#AUG HES SO SILLY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunboki · 8 days ago

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⎯ what remains unspoken. ⟡ featuring christopher bahng

🪝 : Christopher Bahng x implied! fem. reader

TROPE. best friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, jealousy, angst, two idiots chasing their own tails believing their love is unrequited (ㅠㅠ), based in australia, summer! au, beachhouse! au

WORD COUNT. 8.3k words ☆ 32min read

WARNINGS. cursing, jealousy/shame, reader moves away, mentions of drunkenness, nondesc smut, a dirty dream? (nondesc), reader is said to wear makeup, mentions cheating

AUG'S NOTES. working myself through a writing block.. this fic has helped a lot :) thank you all for being patient with me thus far, i think writing for channie is like free therapy<3 please let me know what you think!!

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. Attached to the hip, you and Chris might as well have been twins in a past life. And yet, it’s always that tiny inkling, so many years where one of the two wants something more. So when you bring home a boyfriend one summer and both you and Chris begin drifting apart, you wonder if that denial will become something permanent.

or alternatively :

Until when do you stop pretending?

Among many things, Chris likes to think there was an “oh shit” moment to his life. One, exactly.

Over the years he tried pinpointing when that would be, what that would be.

And then you brought a boyfriend home. His home. To a beach house you two would occupy together. Making shadow puppets with your hands and running out to the beach in the early mornings.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Making sand castles, running into the water with your clothes on and running out giggling messes.

For two weeks every summer, always. Together.

Never with a plus one.

He debated upon subtly sizing up the guy or appearing overly friendly, but not an ounce of his face seemed to move. Steely.

Cold.

Chris was never cold, and he felt that pang in his chest—guilt—seeing you notice it. That miniature knit of your brow, the purse of your lips.

Did he know you like Chris did? Know when you were angry, or frustrated. What your favorite song was, or how you preferred your hair when you were focused?

He wanted to hate comparison, he used to hate comparison.

And now he’s hating himself for being too late, letting you slip from his grasp like sand between his fingers.

When you were once protagonists of a novel written with a happy ending, that love interest was now home to another.

And he was a bystander to a love story that was never his, watching you smile at someone else.

Someone that wasn’t him.

Breakfast is hellish, not to mention the sleeping arrangements. This boyfriend of yours in the guest bedroom, while he sleeps in his.

Alone. Without you, or your pretty hair, or your pretty eyes. Void of your warm body snuggled up to his, where you used to make silly jokes beneath covers and muffle laughter in turn.

A part of him wants to cry, wants to ask you what you two used to be. What was under the covers?

“Ah.. Chris..” The soft moan of yours, all those years back. Stupid, seventeen, single. A cursed pair of “S”’s he hadn’t realized would come to haunt him each time he closed his eyes.

What was your pretty sounds, his face between your thighs those five years back?

Was it all pretend? Exploration as friends?

No, you were smarter than that.

So he tells himself he was too late, and endures.

Because maybe, maybe they’ll be a plot twist one chapter. Where you fall for the side character.

No, no book ends like that.

It all started in an editing firm’s office.

Well, not literally, considering you hadn’t even been in your mother’s mind until Jessica Bahng—mother of a four-month old Chris Bahng—held back a poor woman’s hair while she belched into a toilet.

That poor woman being your mother, who found out she was pregnant that evening after work.

And through a few Saturday’s at the corner cafe and prolonged conversation by the office’s monitors, the two became the best of friends. Watching little Chris grow into a toddling one year old, and in the process welcoming you into the world nearly ten months later.

From there, almost every waking moment consisted of time together. Chris as the lanky teenager with his brown hair sweeping across a tanned forehead, and you, following after him each step he took at less than a year younger. Kindergarten, Primary School.

Although, in the midst of the friendship, your father had found a better job opportunity in Brisbane, a decent ten-hour drive from the Bahng household you’d found second home in.

Though, after plenty of crocodile tears and mumbled “I’ll miss you”’s tumbling from an eighth grade mouth too absorbed in worrying about the matter of leaving rather than the fact you’d likely visit every month, you departed, off to a city so different from the Sydney you had known of.

Even if it was Australia all the same.

And in turn, the annual summer visits began.

Summer before your freshman year of high school, where Chris finally got his braces off in his sophomore year and you soaked up every ounce of information given on surviving the first few days of school.

Then your own sophomore year, filled with feelings and discoveries and struggles unearthed you didn’t think could be experienced so vividly, expectations in need of fulfillment the board expected a sixteen year old to answer immediately.

What do you want to do with your life? Any plans for college? What about taking these extra classes? They look good on a résumé.

And simultaneously rip the ounces of childhood from your fingertips, but no school board puts that in the papers.

So the moment the car door opens after hellish voyaging to Sydney, you allow your lungs to inhale each ounce of salty air the Bahng family house offers, the childishness allowed for once amid crushing pressure.

It is a meager five minute walk to the lapsing shoreline after all, and the ocean keeps good secrets within the sand, washing away your footprints as to flush away traces of whatever happenings occurred there.

Yet, never truly forgotten. Instead, taken into the waters for little children to tell their mother of whom never believe the ocean spilled someone’s precious secrets.

“Chris.”

June eighteenth of your second year in high school, pajama-clad knees curl close into your body, lashes dusting open in the sparsely lit room to focus on him.

A dilation of the pupils, a hitch of the breath when he turns to you.

High school has changed Chris, but not in a foul manner. Blond curls, he’s exchanged from his usual russet locks. Round cheeks shifting in tandem with a sculptors hand, the marble of his skin a bit more toned, defined.

His jaw that clicks when he grows angered—not often, sometimes at his gaming system.

Thickened brows furrowing and knitting in concentration.

Though those eyes are the same, and always will be. No other will have eyes like his, and you know in any life, in any state of amnesia, they would be recognized.

An “aha” moment where a switch flips in your brain, formulating a mere sentence involuntarily.

I love this boy, and I hope for forever he’ll look back at me.

And for that, you’re selfish. But honest.

If Christopher was a stranger, a look into that gaze and you think you’d know him instantaneously.

How silly.

But just as you had spoken, you’re reminded that childishness was something found each time you visited this place regardless of your actions. You’d hold onto that.

“I don’t want to grow up.”

The bit of fat at his under-eyes cause his eyes to form into crescent moons when he smiles, wrinkles at the corner of thick lashes crinkling.

Chris has always liked the moon.

A warm hand of his reaches forward, cupping your cheek as if the first time.

You think you like this more.

“Then don’t.”

A stroke of his thumb, and you snort a laugh when the cold of your nose bumps against the digit.

“And when you want to go back to being sixteen, come to see me, okay?”

Little did you both know that the future had a way of testing just how long sixteen would last.

Until when do you stop pretending?

An explanation as to how you ended up with the curly blond’s lips pressed to your thighs doesn’t sit anywhere in sight, and in the quiet comfort of your bedroom, you let the thought slip by.

Yet, in the end, there’s as much of a pathetic excuse as expected.

That serves for a bit of background information first.

It was a mistake.

You were just teenagers.

But the stinging feeling in your heart, like the swelling of a thorn stuck between your rib cage, tells you that’s far from the truth.

For any infant it’s easy to placate an act, a theatre of behavior. For your stuffed animals as a doctor, for diving into the pool after the rings a mother would toss in beforehand, feigning the role of an experienced diver.

But there comes both a time and occasion to weave a lie, no less complete the loom as someone cognitive enough to understand a situation’s veracity.

When the mind is said to be “not fully developed” but each and every predicament feels like it matters on behalf of the world, when a sentence a year back pops itself from hiding, appearing at the forefront of your mind.

The true question.

Just how long can one stay sixteen?

Junior year, with eighteen lingering a hairsbreadth away for the both of you.

Junior year, where talk of pressures and intimacy lead to Chris being your first time.

And in turn, you were his.

Though that came a few minutes later. Something clumsy and unpracticed the both of you laughed at on continual occasion, enacted for the pure reason of curiosity, of trust.

While everyone gave themselves to strangers, you wanted to give yourself to someone adored, whom you didn’t believe for a second you’d regret.

But was that really the sole reason?

Curiosity?

Or love?

No. Nothing along those lines.

Or that’s what you told yourself those years, those moments. And although it’s supremely underestimated by that of adults, those prolonged stares, the upward quirk of his lips when he catches your eye from across the room is but a matter a babe could understand.

It has always been more, been a new road opened since you’d kissed him. The both of you simply headed the same route you always had.

Best friends, that’s all.

But to an astronaut, the earth has never been the limit, or they wouldn’t be an astronaut. And you were someone that loved Christopher Bahng, but hid behind a title the both of you knew was untrue.

Now it exists like a flash of the mind, swift and fast and almost unnoticed if not for the lingering feeling at your skin—an insatiable itch where his fingers had laid trace.

A soft nip to your inner thigh, his thumb resting just above your navel. His chin upon your lower belly when your events had come to a close, gazing up at you, unreadable.

No. Not unreadable, but one you didn’t want to read, look too far into and get hurt.

Was that it? A gnawing fear of getting hurt holding you back from the things you wanted?

His face lingering with traces of you, lips swollen and glossy and stretched into a smile you scorned to stare at.

“You’re.. gross.”

Maybe a “thank you” or a “that felt amazing” would’ve been the more appropriate response, but this was Chris, and to not speak your mind would break a vow instilled from the earliest of your elementary days.

He laughs, a squeaky sound of happiness you soak up like a sponge—absorbing, absorbing, taking in every ounce offered.

That you can trust in, place faith within.

In a future unknown, however, a part of you knows that the only way of freedom is to prepare for a pain that may come, and may not.

For there is never a guarantee love will be fatal, but all will pass someday.

To live without a taste of that freedom seems too awful to stay in your bubble.

All so scary, uncertain. The unpredictability can be overwhelming. Somewhere in between you hope he felt it too.

Love, that is.

Ah.

A kiss at your lips, and he tastes like you—something you’d shrink away with disgust at if not for his presence, the tender manner in which he eases your shirt back down, then his own adjusted over his head.

That night, you ate dinner and never spoke of it. Not a taboo topic, merely mutually understood. His parents out for a night, Hannah off staying late for an after school activity.

A kiss after washing dishes in the sink, a kiss when you flop onto the couch. After an uno match by the coffee table, where your competitiveness sparks into screaming matches, tackling him following not long after.

Your bodies like a whirlwind of motion, writhing with chortled laughter like squabbling infants.

Overtop of you he pauses, and your earlier feigned rage fades as quickly as it was provoked, chest warming at the chaste peck to your cheek, then the press of his lips you beckon closer, hands curling into the fabric of his tee, slipping down his back to trace the bumps of his spine.

One breath, two.

Warm, and it feels like you’re melting.

Fingernails usher the shirt upwards, his lower back beared, tanned from summer sun.

More.

You want more all over again.

“Chris!”

It’s Hannah’s voice, squeaky at age thirteen, that clears the steaminess instantly, clambering off each other so quickly your foot slams into his stomach, his hand shoving your face into the carpeted floor.

“I- I won in Uno! Fair and square!”

Not a great cover up, Chris, but the flushed nature of his ears, his cheeks, makes up for the stupid excuse.

From this prompts a sequence of events, of excuses and hiding, of denial and relapsing into what’s familiar.

But just as life is unpredictable, none of those thoughts plagued your mind yet.

Nothing had happened yet.

Then it happened, and you can’t come to recall how.

A party, freshman year of university. A guy, loud music, too many drinks.

He was a sweet soul, helping you back to your dorm when the world became a distant, fuzzy memory. Someway or another (you’re betting your roomie gave it to him), he snagged your number.

Because Saturday morning, 11am, you received a: “Feeling any better?” text you gazed at in horror—believing the random number to be some drunken one night stand—before being filled in.

Jae was his name. Jae Hyeong.

A student in your Wednesday lecture, passing by unknown, now becoming known.

You told Chris about him that summer, mumbled between bites of strawberries after a stop by the market in his dad’s old pick-up truck.

Rust clung to the sides, and you could never be certain the engine would start up again. But it was loved and cherished. So faith was placed in it anyway.

Expectedly, he just nodded his head, popping another sweet bite between plush lips.

The thing was, you told Chris about him without mentioning the dating factor.

Jae was funny, sweet. The first of your dates concluding with your stomach aching from laughter. And a cowardly part of you blames forgetfulness, while the other points directly at your heart.

Even when, staring into his eyes, all you see is Chris.

How cruel, and you want to hate yourself for dragging this boy along.

Scared.

Because at the moment, pursuing music was Chris’s dream, attending Uni at Sydney was that utmost goal he reached towards.

And you’d support him through it, even if you were left behind.

It wasn’t you, your mind berates.

It never was you.

So you’ll look away, deny the love you ache for. Jae deserves that, right? Not to be treated as some source of healing for you, a rebound for love unrequited.

Maybe the friendship of yours has clouded your judgement. It’s not love you harbor, but fondness.

A soul-sucking, gut-wrenching fondness that’s unequivocally love.

“I think you’d like him.”

Maybe this is your hopes of even ground. That if the both of them become somewhat-friends, your feelings will ease and you’ll realize this was all a fever-dream and you were truly in love with Jae.

All a dream.

“Will I?” Chris grunts in reply, both of your legs dangling from the truck bed’s edge.

He thinks you’re prettiest like this. A bit unkempt, no makeup, hair left to its own devices.

You. Wholly, unapologetically you.

Blemishes and smile lines just like his, bits of strawberry lingering by the corners of your lips he wants to kiss away, lap up with his tongue and take advantage of the quiet of the morning, the lack of townspeople awake to witness his greed.

Chris is greedy when it comes to you, he’ll admit it. He wants and wants and wants, and can’t ever seem to be satiated.

Whether it’s your kisses, your laughter, that sweet, mumbled moan when you’re feeling so good.

Shit. He’s in too deep.

To his core, Chris is a gentle man. He wouldn’t allow himself to be angry at you if it cost his life but, he’s also human. And humans feel jealousy.

It’s been a while since the thought occurred to him, since that biting pit began forming in his gut, gnashing their teeth at anything in sight.

“Is he good to you?” A quiet murmur, one that’s a bit reserved compared to his usual cheerfulness, optimistic tone. This is curious, observant. That kind of behavior when he wants to know more though remain subtle.

Plus, he argues with that frothing jealously. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend, right?

Then, as quickly as it came, the jealousy is gone, swept away in the crashing tides just a few miles from where you sit. Replaced with nervousness, worry.

