#uh hi im alive again
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mrpenguinpants · 1 year ago
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oh my god I finally got this card (The Hero's Journey and it's one (1) bullshit requirement)
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deoidesign · 3 months ago
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Random update sorry everything is taking so long. I've paused Patreon and I'm working on various things, but some people have started to express concern for my safety/living status so just letting you know I am alive!
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ganondoodle · 6 months ago
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I fully understand the pain you feel with TLOZ now. I mean, I understood it before, but after Arcane becoming League's canon, after watching the second season, I feel so broken and conflicted and like I spent time loving something just for it to amount to nothing.
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reliving my totk nightmares just a few months after finally being able to cope with that
#ganondoodles answers#ganondoodles talks#.... it might actually get even worse with arcane#similar how totks stupid book fucked it over EVEN MORE than the game itself#i made a post about it but the tweets in which the info was written were deleted and i dont have reddit so i saved it as a draft#if it does end up being true and more confirmed than a reddit post#if you want to know#someone (was it necrit?) did an interview with linke (one of the main guys of making arcane) and summarized some info#though some wasnt quite correct so thats probably why the op of the tweets deleted them#anyway- in those screenshots they said alot of shit#my favorites- heimer is alive and characters that died can come back to life (????)#'the arcane' is just another version of magic and the whole weird hexcore bs was just bc it was corrupted- hextech is still real#viktor will come back but he is “something special” (my cursed thought .. varrus retcon- its jayce and viktor now lol)#they indeed planned the last episode to change runeterra and also lead into MULTIPLE SHOWS ALREADY BEING WORKED ON#yep that raven was swain/his raven/raum#they are aiming higher thaN GAME OF THRONES UH OH#they are not done with piltover and zaun characters either- urgot will show up#and my favorite .... VANDERWICK IS ALIVE and STILL split between vander and beast (???literally how????) and he will end up with one#again i dont know if anythign of that will hold up but uuuuh even if half of all they wrote there is halftrue .... pls no#i swear if they fuck up aatrox and mordekaiser im might just stop believing in anything ever again and lock myself in a box
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hdra77 · 1 year ago
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"are you happy to see me again, jeraldy?"
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I thought I lost the log in for this page
Uhhh thanks for 50k???? What the heck!!!
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i-loved-silly · 10 months ago
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WOLVERINE x READER x DEADPOOL — fuckup twinsies
dp&w spoilers!!
So I had a silly idea. Sorry if it’s out of character, I haven’t written for canon characters in a fat while but these two are stuck in my head. Enjoy :3
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POV: you’re a dimension hopper : sent to the Void as a punishment for doing your thing. Damnit
Dust. Sand. Desert. That was all you knew ever since you were banished here. The place you were basically forced to call home—funnily enough, (actually it’s rather sad) you had forgotten what your real home was. A large, and I mean LARGE amount of timeline touching and dimension hopping does that to you.
By spending years of visiting dimensions and maybe messing a couple things up, you damaged your own timeline. Simply because you wanted to take Mr Captain America’s shield back to your home dimension. What can you say, a little artifact doesn’t hurt, right?
Except it did.
Now you’re stuck here, and honestly? It’s fine. You had nothing to return to anyway. At least you thought. TVA explained it that way, anyways. Everything was fine. You spent your years here surviving and avoiding Cassandra Nova by making your own little underground hobbit hole. How cute.
Everything was the same everyday—you hid out, occasionally left to find food and materials, came back to safety. Until one day you heard something while out scavenging—almost like distant yells? From above you??—You looked up and was shocked to see two figures falling out of the sky and barreling straight for you.
"OOMF --" You were thrown onto the sand on your back, you swore you felt a couple bones break...or something. All your belongings in your little ripped backpack went flying around you and the others stabbed into your back. Then there was the weight on top of you. A muscular , red, and talkative weight.
"Owww, oh fuck, that hurt. I hit bones. I just hit someon--oh." Deadpool groaned, snapping his elbows back into place to get a good look at you. He blinked. "Well lookey here, who the hell are you? Wait, did i kill them?" He gasped as he saw your pained scowl.
Wade frantically shook you by the shoulders. Getting hit by something from that high should have killed you. You coughed, ugh...your whole body hurt. You don’t remember if you gave yourself overpowered abilities before hopping into this dimension…or the last one. Was it during the time you went to the Loki-verse? Season one, episode five? Nah.
"Get off of them," Logan grunted, dusting himself off from his spot a few feet away. Hey, at least you weren’t hit by both of them. "See what you did, you fucking idiot? Get away from them."
"Woah, okay! First of all, it's not like I wanted to crash into someone like a wrecking ball, got it? I am not Miley. But look, they're fine!" He shook you by the shoulder again and you spat out a bit of blood.
"Guhh..." You groaned, rolling over. Yep, your bones were definetly crushed.
"We're not here to poke around, Wade. We're on a mission." Logan glanced at your beat up form wearily--oh well, if you weren't dead by now you'll be fine.
"Fine," Wade let go of you, letting your body flop back onto the sand with another "thud" on impact. "Oops, Im sooo sorry. I-..oh come on! Don't you have at least a little bit of a curious tickle? They can help us." He whined, gesturing to you and to Logan.
"They're a stranger, bub. Just...leave em there." He hesitated, then grunted and turned the other way.
You groaned in pain again--seems like they're your only lines--and sat up on your elbows. Your head was pounding and suddenly it was too bright outside. "W-wait..I’m fine..just let me.." You pressed your palm against your forehead.
Wade leaned down in front of you, placing his hands on his knees. "Oh, you're alive. Good. Why are you here, little buddy?"
You tried laughing nervously but a cough interrupted you. Right, there was sand in your lungs. "I uh...couple years ago I touched a timeline I shouldn't have. More like, a lot of timelines. Kinda-sorta fucked up."
Wade let out a loud gasp and placed his hands on the sides of his face, then made a giddy noise. "Eek! Fuck up twinsies! You heard that, Logan? We aren't the only dimensional fuck ups!" He was oddly enthusiastic, the scruffy guy in the distance wasn't so much.
Actually now that you think about it, he seemed a bit enraged. Just a bit. “Who the hell is we?”
"Who are you again?" You muttered, grunting as you worked on standing up. Wade extended a hand and you took it, before you could thank him—he quite literally yanked you up by the arm like a fucking ragdoll. You hit his chest and your eyes widdened.
"How the heck do you not know me? I mean you probably don’t know him, that sexy beast of a man is Logan, professionally Wolverine. Not a very good one though. Anyway, I'm Wade Wilson, but you can call me Wade. Or Deadpool. Or the Merc with a Mouth. Or the Chimichanga Bandit. Or—"
"Wade, shut the fuck up."
Wait.
“Wait, you’re Deadpool and Wolverine? Like the real ones?”
PART 2
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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 months ago
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a new dawn begins | m.g. x gn!reader
“y/n! i have the best news ever!” mark screamed over the phone, needing to pull it away from the ear for a moment. you smiled to yourself as you replied, “and whats this amazing news that you’re willing to break my eardrums for?”
“okay, uh, actually i gotta show you. it’s super secret, so i’ll be over in like two minutes.” and before you could say anything the line went dead and you just shook your head. as hyper and energetic still since middle school, just less scrapes and bruises now.
a soft tapping caught your ears, it happened two more times in a row before it was followed by, “y/n! open the window!” you were on the second floor without a tree near by. confusion covered your face as your slid the window up to stick your head out the frame and down at mark’s beaming face.
“you can’t get-“ and your sentence died off when mark started hovering above the ground and then all the way up to your window. face to face with you, you were speechless.
“guess who got their powers!” mark whispered with controlled enthusiasm. you knew about his dad being omniman, and marks mentioned in the past that he should develop them too, but holy shit, seeing it in person was so much different.
“can i come in?” mark asked hesitantly. you were still quiet, trying to process the image before you. taking slow steps away from the sill, mark pushed himself in and let his feet his solid ground again. he bit into his bottom lip while watching you.
“surprise. i mean a surprise for both of us, cause i thought i wasn’t ever gonna get them, but i get how it’s a huge surprise for you. i mean you hardly believed me when i told you my dad was a freaking superhero…” mark trailed off, either not knowing what else to say or now nervous by your unannounced reaction. “are-are you mad at-at me?”
that caused you to blink twice and give a quick shake of your head, hands waving in front of you. “of course not. nothing about this makes me angry, also i wouldn’t have the right to be angry about it anyway, im just…processing very slowly.” making your way to your bed and sitting on the edge.
mark stayed near your window, keeping a distance between the both of you at the moment. a hand snuck into the back of his hair while his eyes focused to the floor, “i’m-i’m still me. you know.”
a smile to your lips, “of course you are mark. i-i think it just hit me.” brows pinching in the middle, “you…you have powers. you’ll probably want to go help people and put yourself in danger, and that makes me…it makes me feel nervous.” you admitted.
neither of you said anything for a beat, then mark joined you, the mattress dipping with his added weight. “you know, i don’t think i really thought that far ahead. i just got so excited that i’ll be like my dad, this is something i can join him on. i can bench press like, a whole building. i can fly anywhere in the world.”
you were watching his profile, his eyes sparkling with wonder of new possibilities. then a slight frown appeared on his face, “but you’re right. i’ll want to help people, this feels like a responsibility. i can’t just have these powers and not help.”
“and that’s very brave and selfless of you.” touching his shoulder, “i-i just want you to remember that you’re family and friends, we want to see you alive and happy. if you ever just need a break, there’s other hero’s that can handle it for the day. you don’t need to break yourself to keep everyone else together.”
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gothic-thoughts · 7 months ago
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Scariest Promotion Ever
(im tired of hiding my love for him yall, Im coming out as a slasher lover)
Michael Myers x Black Fem Reader Fluff
MeetCute(?), Nurse!Reader, AsylumPatient!Michael
Part 2: Here
CW: Your first time meeting Michael and his threatening ass aura in person, hair pulling, fear, crying
Word Count: 1489 (give or take)
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The guards opened the door and moved aside for me to enter but I was frozen. They looked at me expectantly, but all I could do was clutch my clipboard to my chest and tremble as my eyes search the dark room for the patient I was supposed to be watching. I look back at the guards, voice shaking. 
“W-why did the last nurse quit again...?”
The guards look at each other a little worried then back at me.
“Quit?” One asked.
“They... told me she quit.”
“Uh, sure... Technically she did "quit" the job... forever...”
“...What...?”
“He, uh...” The other guard joined in, “He didn't like her I guess.”
“They usually last a whole lot longer than she did. She was so scared of him that she barely spoke to him and...”
I gulp thickly, “And...?”
“He strangled her... before he removed her face...”
I gasp, turning to look back into the dimness of Michael’s room, the only light being the gloomy sunlight seeping through the barred window on the other side of the area. My breath catches in my throat and my stomach burns and bubbles with fear. The guards assured me that the door would stay open now when nurses visit him specifically because of the incident, hoping that I'd calm down.
But of course, my only thought was to make sure I talked to him.
I hesitantly step over the threshold of his doorway with the 2 guards remaining just outside to monitor me— or rather, monitor Michael Myers, making sure he doesn't kill me or at the very least become violent. His room is cold, dark, and... full of masks. I examine the few that I could see with the sun pouring in through the window before scanning the dark side of the room until my eyes lay on the eerily still figure sitting on the bed against the opposite wall. I gulp softly, swallowing my vomit at the stomach-tightening realization that he was most likely watching me since the door opened.
“Uh... H-hi Michael...”
No words. I couldn’t even see him blink because of that orange papier-mâché mask he was wearing. The only way I knew he was even alive was the slow rise and fall of his broad chest. His masked face never moved or turned, it stayed focused on me— analyzing me— before his head slightly tilted to the right. After a few more seconds of deafening silence, Michael slowly stands up, making my eyes drift upwards to watch him essentially grow until he’s standing at 6’9” making me realize another thing my boss left out about him— his fucking height.
“Wow... Um, I-I'm your n-new nurse... I'm just here to watch you and... a-and...”
When he begins to walk it scares a sharp gasp out of me, which he didn’t even acknowledge. His steps are heavy and threateningly slow so I back away at the same pace, hoping to somehow get to the door before he could hurt me. That’s when I heard the door slam with a small, muffled apology thrown my way; something about not wanting him to get out.
I shake, forcing myself to calm down enough until I feel the door against my back. Michael continues to get closer, towering over me as he is practically trapping me against the door, and he still hasn’t said a word. I flinch away, shut my eyes, and hold my clipboard in front of my face as some wack form of protection for it only for it to be ripped from my hands and tossed across the room with a clatter.
I yelp, tears brimming my eyes as I reach back and paw at the door, looking for the handle but Michael’s head tilts, an indication that he caught on before he swiftly grabs my wrist with one of his huge hands causing a terrified shriek to leave my lips. The guards bang on the door and call his name, trying to get his attention.
“Michael!” One called, "Michael stop!"
“Michael, get away from the door and leave her alone!”
“She’s just here to help you!”
“You gotta give her a chance!”
He still hasn’t spoken, just remained eerily still as he looked down at my tear-streaked face. After a few seconds, his free hand grabs the couple of box braids in front of my face tightly, fingers slowly rubbing up and down the duo-colored strands. I wince at the slight pain and shock before I look up at him with pleading eyes and hushed whimpers. He slowly lifts the braids higher to his face before letting them slip through his fingers to fall back to my chest. He firmly grabs them and lifts them again, the tautness in my scalp causing me to move closer to him in hopes of relieving it. I sniffle, watching him with confusion.
“Y-you like them..?”
No words— I don’t even think he heard me, but he keeps threading the thin, silky strands through his thick fingers. He suddenly yanks them to bring them closer.
“Agh!” I swat his hand away with my free hand, “That hurts!”
His hand suddenly stops moving and I begin crying again, trying to step back as my brain swirls with regret as I realize what I did. He suddenly encloses the 4 braids in a giant fist and tightens his hand on my wrist as I start to sob softly.
“No no no no no, okay... I'm sorry, okay?” I whimper, gasping for air, “I'm sorry, I’m so sorry... It was just instinct 'cause it hurt... y-you have to be gentle if you like them...”
He grunts under his mask then opens his fist, letting my braids drape over his index finger as he strokes it gently with his thumb. My eyes widen slightly; he actually listened.
“Y-yeah... Yeah, like that... There you go...”
He gently continues to run his fingers over the hair, letting out a much softer huff.
“U-um...” I wipe my tears, trying to stay calm, “They're called box braids... they're braided into my h-hair to protect it... A-and sometimes... it's a little tight on my scalp so it hurts when it’s pulled... that's why I swatted you... it was an instinct, I’m sorry...”
His head nods so slightly that I almost didn’t notice. He was listening to me... and he seemed to be following instructions. I continue to look up at his orange mask, my eyes occasionally drifting back to his large fingers playing with the four braids. I looked into the eyeholes of the mask in an attempt to see what his eyes looked like since his body language was much calmer now, meaning that hopefully, he was less likely to react. His eyes suddenly snap to mine, the cold, pale blue irises sending a chill through my body. Michael huffs heavily again, his fingers slowly leaving the braids to which I let out a sigh of relief.
“Uh, it's time for lunch... A-are you hungry?”
His head tilted before he released my wrist and backed up so I took it as a yes and slowly stepped out of the way of the door as I opened it, allowing him to step out with slow, heavy steps that made the guards back up and rest their hands over their tasers. But he just stands there, towering over us and staring down at me. Even when the guards call for him, he remains still. Eerily still. I look at the two guards, then back at the 6’9” killer, wondering why he opted to stare at me instead of walking with them.
“Um... Michael... I thought you were hungry.”
Silence. He steps a little closer to me.
“O-oh... Oh, you're following me...?”
A subtle nod is all it took for my body to completely relax at the realization that he liked me— or at least a whole lot more than his last nurse. I start slowly walking down the hall, looking over my shoulder to see Michael’s shaggy form following me like a big, dangerous shadow. His weight made his steps echo and his long legs made his stride much longer putting him surprisingly close behind. My eyes flickered back to him often, making sure he wasn't gonna get randomly violent as I tried to stay calm, knowing his eyes were on me the whole way behind that mask. Every step felt like he was getting closer.
Eventually, I arrive at a big cafeteria room, with many other patients eating their food at the tables before the guards take over my leadership role and guide Michael to the corner of the cafeteria to a secluded, metal room. They open the doors and Michael enters silently before sitting his imposing figure down at the table, huge legs spread wide for comfort as he settles in front of the food.
But he doesn’t make a move to eat it. He just continued to stare at me through the reinforced plastic of the window on the door, watching me, his eyes through the mask never wavering. I think he likes me more than I thought.
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colossrat · 12 days ago
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So, Billy is actually Bruce's biological son.
Marylyn married CC when she was already pregnant, CC knew and was okay with it, they really love each other and Bruce was just an accident? I don't know.
A few years later, Ebezener tries to sell this information, someone from the Waynes or Kanes, I don't know about that side of the lore… Are the Kanes still alive? Sorry, I'm ignorant in that area. SOMEONE is going to pay him to shut up. So they sell Billy again to a bunch of bad guys who are going to sell him AGAIN to somewhere, I don't know, far away from Gotham.
