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the-bleeding-typewriter · 1 year

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desperate whumpees and deterioration

One of my favorite tropes of all time is when a whumpee has to fight to reach not just safety, but also the safety of a loved one/innocent person, specifically when the situation gets progressively worse. The whole ordeal is just completely downhill, starting off badly with an injury that only gets worse until they can reach true safety, watching Whumpee decay and give more and more until they simply can't. Bonus points if Whumpee is the leader.

Like, colosseum-like/tournament situations are a great premise.

Accumulating injuries with each round; starting off without a scratch and slowly gaining more broken bones, cuts and bruises, crushed digits, etc.

Eventually even losing mobility in a limb, having an eye swell shut, or some other injury that could potentially prove fatal in combat

With each fight won, Whumpee becomes more exhausted, more ruthless, caked in blood (their own, and of others)

Wilderness survival is fantastic, too.

Rationing materials and slowly running out of food, bandages, etc.

Whumpee sacrificing their own wellbeing for others they feel are under their care; giving their rations to others, so on and so forth...

Desperate & Deteriorating usually goes hand-in-hand with other tropes like Hidden Injury, Downplaying Injury, Self-Sacrifice, Leader Whump, Exposure, Blood Loss, Exhaustion, etc. I love it because the trope is most often found in really long fics that slowly and steadily bring Whumpee and Team to their absolute limit. They're comprehensive and entertaining.

Below the cut is a list of fic recs of various fandoms that fit in the desperate & deteriorating trope!

Most of these are from my ff net list of favorited stories. I haven't truly dipped into my ao3 bookmarks. These are all truly amazing and many are quite long! Enjoy!

Star Trek (2009) | 4 works

The Rules of a Good Man by: Kanae Yuna

Jim's crew has been threatened because of him and he will do anything to protect them. But this time, to save everyone that Jim has ever held dear, Jim will have to give up everything. And it may be more than he can give. Rated: Fiction T | English | Drama/Hurt/Comfort | J. Kirk | Chapters: 19 | Words: 151,813 | Status: Complete

Ingenious Idiot by: Kanae Yuna

"The truth is plain and simple: James T. Kirk is a genius, even under the most unfavorable conditions..." A series of one-shots where Jim shows his ingenuity while he's bleeding, poisoned, or just hurt in some general way. Rated: Fiction T | English | Hurt/Comfort/Adventure | J. Kirk - Chapters: 18 | Words: 286,744 | Status: Complete

What Sulu Sees by: IsmayDeVain

How Kirk Slowly Endears Himself to His Crew by Becoming a Human Punching Bag, Plunging off a 300 Foot Cliff, Getting Crushed by a Giant Ass Pipe, Nearly Getting Blown to Itty Bitty Bits, and Suffocating Because of His Own Medically Inept Body. (Although, not necessarily in that order.) Or five times Kirk puts his crew before himself and one time they return the favor. Rated: Fiction T | English | Hurt/Comfort/Family | H. Sulu, L. McCoy/Bones, J. Kirk, Spock | Chapters: 6 | Words: 53,837 | Status: Complete

Allegiance by: IsmayDeVain

It's no secret that Jim Kirk will lay down his life for his crew. But when an alien race holds five of Jim's crew hostage, he has to bargain for their freedom with only himself as collateral. What is he willing to sacrifice to save their lives: life, liberty, or limbs? Rated: Fiction T | English | Hurt/Comfort/Drama | Words: 13,468 | Status: Complete

Stargate: Atlantis | 15 works

Skipping the Angles by: T'Pring

Sheppard and Team land on a violent planet and find themselves caught up in the local Clan's battle for leadership. John is injured, friends are not what they seem, and the jumper won't be back for twelve more hours. Cue action, knives, and thugs. Rated: Fiction T | English | Hurt/Comfort | John S. | Chapters: 6 | Words: 31,461 | Status: Complete

Zorro's Legacy by: ShepsReyna

Sheppard and team go on a vacation, but it turns out to be a struggle just to survive. Set in early Season Four so spoilers up through at least the first half. Shepcentric with lots of Shep whump. Some violence and language but mostly like regular T.V Rated: Fiction T | English | Hurt/Comfort/Friendship | John S. | Chapters: 12 | Words: 26,057 | Status: Complete

Tunnel Vision by: T'Pring

Sheppard's in a cold dark place, literally. Rodney must guide John through a monster-infested tunnel before either broken ribs, killer cockroaches, or radiation kills him. Written for Sheppard H/C Winter Fic Exchange 2014 over on LiveJournal. Rated: Fiction T | English | Hurt/Comfort | Rodney M., John S., Teyla E., Ronon D. | Chapters: 3 | Words: 12,445 | Status: Complete

Grit by: SGAFan

When a routine mission goes wrong, John and his team find out that sometimes in the wilds of the Pegasus galaxy, you're not always on the top of the food chain. Written for LJ GenFicAThon 2012. Team Gen Story. Rated: Fiction K+ | English | Adventure | John S. | Words: 11,000 | Status: Complete

Hope Is A Waking Dream by scifi_karis

End Game by: Kristen999

John is forced to fight for his life and the lives of his teammates. His opponent may be the most formidable he has ever faced... oh, and there’s also deadly radiation, freezing temps and hypoxia. Rated: Fiction T | English | Hurt/Comfort/Adventure | John S. | Words: 20,711 | Status: Complete

Dogs of War by: Stealth Dragon

The Gang Goes Gladiator by ObsessiveExplosion

Where the Buffalo Roam by: Titan5

Sheppard’s team is forced to depend on the locals after he is injured and the gate malfunctions. Rated: Fiction T | English | Hurt/Comfort/Friendship | Words: 13,449 | Status: Complete

Another Step by: Eildon Rhymer

Black Water by: Kristen999

Waiting For Atlantis by: Stealth Dragon

Crash landing, iceplanet, wraith, and injuries. Yep, just another day in Pegasus for our team. Rated: Fiction T | English | Hurt/Comfort/Adventure | Words: 11,229 | Status: Complete

Significant Figures by: T'Pring

Consanguinity by: Lucilla2

When the team seeks shelter from violent weather during a mission, Sheppard comes out the loser during an encounter with the local wildlife. Shep whump. COMPLETE. But there is now a SEQUEL to this fic, called Grounded. Rated: Fiction T | English | Friendship/Hurt/Comfort | John S., Rodney M. | Chapters: 4 | Words: 15,997 | Status: Complete

Grounded by: Lucilla2

The sequel to and continuation of my earlier fic ‘Consanguinity’. The Team helps Sheppard get back on his feet after he’s been injured, with a dose of Shep whump when his recovery suffers a setback. Gen Team friendship fic, plus Beckett. Now COMPLETE. Rated: Fiction T | English | Friendship/Hurt/Comfort | John S. | Chapters: 8 | Words: 26,679 | Status: Complete

Guardians of the Galaxy | 2 works

The Quirks of Terran Biology by: Eileen

When Peter falls ill, he insists it's no big deal. His team, however, disagree, especially when they find out about a volatile little Terran organ called an appendix. Conclusion up now! Thanks everyone, it's been a wild ride! Rated: Fiction K+ | English | Hurt/Comfort/Friendship | Chapters: 7 | Words: 41,889 | Status: Complete

Morphalite Syndrome by: Fairytale Warrior

It started with a brawl and a half-charged blast of plasma. Sample: "All he could say for sure, was no-one [...] had been aware of the danger until it smacked Peter upside the head. Metaphorically, of course. Literally, it was the heated, still-capsuled mass of energy that slammed into his back, buried through his subcostal nerve, and into the kidney beneath." *Rating may change. Rated: Fiction T | English | Hurt/Comfort/Friendship | Drax, Gamora, Peter Quill/Star-Lord, Rocket R. | Chapters: 10 | Words: 33,708 | Status: Complete

#whump trope #whump prompt #fic recs #whump fics #whump fic recs #stargate atlantis #star trek aos #guardians of the galaxy #wilderness whump

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turnips-dont-grow-on-trees · 11 months

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What Measure A Man?

Fandom: Werewolf By Night (MCU)

Gen

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: Jack and Elsa fight a monster, find a lost child, and talk philosophy, not necessarily in that order. Tw for off-screen child abduction, child in peril, canon-typical violence

(A/N: I hope I haven’t misstepped with my depiction of a cucuy. I am weak for wordplay and actor allusion, but if I’ve crossed a line let me know and I will make it a generic bogeyman instead.

(Also, I do love the film’s monster makeup and the decision to go with a trad wolfman design with an expressive face. I just wanted to have my cake and eat it too, so I wrote this doesn’t-contradict-canon-but-most-probably-wouldn’t-call-it-compliant fic.)

Elsa had been tracking the cucuy for almost a week, and she was getting close. It had been moving steadily south-southeast, and she expected it would likely be slowing down, now that it had found what was surely its ideal habitat – an old forest, whose canopy was so thick that even at high noon the understory was dim twilight, where shadows abounded. Just what a boogeyman needed.

She crept carefully along a deer trail, looking for any signs that the monster was in the immediate area. And because she was paying excruciatingly close attention to her surroundings, she noticed the wolf before it noticed her.

It was nosing through the brush perhaps fifteen metres downhill from her, its reddish coat blending in with the carpet of fallen leaves but the white on its paws and muzzle standing out in the dim light. Elsa took a steadying breath, prepared to stay still and observe from a distance, but she didn’t get the chance - a jay kicked up a fuss just over her head, and the wolf’s head snapped up to look in her direction.

“Elsa?!”

What. the. Fuck.

The wolf - Jack, it had to be Jack - bounded up the hill towards her. She had to stifle every instinct and trained reflex in order to keep her posture loose. Lucky for her, appearing unconcerned was a specialty

"Hi… Jack." Up close he was smaller than she would have expected, about the size of a large alsatian. Otherwise, there was nothing to distinguish him from the mounted specimens of timber wolves she’d seen in lowercase-h hunting lodges. There was nothing to suggest that he was a werewolf at all, or indeed Jack Russell, except she was fairly certain she would recognize those eyes anywhere.

"Elsa! What are you doing here?"

“I’m tracking a cucuy… ” There had to be a way to ask, right? Jack hadn’t said anything about why he was a wolf, but that didn’t mean it would be rude to ask. Jack’s ears flattened against his skull. “A cucuy! Oh no no no, that is not good. A little girl has gone missing; I’m helping the search party looking for her. If a cucuy is involved, we have to hurry! Come on, this way!” He raced back to where she’d first spotted him. Elsa hurried after him, scrambling to keep up with him and her tumbling thoughts, a jolt of adrenalin sending her heartbeat into overdrive. Internally, she was berating herself - if she’d been faster, better, she could have caught up to the cucuy before it found its next child to kidnap. But with Jack’s help, finding the creature responsible would surely go twice as fast.

Elsa’s chest felt tight. A knot formed, just beneath her ribs, that she knew could not be picked apart and untangled with logic. A proper Gordian knot, the only way to get rid of it was to cut it, and the only way to cut it was to find the girl and hope they weren’t too late.

That was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? Starting now, she wasn’t going to stop looking until the girl was found, and she had no idea how long that would be. Tracking a cucuy alone was one thing; then, hours of tracking could be downright monotonous if there weren’t many signs. It was practically routine, and she could take short breaks knowing the trail would still be there for her to pick up again if she didn’t wait too long.

Now, though, now there was a countdown clock she couldn’t see, and her mind started forecasting the future, unspooling potentialities, imagining still being in the forest, still searching, still feeling this damnable, sustained tension for the next two, three, four hours - the thought of which was its own form of anxiety, compounding her stress.

Stop. Focus. She took a deep breath, then another, and finally a helpful, rational thought was able to penetrate her spiraling thoughts. Cucuy don’t typically eat their victims right away. They try to adopt the children, and when that doesn’t work, they lose their tempers with disastrous consequences… but it takes time to get to that point. And by now the sun had come up; the bogeyman was likely drowsing the day away, with the little girl in thrall. Like many monsters, it was primarily active at night.

She caught up to Jack as he was circling the ground, seeking whatever trail he’d been tracking before. Suddenly, he darted forward, only to slow down after several strides. He then backtracked, snuffled at the ground audibly, then leaped forward on a slightly different heading, only to come to a halt once again.

"Jack, Jack, slow down! We have time, so long as we get there before nightfall. At this rate you’ll just tire yourself out before we even get there."

Panting slightly and looking as abashed as a wolf could, Jack bobbed his head. “Sí, sí, you’re right. I got a bit ahead of myself, didn’t I?”

“You got ahead of the trail, at any rate.” The pace Jack now set, nose to the ground, was more akin to a leisurely amble, and Elsa fell into step beside him. “Can I ask a question?”

“Of course! Anything.”

“Is this what you’re like when you transform without the influence of the bloodstone?”

“Well, no, but yes.”

Elsa rolled her eyes. “Thanks, that cleared everything up.”

Jack glanced up at her, then at the forest around them. “You remember, when I said there is a part of me that is not me? That part came out with the bloodstone, yes, but it is also the part that comes out on full moon nights. That is one kind of transformation; this is another.”

“So if your current transformation is not the ‘part of you that is not you,’ what is it then?”

“Eh? Also me. I’m still myself, still human.” He paused momentarily to scratch behind one ear. Using his foot.

“Think you might need to get your eyes checked, mate.”

“Well – Hang on.” He paused, scenting the ground closely. “Would you mind moving to my other side? The wind’s shifted, your smell is getting in the way.”

“No one’s ever insulted my smell so directly before,” she huffed, mock-offended, but she did comply. “You were going to try to tell me that you are in fact a human right now.”

“Because I am.” He glanced up at her again. Behind his wolfy grin, there was… something. He wasn’t just trying to take the piss out of her. But she didn’t know what he wanted her to say.

"You're literally a wolf. For god's sake you're walking on four legs and covered in fur!"

"So? Most humans have two legs, it is true. But some have one, or none. The number of legs we have does not make us human."

“Yes, fine,” she conceded the point. “Humans are intelligent, is that it? You’re saying it’s your mind that makes you human, that because you can talk and think, you’re human on the inside, where it counts?” She shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

“I wouldn’t say humans are intelligent–”

Elsa snorted, then jerked in surprise when Jack actually nipped her heel.

"I'm being serious! This is important. Being smart, that's not what makes someone human. If that were the case, then there would be a, how you say, a scale. People at the top, the ones with the highest IQ, they would be the most human. And people less smart would be less human. There are already people who think this way, and it is wrong! Ted was born human, raised human. He got three doctorates. Since he was changed, he's not quite so fast at problem-solving. He can't do the quantum what-you-call-it in his head anymore, the way he used to. But he's not less! He's just different. And he hasn't stopped being human just because of an accident."

"An accident!?"

"In a manner of speaking. It was not the intended outcome to become as he is."

Elsa mulled that over, ducking under a low-hanging branch. "What, then, decides whether someone is human? If it's not their body and it's not their intellect?"

"Well, why not let them decide? I think, if someone feels that they are human, that should be enough, yeah?"

Elsa sighed. She’d come here to hunt a monster, not get philosophical, but she supposed this was par for the course when Jack was involved. “Surely it can’t be that easy, but what do I know? Can’t say I’ve given it much thought before. Growing up, I was taught a very black-and-white definition of human and monster.”

Jack hummed. “But something changed your mind, no? You disagreed with Verussa even before we met.”

Elsa waved him off. “You give me too much credit, it wasn’t anything as noble as you make it sound. I just - Wait.” She halted and gestured for him to do the same, crouching down to get a closer look at what she’d spotted. “Look - cucuy tracks, and they’re fresh. We’re close.” Jack was instantly alert, ears twitching and tail partially raised. He partially opened his mouth, scenting the air. "There’s fear-scent, faintly, both human and rabbit. It probably tried to offer her live prey, which she would have refused. I don’t smell any of her blood, so I don’t think the cucuy retaliated. But we are close, now, and we need a plan. You have more experience fighting monsters, how about you go after the cucuy, and I will get the child to safety?"

