#2017 reading wrap up

[cheriladycl01]

Best Secret Santa - The Grid x Driver! Reader

Plot: in which everyone wants to have Y/N as their secret Santa because she is the best gift giver and never fails to make peoples day by going above and beyond for it!

2017

“So Y/N this is the first year of Secret Santa, how excited are you!” The F1 interviewer asks!

“I’m so excited! I love gift gifting it’s one of my love languages to show people that I know them, and I listen to them!”

“Okay are you ready to open your gift then?” She asks pushing forward a small bag that had presents wrapped up very nicely inside. You take the bag and look at the wrapping paper, it was well wrapped and good quality.

You open the first which feels as if it could be a wooden box but doesn’t really indicate what it could be.

You see that you were correct and a wooden box with your favourite paint brand is there on the top. You unclip the clasp that’s holding the lid down seeing the various paints.

“Oh this is a good present, but not many people know that I paint on the grid.

“Who knows you paint in the grid?” She asks you.

“Hmmm Romain Grosjean, K Mag, Kimi”

“So do you think it could be one of them?”

“Maybe… potentially Kimi, he knows me very well and has really helped me as a Red Bull Junior Driver and in my Rookie Year this Year”

“I think if you open the second present you’ll know who your secret Santa is” she explains and you take the second present of the table, it was pretty weighty but not as heavy as the paints.

“This feels like a book, like a hard back” you say as you start to tear into it. And it was, it was the Romain Grosjean book.

“It’s Romain!! He’s my Secret Santa?” You look at the F1 with a massive wide grin making her smile back at her!

“Wait, come with me” she becons the lady and camera crew to follow her. She walks through the building they are all in, in Abu Dhabi until she finds Romain.

“Romain, Romain wait up wait up” you shout running after him making the camera crew follow!

“Ahhh i see you received my gift!” He exclaims and she pulls him into a thankful hug.

“Please can you sigh it Mr Grosjean, I’m a huge fan of your work in Haas!” You exclaim, handing him a pen making him chuckle but still sign the book he gifted to you!

“Thank you for you time” you giggle before the cameras cut, and they decide to do Romains secret Santa while he is there.

*Flip*

“And now we are here with Lewis Hamilton who we’ve interrupted from getting ready for his Mercedes After Party for his 4 time world championship” the F1 lady smiles at Lewis Hamilton and he kindly smiles back.

“So your Secret Santa went all out, we’ve had to set the cameras a little further back and you’ve got some sizeable gifts here but they requested you read the card first”

“Holy shit” Lewis says as they start to bring in a huge box (big enough to fit the likes of Toto Wolff inside) followed by a smaller bag to the left that had three neatly wrapped presents inside.

“Who, what the fuck” Lewis says looking at the camera as if he was on the office. He looks at the F1 presenter who just shrugs her shoulders and waits for him to open the card.

“Dear Lewis, Here are 4 gifts to commemorate your 4 World Championships! Have a great winter season, and here’s to many more championships ahead! Love, Your Secret Santa” he reads seeing the little doodles inside the card.

“Any ideas on who it could be” she asks.

“No clue, everyone on the grid would know how many championships I’ve won, so this doesn’t give away much” he offers with a laugh. He grabs the bag wanting to leave the big present till last.

“Ohhh a Vegan Cook book, so they know I’m Vegan and a Japan Fridge Magnet. Okay so this is either Max or Y/N as they shared a podium with me, I’m sure off it!” He grins before taking the next present out the bag.

“What is this” he says unwrapping a rather small but oddly shaped present.

“Oh that’s so cute it’s a Dog Collar for Roscoe! Wait, holy shit it’s personalised from Dior. Surely this can’t be Max, is it Max?” He asks and the F1 presenter just shrugs.

“Thank you, this honestly is very thoughtful as Roscoe is one of my favourite things and I love the brand and wear it all the time!” He grins.

“Okay, how about we attempt to open this bigger present. I don’t actually know how you’ll get this through customs”

“I’m scared to see what it is” Lewis laughs before tearing the box open. Inside is a surfboard that is hand painted on either side with Lewis car and many other little doddles to cover the board that has something to do with Lewis.

“Oh woah a custom made board, this must have been really expensive to have made” he says observing it before picking out all the different doodles and talking about them.

“It’s not custom made, your Secret Santa actually Hand Painted this themselves” Lewis head snaps away from the board to look at the presenter in shock.

“Oh it’s got to be Y/N”

“That is correct”

“Y/N you are the cutest. I will use this board today here in Abu Dhabi before I make good use of it in the off season! I’ve never actually had anything like this before so thank you so much, you are so very thoughtful and you have the kindest soul! Thank you for everything and I hope to share a podium with you in 2018” he smiles grinning before turning his attention back to the surfboard.

2018

“Hello Y/N it is now November 2018, after the final Grand Prix of the 2018 season. So you know what time that is!” The F1 presenter asks.

“SECRET SANTA!” You scream, pulling forward the presents, there was a medium sized box in front of you.

“Can I start”

“Of course”

You pulled the lid of the box off and immediately gasp at the first thing that isn’t wrapped that you can see what it is!

