Tumgik
#but then we have to fit like four people into our bed every night
ectoplasmer · 2 years
Text
i knew the confusing side of the whole ancient-egyptian-spirit thing was gonna catch up to me at some point… should I be listing TKB in the f/o list??
I mean technically I’ve been counting him under Yami Bakura, but even with my own interpretation of him I acknowledge that they’re two different people. I can’t even really interact with him in terms of my current world with my f/os, since. y’know. he’s not exactly alive, and the part of him that is lives on with Bakura. Either way, most of Zorc’s influence on Bakura diminished after getting defeated by Atem, so it’s not like him and thief king would even be that different. By this point, Bakura is him, just with the slightly maniacal undertones and kinda put together manners. But he’s also just… not exactly him if that makes sense?? aaa this is confusing >-< i’m just gonna leave the f/o list as it is now and hope people can insinuate that all bakurae apply since… two of them are already on there lol
5 notes · View notes
mrspasser · 2 months
Text
I'll lay my head down here
Sterek fanfiction Stiles needs a place to sleep. He chooses Derek.
Also available on A03.
Tumblr media
image source
“I’m not sleeping on the floor again, you assholes!” Stiles throws a balled up burger wrapper at the infuriating werewolves who took over his intended sleeping space. 
Isaac bats the greasy paper ball away with a quick flick of his hand, hardly having to look at it. “You snooze, you lose, Stilinski,” he says meanly, as he snuggles deeper inside the couch pillows to drive his point home. “Besides, I gave up my bed, I shouldn’t be the one to sleep on the floor.”
Stiles perks up when an idea crosses his mind. Upstairs, in Isaac’s room, are Lydia and Cora. Maybe he could -
“Don’t even think about it, Stilinski!” Jackson cuts his unspoken thought off with one sharp remark. He glares at him from his spot on the couch he’s sharing with Isaac: one asshole werewolf on each side. The guy is extra touchy because Lydia picked Cora as a sleeping partner over him - which is more than fair, if you ask Stiles, both Lydia picking Cora over Jackson and Jackson being sour over getting the cold shoulder from his girlfriend.
“I’m sorry, Stiles, I don’t think you’ll fit,” Allison offers apologetically from his right. She’s squeezed in the large armchair with Scott, who’s already fast asleep and snoring softly. 
He waves her offer away. If he’d try to squish himself in the chair with them, neither one of them would sleep a wink all night. Same goes for the couple in the other available chair, although Stiles is more sure to survive the night with Scott and Allison than with Boyd and Erica. That only leaves - 
“You could try Derek?” Allison blinks innocently at him. 
Stiles huffs a laugh, letting the sarcasm bleed through in generous helpings. “Yeah, right.” He leaves it at that, too tired to hope to put up the proper facade of pretending to dislike the Alpha werewolf. Hey, we all deal with our crushes in our own way! Stiles has to do what he can when literally living with a pack of wolves, who can smell pheromones and who knows what else.
Eventually, he settles for stretching out on the rug that Lydia made Derek buy a while back. It’s not overly cushiony, but it’ll do the job. It’ll have to. Besides, he hasn’t had a proper night of sleep in four or maybe even five days, staying up researching and worrying most of the night. The Big Bad is dead, the worrying is over and his research paid off: he should be able to sleep now, right?!
At first, Stiles uses his hoodie for a pillow, yet after about twenty minutes he gives up and pulls it back on because he won’t be able to sleep if he’s cold. Derek patched up most of the holes in his loft and it’s actually resembling a nice apartment these days, but it’s still the middle of the night in February and Stiles is lying on the floor without a blanket or a pillow. He misses his own bed. His comforter. His pillow. His other pillow, the one that’s older than him and oddly lumpy, but it was the one that was in his mother’s bed until the day she died. It hasn’t smelled like her in a long, long time. Stiles has also washed it a couple of times during the years, he’s not that much of a pig, despite popular opinion. But it’s familiar and comforting and he still takes it with him for sleepovers with Scott. 
He considers whether or not he would’ve brought his pillow if this impromptu sleepover had been planned in any way. He’s known Scott since kindergarten, he’s his best friend. He wouldn’t say or even think anything bad about Stiles still needing a special pillow to sleep even when he’s almost twenty one years old. And while he knows most of the people in this room for five years or even longer and trusts them with his life, that doesn’t mean that they’re not a bunch of dickheads who will tease him every chance they get.
It’s a pointless thought exercise, because nothing about this sleepover was planned. They were supposed to kill that wyvern during the day, when it slept in his creepy little cave. That's what all Stiles’ research was for! He even found a way to kill the beast without having to hack it to pieces, which was nice because in the end he was against animal cruelty, you know? But then there were witches, two of them. They weren’t planned, neither was the ensuing fight in the woods. The unexpectedness of it all had left everybody antsy, especially the werewolves. And even though they recouped with a movie night and a nice pack pile, nobody wanted to be very far away from the others. Hence the impromptu sleepover that had Stiles sleeping on a rug, between the coffee table and the couch. Which wasn’t fair, because he totally knocked a witch out with his bat! He did his fair share and pulled his weight and what not. The least he deserves is a nice night of sleep.
Another hour later, Stiles is sore all over and chilled to the bone. There’s no way he can sleep like this. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he whispers to the leg of the coffee table that he knows has Isaac’s claw marks on it. 
As quietly as he can he makes his way upstairs on the rounding stairs. On the landing there’s three doors to choose from: the one on his left leads to Isaac’s bedroom, where Lydia and Cora are sleeping. The one in the middle is the bathroom - with a bath, for heaven’s sake, Derek has a tub! - and that leaves the master bedroom on his right. The Alpha’s den. Stiles has never been inside it. He even doubts if Isaac has set foot in the room very often, besides for cleaning purposes.
Stiles never really intended to go into Derek’s room, because despite what the others seem to think, he actually values his life. And his dignity. He thought it better to take a chance with the girls, take on the risk of Jackson wanting to kill him the next morning when he discovered Stiles had slept in the same bed as his girlfriend.
But…
The door to Derek’s bedroom is cracked.
Stiles can see inside. 
He can’t see that much, with it being the middle of the night and the only light coming from a gap between the curtains in front of Derek’s window. But the moonlight is just right, illuminating the sleeping form of the Alpha in the bed. A bed that is more than large enough for two people and Derek is neatly sleeping on one side of the bed. If Stiles is quiet enough he might even be able to slip into the bed without waking Derek. The werewolf got hurt pretty badly today and healing always takes a lot out of him. There’s a pretty good chance the guy is sleeping like a log.
Stiles takes a deep breath. He’s gonna risk it.
***
He didn’t think he’d actually do it, but after a few minutes of indecisiveness on the landing, Stiles quietly tiptoes into Derek’s bedroom. He rounds the bed to the unoccupied side of the mattress and gingerly lifts the tip of the blanket.
“You’re not getting in with your jeans on,” Derek says, without opening his eyes.
Stiles yelps and he’s already stammering halfway through an apology when he suddenly shuts his mouth. His back teeth actually click together. There’s a few seconds of silence and then: “You’d let me into your bed?”
“Not with your jeans on,” Derek repeats. Usually he wouldn’t do this, but he’s been listening to Stiles toss and turn downstairs for a while now and with all of his pack members sleeping peacefully, he’d like the last one to get some rest too. Besides, Stiles would continue to keep him up with his restless behaviour otherwise; Derek just can’t seem to tune him out. It’s been that way for years already, maybe even from the beginning.
“O-kay.” He can feel Stiles staring at him in the dark and he patiently waits for the decision he knows the boy is gonna make. No, not a boy. Stiles will be 21 this Spring. Derek has seen him grow up, literally and figuratively, along with the rest of his ragtag pack of teenagers. Stiles still wears jeans and plaid most of the time, but the garments don’t hang as loose on him as they did when he was 16. He’s grown into a handsome young man, with a good head on his broad shoulders. Derek counts himself lucky to have Stiles as part of his pack, to have him close. Not as close as he sometimes might wish, yet Derek is always conscious of not playing favourites. So he usually keeps Stiles at an arm length and takes care to treat him just like everyone else. It helps that the two of them elevated snark and banter to an effective communication style. Despite all the sarcasm and barbs, Derek is pretty sure there is no-one in his pack who sees through him like Stiles does. It was scary at first and it made him lash out, but Stiles stood firm. Derek is immensely grateful that he did.
There’s the rustling of clothing hitting the floor, jeans and a shirt, then the blanket lifts and Stiles scoots underneath. Derek feels him settle in behind his back, a foot or so away. “Thanks,” Stiles whispers in the dark.
“Go to sleep,” Derek grunts, eager to go to sleep and not think about the young man who is sharing his bed.
***
Derek’s bed is pretty comfortable, Stiles thinks to himself as he digs himself in. Oh, who is he kidding?! Derek’s bed is amazing. The mattress is just the right combination of firm and soft, the pillow hugs his head and shoulders just right and the comforter is warm but still light to the touch. It’s a million times better than his bed at home, even when he’s not counting the fact that he’s sharing the bed with a hot werewolf.
Yet Stiles can’t sleep. 
Yes, the pillow is heavenly. Yes, the mattress allows his tired body to finally relax. Yes, the comforter hugs him nicely. But there’s something missing and Stiles knows exactly what it is. His pillow.
He needs to hold something. He needs to be able to curl around something. Or someone, his traitorous brain suggests as he feels Derek move across from him.
“Why aren’t you asleep, Stiles?” Derek asks in that long-suffering tone he uses when Stiles is doing something to annoy him. Which is pretty often, although Stiles knows the annoyance is mostly for show these days. He has turned onto his back, his eyes glinting in the moonlight where they are looking over at Stiles.
“Can’t,” Stiles laments, trying to catch the comforter between his arms in lieu of his dearly missed pillow. It doesn’t really work, because the comforter also has to cover Derek’s bulk and there’s little left to use. Little to none, especially when Derek snatches the comforter back from where it was probably leaving a cold gap on Derek’s other side. The sudden move has Stiles sort of falling over from where he was laying on his side. He’s more on his front now, filling up the space that was between them at first. He can feel the warmth of Derek’s body from just a few inches away. It’s actually kind of comforting.
“Try harder,” Derek commands and he closes his eyes again.
Stiles thinks of answering ‘Yes, Alpha’, but thinks better of it. It might make Derek move again, to push Stiles out of bed instead of pulling him in to have a cuddle. So he stays quiet and closes his eyes, focussing his mind on the almost tangible presence of Derek’s bare shoulder mere inches away. Derek is warm and smells nice and if Stiles was a werewolf, he’s sure he’d feel even better about having his Alpha so close. Yet even though he’s not a werewolf, he still enjoys it. A lot.
He falls asleep.
He knows that, because he wakes up at some point, at an unknown hour of the night. He’s warm, so warm. And comfortable, even though his pillow is a lot firmer than he remembers it being. It also moves a little, because his pillow is Derek and the Alpha werewolf gently moves his arm in what Stiles suspects is a more comfortable position. He would panic about sleeping half on top of Derek if he were not so damn comfortable. It’s hard to keep his eyes open. Surely if Derek wouldn’t want him sleeping on him, he’d push Stiles off. Instead, Stiles feels Derek’s arm wrap around his back, accompanied by a soft sigh from the Alpha.
Stiles sleeps.
***
Derek is not the first to wake up, although he is certainly not the last. He becomes aware of the world with Stiles wrapped around his torso, his head pillowed on Derek’s chest. He’s only a little surprised by how good it feels to wake up like this and it takes a while before he brings himself to carefully move out of Stiles’ embrace. The boy mumbles a little, but doesn’t wake up. Derek watches him for a moment, standing beside his bed. He’s not sure how to feel about this, except for some embarrassment about wanting to crawl back into bed and slot himself back into Stiles’ arms.
Downstairs, most of the pack is still asleep. Isaac has his arms wrapped around Jackson’s lower legs, as if he’s cuddling a particularly bony teddy bear. Jackson is still asleep, even snoring softly. Scott snores too, curled around his girlfriend in the large armchair. In the other armchair, Boyd is watching him carefully, his arms wrapped around his sleeping girlfriend. 
“Morning,” the dark man rumbles quietly, not to wake Erica.
“Morning,” Derek answers, keeping his voice down as well. “Coffee?”
Boyd inclines his head in thanks and Derek ambles on to the kitchen, where he finds Lydia, immersed in a science journal. She has a cappuccino sitting in front of her, the cup half empty. “Good morning, Derek,” she says, briefly glancing up from her reading material.
“Morning,” he repeats, busying himself with the coffee maker. He brings a cup to Boyd when he’s done and returns to join Lydia at the table. He sits back in his chair, his coffee in front of him, to catch the rays of pale sunlight that slant through the high windows. It’s quiet in the loft, with most of the people still sleeping and the ones that are awake quietly starting up their day.
He sips from his coffee, listening to the sounds of Cora waking up and going into the bathroom. She comes downstairs not long after, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt - same as her brother, her bare feet hardly making a sound. He points to the mostly full pot of coffee on the counter when she enters the kitchen and he gets a hair ruffle as thanks from his little sister. She pours herself a cup and leans against the counter, enjoying the sunlight on her face just like he is. 
It’s Stiles who comes down next, although Derek can hear from the way he drags his feet that he’s barely awake. Why he’s not sleeping in like he should be, is anyone’s guess. He expects Stiles to stop in the living room, to wake up Scott or maybe even Jackson if he’s feeling particularly cheeky, but he doesn’t. The footsteps pretty much make a beeline from the stairs towards the kitchen. Derek opens one eye from where he closed them against the sunrays to see Stiles shuffling towards him in his boxers and T-shirt, rubbing a hand over his face and yawning soundlessly. His hair is standing up on one side. He’s wearing socks, navy blue ones with a red line near the toes.
The werewolf opens his mouth to point his packmate towards the coffee maker, but before he can say anything, Stiles has reached his chair and slings a hairy leg over his lap. He plonks down unceremoniously and lays his head on Derek’s shoulder, arms wrapping loosely around his waist. 
“You were gone,” Stiles mumbles disapprovingly, his mouth moving against Derek’s collarbone. And just like that his heartbeat evens out and he’s fast asleep again.
Derek sits frozen in his chair, his heart beating loudly inside his ribcage. If Stiles were awake he could probably feel it pound against his own chest. His hands hover uselessly on either side, not knowing whether to wrap around Stiles or pick him up and toss him to the floor. 
Stiles is oblivious, his sleeping body moulding easily against Derek’s. He’s warm and pliant, just like he was when they were sleeping together in Derek’s bed. 
When he chances a look at Lydia across the table, she’s already watching him steadily with a sly smile playing around the corners of her lips. “Glad to see you two finally got your heads out of your asses,” she comments eventually, before primly taking a sip from her cappuccino and going back to her reading.
Behind him, Cora snorts quietly in amusement. She comes up at his back and puts a hand in his hair again, running her fingers through the short strands. It’s grounding and Derek only notices how much he needs that when she lightly scratches her nails across his scalp. 
“He’s cute like this,” his sister remarks and even though he can hear the humour in her voice, he can also hear the truth in her heartbeat. “Best not wake him up, big bro.” She runs her hand through his hair one last time and then she wanders off, leaving him to carefully wrap one arm around Stiles’ lower back.
Slowly, Derek feels himself relax. The loft is quiet and peaceful and Derek is in his own little bubble, with the sunlight on his face and Stiles in his lap. Almost automatically, he starts to rub his hand slowly up and down Stiles’ back. Aside from some sleepy snuffling, there’s no real response. Derek picks his coffee back up and slowly drinks it, tilting his face towards the sun. It’s a nice morning.
572 notes · View notes
myillicitaffair · 3 months
Text
One of your girls part two | Carlos Sainz Jr
Tumblr media
Summary: after a fateful outcome, Carlos wants to fix what he unintentionally broke.
Warnings: english not being my mother tongue, angst, alcohol consumption, dirty dancing, small description of throwing up, cheating, mentions of sex, messed up dynamics, slight swearing.
Notes: second part of this fic. i also wanted to say i’m currently taking request, to anyone who might be interested xx.
Credits: the gif used belongs to @neymarhamilton ‘s tumblr account, so all credits belong to them. this part, just like the one before, is inspired by the song “one of your girls” by Troye Sivan.
1.8k
SIX MONTHS AGO:
A chilly night welcomes my friend group as we make our way through a prestigious and crowded restaurant situated in the heart of Madrid.
Being born and raised in Spain´s capital city, the girls now walking into the facilities have been by my side my whole life; faith brought us together our first day of school, just three frightened little kids trying to survive elementary.
I like to believe that we complement each other, even if we hadn´t met all those years ago, life would have found a way to connect us.
A girl’s night out is a rare occurrence between us; always being on the shy side, we very much prefer staying in, drowning ourselves in sweet treats while marathoning our comfort romcoms.
The reason why we´re summoned tonight is quite simple… my very first broken heart.
You see, in an attempt to lighten the mood, my friends brought us to an extremely exclusive eatery, one where we clearly didn´t fit in. The difference was quite notorious, surrounded by leggy models and their handsome companions, I quite frankly begin to wonder why I ever agreed.
With a deep breath, I straighten my back and let the hostess remove my coat. “In for a penny, in for a pound” I think with a resigned shrug of the shoulders.
As we´re carried to our spot, I try and take the essence of the place in. I start noticing its eccentric décor, dim lights brightening the burgundy walls, leather booths scattered all over the classy tile floor.
What makes an ordinary dinner such a big success? Its bizarre modality.
Our table is filled with strangers, completely engulfed in their different conversations. The main reason for my friends to take us to this unconventional location was exactly this; the inexorable need to engage in conversations with foreign people.
