#AND THAT'S THE FIRST CHAPTER WOOOO

[jaegerisim]

Screaming And Crying (and kissing in the rain).

*enters your dashboard visibly disheveled* heeeeyyyy y'all, it's me ya girl w a new AU!!! haha dw all of my fics will be finished, um, eventually. Someday.... Anyways this is for my moodboard that got waaaayy too much attention than anticipated. Enjoy! 💕🌈

TW: smoking

Tagging the lovelies interested: @foodiewithdahoodie @mikeslawyer @will--byers @aidyaiden @big-sad-for-byler @booksandpaperss @over-rated-cheese @embarrassing-nerd @maru-chu @callmetheidiot @moviebyers @chic-ultimate @conanssummerchild @rotessaboggs @willthecleric @sageyshideaway @melaniesmpo if anyone wants to be tagged too just tell me in the comments!

Link to AO3

One of these days Will was going to fire his manager. The manager in question being his beloved stepsister, El Hopper.

"So I'm supposed to believe you forgot Mike fucking Wheeler is gonna play my love interest? You just conveniently forgot, right? Fucking great!" Will paced his living room back and forth. He was on the verge of hysteria. It didn't help his mood that Dan, his boyfriend, had cheated on him. That fucking asshole.

"Just calm down, Will. I know you and Mike have a complicated history between the two but you need to do this" reasoned El, calmly sipping from her mug of coffee.

"Do what? A gay rom-com with Mike Wheeler playing my boyfriend? How is that gonna help? How is that gonna change the fact that him and I detest each other. How?" demanded Will, throwing himself on top of his couch, like the dramatic person he is.

"Oh, the tragedy! You and Mike have to make-out! Oh, the horrors!" interrupted Max Mayfield, Will's best friend, eating a baguette.

Will plucked the baguette from her hand and took a bite from it.

"Oh, shut up. Besides I doubt you guys want to see Lucas anymore than I want to see Mike!" snapped Will, knowing he'd hit a sore subject for both girls.

Max pressed her lips in a fine line. "Lucas will probably ignore me, which is what you should do with Mike! Ignore his antiques and live your life."

"Besides why do I need to do this?" spoke Will while chewing.

"Ew, gross. Swallow before talking, for fucks sake!" Max gagged.

"Will, I need you to get this through your thick skull, m'kay? You are an actor, right? Well your job is acting then. Not living off the press and media like a leech." scolded El, and she did have a point. Will had been living off the press for the last 2 years with romantic scandals and modelling jobs.

"Fine, I'll do it. Whatever. I don't care, but if this movie flops it's your fault!" Will wags his finger between Max and El, for emphasis.

"If you'd even bothered to read the script you would know this movie isn't going to flop." The red haired huffed

"I don't need to read to know it's gonna flop 'cause Mike and I are gonna play boyfriends and we are rivals! He is my nemesis, even! I can't stand his smug, freckled face!" Will let out a frustrated groan. "I need a smoke. Max, you coming?"

Max gave El a small kiss on the lips and followed Will to the garden.

"How can I play Mike's boyfriend without gagging. We have 0 chemistry! Who the fuck casted this shit?" said Will lighting his cigarette and passing the lighter over to Max

"First of all, the casting was done by Robin Buckley and the director is Murray Batman, so you keep your mouth shut." snapped Max, she was Mr. Bauman's greatest admirer. "Second of all, you guys used to have loads of chemistry. Remember when the 6 of us used to interviews together?"

Will turned over to look at Max, whose eyes glinted with nostalgia in the moonlight.

He took a long drag and exhaled slowly, Max mimicked him.

"That was when we were 15, Max. Nine fucking years ago. We haven't talked since then. How are we supposed to show chemistry? Anyways, it's not like I have much of a choice, do I?" Will sighed, softly. He remembered his teenage years with Mike. The both of them were wild and free. Not worrying about scandals and reputations.

"Do you want to be my friend?"

"Yes."

"Nope." she answered.

"Ok. Well, I'm guessing the both of you are characters too, right?"

Will threw his cigarette on the floor and stepped on it. The red-haired woman did the same.

"Yeah, El plays your childhood best friend and I play the antagonist. I'm Mike's stepsister and in love with you." Max rolled her eyes.

"Ew."

"I know, thankfully you only kiss Mike. Lucas plays your coworker and El's love interest. Dustin is your kind neighbour who happens to be Mike's best friend." explained Max, entering their house.

"These are gonna some complicated years of filming, it better be worth it" Will thought.

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ I Dreamt of You All Summer Long - [Part 4]

♥ prev | ao3 | masterlist

♥ pairing: charles leclerc x max vertstappen

♥ inspired by the folklore love triangle

♥ 402 words (excluding lyrics)

♥ a/n: yayyy the folklore series is done <3 shout-out to my best friend for beta reading this part/chapter for me love you mwah mwah (none of the pictures are mine)

Charles has been in the Netherlands for a few days now, wondering if Max even wanted to see him. He knew the answer to that but couldn’t admit it to himself. He scrunched his nose, scrolling through some pictures Max posted over the weekend.

He sighed, too hurt and guilty to continue. Charles snatched his keys from his hotel room table and decided to take a walk to clear his mind. He walked for miles with his headphones, when his eyes met Max’s apartment complex. The realization that he reflexively took himself there sunk in painfully. His breath hitched at the sight, dozens of memories flooding his mind.

Betty, one time I was riding on my skateboard when I passed your house, it’s like I couldn’t breathe

Charles dreamed about what would happen when he saw Max again, the good and the bad. He races home and quickly stashed a a few objects in his car. Charles wanted to make it up to him properly.

Once he got to the apartment he took a breath and knocked on Max’s door. No one answered. He waited a few minutes before trying again but got the same response. 

“Okay I expected that,” he mumbled, pacing back in forth in the hallway. His eyes darted towards his pocket as his phone dinged with a notification. It was a picture of Max at a party. It destroyed Charles knowing he finally got the courage to say something when Max wasn’t even home.

He inspected the photo a little closer and noticed a small blurry detail. It was Lando’s house.

if I showed up to your party, would you have me? would you want me? would you tell me to go fuck myself? Or lead me to the garden?

Charles 

would it be fucking crazy if I showed up to Lando’s party unannounced to find max?

Arthur 

I think you already know the answer to that

Charles 

I think you already know I’m gonna do it anyway 🤷‍♂️

Arthur 

why even ask then

Charles quickly turned off his phone, body full of adrenaline. He tried talking himself out of this a few times in the car but ultimately failed. He ran up to Lando’s door, ringing the bell with shaky hands. He almost dropped the items he was carrying.

Betty I’m here on your doorstep and I planed it out for months now but it’s finally sinking in 

Lando opened the door with a smile that dropped the second he saw Charles. 

“What do you want?” 

“Can I talk to max… please?” 

Lando sighed and walked back into his living room.

Max walked up to the door hesitantly and crossed his arms. Charles held up the cream colored cardigan and a small tub of vanilla ice cream, Max’s favorite.

I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired, and you’d be standing in my front porch light

“I miss you,” Charles whispered.

[tsuki-xoxo]

REBIRTH CHAPTER TONIGHT!!

yall I’m alive omfg! July beat my fucking ass but enjoy the upcoming 10k+ word chapter tonight 😈😈

[chaos-era]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Nexomon: Extinction (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Protagonist/Deena Characters: Protagonist (Nexomon), Deena | Nara (Nexomon) Series: Part 1 of Second Chances Summary:

It's been almost ten years since the defeat of Omnicron, and Tyrants rage across the continent. The newly established Tamer's Guild was struggling to keep up with the seemingly random attacks, with many of the battles being left to Nexolord Selena and Guildmaster Deena due to their skills. While already an exhausting and seemingly never-ending task, more problems arise with Deena as she grows weaker and weaker by the day.

Selena and Deena seek answers behind Deena's degrading health and the origins of the sudden uptick of the Tyrant attacks - only to learn that the answer is far scarier than either could imagine.

[everymeloneveryday]

chapter 150 page 11

[kiwiikato]

mommy’s here // ken sato x reader

Chapter Eight

note! thank u for everyone's patience! i'm sorry for the late update and rushed chapter but i hope this makes up for the wait! u all are so silly and i've been enjoying all your comments <3 thank u so much for the love and support!

masterlist

kenji stood on the base plate, calling for the baby kaiju's attention as she chirped. you stood near by him with mina hovering beside you as well. the atmosphere of the warmly colored park held a sweetness to the air.

"okay, just like this." he fixed his stance by separating his legs shoulder length. lifting the wooden bat in his hands, he showed a slow back and forth swinging motion. the baby kaiju chirped more as she raised the cute, but comedically, giant blue bat.

you didn't know where ken pulled it out from but it sure was handy to have it stored. pulling yourself out of your thoughts you focused on the both of them. "elbows up." they both raised their elbows up.

the baby kaiju was absolutely adorable to look at, her arms a perfect chunkiness, making her look rounder as she help the bat upright. kenji put his bat down, making a sound of contempt at her.

"uhuh, get ready." he waved the baseball that he now had, showing it to her. "okay, here it comes." kenji crouched down slightly, with a swift but soft motion, he threw the ball from below, heading towards the baby kaiju.

the ball hit her face, making her let out a cry from the impact as her face jolted. her once happy expression turned sad as she looked at kenji and you in pain. her fins that laid on the side of her head, frilled down in sadness, as tears welled in her eyes.

giant droplets poured out from her as kenji and you looked at each other in worry. "no no no no it's okay." the both of you ran up to her, trying to sooth her tears. she began to cry out, slightly jumping back and forth on her feet.

"oh baby, come here." you said as you reached out to her. she looked down at you, slowly leaning her head to you. you grabbed her forehead, pulling her to you as you placed a small kiss on the spot she got hit on. "see, all better!" you said smiling, making her feel better at the comfort.

you stepped back as her tears dried up, letting ken step up to her next. she looked at ken as she sniffled. he gave her a small smile. "hey, it's okay, it's okay. it happens sometimes, you just got to work at it." his voice was gentle with care, trying to keep her calm and happy.

ken took some steps back to the base he was at originally, now that she seemed calmer. "now get ready, keep your eyes on the ball." he raised a peace sign to his eyes, moving it back and forth between his eyes and the ball. you stared at him as he gently talked towards the baby. he held a soft but handsome smile on his face. you never really took notice of his features.

his eyes were sharp, but full of warmth. his nose was perfect in its own way, it was hooked nose, the arch of it reminded you a greek god in a sense. there was a small black piercings on his ears as well. it almost felt like you were staring at him for the first time all over again.

a blush rose to your face as you continued watching them. "ichi, ni, san, ball!" he yelled out as he threw the ball. it happened so quickly as you watched the baby have her bat smack against the ball, sending it flying across the sky. "woooo! yes! whoo!!" kenji yelled out in joy as he jumped. you and mina shouted out in joy as mina span around cutely with her little robot arms out.

kenji ran up to the baby kaiju, grabbing her loving by here hands. "come on girl, we gotta run the bases!" it was clear as day of his excitement. baseball was his passion, it was his sanctuary. and for the baby he's raising under his care, enjoy the one things he grew up living, it made him feel joy.

he pulled her gently, as she began to follow him. he let go of her, waving you and mina to join him in running and the baby kaiju ran behind him, copying his trail. you all laughing in joy, a special memory being created.

the baby cooed as kenji jumped back on the base, making a home run, as she stopped and leaped to it. a cloud of dust and dirt came from her feet with the force as you all celebrated.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

after the events of the day in the park, you and kenji sat in the living room as mina took care of the baby kaiju. he told you of his plans to go out in a couple of hours for a scheduled interview with ms. ami wakita. you smiled and told him to not worry as you and mina would take care of the baby in that time.

now you both sat comfortably on the sofa as he played random videos online for the both of you to watch. the your frog plushie from the night before sat on your lap, rubbing its head affectionately.

kenji eyed you from the side of his eye, admiring the way you innocently stared ahead of you. there was a soft smile on your lips, enjoying every second of what life had to bring you. it was almost funny how life had brought the two of you together because of the baby kaiju, and he was grateful.

and so were you. you were grateful to have been able to take care of the baby as you grew closer with kenji. he smiled to himself as he scooted closer to you, your body turned to look at him, to which he gave you a awkward smile. you smiled back, in a way saying he could get closer.

and so he did. he closed the gap that once existed as the two of you watched the tv. it was a comforting feeling, to feel his warmth pressed against you. it wasn't long before kenji reached for the remote, slightly lowering the audio. he turned to you, you copying his actions with curiousity.

"hey, i know i say it a lot but thank you again for all the help with the baby kaiju. the extra help has been so nice to have." his voice was soft, but loud enough for you to hear. you smiled back at him, "of course, she's like family at this point, i honestly enjoy being near the both of you."

kenji looked up happy. he reminded you of a dog wagging its tail, like those 'golden retriever boyfriends' you've heard about online. "yeah me too, i like being with you too." he said smiling wide.

"do you mean the 'both of you'?" you asked, referring to the baby and you. he shook his head. "no no, well yes, but no. i meant you. i've been really enjoying my time with you. it's been really nice to get closer to you throughout the process." his voice was almost hypnotizing, it was undeniably alluring.

"oh well- i've been enjoying getting closer with you as well." you said, slightly caught off guard by his sweet words. kenji turned more towards you, he gently reached for your hands that rested on your lap, pulling them a little more to him. your face turned red at the action, but let him continue.

kenji felt his heart swell seeing you smile softly at him. the two of you have been working together to take care of the baby kaiju, and he couldn't deny the fuzzy feeling he felt everytime he felt when he looked at you.

there was just something so alluring about you that he couldn't deny himself of. the life you both had right now felt domestic, it felt sweet. it was then that he realized that domesticity didn't sound that bad. the idea of sleeping and waking up to you, making food together, watching movies and shows.

even just the idea of cleaning together sounded sweet. he could imagine dancing and singing with you as you both cleaned with music in the background. he knew what he felt. he wasn't oblivious to what he felt, but he didn't know. he didn't know if you felt the same.

he's seen you blush but whose to say it's not a reaction from being nervous instead of being interested. the idea of you maybe feeling the same lingered, holding onto the fact that the two of you have begun to get closer, physically and emotionally.

his eyes moved towards your face, watching as you gently stared towards him. your eyes were full of love and maybe, just maybe, that love was for him and only him. taking a breath, he began to talk. "y/n, i've been enjoying our time together, like a lot. this might sound weird but i have been loving waking up to you and taking care of the baby with you. it's something new for me but i'm happy to be doing this with you all. my point is that i'm happy to have you so close to me and for us to keep getting closer and-"

a soft and gentle hand cupped kenji's cheeks, distracting him from his rambling. his eyes snapped up to yours, nervous of what you would say. "i've loved every moment with you as well, the feeling is reciprocated." you said as your thumb softly caressed his cheek.

that was all the confirmation he needed. the way you stared at him so lovingly as you gently held him, almost like you didn't want to hurt him, brought him over the edge. kenji's arms reached over to you, pulling you closer into an embrace. the distance between you lessened as he stared at your eyes.

you watched as he stared at you, his eyes flickering from yours to your lips. a pale red dusted his cheeks. your eyes trailed to his lips, not going unnoticed by him.

kenji leaned forward, the gap closing as he leaned slightly to your height. the feeling of his lips molding with your own sent you chills as he kissed you with love. you kissed him back, almost urgently as kenji leaned into you, making you fall back into the couch as his body now hovered over you.

one hand near your face help him stay up as his other hand rested at your waist, softy rubbing the skin under your shirt. his fingers were cold, making you shiver into the kiss. kenji was kissing you and you enjoyed it.

your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to deepen the kiss. kenji groaned softly into the kiss as his hands glided up and down at your waist.

you felt his tongue prod at your mouth, making you slightly open your mouth for him. you hummed in delight as he explored your mouth with his own. the kiss felt like it went on for a while till he pulled away, gasping for air.

you stayed laying down, flushed from what had happen as kenji stared at you, who was still under him. it was then that everything that happened set into you. you had just kissed kenji. you didn't know if it was too soon but a part of you was jumping with joy.

kenji smiled at you, leaning down an placing a small peck at your lip, to your nose, to your cheeks, and forehead. he smother your face with kisses and you felt yourself turn gooey.

he pulled away, sitting up as he helped you get up. pulling you into his arms as he rested your back against his chest. his body wrapped around yours as he rested his head onto your shoulder.

"that was nice." he said softly. you knew he meant more with that, it was a sweet feeling that you both unconsciously had growing inside of you both.

he held you close, enjoying the time he had with you before his interview later. "y/n, i like you. it may come off as straightforward but i would really like to get to know you better." he softy spoke, it was different than his usual bold and prideful attitude.

you could tell he was nervous, with the way his body slightly shook from his nerves. you reached for his hand that laid at your side and grabbed it. "i like you too kenji, and i would really like that." kenji hugged you from behind, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

it was quiet for a while till you heard kenji talk. you almost didn’t hear him, thankfully being able to make out what he was saying. and gosh, did his words make you feel like putty in his hands. " we can finally say we're a little family of our own now."

!!!TAGLIST IS WILL CLOSE WHEN I SWITCH OUT PINK TAGS FOR TAGGABLE USERS!! THANK YOU!’

TAGLIST!

@ilovemyhusbandaaravos @miffysoo @ldykir4 @chaoticotaku @channit @shingsoluvely @m00nd0v3 @mixvchelle @ifharbingerbad--whyhot @dreamayy @justanotherkpopstanlol @bat1212 @angelitadiaz @snowbusiness @witcwitchy @mizzowizzo @buggs-1 @mmeerraa @everywonuu @nevermorekisses @f1uveryysblog @t4naiis @stxrrielle @ixqiix @arrozyfrijoles23 @sincerest-one @imsimping4life @sassy-cat-in-town @jack-of-all-trades-696 @flutterfly365 @eternalgoddessofart @hulyenl @leabrainrot @sunmigs @m3q3kic @lynbubble @leviannx @call-me-nyxx @gurofushi @ya-boi-v @im-sidney @haitani-zoe @mtheooo @chreiiii @secretlyapartofthisfandom @greenmanshoe @badbishsblog @reallysparklychaos @deimmortales99 @ashsallyblue2 @matchalatte06 @random-3455 @reivelmin @jennyfernan @solatiiium @liliabrary @maxi-ride @nelain @sleep-7372 @22carolina08

[supernovafics]

•*⁀➷ ❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. ❞✭・

supernovafics!

✭•*⁀➷ a modern fake dating steve harrington series ·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

in which a friendship is surprisingly born in an elevator, and a crush that feels hopeless is developed very soon after that. for what feels like forever, you debate whether or not you should be honest with eddie and see if he maybe feels the same way as you. but, you upsettingly miss your chance to say anything when he gets into a relationship with someone that’s not you. ultimately, you decide to push everything you feel to the side so that you don’t potentially ruin everything between you and him; because at the end of the day, he’s still your best friend. now, two years later, things have changed— there’s a break up, reignited feelings, and pining that feels worse and even more helpless this time around. a blind date leads to you fake dating some guy you barely even know with the hopes of finally getting eddie to see you as more than just a friend. at first, you’re hesitant and you honestly think that steve’s suggestion sounds a little insane. but, then you decide that perhaps it could actually, somehow, maybe work? you and steve haven’t even known each other for a full twenty-four hours before you two are shaking hands and agreeing to fake date for a month, and hoping that you both get what you want out of this abruptly thrown together arrangement.

warnings: modern au, college au, fake dating trope, Big Big slow burn, bestfriend!eddie, slight fuckboy!steve vibes, unrequited feelings, pining, angst, specific warnings will be tagged per chapter

author's note: ah i'm very very excited for this series! i had this idea since like december and have been up and down and back and forth with outlining and writing it for the past few months (its been a bit of a roller coaster to say the least lmao). but here it finally is woooo !! i'm gonna actually do a taglist for this one so let me know if you wanna be added<333

wc: 83.2k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

prologue — can't go back

chapter one — from the start

chapter two — how to fall in love

chapter three — easier said

chapter four — playing pretend

chapter five — somehow, it works

chapter six — keep it simple

chapter seven — in the dark

chapter eight — what this could mean

chapter nine — if there’s a next time

chapter ten — alone with you

chapter eleven — wishful thinking

chapter twelve — it’s all for you

chapter thirteen — i don’t ever wanna leave

chapter fourteen — maybe it’s you

chapter fifteen — let it all out

chapter sixteen — fragments of time

chapter seventeen — maybe we got it right

chapter eighteen — for real this time

chapter nineteen — close to you *

epilogue — nothing else feels like this *

[pampushky]

i hate the air he breathes his foolish decrees

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader - chapter 2 - 5k

woooo welcome to part 2 my loves! sorry for the slight wait. I've been doing hot bitch shit (my actual job). but now we're back. enjoy the fuck out of it. TW: no mention of abuser other than as him. mentions of abandonment and severe physical trauma in the form of a house fire. lore drop on the main character too!!

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Mid-March 2005. Los Angeles.

Niki gets a call from an unknown number that wakes him up from a deep slumber, and he hardly has any time to think as he’s pulling a sweater over his head and forgoing a hat entirely. It’s his third day in as your legal guardian, and you’re already transferred to a state-of-the-art hospital in Los Angeles, across the country from where you’d lived previously. A newer set of mountains. A city to the hamlet you’d once known, hidden away in the foggy mountains of North Carolina.  

As he blearily walks into the hospital lobby, there’s already a small team of doctors waiting for him, explaining rapidly what's happening to you as they walk him up to your room in the burn ward. You’re in the best hospital for burns on the continent— Niki had made sure of it. Had paid for the flight over here two days ago, with a medical staff on board to keep you stable during the five-hour flight. 

The doctors swarming around your unconscious form resemble vultures. The burn center director explains everything to him when they finally get to your room. The rapid medical treatment nearly made you present early. Freakishly early, by all standards. It’s understood to have been a panic response by your body— because you're on the brink of death in the burn ward, your hormones so out of whack that for whatever reason, your brain had gone, ‘Oh, yes, it’s time to do that now.’

Studies had shown that those in areas where the risk of death was high often presented much earlier, with other cases that also supported something known as “panic presentation”. You’re an extreme example of the latter. But it had never been seen to this degree. You need to be knocked out for several days, going comatose while a team of doctors works around the clock to save your life while it seems likely you will melt away like the first snowfall on a sun-warmed road as it seems new complications get piled onto your case file every day. The way the doctor talks about you makes Niki feel like you’re more of a specimen meant for study, and not a pup who’d just lost her Dam. 

Marlene has already decorated the sterile room to reflect more on a child’s room. And wherever there’s an empty space on a table, she’s placed down vases full of fresh flowers. Flowering dogwood. That’s what the state flower was of North Carolina, and however early in the season for blooming it was, she managed to find fresh ones every day. Now, Marlene was back at the hotel, settling a new wave of interest about your identity while Niki tried to figure out what he was going to do with you when he's lead into the room.

You’re already on several new medications to prevent you from presenting early, having them inserted in through an IV and eventually, to be taken as a pill when you could swallow. You'll be on these same medications until you’re seven or eight, when they can start to consider weaning you off of them to let you present then because it’ll be safer. Niki hates the idea of you presenting even then. You should be almost fully grown when you present. Not— not still a pup. With baby teeth still in your mouth. You should be wrestling. Learning to access your canine form, and causing mayhem like his sons had. 

