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cosmal · 2 years

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BUTTERCUP — send me a lyric prompt + a character and i’ll write a blurb. fluff smut or angst.

"i wasted so much time on people who reminded me of you" with remus or steve? 🫶🏽

𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 — 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

summary — steve doesn’t know how to respond when you tell him you love him. you ignore him for a month.

warnings/tags — fem!reader, she/her pronouns, sad!reader, angst, happy ending

wc — 1.4k

Steve, in his stupid mind, really didn’t think you’d care that much if you saw him off in the corner of the party, dancing with a girl he couldn’t even remember the name of. He didn’t even know you’d be there.

But, jesus fucking christ, did the look on your face as you turned to leave the room not break his heart in two.

You’re but a blur as you exit out onto the street, past drunken strangers and designated drivers. Steve feels dizzy running this fast, but he’s determined to reach you before you slip away.

“Y/N!” he calls, tripping on red cups and ping pong balls. “Y/N, wait! I need to talk to you!” Steve has never sounded this desperate in his life, not even that one time at the Byer’s house when he needed to see Nancy.

He doesn’t care one bit. He’s desperate to talk to you.

He’s sure the shock is written all over his face when you actually do stop and turn to look at him. He doesn’t even notice it at first and almost slams right into you. The heel of your sneaker slips backwards off the kerb and Steve has to reach out to grab your elbow to stop you from falling onto your back.

The time he has to stop you from falling is quick. Though the time it takes you to pull his arm off you is quicker.

The first thing he notices now the sun has gone down is how cold it’s gotten. The night air bites at his bare skin and his cheeks almost immediately flush with heat to beat the temperature. The second thing he notices is how you’ve got to be freezing. You’ve clearly forgotten your jacket like always and Steve knows the exact answer he’d get if he went to offer his own.

Probably something like, I’m not cold, Steve. Or, I’ll be fine.

You’re both panting in tandem, chests heaving through puffs of cold fog that exasperate past your lips. Your arms come up to shield yourself. Steve wishes they were his own. He also hopes it’s because you’re cold, not because he’s chased you out onto the street.

“Where have you been?” When Steve had been imagining all the things he’d say the next time he saw you, that’s the worst of them.

“Where have I been?” you snort. You clearly think it’s stupid too.

“You’ve been gone for an entire month.” Steve doesn’t mean to sound so overbearing, but it has been 29 whole days since he’s seen you last. Since he made you cry and you stormed out of his house. The sound of your sobs as you slammed his front door are still seared into his brain.

“Steve, I have something to tell you,” you’d said. He’d never seen you so nervous in his life. And he’d seen you tell your Dad you crashed his car.

“Shoot,” he’d replied. Smiled like always. “Can’t be that bad.”

You’d winced. “You have to promise that you’ll still love me. That we’ll still be friends.”

Steve’s smile had then faded. “Okay, you’re scaring me.”

“Sorry, Steve. Just really wasn’t up to seeing you.” Your voice is bitter and stings more than the wind.

The gravel of the road crunches under your shoes and Steve wants to tell you to get off the road. But he was the one who chased you out here anyways, so you’d definitely just get mad.

“Why?”

Your bitter smile only worsens and Steve feels so stupid he has to bite his tongue and slam his eyes shut.

“Why? Steve if you chased me out here to be fucking cruel, I don’t want to hear it.” He opens his eyes and watches as your frown deepens. Then, your voice grows quiet, “I don’t think I could handle it.”

“I have feelings for you, Steve.” When Steve hadn’t said anything like you hadn’t expected him to, you freaked out. “I’m sorry. I really am. I’ve been trying to figure all this out for the past few weeks and I can't. I thought it was just some weird phase or something. But- but I do really like you and if I’ve ruined everything, then…”

Your panic only worsened when Steve still said nothing. His face was void of anything and your eyes brimmed with hot tears, “…I’m sorry.”

Clearly when you panic, you ramble. When Steve panics, he can’t force a single word past his lips. He wished he had Robin’s ability to overshare in that moment.

“I want to explain some things to you,” he swallows and raises a hand to scratch too roughly at his cheek. Palming over his light stubble and down his neck.

“I think I understand everything pretty clearly. I don’t need you to rub salt into my wound.” You scratch at your own arms and Steve wants to reach out to stop you.

“No, I want to apologise.”

“There’s nothing to apologise for.”

“No, I panicked when you told me everything last month.” It’s not a strong start but you wait patiently for him to finish, “I was a coward and I didn’t know what to say.”

You raise your head to gesture towards the house, “You seemed pretty happy in there, Steve. Don’t act like you're worse off without me.”

Steve’s eyes widen, “Who, her?” He blinks slowly, “She was no one, she was just…”

“Just what, Steve?”

The space between you only grows and Steve thinks you genuinely don’t understand it. He’s determined not to stuff up again.

His shoulders slump forward, “I don’t know. I thought I genuinely messed up with you. I didn’t say anything to you that afternoon and I thought you’d never want to see me again. I know I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

Steve watches the moonlight shine against your eyes when they fill with tears. He doesn’t see them stopping when he says, “I thought I could get over you through other people.”

“And you just thought that was it? That’s all it took for you to give up? You spent the entire month with other people and you didn't even come to explain anything to me?” Your tears have now breached your eyelids and roll down the hills of your cheeks. You don’t move to wipe them away where they pool at your chin and splash onto your shirt.

“I know. I’ve really fucked up.” He turns his head to face the gravel when he murmurs and you struggle to hear him over your sniffles and gasps. “I wasted too much time with people who weren’t you.”

You almost hold your breath to keep the worst of your tears at bay, though it only has your head pounding. “Was that all you wanted to tell me?” you sniffle.

Steve catches your gaze and you both stop, “No.” He shakes his head. “No. I wanted to tell you I feel the same way.”

You blink and more tears roll down your face.Over your trembling lips where you lick them away. “What?”

“I like you too. Lots. It’s ridiculous.” he wants to smile but it feels like an injustice to your upset face.

You shake your head, “Don’t. Don’t lie to me just because I’m crying.”

He steps forward and he thinks if you weren’t so close to the road you’d step back to miss him. “I’m not. I’d never lie to you. Ever.”

“Really?” you sniffle. You want to sound less upset but you just sound pathetic. Steve wants to kiss you silly. Like he always does.

“Always have.”

Your hands flex at your side and he reaches out to grab one. It’s cold and almost stings against the palm of his hand. You surprisingly let him take it and then let him pull you into his side. Not too close that you’d be uncomfortable, just so your shoulders touch.

“So, you really do like me as well?” you ask,hopefully. Nudging the rubber of your shoe into his sneaker. You feel too sheepish, like you weren’t bubbling with anger only five minutes ago.

“Yes.” He squeezes your hand so hard he almost forgets his own strength. “I do. So, so much. And I’m sorry that I put you through all that just because I got scared.”

You shake your head until your hair falls over your face. “Can you just take me home? We can talk tomorrow.”

He smiles too brightly, “Yeah. F’course.”

“You can buy me food as well.” you chide, “Benny’s.”

“I’ll buy you the entire diner if you want.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you

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koolkat9 · 3 months

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Royal Red Bros Week 2024 - Day 6

@royalredbrosweek

Prompt: Getting in Trouble || Drunkenness

Rating: T

Relationship: England + Canada (implied FACE Family)

Word Count: 595

Read on AO3

One Call Away

“Arthur…”

Matthew’s small voice called across the line.

Arthur rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looking over at the clock that read 3:00 AM. “What is it, Matthew?” Arthur mumbled tiredly.

“I-I…I don’t…I mean…It was just…Please come get me…”

Matthew had always been skittish, stumbling over his words, especially when he was nervous, but this time it was different. More frantic, words running into each other.

Heart-pumping adrenaline, Arthur bolted up and ran to the door. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m coming to get you."

Fumbling with his coat and not even bothering to have his shoes fully on by the time he was out the door, he took off in the car towards the ‘friend’s’ house Matthew was supposed to be staying at.

When he arrived, he spotted Matthew at the front steps curled up, body shaking.

Parking the car, he carefully approached, taking a seat next to the trembling boy. Arthur immediately recognized the scent of alcohol. He tapped Matthew’s shoulder.

Matthew jumped revealing a red blotchy face, cheeks soaked.

“I’m sorry,” he blubbered, curling back into himself. “I didn’t think I drunk that much…I-I…”

Arthur wrapped an arm around him and gently pulled the teen against his side. Matthew broke down sobbing, face pressed into Arthur’s shoulder, gripping tightly on Arthur’s coat. Arthur rubbed his shoulder, holding him for however long Matthew needed.

When Matthew finally quieted, Arthur guided him to the car, and they set off for home. Most of the drive was quiet until Matthew finally started sobering up.

“Please don’t tell Papa,” he squeaked. “I swear it was just a few drinks…I don’t know why I reacted like–”

“Relax,” Arthur assured him, “I wasn’t going to tell him. And I trust you.”

It was quiet again. No music playing, only the engine of the car thrumming.

“You know?" Arthur started, "I used to get into a lot worse at sixteen. Never will forget my first bad drug trip. Wasn’t my last one either. Don’t suggest it. But…I didn’t have anyone to call like you did tonight. No one to turn to. I hope I never find you and Alfred in those kinds of situations, but…what I’m trying to get at is that I want you to call me when you’re scared like this, even if you made a mistake.”

Matthew didn’t say anything, forehead pressed against the window. Arthur gave him a side glance, keeping his attention more on the road. He assumed Matthew had fallen asleep.

When they finally arrived home and Arthur was getting out of the car, Matthew grabbed his arm.

“What is it?” Arthur asked.

Matthew’s eyes were wet with tears again. “Thank you…dad,” he sniffled.

“Oh love…” Arthur couldn’t help but grin. Matthew had seemed so hostile at the beginning when Arthur first started dating his father, and though by the wedding they had come to have a somewhat friendly relationship, he hadn’t thought Matthew would ever see him as a dad.

Though giving a hug in the car was awkward, Arthur couldn’t help but wrap his arm around Matthew in a half hug, kissing his temple. When they finally got out of the car, Matthew gave him a proper one, squeezing him tightly.

“I love you,” Matthew whispered into Arthur’s shoulder.

“I love you too Matthew. And I’ll always be there for you.”

Matthew started to cry quietly again, and Arthur couldn’t help but smile fondly. Some water to help sober him up and then bed, he noted. With a pat on Matthew’s back, Arthur pulled away and guided Matthew into the house.

#royalredbrosweek #royalredbrosweek2024 #hetalia #hws england #hws canada #royal red bros #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #my writing

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clumsiestgiantess · 2 months

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Day 21; write a new chapter to an old story!

It’s FINALLY time for the second part of The Disappearing Cabin!

(I don’t have the whole chapter ready yet, but I do have a preview of it)

My mouth hung open in too much shock to even be upset about my new height. Silently, I reached over and grabbed a tree branch to examine, threading the now incredibly tiny leaves between my fingers. I just kept staring, not quite able to grasp what had happened to me. “Daniella?” In a slow turn, I faced Rey. He stepped closer and I took a large step back. Confusion fell over his features and he stopped. “Are you ok?” “Do I look ok?” I asked, still dazed, but growing angrier by the minute. “Why does the world have a grudge against me? Every time I think I’ve solved a problem, it gets screwed up again! I- I can’t even get in the car! Nevermind the town or back home! This is worse than when I was small!”

“A- Alright, it’s ok Dani,” he told me gently, lifting his hands up innocently, “We can figure this out together.” “We did! We just did! I was at my own size again and now it’s gone!” I sobbed, stumbling backwards. “Look at you, you’re so small! No, no I’m huge! And now I can’t reverse it because this was our last resort!” Rey shook his head forcefully, again trying to come closer. Again, I stepped back. “There has to be a way!” “Why?” I challenged. “Why shouldn’t there be a way? If there’s a way for this to happen, and a way to make this entire cabin disappear, then why shouldn’t there be an option for you to shrink back down again?”

My panic dwindled for a moment. What Rey said made sense in a sort of nonsense way. Logically, if the place where the real cabin used to be can grow me, then… “Oh no.” Rey halted in his tracks as I looked up again. He’d been quietly trying to get closer to me while I thought. “What?” If this place is where I can grow, the other cabin is where I need to go to shrink. “I’d have to go back to the miniature cabin,” I told him numbly. “I- I think it would shrink me.” “Good, then let’s-” “I can’t get there.” Rey faltered, realizing it would be an impossible journey for me at my new size. “Well, maybe I can get it for you and bring it back? Where is it?”

A teary wheezing breath dragged itself out of my throat. My eyes began watering again. “I don’t know. It’s a- about an hour away from the boardwalk where you found me, I think.” “In which direction?” “I don’t know! I was rarely ever let out of whatever apartment I was in! I know what the view looked like from the window, but I don’t know what city it was!” Rey reached forward to try to comfort me and I stepped back again, tripping over a few gnarly bushes and falling over backwards on the ground. The impact shook handfuls of pinecones loose from the evergreens around me. They rained down as I shielded my face from them and from Rey, who rushed towards me.

He got within a foot of me before I lept upward away from him. “WOULD YOU QUIT IT?! Just leave me alone! Stop trying to fix things that can’t be fixed!” I fled the clearing and the road, tearing a path through the trees and underbrush as I ran. My insides churned awfully. When I yelled at him, Rey had scrambled away from me in shock and fear. My shadow had completely engulfed him as I stood.

What do I do? What’s going to happen to me? Everyone who sees me will be scared! Where will I go? I don’t fit anywhere anymore! At least when I was small I still had places where I fit — Rey’s pocket, the little bed he’d made on the nightstand, even the miniature before it broke! Now there’s nothing! Nothing!

I kept running; there wasn’t a thing in my path that could slow me down. Even accidentally hitting trees just caused them to topple over, and left me with only a few scratches. The scratches added up over time, though. Winded and cut up, I fell to my knees only to flinch at the pain caused by pressing my open cuts to the earth. Rolling onto my side, which wasn’t as badly cut, I finally let my tears fall. Happiness and calm seemed like such scarce things to come by ever since I walked into that damn cabin. I don’t know how long I sat there and sobbed for. It felt like Casey’s place all over again. I was helpless to do anything for myself no matter what happened to me.

A branch snapped behind me and I quickly sat up, frightened it might be a bear or mountain lion or hunter with a gun. It was Rey. I flopped back to the ground, relieved it wasn’t anything else yet angry that he was seeing me like this. He walked around to my face and I slowly sat up, knowing he’d probably want to talk. Even sitting on the ground I was a foot or so taller than him. With my head bowed, I didn’t even realize what he actually intended to do.

Hands so small they barely stretched over the length of my cheeks gently brushed against my face, guiding my head up slightly until we locked eyes with one another. “Rey, I-” His lips caressed my face before I could finish. “Don’t say anything,” he told me quietly, breath hot on my skin. His chest was still heaving — winded after running all the way here to catch up with me. “I’m going to help you, Daniella, whether you believe I can or not.” A tear or two managed to slide down my face as he spoke. “Of course I believe in you!” my voice came out whispery and thin. “Just.. not me.”

Another kiss, this time to my forehead, caused my heart to skip a beat. “I believe in you.” A shuddering breath wracked my lungs as he stepped closer and pulled as much of me to himself as he could. My eyes squeeze closed as more tears leaked out of them. Rey doesn’t let go of me until they stop. When they finally do, he releases me gently, and I take a moment to calm down and clean my face. We can figure this out together. I’ll stare at every map website until I find the streets I saw before. Vaguely, I feel the ground shift beneath me, but I don’t think anything of it until my bleary eyes open again and I’m sitting on the ground below Rey — his face a mixture of confused shock.

I’m.. my own height? I’m my own height! Jumping up from the ground, I hug Rey tightly as he laughs in surprise. “I’m back! I don’t know what happened! Maybe your kisses are magic; but whatever it is, I’m just glad it’s over!” He holds me tightly so I don’t collapse in relief. “You had me scared there!” he gasps, “Your trail of damage could’ve led anyone to you!” Frightening images of people with guns or traps following my trail as I flee from them flashed through my mind. In seconds, I’m no longer holding Rey.