Well, but Billy is kind of like "oh my Gods, why this is my life", so he uses his powers, leaves the place as Cap and, as a bonus, he even gets Ebezener's money, the one the Kanes give him to shut up.
Kate, Batwoman, finds out, tells Bruce about this whole crap situation and now Batman is opening an operation to find this secret biological son, who was apparently sold to someone, but a mysterious magical person came there and saved him and the other children who were also being trafficked, but who??? This is a very secret operation, of course, only Wonder Woman, Superman and the Batfam are there to really know the details.
Well, but one day, like, YEARS after all this suffering, because Bruce never managed to locate this secret child that he now thinks is DEAD, boom, a child shows up on a mission, 15, 16 years old maybe, the age his secret son would be… blue eyes, dark hair, pale as paper, skinny, but yeah, it's pretty obvious. It's something immediate, but before he can say anything, someone else shows up, hugging the kid and saying that he was really worried.
Yeah, guys, Cap and Billy got separate cliche, but well, the JL, needed help, so they went to help them like this.
Billy is Billy, 16 year old Billy, and Marvel doesn't look like CC Batson, but rather like an adult version of Billy. Bodytpe less like Superman and more like Nightwing.
And then they introduce themselves as CAPTAIN MARVEL'S ADOPTED CHILDREN. Yes, we have Recruit (Billy) and Lightning (Thavma).
And so yes, they are helping the League, guiding them out of that evil, magical cave, and the League keeps asking questions.
Recruit, sitting on Lightning's shoulder: Uh… yeah, so, actually I… was going to… get taken by a metahuman taffricking ring, Lightning saved me and after that we really didn't want to be apart, he convinces Cap to adopt me too, and now he helps me with my magic training and everything. But I'm Lightning's… sidekick. Not Marvel's, that's why you guys and I have never really met.
Flash: Yeah, but like, even if we never met you since your hero job its not Marvel related, how come we never met Lightning? It feels like he's been a hero for a few years or more.
Lightning: I don't really like being seen. Im more of an underground hero? I want to help, but I honestly don't know how to deal with the public like Cap does. So I help in the shadows. I help, and then I'm gone. Maybe I'm more of a vigilante..? Not a hero.
And Batman's like, "I want to adopt you two now," but he's also like, "My baby found a good, powerful family, what right do I have to tell him about our kinship? What if this ruins everything for him? He's fine. He doesn't need me," but it destroys him.
He sees the way Recruit fights, remembers him of little Dick, jumping around and doing silly stunts. And his smile, so bright, so hopeful, so happy.
He hears his laugh and it calms something inside him.
"He's fine. He's happy, that's enough for me."
Billy and Cap actually take a long time to undo the magic spell that separated them, so they end up covering Marvel for other missions, and one day, Billy kind of spills the beans.
Kon: So, about your birth parents… Are they dead? Didn't they come after you were rescued from trafficking? Recruit: Uh, so… My parents are dead, but my dad was not my biological father, or something… My shitty uncle sold that information to my bio "family", I guess, and they're super rich, so they probably didn't want me to ruin their image in high society as some bastard orphan, so they were the ones who cut me out of that circle from the start. From what I heard when I was in the ring, my... Progenitor, has a lot of bastards already, and the family was happy to be able to stop another one from coming to steal their fortune or something. assholes, I never wanted to meet them in the first place, even if my uncle had dropped me with them, I wouldn't stay, I'd rather live on the streets again.
And some of the batfam, who know all about this "he's the one" thing, are there, listening, and they already know that these words are breaking Bruce from the inside out.
Lightning: You're being mean. We don't even know if they sold you out. The… Big guy seems to like adopting and doesn't care about their background. I believe it was a decision by the old conservative family heads.
Recruit: Don't sugarcoat it for the rich, they already pay people to do it. yeah, i know, maybe this is that "no he wouldn't do that" thing, but i wanted to write a sadder au with angst and misunderstandings and a sentimental bruce who longs to be a present father with a bonus of thavma and billy being brothers :D
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stevie-petey · 11 months ago
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episode seven: the bite
“Yeah, we ended up trapped in their secret base underneath Hawkins.” Dustin further explains, to which everyone’s eyes widen at.  “It was fun. Spent my birthday in mortal danger.” At the same time the kids all wish you a belated birthday, which you salute them for. “Thanks, guys. I’m just happy I wasn’t gravely injured this time.” “And that Steve finally kissed you.” Dustin unhelpfully adds before Steve is covering his mouth to shut him up. His face reddens, embarrassed and nervous. Jonathan is standing too close to him for comfort right now.
Summary: steve and robin are your nightmare blunt rotation, you manage to escape a russian lair: mario cart style, you learn that therapy sessions are fun in public bathrooms, steve places your brother on the russian fbi most wanted list, el probably just killed a bunch of people (deserved), and reunions with jonathan are always special when one of you is gravely injured
Rating: general, cursing
Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of blood, graphic depictions of blood and gore, cursing
Words: 10.1k
Before you swing in: HI IM ALIVE !!! my laptop isnt ,,,, but im trying to ignore that. sincerely apologize for the wait. my laptop shits down randomly every ten minutes and my new one is backordered so ive been fighting demons to write this. i also had a hard time with the bathroom scene with robin. i wanted to get that scene just right. it took a lot of rewriting, but i think im happy with how it ended up <3 pls enjoy this child of mine. she cost me blood, sweat, and tears lmao
-
“Boop!” Steve’s finger pokes your nose and he lets out a delirious giggle. “I booped you!”
At first it was adorable, endearing even, when he booped your nose. However, he’s done this five times now in the last minute alone. That, and you’ve been trying to give Dustin directions back to the elevator while dodging Steve’s surprisingly aggressive nose boops. All while the threat of armed Russians running after the cart looms over you. “Turn left here–would you stop it?”
“Wanna boop that pretty little nose,” Steve’s glossy eyes struggle to find yours, his motor skills delayed and concerning. His left eye has all but swollen shut and you’re still not sure if his unusual behavior is due to head trauma or something else. “C’mere, angel.”
He tries to boop you again, and before you can dodge the attack, Robin’s hand grabs his finger and she lets out a pathetic scoff. “You’re hogging the boops, dingus!”
“Nuh uh!”
“Yeah huh!”
Steve’s arm reaches over you and he bats at Robin. They start to hit one another, though their movements are slow and weak. They giggle as they fight, and you’re stuck in the middle of it. You try to push them off of you, but the two teens are too busy pinching each other and cackling to pay you any attention. It’s miserable. 
Erica, from the passenger seat of the cart, turns and winces at your predicament. “What is wrong with them?”
“I don’t know!” Dustin keeps his eyes in front of him as he drives, though he’s equally as confused and unnerved. Secretly, he’s glad he’s the one driving. Otherwise he’d be in the middle of a Steve and Robin giggle sandwich like you are.
“Whose hand is that?” You twist around. There’s a foreign body part that’s currently resting on your ass. Steve snickers and Robin puffs out her cheeks and giggles, neither one of them confessing. You’re about to start kicking shins when the cart comes to a screeching halt. The force of it throws you and the two teens back with a painful thud. “Christ!”
“You guys alright back there?” 
Somehow you wind up with Steve’s elbow in your ribcage and Robin’s head smacking into yours. Hissing in pain, you throw the two off of you and glare at your brother. You seriously fear the day he gets his license. “I want to die.”
Dustin turns back around in his seat and gulps. Steve’s and Robin’s own groans of pain can be heard from behind him. “They’re fine.”
Sneakers squeak against the tile floor and the doors to the back of the cart fly open. You’re greeted with Erica and Dustin, eyes wide as they take in the scene before them. You’re squished underneath the teens. You try shoving them off of you again, but they’re dead weight on you. 
“Wanna kiss again, Y/N? I really liked it,” Steve smacks his lips as his head rests against your stomach. “Wanted to do that for so long.”
Your cheeks burn at his words and your stomach flutters. You haven’t forgotten about the kiss earlier. God, you haven’t. It leaves you breathless every time you remember how it felt to have him so close, to smell him and taste him. A part of you wants to ask how long he’s thought about kissing you, but you know that the back of a cart while fleeing from Russians isn’t the most appropriate setting. 
Robin squirms next to you, her head also somehow on your stomach, pinning you down. “Can I get a kiss too?”
“If either one of you kisses me right now, my knives will be the last things you see.” The two teens make despaired noises, which you groan at. Meanwhile, Dustin and Erica continue to stand at the end of the cart, unmoving. You clench your teeth. “A little help here?” 
Dustin mumbles a sheepish apology and yanks Steve’s arm while Erica yanks at Robin, freeing you. As soon as you’re able to, you jump out of the cart and start clapping your hands to speed everyone along. “We gotta go!”
“We’re trying, Y/N!” Erica groans, struggling to get Robin up from the ground. 
You start to help, though you nearly fall when Dustin throws Steve against you. A complaint lingers on your lips, but when you see that your brother is now at the elevator doors with a keycard in his hand, you swallow it down.
Steve, however, is full of complaints. “This sucks.”
You blow hair out of your face and don’t bother responding to him. Instead, you watch anxiously as your brother swipes the key card he must’ve stolen earlier. When the scanner’s light flashes green and opens the elevator door, you exhale with relief. At least something has gone right today. 
After practically throwing Steve and Robin into the elevator with Erica’s help, Dustin hits a button and closes the door. As soon as it shuts, the room starts to move. You brace yourself, now familiar with how fast the damn thing can go.
The elevator ascends at a nauseating speed and there’s a crash behind you. Turning around, you find Robin holding a dolly in place as Steve gets on. He holds his hands out and starts to cheer as his friend snickers. They look like goddamn toddlers at daycare.
“Hey, no!” You feel like a parent, yanking at Steve’s arm to get him down from the dangerous position. The elevator is moving too fast to be messing around on. “This isn’t playtime–”
“He looks like he’s surfing, Y/N!” Robin squeals with excitement, rolling the dolly to the left.
Steve’s body twists and he steadies himself with a laugh. “I’m surfing!”
“Stop fucking surfing!”
You fight with the teens. Steve refuses to get down and Robin keeps rolling the dolly away from you. As you yell at them, Dustin and Erica exchange concerned looks. You overhear the girl mention how they seem drunk, and you’re about to tell her that she might be right, when Robin pulls the dolly from underneath Steve and sends him crashing into the ground. 
“Wipeout!”
You’re checking Steve for injuries as soon as he lands. Dustin kneels next to you and feels his forehead and winces. “He’s burning up.” 
Not liking the sound of that, you check Steve’s pupils. The room’s lighting is dim, but it’s obvious that his brown eyes are almost entirely taken over by the blacks of his pupils. “Holy shit, they’re scarily dilated.” 
“Ow. Thought you liked my eyes,” Steve swats at your hands sadly. He whines, trying to get you to let go of him. “Said you liked brown.”
“I do like brown, but I also like when you don’t act like a three year old.” You soothe him before turning to Dustin. “Any idea what it could mean?”
“Maybe he’s drugged?” Erica suggests.
You frown. “Could explain why he keeps trying to–” Steve reaches up and boops Dustin’s nose. He giggles and your brother looks annoyed. Sighing, you finish what you had been trying to say. “Boop people. Why he keeps trying to boop people.”
“Your turn, angel!”
Dustin intercepts Steve’s finger, which you’re grateful for. He gently smacks the teen’s face to get his attention. “Steve, are you drugged?”
“How many times, dad?” His voice drips with sarcasm and he rolls his eyes. “I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.”
“Since when do you smoke?” 
“Y/N, focus.” Dustin dodges another incoming boop and swats Steve’s hand away. “This isn’t funny, okay? We need to know what they did to you.”
“C’mon, honey.” Your fingers run through Steve’s hair. Parts of it have dried blood. Something more than a beating happened to him and Robin, you just don’t know what. If they’re really drugged, you have no way of knowing if they’ll be okay, and a part of you is terrified. “Work with us, please. What did they give you?”
“Are you gonna die on us?” Dustin asks, concerned as well.
“I’ll tell you!” Robin shouts from the corner she’s slouched in, eager to please you. She twirls her hair around her finger and gives you an unsettling smile. “We all die, my strange little child friend. It’s just a matter of how… and when.”
Neither you nor Dustin say anything for a few moments. Both of you blink, trying to process what exactly the teen has just said. Afraid to look away from her in case she tries to possess you or something, you slowly nod. “Okay, thank you for sharing, Robin.”
She flashes you a thumbs up and proudly smiles. “Happy to help!” 
“They’re gonna be looking for us up there,” your brother redirects the attention back to the fact that you’re all still very much in danger. He starts to interrogate Steve, trying to come up with a plan. “So I need you to tell me where you parked your car.”
“Oh, can we make a pit stop at the food court?” Steve’s eyes glaze over and you know you’ve lost him again. 
Robin leans forward and starts playing with your hair. “I would kill for a hot dog on a stick!”
You snap your fingers at the two of them. They’re impossible to level with, you’re not even sure why you’re still trying. “Guys, we need to focus.”
“No! No hot dog on a stick,” Steve suddenly lifts himself up and glares at Robin. “The guy at the counter said that Y/N she has pretty eyes. He’s an asshole.”
“You mean Dave? When the hell did he say that?”
Steve scoffs at you. “Last week. Ruined my whole day.”
“Fine! We’ll get you and Robin something else to eat.” Dustin says, which Robin cheers at, though he ignores her. “But only if you tell me where your car is parked.”
Suddenly Steve’s hazy eyes fill with remorse. “Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh? I don’t like uh-oh, can we not uh-oh?” Dustin nudges you with his shoulder to shut you up and let Steve explain. You mumble an apology. “Okay, why the uh-oh?”
“They took the keys.” Steve shoves his hands into his pockets and reveals that there’s nothing in them. “The Russians, they took the keys. Like forever ago.” For some reason this is hilarious to Robin, who starts to laugh hysterically in the corner. He joins her, amused by the whole thing. “That’s a bummer, right?”
You drop your head in your hands as Dustin sighs. With no keys and no way out of the mall, you’re not sure what else you can do. The only other option would be the bus that takes commuters home, but it comes every few hours and you have no idea what time it even is right now. 
Which means you’d be left with having to hide a very drugged up Steve and Robin in a giant mall swarming with Russian undercover guards for an unforeseen amount of time.
Not ideal. 
“We’re doomed.” You sigh into your hands.
Dustin nods beside you. “Yeah. We’re doomed.”
– 
When the five of you finally reach the mall, you guide everyone through the back hallway and fling the doors open. Fresh air hits your face and you take a moment to inhale. It’s only then that you notice that it’s dark outside. The air is warm, crickets chirp faintly from far away. What day is it? How long could you have possibly been down in the lair? 
As you have a minor breakdown trying to get your bearings, Steve and Robin walk behind you. Their mouths are wide open as they greet the fresh air with glee. “Oh my God, that tastes so good! Steve, can you taste the air?”
They stick their tongues out and marvel at the world around them. “I taste it!”
You watch them with your arms crossed. If you had any suspicion before that they were drugged, seeing them try to eat the air only confirms it. 
“Shit!” Dustin screams out of nowhere and grabs your hand. He tugs at you to start running. You look up and see two Russians men now running straight towards you. 
“Come on!” You grab Erica’s hand and shove her in front of you to run alongside your brother. Then you grab Steve and Robin by their shoulders and all but throw them against the mall’s door. “Go!”
“Why are we running?” Steve mopes, tired from all the physical activity he’s been forced to endure these last few minutes. 
You don’t bother answering him and instead shove him inside the second Dustin gets the mall’s doors opened. Everyone runs, though you’re not sure if anyone has an actual plan. The guard’s footsteps can be heard behind you, and all you know is that you guys need to hide until you can figure something else out. 
“Any chance you guys know any hiding spots?” You shout behind you to the kids, nearly tripping over your feet as you do so.
“No, this mall is one giant public swamp.” Dustin responds, huffing. 
Steve stumbles next to you, still obviously drugged up, yet giggling as always. “It feels like we’re running from movie villains!” 
Turning a corner, what Steve has said floats through your mind. Running from movie villains… What are the odds the Russians know about American movie theaters? They’re dark and usually crowded with people for night showings. It could be the only safe place to hide. 
“Dustin, start heading towards the theater!” Erica and your brother start asking you questions, but you don’t have time to explain. “Just trust me.”
Somehow you all make it to the theater’s doors without being detected. Poking your head through, you make sure there isn’t anyone nearby. When you’re sure it’s safe, you open the door wider and motion for everyone to follow. “Let’s go.”
Dustin guides, dragging Robin behind him while Erica follows. You stay with Steve and start walking once the others have gone ahead. 
“Awesome, movie date!” Steve exclaims with a dopey smile. He’s about to say something else when his eyes find something. Completely forgetting that you’re holding his hand, he runs towards a nearby trash can. He pulls out a bag of popcorn that had been on top of the trash pile and quickly starts shoving the food into his mouth. 
“If you ever wanna kiss me again, stop eating trash popcorn.” You snatch the bag out of his hands with a disgusted face. “I cannot believe I have to tell you that.”