"And how are you going to do that, the way you are now? Which, you never actually - nevermind, no time now. How about you distract the cucuy while I get the child – what’s her name? Do you know?” “Sylvie.” “Then I’ll come back after I’ve gotten Sylvie to out of there, and cut its head off.” Then she added, more sharply than she intended, “Oh, sorry, unless it counts as human and I should spare it?” She could not say she was a fan of the uncertainty being around Jack brought to monster hunting.

Jack looked at her with eyes far too knowing. “I don’t like killing. But I do not have the luxury to pretend I don’t understand it.”

“Alright then. Glad we’re agreed.” Elsa broke eye contact first.

Moving silently, they crept forward. A broken-necked rabbit lay on the packed earth of a small clearing. There in the rocky hillside beyond was a tall, narrow crevasse, maybe four feet wide, and extending back at least ten feet. Elsa could just make out the small figure of a human child, tucked into the back of the cave. And leaning over her, the cucuy.

She and Jack exchanged one last look, then he charged, hurtling forward like an arrow, teeth bared in a snarl. He covered the distance in less than two seconds, giving the cucuy no time to react before his jaws clamped tightly around one of its legs. Jack heaved his body backward, pulling its spindly limbs tumbling from its shelter, before letting go and darting out of reach of its grasping hands. The cucuy screeched in anger, its deep eye sockets fixed on Jack; Elsa seized the opportunity to break cover and dash to the little girl’s side.

She was young, maybe six or seven, and dressed in Tweety Bird pyjamas. So far as Elsa could tell she was unharmed, though she was sound asleep despite the ruckus - likely still under the cucuy’s thrall. Elsa didn’t envy her the nightmares when she awoke, but at the moment it made her job easier. She slung the girl over her shoulders in a fireman’s carry and booked it, sprinting away from the fight and not stopping until she’d put at least twenty metres between them.

Then she carefully laid the girl down, beneath the overhang of a fallen tree’s roots. No time to catch her breath, Elsa ran back to the fight in time to see Jack, bleeding from one ear, leap forward and slash open the monster’s forelimb with a quick snap of his teeth, before leaping back to resume circling it, growling. Elsa readied her machete and waited until the cucuy, pivoting to keep Jack in its sights, turned its back to her before she leaped forward and lopped its head off with one blow.

She let the blade fall to the ground, and finally, finally, stopped to catch her breath.

Jack trotted up to her, skirting the headless, many-limbed body on the ground. “Sylvie, is she okay?”

“She’s fine, the thrall should break soon now that the cucuy is dead.”

“Good, good, that’s good.”

As they fell into step once more, walking towards the sleeping girl, Elsa figured she would not get another opportunity. "So… can I ask why you’re ‘human’ on four legs today?"

"To help with the search party, of course. My nose is much better, this way. But," he added, flicking one ear at her, "I am thinking that you are wondering how, not why. Simply put, when I transform voluntarily, I keep my mind. I am all of myself, and not caught in-between."

"So you could turn back, now that we’ve found the girl? I have to say, it’s a little distracting, having a conversation with you like this."

He grinned toothily. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner? But I think you will agree that changing back would be more distracting - I haven’t got any clothes with me.”

Elsa raised an unimpressed brow. "So what exactly was your a plan, if you found her? Naked man approaching a young girl in the woods - not a good look."

"I have a Lassie routine I can pull out. No, really!" He raised his tail from where it hung down at rest, pulled his head back so he looked less like he was stalking prey, and grinned a toothy doggy grin, his tongue lolling to one side. He shifted his gait so he trotted as he walked, practically bouncing. Elsa could not suppress a snort - werewolves should not be so goofy - and shortly thereafter Jack relaxed back into his natural wolfy posture. He shook his shoulders lightly like he was shaking off snow. "It is tiring to maintain for long time," he admitted. "Gives me a crick in my neck." The girl, Sylvie, was just where Elsa had left her, asleep between the roots of a wide beech tree. Elsa tried shaking her awake, but Sylvie merely turned over in her sleep. She checked her over for injury, more methodically than before, and beside her Jack did the same with his own senses. It all reaffirmed what Elsa had already determined, that apart from nightmares, Sylvie would be just fine. Still, little kids were resilient. Could be she’d be able to put this bad dream behind her. Jack wuffed softly. “You’ll have to carry her back. I’ll keep out of sight in case she wakes up.” “Except I don’t know the way. C’mon, Lassie, you can take the lead.” “Ay, I already regret saying anything about that.” Elsa lifted the still-sleeping girl onto her back for the trek back towards human habitation. Hopefully the search party wasn’t too far, or the sleeping spell wore off soon, because while seven-year-old wasn’t heavy, she wasn’t exactly light either, and as he was, Jack was no help at all. “So… How is Ted doing? Is he around?” “No, he doesn’t like cold weather; he rarely comes this far north. I am actually on my way to visit him, in Florida." "That’s nice. What brought you to Missouri?" They’d talked for about a quarter mile about places they’d both seen on their travels, when Elsa felt a stirring at her back. Signalling to Jack that he should stop talking, she shifted her grip and lowered Sylvie to the ground. The girl woke up slowly at first, then all at once. She shrieked, ear-piercingly loud and sudden enough that Elsa took a startled step backwards, holding her hands up placatingly. "Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now. I’ve got you, you’re safe."

"Wh-where am I?! Who are you?! I don’t, I don’t - !" she took great gulping breaths.

Elsa crouched down. "My name is Elsa. I found you in the woods. Your family is looking for you; I’m here to bring you home."

Sylvie latched onto her sleeve with a vice grip. "Why am I in the woods! Why!"

"It’s okay." Elsa soothed, squeezing her shoulder to ground her. "You’re awake, the nightmare is over. You’re safe. You’ll be home soon." Elsa didn’t particularly want to gaslight a seven-year-old with lies; a distraction, on the other hand, could be just the thing to shift her focus and get her moving forward. Physically and metaphorically. "Have you met my friend, Jack?" He trotted over, head held high, and sat down next to Elsa, tail wagging.

"Oh!" Sylvie released her vice-grip on Elsa’s jacket to tentatively reach towards him. Jack obligingly lowered his head so she could rub between his fuzzy ears. "He’s so pretty!"

"You’re so right," Elsa agreed, to appease the child; Jack cocked his head and grinned at her. She sighed and stood up, brushing off dirt and leaves. "C’mon, your family is waiting for you. Let’s get you home." She held out her hand to Sylvie, and together they started walking, Jack trotting along beside, still in Lassie-mode.

"How did I get out here? Do you know? Do you know where my Daddy is? I miss him! I don’t like these woods!" Sylvie stopped abruptly and dug her heels in. "Get my dad!"

"The faster we walk, the faster you’ll get to your dad."

"I don’t want to walk! I hate these woods! I want you to call my Daddy!"

"I don’t have his number." Which was an oversight on their part, admittedly. She should have checked if Jack had gotten a contact number for the search party. "I can’t carry you the whole way, it’s too far. Literally the only way we’re getting out of these woods is if we all walk."

"Why can’t you carry me?"

"I just said. You’re too big."

"But I don’t want to walk."

Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose. Sylvie was scared, and scared kids had the same fear reflexes as anyone else: fight, flight, or fawn. Elsa should consider herself lucky that the girl’s first response wasn’t to bolt into the forest, but the impulse to curl up and lie still wasn’t helpful in this situation.

She tried another tactic. "You know, Jack is scared of the woods, too."

"What, really?" Sylvie looked skeptically at Jack, who gave her his best puppy eyes in response.

"Yep," Elsa said, biting back a grin. "Total scaredy-cat, this one. But it’s good for him to be outside, so I’m trying to get him used to the forest. Do you think you can help me? Can you show him how to be brave?"

Sylvie gave her proposal due consideration, then nodded, steely-eyed. "You don’t have to worry anymore, Jack. I’ll look out for you."

Task in hand, Sylvie had no more issues with walking. She kept up a constant stream of chatter, directed mostly towards Jack in order to reassure him. In the end, it did not take that long to cross paths with the search party. Within half an hour Elsa had returned Sylvie to the grateful arms of her father, Jack hanging back out of sight of the adults, who were all significantly less likely to be fooled by his dog routine.

Elsa extricated herself from their gratitude as quickly as she could, uninterested in tearful reunions. She bummed a map off one of the searchers and plotted the best course back to her car. As soon as the search party was out of sight, Jack fell into step beside her.

"It was good to see you again, Elsa."

"Mm. This was a lot more fun than last time." She chewed her lip, thinking carefully about whether she wanted to make the offer. "Listen," Elsa began. "I was actually on my way to Georgia, this hunt was just a detour. Word is there’s something draining the ley lines. If you’re headed to Florida, do you want to… travel together, for a bit?"

"I’d like that."

"Clothing is required. That’s non-negotiable."

"Of course."

The last vestiges of the knot in her chest loosened, and she took a deep breath of cool autumn air. Some company would be nice for this trip.

#werewolf by night #ch: jack russell #elsa bloodstone #marvel #mcu #wwbn fic #my writing #truthfully this has been 70% done since last november #finally got the push i needed to finish it!

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morganee · 2 years

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Byler Fic Rec Week - Day 6: Canon divergence

the taste of the color by waffles_isa (@waffles-isa) (699 words, complete)

It's a world where people are only able to see in black and white until they find their soulmate. Everyone's worried about it, but Mike is completely chill.

Static Re-connection by IllogicalFallacy (@illogical-fallacy) (62k, complete)

AND - H E R E - I - T H O U G H T - U ‘ D - F O R G E T - M E N E V E R N E V E R - E V E R - ? N E V E R - E V E R He thought about the way Will had looked at him all those years ago, lying in the hospital bed, eyes not his own. Even through the fog of possession, something behind Will’s gaze had clicked and recognized Mike for who he was. Even without anything else left, Will had still remembered the connection he had to his mom - and... to Mike. His trembling fingers hesitated for an infinite moment, before typing faster than his brain could hope to process, P R M S E - ? Y E S A miles-apart, oblivious mutual pining, emotional summer vacation disaster-fest starring Mike, Will, and one incredibly unreliable radio connection.

must be a devil between us by els bloody rollerskate (@super-nova5045) (37k, ongoing)

Don’t assume that because every gate was closed by your telekinetic girlfriend before the world split in two everything will be okay. Your best friend might become a new target of this monster four months later on summer camp and be in grave danger. Or do. He’ll have to die. Ever since November 1983, when Will Byers went missing, shit has just gone downhill for Hawkins, tragedy after tragedy afflicting a once peaceful town. For the first time ever, Mike Wheeler, is at peace – he’s going to Camp Hero in the summer of ’86, where the high-schoolers of Hawkins bond for a summer of “totally rad, epic fun”. The only thing that could possibly spoil it? His best friend, Will, happens to be attending camp too, as well as his girlfriend El – the two people Mike was trying to avoid; the sheer level of awkward tension between them driving him insane. Mike’s trying his best to ignore Will and even worse, ignore the feelings for Will he tried to repress, too. However, when his assumed-dead dungeon master, Eddie Munson, steps foot on Camp Hero on one midsummer night, Mike knows he must get over his tension with Will and El and reunite his friends to destroy Vecna, once and for all.

A Hope to Cling To by midnighteverlark (18k, complete)

While talking to Will in the shed, trying to break through the Mind Flayer's control, Mike starts thinking about what he would do if Will gave up, and completely unintentionally blurts, "I love you." Mike's existential crisis follows. Meanwhile, Will uses the words as his anchor, holding onto this glimmer of hope with all his might as he struggles to hang on against the Mind Flayer. Basically, a more Mike/Will-centric version of episodes 8 and 9 and the time beyond, with a good dose of of grit and Serious Stuff but also plenty of happiness and some fluff to come. (I mean, come on - Will is a gay kid in the 80s who just craves love and acceptance, and he deserves A Break. Mike is just realizing he's bisexual and he needs some love and acceptance and A Break too.)

king of my heart by bookinit (@bookinit02) (21k, complete)

Will finds himself wondering, sometimes, if his mark matches Mike’s. He thinks it must, really—he can’t imagine wanting to spend the rest of his life with anyone else. Mike’s cool and strong and brave and funny. His hair flops down over his forehead and his eyes bore into Will’s soul, always so steadily intense. He doesn’t cry when he scrapes his knee. Instead, he just gets back up. Will thinks that if Mike isn’t his soulmate, something is seriously wrong with the world.

truth serum side effects (may include: accidental gay confessions) by sterrenhemel (1k, complete)

"You okay?" Mike asks him. "Yeah, your hands are really soft." And— Jesus Christ, what was that? Sure, it wasn't a lie, but... what?! "Uh, thank you?" Mike replies awkwardly. Will wants to hit himself. Why would he say that? "I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that." Or the one in which Will is hit by a truth serum.

#byler #bylerficrecweek2023 #bylerficrecweek #byler fic rec #byler fic #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things

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grymmnox · 1 year

Text

week #36

i forgot it was saturday,, oopsies. tbf im tired

fandom(s): bungo stray dogs, good omens, supernatural

ship(s): soukoku, ranpoe, ineffable husbands, destiel

Oneshots

leaking red glitter; crispy_ceasar - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 2k words | READ TAGS summary: dazai wakes up and he feels like a miracle.

Sunlight; thewritingotter - good omens/spn fusion

teen and up | 12.6k words | aziraphale/crowley, castiel/dean summary: It’s only been a couple of days since their first kiss (the memory of which is seared forever in Crowley’s infernal heart, something he knows he will never allow himself to forget -- not when it’s similarly the most amazing and frightening thing that’s ever happened to him), and while Crowley craves affection and hand holding and all of those soppy things demons aren’t supposed to be in want for, Aziraphale is drastically and very firmly on the other side. He’s stiff and unyielding, and even though Crowley is one of the few who are allowed to touch him, these instances are few and far between. -- Crowley and Aziraphale go on a much needed holiday after the Apocalypse That Didn't Happen.

You're Still A Dream Of Hope To Me; BlackUnicorn - good omens/spn fusion

not rated | 10.1k words | aziraphale/crowley, castiel/dean summary: “There you go, love.” A plate with a generous slice of apple pie was set on the table and the man-shaped being across from Crowley made a face that looked like it was trying very hard to be both exasperated and excited. “You told me to order for you, so I did,” Crowley said, innocently as you please, “And I happen to be rather fond of apples.” *** “What can I get ya?” the waitress asked. “Well – Molly,” Dean read her nametag, “How ‘bout some of that apple pie?” “’fraid that was the last slice,” Molly said and Dean could feel the smile steadily dripping of his face, “We still have cake, though.” “No, thanks,” Dean answered, “Just coffee is fine.” *** It was supposed to be a holiday. Crowley and Aziraphale make a trip to the States for a little change of scenery. Sam and Dean are still recovering from everything that happened. Things sort of go downhill when the Winchesters think they're on a Hunt for a Trickster, then uphill, depending on where you stand, and then they just go sideways.

All In The Pronunciation; Dr_Wahoo - good omens/spn fusion

teen and up | 2.4k words | implied aziraphale/crowley, dean & sam summary: Sam and Dean make the unenviable decision to summon Crowley. However, the demon standing in their summoning circle is decidedly not the right Crowley — or so they think at first.