The first round of dirty martinis arrives as the last costumers take their places next to me, with a lousy cheer I pour the drink down my throat, feeling its pleasant burning down my body, warming me up, making me forget.
“Easy there tiger”- the man sited by my side chuckles, gesturing towards my empty glass.
I take a moment to wander across his features. Thick eyebrows, big brown eyes, plump lips. Definitely attractive, exactly what I need.
A smile creeps up my face, the wires in my brain getting to work.
I notice an elegantly worn designer shirt hugging his chest, his forearms resting against the wooden surface, his attentive stare trying to read my thoughts.
“And you are?”- I condescendingly tease him.
“Carlos”- his hand travels to mine, embracing me with his warm- “Carlos Sainz.”
The subtle body hair covering his fist tickling my naked skin, igniting a fire deep inside me.
And in that moment, I simply knew there was no getting out, not anybody else as long as he kept staring at me like this, eating me raw with his gaze.
That was the first night I ever came back home with him.
————
FOUR MONTHS AGO:
Carlos is away for the weekend, oceans separating us, palpable distance every time he races through my mind.
I try convincing myself It’s the sex I miss, the obvious physical attraction, the invisible force that pulls us towards the other, the feeling of his warm skin being impossibly closer to mine.
Truth being told, I’m sitting immovable on my bed, nervously waiting for a call.
I can’t help but recall his soft locks intertwined with my fingers, his tongue inching towards my neck, how he never fails to make my blood boil with a simple grin.
My phone brings me out of my daydreams, screaming for attention as a call enters it. His name glistening on the screen, filling me with pure bliss and forcing me to hold my giggles.
Acting like a schoolgirl with a crush while being a full-grown adult… how pathetic!
Two rings go by before i pick up, bitting my bottom lip to keep my voice calm as if I wasn’t desperately clinging to it seconds ago.
“Gorgeous, you got a minute to spare?”- he asks, clear amusement in his tone, abusing the charm he knows he has.
“That depends, Carlos, who’s asking?”
I’m gobsmacked at how composed I sound, nowhere near how I actually feel.
My knuckles turn white from grasping my sheets.
“Don’t be like that, princess, I know you miss me”- his smile visible through his speech.
My heart skips a beat, can his words be revealing my true feelings?
“Oh honey, keep lying to yourself if it helps you sleep at night…”
I’m met with his scandalous laugh filling the line, raising my pulse until it’s beating on my ears.
Everything stops, everything keeps going.
I close my eyes in acknowledgement, being forced to admit what i’ve been denying ever since I met him.
Oh, how screwed I am!
———
TWO MONTHS AGO:
The music rumbles at the disco, throbbing on my skin with its intensity.
Being dragged to a hip party, my friends and I are bundled up in the comfort of our own group, dancing between ourselves.
As I rock my body to meet the pulsating rhythm, I embrace Carlos’s presence behind me, tightly grabbing my waggling hips.
He presses himself into me and I rub against his growing erection, purposely torturing him. His kisses start straying while sucking visible red marks into my neck.
His penetrating cologne invades my nostrils, clinging into my bare skin like a golden tattoo.
The mix of the alcohol I insisted on chugging and his hands shaping my whole body becoming intoxicating.
A foreign touch on my shoulder makes me open my eyes, leaving me to face my friend staring at me like i’ve grown a second head.
“You’re coming with me”- she pronounces as she drags me away from Carlos, who snorts in disbelief.
“What? Why?”- I ask as i’m forced to take a seat at the bar.
“Have you gone mad? You two were literally dry humping each other in the middle of the crowd!”- She hisses worriedly, forcing me to drink the water bottle she bought for me.
As she sits next to me, I prepare myself for the lecture she’s about to impart me, letting my eyes wonder across the dance floor.
I catch a glimpse of Carlos standing against a wall, hemmed by complete darkness, sometimes interrupted by one of the dj's lights.
When the spotlight lands on him, I start noticing the delicate hands hugging his broad shoulders, the almost nonexistent distance between him and the blonde caressing his cheeks.
Bile climbs up my throat, threatening to be ejected thanks to the scene before me.
Her lips all over his neck, staining the collar of his white shirt with lipstick.
Realizing i’m not paying an iota of attention to her, my friends follows my gaze stumbling across the sequence.
Effortlessly, she yanks me away from the enclosed space and into the garden.
Without being able to stop myself, I empty the contents of my stomach into the ground, constantly replaying the flashbacks of their sensual dance.
“Everything’s okay now, love”- My friend states while caressing my tangled up hair. Her fingertips come into contact with my cheeks, brushing my tears away.
Sobs are quick to scape my lungs, becoming more and more erratic as I imagine the second by second unfolding inside the disco.
———
PRESENT:
After running away from Carlos’s house, in the middle of a Madrilenian night, I’m fast to hide into the loneliness of my apartment.
I can’t even find comfort in blaming him as I was the one to agree with our “no exclusivity policy”, believing I could make it work.
How stupid of me to think I would be capable of not being trapped into his nets.
Clearly the only solution I can possibly come up with is crying it out, and that’s how I found myself in this situation; puffy eyes, completely ruined mascara, quivering eyes from shedding way too many tears.
Could I have been more stupid? I can’t even resonate one good reason why I would ever accept what he’s willing to offer me while wanting him in his entirety.
My determination is easily devastated as desperate fists bang against my door.
“Please, open up”- A too familiar voice implores from outside the apartment.
“I don’t ever wanna see you again”- I manage to scream through whimpers.
“I beg of you, please let me in! I swear I can explain.”
Standing right on the other side of the door, I feel my hand toying with the doorknob, trying to determinate whether or not to listen to his pleas.
“There’s nothing to explain, Carlos!”- I say, above a whisper, my voice to fragile for anything else.
“There’s been a while since i’ve been with anyone else, alright? Not since all I could think about was you!”
An unbreakable silence fills the hallways of the building, only the sound of his pantings and heavy breathing interrupting the stillness.
Without much hesitation, I open the hinges separating us.
Clearly, I was nowhere near prepared for the view before me; his full brown eyes now shimmering with unshed orbs, accumulated in his tear ducts.
“How about the girl from the voicemail?”- I ask, almost scared to find out this is all a product of my imagination.
“I know what that seemed like, but I promise you it’s not what you think!”- he says, piercing me with his gaze- “That was my ex girlfriend. She has a hard time letting go of me, even though there’s been more than a year since we’ve last been together. I never answer her calls and that’s why she’s getting more and more desesperate.”
Everything around me stops just to listen to his next words, my heart betting so out of control he might even hear it.
“Back at my apartment you told me you were enamored by me, well, there’s no use in trying to deny i’m in love with you”- he whispers, just loud enough for me to hear- “so much it’s physically painful, it’s all I can think about.”
My brain turned into mush as his confession sinks in. I almost want to laugh at how ridiculous the idea seems to me; the man I love, probably the only one i’ll ever love, stating that my feelings are reciprocate.
A sigh leaves my parted lips as a quiet tear runs down my face.
“I know i’ve made my mistakes and believe me when I say i’ll regret them every minute i’m on this earth, but I promise you, that if you give me the chance, i’ll make it up to you until my dying breath”- his voice sounds shaky, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of him.
I don’t think I ever reacted as fast as now, jumping into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso. Little giggles leave both of our mouths at the ridiculous situation.
“I love you”- He murmurs, muffled by the kisses he’s pressing against my checks.
“I love you too”- I answer back, with our bodies still entwined.
189 notes · View notes
f1letters · 1 year
Text
bigger than the whole sky | ms47
"i'm never gonna meet what could've been, would've been what should've been you"
summary: guilt consumed her alive when she lost the baby she initially didn't plan on having... maybe the outcome could've been better if she did something different, she thought
warning: very heavy and very sad story, angst, heartbreak, swearing, mentions of a panic attack, grief, death, mention of unplanned pregnancy, miscarriage, brief mention of blood, loss of a child, mention of the hypothetical future that the baby would have had, happy-ish ending
pairing: mick schumacher x reader
word count: 2.9k
note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past. I would also like to point out that this one has to be the hardest story I have written so far as it is very personal to me. I've thought a lot about NOT posting it over the past few days, exactly because of these heavy topics. but I think this needs to be spoken about a lot more than it is, especially with how many women/people with reproductive systems suffer from miscarriages in silence. please read the warnings before reading!
german words used: liebling = darling; schatz = sweetheart; mama = mom
on a less sad note, I think everybody knows how much I love mick, I hope we still get to see him next year (please papa toto, rescue my man!!!)and that he gets another chance in the 2024 grid. with this being said, I hope you enjoy this one and have your tissues with you!
masterlist
Tumblr media
No words appear before me in the aftermath
Salt streams out my eyes and into my ears
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
Many say that grief is the price of love.
That grief is just a form of love; a love that can't be given anymore to someone we could hug and kiss and see before they were gone.
That grief is the result of a space that is left empty in our lives after someone physically loses strength and lets their soul rest.
But as much as we are prepared from childhood to grieve for someone we had time to love, nothing prepares us for the heart-wrenching experience of losing someone we didn't even have a chance to know and cherish.
Such suffering, pain and anguish seemed impossible to fit in Y/N's small and fragile heart, as she tried to accept the aftermath of the loss of her baby.
She stood there, stuck in time, just thinking of everything she could have done differently. Searching for an explanation for why life had played such a cruel trick on her. Wondering why. 
Why me? Why with us? Why them?
As the young woman lay on her back in the middle of her big white bed in search of answers, the only sound that echoed between those four walls was her painful sobs as salt streamed out of her eyes and into her ears.
That same sound was her only company, as her boyfriend was nowhere to be seen.
She couldn't blame him though. She knew that his absence in the room they shared was due to her own cold and distant attitude towards him over these last few days.
But she just couldn't face him.
Looking into his eyes would only make her realize that they mirrored the exact same pain in hers.
And as selfish as it sounded, she wasn't ready to face his loss when she could barely accept her own.
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
You were bigger than the whole sky
You were more than just a short time
And I've got a lot to pine about
I've got a lot to live without
She didn't want to see him or talk to him. Even during the night, Y/N found herself escaping to the uncomfortable couch in the living room to avoid sleeping next to Mick, almost as if she was too afraid to touch him and thereby infect him with her sadness.
Everything for her suddenly changed, and she couldn't wrap her head around how a being so fragile and so precious that never even had a chance to live could be the only meaningful thing in her life at that moment.
'Pregnant 1-2'
Leaning against the cold tiles of her bathroom, sitting on the marble floor, the young woman tried to calm her uncontrolled and panting breathing.
It couldn't be. This couldn't be happening to her.
Her eyes read over and over again the small letters on the digital display of the pregnancy test in her hands. Almost as if she expected that at any moment they would change and that she would wake up from the nightmare she saw herself in.
Her head was all over the place. She couldn't have a child now. She was in her early 20s, she had only been with her boyfriend for a little over a year, and he was just starting his second year in Formula 1.
Not that she doubted her love for Mick or his for her. If there was one certainty she had in the world, it was that he was the love of her life, even if their relationship was fairly recent.
But they never even spoke about having children in the long run, let alone already. She hardly saw him herself most of the year. How would she be able to take care of a baby in those conditions?
The pressure was building in her lungs and her vision was beginning to blur as the girl panicked more and more, until she was awakened by the sound of someone knocking on the bathroom door.
"Schatz, are you okay? You've been there for over thirty minutes." She heard the driver's concerned voice on the other side of the door. "I'm getting worried, can I come in?"
From inside the bathroom, Mick got no response and only heard the cries of his partner who had finally given in. Without thinking twice, he opened the door and went down to her level, kneeling on the floor in front of the girl.
"Liebling, what's wrong? Talk to me." He brought both his hands up to the sides of her jaw, leaving soft caresses with his thumbs until her gaze met his.
"I'm sorry, Mick. I'm so fucking sorry." Y/N replied, shaking her head in denial while crying uncontrollably.
The boy was only more confused by his girlfriend's apologies, but when he looked down at her lap and saw the blue stick, he immediately realized what was happening and his arms dropped to his sides in shock.
"Fuck. Y- You- Are you pregnant?" He asked, shaking with nerves. He leaned against the wall on her side as well, letting his head relax against the tiles. 
His hand went to Y/N's thigh in an attempt to comfort her and after a few minutes to assimilate everything that was happening, he spoke again. "Okay. Okay. We're going to be fine. Don't worry, we'll handle this together. I have more than enough money to support the three of us and-"
"Mick, stop." The young woman replied, with some aggression in her tone. "I can't have a baby right now. This is insane."
Remembering that day now brought only heartache and pain, because it was all over now, all out to sea.
I'm never gonna meet
What could've been, would've been
What should've been you
What could've been, would've been you
"Y/N, I know you're nervous. I am too, but I know that together we can do this." Mick confessed, grabbing both of the girl's hands and looking at her with the most loving gaze she had ever seen on anyone.
"I barely know your family, you don't even know my parents." She continued with her rambling. "I spend 99 per cent of the year alone in this house while you are God knows where around the world."
"I'll quit." Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the boy's suggestion. "You are worth more than any sport and any dream. You are my dream, both of you are. I want nothing more than to grow old with you and have a family together, so I'll quit in a heartbeat if I have to."
"I would never let you give up on your dreams, Schumacher, and you know it." Y/N felt her body relax for the first time in hours, letting her back lay against her boyfriend's chest, his hands resting on her stomach. "Are we completely crazy for even considering this?"
And for a short time, they were indeed crazy. Crazy for each other and for the future they envisioned for the three of them.
Even without seeing them or touching them, their baby filled their hearts so intensely, with a love they never knew before, that they grew in size with that insane amount of adoration.
Only to be broken into bigger pieces.
Did some bird flap its wings over in Asia?
Did some force take you bеcause I didn't pray?
Every single thing to come has turned into ashes
'Cause it's all over, it's not meant to be
So I'll say words I don't believe
For a few more weeks, the couple lived inside their dream bubble, filled with so much happiness and excitement for their future. Although no one else knew about Y/N's pregnancy yet, everyone noticed how much they glowed, more in love than ever.
Until Mick had to come back to the real world and had to travel to the United States for a race, leaving his girlfriend alone again in their home in Switzerland.
The young woman couldn't explain why she felt so apprehensive and so scared at the idea of being alone. It was not the first time this happened, but inexplicably her sixth sense was already on high alert as she held the German much longer than usual at the airport, as if she was too afraid to let him go.
Two completely normal days passed after the driver left: he called her every day when he woke up, at lunchtime, and when he went to sleep, in an attempt to make her feel less lonely.
But on the third day, she didn't answer him.
He didn't think anything special of it, thinking she was probably busy with something at work, so he went about his morning as if nothing had happened. Hours went by as he was dealing with his media duties, until, on his lunch break, he picked up his phone again and his world seemed to come crashing down in a single instant.
'15 missed calls from Schatz'
'9 missed calls from Gina'
'7 missed calls from Mama'
Alone at home and with no family living in Switzerland, Y/N found herself in complete despair when she saw blood running down her legs. She knew right away what it was, even though her brain begged for another possible reason.
The girl silently prayed for the better as she searched through the kitchen drawers for the paper where she knew her boyfriend's mother, Corinna's number was written.
Y/N simply couldn't face this all by herself.
Although they only met a couple of times before that day, the young woman couldn't be more grateful to have had the Schumacher family's matriarch by her side, to hold her hand and to wipe her tears away as the doctors told her the worst news she would ever hear in her entire life.
"I'm sorry miss, but I'm afraid your baby no longer has a heartbeat."
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
You were bigger than the whole sky
You were more than just a short time
And I've got a lot to pine about
I've got a lot to live without
Those words just turned every single thing to come into ashes.
And she couldn't help but feel guilty.
Maybe she had done something she shouldn't have done. Eaten something she couldn't. Made physical efforts that she could not.
Maybe she should have prayed for the baby. She should have accepted the pregnancy sooner. She shouldn't have doubted their ability to have that child.
She was looking for something: an answer, an explanation, a reason.
And although her head knew it wasn't logical, she blamed him too.
Maybe if Mick were here. If he hadn't travelled to the other end of the world. If only he hadn't left her in that house without help and company.
She needed him more than ever, but at the same time, all the distance between them didn't seem enough for Y/N.
The wooden door to their room opened unexpectedly, making the girl turn her back to Mick to prevent him from seeing her tears.
He slowly approached her figure and she felt the mattress lower next to her as he sat up and placed his hand on her bare shoulder.
"Please, I beg you. Talk to me." Y/N heard his voice shake, and it became clear that he was crying too. "I can't take this silence anymore. I'm suffering too, you know?"
She knew she was being unfair to him. After all, he too had lost his child, his future, a part of him, even if he wasn't the one to physically carry it.
She was a childless mother, but he too was a childless father.
I'm never gonna meet
What could've been, would've been
What should've been you
The truth is, she didn't believe the words she was saying in her head.
Mick was the most supportive person she knew. He made a point of asking her over and over again if she was okay, if she needed anything, if she wanted to talk.
But it wasn't until she was forced to face her partner's sadness that she realized that blaming him wasn't going to mend the hole in her heart.
He was the only one who could ease her pain if she let him in.
The girl turned to the boy, finding his back trembling with the sobs he let out. She hugged him from behind, feeling his body relax against hers with the physical contact he desired so much. 
Mick lay down next to her on the bed, pulling her as close to him as possible, and they stayed there for hours, in comfortable silence, while they both mourned their loss in each other's arms.
"I'm so sorry, baby." Y/N broke the silence. "I was trying so hard to find a reason for all of this that I ended up blaming myself, blaming you. It was unfair, and I'm so fucking sorry. I shouldn't have ever done that."