“Oh my lord, how - I’ve been needing new camera lenses and a case for mine! I take pictures of everyone around the paddock! So it could be anyone, but I was talking to Max, Pierre and Dani about needing new lenses …” you admit looking to see if the F1 presenter would give you a reactionary hint.

“Oh and there’s a small envelope. I hope you enjoy this retreat with your new lenses, maybe gain a new perspective before 2019” you read out before out of the envelope you pull out flight tickets, and a small cabin hotel booking confirmation for Italy.

“No no no stop this is too much” you say tears filling up in your eyes.

“Who do you think it is” the F1 presenter asks.

“It’s Dani Ric” you cry, the words coming out strained as you look around to see if he is watching you.

“How’d you know” she asks.

“Because we had a talk about how I felt shit about this season and that the Torro Rosso wasn’t built well this year. And how him leaving Red Bull wasn’t an easy choice but it was one he had to make” you sob. The presenter comes over and pull you into a comforting hug rubbing your back and you hug into her more.

“Hey Squirt” an Australian accent comes from behind you and you fling yourself off the presenter and turn to look at the reason for your tears.

“You made me cry on camera” you say pointing to the camera and then your gifts.

“Aw I’m glad you like them! I was worried I hadn’t done well enough!” He grins rubbing your head before pulling you into a tight hug.

“I love them! And I’ll do better next year for you! I promise” you smile and he grins back at you!

*Flip*

“Hello Charles, how are you!”

“I am very good thank you. I see that there is a lot of presents here, all varying in size and it worries me. This is my first year and I don’t know many people that well!” He says looking between all the presents.

“Well here’s the card that came with it” she says passing over the red envelope that he opens the second his gets his hands on it.

“Dear Charlie, hmmm there’s not many that call me Charlie. Amazing first year in Alfa Romeo, can’t wait to see what you do in Ferrari” he reads out thinking of who it could be.

“It’s Y/N for sure. Between the amount of presents here and the note saying Charlie it must be her!” He exclaims before tearing into his first present. There were Alfa Romeo socks, with little jelly snake candies.

“Ah to remember my time in Alfa Romeo, these Candies actually look so good! Thank you!” He says observing the candies.

“This box is small, but heavy” he observes before pulling out a watch box.

“Oh my god, it’s a Ferrari watch. Look at this beauty! I will wear this now I think” He offers showing the camera the Ferrari official watch you’d got him. He places it on his wrist, looking at it before grinning and showing the camera.

“Okay this next one looks very very big, and oh it’s super heavy. I don’t even think I can lift that up”

He starts to tear off the paper, showing a cardboard box with a stamp on top, of what Charles assumed to be the place she’d got it from.

“Antiques Auction House? What is that?” He asks not knowing.

“It’s a place you bid to get rare objects” the F1 presenter grins and Charles looks up in shock. He carefully takes the tape off the lid and pulls the heavy hunk of metal out of the box. He pulls down the bubble wrap to reveal a Ferrari paddock sign.

“Is this real?” He gasps looking it over.

“Yes, maybe take a look at the race it’s from and the year” the presenter asks pushing him to look at the front a little closer.

“Monza 1996, that’s the year I was born! This gift, is so thoughtful and I will put it in my apartment where my sim is so everyone is able to see it when they come over! Hopefully this will bring me luck in Ferrari and in Monza next year so thank you Y/N”

He picks up the next gift which is small and flimsy. He immediately thinks it’s clothing.

As he tears open he holds up the t-shirt bursting out laughing looking at both sides.

On the front it was a radio from his that year printed on saying “woHooooo, Oh Yes! That feels good! - France 2018” and on the back there were words that were printed on there saying “Ask me what happened in France 2018” as a funny sexual innuendo from how crude the radio has sounded with no context behind it!

“This is hilarious and Y/N never fails with these joke gifts. That’s something I’ve noticed, I know this has only been done 2 years now but last year she had two jokey gifts for Lewis and 2 really nice thoughtful ones. This year I have similar! She’s a really good gift giver! She goes above and beyond!”

“She really does! I always get excited, just to see what Y/N gets her Secret Santa each year!”

“I think after this, if they didn’t before, everyone wants her as their gift giver!”

“Okay last gift Charles”

He open up to see a plastic CD cover, decorated by Y/N. He opens it up seeing a note inside.

“For when you finally record something on the piano” he looks up at the presenter and he shows her the cute cover the artistic grid member has designed.

“This is beautiful and I will fill it with tracks I will share with you Y/N thank you again and Merry Christmas Cheri!” He grins.

Y/N definitely spend over her own private budget this secret Santa but she couldn’t help having a small crush on the Alfa Romeo, future Ferrari boy.

2019

“Y/N, you know it’s my favourite time of the year just because you are here serving us once again with your amazing and seemingly limitless gift giving skills. I do have to ask how did you get that Monza pit board”

“Well, my dad is good friends with a Motorsport enthusiast, who has an auction house for Motorsports and Cars, and I won it in August, and was going to give it to Charles as an end or year well done/ Christmas present, but when I got him for secret Santa it made sense to put it in his gifts” you explain.

“Amazing okay so here are you presents for the 2019 season!”