So he does what he’s been doing for the past five days. Niki sits quietly by your side in your private room. Holding your tiny hand while a machine breathes for you, not even five years old, and fighting for your life. Completely unaware of the complications your existence has thrown straight into Niki’s lap, dredging up old, old wounds that his sons have yet to recover from.

Because the great complication is that you’re his biological grandchild. 

Through a son, a beta, that neither Lukas nor Mathias had gotten to know. Or Niki, for that matter. But here you are. The only link to that son. To the ultimate undoing of his marriage and mating, his infidelity thrown back in his face in the form of a sedated, traumatized pup that can’t understand him through his accent.

Left without a dam, your mother. Lost to the roaring flames of a housefire that you’d somehow survived. Part of Niki wants to know how his son had ended up in the area, and if there are any other new descendants he should know about. So he petitions the court to gain access to your files before he legally adopts you, and he stares down at them before finally lifting the cover of the manila folder and starts to read.

All the files seem to stare right on back at Niki as he continues to pour through them, officially five minutes and nine seconds into being your legal guardian. They’re meticulous, just as expected— it had become standard for anyone who’d had so much as a visit to a hospital to create a DNA profile, especially after they presented. His affair child’s profile stares back at him, with what he can only assume is an up-to-date photo. Male. Beta. Signed away parental rights before birth. Austrian nationality. That’s all you have to go on for your biological father’s identity. 

That’s all that linked Niki to you, and how the social worker had managed to contact him. All other positive matches from your father’s side are his former mistress as your biological grandmother and his two sons with Marlene as your uncles. There are no other pups listed for his affair child. No other grandchildren that he has to worry about. Your dam’s profile is more complete. A smiling picture of her holding you as an infant, left by her family.

Female. Omega. Deceased. American nationality, born in Banner Elk, North Carolina. 

And under that:

Dam’s pack signed away pack and next of kin rights to the pup. Relevant health history is accessible through the International UN DNA database. Pack requested no contact order until the pup has reached legal age, or unless the pup does not survive her time in hospital, so they may bury her in the family plot with her Dam.

This makes a chill run down Niki’s spine. Your pack had… signed you away? The only people who had been familiar to you— and they had signed away their rights as though you were more of a burden than anything, only asking for you back if you were dead. It makes him shudder, as he looks down at your tiny body again, for what must have been the thousandth time since he’s been introduced to you. Since he’d so quickly agreed to become your legal guardian, your legal sire. Covered in bandages and hooked up to dozens of wires. 

The social worker explained that signing you away was them not wanting to pay for the massive medical bill, along with the scandal your birth had caused in the small community. Your Dam was unmated, and even worse, unmarried, raising you on her own in a less-than-up-to-code cabin her late father had left her, further out in the mountains, a thirty-minute drive into town. 

The matriarch of her pack had been well-regarded in the area— it was an open secret that she was looking for any excuse to remove you from the picture. This just happened to be the perfect excuse. How was she going to be able to pay for your medical costs on her own when it was just her? All the advanced treatments you’d need— it would be too much in her old age.

When told about the Children’s Health Insurance Programs that could easily provide care for you, your grand-dam had just made a sour face and told the Social Worker she was still signing away her rights. Her surviving children were quick to follow her lead.

What a backward system. Niki had growled to himself, pacing in the room. Reading the reports from the insurance company he’d managed to legally bully his way into receiving from your biological family. 

The cabin had burnt down in nearly an hour. You’d been trapped under a metal bed frame when the roof collapsed in on itself. When they’d found you, it had been a recovery effort for bodies. And despite it all, you’d survived, your whimpering and crying alerting the firefighters that you were alive. Severely burnt, with the old mattress and polyester blankets having melted and dripped across your little body as the embers settled. Half of your body severely burnt from where the flames could still reach you. Crying out for your Dam even as you were airlifted to the nearest hospital with a functioning burn ward.

Going over your files has become a habit for first past three days. Ever since Marlene had gone silent when Niki told her that he was going to adopt you, before brusquely starting to order furniture and calling countless contractors that a new pup-friendly room be added to his house in Hof. He’s lucky to at least be considered a friend of his former mate, otherwise, he would be stumbling through his second round of parenting. He looks down at the newest addition to his pack. You. Four and a half. With burns covering an incredible amount of your body. Nearly 45% percent of your torso, completely mangling one of your legs, crawling up your neck and dancing across your jaw. Now lying in a medically-induced coma to conserve your energy. 

You wake up nearly two days later. Five days into Niki’s tenure as your legal sire. Unable to scream. Eyes fixed on Niki as your little chest heaves with the effort it takes to breathe. You pull at your IV and try to snap at a nurse who tries to stop you. But your eyes are still fixed on Niki, likely horrified by his burns. You were glancing at your own bandaged arms and body as if to gauge how you would one day look. 

There is a wild look in your eyes as you look at him. The way you tremble as the doctors try to explain everything. It hurts Niki’s heart, especially with the gasping noise you let out before they sedate you again when you’re still not responding well to anything. Niki wants to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go. You mumble something out as you drift away again, tears in the corners of your eyes. Foggy eyes on the extravagant bouquets of flowers on the tables beside your bed and across the room.

Where is my Dam? 

Early February 2024. Woking.

Your left leg was acting up again. It always did when you were stressed. The fire had mangled it— and that was putting it lightly. Not bad enough to amputate, because that would be too easy, and they didn’t want to send your body into even more shock. So you had your crispy, chicken-fried, useless leg. You could put some weight on it now, after nearly twenty years of intense therapy and correcting surgeries. But it was still incredibly weak. All twisted, mottled skin and a full knee replacement.

That’s what had made it so easy for him. That’s what had made it easy for him to chase you down as you tried to leave every situation that saw him near you. Easily able to keep pace with your shambling, stress-induced walk as you choked on his scent. 

Your upper thigh twinges. The needle pierces your skin all over again. That was the only reason you’d been able to walk away without experiencing a true heat from whatever drug he’d hit you with. The bad, mangled leg of yours. Your downfall and savior. 

The halls are winding, but you can vaguely follow the way to your office from previous talks. You call Lewis the moment you get to the room. There’s already a brand-new mini fridge sitting on your desk, likely from the accommodations you’d listed in the countless documents you’d had to sign when you got hired. 

There’s a few people unboxing your items and they look a bit shocked to see you back from what was supposed to be a much longer meeting.

“Ms Lauda—”

“Leave, please,” you whisper while pacing across the room, trying to calm yourself down. You can feel your scent-blocking, adhesive strips tingling. Your scent glands, especially the damaged ones, threatening to blister from the stress of what just happened. You were going to be sacked for certain. Not only had you yelled at the driver you were meant to work with, you’d also thrown an empty can at him. “I’d like some space.”

The workers, your new assistants, you realize, hurry out, not even catching your mumbled thanks as you tuck yourself into a corner where you can’t be seen from the door. So much different than Williams. So much more support. Lewis doesn’t pick up immediately, but just as you’re about to call again, his contact photo appears on your screen. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay—” Is the first thing you hear, like the protective older brother he’s always situated himself as in your life. “What room are you in? I still haves ways to get into the classified parts of the MTC—” 

“I’m going to fucking kill Lando Norris,” You growl into the phone, and Lewis lets out a relieved noise, before breaking off into a fit of laughter, his voice more distant as if he’s trying to muffle himself. “Don’t laugh! That fucking brat, I should box his goddamn ears, showing up nearly an hour late to what was supposed to be our initial meeting—” 

“Ah, yeah, sounds like Lando!” 

“Fuck off, Lewis,” You whine, and he has the audacity to laugh even harder, because your accent slips, as it always seems to do when you’re with your immediate pack. You can hear him shuffle a bit. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” You concede to him with a soft sigh. You hear the chortling barks of Roscoe in the background of Lewis’s call. “I’m gonna do my job. But I’m gonna hate it. Unless I get switched to Oscar.”

“Don’t sound too hopeful.” Lewis chides on the other side of the phone, and you hear the doorknob jiggle, followed by a soft knock. “Sounds like you have some work to do.” 

He hangs up before you can say something in response to him, leaving the gentle knocking on the door to slowly drive you insane. Likely Andrea or Zak, telling you that you were going to be let go for committing a minor assault against their star driver. 

And you're right, it is Zak. But he looks more concerned than angry with you, immediately putting his hands up in a placating manner when you open the door as if you’re the one with all the power and he’s not the CEO of McLaren Racing, your ultimate boss. Your boss’s boss. The one who bulldozed his way into getting you on the team because he’d seen your work to get at least a modicum of respect back to Williams, and, in his own words, got a good vibe from you.

(And maybe Niki had been in his ear a little bit about it, but when Niki Lauda spoke, people had a habit of listening rather closely to whatever he said.)

“Mr. Brown,” You start formally, leaning down in a way that is traditionally seen as submitting and a very, very formal way to apologize before he starts to squawk in surprise at it all. 

“Don’t– What are you submitting for— are you alright?!”

The last thing you expect is Zak fretting over you like you’re a pup. He’s gently squishing your cheeks with his hands, checking you over, and you can see his nose twitching, as if he’s checking your scent for any signs of distress. Only to look confused by how… clean, you smell.

“Are you— are you still hurt from everything?”

“No, I just,” You take a step backward, and hold up your hands just like he had just been doing for you a few seconds ago. “It’s easier to hide my designation when I smell like this.”

He just looks confused at your explanation but doesn’t seem to question it.

“And you… want to continue hiding it?”

“Preferably.”

Even as you say it, you can see a bit of pity in his eyes. You know his mate is an omega. He has a pup who’s an omega. Both of which he supports wholeheartedly. You’d seen all the articles. Part of you is jealous. Another part just wants everyone to stop caring about what your designation may be. Why should anyone care what you are? 

You’re proud of yourself, regardless of your designation. You’re not some prize to be won! You can stand on your own two feet, you can take care of yourself. You had more than shown that—

Zak is hugging you. Rumbling softly like any parent would do for a distressed pup.

“You don’t have to justify it. I just need to know so I can make sure that no one else is told, aside from our medical people.” He whispers, and you sag against him. Relief fills your mind. “What— what do people think you’ve presented as?”

“Alpha. Like Vati. They think I’m an Alpha.” 

“We can work with that,” Zak pulls away, looking at you. There’s only worry in his eyes. “Can I ask one more thing?”

“Yeah,” You sniffle, not realizing you’d starting to tear up as you look at him. “What is it?”

“Why…. did you throw an empty can of Red Bull at Lando? You’re not in trouble, I just want to know why.”

You flush, and Zak just starts to laugh. 

McLaren is much, much different than Williams.

Lando has been sitting in a chair while Oscar screams at him. Andrea has disappeared. It’s been ten minutes and all he wants to do is curl up and die and apologize for commenting on your voice and being late and not charging his phone and really, every other thing that he’d done wrong, ever.

Yes. He is technically the older one. No, he shouldn’t be acting like such a pup over this.  

Yes. He should know better than to comment on things that people can’t change or help about themselves.

Yes, Oscar, Lando was aware that you had survived a very traumatic house fire that nearly killed you. No, it’s not okay that he called you a robotic bitch. No, he didn’t read the email about the apparent triggers that you had from this event. Frankly, he wasn’t even aware that they had emailed those to him. That seemed like a bit much.

“I mean seriously, Lando! This is ridiculous! Fucking calling her that!” 

It feels like he’s being lectured by his Dam again, her words blending English into Flemish until he can’t tell what she’s saying, just that she’s pissed at him. Instead, it’s just Oscar’s accent getting thicker and thicker until Lando’s certain he’s never heard anyone sound so furious with him, and that’s really saying something. 

“I get it,” Lando whines, letting his head slip so that he can press his forehead against the table. And he does feel bad! Really! “I didn’t know she’d respond like that!”

“Wonderful excuse to be a fuckhead, champ,” Oscar drawls, eyes narrowed. His arms are folded. He looks unimpressed. He smells more, now than ever, of rotting oranges. Lando can imagine the maggots. “I’m shocked you didn’t comment on her designation as well.”

“She’s an alpha! And she smells so medicine-y,” Lando wrinkles his nose, lifting up his head enough to glare at the omega in front of him. Oscar’s face is a blank mask of annoyance, with a flicker of some other mystery emotion. But he can at least tell what he’s thinking because he can smell his displeasure from across the room. It’s all rotten oranges, burning rubber, and singed hair. “C’mon! I didn’t know it’d set her off that much, man!”

“Commenting on traumatic events tends to do that to people.”

“How was I supposed to know it was traumatic?!”

“Wow, you really didn’t read any of the emails,” Oscar lets out a low huff, sitting across from Lando in one of the plush office chairs. “We’ve been in talks with her for weeks!”

“You were in talks with her, maybe,” Lando says snidely, narrowing his gaze at the omega across from him, “I didn’t think I needed a new race engineer, yet here we are. But you seemed awfully interested when you heard she was looking for a new team.”

Oscar scoffs. His cheeks turn slightly pink. “No, I wasn’t. She’s a good friend. I thought she’d be a good fit for the team.”

“Oh, so this has nothing to do with the fact that you have such an obvious crush on her? I bet Logan even helped set you up,” Lando knows he’s been a dick again. But he’s frustrated. He’ll get lectured by his therapist for this later, and he’s okay with that. He just needs to make Oscar squirm a little for his high-and-mighty attitude. “You want her pups, I bet. Already have the first three named.”

“Fuck off,” Oscar snarls, and Lando decides to keep digging a bit more. “It’s not like that! Besides— I’m courting someone!”

An awkward silence settles between the two. Oscar’s flushed pink. And Lando starts to grin. All evil like, in Oscar’s opinion. Gleefully, in his own. 

"Oh, but it is!” Lando chimes, his voice all sing-songy. He’s in full older brother mode. He knows exactly what to do to push Oscar’s buttons now that his teammate has shown his weakness. He’s done this with his sisters. And Oscar’s probably used to being the one doing the tormenting, as his family’s oldest pup. “You like her!” And then, with a very dramatic gasp, “Oh, you’re probably courting her! No wonder you wanted her here!”

Without so much as a warning, the Australian driver leaps at him with a snarl the moment the words are out of his mouth. They’re both tussling on the ground, before it turns into the two of them in their canine forms, snapping and snarling at each other. This is when Andrea decides to make a reappearance, looking a bit startled to see a mousy-brown wolf and a dark-brown wolf rolling around on the floor of the conference room. Oscar is large for an omega in his canine form, but still smaller than Lando. Lando is wirey, not as bulky as many would expect an Alpha to be. It’s rather evenly matched, considering how often the two of them are training. 

One moment, Lando has Oscar pinned. Another, Oscar has him pinned. Snarling and biting and kicking until the door opens again, and now it’s Andrea, Zak, and yourself watching the two of them wrestle until you fearlessly walk into the fray and grab Oscar by one of his hind legs.

Oscar turns human again immediately, hitting the ground with a loud ‘oof’ while Lando scurries away, watching as you start to lecture the other driver as he stands up. Your tone is hushed, but it’s clear that this seems to be a common occurrence between the two of you. You’re leaning over him, and the rumblings of annoyance and displeasure are clear as day.

Lando can’t help but smirk as the other man makes fleeting eye contact with him as you sit on his side of the table, taking your place as his engineer, despite your obvious contempt for him. 

“Now, let's get to business…” Andrea sighs. You keep your eyes ahead. Hands folded neatly in front of you. Letting his words blur until you feel Oscar gently tugging on your arm. He looks concerned, and you smile tiredly at him. Only just remembering the promise of cuddling in his nest with him when this was all done. 

You don’t even care if you look or act nothing like the Alpha that Lando thinks you are. You just slump against Oscar with a grumpy half-whine as he hoists you over his shoulder. The other driver lets out a loud snort at that, and your friend only glares at him, about to say something else before you bring one of your hands to tap his cheek lightly.

“Just get to th’nest,” You mumble, leaning against him. Your leg aches. You don’t want to walk. “Wanna get th’blockers off.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Oscar sighs, glaring at Lando over his shoulder before walking past with you in his arms. You don’t care about how it looks. You’ll deal with it later. And before you know it, you’re curled in the world’s comfiest nest, all in shades of orange and black. With the comforting scent of sweet tangerines and charcoal. Oscar hands you a nice little bottle of micellar water to help get the sticky adhesive of the blockers off, much more gentle with your skin than you ever are with yourself. He’s even soaked cotton rounds to make it a bit easier to apply, gently rubbing them across your scarred glands to clear any remnants of the adhesive off of your skin.

The smells of mountain rain and fresh baked peach cobbler mix with Oscar’s scent as you stretch, rubbing your cheeks tiredly.

You let yourself relax then. Sinking deep into the soft pillows as Oscar comes to spoon you from behind. A commonplace action, and had been since he started to get more and more bold with you in his attempts to court you. 

You can hear Oscar start to Facetime someone, probably Logan. But you honestly don’t care all that much— he’s there, and you’ll give your friend a full debrief, of course, after you’ve fully rested. 

“Your leg acting up?”

Oscar nudges you, and you grumble, trying to press your face further into the plushness of the nest, voice muffled by pillows. “Who cares if it is?”

“I do.”

“So do I!” Logan chimes in from the phone, and you roll over enough to glare at him. “Did you take all your meds, mouse?”

“Unfortunately, yes. So I’m afraid you’ll just have to put me down at this point—”

You don’t even have time to respond as Oscar cuffs your ear. You let out a dramatic whine, actually letting yourself act on your instinctual noises. Nothing hurts, of course. Oscar’s always been gentle, making sure nothing actually hurts when he wrestles with you or cuffs your ears. 

“Did you have to get my bad ear?” You whine, looking accusingly at the Aussie who just grins down at you, cuffing the same ear once again. “I’m gonna tell Lewis.”

“He doesn’t scare me, and besides, he’d probably agree with me! All, ‘C’mon, Mousey, that’s not how your therapist said to cope with your trauma—”

“That’s a bit scary, how accurate that was,” You prop yourself up to glare at your dear friend, only to smile broadly at him. You can’t help it, really. He manages to make you smile, even when you feel like shit. And even when he cuffs your bad ear by mistake, after swearing he won’t do it again.

In truth, the ear looks almost melted. It’s usually carefully hidden by your personal stylist, with hair masterfully combed over it. The skin around it— luckily missing your scalp— was mottled and pink. What was left of your ear was little more than a small ridge of skin and cartilage at this point, and was much the same in your canine appearance, just more dramatic without all the fur. The upper half of your ear was utterly gone, along with most of the lobe. It was the ear you were deaf in. 

“Can it even hurt if you’re deaf?”

“Yeah! Doesn’t mean it’s gone numb to the feeling,” you pout, looking at him as he sets his chin on your shoulder. Logan giggles from FaceTime. He’s set up somewhere, Williams blue all around him that makes you avert your gaze but continue talking to him nonetheless. “Ugh. Logan, I almost killed Lando.”

“She threw a can of Red Bull at him,” Oscar clarifies, to his rather shocked-looking boyfriend and courting partner. To his credit, it takes a few seconds before Logan starts to cackle.  

“It was empty!” You protest back, but there’s a wide smile on your face as you hazard a glance at your former partner. “He was being a little bitch!”

“Should I be offended I didn’t get the same treatment my first day?” Logan’s voice crackles and his face is frozen on the screen with a mix of a confused look and smirk, before serenading both of you with a jumbled, robotic mess before the call abruptly ends. 

“Stupid wifi,” Oscar mumbles, pulling the phone away to text his boyfriend to see what happened. You just settle back into your side of the nest, closing your eyes and letting yourself drift off while Oscar’s comforting scent wafts over in you waves. You could just about fall asleep when there’s a gentle knock at the door, followed by Andrea poking his head in. 

He blinks at the two of you. You blink back at him, already knowing you won't be able to take a much-needed like you had originally planned.

“Ah! Ms Lauda— can I speak with you for a second?”

“Can I do it from here?” you try to press yourself deeper into Oscar’s nest. You’d need to find a place to make one here— a nice, private room. Somewhere you can easily reapply your scent blockers and can fully surrender to your instincts until you were comfortable with more people knowing about your designation. “Took off my blockers.”

“Of course. I just wanted to check in, make sure everything was alright after… how the meeting went.”

There’s a hearty pause. As if he can tell you’re thinking over your words carefully.

“It certainly… went.”

“Ah. And… no other comments?”

“I meant what I said. You baby Lando.” You shift slightly. Tiredly. Giving the team principal the trademark Lauda stare from where you’re comfortably curled into the nest. So soft, yet so harsh at the same time.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re here to fix that,” Andrea smiles politely at you, and ducks out of the room without another word. You just settle deeper into Oscar’s nest, wondering what in the hell you’d gotten yourself into. The only thing on your mind when you finally manage to fall asleep is how much you miss your mother's fresh peach cobbler.

tags: @the-holy-trinity-l @laura-naruto-fan1998 @amalialeclerc @st0rmzi3 @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @seonghwaexile @mrsmelinda

[writeoffside]

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES, part two

♯ battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader - 2/?

PART ONE < here

summary: Continuation of part one of documents and destinies — The mentioned visitor comes to give you another visit after he comes in to return the files he had borrowed few days ago, both of you unaware to the forming interest inbetween the two of you

warnings: none - just swearing

info: english isn't my first language, i apologize in advance for all the mistakes (if there are any!)

a/n: part two finally woooo!!!! i loved writing angus so much, he is so silly:D i hope ur gonna like this chapter :))))

He couldn't stop thinking about that day. It's been nearly five days since he last saw you, as well for the first time.

He couldn't shake that whole moment from his thoughts. He imagined that little awkward wave you both gave to each other. The little smiles you threw. The whole interaction with you. He couldn't stop thinking about it.

He had work to do. He's read throughout the whole files he borrowed. Made copies of them, which he then gave to Alfred to check through them as well. Even as he was working, he couldn't stop his thoughts to wander to that interaction.

"Bruce?" A familiar voice sounded in the cave, pulling Bruce out of his thoughts. Alfred stepped out of the elevator and walked towards his hunched over frame.

"I was wondering if you've—" He stopped himself as he came to stand by Bruce. His eyes catching a certain video on one of the monitors in front of them, playing with the reddish filter over. The video was replaying on a loop. It was clearly a video from Bruce's eye lenses... Which held the interaction.

The screen showed the video where you stood in front of him. Your coat and bag drapped in your grasp and little smile plastered on your face. The video replayed the shared awkwardness you both had.

Bruce didn't even bother to look over at Alfred, who stood next to him. He didn't turn away from the monitors in front of him. He takes a step closer and observes the video in front of him. A hum makes its way from him as he watches the recording play.

Bruce finally shuts off the video and sighs as he does so. The memory stays in his head— the hesitant smiles, the eye contacts you've both had, awkward little waves... It plays over, over and over again. He remains silent, his eyes still glued to the monitor, where the video was shown before.

"Alfred," he finally breathed out as he turned his head to the side to look at his butler, who is standing there and leaning against the cane he holds.

"Maybe... Maybe it's time for a break, Bruce," he tells him as he puts a gentle reassuring hand onto his shoulder and squeezes. His body stiffening quickly at the touch.

A deep hum comes out of his chest and he stands up back onto his height. His eyes fixated on the monitors in front of him.

With no other word uttered, he's swiftly walking away from the butler, towards the elevator hidden in the darkness of the cave. His steps thumping against the hard floor as he walks away. Leaving his butler behind.

As the elevator escalates, the butler takes a step closer to the computers, monitors and more equipment on the table. He eyes the little folder icon on the monitor, which hides away the bright red colored video from the nights before.

He sighs as he reaches for the touchpad of the computer and moves the cursor towards the file what's sat on the screen. He presses the button and the screen lights up, the footage looping back to the beginning of the choosen clip.