I gasp as I fall to the ground. “Oof! What the-?” I’m cut off by a muffled noise and flinch as I feel something squirm beneath me. I haul myself onto my knees and gasp. Rey lays on the ground where I fell, a foot and a half long.

#oh yeah it’s sizeshifter time #hopefully it won’t be TOO long until I post the whole thing…#the long-awaited cliffhanger gets an addition that ends in another cliffhanger lol #g/t #giant/tiny #GtWAC

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asmutwriter · 1 year

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You Saved Me (Part 6)

DESCRIPTION: (Season 6) After you make the headlines about being the girl who 'miraculously beat death’ the two Winchester brothers - friends of yours - decide to look into your case

WORD COUNT: 3211

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List

WARNINGS: gun violence, blood, robbery, swearing, armed robbery, soulless Sam

DISCLAIMERS

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

A YEAR LATER

You finish your shift at work. Heading over to the school to pick up Anna and Lydia. You get out the car. Waiting for them in the playground. Making small talk with the other mums. “Hello my beautiful girls” you hug them both as they come out the classroom. “How was school today?”

“It was alright”

“It was good!” they both say in unison. You smile

“Well. I’ve had a stressful day at work today. So I was thinking we might order pizza”

“Yay!” they both exclaim. You smile. Helping them into the car as you get in. Driving home and singing to a variety of Disney songs on your trip back. You get out of your car. Seeing Anna hop out on her side.

“Give me the keys” you hear someone say behind you. You turn around. A man stands behind you. You see he’s holding a gun. Shakily pointed towards you

“Sir...”

“Your keys. Now” his eyes look at you, then the keys in your hand, then the car.

“Mum?” you hear Anna say

“Baby. Take your sister and go inside. I’ll be in in a second” you look at her, smiling but knowing fear is in your eyes. She nods, clutching her bag to her as she takes her sisters hand, quickly walking inside the house “Sir. Why don’t we think this through? I’m not going to give you my car…”

“Now!” he waves the gun, causing you to wince out

“How about I give you... 100. No, 200 bucks instead? Just put down the weapon and I’ll grab it out for you” he shakes his head

“No no no I need the car” he yells out

“Rose? Everything ok?” the man turns, pointing the gun at your neighbour

“Come closer and I’ll shoot!” he yells. You take this opportunity as the man is distracted to grab his arm. Pulling the gun away from your neighbour and aiming it at the ground

“Go!” you yell at him. The assailant turns to face you as you try and grab the gun. Trying to keep it aimed downwards as your neighbour ignores your demand. Then you hear the gunshot. That’s the first thing. Then the pain.

“Oh fuck” the guy says. Letting you go as you clutch your stomach. Coughing. You watch as the guy runs, your neighbour goes over and catches you before you fall to the floor. Helping you lie down you cough, covering your mouth you feel something wet hit it as you cough. Moving your hand away you see blood now covering it

“Shit. Oh shit” he grabs out his phone. His hands shaking as he applies pressure to your stomach. You hear him speaking as you shut your eyes. “Hello yes my neighbour has just been shot. We’re on-” then darkness.

You hear what sounds like crying. No. Sobbing. Screaming almost. You open your eyes. You’re still on the hard road but your neighbour is no longer by your side. You sit up. Looking around you see an ambulance and police cars. You then hear someone yell “Mummy!” Anna and Lydia run over to you. Completely ignoring the police officers and paramedics who try and tell them to stay back. Almost knocking you back down as they hug you. A death grip around your neck. Arms and legs wrapped around you. You hug them both back. You look at a paramedic closest to you and smile at her as she has a look of confusion and fear across her face.

“This is embarrassing. How long was I out for?”

“We thought... they told us you had died” Anna says, hugging you closer

“Don’t be silly” you exclaim.

“Serious” the paramedic says beside you “They were just on the phone to the coroner” You look as the paramedic kneels down next to you. Gently taking your wrist in her hand and looking at her watch. “Normal pulse” she lets go of your wrist and meets your eyes “Considering you were declared dead 30 minutes ago”

“What?” you practically choke

“I’d say that’s some sort of a miracle. You must have a very lucky guardian angel” you chuckle slightly, stroking Anna’s hair. You furrow your brow slightly.

“Baby one second” you gently push your children away, taking the bottom of your shirt you lift it up. Hearing a clink noise of metal falling. Blood covers your stomach but the thing that shocks you more was there was no sign of a wound. Not even a scratch. Just a very faint scar. Barely noticeable to the naked eye

“Holy fuck” you hear the paramedic mutter. You nod and let out an almost nervous chuckle

“What I was thinking” you reach for the bullet that lies on the ground. Putting your shirt down again

“Are you ok if we take you to the hospital? Just to run a couple pf procedure checks on you?” she asks. You nod. Taking the bullet and placing it in your back jean pocket. The paramedic helps you over to the ambulance.

“What about my children?”

“The police that were called will drive them to the hospital. They’ll be just behind us” you nod. Looking at them before the doors shut and you’re driven away

SAM AND DEAN POV

“Found anything?” Dean says. Motioning at Sam’s open laptop.

“Yeah actually” he turns the laptop to face his brother “Think I found us a case. A woman was shot by a random guy in front of multiple witnesses”

“That doesn’t sound like our type of thing. Just a poor unfortunate woman”

“That’s not the part that interests me. The strange part is that she was pronounced dead at the scene”

“Again. Not seeing how that’s strange. Sad, but not strange”

“What medics can’t quite explain is how thirty minutes later she was alive and well hugging her kids”

“Is there a name?”

“Yes. Sofia Smith”

“What did you find on her then?”

“Nothing” he looks at his brother “she doesn’t exist”

“So she gave a fake name?”

“Exactly”

“Why?”

“We have the address of the hospital she was in. So let’s go ask her” he puts his laptop down, placing it in his bag before they both get up

A WEEK LATER

You sit in the living room. Watching some sort of cartoon on TV with the kids. Anna stands up. “I need to pee” she sings out, dancing over to the toilet

“Do you want us to pause it?”

“Yes please” she calls out. You grab the remote. Lydia fallen asleep. You grab a blanket and place it over her. Gently stroking her cheek. You hear a knock at the door. “I’ll get it”

“If they’re reporters then please tell them to leave”

“I will”

“Politely ask them to” you hear the door open. You listen. A couple of minutes pass when you hear the door shut.

“Mum?” you turn around. Two young men standing either side of her. You swallow deeply as you put on a smile for them. Sam and Dean Winchester stand in your living room. “They showed me their badges and they looked relatively real. They said they wanted to talk to you” you nod. Standing up

“Anna why don’t you stay here and carry on watching the film?”

“But I-”

“I’ve seen it before” you ruffle the top of her head slightly “gentlemen please follow me” you smile as you head to the kitchen. Them both following you. You shut the door behind you “I assume you boys aren’t here to catch up” you look at them both.

“No. We’re here to ask you a few questions” Dean says

“Let me answer them for you” you point at a finger with each answer you give “No I didn’t smell sulphur. No there were no cold spots. No I was not possessed by any demons or by witchcraft”

“And we should trust you, why?” Sam asks

“Do you have any other choice?” You look at the younger brother. He pulls out a gun, pointing it at you

“I can think of a few other options”.

“Ok whoa there” Dean pushes the gun down and gives his brother a ‘what the fuck’ look “We aren’t here to cause you harm”

“Your brother just threatened me with a gun. How is that not causing harm?”

“You’ve not been shot?” he says, almost asking if that’s an acceptable answer. You laugh. “It’s not that we don’t trust you, but can we do a couple of tests. Just to rule things out” you roll your eyes, pulling up your sleeve you hold your arm out to him. He gently takes your hand. Pouring you assume holy water onto it. Then he takes out a small knife “Its silver” he comforts you. “It’ll show if your a-”

“Monster. I know how this works. Just make it quick” he nods, slicing your arm slightly. He lets go of your hand. You grab a cloth and dab the blood before pulling your sleeve down again. “So what now?”

“How are you alive?” Sam asks as he watches you “You died” you shrug. You grab out a bottle of whiskey. Pouring yourself a glass.

“Will power? Guardian angel? God?” you scoff, drinking your drink. You sit down, pouring yourself another drink. “I don’t know what else to tell you boys. I was attacked in the street. Shot in the stomach. I remember the world turning black. Then I could hear crying. I look over and I see Anna and Lydia. The bullet falls from my clothing and I have no wounds” you stand up, lifting your shirt up and showing them your stomach. Gently touching where you were shot “It’s slightly tender to touch and you can see vaguely the outline of a scar but there was no wound when I woke up. Not even a scratch” you pull your shirt back down. Going into your hoodies pocket and pulling out the bullet, placing it on the table “Feel free to take the bullet and test it. But from what I can tell it’s just an ordinary bullet. No magic spells on it. Not made from any special material. Just an average bullet”

“What about the gun?”

“Looked like an ordinary revolver. Sorry I didn’t get a good look at it, I was busy trying to not get my neighbour killed”

“Which neighbour was this?” you point

“Archie. He lives 3 houses down. He came to see if I needed help. He’s the one that called the police” they both nod as you drink your drink again.

“Why did you give a false name to the papers?”

“If reporters came knocking on your door because you came back from the dead, would you give them your real name?” Dean nods. Sam looks at you. Distrust in his eyes.

“Mummy?” Lydia walks into the room. You turn to face her. Smiling at her, it quickly disappearing as you see her look of fear.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?”

“I-I’ve got a bad feeling” Then you hear a knock at your door. You stand up.

“Lydia” you look at your youngest daughter and smile gently at her “Go into the living room with your sister and shut the door. Hide in there and do not come out until I come to get you. Do you understand me?” she nods as she runs off. She would normally argue or ask questions but you had a stern voice on so she didn’t question it. Plus the bad feeling in her gut told her to trust you. You hear another knock at the door. You take in a deep breath. Going outside into the hallway “stay in here” you say to the men. Shutting the door behind you as you go to the front door. Double checking the living room door is shut before opening the front. A handsome man stands before you.

“Hello?”

“I’m looking for someone. A tall man. Long ish hair. I believe he may be inside your home, miss”

“I’m sorry I don’t know who you’re talking about” you smile “good day” you go to shut the door but he places his hand on it. Pushing it open.

“See I saw him come in here so I know your lying to me. Let me see him” you look at the men.

“I told you. I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“I didn’t want to do this” He pulls out a gun, pointing it at your chest.

“Now now. There’s no need for violence”

“Listen here lady. That man is not someone you want to be working with. He’s a cold and insensitive prick”

“Says the man holding me at gun point” he chuckles

“I just want to chat with him”

“I told you. I don’t know who you’re talking about. Now leave before I call the cops”. He moves the gun. Pointing at your head

“You’re really picking him over your own life”

“You won’t shoot me” he pulls the safety off his gun

“You really willing to take that bet” You hear a door open behind you. God you hope it’s not the one to the living room. He grabs you, twisting you to face the hallway. Arm around your neck, gun to your temple. You see Dean walking out. His gun pointed towards you both. You grip the guys arm, trying to pull it away from your neck

“Drop the weapon” the green eyed man says

“I just want to chat” you meet Dean’s eyes. He has a good poker face but you can tell has scared for your safety. “Is Sam Winchester in there with you?” he looks into the kitchen. Looking back at the man behind you.

“Dean...” you whisper.

“Why do you want him?”

“I have my reasons. But they are between me and him” he pushes the gun into your temple more “drop your weapon or I kill her.”

“Do what he says. Please” Dean looks at you. Taking the safety off as he puts the weapon onto the floor.

“Kick it over” he does. Your eyes dart to it. You take in a deep breath. Moving your hand quickly you push the gun away from your temple. Hearing it go off next to your ear. Feeling the air hitting the top of your head. “The shit” he says. You bend down. In his confusion he loosens his grip on you. Grabbing the gun from the floor you turn and point it at the man. He chuckles as you slowly stand up, gun aimed at him

“Put down your weapon”

“Bet a lady like you has never even held a gun before. Let alone shot one” you point at his leg. Shooting his knee. He drops his gun. Hands going to his leg as you aim it at his head

“Sexism is not a good look on you” he kneels down. You see his hand reach out for the gun but you shoot at it. Causing him to move away. You bend down, picking it up. “Now get out of my house or I will kill you and everyone and everything you have ever loved. Do you understand me?” his tongue comes out, running along his bottom lip. You aim, shooting so the bullet goes past his ear. “I said do you understand me” he flinches. Looking at you as he nods. Standing up he hobbles out of the room. You turn around. Pointing the gun at Dean. He puts his hands up in defence.

“Wow easy there”

“You led him to my house?”

“Not on purpose” you take in a deep breath. Putting one of the guns in the waistband of your jeans before going over, shutting and locking the front door. You keep the other gun pointed at Dean “Rose. Give me back my gun” he puts a hand out towards you. You bite your bottom lip before turning the gun. Placing the grip into his hand. He takes it from you as you walk past him. Going into the kids bedroom

“Where is Sam?” as if on cue the younger Winchester walks into the room

“What happened?” you grab a bag and start shoving clothes and toys into it.

“You were followed. Someone wanted to kill you. I just saved your ass and didn’t rat you out”

“Thank you for that” Dean says. You continue packing “what are you doing?”

“It’s not safe for me here. At least not for a little while. Not now that they know where I live. So I’m leaving. Id recommend you boys do the same” you head into your room. Grabbing another bag you grab essential clothes. A couple of knick knacks from around your home. Pictures of you and your daughters. Plus one of you, your mum, and dad. “Let’s say that we are even now. I saved your life from the threat of random killer man. You don’t shoot me even though you think I’m a zombie” you smile at them “Deal?”

“Yeah but-”

“Good” your tone blunt as you go into the living room. “Anna? Lydia?” voice softer as you see a head pop up from behind the sofa.

“Mum? W-we heard a gunshot. What’s happening?”

“Its safe baby. You can come out now. But we need to go spend some time in a hotel ok? Just for a few days” you watch the older help her younger sister get out from behind the sofa. Before pulling herself out. “I’ve gotten you both a couple of toys. But go and grab your favourite ones ok” they both nod. Holding each other’s hands as they walk into their bedrooms. You go into the kitchen. Grabbing down a jar of money and placing it inside your bag. Then a couple of food bars and cereal packets. The two girls walk back in. Each holding their respective favourite toy. Dean holds his hand out

“Let me take a bag Rose”

“I’m fine”

“Rose” he says with a more stern tone this time. You look at him. Letting out a sigh as you pass him one of the bags you have. You rub your forehead before walking. Making sure everything is locked up tight before heading to the front door. Both the kids and the brothers walking out after you. You lock the front door before heading to your car. Helping the girls into the back seat and placing the bag in the boot. Dean throwing the one he was carrying next to the others. You half smile at the brother and say in a low toned voice

“Next time we meet each other, please try not to bring deadly assassins with you” he nods and runs a hand through his hair

“I’m sorry Rose. Truly. About this” you shrug. Getting into the driver’s seat you look at the two men.

“Another thing to add to the list of things not to do next time we see each other - not hunt me down in an attempt to kill me. That would also be appreciated” Sarcasm heavy on your voice as Dean lets out an almost nervous chuckle. “See you boys around” you wave at them as you drive off. Seeing them in the rear-view mirror as they slowly drift out of view.

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ruiniel · 2 years

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Another way - V

Summary: What if someone in the 21st century stumbled upon this stranger during a turbulent storm, narrowly avoiding running them over, and what's more they can't understand a word coming out of their mouth.

Fandom: Castlevania animated series

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Rating: Mature / 18+ only

Tags & Warnings: explicit language, depressive character, character-meets-world, modern AU, Fantasy, References to personal Loss, References to Grief, some motion sickness, More tags coming

You trip once as you come down in the morning, grabbing the banister and rubbing at your eyes bleary with sleep, having stayed awake for at least an hour after hearing that nightly howling, after listening to the wild symphony of a cry while staring at the pitch-black beyond the skylight shaft. It was unsettling, but — you can’t sway the thought — fringed with a kind of… melancholy?