It’s not like Chris can control you. You aren’t to be controlled, and it’d be cruel to keep you from your potential to begin with. He’s just the coward that can’t bring himself to confess.

And neither can you, but he doesn’t know that.

Two nervous messes, fretting over love they’ve shared long before anyone speaks up about it.

What remains unspoken.

Will your boyfriend be good to you? Treat you right? His head swims, grasping a strawberry hard enough that streams of juice slip down his wrist, droplets trickling onto the top of a muscular thigh.

And heaven forbid the guy breaks your heart. He wouldn’t hear the end of it from Chris and likely earn a beat down for the road.

But then comes the hopeful thought, the “what if” that lingers under his skin, buzzes at his fingertips as an index comes to loop a strand of hair behind your ear to better see you.

The bit of pride in the corner, nudging his shoulder as if it were you. A longtime friend.

I’ll treat you well.

Please let me be good to you.

Closing his eyes, the sad smile of yours after having failed your final exam resides there. Bittersweet, somber.

Would it be considered stages of grief if he had yet to lose someone?

No less, it feels as if you’re leaving him behind altogether.

“You alright?”

But for now, you’re by his side. It’s enough.

“Hm,” A nod, eyes remaining closed.

“The sun feels good today.”

It feels better with you.

Who knew how quickly good things go.

“Hi Berry!”

The summer before your junior year of Uni, and for a moment, standing in front of the Bahng household feels nostalgic in a way that makes your heart sink.

The rose-tinted glasses feel further away than ever. Peeling paint, cracks in the wood, creaking of the paneled floors you hadn’t noticed those summer’s before.

Things have changed, and you shudder to think you were the bringer of it.

The hand in yours whose last name isn’t Bahng, however, proves the point.

This summer, Jae came with you. Officially regarded as your boyfriend.

Thus far, there has been no greater feeling of dread and guilt in your gut than right now.

Dread in witnessing Chris’ reaction, guilt from the gnawing ache in your chest. Because no, by no means did you wish to treat Jae as a buffer, an anchor to love unrequited. Nonetheless, that certainly felt the case, more so the situation responsible for your guilt.

And maybe, just maybe, it was wordlessly understood. The manner you’d speak of Chris to Jae, that hidden longing unable to be shielded by a facade.

How cruel, a heart is. To love so shamelessly. Garner affection, but withhold a love solely reserved for one.

In need of mending, care you fail to give by yourself.

Berry, the beloved Chevalier King Charles Spaniel, helps calm such a maelstrom, if only for a short amount of time.

Before Chris walks down the stairs.

If fur had lined Chris’ back, it would be spiked in apprehension, aggression. Like a wolf, scruff ruffled in the presence of someone new.

A second-long overview tells him enough. Your hand in his, the way he trails after you as if some lovesick puppy.

The taste of bile in his throat makes him want to choke.

He missed his chance. Now it’s gone.

So childish, it all is. This harrowing sadness weighing on his chest, the jealousy.

“This is Jae, isn’t it?”

Ah, you should’ve known better.

Chris could always tell.

Yet, his eyes never leave yours. A mere flicker of attention to the newcomer until you’re bathed in the spotlight again, and the hair on your arms rises unnervingly.

“Yeah,” Swiftly clearing your throat, you feebly try at gathering your wits, granting Jae a smile you hope is reassuring.

“He’s.. my boyfriend.”

All at once, Chris feels his world crashing down on him.

“What happened?” He wanted to ask, forgetting you grew up, no longer that little girl seated beside him on the playground’s swings.

Because it’s already enough in recognizing it, but another in receiving clarification.

A slow inhale is breath into lungs he feels are already too full, straining to contain oxygen.

He missed his chance. Now it’s gone.

I lost you, whispers in his mind. Fragmented pieces of a puzzle.

There was a reason an extra pillow resided in the linen closet, or the My Little Pony toothbrush tossed in the mug his old swim-team sold as merch.

For you, and only you.

Never another.

Selfishly, he feels this casting has abruptly booted him from the main position, now rooted as a bystander in a set that isn’t even his.

Of course, Chris lacks the complete asshole gene, so a hasty handshake serves as greeting enough before he’s already reaching for the door.

“Eh? But we-“

“Guest bedroom is on your left. Y/N will show you. You two can sleep there or whatever- I’m going to surf.”

Just the partial asshole gene.

And he knows you can tell. Reading each other with the ease of a lover. Attentive, observant.

Nevertheless, your love is directed to someone else.

“He uh.. isn’t usually like this.”

A mumble on your part suffices in buffering the silence. That, followed by Jae’s cocked brow.

“Real friendly guy.”

Your lip tugs between your teeth, peering back at the boy from over your shoulder. Apparently, your expression of remorse fails to be hidden well.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Jae consoles, “I dealt with that one jerk of a roommate back in Brisbane for a whole semester, y’know? A bit of coldness is nothin’.”

Ignorance only feels good for so long. Bliss is never permanent.

If only you had understood that lesson, abided by it.

Yet, just like those years before, you turn your head the other direction and allow life to pass by without him in it, despite staying in the same home.

Despite him being everything to you, despite a love shared over countless years.

He’s irritable. Chris is. The subtle grit of his teeth you've come to recognize, the harsh grip he nearly crushes his fork in. Dinner had never felt so stifling, never when you were here.

All of a sudden, the household you had once found solace inside feels all too hot, a sweltering furnace where each extra beat of silence adds a degree to the thermometer.

Jessica Bahng’s cooking was incredible, as predicted, and conversation flowed effortlessly between you, her, and Jae—the boy charming without trying, his charisma winning over the woman after a mere two bites of food.

What wasn’t predictable was Chris’ quietness from across the table. Because each time he looks up, he finds himself seated in a theatre, watching what was pass by. Watching how you’d kiss Jae, hold his hand, laugh by his side.

Was that all it was? Him as a spectator?

The chip in the corner of his dinner plate held in hand verifies emotion unwilling to be shown on the surface.

He doesn’t meet your eyes, doesn’t even acknowledge you.

Jerk.

You scoff, offering him a miniature scowl from the corner of your eye.

“So, how’d you meet Y/N? I forgot to ask last night,” Jessica insists, glancing from you to Jae in rapid succession.

Oh, great. The formalities.

“Well,” A pause on the younger boy’s end, sheepishly grinning. “It was actually at a party—“

“Pfft, yeah right,” Chris grunts beneath his breath in amusement, ramming his fork down into a piece of broccoli.

Acting like a child and he knows it, but no amount of maturity can seem to withhold the snide comments.

Either the other three didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him. He’s fine with both.

“And yeah, I just remember her being so drunk and—“

“You wish,” The dyed blond mumbles once more to himself, shaking his head in quiet mirth.

Those words beckon attention, and Chris mutters an inaudible curse after the sharp kick his mother grants in warning.

That night, dinner concluded like usual. Cheerful on one end, quiet as a mouse on the other. Figuring out who belonged on which side came easy.

Except, Chris fails to remain silent this time around whilst attending to dish duty, lips drawing into a tight line witnessing Jae place his plate beside the sink.

Not in the sink, not even an offer to help wash. No, the bastard’s eyes are dead set on you, flickering from your eyes, lips, ass—

Dammit, he wants to sock the guy right about now.

However, he waits until you get upstairs to wash up for bed before speaking.

“Gonna give me a servant uniform too at this point?” The last of Chris’ mutters, and it seems Jae is done with staying silent as well.

“Alright, just what is your problem?”

“I don’t know, why can’t you be well-mannered as a guest? At least wash your own damn dish,” Chris growls back, the two’s eyes meeting in a vicious staring contest prior to his mother’s scolding, resulting in both boys on dish-duty.

Although it’s the words muttered in his ear when Jae leaves that nearly provokes every nerve in his body to crush the man’s face in with his fist.

“Whatever was between you two, forget it. She’s not yours anymore.”

Your face appearing from the top of the stairwell keeps his urge at bay, merely evident in the white-knuckled clenching of his fist, his form hasty to disappear outside the screen door.

Instinctively, sandal-clad feet taking him to the one place that lets him think.

The ocean.

It’s late, and high tides crash against the sandy shoreline. The squawking of seagulls has drawn to a close, the enormous light of the moon overhead a constant he finds comfort in.

Pattering of your footsteps, however, gather his focus instantaneously, wordless where your form curls by his side.

Another constant, just you and him.

Something to spite the change.

So much change, in fact, he feels like each bit of the youth he’s known is being swallowed up, consumed into newness he can’t accept.

But you still open doors fully in case monsters hide behind them, and he hasn’t changed the flavor of ice cream he buys from convenience stores since he was eight, so perhaps nothing has changed but exterior.

To be ignorant is to be blissful, a lesson continually presenting itself this summer. Neither happens to be involved in your predicament.

You’re first to break the silence. Always the more courageous one, albeit he’d never admit it.

“I shouldn’t have brought Jae here, I’m sorry.”

Your slow inhale.

“This is.. our place, I get it. I just thought—“

“No,” A shake of his head, second nature upon reading the startled look you give him.

“I mean,” He has to tilt his head to peek at your face, hidden between your knees like a child.

“It’s our place, you’re right but-.. If one day.. somebody comes along, then that’s..”

A begrudging acceptance, if that’s the word.

You look up at him and- ah, you’re so pretty. Chris stops to stare for a moment, his lips parted like an infant fixated on the cookie jar.

Hurried blinking and a swift breath dispel the prior awe.

“That’s okay. If “you” becomes you and someone else, then so be it.”

A small, wry smile. Though beneath, he feels as if he’s breaking.

“I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t pester your boyfriend, or, y’know, future boyfriends. ‘S what I do for my favorite girl.”

He smiles, wanting to cry more than anything while playfully pinching your cheek.

Why can’t you be mine?

Ten minutes or so separate your conversation, but you pick up again as if you’d never stopped in the first place.

“Sometimes I think it’d be easier if I could just go back to being when we were kids again, y’know?”

“And what would you do if you were kids again?”

These words are slow, patient.

His reply ruins the peace, the begrudging acceptance you had built like a wall of defense, blocking feelings foaming at the mouth to climb from your throat, echoing in the night air.

“I’d never let you go.”

“I’m going to bed,” A mumble interrupts the quietness, your head weighing against his shoulder.

An anchor, in fear you’d be thrashed into the waves without return.

Chris has always been your buoy.

If only he could keep you afloat in your dreams, but you had yet to yearn for that just yet.

The small nod where he assures you he’d stay a bit longer serves as an untold: “good night” you offer a tight smile in response to, slipping past the creaking doorway and up to your shared bedroom.

Shared with Jae, not Chris.

And no, Jae wasn’t a buffer. A substitute until you could muster courage to confess, to shout the aches and pains and torment your messy love prompts.

More often than not, Jae has been a lighthouse, helping you venture through the fog of feelings muddling your mind, decisions.

Hell, you don’t know half of what you’re doing.

So many adult responsibilities are manageable, but love provides its own labyrinth no matter the age, never a mere math equation, a problem and solution.

But with loopholes, and heartbreak, and stupidity, and impulsiveness.

Confusion and sadness and guilt, these gut-wrenching feelings keeping someone up at night.

Like tonight, where your eyes stare daggers into the guest bedroom’s wall across from you. A wall lacking Chris’ swim posters, medals. The old nightlight still plugged into the outlet, once prominent galaxy patterns faded into nothingness.

There for the memories, it was.

Is that what you and Chris were now? A night light still plugged into the wall, left there like some somber source of recollection to look back on?

You hate how your stomach dips at the thought, the nausea building in your throat causing you to roll over, now face-to-face with a snoring Jae, limbs strung like a starfish across the mattress.

Luckily, sleep wasn’t too far away for you either, though it felt like an eternity before your consciousness fully dissipated.

“Oh… Oh my Go-“

Your arms lift above your head, reaching for something you don’t even know. Reprieve, possibly, amid the tingling of your body, the fuzziness of your head.

After months of dreamless nights, of course it’s a dirty dream.

Then an involuntary shift occurs through your body, hand extending towards the boy’s hair. And for a moment, it seems your dream-like vision flickers like a faulty lightbulb, because all you can see is Chris.

Somehow, you know it isn’t Chris, but Jae. Nevertheless, he’s the only face you can make out, the only form recognizable.

Although his name wasn’t explicitly uttered, the horror etching itself into your bones merely mouthing it has you reeling back into reality.

Not Chris’s bedroom, but your dorm room.

Not his chocolate irises meeting yours when you look down, the gentle reassurance in his warm palm, grasping the back of your thigh to offer a grounding squeeze.

This is Jae. This dream is in Brisbane. And Chris is a whole ten-hours away.

Your second day at the beach house, you wake in a cold sweat.

And right there, sixteen really did fade away.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”

Apparently, on a rather comical note, Jae had anticipated your form to be standing by the stove preparing breakfast, his sleep-ridden frame the last to wake up.

Mrs. Jessica had already busied herself driving Hannah to spend the summer with their grandparents, her own annual ritual.

Trust, he wasn’t all too pleased to find Chris there instead, the pan-wielding man granting your boyfriend a venomous stink-eye.

“Sorry, I don’t play housewife,” Your slumber-ridden mumble from the countertop’s stool beckons Chris’ slight snort, pointing the spatula to himself as if clarifying a: “That’s me, the housewife”.

That, paired with containing a huff of laughter watching your form peering into the fridge, hoping the next time you’d open it up a delectable dessert would be there.

To no avail, evident in your dejected grumble.

“Hey,” The curly blond scowls, his frown growing imperceptibly deeper when Jae presses a kiss to your cheek in greeting.

You don’t notice.

“Wait for breakfast, ‘m making omelette how you like. And uh.. I made some other stuff. You can have that, Jae.”

“Thanks,” Sarcasm drips from your boyfriend’s tone, rolling his eyes.

Still on the rocks.

Got it.

“Anytime,” Predictably, Chris feeds off the sarcasm, acting as nonchalant as ever while plating the food and murmuring reminders about waxing his surfboard in the garage.

Further grating Jae’s nerves in turn, you note.

A bigger bite of your omelette feebly manages to redirect the anxiety, the remnants of stringy cheese clinging to your upper lip.

“You’ve got something there.”

Your best friend’s hum rings aloud, reaching to brush the piece of food from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

And for a moment, a memory of the past flickers in your mind. The darkening of a room, now bright after only a second.

A memory. Not the dream last night.