“But I’m hungry.” Steve pouts, staring down at his now empty hands with despair. 
You ignore his pathetic pouting and follow Dustin, who has now flung open the curtains to the theater’s seats. He scopes the area and starts heading right. When he stops at two open seats, he points his finger at Steve and Robin. “You two, sit.”
“But these seats are too close!” Robin complains, and Steve voices his own qualms about the seating arrangements. 
However, you have other things to worry about. Shoving the teens into their seats, you wipe away crumbs on the ground with your shoe. “I’ll sit on the floor next to them. No way I’m leaving them alone when they’re high off their asses.”
Dustin looks at you, skeptical. He doesn’t want to leave you alone with them, afraid they’ll somehow get you into trouble. “You sure?”
“Positive. I’ll take care of them.” you squeeze his arm. While you understand his concern, you can’t bring yourself to abandon Steve and Robin again. Not when Steve’s face still bleeds slightly and Robin’s cheek swells with a bruise. They got hurt because of you; the least you can do is stay with them now. “Find other seats, we’ll be fine here. Just… be careful, alright?”
A man behind you shushes you rudely, reminding you where you are. If the kids don’t leave now, they run the risk of drawing more attention. You push your brother back up the aisle of seats, and he seems to understand what you’re doing. “Fine, but whatever you guys do: Don’t. Go. Anywhere.” 
“Fine, dad.” Steve glares at the kid, which you sigh at. It’s going to be a long night. 
Dustin leaves after you’ve saluted him, and Erica follows. Once they’re gone, you do your best to keep Steve and Robin quiet. As you shush them, you look up and see Dustin standing near the exit. You tilt your head, hoping he sees your questioning, and thankfully he does. He holds his radio up and mimes making a phone call. 
He’s calling for help.
You nod at Dustin, indicating that you understand, and he leaves. After you’ve checked to make sure Erica is still in her own seat at the other end of the row, you turn back towards Steve and Robin; they’re enamored with the movie playing. They whisper to themselves, not understanding what’s happening, but at least they’re quiet and out of danger. Slowly, you start to relax. 
All you have to do is stay in this movie theater until Dustin can contact the party for help. Should be simple enough. Except you make the fatal mistake of absentmindedly mentioning that you’re thirsty. “God, I need water right now.”
“Water.” Robin exhales as if it’s a prayer. Her entire face twists into longing and she hits Steve’s shoulder. “Water. Now.”
“On it!” He nods earnestly and suddenly the two of them are scrambling out of their seats. You snap your fingers at them, hiss whispered threats, but they don’t listen. They climb over you as if you’re an inconvenient bug on the ground. 
Before you can even stand up, they’re already halfway up the aisle of seats. You barely have time to get up before they’ve left the theater itself. “I’m so over them being drugged.” You huff, running after them. There isn’t time to tell Erica where you’re going, too afraid you’ll lose them if you don’t hurry. 
Those fuckers better save you some water.
– 
Steve makes you hold the button on the water fountain because he “can’t do it himself”.
“Is my help really necessary?” You complain, arms crossed as you watch Steve messily gulp water down. His neck is bent at an awkward angle and for a brief moment you truly question whether or not you find him attractive. Water drips down his chin and his gulps are obscenely loud. 
“Yes,” Steve responds in between slurps. The cold water washes over him and he’s never felt closer to God than in this moment. “That’s amazing.”
Robin stands next to you, patiently waiting her turn. “So like, I wasn’t totally focused in there or anything, but I’m pretty sure that mom was trying to bang her son.”
“In the movie?” You hadn’t been paying much attention in the theater. Your view from the ground was shitty and you were too busy making sure the idiots didn’t somehow kill themselves. However, despite your lack of attention, you doubt that’s what the movie’s premise had been about. 
“Wait, the hot chick was Alex P. Keaton’s mom?” Your hip knocks against Steve’s, causing him to choke on the water he’d been drinking. Coughing, he clutches at his chest. “I could’ve died, Y/N!”
“Sorry,” you smile sympathetically at him, feigning pity. He lost the privilege of calling other women hot after getting you locked in a Russian elevator for twelve hours. “My hip slipped.”
“Aren’t you two going to question how the guy was able to go back in time?” Robin is still focused on the whole son being in love with his mom plotline. 
Steve inhales even more water. “Then why is it called Back to the Future?”
Robin begins explaining the complexities of the movie, but you tune her out. While you appreciate that she’s trying to make conversation, you’re uneasy about being out in the open like this. There’s no one around, but you can never be too careful. It’s only when she shoves Steve away from the water fountain that you focus again. 
“Wait, I was supposed to go after him–” Your protesting falls on deaf ears as Robin steals your turn for water. Reluctantly, you step away. She can hold her own damn water fountain button. 
You notice that Steve has wandered off a few feet away. He still stumbles as he walks, though his footsteps aren’t as unsteady as they were earlier. He stops in the middle of the walkway and you join him. 
“Wow,” he breathes out, looking up. He’s mesmerized by what he’s seeing. Curious, you look up as well, though you only see the skylights above. It’s night, no natural light flows through the panels. Yet Steve stands transfixed next to you. “The stars.”
“The stars?” You’re not sure what he means. You can’t see the stars from where you stand. Then again, you suppose he could be seeing things, given that he’s heavily drugged up. 
“The stars are pretty like you, angel.” Steve says, eyes still on the sky, yet his hand somehow finds yours. He intertwines your fingers together and is able to pull you closer, albeit weakly. “You’ve always been so beautiful… scared me when we were younger.”
Your breath catches and you look at him. He’s looking up, seemingly unaware of the effect his words have on you. An overwhelming warmth fills your chest. You want to say something, tell him you love him and that his beauty last July had terrified you. 
But you don’t say anything. Steve is still high, he wouldn’t remember what you’ve said, and you want your confessions to sit within his chest the way his sit in yours. Instead, you find yourself admiring him. You study the length of his neck. The mole that rests just below his jaw and the others that litter his pretty face. His nose, the dip of his chin. The hair tucked behind his ears. His eyes.  
Steve Harrington is beautiful. Scars and all. 
Then he starts to gag and quickly the moment is ruined. 
“Oh, God.” You quickly grab his shoulders and frantically look for the nearest bathroom. In your haste, Robin reacts to Steve’s sudden sickness by gagging as well, and you’re very afraid of what’s about to unfold. “Okay, bathroom time! For the love of God, we need to find a bathroom.”
They’re useless as you twist and turn them around as you search for a bathroom. When you see a nearby sign, you drag them behind you and pray that they make it the next fifteen feet. As soon as you barrel through the bathroom door, Steve and Robin run out from behind you and just barely make it to the toilets before spilling their guts. 
You stand near the doorway, cringing. It’s not a pretty sight. 
They puke, spit out the excess, and flush the toilet to clear it before the next round of vomiting begins. Then they do it all over again. It goes on like this for a while, and all you can do is linger in the doorway and offer halfhearted comfort from across the room. You’ve never really gotten over your slight fear of vomit, if you’re being honest. 
Eventually Steve and Robin seem to throw everything up. When they’ve flushed the last of their sickness down, you hesitantly walk towards them and stand in between the stalls. “We feeling any better?”
“The room stopped spinning for me.” Robin says, her feet propped against the stall’s wall. You have no idea how she’s laying down the bathroom’s ground so casually. “Steve, is it still spinning for you?”
He looks up for a moment, testing what will happen. When he feels perfectly fine, he exhales with relief. “Holy shit. No.”
“You probably flushed the drugs out of your system when you puked.” You observe, leaning against the stall’s divider. “What were you guys on?”
“Allegedly a truth serum.” Robin says from the floor. “Ask me something, test if it’s really all gone.” Then, because she’s trying to get you to laugh, she lowers her voice and impersonates one of the Russians. “Interrogate me.”
Though you smile at her, your stomach twists. Not only were they beaten for information, they were also injected with a goddamn truth serum. Treated like lab rats. And you left them behind, all alone; you’ll never forgive yourself for that. 
But they’re here with you now, you remind yourself. They came out the other side. So you’ll do whatever you can to make it up to them and show them that you’re here for them. Even if that means asking bizarre questions to make sure they’re no longer being controlled by truth serums. “When was the last time you peed your pants?”
“Today.”
Steve looks at you to make sure you’ve also just heard Robin’s response. “What?”
You shrug. “I can’t really judge. I peed my bed a few years ago. Watched a scary movie with Dustin and had a nightmare. Wasn’t my proudest moment.”
“What?” Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“See!” Robin lifts her head up from the ground to look at you. “I was also scared. When the Russian doctor pulled out a bone saw, it was only a little bit, but holy shit.”
She starts to laugh and you join her, despite the image of the bone saw you saw burning your mind. You had seen it in the room when you were saving them. It had terrified you. Yet Robin laughs about it now, so you allow yourself to as well. 
Steve shakes his head at you both. “Yeah, it’s definitely still in her system.”
“And it’s not in yours, Harrington?”
His eyes shine when he looks at you. He’s coming back to himself, you can feel it. The knowing smirk is back. “Clean as a whistle, Henderson.”
Robin clears her throat, now uncomfortable. “Aright, my turn. I want to ask him a question.” When Steve gives her the okay, she takes a deep breath. She looks at you, a resigned look on her face. Something seems to have struck her, something that terrifies her. Her laughter is gone. “Have you… ever been in love?”
Steve doesn’t expect the question. He looks startled by it and tilts his head up at you. Your eyes meet, and you nod, giving him the permission he doesn’t truly need. You talked about it once, last year. The two of you in your room late one night, whispering confessions about love and the pain it brought. It was never a secret. 
“Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.” Steve mimes a gunshot to his heart, trying to lessen the unease. He will never really feel comfortable talking about that time of his life. 
“Oh, my God.” Robin rolls her eyes. “She’s such a priss.”
You walk over to her stall and nudge her leg with your shoe. “Hey, she’s my friend, ya know.” Ignoring how dirty the bathroom floor inevitably is, you sit next to Robin. “She’s not a priss.”
“At least, not really.” Steve adds, nostalgia in his voice. 
Robin seems to hear it, too. She sits up, eyes not meeting yours. “Are you still in love with Nancy?”
Without meaning to, you hold your breath. You know Steve no longer loves her, but it’s July and somehow he still isn’t yours. There’s still trust between you, but your body tenses and your heart stutters. 
And yet Steve doesn’t hesitate. It’s immediate. He doesn’t even have to think about it. He’s known since April, though his body has known since he offered you his hand the day you almost hit his car with your bike. “No.”
“Why not?” Robin doesn’t know why she’s pushing this. You’re next to her, your thigh presses against hers. She knows that Steve is in love with you. He confessed it to her when she was teasing him about it just a few days ago. She devoted an entire whiteboard to tallying all the times he failed to ask you out. 
Steve is yours, and you’re his, but Robin can’t help but pick at scabs and expose old wounds. 
There’s a few moments of silence. Steve takes his time responding. He can almost feel your hand ghosting over his, even though you’re separated by a stall. “I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.”
You’re quiet. Robin is as well. 
“You know, it’s crazy.” Maybe it’s the truth serum still coursing through Steve’s veins or maybe it’s because he’s almost died a million times tonight. All he knows is that he’s tired of running. You deserve to know how he feels about you. “Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been badgering me about asking this girl out. That I need to ‘find my Suzie’. A girl he met at camp who somehow became his girlfriend, who I’m not even sure is actually real.”
He’s rambling. He knows he is, but you and Robin remain silent and patiently wait for him to keep going. Steve inhales, holds the breath for a few seconds, and exhales. All summer he’s been agonizing over this very moment. He’s spent countless sleepless nights terrified that he’d somehow ruin it. In the end, his own cowardice only hurt you; he still remembers the way your body shook in his arms while he held you as you cried last night. Steve remembers the fear on your face when you realized you couldn’t save him. That the Russians were going to take him away from you. 
It was then, seeing the terror in your eyes and hearing the desperation in your voice, that Steve Harrington finally realized you would give all of yourself to him; that is what love is. 
To love someone is to know that they deserve your love. 
And for some reason you love Steve. You see something in him that deserves your love. He’s no longer terrified that his love isn’t enough for you. He realizes now that it’s enough. His love is enough because it is his. 
You deserve love, and Steve is more than happy to give all of his to you. 
“The point is,” Steve runs a hand through his hair. He can feel you listening, waiting. “This girl, you know, the one that I love, it’s somebody that I didn’t even talk to in school… and I don’t even know why.”
A small laugh cuts through the barrier between you and Steve. The two of you spent years together in school, and not once did he ever talk to you. There was one time, early sophomore year, when he collided with you in the hallway while running to the bathroom to meet Nancy. He had apologized to you, but he continued running and hadn’t looked back.
It was two years ago, but you had only been kids, then.
Hearing your laugh emboldens Steve. He clears his throat, lifts his head. He wishes you were in the stall with him. “I think… I think I was scared. I had always watched her from afar. I mean, here was this girl who would offer help to anyone who needed it. Didn’t matter who they were, she’d help them. I just, I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand why someone would go out of their way to help others without expecting anything in return.”
“I mean, there I was, worrying about being prom king while this girl was tutoring kids for free in the school library.” Steve scoffs at himself. He will never forgive himself for wasting all those years with you. He could’ve been your friend sooner had he not been such an asshole. “It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because when I think about it, I should’ve been friends with this girl the whole time.”
You rest your head against the wall, buzzed with warmth. “You should’ve,” you find yourself saying softly. Though you know yourself. Steve came into your life when you needed him the most, at the right time, for the right reasons. The timing had never been right before. “But I’m sure the girl is glad you ended up how you did.”
“Me, too.” Warm honey laces Steve’s voice. He can almost feel your body on his. He can see the lines and strings above him, materializing into something more solid with every word he says. “Still should’ve happened sooner, though. I mean, this girl we’re talking about is incredible. She makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever met. She’s witty, she always knows what to say and she’s so goddamn smart. I don’t think she knows this, but she has this way with people…”
His voice trails off. It’s what he loves the most about you. The effect you have on everyone you meet. The impact you make within a person’s life simply by smiling at them. “She has a way of making someone into a better person without even realizing it, just by being a part of their life. She… she made me a better person. Taught me to be softer, more vulnerable.”
Steve hadn’t known gentleness until he met you. 
To your left, Robin starts to close in on herself with every word he Steve says. She slouches down, drops her head into her knees almost as if in despair.
“She saw this good in me that no one else had before. For some reason, instead of using it against me like others have, she believed that I could be someone different. That I could change… It didn’t matter how long it would take me, she would wait. And I’m so goddamn lucky to be in love with someone as selfless as her.”
Guilt eats away at Robin. She’s harbored a resentment towards Steve all summer, even though she tried to swallow the feeling down. The love between you and Steve had always been obvious from the first day she met you. She watched the two of you dance around each other every day, basking in the sickly sweet young love you shared with one another. 
It’s not that Robin resented your relationship with Steve. No, she was happy for you, truly. The bitter taste in her mouth whenever she watched you gently stroke his cheek with your fingertips was remorse intermingling with resentment because she will never be able to do that. She will never be able to love someone so openly. To have someone hold her hand and call her tender names. 
You’re a beautiful girl with a boy who could adore you freely. Robin can only ever watch you from the shadows, scared to be caught.
You notice Robin’s shift in demeanor and press your body closer to hers. You’ve never seen her look so small before, so unsure of herself, and it worries you. “Hey, is everything okay?”
She shakes her head, too afraid that if she talks she’ll start to cry. The kindness that you offer her stings. She doesn’t deserve it. Not when she believes you outshine the sun. Before she can make up some excuse, Steve knocks on the stall. “Robin? Y/N? Did someone just OD over there?”
“No,” Robin’s breath is shaky, which worries you even more. “We’re still alive.”
You try to meet her eye, but she won’t look up at you. You’re not sure what’s happened, but she’s closed herself off from you; you feel like an intruder. Placing an arm on her shoulder, you’re about to offer her some more water when Steve’s body slides into the stall.
He settles himself across from you, shy with his movements. Your heart lurches when you see him, too. He confessed his love for you only moments prior, and you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and call him yours, but Robin looks pale. She’s scared. You just don’t know why.
“The floor’s disgusting,” she says to Steve, hoping to get the attention off of her. 
“Yeah, well, I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” He looks down, cringes slightly. You remain silent, and Robin’s eyes are still downcast. Seeing this, Steve tries to lighten the mood and asks Robin a teasing question. “So, what do you think?”
“About?”
“This girl,” he turns to you, then. He looks at you with such fondness and knows that both you and Robin know he had been talking about you the entire time. He’s trying to get you to laugh, bring a smile back to your faces.
Robin tries to play along, swallowing down the remaining bitterness. You’re sitting next to her, your hand is still on her arm. “She sounds awesome.” 
“She is awesome.” Steve winks at you, hoping it’ll get you to blush the pretty pink he loves so much. When it works, he smiles. “And what about the guy?”
“I think he’s as sweet as honey in July.” You say, giving into Steve’s charm. It’s worked on you ever since the day you crashed into that ditch, even if back then you refused to admit it.