“Oh my gosh I know who this is already! It’s K Mag” you exclaims seeing the pottery set! You’d been saying to him how you wanted to start getting into pottery and how you’d just brought one of the proper stoves to bake them in.

“We spoke about this before, and of course this Metallica Funko Pop would have given it away if the pottery didn’t! Omg I can’t wait to make you and your wife a vase! Thank you so much! I will bring it with me at the start of next season!” You exclaim looking in awe at the two presents in front of you!

*Flip*

“Lance Stroll, I think this year might be your lucky year, you’ve got a decent size bag with three presents” the presenter says cheerfully making Lance smile back.

“I’m excited to see what’s been brought for me! Okay first one obviously we have to open the card and see the message.

“Dear Lance, Starting as rookies together was so much fun! Beating you was even better! Oh it’s either Y/N or Gasly, we all had our rookie year together in 2017!” He exclaims before pulling out the first present which was another envelope.

“You know this is gonna be a voucher of some kind or like, a this was supposed to be your present but it’s not here. What could it be!” He asks opening it up.

“Tennis lessons … WITH ANDY MURRAY? It’s gotta be Y/N right? They are both from the UK, and I’m guessing someone she knows him? How the hell does she know him?” He laughs, he was really into tennis, if he ever had to quit motorsport he would got to tennis as his secondary option.

“This is amazing, thank you Y/N” he smiles genuinely.

“I think him and Y/N were invited to meet the Queen. She wanted to meet Y/N for breaking records around women in motorsport. They’ve played tennis together and she’s driven him round Aintree in her Lamborghini”

“Woah that’s crazy, so they are like friends? Well thank you Y/N and Andy watch out coz I’m coming for you!” He says as he reaches for the next present which is very badly wrapped.

“I think this just be the joke present she gets alongside her good ones” he says shaking it nothing giving away what it could be. He rips it open, to find a mug and a bottle of maple syrup!

“Ah yes as a true Canadian, maple is necessary! And oh a mug”

“Turn it round Lance, what does it say?” Laughs the presenter not actually knowing this was one of the presents.

“It says Daddies Little Boy” he laughs, knowing the joke in the paddock that he wouldn’t ever loose his seat in F1 until he no longer wanted to race.

“That’s hilarious, thank you Y/N I’ll be sure to show my dad this one. Okay onto the last”

He opens it up seeing a James Bond Limited Edition, signed Car from the movies in a mini form.

“It’s so funny, me and Y/N have arguments about this all the time. So they basically got her in Casino Royale as a stunt driver for one scene as she looks like Eva Green from the back. So she will always say that Casino Royale is the best Bond film, but I disagree I think it’s Quantum of Solace! Thank you Y/N for all of this! I can’t wait for my Tennis lessons!”

2020

“What a year it’s been with this virus Y/N and what a stressful year it has been for you drivers. However you’ve had some amazing drives, you had your first win this year with the new name for Toro Rosso under AlphaTauri! And we couldn’t be happier for you. But, your moving up the ranks aren’t you!” The presenter grins happily.

“Yes as of 2021 I will stay in the Red Bull family but move alongside Max into the Red Bull Racing Honda team!” You exclaim! You were so happy to have been given the chance and had worked your but of last year in AlphaTauri coming P5 in the drivers championship. Christian Horner came to you and offered you the seat as you’d done better in the Tauri than Alex in the Red Bull.

“This is just amazing news for you Y/N and we are excited to see what you can do alongside Max Verstappen in 2021!”

“Okay here are you presents for this year!” She says, you pull your mask up a little as it had dropped down as you were talking it repositioning it up and in the correct way.

“These feel like drinks?” You question as you shake the box, when you peel it down you burst out laughing at the crate of Red Bulls in front of you. Everyone knew you were moving to Red Bull so this could literally be anyone.

“Oh my gosh, and Lego Star Wars! LOOK ITS THE FALCON” you yell excitedly. During COVID, you’d streamed alongside Alex, Charles, Lando and George as you liked playing games already and it was more fun with your friends. But you also did streams where you’d answer questions while building Lego’s.

“Guys, Christmas Falcon building stream??” You ask wiggling your eyebrows, however you didn’t know if they’d be able to see them with the Santa hat currently on top of your head.

“Who did you think it is?” The presenter asks.

“I feel like this one is so hard this year, everyone knows I’m moving to RedBull and everyone knew I streamed, and my love for Star Wars” you sigh, a hand rising up to your face in a thinking motion.

“It’s gotta be someone kind and funny. Lando? NO? hmmmm …Dani Ric again? No? Pierre Gasly? NO? Oh my lord, erm I’m not sure who is it??” You ask genuinely having no clue!

“It was George Russell!” She exclaims and you grin widely!

“Thank you so much George! I really appreciate this and I hope you drop in the steam where I’m building it!”

*Flip*

“Max, what a year it’s been for you! Between some amazing races and coming P3, what can we expect from you in 2021”

“Becoming a world champion for sure, I think Y/N moving over to redbull at this time in my career is exactly what I need. She was giving me a run for my money in a mid field car this year, pushing it to its limits every race and outperforming the car. I think she’s going to be competitive and push me further as both a teammate and a rival. I’m excited to have her on board” he smiles nodding.