You glance at the couch, finding it empty, shrugging as you pass by it towards the kitchen space with its square windows and old furniture. Maybe he’s on a bathroom break, comes the random prosaic thought as you retrieve a glass from the cupboard and fill it with water.

Gazing out the window, your eyes rest on the proud evergreens, dark and shady against the sky. Since your time here has been cut short by what you’re currently calling ‘The Happening’, you sigh, already missing the forest paths and tracks you’d planned on taking, away from everything else in life as it stands now, if only for a time, until you might find something to grasp at within.

You refill the glass, and turn around; and scream — which, of course, startles Adrian, who takes a prudent and sharp step back with a troubled look on his face.

“Jesus Christ Monte Cristo, you startled me!” you take a deep breath, then lift your hands placatingly. “I’m sorry, that was… you’re quiet, no doubt about that,” you add, gazing at him and noticing how tired he looks, though his alertness has faded. Instead, you see something else: a shadow of resignation. “Morning,” you offer after, trying a smile. “How’d the couch treat you?” you turn around to reach for a glass, offering it to him.

He speaks, and you nearly laugh at the ridiculousness of it, but there’s nothing funny about this to him, no doubt; and though his voice is melodious the words sound wrong, they sound bitter and for a moment you stiffen — but whatever it was, it is gone, and his expression softens then lowers into a frown, eyebrows pinched together and nostrils flaring; he swallows as though keeping a sob in check.

What the hell can you do about it, though?

“It’s eggs again if you don’t mind, stranger I found on the country roads.” You look away and try for an average topic, turning and retrieving said eggs from the fridge. “After breakfast I’ll gather everything and we can head out, all well with you?” you ask facetiously as he shakes his head. “Good, we agree.”

He says nothing else, though he stops you with a halting gesture when you try to fill a second plate with food. You slowly put the plate down, and none say another word until you're done and rise from the table, starting to pack everything up.

“We’ll be out soon,” you say after a while, looking at him in that borrowed shirt — then at the old clothes rack in the corner. “Here,” you say, heading over and plucking a heavy item from the rack. “It’s not that warm and it’ll get colder out there. Nobody uses this now anyway,” you say, unsure why you’d justify giving him a piece of clothing. “Try it,” you offer him a large, faded old biker jacket.

He stares at it, glances at you, then understands.

“And your clothes are there,” you show him, “you can stuff them in that old rucksack I found in the basement. Take it, keep it,” you point at the item by the couch, and he nods, faster to understand this time.

It doesn’t take long to pack, and then get ready since you’d barely just arrived, and soon enough you’re heading out and loading your things inside the car.

Adrian follows, looking from you to the vehicle with the interest of someone studying a rare find.

“Come on, hop in,” you say, already in the driver’s seat.

When nothing happens, you turn at the waist to look. “Let’s go, Adrian...” you gesture at him with your arm, even opening the car door.

He nears but stops in his tracks before the backseat, staring inside with the faded dark rucksack you gave him strapped over one shoulder and a curious light in his eyes.

What’s happening?

“Sit in the back, it's fine by me,” you say. This might just become the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had.

But he hops in even as you think this, carefully, still bumping his head when settling inside.

You turn around, sigh, and turn the ignition.

“I saw a wolf last night,” you speak after some time spent in silence, following down the serpentine roads hugging the hills. A curve here, a turn there… like concrete shackles across the lands.

You’re not even sure why you’re trying. He doesn’t look like he wants anything to do with… well, with anything.

“An actual honest to heck wolf,” you add, glancing briefly at him in the mirror; he's staring outside, arms crossed at his chest, a tempered interest on his face. “I know you don’t get this, but it couldn’t have been anything else, it was huge, it was immense and get this, the coat was something like white or gray or, yeah, maybe it was an effect of my wine-soaked mind despite that, hey are you okay?”

He's become so much paler and sick in under a second, an arm coiled around himself, a palm clamped over his mouth.

“Want me to stop?” though it’s ridiculous to even ask, since he looks like he’s about to faint. You look ahead and soon find a spot where you can slow down and pull over.

He jumps out when you finally do, turns away, and throws up in the nearest shrub at the side of the road.

“Great,” you say, rubbing at your cheek as you near, “here, I could… help…” you ask though he can’t seem to hear you, heaving as though his stomach is out for revenge, so you reach and try to gather his hair from his face anyway.

Soon he’s leaning away, hands propped on his knees, taking deep breaths as you release him.

“I got carsick sometimes,” you say, returning from the car with a tissue and handing it to him, which he takes with gratitude while not quite looking at you.

You turn and give him whatever space he needs, getting inside the car then pushing open the door to the front passenger seat.

Adrian follows shortly — you really hope that’s his actual name — after staring up at the sky for a few minutes with his back to you, the line of his shoulders stiffer than a board. He slips inside the vehicle and after a few tries properly closes the car door.

You gaze his way briefly, for a moment disheartened by just how out-of-place someone can look. Whatever his story is, you certainly don't envy him.

Luckily it’s not that long of a ride.

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX - Part X

Want to be added to the taglist for updates? Let me know.

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

#ruiniel:fanfiction #alucard castlevania x reader #adrian tepes x reader #alucard x you #alucard x reader #castlevania x reader #x reader #castlevania imagine #castlevania x you #adrian tepes x you #another way

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randomestfandoms-ocs · 1 year

Text

Dylan Efron Season 3 Scene List

Season 1 | Season 2

The actual outline is so long and detailed so I’m trying to make it a lot shorter and less rambly here — feel free to ask about any of it!!! (might reformat the first two lists, tbd)

Pre-Canon: Cast Disney trip

[ Corbin is around more frequently to film day-to-day stuff and interviews ]

—1—

Road trip: What Time Is It / Start The Party mashup

Dylan meeting Maddox; allowed to keep her snacks

Dylan & Ricky sibling vibes mentioned (Ricky isn’t with Lily tho)

Dylan x EJ cuteness

Sisterhood cabin vibes

Camp song; frozen announcement; EJ directing; Dylan knew Corbin

Ricky shows up, more sibling vibes

—2—

Dylan & EJ talk about directing, telling the team about it

Dylan & Val & EJ production team

Auditions

Prod team discuss casting

Girls cabin; Dylan & Gina like Maddox

Ricky & Dylan vibes ft The Bracelets

—3—

Cast list reveal

EJ flowers scene

Dylan staying out of Ashlyn stuff; Ricky trying to friendship matchmake Dylan & Jet

EJ’s song, tries to backup Maddox with story, follows her to comfort her

Working on script with EJ, gets Ricky and Gina to join, exploring the woods

Ashlyn’s song, family vibe barn scene

Returns to tent with EJ, Carlos then Kourtney join them

—4—

Dylan skips fabulous, sibling support vibes w/ Ricky

Rehearsal prep, Corbin and Channing arrive

Gina moving back to Salt Lake, EJ not talking about the letter

Dylan goes to find Jet, bonding car time

More sibling vibes, Dylan finds EJ’s letter

Bonding karaoke time

Movie night

Dylan & EJ talk about letter

—5—

Planning RCOSL (angry wild child meets sob story)

Sibling support, Dylan worried about her temper & Channing

A Little Bit Of You

Trying to create drama

Group check in; Dylan & Carlos fight

What Do You Know About Love

Dylan slaps Carlos; sibling support; Channing spying; Dylan slaps Channing

The post-rehearsal shitshow, Ashlyn-Val-Maddox-Jet yelling, Elton John reveal

Dylan & Carlos reconciliation / song time

—6—

Colour war time

Does not know that Miss Jenn is coming

Dylan & Corbin time

Dylan bummed that EJ keeps bailing

Dylan pissed when she finds out Miss Jenn is there

Climbing Wall scene, Dylan talks to Val about Miss Jenn

Cheer Off

EJ & Dylan talk

Campfire family time

—7—

Getting ready for dance, funky fun dance times

Trynig to get EJ to chill about lines

Seb arrives!!!

Ricky & EJ brotp

Maddox’s song

EJ sings to Dylan

Anxiety spiral in girl cabin, switches focus to comfort Kourt

Song time, Kourtney climbs the wall

Dylan & EJ & Gina & Ricky moment

Maddox warns Dylan & EJ about Channing

Campfire time; sibling vibe song time

—8—

Ricky’s birthday, Big Red arrives

Reassuring EJ

Miss Jenn shows up; freak out; This Is Me

Pre-show time; Dylan’s check ins; circle up & speech

Comforting Kourtney

EJ/Dylan & Dylan & Ricky Let It Go vibes

Intermission; opening night letter

Kristoff’s Lullaby; proud Dylan; Rina vibes; Dylan & EJ softness

Calling Cash; Dylan & Val there for support

Post-show time; Corbin arrives & recognizes Miss Jenn; realizes why Dylan seemed familiar

Soft Dylan & Miss Jenn moment

Wildcat Cheer

Everyday; campfire

Trending in Brazil; Ricky’s letter; Bucket List complete

Shallow Lake singalong

[Timeskip]

Arriving at premier; cute interview moment

Trailer disaster

Leaves with EJ; tells Ricky to be brave; Rina kiss

Dylan calls for a regroup before premier

#dylan efron #the start of something new #hsmtmts oc

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circulars-reasoning · 2 years

Text

System Education Week: Trauma

(Trauma dump below for educational purposes)

Hey all! I’m packing up to go on a 14 hour car ride, and surprise surprise, it’s been very triggering for me. I actually have a lot of trauma surrounding car rides, and I thought I would take a little about that.

When I mention it, a lot of folks assume it’s about that time I crashed my car - and yeah. That definitely affects me. But tonight was very different than those times I get massive car anxiety.

Tonight, I broke down sobbing in my partner’s arms, because “I don’t know why I can’t move my legs, I just can’t pack, I’m stuck and I don’t even know why I’m so scared.”

And they held me and said “you have trauma about road trips.” And they were right - I was triggered by the sheer concept of going on vacation. Why?

My parents always argued every trip.

When I was alone with either one, they would bitch about the other.

It was always up to me to try to mediate.

“Mediation” was a hard thing for me to learn, because my parents are both traumatized too, and they cannot work their issues out “healthily”

Mediation turned into “how can I push these two to go out privately for 3 hours and argue elsewhere” because that was the only way the vacation could get better.

All of that, all together. And that’s just the vacation - in a car, they would fight, and I COULDN’T mediate. I COULDN’T get them to go elsewhere.

And tomorrow, I’m going on a car trip for 14 hours with my partner and their family. So logically, tonight, I have multiple meltdowns.

This is a vent, just a little, but it’s also so important. Because I didn’t even realize I was triggered. I’m doing better now, but I’m starting to rehearse those lines I always say: “why did THAT trigger me? It wasn’t that bad.”

Trauma is trauma. Regardless of how BAD it was. Yes, I grew up privileged. We went on vacations every single summer. I grew up rich and well taken care of, physically. And NONE of that excuses what I went through, or dismisses it as “not bad enough.”

My trauma wasn’t neglect, CSA, or physical abuse. It was unintentional abuse. It was two loving parents trying the best they could - and they just couldn’t meet my needs the right way. They love me, so much - but they can’t wrap their heads around who I am.

That’s still trauma. That still caused me to have DID.

To everyone out there doubting if their trauma is “enough” - it is.

#summer system education week #syseducationweek #summersystemeducationweek #SSEW #Trauma #trauma dump

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ozma914 · 1 year

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That Winter Driving Thing Again

(It's possible I was a little irate when I wrote this. Also, I'm hopeful the snowy weather is over for the season, but not convinced.)

I contend that DWS (Driving While Stupid) should be a death penalty offense.

Of course, DWS isn't illegal to begin with, but we have to start somewhere.

Look, I’ve done foolish things while driving. I once backed an ambulance into a mailbox--and yeah, it was snowing, but it wasn't the snow's fault. I slid over a stop sign with a police office standing ten feet away. Snow was an accomplice in that case. I took a 1976 Pontiac Ventura off-road four wheeling – and no, Venturas were not FWD.

My youth may have been a reason, but not an excuse. I’ve slowed down, but others haven’t. Worse, the people who cause the mayhem often walk away uninjured, whining about how traumatized they are from the experience.

“It was horrible, all the kids in the back of my pickup flying through the air, and the nun’s body knocked out my tire alignment -- *sob* -- I almost lost my grip on my beer. Luckily I had my cell phone in my other hand, so I was able to call 911.”

"What? It looks fine."

Sometimes–not always – drivers of big vehicles are most reckless. Why? Well, drivers of small cars are scared stiff. You think I’m going to tailgate a truck that has a spring loaded bumper aimed at my nose, and a “Honk if You Love Guns” bumper sticker? I don’t think so.

Second, many drivers of large vehicles thumb their noses at Mother Nature. “What’s a little freezing rain? I’ve got four wheel drive!” It’s fun to play the game where you’re passed by an SUV, then get to point and laugh at him when he lands in the ditch two miles on.

It’s the definition of False Sense of Security. Yes, maybe you and your truck will get through your 65 mph trip in blinding snow without incident. Angels watch over the foolish. Or maybe the next time will be the one when you’ll end up parked in somebody’s living room, with a Toyota under you that can now qualify as a throw rug.

Here’s a wild idea: Slow your ass down. A five thousand pound block of metal, at a speed that would terrify an Indy 500 racer of 75 years ago, is not under your control, even in the best weather conditions. Add to that rain, deer, and other idiot drivers, and you’ve got a recipe for bloody mayhem.

“That won’t happen to me,” you say. You’re a moron. Nobody’s last words were, “I have a feeling I’m going to get into a bad accident today.”

"Did you see that idiot?"

Let’s break it down.

There are excellent drivers capable of maintaining control at warp 5, but they don’t live around here. If they did, they’d have died with a deer in their laps a long time ago. If you’re running late during a snowstorm and get behind a silver haired lady driving 35 mph, you have nobody to blame but yourself for not leaving on time.

Seat belts. They keep you from getting your head run over when you’re thrown out of your rolling SUV because you tried to pass that silver haired lady in a snow storm. Living is cool.

Carry a set of scales, and weigh yourself before getting into the car. If you’re not on the edge of starvation, wait until you get home to eat.

A lot of people try to excuse their accidents by saying they were “blinded by –“ fill in the blank. The sun, oncoming headlights, a brilliant idea, whatever.

We don’t let blind people drive. It’s what used to be called common sense, before attorneys had it banned. So if you’re behind the wheel and something blinds you – STOP DRIVING. Are you worried somebody behind you will be mad because you hit the brakes and pulled over? Fine – let them be mad at your very alive self.

They’re probably driving a four wheel drive, anyway.

Why do I take so many pictures from my porch? Because then I don't have to be in a car.

(Remember, whenever you buy one of our books I can get gloves, and keep my fingers warm enough to write another one.)

http://markrhunter.com/ https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

#humor #Humorous #winterdriving #winter #driving #ice

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forjongseong · 2 years

Note

“Did you have to dress like a rich uncle?” You asked, glancing at Jay and his navy polo shirt and white jeans getup.

DEAD AF! i cant with you. it just started and i am already laughing!!!

“Oh my God,” Sunghoon said under this breath. “It’s like traveling with my parents.”

BECAUSE!!!!! They are our mom and dad OKAY ok

okay wtf nana, i wanna go on a road trip so bad with enha now! as if the so so fun wasn't making my delulu ass imagine them in my car when i blast music dgsadhajdhaj

“Shotgun!” Jake shouted, as he helped you and Jay put the groceries in. “I wanna control the playlist this time.”

ME I AM JAKE WITH THIS. Not only do i get to control the playlist, my bluetooth is connected right away ahahahhaa i tell everyone to turn off their bluetooth! sdfghjkl

Sunghoon sighed a breath of relief and mindlessly put your sunglasses on his head.