“Yeah? Well, I think he’s on drugs, and that he’s not thinking straight. That he doesn’t realize how lucky he is.” Robin interjects. She doesn’t look at you, her eyes remain on Steve. You raise your eyebrows at what she’s said. You hadn’t expected such a pessimistic response from her.
Off put by her sudden dejection, Steve becomes defensive. He doesn’t understand what Robin is doing. She was the one who kept encouraging Steve to ask you out all summer. “Really? ‘Cause I think he’s thinking a lot more clearly than usual. He knows what luck is.”
“Does he? What if there’s this other girl, one he hasn’t seen yet. I mean, really seen.” Robin swallows. Her fingers twist together nervously. “What if he one day sees her and realizes just how unlucky she is. I don’t think the guy would ever want to be her friend after that.”
“No, that’s not true. No way is that true.” Steve shifts closer to the two of you now, confused as to why Robin is saying all of this. Of course she’s his friend. “I mean, apart from the girl he’s in love with, this other girl is the guy’s only friend.”
“Listen to me, Steve.” Robin still doesn’t look at you, but you listen silently and allow her the space she seems to need. “It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you, but I’m not lucky like you are. I think… I think you should use that luck. Go for the girl.”
Steve tilts his head, not quite following. “What does luck have to do with any of it?”
Robin sighs and you sit next to her, quiet. She seems to be trying to figure out what she wants to say, and somehow you think you know what she means by luck. It’s always fascinated you, luck and love. Two sides of the same coin. But it never occurred to you that there could be an undercurrent that cuts through the luck. A double meaning behind it. 
“Do you remember what I said about Click’s class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?”
“Yeah,”
Robin closes her eyes and sighs. When she opens them, there’s a resolved look in them.  “It… It isn’t because I had a crush on you. It’s because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”
At first, you’re confused. You had missed their conversation about Mrs. Click’s class. They must’ve had it when they were being held captive, but the phrasing of what Robin has just said feels heavier than it should. Her words land on you with a force you hadn’t seen coming. 
If Robin had for some reason talked about being obsessed with Steve in a class they once shared, but not because she had a crush on him, but because a girl wouldn’t stop staring at him… 
“Mrs. Click?”
Even though you’ve done well remaining silent this entire time, you can’t help but snort at Steve’s response. He’s trying, you know he is. Robin must know this too, because she laughs softly at him as well. “No, Steve.”  Her smile dims, however. “That would’ve made things easier for me, though.”
Easier. Luckier. 
And then it all clicks. 
Robin’s insistence on always pleasing you. The subtle touches. The way her eyes would darken sometimes when you looked at Steve. How, only an hour ago, she had asked you for a kiss when she was still under the influence of the truth serum. 
You draw your hand towards hers and slowly thread your fingers together. Robin’s head spins, she finally allows herself to look at you. She finds your eyes staring into hers. They’re kind, understanding. You’re looking right through her in this very moment, and Robin Buckley has never been more afraid. 
“How long have you known?” You ask her, voice gentle.
Robin’s voice shakes. “Since Tammy Thompson…” She has to look away from you. She can’t do this with you looking at her. “She was in Mrs. Click’s class with me and Steve. I–I wanted her to look at me, but.. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from him and his stupid hair.”
She pauses, tries to compose herself, and you squeeze her hand three times. Once to tell her that you’re there, another to give her the reassurance to go on, and the final time to communicate that you understand. There isn’t a reason to be scared. Somehow, Robin knows what the gesture means. Breathing in, she looks at Steve and continues. 
“And I didn’t understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor and you asked dumb questions and you were a douchebag. And–and you didn’t even like her and I–” Her voice breaks. “I would go home… and just scream into my pillow.”
Steve looks between the two of you. It’s obvious he’s the only one not aware of the underlying layers. “But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.”
“Steve,” Robin breathes out, pleading. She doesn’t want to say it out loud. She can’t say it out loud. He needs to understand what she’s trying to say. Why she’s been giving him hell all summer. Why she feels guilty when she looks at you.
“Yeah?” But he doesn’t understand.
Robin can’t say anything. She looks at him, can feel the tears in her eyes; she’s begging now. Steve’s eyes find yours, silently begging you as well to explain this to him. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing wrong. He doesn’t want to be doing something that could hurt Robin like this. 
Your shoes squeak against the tile floors as you draw your knees into your chest. You’re not sure what else you can do. Robin has laid everything out for Steve. Your hand still holds hers and you try to quell the fear within you that maybe he’s being intentionally naive. Maybe he doesn’t want to believe it. 
“Oh.” 
It’s one word, one exhale of breath from a mouth that once used to say cruel things. Steve’s face softens, his jaw unclenches and his shoulders relax. He surprises you, showing nothing but empathy. He’s kind, he’s always been kind.
“Holy shit,” Steve doesn’t want to mess this up, but he’s never been good with words. 
Robin laughs. “Yeah, holy shit.”
He sighs and leans against the stall wall. It’s quiet between the three of you. No one really knows what to say now. Steve is still processing, Robin’s heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled, and you’re trying to figure out how to tell her that you understand more than she may know. She’s braver than you, trusted you with this secret, and it’s only fair that you offer her a part of yourself as well. 
Plus, it’s a wonderful ice breaker. 
“You have terrible taste in women, Robin.” You nudge her with your shoulder, teasing. “I mean, I’ve heard Tammy Thompson during choir rehearsal. You can totally do better.”
“She wants to be a singer, she has dreams!” Robin defends the girl, the change in conversation bizarre but welcomed. 
Steve, sensing that you’re trying to lessen the tension, gratefully plays along. “So what she has dreams? She can’t even carry a tune. But, more importantly, what do you know about taste in women, Y/N?”
“I see things,” you jut your head out, defiant. “Probably would’ve fallen in love with Nancy Wheeler had I known her instead of Jonathan.”
Their reactions are expected.
“You would’ve loved Nancy?” Steve exclaims at the same time as Robin guffaws, “You loved Byers?” 
You laugh. It’s a full, whole body laugh. One you haven’t felt in so long. “Yes,” you wheeze out, the look on their faces killing you. Steve looks unnerved while Robin looks disgusted. “At least Jonathan doesn’t sound like a muppet when he sings.”
“Tammy does not!” Robin is laughing alongside you now. It’s been a long time since she’s laughed this hard, too.
Steve rolls his eyes, his own smile overtaking his face. “She sounds like a muppet giving birth, Robin.”
“That’s what she reminds me of!” You snap your fingers and point at him. “You’re right!”
Robin clutches her stomach as she laughs. She leans into your side as you lean into her. Steve starts doing a terrible impersonation of Tammy’s awful singing, which only gets the two of you to laugh even harder. Steve gets you to sing along. He grabs the hand that isn’t holding Robin’s and swings it around as the two of you sing. Robin joins, laughing more than singing. It’s lovely. Absolutely lovely. 
And this is how Dustin finds the three of you.
He slams the bathroom door open, Erica right behind him, and stands in front of you.
“Okay,” he glares at you specifically. “What the hell, Y/N?”
You giggle at his disappointed dad stance. “I told you I’d take care of them.”
Dustin isn’t amused, which only makes your giggles turn to laughter again. The other two teens aren’t far behind you, descending into yet another fit of laughter. Hunched together, the three of you giggle breathlessly as your brother and Erica watch in disbelief. 
But you ignore their questioning stares.
With both Steve and Robin holding your hands, laughter warming your belly, you feel like a kid again.
– 
 The bus becomes your only option.
“I managed to contact the party.” Dustin had informed you after your laughter died down.
Relief washed over you. “Thank God–”
“But then my walkie died.”
“Yeah,” you had sighed and dropped your head down in defeat. “Yeah, of course it did. Why wouldn’t it die when we need it?”
Which leads you to now: peering out the bathroom door with Steve breathing down your neck and Dustin in front of you, checking to make sure it’s safe. A crowd of people flood the once empty hallway. The movie must’ve just finished. Everyone is talking excitedly, having no idea that five teenagers are currently hiding in the bathroom from Russians. 
You envy them. 
“When I say ‘blend’, we go. Okay?” Dustin asks the group, eyes still on the mass of people exiting the theater. 
“Because Steve dripping blood definitely will blend in.” You retort. It’ll be hard not to draw attention to yourselves with the way his face still oozes. It’s a long walk down to the bus station and you’re getting worried now. The mall closes in ten minutes, soon there won’t be any crowds to hide behind. 
Dustin doesn’t bother justifying your remark. Instead he studies the flow of traffic before giving his signal. “Blend.”
The five of you swiftly exit the bathroom and align your pace with everyone around you. Dustin guides in front with Erica while you stay back with Steve and Robin. Your eyes move constantly, scanning every face you pass. Thankfully, the people close to you seem innocent enough.
Erica looks around, impressed. “Well, shit. That worked.”
“Of course it worked.” Dustin is smug, which makes you wince. He’s always had a bad habit of jinxing things. You really wish he had gotten more of your mom’s humility and less of your dad’s ego. “Now we just have to get on the bus with the rest of these plebes, and home sweet home, here we come.”
You shove your brother. “Can we not taunt our inevitable bad luck?”
“We’re in the clear now, Y/N. Trust me, in just twenty minutes we’ll be back home, where our dear mother awaits with her frantic arms wide open–”
“Uh, Dustin?” Steve eyes him nervously. Already you dread whatever he’s about to say. You guys only lasted thirty seconds without any bad luck. It’s a new record, honestly.
“What?”
“Yeah, we might not wanna go to your house.”
“Why?”
“Well,” Steve winces with regret. He knows he’s about to piss both Hendersons off. “I might’ve told them your full name.”
Dustin turns to look at him, bewildered. “What is wrong with you?”
“Dude, I was drugged.” Steve argues, which. Yeah. That’s fair.
Not liking that he apparently sold your brother out to Russians, yet understanding that Steve hadn’t been the most clear headed when it happened, you grab his hand. There’s more important matters to deal with, like whether or not he sold you out as well. “Did you tell them my full name?”
“No, I kept you safe.” He says, with an air of obviousness that you smirk at. 
“Aw, thanks honey.” You kiss his cheek, not caring that Dustin is fuming in front of you. 
“Oh, so you can resist for your girlfriend but not for her brother?” Dustin struggles to keep his voice low. He has never wanted to shove Steve down a flight of stairs more. “You were supposed to tough it out. Like a man!”
You flick the kid’s hat. “Hey, he was very manly defending my honor.”
“I hate you both–”
Robin suddenly freezes, her eyes catching on something. “Guys…”
Everyone stops, alarmed by the tone in her voice, before you see them. There, standing right in front of the exit of the mall, are the two Russian men from the alley. They’re stopping people, checking their faces, looking for you. 
“Abort.” Dustin says, before one of the men makes direct eye contact with him. His face pales and you already have one hand on his shoulder, pulling at him to run. “Abort!”
Steve grabs Erica’s hand and motions for you and Dustin to run ahead as Robin guides. She pushes through the crowd of people and towards the escalators. However, when you get there, they’re roped off and blocked by plexiglass. 
You kick at the glass, frustrated. The Russians are close now. Robin, quick as ever, steps past you and places herself in the middle of the two escalators. You’re confused at first, but then you realize there’s just enough space for your bodies to fit through. Sitting down, Robin is able to use the gap as a makeshift slide.
“Let’s go,” Steve places Erica to slide down next, then Dustin. When it’s your turn, he nods at you. “Ready?”
“I’m so tired of running from these shitheads.” You say before launching yourself down the escalators. 
Robin waits for everyone at the bottom. When you’re all there, she waves for you to follow as you run again. None of you have any idea where to even hide now that the mall has emptied. There’s no one to hide behind, no corner to run into. And the goddamn Russians are fast, never trailing more than fifty feet behind you. 
Somehow you end up in the food court. It isn’t much, but there’s at least vendor’s stalls and restaurant counters nearby. Panting, you point towards the nearest counter. “There! Everyone jump over!”
No one argues, doing as they’re told. You make it there first and help Erica over while Steve and Robin help Dustin. Kneeling down, you motion for everyone to sit with a finger to your lips. The men have to be nearby, you can practically feel their presence close. Facing your friends, you grip your knives and strain your ears for any sounds. 
It’s tense. Dustin pants, he’s scared and overwhelmed and you wish you could offer him better protection. Steve glances at you, silently asking you what the next move is, and you shake your head helplessly. You’re cornered, there’s no way out of this one. 
The sound of boots falling against the mall’s ground approaches. It grows louder and louder at a maddeningly slow pace. Your knuckles are white from how tightly they grip around the hilt of your switchblade. With one flick of your wrist, you know you could at least disarm one of the men long enough to cause a distraction. You’d never kill anyone, but you know from experience that a cut to the shoulder is sufficient enough. 
You’re pulled away from your thoughts when a car alarm suddenly goes off. Its loud noise echoes within the empty mall. Everyone jumps at the unexpected sound, shuffling closer together. Deciding it’s worth the risk, you poke your head up to see what the hell is going on. 
The guards are standing around a red convertible. It shakes, vibrates almost, and they look at one another in confusion. The car continues to shriek its alarm, and while the men stand in fear, you smile. There’s static in the air.
Looking up you see El, with an arm outstretched, on the second floor. Her face is strained, her fingers clench in mid air. The look on her face is terrifying, and you’ve never been happier to see blood drip down from her nose. She twists her arm and sends the car flying into the men. You duck as it crushes them, rolls over the tables and chairs in the center, before spiraling into the counter next to you. “Shit!”
The alarm stops ringing. Everything falls silent. Slowly, you and everyone else stand up to inspect the damage. A tire rim rolls past, the Russians guards are sprawled on the ground, unmoving. There’s smoke from where the car has landed, and you let out a low whistle. “Nice one, El.”
“El?” Dustin turns around, wondering if he’s heard you right.
“She’s up there,” you point to where she had been standing, but when you see Jonathan now standing next to her with Nancy, your heart stops. “Jonathan.”
You’re the first to start running, and when he sees that it’s you, Jonathan wastes no time running either. He’s down the escalator in seconds. Your whole body buzzes as you run, adrenaline and longing coursing through you. The moment he’s close enough, you practically leap into his arms.
“Bug,” he holds onto you tightly. He buries his face in your hair and you breathe him in. It’s a familiar scent, a familiar warmth. You had been so focused on escaping the Russian base that you hadn’t even considered that he and everyone else in the party could’ve been involved. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” you tighten your arms around him, but when he makes a pained noise, you immediately pull away. It’s then that you notice the swelling in his head. The dried blood. Pressing your fingers softly to his face, you fill with concern. “What happened, are you hurt?”
Jonathan tries to shrug it off. He doesn’t care about what he’s been through. All he wants to focus on is that you’re okay, for once not covered in blood and bruises like he is. Wherever you’ve been these last few days, at least he knows you weren’t in any pain. “I’m fine, I’ll tell you everything later–”
“You flung that thing like a Hot Wheel!” Dustin exclaims to El, now joining you and Jonathan as the others gather around. 
You don’t leave Jonathan’s side as everyone starts talking at once. Lucas asks why Erica is involved, to which you wince at. “I tried stopping them.”
“It’s their fault.” Erica points at Steve and Robin, clearing your name in the process, which you appreciate her for. 
Steve stands next to you now and puts his hands on his hips. He doesn’t even try to deny that he’s the reason a ten year old girl ended up locked inside an underground Russian facility. “Yeah, true. Totally true. It’s absolutely our fault.” 
Robin asks what happened to the car and Dustin and Steve explain El to her. They quickly catch her up to speed about the girl’s power, and you feel bad for the teen. It’s a lot of information to take in at once. Erica joins, having remembered her conversation with Dustin from earlier in the vents when he had explained the Upside Down to her. 
Meanwhile, Nancy is focused on Robin. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“That’s Robin. She’s a friend.” You step between them. When Nancy sees that it’s you, she quickly looks away. She fidgets with her fingers, overwhelmed with shame and regret. She hasn’t forgotten the cruelty she showed you a few days ago. You haven’t forgotten either, but you’ve never been one to hold anger towards others. Extending a kind smile, you nod at her. “Hey, Nance.”
Nancy looks up, surprised, but smiles at you as well and it’s enough. Maybe one day you’ll sort through the tension that never seems to leave you and the girl alone. Untangle the lines and threads that haunt both of you. For now, there are other things to worry about. 
Steve has started explaining the Russians now, and quickly it becomes clear that you’ve all been dealing with vastly different situations. 
“Russians, what Russians?” Jonathan asks you with alarm. 
“See those guys laying over there?” Everyone looks at where you’re pointing, the men still knocked out on the ground. “Russians. We enjoyed twenty-four wonderful hours with them.”
“Yeah, we ended up trapped in their secret base underneath Hawkins.” Dustin further explains, to which everyone’s eyes widen at. 
“It was fun. Spent my birthday in mortal danger.” At the same time the kids all wish you a belated birthday, which you salute them for. “Thanks, guys. I’m just happy I wasn’t gravely injured this time.”
“And that Steve finally kissed you.” Dustin unhelpfully adds before Steve is covering his mouth to shut him up. His face reddens, embarrassed and nervous. Jonathan is standing too close to him for comfort right now.