"It wasn't anyone's fault, liebling." Mick whispered with his lips brushing against her forehead. "It just wasn't meant to be."
Y/N looked up at the driver, meeting his sad gaze, and the two let the tips of their noses touch.
The two lovers' lips met again after days apart and, even if only for a moment, they both felt whole again.
What could've been, would've been you
What could've been, would've been
What should've been you
What could've been, would've been you
Nothing hurts like an unexpected goodbye, but they both knew they would carry their baby forever in their hearts, even if they hadn't been able to carry them in their arms.
They were never going to be able to see the baby say their first words and take their first steps.
They were never going to have the opportunity to see their child go to school for the first time, or attend their graduation.
They were never going to be able to comfort them when they had their first heartbreak, or tease them when they had their first crush.
But even though they knew their baby was more than just a short time, they knew the mark they left on them was permanent.
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
You were bigger than the whole sky
You were more than just a short time
And I've got a lot to pine about
I've got a lot to live without
Two years later, the couple couldn't be in a better place, even though their loss would never fully heal.
Y/N had just won a promotion at work, allowing her to reach the position she always dreamed of holding at the company she worked for.
Mick had returned to the Formula 1 grid after two troubled years in his career and now wore the four Audi rings on his polo shirt with the greatest of pride, alongside his longtime friend and returning champion, Sebastian.
But most of all, the incomprehensible sounds that came out of their rainbow baby's mouth were what made them the happiest they have ever been.
Their newborn baby girl filled their hearts with renewed hope and unlimited love, bringing back colour in a world that was previously only black and white.
I'm never gonna meet
What could've been, would've been
What should've been you
Tumblr media
taglist: @dan3avacado @starxqt @roseinnej @spiidergirlsworld @ccloaned @hotpigeon22 @dr3lover @lovelytsunoda @primadonnasdream @luxebeautystyle @wallfloweriism @ilivefortheleague @gwynethhberdara @satellitelh @adavenus @audreyscodes @wifeoflucyboynton @th6ccnsp6cyy @classifiedsblog @flyingmushroomss @motylekrozi @claramllera @gabrielamaex @handsupforamiracle @pierre-gasssllyy @lorenaloveslewis
@idkiwantchocolatee @simpforsunwoo @kissatelier @xweirdxsceletton @micksmidnights @miniminescapist @inchidentwithmax @hopelesslyromantics-world @alwaysclassyeagle @indieclarke @capela-miranda @okokoksblog @pulpfixion @sins-only33 @sainzclerc @allisonxf1 @honethatty12 @amsofftrack @flannel-cures @junkiespromise @loudoperahumanoidpanda @honeyric3 @holy-macncheese-balls @ricciardosheart @pierreverstapkin
@ravenqueen27 @majkaftorek @home-of-disaster @buendiabebeta @itgirlofnowhere @roses-of-eden @thewintersunset @rubychocolatechips
(taglist continues in the comments)
thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌
711 notes · View notes
massivedrickhead · 6 months
Note
I hope i’m not late but i’m a sucker for protective Beca / only being a softie when it comes to Chloe, and this prompt seems like a perfect fit : “Are you afraid to fall asleep because you think you’re gonna have a nightmare?” so can I put the request in? 🥹 thanks in advance either way love your work
I'm honestly having so much fun with these prompts. I can't remember the last time I wrote and posted this consistently.
So thank you for sending this, and to everyone who's sent them so far!
16. “Are you afraid to fall asleep because you think you’re gonna have a nightmare?”
Prompt taken from here
Read on AO3
-
“Are you afraid to fall asleep because you think you’re gonna have a nightmare?”
Chloe rubbed her eyes and shrugged, avoiding looking at Beca. 
“Because it’s okay if that’s what it is,” Beca said. “You don’t have to be, like, embarrassed or anything.”
Chloe let out a soft laugh of disbelief. “Who still gets nightmares in their 20s?” Chloe asked, still not meeting Beca’s eyes. “What am I, six?”
Beca frowned. “Lots of people still get nightmares. I don’t think it’s got anything to do with age.”
“It’s stupid,” Chloe said, wiping away the tears that kept filling her eyes. She felt frustrated. Embarrassed. And tired.
So tired. 
“It isn’t stupid,” Beca said. Chloe rolled her eyes in response. 
“It isn’t smart.”
“If our roles were swapped would you be calling me stupid?” Beca asked. “Would you say I was embarrassing?”
“Of course not,” Chloe said.
“So don’t say it about yourself,” Beca said. 
Chloe shrugged again. “It’s how I feel,” she said. “I should know better than to be this freaked out over something that isn’t even real.”
“Sometimes fear is like that,” Beca said. “Take me and spiders. I know they aren’t going to hurt me, but I’m still terrified.”
The ghost of a smile appeared on Chloe’s face, and Beca took that as a small victory.
“You need to sleep, Chlo’,” Beca said. “You can’t keep going like this. Tell me how to help. What do you need?”
“I need to not be afraid,” Chloe said. “I don’t know how you fix that.”
Beca sighed and looked around the room, as if a solution to their problem might suddenly jump out.
“You’ve had them every night this week?” Beca asked.
Chloe nodded. “Always the same thing. I’m being chased through the house but I can’t run away fast enough. He’s always just right behind me. No matter where I hide, he finds me. And just before he kills me, I wake up.” Chloe shuddered just at the memory of it. She’d had it every night this week, and every time she’d woken up in the early hours of the morning and been completely unable to go back to sleep. She was running on three or four hours of sleep a night, and it was starting to take its toll. 
“What’s your usual bedtime routine?” Beca asked. “Do you, like, listen to music or anything, or are you one of those weirdos who goes to sleep in absolute silence?”
Chloe laughed. “Silence,” she said. “I put on my pyjamas, brush my teeth, read for a little while, and then I fall asleep. Only lately I’ve been pushing my bedtime later and later, reading for longer, until I literally can’t keep my eyes open. Then I fall asleep, have the nightmare, wake up, and just stay awake.”
Beca thought for a minute. “What if we switched up your routine?”
“In what way?” Chloe asked.
Beca checked her phone. It was pushing 10 pm now, which was a little earlier than either of them normally went to bed. “Get yourself sorted for bed and come up to my room. Amy is out with Bumper tonight.”
“Okay,” Chloe said, willing to try anything at this point. 
About 10 minutes later, Chloe was knocking on Beca’s bedroom door.
“Come in,” Beca said. 
Chloe entered and found Beca sitting on her bed, also in her pyjamas, typing on her laptop.
“You’ve got a choice,” Beca said. “You can either get in with me or take Amy’s bed.”
Chloe raised an eyebrow and approached Beca’s bed. “Like you even have to ask.”
Beca smiled. “I don’t like to assume,” she said. “Okay, have you got like a TV show or movie that you’ve seen so many times you could probably say it word for word?”
Chloe thought. “Probably Friends,” she said.
“Any particular episode?”
Chloe shook her head. “Dealer’s choice,” she said.
Beca pulled up Netflix on her laptop and picked a random episode.
She shuffled over slightly so Chloe could get into the bed and get comfy.
“What are we doing?” Chloe asked once she was settled. 
Beca turned off the lamp on her nightstand and rested the laptop on her legs so Chloe could see the screen.
“We’re just watching Friends,” Beca said. She hit play and the episode started. “Can you hear it okay?”
“Yeah,” Chloe said. “It’s a little quiet.”
“But you can still hear it?”
“Yeah, I can hear it.”
The familiarness of the show began to wash over Chloe as she settled further into the bed. She let her head rest on Beca’s shoulder.
They carried on watching the show and Chloe felt her eyes beginning to close. She cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter, trying to blink away the tiredness.
“Okay?” Beca asked.
“Yeah.”
“Comfy enough?”
“Yeah,” Chloe said again, stifling a yawn. 
“Hey,” Beca said. “It isn’t bedtime yet, you can’t fall asleep.”
Chloe let out a snort of laughter, her head resting on Beca’s shoulder again.
“I feel like I’m being tricked,” she said. “Like that bit in Mary Poppins when she tells the kids they aren’t allowed to go to sleep.”
“No trick here,” Beca said. “We’re just watching Friends.”
“Uh-huh.”
They carried on watching in silence, one episode blending into the next, until Chloe was fighting to keep her eyes open.
“It’s okay,” Beca said, her voice softer than Chloe had ever heard it. “You can close your eyes. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
Chloe made a grumbling noise of disagreement and forced them open again. 
“You don’t have to sleep,” Beca said. “Just close your eyes and listen to the show.”
Chloe didn’t want to, but she didn’t have much of a choice. 
As she finally let them close, she felt Beca move beneath her, and Beca’s shoulder was replaced by a pillow.
It felt impossibly comfortable. 
Friends was still playing, so Chloe kept listening until it all started drifting away.
And then she was back in the empty Bellas house. Back in the darkness. Back to running away from this figure chasing her.
Only this time, she wasn’t alone. 
This time, Beca was waiting for her at the front door. Urging her forward, a hand outstretched, reaching for her.
Her hand closed around Beca’s and Beca tugged her, and they both started running.
Out of the house and away from the man.
Away from the nightmare.
She woke with a start still, but her chest wasn’t filled with panic like it usually was.
“Hey,” came Beca’s slightly raspy voice from beside her. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
Chloe saw the laptop was still open on Beca’s lap, the light of the screen illuminating her tired face. It looked like she was working on a mix.
“You’re okay,” Beca said again. “I’m here.”
Chloe let out a shaky exhale as her shoulders relaxed. 
“I know you are,” she said, settling back down onto the bed and falling back to sleep almost immediately. 
50 notes · View notes
anim-ttrpgs · 4 months
Text
A.N.I.M. Adventure Art: The Seedtown Party
Meet the Seedtown Party. This is a cast of investigator PCs from one of the earliest test runs for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, back in late 2021. It didn’t even have any sort of combat system when this campaign started, that was written hastily somewhere in the middle of the campaign, somewhere around February 2022.
This campaign is maybe the longest we’ve ever done with Eureka, lasting 6 months with a session nearly every week, and it was amazing.
Four investigators find themselves one way or another in a small town in the mountains of Arkansas, coming together by chance due to shared interest in a series of seemingly related missing persons cases.
It pains me greatly that I cannot remember exactly what was said, but the way that this group of characters came together and agree to work with each other to locate these missing persons in the first session was the single most natural and organic way I’ve ever seen a TTRPG party form.
Tumblr media
Eunica, an actual professional private investigator from the big city, here on a personal mission, as one of the missing people is her own nephew.
Tumblr media
Joseph, an extremely friendly local bartender who has been manning his brother’s establishment since his brother’s death more than ten years ago.
Tumblr media
Sarah, a moviestar who sought to disappear from the spotlight and run away to a quieter life, only to find that some of the missing persons posters feature *her* face, and did before she even arrived.
Tumblr media
And finally Alice (pronounced in the French way, sounds more like “Elise”), a cheerful and energetic young Cajun-French biker claiming to be a friend of one of the missing people. She was definitely the youngest of the party, appearing to be in her early twenties, with the next youngest investigator being Eunica in her late thirties. Alice had the rest of the party in love with her sweetness, energy, and optimistic attitude, as well as many weird but endearing quirks like how sarcasm and jokes always flew right over her head, her insistance that her food never have any spices whatsoever, and the fact she wore the same part of sunglasses day and night. In fact, they never actually even saw her sleep, she was always awake when they went to bed and always awake in the morning when they woke up. Alice was “the baby of the group”, and all of the older investigators went out of their way to protect her and curb her bold and reckless actions, despite her insistence that they didn’t need to.
Art by @theblackwarden
This art has been posted here with permission as part of A.N.I.M.’s Adventure Art initiative in our TTRPG book club.
All of these characters are PCs from Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy by A.N.I.M.
If you’d like to join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club, you can find the discord invite on our website.
If your art fits he parameters outlined on this post, and you’d like it featured here, tag us or post it in the book club’s Adventure Art channel on discord.
If you’d like to support us and get a prerelease copy of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, check out our Patreon! Our Kickstarter is planned for launch in April 2024!
This group of investigators followed what clues they could through local urban legends, organized crime, police corruption, and finally occult ritual among the state’s wealthy elite in a remote manor in the mountains, ending in a high-stakes shootout as the gang attempted to flee the premises after disrupting a plot that could’ve brought the world as we know it to its knees, and then a confrontation with the source of the aforementioned urban legends. For the most part, the investigators got out unscathed, except for Alice, who caught three bullets during the shootout, way more than enough to kill an investigator, or most any character, in Eureka. She also did most of the killing in this shootout.
Alice near flat-out refused medical attention, instead sneaking away as soon as the others’ backs were turned, leaving a farewell message at the bar before getting on her bike, and riding away. There was no way to track her or find out where she went, who she was, or if she was even still alive. They never even learned her last name.
Not only was this a test run of Eureka in general, but also the origin of its unique approach to supernatural characters, wherein not even other players sitting around the table know which members of the party are supernatural or not. With exceptions that I’ll get to in a moment, none of the IRL people playing this game except the Game Master knew that there would be any supernatural element to this mystery, let alone within the very investigative party itself. Nearly all of the players were relative strangers to each other before the group was brought together for session 0, not knowing each others’ interests or original characters, so there was little chance of guessing anything was amiss before the session even began.
Eunica shocked everyone about a two-thirds into the investigation, after the involvement of occult ritual started to become apparent, by revealing that she was no ordinary private detective, but really one of a more magical variety, capable of more than a little magic herself, and the person you’d go to if you needed someone to, say, hunt and slay a vampire. This took some time to process for everyone and Alice had what seemed like a hundred rapid-fire questions about the truth or the supernatural.
Alice, on the other hand, didn’t shock anyone, no one suspected a thing. No one, not PCs nor Players, ever guessed that sweet “Alice”, “the baby of the group”, was actually the oldest of them all, an 800-year-old vampire named Yvette Preux. The other players didn’t find this out until a month after the campaign ended. In between regular sessions, secret one-on-one sessions between GM and player were being run while the rest of the party slept, wherein “Alice” did some investigating, and other things like drinking blood, on her own during the night, the findings from which she would sprinkle in casually during discussions of the case the next morning, subtly enough that no one ever asked where she got this information or why she was so sure of it. On a few occasions she even did a lot more than investigating during these nights, like when a crime boss, who had told the investigators that he would have them disappeared if he saw them in town again, mysteriously turned up dead the next day, never seeing any of them again. What a lucky coincidence for everyone else.
Alice actually clocked Eunica as some kind of vampire hunter or the like right away, on the very first day they met, which didn’t really concern her at all. If so-called vampire hunters were any good at their “job”, she wouldn’t be around to laugh about it, would she?
Really, in hindsight, she could hardly have been more obviously a vampire—the sunglasses at all hours; avoidance of garlic, onions, and any other spices on food; hoe she never seemed to sleep; how she always seemed to have something in front of her mouth when she talked; her avoidance of mirrors; taking risks like she was invincible; and always running ahead every time the party was about to enter a private domicile so that she could directly ask to come inside. She even at one point when the party needed to disguise themselves as occultists, revealed that she just *already had* a fine hooded cloak with black on the outside and bright red on the inside in her luggage. That was all pretty weird, but it turns out, when nobody tells you to look for vampires, they actually become extremely hard to stop! This isn’t even a massive failing on Eunica’s part, if it weren’t near impossible to identify them, vampires wouldn’t be considered just a silly superstition in the modern age.
In truth, “Alice” reveled in just being herself right under a wannabe vampire-hunter’s nose, feigning shock when Eunica revealed this, and going out of her way to ask as many questions as she could about real vampires and what they’re like.
This is the ultimate Eureka experience, what starts as a mundane investigation spiraling into sprawling madness, and if what the people you thought you knew could reveal about themselves will shock you to your core, imagine what they keep to themselves. They might not even be playing by the same rules as you, it’s always who you least expect.
Tumblr media
25 notes · View notes
soulofapatrick · 1 year
Text
Sunshine on a Cloudy Day - Tommy Miller x Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: You’re the Millers neighbours who has become practically family within two years except Joel has kept your from Tommy in fear of him breaking your heart... What happens when Joel one day tells you Tommy really cares about you and he has no problems of you pursuing Tommy...
Words: 4.1k
Warnings: pining; smut (p in v) and lots of fluff
Notes: This is my first try at no outbreak au
Y/N’s POV
Being best friends with your hot neighbours had its perks as well as its downsides. I had a spare key which the outwardly grumpy Joel Miller had cut for me a year into our friendship, ignoring the way Sarah looked between the two of us with a knowing look. Except she really didn’t know. Sure, Joel Henry Miller is fucking hot with his curly brown hair; deep caramel brown eyes and the messy scruff of a beard but he’s not the Miller I found myself falling for. Joel saw it first, of course, and told me that his little brother - Tommy - is too much of a playboy for me and that he’d break my heart but that didn’t stop me thinking of him at night or giggling myself silly when he was around. 
Today was no different, my house was boring and empty so I grabbed my phone and the keys before heading across the street to the Miller’s house. It’s quiet stepping inside as Sarah’s at school and I’m guessing Joel and Tommy have a job today so I busy myself with cleaning up their mess. I’m off work until Monday, with nothing to do except twiddle my thumbs for the next two days so cleaning their house and cooking a hot meal for them is a great distraction and it’ll take my mind off my sister’s phone call. They’re not messy people, it’s just Joel struggles with getting up early but, he does it anyway to take his sweet daughter to school everyday before he and Tommy then drive on to wherever they’re working. If I’m at the coffee shop they’ll stop by for their usual coffees and tell me about their mornings if there’s no queue behind them. It’s nice. I love the routine we have. It could be seen as a little chaotic and weird to anyone else but it works for the four of us and I don’t want to lose it for anything. 