There it is.

The screen is lit up with the clip that the young master has replayed countless of times in the past few days. The video doesn't hold the blackness sides of the cowl he wears during the nights. It's not through the eyes of the Vengeance.

But through the eyes of Bruce.

There is a woman, standing by his car, in front of an old apartment building. Her face was shined on by the glow of the city lights, a soft and genuine smile adoring her face.

The butler smiled at the sight. The footage followed all her movements. The way the lingered on her, the way his eyes followed her, how his focus was only on her, it didn't move nor shift. The footage showed how Bruce didn't watch with the cold stare what he had reserved for the criminals or the nights of work. It showed the brighter side.

There wasn't a fight, a crime scene, a chase with the criminals, no action. Just a moment of Bruce's real life, the shared intimate moment filled with the awkwardness and adoration inbetween each other. His usual cold behavior and confidence was replaced by this... Nearly shy, boyish behavior.

Alfred knew that under the footage, there was a smile hidden. A genuine one, not a one given to the cameras. A rare one.

He couldn't quite remember when was the last time Bruce has genuinely smiled like that, especially with a presence of someone else. It was an unique moment to be treasured.

The video played, the red colors shining onto the butler's face as he watched the video play. The woman tilts her head, her arms holding her things even tighter as another chuckle escapes her lips.

Then he heard it. Bruce's breathy laugh sounded in the video, as his head hangs down, his eyes adverting from the woman. The awkwardness breaking into something even more. It sounded natural, genuine. He knew Bruce for nearly his whole life, he knew that it was hard and and difficult for him to open up, let anyone in and hear him out. But this moment, it has changed everything, it was like Bruce was someone else. He had taken that one step that Alfred had always pushed him to take.

A smile tugs onto his lips as he watches the woman slowly take steps backwards, her cheeks brightly colored with a pink color. He couldn't believe that this was his Brice, talking to someone else than him and the common rich men and women he has to speak with other times.

The video ends with Bruce's hand in the view as he waves to the woman, who is already in the building.

It feels different one. The cave feels different. Alfred feels different. It's the same but also different... Everything seemed different at the moment.

The Prince of Gotham, Gotham's Billionaire, the one always hidden in his tower, no emotions showed on his pale face. The straight put answers with no hint of emotions in his voice, to this moment of shared awkward little smiles and conversations.

It was perfect.

With a final look at the footage, Alfred moved towards the elevator that Bruce took some moments ago. A sigh, once again, escapes his lips as he leans onto the cane he holds. His steps echoing in the cave.

He steps into the elevator and leans his back against the wall of it. The elevator began to rise as he pushed the button. The cave disappeared beneath the shadows and darkness as he was carried upstairs to the soft lights of the tower.

Alfred finally saw a different side of the young master. A different path. A one where the the young boy could step out of the way of darkness, where he hides within it, into a something softer, warmer. Something real.

Something human.

"Ring! Ring! Wake up, princess!" a voice pulls you out of the dreamy slumber you fell into. Work has been so exhausting the whole day. The amount of paperworks you had to check through, give to others, run around the building to get old ones, new ones. The amount of papers you've seen today is absurd.

Angus is standing infront of you. His wide toothy white smile on his face. The blonde hair slicked back with two straids falling on the side. Round glasses are perched on top of his nose. He's wearing a pastel brown suit jacket and a brighter pastel colored suit pants. A white button up underneath, with a black suit-tie with goldenish stripes peeking out.

"Fuck... What time is it?" you murmured out, pulling your head up from the table. Scretching your arms into the air as you lean back into the chair. Your hands fumbling over the mess of paperworks on the table, trying to find the hidden phone burried underneath all of them.

"It's nearly seven... But that's not the point, princess. You were supposed to send out the emails for the marketing shit that our boss is having... Like, two hours ago?" He leaned onto the doorframe and put his hand onto his side as he eyed you.

Two half-lidded blinking eyes stared back at him. Not awake enough to process the things he's saying.

You hummed as you slid away from the table on the chair. You spun around once and turned back to him and stared at the blonde man.

"And... I really need you to send out those emails! At the end of the day, at least, so we can finally finalize the last parts of the marketing thing! You know how angry Daniel gets if the—" He kept going, oblivious to the fact that the girl hasn't been listening to him for the whole time.

"Yeah! Got it! But first, let me just sleep for like... Five more minutes? I'll get back to it, Angie." You yawned and leaned your head onto the headrest of the chair. Your eyes closing. The weight of the whole day was coming back onto you, the exhaustion taking over once again.

There was a long pause between you, until it was interrupted by Angus clearing his throat awkwardly into the moment.

"Also," he began saying as he walked into the office and halfly sat onto your desk. His voice and tone sounding different than moments ago.

"Why the fuck did Bruce Wayne take you home few days ago?"

Your eyes snapped open at that sentence. Your whole body shooting up from the chair, making it slide back into the wall behind you. Your stomach twisted and heart skipped a beat.

Your hands went up to your head as you stared back at him with widened eyes. Your hands cluthing at your hair as you vividly remembered the night before. The night you met Bruce Wayne. The night he literally drove you home.

"Girl, don't look at me that way! That man literally picked you up bridal style, asked where exactly you lived and then he proceeded to walk out with you in his arms like in some fucking rom-com!" He threw his hands up into the air, his toothy smile back on his face as he spoke loudly.

"You saw that..." You mumbled as you turned around and walked around the office with your hands on your head. You couldn't believe the fact, that he carried you! In bridal style! And Into his car!

"Yeah, I fucking did! What the hell is going on in your damned life?" He spoke as he watched you pace around the office.

"Also, since when are you two on a fucking first-name and get-carried-home-like-a-fucking-disney-princess basis with the Gotham's billionaire prince?" His grin widened even more. Clearly enjoying this situation than you.

You rubbed your eyes hardly as you processed what he was currently saying to you. You weren't even hundred percent sure why he needed those archive files, let alone sure why he literally decided to personally carry you home. It didn't make any sense to you at the moment.

"I guess, he just felt bad leaving me alone asleep down there? He was just a client, he was there for work!" You shrugged your shoulders, trying to play it off while your thoughts were screaming and rumbling in your head.

"Right. Sure! That fucking explains why he was so kind enough to ask where you live and scoop you up like a damn damsel in distress. Jesus Christ!" He raised his voice as he threw his hands into air once again, "totally normal worker-client relationship stuff, yeah!"

"Okay, listen! I fell asleep, he picked me up, I don't know else I promise! When I woke up I was already in his car." You groaned as you walked back to your chair and fell into it, sliding even further against the wall.

"C'mon, princess! Bruce Wayne doesn't just show up out of nowhere and carry people home for fun!" He scoffed as he leaned towards you on top of your desk, that he's currently sat on top of.

You groaned once more and laid back into the chair, "Can we not? Please? I'm too tired for this."

Another scoff came out of Angus and he jumped off the desk and walked over to be in front of you, "Oh no, princess. I need answers! You don't just fall asleep at work and then wake up being carried by the Gotham's Prince, girl." He chuckled as he leans onto the side of her desk.

"Oh my god." He suddenly whispered. His mouth dropping open and hands coming to hold himself against the desk behind him.

"Are you secretly dating Bruce Wayne?"

The question came the most unexpected. His whole stance was stoic like he suddenly came to realization. Like a chikd discovering that it was their parents putting money under their pillow, not a tooth fairy. His eyes widened and mouth dropped.

"What the fuck?" You opened your eyes and started laughing loudly. Your hands coming in front of your mouth as you let out all your laughter.

"Okay, sorry, I just don't get it! But some of us wake up with fucking paperworks sticked to our faces or keyboard marks all over our faces. You wake up in car of a billionaire!" His eyes were practically bulging out of his head as he spoke. His hands gesturing around in the air.

"Do you realize how insane you sound, Angie?" You cannot comprehend all the wild theories coming out of mouth. He's fully in his own world with those theories.

"No, listen! What if he's testing you out for a new job at some high position at the Wayne Enterprises? No, no, no... Maybe, he's planning to make you his new secret muse! Or maybe, he thinks you're, like, the best new face of Vogue couple cover! Like... Imagine the headlines; The billionaire Bruce Wayne in relationship with an unknown girl—"

"I will pretend I never heard what just left your mouth." You breathe out as you slide your chair to him, pushing at his knees to get him off your desk. Your hands slapping his thighs.

"Sorry, princess. But there's no chance, that we're done talking about this!" He finally jumps off the desk and walks around towards the door, he touches the door frame and takes a last look at you with that toothy grin of his... And then he's gone.

The office is quiet once again. Some of the paperworks ended up crumbled as he was sat atop of. With an exhausting sigh, she drops her head against the desk and it lads with a thump!

It was late now. The office has gone even more quiet than usually. You were packing up, shoving the paperworks, files and the dark-purple colored folder into your bag. Already excited to go run through the door and go straight home, leave the day behind.

As you put the final folder into your bag a soft knock came from the doorway.

Your head snapped up to see the person. Your breath suddenly getting caught in your throat as you recognized the man, who just knocked on the office doorframe.

Standing there is the devil himself, Bruce Wayne.

He stood there, his arm up at the place of the doorframe, where he knocked onto few seconds before. As you looked at him, you could see his posture was different than last time. Less professional. His presense wasn't commanding and calm, but more of a hesitant one. His eyes scanning around the office and then landing back onto you.

He was wearing a white button-up shirt with a matching tie, underneath a dark buttoned suit vest. On top of it was a brown leather jacket. It was so much different outfit than the last time you saw him. His pants were baggier, but not as baggy as others wear. The top of his shoes were peeking out from the bottom of his pants.

You slowly stood up back to your height and blinked at the sight.

"Mr. Wayne— What... What are you doing here?" You stammered out with a quick clear of throat. Shifting on your weight slightly as you eyed the visitor.

"I'm about to return these," he said, mentioning his chin towards the files in his arms, "I borrowed them few days ago... From archives."

Your eyes flickered down to the files and realization came over you. He had actually taken some of the files home from the archives, probably already taken copies of them. You still wondered why he needed those archive files, when they haven't been updated nor opened in years.

"Oh! Those files! Thank you, Mr. Wayne!" you spoke as you flicked him a soft smile and walked over to take the files from his hands.

As you walked to him, he slowly entered the office, his gaze flickering around as if he was trying to find something interesting to gawk at other than you. But he couldn't find anything else, his gaze flickered back onto you and his eyes burned holes into yours.

"So," you began as you reached for the files, "did you find what you needed in them?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you." He paused and let go of the files as you took them from his hands. As the files fell right into your hands, the dust went flying around. Your face scrunching up as the dusk flew around.

"These are, like, ancient! Right?" A chuckle escaped your lips as you rambled, "I mean, woah. How are they still holding up? Looks like they would turn into dust as well!" You rambled more as you held onto the files.

His lips quirked into a little soft smile, his gaze on you, watching your every move. He leaned onto his leg as he stood in front of you.

"Yeah," he said softly, after a longer pause, he added "Are you embarrassed?"

Your heart felt like it stopped for a brief moment as those words left his mouth. Your eyes widened and your fingers gripped the dusty yellow papered files. "W-What? No. Why would I—" You stuttered out and then sighed, "Okay, maybe a little bit."

He raised an eyebrow at that, the faint smirk coming onto his face with a hint of amusement in it, "because of the files?"

A chuckle came out of your mouth at that, your mind was racing at this conversation, unsure what to say and what to not say. You could feel the color heating up on your cheeks. Your eyes moving everywhere but at him.

"I just didn't expect you to literally, you know! Carry me out of archives and then drive me home!" you said, your vocie mixed with embarrassment and awkwardness. It came flooding at you, the embarrassment of him, Bruce fucking Wayne, lifting you and carrying you like some helpless little figure, while you were asleep!

Your fingers were fumbling with the ends of the files and papers sticking out of them. Trying to distract yourself from this snd save yourself from another embarrassment. Your heart was pounding hardly in your chest, you hoped he couldn't hear it.

After a long pause, he finally spoke.

"You were exhausted." He said, almost in shy manner, "I couldn't just leave you there, asleep by yourself in the archives."

You chuckled nervously and shifted on your legs, "Still, I don't usually wake up to be driven home in billionaire's car!" A nervous chuckle escaped your lips.

He let out a soft laugh as well, "Well, you looked exhausted. I didn't want to wake you up and tell you to walk back... You needed the rest."

You felt a wave of relief come over you.

"Well. Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you said softly, "I was mortified when I woke up in your car, but... I appreciate it. Thank you." You smiled up at him, your eyes meeting his.

His gaze was soft, a little smile on his lips, his eyes held yours as he stared down. Then, with a small nod of his head, he said, "You don't need to be embarrassed. It's the least I could do. You work hard."

"I guess I do, Mr. Wayne. Maybe, you know... I should leave the office at time, huh?" You chuckled at that, smile plastered on your face.

"That would be nice," Bruce nods with a chuckle. Both of you shared a soft laugh. Both of you genuinely smiling at each other. The tension between them easing.

"I should get going." He says with a sigh as he stands back straight. His hands coming to his jacket to straight it out. His eyes leaving yours.

You smiled and nodded with a little 'yeah, me too.'

It felt surreal at that moment. You and Bruce Wayne talking once again. You knew that Angus will storm into your office once again and ask tons of questions about this.

As he leaves, he gives you a small glance and a small smile. And then he's gone. Not in your sight anymore. Your hands are sweaty against the files and you feel like your legs are wobbly. The sound of his footsteps fading down the hallfway as he leaves.

Another realization came drawing over you, his voice. His tone. The softness of his voice today, not demanding like the last time. Today it was near, of a shy one. A slight hesitation in his voice. That send a warmth all over your body, your cheeks gaining the redish colour once again. Flushed all over again.

You, finally, forced yourself to move. You turned around and dropped the dusty files onto your desk, sighing as you did so. The dust flying everywhere around the office. You slumped into your chair, sliding few steps back, staring blankly at the files he returned. It felt strange. He was just a client. He was there for work.

Right?

With a quick glance around your office, you stood up and pushed the chair back to its place. Grabbing your back and slinging it over your shoulder with a huff. There was no point of staying there longer, processing the day. You can do that home!

The building was already quiet, The only loud thing at the moment was your own mind. Your thoughts racing each other.

You stepped out of the office, locking it behind yourself. Your steps were wuick as you left the building into the cold breeze, it felt nice though. Cooling down the redness in her cheeks. Pulling the coat tighter around you as you walk down the pavement towards the nearest entrance of subway.

Your steps were quick, the heels clicking with each step you take. Almost hurriedly. Your thoughts were everything as you processed the day.

You walked around the entrance of the subway, nearly colliding with another man coming out of the entrance. You neay fall into him, making him let out an angry 'Watch where you go, damnit!"

A soft apology leaves your lips as you descend the stairs down to the subway. You fumble with the subway card as you tap it absentmindedly before you go through the turnstile. You go to the side where you would be getting on in few minutes. You lean against one of the cold pillars on the station as you wait. The station is pretty quiet for the night, not many people there.

The screech of an incoming train snaps you out of your racing thoughts. You quickly push yourself off the pillar and come to stand at the end of the line, waiting for the train to srrive at its position. Quickly pushing the button to open the doors as you move inside. Thankfully found a seat alone. You plump down onto it with a sigh as you lean yourself onto it. The doors close with a loud sound and the train moves, leaving into the dark tunnels of underground Gotham.

By the time the train reached your stopc, you were hurriedly out. Walking straight to your apartment.

Unknown to the man following your every step, perched on top of one of the buildings in the darkness, invisible in the shadows of Gotham.

To you the day ended, ready to sleep it all off. But for him, it just began.

NOTE FOR OUTFITS :)

what angus is wearing >>> angus' outfit

what bruce is wearing >>> bruce's outfit (with less baggier pants though)

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

part twooooo is here:) i hope you like as much as i did writing it! sorry for the wait xx

give it some love if u liked it thank uu <3

[thatdeadaquarius]

Soon.

☆

With a puzzled squint, you could see the adeptus was running over what you said in his mind, trying to parse out the meaning. Xiao then threw his head up out of his slight bow, almost glaring at you, “There is no task nor person more important than guarding you, my Lord. I will stand guard, worry not about my state.”

Nodding to you, he abruptly turned on his heel to shift to the side of the entrance to the mansion, his spear tall and ready. You’d have twitched a smile at him if you could, as you're sure he’s gotten a little more comfortable with you than when you first officially met. You’re also sure from meeting Zhongli just once in person that he’d have a small heart attack if he saw some of Xiao’s informal behavior.

But you’re glad he hasn’t, the more relaxed they are, especially considering your form, the better.

You duck inside, though the ceilings are so raised that you don’t have to go that low surprisingly. Huh, it was nice to be anticipated in a building usually sized for human heights. Wow. You’ve really reached the point of casually calling yourself inhuman.

…well, to be real with yourself right now, it might actually help to get more accustomed to that in case you’re never human again.

You also put that possibility back into the vault at the back of your mind.

☆

HEY I live, again,

I had a big life update what with my sib graduating grad school (getting their masters degree) at the same time we both moved like 2 states over from our home state 😅

and unfortunately, i wasnt able to get my monster of a sequel out in time to post it remotely to get it out to you guys while i was afk

(as i havent had wifi/free time consistently in like 2-3 weeks)

which, phew, im finally able to be settled in one place enough to write again, and have enough time in the day to not be dealing wiht my apartment to write ToT

i hope you guys arent too mad at me! (or have forgotten me?? sobs)

also.

i hear Natlan's coming out. 👀

I don't think it'll be out before i post the full (3 chapters total planned) sequel, but just in case, disclaimer-

🪄I am not to be held liable for not writing about Natlan bc it wasnt out yet woooo🪄

anyway, yeah its also taking a bit bc i wanna post the completed thing all in one go, over the course of like 3 days or so, that way u guys can actually look forward to the next little chapter in a reasonable amount of time lmao

well yknow, if anyones still reading this or my blog lol

happy summer you guys! I hope u all are having a good one so far, esp those of you in school, heart going out to yall fr <33

Catch you on the flip side (ao3 side?)✌️

Safe Travels,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue

@karmascreeches / @yomilyy / @0rah-s / @idontknowwhatimdoingbutweball / @blackstar-gazer / @voidsgarden / @a-gay-piece-of-paper / @oxyotl / @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback / @kurayamioterasu / @randompersoninyourworld / @byakuren100 / @lemonade7255

[demigod-jack-hearth]

THIS IS A SELF INSERT PJO OC RP BLOG

Please don't send donation asks because 1, I'm a minor and can't donate, 2, I feel guilty that I can't donate and 3, I can't tell whether they're scams or not

Moodboard by @reyna4ever

TWs

(mental health issues, SH, suicidal mentions, SA, occasionally gore, swearing)

Family is the most important thing

Name: Jack Hearth she/her

Age: 17. Birthday= 16th December

Sexuality : pansexual

Height : 6"2 (WOOOO, growth spurt)

Gender : female (jack's gone fully fem)

Pronouns : she/her

Godly parent: none/adopted by Hestia @unproblematic-hestia

Legacy of @bast-the-best26 (Egyptian goddess of cats)

Relationship status : single

Patrons

warm orange eyes, swimmers build, celestial bronze hand

Fatal flaw: low self-esteem + personal loyalty

Backstory :

parents died in a car crash, and she was chased by hellhounds, this is where Hestia found and saved her life, she then named her, her champion even if she is mortal, she then helped her get to CHB where she stayed for 6 years, before moving to CJ after the second giant war. She now moves between camps quite often

Powers : fire manipulation, can heal with fire, fire immunity, can summon food, charmspeak, manipulate love, enhanced agility, enhanced senses, partially immortal, plant manipulation, emotion manipulation, can communicate with cats, hydrokinetic, can speak with snakes, can sense monsters, can shapeshift, can control the winds, heals from moonlight, more energy from the moon, can cause someone to go insane, can communicate with dragons, can slightly control dragons, can create hallucinations

Parents : dead

Adopted by

@unproblematic-hestia = mom

@damiedantediane = dad

@mache-of-greece = mama

Siblings :

@thegroovydaughterofhestia

@unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia

@iceweavercatlover

Kids

Face claim :

Cat form

His weapons

There's 2 of these ⬇️

Important starters

Few occ notes

I also run the blog @in-this-together-forever @jacks-best-kid @snowflake-spawn @the-olympus-assassin

OCC is gender fluid - please use they/them unless I've specified

Occ is pan - I will make a lot of jokes about it

A lot of British jokes will be made - I am British

Fanart ⬇️

[xyvyl]

One More Race - Chapter 1 - Y/N

Summary: New to formula 1, Dutch driver Y/N L/N. F2 and F3 world champion, now racing for Lamborghini in F1. The only woman racing in F1 right now.

Chapter song: Legend - The Score

Word count: 1375

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2iH7vTDNnObb2HMBDuRhrY?si=9ec8ffb7ec164637

A/N: taglist open!

---------------🏎️---------------

Lights out and away we go!

The words ring in my ears as I start driving. Starting from P4 isn't bad, but George, Charles and Max were in front of me. Max obviously sped off, Charles following close behind.

I managed to pass George after turn 1, but Charles and Max already had a big gap between us.

After 5 laps I managed to catch up to charles and almost pass him, but turn 13 fucked it up.

“How much time is between me and leclerc?” I ask through the radio. “0.7 second, keep it up, you're almost in the DRS zone.” “copy.”

I do my best to keep this distance until the DRS zone, once in I manage to pass him with ease, putting me in P2.

Luckily Charles couldn't pass me, except for when I pitted, but i quickly regained my spot.

---------------🏎️---------------

“P2, P2. good job!”

I sit in silence for a while, driving in the car. P2? In the first race of the season? First race of my career in f1? P2?!

“Y/N?” I hear my engineer, shaking me out of the daze I was in.

“P2? Are you serious?” “very”

“WOOOO! P2 BABY!” I yell in excitement as I pull up to the p2 stand, getting out of the car.

I quickly take off my helmet to see who I ended up on the podium with.

“Max? Natuurlijk ben jij P1!" (of course you’re P1!) I congratulate Max, turning around to see Charles’ car pull into the p3 stand.

“Charles! Congrats man!” I walk up to his Ferrari, hugging him as soon as he climbs out of his car.

“Congrats Y/N you did amazing!”

I smile and run to my team, “P2 baby!” “Where did Logan end?”

“He got P8.” My mouth drops, p8? That's such an improvement from his time with Williams!

---------------🏎️---------------

The cooldown room was quiet when I entered it, probably because Max and Charles were too busy chugging their water bottles.

I sigh in contentment and grab my own water bottle, drinking every last drop.

“Congrats on P2 in your very first F1 race, Y/N.” Charles claps me on the back, making me almost choke on my water.

Max laughs in the background and I glare at him as I swallow my water.

“Thanks Charles, you did a great job as well! And Max?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you choke on your water” I smile at him, making Charles burst into laughter.

“Wow! Okay! What happened to, ‘beetje medelijden voor een mede-Nederlander'?" (A little compassion for a fellow Dutchman?) Max fakes being hurt as I stick my tongue out to him.

---------------🏎️---------------

Standing on the podium feels the same, yet so different from F2 and F3… nevertheless, it's an amazing feeling. Standing there, the trophee in my hands and champagne next to me and millions of people watching me stand there next to Max and Charles. The Dutch national anthem in the background.

I laugh as I put the trophee down and grab the champagne, already being targeted by both Charles and Max.