Nancy looks uncomfortable with this new information, Mike makes a disgusted sound, Max high fives you, Lucas cheers, Will gasps and looks nervously towards his brother, and Jonathan chokes on his own spit. It’s truly a very wide array of reactions, all of which are expected to certain extents. 
That doesn’t stop you from hitting the back of Dustin’s head, though. “Can we focus on the Russians infiltrating Hawkins?” Dustin hits your shoulder in retaliation, but he knows you’re right. He turns to Mike, upset that he hadn’t come sooner. “Didn’t you get our code red?”
“Yeah, but I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying.”
The kids all start to argue and Steve joins in, making a remark about how he’s always bugging Dustin to watch for a low battery. More arguing follows. Lucas and the others demand to hear more about the Russians. As you try your best to explain everything, you notice from the corner of your eye El walking away from the group.
Her shoulders are drawn into her body, her breathing seems to be labored. You nudge Jonathan, pulling his attention away from the kids arguing, and point towards El. “What happened to her tonight?”
Jonathan is about to explain what they’ve been dealing with, but when El collapses onto the ground, you leave his side in a heartbeat to join her. Kneeling beside her, you’re cold with panic. She’s covered in sweat, her face is flushed. “El? Sweetheart, what’s happening?”
Mike and Jonathan are beside you now. Mike is in his own fit of panic, nearly ramming into you in his hurry to get to the girl. He turns her over onto her back, his face twisted with worry and fear. “El! What’s wrong?”
The rest of the group stands around El now, staring down at her. She manages to open her eyes, but you can tell that it pains her to do so. “My leg.” She rasps out, voice thick with tears. 
“Her leg, okay.” Jonathan takes action, swiftly unraveling a bandage on her leg. You hadn’t noticed it before. There’s a deep wound underneath the gauze, its blood has soaked through it. Nancy helps Jonathan with the bandage, and when they finally get it off, you almost throw up at the sight. 
The flesh is raised, angry and swollen. There’s a giant gash in El’s leg, deep and to the bone. The veins in her legs are dark and begin to constrict when something starts to move inside the wound; something is crawling inside her leg. It’s a nauseating sight.
Mike starts to freak out even more. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He’s scared for the girl, his eyes fill with panic. Instinctively you pull him into your arms, tightening your hold as he fights against it. 
That’s when El begins to scream.
-
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bamgyuuuri · 3 months ago
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yk who i am hehe we're working together :3 but when i'll send you reqs, i'll be anon. i'll be ☁️ anon mwehehe
barista beomgyu. please. i beg.
⸝⸝ brewing love ┈ cbg.
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⸝⸝ now playing : can't stop - taehyun & hueningkai
pairings and tags. barista!beomgyu x reader . fleeting glances . mutual pining . not-actually unrequited love . cute mutual crush shenanigans . beomgyu is the actual sweetest im crying . slow burn-ish . cheeky clichés . shy yet abrupt confession . tooth-rutting fluff
word count. 8.8k
short note! OOOOH i think i already know who u are mwehehe, hello ☁️ anon !! <3 i made this extra special just for you, i hope u like it :3
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barista!beomgyu, who just so happens to begin working at the newly opened café a few buildings down your apartment. you were walking down the street, lost in thought, when something pulls your attention toward the soft hum of a new place. the café stands there, tucked in the corner of the street, windows wide open to let the fresh air in, light spilling onto the sidewalk. you slow down your pace, drawn to the cozy space inside. 
beomgyu was behind the counter, his hair a little tousled, falling into his eyes in a way that makes him look effortlessly adorable. his smile was the first thing you notice—bright, welcoming, and easy, like he’s been expecting you all along. it’s a smile that makes you pause, heart fluttering just a little faster, and before you even know what you were doing, your feet were taking you closer to the door, pulling you inside without a second thought.
“hi, welcome in!” beomgyu greets, his voice smooth and warm, with a hint of curiosity that makes you feel like he’s genuinely happy to see you. it’s more than just the usual greeting—there’s something about the way his eyes light up when he looks at you, something that makes you feel a little self-conscious and yet strangely special at the same time.
you hesitate for a moment, not knowing what to say. your usual confidence has fled, leaving behind a slight nervousness that catches in your throat. “uh… just a cappuccino, please,” you manage, your words coming out softer than you intended.
beomgyu doesn’t miss a beat, his smile widening a fraction as he nods. “coming right up.”
as he turns to prepare your drink, you find yourself watching him more than you mean to—his fingers moving smoothly over the espresso machine, his soft hums filling the quiet space, and the way his movements are almost… graceful. the whole scene feels so cozy, and as you stand there waiting for your coffee, you can’t help but catch yourself stealing glances at him. you’re suddenly so aware of how your pulse quickens every time he looks back at you, even just for a second.
when he hands you your cappuccino, the slight brush of his fingers against yours sends a tiny jolt through you, and your breath catches for a moment. it’s only for a heartbeat, but it feels like something more than just a simple touch. his eyes flicker to yours again, and there’s a softness in them that makes your cheeks heat up, though you’re not sure if it’s from the warmth of the coffee or the warmth of his gaze.
“enjoy,” he says, his voice low and sweet, and you feel a sudden longing to stay, to continue this moment, to keep this connection alive just a little longer. but you have to leave, so you turn away, suddenly feeling like the moment has slipped through your fingers too quickly.
the next morning, you’re walking down the same street, and without even thinking about it, your feet lead you straight to the door of the café. the anticipation builds in your chest, a little flutter each step closer, like you’re preparing for something—but you’re not sure what.
“good morning!” beomgyu greets, his voice as smooth as the morning light filtering through the windows. he’s leaning against the counter, his smile easy but warm, like he remembers you, and that makes your stomach flip a little. you try to act casual, but your words stumble out. “morning… uh, just the cappuccino please.”
“of course, i remember,” he chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes your heart soften. he’s so effortlessly kind, and it hits you a little harder than expected, making the air between you feel softer, more familiar.
as he prepares your drink, you can’t help but notice the little things—the way his hands move with purpose, yet they’re gentle, precise. when he hums to himself as he works, you catch yourself listening more intently, savoring the moment. you wonder if he always has this effect on people, or if it’s just you.
when he slides the cappuccino across the counter toward you, there’s that small moment again—his fingers brush against yours, light and almost fleeting, but the feeling lingers, like something unspoken. “here you go, have a great day!” beomgyu says, his eyes meeting yours again, and for a moment, everything feels still.
“thank you,” you murmur, a little shy, a little more self-aware than usual, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. you walk to a table, feeling the heat from your drink and from the gentle attention you’ve been getting from him.
over the next few days, you found yourself in the café more often than you mean to. it starts with little things—a smile, a laugh, the warmth of his presence filling the space whenever you enter. you can’t quite put your finger on it, but each time you see beomgyu, there’s this soft, almost electric feeling in your chest that keeps you coming back. “how’s your day going?” he asks one morning, leaning closer to the counter, his eyes bright with curiosity. you feel the familiar rush of butterflies in your stomach as you answer, and somehow, even the smallest of exchanges makes you feel a little lighter.
“pretty good actually, just the usual,” you respond with a smile, trying to act cool, though your heart is racing a little faster than it should.
beomgyu gives you that knowing smile again, the one that makes your knees feel weak. “i'm glad to hear that! if you need anything else, i’m here,” he adds, and the way he says it feels… different this time, like there’s something more beneath the surface.
over the next few visits, you start noticing small things—the way he remembers your name, the way he greets you like he’s genuinely happy to see you. and it’s not just the coffee anymore; it’s the quiet moments between you, the way you both linger just a little longer each time you speak. you catch yourself smiling to yourself when you’re walking away, your heart swelling a little bit more with each passing day. then, one morning, as you approach the counter, beomgyu slides a pastry next to your drink without you even asking. you blink in surprise, your heart skipping a beat as you stare at the delicate pastry he’s just placed in front of you.
“here,” he says smoothly, his voice warm, almost like it’s a secret shared only between the two of you. “for our most loyal customer.”
you’re caught off guard, unsure whether to laugh or melt into a puddle. your lips curl into a shy smile as you look up at him, surprised by the kindness—and maybe the hint of something else in his voice.
“what?” you laugh softly, raising an eyebrow, “i didn’t order that, though..”
“you didn’t have to,” he replies, his smile soft and knowing, like he’s been paying attention to all the little things about you. “you’ve been coming here every day. thought you deserved a treat.”
there’s something in the way beomgyu says it, something that feels more personal, more thoughtful than just a simple gesture. it makes your heart flutter, and for a second, you’re not sure if it’s the sweetness of the pastry or the sweetness of his words that makes your cheeks heat up.
“why, thank you,” you say, feeling a little shy but undeniably touched. you take a small bite of the pastry, and the sweetness was almost enough to make your heart race, but it’s the way he’s watching you—patient, interested—that truly has your heart fluttering.
“how is it?” he asks, his tone casual, but his eyes never leave you, watching intently as you savor the bite.
you look up at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “it’s perfect,” you reply, feeling your chest warm in more ways than one.
beomgyu’s smile grows a little, and he leans against the counter, his presence filling the space between you both. there’s a small, shared moment of silence, and you’re left wondering if he’s feeling the same way—that strange, undeniable pull that’s slowly building between you two.
as you continue to visit the café over the next few days, the pastries continue. each time, he seems to know exactly what to offer, like he’s learned your preferences by heart. one day it’s a soft cinnamon roll that he claims is “extra special today,” and the next it’s a delicate almond cookie that you don’t even know you’d wanted until he suggests it.
it’s not just the pastries that stand out, though. it’s the way he makes sure to slide your coffee over with a smile that’s just a little more genuine each time, the way his hand brushes yours ever so slightly when handing you your order. you can’t help but notice the subtle things—the way his eyes linger just a little longer than they should, the way he seems to always find an excuse to keep talking to you.
one afternoon, you’re sipping your coffee by the window, watching the world outside, when beomgyu leans over the counter, his voice lowering as he speaks to you.
“just made a fresh batch of croissants,” he says, his eyes twinkling with something mischievous. “i think you’ll really like them.”
you raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “oh? you think so?” you tease lightly, glancing up at him. there’s something so endearing about how he’s trying to impress you with something so simple, yet it feels like a small, intimate moment shared between you two.
“oh, i know so,” beomgyu replies, his voice light and playful. he looks at you with a hint of mischief, and you can’t help but feel your heart skip a little faster. it’s not just the words, it’s the way he says them, the way his eyes sparkle with a knowing glint, as if he’s already certain that you’ll like whatever he’s offering.
“well, i’ll take your word for it,” you reply, your smile softening. “thanks.”
beomgyu slides the warm croissant toward you, his fingers brushing the edge of the pastry just lightly before pulling away. you can’t help but notice how he lingers, his gaze fixed on you, almost as if he’s waiting for your reaction. you take the croissant carefully, the golden flaky layers crumbling slightly as you break off a piece. the warm, buttery scent envelops you, and with your first bite, you feel the soft, rich texture melt in your mouth. it was perfect—the sweet, delicate flavor that you didn’t even know you were craving, and as you chew, you can feel the warmth spreading through you. it’s not just the pastry that’s making your heart race, though. you glance up at him, noticing that he’s watching you intently, his eyes a little wider, as if he’s holding his breath, waiting for you to speak. it’s the kind of look that makes your stomach flip, like he’s unsure whether you’ll like it or not, but he wants you to.
“this is…” you pause, savoring another bite, “amazing,” you finally say, your voice quieter this time, a soft smile curving your lips. you’re not just complimenting the pastry anymore, you realize.
“i’m glad you like it,” he says, his voice a little softer now, almost shy. his eyes flicker to yours, and you can feel the weight of his gaze, the way it lingers a fraction longer than usual. there’s something more here, something unspoken that passes between you both in the quiet of the café. too lost in the taste, you don’t even realize there was a delicate crumb on the corner of your lips until beomgyu’s gaze drops, focusing on your mouth. his hand moves before his mind seems to catch up, reaching out gently, his thumb brushing the corner of your lips, swiping away the tiny remnant of pastry. the touch was featherlight, his skin warm against yours, and the unexpected intimacy of it makes your breath hitch. his eyes widen slightly as he realizes what he’s done, his thumb still lingering close to your mouth, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.
“s-sorry…! there was…” his voice trails off, and he looks almost as flustered as you feel, a rosy tint coloring his cheeks as he quickly pulls his hand back. “crumb…” he finishes, his gaze darting away, but there’s a small, bashful smile pulling at his lips that makes your heart twist in the sweetest way.
“thanks,” you murmur, your own cheeks warming with a blush you can’t quite hide. the air between you shifts, a new layer of awareness settling in, making the moment stretch longer, deeper. and his sweetness didn't stop there. it started happening more often—small, thoughtful gestures that make your heart stir in ways you’re not quite ready to admit. little things, quiet things, but they settle into your chest like warmth spreading through your fingertips, like the first sip of coffee he made on a chilly morning. one afternoon, you’re hunched over your table, forehead resting against your palm as you stare at the endless pages of study material in front of you. the words blur together, your highlighter poised but unmoving, frustration pressing into your temples. your coffee sits untouched beside you, long forgotten, the steam no longer curling from the rim. with a tired sigh, you rub your temple, your free hand tugging absentmindedly at the edge of your sleeve.
then, out of nowhere, a plate slides onto the table in front of you.
your breath catches, startled by the sudden presence of something new amidst your sea of notes and papers. you blink, momentarily confused, before your gaze lands on a small slice of cake sitting neatly on a ceramic plate. delicate layers of sponge and cream, dusted lightly with powdered sugar, topped with a single, perfectly ripe strawberry. it looks almost too pretty to eat, like something out of a display case rather than a last-minute kindness.
but what truly made your heart stutter was the tiny yellow post-it pressed gently against the edge of the plate.
good luck! i know you can do it!
beneath the words, there was a small, round bear doodle, its arms raised in encouragement, as if cheering you on from the sidelines.
your lips part slightly, caught between surprise and gratitude. you reach for the note with careful fingers, peeling it away like it’s something delicate, something you want to keep. your eyes lift instinctively, searching for him, and sure enough, beomgyu stood behind the counter, absentmindedly wiping down a tray, but his attention was on you.
the moment your gazes meet, he doesn’t look away. he doesn’t smirk, doesn’t tease—he just smiles, small and knowing, like he’s glad you noticed, like he doesn’t expect anything in return.
your chest tightens, a breath catching somewhere between your ribs.
you duck your head, trying to hide the way your lips curve upward as you tuck the post-it safely between the pages of your book. picking up your fork, you take a bite of the cake, and somehow, the taste feels richer, the flavors sinking into your tongue like warmth itself.
but that was just the start. one morning, when you pick up your usual coffee, something immediately catches your eye. the foam wasn't just smooth and swirled like usual, no, nestled right in the center is a tiny, delicate heart, drawn so subtly that it almost disappears the moment you tilt the cup. your fingers tighten around the sleeve, the heat from the drink seeping into your skin. you glance up instinctively, and there he was, standing behind the counter like always, completely occupied with the espresso machine. or at least, pretending to be. beomgyu's head was slightly turned, watching—waiting—for your reaction, though his hands continue their practiced motions, adjusting knobs and pressing buttons with casual ease.
the moment your gaze meets his, he looks away. just a fraction too fast.
the next time, it wasn't just a heart.
you got this!
the words werescrawled across the side of your cup in his familiar, slightly slanted handwriting, the exclamation mark punctuated with a tiny, grinning bear doodle. your fingers hesitate for a moment before grazing over the ink, tracing the shape of the little bear as a small, involuntary smile tugs at your lips.
he’s never written on your cup before.
your eyes lift almost instinctively, seeking him out, and sure enough—beomgyu was already looking at you from behind the counter. he’s pretending to wipe down the counter, but the smug tilt of his lips betrays him.
“cute bear,” you murmur, lifting the cup slightly as you meet his gaze.
his brows lift, feigning confusion. “hmm?”
you nod toward the cup. “the one you drew.”
“huh.” beomgyu leans against the counter, tapping his chin as if deep in thought. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”
you roll your eyes, though you can’t hide the way your fingers tighten around the cup, like you’re holding onto something fleeting, something precious.
then there’s the day he spells your name wrong.
not in the way baristas usually do—an honest mistake, a simple mishearing. no, this was very much on purpose.
you stare down at your cup, brows furrowing at the ridiculous, utterly incorrect jumble of letters scribbled across the surface.
“really?” you deadpan, lifting an unimpressed gaze toward him.
beomgyu grins, slow and wide, the kind of grin that spells trouble, one eyebrow quirking in amusement. “oops,” he says, resting his chin in his palm, eyes twinkling with mischief.
you narrow your eyes. “oops?”
he nods, unbothered. “must’ve misheard you.”