Joel’s room is the messiest of course, the duvet half off the bed and clothes on the floor as if he overslept today which being Joel… yeah probably. I sniff every shirt on the floor, organising them into clean and dirty piles before folding the clean ones and putting them back into the drawers and stripping the bed because he probably hasn’t had time to wash his duvet in a while. The dirty pile is thrown at the top of the stairs as I go do the same in Sarah’s room, her bed being made and it’s clean enough to leave alone so I just grab her hamper of dirty clothes, adding them to the pile. The guest room hasn’t been touched since I last slept in there so all that’s left is Tommy’s room. 
I knock first as he might be in there, you can never tell with Tommy, but there’s no reply so I cautiously open the door. It’s empty, he’s at work with Joel it seems and it gives me time to be able to clean his room, doing the same as I did with Joel’s but the smell of his shirts has me a little weak at the knees. I don’t know why but there’s just something about the way Tommy smells so much like vanilla; woodsmoke and fresh coffee that has me intoxicated. It takes me a minute to shake the thoughts of what he’d be like in bed, lips soft and persistent and the low husk to his voice. I have to quickly grab his dirty clothes and the stripped duvet cover, leaving the room before I do something stupid. 
The pile of all their dirty laundry is a struggle to get into the washing machine but I refuse to do two loads so I make it fit, putting the detergent in and turning it on before focusing on getting the kitchen tidy so I can get food prepared. They have a dishwasher that makes things a lot easier so I load it with the dirty plates and cups that are piled on the side before wiping down every surface and checking for any glasses or plates elsewhere like the living room before putting it on. Then, knowing how busy the three of them have been I check their fridge and yeah I was right: there’s left over pizza and like three day old takeaway chicken wings along with condiments and milk that is on its last day. Their cupboards are in similar condition: a lonely bag of pasta and some cereal as well as a few sandwich fillers like Nutella. It’s only three in the afternoon so I have at least two more hours before Joel and Tommy get back so a quick trip to the supermarket is definitely an option but then again so is ordering the shopping as I’m not going to be able to carry four peoples worth of food back from the shops and I don’t have a car. 
It doesn’t take long for the shopping to be ordered and delivered, our nosey neighbour bidding me good afternoon when I open the door to grab the bags from the delivery driver. I thank the driver then smile at William, sending him a wave before moving all the bags to the table so I can unpack them and put everything away. It should feel wrong, being in Joel’s house without him here and buying him shopping, putting it all away to then get started on dinner. Others would say they should pay me to be a stay at home mum but I’m not, I’m… I’m not sure what I am to them, maybe platonic soulmate? I don’t have to say anything for Joel to ever understand me and vice versa, that’s what platonic soulmates are, aren’t they? I don’t care what others think anyway, I’m happy in my own little bubble, it’s why I moved to Austin in the first place. I had to get away from everyone and everything I knew after the death of my brother, I couldn’t deal with the sympathetic looks and whispers. 
The front door opens and familiar voices fill the house as I’m plating up the one pot creamy chicken pasta I settled on making. The three of them file in, eyes widening and mouths watering at the steaming food set at the table, throwing their thanks at me before they’re practically racing to their seats and digging in. I make sure the hob is off and that the seconds are covered before joining them, taking my seat next to Tommy with Joel opposite me and it’s perfect. Joel and Tommy begin to talk about their days, one of their workmen not having turned up and made everything stressful and they’ll have to work late tomorrow which means I’ll be spending the day with Sarah tomorrow. Sarah then tells her dad and Uncle Tommy about her day, how a fight broke out and her best friend - Theo - told her the kids were expelled. They’ve both had eventful days so I’m just glad I could help take some of the pressure off of them. 
Joel’s doing amazingly as a single father, giving the fact Sarah’s mother just up and left him with Sarah one day. The brothers were forced to work things out, Tommy stepping up to be there for his older brother and little niece, and they’ve both done so fucking well for it. Sarah’s growing up to be a beautiful and fun, well mannered girl who is both equal parts strong and compassionate. It sometimes makes me jealous, seeing how well put together and close knit they are, longing for the same things but everything changed for me after losing my twin brother two years ago. My sister has reached out to me a few times but other than that not much has happened communication wise. Seeing the Millers makes me want to reach out to my parents but I know they would just reprimand me for leaving and if they found out where I lived they’d come all the way here and try and drag me back to California against my will. They had called me rude and disrespectful for not attending Scott’s funeral despite seeing the way I couldn’t leave the house that day without throwing up from the stress and realisation that my partner in crime was gone. I had packed up my things and hired a removal company to pick me up and drive me across the country to get as far away from it all as I could. 
A hand settles on my thigh and I’m whipping my head up to see Tommy and Joel watching me, concern in their eyes and Sarah’s no where to be seen. Her plates empty and there’s movement upstairs which means she’s probably gone to do her homework. The hand tightens on my thigh, “You okay baby girl?” I can’t stop the shiver that runs down my back and directly to my core whenever Tommy calls me ‘baby girl’ as it does stuff to me. 
“Y-yeah,” It’s not convincing, both of them raising their eyebrows at me, “My sister called me again to tell me my younger brother graduated yesterday.” I shrug and just focus on the comforting weight of Tommy’s hand through my jeans, the brothers sharing a look before they go back to eating and their own conversations knowing I’ll tell them one day about my past and my family. It’s another thing I love about them: they don’t push me to tell them things, knowing I’ll come to them if I want or need to. They’re always there for me and I hope I’m also there for them just as much. Maybe tonight could be the night I tell them about Scott… or tomorrow. 
“Come on baby girl, movie night.” Tommy grins at me, that stupidly cocky smile making my cheeks heat up and I have to avert my gaze, feeling Joel roll his eyes at me and he snorts quietly from amusement, “Let’s go old man!” Tommy’s smirking at Joel who throws his napkin at Tommy, the younger slapping his arm in retaliation. Children. 
I lean into Tommy’s side, pretending to sniff his shirt and pull a disgusted face, “Nice try, go shower first, you stink.” Before grabbing my now empty plate and heading to the sink, a gasp ripped from my lips when his familiar frame covers my back and presses me against the counter. His nose is cold against my neck, spreading goosebumps in its wake, lips ghosting over my neck before he murmurs, “Maybe you should join me, you stink too.” 
It takes everything in me not to let him have me, not ready to have my heart broken like Joel said but a huge part of him wants him. From everything I’ve been told about Tommy, and what I’ve seen, it’s hard to tell if he really does like me or sees me as a challenge because I don’t just fall into bed with him. Those velvety lips really settle on my neck, teeth scraping my collarbone and I’m gripping the counter so hard my knuckles go white and his chest rumbles against my back. The vanilla; woodsmoke and coffee mixed with the sweat and heat of him being out in the sun working all day makes me dizzy with everything Tommy and my lips are parting with a shaky breath. 
“Are you two gonna spent the evening fucking or join us?” Sarah’s cheeky voice scares me, my face heating up while Tommy doesn’t even seem phased as he just turns to her and winks. I stay where I am, too embarrassed to move as Tommy steps back a little, every fibre in my being wanting to follow him but I don’t. I have to take a deep breath before turning around to see Sarah grinning innocently at me while Tommy begins to raid the fridge as if I haven’t just fed him. 
“Sarah!” We hear Joel scold Sarah for her language from the living room, no actual venom in it as he also swears sometimes in front of Sarah. Better to teach her it’s okay to swear in certain situations and calling sex ‘fucking’ is definitely not the right situation. Especially when it’s directed at her uncle and me. 
Sarah just giggles and calls back a quick “Sorry Dad!” before watching me and Tommy. She’s always been curious and quickly worked out I wasn’t into her dad but her uncle, not as quickly as Joel but damn nearly as quick. It catches me off guard when she says, “I think you two would be cute together.” 
“I was just going to grab some sweet treats I may have got you all,” I change the subject, feeling shy suddenly, Sarah’s face lights up at this and Tommy reappears from having his head in the fridge at the word treats, “But before any of us can have any Uncle Tommy needs to go shower.” I fix him with a pointed gaze and Sarah’s grabbing her uncle and pushing him towards the stairs. 
“My offer still stands baby girl.” Tommy calls before Sarah’s making sure he actually goes upstairs. Once she’s sure he’s doing as he’s been told she waits for me to grab the only bag I didn’t unpack before we join Joel in the living room. He fixes me with a look as I settle on his left and Sarah sits on his right. 
Joel doesn’t have to speak for me to know what that look means: He will break your heart. There’s something else though, something that has me frowning down at the bag of sweets until Joel’s taking the bag and handing it to Sarah who knows exactly what sweets and drinks are for who as we all have our own favourites. Joel leans close, wrapping his arms around me in a hug before he whispers something I didn’t ever expect from him, “He really cares for you.” I just frown at Joel, unsure of what he’s getting out as he’s always trying to deter me from my feeling for Tommy. It’s never out of jealousy, Joel and I have talked about us and we agree we are and always will just be best friends. I need to bring up the platonic soulmates to him at some point actually as- “He hasn’t even looked at another girl in months.” Joel’s sighing softly, forehead falling to my shoulder and I finally understand. Tommy cares for me. He’s not just trying to get in my pants, he actually cares for me. 
The little touches, the flirting, the way he looks away when I catch him staring. He’s not flirting with me for the hell of it, he gets shy. Tommy gets shy over me but fuck his flirting game is something to be envied. The way he leaves me breathless and frustrated, that knowing smirk on his oh so kissable lips, the way he runs a hand through his dark curls and his cognac eyes sliding over me.  Tommy’s hair and those freckles have to me the biggest weakness for me. The amount times I’ve dreamt about tangling my hands through those curly locks, watching the way his eyes would darken and he’d probably gasp so dirtily. It has me shifting in my seat and Joel’s smacking my leg with the back of his hand as if reading my thoughts. His caramel eyes are soft and he seems to nod ever so slightly and that’s all it takes for me to stand up and make my way out of the living room and upstairs as calmly as I can. 
The bathroom door is unlocked so I open it silently, slipping inside and closing it without a sound. Tommy’s humming to himself, music playing on his phone so he doesn’t hear me and it gives me the opportunity to undress. It’s a huge risk I’m taking but I trust Joel’s words, quietly stepping in behind Tommy and just admiring how good he looks from the back. His lean muscles rippling and the smooth slide of his back, leading down to that very slap-able ass, all sun kissed skin and freckles. I have to refrain myself and instead step closer, snaking my arms around his waist causing him to jump a little before I’m pressing a kiss to his shoulder and he’s practically purring. He gently tugs me around him to I’m under the hot water, a groan escaping my lips as the water melts away all the tension in my shoulders and Tommy’s lips are on my neck. He’s smiling into the trail of kisses he’s leading up until the shower head is turned to the side so he can press those pretty lips to mine in a gentle kiss. I expected Tommy to be hot and needy like his flirting but he’s far from it, his kiss being slow and romantic, hands skimming over my sides as if his hands are trying to map and memorise every bump and curve of my body. It has me gasping a little, his tongue brushing against mine until my lung burn for oxygen. 
“Hi there baby girl,” His cognac eyes are warm and full of emotions I’ve been trying to ignore for so long, they stay on my face, never once straying despite being naked in front of him, “Didn’t actually think you’d join me.” 
“‘M crazy for you,” I mumble, going to duck my head but he stops me with a finger under my chin, pupils blown wide, “I’ve been crazy for you since we met.” 
“Fuck baby girl,” He’s whining, pulling me flush against him and capturing me in another breathtaking kiss, this one wanting more and it doesn’t take long for me to tangle my hand in his hair and tug experimentally. The breathy moan he lets out has me tugging harder, wanting to hear more and his hands grip my hips tightly, “You keep doing that and we will be skipping movie night.” 
“Is that a challenge?” 
He’s turning the shower off, picking me up and making sure my legs are wrapped around his waist before he drags me into a kiss, walking us to his room. He’s throwing me on his bed, shutting his door as the sound of the movie gets turned up a little more, like Joel knows. Oh god, we’re about to have sex with Joel and Sarah in the house. I can never look at them again-
Lips are on my thighs, kisses scattering their way up, moustache burning the sensitive skin a little and as much as I’d love for him to eat me out, having seen the way he eats ice cream I need him. My hands reach for his hair, pulling him away from my aching core and over me, drawing him for a  slow and passionate kiss while wrapping my legs around his waist. He gets the hint, chest rising and falling quickly as he murmurs in my ear, “You need prepping sweet girl.” It has me whining, back arching with need when he circles a rough pad of his finger around my wet heat. Any sound I make is swallowed by those addictive lips when he finally pushes a finger in, my walls immediately trying to clench around it and it draws a guttural sound from him. His lips trail down my neck and chest, teeth grazing my nipples before he’s sucking while beginning to move his finger inside me. All of it has my slamming a hand over my mouth as I try to stay quiet, especially when a second finger joins the first and he’s stretching me out. He’s rocking his hips into my leg, trying to be patient to make sure I’m comfortable but if he doesn’t stop soon I’m going to come. 
He can feel me fluttering around his hands, smile on his lips where they’re now biting a hickey into my neck, his fingers curling and hitting that bundle of nerves that snatches the air from my lungs. Fuck. It’s as if he already knows my body with the way he has me teetering on the edge of bliss, my walls trying to keep him in and my thighs slamming shut around his arm. His thumb comes up to rub teasing circles into the hard bud and it has my body tensing as I cry our his name, wave after wave of ecstasy shuddering through my body and my mind blanks of everything except Tommy. 
His lips find mine, moving leisurely, thumb caressing my cheek as he replaces his fingers with the head of his dick, already stretching me wide. A heavy gasp is ripped from me when he slowly begins to slide in, eyes squeezing shut as he’s bigger than he could have prepared me for but he’s whispering soothingly in my ear, “Shhh, shhhh, it’s okay baby girl. I’ve got you sweetheart. It’s alright. Deep breaths. Relax baby girl. I’ve got you.” 
The whispers accompanied by his fingers gently working on my clit has me relaxing enough to accept him all the way, the moan he lets out when buried to the hilt makes me almost come again there and then. He holds himself still until the uncomfortableness turns into burning hot want and need and I’m cautiously rolling my hips against him, his cognac eyes flying open to meet mine with a hungry look in them. He draws me into a hot and heavy kiss as he pulls out so just the tip is still in before he slides back in, filling me up and it’s nothing I expected from Tommy. I never understood the difference between sex and making love until now with Tommy resting his forehead against mine and our hands tangled together either side of my head as he slowly thrusts, taking his time and drawing out our mutual pleasure. The sound of our panted breaths and soft whimpers and whines drowns out the muffled music from the movie downstairs and all I can smell is Tommy, the vanilla and woodsmoke still clinging to him even after the shower. It all adds to the slowly building tightness in my stomach and I’m moving my hips down to meet his, my back arching when he hits that sweet spot that has me seeing stars. 
“T-Tommy..” I whine and his teeth graze my chin, adding to the pleasure as every fibre on my body is on fire, that coil tightening almost painfully as he drags against my g-spot with every thrust until I’m tensing up and my eyes roll back into my head. His hips begin snapping against mine, face buries in my neck and has tightening in mine as I ride out my high, him not too far behind. 
“Fuuuckkk baby girl,” He pants against my neck, hips stuttering as he thrusts a few more times before he’s filling me up, teeth sinking into skin to muffle his moan before he’s collapsing on top of me and I’m untangling one hand from his to bring it to his hair. He hums softly as I begin carding it through his messy curls, “‘M so in love with you. Have been for a while.” He admits, slipping out and leaving me feeling empty. 
“I’m in love with you too.” It’s spoken so quietly I’m not sure he hears it as he stands up to grab the towel and clean us up but from the grin that breaks out on his face he does. He’s grinning the whole time he’s wiping away the mess sliding down my legs as I’m too spent and tired to move. He helps me into a pair of his boxers and a baggy shirt before pulling on a pair of boxers himself. I can’t not blush when he just stands there, admiring me until I have to turn away as it’s too much attention, I’m not used to anyone looking at me like that. He’s looking at me like I hung the stars and it steals my breath away. 
“We can have another movie night tomorrow to make it up to them,” Tommy laughs, sliding into his bed behind me, wrapping himself around me like a safety net between me and the uncertain world, “I want you to know I really fucking love you and always will. You’re my sunshine on a cloudy day sweetheart.” 
That’s how I fall asleep, Tommy wrapped around me with his lips brushing against the back of my neck and his arm around my waist. A smile one my lips as his words echo around my mind. 
Sunshine of a cloudy day.
----------------------
TAGS: Tag List Form
@princessmk21 @iraot​ @gemimawrites​ @pedropascalsrealhusband @zynbsblog @twopercentmilk​ @sxnshinebxcky @nelsoomon @urnewghostfriend​ @sonhee-a​ @dizzyforyou-blog​ @grooveandshit​ @reyas-world @canpillowscry​ @jell0buss-37​ @androgynousgaz​ @not-a-unique-snowflake89​ @intergalacticspacemonkey @certifiedhunter​ @miya-park @emmulus22 @outl4wage
110 notes · View notes
darklydeliciousdesires · 11 months
Text
The Dream - Chapter Twenty One.
Huge thanks to everyone for their continued support :)
Tumblr media
Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty
Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)
Words - 3,294 
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!
“Hello, Keri, my love! I am so sorry, a thousand apologies for calling you on a Saturday morning when I know you’ve likely been out last night getting very, very drunk!”