I launch the bottle down to the floor as the liquid starts spraying everywhere, mostly at Max and Charles, but also my team who are below the stands.

Everything seems to go in slow motion as I put the bottle to my mouth and drink the liquid, Max and Charles doing the same.

The first woman to stand on the F1 podium..

---------------🏎️---------------

“Y/N!” I turn around and see Logan running up to me.

“Logan! Congrats on P8!” I give him a hug, smiling.

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to come with us to get dinner, to celebrate.” He smiles when I nod.

“Wait, you said ‘us’ who else is going?” I question him.

“You, me, Max, Charles, George, Lando, Lewis, Carlos and Oscar.” He smiles, making me smile.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!” I exclaim as I run to my black lambo, Logan following closely behind.

The ride there wasn't too long, since the restaurant was almost next to our hotel, which isn't too far from the track either.

“We're here, ready to celebrate?” Logan grins as he turns the car off.

I nod, a huge smile on my face as I get out of the car.

I wait for a hot minute to wait for Logan as he gets out of the car.

“Let’s go!” I exclaim as I speed walk into the restaurant. As soon as I enter I see the others sitting at the reserved table.

“Hi guys!” I smile as I sit down next to Lando, who smiles at me. Logan takes the seat next to me.

“We thought you guys weren't coming.” Max jokes, making me stick out my tongue at him. “Ha ha, very funny Max, why wouldn't we come? We had amazing results!” I laugh, making the rest of the table laugh too.

“Have you seen twitter lately?” Lando asks me, “No, why?”

“You're getting mixed responses to being the only woman on the grid..” His response made me look at him confused.

“I take it I shouldn't look at it?” I smile, already knowing the answer.

Lando only confirmed it by nodding his head. I put my phone back in my purse and grabbed the menu.

“Did you guys already order?” Most of the table shook their heads.

“We wanted to wait until you two were finally here.” Lewis smiles at me.

The waiter comes and we all order. After we got our food and started eating, I took a second to look around the table.

All talented male drivers, and me, a female driver who somehow got a seat with Lamborghini..

I sigh and Carlos notices, looking at me with a look that says, ‘are you okay?’, to which I nod. When I start eating I notice in the corner of my eye that Lando is looking at me, but I pay it no mind and enjoy the food in front of me.

---------------🏎️---------------

After we all finally finished our food, we paid separately and went on our way. Me, Lando and logan staying behind for a little.

“So.. how was your first ever F1 race?” Lando asked and I could sense the awkwardness in his voice.

I smile, “Amazing, the whole grid is nice, our team is great! The car is just… wow, I don't have enough words to describe this feeling.” Logan and Lando smile at that as the valet comes out with Logan’s car.

I give Lando a hug and we get in the car.

“How was your food?” I ask Logan, trying to make conversation.

“It was good, yours?” okay.. We're both awkward..

I nod and look out the window, enjoying the view.

---------------🏎️---------------

I dropped myself on my bed, the hotel we're staying at was amazing, comfortable beds, huge bathroom, just amazing. 

Logan's room isn't far from mine, literally next to mine.

I sigh, a smile on my face as I look towards the giant window overlooking the race track. A ping comes from my phone. It's Logan,

‘Plane leaves at 8, meet at my room at 6?’

I quickly reply, ‘I'll be there!’

8 am.. So early…

I roll my eyes at the time.

I get up from the bed and walk to the bathroom, getting ready for bed.

When I return I see my phone on my bed, exploding with messages, both from messages and twitter.

I remember what Lando said at dinner, ‘You’re getting mixed responses to being the only woman on the grid..’ 

I pick up my phone and decide to look at the messages first, seeing messages from almost the whole grid, but mostly Lando and Logan.

‘Don't listen to whatever they say’ -Lando

‘If you want to talk, i'm here’ -Logan

‘Twitter doesn't know anything, you're an amazing driver and friend’ -Lando

‘I think they might be blind, you got p2 all on your own’ -Lando

‘You're an amazing friend, teammate and driver and you're a world champion in f2 and f3! Don't listen to them!’ -Logan

Their messages put worry in me and I hesitated clicking on the twitter icon..

But I eventually did and what I read and saw…

[seoulzie]

sleepless encounters

───── CAPELLA ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 1 the brightest star in the northern constellation, auriga

synopsis: beomgyu, a high school insomniac, finds a hidden observatory tower - only to discover another sleepless soul, y/n, already there. trapped together, initial awkwardness gives way to connection as they share their struggles.

彡★ pairing: beomgyu x f!reader 彡★ genre: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers au, university au 彡★ warnings: sleep disorders, mental health issues, physical violence, emotional distress, mild language, family dynamics (i swear its not that serious i just tag a lot)

( this is part of a longer work ) ⤷ read whispers of the unsleeping here!

SEUL SPEAKS! first chapter!! woooo!! aur alps means "alpha auriga" which is another name for the star capella heh i wrote this in the span of two days & it is very much proofread but as always, if i missed anything, pls let me know~!

CHAPTER 1: AUR ALPS word count: 7.5K

the first light of dawn barely peeked through the curtains, rousing you from another restless night. insomnia had been a constant companion for as long as you could remember. frustration gnawed at you with each tick of the clock as minutes bled into an hour.

finally, defeated, you threw off the covers. no point in lying there anymore. you rolled out of bed, rubbed your eyes gritty with fatigue, and began your morning routine.

the routine of getting ready for school felt both familiar and exhausting. each step, from washing your face that felt heavy with sleep to pulling on your uniform, was a battle against fatigue clinging to you like a physical weight. as you slipped on your skirt, your fingers brushed against something unexpected – a crumpled wad of bills tucked into the pocket. a small smile played on your lips. "well, that's a welcome surprise," you thought, tucking the money into your wallet.

descending the stairs, you called out, "mom? are you still here?" but there was no response. you noticed a plate of food on the kitchen table, neatly covered with a note: "have a great day at school! love, mom."

you smiled. your mom always found a way to care for you, even with your busy schedule. you ate your breakfast quickly, savoring the homemade meal, before grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

as you stepped outside, you were greeted by the crisp morning air. a few houses down the street, mr. yu, your neighbor with a permanent scowl etched onto his face, was watering his prized petunias. his eyes inevitably landed on you, his lips pursing in disapproval.

"going to school so early, young lady? wouldn't have thought you were such a studious one," he remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

you just smiled. "good morning, mr. yu. early bird gets the worm, right?" you countered, dodging his veiled criticism. dealing with mr. yu’s daily commentary was an art form you had mastered. a quick joke, a disarming smile, and the grumpy neighbor's negativity usually dissipated. today, however, mr. yu seemed particularly disgruntled. 

mr. yu huffed but said nothing more as you walked past him, a playful grin on your face.

you hurried down the street, your pace quickening under mr. yu’s scrutiny. you reached the corner and took a deep breath, the fresh air filling your lungs. the walk to school was unusually quiet. the early hour meant most students were still nestled in their beds, blissfully unaware of your daily struggle to stay awake.

because you had woken up earlier than usual, you realized you had enough time to stop by your favorite café. this was a rare treat since you typically only visited after school. the café was a cozy little spot, with a warm and inviting atmosphere. when you entered, the familiar sound of the door chime welcomed you.

"y/n! an early bird, aren't you?" a friendly voice greeted you as you pushed open the door. it was minho, the barista with a perpetually tired smile.

"couldn't sleep," you confessed sheepishly. "usual?"

minho chuckled, already reaching for your favorite iced caramel latte. "have it right here."

"you know me too well," you grinned, adding, "make it a takeout, please."

minho winked. "coming right up," he said, expertly adding a swirl of whipped cream and a drizzle of caramel sauce.

the coffee was a secret weapon you deployed on these mornings. the cool sweetness was a welcome shock to your system, a temporary antidote to the fatigue clinging to you like cobwebs. while minho finished preparing your order, you whipped out your phone, pretending to be engrossed in a text message.

"here you go, sleepyhead," minho said, sliding the coffee across the counter. "on the house, consider it a pre-dawn pick-me-up."

your eyes widened in surprise. "you don't have to—"

"think of it as an investment in future caffeine sales," minho chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "besides, you always brighten this place up, even at this ungodly hour."

a genuine smile bloomed on your face. grabbing the coffee, you mumbled a thank you before slipping out into the quiet morning.

by the time you reached school, the hallways were still relatively empty. not many students had arrived yet. you wandered through the corridors, enjoying the calm before the storm of a typical school day. eventually, you made your way to your first class. the room was mostly empty except for a few students napping at their desks. you envied how easily they could fall asleep.

settling into your seat, you began organizing your supplies. a few minutes later, your friend jihye walked in, looking surprised to see you.

"morning! you're here early. what's the occasion?" jihye teased, and you just smiled. "just wanted to get a head start today."

jihye, oblivious to your secret, merely shrugged. you settled into your seats, exchanging hushed whispers as the first few students trickled into the classroom.

your conversation was cut short as the teacher walked in and started the lesson. you focused on your work, diligently taking notes and solving problems. despite your lack of sleep, you managed to stay alert.

lunchtime arrived, and the cafeteria buzzed with activity. you sat with jihye and a few other friends, enjoying their usual banter and laughter.

"hey, y/n!," jihye said between bites of her sandwich. "do you want to hang out during free period today? we could go to the library or something."

"actually," you started, your voice soft, "i think i might have to pass on that today. i promised ms. lee i'd help her out with something in the astronomy club during the free period."

jihye's brows furrowed in confusion. "astronomy club? but isn't that, like, completely dead? remember the fire last year?"

you flinched at the memory. the fire that ravaged the observatory tower at the edge of the schoolyard had indeed put a damper on the astronomy club's activities. most students, spooked by the incident, had abandoned the club altogether.

"technically, it still exists," you mumbled, avoiding jihye's gaze. "and technically, i'm still the president." a small, defiant part of you swelled with pride. just because everyone else gave up, didn't mean you had to.

jihye's eyes widened. "woah, you serious? you're the sole member of the astronomy club?"

you forced a small smile. "something like that." jihye, bless her heart, could be a tad nosy sometimes. but you couldn't tell her the real reason why you spent your free periods in the observatory. it wasn't about dusty telescopes or gazing at the stars. it was about the only place you could steal a few precious moments of sleep, hidden from the world.

"well," jihye said, her voice softening. "if you're sure about the astronomy club…"

"positive," you chimed in a little too brightly. "rain or shine, duty calls right?"

jihye chuckled, a hint of suspicion lingering in her eyes. "alright, alright. don't overdo it, you. rest is important, even for presidents of dead clubs."

your smile faltered slightly. rest. the very word felt like a cruel joke. "i'll keep that in mind," you managed, forcing a light tone.

the rest of the day passed in a blur of classes, notes, and forced smiles. every stolen glance at the clock felt like an eternity. finally, the sweet chime of the bell at the end of the day signaled freedom, or at least a temporary escape from watchful eyes.

with a mumbled goodbye to jihye, you dashed out of the classroom, your heart pounding in your chest. the observatory stood alone on the edge of the schoolyard, a stark silhouette against the setting sun. it looked forlorn, a forgotten relic of a bygone era. yet, to you, it was a sanctuary, a place where you could finally shed the mask of forced normalcy and surrender to the exhaustion that gnawed inside.

you quickened your pace, reaching the observatory and pushing open the heavy wooden door with a sigh of relief. the musty scent of old books and dust greeted you, a familiar and strangely comforting aroma. you slipped through the door and up a rickety staircase to the top floor with practiced ease.

there, under the expansive dome roof, lay your makeshift haven – a bed of thick comforters and pillows positioned right beneath the open skylight. it wasn't much, but for you, it was peace amidst the relentless war with sleep. 

you settled onto your bed, pulling the comforter around you. the warmth and the gentle light filtering through the observatory’s domed roof created a cocoon of comfort. as you lay there, you felt your eyelids grow heavy, the exhaustion from countless sleepless nights finally catching up to her. you took a deep breath, letting the peaceful silence of the observatory lull you into a rare and much-needed sleep.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

today was the day. the day choi beomgyu finally gets some sleep. not the kind you get after cramming for exams or the fitful kind after practice – no, this was pure, uninterrupted shut-eye.

he bolted out of the classroom the second the bell for his free period chimed, ignoring soobin's shouts about lunch "yah, beomgyu! aren't you hungry?" yeah, hungry for sleep, maybe! he weaved through the halls, walking towards the astronomy tower.

of course, fate had other plans. right as he rounded a corner, he practically collided with the bane of his existence – student council president kim jinhyun. now, jinhyun loved to preach about school rules, yet here he was, sprinting down the hallway with a stack of papers clutched in his sweaty hand. hypocrite much?

"watch where you're going!" jinhyun's voice called out. you know you're not supposed to run in the halls," he scolded.

"i wasn't running, i was speed walking," beomgyu protested, keeping his voice carefully neutral. he knew better than to antagonize jinhyun further, especially when the student council president looked like he was about to combust. but he couldn't resist a small jab. "seems a bit hypocritical coming from someone who appears to be auditioning for the track team."

jinhyun's face flushed a deeper shade of red, the color creeping not just up his neck but even to the tips of his perfectly styled hair. "that's not the point," he sputtered, his voice hitching slightly. "there are rules, beomgyu, and they apply to everyone."

beomgyu raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "of course, president kim. rules are sacred. though, perhaps there should be an amendment for extenuating circumstances? like, say, if someone was tremendously behind schedule due to, i don't know, maybe spilling their precious student council paperwork all over the floor?"

jinhyun's eyes darted down to the stack of papers clutched precariously in his hand. beomgyu couldn't miss the way his grip tightened, his knuckles turning white.

"that's none of your concern," jinhyun snapped, his voice strained. he took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "just move aside. i need to get to the faculty lounge… now.”

finally, after navigating the labyrinthine hallways and avoiding further-ins with authority figures, beomgyu arrived at the old astronomical observatory. the door creaked loudly as he pushed it open, and a shaft of dusty sunlight sliced through the gloom, revealing a spiral staircase that corkscrewed upwards, leading him towards the astronomy tower. he hesitated for a moment, peering inside, a mixture of curiosity and trepidation pulling at him.

the observatory was a large, circular room with a domed roof that let in streams of natural light. dust motes floated in the air, and old telescopes and equipment were scattered about. despite the layer of dust and the slightly musty smell, the place had a certain charm. beomgyu took a deep breath, feeling a sense of awe and appreciation for the space.

as he slowly stepped inside, his eyes scanned the room, taking in the scene. but then he noticed something in the corner—a figure laid out on a makeshift bed of thick comforters and pillows. his heart skipped a beat as the realization dawned on him.

why the fuck is there a girl here?

his mind raced as he tried to process the unexpected sight. he had come here to find a quiet place to sleep, not to stumble upon someone else's secret hideout. beomgyu stood there, frozen in place, unsure of what to do next.

would she wake up if he moved closer? should he just leave and find another spot? but where else could he go?

he tiptoed closer, the floorboards groaning under his weight. "hello?" he called out hesitantly. the figure didn't move. he cleared his throat, the sound echoing eerily in the dusty room. "is someone there?"

a disgruntled groan rumbled from the darkness, punctuated by a grumble that sounded suspiciously like, "leave me alone…" beomgyu couldn't help but stifle a grin.

this wasn't some horror movie, was it? maybe he should just bolt. but then, the figure shifted slightly, the sheet slipping down to reveal a mess of hair and a sliver of a cheek. hesitantly, beomgyu inched closer.

beomgyu debated turning around and leaving. maybe this whole tower idea was a bad one. but curiosity, that pesky little gremlin, wouldn't let him. he wasn't one to back down from a challenge, especially not a challenge shrouded in a sheet.

with a newfound resolve, he tapped the figure lightly on the shoulder. the groan this time was more pronounced, followed by a muffled curse. 

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

your eyes snapped open, heart hammering against your ribs. a figure loomed over you, shrouded in the dim light filtering through the dusty window. 

you scrambled back, grabbing your bag that lay beside the makeshift bed. "uhm… hi?" your voice came out a squeak, barely audible. "what are you doing here?"

the person chuckled, a low, almost amused sound. "i could ask you the same thing"

panic surged through you as you scrambled to your feet, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i was just… taking a nap. i didn't think anyone would come here," you said quickly, trying to think of an escape plan.

you darted toward the door, yanking on the handle, but it wouldn't budge. you pulled harder, desperation creeping into your movements. you turned to face the boy, your face pale. "did you shut the door?"

the figure stepped closer, the faint sunlight revealing a mop of dark hair. "relax," he said, his voice surprisingly calm. "i didn't lock you in."

you whirled around, fear giving way to a flicker of anger. "then why won't it open?" your eyes darted to the doorknob, a sick feeling settling in your stomach. the lock was busted, hanging crookedly from the frame. this door could only be opened from the outside.

"oh," he said, his voice laced with a hint of surprise. "didn't notice that."

your heart plummeted. trapped in a dusty abandoned tower with a stranger? today couldn't get any worse.

"who are you?" you demanded, voice trembling. "how did you get in here?

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "look, i'm not some kind of creep, okay? my name's beomgyu. and i was just about to settle in for a nap when i saw you here."

slowly, hesitantly, you lowered the bag clutched protectively to your chest. this beomgyu didn't seem dangerous, more… confused.

"you… you were going to sleep here?" you asked, disbelief coloring your voice.

beomgyu shrugged. "trying to find a place to nap. i've got insomnia, and it's been a real bitch lately. thought this place would be perfect, but looks like someone beat me to it."

you couldn't help but scoff. "clearly."

beomgyu's brow furrowed in frustration. "don't you have your phone?" he asked, his voice laced with a growing edge of impatience. "just call someone for help."

the simple suggestion felt like a punch to the gut. you clutched your bag tighter, an instinctive protectiveness rising within you. you didn't want anyone to see what was inside, especially not the stranger trapped here with you.

"i… i do," you mumbled, your voice barely a whisper. the lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but the idea of handing over your phone, your only lifeline to some semblance of normalcy, was unbearable.

beomgyu's frustration boiled over. "then call whoever you need to get us out of here!" he demanded, his voice sharp.

you flinched at the harsh tone, the urge to lash back rising. but you knew it wasn't his fault. he simply wanted to get out, and your hesitation was making everything more difficult.

taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to explain, surprised by the words tumbling out of your mouth. "it's not that simple," you blurted, the quiet desperation finally bubbling to the surface.

beomgyu blinked, taken aback by your outburst. he stared at you for a long moment, waiting for you to continue.

swallowing the lump in your throat, you spoke again, your voice trembling slightly. "i can't sleep at night," you confessed, the words heavy with a secret you'd held close for so long. "it drives me crazy! i get headaches all day and feel so exhausted, but i can't seem to fall asleep. so, i come here to rest."

a flicker of surprise crossed beomgyu's face, quickly followed by something that looked suspiciously like understanding. the realization seemed to dawn on him slowly, a connection forming between you despite the strange circumstances.

suddenly, a strange sense of vulnerability washed over you. you hadn't meant to reveal your secret, but the words had escaped before you could stop them. here you were, trapped in a dusty room with a stranger, yet you'd opened up a part of yourself you'd kept hidden for so long.

"look," beomgyu said, his voice softer now, the harshness gone. "i get it. i have a friend named soobin. he's one of the few people who knows i have insomnia too. we can call him. he'd be able to help us."

he held out your phone towards you, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of consent. relief washed over you, a wave that calmed the storm of emotions churning within.

maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be so bad after all.

with a silent nod, you allowed beomgyu to take your phone. as he dialed a number and started explaining your predicament to soobin, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him. 

the afternoon sun slanted through the dusty window, painting golden stripes across the floor. beomgyu's voice, low and calming as he spoke with his friend, was a soothing counterpoint to the frantic drumming of your heart. realizing how tense you'd been, you sank back onto the thing you call a bed, the worn blankets offering a surprising sense of comfort.

he finished the call with a sigh of relief. "soobin has class but he'll come get us soon. he should be here in about twenty minutes."

he shuffled closer, settling down beside me on the dusty floor. the proximity sent a jolt through you, but it wasn't the same fear as before. now, it was laced with a strange curiosity.

"you know, i've always been under the impression that you were just a popular stoner, beomgyu," you confessed after he hung up, a wry smile playing on your lips.

he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "well," he said, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "i am always sleepy and irritable, so i guess that tracks."

"but man," beomgyu sighed, leaning back against the dusty wall, "is this the perfect place to sleep, or what?"

you glanced around the room, taking in the chipped paint, the cobwebs clinging to the corners, and the single, flickering lightbulb hanging precariously from the ceiling. "perfect might be a strong word," you admitted with a smile.

"okay, okay," he conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender. "maybe 'peaceful' is a better description."

there was a moment of silence as you both processed this unexpected connection. you studied beomgyu, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the tension in his shoulders. you knew all too well the toll insomnia could take.

beomgyu glanced at you, looking thoughtful. "so, how long have you been using this place?"

"a few months," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "ever since the fire."

beomgyu's brow furrowed. "the fire?"

you nodded, a flicker of sadness crossing your features. "yeah, the one that ripped through the old science wing last year. remember? they condemned this whole tower as a safety hazard."

a wave of realization washed over beomgyu. the faint smell of smoke that lingered in the air, the boarded-up windows on the lower floors – it all clicked into place.

"so, this has been your secret ever since?" he asked a hint of awe in his voice.

you gave a small smile. "yeah. helps me get through the day without falling apart."

beomgyu nodded, understanding clear in his eyes. "guess we have more in common than i thought."

you fell into an easy conversation, talking about the things that kept you awake at night – the pressure of school, the nagging feeling of never doing enough, the weight of unsaid words hanging heavy in the air. as you were speaking, a heavy silence fell upon the room.

glancing over at beomgyu, you found him slumped against the wall, eyes closed. his normally messy hair seemed even more tousled, and a faint line creased his brow. a small, surprised laugh escaped your lips. here he was, the infamous beomgyu, the guy who seemed to effortlessly glide through life, sound asleep beside you.

a pang of sympathy stabbed at you. maybe his effortless facade wasn't so effortless after all.

shifting carefully, you made yourself a little more comfortable on the makeshift bed. your movements were limited, but you managed to prop yourself up with a pillow. stealing another glance at beomgyu, you noticed the slight rise and fall of his chest, a testament to his deep sleep.

hesitantly, you reached out a hand, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. the gesture felt oddly intimate, yet strangely comforting.

suddenly, beomgyu's head bobbed forward, landing with a soft thud on your shoulder. your breath hitched. in all the years you'd dreamt of sharing this place, a moment of vulnerability, you hadn't imagined it playing out like this.

a blush crept up your cheeks, but before you could react, a tired sigh escaped beomgyu's lips. your options were limited. you could wake him, but he looked so peaceful, so utterly exhausted.

with a resigned sigh, you carefully adjusted yourself, trying to find a comfortable position with his head on your shoulder. the dust motes danced in the afternoon sunbeams, casting playful shadows around the room. despite the unconventional situation, a sense of drowsiness washed over you.

perhaps, just for a little while, getting some sleep wasn't such a bad idea.

soon, your own head was lying atop beomgyu's, and for the first time in a long while, you felt the edges of sleep pulling you in

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

the rusty lock creaked open, jolting you and beomgyu awake. a wave of relief washed over you as soobin, his face etched with amusement, stepped inside.

"looks like i got here just in time," soobin said, his grin widening.

a blush crept up your neck, mirroring the one blooming on beomgyu’s face. relief and a touch of sheepishness washed over you both as you scrambled to your feet, disentangling yourselves in a flurry of fumbled apologies. 

stepping out of the dusty observatory and back into the sunlight, your eyes landed on a glint of silver of a pen peeking out from soobin's id holder. a playful idea sparked in your mind.