WHAT A NERD! lolol

“Noona, you’re sharing a room with Jay, right?”

Jake walked out of the master bedroom after doing an individual mini tour around the villa.

JAKE STFU IM FUCKING WHEEZING HAHAHAHA NAH, YOU SLEEPING WITH JAY INSTEAD, DUMMY

NOT ME LITERALLY GUSHING AND SQUEALING LIKE AN IDIOT trying to curl my hair as Jay is being all kissy kissy

You could feel your cheeks blushing. “I’m a distraction?”

“Of course you are,” Jay chirped without missing a beat.

OKAY THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE meanwhile im here telling my bf to leave me alone to cook because he plays too much and doesnt wanna cook -_-

“Mom, I need to tell you something.”

YES QUEEN, YES! YOU TELL HER BECAUSE YOU DESERVE JAY AND NOT WHATEVER THAT YOUR PARENTS WANT YOU TO BE WITH IN THE FUTURE.

“I don’t have to kiss you to thank you too, do I?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow as he grabbed a plate for himself.

S T O P! I am going to fight him. i am going to punch him so hard, he wont be eating his food!

Jay remained silent as he hid his face behind your back most of the time, and when you felt something scary was about to happen, you turned around to face him. He would then meet your eyes and make a funny face until the scary scene passes.

THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE, NANA! my bf doesnt do well with horror the first time we dated, so i would have to hold his hand lol! and he used to hide behind me sdfghjk but now, he's all "tough" -_- SO THIS IS SO CUTE THAT THEY COMFORTED EACH OTHER

“The guys are out fishing,” Jay answered, rubbing your shoulders.

jake-qua man

“If I say yes, what do you have in mind?” Jay challenged you, playfully pulling the strap of your nightgown so it would fall down your shoulder.

SHUT THE FUCK UP JAY! LET ME PUNCH HIM ONCE

“What?” Jay asked nonchalantly, looking at Jake and then the others. Jake merely shook his head. “Did you manage to get any?”

“No, but I guess you did,” Sunghoon mumbled. Heeseung elbowed him in the ribs and he groaned in pain. Jake quickly left the room to grab a drink.

THE WAY I FUCKING SCREAMED BECAUSE I KNEW! I FUCKING KNEW THEY WERE GONNA BE HOME TO HEAR DHSAJDHAJSKD

YOU ADDED THE PARAGLIDING SCENE T-T Nana omfg my heart is filled with so much love in this chapter. everything was so sweet, comforting, A LIL SEXY HEHEHEHEH, and just the cutest!!!!! from the boys going "lets swim and be loud!" to "yeah they're mom and dad" hhehehehe watch me come back home from the concert to re-read this chapter and gush it to my bf because YOU UPDATED AAAAAHHHHH! His uglyass gonna be like "wait what happened again?" -_-

bestie I am beginning to question your sense of humor because why do you laugh at everything I write? HAHAHAHAH

road trip with enha is such a fun concept omg the screaming of lyrics and jamming to songs???? out of body experience bet

STOP WITH THE JAKE-QUA MAN HAHAHAHA

kahdkjashdas glad you love this filler chapter I swear I just kept writing because of new enha content or because I get ideas that immediately make me think "oh that's secretary Jay" sobs he is my life now

#nanaanswers #from.genie #nanafeedbacks #fic: apaga y vámonos

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tallstales · 2 years

Text

Home as of a little after midnight last night. 16 hours of driving on Friday and almost 18 on Saturday. Fable was a total angel on the way down to NC and was happy to reunite with her mama Nova who greeted us at the car and a couple of her other service dog pals and sisters who are also in for training. Thank you to those who have been texting, trying to check in, or send good vibes our way for the journey. I’m sorry I couldn’t always answer back.

I know a lot is going on right now, but if you have a minute I want to talk about why I can’t always give you updates on my travel, answer the phone, or send cute pics of Fable at rest stops ect. It’s easier for me to write it down once and ask for a little bit of help here than have the pressure of saying any of this face to face.

The car is not a happy place for me as many of you know. A lot of trauma has happened to me in cars. Things I don’t want to post all over the internet but things I am willing to talk about in safe environments with people I trust if you feel the need to ask in person.

This weekend was 16 and then 18 hours straight of panic attacks, trying to stay quiet, accidentally shouting and feeling terrible for distracting or scaring my husband Michael, shaking, migraines, crying, dissociation, and feeling like my chest was going to explode from how fast and constant my heart was going crazy. It’s hard to explain for someone not there experiencing it but I’m sure Michael would agree that that’s only the half of it. My whole body is one giant charlie horse today.

This is another reason why the fundraiser is so important to me and I really appreciate every single share and comment and penny that comes its way. We can’t afford to pay approximately $2k in plane tickets every time we drop Fable off or go to train with her right now because we’re anticipating having to pay for the rest of her training. Not to mention, we can’t afford one plane trip a year for a vacation or family visit or anything like that in a typical year. Two way trips twice every two months is unimaginable. A hotel for one night and gas is significantly less. But the closer we get to completing the payment for her training, the more willing we are to start dipping into our credit card and savings to take a plane instead. I knew driving such a long distance and on our days off so we wouldn’t have to take time off work was going to be hard, but my expectations of myself were far too high. It’s not hard. It feels impossible. It’s torture. I keep trying to thank Michael for his patience and taking all the driving on himself but he keeps trying to tell me that he has the easy part. After yesterday’s ride, I’m starting to believe it. Michael joked this weekend in one of my few moments when I was able to breathe and talk that maybe we should sedate me next time. It’s really sad (and terrifying for a whole other list of reasons I won’t get into here) that I’m considering it.

So I know this was a total look at me sob story moment but Im trying to let people in on what’s going on and ask for help.

Every share of the fundraiser has the potential to find new people. Every comment and reaction (like, love, care, ect) boosts the views that post gets. I know not everyone can donate and many of you already have and I’m forever grateful and in your debt for that. What I’m asking now is that you just click share. Text the link, email it, dm it, share on your profiles. Whatever you feel comfortable doing.

Thank you.

I wasn’t able to take many pictures of Fable in the car this time but here is one of her happy as a clam rocking out to some road tunes and watching the view go by. I wish she still fit in the foot well with me but random kisses to my face from the back seat are nice little distractions too ❤️

Please click here for my gofundme or here to donate directly through Steadfast Service Dogs

#mentalillness #mental health #mentalillnessawareness #ptsd #cptsdawareness #cptsd #cptsd life #anxiety #service dog #servicedogfundraiser

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prodsg · 2 years

Text

wish you were sober ; myg

SUMMARY: all you wanted was his love, and he declares it in a way that has you reeling back, knowing he wouldn’t remember any of it when morning comes

5 + 1 au! five times where Yoongi makes you feel like you’ll never be anything other than friends, and the one time he unconventionally voices out his true feelings.

PAIRING: min yoongi x f!reader

GENRE / RATING: unrequited love, yoongi is obtuse, fuckboy yoongi, best friends yoongi and reader, 18+

WORDCOUNT: 4.2k

WARNINGS: cursing, attempted SA.

A/N: I wrote this because I got obsessed with the song wish you were sober while on an 8-hour road trip.

“Yah Min Yoongi!” You yell at your knob-head of a best friend.

There on your couch lies Min Yoongi, still passed out, mouth agape and snoring.

On a regular day, you would have let him sleep knowing he’d been to one of his underground rap shows last night, drank a shit ton and got home at dawn and you would even ask him to move to your bed to get more comfortable, but today was his midterm passing day.

“Yah! Get up, you’re gonna be late!” You yell once again, glancing at the watch on your wrist, seeing that it was 30 minutes to 9:00am, and yoongi’s class was at 9:15

“Yah Y/N, why are you so fucking loud.” The gremlin grumbles from the couch, opening one eye to peak at you.

“You have your composition class at 9:15, you’re submitting your midterm today min, you know your professor doesn’t let late students in.” You tell him.

His eyes widen comically, glancing quickly at the clock you had in your apartment’s living room. “Fuck!” He yells, bolting up.

It took 20 minutes to get to campus, and 10 minutes to get to his building so…

“Chill, I got you a cup of coffee on the counter, I have my car today so I can drop you off in front of your building so you don’t have to run.” You explain, grabbing your keys from the bowl near the door.

He stands still for a second, blinking; then seemingly sighing out of relief. “You’re a lifesaver, give me a few minutes to freshen up then we can go, don’t want you to be late too.”

— • —

with 10 minutes to spare and probably a few traffic violations, you and yoongi arrive at the front of his building.

“Here you go, you owe me a latte.” You grumble halfheartedly, glancing at your watch and seeing that you only have 15 minutes to get to your class for your own midterm, not enough time to get your signature latte.

Yoongi fixes his flannel, and grabs his bag. “Yeah, I’ll buy you all the goddamn lattes you want, peach. Thanks for waking my ass up, again, you’re a lifesaver.”

Then he does something you don’t expect.

He kisses your cheek.

Yeah, you and Yoongi are best friends. But you never kissed on the cheek or became overly touchy with each other. Your peak touchiness was during your particularly bad break-up with an ex that left you in tears. Yoongi had cuddled you then and patted your back as you sobbed into his sweater.

Other than that, this was a first.

He didn’t seem fazed by it though, and if he was, he didn’t show it.

“Thanks again.” He mutters, opening the passenger door and hopping out of the car, closing the door and entering his building without glancing back.

You shook your head, it was better to not fill yourself up with hope, hope that can fuel the two years worth of feelings you’ve been trying to hide from the blonde rapper since you’ve discovered them.

“Bestfriends.” You mutter, driving to your own building.

You could feel the music thumping in your ears, sweat trickled down slowly on the back of your neck.

It was Jimin’s birthday, you guys were out at a club downtown, dancing the night away.

“I’m going to grab a drink taetae, I’ll be right back!” You yell through the music, tae nods enthusiastically. “Be careful!” He yells back, resuming his dance battle with hobi and jimin.

With a permanent smile etched on your face, you make your way towards the bar.

“What can I get for you miss?” The bartender asks, polishing a glass as he does so.

“Whiskey on the rocks please.” You request, sitting down on one of the bar stools, the bartender responds with confirmation as he goes to make you the drink.

“What’s a pretty little lady doing all alone?” A voice says from behind you.

Spinning on your heel, you come face to face with a guy who seems to be taller by a foot.

“I’m not alone, I’m just getting a drink.” You say dismissively, making a move to turn back to the bar.

You don’t get to though, the man; whoever he is, grabs your hips and spins you and your chair towards him again.

You immediately slap his hands away from your hips with force. “Do not touch me.” You hiss.

The man raises his hands up in a surrender motion, smirking. “Keep the claws away babe, I’m just trying to make conversation.”

The audacity that men have.

“I’m pretty sure starting conversations doesn’t involve putting your hands on women who don’t know you.” You gripe.

“Apologies, you’re just too pretty to pass up on.” He supplies, as if that’s going to make the situation better.

“Not interested.” You wave him off with a flick of your wrist, thanking the bartender as he serves you your drink, eyeing the man that was currently talking to you warily.

“Aw come on, don’t be like that sweetheart.” He disgustingly says, putting his fingers under your chin and forcibly moves your head towards him.

Before you can slap this asshole, his hand is forcibly torn away from you, as he’s pushed away from you and lands on his ass on the floor

“What the fuc-“

“Didn’t she tell you not to touch her already?” Yoongi’s voice steels coldly.

“And who the fuck are you huh? Are you her boyfriend or something?” The guy spits, bouncers already on their way to take him out of the club.

“And what if I am? What’s that got to do with her not wanting to be touched by a fucking stranger?” Yoongi spits right back.

You’re thankful for the pounding bass of the music that blasts through the club, because you can delude yourself into thinking that your heart isn’t beating as loudly as the music is.

“Damn man, she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend, it’s not my fault.” The scumbag tries to pin the blame on you, bouncers already grabbing him by the arms to lead him out of the bar.

Yoongi scoffs. “She didn’t have to tell you shit, maybe don’t go around putting your hands on random women without their consent, fucker.”

Small cheers and applause can be heard through the little circle that has formed around the commotion, as the guy gets ejected from the club.

“You alright peach?” Yoongi asks, offering his hand to help you hop off the bar stool.

You place your palm onto his, and you hop off the stool, signaling for the bartender that you weren’t in the mood to drink anymore, but you’d still pay of course.

“It’s on us, hope you feel better after that whole ordeal.” The bartender explains, smiling softly at you. You nod in thanks as Yoongi drags you out back.

The cold air hits you once you’re outside, a shiver automatically goes through your body since the silk fitted short dress you were wearing barely did anything to protect you from the wind.

Yoongi ; bless his heart — notices (of course he does) and proceeds to remove his leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

Without the drumming of the bass in your ears, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears more clearly, cheeks going flush at something that was a normal thing for you and your best friend.

“Thanks yoon.” Yoongi nods. “You should be more careful, there are a lot of assholes that only want pussy in joints like these.”

You snort, punching him in the shoulder lightly. “I know, just didn’t expect him to get extra handsy.” Pausing, you say carefully. “You said you were my boyfriend back there, damn Min Yoongi, if you wanted to date me so bad, you should have just said so.” Jokes like these would be funny, if it wasn’t breaking your heart slowly.

It’s Yoongi’s turn to snort. “Please, as if I’d ever date you.” He jokingly responds, bumping your shoulder.

Crack. Crack. You’d pretend that it’s the sound of your heels scratching through the pavement and not the pathetic sound of your heartbreaking at something Yoongi would consider a ‘joke’

“And besides, you’re my best friend. I’d do or say anything to save your ass and get assholes off your back.” He continues.

“Yeah…” bestfriend, of course.

“How about I take you home, let’s get some ice cream going and let’s watch that shitty movie you always cry over.”

You roll your eyes, albeit softly. “Inside out is not a shitty movie, you’re just an emotionally constipated dick.” You jest.

“Whatever, let me go get my phone from Joon and we’ll get going.” He says, dragging you back into the club.

Right as you near Namjoon, a girl stops you and yoongi in your tracks.

“Yoongi-ah. Where have you been? You promised we’d spend time together.” She annoyingly whines, clinging onto Yoongi’s bicep.

“Soojin, I was busy— still am actually, so if you don’t mind.” He shrugs her off, motioning for you to follow him towards Namjoon.

But this bitch, man, is persistent. (And shameless)

She grabs Yoongi’s face and smashes her lips against his.

You get a front row seat on how Yoongi's hands instinctively land on her hips, pulling her closer to him as his eyes close.

Crack. Crack. Of course

Soojin pulls away from him with a smirk. “Come on, you know you want to have fun.” She begs.

Yoongi sighs, looking towards you.

You offer a small smile, despite your heart splitting even more. “Go yoons, I’ll go home with chim and hobi.” You reason.

He doesn’t even give it a second thought, he smiles at you. “Thanks peach, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Gone was the caring and protective nature from a while ago, instead in its place is what you would call Yoongi’s default.

Sultry eyes, signature fuckboy smirk, hands roaming around a body (that isn’t yours).

He doesn’t even spare you another glance as he’s dragged towards the bathroom by Soojin, she’s the one who shoots you a victory smirk— god did you want to deck her in the throat.

As they disappear from your view, you let out a sigh. There was nothing you could do after all, you were his best friend, not his girlfriend.

“Dude, literally fuck anaphy.” You spit out, banging your head on the textbook in front of you.

“I definitely don’t envy you, peach, this is why I chose music production and songwriting over needles and gore”. Yoongi chuckles, pulling his headphones back a little bit, and looking away from his laptop.

As a Biological Sciences major, you were on track to go to med school after graduating. But on days like this, studying for finals was where you wanted to drop it all and just become a stripper.

“Yeah yeah, you act like your major is easier but I could never do what you do yoons, fucking make masterpieces out of thin air.” You grumble.

Yoongi chuckles once again. “Thanks for thinking that, you’re probably one of the rare few who think art related courses aren’t easier by default to science courses”.