Complete Fics

I'll crown your inner child with laurel; acuteguwu - bungo stray dogs

mature | 26 chapters, 197k words | chuuya/dazai, chuuya & dazai, poe/ranpo, poe & ranpo | READ TAGS summary: “I didn’t get my education in the best culinary school of France for some mediocre apprentice to tell me how to cook my dishes.” “Just shut it, Chuuya, and salt your goddamn béchamel.” (AU in which Dazai and Chuuya are both competing in the famous culinary contest, but it's more about childhood traumas and attempts to fix them with adult lovestories.)

Incomplete Fics

The Whim of a Cat; Stormlight8 - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 10/? chapters, 18.1k words | natsume & oda, ango & dazai & oda, dazai & oda, atsushi & oda, ango & oda summary: All it took was a few lines in the Book to change reality. Natsume Soseki, using the page held by the government, wrote a change that came into effect when the Decay of the Angels stole the page: the revival of Oda Sakunosuke. Having not been killed by his battle with Mimic, but believed by everyone to be dead, the ex-mafioso became committed to fulfilling what he had previously failed at. In order to save more innocent children, he had to keep the balance. With the Decay of the Angels disturbing the balance, it was finally time for Oda Sakunosuke to step into the fray. And hopefully, he'd meet a few old friends along the way.

nothing, the wind, the sky; lilydaze (Icosagens) - bungo stray dogs

mature | 2/7 chapters, 19.5k words | chuuya/dazai, (once again, and i cannot stress this enough, past & unhealthy.) dazai/mori | READ TAGS summary: "There's this moment, right before you do it, where your body tries to save you. It's not fear, or hesitance; it's a biological desire to survive that wells up in you and tries to overwhelm you into quitting. It rises up to become this... nearly insurmountable mental block. It's very powerful. It... possesses you. There's a lot of willpower involved in committing suicide, if you didn't know." "Does it," Chuuya asks quietly, "get easier? The more times you do it?" Dazai looks him in the eye. "No," he says. "It doesn't."

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deliasbabe · 5 years

Text

Dancing Through Our House With The Ghost Of You- Part 2

Billie deals with her own ghosts. Part 3 Coming Soon!

Read Part 1 here.

Words: 3,792

Warnings: Strong Language, Angst, Drunkenness.

“Billie?”

Billie glanced up, preparing for another image of you that would only disappear, but once she locked eyes with you she knew it wasn’t a figment of her imagination. You were dressed in an oversized hoodie Billie had never seen you in before, presumably covering your shorts beneath it. Your hair was shorter and a little lighter, falling in loose waves around your chin. Between Billie’s wine drunk haze and the streetlights glowing behind you, you looked ethereal in every way, her own personal guardian angel.

“What are you doing here?” Billie whispered, confused by your abrupt arrival.

You furrowed your brow, before taking in your ex lover’s obviously inebriated state, “You called me.”

She searched her swirling memory for a moment, trying to recall when exactly she would have called, coming up empty. It must have happened if you were here, standing right in front of her. She didn’t respond, didn’t know what she could possibly say, but you knew that. Instead, you kneeled down in front of her so you were at eye level, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear gently. You always knew exactly what she needed.

“You’re here.” Billie whispered, almost like she didn’t believe it, like any second you would vanish into thin air and she would be alone once again.

You gave a soft nod, “I am. Now let’s get you moved to the couch, hm?” You had dealt with Billie’s breakdowns before, when her job got too heavy and real for her to handle. You knew her like the back of your hand, but you had never seen her quite like this. You grabbed her hand and tugged her up, depositing her on the couch before heading to the kitchen for some wine. You knew for certain she had already had far too much for a casual evening, but even the simple action of holding the full glass in her hand seemed to calm her, or at least, it used to.

You saw the smoke before you had even entered the kitchen, quickly walking over to the stove and turning it off before depositing the charred remains of the forgotten stir fry in the garbage. Billie was never one for eating more than one proper meal in a day, and you usually had to force her to even eat one, so the chances that she hadn’t eaten were pretty high, and you quickly dialed the pizza place around the corner that you always ordered from. It wasn’t the most nutritious meal, but it was something to help avoid the hangover.

When you returned to the living room with two full wine glasses in hand, Billie had managed to get herself curled up under a blanket, and you were thankful you didn’t see the same emptiness in her eyes that had greeted you upon your arrival. You held out one of the glasses, which she took with shakey hands and a small thank you, before you took up residence on the opposite side of the couch, tucking your knees under you in the way you always did, like this place was still your home and nothing had changed.

Billie glanced at you for a moment, “Since when do you drink red?”

You gave a gentle laugh, “It was all you had. Did you just get back?”

Billie nodded slightly, “You look good.”

“Thank you.” You said politely, knowing Billie was always the charmer. But to you, it didn’t feel like a compliment, it felt like a distraction.

“What have you been up to?” Billie asked, making polite chit chat like you didn’t just see her at her worst. It was the only thing she could think of to do. She didn’t know what exactly she had said to you, but it had to have been pretty bad for you to show up after what she did.

You knew it was just her trying to skirt around the pressing issue, likely due to embarrassment. Still, you feared that emptiness returning once again, so you indulged her, “I went home for the summer, spent time with my parents. I just… I needed to get out of LA. It was good for me.”

Billie nodded, she knew you always hated the city, that it made you feel like you were drowning. You two had talked about moving away together, but with her job, she was always tied to LA, or at least California. She still was having trouble saying anything, because there was so much she wanted to say, but the words were tied down, lodged in the pit of her stomach and sinking.

“Did you find any particularly scary ghosts while abroad?” You ask, your tone slightly teasing, which only made the woman smile.

“No,” She said with a laugh, “I couldn’t understand half of them.”

You snickered, “Kind of fucked up that even ghosts have a language barrier.”

And oh, Billie was swooning at your candor. It was one of her favorite things about you, how you always seemed to know just how to break the tension, how to draw her out of even her darkest moments and make her see the light. But nothing about this was light, not with the guilt pressing on her shoulders with every kind word you spoke. You should have been angry, furious with her. Every word should have been biting, calloused, cold, but then again, it was you. She focused on her wine, swirling it for a moment, if only to give her a second to think. You noticed, you always noticed. “You don’t want it?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.

“No, I do.” Billie said, shaking her head, “I just haven’t eaten. My dinner is still on the stove.”

“Your dinner is in the garbage.” You joked, “You may have let it cook for just a tad too long.” You watched the medium bite her lip as a blush creeped up her cheeks, an unusual sight, “I ordered pizza. It should be here soon.” Billie met your gaze, but only briefly before she looked away and nodded, finally taking a sip of the wine. “So what happened, Bill?” You asked softly, pushing just enough.

“I didn’t tell you?” Billie asked quietly, shifting her gaze to stare at her lap.

“You said you were seeing ghosts.” You responded.

Billie pursed her lips, “I was.”

“You don’t have any ghosts.” You stated.

Billie gave a soft sigh, “I do now.”

You chuckled softly, “Did someone die while I was away?”

“I saw you.” Billie said bluntly, tired of whatever dance she was forcing you to partake in. Billie always liked games, but she couldn’t bear to do it with you, not anymore.

Billie glanced up as your face fell solemn, and she hated herself for forcing you to take on more of her pain. This was her fault, all of it. She shouldn’t have called you. You were quiet for a moment, nodding slightly, “You haven’t been back since it happened, have you?” Billie shook her head, embarrassed. “Yea, that’ll do it. It happened to me too, when I went back to my apartment.” You said, trying to let her know she wasn’t alone, “That’s why I left for a while, to give me time to… deal with it, I guess.”

“Have you?” Billie asked, secretly terrified of the answer, of being alone in this torture.

You chuckled lightly, “Well I’m here, so I’ll let you be the judge.”

The answer was very you, but it was also very telling. You always dropped everything to be there for her, regardless of what she had done, and although Billie was thankful for it, it also made her heart ache. She hurt you, and you were still here, still picking up her broken pieces when she was too proud to pick up yours. You were ten times the person she would ever be, and you deserved better than her, but all she could think about was how you were inches away from her, how she could lean over and kiss you and everything would be ok again.But before she could make her move, the doorbell rang, and with it the urge was taken out like the tide.

Billie took a moment to compose herself as you grabbed the food, wiping at her smudged makeup and smoothing down her hair, smiling when you returned with on very large pizza box in hand. It seemed utterly absurd to order that much food for just two people, but you always had been the planner, and you knew the medium well enough to assume it would be days before she made it to the grocery store. At least this way she had some leftovers to carry her through.

“Let’s get some food in you.” You teased, handing the woman a greasy slice. She nibbled on it for a moment, not really sure she actually even wanted to eat, as you looked around. “Where is your assistant?” You asked.

“Hm?” Billie responded.

“Your assistant?” You asked casually, “I’m sure you got a new one. You used to have me here from the moment you woke up until you went to bed, even when we weren’t together.”

“That’s because I liked you.” Billie said, trying to hide behind a teasing tone. You weren’t wrong, she did have you there constantly, but that was because she had feelings for you. She made it seem like it had always been that way, but the truth of it was it was just you, her previous assistants she hardly ever called on, she just preferred to handle things herself.

“And you don’t like her?” You teased back, watching your ex avert her gaze and shrug, which told you everything you needed to know. “Ah, got it.” You said with a laugh, trying to diffuse the tension.

“It was a long trip.” Billie said defensively. It was a half assed attempt and she knew it, but god forbid she say she actually missed you.

You held your hands up in mock surrender, “Hey, I don’t really have room to judge anymore. Not hard to fall in love with the boss.”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t been with anyone else. It’s been almost a year.” Billie said, knowing she was only trying to crush her own heart, beat it into submission with the idea that you really had moved on, that she wasn’t as important as she thought she was.

You gave a half-hearted shrug, not wanting to make the woman feel any worse, but Billie knew what it meant, because it was you. You weren’t the type to fall into bed with just anyone. Sure, you weren’t a virgin when you met, but your body count was confined to one hand, two fingers. Billie, and that guy from college that you swore you were going to marry, until you realized he was a dick and you deserved better. You always were her better half, the only one that seemed to quell her endless impulses. She was better because of you, and then she had to blow it all to shit.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” Billie asked as your eyebrows furrowed, “That night, when I made you leave. Why didn’t you stop me?” The question seemed out of the blue, but really it was something she had been agonizing over for months. It wasn’t the first time Billie had acted out and tried to break things off, but it was the first time you didn’t fight back, didn’t force her to sit down and prevent the forest fire erupting inside of her. For as rash as she was, you were the voice of reason, or you had been until that night. That night you just let it burn, let her tear down the house you built brick by brick and swim in the ashes, alone.

“Because I knew I couldn’t.” You said after a moment, taking a note from Billie’s book and staring at your glass of wine as you swirled it around the rim, “You had to figure it out on your own.”

Billie set her jaw, hating that you always seemed to be 10 steps ahead of her, “Figure what out?”

“Why did you call me over here, Billie?” You fired back as you snapped your gaze up, almost like a challenge. You had tried to pull the answer out gently, a subtle game of tug of war, but she was locked up tight, and you were tired of being gentle. Being gentle is what got you into this mess in the first place.

But Billie was her own special kind of stubborn, and your aggression just made her dig her heels in, “I don’t even remember calling you.”

Still, you weren’t going to give up just yet, “But you did.”

Billie straightened her shoulders and picked up her wine, “But I did.”

You let out a barely audible grunt, standing from the couch and collecting the still full pizza box and your wine, heading to the kitchen. You didn’t know why you answered her call, but you did, and now you were here, playing some fucked up game of poker. You both knew why she called, but she wouldn’t say it, and you were about five seconds from exploding.

“What are you doing?” Billie asked in a sarcastic tone, trying to suppress the overwhelming fear that was carving its way into her bones. She hated this, hated knowing you had the upper hand, that you could say and do whatever you wanted and she would buckle instantly. She hated that her heart raced every time you left the room, that she felt every single millimeter of distance between you, hated that the only thing she wanted was to close that gap and be in your arms. It was easy to say she hated you. Hate was easier to deal with, hate lived inside your soul and no one else’s. Hate didn’t need constant validation or reassurances. Hate was solitary, stable, it didn’t fade with time, not like love did.

“Cleaning up. I’m going to get you into bed and then I’m going to go.” You said flatly, forcing yourself to strip every ounce of emotion from your tone. You couldn’t force her to talk to you, but you could make the decision to leave before she kicked you out again.

“Go?” Billie asked, cursing herself for the tears she felt welling up and the rise in her pitch.

“Yea, back to…” You trailed off before shaking your head, “I have to go.”

Billie cleared her throat, trying to keep herself in check, “You could just stay here.” She glanced back at you and you shook your head, and Billie hated how her chest got tight at the very idea of you being gone, of her being alone in this house once again, “You’ve been drinking.”

“I didn’t drive.” You said, crossing your arms and fixating on a scuff on the floor.

“Y/n. Stay, please…” Billie said weakly, blinking rapidly as if that would make the impending waterworks come to a halt.

“That isn’t a good idea….” You said, pausing for a moment and shaking your head before heading back into the kitchen to finish up. If you stayed, it would only prolong whatever this was. You hated hurting her, but you also hated how she made you feel. She made you feel crazy, and there was nothing you hated more than that.

Billie knew she was royally fucking this up, as she always did. It shouldn’t have been hard, just three words, I love you, and everything would be fixed. What was she so afraid of? That she would lose you? She already lost you, and she would again if she didn’t just say the damn words.

Sucking in a deep breath, she untangled herself from the blankets and slowly walked towards the kitchen, trying to mentally prepare herself. “You know… when I was in Europe, there was this one ghost I met.” She said, waiting for you to show some kind of response before she continued. It took a moment, but you finished washing the pan you were working on and laid your palms flat on the edge of the sink, turning your head towards her, “He had been in the war, shipped out the day he turned eighteen. He didn’t want to go, but he didn’t have a choice. He had a girlfriend, wanted to marry her, but he never told her he loved her. He regretted it, obviously, but he didn’t think he was going to come back, didn’t want her to have to deal with that kind of loss. He didn’t come back, he died in the trenches, but he wished he would have told her, even once. I did some research, found her. She was 85, got married and had six kids, a bus load of grandchildren. I explained everything to her, told her who I was. You know what she said to me when I told her?”

“What?” You asked with a gravelly voice, and Billie waited a moment until you looked up at her, “What, Bill?”

“She said she already knew. She always knew, even though he could never say it. He was the love of her life, of course she knew. He had spent years, trapped by this guilt, and she knew the entire time.” Billie said softly, shaking her head, “All those years… wasted, wandering around, all for nothing.”

“That’s not why he was trapped.” You blurted, clenching your jaw as you wiped your hands on the kitchen towel, “He wasn’t trapped because he thought she didn’t know, he was trapped because she knew and he still didn’t have the guts to say it, because then it was real. Not saying it… it doesn’t make it easier, it just makes you a coward, lets you hide in plain sight. She knew, but there was always an uncertainty about it.” You felt the tears beginning to pile up behind your eyelids, tried to swallow down the thickness in your voice before you cleared your throat, “That’s why he was trapped. That’s what kept him here.”

Billie dropped her head, giving a solemn nod. You were right, you always were right. She was a coward, terrified to give up even an ounce of control. She always was so detached, aloof, at least before you. Now, things were different, and she was struggling to catch up.

When you were the one to break the silence, Billie was surprised, shooting her head up. “I’m glad you were able to help her, though. Make it concrete or whatever. Even if it did take 60 years, it’s better than nothing.” You said, walking towards the center of the room and shuffling your feet, like you were only seconds from gathering your things and walking out the door.