"hey soobin," you said, "can i borrow that pen for a second?"

without a second thought, soobin unclipped the pen and handed it over. you quickly scribbled something on your palm.

"high five?" you asked beomgyu, extending your hand.

beomgyu, still dazed from his unexpected nap, met your hand with a puzzled slap. the wet ink transferred, and as his eyes landed on his palm, his eyes widened curiously, your number, neatly written, stared back at him.

"only for you!" you called out, a rush of excitement propelling you down the stairs.

soobin watched you go, then glanced at his now empty hand. "she didn't give me back my pen," he remarked, shaking his head with a smile.

beomgyu chuckled, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest. he stared at the number on his hand, the day's events replaying in his mind. maybe the nap hadn't been so bad after all.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

a few days later

beomgyu sat in the nurse’s office, his gaze fixed on the floor. a fresh bandage felt stiff and itchy against his cheek, a reminder of the throbbing ache beneath. he barely acknowledged the nurse as she tended to his wound, too tired and frustrated to engage in conversation.

"looks like someone walked face-first into a door," the nurse remarked, her voice laced with a knowing amusement that made beomgyu clench his jaw. he mumbled a noncommittal reply, his eyes darting to the chipped paint on the wall opposite him, anywhere but the concern etched on the nurse's face.

"you must have some bad luck to end up at the clinic right before the school festival, huh?" the nurse remarked, her tone light and conversational.

"yeah, i guess so," beomgyu replied dully, still not looking up.

the nurse, ms. yura, noticed the tired bags under his eyes as she swirled her coffee in her cup. "you know, they say 1 out of 3 people in korea struggle with some kind of sleeping disorder," she commented, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "they know sleep is important and feel pressured to get some, which leads to stress building up. it's a vicious cycle."

beomgyu finally looked up, his expression guarded. "i never said i had trouble sleeping and isn't stress just... i don't know... part of life?"

ms. yura sipped her coffee, considering his words. "there's a 6-second period where your anger peaks when triggered by stress. if you can shut it down in that moment, your anger will subside. you know, sometimes taking a deep breath and counting to ten can really help." her voice held a knowing quality that made beomgyu squirm in his seat

just then, the clinic door swung open, and you strode in, groaning dramatically. "ms. yura~, i got hit by a ball," you whined, rubbing your arm with an exaggerated pout. you stopped short when you saw beomgyu sitting there, and they stared at each other in surprise.

the nurse chuckled awkwardly, glancing between you. "so, you two know each other, huh?"

you quickly looked away, feeling a flush of embarrassment. beomgyu, on the other hand, just sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and oddity about this unexpected encounter. 

after ms. yura tended to your minor injury, the two of you left the clinic together, an unusual silence hanging between you.

you walked ahead, happily skipping along. beomgyu trailed behind, his shoulders slumped and a faint grimace playing on his lips, a stark contrast to your sunny mood. you turned back to face him, walking backward with a bright smile. "soo... what happened to your face?" you asked, concern flickering in your eyes.

beomgyu mumbled something inaudible, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground. you tilted your head, urging him to explain further.

"ugh, fine," he sighed, resignation flickering across his features. "some jerk accidentally hit me with a ball," beomgyu replied, his tone flat.

your eyes widened in surprise. "so you hit him back?" the question tumbled out before you could filter it, curiosity bubbling over.

beomgyu shrugged, his expression hardening. "he refused to apologize then i hit him," he muttered, scuffing his shoe against the ground.

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "uh, okay then." you decided to switch the topic. "i haven't seen you since that one time. did you get over your sleeplessness?"

beomgyu let out a tired sigh. "no. i was in the middle of a yawn when the ball hit me."

you nodded in understanding. "same here. i haven't slept well in a week. you wanna come to the observatory today?"

beomgyu hesitated, his mind racing. the observatory was a great spot to sleep, but he wasn't sure how to handle... well, you. you were so open and cheerful, the complete opposite of his introverted nature. on top of that, there was the added complication of your smile. it had a way of disarming him, making him feel things he wasn't quite ready to unpack. "well... i'm not sure," he admitted.

you stopped in your tracks, turning to face him with a serious expression. "i need you, beomgyu. because i can't sleep." 

the silence stretched, thick with unspoken urgency and beomgyu felt a strange mix of emotions. it was a feeling he wasn't used to. that strange fluttering in his chest? probably just the adrenaline of a near heart attack.

"alright," he said finally, nodding. "i'll come."

your face lit up with a grateful smile, and you continued skipping ahead, humming a cheerful tune. beomgyu followed behind, what did he get himself into?

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

beomgyu made his way to the observatory, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and exhaustion. as he climbed the twirly staircase, he was greeted by your head peeping at the top of the staircase.

"oh! you're here!" you called out, a bright smile lighting up your face.

beomgyu nodded, trying to muster a smile in return. "yeah, i'm here."

you made your way to one of the old cabinets in the corner of the room, patting its side with a determined look. "alright! down to business!"

beomgyu got the memo and dropped his bag on the floor, rolling up his sleeves. he walked over to the cabinet, glancing at you. "you want me to help move this?"

"yup," you said cheerfully. "we need to get it down the stairs and out of the way."

beomgyu sighed inwardly. 'damnit, she only asked me to come to help with the labor,' he thought, but he didn't voice his complaint. 'come on, beomgyu,' he scolded himself. 'heavy furniture, not heavy flirting.'

instead, he straightened his back and focused on the practicalities. ducking under the bulky cabinet, he grabbed a side, silently vowing to channel his nervous energy into pure muscle power. across from him, you mirrored his stance.

you grunted with effort, inching the heavy cabinet down the first step. "be careful of the stairs, okay?" you reminded beomgyu, whose back was straining under the weight on his end.

"yeah, yeah," he muttered, eyes narrowed in concentration as he walked backward down the steps. the old wood creaked ominously beneath their combined weight.

you struggled with the weight of the cabinet, both of you straining against the heavy wood. beomgyu felt his arms beginning to shake, the strain quickly becoming too much.

"wait, wait!!" he suddenly yelled, panic rising in his voice. "too heavy, put it down! down!"

"no! it's okay! we can make it!" you responded, your voice strained but determined.

"no, no!" beomgyu insisted, his voice breaking with urgency. "i seriously can't!"

despite your best efforts, the weight of the cabinet became unbearable. you both let go at the same time, the cabinet crashing down the stairs with a thunderous bang, echoing through the empty observatory. both of you stumbled back, breathing heavily and looking at each other with wide eyes.

"well," you said, trying to catch your breath. "that didn't go as planned."

beomgyu shook his head, letting out a half-hearted laugh. "yeah, no kidding."

you stood there for a moment, both of you panting and staring at the now slightly damaged cabinet lying at the bottom of the stairs. 

"i don't know why you wanted to clean up so much, all you're gonna do here is sleep," beomgyu remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

"but we have to make enough space for the both of us, no?" you replied with a teasing smile. "plus, if you manage to get some rest here from time to time, then you might spend less time being a grouch."

beomgyu let out a chuckle. "i guess so."

your expression softened as you looked at him. "say, beomgyu, how did you spend your long and boring nights?"

"i used to kill time by looking at stuff on my phone, but i quit after reading that led displays can mess with your sleep," beomgyu said, pausing for a moment. "so i started doing stuff like reading books and listening to the radio... but even when i got to bed, my mind would just wander for hours until morning eventually came."

suddenly, you perked up. "getting depressed about lack of sleep and worrying about a bunch of problems we can't solve..."

you pushed yourself to your feet, the gentle creak of the floorboards chipping. walking towards a seemingly innocuous lever near the observatory deck, you gestured for beomgyu to follow. "let’s make things fun" your voice tinged with enthusiasm. "whether we have a good time or a bad one, the morning sun's still gonna be the same,"

turning your back on him, you reached for the lever. with a satisfying whirring sound, the entire roof dome of the observatory groaned into motion, slowly peeling back to reveal a breathtaking vista. the sky, once tinged with the remnants of sunset, was now a breathtaking tapestry woven with a million stars. the vast expanse, sprinkled with celestial diamonds, stretched out before you, an invitation to lose yourself in its infinite depths.

you turned your back, looking up at the sky of twinkling hues. "let's revive the astronomy club."

beomgyu stared at you, the beauty of the sunset mirrored in his eyes. the sense of purpose and camaraderie he felt in that moment was something he hadn't experienced in a long time. he nodded slowly, a smile forming on his lips. "yeah, let's do it."

you beamed at him, your liveliness infectious. "great! we'll start by cleaning up this place and making it a proper clubroom again."

beomgyu sighed, glancing back at the cabinet. "but let's take a break before we move that thing again."

you laughed. "agreed. come on, let's take a seat and enjoy the view for a bit."

you sat down side by side, looking up at the sky through the open dome. the sense of peace and companionship you shared in that moment was a welcome respite from your usual sleepless nights.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

the city of yeosu had transformed into a canvas bathed in the cool hues of twilight. the once vibrant streets, normally teeming with daytime energy, had surrendered to a quiet languor. the only sounds that dared to pierce the stillness were the soft hum of distant traffic lights and the occasional rustle of a breeze whispering secrets through the trees. streetlights cast long, dramatic shadows, their gentle glow illuminating a city settling into a peaceful slumber. even the usual neon signs, usually vying for attention, seemed to have dimmed their vibrancy, creating a scene painted in shades of twilight blues and inky blacks.

high-rise buildings, once bastions of bustling activity, now stood as silent sentinels, their windows like scattered stars, each holding a story of its own. some windows remained dark, reflecting the serenity of the night, while others, adorned with a warm glow, hinted at pockets of life within. these illuminated windows paint a picture of solitude, each one a portal into a private world where dreams danced, or perhaps anxieties kept sleepless company.

you and beomgyu had agreed to meet on the bridge after the city curfew, but both of you were still wide awake and had nothing better to do. the bridge, a favorite local spot, offered a picturesque view of the canal flowing underneath and the moonlight reflecting off the water’s surface. as beomgyu approached the meeting point, he saw you already there, skipping along the bridge's edge, your movements carefree and light.

 a nervous chuckle escaped beomgyu's lips. "i can't believe we're actually doing this," he confessed, his voice a low rumble that barely carried over the gentle lapping of water against the bridge's pilings. a mix of excitement and apprehension warred within him, a knot of butterflies churning in his stomach.

"ohh?" you teased, turning to face him with a playful grin. "i had a nervous fit when i snuck out of my house, but i've always wanted to do this! just walking around town at night." you gestured towards the city sprawled out before you "just imagine," you continued, your voice hushed with a thrill, "the entire city practically to ourselves!"

as you admire the buildings, their outlines softened by the dim glow of the streetlights. "so! where do you wanna go? should we just follow the canal down the river?"

beomgyu shook his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips despite his nerves.  "no, it's safer to walk through the districts since it would give us more places to hide if someone spots us."

"good point," y/n agreed, and they started walking through the quiet districts of yeosu.

the night unfolded like a storybook, each page filled with unexpected delights. you were a whirlwind, your contagious energy propelling you forward with an almost reckless abandon. you’d dart ahead, your laughter echoing through the quiet streets, only to abruptly halt, your figure framed by a splash of moonlight, as you realized you’d outpaced your companion.

beomgyu would smile, shaking his head fondly as he caught up. the rhythmic tap of his shoes on the pavement provided a steady counterpoint to the city's hushed symphony. you navigated the labyrinth of alleyways and backstreets, your footsteps echoing softly, each reverberation of the sleeping city.

along your journey, you stumbled upon hidden gems: a quaint bookstore with its windows a mosaic of forgotten stories, a tiny park where a lone bench offered a serene respite from the urban hustle, and a charming café that seemed to defy the night's slumber with its inviting glow. it was in front of one such café that you found yourselves captivated. through the large glass windows, a tantalizing display of pastries beckoned, a masterpiece of sugary artistry. each treat was a miniature work of edible art, its perfect form and vibrant colors a testament to the baker's skill. your mouths watered as they imagined the taste of those flaky croissants and creamy éclairs.

at a vending machine, you decided to treat beomgyu to some drinks, a small gesture of thanks for his company on this impromptu adventure.

with coins slotted in, you selected two cans, the machine's gears whirring to life. a tense silence filled the air as you waited for the coveted drop. then, with a jarring clang, two aluminum cans tumbled down the chute, their impact echoing through the narrow space.

you both jumped, your hearts pounding in your chests. a wave of embarrassment washed over you, your eyes darting around to ensure no one had witnessed your clumsy moment. thankfully, the alley remained deserted, the only sound of your rapid breathing.

as you continued walking, you noticed beomgyu's bag. it hung awkwardly from his shoulder, its contents seemingly heavy. “hey, what’s in the bag? it looks full,” you asked, curiosity piqued.

"oh, my bag?" beomgyu replied. "it's just a camera with a tripod."

"a camera? why?" you asked, curious.

a sheepish grin spread across beomgyu’s face. “well, you know, just in case we get caught,” he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “we can say we’re part of the photography club or something. maybe they’ll let us off with a warning." beomgyu explained, taking the camera out of the bag.

"but wouldn't taking pictures at night makes us seem like some kind of creepers?" y/n teased, making beomgyu freeze up.

he hadn't thought of it that way. "oh, i didn't consider that..."

“so, is photography your hobby or something?” y/n asked, her curiosity reignited.

"no, it's just a present my dad randomly gave me for christmas," beomgyu said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "back when i was in 5th grade, i really wanted this one game console, so i cried and made a big deal out of it when he gave me this instead."

y/n giggled again, making beomgyu crack a smile. "what's so funny?" he asked.

"nothing, just... you crying over gifts is hilarious," y/n replied. 

beomgyu grinned. “hey, i was just a kid,” he defended himself playfully. “what about you? what were you like?”

a thoughtful expression crossed your face. “i was pretty frail as a kid,” you began, your voice soft. “spent a lot of time in the hospital. had to learn how to build up my stamina.” your tone was light, but the words carried a weight that surprised beomgyu.

"hospitalized?" beomgyu said, concern in his voice.

"mhm," y/n replied

just then, beomgyu stopped in his tracks, making y/n look back. a distant metallic click echoed in the night, followed by the rhythmic cadence of rubber against the pavement. heart pounding, beomgyu turned to see the source of the noise: a lone police officer, his bicycle casting a long, ominous shadow as he pedaled toward them.

quickly, beomgyu and y/n found shelter at a bus stop, ducking to avoid being spotted. the officer, as if sensing their presence, slowed his pace. the beam of his flashlight swept the area, its light growing brighter with each passing second. y/n's breath caught in her throat as the light drew closer, inching dangerously close to their hiding spot. beomgyu's grip on her hand tightened, his body shielding her as much as possible.

then, as suddenly as it had begun, the ordeal ended. the flashlight passed over their heads, its beam disappearing into the darkness. a sigh of relief escaped beomgyu's lips, his body relaxing slightly. y/n's grip on his shirt loosened, but she remained frozen in place, her mind racing. 

"he's gone," beomgyu whispered, his voice hoarse with relief. his eyes, wide with fear just moments ago, now held a flicker of resolve. "we have to move."

back on their way to the riverside, y/n picked up their previous conversation. "back to our conversation, i'm totally okay now!" she said with a grin. "i did gymnastics which made me super flexible, but since i was so frail as a kid, i was averse to being a burden. that's why i really don't want anyone to know about my lack of sleep."

beomgyu stared at her, admiration in his eyes as she looked over the river. when she lifted her gaze from the water to the stars, beomgyu followed her gaze.

"you know, maybe being sleepless isn't so bad if you get to see beautiful scenes like this," y/n said softly.

beomgyu nodded, wishing he could capture the moment forever. then he realized he could. he pulled out his camera from its bag. first, he focused his lens on the celestial canvas above. the camera captured the myriad of stars, each one a tiny diamond scattered across the velvet expanse. 

next, he turned his attention to the moon, its ethereal glow casting an enchanting spell over the world below. then, the river, a shimmering silver serpent winding its way through the night, became the subject of his lens.

as he took photos, his lens suddenly caught you in the frame. your silhouette is outlined by the soft moonlight. without thinking, he pressed the shutter, capturing you in a moment of grace. it was a candid shot, but when the camera clicked, you noticed and struck a pose, making beomgyu chuckle as he continued taking photos of you.

the night slowly gave way to dawn, and the first light of sunrise painted the sky in hues of gold and pink. you now sat on the edge of the bridge, your feet dangling over the side.

"morning is here," you chirped.

"that figures. now i'm sleepy," beomgyu replied, yawning. you both yawned in unison, then shared a giggle.

up until recently, you hadn't talked to each other at all. but now, here you were exploring the town at night together. when you were around, all the boring and sleepless nights became exciting and beomgyu couldn't help but wonder what kind of relationship this was becoming.

as the sun's shine glared on them, you skipped ahead and called out, "this is my house! thanks for walking me home."

beomgyu nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. instead of the usual goodbye, he offered a playful grin. "see you today," he said, his voice filled with a newfound lightness. you returned his smile, your eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something deeper.

you both laughed, knowing you had class in just a few hours. despite the lack of sleep, the night had brought them closer, and for the first time in a long time, they felt a sense of companionship that made their sleepless nights a little less lonely.

⋆˚࿔ taglist! @flowzel , @izzyy-stuff , @inkigayocamman , @beombeomlovesme , @missmoaforbeom , @lun4kazumii , @s0urcherry , @rianrishu, @blossommi ⤷ want to get notified? click here!

© 2024 seoulzie

[lettucing]

look of love, rush of blood | chapter one

words: ~4.3k | pairing: jschlatt x she/her, afab reader

summary: What starts as a reluctant outing with friends takes a turn when you accidentally spill a stranger's drink at the bar.

notes: FIRST CHAPTER IS HERE WOOOO!!!! hope u guys enjoy this (not so) lil intro while i get into the good stuff... >:]

⭑

"Y/N! COME ON, THE UBER IS HERE!" 

“Shit. Where the hell is it?” You think, frantically digging through your makeup bag for your favorite lipstick. You’re racing against the clock, determined to finish your look before your roommate decides to leave without you. “Sorry! I’m coming!” you call out, your voice tinged with urgency.

You sigh a breath of relief as you finally spot the lipstick, buried deep in the bag like it’s playing hide-and-seek.  You apply it as quickly yet precisely as you can, topping it with the matching lip gloss. You step back and give yourself one more look over in the vanity mirror, mostly satisfied with your outfit, and give your hair one last tussle for good measure. 

Just as you grab your bag and phone the door swings open, revealing your roommate Joelle, her expression a mix of excitement and mild panic. “Y/N, did you hear me? We’re late! The others are already waiting!” You barely have time to process her words before rushing out the door behind her. “Agh! I lost track of time!” you exclaim, locking the door to your apartment with a sense of urgency. “It’s fine! We just need to hurry before the bar gets too crowded,” Joelle replies, her smile reassuring you as you dash down the stairs, not having time to spare to wait for the elevator. 

When you reach the bottom floor, you glance through the glass front doors of your apartment complex to see your Uber driver waiting at the curb. “Oh, thank god he waited,” you mutter, relief washing over you. You and Joelle hop in the back seat, your thoughts wandering while your roommate makes small talk with the driver.

Going out wasn’t really what you had in mind for tonight. After a grueling week at work, you envisioned a peaceful Friday evening at home, possibly even treating yourself to your favorite takeout. You had already changed into comfy sweatpants and settled in with your laptop when Joelle got home, practically bouncing with excitement. She eagerly proposed a night out for drinks with your mutual friends, Sage and Alana, at a bar and lounge you’d never been to before. The thought of braving a crowded bar was the last thing you wanted. But as she continued to plead her case, you found yourself wavering. With a resigned sigh, you finally agreed, knowing deep down that it wouldn’t be so bad. There was something therapeutic about getting pretty for a fun night out with your friends- the couch will always be there when you get back.

When the car finally pulled up to the bar, the vibrant energy spilled out onto the sidewalk. Music pulsed faintly through the air, and the sounds of the bustling city enveloped you as you stepped out. Taking a deep breath, you followed Joelle inside. As you stepped into the trendy lounge, the warm glow of hanging lights illuminated the room, buzzing with activity; people chatting at the high-top tables and booths, others leaned against the bar, drinks in hand. A disco ball hung from the ceiling above the small dance floor at the back of the room where a few brave souls were already swaying to the rhythm of the music spilling from the speaker system.

Joelle turned to you. “I’m gonna get us some drinks. Sage and Alana are right over there.” She points you to a cozy corner where your friends were already gathered, their laughter standing out to you amongst the buzz of the room. As you approached, the couple's familiar faces filled you with warmth, easing the lingering reluctant nerves from earlier.

“Finally!” Sage called out, grinning. “We were starting to wonder if you guys were actually gonna show up.” You grinned, settling into the booth on the opposite side of your friends. “It took me a minute to get ready! I was already in my sweats when Joelle nearly started dragging me out of the apartment by my ankles.”

“Worth it, though, right?” she teased, raising her drink in a mock toast.

You chuckled, glancing around the bustling bar. The warm glow of the lights, combined with the upbeat music, started to lift your spirits. “I guess it’s not so bad.” 

Just then, Joelle slid into the booth beside you, her smile wide and infectious. “A vodka-cran for the lady!” she declared in a mock-old-timey British accent, placing a glass in front of you. “Why, thank you, dear!” you replied in the same accent, laughing before shifting back to your normal tone.  “I’ll get you back later?” Joelle just grinned. “Nah, consider that my thank you gift for changing out of those ratty-ass sweatpants.” You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. “Excuse me? Those ‘ratty-ass sweatpants’ are my favorite comfy pants! A beloved staple of my wardrobe!” “Staple? More like a fashion crime,” Alana shot back, laughing. “But hey, the outfit you swapped them for is adorable!” You roll your eyes with a grin and take another sip of your drink. “You guys suck.”

The four of you sat and talked for a long while after that, sharing stories, teasing one another, and catching up on all the latest happenings in your lives. Sage had plenty of horrifying encounters to recall from her job as a daycare instructor, while Alana shared the latest drama on who was hooking up with who at her office staff parties. Joelle insisted on a second round of drinks, and before long, you felt that familiar warm buzz starting to settle in.

As you finished your second drink, Joelle leaned forward over the table, a playful grin on her face. “Okay, not to change the subject, but that dance floor is getting full and I think we need to go dance.”

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Joelle's sudden enthusiasm. “Oh yeah?”

“Absolutely! Come on, dance with me!” Joelle said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. 

You took another sip of your drink, weighing the idea. The music pulsed through the bar, calling to you. “Alright, let’s do it!” you said, feeling a surge of spontaneity.

Joelle shot up from her seat, her confidence contagious to not just you but to Sage and Alana as well. The three of you followed Joelle’s lead, and as you made your way toward the dance floor, you felt a mix of nerves and exhilaration. 

With the music thumping around you, you stepped onto the dance floor, letting the rhythm guide your movements. Joelle began to sway, her energy infectious. You couldn’t help but smile as you joined in, letting the music wash over you. As you lost yourself in the rhythm, the energy of the dance floor enveloped you. Your friends’ shouts mixed with the beats, and you could feel the weight of the world slip away. The crowd moved in sync, bodies swaying and spinning. You jumped to the beat with your friends, singing carelessly. 