“you spelled it right yesterday. and the day before that. and the week before that.”
he gasps, hand flying to his chest in exaggerated offense. “are you accusing me of something?”
you take a slow, deliberate sip of your coffee, not breaking eye contact.
his smirk deepens, but then—just as you’re about to turn away— “… thanks, though,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear.
and he does.
because his smile falters for just a second, something softer, something almost shy flickering across his face before he covers it up with another teasing grin. then on a particularly dreary evening, when the sky split open with rain and the wind howls against the buildings, you push open the café door, the small bell jingling softly above you. droplets cling to your sleeves, your hair damp from the unexpected downpour, and despite your best efforts, your clothes were thoroughly soaked.
beomgyu looks up the moment you step inside. his usual playful greeting dies on his lips, replaced by a flicker of concern. without a word, he disappears into the back, his apron swaying slightly as he moves. you barely have time to register his absence before he returns, something folded neatly in his hands.
a clean, fluffy towel.
he hands it to you like it’s second nature, like this is something he would’ve done regardless of who walked through that door. but you can feel the difference—the softness of the fabric, the way it’s still warm, like he pulled it fresh from somewhere just for you.
“you’ll catch a cold like that,” beomgyu murmurs, propping an elbow against the counter as he watches you pat down your damp sleeves. his voice is gentle, but there was something almost scolding beneath the words, something fond.
you let out a small, sheepish laugh, pushing away your damp hair with the edge of the towel. “i didn’t expect it to rain… and i don't really own umbrellas, so..” you mumble, voice quieter than usual.
beomgyu hums, shaking his head lightly, an amused sort of fondness flickering in his eyes. he doesn’t say anything else, just lets you dry off at your own pace, and when you finally return the towel with a grateful smile, he takes it without hesitation, like it was never an inconvenience in the first place.
the next time you visit, the rain has long since stopped, the streets drying beneath the weak afternoon sun. but when you settle into your usual seat, something unfamiliar catches your eye.
tucked neatly against the chair, as if it had always been there, is a small, folded umbrella. a sticky note rests on the handle.
just in case. :)
there’s no name. no signature. but the handwriting was unmistakable—slightly slanted, the letters round in a way that feels familiar.
and you didn't need to guess who left it. but your sweet routine was soon disrupted though. the morning rush hits like a wave, and you were caught in its current. the alarm blares louder than usual, dragging you out of bed faster than you'd like. the clock blinks a terrifyingly late hour, and you scramble to get dressed, brush your teeth, grab your things—anything to make it out the door on time.
you were running late, leaving you no time for the comforting morning stop at the café. you grab your things in a rush, throwing a jacket over your shoulders, your bag slung messily across your body. as you rush out the door, you can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. you had been looking forward to seeing beomgyu, the thought of his soft smile and the warmth of your usual drink always adding a little extra brightness to your mornings.
but today, it wasn’t meant to be.
still, as you rush through your classes, his face keeps popping into your thoughts. there were moments when you caught yourself smiling, thinking about his little jokes, the way he always makes sure to ask if your coffee’s to your liking. and then there were the fleeting moments when you'd remember the feeling of his gaze on you, how it lingers a little longer than you expect.
it’s silly, you tell yourself. he’s just being nice, right?
but then, your heart betrays you again, fluttering a little faster as you recall the sound of his voice, the way he’d tease you so effortlessly. it’s hard not to feel the small stirrings of something more, something that you can’t quite place. back at the café, beomgyu finds himself glancing toward the door more often than he cares to admit, a soft frown tugging at his lips each time it doesn’t swing open. his mind wanders, his usual focus slipping as the minutes stretch on, each one feeling longer than the last.
he’d noticed you weren’t there that morning, and it had been bothering him more than he would’ve liked to admit. usually, you’d walk in with that soft smile of yours, maybe a joke or two about the day ahead, but today—nothing. the absence of your usual routine feels strange, like a missing piece he hadn’t realized was so important until it was gone.
his hand moves to adjust the espresso machine, but it feels clumsier than usual, as though his thoughts were tangled with the same energy that swirls in the foam he’s trying to perfect. his fingers slip on the cup, almost knocking it over, and he pauses, taking a breath to steady himself.
it’s just one morning, beomgyu tries to convince himself, but the thought doesn’t settle. there was a quiet, persistent worry gnawing at him. his mind races. he wonders if something happened, if you just had a busy morning. he wonders if he’d done something wrong—if he’d said something that might’ve made you not want to come in. his gaze flickers back to the door, the hope of seeing you there quickly replaced by the sinking feeling that maybe you wouldn’t show up at all.
he sighs, wiping a hand over his face as he leans against the counter.
a few, agonizing hours later, you glance at the clock as your last class finally wraps up, the familiar weight of the day’s exhaustion settling into your bones. but there’s something else tugging at you, a quiet pull that urges you to make your way to the café. you can’t shake the feeling that you need to see him, to catch that last sliver of the day before it slips away.
there’s a fleeting hope in your chest, a hope that maybe, just maybe, he would still be there. you hurry through the campus, your steps quickening as the cold night air nips at your skin. your thoughts are scattered, your mind drifting between assignments, thoughts of the morning, and, of course, beomgyu.
by the time you reached the café, you were almost breathless, your heart beating a little faster than usual. you push open the door, the familiar chime ringing through the quiet space, and you freeze for just a moment.
and there he was
beomgyu was behind the counter as always, wiping down the last of the espresso machine with his back to you. the soft hum of the machine is the only sound in the room as he moves, his motions deliberate, like he’s trying to finish up for the night but something—someone—was keeping him here a little longer.
you hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should interrupt or just slip out quietly, but then he hears the door open, his head turning toward you with that smile that makes your heart leap in your chest.
“you’re here,” he says, his voice softer than usual, like he’s surprised to see you after the day you’ve both had. his gaze holds yours a moment longer than it needs to, his eyes catching on yours in that familiar, lingering way that always seems to make you forget how to breathe.
he looks... relieved.
you feel that same flutter in your chest, your nerves buzzing from the way he’s looking at you, like he’d been waiting for this moment too. without thinking, you find yourself smiling a little wider. “i didn’t want to miss seeing you today,” the moment they’re out, your breath catches in your throat. what did i just say? it feels like the room falls completely still, like everything has paused for just a second. your face burns instantly, a deep, flushed heat spreading across your cheeks, and you can’t stop yourself from mentally cringing. oh no, that came out way too—but then, beomgyu’s face shifts ever so slightly. his eyebrows raise, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. you can almost see the moment he processes your words, like his brain is trying to catch up with what just happened. he stands frozen for a heartbeat, as if unsure of how to respond.
and then, almost without thinking, he steps closer, his voice soft but undeniably sincere. “i…” he trails off, his gaze dropping for a second before meeting yours again. there’s an almost sheepish quality to his smile as he shifts his weight, his fingers nervously tapping against the counter. “i didn’t want to miss seeing you either,” he says, and his voice is quieter now, a little unsure but genuine.
your heart does a little flip, and for a second, the air between you both feels thick with something unexpressed, yet shared. the words were simple, but there’s a vulnerability to them, like you both opened up without meaning to. beomgyu clears his throat, shifting slightly, but you notice the way his fingers were trembling just a little as he adjusts the cloth in his hands. it’s the kind of nervous energy you recognize in yourself too, the same shy warmth you both feel in each other’s presence.
“so… how was your day? uh, i mean, not that you have to tell me. but, you know—did you—did you get up to anything fun? i noticed you weren’t here this morning, and i… uh, just…” he trails off, the words spilling out faster than he can control. “i was, uh, wondering if everything was okay? did something happen? you didn’t—um, you didn’t have time to swing by, or—uh, maybe you just didn’t feel like it? or—”
he stops suddenly, his eyes wide with embarrassment, realizing he’s been rambling. his hand moves to the back of his neck in that familiar gesture, the same bashful movement you’ve come to recognize in him. “sorry… i’m just, uh, rambling. didn’t mean to… go on like that.”
you can’t help but laugh softly, the sound light and warm, and it instantly makes his face turn pink. “no, it’s okay,” you say with a small chuckle, trying to reassure him. “i didn’t come by because i, uh, got caught up with some stuff at uni. i was running late and just… didn’t have time to swing by this morning, that’s all.”
beomgyu nods slowly, relief washing over his face as he lets out a quiet breath. “ah, i see…” he murmurs, and there’s another beat of silence, the tension between you two settling into something quieter, more comfortable. you then break the silence, your voice soft but curious. “so, um, are you closing soon?” he looks up, his eyes lighting up a little as he remembers the time. “ah, right, yeah…” he says, glancing around the almost-empty café. “i was about to start cleaning up, actually…” he looks back at you, a small, unsure smile tugging at his lips. you shift awkwardly, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as you try to offer a smile. “if it’s not too much trouble… i don’t mind waiting. i can, uh, keep you company while you finish up,” you say, your words coming out a bit more hesitant than you intended.
beomgyu’s expression softens even further, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you. “you’d do that?” he asks, his voice quiet but filled with something genuine, something appreciative.
you nod, trying to ease the slight tension you’re both feeling. “yeah, of course. i don’t mind,” you reply, your voice warmer now, a little more confident in the offer. the idea of spending more time with him, even in the quiet space of the café, feels comfortable. natural, almost.
his eyes flickered with surprise, then melted into a small, shy grin. “well, in that case… i’d really like that,” he says softly, and there’s a softness in his tone that makes your heart flutter more than you’d like to admit.
as beomgyu begins wiping down the counter, the sound of the rag against the wood fills the quiet café, but there was something soothing about it. the atmosphere between you two had shifted, the awkwardness melting away, replaced by a mutual understanding.
he casually glances over at you, his eyes soft, and you find yourself easing into the rhythm of the moment. the gentle hum of the espresso machine still lingers in the background, and the quietness of the café feels oddly intimate now. it’s just the two of you, and for the first time in a while, it feels like time has slowed down.
you both start talking about your usuals, banter flowing effortlessly between you. you laugh at his silly jokes, the kind that seem to roll off his tongue without any effort, and he grins at your reactions, eyes sparkling with a joyful glint. the sound of your shared laughter fills the air, light and genuine. there’s no rush, no pressure to say anything in particular—just the soft cadence of two people enjoying the quiet connection between them.
"i saw that movie you mentioned last week," beomgyu says, his tone casual as he dries the cups, but his eyes flicker over to you, awaiting your response. "it was way better than i expected."
you smile, nodding. "i knew you’d like it! i was practically bouncing in my seat the whole time." the memory makes you laugh softly, and beomgyu chuckles along with you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, that familiar warmth present in his expression.
"yeah, i could tell," he teases lightly. "you were so into it, you probably didn’t even notice when the popcorn started spilling."
you laugh again, shaking your head. "hey, that's not true! well... maybe just a little bit... but it was totally worth it."
the comfortable back-and-forth continues, and the more you talk, the more natural it feels. you realize how easy it is to be with him—how effortlessly the conversation flows. beomgyu listens intently, his smile never quite leaving his face. you, in turn, find yourself talking more freely, your words coming quicker now, as if the walls you hadn’t even realized you put up were slowly crumbling.
as the minutes ticked by, you both seemed to settle into the quiet ease of the moment, the kind where you don’t have to worry about saying the right thing. the soft clinking of dishes, the occasional hum of the fridge, and your shared laughter fill the space, making the café feel like your own little world.
as beomgyu wipes down the last of the counters and sets everything back in place, the realization settles in—the night was truly winding down. you watch as he moves with practiced ease, stacking chairs, flipping the sign on the door to closed, and turning off the glowing menu board behind the counter. the once-lively café has now quieted into something more intimate, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the windows.
you linger near the door, the warmth of his presence still wrapped around you even as he finishes tidying up. when he finally steps out from behind the counter, he stretches his arms above his head with a tired but satisfied sigh, his sweater riding up slightly in the process. you look away quickly, swallowing the sudden flustered feeling creeping up your neck.
"all done," he announces, running a hand through his hair, making it fluffier than before. he looks over at you with a small, almost reluctant smile. “guess it’s time to head out.”
you nod, though there’s a quiet hesitation between you both, like neither of you really want to leave just yet. still, you step outside together, the cool night air brushing against your skin as beomgyu locks up the café behind him. the street was quieter now, the usual buzz of the day replaced by the occasional passing car and the distant hum of the city settling in for the night.
you turn to him, shifting slightly on your feet. “well… thanks for letting me keep you company,” you say softly, offering a small smile. “i’ll see you tomorrow?”
beomgyu looks at you for a beat longer than necessary, his lips pressing together before curling into something shy and thoughtful. “yeah… see you tomorrow,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t move, his fingers still loosely holding onto the keys in his hand.
you hesitate too, caught in the strange, quiet space between goodbye and something else. and then, just as you were about to turn, beomgyu shifts on his feet, sucking in a small breath before blurting out, “wait.”
you blink up at him, surprised. "yeah?"
he clears his throat, suddenly looking uncharacteristically shy as he scratches the back of his neck. "uh, are you… walking home?” his voice is casual, but there’s something tentative underneath, something unsure.
you tilt your head slightly, nodding. “i am, why...?”
beomgyu lets out a breath, as if he’d just made up his mind about something. “then—” he pauses, shifting again, fingers fidgeting with the strap of his bag. “let me walk you home.”
your heart stutters in your chest.
you stare at him, caught off guard by the unexpected offer, and beomgyu, ever so slightly, begins to fidget under your gaze. "i mean—" he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. “only if you want me to! if you’d rather walk alone, that’s totally fine! i just—y’know, it’s late, and you were rushing this morning, so i figured you probably had a long day and—”
he’s rambling again, words tumbling over themselves in his rush to explain, but there’s something endearing about it, something warm about the way he’s trying so hard not to make this feel like a big deal. and maybe it isn’t—to him, maybe it’s just him being considerate. but to you, the offer lingers in the air, heavier than just a simple walk home.
you find yourself smiling, something soft and fond curling in your chest. “i’d like that,” you say quietly, and the way his expression shifts—relief flickering across his face, followed by something almost bashful—makes your heart skip a beat.
“yeah?” he asks, as if he hadn’t expected you to agree so easily.
“yeah.. i really would..” you nod, and beomgyu presses his lips together to hide the growing smile threatening to spread across his face.
“okay,” he breathes out, glancing ahead before turning back to you. “then… let’s go.”
and so, the two of you fall into step, walking side by side under the glow of the streetlights. the air between you was lighter now, tinged with something warm and comfortable, and though neither of you said it out loud, there was an unspoken understanding lingering in the quiet spaces between your footsteps.
the night air feels softer than usual, the quiet hum of the city settling around you like a warm embrace. each step you took beside beomgyu feels slower, more deliberate—the way your arms sway just slightly too close, the way the sound of your footsteps seems to sync up in a steady rhythm, the way neither of you seem to be in any real rush to get anywhere. his presence beside you was warm, almost grounding, and yet, there was something just barely there; a tension that isn’t quite awkward, but isn’t entirely absent either. it lingers in the spaces between words, in the pauses that stretch just a little too long, in the way you catch him glancing at you before quickly looking away.
beomgyu clears his throat after a moment, the sound small but noticeable in the hush of the evening. “so… do you live close?” he asks, his voice carrying that usual casual lilt, yet it also held just the tiniest bit of hesitance. you glance at him, catching the way his head tilts slightly, his eyes soft in the dim light. he’s watching you, waiting—not impatiently, not expectantly, just curiously, like he genuinely wants to know, like he’s trying to hold onto the conversation for as long as he can.