You loved studying with Yoongi. Even though your majors couldn’t be any more different from each other, you guys thrived in each other’s presence. You both knew each other’s limits and when the other should take a break.

After your episode during your second year, that led to you almost spending a night in the hospital with insanely low blood pressure as a result from not sleeping and eating well while studying— Yoongi has made it his mission to never leave you alone when studying for finals season. He was always there, everytime it was time for the finals season grind, Yoongi was ready to study with you despite him not needing to study at all since all of his midterms and finals were output based.

This time though, it would prove to be different.

The ring of his phone startled the two of you slightly.

“Yes Miran?” He answers, making your heart clench.

Miran— Yoongi’s newest regular hook-up, a pain in your ass like all of his other hook-ups who made it their mission to rub it in your face that they have this weird grip on Yoongi. Even though he always tells them that you were his best friend and nothing else.

Yeah, cause that hurts way less.

“I’m studying with Y/N at her apartment.” He states, rolling his eyes at whatever Miran was saying on the other line.

“I already told you that I couldn’t make it today, don’t be such a baby about this.” He sighs “No she and I aren’t dating, and neither are we. I already told you this.”

Of course, the constant reassurance to his hook-ups that you were nothing more than his best friend.

“Fuck, then why are you being so pushy if you know?” He grits out, annoyance clear in his voice.

You clear your throat lightly, making Yoongi glace towards you.

Nodding towards his phone. “It’s alright, just go. I’m almost done reviewing anyway.” You say.

Yoongi’s eyes soften, effectively ignoring Miran’s blubbering on the other line. “You sure? I can stay peach, Miran doesn’t matter that much.”

You can hear Miran’s downright insulted (annoying) voice on the other line.

You scoff softly, “Go yoons, she’s about to blow a gasket. I’ll be fine.”

Yoongi nods, not even giving it a second thought. “I’ll just come back for my things later, I'll bring you some takeout.”

“Yeah yeah, have fun.” You lifelessly wave him away.

“Thanks peach, I’ll make it up to you.” And without sparing you another glance he was out the door. As always.

“I told you to stop staying up so late for days on end, this is the reason you’re sick, like this is all on you Min.” You grumble as you struggle to lay down another cold cloth on his forehead

“Cut me some slack on the scolding peach, I’m sick.” He whines as another wave of shivers rake through his body.

Yoongi showed up at your doorstep last night, sweaty and cold at the same time. Falling asleep on your couch as per usual, only when you woke up this morning that you found him shivering and running a high fever.

You had him move; albeit gingerly, to your bed. Changing him into one of your hoodies, and made him some chicken noodle soup.

You made a few calls to Jin as well, asking the elder if he could pick up more fever medication as you were low in stock. The older agreed and dropped them off earlier.

“Seriously yoon, how did it get this bad.” You tsk, usually he comes down with these types of fevers once a year. He calls it his “sick period” , the cold months of november and december making him extremely susceptible to sickness.

He tries to shrug. “I was just so hung up on this one song, I couldn’t leave it alone”. He reasons, eyes closing in relief when you replace the already warm towel on his forehead with a cooler one.

It was always like that, he’d get stuck on a song and he just wouldn’t know to stop. It was a toxic habit that kept building up since he first started getting into music all those years ago.

You were the only one who was able to drag and boss him out of the studio without being yelled at by the moody man.

“Do you want more soup yoon? I can make some more.” You say, combing your fingers through his hair, in hopes of getting him some relief.

“No, just stay here.” Yoongi croaks out, closing his eyes.

You grab the already warm towel again, dipping it into the bowl of cold water on the side table. Placing it on his forehead once again after squeezing out the water.

“You’re gonna be okay Min.” You say quietly.

Yoongi chuckles quietly, eyes still closed. “I’m so thankful that you’re my best friend.”

Of course. Bestfriend.

“Yeah, me too.” You respond quietly, feeling like the cracking of your heart wasn’t just audible to you but to the entire world.

“I’m just saying, maybe going out on dates isn’t such a bad thing.” Jimin reiterates, ignoring the scoff that comes out of Yoongi’s mouth.

You shrug fondly at Jimin. “Well, I agreed to go on that date with Hyoseop, we’ll see, I don’t know how to feel about him yet, doesn’t give me that oomph you know.” Not as much as he does, and Jimin knew that.

Him and Tae have been your go-to people when it comes to barfing up all your feelings for your Min Yoongi.

“And besides, she doesn’t need to go on random dates, she’s busy enough as it is with uni and us.” Yoongi butts in.

Jimin raises his eyebrows at that. “You know what, it seems to me that you don’t want her to find a boyfriend, why is that hyung?” He asks, head tilting to the side, daring Yoongi to say something.

Even though Yoongi and the boys were inseparable and were basically brothers, that didn’t stop Jimin from thinking that his Hyung was an absolute idiot.

All the crying and sulking you’ve done the past years everytime Yoongi ditched you for a hook-up, Taehyung and Jimin had witnessed. So it’s safe to say that they want to throttle Yoongi into the ground with brotherly tough love.

Yoongi takes a sip of his drink. He had been against your upcoming date the most, voicing out his irrational concerns since you guys met up this morning.

“I just think she doesn’t need anyone, she’s independent, and smart. No one’s good enough.” He spews out.

Taehyung cackles. “I’m sure those qualities don’t have anything to do with wanting to date, hyung.”

“Still, and meeting a complete stranger. What if something goes wrong? What if he’s a total fucking creep and you get kidnapped or something.”

It was your turn to cackle. “Yoon, come on, that's a reach.”

“Yeah, and besides, Hyoseop-ssi is Jin hyung’s friend, he’s the same age as you, hyung.” Jimin explains. “Plus he’s a pre-law student, has 2 older sisters, raised by a single mom; he screams good guy, not to mention that his step-dad is rich as fuck! Dude got a yacht for his birthday.”

Yoongi’s scowl gets deeper the more Jimin lists off Hyoseop’s ‘qualifications’.

You sigh, putting a hand over his shoulder. “Chill Yoon, It’s just a date. If it turns out to be horrible then I’ll never see him again.”

“But what if it turns out great? What happens then.” He spits out.

“I don’t know, we’ll see- I guess.” You shrug.

Yoongi scoffs, standing up and moving towards the door of Jimin’s apartment. “Whatever, I’m gonna head out first— meeting Seyoung in a bit. See you guys tomorrow.” Without glancing back, he closes the door and disappears.

Jimin tsks. “Hyung is such a hardass, when is he going to admit that he likes you.” He grumbles.

“As if.” You scoff

You can’t help a small part of you be hopeful, that maybe, just maybe he would do the soap opera cliché of dramatically opposing your date, and declare his undying love for you.

But even most soap opera’s didn’t turn out like that anyway.

+ 1

“Thanks for the food Hyoseop-ssi, it was really good.” You commend, rubbing your belly halfheartedly for show.

Hyoseop chuckles, shaking his head at your antics. “Of course, I’m glad you like my cooking.”

You and Hyoseop have been on 3 dates already, and they all turned out exceptionally well. Although both of you agreed to just take it slow and get to know each other more, rather than just jump into a premature relationship.

You were about to help him clean up when your phone rings. It was 11pm, and only one person could be calling you this late.

“I’m sorry, let me get this real quick.” You excuse yourself.

“No worries, take your time Y/N-ah.”

You smile, moving towards his living room.

“What’s the matter yoon.” You immediately say, not even bothering to look at the caller id. Only Min Yoongi had the gall to ignore your no phone calls after the 10pm rule.

“Peach!! C-Can you come pick me up?” Muffled slurred words came through the phone, along with the faint thumping of music in the background.

“Huh, what’s up? Aren’t you out with Joon and Hobi?” You ask, knowing that it was their scheduled hang out at the club today.

“I was, b-but— hey watch it! Anyways, they left early and I forgot that I d-didn’t have a car, plus I don’t have a-anymore cash with me so…” he rambles, hiccuping occasionally.

“Uhm…” you pause, looking back towards the kitchen, where Hyoseop was.

“Please? It’s r-really fucking cold and I don’t want to p-puke and fall asleep on t-the sidewalk.”

You sigh, rubbing your hand over your face.

“Okay okay, I’ll pick you up in a bit, give me 5 minutes yoon, and I’ll be there.”

“Thank you, y-you��re the best.” He mumbles.

You end the call and make your way towards Hyoseop.

“Everything okay?” Hyoseop asks, noticing your furrowed brows.

“Uhm, I have to go pick up Yoongi from the club, he’s plastered and has no one to take him home. I’m sorry it’s so sudden.” You explain.

Hyoseop nods understandably. “Go for it, I don’t mind. He’s your bestfriend isn’t he? I wouldn’t want him to get into trouble.”

You nod, grabbing your coat and bag from the counter. “Yeah, thank you Hyoseop-ssi, I’ll make it up to you.”

Hyoseop flashes a grin. “If you want to make it up to me, come with me to my sister’s birthday next week on my dad’s yacht.”

“A yacht? Okay big time swinger, no need to pull out the big guns.” You joke, swatting him on the shoulder lightly.

“Hey, that’s my condition. Take it or leave it.” He jokes, smiling even wider.

“Alright alright. I’ll go.” You agree, chuckling at the man in front of you.

“Good, now go save your best friend.” He playfully dismisses you with a flick of his wrist.

While you speed to leave, you fail to notice the look that Hyoseop gives you, the look of someone who knows when a person is in love with someone else.

— • —

“Peach! Y-You made it!” Yoongi bellows out as you get out of your car to help him up as he was almost passed out on the sidewalk.

“Come on Yoon, up we go into the car.” You manage to drag him up and successfully get him inside.

“Please don’t puke in my car, if you need to vomit, wait until we get to my apartment.” You plead

Yoongi basically passes out in your car, eyes closed the entire 15 minute trip back to your apartment.

He only stirs when you poke his cheek to wake him up.

“Come on yoon, we’re here.” He grumbles incoherently, before struggling to unbuckle himself.

You drag Yoongi’s ass to the couch where he plops down, hands rubbing his face.

“God what did you drink, how are you this drunk.” You interrogate, grabbing a spare towel from the cupboard and soaking it in cold water.

Yoongi groans. “I don’t k-know, whiskey, tequila, brandy fuck a l-lot.” You start wiping his face with the cold towel, hoping to ease the effects of alcohol even just a little bit.

“That’s dangerous yoon, you got shitfaced even though you knew that you couldn’t go home with the boys.” You lecture.

“I know p-peach.”

You sigh, continuing to wipe him down with the cold towel, you stop though when he grabs your wrist.

“What?” You ask, avoiding his gaze.

Your heart started to beat wildly, the close proximity and his hand on your wrist did not help ease it at all.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers.

“Oh please, you’re acting like you don’t insult my darn good looks everyday.” You chuckle nervously, prying your wrist out of his hand.

“I’m serious p-peach.” He stutters out.

“Knock it off Yoon, you need to get some sleep.” You grumble, resuming your actions from before.

A hand on your cheek stops you in your tracks. You move your gaze, finally locking eyes with your best friend.

“I r-really want to kiss you right now.”

And oh does your heart shatter.

On a regular day, this would have been your ‘it’ moment. The moment where you jump in happiness and act out a cliché seen from a movie.

You’d probably jump in his arms, wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him like there was no tomorrow.

Drunk Yoongi didn’t mean any of this, it was his default (or so you thought) to be flirty to anyone when he’s shitfaced.

All you wanted was his love, and he somewhat declares it in a way you know he wouldn’t be remembering tomorrow.

And that fucking breaks your already cracked heart.

Tears sting your eyes, as you gently remove his hand from your cheek. Chuckling somberly.

“Real sweet, but I wish you were sober.” You whimper.

Fuck did you wish he was sober.

You truly did.

I hope you guys liked it 🥹

#yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fic #unrequited feelings #suga x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi angst #bts female oc

651 notes · View notes

libraford · 4 years

Text

The short version: We had a serial thief at the flower shop. She’s retired recently and I think that due to Covid she really means it this time.

The long version? hoooo boy, here we go.

This story, and others, are viewable on Tablo

There are rules and there are rules.

In dealing with shoplifting in retail, there are rules on how one engages with a thief. The handbook, if there were one, would consist of a single word.

Don't.

Don't pursue, don't interrogate, don't accuse. Let them take the merchandise, let them get away. Let them return the Cricut machine for an equivalent amount on a gift card to be exchanged once again for drugs.

Let them.

There is no handbook on how to handle Flower Thieves. Prior to working in a flower shop, I never thought that this was a problem.

Life is surprising.

I'm sure some of you have figured that out by now.

The Flower Thief is notorious, and she has a system. There are days when you simply know that she's going to be in.

"Break the heads off the flowers before you throw them away," Grandpa will say. "She's going to be here tonight, I think."

And sure enough, she would be. At 6:45, a quarter til we close- the Thief would announce her arrival. Loudly.

"Heeeeey, baaaaaaby!"

The very first time I encountered the Flower Thief, she came in through the back door.

"Oh Hiiiii, Darlin'- ain't seen your face around here: you must be NEW! I'm Wren, you know- like the bird? Well, Kyle and I have an agreement that I come and work for y'all sometimes. You should take out this trash, it stinks to high heaven. Anyways, nice talkin' to ya, see ya later."

I may only be a little bit psychic, but I've spent enough time around liars to know insincerity when I see it. Kyle, at the time, was the manager of our store and I have it on record that he's tried to throw her out of the building once or twice.

While I was taking out the trash, her pile of purchase became so tall it towered over her. I watched Clark massively undercharge her for the sake of getting her to go away.

She has a pattern.

She comes in during the design classes because she knows that when there's twenty people in the store, there's not enough people to watch her and make sure she's not stealing. "There's a class today," she asks as if it's not literally every Tuesday. "Don't worry I know you all wanna get out of here on time."

The Flower Thief announces her presence in a grand way and then makes her way to the back to grab a trash bag or an empty box and then proceeds to bury any spare parts she finds in the cooler in the trash bag, hiding them under the things that she's actually buying.

After that, she checks the garbage cans for things we might have thrown away that will last another three days and stuffs them underneath her other ill-gotten goods.

Just when you think she's finished, she'll go through her pile of flowers and say: "You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus." And she'll go back into the cooler with it, stuff it in her purse, and walk back to the register.

And when she's all done being sneaky, she asks one of us to come ring her out.

This is the part that no one wants to do. Because ringing out the Flower Thief means haggling with the Flower Thief.

"Oh baaby, you know I don't pay those prices."

"Oh baaaby, I only pay $19 for roses."

"Oh baaaaaaaaaby, those carnations were on special."

She'll talk you down to under $100 with a sob story:

"Oh baaaaby, you know I'm donating this spray to the family. It's for that woman you know- you know the one. She got herself murdered a couple nights ago? Two children and she was pregnant too! Pregnant! Can you believe it? Who murders someone with child? What's the world coming to? So I need a good discount to make sure we treat this family right because they got a looooong road ahead of them."

"Oh baaaaaaby, you know this one's for that car crash over on Cleveland Avenue? I hear he was taking care of his dying father himself, so it's such a shame for him to go first like that."

"Oh baaaaaaaaaaaaaaby, this is for that little boy that shot himself, isn't that sad?"

Thank you, Sister Mary Loquacious.

And you nod because you don't want to come off as an uncaring sociopath. And while you're nodding and adjusting the price for her sad, sad consequence and mulling over how good she is for donating to these people in their time of need, she steals some greens from the trash can and sticks them in her bag.

She hands you crisp $100 bills. You check them and she makes jokes about how she printed them this morning. They're legit. Counterfeiting isn't why she went to prison.

What she went to prison for was drug trafficking.

"Do you need some help," you ask, trying to be a good citizen.

"Oh no, I got it," she insists. "I'll make it in two trips. I'm stronger than I look!"

And don't you dare get caught looking to see what she put in the bag or she will give you one hell of a lecture.