After god knows how many songs, you realized you needed two things: a moment to sit down and another drink. Your friends were still bouncing around, showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon. Leaning in toward the group, you raised your voice a bit over the music. “Hey, I’m heading to sit at the bar for a minute. Do you guys need anything?” Joelle flashed a wide smile, clearly a bit more buzzed than you. “We’re all good, babe!” With a playful wink, Joelle added, “There’s a really pretty guy I've got my eye on. Let us know if you need anything, okay?” You smiled back. “Of course, good luck! Love you!” you shouted as you turned toward the bar. “Love you more!” Sage called after you.

As you made your way across the lounge floor, you suddenly became aware of the slight sway in your step. You quickly settled onto the last empty barstool all the way at the very end of the bar, next to someone you didn’t pay much mind to.

As you sat for a moment waiting for the bartender, you turned in your stool to glance back at your friends. Sage and Alana were dancing together right in the middle of the dance floor, while Joelle had already moved off to the side, chatting with a tall brunette guy wearing glasses and a couple of chunky rings. They seemed to be hitting it off, and you couldn’t help but smile at your friend’s confidence. Damn, you thought. You’d be lying if you said your roommate had bad taste in men. 

As you turned around, your hand collided with the bartender’s just as she was setting a drink down next to you, causing her to drop the glass and spill its contents across the bar- and into the lap of the man sitting next to you.. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, quickly facing her. She waved her hand dismissively. “No worries at all.” She looked at the man sitting next to you. “I’ll grab you some paper towels and make you another one. Just give me a sec.”

You put your head in your hand, a wave of embarrassment washing over you as she handed the man a roll of paper towels. You sighed to yourself, figuring you should apologize to the stranger next to you for being an idiot. As you shifted on your stool to face him completely, your breath caught in your throat.

Shit.

He glanced back at you, thick eyebrows arching over warm brown eyes framed by long lashes. Messy brown curls peeked out from under a Yankees baseball cap, and he sported well-groomed mutton chops and a mustache. The intensity of his gaze combined with his broad shoulders gave off an intimidating presence that made you feel another wave of shame for spilling his drink- but damn, was he handsome.

“I’m so sorry about that. I was watching my friends, plus I’m a little buzzed— I just wasn’t thinking straight.” you stammer as he palms his thighs with the paper towels, feeling your nerves kick in. The man smiled slightly, placing the used paper towels down on the bar as he finished wiping off.  “Don’t sweat it, ’s just a drink. I’ve had worse nights in bars.”

You mentally thank whatever higher power is watching over you for letting you spill a drink on someone easygoing instead of a hotheaded jerk. “I still feel bad." You smile nervously. You pause, a silence hanging heavy over the two of you. You glance at him, and the two of you lock eyes.

You can't tell if it's the liquor, the eye contact, or both- but something in you pushes to make small talk.

Shifting your weight in your seat, you raise an eyebrow. "Well, okay, how much worse of a night are we talking here?” He chuckled reluctantly, as if he were unsure about sharing the story. “Well, there was this one time I saw a girl getting hit on by some creep, she looked really uncomfortable. After a few drinks, I guess I tend to get a little bold, so I decided to tell him to back off.” He paused, shifting his weight leaning on the bar. “Turns out, he was her boyfriend.” You winced. “Oof…” “Yeah.” He nodded, laughing a bit. “He almost kicked my ass. I finished my drink and got the fuck outta there.” You smiled, thinking about how he went out of his way to make sure a girl he didn’t even know wasn’t in danger. “At least you tried to help her,” you said. “That counts for something, right?” He shrugged, a hint of humility in his smile. “I guess so. But it’s funny how quickly things can turn, y’know? One minute you think you're doin’ the right thing, and the next, you're just trying to dodge a punch. Literally or metaphorically.” You nod with a smile. “Yeah, I get that completely.” He nodded back, and the conversation faded for a moment. 

You glanced at him. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

He returned your gaze, a slight smile appearing on his face again. “Schlatt.” 

As if on cue, the bartender brought over his replacement drink, and you reached into your pocket for some cash. “Here, let me pay for that.” you offered, and he waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, it’s okay. I already have quite the tab running with my buddies.” Before you can protest, he holds up a finger and grabs the glass, taking a sip of what was presumably whiskey. You watch his expression as he drinks, noting how his nose scrunched slightly as he downed the liquor. He places the glass back on the counter with a soft clink. “Agh, that’s some good shit.” he sighs, lifting his hat to run a hand through his curls before placing it back on. Your cheeks warm- you blame it on the alcohol.

 “Can I buy you a drink?” Schlatt asked after taking another sip, and you laugh, shaking the heated feeling from your face. “Do you always buy a drink for someone when they spill liquor in your lap?” He shrugged with a smile, a playful glint in his eyes. “Only the ones who make a memorable first impression. You shoulda' seen your face when it spilled, you looked like you had just shot me or somethin'. It was fuckin’ hilarious.” You rolled your eyes, laughing along. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly aiming for comedy tonight. But I guess I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Hey, every night out on the town needs a lil’ bit of chaos,” he said, leaning his forearms against the bar again. “Makes for better stories later.” You grinned. “Yeah, you got me there.”

Schlatt tilted his head, gesturing towards the bar. “So, what’ll it be?” You laughed. “You really wanna buy me that drink, huh?” He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I mean if you’re passin’ up on a free drink, be my guest.” You smirked, weighing your options. “Alright, alright. When you put it like that...” You pick up the cocktail menu, and Schlatt scoffs. “Oh, you’re one of those.” You cocked an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Nothing!” He grinned. “I just didn’t think you were the type to go for a thirty-dollar, ninety-percent-ice, hangover-waiting-to-happen kinda’ drink.” You narrow your eyes playfully. “Yeah, well,” You signal over the bartender. “Fine, asshole. We just met, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.” You feel Schlatt’s gaze linger on you as you order yourself an Old Fashioned, his look long and heavy. “I guess so.” He grins, and orders himself another whiskey.

⭑

“So, what do you do when you’re not out like this?” you ask, genuinely curious. He makes an indifferent face. “Honestly, not much. I work a lot, and when I’m not working, I don’t really go out unless I have a reason.” You nod. “What’s your reason tonight?” 

Before he could continue, a loud voice booms from behind the two of you.

“SCHLATT! THERE YOU ARE, YA BASTARD!” Schlatt gives you a look, as if to say “there’s my reason”. 

A tall man walks up and drapes an arm around Schlatt’s shoulders, clearly tipsy- then you recognize him.  The guy Joelle was talking to. 

Oh shit. Is he one of Schlatt’s friends?

“Get ‘offa me, dude.” Schlatt groans, his whole demeanor changing as he unravels the man’s arm from his shoulders. “What?” He questions. The other man laughs. “Nothin’ man. We were just wonderin’ where you were. We haven’t seen you in a while.” Schlatt rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause I don’t wanna be seen with you three making yourself look stupid on that dance floor.” The man chuckles, unfazed. “C’mon, you know you love it. We’ve got the moves!” He gestures dramatically, demonstrating some ridiculous dance move. “And, for the record, there’s a beautiful lady over there that’s been chattin’ me up for a while.”

“Yeah, okay. You’re drunk, Ted. ‘Ya sure that beautiful lady isn’t just Tucker?” Schlatt retorts, crossing his arms. 

You can’t help but laugh at their banter, knowing he was talking about Joelle. 

The tall guy, who you’ve come to learn is named Ted, turns to you, an amused expression on his face. “Oh, i see what’s goin’ on here.” Schlatt rolls his eyes again, somehow harder than the last time. “Dude, can you not?” Ted raises his hands in mock surrender (the same way Schlatt had earlier- the two seemed to share a handful of mannerisms), a grin spreading across his face. “Just making an observation! Looks like you’ve found yourself a partner in crime.”

“More like an accomplice to my embarrassment,” Schlatt mutters, shaking his head. You chuckle, still enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “I dunno, this is kinda funny.” “See? She gets it!” Ted interjects, grinning at you. “I’m Ted.” He extends his hand, and you shake it loosely. “Y/N,” you reply with a smile.

“Nice to meet you.” Ted continues as you break the handshake. “Anyways, Schlatt. C’mon man. You gotta come out there with us.” “Pass,” Schlatt says, shaking his head. “I’m good right here.”

“Suit yourself! You’ll regret it!” Ted shrugs, stepping back- he glances at you, then back at Schlatt.

“Regret? Not in this lifetime,” Schlatt takes a long sip of his whiskey. “Wrap it up. I wanna go to bed.” Ted rolls his eyes. “Alright Captain Buzzkill.” He claps Schlatt on the back. “Give us 10 minutes.” He turns to you “Nice to meet you, uh…” You smile. “Y/N.” “Right. Y/N. Sorry. Had a few drinks.” Ted returns your smile and heads back to join the crowd on the dancefloor, leaving you and Schlatt at the bar once again.

You shoot Schlatt a look, as if to say “Well that was something.”  

“Welcome to my life,” he sighs, rolling his eyes playfully. “Always a spectacle.”

 “Looks like you’ve got quite the crew,” you say, taking a sip of your drink.

“Tell me about it.” Schlatt shakes his head with a slight smile. “They’re here visiting. They’re a bit much sometimes, But they’re my guys.” The two of you turn and watch Ted blend back into the swaying mass of bodies, reconvening with Joelle and who you presumed to be another one of Schlatt's friends.

“Wanna know something funny?” you ask. Schlatt hums, intrigued. “That girl your friend has been talking to? She’s my roommate.” Schlatt laughs. “No fuckin’ shot.” You nod. “Yup. Her name’s Joelle. Sweetest girl on the planet.” He shakes his head. “What a coincidence, eh?” You stare into your drink. “Yeah, crazy.”

The two of you chat for a bit longer and you discover that Schlatt makes a living through YouTube and streaming, which you think is incredibly cool. He mentions that a bunch of other content creators are currently in New York for a Twitch event, hence the reason Ted and Charlie were staying at his apartment. After asking him a million-and-a-half questions about it, you share that you’re a journalist, writing articles for local NYC art magazines. He asks you questions too, and you can’t quite tell if he’s genuinely interested or just really good at faking it, but either way, you feel heard. The conversation flows effortlessly, jumping from topic to topic like you’d known each other for years. It was comforting, in a way.

Ted reappears as you’re laughing at something Schlatt said, this time with two others behind him- the rest of Schlatt’s friends. Ted places a ringed hand on Schlatt’s shoulder. “Not tryin’ to break this up, just letting you know- we’re ready to go when you are.” Schlatt nods and downs the last of his whiskey, that familiar slight scrunch of his nose making an appearance again. You might’ve called it adorable if you hadn’t just met him. 

He settles his tab and stands from his barstool with a sigh, looking at you. You smile. “It was nice meeting you. Thanks for the drink.” He returns your smile tiredly, as if the liquor had just hit him all at once. “Yeah, you too. No problem.” Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Ted’s eyes widen as he elbows one of his friends— maybe Tucker?— in the side.

“I’ll, uh… i'll see you around,” Schlatt says, nodding before heading off. You give him a slight wave, then wave at Ted as well.

 As they’re walking away, you hear Schlatt mutter- “Finally ready to part with your sweet Joelle?” Ted shot him a look of pure confusion. “What the fuck? how do you know her name?” You laugh, still amused by their ridiculous interactions. Before long, the four of them are out the door.

You sit at the bar for a moment longer, finishing your drink. You decide to get up to find Joelle, along with Sage and Alana. You spot them standing near the booth the four of you shared at the beginning of the night. As you approach them, Joelle’s eyes light up. “Hey pretty lady! Havin’ a good night?” You smile. “Yeah, starting to get tired though. You guys ready to go?” Sage nods. “Yeah, i’m ready to call it a night. Maybe we can grab some food before we go home?” Alana chimes in. “Yummmm, A late-night snack sounds perfect right now.” 

The four of you gather your things and split the tab from your drinks earlier. As you all head toward the exit, you can’t help but glance back at the bar, thinking about the guys you met earlier. You wondered if you might run into Schlatt and his friends again- the night still felt full of possibilities.

You and your friends discover a cozy little gelato shop a short walk down the road, where you all sit together and enjoy your treats. Eventually, it was time to call it a night, and you exchanged tipsy hugs and cheek kisses before you all ordered your Ubers, you and Joelle heading back to your apartment while Sage and Alana made their way to theirs. 

⭑

As you unlocked the door to your apartment, Joelle walked in and flopped onto the couch with a satisfied sigh- she was definitely a bit closer to drunk than you were. You smiled and sat down next to her legs. “Was tonight everything you wanted it to be?” She turned to face you, excitement sparkling in her eyes. “Hell yeah! I had such a blast! And did you see that guy I was talking to?! Oh my god.” You chuckled, recalling the conversation you had with Ted and Schlatt. “Oh, I definitely saw him.” Joelle giggled. “His name is Ted. He’s from Los Angeles, can you believe it? AND I got his number. Maybe if things work out I'll convince him to stay here.” You laughed, astonished at her already growing attachment to this stranger from the bar. “Maybe.” Joelle sat up, leaning her arm on your shoulder. “Hey, wait a second! Don’t act like you weren’t chatting someone up too! I saw you and Mr. tall-dark-and-broody at the bar.” 

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a grin. “Mr. tall-dark-and-broody? That’s quite the title.” Joelle nudged you playfully. “Come on! You know you were vibing with him. What was his name?” 

You could feel Joelle’s gaze probing, urging you to say more about the guy you’d spent nearly two hours chatting with. Eventually, she cracked you, and a smile crept across your face. “Okay, fine. His name was Schlatt, and maybe he was really, really attractive. But I wasn’t talking to him, we were just… having a conversation, y’know?”

Joelle raised her eyebrows. “Schlatt? I think Ted said that was the name of his friend that he’s staying with.” You avoided eye contact, not sure what to say.

After a moment of silence, Joelle gasped. “Oh! Oh my god! He’s-, they’re-,” she grabs your shoulders. “Your guy is friends with my guy!” “He’s not my guy!” You interject, and Joelle waves her hand. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Anyway, ‘just having a conversation’, huh? You sure you weren’t flirting a little?” You roll your eyes. “No! I wasn’t! It all started in the first place because I wasn’t paying attention and knocked his whiskey into his lap.” 

“Oooh, a whiskey guy. That’s hot.” Joelle giggled. “Okay, you’re definitely drunk and totally missing the point.” you said, laughing as you slung your arm around her shoulders. “That doesn’t matter! I don’t need to be sober to tell you that you should text him back the moment he reaches out. I could feel the chemistry from the dance floor.”

Suddenly, a realization hit you.

 “Shit. He’s not going to text me. I didn’t give him my number.”

“WHAT?!”

⭑

After Joelle started to crash, you helped her change into pajamas and remove her makeup, and once she crawled into bed, you did the same for yourself. As you stared in the mirror at your bare face, your thoughts drifted back to Schlatt. You kicked yourself mentally for not offering him your number, but you told yourself it was fine. If fate wanted it to happen, it would. Sometimes, you meet a beautiful stranger and never see them again—that's just how life goes.

Then you remembered that your best friend and his best friend had really hit it off. Even though you didn’t give him your number tonight, it was bound to come up eventually if Joelle and Ted stuck it out. You started spiraling, envisioning yourself ten years down the line at Joelle and Ted’s wedding—locking eyes with Schlatt across the dance floor, remembering that one conversation the two of you shared ten years ago at some random bar before you left New York City and fell off the grid, and-

You stopped yourself. What the hell was that? You sigh and glance at yourself in the mirror again, thinking, “I’m still tipsy, and I really need to go to bed.” 

As you settle beneath your covers and close your eyes, you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand—an unusual vibration pattern that signals it’s Joelle. “I thought she was asleep?” you wonder. But as you read her message, your heart skips a beat.

jelly<3: texting ted jelly<3: he said he had a lot of fun tonight jelly<3: and schlatt did too ;) jelly<3: bet ur glad u came out with us!!!!!!!!!! i love u

Your heart flutters thinking about Schlatt again. Unable to think of a better response, you quickly type one out and toss your phone back on the nightstand, switching it to Do Not Disturb mode this time.

you: go to bed!!!!!

You drift off to sleep, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

Shit.

⭑ next chapter →

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Woooo chapter 3 finally

Probably going to at least start the next chapter tonight because I’m so looking forward to writing Mihawk again. He is in this chapter as I promised, but...we do not wake him from his nap. We know better.

But Bogard and Garp have been so much fun honestly. Especially Garp giving Luffy vibes because the brainless dumbassery for sure runs in the family.

Not sure if that applies to Dragon but…look it’d be hilarious if it did—

Anyway, chapter threeeeeeeee

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader

Ch. 3 of like four or something maybe six at most idk, I have a clear ending in sight but I’m not sure how long it’ll take to get there

Brief summary of The Story So Far: So Garp, in his infinite wisdom, had this brilliant idea about how the Marines could use reader's devil fruit ability (zoan type, gray parrot) to spy on this particularly dangerous and elusive pirate up close, and now reader is stuck scoping out Kuraigana Island to see if there are any signs of him there. Bogard may have a coronary before this nonsense is said and done.

First Chapter link, Next Chapter link

SFW for now, but not in later chapters

Possible trigger warning for blood. Possible future trigger warnings for imprisonment, mild torture (definitely psychological, maybe physical)

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later

Word Count: 3,057

Haven't really proofread this much but I will in a minute I promise

No tag list yet, I do not expect one but if you're interested in seeing where this bullshit goes just lemme know

♫♬I’m Gonna Be Your Elvis — The Fratellis♬♫

I could not pretend that I was even half amused

When all they ever told me left me shaken and confused

It would have been a beautiful night for a flight, if not for the destination ahead of you.

Kuraigana Island loomed closer as your wings cut through the soft breeze in your transformed state, and catching the wind would ensure that you could simply glide most of the way there without expending too much energy. The chilly night air barely cut through your thick coat of gray feathers, and your dull coloration and the dim light of the crescent moon gave you some reassurance that you would be able to see any potential threat before it could notice you.

Something near the shore by the forest caught your eye, and you swooped in a bit closer to be positive of what you were looking at—and your stomach did a backflip as you confirmed it.

A small vessel was moored there, a boat in the shape of a coffin.

That was confirmation enough that he was here. Part of you considered circling back around the battleship cutting silently through the water a mile or so behind you and reporting this alone to Garp.

But…no. You had been told to fly over, to see what you could from a high enough elevation to avoid detection, and you intended to do just that. This was your first real chance to show your value as a Marine. You couldn’t blow it by turning tail and running the moment you felt the slightest pang of fear. Hardening your resolve, you regained your elevation with a few flaps of your wings, circling the island until you were at a height where you felt safe.

As safe as you could, at least.

The forest was quiet enough—there were no signs of the population of primates Garp had mentioned to you, perhaps all asleep for the evening. Save for the sound of nocturnal birds and insects cutting through the night air, nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the dense forest, or the narrow path that cut through it from the shore. You flew a bit lower, squinting down across the path.

His boat was there. You knew he had to be there somewhere. He never worked with anyone else, so chances were slim to none that he could possibly be anywhere else.

The clearing around the castle was half overgrown itself, littered with ruins and evidence of battles long since ended beneath a thin veil of fog, but the castle itself seemed mostly intact from your vantage point.

Intact, with a dim orange glow glimmering from one of the windows that made you briefly halt in midair, flapping your wings lightly to keep yourself aloft. Fire light. It had to be, there was no other explanation, perhaps the dim glow of a candle or a lantern. There was someone there, someone in a high room of the tower straight ahead of you. That would be enough for you to go back with, more than enough information to all but confirm the reports.

But…if you could get just a little closer, if you could confirm it with your own eyes…

This was a bad idea. It had to be a bad idea. Garp had told you to keep your distance, but you were already swooping down, stopping just beside the window and gripping your talons against the grooves between the stones that comprised the solid wall.

Folding your wings back behind you, slowly and quietly creeping closer to the window.

Closer, just a bit closer, craning your neck the slightest bit to the side to glimpse inside…

The light, as you had thought, came from an oil lantern situated on a small end table, illuminating what appeared to be a sizable den. Most of the visible surfaces in the room were covered with a fine coating of dust that glinted eerily in the flickering glow, from the bookshelves lining one wall to the adjacent hearth. It was quiet at the moment, still, but there was one sign of life that made your heart skip a beat and your breath catch.

Leaning alongside the hearth, unmarred by a single speck of dust, stood a massive sword with a jet-black blade and hilt in the shape of a cross, a glimmering blue gem set into the base of the hilt that seemed to glow in the firelight. Holding your breath as you stared at the weapon, unable to take your eyes off of it, you realized that the room wasn’t quite as silent as you had thought.

The faint whisper of slow, even breathing met your ears.

He was there. He was really there. You considered the likelihood that you were the first Marine to ever get this close without being killed within seconds, considered the idea of taking off back for your ship right that instant.

And then you slowly shifted a little closer to the window, looking around the edge of the windowsill to the other side of the room.

You barely stopped yourself from letting out a gasp.

Reclined back in an old armchair, a book open across his lap, his boots propped up on the table in front of him, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted down slightly—it was him. There was no question about it. Even with the small difference from his most recent bounty poster of the angular moustache and goatee, there was no question. You were barely ten feet away from the Marine Killer himself, Dracule Mihawk.

And he was fast asleep.

His chest rose and fell slowly with his deep, even breaths, his eyes closed. His plumed hat sat to the side on an end table, his signature trench coat draped across the back of his chair. You had done it—more than simply scouting for activity, more getting the lay of the land, you had found the man himself.

You jolted in alarm when he shifted in his sleep, quickly pulling your head out of the window, your heart racing.

That, you decided, was more than enough for you to report back. You shifted a careful distance across the wall of the tower, taking care to ensure that your talons didn’t so much as scratch against the stone surface, and took flight back toward the shore, toward the battleship barely visible against the dark water and midnight sky. Gliding just above the treetops, buzzing with adrenaline, you were already swelling with pride. You, a cadet that had spent weeks being taunted and treated like a joke, had managed to use the very ability that had made you a laughingstock to do what no other Marine had yet managed.

For the first time, you had more than just a glimmer of hope that this plan, however ridiculous it sounded on the surface, could actually work.

And then something whizzed past your left wing.

You faltered in your flight, looking around as you flapped your wings a few times to regain your equilibrium. Whatever it was had passed by so fast that you had registered no more than the whistle of wind around it. Maybe a smaller bird or a large bug—

And then it happened again.

And again.

And, as you realized that the objects were coming from below you and looked down, you let out an audible gasp that left you like a strangled squawk.

You were too close to the trees, you realized disjointedly, as you took in the sight of several enormous, ape-like creatures below you. You were also the only bird in the air, which you guessed had a great deal to with the fact that these particular apes were wearing what appeared to be some sort of armor and wielding very human weapons. Swords, spears, axes, and—to your stunned realization—bows.

Another arrow zipped past your right wing, close enough to brush across your feathers.

What the hell what the hell what the hell—

Soaring higher into the air did you little good. The beasts had already spotted you and were following your flight path with ease, still firing arrows, throwing spears (though these, thankfully, didn’t manage to come nearly high enough to pose any threat). You were more than halfway across the expanse of the forest, you could make it, you knew you could.

Nearly to the end of it, dipping higher and lower, zig-zagging through the air to throw off the aim of the strange primates.

Right there, right at the edge of the trees, when a searing pain tore through your right wing, causing you to screech out a swear, glancing down to watch the offending arrow fall and land on the shore below you.