His lips on yours, the quickening of breath, hands squeezing his clothing like a vice and—

“Thanks.”

The words surprise even you, not a forethought in sight.

And you also don’t notice the cock of Jae’s head, the utter “I dare you” spoken in Chris’ lifted brows, this sneering quirk of his lips offered as a war cry to the other boy before walking past without another word.

One look, and a war had begun.

“We should visit the zoo,” Jae mentions one Sunday while you’re painting your toenails and Chris is absorbed in some video on his phone.

“You seriously haven’t been to the Sydney Zoo?”

Conversations always end like this, and you’re tempted to ram your head into the nearest wall.

“I can’t believe you don’t know how to surf. You’re Australian, seriously.”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t live in my fancy beach house a convenient two minute walk from the beach.”

More bickering, bickering, bickering. Your skull wants to explode.

On an off-handed occasion, maybe they’ll behave tolerably in regards to one another.

That day was not today. Frankly speaking, tonight, where the only responsible person in the household, Jessica Bahng, had left on a work trip.

…You would admit, you also aren't immune to stupid decisions.

However, this stupid decision took the cake.

A competition, predictably, but not just mini golf or freestyle swimming; drinking.

From Asahi beer, apple-flavored soju and hard liquor, the whole assortment bedecked the coffee table, an already tipsy Christopher Bahng swaying across from you.

Sure, college paved the way for immaturity, but seriously. Seeing who could better handle their alcohol was just sad.

And trust, Chris looked about the epitome of sad (adorable, you forgot to mention) with his flushed cheeks and ears to the frustrated crease of his brows, pupils blown, eyes glossy where they fixate on a victorious Jae.

Who, in a prideful fashion, tips back another shot of soju with his own, less-tipsy hiccup prior to getting up and stretching his legs, hopefully gathering water in the process.

Nonetheless, Chris just spaces out, evidently inebriated thanks to the unfocused nature of his attention. Fleetingly, his gaze then roved on you, head tipping in a swoon-worthy fashion like some enamored first grader.

Little were you aware just how gorgeous you looked right now from the boy’s buzzed perspective, breath smelling of alcohol where he exhales short huffs, lips curving into this dumb-happy smile.

And— he passes out, thankfully already seated on the carpeted floor.

Though, leaving you and a grumpy Jae with the responsibility of lugging him onto the couch, letting sleep help sober him up until you (considering your boyfriend did everything in his power to avoid interaction with the blacked out Chris) took the role of coaxing sips of water into his mouth.

By midnight, all the glasses had been cleared, and you adjusted a blanket over Chris’s drunken, sleepy frame, Jae already preparing for bed upstairs.

“I love Berry.” A whisper, and you crane to catch the remnants of his words before he shifts beneath the blanket, dead silent for a minute or two.

Then he rolls over to face you, sporting a downright longing sort of look.

“.. I really love Berry.”

“You said that already, Chris.”

“Okay.”

And he rolls over like it was all a dream, pouty.

Too cute.

Your fond touch smooths coiling strands of hair from his forehead, sparing him a last glance prior to thumping up the stairs.

That night, lying sleepless in bed, you can’t help but wonder:

How much more of this? For both them and you. How much more competition until the calm facades crack, until your patience snaps?

The flames of a rivalry never seem to wane, each interaction adding gasoline to a heat almost unbearable.

Only a matter of time until someone pours in too much and ignites an inferno.

One week until your visit to Sydney comes to a close, and the two are still at each other’s throats.

Between mundane things like making dinner or cleaning to stupid competitions like who ran the fastest mile in junior high or who can stay underwater the longest (or the drinking competition, a notable contestant), this trip has started to feel like a babysitting gig instead of a vacation.

“Chris-“

“Christopher.” Chris corrects one evening, the snide reprimand earning Jae’s icy glare in return.

Currently seated by your side on the couch once occupied by the blond, Jae scoffs to himself, arm extending to drape over your shoulders.

Meanwhile, your attention remains solely on the nature channel, a bit dazed in exhaustion after a long day of swimming beneath the warm sun overhead.

What makes him bristle is the way Jae leans into your form, pressing a kiss to your temple whilst maintaining sole eye contact with the other man.

When your head turns, however, all is well.

This quieted, occasionally evident rivalry grates your nerves with no trace of resolve.

“Say,” An aimless hand taps against the side of the reclining chair your best friend sits within, a loose tee and sweatpants adorning his form.

And you’d be a fat liar to not admit glancing more than once at the way the fabric stretches over his torso when he shifts, squeezing against muscles unable to suitably fit.

Merely appreciative, you tell yourself.

“Why don’t we let dear old Jae pick Y/N’s favorite movie, hm?”

Such a mocking question, it is, and Chris spares no expense chucking the remote control in hand a little too hard at Jae, the man’s brows furrowing in silent irritation he refused to voice aloud.

Testing him.

Perhaps a time ago you’d mentioned your favorite movie to your boyfriend, though the topic wasn’t all too serious in your opinion.

For Jae, however, this was war, this unspeakable quiz verifying if he knew you better than Chris, knew the answer the other man knew like the back of his hand and then some.

You both know the champion title would always rest in Chris’s hands.

That you kept quiet about.

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t know her favorite movie.”

Cocky, Chris is.

And dammit, the tick of his jaw is unfairly attractive.

“It’s Tangled, now give me the remote and both of you grow up.”

It’s your turn to answer, having grown sick and tired of these childish taunts before snatching the remote from Jae’s grasp with a shared, scolding glower towards the both of them.

Comedically enough, they shrink like dejected puppies.

Fortunately, the movie helps distract you for a while, long enough that a nap becomes a decision not on your own accord—body slumping against Jae’s.

Unfortunately, Jae flipping Chris off from the couch and mouthing a “loser” beneath his breath escalates things to a level you don’t like to imagine.

Perhaps that’s the cause for either black eye decorating their face and Chris’s busted lip the next morning.

Trust, waking up to black and blue boys roaming the house was a sight hard not to laugh at.

“Did you guys.. fight?”

“Fight? I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve got a black eye, Jae.”

By the time the last day rolls around, those arguments, petty behavior, childish games become something you want to hold onto, June and July drifting past too quickly for you to chase after.

And while you had some grasp of their fight three days ago, only half of it has been made knowledgeable.

Chris would like to keep it that way for a multitude of reasons.

The favorite movie of yours served as the gasoline, and you had foretold the inferno to come.

“It’s not my fault you can’t let go of something that was never yours!”

Chris shoves Jae’s suitcase in the back of your car harder than need be, the other boy’s words ringing in his head as if some dreaded deadline.

“She’s- she’s not something to be owned like an object! I don’t want to possess her, I want to love her! And my god if you could get that through your head I think things would become a lot easier for both of us!”

A worthy argument on his own part, Chris would argue.

“You know what needs to get through your head?” Chris recalls the events similar to replays in sports, nearly able to feel the anger that had been coursing through his veins when Jae retaliated.

Storming straight up in his face where they stood on the beach, the night sky as their audience.

“You lost your chance, Chris. Waited too fucking long to confess and now you’re acting like a little kid just ‘cause you didn’t have the balls to say something, get it?”

Jae spat his name like a cursed pseudonym, and a snort of satisfaction exhales from his frame envisioning the sucker-punch he gave the boy after that.

Followed by the clench of his fist, observing your laughter while talking with your boyfriend from afar.

Boyfriend.

Dammit.

Then the last part, before they both went tumbling into the sand in a mixture of fury-filled shouts and flying limbs.

“She’s not yours, Chris. Deal with it.”

His reply?

“Hurt her, break her heart, and I’ll give you a matching black eye.”

Who knew such a day would come so soon.

Maybe you should’ve known better.

Or that’s what you try to explain to yourself using. Some sad excuse to make up for the scene witnessed just minutes earlier.

Six months, not even half a year, and two months after traveling to Sydney together.

Stopping at crappy restaurants during the boresome ride, cracking jokes, laughing until your bellies hurt. Kissing, sex.

Was it the whole tension with Chris? Your mind rationalizes, frantically searching for some reason, rhyme.

Trick question. There is no rhyme or reason in love.

Now, Jae professes all of it amounted to nothing while staying silent at the same time.

Him kissing another girl in front of your dormitory proved that.

Cheater.

And within the few minutes you bask in realization, you wish so terribly you could unleash that wrath on him. Scream in frustration or land similar punches the two battered each other with in Sydney.

Kick him in the shins, yell manically enough to scare the sadness out of your body.

But honestly, you just want to cry.

A sharp inhale, battling the sob threatening to run free with the beep of your phone’s keypad, serving as your only companion.

Until Chris picks up the call, and shit.

You break.

“What.. What was I thinking-“

It’s a job and a half sniffling up the cries, and for once, you feel embarrassed calling Chris crying—even with this being far from the first time.

Why involve someone else in your own problems?

Realistically, a part of you knew such a happening both could and, stupidly enough, would occur, knew this placated vision of peacefulness was a meager mask, acting as a film to the truth behind the blurry camera lens.

You can’t stay ignorant to him, and there isn’t a particle of happiness in unrequited pining, no matter trying to ease the pain with someone else who’ll eventually hurt you.

Fuck.

Because you love him. That’s all.

There, said and done.

In your mind, at least. But saying that aloud results in your tongue feeling like lead, results in more crying.

“Y/N,” His voice, and you feel the coldness in your fingertips warm up, as if wrapped in his embrace. A long, safe hug.

“Answer me two things.”

Your additionally embarrassing, whimpered sound of agreement affirms his offer.

“Was this Jae?”

No it was—

Yes. Honestly, truthfully, it was.

No more pretending, excuses. Sixteen was over.

“Mhm,” Wiping your snotty nose on the back of your hand, a miniscule amount of relief comes from leaning against the wall behind you.

“And do you want me there or just want to talk?” That lilt of his tone, tender.

He’s good at making you want to cry. Though never due to meanness.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, you calm your voice as much as possible.

“Here. Here, please.”

Then a realization.

“But you’re, like, ten hours awa-“

“That doesn’t matter. I’ll make it five. Right now, go back to your dorm, get some good takeout, and turn on Tangled, okay? Find something relaxing and don’t think about anything for a moment. I’ll be right there, alright?”

Longing lies in the way you press the phone to your cheek, savoring his voice like a soothing balm.

Let’s go back, let’s try this one more time.

First that time he asked you to prom in highschool, the second in his bedroom, allowing yourselves intimacy with each other for the first time.

You’ve never heard of a third chance before.

For him, you’re willing to try.

That said, Chris held tight to his word, the rattling truck of his a miracle in managing to get here—no less get here two hours earlier than most did on the drive to Brisbane from Sydney, alerting you from the comfort of your dorm’s bed with its puttering engine and creaking brakes.

Surprisingly, however, he doesn’t spare you a word whilst rushing past, seemingly having chosen perfect timing in rushing to the dorms where a rather unlucky Jae steps out.

You don’t think you’ve heard a more dreadful noise than the crunch of Jae’s nose beneath Chris’s fist, the force alone sending the boy bowling to the ground before he’s being picked up again by the collar, your best friend downright seething.

“What did I tell you, hm?” A growl, his arm poised for another blow you can’t bring yourself to watch.

“Hurt her, break her heart, and I’ll give you a matching black eye.” Chris repeats, nothing but white-hot rage charging through his veins.

Jae, satisfyingly enough, looks terrified.

Good, Chris internally muses. Because simply pulling in, he saw all he needed to. The puffiness of your eyes, your shuddering sniffles.

And all of a sudden it feels like that time in second grade, where Chris and a few of his friends had gotten redemption on the kid who stole your favorite popsicle flavor purposefully.

And for you, you feel like you’re watching that missing-toothed, sunburnt boy stand up for you again.

“I think another black eye might compliment the nose,” He snarls, momentarily catching your gaze.

The subtle shake of your head dissipates every angry instinct simultaneously, deciding to harshly shove Jae back to the ground alternatively and, at last, gather you in his arms for a hug that felt long overdue.

Occasionally you come to think there are connections that reach deeper than love — being the connection of souls in the most intimate of moments. Being your fingertips threading through blond curls, kissing at his lips clumsily—unlearned.

Right now, this hug. Nosing into the scent of his detergent, finding comfort in the place you were meant to be in, the arms you weren’t meant to be held in.

It had always been unlearned, but it was Chris, so you didn’t mind.

Oh, you loved it.

Loved him.

A bloody-nosed Jae could wait, because the last hour of Tangled needed to be watched, and the curl of his fingers in yours coaxed you along without a chance of stopping.

Senior year and soon to be graduates. Grown up, maybe just physically.

“Chris.”

The words are nearly inaudible, drapes of the canopy bed sole privacy to the man lingering above you, blond curls just as you remembered, eyes that same, heart-stopping chocolate hue.

Your hands find themselves reaching up, tentative to touch warm skin. Golden.

Chris is always golden.

“Please hold me.”

And those arms that were always meant for you, lips kissing at your chin, pulls you into a rip current you had no intention of leaving.

Yours, his.

Messy, unlearned. Down to experience eventual problems.

But it was Chris, so you didn’t mind.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

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embrosegraves · 1 year ago

Text

𝒜𝓊𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝐵𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝐼𝓃 𝒩𝒶𝓋𝓎

Oscar thought he wouldn't have to deal with anything similar to Alpine-Gate ever again. He was wrong.