Your mask was quickly slipping, and now Billie knew for certain that you were still in pain, not that she couldn’t assume it already. You were always just so damn good about hiding your feelings, about putting everyone else above yourself, like you didn’t matter. She could see your hurt plain as day now, and she wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. She could feel the words bubbling up in her stomach, but they would lodge in her throat, making it hard to even breathe. She had to kiss you, had to do it right then and there, because it was the only way she knew how to convey every single thing she was feeling for you. She told you she loved you with every kiss, every touch. It was easy to love you that way, but the words were harder, more complicated and weighted.

She moved towards you without even thinking, and you stepped back, playing that game over and over until you were pressed up against the counter with nowhere to run. “Billie…” You whispered, pressing your hands on her shoulders to keep her just out of range.

“Just let me show you.” Billie pleaded, your faces only inches apart. If you would just release your grip, even just a hair, she would be able to do it.

“We can’t.” You stated, holding firm.

“Why not?” Billie practically whined.

“Because I won’t wait 60 years.” You shot back.

“Do you still love me?” Billie asked.

“You know I do.” You said with a sigh, relieved when Billie finally stopped pushing against you, but she still was close, too close. Close enough that you were teetering on the edge of losing all willpower and burrowing into her arms.

“Y/n, I was scared out of my mind. The accident….” Billie fumbled, trying to put a million complicated feelings into one simple sentence.

You nodded slightly, “I know.”

“I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. I can’t lose you.” Billie said firmly.

“I told you I loved you and you kicked me out.” You stated, the bitterness creeping its way into your tone.

Billie softened, “I know, and I’m sorry, I am. Sweetheart, you know I care about you.”

You swallowed thickly, “And I care about you, you know I do.”

“Then stay.” Billie said, drawing out every letter.

You shook your head, “It’s not that simple.”

Billie was emphatic now, practically wailing, “It is, I love you and you love me.” She didn’t even realize she was saying it, the words slipping out so effortlessly the second she wasn’t thinking about it. But something changed in the expression on your face, and she had to ask, “What?”

“Say it again.” You insisted.

“What? That I love you and you love me?” Billie asked, the words taking a moment to register, a brief moment of panic rushing through her irises. Her shoulders relaxed, like a weight had been lifted, and she looked back at you. “I love you.” She said, like she was realizing it for the first time, like she hadn’t spent months staring at the wall and thinking it over and over again.

You let out an amused, breathy laugh, “Wasn’t so scary, was it?”

“Terrifying, actually.” Billie said, eyes wide like she was still considering taking it back.

“Only when you thought about it.” You teased, a genuine smile finally gracing your lips.

The medium started fidgeting, like a kid anxiously awaiting a treat, “Can I kiss you now?” She needed reassurance, needed something familiar to remind herself she wasn’t alone in this, that the words didn’t just simply vanish into thin air, that all her anxiety and suffering wasn’t for nothing. Your grin grew wider, and she instinctually stepped forward, leaning into you, but at the last moment you stepped back.

“No, but you can take me upstairs.”

#this fic is steadily going downhill #but you know what its fine #everything is fine #billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #AHS #ahs murder house #sarah paulson x reader

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warlockofealdor · 4 years

Text

love how whenever i announce my intentions with a particular writing project, i immediately lose all motivation and energy to finish writing it-

#this has happened with nanowrimo events a few times #and with that autumn fic challenge for the untamed #and now with camelove #was working quite happily on the various prompts in january and then as soon as february hit and i said i'd be doing it #my writing progress has been going steadily downhill #something about making my projects public before they're done (when there's a deadline) just seems to completely kill it #but i guess at least there's still 3 days until the first fic has to be done

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thatonegirlwhowrites · 2 years

Note

My request contains volume two spoilers!!

Steve x mayfield reader where she wants to be vecnas bait instead of max and reader get badly hurt. Maybe she only breaks two bones and is blind in one eye. Lots of angst but a fluffy ending.

Thanks!

Pinky Promises || Steve Harrington

VOLUME TWO SPOILERS

Summary: Reader takes Max’s place to be Vecnas bait, but it doesn’t end well when promises start to break and worlds start to crumble.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Mayfield!Reader, Max Mayfield x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for volume two, violence, angst, broken bones, blindness, blood, fluff, grammatical errors (this is not proof read at the moment)

Notes: not gonna lie, this fic had me getting all emotional also I’d just like to add that Eddie is mentioned in this and is alive because I’m just gonna forget what happened to him in vol 2 :)

2.5k words

Masterlist

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“I need you to pinky promise that you are going to come back to me.” Steve's voice was low as you prepared to step out of the RV with your sister, Lucas, and Erica.

Your eyes immediately softened as you connected your pinky to his, “I pinky promise that I will come back to you, Steve.” You meant every word.

Steve relaxed a tiny bit, “I love you, Mayfield.”

“I love you too Harrington, be safe.” You let your pinky slip from his as you stepped outside of the RV where the three other kids had been waiting for you.

You immediately knew the look on your sister's face, “I should be the one doing this, not you. Vecna hasn't even cursed you y/n, you have no idea what you are walking into!”

You knew in Max’s mind it probably didn't make much sense, but you would do anything in the world to keep her safe. “Max, I'm the big sister. My job is to protect you and that's exactly what I'm going to do. Everything is going to be okay. I’ve got this I promise.”

Another promise.

You wanted more than anything to keep those promises, but things weren’t looking good for you.

Things had steadily gone downhill as soon as you were put into vecna's trance. On the outside, the kids were trying to fight off Jason Carver and you were currently watching El struggle to keep up with vecna.

You weren't exactly sure how Eleven had managed to find you or how she got into your mind, but she had. At first, she had the upper hand but it was clear now as you were held up against a disjointed piece of the creel house in vecna's mind that this was a losing game for you.

You could barely see anything but a red glow all around you, your vision and mind were hazy from getting thrown around in your memory earlier.

“It's time Y/n.” the sinister voice you had learned to become familiar with over the last hour rang closely to your ears. Your vision focused enough to see Vecna standing in front of you, El still far away from you and held down by the vines.

Tears ran down both your cheeks. You knew this was it, and all you could think about is the people you would be leaving behind. The promises that would be shattered in the next few moments.

“You were brave Y/n, and now I will make the suffering stop.” With that, his hands came up to your face.

Immediately an awful sensation ran through your body. All of your muscles felt like they had been tightened, and your mind began to fog. People's faces flashed in and out of your head, and they soon began to jumble together. The pressure continued to worsen as vecna sank his nails into your skull. You could feel yourself dying…slipping away from consciousness.

You were waiting for the pain to stop, for vecna to take everything away from you.

The relief never came, instead, a deafening scream sounded in your ears before everything was completely black. You felt like you were drowning, unable to navigate through what was happening.

You could still faintly feel vecna's mind connected to yours, but that was ripped away too as you were brought back to reality.

“Oh god! Y/n! Y/n please!” Max was screaming. You could hear her, but there was something wrong with your eyes.

“I-I can’t-.” Your breathing quickened as the pain set in.

You blinked as hard as you could, your vision was blurred but you could make out some of Max’s features. “Ev-Everything hurts.” You sobbed.

You could feel your sister's arms shaking underneath you, trying to pull you up…trying to keep you alive.

“Erica! Call 911, We need help!” You could hear Lucas yelling now too, but you were far too weak to look around for him.

“Y/n, please stay awake. Please, help is gonna come okay? Just hang on.” Despite the unbearable pain raking through your body, somehow the thought of leaving your little sister behind without anyone hurt even more.

“I’m n-not ready to go.” You could feel every ounce of strength you had left starting to drain from your body, leaving your eyes dropping with the weight, “Lucas help!” Max was sobbing uncontrollably as she took your face in her hands trying to keep you awake.

“You gotta stay awake.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make you push open your eyes once again. The vision in one of your eyes was a bit clearer now and you could see the distress on her face.

“I’m trying Max. I don’t want to leave you.” Salty tears mixed with the blood that stained your cheeks, “I’m just so tired.” you mustered what strength you had and pulled your hand to cover hers that rested on your face. You knew your other hand was broken and by the feeling in your legs, you also knew at least one of them was as well.

It felt like ages that you laid there like that, trying to hang on to consciousness as it became increasingly more difficult. “What's taking Erica so long! The ambulance should be here by now!”

Lucas had not moved to sit next to Max trying to tell you both it wouldn't be long, but any hopes of getting medical help anytime soon went out the window when the youngest Sinclair ran into the room, “No one will help! I've tried every house and no one will answer. I don't know what to do!” Erica was hysterical and even though she kept a brave face most of the time, it wasn't easy seeing someone she cared for dying.

“I-It's okay.” You shakily spoke, suddenly hyper-aware of what was coming soon.

“No! No! You listen to me, you are not dying Y/n! Please just stay awake!” She held you tighter against her, hoping that would somehow do something.

You could feel your mind slipping away, but once again you opened your eyes when you heard a commotion. You could see mainly Robin and Nancy but a few seconds later Steve, Eddie, and Dustin all came into view.

Your heart ached at the sight of Steve…you don't want him to remember you like this.

“Steve, w-we have to get her help. She- She-.” Max couldn't dare finish her sentence, she couldn't admit that her sister was dying in her arms.

Steve dropped to his knees, tears already falling as he took the weight of your body from Max’s shaking form.

“Y/n.” His voice cracked, letting a sob escape his lips as he could feel how cold your skin was.

“I’m sorry for breaking our pinky promise.” Your voice was getting weaker and the pain started to numb as the seconds passed.

“No baby you didn't break it. You are gonna get out of this.” You could tell he didn't really believe what he was saying, “I gotta get you up baby. We are gonna take you to the hospital. You just gotta hang on for 15 more minutes. That's all.” As the words left his mouth he scooped you up as gently as possible, but pain shot through your head and two of your limbs.

In a way the pain was good, it was better than numb.

“I can’t Steve. I can’t.” You cried as he carried you down the steps and outside into the camper where Eddie began to drive quickly to the hospital.

Max was holding the knot with your good hand while Steve cradled your body, “Look sweetheart, the hard parts over.” Steve sniffled.

The numb feeling began to wash back over your body and you lost the feeling of Max’s hand on yours and eventually you couldn’t feel Steve's hold either.

It was your time, “M-Max honey. I love you so much okay? I-I need you to know that this wasn't your fault.” You wished you could hug her or even grip her hand for reassurance, but all of your feelings were gone. “Max please, tell me you know this isn't your fault.” you needed to hear it. You needed to know she would be okay without you.

“I-I know it's not my fault Y/n,” She dropped her head into your neck and hugged you, “I love you, please don't leave me.” You didn't want to leave her, but you knew it wasn't your choice.

You looked up to catch Steve's eyes, “I love you, Harrington.”

“Y/n we are not doing this! W-We were supposed to- to buy that camper. Just like this one, remember? Our- our six little nuggets. Y/n please we still have so much future ahead of us.” He sobbed as he could see life begin to drain faster from your face.

“Promise to take care of Max, please.” It was the last thing you let slip out before the remaining breath fell from your lungs and your vision and mind went black.

“Y/n?” Steve looked into your eyes, this time they were void of life.

Max let out a heart-wrenching scream, begging for you to wake back up.

Steve suddenly couldn't breathe, “No, no, no.” He cried.

They had arrived at the hospital only a few moments later…a few moments too late.

5 weeks later.

Steve had taken care of Max the last few weeks, just how you asked. Day in and day out he was there.

Max and Steve both had spent countless nights in your hospital room, hoping you would wake up. Though hope began to diminish with every passing day. The worst thing was the fact that no one knew why you weren't waking up. All but one broken leg had healed, and your body should have been plenty well-rested.

For weeks you were stuck in darkness. You assumed you were dead, or maybe in some kind of limbo but when you kept hearing familiar voices you knew something was off. You had accepted that this was just going to be your forever, that was until you heard some kind of music playing. It was a kate bush song, one you had heard Max play a thousand times. So you followed the noise until you couldn't follow it anymore.

Your eyes slowly opened, letting in the lights

“Holy shit.” You recognized the voice of your sister and could now see her face.

Something was off though, your vision.

“What? I, what?” You were confused.

At the sound of your voice, Max jumped up from the edge of your bed and hollered very loudly for a doctor and for Steve?

“Y/n it's okay! You're okay!” You could see the grin on her face, giving you some kind of relaxation.

Everything was fuzzy, but the memories began to flood your thoughts.

You died. You were sure of it.

You hadn't had time to ask any questions before a doctor and several nurses poured into your hospital room. They poked and prodded for what felt like hours.

All you wanted was to talk to your sister, and you wanted to see Steve. You hadn't even been able to see him yet.

The doctors informed you that you had been in a coma for 5 weeks, they had told you that you were hurt during the earthquake, yet you knew that was not even close to what happened. The mention of an earthquake also was confusing you.

Thankfully the doctors had left your room, leaving you in peace with your sister and now your boyfriend as well.

Steve was quick to run up to your bed, he hadn't gotten to see your face yet. He wanted to look into your eyes. Your very much alive eyes. “I thought you were gone. I-I thought I lost you.” tears streamed down his cheeks, but his lips were graced with a smile.

“I hate breaking pinky promises.” You wince slightly as you let out a small laugh.

You pull Steve onto the bed with you and motion Max to come to the other side.

You would worry about all of the details later, but right now you wanted to worry about your sister and boyfriend.

“Steve took care of me like you asked.” Max sniffled, pulling her head to rest on your shoulder.

You couldn't help but let a smile find its way onto your face, “He better have.”

“Please never leave me alone with her again.” Steve teased, causing Max to playfully hit him in the head.

Your thoughts circled back to why your vision looked so off, it was almost as if you had lost a chunk of your peripheral vision, “What's w-wrong with my eyes.”

You were scared to know the answer, and neither Steve nor Max knew how to tell you so instead Max opted for handing you a mirror.

Shock ran through your veins at the sight of your discolored eye. Your left eye had been perfectly normal in color, yet your other eye was a hazy gray. You closed only your left eye leaving you with absolutely nothing to see.

“I'm blind?”

“Only halfway. Your vision is still perfect in your good eye. The doctor said we just might need to get you some glasses so the good eye doesn't have to strain so much.” Max explained as you handed the mirror back to her.

Steve could already see where your mind was going, “Sweetheart, you are as beautiful as always.”

You sighed, “I-Its gray and ugly.”

“It's a part of you, and it's just as beautiful as it was before. Also, for what it's worth, I think it's pretty badass.” You realized he was onto something with the badass part, “Yeah I guess it is pretty badass.”

“Hell yeah, it is,” Max added in.

A few minutes later Max had run to the cafeteria to snag as many puddings as she could.

“I was really scared.” Steve scooted as close to you as he could on the bed.

“Me too.”

“I love you.” Steve let a tear slip from his eye, “I didn't even get to say it back that night. Y-You told me you loved me and I didn't say it back. Y/n I always say it back, b-but I was just-” He stopped himself before he went fully into a panic attack, trying to smooth his breath.

You hadn't realized just how much of a toll this whole event had taken on him and Max both, “Steve you didn't have to say it back. I already knew.”

You shakily brought your hand up to cup his cheek, “I'm here now, and you can tell me you love me every day for the rest of my very long life.”

Max quietly walked back into the room with several different pudding flavors, “Are we crying again? I don’t want to cry anymore.” She huffed while trudging over to you.

“We are not crying anymore. Consider this a no-cry zone as of now.” You softly ran your fingers under Steve's eyes as he set up.

Before you could say much more, you could hear many footsteps outside, “Oh yeah I should warn you...everyone is about to-” Max was quickly cut off when several people fell into your room.

“Y/N!” It was a simultaneous yell between Nancy, Robin, Eddie, Dustin, Will, Jonathan, Mike, and Eleven.

“Oh my god.” You snorted in laughter.

“Badass eye.” Dustin pointed while going in for the first hug.

“I know right.”