By the time all of this has passed, the class will be over and there will two minutes left in the work day. She's spent thirty-seven minutes in the store. Your register is unbalanced because now you don't have enough small bills to balance it and only have one $100 bill to get you through tomorrow.

And that's why there are rules.

On occasion, a new person will break the rules not knowing that there's rules. One such occasion was when Clair decided to be helpful.

"You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus," Wren said.

"Oh! I'll put it back for you," Clair suggested. And before Wren could protest, it was out of Wren's hands and nowhere near her purse.

It was mentioned to Sage, who only worked for us one summer, that Wren had failed to pay for something and she immediately chased her out into the street.

Wren drives very fast.

If you cross her too many times, she'll make sure you never forget it. One day, she stomped her way in through the front door, angry.

"You ain't treated me better than a damn THIEF," screamed the Flower Thief.

Grandpa, who was helping Blue make a wedding bouquet at the time, departed from the desk. "Beg pardon?"

"A thief! You been treating me like a thief ever since they made you manager and I'm sick of it! I see you bringing in your henchmen, following me in the cooler, chasing me down the street. Treat me with some damn respect."

Words were exchanged. They were not kind. We thought we'd seen the end of her.

But she was back one week later, doing the same damn thing.

So now there are rules.

If you make something and there's an excess of flowers left over from the pack, you have to make something out of the leftovers or she'll pick through them and stuff them in her bag.

If you cannot make something out of them, you must throw them out.

If you throw them out, you must break the heads off first.

The trash cans must be emptied every night before 5:00.

We do not keep trash bags in plain sight.

Break down all empty boxes, or she will use them in place of trash bags.

Do not leave any food or drink where she can find it.

Do not leave any half-used rolls of floral tape where she can find it.

Do not let her know anything about you- lest she use it against you.

If you speak of a Thief, you summon a Thief- speak quietly, and never her name or you invite trouble.

The basic rules one makes when dealing with pests. Or fairy-folk.

There are rules and there are rules and there are rules.

If you want to keep a pest away, you make these sorts of rules. But if you want to get rid of a pest indefinitely, you have to remove their food source. And Wren's food source was her discount.

You start exercising your right to say 'no' to a customer in small ways.

She saw a bunch of carnations in the trash and said:

"Oh baby, these are still good! I'll take them off your hands for you!"

"They've been sitting without water for hours."

"They're still good!"

"They were out in the sun."

"Oh baby, I've been working with flowers for 40 years and I know that these will still be fine for a couple of days!" She picks a bunch of them out of the trash and shoves it in my face. "See, it's still stiff- it's still good!"

"Okay," I said. And before I could stop myself: "Full price."

Her eyes just about popped out of her skull. If it were just a little bit colder, I would have been able to see steam coming out of her ears.

We stared at each other for about a minute, waiting for the other to flinch. She took the bunch away from my face and threw them back into the trash. While she was in the cooler, I took the liberty of snapping the heads off of them and burying them further into the garbage.

And so began a war between the flower shop and the Flower Thief.

She came in: every single night. And each night, she got me.

Again.

"Oh no, baby! These carns are supposed to be 39 cents a stem. I can bring up the email."

"Sure." She brings up the email. "I see that they are 39 cents but... this was for Saturday."

"Yea, and I bought those carns on Saturday and you charged me full price!"

"Saturday."

"Yeah."

"You didn't buy these on Saturday. You bought them Friday."

"Well I didn't know that they'd be on sale, so I need them for that price because I didn't know they'd be on sale."

"The sales are one-day only. I can't adjust a sale from Friday to reflect Saturday's sale... on Sunday."

She made a noise that reminds me somewhat of a cement mixer.

And again.

"I got a bad banner last time, can you print me a new one?" She shows me the banner in question. It's white. The 't' and the 'h' in 'mother' ran together.

"Sure."

"Okay, I need it to say 'Beloved Mother' and I want it in pink."

"Sure."

I print it. I ring her up $5.

"Oh baaaaaaby, no, that one should be free."

"Grandpa said- banners start at $5."

"Oh, but you sold me a bad one last time."

"We haven't sold you a banner in three weeks. How long have y'all had that body sitting in your cooler?"

She grumbled, and paid.

And again.

"I swear you been workin' every night this week! You must be tired," she said, nerves plain in her voice. "When do you get a day off?"

"When the work is done."

"That ain't what I'm askin'. When's your next day off, baby?"

"I stop working when the work is done, Wren."

She narrows her eyes, which is a fun change from them bugging out of her skull like a fruit fly. "You don't ever get any days off?"

"When the work stops, I rest."

And again.

"I'll be in and out, I know y'all want to get out of here on time," she said- announcing her presence to the entire class. She piled her stuff across the register counter and Grandpa began ringing her up.

"Oh baby..."

"No. We're doing away with the discounts."

There are twenty people in the workshop for the class and Grandpa doesn't want to make a scene. She pulls her into the back, and I choose to make my instructions louder to mask the sound of them yelling.

"So you're going to take your hypericum berries and you're going to cut the stem to about ten inches-"

"How can you do this to me?"

"And you're going to slowly fill the vase with these berries to kind of set the shape of the arrangement."

"After all these years and this is how you treat me?"

"Fun fact- you might know hypericum berries as their more common name: St John's Wort! St. John's Wort has been used as a medication for depression prior to modern medicine." You see- I, too, have taken notes from the Chattering Order.

"You can't do this to me," Wren said, stamping her feet like a toddler.

"But I wouldn't recommend eating them. However, they do smell somewhat like baked brown sugar."

Stamp, stamp, stamp.

Wren threw herself into the cooler and began putting a bulk of her flowers back.

"This is robbery," I heard her say to Grandpa at the register.

"Is it now?"

And again.

She came in and immediately reached for a half-empty box of oasis bricks (the green sponge material that we use to hold flowers.) She said few words to me, few at all. She talked to Carrie about how she was going out to the country for awhile, to take care of her nephew's property. She needed to stock up. And oh- don't worry about it, she knows what she's doing. She's part of The Family.

She is in no manner of speaking, a member of The Family that owns this shop. Not even a third cousin.

I saw her beeline for a rose I'd set in the trash. I picked it up, opened my mouth, and bit the head off of it. She stood in the middle of the workshop, absolutely stunned.

Rose petals have the vague texture of arugula, by the way. Slightly sweeter, though. Tough to swallow in one go.

She ran back into the cooler and didn't talk to me.

I began taking down numbers.

27 bricks of oasis. One pack of roses. Ten calla lilies. 1/2 pack of assorted greens.

I punched the numbers in to the register. As if sensing something was amiss, she emerged from the cooler.

"$54? What do I have that's $54?"

"The oasis. They're $2 each."

"Oh no baaaaaby, they're $1."

"I can text Grandpa and ask her."

"... that won't be necessary. Why are you charging me $22.50 for roses? You know my prices by now!"

"22.50 is the price for a pack of roses."

"22.50 is everybody prices."

"Welcome to 'everybody.'"

"I ain't paid a price increase in 7 years!"

"The price of milk went up, Wren. So does everything else."

She was seeing red, I knew it. There's a vein in her forehead that pops out when she's angry and it's the same shape as the river that runs through my home town. She sized me up, as if wondering if she could take me.

I'm 256 pounds of 4H beef, and I have a knife. Try me.

"I'm gonna call Kyle on this."

"Do it." A lifetime of retail has made me immune to 'I'd like to speak to the manager.'

She grumbled and put things back. Carrie offered to watch her, I held up my hand.

"Can you do something for me on these carns? They're the last pack in there and they're lookin' kinda ratty."

"9.50."

"9.50's the regular price."

"Regular price is $14."

"No it ain't."

"Is today. You're taking our last pack and we need those for funerals."

She put them back.

She gave me a credit card. It seemed fake, but it ran. Every time I see here, she's got a different card. Did she print this one this morning, too? At least she stopped trying to sell me on Bitcoin. As you can see, it made her incredibly wealthy.

She gathered her things and left. "Guess I'm getting the rest of my flowers from KROGER!"

There are things you want to say. Like... I hope they enjoy your company just as much as we do. Or: Haven't graced them with your presence in awhile, huh? But at the time, it was better just to watch her leave with her minuscule bunch of flowers. I get a choice in where I loan my voice.

Not here.

Is it over? Nah. She'll be back for another round. But one day she'll finally retire in the way that she's always threatened to. And then? Then it can be as over as it ever will be.

It is shocking to come from a history of retail, where you're not allowed to even hint at the idea of a customer being wrong, where you have to override every single price change to get the scores up, where you have to just let them steal your things and pull the wool over your eyes...

... to flat-out telling someone 'no.'

"No."

It's such a great word.

There are rules and there are rules.

And there are thieves that the rules are made for.

And there are words like 'no.'

And all those things are magic in very human ways.

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sweetsbfreex · 3 years

Text

a styles vacation to Hawaii

Summary: a little continuation of this family. The styles take a vacation to Hawaii with mild bumps in the road.

a/n: no warnings, but harry is not famous in this. I’ve never been to Hawaii and do not much of the hawaiian attire/culture, i just did research and put what i found. If there’s any misconceptions or if i’ve offended anyone by accident pls lmk!

Pairings: Dad, Husband!Harry

“Honey, you have to let go so we’re not late for the plane” Harry grunts, trying to stealthily pull Ava away from her hold on Milo.

“No! We can’t leave Mimi” she cries out, cuddling her face into the pup’s fur even more.

“Mimi has to stay with nan, honey” From his tone you can tell he’s losing patience.

It’s a definite eyesore. The whole situation takes place on your mother's porch. You were all meant to say your goodbyes before the three of you–– no Milo–– go off on a small vacation to Hawaii.

Ava is holding on to the australian shepherd, not letting up one bit. You would think she glued herself onto him without anyone knowing, with how she latched on.

Milo in front of your mother's feet, enjoying what he thinks is a hug it seems. Only letting out long whines when Ava's sobs get out of control.

Harry is standing behind Ava, bent at the wait trying to pry her off her best friend.

You're crouched beside her, a hand on her back, trying to convince her to let go.

Ava's poor grandmother stands in the doorway. A look of agony on her face as she watches it all go down.

The–– now three year old–– has been throwing a hissy fit in the car, holding onto Milo's paw. Ever since Harry informed her how they were going to her nan's house to drop off Milo and then hurry to the plane. She saw the news like a terrible taste in her mouth, while she stared at you both in the rearview mirror eyes widened.

You know how much the two love each other, but you didn't expect her to throw a fit like this.

“Ava I know you’re upset but, you gotta let go honey so Mimi can have fun with grandma. Don’t you want to go on the airplane, hm? Weren’t you excited about it?” You ask her, beginning to unclasp one hand and go for the other, trying to bring into your arms.

But with quickness, she remembered the only way she would be able to go on this vacation. Without Milo, she wraps her arms around Milo again.

“Baby, Milo has to stay. Dog’s aren’t allowed in Hawaii” At this moment, Harry is willing to try anything.

“They’re not?” she asks, tilting her head back a little to see her father’s face.

“Nope, Milo won’t have fun there. He’ll have more fun with Nana” he tells her, bringing his thumbs down to wipe away the tears.

“...I wanna stay with Mimi!”

Milo doesn’t eject this idea, letting his chin rest on her small shoulder. You and Harry huff in frustration, glancing at each other. Your mother...well she’s had enough of whatever foolishness you and H are pulling right now.

“Okay enough of this” your mother starts, gaining everyone’s attention. “Ava, honeybee, Tell Milo and your grandma see you later and let go of him so you can have fun on your trip with your parents.” She says this with a stern, yet loving tone. Down to business and nothing else.

“Yes nana” she mumbles, placing a few kisses to Milo’s cheek and glides to your mom.

You and Harry look at each other in an instant, eyes wide at the way your mother fixed the problem in less than a minute. A mutual look of what the fuck, as in the what the fuck were you possibly doing wrong.

“Thanks mum.” Harry says sheepish, looking at the calming little one swaying in your mother’s arms.

“Yeah thanks mom” you say, standing up straight.

“No problem, Now get going, before she fusses again”

You all exchange your see you laters. Ava has yet another sweet moment with Milo. While Harry tells her she won't be staying in Hawaii forever and Milo won't stay with Nana forever. As you're driving away you all wave at the two, Ava yelling to Milo.

“Bye Mimi! See you soon! Don’t chase a squirrel when I’m gone!” She yells out the window, her arm waving in the wind.

You and Harry share a chuckle. Despite what she may think, Milo has never chased a squirrel in his life. She's watched it once on a cartoon and it somehow filled her heard with the imaginary scenario.

When both her grandmother and bestfriend are out of sight, she turns her head to the other window. A solemn look on her face, looking out the window like the Kermit the Frog meme.

You play the Frozen 2 soundtrack for the less pouty girl behind you. But when you don't hear the shrill sound of her singing, you look behind you to see an upset look upon her cherub face.

Her bottom lip is juts out, her hands fisted and arms crossed.

“You okay?” you ask her, turning in your seat to cradle her knee.��

She’s dressed cutesy in a matching sweat set and a cute beanie rested over her plaits.

“No. I’m upset and I wanna yell” she looks at you, resting her case, before she turns her head back to its original spot.

Harry peeks at the interaction through the rear view mirror; an eyebrow quirked. One hand on the wheel while the other takes its natural spot in your lap, your fingers tangled with his.

“Why are you upset?” you ask.

“Because…” she groans, trying to figure out her ‘big feelings’. “You left Mimi and now he’ll hate me”

“He won’t hate you, you’re his favorite person”

“You guys don’t love me either!” She whines, glaring out the window. Wigging in her spot, causing your hand to fall from her knee.

“That’s not true! We love you” you exclaim, in a loving manner.

“Then get Mimi”

“Mimi is staying with grandma Ava, enough.” Harry’s voice catches her attention immediately. “ It's okay to be upset but Hawaii doesn’t accept dogs, remember?”

She only huffs, dropping her hands from her chest.

“Can you play the when I am older song, please mommy?” she almost whispers.

You accept her request, turning so you’re seated right. Playing the song and hearing her sing eases your glazed stare a bit. Releasing a breath and closing your eyes as you rest your head against the window adds a bit to your release.

Harry raises the entangled hands away from your lap, placing an adored kiss to the back of your hand. Sending a quick questioning look your way.

“I’m fine” you send back, in a smile. No mother wants to hear those words.

He can’t do much with him driving and with Ava in the car. So he places a kiss to the back of your hand once more, and extends his hand so he caresses the back of your neck.

“You’re doing a great job, stop being so hard on yourself” he encourages.

If your mom was here she’d give you a tip or two on how you and Harry are too soft on Ava. You couldn’t help leaving all the disciplining to Harry, you probably were definitely too soft on her at times.

Through all the pouting, belting of kid songs, and Harry's annoying jokes and teasing. Five hours later you've made it to the resort.

At the moment, Harry was checking you both in while you and Ava looked around the gift shop. When you feel someone’s arm come around your shoulder, you jump. But the feeling of his cold rings and brings you down.

“Scared me, don’t do that” a breath of relief follows as you tilt your head back onto his shoulder. He gets the memo immediately, leaning down for a peck to the lips.

“Made a friend in the lobby.” He tells you like nothing. Eyes shifting at his little girl looking through the stuffed animals and keychains.

“Are you okay?” you ask in disbelief.

“What?” he laughs, one eyebrow perched.

“Like in the head”

“I’m not following…”

“Why are you so good at making friends with strangers this easily? Seriously.”

He laughs you off like it’s nothing, but it’s uncomic. You wish you could blame it on being shy, but compared to Harry it was not that easy for you to chat up strangers enough that you become acquaintances.

Your husband could make friends with a duck if he wanted to. Everywhere you went. Whether in the ice cream shop a few miles away at home or the park where you took Ava all the time .He was always chatting with someone, in the end pulling you in.

He only laughs it off, beyond doubt enjoying the look on your face. “We agreed to save each other a seat at the Luau tonight, for whoever gets there first. Talked to the husband actually, but you’ll see”

“You’re insane” you tease him.