“Okay so here’s your presents, they are numbered in the order you have to open them in!” She says pushing them forward.

“Okay present one, oh what is this OMG tickets to Moto GP. Beside F1 that is my favourite sport! And it’s during the summer break, that’s incredible! Thank you so much! There’s two so that means I can take a friend I presume! Can I take the gifter?” He asks looking at the F1 presenter who nods, knowing you most likely wouldn’t turn that down.

“Next one! Oooo woah, this is nice, look at this. This one here is me in, Malaysia I think. My first ever face win! Austria in 2018 is here, you can see the Bulk from the Red Bull Ring, oh and here is I think this must be my win in Brazil last year I want to say? And then Abu Dhabi from this year? That race was only yesterday, how did they… this has to be Y/N I don’t know any other person who is this good at art” he says pointing the painted canvas.

“Okay, this is the last one, so this has to be her joke one right?” He asks looking towards the people.

“Read the note here first, now that you’ve worked out who it is” she smiles pushing the letter forward.

“Dear Max, I can’t wait to drive alongside you next year. Or maybe in front of you, we’ll just have to wait and see. Y/N

“I am very excited to drive with her next season. It’s going to be a very close season with the changes I’m sure will occur” he says as he starts to pull from the bag.

“A Y/N pillow, this will travel with me as a travel pillow! Oh and a Y/N signed red bull cap. You’ll be signing a lot more of these next year, but I’m honoured to get the first ever one!” He smiles nodding before looking at the camera for them to stop rolling.

2021

“Y/N, what an amazing year you’ve had a RedBull, coming in P3 and winner the constructors championship for Red Bull, how has the year been?”

“Yeah it’s been phenomenal, driving with Max has really made me push myself to the limits. I think I’m still warming up in the Red Bull this seasons and I made some mistakes which I’ve been focusing on improving each race and I think you can see that in my performance in the second half of the season. I’m thankful to max for pushing me to be a better driver and I’m excited for 2022 with Red Bull, and Honda!”

“Obviously it’s our favourite time of the year! And we are going to be opening some presents!” She says pushing forward a small box. You grin looking at the very precise and very neat wrapping.

You open the box to find one of those cute adopt a penguin with the little plushie.

“Awww it’s so cute!” You exclaims holding up the little penguin.

“And I think there’s a note in there about something else” the F1 presenter directs.

“Hello Y/N it’s your fav mentor. Join me to meet this penguin on a Antártica cruise! K.R”

“KIMI, KIMI, KIMI! No this is too much!” You say looking at the presenter in panic.

“Your idol wants to go on holiday with you! How do you feel”

“Blessed! I’m so happy! I can’t wait to go see the penguins with you Kimi!” You smile, hugging the penguin plushie close to your chest.

*Flip*

“Lando, you’ve got some large gifts here”

“Yeah it’s Y/N” Lando immediately says looking at the wide array of gifts.

“You haven’t even opened at them yet” she laughs.

“No I know Y/N and she’s the only one that puts THIS extensive effort into this! I’ve nailed it tho saying it’s Y/N” he smirks.

“Okay what have we got here” he says picking up the first which is a thinly wrapped envelope.

“Spa vouchers …” he says before shaking his head trying not to laugh and look mock angry.

“I crash in spa, and this is what I get… thanks Y/N. Oh there’s three vouchers. You can Max Fewtrell can come with me. Oh and some … Valorant lessons? Are you saying I’m bad at Valorant, just because your a sweat and your like Ascendent or some shit!” He grins out.

He grabs the next box, small yet heavy. He opens it seeing McLaren x Richard Mille.

“A watch! Woah this … I’m so happy to add this to my collection!”

“And it’s the only one ever made!” The presenter adds making him gasp and look underneath the watch at the engraving. A blush comes onto his face thanking the girl for the watch.

“Okay big box next!” He grins tearing into it.

“Oh Y/N! Y/N” he says with a hand slapped to his mouth.

“Wait no stop” he says pulling the personalised helmet she made him with a note explaining it was for a good start to 2022.

“Thank you Y/N and I can’t wait to wear this next year it’s amazing!” He smiles showing it to the camera finding more and more funny things to laugh to himself about that were inside jokes between the pair of you.

2022

“Y/N the fight between you Max and Charles was so close this year, and you only were a few points behind Charles in the end, taking a storm of a constructors win for Red Bull, so do think you and Charles will have a chance in 2023”

“Yea of course! I’ve renewed my contract with Red Bull until 2025, so I’m very excited at what it will bring!”

“As usual it’s time for the best part of the season! Secret Santa, let’s see what you’ve got this year!” She directs pushing forward the presents in front.

“A bottle of Sake! This will be from Mr Yuki Tsunoda, a Japanese delicacy that he introduced me to this year at the Grand Prix! Thank you Yuki! We’ll have to drink this together!” You smile before going to the next present.

“Oh my gosh, a Bonsai and new tools! This is perfect for my garden in London! Look I have to show you!” She smiles showing the F1 presenter pictures of her garden going off on a rant of where she could place the new bonsai.

“Thank you so much Yuki! Can’t wait to race with you in 23” you smile at the camera.