———————————————————————————

#stranger things requests #stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #max mayfield #max mayfield x sister!reader #steve Harrington x mayfield!reader #vecna stranger things

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wizardofrozz · 3 years

Text

Unexpected Cluster

Peter Parker x Widow!Reader, Yelena Belova, OCs

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: grief, No Way Home spoilers, mention of violence, mention of mind control

A/N: Alright, here we go! First, thank you again to @bbyzuzu for helping with this ongoing fic 💕 This takes place a few months after the event of No Way Home and the Hawkeye series and there will be spoilers for both so fair warning.

Picture and dividers are mine

Chapter 1

Peter was perched on the roof of his apartment building, his unruly curls blowing in the cool breeze as he watched the sun steadily set. It felt like finding a glimmer of happiness was always at the top of his to-do list for the past few months. Peter was adjusting to his new life in the aftermath of Dr. Strange’s spell despite the progress being slow. He had grown to like his little apartment, every leak and creaky board that was aggravating at first had become more endearing, making it feel like his. His day job at the library a few blocks away allowed him more resources to study for his GED and patrolling the streets at night helped fill the void in his heart. Peter had steadily decreased the amount of time he spent outside the coffee shop MJ worked at until he stopped going completely. He decided to let her have a good, safe life and he had to stick to it, no matter how debilitating the loneliness was.

Being Spiderman did help him feel like himself but even that was going downhill, slowly but surely. If Peter wasn’t careful, he would lose control, taking out all of the pain and agony on the criminal of the day. He thought about giving up on being Spiderman but the idea of turning his back on innocent people made his stomach churn. Although, the life-threatening injuries he was handing out were concerning, to say the least. Peter 3’s words still echoed in his mind, making him feel even worse.

At some point, I just…I stopped pulling my punches. I got rageful. I got bitter.

Peter blew out a long breath as the last rays of sunlight shimmered across the sky and he stood up, looking down at the mask in his hand. Taking one more deep breath, Peter pulled his mask on and dove off the building.

The city was fairly quiet as Peter silently patrolled overhead. Peter eventually dropped onto the side of an apartment building bordering Hell’s Kitchen, reminding himself to keep an eye out for another red suit lurking in the shadows. He plopped onto the ledge with a huff, letting his legs swing as he tilted his head back to stare up at the moon. Peter was so engrossed by the hills and valleys on the moon’s surface he barely stopped himself from falling off the building when a loud crash exploded from the alley behind him. He scrambled to his feet and hurried across the roof, peering over the edge to find the source of the disturbance.

Peter’s eyes widened when he saw four figures running down the narrow back alley; it was too dark for him to make out any distinguishing features, but it didn’t matter much. He dove off the building, his web catching him at the last second; he stayed as quiet as possible as he bounced between buildings until he caught up to the mystery assailants. Peter could tell they were four women as he closed in and it appeared they were working in teams of two; just as he was close enough to cut them off, the blonde from the farther group lunged forward, tackling one woman as the other fled. Peter launched himself forward with as much momentum as he could manage and landed a few feet from the struggling women.

“Hey!” he shouted but neither appeared to care. Peter rolled his eyes, ready to break them apart when shimmering scarlet dust exploded above the pair; he cowered away, throwing his arm up to cover his head as the glittery particles settled. Peter peaked over his arm when their scuffling spotted and found the blonde woman rolling off the still body under her. Her chest was heaving as she stared up at the dark sky; she jolted when Peter moved, her head tipping back to lock eyes with him.

“Hey, you’re that spider guy,” she snorted with an upside-down smirk. Peter couldn’t place her accent, although it sounded Russian maybe? More importantly, she sounded amused, and Peter took that as a good sign.

“Uh, Spiderman, yeah,” Peter replied cautiously, taking another step closer. The blonde heaved herself forward, slowly climbing to her feet and brushing off her black jumpsuit, offering Peter a devious grin.

“Must be my lucky day,” she laughed, darting her eyes to the unconscious woman at her feet.

“No, hold up,” Peter snapped, shaking his head violently.

“Look I don’t have time to explain this,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re a hero, yes?”

“Yeah, I mean I guess so,” Peter stammered, still trying to wrap his head around what was going on. The blonde opened her mouth to talk again but paused, tilting her head forward like she was listening to something; her eyes flickered up to Peter after a few seconds and she nodded.

“I’ll find you, Anya,” she sighed, turning her attention to Peter again. “What’s your name?”

“Me?” Peter squeaked, his head jerking back unconsciously.

“Yes, you,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes again.

“Why would I tell you? W-What’s your name?” Peter rushed out, forcing himself not to cross his arms like a defiant child.

“Yelena,” she sighed, shifting her weight impatiently.

“P-Peter,” he breathed, blinking at her and Yelena snickered.

“I like that your mask blinks,” she chuckled, her smile growing. Peter self-consciously touched his mask but the sharp clap of Yelena’s hand hitting together snapped his attention back to her. “I’m running out of time. Look do you know what the Red Room is?” Peter’s eyes widened and Yelena’s lip twitched up; he only heard a few stories from Mr. Stark about the Red Room, but it was enough for him to despise it on principle.

“The Red Room is gone,” Peter insisted, crossing his arms.

“It is now,” Yelena corrected, tilting her head, making her braid fall off her shoulder. “I’m working on deprogramming the remaining Widows.” Yelena gestured at the shape at her feet, drawing Peter’s eyes to the woman, no girl, on the ground. Peter blanched when he focused on her face, realizing she was his age and he instantly felt terrible for her. Peter slowly shuffled closer, lowering himself to his knees next to her as he studied her features.

“She’s alive, right?” Peter asked, looking over his shoulder at Yelena.

“Yes, but I need you to keep an eye on her while I go find my partner and the other Widow she’s chasing,” Yelena informed, raising a brow at him.

“Me? Why me?”

“You’re a hero, right?” Yelena smirked, starting to walk backward. When Peter didn’t object Yelena laughed before turning and running towards the end of the alleyway.

“How do I find you when she wakes up!” Peter yelled, staring at Yelena’s retreating figure.

“Stay there!” was all Yelena offered before she was gone. Peter dropped back onto his ass, staring at the ground beneath his feet as he tried to figure out how the hell he managed to get himself tangled up with the Red Room.

After over an hour with no word from Yelena or movement from the deprogrammed Widow, Peter gently pulled her from the middle of the alleyway. Once he propped her up against the building, he stood over her, tilting his head to study her features again. Peter held his breath when her hand twitched, his eyes darting up to hers, watching her lids flutter revealing slightly glazed eyes. He watched her look over herself, opening and closing her fists a few times before her eyes started to move upward.

“Uh, hi,” Peter tried, awkwardly waving. Her face fell and Peter could see fear blowing out her pupils as she survived her surroundings. “Hey, you’re okay. I’m, uh, Spiderman. I’m not gonna hurt you.” Peter knelt down, keeping a safe distance in hopes the Widow wouldn’t attack him.

“What happened to me?” she demanded, subtly scooting away from him.

“Yelena freed you from the Red Room’s control,” Peter replied softly, lazily wrapping his arms around his bent leg, folding his other underneath him.

“I’m – I’m free,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes, and his heart ached for her. Seeing the relief cross her face as she realized it was over made her look radiant. Beautiful even. Peter shoved down the thought that made guilt twist in his stomach and he nodded, wishing he could give her a reassuring smile.

“You’re free,” Peter echoed. A shaky smile spread across her face as she wiped away tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/N),” she whispered hesitantly, staring into his eyes. He repeated her name with a nod and her smile grew the slightest bit. “Do you have a name? Or should I just call you Spidey?” Peter chuckled, letting his head fall forward as he shook it; he debated on keeping it to himself but what was the point? No one knew who he was anymore.

“Uh, Peter. My name’s Peter,” he confessed, keeping his eyes on the concrete under them.

“Peter,” she breathed, drawing his attention again. (Y/N) nodded once as she wiggled around, pulling her legs to her chest and resting her chin on her knees. “Well, Peter, what do we do now?”

“Yelena told me to stay here until she got back,” he supplied with a faint shrug, resting his chin on his knee too.

“Okay,” she hummed offering him a half-smile. They fell silent after that, both of their eyes trailing over the other, avoiding eye contact as they studied the person opposite them. Peter anticipated the silence to be awkward, but it was surprisingly nice. He had made a few acquittances in the past few months, but everything felt strained by everything he was hiding and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if a friendship with (Y/N) could be different.

“Hey, you stayed!” Peter jolted out of his thoughts, turning his head to find Yelena walking toward them.

“Yelena,” (Y/N) breathed, her face lighting up as the blonde moved closer. (Y/N) jumped to her feet, slipping around Peter to nearly tackle her adopted sister.

“How are you feeling?” Yelena laughed, hugging the younger girl close.

“Okay,” (Y/N) sighed, taking a step back.

“For now,” Yelena corrected, her mouth forming a thin line. Peter climbed to his feet again, lingering in the background as the two women caught up; he thought about making his exit but something was keeping him there.

“What’s my next move?” (Y/N) wondered aloud, wrapping her arms around her stomach, making herself look smaller than before.

“You’ll have to come with Anya and me until we can find you somewhere,” Yelena huffed, resting a hand on (Y/N)’s arm, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“You don’t have anywhere to go?” Peter spoke up suddenly, surprising himself. The two Widows turned their attention to him, (Y/N) shaking her head, looking a little embarrassed at the thought.

“We’ll find her somewhere,” Yelena assured, a ghost of a smile lingering on her face. Peter had the sudden urge to offer his apartment but there was barely enough room for him, let alone another person. “We should find Anya and Iza. We need to get you two off the streets.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) sighed, glancing over at where Peter was shuffling his feet. “Thank you, Peter.” He looked up, meeting her eyes, and smiled under his mask before remembering she couldn’t see it.

“It was no biggie,” Peter insisted, rubbing at the back of his neck. “S-Stay safe.”

“You too,” (Y/N) giggled, her smile growing a tiny bit brighter.

“We’ll see ya ‘round, spider guy,” Yelena snickered, winking at Peter before pulling (Y/N) into a jog. Peter watched their outlines disappear around the corner, leaving him standing in the empty alleyway with the rising sun warming his back.

Peter landed on the roof of his apartment building when the sun was half-visible over the horizon, leaving parts of the neighborhood still blanketed in shadows. He pulled his phone from the pocket on the inside of his suit and groaned, realizing he had less than two hours before his shift started. On the bright side, he hadn’t been in any fights that night so even though he was exhausted, at least he wasn’t sore too.

Peter climbed down the side of the building as quickly as he could, dropping into his apartment with a soft thud. He sucked in a clean breath after tugging his mask off, shaking his head to fix his smooshed hair. Peter peeled his suit off as he wandered towards his bedroom, flapping his bent arm like a bird when his hand got stuck. He finally kicked his suit away when he stumbled into the bathroom sink, his hand shooting out to catch the bottle of soap before it hit the ground; he cranked the water up to as hot as he could handle before stepping into the shower.

Peter stumbled out of his apartment 20 minutes later, shaking his head like a dog, spraying the peeling walls of the hall with water as he hurried towards the steps. The warmth from the sun dried his hair by the time he made it to the coffee shop inside the library. Armed with more espresso than any human should consume, Peter dropped into the chair behind the counter with a groan. He already knew it was going to be a long day and worst of all, his mind kept drifting to the newly reformed assassin that left her mark on him.

Chapter 2 | Masterlist

Taglist: @itsafansworld07 @mrsamerica

#peter parker #spiderman #widow!reader #peter parker x widow!reader #the red room #no way home spoilers #yelena belova #mcu spoilers #marvel #tom!peter parker #tom!spiderman #unexpected cluster #peter parker x reader

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void-inked-pen · 2 years

Note

From some of your posts I get the impression you dont like talking/being reminded of TTB rn, and as someone who is only primarily a writer, (and can never finish writing a multichaptered fic personally, so godspeed to you) I get it. But I just wanted to say I read up to where you left off in the entirety of this afternoon at my work shift and really enjoyed my time! I really cant do *too* long form fics, because there's too much text in the way, but I was really looking for something that hit just that right word count and... I guess action/suspense/angst combo? Which it did! Because I went in expexting hiatus anyways, I sort of feel content where I've left off. So I appreciate that you put it out there in the first place, and I'm sorry if people are overly pushy about it, but thank you for posting in the first place!

awwww thank you! im glad you liked it.

to be honest im okay with people asking me questions about the fic but just not pestering me about when I will post again. I do plan to get back around to finishing it (where we just hit in TTB was pretty much the climax and now we're going to steadily go back downhill) but my attention is elsewhere rn.

If you have theories you wanna send me about the fic, art, just general questions about the story that doesn't have to do with spoilers, I am willing to answer and share! (heck it might even motivate me to finish it!)

just don't ask me about when I will update or anything because that is a great way to put pressure on a creative. if you show enthusiasm, I'll respond with enthusiasm. but if you just shout at me to finish a thing, that's a guarantee I will ignore the project until you shut up. (this isn't just a me thing btw, I know my friends get really annoyed when people ask this sort of thing too) SO ye!

happy you liked the fic~ there is a lot I put into it and so far no one has guessed what the solution to their problem is (regardless of how many clues I threw in since chapter 1) thanks for reading!

#pen talks #time ticks by #ttb #rottmnt #fanfic #q's

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velkynkarma · 2 years

Note

yo, thanks for the signal boost on the ffnet thing-- went and tried to save some of my past favorites into the wayback machine, but when I accessed the snapshot I'd just created to view it, it straight up said "This web property is not accessible via this address" in the wayback machine snapshot/page viewer instead of showing me the snapshot as I created it. I'm afraid it's goin /down/ down. (Also, the Fichub is a decent online ff downloader, and organizes chapters well, if app download = no)

No problem! Yeah, FF.net has been going steadily downhill for years. It's unfortunate, but what can you do? I have copies of all my fics still so I can always repost them on AO3, but the real loss will be all the fics from people who never cross posted and their accounts are clearly inactive.

#Velkynkarma answers

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es-kay-zee · 3 years

Text

Vice | Bang Chan x Reader

pairing: chan x gn!reader

genre: angst

warnings: this fic contains lots of mentions of drinking and alcoholism, so if that’s not for you, then don’t read this, and there’s mentions of sex but there’s no smut, mentions of sex while drunk (reader and idol under the influence)

requested: nope, i got sad so i wrote angst lol

word count: 1.7k

proofread: a little bit

taglist: @bxngchxn @jisungsplatforms @hyunsluvv @qtieskz

a/n: i didn’t spend much time on this so i’m sorry it’s poorly written :( if parts don’t make sense please let me know and i’ll try to fix it

____________________

the edge of your glass rests upon your bottom lip when you see him. he stands by one of the few tables in the club, resting his weight upon his forearms. he looks up, his eyes searching the room before looking back down at his phone, a frown forming on his face.

you’ve seen many attractive men in your life, but there’s something about him. he’s enticing, alluring, and he hasn’t even looked at you. his dark hair is messy, intentionally so, and he looks so beautiful under the moving lights. normally you wouldn’t have the confidence to approach him, but the liquid courage flows steadily through you, and you find yourself walking towards him without too much forethought.

“hi,” you say, nerves a little more apparent now that you’re in front of him.

he looks at you, standing up straighter before he speaks.

“hello,” he replies. his tone is warm but still sceptical. you can almost see the gears turning in his mind as he tries to work out if he knows you or not.

“i’m y/n. sorry if this is weird, but you’re quite cute so i thought i’d come say hi,” you smile, but you can tell your smile looks awkward.

“huh?” he says, leaning in closer to hear you over the loud music.

your face heats up, but you raise your voice and repeat yourself anyway. you’ve already approached him, might as well commit to it.

“ah,” he says, his hand rising to rub absentmindedly at the back of his neck, a shy smile forming on his face.