Those warm tones of a mostly Indian accent, punctuated every so often with little American twangs, were the last she expected to hear at 10am that morning, getting out of bed and heading into the bathroom so as not to wake Angel.  
“Uncle Sunni!” she gushed excitedly, softly clicking the door shut and closing the toilet lid to take a seat.
“The one and only!” he chirped, Keri grinning widely. She swore, for every year that she’d known him, his accent had gotten stronger for returning to his parent’s homeland. “How are you, darling?”
“I’m really good! How are you and aunt Bee? And my cousins?”  
“We are all very well, thank you for asking. Saanvi has decided she is a Miley Cyrus girl now, so this is all we have playing in the house, Sita is doing well with her dance classes, and Sanjay is awful. Please come and take him away!” His joke about their youngest had her in soft fits, Sunni continuing. “Listen, I was calling to get a hold of my brother-in-law, is he around? I cannot get through to his cell, your mother’s neither,” he spoke, hoping that all was okay with the family.  
“Well, mom is in at work today doing some overtime, and I think David might be working on his truck. I don’t know, I’m not at home right now,” she revealed, finger combing her messy hair.  
“Ahh, I shall keep trying him, then. He is probably listening to that bloody god-awful Rainbow music. Since you’ve been gone? Since I wish you would go, more like!” he exclaimed, snorting with laughter.  
“That’s a classic!” she exclaimed.
“Oh, classic nothing!” Sunni yelled, his volume making her laugh. He always got louder by about twenty decibels whenever excited or trying to make a point. “That and his Boomtown Rats! I don’t like Monday’s? Nobody does, Bob Geldof! Bloody sit down and be quiet!”
She sat there in hysterics at his usual comic observations. Sunni was one of very few people who could legitimately make her cry laugh, her sides hurting. Usually from the hilarious banter he and Bee got into together, or the berating of her stepdad’s taste in music.  
“So where are you, then? You say you’re not at home, are you in work? Did I disturb? I am sorry if I’m getting you into trouble,” he then asked, courteous as always.  
“No, I quit my job recently. I needed more time at the weekends, plus with leaving college approaching and not wanting to have anything to tie me down so I can travel a little, I needed to do it soon anyway,” she began in explanation. “I’m at a hotel right now, my boyfriend is up visiting from Southern Cali.”
The noise of interest Sunni made had her in fits once more. “Oh! There is a new boyfriend on the scene! Have you been with him for long? Would I approve? What is he like?” She sat and gave him a brief outline of Angel to pacify his multiple questions, Sunni making little ‘umhm’ noises as she spoke.
“It sounds like you are very happy with this man, early days or not! I would fetch your auntie for you to have your obligatory girl’s talk, but it is her turn currently trying to get Sanjay to bed, and he is being an absolute horror about it!” Her youngest cousin Sanjay had just turned two and was most definitely living up to the term terrible two’s. “Anyway, I might as well tell you why I was trying to call David, share with you our news. I have been accepted for a post at Utah Valley Speciality Hospital, so good news, darling. We are returning to America.”  
“Oh my god!” she screamed, suddenly clasping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, that’s amazing!” she then added much more quietly, drumming her feet softly against the tiled floor. “I can’t wait! When do you come back?”
“Not for another three months, just while we finish getting everything sorted at this end, selling the house, etcetera. We didn’t tell anybody, just in case it didn’t come through, but now that it has and there is also a chance that your aunt could have a job also opening up at the same hospital, now that Sanjay is of preschool age and she can return to work, we felt confident in sharing the news.” he explained, delighted at his niece’s reaction.  
They chatted for a short time longer before ending their call, Keri absolutely ecstatic to have some of her favourite family members returning. Tying her hair up, she brushed her teeth and took a quick shower, coming out to find Angel checking his phone.
“What was all the excitement for? I heard a squeal of ‘oh my god’,” he grumbled, still sounding half asleep as he placed his phone back down, a hand sliding into her towel to stroke her hip.  
“That was my uncle on the phone. He was trying to get a hold of my parents, but they’re not picking up. Anyway, he told me he and Bee are moving back over here, he’s got a job at a local hospital, so I’m over the moon that I’ll be able to see them regularly instead of once a year,” she shared.
“Yeah? That’s great, baby. I know you hated that they lived halfway around the world,” he replied brightly, just as his stomach began to growl. She raised an eyebrow, shaking her head as she leaned to kiss his abdomen. “I think I need feeding.”  
An hour later and they were sitting inside a small restaurant, hard wood surfaces, Edison light bulbs and plants strewn over the large shelves that flanked the black walls, Keri bouncing in her seat with excitement at one particular dish on the menu.
Angel looked over at her with a smile. “You just saw the peanut butter pancakes, didn’t you?”
“I did!” she squeaked. How well he knew her. Anything with peanut butter, and Keri was on it in an instant.  
Reaching for her hand, he squeezed it gently, thinking how adorable she was. “Y’all a hundred percent too cute, mamacita.” Her beamed smile made his heart skip a beat, sitting there feeling like he was the luckiest guy in the world. While the waited for their food, they sat and discussed her ever nearing departure from college, meaning that for the following three weeks they wouldn’t be able to meet with her workload going into overdrive in preparation to finish, but when she did, she had some plans.  
“I’m going to book going over to Galway, but not for as long as I originally wanted to. If you could come then that’d be great, I think Aaron and Rachel are down, Frankie too. Jaime won’t be because of work. So yeah, we’re planning on that to be for two weeks. Then I was thinking of driving down to Santo Padre, maybe basing myself there for a while, travelling around Cali. If you don’t mind, that is?”
He put on a thoughtful face, scratching his chin. “Hmm, do I mind having my beautiful, sexy, funny, amazing girlfriend around more often? Hmm, lemme think on that.” She began laughing softly through her nose, leaning over to kiss him. “Of course, I don’t mind.” Despite the joviality of his statement, he felt a pit in his stomach at hearing her plans to travel. He pushed it down, though, reasoning that she wanted to stay with him in her time between.
“Good, because you’re stuck with me now.” There was truly nobody he’d rather be stuck with. Their weekend went by in a blur, Keri holding him tightly before he departed, crying in his arms at how much she anticipated she was going to miss him. He hated leaving her behind whenever he had to go home again, but the buzz inside of knowing he’d get so much more time with her over the spring and summer alleviated the sadness of being separated from her.
While they were parted, he took his mind off it by putting in some serious time around the yard, taking on extra shifts, deciding to re-decorate his bedroom and make it look a little better than the mismatching bare essentials vibe, seeking some advice from a certain lady.
“You need a theme!” Sharise exclaimed, taking a cart from the front of the local homeware store, buzzing already. If Mrs Reyes thrived on anything, it was a decoration project.  
He viewed her with mild disgust, his nose crinkling. “A theme? Nope. I saw a picture online and I want that. Dark green walls, white ceiling. I got new furniture on the way, too. I just need things to make it look less empty.”
“Rug, lamps, artwork, candles,” Sharise began to list.
“No candles!”
“Yes, candles!” she stated emphatically. “Keri likes them, she told me which is her favourite. Black coconut by Yankee, and they sell them here.”  
He took a pause for a moment, his brow creasing. “Are you two making plans behind my back? Is this a little scheme you’ve cooked up to get some damned chick litter all up in my space?”
Sharise threw her head back, entertained at the chick litter term. “No! We were chatting the other night, she replied to one of my stories I put up with my candle collection all burning, and she mentioned she liked Yankee candles about as much as I do. Us girls talk about things like that, you know.”  
“Hmph.” His mutter was then followed by a speedy swerve around the cart, Sharise attempting to put some large cushions into it. ”No cushions! My couch is fine as it is!”
“These are for the bed,” she clarified, gently slapping his arms, grabbing two more that were slightly darker.  
“I got pillows, I don’t need ‘em!”
“They’ll finish the bed nicely, add a little depth of comfort.”
His face was a picture of confusion. “They add... what?”
“And when you’re having sex, you can pop a couple underneath your lady and they’ll tilt her hips in a way that means you get to hit a whole other host of different angles.”
He nodded, gesturing to the previously frowned upon items. “Alright, they can stay.” She grinned, tossing her braids over her shoulder as they continued, smug that she knew exactly what to say in order to get around his protests. He was, as she expected, still difficult, though.
“Sharise! Put it back,” he ordered, pointing as she wrestled with a giant, white sheepskin rug from the rolls gathered at the back of the store.
“You’re going for bare floorboards, right?”
He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am.”
“Then you need a nice rug to tie the room together!”
Depth of comfort and tying the room together. Her chosen language was completely lost on him. “But then I gotta vacuum the damned thing!” His complaint was accompanied by a little show of drama, folding his arms over the cart handle, resting his head down and regretting his decision to involve his sister-in-law.
“No, because the fleece is too long, it’ll get caught in the rollers. You just go shake it outside, et voila! Done.” Into the cart it went, Angel muttering in mild despair. Fluffy rugs. Was this what his life had become?  
The rest of the store was browsed rapidly, Angel actually being able to make his own choices, loading up on photo frames he planned to put some of Keri’s photographs into after he’d had them blown up, a set of white plaster skulls that looked remarkably like the real thing, Sharise adding bits and pieces as she went for both him and herself. The large, black and grey vase with black birch twigs was not one of his choices, but he allowed it. Begrudgingly.  
“So, you seem to be very content with Keri, then, with this talk of her coming to stay for a while,” Sharise observed, finishing the large mouthful of Cuban sandwich she’d just taken at a bar she’d driven them to, telling Angel she’d at least buy him lunch in apology for terrorising him in the home décor stakes.
He smiled, thinking of her. “I really am, she’s cool. Can’t wait to have her come kinda live with me, even though I think it’ll only be temporary.”
She noticed he sounded a little dejected by that. “Because of her travelling? You two are so sillily in love with one another, I can see her making Santo Padre her base when she isn’t, you know. I know it’s still early days, but you two fit together so well.”
He scratched the back of his neck, his brow furrowing. “I sometimes wonder if I’m the one who’ll be temporary. She’s so ambitious, and young still, too. Makes me wonder if we’ll last.”  
“Well, just see how it goes, but don’t write off a future with her just because she has ambitions!” she gently suggested, reaching to squeeze his hand. “She doesn’t have to be around you all the time to be in a committed relationship with you.”
He snorted softly, looking uncomfortable, clamming up as she predicted he would. She would press, though. She’d heard of this before. “I did wonder, when you’d have your wobble.” His frown prompted her to continue. “Lucy told me, that back when you guys got together, you had a little bit of a freak out over whether she’d meet anyone else, and I suppose that’s rearing its ugly head again, with talk of Keri going off travelling around. You think she’s going to meet someone you assume to be better, don’t you?”  
He grunted.  
“Angel,” she spoke softly, reaching to stroke his face, tilting his head up. “You need to start putting to bed these feelings that you aren’t good enough. You are. Did Lucy find anyone else? Nope. So, there’s no saying Keri is going to. She’s crazy about you, for heaven’s sake! And I know what you’re gonna say, that other women in the past have only seen you as a short-term fling, but my love, that’s because it’s all you’ve offered to them, whether consciously or not.”  
“Yeah, yeah I guess you’re right," he finally admitted, realising that it was his self-sabotage coming back to haunt him. As soon as he fell in love, it was only a matter of time before it came bubbling up to the surface, his fears of loss, of not being good enough.  
He’d been pushing it down into his darkest depths for the last two weeks, ever since they’d confessed their love. It had been festering a little closer to the surface since her talk of travelling over breakfast the last time he’d seen her, though. The little pit in his stomach he’d felt? It had predictably taken root, no matter how much he didn’t want it to.  
Looking over at Sharise, he felt his little padlocked gate begin to strain. If there was one woman he always opened up to, it was her. “I don’t want to wreck it all, but I’m kinda scared I will. I can’t just be happy. My fucking brain has to freak out and cause drama. Which I usually then fuckin’ thrive on.”  
It suddenly clicked with Sharise, the sprucing up of his home. He wanted to hopefully make Keri feel as if it was hers, too. He wanted to find more ways to entice her return, hence doing away with the bachelor pad look, albeit with slight reluctance. Oh, he was too adorable, in such a beautifully, partially broken way. From what Keri had told her in exchanges messages, chatting online in order to get to know each other more, he had no reason to feel insecure. Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. People were rarely so simple.  
“Angel, the only way you’re going to wreck it is by listening to that toxic little voice in the back of your head instead of Keri. Have faith. She came into your life for a reason. There’s no way that dreaming of her before you even met her is anything less than destiny. Believe in it. You were doing great until you let the panic creep in.” Taking another bite of her sandwich, she winked, Angel determined to take her advice on board.  
It didn’t help that he was only a week into a three-week separation from her, but he did work hard to keep Sharise’s advice in mind. As if the universe had heard his doubts, he received a notification one night, painting well into the small hours after returning from dealing with club affairs, wiping his hand on a spare piece of cloth as he crawled over the painting sheets to grab his phone. Keri had tagged him in an Instagram post.  
‘I don’t even know how one man can be so amazing. He’s the sexiest, the funniest, the loveliest, the best. I miss you, gorgeous. Can’t wait until this is us again.’
He smiled at viewing the image, one Keri had taken in the hotel room on the bed as she’d sat astride him, her hand reached out cupping his cheek, Angel smiling up at her as the sun shone in through the window and bathed him in bright light. He remembered just how happy he’d felt, when she’d taken it, his heart fluttering at the memory, scrolling to his call list and tapping her name.  
“Hey, you free to talk?”
“I am, I have a few spare minutes,” she replied, waiting for her coffee to pour, prepared to work right on through until the morning and then sleep for a few hours before she started again. “How are you? I hate that tomorrow is Saturday and I won’t have you here. Sucks.”
He was surprised to hear she was still up doing her work, since she’d mentioned earlier when they’d messaged that she’d be spending the entire day doing such. “You got some serious dedication there, for it to be 1am and you’re still working. As for me, yeah, I’m alright. Missing you like fuck, though.”  
She made a soft noise in her throat, picking up her large mug of coffee (a two-pod creation) and turning the machine off. “I miss you too! Two weeks and I’ll be free, though, get to come and spend ten days with you before Galway. Did you ask Bish, if you can swing that kind of time away?”
“I did,” he sighed, “and I can’t. I could come for a week, but he can’t lose me for two.”
She was bright in her reply, all optimism. “Well, that’s better than nothing! Come out with us for the week, then head home. How about that? I’d rather at least have you there for a short time rather than not at all. These places I want to travel to, having you there by my side would mean so much. I know it’s corny, but the whole making memories thing is important, you know?”
Her words made him smile, the more rational side of him seeing clearly how stupid his self-doubt was. He knew he wouldn’t likely overcome it immediately, but what she told him had helped. “Yeah, querida, I know. I love you.”
“And I love you too. Listen, I have to hit the laptop again, but I’ll call you tomorrow, after I’ve had some sleep. Night, gorgeous.”
“Night baby.” Ending the call, he looked around at the half-painted walls. They weren’t the only work in progress.  
32 notes · View notes
exhausted-impact · 1 year
Text
Event Task: Countdown
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Happy New Year in advance, everyone! (And apologies for the format! Mobile posting between family things 😆)
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
When flowers lit up the night sky, Luke and Rosa jumped on his bed as high as they could.
"Happy New Year!" They cheered as Peanut watched from his perch. "Happy New Year! Haaaappyyy Newwww Yeaaarr!"
When they'd finally worn themselves out, the pair collapsed on the bed in a fit of giggles, faces flushed.
"Please take care of me this year as well, dear Watson." Luke gave Rosa a quick peck on the nose.
"That goes without saying." She gently cupped his cheeks before giving them a light pinch. "And I know you'll have my back as well, my beloved Sherlock."
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
When the bells tolled twelve times near Stellis National Park, Vyn took Rosa's hand in his and kissed it.
"Happy New Year, my rose." His silver hair reflected the ever-changing colors of the sky. "May this year be kind to us as well."
"If not, then we'll make it be kind to us." Rosa smiled as she pulled him closer to her, his ever-graceful gait stumbling for a moment at the sudden action.
She quickly put her arms around his neck. "Remember, we're the ones who make our dreams reality, right?"
"So I've been shown time and again." Vyn couldn't help but chuckle. "We have chosen each other as our happiness, affer all."
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
When cheers of "Happy New Year!" rang out across the city, Marius and Rosa stepped out onto the balcony and clinked their glasses together.
"Here's to a brand new year, Miss!" His eyes sparkled with good cheer. "Let's go on more adventures together, just you and I!"
"Just us, huh?" She shot him a smirk, feeling particularly mischievous. Time for payback. "What sort of adventures do you have in mind?"
"You know...this and that!" Marius knew what Rosa was up to. Oh, two could play at this game. "Trips, mostly...unless Miss was thinking of something else...?"
"Marius! Von! Hagen!"
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"Five...four...three...two...one...Happy New Year!"
When the voice over the loudspeaker announced the arrival of the new year, Artem and Rosa shared their first kiss of the year at Celebration Plaza.
"Happy New Year." He murmured as they came up for air, his tender gaze taking in every inch of her face. "I hope to grow together with you this year as well."
"I'd like that, Artem." Rosa pulled him in until their foreheads were touching. "We'll walk together every step of the way."
No more words were said for a while after that as the two held each other, the sky blooming brightly behind the two as if to bless them.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Special shoutouts to some of the people who've made my 2022 a little bit better, a little bit brighter 😄
@actualbird @babylulururu @surely-galena @samsspambox @rexonalapis
60 notes · View notes
bitchinbarzal · 10 months
Note
i say we make tate suffer more! maybe she's pregnant and milo and her are still fighting and she gets into like a serious accident and is in the hospital and its just sooo .. bad for tate
It was January, everyone was back at college and Milo was away for a hockey game.