“Can I have this?” A teal, stuffed sea turtle is thrusts in the direction of you and Harry.

“How do we ask nicely” you say.

“Can I get this?” she smiles, a smile so sweet, your tooth hurts from looking at it. She’s the most adorable thing and knows exactly how to use it to her advantage.

“My sweet little baby.” Harry crooned, advancing to her, lifting her into his tattooed arms. Placing a series of kisses to her plump cheeks. She giggles, never wanting the affection to stop. “You can have it,” he tells her. “Let’s go to the till.”

“Harry you didn’t even check the price” you chimed in.

“Shh. We’re having a moment” he acknowledged. He outstretches his arm, so his palm meets your face gently. You laugh into it, before you smack his wrist away, then placing a light kiss to his wrist when he whines.

It’s some hours later. You’re all getting ready for the hotel’s hosted dinner/Luau tonight. The three of you took a two and a half hour nap.

You were touching up your light makeup while Harry got Ava ready. He lost two rounds of rock-paper-scissors and now must deal with the havoc that is dressing Ava.

“Baby, get the trousers mommy picked out for you” you Harey him tell Ava.

“Trousers?” She says the word with confusion, “Don’t have trousers babe? That’s a silly word.”

Then you hear the raspy laugh of Harry.

“Your pants, get your pants and your top too”

Not even a minute later do you hear Harry asking her to stop wiggling around.

Harry walks in the bathroom, a giggling Ava sat on his hip.

Harry adores a very laid back...dad look you could say. The back of the white wife beater he’s wearing get’s covered by a black button up shirt with flamingos patterned all over it. He’s also wearing a pair of shorts and his favorite vans.

Ava’s tucked into a set. a cami top with matching flared pants and sunflowers ornamented the black fabric.

“Oooh look at mumma, beautiful huh?” he asks Ava, extending one hand towards you, once you clasp your hands in his, he spins you letting his eyes sink in.

“Yeah!”

“Thank you both” you smile as Harry tugs you in for a swift kiss.

You had picked out an angelic, ivory crochet set. The top you’re wearing shows off your midriff and the long, flowy skirt matches with beautiful lace detailing.

You turn to Ava to give her a kiss on her cheek. “You look so handsome.” you tell Harry, letting your hand run through his hair. “And you look so adorable, you like your outfit?” taking her from Harry’s hands.

“Yeah, I like the flowers–– Can I have some too?” she points to the plethora of makeup products spread over the bathroom counter.

Looking over at Harry for his confirmation, he nods. You take the brush running it over the blush, before brushing it over her chubby cheeks and her nose.

“Tickles,” she laughs, pushing your hand away.

“Are you ladies ready to go?”

“Wow! Look the fires!” She points at the lines of tiki torches submerged into the sand, jumping as she sits on your hip.

The layout is stunning. There’s a stage for the performance, round tables spread out everywhere across the beach, and a buffet in the back.

Most of the tables are already filled, albeit the show was to start in like twenty minutes.

“There they are, over there” Harry indicated, his hand waving back at a family of four.

With Harry’s hand settled on your back, he weaved the three of you to the table.

“Hey Shawn.” Harry greeted, their hands clasped together as they brought each other in, clapping each other on the back.

Shawn was a tall man, a few inches taller than Harry, and very built. He had amazing brown skin, clear like a mirror, and was bald––which he pulled off effortlessly.

“This is my wife, y/n and my daughter Ava” he smiled at the two of you, while you shook hands with Shawn and asked Ava to say a hello. Which she did, like bursting a ball of energy as put her hands out for a handshake like she watched her parents do. It caused a laugh out of everyone. She didn’t know why they were laughing at her, but she enjoyed the attention.

“This is my wife Avni” you hugged, as close as you could, with a petite, expecting Indian woman. She was radiant as she smiled at you and Harry. “These are my kids Grey and Aster” you shook hands with them both.

Grey looked about Ava’s age, bouncy coils moving as he bobbed up and down in his seat. His sister, who looked in her tweens, sported the same hair texture. Aster more silent of the two sent her greetings kindly.

“And the third is still cooking in here” he laughed, setting his hands down on Avni’s early protruding belly.

With that joke, you understand exactly how the two of them got to know each other, as Harry joined in with his laugh. The wives chuckled amongst themselves.

“How far along are you?” you solicited.

“Three and a half months” Avni smiled proudly, rubbing both hands around her belly.

You cooed, “It’s amazing, you’re literally glowing. You're making me miss being pregnant” you joke.

“Okay! Enough of that. One little devil is enough.” Harry tickles your side, as a result you jab his side with your elbow gently, as he grins down at you. “We’re gonna go get some food,” he informs the couple.

Now everyone’s sitting around the table anticipating for the show to start. Conversation running pretty smoothly. The four of you were even able to make a few plans for the week you are here for. You had gotten a high chair for Ava to sit and eat in, but she wasn’t having it. Failing around while reaching for you.

In result, she’s now sitting in your lap, bouncing side to side. Munching on her French fries, chicken, and sipping on her pineapple juice.

“Taste good?” Harry asks his toddler.

“Mhm” she hums, shoving her thumb into his face.

“I can tell” he chuckles, extending a napkin to wipe her face clean.

You tilt your head down closer to hers, to see sauce around her mouth, some of it on her cheek even.

“Daddy.”

“Hm, baby?”

“Mimi would like this, he loves the chicken mommy gives me”

“You give Mimi your chicken?”

“No”

You both laugh it off, not seeing the point in correcting her.

“Who’s Mimi”

“Mimi is our dog, he's big and he can talk!” Ava answered, her voice ringing with excitement.

“Dog’s can’t talk!” The high-pitched voice of Grey argued, eye brows pitched together.

“That’s a fib, Mimi talks to me all the time!” she defended.

Thankfully, the show was beginning, two young women and four young men came out on stage. Dressed in their traditional Hula attire.

You and Avni shared a grateful smile, knowing neither of you would know how to suppress their little spiff.

The dance is mesmerizing and it was nice with the sun almost setting as a background. Light hues of orange shaded the sea as the night took over the rest. Everyone watched in awh, clapping when it was appropriate. The women’s skirt flowed amongst the air like water.

Harry’s arm propps on the back of your chair. During the performance you feel his fingers run against the back of your neck.

You turn your head towards, trying not to disturb the entranced little girl on your lap. “What?” you mouth.

“It’s beautiful” he whispers to you.

“I know” you tell him, smiling when he rolls his eyes at you.

At some point in the show, the original dancers plus a few more stepped off the stage. An array of Lei’s on their arms, watching as they put Leis around their chosen person’s neck. During this time a woman walks behind Harry, setting one around his neck.

You laugh at the shocked look on his face and the way he fixes his posture. She places a grip onto his arm, making him stand up so she could guide her to the rest of the others. Avni gets chosen too.

The smile on your face makes your face hurt as you watch Harry “dance” up there. The man definitely didn’t have the bet rhythm but he’s having fun and you loved that.

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!...” Ava cheered on her father, clapping her hands. Harry looks towards her, waving. She gets even more excited chanting his title louder.

She's Not interrupting anything, you’re surprised he heard her in the first place. But also not, she always knew how to project her voice when needed.

A little over a minute goes by when Ava raises her hand and keeps it up there until you’re able to flag down someone for a lei, which you both get. The both of you walk up to Harry and you set Ava on the ground.

A slight circle forms as you three hold hands together. Just swaying. Sometimes letting go because Harry wanted to spin the two of you. It’s a beautiful image, you're sure. All the glee you could hold in your body transpires in the way you danced with them.

When you’re walking back to your hotel room, your arms are hooked with Harry’s and your head rests on his shoulder. An almost asleep Ava in his arm. He stops to bring his free hand around your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Thank you for giving me this, I love you” he whispers against your lips.

Last night, after the dinner and the Hula, Ava had facetimed Nana. To be honest, she had wanted to say a goodnight to Milo, but talking to her grandmother was always a plus. She was still dressed in her outfit, you and Harry getting ready for the night, so you could then focus on her.

She sat up against the headboard, Your giant phone–– compared to her hands–– held in her tiny ones. You were looking through her duffle bag for her pyjamas when you heard…

“Look Mimi, I saved you chicken”, her small teeth bared, holding up a piece of her chicken from dinner. Your phone is now being propped up against a pillow.

You looked up to watch her pull a piece of chicken from her...pant pocket.

That was the point you reavulated yourself as a parent and had to think about what kind of kid you and Harry were possibly raising.

“Harry!” you called for him.

He walked out, an eyebrow quirked.

“Look.” you hiss, voice low.

‘God…’ Harry thinks. “Where’d she get that chicken from?” he asks, running his towel over his hair.

“Her pocket! Why are you so casual about this?”

“Angel...you had a baby with me, what’d you expect?” he questions, seriously questions you this.

“You’re fixing it then, Mr. mini-me”

Presently, you’re all at the beach. Three towels and three umbrellas lay in/on the sand. You’ve rubbed sunscreen on Ava twice now and have had to remind Harry three times. After last time there was no way you’d be rubbing aloe vera on him all night.

“Baby you’re dripping it.” You sigh, reaching over to wipe her chin of the chocolate ice cream she was eating, from a cup you might add. “Do you want me to feed it to you?”

“No, thank you” she replies, kicking her feet out.

You’ve all swam a bit, but now are on a mini break from the water and saw they were selling ice cream close by.

It’s pretty quiet between the three of you, too busy enjoying your treat.

She gasps, “Daddy you’re a fibber” Ava says indifferently, slurping even more of her ice cream from her spoon.

He guffaws, caught off guard from her statement. He shifts towards the two of you. The way the wind blows his hair and the sun makes the green in his eyes even brighter catches you off guard–– the sight of his abs doesn’t hurt either.

You also knew it wouldn’t be long until his hair gained some highlights and his freckles would be more prompt. You couldn’t wait.

“How’m I a fibber, messy?” squinting down at her.

“Look!”she points, “There’s a puppy right there”

There is, you turn your eyes to where her fingers point to see a woman walking a black Dachshund.

Harry turns his head towards him, a sad look on his face. “You’re right baby. I’m a fibber. I’m sorry”

Ava hurls from her seat to latch her arms around his neck, “It’s okay daddy, now Mimi can come next time” she tells him.

If there’s one thing about Ava, it’s how much she hates sadness. Unless it’s from her. Then it’s perfectly okay. She hates sadness so much, she particularly had a dislike for the character from Inside out. Until you had to explain to her how sadness is something that is okay and needed from time to time, Like in the movie.

After her round of affection towards Harry, she emplaces herself into his lap.

“Daddy. Mommy.”

You both hum an answer.

“It looks like a hot dog” she eyes the dog while it trots down the sand.

“It does huh?” Harry answers, brushing her flyaways back. All while you laugh into your palm.

Your hands feel tingly when you wrap it around Harry’s neck, pulling him into you. His head lays against your shoulder.

Definitely a vacation to remember and cherish.

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurbs #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #dad!harry #harry styles reader insert #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles drabble #harry styles writings #dad harry styles #harry styles angst #husband!harry #husband harry styles #dad harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

second chances

pairing: softdark!steve rogers x reader

summary: you wake up on the side of the road with no memories, no possessions, and no place to go. luckily, an attractive stranger arrives just in time to help you out.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: there are some soft moments, but this is ultimately a dark fic!!! alluding to kidnapping, deceit, mention of knife, drugging, abuse (mostly mental/emotional, but implied physical), amnesia, brief alcohol mention, nightmares, mention of bodily harm, bed sharing **if i’m missing any warnings, let me know

author’s note: this is my first dark fic without a dark reader, so please be nice! it took me nearly a whole month to get it where i want it to be (i’m a slow writer, i know) but i’m actually pretty proud of this.

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

After what seemed like years of waiting, the opportunity finally lent itself, a small pocket knife sat right in your peripheral view. A dangerous mixture of adrenaline and impulse filled you, not even granting you the time to think before you were clumsily extending your arm, and wielding the knife.

The blade popped out, and you held it with a shaky hand in front of your captor.

“Really?” he scoffed, “you’re gonna kill me.”

There was no attempt on his part to stop you, in fact, he smiled and leaned back slightly.

Your whole body trembled at this point, you could barely form words, let alone move. But this was your chance.

“So do it, Y/N. Kill me,” his voice steadily rose as he approached you, long legs making their way across the room.

Before you knew it, he was standing in front of you, hand approaching your own. He wrapped it around your wrist and gripped down on you like a snake, causing you to emit a tiny yelp.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, voice steady as your hands trembled around the grip.

“Exactly. You’re still as fucking pathetic as you were the day I met you,” a slap stung your left cheek, a mark that was sure to be there for the days following.

The knife clattered as it hit the linoleum floor, and you followed its path, crumbling on the floor and breaking into tear-less sobs.

“Remember this moment, sweetheart. You’ll never get a chance like this again,” he swooped up the knife before walking away from you, leaving a broken woman in his wake.

——

You went from experiencing nothing to everything all at once. Your brain seemed to be attempting to escape your head as it pressed against your eyes, and you struggled to open them, lashes feeling like they were glued together. Rain poured down on your head, and you concluded that it had been pouring on you for a while, as you were completely soaked to the bone.

As you looked at yourself and your body, a curled up and bruised mess on the side of the road, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly happened to you, or at all. You weren’t even sure that you had memories apart from the ones that were processing in that exact moment. It was as if you’d exited the womb for a second time, clueless to where you were, who you are, or how you got there.

You shivered as you pulled yourself to your feet, weak ankles shaking in glittery heels and body trembling in a half-torn dress. Wherever you came from couldn’t have been good.

You slipped off the shoes and held them in your hands as you walked down the side of the deserted road, bare feet sloshing in mud as you did so. You didn’t have an idea where you were, or where the nearest sign of life was. You were tempted to walk on the soaked, petrichor scented road, but you knew that that wasn’t your best idea.

You truly had no good options. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go. No one to save you. You wanted to collapse back onto the ground, give into your screaming body that was becoming more and more tired by the moment. Hot tears began to slip down your face, contrasting the cold of the raindrops falling onto your body.

All hope was lost, you’d die any time now, and that would just be it. You looked up at the overcast sky and screamed at it, mentally begging for someone, anyone, to help. That you’d forever be grateful to god, or the universe, or whatever it was that was out there that put you in the situation you were in.

You screamed and sobbed until your throat was raw, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to produce any more sound, sitting down onto the damp ground and wishing for your inevitable death to be a swift and painless one.

Yet, your pity party was crashed just moments later by a beaming red light and the soft hum of a motor coming down the road. This was your one chance. Who knew when the next time you’d see a sign of human life was?

You jumped to your feet and waved your hands like a madwoman, trying to catch the attention of the male behind the driver's seat. He began to come to a stop, pulling over a bit to see you better.

His face was angelic, a strong jaw and soft eyes that looked like they had seen more than the average person. When he spoke, you felt heaven become drowsy with harmony. Or maybe you were just really tired. Regardless, your pleas to a higher power had proved fruitful, as your knight and shining armor had just pulled up beside you to save the day.

He rolled a window down, and you got closer to the door.

“Need a ride, ma’am?” he called.

You simply nodded and approached the vehicle, opening the door hesitantly. You sat down on the seat, and jumped a bit when you felt heat radiating onto the back of your thighs.

“I’m Steve. You?”

You chuckled awkwardly, “that’s a great question that I wish I could answer. It’s actually kind of a long story. Well, I assume it’s long since I can’t remember any of it. But maybe I will later. Nice to meet you anyway, Steve.”

He nodded understandingly, completely unfazed by your lack of name. Maybe he had prior experience with hitchhikers, as he was approaching this situation with a nearly suspicious calmness. “Well… where’re you heading?” the man asked, looking over at you.

“I, uh, I have no idea,” you said raspily, throat still sore from your previous screaming.

The blonde’s lip quirked at this, as if he were holding back a much bigger smile, “that’s fine. I’m heading a few towns away, but I was thinking of stopping and getting some breakfast. You interested in that?”