*Flip*

“Alex! Hopefully Williams has been treating you well” the interviewer smiles happily.

“It has, I think I got a lot out of the car this year which they can learn from in the future! It’s been a year of learning for all of us and we’re happy with the improvements we made” he smiles.

“Well it’s Secret Santa time. Here are your gifts”

“This first one feels like a shirt” he admits feeling up the packaging. He opens it and unfolds the top laughing at what was on the front putting it down and laughing into his hands.

“Show us what you got Alex” she asks. He holds up the gifted top that’s a picture of you and Lily holding hands walking through the paddock looking at each other loving. Above the picture in writing says ‘this woman stole my girlfriend’.

“Lily will force me to wear this, I know it and she will agree with it and come running to the menace of a Secret Santa that gifted this to me! Thank you Y/N” he smiles charmingly at the camera.

“Okay, up next oh? Private golf lessons, with Lily at Hotchkin Course. It says here’s the course is ours for the whole day! Woah, not only will I appreciate that but Lily will also enjoy that day out! Thank you so so much Y/N as usual you are the best!”

“Hand painted golf balls, oh look so this one has the Thai flag on it, this one has the Williams logo on it, this one has a Lily flower on it, okay that’s cute! Look at this detail” he says holding the ball up close to the camera!

“This is perfect! Thank you Y/N and have an amazing Christmas”

2023

"Y/N you and Max have had an amazing season this year and have dominated formula one in Red Bull. You came P2 in the championship, not too far behind Max who won his 3rd championship!"

"Yes, its been an amazing year for us and I'm hoping that next year it will be me winning the Championship!" you grin looking at the presenter.

"Okay, so its the 7th year of Secret Santa on the grid! Are you excited! Because i am!" she says shoving the small bag towards you. You grin excited.

"Yes, okay so ooooo, I know who this is straight away and I think the fans are going to be really happy over this" you grin after you'd peeled the bag back seeing the first gift that was unwrapped and open for the eye to see.

You pull the object out showing hair bleach, toner and little tools and foils, and a note saying that you'll both dye it together and be matching blondes.

You show the camera, knowing fans will not only go wild for blonde Alex, but wild for you finally going blonde after saying for months that you would.

"This is a great gift, and we are going to get Lily to do this for us together!" you smile, before dipping into the bag and pulling the next gift out.

"Steal my GF coupons! OMG finally thank you Alex, i can finally get MY girlfriend Lily back. Guy's seriously when you next pan to her when she's in the paddock, please caption her as Lily Professional Golfer and Partner of Red Bull Driver Y/N Y/L/N. Please I'm begging you!" she laughs and the presenter writes something down on her phone.

"Thank you Alex for these amazing gifts and I will be sure to use both the coupons and the hair dye!" you grin, observing the contents of the hair dye.

"This is a good brand no? Lily must do a good job" you nod, hoping that Lily knows how to dye hair considering Alex's looked good the last time he had it done.

"Yes, its what they use for most of the KPOP Idols in Korea, you know how they dye their hair lots? This is what they use in order to keep it really nice and smooth"

*FLIP*

"Okay, here we have our all time favrioute Daniel Ricciardo, so happy to have seen you driving for AlphaTauri this year. Hopefully 2024 will be a good season for you and we can get some podiums back up there!" she smiles at Daniel who has his typical huge smile back.

"Thank you, lets get down to the real reason we are here! I want to see the presents whoever this is"

"Okay, so ooo a bike helmet. Hmmmm I've been saying to a few on the grid that i need a new one, but this is a really good brand. Okay next one" he smiles moving the bike helmet to one side.

"Ohhhh what the hell, someone has got me Talladega Nights, but they've photoshopped me into Ricky Bobby's place. Look at this. Did you guys get Jensen Button to join in this year?" he laughs showing the camera, the photoshopped version of the popular film among the drivers.

"That's really funny so i bet its got to be one of the young one. Maybe Lando? Or Y/N? or even Oscar my Aussie brother?" he says observing the disk before placing it against the bike helmet leaving it on show.

"A honey badger plushie... okay this is Y/N Lando no way would get me a plushie thats this cute" he jokes.

"Okay last one, holy shit. Do you know how the hell she managed to pull some of these gifts off?? I swear she's the actual St Nick sometimes!" he says looking at his final present. It was an envelope explaining something that you would do for him.

"So she's booked a venue, for her and Heidi in Milan to do a fashion show of my new clothes line that I’ve made in-front of anyone who wants to attend… that’s so thoughtful. Thank you Y/N I’m sure you and Heidi will look amazing on the runway! Thank you and see you on the track more next year!” He smiles.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall@sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me

[anarchblr]

In 2017, a group of people in Chicago, decided to open a library/community center at Blood Fruit Printworks in Bridgeport. Since then, Blood Fruit Library has evolved and migrated across neighborhoods in order to work together with varying neighbors and friends. As always, we are committed to sharing and preserving the words of those we agree and, inevitably, disagree with who have published their own thoughts for our reflection. We believe these written words can serve as a jumping off point for our own discussions with others, helping us build networks of affinity. We invite you to share your own favorite readings with the library (be they in the form of pamphlets, zines, books, digital articles, posters), so that we are learning and sharing together. Although, we are amoebic in nature - moving, shape-shifting, and changing as we respond to the world around us, we continue our efforts to always offer a tangible "place" in addition to the books. We don't want another atomized pocket of learning through isolated book-reading. We want to always combine book sharing with human connection. A book is just a book. Let's meet, talk, connect, plan together.