Oscar Piastri x Horner!Reader

-> Everything Goes Wrong (pt1) -> Oscar breaks up with his girlfriend and McLaren start treating him like Daniel, but then he meets someone new. posted: 3 Feb 2024

-> A Storm Is Brewing (pt2) -> Mark gives the Go-Ahead for possible negotiations with Red Bull, McLaren pull an Alpine, and Oscar makes a decision. posted: 5 Feb 2024

-> The Build Up (pt3) -> In a large bowl mix Contract Negotiations with two parts Announcements and three parts Life Updates, let cook for an hour and while it's still hot, sprinkle some jealousy and betrayal over the top as a nice garnish. posted: 12 Feb 2024

-> Pre-season Bonding (pt4) -> Where teams are announced, dinners are held and Oscar finds himself surrounded by people who are determined to help him on his way to greatness. posted: 3 Mar 2024

-> Get This Party Started (pt5) -> The season starts and it's a relatively calm affair, until it's not. Some things can be predicted while others show up like an unwanted Force Ghost from Star Wars. posted: 29 Mar 2024

-> Down Time Down Under (pt6) -> Oscar finds that having a crush having less than platonic feelings for your boss's only adult daughter is apparently free real estate for some of F1's biggest gossips posted: 10 May 2024

-> Shift Happens (pt7) -> Miami and Imola bring new challenges to the grid. Challenges such as finally initiating the romance part of your potential relationship- oh and being on the podium with your ex-teammate too. posted: 19 May 2024

-> Warning Sainz (pt8) -> Monaco, Canada and Spain oh my! Oscar decides to continue his quest for world domination (claiming home races) and prove that he's the best boyfriend his ex ever lost. posted: 23 June 2024

-> Baby Got Track (pt9) -> Adding two more GPs to his list of home races, Oscar realises that he's A-OK with having half his bags packed with things that aren't his. posted: 10 July 2024

-> Silly Goose Extraordinaire (pt10) -> When Y/n isn't there for two races, Oscar discovers that he's far more attached than he thought he was. At least it's almost the mid-year break! posted: 5 Aug 2024

-> Red Bull Gives You Wins (pt11) -> Mid-year break brings a lot of strong emotions, but there's only one thing that could make them even more intense... posted: 6 Mar 2025 (I'm so sorry)

-> Simply Lovely (pt12) (pending) -> posted:

-> Big Ric Energy (pt13) -> posted:

-> Red Bull School Of Racing (pt14) -> posted:

-> 1st's The Worst, 2nd's The Best (pt15) -> posted:

-> We Shenan'd Once, Let's Shenanigan (pt16) -> posted:

This is an Ongoing Series!

#Aussies Belong In Navy #ember's masterlist #redbull!oscar piastri

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muzansfangs · 8 months ago

Note

I just wanna be silly since Aug 27th is my birthday, but I wonder how jjk characters would act on your birthday, I love shower thoughts🙃

You spend your birthday with them.

Starring: Suguru Geto x f!reader; Satoru Gojo x f!reader; Sukuna Ryomen x f!reader; Choso Kamo x f!reader; mention to Yuji, Nobara, Nanami, Maki;

Format: head canons;

Warnings: fluff, consume of alcohol, jealousy, Sukuna is possessive and there are some red flags warnings in his part, robbery, slightly suggestive, party, wedding, parenting in Suguru’s part;

Plot: it’s your birthday and you are spending it with your beloved boyfriend. What is going to happen? Has he planned something to make your special day particularly memorable? Let’s find out!

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Suguru Geto.

• What a gentleman. He woke you up that morning by leaving a trail of gentle, featherlike kisses down your shoulderblades. As you stirred in your sleep and peered up at him through your heavy eyelids, he smiled softly and kissed the tip of your nose affectionately “Happy birthday, love” he murmured, careful not to startle you as you gradually began to come back to your senses. The peace and quiet lasted only for a couple of seconds, before Nanako and Mimiko dashed into your bedroom and charged at you to squeeze the air out of your lungs with their tight embraces.

• Untangling the limbs of your ‘family’ you finally made it to the kitchen, where you already found an aboundant breakfast ready for you to enjoy. Suguru had made you the queen of his cult and, actually, the empress of his heart and house. Siding with him until the very end, you had helped him with the girls and he had made it his life goal to make you feel loved. He peppered your face with kisses as you ate your pancakes, before a war of cereals and whipped cream began, laughters and giggles filling the air of the house.

• Most of the day was spent shopping with the girls and strolling around the city. However, Suguru had already planned something special for you in the evening. When you made it back home, the girls obediently accepted to spend the evening with a babysitter and Suguru took your hand to lead you back to your shared bedroom. On the top of the bed there was a large black box, a silver ribbon exalting the elegance of the packet as he incited you to open it and wear what was inside.

• A Valentino dress was soon embracing your body as Suguru showered you in compliments and called a taxi for you two to have a nice dinner at the most exclusive restaurant in Tokyo. Fine wine, sweet nothings whispered to your ear as delicacies were served at your table one after the other.

• This man loved gifting you diamonds every now and then. How did you even stare at him in awe as he latched a beautiful necklace of rubies around your neck?

• You spent the night in a five stars hotel, sipping champagne and finally letting him worship your body like you deserved.

Satoru Gojo.

• He gave a terrible migraine to every mutual friend of yours. In particular, he drove Kento insane. It was your damn birthday, how could you expect your boisterous and popular boyfriend to keep it low? He threw a party for you at his penthouse, going as far as inviting the higher-ups as well. Multicolored lights and baloons were in every angle of his house, music so loud speaking with the hosts was nearly impossible. However, you had to admit he had taste in picking the right decorations to meet your expectations.

• Expensive bottles of champagne everywhere and a pile of presents were waiting for you in the middle of the living room. Next to it, a very tired Nanami, choleric at your boyfriend, blew into a silver trumpet with a conical blue paper hat on the top of his hair. His eyes were sincerely wishing you a happy birthday, but you knew he was silently warning you that your dear boyfriend Satoru was going to die by his hand pretty soon. After the party, most likely. You could not blame him.

• Once the party ended, Satoru literally jumped on you. The make-out session was pretty heated, as you two rolled over his king sized bed, kind of tipsy but in your right minds. You did not expect him to give you an extra present. Apparently, the necklace with a sapphire pendant was not enough. The moment he knelt before you with a velvet box in his hand, you gawked. Tears of joy rolled down your cheeks as he asked you to become his wife. How could you decline?

• The moron posted a picture of your hand and the sparkling jem adorning your ring finger a couple of minutes later and you spent the night answering to best wishes and Kento’s comment.

• “Widowed a day after the wedding. Sorry, ‘@ y/n’”.

• You wondered why Yuji had liked that comment, but then you assumed Sukuna had probably just taken over his body to be a pain in the ass.

• Overall, you cuddled a lot, making plans for the future. The first thought coming up to his mind was asking you to move over, because he would have been able to protect you non-stop, if you lived together. And this was the beginning of a fairytale.

Ryomen Sukuna.

• It was your what? A birthday? Mortals and their weird festivities. How could someone be happy to age? A step closer to death and you still seemed happier than ever. The first thing he did was attempting to be nice in his brutal way: he offered you sex. When you shut the door at his face he connected the dots. Maybe, he needed to understand what women liked to do on such special occasions.

• He saw a man buying flowers for his girlfriend and thought you might have appreciated the gesture. A faminine thing for you to enjoy could not a bad idea, right? A few minutes later he was banging at your door demanding you to let him in. He dropped dozens of roses onto your table, leaving you speechless but genuinely suprised.

• “Who told you to buy me flowers? That’s way too romantic coming from you” you teased him, planting a kiss onto his cheek.

• “I saw a fool buying it. I robbed the florist”.

• You facepalmed and offered him to stay with you for the day, because you had invited some friends over to eat lunch together. He did not mind, or this is what he said. He really tried to behave, but your friend was glued to your hip and, according to him, his eyes were transfixed on your ass. He almost sent that poor guy to hospital, but you were lucky he had leave for a last minute mishap.

• Once everyone was gone, you two bickered. However, it ended up in the only way he had wanted to begin the day with. Clothes gone, lips latched onto your neck and a night of passion no man could have ever been able to offer you.

• Unfortunately, you were in love with that savage.

Choso Kamo.

• Man on a mission. Ever since Yuji explained the importance of birthdays and some basics about ‘how to make a girl happy’, he had spent weeks trying to organize a perfect date night for you two. A date night, yes, because he thought throwing a small party at lunch with your mutual friends would have made you happy and it did. But he wanted some attentions too, in private.

• His birthday present for you was a polaroid. Obviously, he could not stop himself from blushing, the tip of his ears turning reddish, as he handed you the small box with a huge purple ribbon to adorn the lid. He told you he had heard you tell Nobara and Maki you wanted to buy a polaroid to decorate your bedroom with pictures of your friends and he admitted he wanted the first photograph you would have taken to be with him.

• He took you to the ferris-wheel in the evening and stared at you enamoured of your smile the whole time. He did not give a damn about the landscape, when he had his whole world in front of him. He was so lovesick, but it did not mind. Once you got off, he bought you anything you wanted. Candy-floss? Peppermint sticks? Pizza? Name something and he went to fetch it for you in a nick of time.

• A powerful boyfriend meant tons of plushies won at the different stalls. When he spotted a huge lilac teddy bear holding a heart in his paws, Choso went straight for it and beated the records indicated on the giant sign at the entrace of the small shop just to see your eyes widen and twinkle in adoration. He might have grinned mockingly at a kid on your way out, triumphantly carrying the plushie for you.

• When you began to get tired, he took you home. Resting your head on the top of his shoudler during the bus ride, you dozed off and he did not have the heart to wake you up, when you looked so sweet and lovely. He might have glared at any person staring at you, whilst you were asleep, but it was his protective instinct kicking in. He behaved.

• Back into your flat, he snuggled into a cocoon of blankets with you into your bed and you smiled, upon hearing him uttering sweet nothings in your ear “I love you, I love you, I love you” he murmured continuously. Naturally, he let you be the little spoon. He would have done anything for his ‘princess’. He wondered if his brother would have been proud of him, because Choso was surely giving it his best shot!

• Sleepy make-out sessions were definitely the best part of the day, before you finally succumbed to sleep.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! This was supposed to be published sooner, but happy belated birthday honey! I hope you enjoyed this small scrap🥹❤️

Love you,

Luce

#geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #ryomen x reader #geto x reader #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #sukuna smut #getou suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader

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martinsorbit · 2 years ago

Text

Oh hey, it's that sun guy.

After two arduous weeks (Aug 1st - Aug 15th) the Sun cold porcelain figure is COMPLETE! DONE! FINISHED! HE IS HERE IN ALL HIS GLORY

Its been a long (and at times painful) process considering the time it took for all the stuff to dry and for me to have free time to finish this project, but now the silly little jester is in my hands and he looks SO CUTE AND COOL!! HE EVEN HAS A HOOK

Thanks everyone for hyping me up and keeping me motivated during this <3 It literally meant a ton and helped me keep working on this bonkus shit

under the read more, there will be some more details about the figure itself and some more pictures ( Like materials, how much time it took, the process stuff etc)

feel free to ask me questions! thanks everyone!

QUESTIONS ABOUT THE PROCESS!

Q: What materials did you use for this?

A: White Cold Porcelain, Hot Glue, super glue, pencils, pliers, paper clips, scissors, paint, all purpose varnish, paintbrushes, metalic pens

Q: How long did it take to make him?

A: Roughly two weeks

Q: Are you going to make moon too?

A: yes but it will take a while

Q: [X element of suns character design] is missing.

A: trust me, I know. Ive been staring at his model for roughly a whole week and mentally rotating him in my brain , so if something is missing its cuz i was either having a hard time making it or cuz I took creative liberties lmao

Q: How long did it take for the stuff to dry?

A: The cold porcelain abt 3 ish days; Paint took 1 day and the varnish also a day (as it states in the bottle)

FINAL NOTES:

Yes, you can use colored cold porcelain instead of painting it! It's just easier for me to paint it over

- For the love of god, be careful when applying the varnish, that shit is bad for your health! read the instructions, do it in a ventilated area, and NEVER put it too close to your face, or u might get some not so good side effects ( like yer eyes burning)

No, i dont intend on selling him anytime soon sorry ( this was asked before regarding some other cold porcelain thing I did, so I just thought i would add it here)

- If u dont wanna spend too much money on the colors u can just buy some Yellow, Cyan, Magenta, Black and White (CMYK) along with some skin tones; u can basically make any color from those

- I used two of Sun's main poses in the game as inspo for making this

- His faceplate is supposed to spin but since it keeps falling off I decided to glue it

#martinsaysstuff #fnaf #mars artz #fnaf dca #dca #fnaf security breach #fnaf daycare attendant #daycare attendant #sun #five nights at freddy's

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vinjinssunglasses · 9 months ago

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———————————————————————————

✮ character: vasco

✮ summary: him in a relationship w u <33 [sfw]

✮ start: 12 Aug (1:45am)

✮ end: 14 aug (edited 21st aug)

✮ a/n: I love him sm 🙏🙏

———————————————————————————

- He’s very inexperienced — he’ll do embarrassing things that he learnt in videos such as “how to impress a girl” or use silly advice from Jace, who, in fact has never dated either.

- Initally, he’s very awkward and flustered, but as time flies, he’s become so relaxed around you. Before, at the beginning of your relationship, he used to fluster when you asked him out on an one-on-one outing, but now he’s eased enough to make light-hearted jokes, gradually becoming comfortable enough to reveal his true self to you.

- Type of guy to do anything for you, no matter how big or small the task is. Whether it’s staying up late with you, calming you down when you’re distressed or simply wanting his attention, he never hesitates to put your needs above his own. You feel so soothed knowing he’s always by your side no matter what.

- Absolutely makes sure you never have to lift a finger around the house. Chores such as: laundry, cleaning, cooking, etc., he does it all for you so you can just sit back.

- Contrary to what you might expect, he wouldn’t go for pet names in day to day life. Instead, he’d prefer to call you by your name while slipping in ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart’ to catch you off guard.

- He loves the idea of matching accessories with you. He’ll create little bracelets, one bearing your name and the other with his and wear his constantly, no matter how childish he may seem. Wherever he goes, he’ll always be reminded of you. Quite cheesy, but you love it nonetheless.

- Though he may appear intimidating to others, his gaze always softens when he’s with you. When he walks past a flower shop, he can’t resist but buy your favourites, even if it’s just an ordinary day. He knows that he wasn’t supposed to spend money, but he finds it all worth it when he sees the smile spread across your face.

╰┈➤ On that note, although they not may be the richest, expect be pampered with gifts, including new clothes he thinks you’ll look gorgeous in, necklaces, and other surprises you can barely keep up with.. He’ll spend ages debating with the rest of Burn Knuckles what dress to get you or simple gift to get you. They mindlessly debate on what would fit you better until they finally come to a half-hearted agreement.

(They even make you handmade gifts that you find adorable.)

- Showers you with compliments. ‘Beautiful’ ‘Pretty’ ‘Talented’, words you hear so often but you never have a doubt about his sincerity, given by the smooth, gentle tone of his voice when he whispers those sweet words into your ear.

- Vasco never gets angry at you — He simply cant. To raise his voice or to even think about causing you any harm is unimaginable. He loves and adores you way too much to harm you.

- His favourite thing to do with you that he’ll never admit is simply holding you close, feeling your breath on his chest and body nestled against his. Vasco doesn’t mind being big spoon or small spoon — he just wants to be with you.

