorgeous diamond pavé thing, a gift from Leto. Some I’m sorry baby present, you’re sure. Too many to count. The only thing you can count on is that there’ll likely be another one tomorrow. Yes. In the sober light of day, Leto will wake with a raging headache, depleted tanks of dopamine, and a hundred excuses. You’ll excuse yourself because you won’t be able to look at him and when you get home there will be ten dozen red roses and something shiny enough to distract you until the next time.
It’s almost 3 in the morning. Which means you’ve been sitting at the table by yourself for almost an hour.
He sidles back over to the table and rubs your shoulder with his strong ringed hand, “Hey baby.” He’s so fucking loaded right now and he’s going to insist on driving when the time comes. It takes everything in you to smile and put your hand over his.
“Hey, daddy.”
“You okay over here? You’re being kind of quiet.”
It’s a trap, this line. It’s leading. Before you were versed in the beast of chemicals puppeteering Leto, you would speak your mind— air your aggravations. But the beast is a delicate creature that must be treated tactfully. The beast does not care if you’re “okay” the beast is saying, “I am interpreting your silent non-participatory attitude as you judging me. You’d better reassure me right the fuck now that you’re not.”
So you say, “I’m sorry, Leto. I’m just so so tired.” You smile sleepily to sell it and he does what he always does. He offers you cocaine.
“Got a remedy for that.” He starts to dig in his pocket, but you put a soft hand on his arm and pout your lip for good measure.
“Would you mind if I took the car home? I’m just dead tired and I want to lay down, is that okay?” You try to say it all as sweetly and sympathetically as you can, forcing all the weight and meaning off any syllable that might be interpreted as anything accusatory.
But the beast is sensitive.
“You have the fucking keys, dontcha?” He shoos you away with both hands, laughing derisively, “sulking at the fucking table all night,” he mutters. “Go the fuck home, don’t act like I’m holding you hostage.”
You’re frozen for a moment with hot tears welling up in your eyes. You hate that he can be like this. Talking to you like you’re one of his guys’ nephews who just fucked up a drop.
“What are you waiting for? Go! You’re so damn tired, then leave!”
You’re self conscious, scooting and slipping out of the booth, keeping your eyes on the floor in some vain attempt to not let the room see you’re crying. You hope not everyone is staring but you know they are.
You could yell back, if you wanted, like you used to do in the early days. Something about his rage probably preferred it— the twin fervor and flame of it all. The broken crystal. The name calling… The sex was better then too. You’d be just as loaded and dish it out just as hard and you’d fuck in mutual groveling, passionate with evenly geeked apologies in the back of his Cullinan. But you just can’t bring yourself to do it tonight. You weren’t lying when you told him you were tired.
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fullsunfilm · 10 months
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can we start over? (lee seokmin) — preview
lee seokmin x f!reader
preview of a longer fic in the works
fluff..? (this part at least)
wc: ~1.3k
synopsis: you’ve never been one to give second chances. but for seokmin, you’d do it all over again.
it’s december. you know it is when you feel frosty wind leaking into your apartment even through your cozy puffer jacket. as you peer into your full-body mirror before heading to work, your hands snugly secure a thick scarf around your neck. you doubt it’ll keep the cold out much, but you’ll have to make due.
you head out, shutting the door and turning on your heel to pop your key in the lock. the trek to work is always rough, but you have a feeling that this time will be particularly miserable.
your suspicion is confirmed when you open the door of your complex and are greeted with a shrill howl from the wind. the cold smacks your face as you exit and begin walking to the small cafe you call your second home. a thick blanket of snow covers the sidewalk, making it neary impossible for you to yank your feet forward.
when you reach the cafe, you spot your cat-eyed co-worker wiping off tables. “hey, wonwoo,” you greet, shaking off the snow housed in the crevices of your puffer.
“hey. your car still broken?” he asks.
“mhm. haven’t had the chance to get it fixed yet,” you sigh. you strip yourself of your thick outerwear and slip into your apron. “i don’t have the money, either.”
wonwoo hums in response. “if you need a ride, you can always call, yknow.”
you scoff at his suggestion, laughing a little as you imagine it. “call you? wonwoo, i’m not getting on your death trap bike.”