Tate knew to be careful on the roads, they were icy still.
She was on her way back from a doctors appointment when it happened. A car ran a red light at a four way stop. Tate’s side of the car was completely crushed in on itself, Tatum was found out cold by the paramedics.
The hospital called her parents who were obviously concerned and immediately called Ellen Hughes, the closest adult to their little girl. However, they appeared to be in Vancouver visiting their oldest son.
The parents were still at least four hours from reaching her if they could catch a flight, which they couldn’t do because the next available flight wasn’t until later that night.
So they called Milo. He was in Ohio for a game when they called and he left the building immediately and made his way back to Michigan.
When he arrived at the hospital, Milo was frantically asking for Tate’s room. The receptionist directed him to Tatum’s doctor and he began asking every question
“How bad are the injuries?”
“Is the baby ok?”
“Will this affect the baby?”
The doctor laughed “I assume you’re dad then?”
Milo blushes, not many people have really called him that considering what had been going on and he nodded “Yeah”
The doctor smiles “Miss Edwards is going to be ok, she’s going to be sore, her back is bruised and her right wrist has a crack in it but the baby is ok, no issues detected”
Milo deflated after hearing it. They were ok.
“She’s just in there, still asleep but she should wake up within the hour”
Milo sat in the chair across from Tatum’s bed, scrolling on his phone. She hadn’t woken up before the door opened and The Edward’s walked in.
“Oh my babygirl” her mom sobbed, rushing in.
Ethan looked at Milo, who had stood up now and nervously rubbed his sweaty palms on his trousers
“Milo” he grumbled and Milo nodded
“Um, the doctor should be in soon… she has a bruised back and her wrist is a little cracked but she should recover well. The baby is ok too, nothing wrong with him at all” Milo explains to them both, staring down at their daughter.
“Thank you, Milo” her mom smiles “Are you going to wait for her to wake up?”
Milo stutters and Ethan rolls his eyes “No, he’s going to run away like he has for the past seven months”
While his wife scolds him Milo shrugs “It’s ok Mrs E, I deserve that”
“For what it’s worth, our son is so lucky to have Tatum as a mom. She was raised by really great parents. I made a mistake in everything I did but I really want to try be better, for Tate and for our son. Even if you guys hate me now”
Milo left then, walking out of the room and leaving the Edwards all a little speechless.
“He’s still not good enough for her” Ethan grumbled
“He’s trying Eddy… he’s doing everything we prayed Ryan would’ve done for Tate. Give him a chance, not everyone fits right into parenting like you did”
49 notes · View notes
ivykim · 2 years
Text
moving in with ivy (part 1)
Tumblr media
masterlist // wattpad
ENHYPEN&HI Season 1, Episode 1
summary: the first episode to enhypen&hi after enhypen finally debuted. they are all gathered in their new home and are all currently settling in. even watching I-LAND just for memories.
ivy’s outfit: greetings | goodnight | going to work!
NOTE: this is only part 1 since i made this a little too long :( full version is on wattpad though.
Tumblr media
finally enhypen had been formed, sure ivy was upset she was not able to debut with aria but she still hopes the best for her. they would see each other again even and phones did exist so they could call each other from time to time.
“hello, I am kim ivy and i’m the one and only girl member of ENHYPEN.”
— what is it like to know you’re about to debut?
“honestly, I am very thankful to be able to debut with these boys as all of us went through a difficult time. having to fight a spot to debut isn’t exactly what every trainee expects. it was really hard for me especially since everyone had high expectations on me. I had the need to take a step further and go beyond their expectations.”
“unfortunately, I realised that it did more harm than good but that’s in the past! i am here now as part of ENHYPEN, the debut team!”
ivy and the boys had to record a greetings message for the fans and to thank for supporting them and to continue supporting them. they made a lot of mistakes but it was all laughter and fun.
“hoon, can you please do it right.” she laughs. sunghoon sulks.
“it’s hard. I need to remember I’m an idol now.” he gets himself in a trance and gets ready.
they made mistake after mistake but they kept trying it over again to get it right.
“we-oh my god.” ivy laughs. “hold on, let me-HAHAHAHAHA.” she continues to laugh.
“ivy!” heeseung hits her lightly.
“i’m sorry!” she wipes her tears from laughing too hard.
finally they got it after multiple attempts. jungwon cringes from doing the greetings.
after that schedule, they settled in a bus. they were finally able to visit their own dorms.
“wahhhh~~” ivy says upon entering the bus.
“vivi-ah.” heeseung taps his lap.
“heeseung, no. i’m not sitting on your lap! there are seats right here!” she says. she was blushing.
they settled down and the bus starts moving. all of them excitedly talking about how different it would be.
“woah, the outside world.” sunoo says.
“there are people. so cool.” jake adds. ni-ki laughs at jake’s joke.
and finally, they arrived at their new home. a place where all 8 members of enhypen would be staying.
"this is legendary." sunghoon says. everyone was clearly in awe at how big the dorm was.
"are you sure we did not just walk into someone's home?" ivy asks. they laughed.
"wait, the most important part. the bedrooms!" everyone bolts straight to the bedrooms. it was huge. there were four bunk beds.
"wait, i'm not getting my own room?" ivy pouts. the managers scratch their heads.
"oh come on, you didn't forget about me did you?" ivy huffs. the managers laughed. they led ivy to another room. sure, it was small but enough to possibly fit two people if there was a time (for now obviously it's just her room).
the boys popped their heads into her room.
"damn, ivy got a solo room. wish we had a room of our own." jake says.
"we all know heeseung hyung will definitely be in here most of the times." sunoo says. heeseung blushes.
"well, me and ivy have late night talks. you guys don't." heeseung defends himself.
"enough. we have bathrooms to check out and the huge living room to talk about." ivy says.
they entered bathroom.
"oh i am so going to have a romantic and relaxing shower in the tub." ivy says.
"with wine?" jay asks.
"yeah." her eyes met with the camera, she gets flustered. "ehem, not that i drank yet. moreover, i haven't turned 20 just yet. heh, sorry."
"wait, noona hasn't turned 20?" ni-ki asks.
"she has, her birthday hasn't pass by yet so she's still 19." heeseung explains. ivy nudges him.
"look at you knowing my birthday hasn't passed. you love paying attention to small details about me huh?" she smirks. heeseung playfully rolls his eyes.
enhypen moves over to the living room. it didn't have much just yet but they surely liked the space. the manager places down the food they had bought for them since they were starving. with that, they went to eat and had a little chat. discussing who should be their official leader.
— what do you think your role in ENHYPEN is?
"i don't really exactly have a role. i'm just part of ENHYPEN but if i think about it...i think i'm in charge of keeping things orderly, maybe kinda like an unofficial leader. i think it's because i'm one of the older ones so i kinda have that want to lead them around."
"or maybe it's just because they see me like a mother-figure and so i'm just leading 7 kids around." she looks into the camera. "praying they do not make me the leader."
and now they were in their living room after eating, watching I-LAND all over again. they watched each other enter the I-LAND hall.
"honestly, why did they make us walk through the forest. i felt like i was on 'Law of the Jungle.' and like i really thought i was going to have to hunt for food." ivy says. jay snorts.
"noona, we were in a survival show. it shows that we have to survive the possible outcome of us not debuting." jay says.
"well- don't go all logic with me, jay-ah." ivy pouts. jay laughs before holding her close and giving her a small hug.
each of them had their monologue of walking into I-LAND and well ivy's one garnered tons of reaction with the boys.
she enters the frame with the wind blowing her hair, she looked like she was straight out of a kdrama. aria told her something funny so she laughs. it made her so pretty and the boys couldn't help but gawk at her beauty.
— "i was really nervous. although, i had aria unnie with me by my side. i was still afraid. it took me days to master our choreography and i was terrified i might mess it up in one go and possibly be kicked out in the first episode."
"ayy noona, look at you trying to be kdrama." jungwon teases.
"they edited me like that. i can't do anything about that."
"the editors do know how to make her look nice. i mean she was everyone's I-LAND crush." jake says.
"shut it, jaeyun." ivy says, embarrassed. she hides her face behind jay. jay pats her head.
they continued watching the first episode until they decided it was best to sleep and rest. it was already late at night anyways.
"vivi, you wanna wash up first?" heeseung asks.
"mmm no, it's okay. you go first. i'll unpack my things and maybe organise some stuff." ivy says. heeseung nods.
"noona, i'll go after you!" ni-ki shouts.
"no, it's okay. i don't mind showering the last. i usually take extremely long to shower anyways. plus, i don't sleep that early."
"we have a schedule tomorrow." jungwon says.
"i'll leave it to the manager to wake me up." ivy shrugs. both managers looked at each other and did rock, paper & scissors. "pfftt, good luck, manager oppa." ivy says.
it takes a while for enhypen to fall asleep. ivy makes eye contact with the camera.
"the boys are probably asleep, unfortunately...for me, i have trouble sleeping in new places. which is why, i was a bit restless on the first day of I-LAND. i shall attempt to fall asleep right now though." she holds up her fist, "fighting, ivy." she goes to shut off the lights and lays in bed.
what the camera doesn’t know was that heeseung actually walked in her room and dragged her into their bedroom. this was all behind the scenes.
“vivi, can’t sleep.” heeseung pouts. ivy smiles.
“then let’s cuddle. I can’t sleep too, I need my stuff toys to cuddle before I can fall asleep.” heeseung holds out his arms and ivy happily hugs him.
the next morning, the boys and ivy were supposed to have a schedule. which meant, the manager would have to wake them up. they wanted to wake ivy up but couldn’t find her on her bed. they found her in heeseung’s bed. they smiled, such an adorable sight. they decided to just wake jay up instead.
jay crawls out of bed. he goes to have a drink (well coke) and then stumbles back to bed like a zombie before falling back to sleep. the managers were baffled.
“jay-ah, wake up.” the managers called out. "let's wake up and wash up."
slowly, everyone wakes up. with ivy and heeseung waking up the last.
"noona." sunoo tries to wake ivy up. she hums. "wake up." she nods before rolling over and falling back to deep sleep. they kept sleeping anywhere possible but they knew they had to wake up as they were busy today.
"vivi, go bathe." heeseung gently wakes her up.
"noooo. let me sleep."
"we have to go to the company, vivi." heeseung says. ivy hesitantly gets up. she grabs her towel and clothes, before going over to bathe. she leaves the bathroom whilst drying her wet hair, she goes over to the hairdryer and dries her hair.
"is this okay?" she asks ni-ki. he nods.
they went to the car and they were on their way to the company to practice.
end of part 1 | start part 2?
102 notes · View notes
tessa-quayle · 1 year
Text
looking California and feeling Minnesota
Joel Miller x OFC Grace (and a nod to Joel x Tess)
Tumblr media
Prompt: “what do you want from me?”
THANK YOU to the incomparable @jomiddlemarch​ for 1) creating this OFC and letting me take the character for a spin, 2) being the best beta reader and editing this so it’s actually readable, 3) the prompts, and 4) being generous and encouraging.  
Do yourself a favor and read the series she started on this OFC/Joel on her AO3.  It’s a loose fit series with a Ted Lasso AU crossover. This fic can be read alone here on tumblr and is so lovely
I haven’t written a fic in 5 years (an explanation, not an excuse) - you can find this one on AO3 here.  
Rating: M (language, a sprinkle of sexy-time spice, no full-on smut sorry) 
Word Count: 2.8K
Summary:  Joel says Tess’ name in his sleep. Grace (an OFC) asks too many questions.  Joel and Ellie are evasive.  Joel and Grace quarrel.  A scavenging mission becomes a cold war.  Little traumas everywhere.  
Pairings: Joel/Tess, Joel/OFC-Grace, OFC-Grace/OMC-Kian
Warnings/Heads-up: angst, brief allusion to torture and violence, politics, foreshadowing for season 2 if you squint, alcohol, post-coital angst, foreplay angst
It wasn’t the first dream he’d had about that afternoon in the rotunda.  
The gasoline scented air thick with dust and heat.  Black cables snaked on the tiled marble.  
“I never asked you for anything, not even to …”
"I felt the way you felt, Tess.  I’ve always had.”  
She arched her neck to the side, revealing a peach flesh tendril under the army green collar.  
“You flinched.”
“I’m - I’m sorry.”
Tess shrugged.  
He watched her thumb the silver wheel on the lighter again and again: flick, flick, flick.     
“You should go."
“I saved Ellie,” he offered.  
"Keep going, Joel.  Save who you can save.”   
Save who you can save.  A plea, a promise.  
Tess.  Joel whispered her name like a prayer, a secret.  Eyes shut, drool pooling on the corner of his partly open mouth, his right cheek pressed against the pillow.  
___
Joel.  Joel.  Grace repeated his name three, four times.   She’d already lightly run her fingers through the tufts of soft curls as she murmured into his left ear “Joel, you’re okay, you’re in Jackson, Wyoming.  This is Grace.”   
He jolted awake.   
“You ok?  Must’ve been some dream.”
____
Grace didn’t want to ask, she knew she shouldn’t, and that they don’t - not here, not now - but she wanted to know.  She had those types of dreams about Before Jackson - the ones that made you sit bolt upright in sweat drenched sheets.  
His name was Kian.  Tall, dark brown eyes.  A boisterous laugh that filled every room.  
“How’d you predict it’d fall so quickly?”  It was the month FEDRA had begun disappearing people in the Seattle QZ, mutilating corpses in the square.  She figured he’d give some answer about being the son of parents who fled Tehran during the revolution, some intergenerational trauma or imprinting, a Spidey sense of recognizing fascist fuckers lurking on a street corner.
“History rhymes.  You really thought our institutions were going to save us?  Bush v. Gore didn’t prove to you that the courts were never going to save us?”
He looked down at her as their legs tangled on a twin bed narrower than the one she had in college, a thin mattress against a wooden frame, rumpled sheets, the comforter and clothes strewn on the floor.
Outside the sirens blared as he whispered, softly chuckling into her hair: “Grace, babe, we save ourselves.”
And she failed at that.  
Grace never told a soul how ready she was that still-dark morning.  She’d heard his screams from her cell.  She was done.  Grief turning into a death wish.  A clean shot to the back of the head.  She imagined dead-Lauren quipping: that would have been enough.  
The FEDRA woman ripped off her blindfold and cut the zipties.  
It was dawn and streaks of red orange hovered over the darkened trees on the horizon, the moon a faint sliver in the purple gray clouds that filled the rest of the sky.  
“You came in the middle of the night to save my life at Harborview back in ’01.  I remember you - Dr Yang, yeah?” 
Grace swallowed and nodded, her head aching and dizzy, unable to recall how or what she’d done, whether she’d cauterized a bleeding stomach ulcer or merely fished out a bone lodged in the esophagus, how this officer must have mistaken her for someone else who’d done real heroic shit.
“This is what you’re going to do,” the FEDRA officer continued.
She rolled the body bag off the truck, a hard thump on the ground, and proceeded to throw Grace’s belongings at her feet, along with a revolver she removed from a holster, and pressed Kian’s cherry red Swiss army knife into her palm.  
 “You have one hour.  Bury your boyfriend, then get out.  Follow the train tracks.  Go east.  We’ll call this even.”
 ___
Ellie and Grace waited by the gate for Joel.  The sun already hot by mid morning, Ellie took off her hoodie and tied it around her waist.
Against her better judgment, Grace blurted out: "Hey, may I ask you a question?  You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to…
The fourteen-year-old eyed her skeptically.  “Um, okaaay.”   
“Who’s Tess?”
“Tess?”  Ellie echoed in a lilt.
“Yeah, Tess.”
“Um,” Ellie’s eyes darted behind them, as if to make sure they were alone.  “Um, Tess was Joel’s partner in the Boston QZ.  She died on our way here.  The Fireflies had paid her and Joel to take me to this a hospital in Salt Lake City where um, my condition was going to help create some vaccine.”
“Wait.  What’s this about a vaccine?   What do you mean, ‘condition?’”
Ellie pushed up a sleeve to reveal her forearm, the gnarled bite mark resembling a skin graft, a soft rubbery keloid. 
Wide-eyed, Grace exclaimed: “Oh God. Was that a bite? You’re immune? What the hell happened in Salt Lake? Is that where you and Joel went last year? What’d they do? Did they run blood tests? Do a spinal tap? How did…?”
Grace was relentless in her line of interrogation.  She asked Ellie a total of twenty plus questions about drugs, equipment, storage, procedures, doctors and nurses and staff, the Fireflies, how she originally got bit, who was with her, who found her, when she realized she was immune.  She didn’t probe any further about Tess.  Maybe it was that death had become so present, she felt no urge to dig for details, and imagined somewhere Tess and Kian and maybe Lauren were throwing back drinks, exchanging stories about those they left behind.
Ellie began to stammer: “Shhhhh. Stop. I don’t know. I don’t know! I mean, I’m immune, for sure. But I don’t remember much - I was drugged up. Joel had to get me out of there when the raiders attacked.  He said they didn’t need me, that there were other kids immune, too.”  
She looked down before continuing. 
“I remember Marlene and then waking up in the back of a car in this paper hospital gown….”  Glancing up, slightly panicked, Ellie pleaded: “You can’t tell anyone, Grace. I swear. About me. About all of this. We can’t talk about this anymore.”
____
“Joel, don’t freak out.”  Grace drew in a deep breath. “I just thought you should know.  That I know about Ellie and what happened in Salt Lake. And I promise I won’t tell anyone. I’m just glad you both made it back … back safe.”  She wanted to say “home,” but was unsure what that word may mean to him when she couldn’t figure out what it meant to her.   