- Another thing Vasco’ll never admit he loves is when you wear his clothes. When you wear his classic tank top or his Burn Knuckles uniform, he can suddenly feel his cheeks burning up as he quietly murmurs ‘you look good’, all while holding back what he really wants to say.

- To date him, you have to get use to his constant hands all over you. He never turns down affection, gladly pulling you in by your hips when you ask to cuddle. When you’re casually doing anything, he naturally wraps his arms around your waist and nestles his head into your shoulder like its second nature.

- No matter where he takes you, his attention is all on you. During movie dates, he finds himself constantly taking glances at you to see if you're enjoying it. While on a picnic date — although has never thought of being on one, but only considered it when Jace suggested it — he's still only has you on his mind.

- Vasco always talks about you to others: your beauty, your voice — everything about you is captivating. He’s practically deaf to anything that isn’t related to you.

- When your first anniversary came around, Burn Knuckles all cheered and decided to throw a surprise party. Cake, balloons, music - all of the usual elements of a celebration. You’ve never seen Vasco this excited; he was practically on cloud nine. The constant chatter and questions left you drained. By the end of the day, you were so exhausted that you just let yourself collapse atop his broad chest which felt especially inviting. His heartbeat thumped. loudly in your ear, its rhythm increasing with each passing second as you slowly drifted off to sleep. He then wrapped the two of you in a warm blanket, letting his chest serve as your pillow, secretly savouring this quiet, cozy embrace while letting his fingers gently glide through your hair before slipping into sleep himself.

- Expect to be treated like the second in command of Burn Knuckles. They all applaud and smile in your presence and hold you with such high regard that even Jace feels like you’ve taken over his role. Damon, to top it off, even gifted you one of his precious ducks, as a kind gesture to the new ‘second in command of Burn Knuckles’.

#lookism #euntae lee #lookism x reader #vasco x reader #lookism manhwa #lookism comic #greenest of green flags #lookism vasco #lookism x you #lookism hcs

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absolutebl · 9 months ago

Text

This Week in BL - Getting hot under the collar and in the kitchen and on the pool table and...

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Aug 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 3-4 of 12 - one of the things I'm enjoying about this show is the fact that the introverted super shy uke is having hot fantasies, and the extroverted seme is having the sweet fantasies. It's another way this show is highlighting God being the world's greenest flagged seme BL has ever produced. (And he's being given stiff competition this year - trend alert.)

Anygay: God is so cute and so not cool and so in love and all the consent asking word salad coming out of this boy. I LOVE him.

Diew: It’s ep 4 so I’ve decided we can talk face-to-face. God: So how many children do you want?

The teaching him to play basketball bit, where God politely asks to hold his hand, is so freaking adorable I can’t.

I'm thinking of calling this show the anti-Mame pill.

Blue pill? Red pill? GREEN pill!

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 11 of 12 - We gotta talk. I do like this version, but it’s starting to feel lackluster. Perhaps it always was by comparison to the bright sparkle uniqueness of the original. Perhaps I didn't notice because I was distracted by G4. But now I gotta say it's become a bit disappointing and even my love for G4 can’t seem to bind me to this. Frankly, this show is making me want to watch either the Japanese version, or My School President. It’s never a good sign when a currently airing BL makes me want to stop that and go rewatch an old one I’ve already seen.

NO SINGING.

Meanwhile, the "locked on the rooftop" trope! I haven’t seen that one in years. Cool. Also cute kisses. They learning.

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 8 - I can’t believe this is ending next week. But also I can. And I have thoughts.

I really love SailubPon. They might be one of my favorite newer pairs on the scene right now. But I just don’t believe in these characters or this couple. I don’t feel like they are going to have a lasting relationship. It feels like they’re just using each other for sex and distraction, and that’s how the script to set it up, and as a result they’re never gonna make it as a couple. As soon as the sexual fire between them burns out, what do they have to build a relationship on? Frankly? That would be fine if this were a modern love drama, and not a BL. But this IS a BL.

Putting the health code violators aside, I really do believe in the secondary pair, but they haven’t been given enough bandwidth to develop as a couple. There’s no way they’re going to adequately resolve Methas and JJ in the final episode.

At this juncture, I’m mostly finding this show annoying. Which in itself is annoying, because I wanted to love it.

Why is it that Thailand, the land of the best food in the world, king of BLs, struggles so hard to produce the restaurant set BL of my dreams? I’m really pissed about this.

That said, the Methas & JJ stuff is killer. Loved JJ running away. So good. Plus the age old decision - love or money?

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 2-3 of 12 - The issue was me and I've managed to get hold of this show again. The story within the story is so ridiculously badly written I'm going spare. I’m not sure if the outside show is not ALSO badly written. That said, I do love how the 3 writer friends are all shipping our leads. It’s VERY silly. Meanwhile, cohabitation trope is a go.

I like the side couple too. Stern Daddy + lost puppy is a very cute dynamic, I hope we get more than just crumbs. I actually am enjoying this show now. Ep 3 kinda derailed into this weird chimera novel that they’re all writing together and I’m finding that bit the least interesting, but I adore the domestic components which I think may turn out to be TutorYim's strength (if they're allowed to lean into it).

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - Man I hope this gets some kind of distribution at some point. It was a pain to find and watch. But I enjoyed it. The focus is more on the seme in Thailand’s version. Which I don’t mind since that's rare in BL, and it’s more August on my screen. It’s all round softer than China’s version but still feels very familiar. I know some fans are struggling with it, but not me.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - I like that Sam’s crafty business espionage has paid off. Them teasing Sam & Yo really had me belly laughing. It was so funny.

Legitimate question. Would one put perfume on one’s cheeks in Thailand, as one does on wrist or sternum? Because of the sniff cheek thing? Scented face powders?

I do feel like with MosBank & SailubPon scorching up our screens, we’re being spoiled by some of Thailand‘s best high heat pairs at the moment.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 5 of 12 - It remains kind of sweet and cute. It's also calm and slow moving. Oddly it reminds me of La Cuisine in its style and execution (if not content). I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 7 of 12 - I don’t know. I’m getting bored.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 10fin - Fort’s acting during the break-up was truly great. But I feel for Rak. It’s rough to learn that someone else is playing a long game with feelings while you were playing a short game with d**k.

Ultimately this is probably a solid 8/10 show but I’m mad I wasn’t madder at it, and I'm mad I was so bored throughout. So it gets a 7/10 and let us not speak of this again. I’d like to simply forget about it. Trash watch.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 1-2 of 10 - OMG a uni student who looks young and a... COP! GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. I had to go grey to get it and I hate everything about what I had to do. But ya know what? Fucking worth every single repeated crash-causing advertisement.

I love it. The grumpy lonely little student cook and the cheerful mature police officer. What a fabulous dynamic. Is the cook looking for a boyfriend or a Daddy, and do we care if it has the same result? It is filmed VERY manga style camp. I’m a little nervous about that, but this means it’s also very fluffy and so damn sweet. It made me squeak with the cute. I’m gutted this didn’t get distribution.

Ironic that Tawada Hideya is in a new BL while Sunspot is re-airing.

Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 3-4 of 8 - Ah, the gays are doubting the bisexual again. How familiar. I like how this one is paced and moving through time, even if the relationship seems to be going comparatively slowly by contrast. I love the way Sahashi is always looking at Natsume, even when they’re in conversation with someone else. Ah yearning. I think the conflict was kind of inevitable, given the two personalities of the protagonists, and I like that. (No manufactured angst here.) But I still hope they can repair the breach and I’m still interested. Frankly this is so classically Japan - I don’t know what story beats it’s following and I’m not entirely sure where it’s going, but I kinda like that unpredictability. Makes me think it could go into "must you, Japan?" territory but fingers crossed.

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - I'm enjoying it very much. I could do without the girl character. I know she’s more interesting than most (this is Japan after all), but she’s not really for me. It’s the complexity of the connection between the leads (and why they like each other) that’s being executed so brilliantly in this show (and in the manga, FYI). Both actors are so on point with their roles and the nuanced emotions required of these characters that every time it’s only them interacting I'm riveted. I could do without the rest of the cast tho.

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 1 of 8 - I have a confession to make, I’ve been watching this whole series as it goes along. But this is the pair I absolutely like the most. I’m not sure I would necessarily recommend any of the installments, and I’m not sure how this one is going to go, but I’m VERY invested in this particular couple. They are so pretty!!!! This is a true friends-to-lovers struggle. I like that a lot. (Reminds me of I Cannot Reach You but a different dynamic.) Did I mention how pretty they are? And we already know they gonna kiss well. I bet the uncut version is stellar.

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - It's no one's funeral, turns out! Reports are in - not only are there kisses but it ends happily with wedding plans. So I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. I'm enjoying it. Ya'll know I adored Chinese BL before censorship. It has a certain unhinged quality I very much apreciate (and is the reason I'm so tolerant of the Thai pulps) that I think will marry well with Wuxia's effervescent and ever-present tropes. Watch me suffer here.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - About a singer with stage fright and his timid fan starring Charles (H4 the puppy one) and Michael Chang (the youngster in My Tooth Your Love), plus side couple featuring a Thai actor Jame (Koh in Gen Y) and Liu Min Ting (of Guardian fame). What a damn team. With their powers combined they are...

fine.

This is a fine BL. The fight scene was fun and I like the meet cute. I’m not sure about the chemistry of the leads, but I think they’ll probably do okay. I admit I’m struggling a bit with a singing and the music. Are you surprised? I think I like it enough, but I’m not wowed.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - Oh! Out of the blue attack kiss. What IS this show? I don’t get it at all. Bah. I guess they’re dating now. It’s… so odd...

It's airing but...

4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) - A rich boy at uni suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I have a source, but I've decided to hold off and binge if it ends okay, since it's only 8 eps. I depend upon y'all to tell me if it's safe.

8/16 The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) ? eps - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Again delayed? Not sure what's going on with this one but the continued push-backs do not bode well.

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!! (Yeah this is gonna sit here until then).

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming This Month!

8/22 The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) 12 eps - announced in 2023 this one has a high school set stepbrothers trope and is reputed to be high heat. From Taiwan! It's made for me. Based on a novel Mou Mou from the Your Name Engraved Herein folks, so it could go dark. Still, I'm very excited.

8/22 The Paradise of Thorns (Thai movie) theater release - Jeff Satur is back but this does not look like a BL (the gay lover's death is the inciting event). More in Goodbye Mother vein. Looks dark and dramatic. He opposite and extremely well known actor Toey Pongsakorn who has never done gay before.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

WHY IS HE SO FINE?

I truly belly laughed. Sam & Yo did not go in the direction I expected, but this scene alone made me not mind that they curtailed the suffering Sam was rightfully due. (SunsetXVibes)

Tall boyfriend armpit, anyone? (Monster Next Door)

The two extremes of BL in one show (Long Beans indeed).

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

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medusapelagia · 9 months ago

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14 The betrothal

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Lake), @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: prince and princess ), @aug-kissed (prompt: Hand Kiss) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: omegaverse, Omega Steve Harrington, Alpha Eddie Munson, Beta Robin Buckley, violence, blood and injuries, vomit Words: 1563

If Steve was a proper omega he wouldn't be on that stupid carriage, to be shipped from Loch Nora's Kingdom to Forest Park like an unwanted pack.

A proper omega would honor his family, stay home, cross-stitch animals and flowers, and learn poems and music. But Steve never was a proper omega and after he rejected his last suitor his father told him that he wasted his last opportunity to choose a proper alpha and that he was going to find one willing to take in a rebel omega like him.

Male omegas are a blessing and a curse: they are very rare, so Steve's father was able to ask for a high dowry from whoever wanted to marry him, but there weren't many alphas willing to tie their life to a male omega.

Steve has heard talking about Forest Park. A lot. And never in a good way.

They have a very bad reputation, but they are rich, so Steve has no doubt that his father got a really good dowry for selling him to those people. Well, not selling, betrothing him.

Thankfully, Robin is coming with him. Moving from one Kingdom to another and being completely alone would have been terrible, at least his beta best friend is trying to make him laugh by making silly comments and distract him from the long journey.

Even if the carriage is big and cozy, spending hours sitting on a carriage isn't that comfortable, and Steve's royal ass is in pain.

He doesn't even have enough space to stretch his long legs because in the carriage with them, there are the two guards King Munson himself sent to escort the future bride.

The guards are heavily armed, as they were expecting something to happen, and Steve isn't totally surprised. After all, Forest Hill has a terrible reputation. Their King was an outlaw before he rebelled and became king by killing everyone and conquering the castle, so Steve isn't really looking forward to moving in the same bed with a notorious assassin. But it’s not his choice anymore.

Savages, that's the kindest word Steve’s mom used to define those people, while what everyone thought but none dared to speak out loud was that King Munson was the new Warlord.

A warlord. Not a high-born, just a man with enough power and money to hire the strongest knight and mercenaries to help him keep his power. And Steve is going to get married to a Warlord’s son, or nephew, he's not really sure. Bloodlines are mixed in their Kingdom and they don't give a fuck about dynasties and the only blood that they care about is the one the blood spit by their enemies.

Steve has heard terrible stories about how cruel and violent those people are. One of Steve's servants has told him that Prince Munson killed his first wife with his own hands because she wasn't too sick to give him a child.

Being a male omega Steve knows he can bear pups, even if his heats are irregular and it's harder for him than for other omegas, but he never thought that the ability to bear a child or not could have been the cause of his premature death.

His scent gets sour and acrid while he thinks about the monster that he's supposed to wed. Maybe he should have been more pliant with his previous suitor. Lord Hagan wasn’t that bad after all. A little bit too presumptuous for Steve’s taste but he doubts he would have had him killed if he wasn’t able to bear a child.

"You ok? Do you want to take a break? Stretch your legs a bit?" Robin proposes, drawing soothing circles with her thumb on Steve's hand.

"Yeah, that would be nice." He confirms, rubbing a hand through his hair.

"No break and no stretching. We are still in hostile territory." One of the guards replies without even looking at Steve.

"Couldn't we stop just for a moment?" Robin insists, "We have been on this stupid carriage for hours!"

But an arrow flying through the window and ending his journey a few inches from her face makes her shut up.

"Stay down!" One guard yells, yanking Steve toward the carriage’s floor so abruptly that he falls badly on his own wrist, spraining it, but he doesn't have time to yelp because the carriage stops in the middle of the woods.