“it’s not a death trap, it’s safe—”
“it’s so a death trap,” mingyu chimes in from behind the counter as he slides a hot chocolate towards you. you give him a quick thanks before grasping the drink.
wonwoo rolls his eyes, pushing his glasses up a bit as he shifts to spray down the next table. you make your way behind the counter, letting their bickering act as white noise as you clock in for the day and begin organizing the displays.
twenty minutes later, when wonwoo flips the closed sign to open, a rush of customers fills the cafe. you and mingyu get to work, alternating between making drinks, heating pastries, and taking orders. you hate this time of the year, mostly because the cafe gets extra busy with customers who are all extra cranky due to the cold. plus, every time the door opens, you can feel a gust of frost engulf the cash register through your casual sweater and apron.
the day goes by uneventfully. there’s the usual mishaps, such as mingyu dropping a drink and the grumpy customer complaining about their order, but nothing much. by the time you’re ready to leave, it’s late in the evening. wonwoo’s settled behind the register counting bills while mingyu is deep cleaning the espresso maker. it’s almost time to close up, but that doesn’t stop a group of rowdy university students from plowing through the entrance and trickling snow across the wooden floors.
“wonwoo? didn’t know you worked here.” one of them chirps. his navy blue overcoat and matching converse don’t ring any bells in your memory.
wonwoo shrugs. “hey, kwan. looking for gyu? he’s cleaning up right now, but he should be done soon.”
the boy nods and motions for the others to grab a table. “you guys aren’t closed yet, right?”
as you’re about to chime in that you close in five minutes, wonwoo beats you to it. he lets out a soft sigh before slapping on his customer service smile and letting out a reluctant “no.”
when wonwoo begins scribbling notes onto his yellow notepad, you take it as your signal to adjust your apron and take your place behind the counter once more. for some reason, you feel a soft prick at the back of your neck, almost as if you were being watched. you shrug it off before you can think anything more of it and get to work on the array of drinks.
two hazelnut lattes, an iced americano (in this weather?), and a hot chocolate.
mingyu peeps his head out from the back as you and wonwoo finish up the drinks. “hey. i thought we were closed?”
you throw him a scoff. “we were gonna, but we got a few orders. your friends are here, by the way.” you tilt your head in the direction of the group of boys.
at the mention of them, mingyu slinks out from the back room and rushes to greet them. wonwoo huffs. “his friends came and ordered all this, but he isn’t helping.”
a light laugh escapes you in response before you call out the drinks. one by one, the boys stand make their way towards the counter. they all say their quick ‘thank you’s before settling down at their table, mingyu included.
“gyu, are you gonna close up?” wonwoo calls.
mingyu hollers back a clumsy ‘yes’ before returning to his exciting conversation with his friends. you shrug at wonwoo before turning the open sign to closed and returning to spray down the tables.
“i’m off for the night. i can stay if you need a ride, though?” wonwoo asks, pulling his thick hoodie on.
you shake your head. “no, i’ll be fine. it’s only a ten minute walk.”
he doesn’t push the subject any further and waves you goodbye as he leaves. you’re left with the sound of chatter as you polish the few tables you have left and begin your arrangements to leave.
“y/n!” mingyu calls.
you jump at his sudden yell, but turn to face him anyways. “yeah?”
“my friend was asking if—”
“do you have a boyfriend?” one of mingyu’s friends interrupts, a mischievous yet angelic smile flashing onto his lips.
a bit surprised, but intrigued, you shake your head. the table erupts into chatter once more, but is quickly silenced as the navy boy from before pipes up. “are you in the market for one?”
you’re a bit taken aback by the forwardness of it all. mingyu seems to be as well, with his hands covering his face in embarrassment. “i.. guess?” you respond. for a second, you wonder if this is one of those hidden camera pranks you’ve seen on youtube.