Joel looked at her, startled, and opened his mouth to reply before she interrupted and began peppering him manically with questions, her curiosity getting ahead of her. 
“What did they have? What did they say? Was there a lab? Do you remember who you talked to?”  She began gesticulating wildly, a habit she slipped into when excited and talking too rapidly.  “There was this woman Abby I met when l left the Seattle QZ and she told me her dad was some doctor out in Utah or Colorado trying to do something with vaccines and I asked her how they had the technology or a way to operationalize it in the middle of all of this and it just sounded too good to be true. You know? And then Ellie said you said there were other kids like her? Were they all there?  How…”
Joel waved his hand dismissively and shrugged.  “I don’t remember much about it. I saw Marlene, but I don’t remember anyone else.  Lots of clickers turned up. Last thing I know I grabbed Ellie and we got the hell out." 
“Holy shit, raiders AND clickers? Ellie said raiders attacked.”
“Well, yeah, both,” Joel backtracked.  “I can’t recall every detail…” He straightened his posture and squared his broad shoulders, crossing his arms defensively and she couldn’t help but spy the muscled forearms exposed below his rolled sleeves.  ”How did you even start talkin’ to Ellie ‘bout this?”
“I dunno.” Grace mumbled, looking down at her boots and blushing. “I asked her who Tess was and then…”
“How did you hear about…?” His eyes darkened. “We don’t talk about Tess. We don’t ever bring up Tess.”
Staring back at his scowl, Grace felt her ears burning and heart pounding.  She bit her lip trying not to say what she wanted to yell: you brought Tess up first. Said her name in my bed. 
“Dude - what the fuck. It’s fine. We all have our histories. I’m just …”
“Well, we can keep our fucking histories to ourselves.”  Joel snapped.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel. You love who you love. I’m just trying to…” Her fingers curled into fists on the frayed straps of her backpack, its bottom slack since she’d kept it half-empty to hold anything they’d find, the stitched-over seams loose for once.  
“What do you want from me?” Joel growled. 
Dead-Lauren would have warned Grace: You get really petty when you’re angry. Grace stomped ahead deliberately to his right, up the rolling incline swatting away the wildflowers brushing her knees, muttering under her breath Not this fucking bullshit.
“What did you say?” He turned to her.
“Nothing.” Bile in her throat, her voice rising into a shout.  “Nothing, alright?  I want nothing.” She quickened her pace as she looked back and spat out: “And don’t you dare fucking talk that way to me again.”
___
Ellie was stuck.  Between Joel’s asshole voice and Grace’s resting bitch face, their fourteen days were painfully silent hikes interrupted by surprisingly successful scavenging: dilapidated convenience stores, an untouched mom-and-pop pharmacy, an abandoned vegetable garden overgrown with mint.  Ellie launched her best puns and jokes, none of which landed, both Joel and Grace humoring her by letting out the occasional chuckle, and then marching quietly ahead up yellow grassy hills or down rocky pastures.  They stole glances at one another when they thought they could, glimpses quickly turning into glares when Ellie caught them in the act, the teenager rolling her eyes and shaking her head in exasperation.
In the evenings around the campfire, a crackling flame pierced the silence as they ate wordlessly, pine and sage and forest moss wafting in the smoke.  
____
“Grace.”
She shifted on the boulder and lifted her head at the sky, trying to find Orion, fiddling with the zipper on her fleece, pretending not to hear him.  
Joel walked toward her and held out his worn bronze honey-colored jacket, “weighty and warm,” she had remarked when months ago he first draped it around her thin shoulders, both of them huddling under the stars, him pressing a chaste kiss on her cheek.
“Grace,” he tried again now with the jacket at arm’s length: “Here, take this. It’s freezing.”  
“No thanks, I’m fine.” She replied evenly, a sharp breath of cold air rose into the dark.
He refused to plead.  “Okay, suit yourself.  But wake me up later, alright?  Ellie’s exhausted and I’ll take her turn.”
“Whatever,” her eyes narrowing, “I’ll do the whole night.”  She’d worked 100-hour call weeks for three years throughout a malignant residency program.  She could survive the chill and long hard hours, even loneliness.  She wasn’t ready to endure the nearness of Joel.   
The following day they trekked back to Jackson and helped restock the community pantry and clinic stash, carefully lining the dusty jars and bottles on the shelves.  Tommy and Maria greeted them, initially not noticing how Grace and Joel barely regarded one another.
“We’ve got dinner ready for y’all,” Maria said.  “Grace - it’s the fancified top ramen recipe you shared - poached egg and chashu pork slices. Come over before you head back to your place. You must be starving.” 
Grace winced. She was famished, but found herself more exhausted than hungry, and just wanted to be alone.
She smiled wanly at Maria: “Thanks so much, but I’m gonna head back. I’m sorry. I’ll see you around?”  She turned on her heels to walk away before she could catch Tommy looking questioningly at his brother.
When she reached her house, she closed the door behind her, slumped to the floor, and sobbed.
___
Grace used to have a post-call ritual.  Riding the post-call high before crashing into the post-call delirium, she’d take a luxurious hot shower so long the mirrors would steam and the fresh gardenia scented soap perfumed the bedroom.  She’d pop in the Before Sunrise DVD and lounge with a Pinot from Walla Walla or Dundee.  While the leftover spaghetti was reheating in the microwave, she’d momentarily debate calling the nurses station to make sure she’d placed that PRN order for trazodone.  
 That was then. Now it was midnight. She did indulge in a warm shower and scrubbed away the grime from the terrible-no-good-two-week expedition. She even allowed herself a bigger dollop of shampoo than usual, and a squirt of travel-sized conditioner she’d saved for rare occasions.  She combed her wet hair and let it air dry and pulled the oversized Lollapalooza t-shirt over her head, the hardwood floors creaking beneath her bare feet.  This tee - thinned over multiple washes with red block letters now a pale pink - was one of three items she still possessed from Before.  
1992, Shoreline.  Converse sneakers indented the muddy grass.  Amps blaring as a chord from an electric guitar revved up the crowd, two teens yelling at each other.
LAUREN!  This is way too big!
That’s all they had left!  Just take one - it can be a pajama top!
Grace decided to make herself an old-fashioned. The range in her kitchen was temperamental. After repeatedly turning the knob click click click and click click click and click click click with no burst of a purple flame, she finally resorted to striking a match against the black grate to light her stove.   
She prepared simple syrup to mix with the whiskey she borrowed from Tommy. Equal parts sugar and water, foam swirling in liquid amber in a pot. She wished she’d had Angostura bitters, but the unspoiled orange would have to do. She was pressing a blade against the pebbled skin to peel the rind when she heard a loud knock at the front.  
Wiping her hands quickly, she peered out the window and saw him standing on her porch.  She imagined real-Lauren, the ultimate wingwoman, whistling at the sight of a broad-shouldered dark, handsome stranger showing up at Grace’s doorstep, his hair slicked back, the green flannel somehow bringing out the glint of grey in his scruffy beard.  Almost resentful he cleaned up better than she did, Grace exhaled loudly and attempted a pep talk: Keep it together, don’t fucking cry.
She opened the door.  She held his gaze and found his brown eyes softening. 
“What is it, Joel?”  She cleared her throat, trying not to let her voice tremble. “What do you want from me?”
He stepped forward and leaned down to kiss her, one hand cupping her cheek and the other around her waist, and only when he crossed the threshold did she finally pull her mouth from his, breathless.  She looked up at him and stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck, her lips meeting his for a more urgent, bruising, hungry kiss.  Tangled, they stumbled into the other room, she led him to the kitchen chair before climbing on top of him, his jeans scraping against the back of her bare thighs.  It wasn’t until she nearly forgot about the concoction simmering on the stove, the syrup thickening into a caramel, that she realized that was the only answer he gave her.   
_____
“This used to be some old boyfriend’s?”  Lying on the edge of her bed, Joel reached down to the floor with one arm to pick up the shirt to hand it to her.  
“Um, no,”  Grace replied, not meaning for the emphasis to sound so harsh, “It’s mine.  I actually went, believe it or not.”  She bunched up the tee before throwing it into the corner across the room.
“I don’t recall them letting little kids into Lollapalooza,”  he teased.
“I was 15, Joel,” she bristled.  “Definitely not little.”
“Figured you were younger.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”  She plopped her head down onto a pillow and turned away from him.  
“You don’t disappoint.”  He wrapped an arm around her waist, interlocking his fingers with hers, squeezing her palm.  
���Sure, whatever.”  She pulled the covers over her breasts and nestled her back against his chest, closing her eyes.  He kissed her neck and shoulder before shifting his weight and rolling onto his back.  She heard him take a deep breath.
“What a lineup that year,” he whispered, staring at the ceiling.  “Tess loved those bands.”
Surprised, Grace opened her eyes and laid still on her side, slowly smiling to herself: “Yeah?  She had great taste.” 
20 notes · View notes
cherryfemm · 1 day
Text
Welcome to Merston High
Chapter two - Black hearse
The masterlist for all current chapters is pinned on my page 💗
Tumblr media
Frankie sat stiffly in the scratched leather seats of the strangly long car. The back of it had this carvern of empty space, filled with only a few cardboard boxes with paperwork and files in them. It was so big you could have probably fit a single bed in it and go to sleep comfortably. Headmistress Bloodgood stared straight at the pot hole filled road ahead of them, not glancing to Frankie even once. They stared down at their scarred and slightly mangled hands.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. On the left.
One. Two. Three. Four. On the right.
They counted the digits on each hand. An asymmetrical display of fingers. Frankie fortunately had both thumbs though. Their father must have ran out when it came to fingers.
Frankie couldn't work out what the Headmistress was. She looked so human and yet seemed so unfazed by their horrific appearance. Her black hair was neatly tied into a bun at the back of her head. She had a long slender neck that poked out of her coats high neckline. Her eyes were a lively blue colour. Her skin, while pale still resembled human flesh, just like their fathers. If the Headmistress was human then why was she taking someone like Frankie to a school presumably filled with other monstrosities.
"I've been asking your father to work for me for years, although I'm always happy for new blood, making you wasn't what I was expecting," The lady chuckled still not moving her eyes. "You are quite the marvel though aren't you?"
Frankie stared out of the window, seeing nothing but leafless autumn trees. They clutched the space where their heart should've been beating and felt nothing. They were like those trees, alive but also dead. Frankie's understanding of humans was very little but they still knew that the heart kept the body going. Without a working heart their body shouldn't be able to move.
"I guess biologically so," They huffed. "But as a person I don't know what I am"
Bloodgood, while still looking at the road emoted a feeling of sympathy. "Hopefully you'll find out who you are," She smiled. "There's so many other students just like you, some were born into human towns, and were chased out and others have never even seen a human before, you all start from different places but you will hopefully reach the same finishline,"
Frankie felt a pulling feeling in their chest, which should've been impossible. "Are all the students exactly like me? Are they also sewn together?"
Bloodgood scowled before putting on a smile. "Actually I haven't seen anyone quite like you in a LONG time," She emphasised. "We boast quite a diverse array of monsters; vampires, werewolves and zombies, which are a little similar to you but not quite,"
"Zombies?" Frankie inquired.
"Zombies in reality aren't exactly how the humans portray them, but thats the case with most of us" Bloodgood put hurt into her words. "We don't know what exactly keeps a zombie from dying like a human, most zombies can't even remember their lives before they wake up again, their bodies decay but still hang on,"
Frankie didn't really know what it meant to die, but then again they barely grasped what it meant to be alive. Being alive for Frankie meant being hooked up to a car battery every night before they blacked out.
"There's good and bad in everyone Frankie, its just a shame most humans only see our baring teeth" Bloodgood sighed. "People are scared of what they don't understand, it's an instinct we need to unlearn,"
Frankie felt an awful feeling of being pulled into reality. Life wasn't just flirting with boys and flicking through magazines. People out there didn't know Frankie and yet hated them just for who they were. The very principle of their being threatened a group of people they had never met. Frankie gripped the plaid skirt their father had laid out on their bed this morning. Biting their tongue out of pure terror.
"It's my job to keep you safe, at least while you're at school," She placed a hand on Frankie's shoulder briefly. "I won't let anyone put a finger on you, any of you, all of my pupils are like my own children,"
Frankie loosened their grip. The car approached a large purple bricked building. It had massive pillars shooting into the grey clouds like spears. The windows were stained glass of figures looking up to the sky. The figures were all different heights, colours, and dramatically different physical features. Some with massive ears, others with fish like fins and others seemily floating off of the ground. The schools courtyard was empty only trash rolling around. A massive statue of a headless man riding a horse was the centrepiece of the schools fountain.
Bloodgood stepped out of the car a walked over to Frankie's door. Opening the door Frankie cautiously stepped out and looked at their surroundings. Birds chirped and squirrels ran around and up trees. With an arm linked with Frankie's Bloodgood guided them to the schools entrance. It was a large wooden door with stone gargoyle heads on each side. Not real gargoyles of course. Bloodgood pushed the door and with a creak they slammed open wide. The hallways were vast and twisted off and up staircases. The walls were lined with paintings of all different kinds of monsters. A large painting hung at the end of the entrance. In the painting was Bloodgood, a tall dark skinned man with a twirly mustache and a girl with a copper like skin tone and large boots. It was almost like a family portrait.
"Let's go to my office, we can go over your schedule for the day" Bloodgood ushered Frankie into the direction of her office.
5 notes · View notes
Text
a letter I’ll never send-
Hey [Redacted].
I wore out those black jeans today. They don’t fit over my hips anymore. I stopped weighing myself ages ago- but I’m a good twenty heavier than the last time I saw you. I cried, like, a lot over it. It’s a hard transition for some reason, but I’m happier than I’ve been in a long while, at least most of the time.
Y’know you were good to me in a lot of ways. You took an interest in my interests - you were the only partner I felt I could show my real gender too (I still remember you calling me your big strong man, calling me he when no one else would’ve dared, and that was euphoria there, the genuine joy of nblnb) - you cared about my pain, even. But at the end of the day it always came back to you. Your problems your interests your damage. I could never be big around you because you had to be bigger. If I was in pain you had to be the knight in shining armor - even when I didn’t need help. Even literally, you wanted to whittle me away like your anorexia had done to you, and for your information 120 wasn’t me being heavy, it was me being underweight and sick, even if I was “the heaviest girl you ever dated”. I wonder often what you would think of me now. I chopped my hair, pierced my nose and got four more in my ears - I picked up sailing again (I remember wanting to cry on the way to your house, knowing my friends were out there in the wind and waves), I even got a tattoo, to remind myself how far I’ve come. I gave up trying to be smaller in every way to fit someone else’s ideal. You taught me what to look out for - that’s one thing you were good for. Becoming an example of what to avoid. I pity you, nowadays, rather that idolize. You were - and I bet still are - a flawed, flawed person. You hurt me in ways nobody has ever hurt me before - you abused me, degraded me, sexualized my existence and tried to force me into place, below you, always below you. I could never have space for my own wishes, wants, desires. I resented you. I still do. I hate what you did to me, hate what you made of me, the way you carved away my innocence and made me both terrified and feral, rending peace from my soul and plunging me into a raging sea of fear. I’m still clawing my way out of the niche you created for me to live in. I know I am braver, stronger, and kinder than you will ever be. I am not perfect, but I am not the damaged goods you made of me.
Yeah, it’s hard. You haunt the hallways of my brain, whispering insults and trying to drown out my own voice in the hard moments. We had beautiful moments together, yknow? And maybe sometimes I miss it - but I don’t miss you. I miss the flea market, and the peace of nature walks, and lying in a hammock under the stars, but I don’t miss the ugly ball of shame and anxiety every time you dragged me into your room, the fear I felt when I entered your house and heard your awful mother begin to yell. The horror in my heart when your hands began to wander. Vividly I recall the darkness of your room that night I had the bad high. When you laid me on your bed and I felt like a child who needed to flee and you kissed me and I said no, and you sucked my neck as I pushed you off, bleary and uncoordinated as I tried to escape but couldn’t quite stay awake or aware and you suffocated me with kisses. The hands around my neck all those times you fucked me, hands over my mouth as my lungs screamed to say no. I didn’t have a choice. I’d seen your rages, the horrible fits you would throw, the tantrums I’d soothed many times over as you begged me not to leave, to love you, to do ask you asked of me. I was terrified. I covered the hickeys with concealer in your bathroom.
I still get scared I’ll see you at the cardiologist. When I’m at our old school, visiting my friends, I worry I’ll see you - but I know you have nothing left there. Because you weren’t a good person. And people knew that. It’s no wonder you had no friends - you were a black hole of self righteousness and rage, and you pulled the light right out of the room.
It shouldn’t have taken that many no’s for you to stop, you know. That’s assault too. Cooney held me as I cried last time I was at the theater because the echo of fear lingered, haunting that stairwell when you dragged me away from my friends and my responsibilities because you wanted a quick fuck. I hated you. I hated how everyone saw me because no wasn’t an answer I could give.
And we had our beautiful moments. We had our fun. But I’d trade it in a heartbeat for someone who never treated me the way you did. There is more to life than sex. There is more to life than grades and self-flagellation. You’re not the center of the cosmos, you are not some genius send to earth by God, you were a broken boy who refused to heal and chose to take it out on others who never asked for it. I wasn’t a perfect partner - I wanted to hurt you, there in the end, I wanted you to feel every ounce of shame and pain and anxiety you caused me, so of course I told you I’d take another man over you if he showed any interest. It didn’t even have to be true. I just wanted you to feel a fraction of the hell you caused me. I wanted you to understand how terrible you made me feel, how totally you had ruined my life.