You didn’t even dare glance toward your wing to see how bad the injury was. As long as you didn’t look, it might have only been a scratch. It might have just been a light graze. You tried to ignore how unsteady your flying was, to ignore the fact that you were slowly losing elevation and seemed unable to regain it, that you were swerving to the left no matter how hard you tried not to.

You did focus on the fact that if you fell now, you wouldn’t ever make it back. You’d fall into the nearly black waves below you and sink down into the ocean like a sack of stones, and that would be the end.

Your ship drew closer and closer, growing larger and larger in your line of sight, and you focused on that.

Until you were close enough to glide awkwardly onto the quarterdeck, where Garp and Bogard seemed to be arguing quietly in front of the doors of the Vice Admiral’s cabin, and skid past them across the floorboards, hitting the railing on the starboard side.

Whatever argument your superior officers had been engaged in ceased the moment you transformed, pulling yourself up to sit against the railing, already half-shouting at the older man, “You could have told me they knew how to use weapons!”

You didn’t like the way they stared at you for a long moment, both of their gazes flickering to your right arm, no more than you liked how limp the appendage felt at your side as you gripped at the railing with your left hand.

Garp mumbled something to Bogard, who gave a short nod before disappearing into the cabin.

Garp tilted his head the slightest bit to the side, lifting his eyebrows as he slowly approached you. “That—exactly who knows how to use weapons?” he asked slowly.

“The goddamned apes, that’s who,” you said through your teeth, briefly forgetting every ounce of formality that your time as a Marine had instilled in you. “They had swords! And bows! And armor and spears and—”

“The ap—never mind that for now,” he said slowly, holding up a hand. “You need to calm down, cadet. And we need to get you patched up.”

“Patched up—I could have been killed!”

You still hadn’t looked at your arm. The adrenaline still coursing through your veins made the sharp, throbbing pain seem like an afterthought, like a distant reality as you pulled yourself to your feet. “By a bunch of damned monkeys that evidently—”

“Enough.” You jumped at the harsh command, straightening yourself out completely and snapping to attention in an instant. Your eyes briefly darted to the cabin doors as Bogard emerged, unwinding a belt as he strode over quickly, tossing a quick glare at Garp before lifting your arm and wrapping it around a couple inches below your shoulder. “We can discuss it in a few minutes. We need to get you down to the sick bay first.”

You still didn’t look down, shaking your head at Garp as you stared at him in alarm.

“It was just a scratch, I’m fine—ow—” you added as Bogard abruptly tightened the belt around your arm, glancing over.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the large, deep gash extending nearly from your right elbow to your shoulder.

At the blood steadily spurting out from what was no doubt a pretty important vein or artery.

“O…oh,” was all you could force out, your eyes lowering to the puddle of blood at your feet, the adrenaline rush fading in nearly an instant, leaving you more than a little light-headed. “That’s…”

The makeshift tourniquet around your arm did gradually slow the bleeding by the time you sat down at the edge of one of the cots in the infirmary, but you were still woozy from the blood loss, still lightheaded from everything you had witnessed during your flyover of Kuraigana Island, only catching the vaguest gist of Garp and Bogard’s continued bickering.

“And you didn’t think to inform me of this hare-brained mission beforehand?” Bogard was saying, and while his face was shadowed by the brim of his hat you were sure his expression matched his sour tone.

“It was just recon,” said Garp, sitting at the edge of a cot a few feet away, striking a match and holding it to the end of a cigar clamped between his teeth. “In and out, ten minutes. Didn’t seem like a big deal.”

“And yet here we are,” he said through his teeth, not bothering to glance up at your flinching as he cleaned the gash with an alcohol drenched cloth.

“How the hell was I supposed to know a bunch of goddamned apes would know how to use weapons?” he said, slouching over against the wall. “Wonder if the psychopath trained them…”

“Seeing as we know next to nothing about him aside from the fact that he seems to derive joy from committing mass murder, I don’t suppose anyone knows,” said Bogard, tossing a sidelong glare at the vice admiral, who gave a noncommittal shrug. Bogard tossed the cloth aside with an irritated growl and shoved a clean one into your hands. “Put pressure on that.”

“Yessir,” you said automatically, wincing as you pushed the rag against the wound.

“With all due respect, Garp, this entire farce was your idea,” said Borgard, straightening out from where he had been kneeling next to your cot to cross the room and begin rifling through drawers and cabinets. “I’m sure you can imagine what we’d have to deal with were we to return to headquarters and have to inform Sengoku that our operative was killed en route by a bow-wielding monkey.”

“Eh…” Garp shrugged a shoulder, his own expression souring at the thought. “But hell, at least we know why no one’s made it out of the place now. So we did get some information.”

“And suppose the target had been there?”

“He was.”

Both men froze when you spoke up—Garp halfway through pulling his cigar from his mouth to flick the ashes from the end, Bogard with a drawer halfway shut, both of them slowly turning their heads to look toward you.

“You should probably tell someone at headquarters to update his bounty poster,” you added, tapping at your chin. “He, ah, has a goatee now.”

Both men continued to regard you in stunned silence for several long, tense seconds, glancing at each other as your words slowly sunk in.

Garp’s face split into a grin, and his hearty laughter a moment later completely drowned out his partner’s weary sigh. Bogard slowly closed the drawer, turning around to lean back against the counter behind him, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“Were you not instructed to keep your distance?” he said loudly, glowering over at Garp as the older man threw his head back in laughter. You sat up a bit straighter when Bogard turned his glare on you, crossing his arms, frowning at you with the same measure of exasperation. “Had you been seen—”

“I was careful,” you said quickly. “I noticed a light in one of the castle windows. Most of the place is in ruins but the castle is still standing. I only peeked through the corner of the window, he was asleep.”

You decided as his frowned deepened that it was best not to mention how long you had lingered in the windowsill.

“Sounds to me like the kid passed her test with flying colors,” said Garp, still chuckling to himself. He gave you a nod of approval, pointing toward you with the smoldering end of his cigar. “Good work, cadet.”

“It sounds,” said Bogard, pulling the drawer next to him open sharply, “as if our cadet was taking wholly unnecessary risks for the sake of an unnecessarily dangerous and unauthorized ‘test’ of her abilities.” Garp rolled his eyes at the indirect scolding, leaning against the wall of the infirmary again. “Needless to say,” he went on, fishing through the drawer and retrieving a suture kit before shoving it closed, “the next time any of your commanding officers sees fit to pose you with such a mission again…”

He grabbed a clipboard off of the counter, flipped over an empty medical report to its blank side, and tossed it onto the cot next to Garp, before heading back over to sit at the cot across from yours. You watched as he retrieved a large, curved needle and set to threading it, tossing a sharp look at you.

“…you are both advised and encouraged to run it by me first. Understood?” You nodded quickly as he pulled the cloth out of your hands and away from the expansive gash across your arm. “Good. Then you’ll relay what you witnessed during your reconnaissance, and our esteemed vice admiral will take down the report—”

“Why the hell do I have to—”

“Because you’re terrible at applying stitches,” Bogard snapped before Garp could finish his protest. The older man rolled his eyes, snatching up the clipboard and digging a pen out of his pocket. Bogard leaned over with the threaded needle in his hand and added, “This is going to hurt.”

“Probably not much more than nearly having my wing shot off,” you reasoned.

Garp snorted.

Bogard sighed, muttering something under his breath about being surrounded by idiots, before grabbing your wrist and pulling your arm straight, not bothering to give you any warning before jabbing the needle through your skin.

“Just stay still,” he said over the sharp hiss of air your drew in through your teeth at the pain, “and relay your report, cadet."

Next chapter link again, for your convenience

First Chapter Link again, for your convenience

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐇𝐈, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 8k

chapter summary: Joel takes you on your first date. A barbecue meant to be fun becomes a minefield of unpleasant memories for Tommy.

warnings: mutual masturbation, piv, dirty talking, light spit play, PTSD, war flashbacks, angst towards the end

a/n: yup, you're seeing correct, I uploaded a day early!! woooo

Chapter Ten || Chapter Twelve

When Joel mentioned taking you out for a date, you couldn't help but imagine something simple and unassuming, just like him. You envisioned a quaint, unpretentious restaurant where you could share intimate conversation, followed by a leisurely stroll back home. You knew Joel wasn't exactly an innovative man; however, his wood carving skills, took you by surprise when he showed you some of his artwork, it made your heart grow fonder for him. As much as he poked fun at himself for not understanding art, or knowing much of it, he was an artist. 

In the end, you weren't expecting anything extravagant, and you had no complaints about it. That was a part of his Texan charm. It was who he was, and you loved him for it.

What you didn't expect was to take a thirty to forty-minute drive to South Congress.

“You didn't have to go through all this trouble,” you say as Joel opens the truck door for you. Smiling, he rolls his eye. He offers you his hand, and with a skip in your heart, you accept it, feeling the heat of his palm. Joel steadies you as you hop down from the vehicle. Sarah was at another sleepover, carefully orchestrated by Joel, making it the perfect time for him to take you on the first date he mentioned a couple of days ago.

“It’s no trouble,” he answers, moving his jaw. “But if you keep sayin’ that I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re not a fan of the idea.” 

“Oh, I’m definitely a fan. No need to worry your pretty head about that.” 

Before taking the first step, he holds your arm and tugs you back toward him. Your eyes widen when he throws your jacket over your shoulders, “‘Might get cold,” he murmurs, fingers skimming down your bare arms. Then he sighs. “I love it when you call me pretty. Makes me all tingly inside.” 

“Well then,” you smile, leaning closer. “Let me say it again, you’re pretty. Prettiest man I know.” 

Joel's lips curl into a wide grin, his humming filling the air. “I’m blushin’,” he teases, capturing your lips in a swift, lingering kiss, lacing his fingers with yours. “I knew this would be a good idea,” he mutters against your lips in a self-congratulatory tone. His taste lingers on your mouth, leaving you craving more. 

“I don’t want to burst your bubble but I’m still not sure what we’re doing here. You never told me.” 

Hand in hand, you and Joel set off, walking down the street at a leisurely pace. The sun, beginning its descent from the vast expanse of blue skies, painted the world in a soft, golden hue. 

“We’re here to look at the murals,” he explains. “Thought you might like it, bein’ an artist and all. And if we get hungry there’s this Tex-Mex place I like to go to, I take Sarah there all the time.” 

He's nonchalant about it, yet he still averts his eyes. A soft crimson flares under his shirt, creeping up his neck and tinting his cheeks. Your heart beats quickly. You may now be a part of his life, but Sarah will always hold a tender place in his heart. Something he hesitates to share, like a tiny box of secrets. She's his everything. You wonder how many times he had to keep that part of himself hidden, how many times he mentioned his daughter and saw the hesitation in the other party's eyes. It's no one's fault, really. It's a complicated situation no matter which side you consider. And you're fairly certain he's never mentioned his romantic endeavors to Sarah. Why would he? To him, none of it ever led anywhere, so there was no sense in telling her about it.

You don't want him to be nervous about sharing more about that part of his life. You have adored Sarah ever since you met her. Now, you're somewhat grateful that it took the two of you longer than normal to get here. It gave you a chance to show him that no matter the state of your relationship, you'll be there for Sarah, for Tommy, and for everyone he cares about.

Because you care about them too. 

“You visit here a lot?” 

He tips his chin, “We used to,” he answers and offers you his arm, you thread the gap between torso and tricep. “When she was five we came here a lot. Really liked it.” 

A half chuckle, half exhale leaves his lips. You give him a sympathetic look. “Well, maybe we can come here together one day. Tommy too. We can make a day of it, I bet she misses it.” 

"Yeah," his eyes glaze over for a second, looking ahead towards the sun-kissed street. You softly dig your nails into his arm, snapping him out of it. He blinks and tenses under your touch. "Yeah, we definitely should. Maybe during spring break or somethin’."

You squeeze his arm again, and when he turns to look at you, you smile. He returns it in kind, and you feel his smile leave an imprint on your skin as his lips touch your forehead.

“Can’t wait to show you all of it, sweet tea.” 

And he does. 

Joel shows you everything that he loves. The streets of Austin come alive with vibrant murals, each one captivating in its own way—some simple, some complicated. You see the South Congress Mural on South Congress Avenue that stands tall, its graffiti letters painted in vibrant colors, depicting the cityscape. The italicized phrase 'I Love You So Much,' spray-painted by Amy Cook for her partner Liz Lambert—Joel doesn't say much here. He stares at it for a while before gripping your hand tighter. Suddenly, he tugs your arm, pressing his lips firmly against yours, sucking the air from your lungs. Here, you take a quick coffee break and continue on.

There are so many. Your eyes catch sight of a mural depicting a piece of toast and yellow butter, lovingly painted on a vibrant blue wall, inside the piece of butter and toast it says “you’re my butter half”. You laugh and nudge Joel in the ribs and repeat the words to him. His smile is the widest you’ve ever seen. 

Joel introduces you to Jeremiah the Innocent. A smiling cartoonish frog, on top of it you read HI, HOW ARE YOU. He then told you that Jeremiah had another name as well— Ron. Named by, of course, Sarah. Leaning closer, you tell Joel that you agree, the frog looks much more like a Ron rather than a Jeremiah. 

After that Joel, a keeper of his word, takes you to a small Tex-Mex place. He orders chips and queso as an appetizer, followed up by two cold beers and tacos. 

"I think you might have killed me," you say, rubbing your stomach and leaning back as the cold metal of the chair bites into your skin.

Joel cocks an eyebrow, a small smile touching the corner of his lips. “So. . .no dessert?” 

“Don’t joke,” you answer seriously. “I always have room for dessert.” 

He laughs, “You sound like Sarah,” just as you begin to smile, he adds. “And Tommy actually. That man has an endless pit instead of a stomach.” 

“Tell me about it.” you grin. 

The sun begins to disappear, shades of light blue fading into something darker that lingers in the sky. It reminds you of the times when you angrily slap your widest brush on top of the canvas and just move it around without any aim or goal. The string lights come to life. Joel looks gorgeous under the soft glow; it's almost dreamlike. If you were to reach out, you're not entirely sure that he wouldn't fade away.

His hand finds yours over the table, lacing your fingers together. A stuttering, silent breath escapes your lips. The effects of alcohol buzz both in your veins and mind. His thumb traces your knuckles, a gesture so familiar yet foreign at the same time. With a smile, you bring the back of his hand to your lips before he does. You tenderly kiss him, feeling the softness of lips moving over the mountains and valleys of his hand. His breath hitches, and your ears feel warm.

"Should we head back?" he murmurs, his voice dipping into something darker. His thumb finds purchase on your lower lip and tugs on it, eliciting a soft gasp. "I think I'm gettin’ hungry again."

You kiss the pad of his thumb as he cups your cheek, and you nuzzle into the width of his palm. Wetness gathers between your legs, heat building at the base of your spine. You can't wait for him to devour you.

Joel’s fingers trace the spine of the book that lays idly on your bedside table. He adorns a soft smile, gaze curious as he picks it up. 

“I’ll be right back,” you say, turning your back as he begins to flip through the pages. “I’m going to freshen up a bit, make yourself comfortable.” 

With that, you exit the bedroom and head to the bathroom. You're feeling positively tingly. The ache in your bones would normally entice you to go to bed early, but sleep is the last thing on your mind right now. All you want is for that man to ravage you. During the drive back, the only thing on your mind was his lips, his hands, his cock—his weight on your body.

You quickly splash cold water onto your face, sighing as the cool numbness replaces the sticky sweat from the day. After brushing your teeth, you head back. 

You smile when you see Joel sitting at the edge of the bed, book still in hand. 

He’s looking at something. 

You raise an eyebrow, taking a step closer. There’s something in his hand, something smaller and vaguely familiar. 

Shit. 

Shit shit shit shit. 

“Joel?”  Your voice barely manages a whisper, you're surprised he hears your pleading call of his name. He flinches, shoulders raising all the way to his ears. You clear your throat. “What. . . What are you looking at?” 

You already know the answer. 

"How long have you had this?" he asks, every word sounding dull. He twists his body enough to face you, holding the small Polaroid picture between his fingers— oh god, you're screwed, aren't you?

"I-I can explain," you blurt out, increasing your steps' speed. You stand in front of him, the picture's glossy surface reflecting the light into your eyes. "You forgot your magazine, and when I opened it to read it, the... the picture just fell out, I swear! I know I should've told you, gave it back, but, well, I—"

Unable to keep your eyes open due to the constant spinning of the world around you, you close them. His gaze remains fixed on you, half moons hidden beneath bushy eyebrows. Embarrassment surges through you, heating you from the inside out. In a fit of desperation, you cover your face with both palms, sighing into them. "Fuck, I'm so sorry," you mutter, your voice muffled by your hands.

Joel stares at you, dumbfounded. With shaky legs, he stands and gently cups your wrists, tugging your hand away from your face. You refuse to meet his gaze, your eyes glued to a spot on his neck. You miss how wide his eyes are, how his gaze grows soft as he stares. 

“Why are you sorry?” he whispers. “I think you misunderstood, sunshine. I ain’t mad. I’m embarrassed.” 

“What?” you furrow your brows, lifting your gaze. “Why?” 

He smiles, “Lots of why’s goin’ around,” you continue to stare and he clicks his tongue. “It’s a half-naked picture of me. A picture that I took, you can’t blame me for gettin’ flustered.” 

“You look good.” 

“Thanks,” he scoffs with a raised eyebrow. “Well, I guess it’s better that you found it instead of. . . Tommy or worse.” 

You know what worse means. He’s right, he was lucky it had been you. 

“I’m just glad you’re not mad.” 

“Me, mad at you?” he shakes his head, looking appalled by the thought. “Never.” 

“Don’t be so sure.” 

His hands drop to your waist. Fingers roughened with work digging into your flesh. The excitement you felt comes rushing back, flooding your veins. Joel pins your hips together, the growing outline of his cock brushing your clothed mound. You gasp and he inches impossibly close, lips brushing your ear. “Why did you have it in your little book over there?” he drawls, his voice thick. “Did you touch yourself lookin’ at it, sweetheart?” 

Your voice shakes and you can barely get a word out. You swallow, shaking your head. 

“Don’t lie,” he hums. The drag of his lips down your neck turns your insides into mush. “Can I see?” 

“See what?” 

A moment of silence follows. You take this time to unbutton his jeans and slip a hand underneath the dense fabric. You cup his length, and it hardens in your palm, growing in size. Your breath hitches as his hips move forward, chasing the grip of your fingers. Taking a deep inhale, you breathe him in, filling yourself with his scent. 

“I wanna watch,” his voice cracks. “See how you touched yourself while thinkin’ of me.” 

Your breath hitches, “And what will you be doing?” 

You stroke him slowly, the pad of your thumb moving over the slit before moving down again. You shiver at the feeling of his hot breath against your skin. 

“I’ll be watchin’, sweetheart. Engraving your spread-out cunt into memory.” 

“Jesus, Joel,” you breathe heavily, your pulse loudly thrumming in your veins. Joel is absolutely filthy—something you never thought you’d be thinking. He tugs you towards the bed. With every step, another garment falls to the floor. You’re shivering all over, body cold yet warm at the same time. The expectation crackling in the air pricks at your skin. 

What is this? It never felt like this before. A need so desperate. A want so large. In this moment you’re convinced that you and Joel were always meant to be as pretentious that might sound. You have no idea how else to explain it. Every time you’re with him, even in the most peaceful moments, you feel an impending. . . something. You’re not sure what it is yet but you know it’s a wicked, dark feeling. A dystopian surrealism. The works of  Zdzisław Beksiński; death, destruction, shattered worlds. . . yet still beautiful. You love those paintings. Just like Joel, it leaves you uneasy and mystified. 

The air is knocked from your lungs as your back hits the bedrest, your naked legs falling open like a butterflys’ wings. You wait for a touch that never comes. Joel drags the chair and takes a seat. He pulls out his hefty length, fingers loosely curling around it. You hold your breath. 

“Don’t keep me waitin’ now,” he rasps as he touches himself lazily. “Show me.” 

Your eyes never leave him, and you slowly circle your clit with two fingers. An immediate sense of relaxation and soft pleasure blossom over different patches of skin. You pinch the sensitive bundle of nerves and continue moving your fingers around. You arch your hips, wetness growing with every stroke. Your insides clench. Joel’s heavy breathing fills the room, your own breathing coming out in short pants. 

“Spread yourself darlin’,” his voice lowers, making your stomach turn. With two fingers you show him, spreading yourself s while you circle the middle one around your clit. A soft whimper of his name echoes from the back of your throat. It’s different like this. Knowing that he’s right there, staring, observing your every move. It lits a fire between your legs. A feeling so raw and open.  

Your ache swells inside of you like wildfire. You keen at the slick sounds of Joel’s fist accompanying your own lewd sounds. The rest of the world falls silent, your mind a complete blank, your sole focus on the man that makes you feel soft and tender. 

A build-up to an orgasm can be a strange thing. Sometimes you don’t think of anything or anyone, just focused on your fingers and the fire between your legs. Other times your imagination becomes so vivid that you swear there’s a cock splitting you open. Your stomach clenches, muscles rippling under the faux feeling of someone being there with you. And, technically, there is someone with you but not in the typical sense. Your back lifts from the mattress, your feet sliding down the soft sheets as your fingers move frantically. You can feel it hardening, throbbing under your ministrations. 

“That’s it,” Joel groans, the bed dips, you’re too far gone to notice he stopped jerking off and is inching closer for a better look. “Come for me, darlin’. Let’s see how you make a mess.” 

Your ears ring 

Your lips part so wide that the corners are aflame

Your throat constricts a silent plea

Your fingers twitch, insides pulsing as you gush and make a mess—just like he wanted. 

You love doing what he asks of you. 

You feel it trickling down the inside of your thighs, the curve of your ass. It’s too much. Whimpers rattling your chest, your throat sore. Joel mutters praise, telling you how good you are, how perfect. Another soft lingering orgasm warms you from the inside out, more drops of pure ecstasy spilling over. 

He trails his hand up the inside your thigh, slick gathering at the tips of his fingers. A soft gasp leaves your lips as you clench around nothing, “Next time I’m bringin’ the camera over.” you give him a look and he chuckles. “It’s only fair, don’t ya think?” 

“I don’t think that picture will be sexy as you think,” you answer, smiling. 

He frowns, his look almost glaring as he stares into your eyes, “Bulshit. You’re gorgeous. It’ll be like havin’. . . the . . . Mona Lisa in my pocket,” he says, slightly unsure.

"I do appreciate you using art references whenever you talk to me; it's like a gimmick," you grin and wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him closer. "Hey, if you want a picture, you can have one. Just promise not to leave it lying around like you did with your own. I don't need any more embarrassing moments in my life."

“We all have embarrassing moments.” 

“That doesn’t sound like a promise,” you answer with a playful lilt. He rolls his eyes, a hand sneaking down between your bodies, he aligns himself with your sopping sex, cock filling you slowly, inch by inch. Your eyelids flutter, a moan ripping from you. 

Fully inside you, he murmurs into your mouth, “I’ll guard it with my life. Promise.” 

His words fall on deaf ears. Your vision blurs at the stretch of his cock, drawing his hips back, only the bulbous head remains. He watches you. Watches your fluttering cunt adjust to the size, then, just as you’re about to say something, he slams into you. Electricity crackles over your skin, a sensation that makes you feel numb. Joel buries his head into your neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin as he sets a brutal pace. His strokes are slow and hard. Every ridge felt as he massages the insides of your cunt. It’s exhilarating. Breathtaking. So much so that you think you’re crying a little, soft salty tears gathering in your eyes. 