✨Help Bloodfruit Library/Yolotl get through the winter! This space, ever transitioning from radical place to place in Chicago has held many people people, ideas, events and histories. ✨The space is in a commercial building and the gas bills are hundreds of dollars every month (on top of rent and other utilities!). With the cold snap in chicago it’s pertinent that we be able to keep on the heat on. Please consider subscribing to our Patreon or donating to the Venmo! Both links in bio.

From the new location of Bloodfruit we create linoprints of solidarity and send them across made-up borders to a couple of searching brigades/ family collectives of forcibly disappeared persons in Mexico. We also send messages of solidarity to comrades in that fight when they face hard times, to let them know that here in so-called Chicago we are thinking of them, that all of our worlds are wrapped up together, that our liberation is bound up together. We are still going strong as a donation point for unhoused neighbors and gatherings for folks, and are excited to be soon offering zines of the month, spanish classes, translations of texts, reading clubs, radical movies, workshops, and more. If you have any asks and/or offerings that can bring community together, please reach out to us, this is a space for you. Of course the anarchist books and zines in our collection have grown and are still available! Open hours currently are Fridays from 7-10pm in Rogers Park. Direct message us on instagram (@bloodfruitlib) for the address! See you soon!

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Venmo

Hi everyone!

Please check out one of the long-standing anarchist projects my friends have been holding down in so-called "Chicago"; they've recently restarted their patreon because living expenses have been staggering lately. They do amazing work in spreading the anarchist message and communicating with comrades across international borders while always also helping an eye on local events, themselves being a host of a truly free anarchist library that has everything from writings from the Situationalist International to Zapatista Carocoles to Afro-Pessimisim to Kurdish revolutionaries; it's an invaluable cultural hub of anarchic culture.

You can give a one-off donation of whatever amount but the patreon starts at 5$; at 10$ you'll receive a free PDF zine per month and at 15$ we'll also send a print copy.

Please consider spreading and contributing to this project.

[nondelphic]

maybe just wrap up the "writing blog" if your skill has degraded to "obviously spends too much time on tumblr"

shocker! not every post on this blog is autobiographical! crazy, i know. you think i’m churning out 5–10 posts a day that are all about me?? babe this is a writing blog, not a personal one. i write. sometimes it’s from the pov of a character. sometimes it’s just a vibe. sometimes it’s from a guy named ryan who hasn’t written a single word since 2017 and lives in a state of constant creative guilt. if you skimmed one (1) obviously exaggerated post and decided my "skill has degraded" without ever reading my actual writing (because i haven’t posted it here), that’s not a me problem. that’s a you-being-bad-at-context-clues problem. try again.

fight me in the comments or scroll away in silence. your move.

[some-triangles]

This is the order of events as nearly as I can reconstruct them.

In 2008 I start following a webcomic called Problem Sleuth.

In 2009 Problem Sleuth wraps up. The author, Andrew Hussie, begins work on 🤡's next project, a mixed media piece called Homestuck.

In 2010 I become an evangelist for Homestuck. I spread the word to my college friend Stephen. He joins an online Homestuck RP group. I move to New York. That fall, Stephen visits me and introduces me to a guy from the group named Josh, who plays Rose. I am immediately infatuated.

In 2011 Stephen starts development on a real life Pesterchum app. I organize a Homestuck group cosplay and we go to Anime Central with our whole college anime club dressed up as trolls. I sit in a field with 50 Daves. I write my first Homestuck fanfiction, which is also my first anything fanfiction. Josh moves into my apartment. Stephen is dating a pair of bisexual cosplayers. Act 5 concludes. It is Peak Homestuck.

In 2012 my girlfriend tells me that I am no longer allowed to talk about Homestuck with her. The What Pumpkin organization - Homestuck is too big to be one person's project anymore - launches a kickstarter for a Homestuck video game, which raises 2.5 million dollars. At the same time, it is becoming clear that something is wrong with Homestuck itself. The author is fed up with the project but is now financially bound to it. The content becomes increasingly mean-spirited and critical of its audience as What Pumpkin tries to turn itself into a game company.

In 2013 What Pumpkin loses a significant chunk of its Kickstarter money - how much we'll never know - through a comical series of development boondoggles. Stephen launches a Kickstarter to fund an expansion of the Pesterchum app - now the haunt of a large online community - and What Pumpkin shuts it down. Josh no longer reads Homestuck but we're still living together and we start a podcast.

In 2014 Homestuck is mostly on hiatus. When it returns I start this blog, which was originally called "Two Triangles," after Dirk's shades. Most of the old crew have stopped caring about Homestuck but I am a die-hard. I write more fanfiction, mostly lesbian fluff. I begin to meet new people who are still invested in the whole thing. This and the podcast become the core of my new social world. Homestuck itself is getting more and more chaotic and diffuse but I still believe Andrew can tie it all together.