But you’ll get your dues in the end. You’ll cause your own downfall - I’m sure of it. Maybe someday, you’ll be in a dead end job you hate and have to write an article about me living the dream and discovering dinosaurs. And you’ll realize you’re only worth what you work for and what you’ve earned - not what you believe you deserve because the gods dealt you a shitty hand. The world does not owe you anything for the abuse. It owes me nothing for the pain I’ll never escape or the trauma I’ve gained. It’s not about owing at all. I put good out into the universe, and hope maybe someone else will have a better day for it, and that makes me feel full and satisfied . You put others down to build yourself up, and someday that’s how you’ll starve yourself of anything real and good and true in the world. But maybe you’d want that. As for me, I’ll grow fat and happy and wear out my jeans, and I’ll thrive on love and laughter and genuine connection; and maybe, you’ll get the body of your dreams. A skeleton: rotted, cold and alone, not even an ounce of fat left on your bones.
Good bye and good riddance, [Redacted]. May our paths never cross. Go to therapy, stay single. Eat more food - this time, with your mouth closed.
- Moonlight
2 notes · View notes
trashbag-baby666 · 5 months
Note
yoo webgott sickfic for the covid? 😔😔
I got the perfect idea for this one 🫶🏻.
Stuck In It With You-Webgott
Summary: Joe tests positive for covid along with Web. Web is on a mission to heal him until roles reverse.
WC: 1,026
C/W: Mentions of Covid and mild homophobia via Webs parents.
BofB Masterlist!
Request Prompt List!
Tumblr media
"Fuck!" Is the first thing Web heard on this beautiful Saturday morning.
Lieb came out of the bedroom coughing and his mouth open, his breath hot.
“I can't fuckin' breathe." Joe groaned, heading right over to the drawer with all the cold medicine and over the counter pain drugs.
“Take a covid test," Web hummed, backing up from where Joe was standing, taking out the Dayquil and swallowing it dry.
“Web, I don't have covid." Joe looked at Web like he was an idiot and not a Harvard graduate.
“You had a sore throat last night and Joe and George both have it." Web said, "There's some tests in there, go in the bathroom and take it." David didn't have the patience to deal with Joe's attitude this morning. They were hosting dinner for his parents and Joe being sick wasn't an option.
His parents had far too high standards held for him, one of those being that Joe was a phase. Never would they accept that David was gay and nothing was going to change that. It was just part of them and Web had learned to deal with it.
Now, Joe on the other hand...it was always tough for him to accept that, Webs parents were like that. Joe had grown up with gay dads and had heard all the bullshit of people's homophobia and hate.
“Fuck!" Joe groaned loudly from the bathroom, “It's positive."
“Should I take one? I feel fine but you never know." Web sighed, shifting his weight.
“Yeah you should." Joe responded. Last night the two of them had an intense four rounds of sex. So confidently Liebs tongue touched every part of Web's body and certainly was in his mouth as well.
David opened the drawer and took out the rectangular box and dumped its contents onto the granite countertop.
He got everything sorted out and swabbed his nose then put the swab on the test. It took nearly 30 seconds before the two red lines appeared on the test.
"I'm positive too." Web sighed looking down at the test.
Web heard the bathroom door lock unlock and Lieb came out. He tossed the test in the trash and washed his hands.
“Well at least we can be sick together, David." Lieb shook his head as he dried his hands moving onto the coffee pot and grabbing out his favorite mug.
“Yeah but now I have to tell my parents." Webs family was difficult dealing with they were Covid deniers and thought David was ridiculous for getting vaccinated against covid as well.
That Joe wasn't some radical leftist, his parents were both a pain to deal with.
“Well let's rip the bandaid off now." Lieb handed Web his phone from where it laid on the counter. Web rolled his eyes, taking his phone from Lieb and calling his mom.
"Hey mom," Web said in a nervous tone as his mother picked up. Joe watched as Web leaned against the counter, "So Joe and I tested positive for Covid, so we're going to have to reschedule our dinner."
“No, I'm fine mom I promise." Web sighed as his mother did the thing she always did.
Joe shook his head walking out of the kitchen. He didn't want to listen to him talk with his mom right now. She hated Joe, they both would find any excuse to talk poorly about him. Joe went into the bedroom ripping the sheets off to wash the bedding so they could have fresh sheets.
Joe was loading the comforter and sheets into the washer when Web came down the hall. "What'd she say?" Joe asked as he pushed start.
“She's upset, but it's going to be okay." David sighed and opened up the other closet in the hall taking out a clean set of dark gray sheets. 
“Of course she's mad," Joe followed Web into their room and took one corner of the fitted sheet.
"She didn't say it was your fault this time." David shook his head, he felt bad that his mom absolutely could not stand Joe.
"Surprise, surprise." Lieb put their pillows back on the bed. Web grabbed the comforter from the closet and came over to the bed.
"You should go back to sleep, you look like shit." Web crossed his arms.
"But I wanna shower with you," Lieb frowned.
"Maybe later, Joe. But no offense, you look like shit."
It was true, Joe had dark bags under his eyes. His throat was swollen and his sinuses were congested.
Joe rolled his eyes and laid back down in the king sized bed.
"Hey, Joe, wake up, you need to eat something." Web kept his voice barely above a whisper as he woke up his husband.
"What?" Joe felt like he could barely open his eyes as he felt the tickle in his throat and started coughing.
"Here," David handed him a wad of tissues as Joe spit up some mucus and took a drink of his water.
"I also made you some chicken noodle soup." Web handed the bowl to Joe after he got himself sat up.
"What about you? You're also sick, liebling you need to rest too." Joe patted the spot on the bed next to him.
"But I don't really feel sick." He sat on the spot next to Joe leaning into his touch as he pressed the back of his hand to his forehead.
"Jesus, you're burning up. I'm gonna go get the thermometer." He set the blue ceramic bowl on the nightstand and disappeared into the bathroom. David sighed, accepting defeat and getting into the bed.
Joe came back out with the thermometer and handed it to Web. He tucked it under his tongue and cringed after a moment as the screen flashed red as it beeped.
"101!" Joe sighed, shaking his head and returning to the bathroom. Web didn't like when he felt like Joe had to take care of him. His parents always made sure to make sure he felt bad when he had to ask for help.
"Here take these." Joe put the Tylenol in Web's hand, "They'll reduce your fever."
6 notes · View notes
pacinglikeghosts · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
does he know you’re out (and i want you so bad?)
fruity four | fake dating au | bonus scenes
per request, here are the scenes i cut from chapter ten! the first is a scene with mike, nancy, and robin, and the second is one with mostly eddie and steve, but wayne also pops up at the end! the total word count for these two scenes is around 2k, so settle in and enjoy! the ronance and mike scene takes place right after they enter nancy's room, and the steddie scene is the morning after the chapter takes place.
i. remember the words said, and your little brother's favorite songs (mike, nancy, and robin)
“You two have fun with your boyfriends?” Robin mocked in a high-pitched voice before bursting into another fit of laughter. “God, are we really that good at this whole thing? And what does she think those sleepovers are?”
Nancy smiled, kicking off her sneakers and joining Robin on the bed. “I don’t think she really cares, given everything…as long as I’m home by our agreed time and don’t get pregnant or die or something,” she shrugged. 
“Like I said,” Robin said, scooching closer to her on the floral quilt. “That won’t be a problem. The pregnancy. Not death. I can’t promise that, especially given our track record with things like this, but as long as you don’t cheat on me, which I hope you don’t, because we just started dating and that would totally fucking suck—“ 
Nancy opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a sharp knock on her door. “I’ll grab that, it’s probably just my mom making sure we don’t want something to eat or telling us to quiet down,” she smiled, pressing a kiss to Robin’s cheek and opening the door to find Mike standing in the doorway. “What do you want?” 
“Can you shut the hell–ew, Nance, can you put a sweater on or something, I don’t need to think about you and Eddie making out in my own house,” Mike grimaced, giving his sister a once-over. 
Nancy rolled her eyes. “This isn’t your house, you might as well be a freeloader,” she commented. 
“Well, can you shut the hell up? Some of us try to get to sleep at a decent hour.” 
She scoffed, leaning against the doorframe. “Where was this respect for others the other night when you spent the entire night talking to Dustin about the campaign you’re planning to do when Will gets back? Or last week, when you all were on the radio talking about what you’re going to do when your group is officially completed and the Byers are home for good?”
“Payback for all those hours you’d stay on the phone until two in the morning talking to Jonathan about all your stupid shit!” Mike shot back, his gaze drifting from his sister to the other girl occupying Nancy’s bedroom. He slowly began to take in the entire scene–Robin leaning against Nancy with her hand in the back pocket of Nancy’s shorts, her blatantly obvious lovesick expression as she stared at the back of Nancy’s head, the matching hickeys, the lip gloss stain on Robin’s freckled cheek–before his jaw dropped. “You–” 
Nancy grabbed her brother by the arm, dragging him into her room and shutting the door behind them. “Choose your next words carefully, Michael,” she warned. 
“You–are you two cheating on Eddie and Steve?” he asked. 
God, for a boy who was so smart he could be pretty damn oblivious, Nancy thought as she sat on the bed. Robin’s hand neatly placed itself on top of Nancy’s, their fingers intertwining as Nancy turned her attention back to Mike. “No! Eddie and I…and Steve and Robin…were never a thing. I mean, not a real thing. We were all pretending to date. Just because…Robin had a family thing and her family’s full of assholes, and I didn’t want to deal with people questioning me about Jonathan all summer when we mutually broke up,” she explained cautiously, attempting to read her brother’s body language. She trusted Mike, but it wasn’t exactly like they were in an accepting time or place, either. News outlets criminalized and demonized people like Robin and Eddie–and to some extent Nancy and Steve–almost every time Nancy picked up a paper or turned on the news, and if word got out about the four, it could be catastrophic. 
“So, you’re together?” he asked. 
Nancy looked to Robin for approval on telling Mike, only to receive a small nod. “If you tell anyone, especially Mom and Dad, I’ll kill you in your sleep, got it?” she threatened. “That means absolutely no one. Not El, or Will, or anyone else in your group. The only people that know are you, Steve, Eddie, and Jonathan knows I like Robin and everything was a lie, so I should tell him when he gets home.” 
“Wait, what? You told Jonathan before you told me?” Robin interjected, only to be waved off by Nancy with a we’ll talk later expression. 
Mike nodded, a bit of fear in his eyes. “Got it,” he agreed. “Hey, Nance?” 
“Yeah?” Nancy asked as she leaned against Robin and placed her head on her shoulder. 
He softened, leaning against her desk. “I’m happy for you, I guess…plus, Robin’s a lot better than you dating the guy I see as a kind of big brother, so like, that’s a plus,” he said, messing with a pencil on Nancy’s desk. “How does this work, though? Do Steve and Jonathan not matter, do you just like girls, or what? I need to know what to expect.”
“Steve and Jonathan absolutely still matter. I like guys, and I liked them both, and I like girls. You don’t need to expect anything, because my love life doesn’t concern you,” she explained, rolling off the bed with a bit of protest from Robin. “Now, come here,” she encouraged, holding her arms out for a hug. 
“I’m fifteen, I’m not giving you a hug,” he protested with a disgusted face. 
Nancy rolled her eyes. “Just hug me, Mike,” she insisted. Begrudgingly, Mike gave in and wrapped his arms around Nancy’s neck as she wrapped hers around his midsection, despite the fact that he was at least four inches taller than her. The two stayed in their embrace for a few moments, neither one wanting to break from the well-needed display of sibling affection. “God…you’re getting too damn tall..we’ll be quiet, I promise. Goodnight.” 
“‘Night, Nance…you too, Robin,” Mike called, opening the door and heading out to the hall to his room. “Oh, can we use your discount now, Robin? Steve won’t let us use his, even though Max and Dustin get free–”
“Nope, sorry kid! Goodnight!” Robin called, her eyes following Nancy as the brunette shut the door behind her brother and made her way back to the bed. 
Nancy laid back down on the bed, pressing a kiss to Robin’s nose. “So, where were we?”
ii. have i known you twenty seconds, or twenty years? (steve, eddie, and wayne)
By the time Steve eventually pulled himself from sleep and opened his eyes, the morning sunshine was streaming through what little windowspace there was in the room. It took him a moment to come into where he was–not his room, or curled up on Robin’s tiny bed, but instead in Eddie Munson’s bedroom, in Eddie Munson’s bed. 
Which meant everything from last night—the kisses, the end of their crafted relationships, the clean sheets, the pancakes for dinner, and falling asleep wrapped up with Eddie—was real, and not some sick dream Steve made up to help fight back nightmares. 
“Mm..’morning,” he grumbled with his voice still thick with sleep, rolling over only to find the bed empty. Steve sat up, messing with his hair to tame the bed head, only to see Eddie sitting on the floor, guitar in his lap. 
“Morning, sunshine,” Eddie grinned, looking up from his guitar. “Didn’t wake you, did I?” 
Steve shook his head, smiling to himself. “No, I woke up on my own. What time is it?”
“Eight-thirty,” Eddie replied simply, twisting his frizzy curls up before letting them fall down his back like the chocolate fountains Steve had seen at his parents’ fancy parties. “So, we had breakfast for dinner, should we have dinner for breakfast?” 
Steve laughed, pulling himself out of the bed to sit on the edge. “I don’t think you have the food for that, Eds,” he joked. “But we can have pancakes again? Or I can go take a few eggs from Max and make us that?” 
“Pancakes are just fine, baby.” 
The pet name sent a warm fuzzy feeling throughout Steve’s entire body. He knew Eddie was no stranger to pet names, especially with him, but being called ‘baby’ had a certain element of formality. As if to say, yes, you are my baby, Steve Harrington, even if you don’t know it fully yet, and Steve loved it so goddamn much. After all, Eddie was the first person he dated to actually use them on him, and it just felt so…nice. Like he was wanted. 
“I’ll go get started on them…you can finish whatever you’re working on,” Steve smiled, rising from the bed to press a kiss to Eddie’s forehead before grabbing his jeans from the night before. 
Eddie glanced up through his bangs, a coy grin on his face. “Leaving so soon?” he teased, leaning over to grab a pair of clean sweatpants from his drawer and tossing them to his boyfriend. “That’ll be better, hm?” 
“Thanks,” Steve nodded, exchanging the denim for the soft, worn cotton of the sweatpants before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 
With an ABBA record he found tucked in the back corner of Eddie’s collection (who knew Eddie “The Freak” Munson, loud and proud metalhead, was a secret ABBA fan?) playing through the stereo, Steve began to make pancakes yet again, humming along to the upbeat electric melody of “Angeleyes” and dancing around the trailer’s cramped kitchen. He’d hardly noticed Eddie come into the living space, letting the song transition into a rather melodramatic performance of “The King Has Lost His Crown” as the pancakes cooked on the pan. 
“Having fun there, Harrington?” Eddie asked without an ounce of malice. 
Steve jumped slightly, his spatula slipping from his hand. “God, Eds, when did you get there?” he asked. “And I didn’t know you were an ABBA fan.”
“Long enough to watch your one man performance,” Eddie smiled. “And I’m not—that’s Wheeler’s, she—fuck, you caught me, goddamnit.” 
Steve grinned, moving the pan off the heat as he plated a few fully cooked pancakes. “Come dance with me, then.” 
“No fucking way,” Eddie scoffed, but let Steve sweep him up and into a messy dance for the next song, then the next, and the next until the pancakes were long forgotten. “You’re such a loser.” 
“Look who’s talking,” Steve smiled, leaning in to kiss Eddie as the door to the trailer flew open and the two pushed apart. 
“Hey, Ed, I’m home, I’m gonna—oh, well, I see you’re already up and at it…” Wayne called, stopping not two feet from where he entered when he saw his nephew and Steve Harrington standing questionably close together in the living room of his home. The same Steve Harrington that tossed around homophobic slurs like they were part of the normal vernacular, the same Steve Harrington that made Eddie’s life a living hell for most of high school. And yet, now he stood in the Munson trailer, mere seconds away from making out with Eddie himself. “So, what’s going on here?” 
Steve's face filled with panic, shifting away from Eddie even more. “Nothing, sir, we were just—“ he forced out, messing with his hair the same way he always did when he got stressed out. 
“Stevie, it’s fine, Wayne…he knows. He’s fine with it,” Eddie explained in a low voice, taking Steve’s hand before he could move to pull through his hair again. “I guess we’re…I mean…shit, yeah, we’re dating. We’ve been hanging out since Spring Break when Harrington here saved my ass, and it only took us until now because he was pretending to date Robin Buckley, and I was faking that whole shit with Wheeler,” he turned to his uncle, offering the elder Munson a bit of an explanation. 
Wayne nodded slowly, as if trying to process all of the information. “A’ight…well…you two be safe now,” he said before making his way down the hall. “I’m gonna go get food later, make up a list of what we need!”
“Yeah!” Eddie called back, as Steve leaned back against the counter and let out a sigh. “Expected the worst or something?” 
Steve laughed dryly, the color returning to his cheeks. “Yeah, something like that…but it’s cool that he’s so good about…you know,” he said with a shrug before looking at the pile of pancakes that were completely untouched. “So, how about those pancakes?” 
Eddie nodded, leaning against the counter to press the long-awaited kiss to Steve’s lips. “Don’t mind if I do.”
layout credits to bunivys !
if you liked what you read, you can...
read the latest chapter!
OR: start from the beginning!
39 notes · View notes