“yeah,” you answer, voice light but honest. “not too far, actually. just a few more blocks.” beomgyu hums in acknowledgment, nodding slightly as his gaze flickers to the sidewalk ahead. he shifts a little, stuffing his hands deeper into the pockets of his hoodie, and for a moment, it feels like that should be the end of it. just a casual exchange, a small piece of information shared and then left behind. but you find yourself glancing at him again, feeling the question lingering on your tongue before you even fully process the thought. “what about you?”
he lets out a quiet, almost amused breath, as if he wasn’t expecting you to ask. then, with a small shake of his head, he admits, “kind of far, honestly... i usually take the bus home.” you frown slightly, your steps slowing just a little. “then… won’t you miss the last bus?”
beomgyu pauses for half a second before waving a dismissive hand. “no worries, i’ll be fine. there’s a late-night one that still runs. besides…” he sneaks a glance at you, his voice quieter now, “this is the longest i’ve ever spent time with you, anyway.” your breath catches, just for a second, and suddenly, the night air feels heavier, thicker, charged with something neither of you fully acknowledge but both undeniably feel.
beomgyu doesn’t look at you after saying it, doesn’t give any indication that he’s aware of how deeply his words just affected you. but you see it—the way his fingers twitch slightly where they’re tucked into his hoodie, the way the tips of his ears, barely visible beneath his hair, grow a faint shade darker under the streetlights. he’s nervous, you realize, and the thought makes something warm bloom in your chest.
neither of you spoke immediately after that, letting the moment stretch between you, the silence thick but not uncomfortable. the city continues on around you, distant sounds of traffic somewhere far away, but here, in this quiet little bubble of time, it feels like it was just the two of you.
and then, after a beat, beomgyu clears his throat, breaking the silence with a soft but distinct exhale. “so, um… i was actually kinda worried when you didn’t show up today.”
you blink, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice, and turn to him fully. his words catch you off guard, like a quiet breeze that brushes past unexpectedly. “worried?” you ask, your voice soft, the question almost coming out as a whisper. beomgyu nods, a slight blush coloring his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck, his eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “yeah,” he admits, his voice quieter now, “i mean… i know you don’t have to come in every morning or anything, but…” he trails off for a moment, as if trying to find the right way to phrase it. “it just felt weird not seeing you,” he finally says, and the simplicity of it hits you, but it’s also layered with something more—something soft and real that you didn’t expect. beomgyu suddenly exhales, dragging a hand through his hair in a familiar gesture, almost as if he’s trying to smooth over the awkwardness that’s starting to creep in. “god, listen to me,” he chuckles, looking down at his shoes like they’re the most fascinating thing in the world. “i sound so—i dunno. i really thought maybe something happened. or—or maybe you got tired of the coffee.” you smile, feeling a warmth bubble up in your chest at the thought of him being concerned, at the idea that he missed your presence even a little. it felt good, almost comforting. shaking your head, you meet his gaze and reassure him softly, “definitely not tired of the coffee.”
beomgyu gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense, and for a moment, the tension between you two lightens. his expression shifts into something playful, teasing. “so just tired of me, then? great,” he quips, his lips curling into a grin, his eyes sparkling with the same mischievous energy he always has.
you roll your eyes, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “i told you, i overslept, dummy.” you tease back, a small laugh escaping you at the way his face contorts in exaggerated surprise. “right...” beomgyu mutters, his voice lighter now. his eyes flicker over to you for a brief moment, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. then, after a beat, he groans, dragging a hand down his face in frustration, his fingers tugging at his hair as if he’s mortified by himself. “god, i rambled again, didn’t i?” he mutters, his voice sounding a little defeated, but there’s a humorous edge to it, like he’s simultaneously amused and embarrassed by how he’s acting. you grin wider, not able to help yourself as you watch him. it’s almost endearing, seeing him so flustered and out of his element. “you kinda did, yeah.” you tease, your tone light but affectionate, knowing exactly what he’s feeling. beomgyu groans even louder this time, as if the embarrassment was too much for him to bear, dramatically tossing his head back with a sigh. “honestly.. why do i keep doing this around you?” his words were laced with a humor that was so raw and real, but there was an underlying vulnerability to it too. and that's when it happens—before you even have time to think, before you can stop yourself, the words slip from your lips as if they’ve always been there, just waiting for the right moment. “maybe it’s because you like me.” the moment the words leave your mouth, time seemed to have stopped. oh god, no. you freeze, a wave of panic crashing over you as you realize what you just said, your heart practically thundering in your chest. beomgyu’s reaction was almost instantaneous—he freezes too, his breath catching in his throat, his steps faltering, and when you glance up at him, his wide eyes meet yours. he looks stunned, like his brain needs a moment to catch up, his mouth opening slightly like he’s about to say something—but then nothing comes out. you can’t look away from him, your breath stuck in your throat as you process what just happened. oh my god, i just said that, you think, panicking. your heart races, your chest tightens, and before you can think of anything to say to backtrack, he just stands there, blinking at you as if he’s trying to understand the weight of your words. but then, out of nowhere, beomgyu speaks, his words tumbling out before he could think. “do you wanna go on a date with me?” now it was your turn to freeze. what? the words were almost absurd in their suddenness, completely unexpected, and you can feel the ground beneath you shift as if the world itself just stopped turning. it takes a second for your brain to even process what he just said. there’s a full moment of stunned silence before your heart stops completely, and in that moment, all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears and the soft thrum of your pulse. beomgyu, bless him, doesn’t seem to realize what he just did. he’s standing there, red as a tomato, his hands fumbling with his hoodie as he tries to make himself smaller, as if he could physically hide from the mess he’s just made of himself. his eyes were wide, the embarrassment practically radiating off him, but still—still, he doesn’t backtrack.
then, out of nowhere, he speaks. beomgyu’s words tumble out like he's trying to catch up with himself, his voice shaky. “w-wait, no, i—i didn’t mean it like that,” he stammers, his hands nervously twitching at his sides, unsure of whether to shove them in his pockets or rub them together. “i mean... like... uh... that sounded so much less—i mean... you know what i mean, right? it wasn’t supposed to sound like... like that—i wasn’t—i mean, i do like you but like—oh god—” the way his words crash into each other, barely making sense but all spilling out in one chaotic rush, only makes you smile. it was impossible not to. the sight of him, so flustered, trying to explain himself while stumbling over every word, was so endearing that you couldn’t help but laugh softly. the moment was so... him—so sweetly awkward, it made your heart flutter even more. beomgyu swallows hard, and you can practically see the nerves radiating off him. he grips the hem of his hoodie again, as if it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. his eyes were fixed on you, waiting for something, anything—his words a breathless jumble. “maybe you already knew that, or—or maybe i just embarrassed myself completely, but if you feel the same way... uh... y’know... would you wanna, like, you know, go on a date with me?” every single word beomgyu said was wrapped up in vulnerability, but there was still something undeniably hopeful in his eyes, something that made the tension in the air grow even thicker, as if the world was holding its breath with you.
and before either of you could take another breath, you just do it. without thinking, without hesitation, you lean in—fast—and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his cheek, right there in the middle of the street, in the quiet of the night. it was light, quick, and maybe a little impulsive—but it was enough. it was everything.
beomgyu stills, eyes wide, his entire body stiffening for a moment, before his hands slowly creep up to his cheek where your lips just were, as if he’s trying to figure out if it really happened. his face was so red, you think it might burst, and the awkwardness that settles in the moment was palpable, but it was also beautiful.
“there,” you say, your voice a little softer than before, your smile warm and genuine. “that’s your answer.”
beomgyu doesn’t say anything at first. his mind clearly short-circuiting as his fingers hover over his cheek, still in disbelief that you actually did that. it takes him a full moment to process what just happened before he lets out a strangled, breathless laugh, eyes still wide.
“wait, does this mean—is that a yes…?” he asks meekly, his voice a little more unsure this time, the words tumbling out in a rush as he tries to piece it all together.
you can’t help but laugh softly at how sweetly flustered beomgyu was, the corners of your lips curving into a gentle smile. “mhm,” you answer, your voice soft and teasing, like you’re savoring the moment. you try your best to hide the warmth that rushes to your cheeks, but it was impossible when he looked at you like that, with such a mix of relief, hope, and something else—something that made your chest tighten with a quiet excitement.
“i would love to go on a date with you, gyu,” you add, and the words come so naturally now, like they’ve been waiting to slip out for ages. there was no hesitation, just the soft certainty of it all.
beomgyu’s eyes widen, and his smile, though shy, spreads across his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. it was slow at first, but then it deepens, his entire face lighting up with a happiness so pure, it almost makes you forget how to breathe. he then lets out a breath after a moment, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, something light and nervous. “so… uh, when do we… uh… go on this date, then?” he asks, his voice soft but uncertain.
you couldn't help but smile, feeling the warmth of the moment settle in your chest. without thinking, you suggest, “how about tomorrow?” beomgyu falters for just a second as he processes your words. his eyebrows knit together slightly, his lips parting as if he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out at first. he blinks a few times, clearly taken aback by the quickness of your offer.
“wait—tomorrow?” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, and for a moment, he looks almost stunned by the suddenness of it all. there was something undeniably adorable about the way he’s trying to catch up with the pace of your words.
you bite your lip, feeling the nerves creep up your spine, but you don’t back down. “yeah,” you say with a playful shrug, trying to sound casual, like suggesting tomorrow as a date wasn't the most nerve-wracking thing you’ve ever done. “why wait when we could just… go ahead and do it, right?” beomgyu looks at you for a long moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to process what just happened. then, slowly, as if the weight of your suggestion has finally registered, his lips curl up into a shy, crooked smile. “that is true, yeah,” he says, his voice shaky but filled with that same eagerness that makes your heart skip a beat. “tomorrow sounds.. perfect. yeah. let’s do that.” you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the excitement swirling in your chest. “it’s a date, then,” you say, your grin spreading wider, the words feeling so right as they leave your mouth.
beomgyu’s face was still flushed, and you can see his hands twitching at his sides, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. he laughs nervously, the sound filling the quiet street around you. “yeah, tomorrow,” he repeats, as if saying it out loud helps solidify the reality of it all.
then, without a word, he reaches his hand toward you. it was a simple gesture, but in that moment, it felt like everything you could ask for and more. you looked at his hand for just a second, a tiny flutter of nervousness in your chest, before you reach out, your fingers brushing against his.
beomgyu’s hand closes around yours, the warmth of his skin sending a quiet thrill through you. there’s a sense of quiet satisfaction, of happiness shared in the simplest touch, and you both fall into step side by side, fingers intertwined. the world feels a little quieter, a little softer, as you walk together into the night, the promise of tomorrow’s date lingering between you.
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꒰🧸꒱ @pagelets @jettithink @killa-1009 @j-ji-jia @frankghgr @dawngyu @usuallyunlikelyfox @sxmmerberries @napipope-ta @bamgeutori @xylatox @hyunj00 <3 (click here if you want to be added !! ^^)
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thegreatmousebafoon · 4 months ago
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( y’all this is a long one- but trust me it’s worth it lol )
5 y/o Rosie ( in a strangers car ): You said my dads where at the hospital?
Kidnapper: Oh, yeah-… he was in a car accident. They just wanted me to take you home.
Rosie: right… and um, which one is it?
Kidnapper: um… the.. tall one. Your other dad is staying with him.
Rosie: hm, ok!… so, you drive a mini-van.
Kidnapper: uh.. yes? So?
Rosie: but you have no kids?
Kidnapper: …. No, I don’t- how did you-
Rosie: hm and no ring… can’t find a husband?
Kidnapper: Hey listen here you little-
Rosie: It’s probably because your well past your prime. I suggest some surgery. Not even working out or a touch if make up will help you-
Kidnapper: HEY- you- this is not worth it- I’m stopping the car- GET OUT!
Rosie: … I know what you’re trying to do.
Kidnapper: … what?
Rosie: We don’t have a car to get into an accident with and my dad, the taller one, thinks hospitals are a waste of time. My OTHER dad is a doctor, so if he was hurt he would probably take care of it.
Kidnapper: ok well… what are you gonna do about it? I’ve still got you.
Rosie: ( slowly hold up something in her hand )
Kidnapper: … you have a phone?
Rosie: No im too young for a phone, this is a pager.
Kidnapper: oh yeah? And who are you gonna page?
Rosie: my dads. About 45 seconds ago.
Kidnapper: …
Rosie: judging by your complete lack of skills, you where not hired by any of my parents various enemies, therefore you do not know who they are. I’ve been sending them Street names so they know where we are. I say you have about ( checks her hello kitty watch ) 15 seconds until they get here.
Kidnapper: …
Rosie: since we have some time, here are some critiques of your technique. First of all, actually do some research before you go into-
Kidnapper: you’re giving me advice? Shouldn’t you want to prevent me from doing this again-
Rosie: oh well, one of my dads, Sherlock Holmes by the way, in case you’ve heard of him, hasn’t had a case in a week and he’s just about lost his mind. If you where to manage getting out of this alive, I was hoping I’d have a case to give him, and I wanted you to make it interesting for him.
Kidnapper: … that’s… morbidly sweet.. I think?
Rosie: yeah, well, it’s kind of pointless now judging by the red dot on your head.
Kidnapper: Wha- ( turns around to see a laser pointed at their forehead ) … Oh shit-
Rosie: ( checks her watch again ) 20 seconds, they’re getting slow. By the way, my other dad, the shorter one, and the one that I’d guess is pointing the snipper at you right now, is a retired military veteran from Afghanistan, with nearly perfect aim. He has killed about-
Kidnapper: I THOUGHT YOU SAID HE WAS A DOCTOR-
Rosie: He had bad days. Ok! Byeee-
Kidnapper: Wait- if you knew what I was doing, why did you stay in the car?!
Rosie: I was really hoping you’d be able to get my dads out of the house. They’ve been driving me crazy. Sorry you where such a disappointment. Have fun in jail!
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hearts4maddison · 5 months ago
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❅ A Cozy Christmas!
| Lando Norris x Reader.
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- pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader. - warnings: fluff..fluff and more fluff,only some swearing kissing flirting,kinda sexual? let me know if i’ve missed any. - summary: After a chaotic f1 season comes to an end You and lando bask in bed at home all day long as a cold December day rolls around in Monaco.
- Note: Merry christmas! to everyone who celebrates and over all have a wonderful break! And yes can you believe i posted like i’m alive probably gonna disappear again? this isn’t the best kinda rushed it but enjoy!
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The cold crisp December feeling lingered around the air in Monaco and sheet of snow covered the grounds. Sounds of Tourist,cars and people out shopping for the holidays ringed out in the air through the window of the penthouse.
Looking over to the night stand the clock time in bold numbers read out 10:30 half of the day already passed laying in bed in his arms Lando’s arms.
looking down seeing the side of lando sleeping face, his face buried into your chest the feeling of his arms tightly wrapped around your waist as he lets out a small huff shifting around under the warmth of the covers.
your hand slowly makes its way to his face moving his soft curls out of his face as he slowly shifts his eyes fluttering open adjusting to the light as he gives a dazed look
“couldn’t get enough of admiring me?” Lando says his voice groggy as he gives a goofy smile.
“sure mr big ego good morning to you to?” You reply rolling your eyes
“don’t worry i know im just so handsome and talented and-“ He says before you cut him off
“okay! okay! we get it” You laugh out
“just making sure ya know?” he replies his lips going to the soft skin of your neck leaving small kisses there
“lando..We need to get up” you mumble your hands going to his hair feeling the softness of his curls
“Nu uh ive got absolutely nothing to do..other than you?” He says with a shit eating grin on his face.
“Seriously!”
“i can’t help it but seriously i’ve got nothing to do other than be in bed with you.” he whispers against your neck his arms tightening around your waist
“so you don’t wanna do anything all day?” you ask
“Nope i’ve missed you my love..so much i just wanted to get home to you all season” he says locking eye contact with you before kissing your lips
“hm i couldn’t wait till you were home”
“im home now and i don’t want to do anything other than be here with you” Lando says giving you another soft peck on the lips
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And he meant every word. He refused to get up mostly get off you constantly kissing your face leaving softy pecks everywhere. The amount of times you had tried to get up for the bathrooms but he would protest keeping you in place.
Eventually you gave up trying to go and kinda accept that you weren’t leaving the bed any time soon and you didn’t really complain. You had him home,in your arms content.
However it got to point you had finally convinced him to let you get up and he was not happy but you made it up to him by moving to the kitchen making Hot chocolate with shit loads of marshmallows and whipped cream.
And the once calm and content atmosphere turned into hectic as you and Lando put up christmas decorations around the house aswell as decorating the tree.
“..Lando! That bauble doesn’t go there!” You say throwing a bit of tinsel at him
“Hey watch it! i have vision alright” He said giving a upset face
“well if the vision is putting a bunch of random tinsels and gonks on the tree then..?”
“..your just mad i’m a way better designer than you” he mocks
“.i think you should stick to f1” You scoff
“keep that attitude up y/n” Lando says shaking his head
“Or what?” You challenge rolling your eyes
You managed to get out before lando picked you you up throwing you over his shoulder.
“Knew we should’ve never gotten up!” he says
“Put me down! Now!” you respond kicking your legs around in the air as lando walks to the bedroom.
“Nope! ow! stop the kicking you muppet!”
“rude” you grumble
“Don’t worry i’ll make it up to you.” he says before closing the bedroom door
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In the end the tree was finally put after many interruptions but it all came together the greens and red standing out in the corner of the room. The whole penthouse giving a christmas festive look.
You lay your head on Lando shoulder as the movie plays in the back as you feel his lips kiss your head before shifting so your leaned into him breathing in his strong cologne in.
“Still think we should’ve listened to me-” he says with a laugh
“shut it” you say looking up at him
“Yes ma’am” he says while laughing as you push him slightly making him laugh more as he wraps his arms around you and kisses you.
“..that’s what i thought”
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MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE! i hope you enjoyed this it’s not that great idk if i’ve made any spelling mistakes but please tell me if i have!