“sorry, was that too forward of me?” you take a sip of your drink in an attempt to calm your growing nerves.

“nah, it’s just not very often i get called cute.” he chuckles, and the soft laughter sends a warmth through your heart.

“what? really? it would appear that i have to right this horrible wrong.” another chuckle, and it makes you happy to know you’re the one making him smile and laugh.

“oh, really now?” you nod in response, taking another sip of your drink as you watch the way his eyes sparkle in the dim light of the club. “i’m chan, by the way.”

“you here with anyone?”

he shakes his head before answering. “nah, i was meeting up with a friend but he just messaged saying he’s not coming.”

“damn, that’s no fun,” you reply.

“yeah, but at least you’re here so maybe tonight won’t be such a bust after all.” it’s the way he says it, the teasing, flirting tone that has your heart almost skipping a beat.

“can i buy you a drink in exchange for your company for the night then?” you ask.

after a quick nod of his head, you both walk up to the bar. he orders a drink while you down the rest of yours and quickly order another one. you can barely hear the bartender tell you the price over the thumping of the bass, but you swipe your card, nonetheless.

you drag chan to the dance floor, standing in front of him and beginning to grind back against him in time to the music. he downs half his drink before planting one of his hands on your hip, beginning to move his own with you.

the night carries on, the time spent dancing and drinking together, making out against the wall near the back of the club. you and chan have both lost count of how many drinks you’ve had, but that doesn’t stop him from ordering an uber and taking you back to his place.

when you wake in the morning it’s to an empty bed, and it takes you a moment to realise that you’re not in your own room. you think back, and your most vivid memory is of chan’s lips pressed against your neck while his hands roamed your body. you smile as the rest of last night’s events return to you.

you sit up, ignoring the way your head sways and throbs slightly at the movement. you grab your clothes, slowly getting dressed. the walk out of the bedroom is slow, and all you can think about is how dry your mouth feels. you don’t make it far out of the room before you’re almost colliding with chan’s chest.

“oh,” he exclaims, surprised to run into you. “i was just coming to see if you were awake.”

you look at him, your eyes squinting from the sunlight, and you can make out the smile on his face. it’s shy, just like the one when you told him he was cute the night before. and there’s something about his smile that’s contagious, prompting you to return a smile of your own.

“i’m awake,” you reply, voice still thick with sleep.

“i can tell. i was gonna make us breakfast but i kinda ended up burning it. so should we order something? my shout?”

you’re surprised, really. you were expecting him to kick you out, to send you on your merry way after a night of passion. but here he is, offering to order you breakfast. it’s sweet, and you can’t help but accept.

it’s nearing midday before you have to leave, chan having work in the afternoon. you exchange numbers before you go, promising to message and hopefully turn this one night stand into something more.

your relationship with chan blossoms from there, a couple of weeks spent getting to know each other a bit better before he officially asks you out. it was sweet, the way he did it. a crisp autumn evening curled up on his couch where he asks you the question. but, truth be told, that was the moment it went downhill.

it took him almost three months to notice. or maybe it just took him that long to admit it to himself. he truly wanted to look past the issue, he didn’t want to believe it to be true. but when it caused you to lose your job, he couldn’t ignore your drinking any longer.

looking back on those three months, he knows he should’ve realised sooner. it should have clicked in his mind when most of your dates were spent together in the clubs, dancing and drinking until you could barely stand. even when you weren’t going on dates, just time spent together in the evenings always included you with a drink constantly in your hand.

he wants the best for you, he doesn’t want to see you drown in the alcohol any more than you already are. it’s hard for him, and the months that follow his realisation are filled with countless arguments as he tries desperately to help you escape the clutches of your addiction. but you refuse to see the truth, you refuse to accept that you need help. and chan can’t take it anymore.

your phone buzzes with a message and you pick it up, seeing chan’s name on your screen.

chan: i’m coming over. i’ll be there in 10

you sit back against the couch, staring at the tv while you wait for him to show up. he’s right on time when you hear his rhythmic knock at your apartment door. dragging yourself to your feet, you walk over opening the door for him to enter.

he steps inside, closing the door behind him as he watches you walk towards the living room. he follows you, sighing heavily when he notices the almost empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table. it wasn’t a surprise to see it sitting there, but he still hates the sight.

“how much have you had?”

his question hangs heavy in the air as he awaits your answer, but you don’t give one. you seldom do. in the past, he wouldn’t push you to answer, but this time he does. he has to. he needs you to recognise that you have a problem.

“y/n? how much have you had to drink tonight?”

“why does it matter how much i’ve had?” you say, refilling your empty glass from the bottle and taking a sip, feeling the way it burns a path down your throat.

“because i need to have a serious chat with you, but i can’t do that if you’re drunk.”

“oh? a serious talk? are you here to berate me again?”

“berate you? y/n, i’m trying to help you. i’ve been trying to help you for months.” he runs a hand down his face, trying to calm his growing frustration. “look, i don’t want to do this, okay? i don’t want to break up with you.”

“wait, you’re breaking up with me?”

he pauses, releasing a heavy sigh, laden with sadness. one exhale of air and you can hear the mental exhaustion chan has been dealing with. and it hurts to know you’re the cause of it.

“i am.”

“but why?”

“because i can’t keep doing this. i’ve tried to help you. you say you’ll stop drinking but you don’t. i want to keep helping you, i want you to get better for your own sake. but i can’t be in a relationship with you right now.”

“so you don’t want to be with me anymore?”

“i do, y/n, believe me, i do want to be with you. but i can’t. you’re not okay, and this relationship is taking a toll on me,”

“but i am okay,”

“no, you’re not. people who are okay don’t act like this. they don’t spend this much time drinking. alcohol isn’t going to solve your problems. and even if it somehow did, it wouldn’t matter because it’s only causing you new ones.”

there’s a slew of emotions coursing through you. anger, frustration, sadness. and all you can do to keep them at bay is take another swig of vodka, this time straight from the bottle.

“i’d like for you to leave now.”

“y/n-”

“get out of my apartment.” chan hates the sight of the bottle in your hand, but he hates the crack in your voice more. he wants to hold you, to hug you tight and promise you that you’ll get through this. but he knows that if he stays any longer then you’ll only end up yelling at him.

the alcohol swimming through your veins does little to numb the sting in your heart when he leaves. and it’s only when you hear that door close that you let the tears fall. your relationship with chan felt doomed from the beginning. it began with a drink in your hand, and it ended with one too.

#tw alcohol #stray kids angst #skz angst #bang chan angst #skz chan angst #stray kids chan angst

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quietmyfearswith · 4 years

Text

i’ll drive ; august walker x fem!reader 2/3

status — completed series

word count — 5,933 words

warnings — SMUT, unprotected penetrative sex, soft!august, confused!august

pairing — august walker x fem!reader

a/n — so i had driving lessons last september and thought abt how wow it would make a great story if a driving instructor fell for their student,, and the og idea had in mind was that for a dark fic i might still do one though idk but i never really knew which character to do it for. then i was like what if he was pretending to be a driving instructor and since i just watched mi fallout sometime last month thought id be perfect for august!! sorry i couldn’t publish this any faster, had some things going on offline so yeah lmk what you think of this chapter. there’s only one chapter left! Y/F/N = your father’s name

masterlist | series masterlist

“You want me to do what?” August scoffed as he read the mission file he was handed. Sloane raised a hand to the other agent who was about to explain it again; she knew that the Hammer would more likely accept the mission if she convinced him.

“We want you to pose as a driving instructor; from there you’ll be assigned to Y/N. Her father is Nick Roberts; do you recall who he is?” Nodding, August placed the folder on the desk and looked at Sloane with a scowl, “Yeah, I do. He transports Perez’ drugs and firearms in and out of the country; possibly close ties to even more underground activity.”

“Suspected of transporting,” The other agent — August didn't bother remembering his name since he rarely got to work with him anyway — clarified. “And how will me posing as a driving instructor get us to Nick Roberts?”

“Nick Roberts is just an alias; his real name is Y/F/N, and the one you’ll be assigned in teaching is his daughter. You get close to her, you’ll be able to get to Roberts.” It seemed like too big of a stretch, August quietly reflected; what if she cut ties with her father? What if he really wasn’t her father?

“Considering this is the only lead we have so far on Perez’ case, I’ll do it,” He eventually conceded; Sloane was pleased with that as she smiled, “Very well, take that case file with you to familiarize yourself with Y/N. Your lessons with her will be from Monday to Friday, the whole of next week. Understood?”

With a nod, he grabbed the case file and stood up to exit the room. Heading to his office, he figured that it was best to find out what he can about this Y/N. He read about how she had graduated college and has been steadily working in her chosen profession. Since the separation of her parents she lived with her dad, and by the looks of it has a close bond with him. It was amusing to him how someone of her age still doesn’t know how to drive; but nevertheless it was a blessing in disguise that she didn’t since it helped with their case.

Though her case file had her passport and driving permit photo, August made a reckless decision to look up if she had any social media accounts; and she did. It wasn’t usual for him to look up their target’s social media accounts — in the past he would settle for the provided picture on the mission reports and from there familiarize himself with what they looked like — but there was an itch he needed to scratch. There was something about Y/N that motivated him to look at her photos, thankfully her account was on public. “Can’t wait to see you soon, love.”

Henry James was his alias for this mission and here he was leaning against the parked car as he was waiting for Y/N. He held his breath once the door opened and revealed a girl in a romper. “Hi! Are you Henry?” She was too cheerful in her greeting he noted; perhaps that had something to do with how young and innocent she was. Nodding sternly, “See anyone else beside me, sweetheart?”

She giggled at his remark as she tucked her hair behind her ear — a nervous habit she’d develop. “Go ahead and settle yourself on the front seat.” She nodded and made her way over to the driver’s seat. As she sat down, she placed her bag on the console, “You have your learning permit?” She grabbed the piece of paper that was in the pocket of her romper and handed it over to him; he thanked her as grabbed it and filled out the information he had, “Do you know what to do once you get in the car and onto the driver’s seat?”

“Adjust the seat, adjust the mirrors, check the lights, and make sure I have gas,” She listed out as she did all of those. Clicking the pen once he’s filled in the necessary information he turned to her with a raised brow, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Looking around her, she tried her best to recall the driving lessons she took and when nothing seemed missing to her she just shook her head no with a slight pout — August originally thought was a childish and foolish expression but she just made it look downright adorable.

Y/N held her breath as Henry leaned over to her so close that their noses nearly touched and his fingertips brushed against her skin as he grabbed the seatbelt, dragging it across her to click it in its place. She didn’t expect him to get that close to her, but she certainly wasn’t complaining when it gave her an up close view of how good he looked in that polo shirt; and the man too was surprised at his sudden move — he was debating with himself that he only did so to ensure her safety, just so she’d be alive and share about her father’s whereabouts, but there was this part of him that was convinced that he just wanted a reason to be close to her. “You’re forgetting the most important safety precaution, sweetheart; and that’s to wear your seatbelt.”

Smiling nervously at him she apologized to which he simply grunted at, “I trust you know how to start the engine?” Her confident persona surfaced, her right hand turned the key to start the car as her left hand rested on the wheel. “What do you need to do before pulling away?”

“Check the mirrors for any oncoming vehicles,” She glanced at the rear and side view mirrors, “Look over to your blind spot,” Twisting her head to look over her shoulder and verify that there was no one or nothing that was incoming, “Signal then drive away.” Turning on her signal light, she put the car from park to drive and began leaving her front yard.

August was impressed with her — for someone who was such a fumbling mess earlier was really focused on driving; he thought that was rare for a beginning driver, as they were far too excited at the thought of getting to go anywhere they wanted. “Good job. I have to say your focus is impeccable as well,” His compliment got her nervously saying thanks. “What’s the speed limit for residential areas?”

“30 kilometers per hour; Do I Just go straight?” They were nearing an intersection and she was told, “Yeah go straight; we’re not leaving the neighborhood just yet.” She nodded and just before she got to cross the intersection she hit the brakes smoothly as there was a stop sign. “One car there, still empty there,” Y/N took note as she moved her head left and right to check the traffic situation.

Once the road was clear she drove straight ahead and her instructor applauded her, “When you take the test, don’t be afraid to talk to yourself like that if it helps. And don’t forget to check if there was already a car from the opposite direction with a stop sign; know why?”

She nodded firmly as her eyes shifted from the road ahead, the rear view mirror, and the speedometer, “Because then they’d have right of way.” August noticed how the tone of her voice would differ; during the earlier part of their interaction, it was soft and low, but now as they drove around it was loud and clear. “When is your driver’s exam again?” He knew when she’d take it — he just thought that by asking that he’d somehow be able to milk information regarding her father.

“This Saturday,” She responded and it seemed that she was nervous about it given how her voice lowered again. “Turn right at the next intersection,” He ordered her. Seeing that she had no stop signs in her direction, she turned on the signal light and moved to the appropriate lane. Once she checked that there were no pedestrians crossing, moved to complete her turn.

“Notice how there weren’t any stop signs on two sides and yet there were on the two?” When she nodded he quizzed her again, “What does that mean?” Before answering him there were kids who were about to cross and she stepped on the brakes, coming to a complete stop and smiled as she signaled for the kids to cross. As she waved at the kids who smiled and yelled thank you she answered him, “Means that I have the right of way; even if someone arrives from the directions with stop signs they have to wait for me to pass before going on.”

“It’s great that you know the answers, some don’t,” He fed her some bullshit to which she bought as she softly laughed. “Well I don’t want to have to retake the exam,” Her lack of use of the word again caught his attention and was quick to ask about it, “This is really your first time taking the test?”

She nodded yes as she stopped at a four way stop, allowing a pickup truck that stopped before her. “How come?” Pressing her foot on the gas, she brought the car forward as she explained, “I don’t know really. My dad usually brings me to places or I take the public transport.” Bingo, August thought, here’s a chance to know more about his whereabouts. “And now? You’re dad can’t take you? Turn left on the next intersection.”

Nodding, she checked the pedestrian if there was someone crossing and stopped at the stop sign to check for any oncoming vehicles, “He’s so busy with work that he can’t. Especially now that he’s out of town.” Not enough information, August thought; but he thought that by asking more questions he’d come off as too nosy. “Do you know how to park uphill and downhill?”

“I know which direction I have to turn the wheels to but I haven’t done that yet,” He nodded and instructed her on what to do. After teaching her how to do so properly, they took a break as August made some pointers over the things he observed as she drove. “It’s good that you keep your eyes moving around to check your surroundings; but don’t stay focused on one place for too long.”

Looking over at her, his heart beat fast with how her eyes looked wide and eager — and somehow he adored how innocent she looked, as she had no idea on what kind of world she got herself involved in ; it distracted him for a while but he managed to tear his gaze on her as he cleared his throat, “But sometimes you turn your signal light on too early, so be careful of that. And don’t stop too far from the stop line, that gives you demerit points.”

She nodded and took a mental note of everything he said, “What about with my parking?” Henry opened the door to check the distance of the car from the pavement, “You hill parking is good so far; not too close or too far. Think you can do parallel parking on that car on the next street?” Y/N eyes followed to where his finger pointed to a sedan that was parked, “Might need some help.”

Appreciating her honesty August reassured her, “Don’t worry I’ll guide you through it.” With his words she began to leave where she was parked and crossed the intersection. Once she was helped on the parallel parking process, her instructor beamed at her, “Good job, Y/N!”

“Thanks for your help, Henry,” The agent admittedly was caught off guard at the name she used— his dumb ass nearly corrected her and told him that wasn’t his name — he blamed it with how sweetly yet shyly she thanked him so that made him lose his concentration. “No worries,” He gruffly replied, which had Y/N found was odd with how his mood seemed to shift given his tone.