"Stay inside!" The first guard yells, jumping out of the carriage and drawing his sword. For a moment Steve catches a glimpse of a bloodied body staring blankly at him with a long arrow in the one eye socket.

"It's ok. It's ok." Robin tries to soothe him, releasing beta relaxing pheromones, but the other guard stops her, complaining that he can't afford to get relaxed by her pheromones, so Steve and Robin hug each other, trying to hide themselves from the attackers.

"He's here!" Someone yells, kicking the carriage door open, but the second guard is quick to pierce the intruder from side to side, what he wasn't expecting was someone else opening the door on the opposite side and grabbing Steve with no kindness, yanking him by his hair.

Robin screams, reaching out toward Steve, the guard turns his head just for a moment and another attacker takes his chance to stab him in the leg while Robin keeps screaming, but the clenching of the metal armor is so loud that Steve almost can't hear her.

A strong hit on the back of his head makes everything turn a warm black and he loses consciousness.

***

When he opens his eyes, Steve is surprised to find himself resting with his back against a big oak tree. In front of him the bluest lake he ever saw.

He puts down his hand, trying to get up, but immediately desists when a bright pain makes him whimper.

"I would stay put if I were you. Your wrist is sprained and you took a nasty hit to the head. Are you feeling dizzy?"

Steve startles, looking around himself, and finally finds a tall man with dark eyes and a nasty scar on his face staring at him with an amused smile.

His kidnapper!

The omega tries to crawl backward, but the unknown man is right, his wrist hurts too much and he still feels lightheaded.

"I think I'm going to puke…" he mutters, before turning on his side and emptying his stomach on the green grass.

Surprisingly, his kidnapper is quickly at his side, holding his hair out of his face, whispering encouraging words while he holds him to his chest with one arm.

When Steve's body gets limp into the kidnapper's arms, he takes a moment to breathe in his scent.

Embers and earth.

An alpha.

A proper omega should never be left alone with an alpha who's not family!

Steve tries to wriggle out of the stranger's hold, but he gently chuckles and pushes Steve's neck closer to the scent gland on his neck, "You're fine, omega. Nothing to worry about."

"I'm betrothed." He objects in a soft voice, while the alpha pheromones make him pliant and docile.

"That's what you're worried about? your honor?" The unknown alpha chuckles.

He has a nice laugh, Steve decided in his drugged state of mind, and he smells delicious. No other alpha ever smelled so good to him.

Steve must have said something because a very pleased rumble comes from the alpha's chest.

"You don't smell bad yourself, sweetheart."

Steve should be ashamed of himself, but the alpha's sturdy body is holding him tight and for the first time in his life he feels safe in an alpha's embrace.

"That's good. Come on, sip some water for me to wash away that bad taste."

The omega prince doesn't really know if the alpha is using his alpha's voice, or if he's already scentdrunk or whatever, but the only thing he wants to do is obey this alpha.

Steve spits a few times to clean his mouth from the horrible taste and then drinks some water, while the alpha keeps holding him tight.

The man’s wearing a beaten armor, stained with blood, and for a moment Steve wonders if he will kill him, but the way he keeps holding him makes him think that he’s affected by Steve’s scent as he is from his.

They aren't left alone for long. When Steve turns his head someone is riding toward them. Too many people.

Steve turns toward the alpha with eyes wide with worry, "You have to go. My future husband will kill you. He's a warlord! He won't be pleased you kidnapped me!"

"Kidnapped?" The alpha asks, staring with confusion at the omega, feeling Steve's head with gentle fingers, "How badly did they hurt you, omega?" he asks worriedly, and this time is Steve's turn to frown in confusion.

“I might not look so but I’m a prince. And I was on my way to wed the Forest Park’s Warlord's son. If they catch you, they’ll kill you.”

Eddie bursts out in a loud laugh, shaking Steve who quietly complains of being jostled by the huge Alpha's body.

"Let me introduce myself," the alpha says, grabbing Steve's uninjured hand and kissing the palm of his hand in the most chivalrous way, "I'm Edward Munson, King Munson's nephew, your betrothal."

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tofics · 9 months ago

Text

Broken - Chapter 5

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: A year has passed since Joel and Ellie have returned to Jackson when he finds you on patrol, half frozen and half burning up. Jackson takes you in and nurses you back to health, welcoming you as the newest member of their community. The more time passes, Joel realizes that you and him have more in common than he likes… Until one day, everything changes and you get a gift that he’ll never get.

Word Count: 6472 words

Warnings: feelings of shame, mention of child death, developing feelings and the uncertainty that comes with that, crying, cuddling, and, at long last, fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

A/N: Brace yourselves, for this is the quiet that comes before the storm. This was so hard to write because the pain of the reader and Joel stands so much at the forefront and going into lighter, happier feelings beyond that requires such a drastic mindset change 😮‍💨 I'm pretty satisfied with the outcome though. I hope you enjoy! And, remember, come Friday, Aug. 16th, we're back on a regular posting schedule! 😊

Chapter 5 - New Leafs and Old Foes

"Hoooo, eaaaasy there girl, easy." The mare neighs nervously and raises on its hindlegs. You stop your movement, but don't retreat, instead digging your heels deeper into the mud. Opposite of you, Savannah, the stable's keeper, is mirroring your moves, struggling to stay upright in the slick mud as she tugs on the mare's reins. The animal comes down with a thump and sprays the both of you with specks of sludge as she neighs again, her panicked eyes flicking back and forth between you and your helper.

"Easy now, girl, easy." The calmness of your voice finally seems to register with the panicked animal when her eyes flit back to you and lock on you. Her nostrils flare and she shifts on her legs uneasily, but her hoofs remain on the ground. You gonna work with me, girl? You convey the question with your eyes, a silent exchange between the two of you. It takes a moment, but eventually you notice the horse's body language shift - the 'yes' you were waiting for.

The animal is still panting, but she allows your touch when you run your flat hand over her strong neck. "Atta girl." She snorts in response to your whispered soothing appraisals and you can't help but smile.

"What are you, the horse whisperer or something?" Savannah carefully slips the reins into your hand with a big grin.

"Call me Robert Redford, sweetheart." You tip your imaginary cowboy hat in her direction with a wink.

"Phew, she ain't half bad, hu?" Tommy whistles through his teeth and you turn at the sound, giving the two brothers a small smile and wave in response.

Joel just grunts, but smiles back at you with a nod of his head.

"Don't think I don't saw that." Tommys voice matches the foolish grin on his face.

"Don't know what you're talkin' about. Ain't nothing to see." Joel clicks his tongue and leads his horse into the stable, away from the paddock where your little show took place. Once they're inside his stallion's box, he takes off the saddle and the halter, placing both on their respective mounts in the stable.

"Hey, no shame in fallin' in love, brother." Tommy's voice drifts over from the box next to Joel's. "After all," - his head pops up over the barrier, plastered with the same silly grin as before - "wouldn't dream of judgin' you when I'm guilty of the same crime." He sticks his left hand in the air and pointedly twirls the golden band on his ring finger.

Joel snorts but doesn't shoot back. Instead he heads back outside into the fresh spring air. It's one of those days that make it look like summer, all sparkling blue sky dotted with fleecy clouds and warm sunshine, but set one foot into a shadowy area and you're back in winter, with wind that's still got a sharp bite to it and temperatures that'll have your teeth chattering.

Joel tugs his on the collar of his jacket as he approaches the paddock's fencing, trying to shield himself from the chilly breeze that blows past the stable's shadowy entrance. It won't take more than an hour, but for now, only one half of the paddock is glistening in the sun, the trampled mud and sludge sparkling in the warm rays where the rain water has collected in little pools.

"C'mon, baby, c'mon. That's it. Atta girl." Your voice dances through the air and Joel watches the latest addition to the stable trot alongside you with ease, the panic of just a few minutes ago seemingly forgotten. It doesn't surprise him in the least. Your lures are so sweet, not only by word but by sound, delivered in a soft and light trill that could fit right in with the chirps of the birds that are coming out more and more each day. 'Talk to me like that, and I'd follow you anywhere too,' he thinks and feels the immediate internal backlash.

For fuck's sake. Get it together.

Of course Joel knows what Tommy's talking about. He's caught himself in moments like these one too many times not to know. That doesn't mean he has to admit it, though. Nor does he have to like it.

It's been a long time since anyone stirred something inside of him the way you do. There was Tess - she and him had been partners, both in business and in bed, but there had been nothing romantic about it. What he had with her was different, more down-to-the-point oriented. In business terms, it was a perfect match. She was the social baseline to their partnership, yet no less ruthless than Joel. He sometimes admired her for it, how she held on to that part of herself that made her more human. He lost touch with that side of him for years and had no interest in rebuilding it, not until he met Ellie anyway. She's softened him and brought him back to life in ways he didn't think were possible anymore.

So perhaps it shouldn't be that big of a surprise that you do something to him. And you have, from the start. Joel's not one to care for other people's business unless it's somehow related to him, and yet, he has found himself wondering about you time and time again. You mostly keep to yourself, but you're amazing with Ellie. You seem to share his love for silence, but you can easily talk his ear off if he gets you going on the right topic.

But more than that - and perhaps, most importantly so - he sees something in you that reminds him of himself, in the most painful way. He can see you trying to hide it around Ellie, but your occasional shut-downs never go undetected by him. Thankfully, you haven't had any meltdowns since that one time, but there are smaller signs of when you retreat somewhere into the back of your mind. The smile on your face becomes less genuine, like a cheap knock-off version of the real deal. Your eyes cloud over and lose the vibrancy they usually shine with. And sometimes, your arm wanders over your chest and digs into your other arm, like you're trying with all your might to hold yourself together.

Those moments are the worst for you, as far as he can tell. He's found himself wanting to reach over and gently losen the grip you have on your arm, to hold your hand and let it squeeze him instead, but of course he doesn't. Joel doesn't think it's his place, or if you'd even want him to. He never asks. He doesn't know how. And it's pissing him off.

He feels like a goddamn teenager all over again, and those years are well behind him. Hell, he's currently got a teenager at home, he's got no business acting the way he does. But it's just like it was back then, all those years ago. You come into his proximity and boom. It's like he's on fire. His palms break out into a sweat and his heart is hammering in his chest. It's pathetic, the way your sheer presence sometimes reduces him to a sixteen year old hormonal boy, when his real age is twice that and then some.

Worse than that, despite being thrice the age of a teenager, he's apparently about as good at hiding his crush as he was back then. Thankfully, Ellie hasn't caught on to it - yet, she likely wouldn't let him hear the end of it - and as far as he can tell, neither have you, but Maria keeps looking at him funny and this isn't Tommy's first comment regarding you either. Leave it to his brother to rat him out to his wife.

Flipping his collar back down, Joel exposes his neck to the chilled air around him in hopes of it having the same effect as a cold shower. Lord knows he could need one.

You feel Joel‘s gaze on you before you spot him leaning against the fence, looking better than he should be allowed to. A faint memory of some women’s magazine’s article pops up in the back of your head, something about how the entirety of an outfit should never consist of just jeans, and yet you couldn’t disagree more. Dressed in a lined denim jacket and a pair of pants made of the same fabric, he looks more like a catalogue model than a failed fashion ensemble. The cowboy hat he's been wearing lately sits on his salt and pepper hair, rounding off the ensemble like a cherry on top.

"Howdy, partner," you call out and watch with satisfaction as a small smile plays out on Joel's face. He tries to hide it in the same way he often pretends not to be amused by Ellie's jokes, pushing his bottom lip out and biting down on it from the inside. Clearly he's unaware of how little it's working, or how terribly adorable he looks doing it.

"Mornin'," he replies when you've almost reached the fence, the remnants of his hidden smile still visible in the twitching corners of his mouth.

The mare behind you snorts uneasily and you take a step back to softly pat her neck, but your eyes stay on Joel. "Patrol all done?"

"Mh-hmm. Haven't seen you on patrol in a while." The way he says it, it sounds like an unspoken question, and you understand why.

When you had begged Maria to take you off patrol, she had agreed instantly, probably persuaded (and somewhat concerned) by the cascade of tears running down your face. "Did something happen?," she had asked, the question loaded with the unspoken add-on of 'with Joel' and you just shook your head no, a wordless workaround for the very lengthy real answer you didn't have the strength to give, nor had the right words for. After all, how could you explain that what had brought you to her doorstep wasn't a miss-step on Joel's side, but a melt-down on yours and the subsequent overwhelming shame of Joel not only having been a witness, but the one to have helped you through it? A 'no' was just so much easier, and even though Maria didn't look like she fully believed you, she took you off patrol and gave you the day off, with the reminder that you could come talk to her about anything, anytime.

The next morning, you were back on Tommy and Maria's doorstep, asking if you could be placed with livestock care instead. You were nowhere nearly fully-recovered, but shame and worry had driven you out of your house and back to theirs. You weren't gonna be a leech, living off of other people's hard work. No matter how low you felt, you were determined to contribute to this community - preferably somewhere that wasn't right next to Joel. Tommy was eyeing you suspiciously, concern written all over his face, and a vague memory of him showing up behind Joel's house while you were 'chopping firewood' popped into the back of your head. The blood rushed to your head and painted you a deep shade of red, but you withstood his gaze regardless. Not a day later, you started at the stables. You haven't been back to patrol since.

"Remember how you said you thought I would be working with the animals, given my background on a farm? Well, turns out you were on to something. I didn't know how much I missed it until I was right back in it." You smile at him and try to ignore the feeling of guilt that's trying to take hold in your stomach. Even though you know you don't 'owe' Joel an explanation, the last thing you want is for him to be thinking you're avoiding him.

Especially if the opposite is true.

You're thriving in your new job placement, there's no denying that. You can't even really take credit for the idea either - it was simply the first thing you could think of in the heat of the moment, a fluke, really, but in a weird, cosmical-fate-kind-of-way, it looks like your abrupt change of profession has landed you exactly where you need to be. The work has a sense of familiarity about it that - for once (miraculously) - doesn't bring about pain. Instead, the smell of hay and manure takes you back to your childhood farm's stables, and so many of your daily tasks come naturally to you, your hands seemingly moving on their own accord through muscle memory. Sure, it's far more labor-intensive than any of your patrols have been and a lot smellier - most days, you come home covered in tiny flakes of straw and various spots of god-knows-what on your clothing, reeking of manure, wool and hay, but you don't mind. Somehow, feeling the day's work in your bones and carrying the evidence of your labor on your clothes helps you feel a sense of achievement at the end of a day, something that you didn't have on your patrols. On top of that, the body-intensive work seems to be a tremendous help with your insomnia: more often now than not, it takes you a lot less time to fall asleep. From all of your job's perks, this might just be your personal favorite.