“he thinks you’re cute!” the angel boy yells out, pointing to a distressed-looking man in a thick puffer and beanie.
he’s curled in on himself, his face shoved into his hands as his friends all hype him up. his beanie is propped in a way that doesn’t cover his ears, and you can see the tips of them glowing bright crimson. you feel bad for him, because his obvious lack of comfort weighs on you, too.
before you can respond, mingyu stands up with a shriek of his chair. “alright! it’s time for us to close. let’s pick this up when we get to my place, okay?” he says with a forced smile. his gaze is anything but pleasant as he stares daggers into the now devilish face of his friend.
they all shuffle out of their seats and stalk towards the exit. as they file out the door, you return to your task at hand, but feel a soft tap on your shoulder.
when you turn, you’re greeted by the boy from before. his face is still red, and it’s clear that he’s a bit shaken up by the entire ordeal, but his hands have left his face and given you an opening to see how handsome he is. shining eyes, a high, pointed nose, and plump rosy lips. his long legs make you tilt your head upwards to meet his shy gaze. he looks friendly and cute.
“i’m sorry about them,” he starts. it takes you a moment to register his voice. it’s honey-like and forward, and it makes your heart flutter slightly.
you offer him a comforting smile. “it’s alright! i mean, i was really flattered, but i understand if you don’t actually—”
“i do. think you’re cute, i mean.”
the statement breaks your brain for a second. the next thing you know, you feel a lapping heat rush to your cheeks and fill the tips of your ears. “oh.”
when you’re about to start mentally smacking yourself for your dumbfounded response, he smiles shyly at you. it makes you crumble even more. “could we start over? hi, i’m seokmin, and i was wondering if i could get your number?”
a/n: spoiler? i have so much planned for this fic (in particular.. angst.... i'm very excited..)
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bonesbuckleup · 2 years
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oooh snippets from the batfam fics that haven’t been asked already (or also maybe please more snippets from already asked ones?) I just love batfam, okay?
Lemme check here, hang on--Let's go with Tim does Home Alone, an early adoption AU in which a nine-and-a-half year old Tim is unexpectedly home alone at Christmas time when his boarding school had to close for a bug problem and his parents were out of the country. Tiny Tim has also just seen Home Alone for the first time, and has, in true Tim fashion, set up a bunch of Home-Alone-style traps around the townhouse and tried to reenact bits of the movie (going to the grocery store, ordering a pizza, etc etc) to varying degrees of success.
Unknown to him, the bats have recently come into some intel that Drake Industries may or may not be involved with some Crime TBD. On top of that, they're pretty sure that someone involved may have information about their identities (due to reasons I haven't figured out) Since the Drake family is abroad for the holidays, it's a great time for Nightwing and Batman to break in and see if they can find any evidence.
By the time the traps are sprung, it's too late to back out. Tiny Tim becomes convinced he's now a super villain for lighting Nightwing's mullet on fire like that, so he really leans into his new evil role even as he despairs attacking his heroes like this.
Eventually new-to-Robin Jason also shows up, recognizes what's happening, and leads to this snip:
“Hey, yo, Kevin McCallister!” Robin calls out. 
Tim goes still at the name. He should’ve known that Robin would recognize the movie. He wishes Robin was the one to get here, hours ago, before Tim went full dark side. Robin would’ve kept it fun, would have connected the dots sooner, instead of letting Tim accidentally make it scary and bad so fast.
Robin says, “You can come on out, kid, you’re not in trouble.”
Oh, no, Robin’s a liar. Tim wishes he didn’t know that, because he’d like to think that Robin tells the truth, but Tim’s definitely in trouble. Tim shot Batman in the butt with a crossbow. He lit Nightwing’s head on fire. He got them both with the ice. He did these things and he did them at Christmas. He’s a villain, a bad guy, the lowest of the low. It’s Blackgate for Tim, or maybe even Arkham. Tim’s gotta be crazy to be this deep this fast, right? He shrinks down further. He doesn’t think he’ll do well in a jail or asylum.
Robin ventures further into the townhouse. From his hiding spot on the landing, Tim can see him looking around. “I mean it,” he says. “I’m sorry these two dinguses fucked up, uh, messed up your Christmas. I made them wait outside. They’re not gonna bother you anymore. Hello? You here? Kev?”
There’s nothing else for it. Tim stands up and peeks over the railing. Robin clocks the movement immediately, and holds up a hand in a wave. Slowly, very slowly, slow as he can, Tim eases down the stairs until he’s standing in front of the vigilante.
“Macaulay Culkin, I presume,” says Robin.
“M’Tim,” he says, because it’s hard to talk around the painful lump that’s swelling up in his throat.
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