You shrugged, becoming slightly uncomfortable in the quickly dampening seat. Steve glanced over at you after putting the car in drive, and noticed your discomfort from your prior stay in the rain.

“We can stop by a bathroom first. I’ve got some extra clothes with me in the back,” he suggested. You nodded quietly, looking at the vast, and empty road ahead.

----

You sat in a diner booth dressed in a thick jacket and comfortable sweatpants that oddly enough, seemed to be exactly your size. Steve approached the table with an extra plate of fries, and set it gently in front of you.

“So you don’t remember anything?” he asked, stealing a fry before sitting down across from you.

You shook your head, bringing a salty fry to your mouth, “I swear I just woke up there. No memories, no nothing, no place to go. I mean, I was gonna die out there if you didn’t get me.”

Steve scoffed a bit at this, “that’s not true. I’m sure someone would’ve helped eventually.”

“Maybe. But I’m glad that it was you,” you looked up at him, and the fondness he was looking at you with was nearly suffocating.

Steve paused for a moment, mulling over his next words as if he was looking for the exact right thing to say.

“Would you like to stay with me? I mean, I know we just met each other, but I just have this feeling. Like I was meant to find you. Besides, it doesn’t seem like you have anywhere else to go.”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you excused after a moment, popping out of the both and heading towards the ladies room.

You handled your business, and stared at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands. Makeup ran down your face, and it almost appeared that you were melting. Who would pick someone up in such a state? You had to question this Steve guy’s character a little bit. You couldn’t remember the exact phrase, but it couldn’t be smart to get into a car with a stranger. Especially a stranger offering to take you to some secret location with them. After all, he could be a murderer, a kidnapper, or a rapist. You would be none the wiser.

But he fed you, clothed you, and offered you a form of shelter. He couldn’t be too ill intentioned if he was willing to go out of his way to help, right? Maybe he just wanted to keep you off the streets, and that was why he was willing to take you to wherever it was that he was going.

Your stomach turned the longer you watched yourself, the longer you thought. Perhaps your intuition found that something was off. But who even knew if you could trust your intuition, after all, you were basically a day old, and you didn’t seem to have any other option.

——

You ended up going back out into the diner and accepting Steve’s offer. You didn’t really have much of a choice, and he wasn’t exactly a bad one.

Steve was quiet for the majority of your trip, only speaking when he noticed that you’d moved your sights from the window over to him. He didn’t seem to be a fan of the way you were studying him, but for some reason your eyes kept finding him.

Hours had passed in the day, and night was quickly approaching. You dozed as you watched the starry night from the passenger window. Your eyes were becoming heavier by the moment, hours worth of watching flat landscape, combined with the complexity of your day finally catching up to you.

——

Cold. You felt cold. The floor was cold. The blood running through your veins was cold. Your brain was cold and freezing, hindering you from properly processing what was going on in front of you.

A searing pain rolled through your body as you tumbled down the stairs, back into a room that was suffocatingly familiar.

“I should’ve never allowed you to leave. Ungrateful,” a faceless man followed you down the stairs and hovered over your now battered body. “I give you a home and you complain. I take care of you, giving you almost anything you could ever ask for. You complain. Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position? With someone like me taking care of them?”

“You told me you loved me, you goddamn liar. I let you come upstairs, and you try to fucking kill me. I should kill you,” he seethed, leaning down over you.

But I won’t.

The words were unspoken, but familiar. A threat uttered to you before, usually followed with an ‘I’ll make your life a living hell instead.’

You were unable to speak, as if someone had ripped out your vocal cords. Suddenly the faceless man was reaching down and holding the bloody organs in his hands. Your blood ran cold once again.

“You can’t even fathom the hell I want to release on you right now,” he continued, chest puffing out with exaggerated, angered breaths. “But I’ll be the bigger man. Because I love you,” he dropped the cords on the ground beside you, and your eyes flicked over to the mutilated part of yourself. “Y/N, I need you to prove to me that you love me.”

You wanted to beg, to plead and tell the man whatever he needed to hear in order to release you, but you were completely powerless.

The man hoisted you up with ease, and you soundlessly whimpered. He carried you into a small, plain room and set you on the flat, stiff mattress on the floor.

“Come on, Sweetheart. You know I’m doing this for us.”

The faceless man kissed your forehead, and the feeling of dread overtook you.

——

You awoke with a gasp, clawing at your own neck to make sure that your vocal cords were still intact.

“You alright?” Steve asked, glancing over at you. “Should I pull over?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” you whispered.

“Take some deep breaths for me, okay?” he advised, setting a reassuring hand on top of yours. “We’ll be at the hotel any minute now.”

——

Your nerves were absolutely fried by the nightmare. Your hands shook like leaves in the wind while you stood next to Steve as he checked you into your hotel room.

“How’re you doing?” he asked in the elevator, setting his large hand on top of yours once again. The gesture was calming, even if you felt a slight undermining feeling of something unsettling.

“A little better. I probably just need to lay down somewhere comfortable.”

Steve nodded and squeezed your hand, “you’ve had a long day. You have first dibs on the shower. Maybe it’ll help you relax.”

The smile that Steve was giving you was comforting. You felt glad that he was the person to have picked you up.

The elevator made a little ding noise before the doors opened, and he guided you to your room.

You made a beeline to the shower, not even taking the time to be impressed with the size of the hotel room, the amenities, or the quality of it. You just wanted to shed your clothes and find at least a moment of peace.

You exited the bathroom after about a half an hour, and walked out into the suite in just a towel.

“Can I borrow some more clothes?” you glanced over at Steve, who was openly checking you out from the comfort of the bed.

Wait, the bed.

There were way too many things going on for you to be focused on the fact that there was just one bed. Maybe Steve would offer to sleep on the sofa.

“Yeah, that’s fine. My teammate left some clothes in that smaller blue suitcase. It’ll probably fit,” Steve paused for a few moments as you found the aforementioned suitcase and looked for something comfortable that you could actually sleep in.

“Who did that to you?” he asked, gesturing at your bruised legs.

“I don’t… I don’t know. It’s all so blurry,” you sighed, settling on a fresh pair of sweatpants and a thin t-shirt. “I’ll be right back.”

You changed quickly in the residually steamy bathroom, and sat down at the foot of the bed.

“Do we need to have a fistfight over who gets to sleep in the bed?” Steve joked and you shook your head.

“I can sleep on the sofa, if you want.”

“No way. You deserve something comfortable,” he got out of bed, and approached the bathroom to take his own shower. “Get nice and cozy, friend. You deserve it.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, and you moved up to the top of the bed, slipping under the covers and sighing aloud from relief. Your body was finally having a chance to relax, and the hotel bed was surprisingly comfortable.

By the time Steve returned from the shower, you were already half asleep, and very unaware of your surroundings.

As you fell out of consciousness, you had blurry visions of confinement, punishments, and pain. You once again woke up with a gasp, but this time Steve was standing over you.

“Deep breaths, okay? I saw you thrashing and mumbling something to yourself. I think you were having a bad dream.”

You nodded and panted, trying to catch your breath and slow down your hummingbird heart rate.

“You’re safe, I promise.”

“Can you stay with me?” you stammered out.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve got into bed beside you, and rubbed your back as you curled into a fetal position, “just try to relax, okay? There isn’t anything to fear when I’m here with you.”

You nodded, clutching onto Steve’s genuine tone. Something about him just made you feel… safe, despite the possible red flags around him.

After Steve got into bed with you, you were finally able to fall into a dreamless and peaceful sleep.

——

You woke up to an empty and cold bed. You blinked a few times and looked around the room, eyes stopping on Steve as he watched you from the couch, eyes quickly flipping between yourself and the book in his hands in an effort to cover up his staring.

The whole ordeal made you feel slightly off, but the realization that you were essentially mooching off a stranger felt worse.

You hopped out of bed and anxiously paced towards the bathroom. “Shit, Steve,” you muttered. “I shouldn’t be taking advantage of you like this. I should probably leave.”

“Where else do you have to go?” Steve almost defensively questioned, frown deep on his face.

You took a deep sigh and shrugged, “I… don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

“You don’t have to go,” he began, sounding unsure in his words, “stay. With me,” he stood up and walked over to you, grabbing the back of your arm softly. “You’re not taking advantage of me. If anything, you’re helping me. I get pretty lonely on these kinds of missions, so please, stay with me.”

You turned to look at Steve, the deep creases in his face at the thought of losing you. With just a glance, you knew that you couldn’t leave.

——

The next few days of your life had proved your theory. It was almost alarming how quickly Steve became your anchor in the midst of a new, overwhelming world.

The first thing that he did for you was tell you what your name was. As confused as you were to how exactly he figured it out, (he told you that he knew some weird tech guy. You were prepared to go with anything), you were grateful that Steve was able to help you out a piece of your old life back together.

He was oddly patient with you as you learned more and more about your surroundings. You were most impressed by the grocery store, and may or may not have spent hours inside of that food palace, spending much more of Steve’s money than was socially acceptable.

For the next few months, you stayed at a safe house with Steve, spending the majority of your time looking down at your reflection in the lake in the backyard, wondering if your memories could ever come back.

You’d grown closer with Steve in that time as well, he was really the only person that you’d gotten close with since you’d lost your memories. Now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t said more than three sentences to anyone else. By that measurement, your next closest friend was a gas station cashier.

In fact, you’d started dating Steve. Granted, you couldn’t completely wrap your mind around it all, despite the hours of rom-coms you’d watched while Steve was gone on missions. You just knew that you cared a lot about Steve. When he was around you, your heart fluttered. He was the only person you truly felt comfortable with. He protected you time after time, and voiced to you just how much he adored you.

It made you feel wanted, to know that despite all of the confusion, you still had a place in this world, even if the place was just Steve Rogers’ heart.

——

Steve arrived at the safe house late at night after nearly a week of being off on another mission. The bed creaked as he got into bed with you, and pressed up against your sleeping form.

“Steve, sometimes I have these really awful dreams. Mostly when you’re not with me,” you began out of the blue as his arms snaked around you. “It’s always this faceless man just… abusing me. And I can’t even do anything about it because I’m too weak. And I can’t say anything because he stole my vocal cords. It sounds so silly, because it’s all just a dream, but it all feels so real. I just... I need you to promise me that you’ll protect me no matter what. Especially against him.”

“Of course,” he whispered against the back of your head, “I promise that I’ll protect you from him. He’ll never even get the chance to let the thought cross his mind.”

“I love you, Steve,” you mumbled sleepily, “please never leave me again.”

He’d been waiting to hear those words.

——

Your fingers wrapped around a warm mug while Steve put the finishing touches on your breakfast. He’d decided to go all out that morning, with an impressive spread of food that would put most buffets to shame. For a moment, you questioned if you’d forgotten about some important holiday, or an anniversary.

Steve set a plate down in front of you, then pressed a soft peck to your forehead, “enjoy, sweetheart.”

You grinned softly down at the food, and at the affection, “what’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Just relieved to be back. I don’t like being away from you for too long,” he settled into the seat across from you, and took a sip of his own coffee.

“Mm, you sure? You’re not always this chipper post mission.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head just the slightest bit, “alright. You got me. I wanted to save it as a surprise, but I hate keeping secrets from you,” Steve paused.

“So… what’s the secret?” you pressed, bringing a forkful of food up to your mouth.

“I’m retiring.”

Your eyes widened as you heard the news, and you nearly choked, “are you really?”

Steve simply nodded, “I’m ready for the next chapter of my life with you.”

Your heart fluttered at the sweetness of his gesture, and the slightest hint of nerves. Why was Steve so willing to give up his entire livelihood for someone he knew for less than a year?

You felt bad for questioning his motives, considering that Steve had been nothing but good to you in the time that you knew him. If it wasn’t for him, you probably wouldn’t even be alive. He had proved himself to be an amazing, loving man, who had bent over backwards to keep you safe and comfortable. He trusted you, and it was time for you to do the same.

“I’ve been plotting this for a while, to be honest. You might think this is a little fast, but I even have a permanent place for us to stay.”

You couldn’t find it in you to be skeptical for much longer, your feelings of adoration for Steve overruling your hesitance to jump into something like that with him.

You smiled softly as Steve spoke, getting up and pacing over to where he was seated so you could give him a hug, “I.. yes, that’s fast, but it’s also kinda amazing,” you sighed softly, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “When are we leaving?”

“Tonight, if that’s alright with you. I was thinking that we could spend the day packing up and… celebrating,” he winked down at you, and you looked up to shake your head fondly.

“That sounds like a plan,” you gazed at him with adoration, and leaned up to press a soft peck to his lips that was lovingly reciprocated.

——

Music pounded against your eardrums as you ground against a handsome stranger, one you couldn’t see, but instinctively knew. The smell of sweat, liquor, and sex filled your nose, the rancid combination oddly comforting in a retrospective moment.

“We’re leaving!” A voice you hadn’t heard in what felt like years informed you. Your face broke into a wide grin when you heard her voice. “But it doesn’t look like you care!” she jeered. “Good luck!” your friend laughed, disappearing in the sea of people.

“You’re coming home with me, right?” he asked, a hot breath against your cheek.

You nodded. The words refused to come out.

“Good,” he confirmed, pressing a kiss to your neck.

Out of the blue, you weren’t in the club, but in the small basement room from before, staring at nothing in particular while sat at the edge of your vanity’s seat.

“I’ve tried everything with you,” he commented, leaning against the doorway casually. You felt the need to apologize, to tell your captor that you didn’t mean to do what you did, that you loved him. Plead for him not to punish you. “After months of submission, I thought that we were finally getting somewhere. Why’d you have to throw it all away?”

Glancing up at the vanity, a woman with sunken eyes, a pained expression, and fading bruises looked back at you, just long enough for you to briefly become that messy, drunken woman at the club once again.

“I’ve tried everything with you. The easy way clearly didn’t work,” he continued, “you leave me with no other options, my love,” the man sighed, sitting down next to you casually. “I want you to know that I’m doing this for us. You know that nothing good ever comes easy, right?”

The syringe went into your arm like a hot knife through butter, and your muscles clenched as fire filled your body. You went to scream, but your throat was still out of commission. As you went down, your vision and thoughts began to blur before you couldn’t decipher one thing or another. The final noise you could make out was the distortedly slow rendition of It’s Been a Long, Long Time on the record player.

In an out-of-body moment, you watched as the man pulled your relaxed body down to the floor, cautiously pulling the clothes off of you and making you cringe internally at the sight of yourself in such a state. He left your body alone for a moment as he looked through the negligible amount of clothing in your closet, grabbing the same dress from the night at the club and pulling it on your limp figure.

It was torn and messy, not unlike the state it was in when you found yourself conscious. The faceless man muttered something unintelligible to himself before hoisting you up bridal style and taking your body out to the car.

You watched in terror as this all played out, your slack face looking disturbingly at peace compared to how you’d appeared before. In fact, even in your ghastly state, you felt at peace.

That peace quickly came to an end as you watched yourself get ditched on the side of the road, and as your body slowly began to twitch back to consciousness, your dream began to fade away.

——

You dragged your suitcase up through the garage, grateful to be at your final destination with the man you’d fallen in love with. You hoped that after moving in, the dreams might finally stop. After all, your dream in the car felt somewhat final. You were trying your best to be as positive as you could manage in such a strange situation, and from the outside, you had to admit that the house was gorgeous.

Stepping inside felt like the worst case of deja vu you’d ever experienced, as if your memories were repairing themself with every millisecond you were in the home, gazing at furniture you hadn’t seen in months, and smelling faint scents that you’d forgotten existed. Feature by feature, the puzzle pieces of the faceless man came together.

The longer you observed, the worse the feeling became. Waves of grief, fear, and pain were rolling over you again and again until you were completely drowning on it. The realization hit you with a ton of bricks: this was the house from your dreams.

Steve came up behind you, snapping you out of your panicked trance. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and squeezed you close to him.

“Ready for the first day of the rest of your life?”

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