There is only one downside to your new work arrangement, and ironically, it's the very reason you ditched patrols in the first place:

You don't get to see Joel as much as you did before.

You only managed to avoid him for a couple of days after the 'incident' before he tracked you down and set you right. It hadn't been enough time to properly work through the aftermath of your meltdown, so even though he made a point of saying you had nothing to be embarrassed about, shame and guilt stayed glued to you for days, despite your various tries to rid yourself of them. They were most present when he was present, a walking and talking reminder of who you'd bared your insides to in one of your weakest moments, and you found it easier to work through your feelings when Joel wasn't around. Your new job came in quite handy that way.

And then of course, there was that kiss on your forehead that you kept and keep thinking about, no matter how much you try not to. It added to the pile of feelings you had to sort through, spicing up the mix by adding very conflicting emotions.

On one hand, thinking back to the gentle gesture makes something tiny flutter in your belly, a sensation you're not sure you've ever truly felt before. Sure, there have been men in your life, but most of these arrangements were just that, arrangements, a means-to-an-end, an offering of yourself in exchange for safety or food. By some miracle, your life in Jackson has no need for arrangements like that. You still have your doubts about your safety, although that's more of a general concern that applies to the safety of Jackson as a whole, rather than concerns in regards to specific members of Jackson. Men are no longer a double-edged sword that can provide safety or be what you need protecting from, they're suddenly an option. It's a concept that is entirely new to you and that you weren't thinking about in the least, until that goddamn kiss on your forehead.

That kiss has opened up a world of possibilities you never previously had the luxury of even thinking about, and now, you can't stop thinking about it. It's come to a point where you only have to be in Joel's proximity to feel that tiny flutter in your belly. It's both delightful and entirely terrifying, so much so that you find yourself in a constant, sometimes overlapping loop of wanting to be close to Joel and wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

"Yeah well, I get it. Might've won against one horse, but an entire farm's worth of livestock? I can't compete with that." There's a glint in Joel's eyes, a small playful twinkle that creases the corners of his eyes and tugs on his lips and you can't help but laugh.

"Oh, don't sell yourself short now. You could've taken on two horses easily, maybe even three. It's the cows that are my weak-spot. You never stood a chance against those."

Joel's hand dramatically clutches at his chest as if you just delivered a blow to it. "Oof. Did what I could, though. Gotta know when to quit."

There it is again, that little flutter in your belly as you giggle and hit his arm playfully. It warms your belly and sends warmth up into your nose, your cheeks and your ears, even your hands and fingers. The skin that touched his jacket on impact is tingling and you suddenly have the strange urge to lay a hand on the jeans material again, though this time more softly and not in a rushed smack.

The impulse is so bizarre to you that you quickly withdraw your hand and tighten your clutch on the reins again. "Better get this lady inside her box. She's had quite the eventful morning."

The town hall is already bustling when you arrive. Although town meetings are open to everyone in Jackson, attendance isn't required unless you've been summoned, so the audience usually consists of Jackson's adults, with just a few of the kids and teens here and there.

Tonight is no different. As expected, quite a few seats are already occupied, but some of the backrows still have some free spots. Just when you choose one - close to the aisle, and, conveniently, close to the back exit - Evelyn claps her hands together. "Okay, let's get started, everyone." Just like any good classroom back in the day, everyone quiets down quickly until you can only hear the occasional foot shuffle or coughing.

"Thank you. I hereby declare this town meeting open. Gary, it's your turn." Evelyn takes her seat in the half-circle that's positioned so it faces the crowd and motions towards one of her neighbors.

Town meetings always follow the same structure. Someone on the council opens the meeting by giving an overview of the last month. This includes all kinds of stats: how that month's harvest went, animal count, town incidents (if any took place) or patrol reports about infected sightings or run-ins with raiders. Presumably, this is also the segment in which they provided updates about your health, back when you first arrived in Jackson. As far as journalism goes, this is the closest to a news source that Jackson has.

The news segment is followed by the 'open floor'. For this part, people can bring forward their nuisances that they were unable to resolve on their own. Just like the town meeting itself, this segment is open to every inhabitant of the town, council members included. You have yet to see a serious issue be brought up for this segment, but that speaks for the town's conflict management. Most people hash it out between themselves, and if anything does land in front of the council, it's typically something small or petty, like a drunken dispute or a missed shift.

The last item on the agenda tends to be the most interesting one: pending tasks, jobs and missions.

As with any town, small tasks and jobs can come up that are out-of-the-ordinary or temporary, yet no less urgent or to be overlooked. According to Joel, this is where they sometimes offer special rewards, depending on the appeal of the task. So far, there has been nothing in this segment that's caught your attention, but this part always has you on high alert.

You lean forward in anticipation as Tommy reads out a few smaller tasks that need to be taken care of, waiting for a good catch for yourself.

Surprisingly, you don't have to wait very long.

Joel's not a huge fan of town meetings. They tend to bore him, but he attends them anyway, mostly for Tommy and Maria and because it's good to get updates about the town once in a while. For today's meeting, there might have been the additional motivational factor of you being there, but he tries not to think about that too much.

Joel comes in as one of the last people. Most seats are already taken, but he doesn't mind, preferring to stand anyway.

Although you sit with your back to him, he spots you almost instantly, the backside of you standing out to him as if someone's casting a spotlight on you.

The meeting drones on, and Joel only half listens as he's leaning against one of the wooden pillars. His eyes wander across the room periodically, taking in Jackson's people as they react to news and chatter amongst themselves occasionally. It's a good way to get a read of the room, a habit he picked up in Boston and hasn't been able to shake yet. Despite Jackson being relatively safe, he still feels the need to get a feel for the current mood of Jackson's inhabitants. Never know when things might turn sour.

There's no denial about where his eyes wander most frequently. Every time he catches himself, he averts his gaze and hopes you don't feel him staring holes into the back of your head, just to repeat the process a couple of minutes later. You seem pretty relaxed, judging by your body language, until it's Tommy's turn to announce upcoming tasks and missions. He might have missed if you weren't secretly the center of his attention, but he immediately catches the way you lean forward when Tommy begins to speak.

"As Gary mentioned, one of our cows passed away at the start of the month. We knew it was coming and we hoped she'd pull through the winter, and bless that girl, she did. Still, we're one cow short now, and that just won't do. We'd like to put together a crew of at least two people to scour the nearby towns and places we last knew to hold some cows, see if any of them are still there. Any takers?"

To Joel's surprise, your hand flies up almost instantly.

Adding to his surprise, he feels his own hand raising before he even knows what he's doing.

Tommy's mouth twitches as his eyes land on his big brother. "And it looks like we got two volunteers!" You turn around in your seat, following Tommy's gaze to somewhere behind yourself before your eyes lock with Joel's. Joel can see the surprise on your face and something else that he can't quite place, and for a second, he's worried he's overstepped. "Perfect. We'll hash the details out later in person." Tommy nods to you and then to Joel, still clearly trying to hide a smirk behind quivering lips. "Okay, moving on. Angelo's caught a cold, so we need someone to take over his shift at the school..."

Tommy's voice fades into the background. Your eyes are still locked on Joel's, the same unreadable expression on your face.

Done messed up now, Joel thinks and has the urge to bang his head against the wooden pillar he's leaning on.

But just then - miraculously - you smile.

Tommy keeps his instructions brief: checkout all last known cow-locations and only bring one back if the circumstances allow for it. You are not to risk your life for that of a cow.

He spends more time repeating that last clause than he does going over the initial plan.

"Do you have a history of saving cows or something?," you ask Joel on your way to the supplies shelter. He responds with something of a chuckle and a scoff.

"Just saying, sounded like he was particularly worried about you risking your life for a cow, of all things."

"Yeah? Who says that wasn't directed at you? Ain't me that's workin' in livestock after all." Joel looks at you with half a smile and you feel that little tingle in your belly respond immediately.

How am I going to survive an entire mission next to this man?, you think and feel the slightest pink seeping into your cheeks.

"Maybe, but he was looking at you the entire time. Am I gonna have to drag you out of there if we see a cow being attacked by infected? I'm just asking so I know what to expect, you know. To prepare."

His snort is paired with a slight eye-roll and you giggle like the little school-girl he makes you feel like.

Betsy gets the two of you sorted with all the supplies you could need. An assortment of ropes, fire-starting-kits, cans of food and a health-kit is already littered on the large table in the middle as she adds two small sleeping bags.

"Now Joel, I know you've been on runs before, so you know how this goes. Y'all can go over to the weapon's den and get whatever y'all fancy. This right here is to cover the survival aspect of it all." Betsy chatters along while she continues to pile supplies onto the table. "Y'all don't gotta take everythin' we hand out, but it's highly recommended that you do. I don't think I gotta say this, but whatever you use up is gone, so make sure you find spares unless you wanna be fresh out of somethin'. Wouldn't complain if you bring back a few extras of whatever I give you either, but it's not a must. I know what it's like out there. I'll just be glad when you two come home safe."

You nod along while you examine everything she puts out on to the table. This is worth gold. Everything you could think of is accounted for, and then some.

You can't help but think that some people out there would kill for a set-up like this. If people knew about Jackson...

"Okay, one more thing." Betsy walks into the adjoining room and returns with a packed up tent in her arms. "It ain't big, but I expect y'all won't mind that, 'specially with temperatures still droppin' below freezin' at night. I reckon y'all might wanna snuggle up, for warmth and all."

You feel the tips of your ears burning while the rest of your face hurries to catch on, coloring you a deep shade of red. Snuggle with Joel. Betsy might as well have suggested you could kiss for warmth with the way you feel about the suggestion. Awkward, definitely, but worse: excited.

Crap crap crap.

You discreetly glance sideways at Joel who appears to be looking anywhere at you, then becomes intensely interested in one of the backpacks Betsy is offering. It might be your imagination, but you could swear that Joel's ears look a lot more flushed than normally.

You start off into your mission early the next morning while it's still dark out. Tommy sees you off at the gate.

"Y'all got everything you need?"

The two of you nod.

"Good. Be back safe. Watch out for each other." Tommy gives a sign to the men manning the door and they crack it open just enough so you and Joel can slip through on your horses.

It's a misty morning and the damp cold seems to find every little hole in your clothing to seep through. Your breath comes out in puffy little white clouds and you thank yourself for having remembered your gloves.

Joel leads the way. Tommy had the route all mapped out for you already, although he agreed to alterations where needed. "The two of you have been out there long enough to know when to trust your gut. If anything feels off, feel free to adjust the route accordingly. Ain't no sense in sticking to a plan if it gets y'all killed," he'd said.

For now, you stick to his pre-planned route and head south-west. The first stop on your map, an old ranch called 'Spring Creek' is just two hours out.

Neither of you speak much during your ride there.

But instead of the awkward silence you were worried about, there's a mutual understanding of enjoyed silence between the two of you that you developed on your patrols together.

Spring Creek turns out to be a bust, which surprises neither of you. 'Lucky' is not really something that's in the cards anymore in this world, as you're both well aware of.

The next stop on the map is less than half an hour away, located not far of the bridge that leads over the Snake River. It's a gorgeous place, once a park and now entirely reclaimed by nature, with the first signs of game here and there, but not a cow in sight.

By the time evening rolls around, you've made it across the river and into what used to be Wilson. Supposedly, there's an old farm a little further out of town if you head west.

When Joel suggests that you save the ranch for the next day, you have no trouble agreeing considering how little daylight you have left. You let your horses trot along the highway until you reach the outskirts of town that's framed nicely by a small forest. Joel leads his horse off the road and onto the open field to where the grass meets the trees.

"Looks like pretty thick foliage. Ain't no getting through with these horses. I'd say we make camp out here. Foliage should have our backs covered nicely, and we got a clear view into each direction over the field. Whaddaya say?"

The light of your small fire dances across your face in the dark, flames leaping over your eyebrows and then cowering beneath your cheekbones, only to lick up the side of your skull in the next second.

Joel watches the fiery dance on your features and finds himself wishing he could be the one to caress your face instead of the flames, trailing your skin with the pads of his fingers the same way the light does.

Although the day's journey was uneventful, all of his senses are on high-alert. Your presence is like a steady hum in the back of his mind. It started out fine this morning, just the spark of excitement he's now used to getting when you come into his proximity. But it has progressed throughout the day, steadily gaining in size and momentum during the shared hours together. Whatever you do to him, it's pulling him towards you like a moth is drawn to the light. If you were a candle in the morning, by now, you shine as bright as the sun.

"Tell me somethin' about yourself," he hears himself say. You look up from the fire and meet his gaze, a lazy smile on your lips. "Like what?"

"Anythin'." Joel wants to know it all. You're the puzzle he can't piece together but can't put on a shelf either. He's tried, and not just once. He tried it after your first patrol together. He tried it after you became a steady guest in his house, bringing warmth and humor with you anytime you came. Joel stepped out of the fuzzy feeling you ignited in him every night, neatly folded it and put it on the shelf in the back of his mind where things go to be forgotten, only to find himself wearing it again the next time he saw you at the dining hall or at his kitchen table.

He can fool himself all he wants, but your presence brings out the truth in him regardless, no matter what he tells himself.

"That's a broad frame."

"I have a broad interest." In you. Joel doesn't add the words, but they hang in the air regardless, almost as bright and shiny as the fire between the two of you. Joel wonders whether you can see them as clearly as he can.

You smile again and fiddle with the zipper of your jacket while you think. "You already know most of it," you finally say and Joel almost calls out bullshit, because he doesn't, not by a longshot. His knowledge on you is filled with gaps, a cloze he desperately wants to fill.

"Then tell me something I don't know yet," he says instead. Questions are piling up on his tongue, but he's biting them down.

What is that sadness that fills you on some days?

and

Do you, God forbid, know the same loss I do?

He sees it mirrored in you, the desperation and soul-wrecking-pain that comes with the loss of a child. It leaves a special kind of imprint that never really goes away, just grows over a little bit, if you're lucky, but it's always still there. Joel's sure he sees it in you, that he recognizes your pain as his own and his heart breaks at the thought of it, of what he thinks you lost, of what he lost himself.