In 2015 I break. I write a fanfic called "Theatre of Coolty," which is my Dear John letter to Andrew Hussie. (I kill him in the story, which is par for the course.) It becomes the most popular thing I have ever made, and is most likely the most popular thing I ever will make. It is translated into multiple languages. A person called Naked Bee (who becomes another dear friend) turns it into a short film with puppets. I have grown to hate Homestuck but it is now my primary source of external validation and the foundation of my social media presence.

In 2016 Homestuck ends. The last year of its existence is an extraordinary act of creative self-erasure. Hussie vanishes by degrees, and by the time the finale rolls out no trace of 🤡's writing or art is left in the product. It is an abnegation worthy of Prospero. To complete this act of conceptual self-destruction, 🤡 ends up selling the entire product to Viz, who let it corrode. (Nine years later, homestuck.com is a dead link, mspaintadventures an abandoned swamp of broken pngs.) Meanwhile, I provide the narration for Bee's audio adaptation of a novel-length Homestuck fanfiction called Detective Pony, which she later turns into a feature film. The author of the fic/novel goes on to Kickstart a dating sim based on the 2016 Republican primary, which he calls Grand Old Academy. It has yet to be published.

In 2017 I leave New York. My friendship with Josh deteriorates and our podcast ends. I am no longer a Homestuck fan. As such I rebrand - the number of triangles I am is no longer anyone's business.

--

In 2021, Andrew Hussie releases a visual novel called Psycholonials. I do not read it.

--

In 2025, I am back in New York, albeit not in the city. I'm married to someone I met through this blog. Most of my closest friends are people I met either through Homestuck or through the projects that came out of it. Even my college friends - the ones I still talk to - are the ones who went through the wars with me. My wife thinks Psycholonials is worth reading. One night we sit down and play through it together.

Psycholonials is a nasty, nihilistic little story about a fucking idiot who accidentally creates a movement and then runs away like a bitch when it gets to be too much, back into the bosom of 🤡's trust fund. It's also really good. It has all the things I loved about Homestuck, all the stuff I missed as 🤡 left it to rot. It demonstrates that 🤡 is not washed, that the failure of Homestuck was not because 🤡 lost the juice. 🤡 abandoned us on purpose. 🤡 chose 🤡 over us.

This was objectively the correct decision. And when you come right down to it, 🤡 never signed up to change my life. It just happened.

Still, I can't say that it doesn't hurt a little, sitting here in my 40s. I guess everyone follows at least one failed messiah. So, yet another farewell to the cool big brother I never had. I hope this is the last one.

[svt-luna]

𝜗℘ CAN I BE HIM?

❛ 𝘪 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘪’𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘯𝘰. 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴— 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 '𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯? 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮? ❜

timeline: 2017 & 2018

synopsis: Amid the tangled emotions between Luna, Jeonghan, and Mingyu, unspoken confessions and lingering hopes weave a bittersweet narrative of love, regret, and the desperate longing to be chosen.

wc: 8.8k

warnings: angst, multiple povs, narrative description heavy, cursing, crying, mentions of rejection, heartbreak, jealousy, regrets, unrequited love (?), sad!Luna, jealous!Jeonghan, jealous!Mingyu, lowkey possessive Jeonghan, secret feelings, confusions and realizations, acceptance, unrequited love, everyone is lowkey sad

read If Only first before this if you haven’t already! this one-shot is the aftermath of that story. this is also inspired by these request by you lovely humans: (request 1), (request 2), (request 3) & (request 4) happy reading, my loves 🤍🤎

sidenote… my heart aches for the three of them cause i have been on their shoes before… all three of them (also, i made myself cry again)… i promise, they’ll be fine 🥹🤍

“and when i felt like i was an old cardigan under someone’s bed, you put me on and said i was your favorite.” listening to Cardigan while writing this is not for the faint hearted…

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

Can I be him?

The thought crossed Mingyu’s mind as he sat on the cold floor of the practice room, his back propped against the wall. His dark eyes were fixed on Luna, who was across the room, quietly stretching. Her movements were methodical, almost robotic, as if her body was going through the motions her heart wasn’t in. She tilted her head to one side, letting out a soft laugh at something Dokyeom had said, but Mingyu wasn’t fooled.

That smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes told a different story.

Slightly swollen, rimmed with a faint red that hadn’t been there the day before, they seemed heavier today, carrying the kind of weight that only came with a sleepless night and a broken heart.

Luna’s smile faltered just slightly as she stretched her arms over her head, her gaze dropping momentarily to the floor. But she recovered quickly, plastering on the same bright expression that fooled most of the room.

Most of the room— but not the members, not him, and definitely not Jeonghan.

Mingyu’s gaze drifted from Luna to her shadow.

Jeonghan sat across the room, leaning against the mirrored wall, legs sprawled in front of him. His usual air of calm amusement was absent. Instead, he looked subdued, almost tired. His sharp eyes followed Luna’s every movement, his expression unreadable except to those who knew him best.

Mingyu could see the sadness there, the guilt. Jeonghan wasn’t the type to wear his emotions plainly, but Mingyu knew him too well to miss the subtle signs.