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hoshifighting · 7 months ago
Note
Hello! I love your work 🥹 I hope you are well
Just wanna ask your thoughts on how the seventeen members would react to see you driving speed / you being fast on connected apps like ‘Find My’ heheheeheh
Thank you ❤️
a/n: thank u sweetie, i loved it!! im doing well!! <33 i hope i understood well.. like a gearhead girlfriend?... made w/ luv ❤️
WARNINGS: mentions of breakig the speed limit
seungcheol: “yo yo yo, slow the fuck down, we ain’t tryna die today!!” he’s literally shouting through the app, and you could almost see him gripping the imaginary 'oh shit' handle in the backseat. he loves you, but he’s lowkey shitting bricks rn, “bruh, this ain't fast & furious... i swear if we crash, it’s on you.”
jeonghan: sigh “baby, why you gotta be like this?” he’s too cool to actually panic, but you can feel him judging the fuck outta you. he’ll make you feel like the most irresponsible person alive while also making it clear he’s kinda impressed. “next time, let me drive so we don’t both end up with speeding tickets… but like… you kinda look hot doing it though, not gonna lie.” he’s smirking on the other side of the screen.
joshua: “ok but like… are we trying to break a record or what?” he’s nervous but trying to stay calm, but you can tell he’s clutching his pearls behind that smooth tone. “maybe, uh, we could slow down just a tiny bit? just a suggestion...” definitely trying not to freak out completely, but he’s one bad swerve from straight-up praying.
jun’s all for it, honestly. he’s got his phone up to show the speedometer on his end, clearly thriving. “you wanna hit 120? bet, i’m down, let’s fucking go!” jun’s just living it, probably snapping selfies like it’s no big deal while the car’s shaking at 90 mph.
hoshi: “wait—WAIT! y/n, no no NO, what the hell?? slow down before i shit my pants.” he close his eyes, dramatic as fuck, genuinely convinced y’all are about to fly off the highway. nearly crying as he clutches his phone. “i got shit to do tomorrow!! i can’t die today, not like this!”
wonwoo’s just... chillin’. he doesn’t really say much at first. just sends a simple, “you good?” text. he’s the only one calm in this whole situation. when you don’t respond right away, he hits you with, “bet you won’t keep up with the guy in the ferrari tho...” and you’re like, oh shit. he’s egging you on. he's vibing with the chaos, but lowkey wants to see how far you'll take it.
woozi: “y/n, you better chill the fuck out.” straight-up scolding you. no fluff, just pure frustration. jihoon’s too rational for this speed demon shit, and he’s already calculating how much the damn fine’s gonna be if you get caught. “if you crash, you better hope i’m not in the car, ‘cause i ain’t helping your ass.” classic jihoon—pissed, but still kinda impressed at your audacity.
seokmin: “YO, SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!” pure panic in his voice,like he’s watching a horror movie. “do you wanna give me a heart attack? holy shit!!” he’s basically pleading with you at this point, full-on hands shaking, worried sick like a damn mother hen. “i’m way too pretty to die like this, please, for the love of god, just slow down.”
mingyu: WELL THIS MAN HAVE LICENSE FOR IT, no fear at all. “you drive like a fucking beast, lemme hop in the car next time.” he’s fully living for the thrill, no reservations whatsoever. he’s gassing you up like no one would. adrenaline junkie.
minghao’s already over it. deadpan as fuck. “why you gotta stress me like this? i’m way too zen for this shit.”
seungkwan: “OKAY STOP! STOP! i didn’t sign up for this kinda trauma. you tryna die young, huh?!” yelling in the app for you to pull over before he passes out from sheer anxiety. “i’m never getting in a car with you ever again, swear on my life.”
vernon: “i mean, if we crash, we crash. kinda sick though, right?” no panic, no complaints, just lowkey impressed. “but like… how fast can you actually go?”
chan: “y/n, this isn’t a fucking video game!” poor baby is stressed out, clenching his fists like his life’s on the line. “i can’t do this. my heart can’t handle this. you tryna give me a heart attack?!” genuinely scared shitless. “you really gotta slow down before i fucking pass out in the toilet bro”
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mrssabinecallas · 2 months ago
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Catching Up || Tim Bradford
pairing: tim bradford / formermilitary!fem!reader
in which tim runs into an old soldier he used to know in the bustling city of los angeles.
*guys i tried to hard to not use y/n or y/l/n but im sorry it had to be done :(*
cw! intended lowercase, not proofread, fluff, mentions of abuse and cheating, hints of smut of you squint towards the end :)
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gif not mine, creds to owner above!
it had been 15 years since tim bradford had made his decision to retire from active duty in the army. shortly after he made that decision, he regretted it. becoming a cop? boy, was he stupid, it would never work out. now, 15 years later, he likes where he ended up. 12 years as a TO, and a bit of being a sergeant under his belt, he could’ve never predicted this is where he would be in the LAPD.
it was another day out on patrol, lucy chen sitting in the passenger seat of his shop, chattier than ever. tim just wanted the quiet, but he knows how she is. she won’t shut up for anything.
“so- anyways. we get to the restaurant, and he told me he had a reservation. turns out he lied, and the wait was over an hour. literally, the worst first date i think i’ve ever been on,” lucy rambled on, and tim added his two cents every now and then. it was a surprisingly quiet morning, very few calls coming in, and other units would attatch before he could. so, he resorted to traffic stops to try and make time go a little faster.
in this particular traffic stop, he pulled over a man for running two stop signs. when running his license, tim found out he was flagged as a suspect in a few armed robberies in the last few weeks. he decided to take a peak through the windows, seeing if he could spot anything to make the morning more interesting.
as he leaned back to hand the driver his license and registration, he saw two guns lying in the backseat floorboard. not very well hidden, he thought.
“sir, do you have a license to carry those firearms?”
“what firearms? i don’t have anything.”
“uh-huh. sure. and i’m a property brother. now, ill ask again, do you have a permit to carry the two weapons in your backseat?”
before the man responded, he looked over at lucy, standing on the passenger side, and slammed on his gas pedal. tim cursed under his breath as he took off back to the shop, and sped after the driver.
“07-adam-19, we are code 3, on road pursuit of a suspect of a few armed robberies, he is armed. gray sedan, driving 55 on melrose. requesting backup and airship.” he commands over the shop’s radio.
following the driver, he loses sight of the sedan in the traffic of lunch rush. “shit.”
“there!” lucy, quiet as she’s been all morning, pipes up and points to the vehicle turning onto a one-way road downtown.
“he’s driving against traffic on a one-way, is he trying to get killed?” tim questions, following in close pursuit.
“maybe he thinks we won’t follow him down a one way?” lucy chimes in.
before tim can manage to respond, they watch the gray sedan crash head on into a semi. glass shatters everywhere, the car seemingly crushing on impact. tim quickly parks the shop, and they run over to the accident, checking on the man inside.
“sir- sir are you alright?” lucy asked, concerned. in response, the man groans.
“well, he’s alive. let’s assess injuries and take him in.”
they pull the man out of the car, scanning for injuries, but surprisingly the man is barely hurt. lucy heads over to the semi to talk to the driver, while tim cuffs the owner of the sedan and guides him into the shop. the ride back to the station was quiet, filled with the occasional radio chatter.
“a property brother, huh?” lucy teases.
“i think i would be a hell of a property brother.”
“i mean, you look the part. you’re just to grumpy to be on tv.”
tim just sighs. as they pull back into the station, tim takes the suspect in for processing while lucy takes the guns found in the car to evidence. as tim is processing and prepping the paperwork, he sees a face he hasn’t seen in a very long time.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
it had been 8 years since you made the decision to retire from active duty in the navy. shortly after you made that decision, you decided it was the best decision you had ever made. going back to school, getting a degree to help better the world and the people in it. not to mention your divorce. that had quite an impact on your decision.
you saw first hand the mental toll that special forces, well, military life in general had on people that decided to join. this included yourself, close to your breaking point with the physical and mental demands of special ops. you decided to use your GI bill to go back to school and get your psychology degree, trying to help those who struggled as you did.
now, 8 years later, you had been a successful therapist and mental health counselor in los angeles. it was a change of pace from the constant, bustling military life you had gotten used to, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. getting to hear all kinds of stories from all kinds of people was the highlight of your career.
a few weeks ago, you received word that the mid-wilshire police department contacted you about a new task force: criminal psychology and recovery. after some back and fourth, you had a meeting with sergeant grey and the union rep, officer nolan, set for this morning.
walking into the alive station was caffeine to your veins. it reminded you of being on-duty, reliving your life on base or on a ship. walking up to the front desk, you politely let the officer know you’re here to meet with grey.
after a few minutes, a stoic man shakes your hand and introduces himself as sergeant wade grey. formal introductions are made as he leads you back to his office, handing you a visitor pass.
“please, take a seat. officer nolan should be here any minute, can i get you anything?”
“i’m alright, thank you sergeant.”
“please, call me wade. now, i understand you were in the military? what happened there, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“of course! i was in the navy, worked special ops. after a few years, i saw and felt how taxing it was for myself and fellow sailors, so i decided to do something about it. got my degree in psychology, and started working mental health counseling.” you explained to wade, animatedly moving your hands.
“interesting. what kind of work did you do in special ops?”
before you could respond, an older man walks in. “sorry i’m late, got caught up in processing. ms y/l/n, nice to finally meet you! i’m officer john nolan, and im looking forward to what you have in mind for this new project.”
the three of you go back and fourth for roughly an hour, talking specifics of the program and nailing down a solid plan. you jot down notes on your phone, and before you know it, you’re set to head an LAPD task force in two weeks.
standing, you shake sergeant grey and officer nolan’s hands, as they begin to walk you out. from behind, you hear a somewhat familiar voice ring out.
“y/l/n?”
you turn, facing the sound.
“bradford?”
you’re both shocked to see each other, standing in silence for just a moment before he approaches you for a hug.
“it’s been a while! since when were you in LA?” he questioned, a small smile shining through his grumpy work persona.
“a few years now, actually! started mental health counseling around here about four years ago,” you explained, while nolan and grey just look at each other and back to you and bradford.
“wait, bradford you know ms. y/l/n?” john questions, trying and failing to piece it together without an explaination.
“yeah. we, uh, worked a few operations together back in my army days. this girl is hell of a leader, i’ll tell you that. she led an ops team of army, navy, and marines into a huge crack in enemy territory. gave us the upper hand in a ton of future fights.” tim compliments, focusing on you.
“oh please, i led my people, you led yours. don’t give me all the credit bradford.” you laugh. you forgot how easy it was to be around him and banter.
“yeah yeah. well, i do have to head back, gotta process this S.O.B. so we can hit the streets again. hey, why don’t we catch up? grab drinks, on me?”
“sounds like a plan, what time do you get off?”
“8:00.” you open your phone calendar to add “drinks with tim” into the 8:00 spot, and slide the device back into your pocket.
“well as lovely as this has been, i have a lot of work to do, yknow, setting up a new program and all. officer nolan, sergeant grey, lovely to meet both of you, and ill stay in contact. tim, ill see you tonight!” you wave as you walk away.
the rest of the day seems to fly, contacting some of your colleagues to aid you in this new project. tim seems to feel the same, arresting a few people and filling out paperwork. by the time 8 pm rolls around, you find yourself texting tim.
Tim
———
-hey, where we headed for drinks?
there’s a bar down the street from the station, meet me there? -
-perfect, i’ll be there in 10 :)
you smile and shift your car into drive, enjoying the peaceful california evening. after a few minutes, you push open the door to a small bar called “the hard road bar.” glancing around, you spot tim in a booth against the wall.
sliding yourself into the seat across from him, you exchange your hellos, as a waitress comes up to ask for your drink orders. tim gets a whiskey neat and you order two shots of tequila.
“so, mental health counseling, huh?” tim questions as the waitress walks away.
“yeah! special ops is draining, and i saw how bad it affected people. so i wanted to help.” you give him the brief explanation, and bounce a question back onto him. “how’s police work going? last time we talked was, what, 9 years ago? you were barely touching the surface of your job now.”
“it’s good! i enjoy it. keeps me busy, i get to protect people, and teach the next generation of officers. it’s hard a lot of days, but seeing that people are being helped and trouble is taken off the streets makes it worth it. oh! how’s shawn?” he ricochets back.
you pause. you weren’t expecting him to ask about your ex-husband. tim seems to notice your hesitation. “you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to-“
“-no! no, it’s okay. uh, shawn and i got a divorce 8 years ago. part of the reason i retired, i needed to get the hell away from him.”
“woah, what’s the story there?” he questions, as the waitress sets down your drinks, and he picks up his glass.
“to make an overwhelmingly long story short, shawn cheated, i found out and filed for divorce. he did not make the process easy, but a few bruises and court dates later, i’m free.” you pick up one of the shot glasses, throwing it back as the liquor burns your chest.
“damn, he cheated? on you? and- what do you mean bruises?” he questions as he lifts his glass to his lips.
“well… when i found out he was cheating, he tried to manipulate me into staying. when that didn’t work, he resorted to… violence. but it’s fine now. he’s in prison for domestic assault charges, and i have his money. so it’s great!”
tim laughs at your last statement, but his expression softens into one of concern. “are you alright, though? i never knew he was the kind of guy to do something like that.”
“yeah, i’m good. whenever he gets out, my lawyer already has the restraining order ready to go. so he won’t be an issue. oh! how’s isabel?”
“ah- my turn for the awkward long story short. we got divorced a few years ago too. she started using and got hooked, i lost contact with her for two years before i could get her into rehab. i broke it off from there,” tim explained, waving his free hand around gently and holding eye contact.
“oh! yknow, out of all things, i never expected that. well, cheers to us being in the same boat, yeah?” you hold up your other shot towards him, and he clinks his glass against yours. as the night drawls on, more drinks and added to the tab, and eventually you both decide to call it quits. drunkenly, but still, call it a night.
as you’re walking next to tim out to your cars, you check your phone and read “1:27 am. damn. that was a lot more time than i thought,” you hiccuped, and looked back up at tim’s face. has he always been that attractive?
“yea’, it definitely was. we sh’uld do ‘t again sometime.” tim’s words slurred, as he leaned closer to you to pull you into a hug.
you leaned into him, and relaxed into his body heat. he smelled nice, like fresh rain and forest. you let your melt under his touch, and you just want to stay there forever.
tim eventually pulls away, but keeps a firm hold on your shoulders. you look up at him, wondering where these sudden thoughts are coming from. he makes eye contact, and his lips part slightly. your eyes snap to this small movement, and you can’t help but wonder how nice of a kisser he would be.
he notices the shifting of your eyes, and before he knows it, his lips are on yours, eyes closed, breathing in your presence. your floral perfume, the fabric of your blouse, the hand he feels caress his face. he wants more of it. he slides his hands from your shoulders to your lower back, and lightly pull you closer.
he suddenly pulls away, panting slightly, and looks back over at his truck. “yknow what, fuck it. wanna keep this going?”
“you know i do, bradford. you know i do.”
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
ahh!! i wrote this at 3 am bc i love tim bradford and i need this thought out of my head.
yes, i did do army navy for a reason, go navy, beat army, hooyah, bite me! i had to squeeze it in there!!
let me know if y’all want a part 2!!! i’m more than happy to oblige ;)
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ew-selfish-art · 2 years ago
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Dp x Dc AU: Tim doesn’t rest, not even in Death.
It’s a heart attack that gets him, well, that and the insane amount of fear toxin flooding his system. He was dead for a full three minutes before he watches (how was he watching?) his eldest brother get his heart going again and get his unconscious body to the cave. Alfred gets him onto bat-life support and Leslie looks gravely at his family after she’s done her best to heal him. They decide to keep trying, they don’t want to believe he’s gone.
Tim watches in fury. He’s more useful than this, he’s not just going to die and let the family mourn him! Tim sets to work trying to understand what’s happened to him and he realizes he must be a ghost. Therefore, if he wants to understand ghosts he needs to go where ghosts are, and thankfully he just read a JLD doc saying to avoid Amity Park at all costs.
It’s takes him a second to get used to flying at full speed, but he finds himself surrounded by strange people in a strange town and… he notices himself becoming more visible. He’s able to interact with more and more objects, he even picked up a pencil! Poltergeist is a step forward in his plan, Tim accepts this change of pace.
Then Tim meets Danny, a normal human kid who looks like he could be brought into the manor and given a cape, who looks straight at him.
“Wait, who are you? You didn’t die in Amity did you?”
“No, I died in Gotham. I came here to understand how I’m a ghost and how I can get back to my dying body. I just need a few answers.” Tim explains, and notices that his voice isn’t his own, like it’s a different language entirely that comes out.
“Well, uh, I dunno about going back to your body but it’s not safe for you to be here. The GIW are looking for lost souls like you that people won’t notice go missing. So get back to your family and find peace. Im sorry but that’s really the best advice I have.” Danny answers.
Tim begs him for answers on the GIW. Begs him for any answers at all. Danny shrugs him off each time, tell him that he’s just a ghost and he needs to move on before he gets hurt or becomes a problem.
Tim decides if he’s a problem, he’ll probably get more answers.
Soon enough, he’s stepping into the end of a battle where Phantom is getting Skulker into a thermos, and demands answers, and if not answers help.
They brawl, and Tim’s training as Red Robin gets him farther than a lot of ghosts. And then, when he knows he’s beat and he’s about to share thermos space with the robot jackass (who he can interrogate and then build his own robot) Tim realizes something.
“You’re still alive, aren’t you? You’re Danny, black hair and blue eyes.” Tim says and suddenly Phantom is as still as the dead despite the accusation.
“How the fuck- dude. Okay, you know what? Fine. Lets go talk, you’re clearly not giving up and I need you to never say that shit out loud ever again.”
Because blackmail works in life for Tim, blackmail also apparently works in death.
He’s given all of the info they have on the GIW, he’s introduced to ghost technology and how it works with ectoplasm. He’s told about the portal (although they refuse to sneak him into the house to see it- he can handle a few lasers, ugh) and he’s told about the general sequence of events in Danny’s life/death.
And then Tim is suddenly back in his body in Gotham.
The family found a way to bring him back and he’s 100% alive, no longer ghostly, but he retained all his memories.
“We have a war against the government to start” are not the first words his family expected to hear from Tim post death.
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