“You wanna know something?” he groans, fucking deeper into you. “I thought of you while takin’ the picture. Thought about this perfect cunt.” 

He holds your thighs with a heavy hold, pushing both legs up until your knees are grazing your forehead. You don’t think being a pretzel ever felt so good. Joel jackhammers into you, the wet glide of his cock leaves you breathless. Between narrowed eyes you watch him; his brows furrowed with concentration, lips slightly ajar, pink tongue poking out. He’s flushed. The soft tint of red looks good on him. You desperately want to bury your lips into his neck and lick the vein that meanders down, you want to sink your teeth into it. 

In a quick glimpse, his eyes briefly catch yours. The muscle in his jaw moves and he licks his lips, the color in his irises gone, eaten away by lust. You notice him pursing his lips and your eyes go wide, a thin line of saliva drips from his mouth, adding to the mess between your thighs. Your breath falters, you squeez him tight. His hips stutter but he’s not phased by the sudden tightness. 

“Touch yourself,” he commands, voice hoarse. “I wanna feel you comin’ around my cock.” 

You moan at how soaked you are, your fingers playing with the mixture of spit and slick. It doesn’t take you long. A couple swipes of your fingers and you’re seeing stars. Your orgasm sears you from the inside out, your entire body tensing at the force of his thrusts. With a knee-jerk reaction, you grip the back of your thigh, nails biting into your skin. He pushes your hand away, thumb soothingly going over the crescent-shaped marks. 

His unwavering gaze aggravates you. A sudden shame rolling in your stomach, he bats the thoughts away by allowing your legs to fall and frame his broad waist. Suddenly his lips are on your own, sucking your tongue into his mouth, swallowing the moans. He tastes your hesitations, your fears, your unsaid love for him—all of it, from a single, hungry, messy kiss. 

Joel’s hips slow down into a delicious grind, the coarse hairs that crown his cock doused, you feel the brush of his pelvis on the pearl that beats. Your insides flutter one last time before he’s pulling out, spilling over the soft flesh of your stomach. 

“Fuck,” he moans into your open mouth. You shudder at the trickle of seed on your skin. “That was amazin’ sweetheart. You always feel so fuckin’ good. ‘Can’t wrap my head around it.” 

You giggle, “I hope you know the feeling is mutual, neighbor,” you feel the wet drag of his lips down your cheek. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good before.” 

“You’re just sayin’ that,” he tuts, breath fanning your neck. 

“Do I need to remind you how we ended up in this bed?” you tease. “You, finding a picture of yourself that I masturbated to? If that doesn’t convince you I don’t know what will.” 

He thinks about it for a second then shrugs, “Fair.” 

“By the way thank you for. . . everything. I had a great time Joel,” you thread your fingers through his mussed hair and he lays his head on your chest. His hand gently cups the underside of your breast, a possessive gesture. You feel the scrape of his beard as he speaks. 

“I didn’t do nothin’ special. You deserve more.” 

Your heart clenches the ache of his self-deprecation a reflection of his inability to perceive his own worth. “Stop selling yourself short—” 

He cuts you off, “You deserve to have a relationship you don’t need to hide. It’s not fair.” 

Your heart splinters, torn between the desire to protect what you have and the yearning to be truthful to those that you love. When your silence grows, Joel look up to you, his eyes wide like full moons. And just as somber. Your lips crack in a smile. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “We’ll tell him eventually. When we’re ready, right?” 

He swallows, throat moving. “Yeah,” he answers, gaze breaking away from yours. “We will. When we’re ready.” 

Neither of you are brave enough to ask when that might be. 

The sun beats down on Tommy’s skin and with the back of his hand, he wipes away the sweat on his forehead. Next to the grill is always the hottest. It’s a beautiful day out, birds chirping, sun shining and whenever a cloud passes by, adding a bit of color to the boring blue sky, Tommy sighs in relief, enjoying the fleeting coolness of the passing shadow.

Joel is at the grill, and from the corner of his eye, Tommy sees him turning the ribs and chicken wings. A loud sizzle fills the air, and with a hiss, Joel backs away, cursing as a searing drop of fat lands on his tanned skin. In typical younger sibling fashion, Tommy laughs, earning an equally heated glare from his older brother. Neither of them says a word. Joel returns his gaze to the meats, while Tommy shifts his eyes back to the large bowl he's holding. It contains a mixture of a generous amount of barbecue sauce, olive oil, Worcestershire sauce, minced garlic, smoked paprika, cayenne pepper, salt, and black pepper. He gives them another vigorous stir before adding the stemless button mushrooms. He tosses them all together until each one is evenly coated.

A bead of sweat rolls down his face, “Joel, I know you have this sense of always wantin’ to be right but I doubt our recipe is gonna be the one to change her mind about mushrooms.” 

“It will,” he grunts, shirt dipping and sticking between his shoulder blades. “If she doesn’t, more for us.” 

“Well, I guess that’s one way to look at it.” 

Joel doesn’t answer and Tommy doesn’t bother to force a conversation. The silence he shares with his brother has always been a comfortable one, but lately, that hasn’t quite been the case. There’s this wall that he can’t seem to breach no matter what he does or says. And ever since Joel broke up with Asha, it only got worse. He can’t shake the sense that whatever his older brother had in mind, it must be about you. It has to be. 

Tommy’s feelings for you haven’t exactly disappeared. As much as he wished he had a button to turn it all off, he can’t, but he was telling the truth when he said he didn’t mind staying friends. What he feels for you is more than that. He enjoys your company, your jokes, your thoughts. He can’t imagine living out the rest of his life without it. 

However, he's not stupid, contrary to what many people might believe.

Tommy has noticed the stares, the weird tension in his brother’s shoulders whenever you’re around. Hell, if Joel has feelings for you he should just own up to it, talk about it. All Tommy wants is for Joel to come and talk to him. However, when it comes to romance, Joel rarely does. Even after the breakup with Asha, Joel barely said a word. Tommy later on learned the details from Asha and it fucking stung. 

Ever since they were little, Joel had this tendency to shoulder everything, it didn’t matter if the issue was big or small, he would carry it, and he would do so in silence. Tommy hated that. He wanted to talk about things, wanted to tell Joel about his nightmares, the blank notebook that Tommy can’t bring himself to write into—he desperately wants things to change. He wants Joel to stop playing the martyr. Tommy’s not a kid anymore, they can carry the weight together. 

“Gosh that smells delicious!”

Tommy jerks at the sound of your voice. Startled, he looks up and sees you making your way through Joel’s yard, carrying a Tupperware full of coleslaw and a pitcher of homemade iced tea. You place both items on the wooden table and walk toward the brothers. Just as you pass by Joel, your hand brushes his shoulder. Again, Tommy sees him visibly tense with the contact. 

You turn to Tommy, arms spread wide, a joyous grin stretched across your face. Tommy mimics the expression, pulling up a different kind of mask. He pulls you into a tight embrace and presses his lips ointo your forehead. 

"Oh, are those the mushrooms?" you ask, still held within Tommy's arms, your gaze lowered to the small table Joel brought out for food prep. "I'm both terrified and excited."

“I hope you’ll like’em,” Tommy answers. “Joel is convinced that you will.” 

You laugh and mouth at Tommy, "Do you think he'll explode if he turns out to be wrong?" Tommy can barely hide the snicker that escapes his lips.

“I heard that,” Joel grunts without looking. 

You expertly move the conversation along, “Where’s Sarah?” 

"She should be here soon," he responds. "She mentioned wanting to buy some lemon bars for the barbecue."

“Where is she buying them from? Olivia is going to come over too so she can pick Sarah up.” 

After discussing locations and making a quick phone call, Olivia happily agrees to pick up Sarah because, according to you, she's not that far away anyway. You help Tommy skewer the barbecue mushrooms, and conversation flows seamlessly. Even Joel gradually loosens up, relaxing as he starts to place the prepared skewers. You appear surprisingly cheerful, and Tommy doesn't mean to imply that you were ever a downer—rather, he hasn't seen you this relaxed in a long time. It seems the grief that had molded you months ago, forcing you to behave a certain way, had loosened around you. Now you see what he’s seen all along; that you deserved to make jokes and have fun and be happy. 

He likes to think he had a part to play in that with the renovation of the room.

In the midst of finishing up the mushrooms, a car stops, and a moment later, Olivia and Sarah hop out.

Sarah wastes no time wrapping her nimble arms around Tommy's neck, giving him a tight hug. Tommy returns the gesture in kind, lifting her off the ground a little. "Hey, sugarcube! How was school?"

"Boring," she answers, letting go. "How was work?"

Tommy scrunches up his nose, prompting a bubble of laughter from her. "Boring," he parrots.

While Sarah heads inside to change, Olivia places the lemon bars on the table and comes to greet you. The sizzle of the grill fills the air as Sarah's voice cuts through the lively atmosphere, calling out to Joel from the window of the house. "Dad, I can't find my purple shirt!" she exclaims. “You said you’d have it washed today!” 

Joel turns his attention away from the grill, a concerned furrow forming on his brow. "I'll be right there, sweetheart," he assures her. He looks over at Olivia. "Liv, can you man the grill for a moment?"

Olivia nods, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Consider it done. You go find that shirt."

With a grateful nod, Joel moves swiftly toward the house, leaving Olivia to handle the grilling duties. He passes by Tommy and you, giving a brief smile and a nod of acknowledgment before disappearing inside.

Tommy's gaze follows Olivia as she confidently takes charge of the grill, her tongs expertly flipping the remaining skewers and wings. There's a sense of ease in her movements, a natural grace that Tommy finds captivating. Her focused expression softens with a slight smile. 

Meanwhile, Tommy takes a moment to observe you as you retrieve a couple of cold beers from the cooler. The sunlight catches in your hair, casting a warm glow around you. 

You approach him with the beers in hand, Tommy can't help but be captivated by your infectious smile. It's a smile that reaches your eyes, radiating happiness and a genuine warmth that draws him in. He takes one of the beers from you, his fingers grazing against yours for a brief moment, sending a jolt of electricity through his veins.

"Cheers," you say, raising your bottle in a toast. Tommy mirrors your action, their bottles clinking together, the sound ringing in the air.

"Cheers," he replies, his voice laced with genuine affection. The clinking of the bottles marks a moment of connection, a shared bond that goes beyond mere friendship.

“Isn’t it interesting?” Olivia suddenly says, snapping your attention from Tommy to her. He frowns.  

“What is?” you ask. 

“That I’m here. . . doing all the work without a beer in my hand.” 

You roll your eyes, walking back to the cooler, “You could’ve just asked you know?” you tease, handing her a cold bottle. She shrugs with a wink. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

Tommy smells smoke. The crackling of flames too loud. Their banter fades into the background. His body grows tense by instinct, feeling the threat of danger that isn’t there. He becomes uncharacteristically still, listening, but not hearing anything. 

“Ah shit, I burnt it,” Olivia hisses, fanning the smoke with a moisturized hand. “Well, at least I only burned three of them. You guys think Joel will kill me?” 

He hears bits of the conversation, your laughter following Olivia’s words. The smoke in the air is thicker now, grayer. Sweat sticks to his skin and Tommy swears he feels the familiar feeling of hot dirt on his skin. Unaware, he starts rubbing his arms, trying to get rid of the sticky feeling. 

Tommy smells gunpowder. 

He hears bullets whizzing through the air. 

Just as the grill suddenly flares up, a searing pain jolts through Tommy's body. In his disoriented state, he misconstrues your touch on his back as a threat. Reacting instinctively, he moves away, his mind clouded. His hand inadvertently catches your wrist, twisting the limb. You let out a shout. 

A surge of guilt pierces Tommy's heart as he realizes that it’s you. His eyes widen with a mixture of fear and remorse, and he releases his grip on your wrist, his hands trembling. "Fuck, sorry—" he stammers, choked up. "I. . . I thought. . ."

Before he can finish his sentence, he sees Joel above your shoulder, his face etched with concern, closely followed by Sarah. 

"What happened?" Joel demands.

You step in before Tommy can explain, his chest heaves, “Nothing, I just startled him.” 

Joel doesn’t seem to buy it, his gaze fixed on his baby brother, he raises an eyebrow. “Tommy?” he asks again, his voice leveled. 

Tommy's gaze shifts from you to Joel and Sarah. He struggles to find the right words, his mind still tangled in a web. He doesn’t say a word, just shakes his head. Joel’s gaze softens, hands coming up to cup Tommy’s cheeks. He lifts his brother’s gaze to face his own. 

"It's okay, Tommy. We're here. We're safe, you’re home," when Tommy attempts to back away, Joel holds him tighter. "Let's just take a moment to breathe."

Tommy’s mind blanks for a second when Joel visibly takes a deep, slow breath. Joel looks at him with a sign of expectation and the younger Miller mimics the way he breathes. Deep and slow. One, two, three. Once more, and that’s it. He’s breathing again. The sky is blue again. 

“Shiiiit,” he exhales on the last breath. Joel drops his hands and takes a step back, you’re standing right next to him, brows drawn together. Suddenly the guilt is back. “I’m sorry,” he says the apology muffled by clenched teeth. “Are you. . . okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you say hovering back and forth, wanting to come closer but also not wanting to overwhelm him. “Do you need anything?” 

“I should be asking you that,” he takes a step closer, taking your wrist between his fingers. He gently smooths his thumb over where he bent—god, he’s a fucking mess. “We should put some ice on that.” 

“I got it!” Olivia jumps out, placing the end of the cold bottle on your wrist. You stifle a snort. She narrows her eyes at you. “That’s a weird way to say thank you.” 

You roll your eyes, “Thanks, Liv.” 

Tommy pulls away and takes a seat. Content in having calmed his brother, Joel returns to the grill and gives Olivia a look that screams, "What the hell have you done?!" 

He smiles, feeling his racing heart finally begin to calm down.

“Are you sure you’re alright uncle Tommy?” 

His eyes meet Sarah’s, two concerned and observant juvenile eyes staring into his own. He’s not sure what to say—no, he knows what to say, he just doesn’t know how to say it in a way that she’ll believe him. 

Without waiting for a response, Sarah sits next to him and reaches for two glasses and the pitcher. She pours iced tea into both. “Here,” she says, prompting him to replace the beer with the glass. Tommy obliges. 

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he murmurs. “That ain’t your responsibility.” 

“It’s not. . . but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t worry. And I know you can’t talk to me about it, I’m not dad, but you know I love you, right?” 

“‘Course I do,” Tommy answers quickly, ignoring the way the sun stings his eyes, he forces them to stay open. “Your dad takes good care of me. And I know you care, I appreciate the reminder though,” he lets out a sigh, drags a heavy palm down his face, and swallows. “I’m gonna get better.” I have to get better. 

Sarah doesn’t say another word. She slowly drops her head to his shoulder, looks over to her father who’s in the middle of placing three mushroom skewers on your plate. Tommy smiles. 

“They’re idiots,” she murmurs, he doesn’t miss the affectionate cadence in her tone. 

“Yeah,” Tommy answers. “But they’re our idiots.” 

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. However, your love for mushrooms still remained nonexistent, much to Joel's surprise. He was shocked to see that his and Tommy's barbecue mushrooms hadn't managed to convert you into an avid mushroom lover. In an attempt to mask the lingering taste, you nearly downed the entire pitcher of iced tea—making sure Joel wasn't looking, of course. He was still quite salty about not liking them. He even went far as to pout about it, which you found adorable if you’re being completely honest. You're not sure his ego could handle the thought of you desperately wanting to scrub your tongue with a sponge.

Olivia was the first one to leave as the scorching sun was replaced by shiny stars, and you helped with cleaning up. You noticed that Tommy was avoiding your gaze like the plague, and Joel remained silent about what had happened. Your wrist, although not physically hurting, still ached. You had promised him that you would be there for him, but you felt like you had failed miserably. You had no knowledge of what was going on in his head, and if today was any indication, there was a lot happening.

When he’s about to bid his farewells, you touch his forearm. It’s such a small gesture but he flinches anyway and you quickly withdraw your hand. You chew the inside of your cheek. 

“Do you want to come over?” you ask, swallowing. “I have some leftover wine.” 

It doesn’t take him long to answer but the seconds that pass feel like an eternity. He nods and gestures to the door. 

“I’ll be waitin’ outside, go get your things.” 

“Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in a sec.” 

He closes the door softly behind him. A click that is barely audible. You hear footsteps and turn to see Joel exiting the kitchen. “Everythin’ good?” he asks. 

“I think so, I invited Tommy over. I think it’ll be good to talk.” 

You see it in his eyes, the need to hold you, to cradle your cheeks and brush your lips together. The internal fight is visible from his expression. You figure which side wins when he remains still, staring, eyes flitting between you and the windows near the door. Tommy’s smoking a cigarette with his back turned. 

“I think so too,” he says, dropping his gaze to the floor. “He’s been more closed off lately and my usual grumpy self probably ain’t helpin’.” 

“I applaud you for admitting that you are, in fact, grumpy.” 

He tries to hide it but can’t, a small smile peeking from under his mustache. “Shut up.” 

“I really wanna say make me,” you grin and pick up your bag. “But I don’t think we have time for that.” 

“I’ll remember, don’t worry.” 

You ignore the way your legs press together at the sudden drop in his tone. The chill of the doorknob sends shivers down your spine. You’re afraid of being alone with Tommy. You’re scared that you’re going to blurt everything, all of it. You miss being able to talk to him—Tommy definitely wasn’t a stranger to the rants about the many failed romances in your life. With a sigh, you crack the door open. You hear a shift behind you. . . then a gentle hand on your waist. 

A kiss on the back of your neck. 

“Call me if you need anythin’.” 

“I will.” 

You finally step into the warm night. Tommy turns to you, exhaling smoke from his nostrils. The knot in your throat makes it hard to breathe, the younger Miller looks over your shoulder. 

“See ya later old timer,” he calls out to Joel. You don’t hear him answer but you’re sure he’s rolling his eyes, the click of the door follows. Cigarette loose between his lips, Tommy offers you his arm and you take it. 

The walk to your home is a silent one. 

Your house is ominous in the dark, quickly, you flick the lights open. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

“I always do,” he murmurs and takes off his shoes. “Would it be alright if we skip the wine? I’m not really feelin’ up for it.” 

“Of course,” you answer. “Do you want anything else?” 

“Nah. Let’s just talk.” 

The request takes you by surprise. You blink dumbly at the back of his head, and when the silence fills the space between you, he turns. He stares at you for a moment, gauging what your reaction means. His brows come together, a humorful smile tugging at one corner of his lips. 

“Why do you look so shocked? That’s why you invited me over right? To talk.” 

“I. . . Yeah, exactly.” 

He heads to the living room and you follow his trail like a lost duckling. “Before you say anythin’,” he says, lifting a hand as you take a seat next to him. “Let me apologize. I didn’t mean. . . I would never hurt you. Today was an accident, I got lost.” 

Lost. . . that was exactly what it was, wasn’t it? 

“It’s okay, it was my mistake really. I shouldn’t have touched you when you were so out of it. Can I. . . Can I ask what you were thinking about?” 

His shoulders raise, his breathing becomes shallow, “I think it was because of the smoke. I was right there, at the battlefield, again. Fuck. I didn’t know.” 

You wait for him to continue. 

“There ain’t much out there you know? Just you and a couple of brothers you made along the way. When you see them fall, it’s hard to erase the memory of it.” 

“No one is expecting you to erase it,” you whisper, your hand hovers above his knee and when he nods, you place itover the curve. “As hard as it is, that’s a part of you. No one blames you for today. No one is mad at you. We just want you to be okay—I want you to be okay.” 

“I know,” he murmurs. “I’m workin’ on it. I just hate talkin’ about it so much. I tried. . .I tried to be the hero you know? I tried so hard to make a difference. It didn’t mean nothin’ and when you realize the person you’re gunnin’ down is just as lost as you are, you realize there are no heroes in the battlefield.” a sudden chuckle bursts from his lips, compeltly void, he covers his face with a palm. “But I’m still so stupid. I still want to believe some difference can be made. I want to be good so fuckin’ bad and I don’t know why. I should be happy just doin’ my own thing like Joel but I’m not.” 

His words sink into your skin, blend with the blood in your veins, and suffocate your lungs. You want to cry. He sounds so broken, so hopeless. The need to hold him makes your knees tremble. You imagine an eighteen-year-old Tommy, signing up with the army with a hopeful gaze. You’ve heard the stories, remember Joel telling you the arguments that followed after that. Tommy hadn’t backed down, adamant about proving his brother wrong. The stubborn nature of it reminds you of your own brother, the endless arguments that would go on and on and on with your grandfather. 

The army takes their hopes and dreams and spits them out broken and strange. 

“You’re not stupid, Tommy,” you mutter, barely audible. “We all want to be good. There’s no shame in that. I’m. . .similar, I always want to do the right thing. I want to be good too. Don’t compare yourself to Joel he. . . he got lucky with Sarah. As long as she’s happy and safe he doesn’t care about right and wrong. We on the other hand, we’re still trying to find ourselves. It’s not as easy for us to make that distinction. We think endlessly about the ones who get caught in the crossfire.” 

God, but you aren’t doing the right thing. It’s easy to forget that with Joel’s lips on your skin—sure, maybe you’re not straight-up lying to him, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re being dishonest. 

He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes. So round and wide. “People like you can’t try to be good,” he answers, confusing you. He waits, allowing the silence to follow as he thinks of his words. “You’re already good. You don’t need to try to be.” 

The confession bubbles up from your chest to your throat. You taste it. Sweet like sugar and deadly like poison. You have to tell him. You need to tell him. 

You lick your lips, your mouth  dry like sandpaper. He’s staring directly into your soul, he sees something hopeful. Something good. You want to shake him, tell him that he’s the good one. He doesn’t blink. Not once. You open your mouth. You’re going to do it, you’re going to tell him and whatever happens next, however he reacts, it’s what you deserve. 

Normally, Tommy’s eyes are a shade lighter compared to his older brother’s. While Joel’s eyes walk the line of being downright black, Tommy’s always reminds you of your favorite brand of chocolate. 

But right now it’s dark as night. Just like Joel’s. 

“Hey,” he finally blinks, smiling. The confession that had bubbled to the surface slowly simmers down. “We should get some sleep.” 

“But—” 

“I appreciate you talkin’ to me sweetheart. I. . . feel better, in a weird way,” he comes closer, kisses your cheek. His lips are damp. “I’ll be sure to talk to you more in the future, a’right? Promise.” 

“Okay,” you mumble. You both get up from the couch and saunter upstairs, the air that surrounds you lighter. He takes the guest bedroom, the room where August slept the week before. 

Tommy stills at the door, “Well, goodnight.” 

You can’t leave it at this, you just can’t. 

“Tommy, I need to tell you something.” your words are sharp and clear. His hand tightens around the doorknob, what does he think you’re about to say? 

“Yeah?” 

You can’t do it. Coward. 

“Do you need. . . another pillow?” 

“Um,” he opens the door, takes a look. “No, I’m good. Is that all you were gonna say?” 

“It is.” 

It isn’t. 

I'm sorry that this took me insanely long for some reason???? Honestly, I blame the fact that I'm not used to writing family dynamics, it's hard. 😭😭😭 but nonetheless I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you guys thought 💜

I did make a post about it but I'll be taking a small break from SIB, I will return to it and will be working on it in the background but I really need to let my mind loose. The next two chapters are already outlined so y'all won't be waiting for that long! This isn't one of those series where the rest of the plot is lost in time and space and I'm too chicken to work on it lmaodfvd

Thank you so much for all the support!!