“Why don’t we head back home but let’s go through the main road; know the speed limit over there?” She nodded her head as she answered, “60 kilometers per hour, but by Hammonds Avenue it reduces to 50.” Satisfied he rubbed his hands over his thighs, “Fantastic! Get on with it, love.”

Her breath hitched at the name he called her and she paused for a second before pulling away; August too had no idea where that came from but he just couldn’t help himself. The rest of the drive on the way home was filled with stiff and tortuous silence; the radio was not turned on since the agent deemed it would distract her from driving. “Do an uphill parking over here,” He pointed to her front porch. She nodded and poked her tongue out a bit as she concentrated on the task at hand. “Okay, now neutral, then all the way to the left.”

When she felt the tire hit the curb she smiled brightly and turned to Henry, “All done.” The proud expression on her face was so captivating that despite holding himself back he couldn’t prevent himself from mirroring her proud expression with a genuine smile, “You did well today, Y/N. Maybe next time you’ll be the one bringing your dad to work.”

August kept his fingers crossed that his jab would provide him with more information about it; and she partially did, “Not anytime soon though; he’s not due back for at least two weeks.” Despite being disappointed at the vague information he managed not to physically display it as he nodded, “Oh that’s too bad then,” He faked sympathy and unbuckled his seatbelt as she did the same, “Same time tomorrow for our lesson okay?”

Nodding her head up and down, she grabbed her bag from the console and checked the road before exiting. “See you tomorrow, Henry,” She waved as they passed by each other as he walked over to the driver’s side. When their skins brushed, they both could feel a rush of electricity and it made Y/N nervously giggle and skipped away from him without even looking back at him due to how embarrassed she was.

Whereas on the other hand August was confused; he never met someone who made him feel this way. The way she was looking or smiling at him had him weak in the knees; which was something he never experienced before. As she was swiftly entering her home, the Hammer found himself watching her as she did so; just need to make sure she gets home safely, he convinced himself. Though the rational part of himself argued back idiot, she’s already on her porch! What possible harm can come to her?

Once she got inside he finally got in the car and fished out his phone from the glove compartment to connect it to the radio and call Sloane as he began driving to his temporary apartment. After a few rings she picked up, “Walker? How was the first day?”

“Not too bad. Got some minimal information about Roberts,” He could hear faint footsteps on Sloane’s end of the call and inferred she had just gotten back from a meeting. “What have you found out then?”

“Apparently he’s out of town,” His boss’ disappointment with the information was heard through her long sigh, “Any idea when will he return? And to where he is?” He shook his head as he spoke, “Y/N said at least two weeks before he comes back from work out of town.”

“Well that can’t be good,” No shit, August wanted to add but kept silent. “Is there any way you can remain in contact with Y/N even after your week of driving lessons are done?” Glaring at his phone the agent voiced his disbelief at what he was hearing, “Why should I pursue this lead? Can’t there be any other way to get to Roberts? What about his associates?”

Sloane let out an irritated sigh — one she rarely had to let out when she was talking to her best agent because he usually got the job done — before explaining, “His associates change; they come and go. We never really found a certain person or persons he works with. Y/N is the only constant person in his life and so if anything really she’s our only hope of bringing him in.” The silence from August’s end indicated that she got through his head.

“Now, is there any way you can remain in contact with Y/N even after your week of driving lessons?” He was now parked in the car park of his temporary base and he thought for a few seconds on how to answer her question. Call it impulsivity or whatever, but before he could even clearly think things through he found himself suggesting, “Perhaps I can ask her out on a date?”

In the years they’ve worked together, Sloane was always impressed and surprised with how August managed to accomplish each mission he assigned her successfully. But this one in particular, he surprised her with his suggestion; heck even August himself couldn’t believe the words that just left his mouth. “I just think that’s the cleanest way to play this one out,” He tried to defend his suggestion, “What other reason would a driving instructor have to remain in contact with their student right?”

The Hammer was cursing himself out with how feeble his justification was; Sloane on the other hand did find herself agreeing with him, “Do what you must.”

The rest of the week went by quickly and Y/N found herself looking forward to every driving lesson she had with her gorgeous instructor. And now that it was the last hour of the last day of their driving lessons, she couldn’t help but wish she got more time to spend with him. In the back of her mind she thought about failing the test in hopes that he’d help her out again. But then it would backfire quick if they sent a different instructor instead.

“Parallel park one last time with that Dodge over there,” His instructions brought her back from the plan she was hatching and going through. As she was executing his instructions, she failed to notice how instead of looking at what she was doing, Henry was observing every facial expression she was completing the task at hand. “There! How was that?” Her eyes staring back at him snapped him out of his entranced stare as he blinked a few times, “Oh well,” He opened the car door to check if the tires hit the curb and how far they were from the curb, “Good job, as usual. Though be careful when you turn the wheel to the right.”

She nodded slowly as she repeated his comment, “How do you feel about your exam tomorrow?” At the mention of her dreaded test she groaned a bit and he chuckled softly — he never saw her this stressed about the test in their previous lessons, so seeing her react this way was somewhat amusing to him. She looked at him with her lips slightly pouting and the skin in her forehead all wrinkled up, “I’m nervous about it; but at the same time I feel like I can do it?”

Henry’s left hand settled itself on her forearm as he affectionately rubbed her, as if he were trying to rid her of the stress and anxieties, “You’re gonna do great, love. Just calm yourself down before taking the test and don’t be afraid to talk to yourself as you drive if it helps you focus.” Y/N’s heartbeat sped up with how gentle he was; over the course of their lessons he came across as stern and rigid but this side of him was something she could get used to.

“How ‘bout you drive back home now, yeah?” She nodded and did so without trouble. August remembered how her father was gone and wondered who’d bring her to the test, “By the way, since you mentioned you dad was out of town, who’ll go with you then?”

Timidly smiling to herself she admitted, “I’ve asked some of my friends, but they all said how they had their own plans. I was gonna ask some of my coworkers and see how that goes.” Clicking his tongue with how unprepared she was, his mouth spit out, “Well how about I go with you then?” Before his brain could even analyze if that was the right thing to say.

Seeing as Y/N was driving she could only briefly glance at him, “You want to take me to the test?” August now backed himself against a wall and couldn’t find a way out, to hell with it, he thought to himself. “Way better than you driving illegally is it not?”

“That is true,” Y/N acknowledged, “But do you do that for all of your students?” Henry let out a laugh and her heart fluttered with how deep it was before he remarked, “Not for everyone, sweetheart, I’ll tell you that.” Feeling cocky with that she mused, “Then I must be special then?”

If you only knew, love, August thought to himself; while Y/N was scolding at herself for possibly flirting with her driving instructor. But technically he wouldn’t be on the day of her exam because their lessons ended, right? “Wanna know how special you really are?” He leaned his elbow on the console, bringing himself closer to her and he sensed how she held her breath as her body stiffened. Shaking her head was the only response she could offer as she was now focusing on parking the car in front of her house.

After coming to a halt she turned over to him and looked at him with curious eyes; Henry then took it as his cue to speak, “You’re so special that should you pass your exam tomorrow, I want to take you out on a date.” Her eyes widened comically that August thought she was an inspiration for a cartoon character. And the agent wasn’t sure if what he was saying was spoken out of desperation for the mission to succeed or because he had taken interest in her.

It had taken her a few seconds before replying and the agent was surprised when she said, “Are you shitting me or is this actually real?” He rid the smirk he had on his face and replaced it with a serious expression, “This is real, sweetheart. Do you think I go around and grace my students with nicknames?” He took her avoiding eyes as a no and his hand grabbed her chin to get her to face him directly, “So do we have a deal, sweetheart? I take you out right after your test for a date, if you pass?”

August held his breath as she unhooked his hand from her chin and leaned over him, planting a kiss on his cheek. His blue eyes were now wide as she had a toothy grin once she pulled away and with a smirk of her own said, “We have a deal, Henry.”

August found himself tapping his leg as he stared at the wall clock, hoping that his domineering stare would make time go faster. Thirty minutes had passed since Y/N started her driving exam and the agent found himself reevaluating in the meantime. Was asking her out on a date the only way to get close to Roberts?

Of course it was, he thought, She said her father will return in two weeks. You’d only have to go out with her once a week and somehow bring him into their conversation and hopefully milk out more intel about him.

Seeing a man dressed in a flannel-patterned polo reeled him back into the present; trailing behind the man was Y/N who had a blank expression on her face. Furrowing his eyebrows he mouthed, “What happened?” Anxiety coursed through his body but it quickly left his body as she winked at him and turned to follow the man. “Do you want to retain your picture from your permit or want to take another one?” He overheard the man ask Y/N, prompting August to relax and smile as he connected the dots — she passed her exam!

But as he was mentally celebrating her success he found himself thinking about how he now had to take her out on the date he promised. It’s just for work, he deliberated, only going out with her to know more about her father. Nothing more, nothing less. However there was this thought nagging him on the back of his head that it wasn’t just for that reason he was taking her out.

Henry groaned as her lips sucked on the sweet spot on his neck as her nails were planted on his shoulders. His large hands alternated between squeezing and rubbing her ass as she grinded herself on his lap.

They found themselves in this situation after Y/N giddily squealed at August how she passed; the agent kissed her forehead as he told her how proud he was of her. As they went to their date he let her drive and as he settled on the passenger seat, his hand rested on her thigh, testing the waters to see if she was comfortable with it — and by the way her thighs pressed against each other, caging in his hand between them, he got the message that she welcomed it happily.

Even throughout the dinner, they both couldn’t get enough of each other. The skin of their arms remained so close to each other that it was as if they were glued to each other. Y/N was beginning to think that the only reason Henry ordered pasta was so he could eat with a single hand so his opposite hand can rest on her thigh. But she wasn’t complaining as she rested her thigh above his.

As they drove back to her place one thing led to another and it ended with Y/N climbing over the console and situating herself on Henry’s lap as their mouths captured each other’s. Y/N unbuttoned his shirt as her lips littered his chest with kisses, she’d linger sometimes in a certain spot long enough to leave marks.

Rolling her hips in his lap, she felt his hard on pressing against her clothed crotch and moaned against his skin. When her dainty fingers were done unclasping the buttons that confined his toned and broad upper body, her hand travelled lower to palm his bulge and before she could open the zipper Henry caught her roaming hand with his, “I think doing this in your house is far better than some cramped up vehicle; don’t you think?”

A blissed out nod was all the response Y/N could give; with that affirmation August opened the door and carried the girl out and shut the car door with his foot. With her legs wrapped around his waist, she planted kisses all over her instructor’s face. She whined as she was put down but understood that it was her cue to unlock the door; though the man behind her was not making the task easy as he was nipping at the skin of her neck and his hands were rubbing her arms.

“Fucking finally,” August rasped out as Y/N managed to unlock the front door and they both hastily entered and the agent shut and locked the door behin him; he spun her to face him so he could rip off her shirt and he smirked as the girl whimpered, clearly turned on with what he did. “Such a naughty girl you are, aren’t you? Going out without even covering these nice tits.” Wrapping his mouth around a breast, she ran her fingers through his hair to encourage him with what he was doing. Without detaching his mouth from her tit and instead switching between the two, he took the initiative to lead them into her couch.

Pushing her to lie on her back, August rid himself of his clothes; he was moving too quickly that Y/N didn’t have the time to take a good look at his chiseled body. Hovering above her, he smirked at her once he noticed her thighs were clenching, “You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you?”

Pathetically nodding she grabbed at his shoulders, “Please touch me, Henry.” Snarking at her he tore her leggings and her panties had the same fate. Now that she was just as exposed as he was, August leaned down to lick downwards from her clit and to her pussy. “You taste heavenly, love.” He lapped at her more, needing to quench his thirst for her and curiosity of what she would taste like. “As much as I adore your taste I’m afraid this will have to wait,” Pushing away her legs that wrapped around his neck, he kissed his way up until he was face to face with her.

“Why not?” She whined as she clawed at his back, moaning as she felt the plain of his back muscles. He distracted her by kissing her deeply as his hand stroked his cock a few times before sliding it in her in one stroke. “That’s why,” He huskily answered against her lips; he moved so his knees touched her thighs, allowing him to rut into her properly.

August removed his lips from hers as he instead planted kisses on her neck as his hands toyed with her nipples and breasts; Y/N, on the other hand, was whining about how good he felt. The skin at the back of her thighs was rippling as he thrusted himself in and out of her rapidly and harshly; the top of his thighs hitting against the back of hers, “You feel so good, Henry. So thick and hard inside me.” The man smirked at her wails, loving how wrecked she sounded — in the back of his nasty brain he noted that this was his favorite version of her.

Her hands held onto his biceps, nails leaving harsh marks on his pale and sweaty skin; it turned August even more how her delicate hands couldn’t even wrap half the size of his arm. Her velvet and silk-like walls were squeezing into his cock so tight that it was triggering his orgasm already — the agent would usually last longer, but given how turned on he was coupled with the fact the past week edged him, he was already close to unloading his bottled up frustrations.

“You already got me almost cumming,” He hoarsely whispered in her ear, feeling her wrap her legs around him to pull her closer against him. That didn’t stop him from slamming into her pussy to the point his trimmed pubic hair rubbed against her clit, adding more friction and pleasure for the both of them. “Seems like you are too, love,” Both her nipples were then squeezed to tease her even more and August was just even more amused with how responsive her precious body was underneath him.

“Please Henry, make me cum. I wanna feel your cum all over me too,” She managed to gasp out in between breaths; the man above her growled when he heard how good she sounded as she begged and had no choice but to comply. He leaned down to suckle on her nipple as the other breast was being toyed by his hand. Her clit too received attention as it was being rubbed and pinched with his other hand. As his hips slammed against her thighs harshly and his cock railed her in swift and sharp thrusts, Y/N could only moan and roll her eyes at the simulations she was receiving.

The only warning she could provide him of her impending orgasm was her patting against his biceps as her walls unexpectedly clung to his dick tighter than ever and came around him. August didn’t relent and continued his animalistic pace, milking her orgasm and removing his mouth from her tit to stare at her blissed out and drowsy state provoked his orgasm as well.

“Fucking hell, love,” He groaned out as he slid in all the way inside her and didn’t thrust furthermore as he spilled his load inside her. With their foreheads touching against each other, they breathed against each other to calm themselves down. Y/N’s hands removed themselves from Henry’s biceps; instead she was now stroking his back, as if coaxing the large man above her to calm down. While August rested his hands on her sides, as if memorizing every inch of her skin.

Y/N squealed as she was being lifted up and carried into her bedroom. Contrary to how she was laid down on the couch roughly, her former driving instructor laid her down gently. Kissing her forehead he went to her ensuite bathroom and returned with a towel. Y/N looked at him with loving eyes as he wiped off their combined juices that spilled out of her delicious cunt. Throwing the towel on her hamper, he then laid beside her and August chuckled lightly with how quick the girl was to latch herself onto him for a cuddle — and he did open his arms to welcome her and wrapped them around her smaller figure.

“I hope you don’t do this with all your students?” Her comment had him humorously rolling his eyes and Y/N giggled at his antics. “No, I don’t, love. I promise,” He even held his pinky up for a pinky promise and she was more than eager to latch her pinky with his; bringing their tangled pinkies to his mouth, Henry placed a gentle kiss on them before untangling them so they could hold hands instead. “Well I guess I’m really special?”

Nodding, he lowered his head down a bit so he could kiss her deeply and passionately. Breaking their kiss August replied, “So special that I want to take you out again next week,” Without even disconnecting their lips.

