Ticcing Timebomb | Ticci Toby X Reader

Start the Timer

Two Weeks Later

Sleep clung to you like solidifying glue, weighing your body down as you staggered across your bedroom to your closet. While waking up at seven in the morning wouldn't normally create such a strong mixture of drowsiness, "late-night homework" was one of the ingredients this time. Consequently, you had been falling behind on your history chapters and had to stay up and cram. Now your past procrastination lingered to bite you again and again.

You pushed through, dressing into your work clothes, gathering your stuff together, and hopping down the narrow wooden stairs and into the kitchen. Dust sparkled inside rays of light slicing through the space. You circled the center island crowded with textbooks and dishes only to be halted by a chilling cringe. The ball of your foot had splashed into a tiny wet puddle that soaked through your sock before you could jump out. Squishing your hands into tight fists, you gently set your foot down in a new spot and turned to the clock.

I've got like seven minutes till I should go.

Shuffling to the fridge, you pulled out a bright yellow box: the only quick breakfast in the house.

Guess it's toaster waffles this morning.

Your hands had just begun to fumble with the packaging when they suddenly spasmed and you gasped.

Abby! I gotta wake her up! Shoot, shoot, shoot!

The sickly stairs coughed as you stomped up them. You turned left down the hall, but instead of turning left again into your room, you went right. Abby groaned as you called a good morning to her and threw open her turquoise curtains.

"It's too early. Why are you waking me up?" Her groggy little voice whined.

Spinning around and tiptoeing across your little sister's floor housing carefully organized piles of junk, you smiled.

"Nature center today, remember? You get to learn all about snakes!"

Abby's unamused emerald eyes peeked over the edge of her covers and beamed at you. A mane of bright yellow hair framed her head. She let a moment of silence hang in the air to emphasize her disgust and then rolled on to her tummy, sighing as loudly and aggressively as lawnmower starting.

You patted her back. "Mom's still at Jake's hockey practice and wanted me to wake you up before I leave. She'll be back in time to drive you and your friend Sophie there, but you gotta be ready."

You weren't humored with any type of response this time.

"You want me to make you breakfast? Waffles?"

"Yef pweaf." You thought you could make out a "yes please" through her pillow.

Downstairs, you placed the additional two frozen waffles into the left side of the four-slice toaster, which was noticeably cleaner. The pat-pat of bare feet dragging down the stairs and into the tiled kitchen turned your head. Abby stood beside the island with her eyes half-closed, wearing her oversized "Camp Willow" t-shit and patterned pajama pants. You walked over to the front door and began putting on your shoes.

"You made me walk down here for toaster waffles?"

"Yeah? I told yo-"

"I thought you meant Dad's waffles." She clarified opening the fridge.

"We finished those days ago."

"Wha?! I only had one!"

You tugged your laces tight. "Sorry. Maybe we can try making them later."