How can I ease your pain?

Will you let me ease your pain?

Joel watches you think again, trying hard to come up with something to tell him that won't reveal too much. He knows the look. He wore it himself for years, not letting anybody close enough to read between the lines.

"You know I had a kid?" Your head perks up and he can see your eyes growing wide in surprise, pupils large and dark.

"A daughter. Name's Sarah." He feels the sting in his chest that always comes out when he talks about her for the first time. It pierces his heart with the same relentless white hot pain, but his flesh is used to it and has adapted over the years. A thick lining of tissue has grown around the spot where the dagger pierces through his skin every time he opens his wound anew. It never truly heals, never hurts any less. It does, however, take less time for the pain to subside now.

Joel takes a few deep breaths as he waits for the pain in his chest to die down. He feels your eyes still trained on him and watching him closely.

"She died the day of the outbreak. A soldier... shot her." He has to press the words out so they don't get stuck in his throat and suffocate him.

A twig snaps and bursts and sends up a shower of sparks into the cold dark air. Joel stares into the fire and waits for the pain to subside as another dagger pierces his chest.

It takes a while for his words to sink in. They bob around of the surface of your consciousness, like paper ships freshly put on water. You watch as they slowly grow heavier and begin to sink, the full weight of his words hitting you more with each word that fills up and eventually sinks to the ground of your mind where you finally grasp their meaning.

He lost a child.

Suddenly it all makes sense.

The way he sometimes looks at you with a sense of understanding that you've never been able to place before.

The way he took care of you on the day of your outburst, no questions asked.

You and her, you got the same kind of twitchy. Tommy's voice echoes in your skull and your vision blurs.

You realize you're crying.

The tears spill out of your eyes before you can stop them, a testament of your own pain, understood in the most horrible way.

You cross the fire in two big strides and fall to your knees in front of Joel where you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his shoulder.

You hold him tight, hands digging into his jacket in an effort to pull him as close as possible, while your tears soak into his shoulder. And then his arms wrap around you in return, holding you with the same feverish intensity that you're holding him with.

"I am so, so sorry," you whisper against his jacket when your tears have dried up enough for you to speak. His answer comes in the form of a kiss on the top of your head, and despite the situation, a shower of warmth rains down your spine from where his lips met your hair.

"I wish I could've met her."

"I wish you could've met her too."

The longer you keep holding on to each other, the more the tenseness leaves your body. The pain lingers, a dull throbbing sensation in your chest that is just all too familiar, but your muscles slowly loosen and you begin to melt into his embrace.

It feels almost shameful, finding pleasure in something that was born out of something so gruesome.

Joel detects the way you slowly wind down and allows himself to run a thumb over your back in small circles.

He holds you and is held back in the dancing light of the fire under the stars until the fire burns down and wishes this would never end.

Maybe he's been through enough. Maybe he's finally endured enough pain for a lifetime, because for once, the universe grants him his wish, and it doesn't end.

When he feels you snaking out of his embrace, his heart drops, his body already missing your touch where it pressed against him, but before he can mourn the moment, you're extending a hand to him.

You lead him into the tent, and his head is spinning, swimming with possibilities that seem too faint and outrageous to even reach before you open up one of the sleeping bags and slip inside, motioning for him to join you.

It takes a moment, but eventually, your sleeping bags are joined up into one large one. Joel's a broad man and sleeping bags are a tight fit on him as is, but with you pressed against his side, he could be getting strangled to death for all he cares.

You settle against him with your head on his shoulder and one arm wrapped around his belly and Joel feels like he's dreaming. He has half a mind to voice his concerns - "What about taking watch?" - but then your finger touches his lips and he ascends to heaven, the first man to be alive and knocking on heaven's door at the same time. "Not a single soul around all day. We're good," you whisper and lay your hand against Joel's cheek, where you draw the same slow circles he drew on your back earlier.

Maybe Tommy's right, is the last thing Joel thinks before he falls asleep. Maybe there's no shame in falling in love.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

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dronebiscuitbat · 9 months ago

Text

Flight Practice

Aug 14th, MD Week, Prompt "Flight"

“Um… N?” Uzi's voice was warbly and wary, peering down over the top of a building into the jungle of jagged concrete below, the only light being the ethereal glow of the gas giant and it's orbiting moon to illuminate the broken city.

“Yes?” Her companion replied, cheer written into the base-code of his voice no matter his mood. His silvery hair taking on an almost angelic appearance in the light, a halo of golden lights above his head that served as his eyes. His visor displayed two golden ovals, and his mouth was upturned in a beaming smile.

“I don't know about this.” Uzi looked back at him with her purple eyelights displaying her apprehension, her purple locks becoming slightly disheveled in the breeze, a beanie keeping most of it safe, though her mouth downturn into a frown.

You see, she'd asked N tentatively to give her flying lessons after a sudden and violent transformation that had her murdering and eating a good portion of her classmates during a school trip. And since then, she'd been itching to learn how to use her new wings.

She just… kinda expected them to start on the ground.

“This is the best way to learn how to fly! If you're already high up, then we've already gotten halfway there, right?” N kept his chipper attitude, circling behind her and leaning down to be eye level. Uzi wasn't so confident… the ground looked a long way away.

“I don't even know how to take off! What if I fall?” She replied, throwing her hands forwards and gesturing to the 40 story drop that was laid out in front of her. The disassembly drone in front of her chuckling in return, his much larger frame contrasting with her much smaller one.

“Then I'll catch you.” He assured, releasing his own, bladed wings from his back, making him look all the more angelic as light filtered through them.

Uzi herself took a deep breath, looking back down at the drop before her, and her companion put a heavy, metallic hand on her shoulder.

“You've got this, and I'll be here every step of the way to get you through it. Okay?” He smiled down at her, golden eyes soft and kind as he cocked his head like some curious puppy.

Uzi felt heat come to invade her face, violet LEDs lit up on her visor to mimic a human blush, and she averted her eyes to the concrete roof to avoid looking at him any longer.

“Okay. Fine.” She huffed, only making her much more cheerful companion smile brighter, showing off his fangs.

“First step, bring out your wings.” He backed away gently flapping his own wings in her direction while gesturing to her, she looked down at herself before squeezing her eyes shut and focusing hard on trying to summon her own wings.

She pushed and pushed, but nothing was happening except her face turning more purple as she tried harder and harder, the joints on her mechanical body groaned as she strained them, and small beads of sweat formed on the inside of her visor.

“Woah, Woah! Hey, don't blow a gasket!” N crouched down in front of her, both hands on each of her shoulders as he flashed her a wary smile, “What’s up buddy?”

“Uh… I don’t know how to bring them out, I wasn’t really trying to last time.” Uzi explained, bring her hands together to wring them as N put his thumb and finger underneath his chin, sticking his tongue out as he thought. Uzi couldn’t help but laugh at how silly he looked, which may have been the entire point in him doing it.

“Well… maybe think about how it felt to have them out? Not hungry, obviously, but maybe something you enjoyed while having them out?” He suggested, backing away once more, “Whenever I want my wings, I just think about how nice it is to fly around!”

Something she enjoyed? It wasn’t a lot. She was terrified out of her mind when she’d been transformed and went crazy.

Though… even though they had been falling, talking with N had been really nice, he’d been so understanding, and didn’t once judge her or look scared…

“Hey! You did it!” She heard him exclaim, and she opened her eyes in surprise, not even realizing she’d closed them, she looked backwards and found the dull purple, tattered looking bat wings unfurled from her back, her tail was out too, looking at her curiously. She gave the wings an experimental flap, stretching them out and examining them.

“Awesome! Now all you have to do is crouch down-“ He crouched down, wings spreading out behind him before he lept up into the air with a single mighty flap, sending the newest layer of snow that had fallen onto the roof out in all directions. “-and jump while giving your wings a good flap, you don’t have anti-grav though, so make sure to keep flapping!”

She did her best to mimic his pose from before, crouching down and spreading her wings out behind her, in contrast to him, the lighting did her little favor, instead of being angelic her leathery wings made her look more demonic, the veins within the thin membrane shining through.

Then she jumped, trying to time her flap to be at the same time. And found herself going forward and upwards quickly, she felt herself smile, she did it! She took off! That wasn’t so hard!

Until the second and third flap, where momentum and inexperience caught her off balance and she went tumbling forward into a spin, hurtling to the ground at high speeds.

“OOOOH SHIIIIIIIIIIT” She yelled as she flapped her wings frantically to try and right herself, only causing her to spin faster and making her dizzy, she saw each story fly past her at insane speeds, this was it, she was going to go splat on ancient pavement and be nothing but a black stain on the ground.

She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable, but found it never came. Instead, she landed in a pair of large arms and a warm chassis, which she immediately and instinctively grabbed onto like a cat about to come into contact with water. She trembled as she wrapped her arms and legs around her savior, not caring if she looked silly or not at the moment.

“Well you took off! You just couldn’t stay up…” N laughed, finding a golden blush gracing his face at their proximity, it wasn’t often Uzi was affectionate, even if at the moment that was due to fear. “You good?”

“Y-yeah.” She replied, unconvincingly, and when they reached the top of the building again she was reluctant to let him go, at least until it became slightly awkward and she forced herself to.

“Maybe we can try another way?” N hummed, looking out over the city until a figurative lightbulb appeared over his head. “Hey, I have an idea!”

He bent down in front of her, and pointed to his back, a beaming smile on his face. “Hop on!”

Uzi blushed once more, looking away and out over the building before sighing and clambering onto his back, where his hands came to grip onto her legs, and they took off into the sky, going even higher then before.

“Okay Uzi, spread your wings!” He said once they were gliding high up over the layer of thick fog that clung to the buildings below them, Uzi felt her nerves alight as she looked down.

“What?! It’ll create too much drag! I’ll fly off!” She yelped, gripping onto him more tightly then before.

“No you won’t, trust me!” She grumbled, squeezing her eyes shut and spreading her wings, slowly letting go of N as she felt herself suddenly become weightless.

“Open your eyes!” N’s voice was somewhere below her, and reluctantly she did, finding herself gliding unaided, her wings stretched out above her and the wind whipping up around her, held up by her own wingspan.

“N! I’m flying!” She belted, not feeling this excited once in her entire life, sure she was loosing altitude slowly, but the feeling of the wind underneath her wings was so… freeing.

“Kinda! You’re gliding! Now try flapping!” He was flying belly up, ignoring the laws of physics with his anti-grav just so he could remain where she could see him, and he could remain in saving distance should she start falling again.

She flapped once, the air catching underneath her and bringing her upwards, she smiled as she was brought up closer to the clouds, and found herself laughing as she did it a few more times, enough so that her back touched the underside of a cloud and her wings parted it, leaving her mark on it.

N came up directly below her, smiling as she began to let herself loose altitude, giving her two dorky thumbs up as she giggled at him, a blush on her face she didn’t even try to hide.

“You’re doing great! You can angle your wings to go left and right!”

She did as she was told, tilting her wings so that she tilted left and right as she glided through the air, she got more confident, getting used to the feeling underneath her wings.

“This is amazing!”

N had never seen his friend this happy, and she was doing miraculously well for someone with as little experience as she had, he laughed as she figured out how to force herself downwards, gaining a little bit of speed as she went.

“Just be careful, it’s kinda foggy and any lower there might be-“ A building whipped past him, startling them both as they both looked ahead. Tall dark shapes stretched out before them, hidden by the fog but even from here they could tell that the buildings were dense. -“BUILDINGS!”

N switched over to flying belly down, using his sensors to try to map his way through the quickly approaching buildings even through he couldn’t see them very well, he tried to look for Uzi, but couldn't find her before he had to dodge another building.

Oh no… there was no way Uzi was going to get through all these buildings with her experience, and he couldn't slow down in time without risking hitting a building himself, he frantically looked around, trying to place her.

Finally, he did, just in time to see her come face to face with a dense fallen buildings, and he readied himself to go to catch her when she clipped one.

Only she never did.

She zipped past the first one, expertly gliding into a small hole and popping out the other side completely unscathed. N was taken aback, impressed with the skill.

A flag pole came into view in front of her and she angled her wings to flip over it, body arching to move out of the way and ending facing the same way she started, her face was determined and focused.

It was so… foreign. The way she moved.

He was much too heavy to consider moves like that, dodging buildings at high speeds were difficult, even for him. But she was light enough and small enough to flit over and through buildings no problem.

Another collapsed building got in her way, and instead of trying to dodge it, she scrabbled up it on all fours before taking off again, gliding from building to building without thinking twice.

It was like watching a dance, and he couldn't help the gold tinting his cheeks as he watched her spin into the air to glide through a shattered window, she was beautiful… she was-

“Agh!” He crashed headfirst into a building, chassis crumpling painfully as all of his forward momentum was suddenly stopped by a surprisingly solid concrete wall, the wall cracked when he made contact with it, creating a loud and echoed crack!

And he fell, systems going dark before he hit the ground…

… Rebooting …

“N! Oh robo-god, are you okay!?” There was a voice calling his name and flurried movement above him, every joint and plate he passed ached, and his mouth was uncomfortably dry.

“Eugh…” Was the first noise he made, voice plagued by radio-static and a million miles away, Something thick, warm, and sweet entered his mouth, making him sigh in relief.

His visuals became more clear a moment later as his nanites repaired his flattened body, Uzi was hoving over him, completely unharmed as she held a worker drone arm in her hand, it was still leaking oil. Though her visor was streaked with worry.

“Holy hell, you scared me! Your visor was dark for twenty minutes, I thought you were dead!” Her violet eyelights were filled with tears threatening to fall, and despite feeling like he'd been crushed in a compactor, he couldn't help but feel his core-beat speed up at the though she'd been so worried over him.

“Nah… M’fine. Been through worse.” He croaked put, even though he couldn't remember another time where he could feel his arm snapping back from being turned the exact wrong way.

“How did you hit something and I didn't?” She asked, after another minute of checking him over and seeing all the places his nanites were repairing.

He blushed, so his visor must be fully functional again.

“Oh uh… I got distracted…” He smiled, though awkwardly, now probably wasn't the time to tell her it was her he was distracted by.

“Pfft, see something shiny?” She teased, causing him to laugh too as he felt the last of his wounds get sealed up and the pain slowly subside.

“Yeah… something like that.”

#murder drones #uzi doorman #serial designation n #nuzi #biscuitbites #mdweek #mdweek2024 #i finally wrote this #oneshot

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