Y/N sleepily mumbled, “I’d like that a lot, Henry.” Her eyes were starting to feel heavy and August kissed her forehead again, “Sleep, love. I’ll be here in the morning.” She nodded against him and did so. For the next few minutes, the CIA agent reflected his actions and decisions. He told Sloane that he’d ask Y/N out on a date only to remain in contact with her. That was it — a date.

But how the hell did he end up enjoying the date — let alone her company and herself — and then taking her to bed? This was a mess. He shouldn’t have slept with her for it would just complicate things. When August saw how she was steadily breathing, he moved out of the bed and rested her head on a pillow. He went out to her living room to look for his pants that he earlier discarded; grabbing for his phone he sent out a text to Sloane :

Secured a meetup with Y/N next week. Will try to fish out more information about Roberts.

He turned off his phone and put it back in his pocket. As he was staring at his scattered clothes, he was debating whether he should stay the night with Y/N or just leave right now. Even though he knew which option seemed like the most logical, he surprised himself. He went back to bed and cuddled Y/N close as he too began to drift off to dormancy — he stayed.

#quietmyfearswith #My writing #august walker x reader #august walker x fem!reader #august walker imagine #august walker fanfic #august walker fic #august walker smut #august walker fluff #august walker angst #august walker x reader fluff #august walker x reader smut #august walker x reader angst #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader

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kar-krashew · 3 years

Text

@arsenic-creator THIS IS THE CHEESIEST THING I'VE EVER WRITTEN BUT HERE'S YOUR CARS AU MALEC FIC.

(Rated T for language).

----

There are a lot of things that Alec misses about life outside this shitty little town, even though he’s only been here for a few days: his family, his friends, his cell phone— he could go on for a while. Hell, he even misses Aldertree’s incessant bragging at this point, which is a little concerning, because the man is a menace and just generally unpleasant to be around. The fact that Alec has not had a very public fistfight with him yet is a goddamn miracle.

But— he’s getting distracted. The point is, there are a lot of things on that list.

So, it’s genuinely impressive when Simon shows up and rambles for long enough that all Alec really misses now is some peace and quiet, because Simon does not know when to shut up, oh my god—

“What happens if you get pulled over on the road and you don’t have your license on you? Do the cops just let you go? I mean, you are a world famous racer, so it would be assumed that you know how to drive, right?” he pesters, “Or do you still get in trouble?”

Alec groans. He’s been dealing with this for the better part of an hour now, and throwing himself into a nearby cactus plant has never seemed more appealing. Simon, ruiner of lives and seemingly oblivious to Alec’s current temperament, barrels on steadily in his rant about cops and racers until they approach the main part of the plaza, where he suddenly pauses and grins.

Dread claws its way up Alec’s shoulders. Simon grinning like that can only bring bad things.

“So,” the kid drawls, “Where are you staying tonight? Anywhere special? In the spare bedroom of a local attorney, by the name of Magnus Bane, perhaps?”

Scratch that: Alec’s going to throw Simon into a nearby cactus plant, and he won’t even feel a little bit guilty. He could make it look like an accident and everything.

“Fuck off, Simon,” he scowls. He tries increasing his pace to ditch the kid, but Simon is nothing if not persistent. “Don’t you have anything else to be doing right now?”

“Nope.” Simon pops the word in his mouth, grin growing even wider. “You like him. Like, like-like him!” he declares, leaning in closer. “If it helps, I think he likes you, too.”

“Are we fifth graders now? Is that what’s happening?” Alec pointedly ignores the blush threatening to take over his face, and glowers down at the brunette. “Besides, he’s just being nice. It doesn’t have to mean something.” He’d meant to sound firm and sure when he said it, but his voice tapers off and gets soft instead, and now Alec is considering committing multiple misdemeanors if it means he’ll get out of this conversation. Simon shoots him a knowing look.

“But you want it to mean something,” he observes. Alec rolls his eyes, not bothering to grace the statement with a response. Simon takes it as an open invitation to start singing a very loud and terrible rendition of a song about Alec and Magnus sitting in a tree, and it’s enough for Alec to give in and violently shove the other.

Unfortunately, Simon does not hit any of the cacti nearby.

God, Alec hates this town.

---

The thing about Magnus Bane is that, well—

The man is fucking beautiful. Like, holy-shit-Alec-can't-breathe-around-him beautiful, with golden skin and kohl-lined eyes and dark hair and a jawline that Alec would love to get up close and personal with.

The first time they’d met, Alec made a complete ass out of himself by stumbling all over his words in court and then had gotten himself stuck doing community service, largely because of Magnus, for the god-forsaken town he’d managed to land himself in.

(Look, it’s not his fault that he somehow managed to destroy the town’s main road after veering wildly off course and out of control on his way to Brooklyn, okay? These things happen.)

It had kind of been all downhill from there.

But now, somehow, he’s lying in Magnus’s spare bedroom and watching the sunlight as it touches everything in the room with its golden glow, illuminating the walls, the potted plants, the shelves, the man leaning against the doorway—

“Holy shit!”

Alec scrambles to sit up in bed, frantically pulling up the sheets to his bare chest, as Magnus laughs. “Magnus!” Alec squeaks. “I, um, what’re you doing here?”

Magnus grins, rounding the corner of the bed to place a tray in front of Alec. “I thought I’d bring you breakfast,” he says, “before I asked you if you wanted to go for a drive.”

Alec frowns. “A drive?”

“A drive,” Magnus repeats, shrugging a shoulder. “I wanted to show you something, and took the liberty of filling your car up with gas again.”

“Wha— Why? You don’t think I’ll try leaving town again?” The only reason Alec hadn’t been able to leave when he first tried had been the lack of fuel in his tank, so he’s genuinely confused as to why Magnus decided to change that.

“I don’t know, will you?” the other asks. He tilts his head, looking gentle and blurred in his robe and smiling softly, something warm cradled in his eyes, and Alec knows with sudden certainty that he won’t. He might’ve said yes a few days ago, but now?

“No,” he replies. “I won’t.”

“That’s that, then,” Magnus beams, and Alec can’t help beaming back a little stupidly. “I trust you. Now, finish up, Alexander. We’ve got daylight to catch.”

---

“Where do you want me to go?”

They’re both sitting in Alec’s car, windows rolled down, on an old road leading away from the interstate. It’s beautiful out here— green trees circling a little lake tucked in between the rocks and dirt— but Alec has a feeling it’s not what Magnus wanted to show him.

“Just follow the path,” Magnus instructs, unbuckling his seatbelt. He turns to Alec and winks, before hoisting himself so that he’s sitting halfway out of the window, laughing at Alec’s surprised yelp and swerve of the car. “Careful there, hotshot!” he giggles, then leans further out like he’s got a fucking death wish, closing his eyes against the wind.

“Are you insane?” Alec yells out, and Magnus laughs harder.

“All the best people are, darling!” he responds. “I’ll be just peachy. Just keep going, we’re about to get to my favorite part!”

Alec’s about to yell out again, probably something like you have a favorite part of almost dying? or I think I’m halfway in love with you as they pass through a rocky tunnel, but before he can say either, his breath catches at the sight in front of him.

A huge, sparkling waterfall cascades down from the mountains, overlooking the rocky canyon and trees below it, framing the bridge that hangs in between. It almost doesn’t look real, more like something out of a corny road trip movie or a documentary, and Alec slows down as they approach it, taking it in. Magnus grins as they pass by, leaning out to catch errant drops of water on his fingertips, and God, it’s such a cliché and cheesy thing to do, and Alec wants to kiss him straight on his stupid mouth.

“I bet you don’t see that out in the city,” Magnus says smugly, tucking himself back into the car. He glances back at Alec with a smirk on his lips, running a hand through his wind-mussed hair. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

“Yeah,” Alec breathes, staring at Magnus’s flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “It really is.”

(Fuck, now he’s the one being cliché. Izzy’s going to find out about this somehow and laugh at him forever.)

“Right.” Magnus clears his throat, looking away, jarring Alec back to reality. “We’re almost there, just pull up at the sign there,” he continues, pointing to a clearing ahead.

Alec coughs, nodding. “Right. Yes. The sign.”

The sign in question is a small landmark that points to a dilapidated, out-of-place building hidden between the rock of the mountain. “The Hotel Dumont,” the front reads, paint chipped away at the edges of the letters. The building looks Victorian in design, with intricate arches decorating the front, though many of them are cracked and gray now, and there’s a large open courtyard area in the front that appears abandoned now. It must’ve been beautiful, once. Now, it carries only echoes of a world passed.

“What is this place?” Alec asks. Magnus shakes his head and exits the car, then stands and stares at the sign for a while when Alec joins him.

“This used to be their livelihood,” he finally says, “The Hotel Dumont. Raphael used to run it, and everyone else would pitch in. You wouldn’t believe what it looked like earlier: parties in the main hall, music playing in the foyer, people laughing. It kept them going.”

“What happened?”

Magnus smiles wistfully. “A famous racer by the name of Valentine dropped a particularly scathing review of the hotel after Raphael caught him harassing customers and kicked him out. Had enough influence and lawyers to destroy all of this place’s credibility. These days, everyone’s barely getting by. It’s why they took so long to warm up to you; you essentially represent everything that ruined them.”

That’s horrible, Alec wants to say, but instead he looks over at Magnus and notes his glittering makeup and golden rings and silk tunic and blurts out, “Then how did you end up here?” and immediately winces.

It’s a valid question, technically— Magnus obviously wasn’t one of the town’s original residents, if his extravagant nature and the way he discusses the hotel are any indication— but still. Alec could’ve been gentler about it.

“I was an attorney in L.A, actually,” Magnus sighs. “It was good, I suppose, and money was never an issue, but I don’t think I was happy.” He shuffles closer to Alec as they idle in front of the building, brushing their shoulders together. “Got myself horribly drunk one night and made a whole plan to run away and leave the city behind. I woke up the next day, saw the plans, decided I might as well, and just started driving until my car finally broke down here.”

They’re silent for a moment, and Alec reaches out to touch his fingertips to Magnus’s comfortingly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I can’t imagine what that must’ve felt like.”

Magnus turns to face him completely then, looking up at him knowingly. “Can’t you?” he asks. He takes Alec’s palms in his own and holds their hands between them. “Are you happy out there, Alexander?”

Alec blinks, startled. “Of course I am,” he protests automatically, because why wouldn’t he be? He’s rich, he’s famous, he’s doing what he loves; it’s all perfect. And yet—

He thinks about the constant pressure from his family and fans to be perfect and flashy and smiling all the time. He thinks back to his mother’s desperate attempts to hide his sexuality from the media, setting him up for meeting after meeting with beautiful women. He thinks about the façade he’s made for himself against the person he is right now, standing here with Magnus, and realizes that they’ve never been the same.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits. “I— I’m not sure.”

Magnus hums. He looks back at the hotel, Alec’s hands still clutched in his own. “You don’t have to leave, you know. You could stay here,” he says.

Alec surveys the landscape, then the man in front of him. “Yeah,” he agrees, “I think I could.”

---

He never gets to find out, because the next day it all goes to hell: Maryse Lightwood descends on the town, armed with a fleet of reporters and a truck waiting to take Alec away.

“We’re going now, Alec,” she demands. “Say goodbye to your ‘friends’ if you need to, and then we’re leaving.” She glances warily over at Magnus, who’s holding Alec’s hand, and frowns before she turns on her heel and walks away.

“So,” Magnus says flatly, “It appears you’re finally getting to that race.”

Alec wants to scream. He hates this, hates that this is how it’s going to end, before it’s even truly begun. If he just had more time—

“Magnus, I wanted to—” he starts, “I wish we—” He exhales, running a hand through his hair exasperatedly, and Magnus smiles.

“It’s alright, Alexander. Just stay in touch, okay?” He pats Alec’s shoulder. “Go on, darling. I don’t think your mother would appreciate me keeping you any longer than I already have.”

Alec hesitates a moment more, wanting to do something, anything, to make this different, but then he swallows and steps away.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll, I’ll call you.”

(It won’t change anything: his life will be exactly the same as it was before. Just one phone call added onto the routine. They both know this is goodbye to whatever they could be.)

Still, Magnus squeezes his fingers and keeps smiling. “I’ll be waiting, Alexander,” he says.

“Sure,” Alec replies uselessly.

So he’s here now, weeks later, sitting on the stands and supposedly getting ready for a race that he doesn’t have heart in anymore.

Honestly, fuck this race. They all go the same way: he’ll race, he’ll win or lose, he’ll pose with some model for a newspaper, and that’ll be it. It used to be enough for him, once.

“Alec?” a voice interrupts, “You okay?”

It’s Izzy, crackling through the comms piece in his ear. Alec clears his throat. “Yeah,” he replies, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as brittle over the mic as it feels, “I’m fine.”

He’ll swallow his emotions and make it enough, again.

“Alright,” Izzy concedes, but she sounds disbelieving, “If you say so. It’s almost time, you might want to head to the car soon, okay?”

Alec hums in the affirmative, heading down to the track, paparazzi trying their best to bombard him. He takes a deep breath, avoiding the cameras, and opens the driver's side door of the car.

He’ll call Magnus after this. It’ll be enough.

Alec ducks under the roof of the vehicle. “Hey, Izzy?” he calls, seating himself behind the wheel. “If I win, remind me to call Magnus, okay?”

“I’m afraid that would be a little redundant, darling,” a new voice replies, and Alec’s heart skips a beat. “Given that you’ll be talking to me already.”

Magnus.

“Magnus?” Alec fucking leaps out of his car, searching frantically around the pit for the man in his ear. A warm laugh floods the comms, and Alec feverishly pushes past cameramen and well-meaning assistants (who are trying to remind him that he really should be in his car right now) in his desperation, only to turn around and:

It’s him. It’s really him, smiling warmly at Alec with his gorgeous brown eyes, wearing black eyeliner to match the Lightwood tracksuit he’s wearing, and Alec missed him so much, oh god, he’s really here—

“Magnus,” he breathes, then he’s throwing his helmet down and closing the distance between them and pulling at Magnus’s lapels, up, up, up, and straight to his own mouth.

He’s kissing him.

Magnus is gripping onto his face too tightly and Alec is clacking their teeth together too harshly, but it’s Magnus, and it’s perfect, and Alec is kissing him, and he could lose every race from this moment on and still feel like he’s on top of the world if it means he’ll get to have this.

“You came,” he whispers when they finally pull apart. Magnus cups his face, stealing another kiss, before he responds.

“Of course I did. Honestly, I’m offended you didn’t ask for me to show up here, yourself,” he teases, and Alec grins bashfully.

“I didn’t think you’d want to,” he replies. Magnus rolls his eyes before pressing their foreheads together.

“Well, darling, we better change that soon, hm?” He twirls his fingers at the nape of Alec’s neck, and time feels like it's perfect and frozen forever in this moment, until Magnus clears his throat.

“I hate to interrupt this, Alexander, but there’s a race and a very excited group of reporters waiting for you, and you should probably get back to both. Unless, of course, you’re not planning to participate?”

Alec snorts and pulls away, loosening his grip around Magnus’s waist. “I plan on participating, Magnus,” he says. “I have a very special someone I’d like to dedicate the trophy to, if they’re open to the idea.”

Magnus grins. “Mmm, you’d have to win, first, wouldn’t you?” he winks, and Alec smirks back.

“For you?” he replies. “I’d do nothing less.”

Alec knows that he’s going to have an absolute media shitstorm waiting for him after he ends this race. But, looking back at a beaming Magnus as he picks his helmet up, he thinks it just might be worth it.

God, Alec loves that town. He's not sure why he ever thought otherwise.

#my writing #fic #malec fic #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #cars #this is a fucking cars au #im not even ashamed #simon lewis #Simon is MATER lmao #shadowhunters #life is a highway blares in the background

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