Mingyu let out a quiet sigh, his chest tightening as he turned his attention back to Luna.

She was so good at pretending.

Too good.

But not good enough to fool him.

Despite his reputation for being loud and playful, Mingyu was surprisingly perceptive, especially when it came to his members. He had a knack for reading the room, for picking up on the things people didn’t say.

And Luna, with her slightly too-wide smile and tired eyes, was screaming in silence.

His mind wandered back to the night before, right after they had wrapped up a grueling day of comeback promotions. They’d all piled into the van, worn out but satisfied with their progress. But something had been different. The usual chatter and teasing had been dampened by a palpable tension that no one could quite name.

He remembered how Jeonghan had broken the silence as they pulled up to the dorms.

“Can you guys give me a moment with Jiyeon?” Jeonghan had asked, his voice calm but carrying an edge of urgency that couldn’t be ignored.

The members had exchanged glances but ultimately agreed, leaving Jeonghan to chase after Luna to the elevators.

Mingyu had lingered just a moment longer, glancing back to see Jeonghan jogging after Luna, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

Desperate, almost.

The elevator doors had closed, muffling whatever conversation took place between the two.

By the time they arrived at the practice room today, they had both looked… normal. Talking, laughing, pretending nothing was wrong. But it was clear as day that something had changed. Luna moved with less energy, her usual spark dulled. And Jeonghan— he looked like a man carrying a secret too heavy to bear.

Then there was the matter of Luna’s swollen eyes. She’d walked in and mumbled something about it being allergy season.

Allergy season.

The excuse might have flown with someone else, but Mingyu wasn’t buying it. He knew better.

Luna wasn’t allergic to pollen— or anything but mushrooms, for that matter. And while the other members had let it slide, choosing not to push her, Mingyu had spent the entire morning unable to shake the image of her red-rimmed eyes.

It wasn’t allergies. It was something else.

Mingyu’s chest tightened again as he watched Luna push her hair behind her ear, her focus entirely on her stretches.

Luna wasn’t looking at Jeonghan. She hadn’t looked at him directly all morning. And yet, her entire body seemed to lean in his direction, like she couldn’t help but orbit him.

Her heart was crying for Jeonghan, Mingyu realized.

Whatever had happened between them last night, it had left her raw. She was trying so hard to act normal, to be okay, but it was written all over her face.

And Jeonghan— Jeonghan’s face held an ache that mirrored hers.

Mingyu had always known Luna to be someone who wore her strength like armor. She was tough, fiercely independent, and had an almost stubborn determination to handle her own struggles.

Over the years, he’d watched her laugh off bad days, push through injuries, and hide her tears behind radiant smiles.

He knew why she did it— she hated the idea of being a burden to anyone.

Even now, when her swollen eyes and tired demeanor betrayed the storm inside her, she continued to act as though everything was fine.

But Mingyu also knew her tells.

He knew the little cracks in her facade that most people missed. The way her laughter came a beat too quickly, or how she busied herself with menial tasks when her thoughts became too loud. And he especially knew how she would retreat into herself, bottling everything up until she couldn’t anymore.

In those moments, there was always one person who could reach her— Jeonghan.

Jeonghan had a way of being exactly what Luna needed.

He was always the first to notice when something was wrong and the first to drop whatever he was doing to listen to her. No matter how busy or chaotic things got, Jeonghan would sit with her, offering his undivided attention and quiet reassurances until she felt safe enough to open up.

But not today.

Today, Jeonghan was the reason for the sadness she was hiding, and Mingyu knew she wouldn’t be going to him. Not with the way she avoided looking in his direction or the way she flinched just slightly when his name was mentioned.

Mingyu had decided then and there that if Jeonghan couldn’t be the one to catch her this time, he would.

Even if it wasn’t his place.

Even if it hurt.

He’d made it his mission to be the shoulder she could lean on, at least until she and Jeonghan could figure things out.

Mingyu didn’t need to replace Jeonghan in her life— though the selfish part of him ached to hold even a fraction of the space Jeonghan held in her heart.

No, Mingyu would happily be whatever Luna needed him to be. Because she deserved to have someone in her corner.

The practice session dragged on, but Mingyu barely registered it. His attention kept flickering to Luna, who worked quietly in the corner, tying her hair up into a ponytail as the rest of the members milled about the room. She was doing her best to blend into the background, her movements measured and unhurried. But Mingyu could see the way her hands trembled slightly as she twisted the hair tie around her fingers.

He didn’t hesitate.

Before she could finish, Mingyu crossed the room in a few long strides, his heart thudding in his chest as he approached her. Without a word, he gently turned her around to face him and wrapped her in the biggest, warmest hug he could manage.

Luna froze in his arms, caught off guard by the sudden embrace. For a split second, she didn’t know who it was, but the familiar weight of Mingyu’s biceps around her shoulders was a dead giveaway.

Her body tensed at first, stiff and uncertain, but then it melted against him. Her arms came up to wrap loosely around his torso, and Mingyu felt the tension in her shoulders ease. She sank into the hug as though it was exactly what she needed but didn’t know how to ask for.

Neither of them spoke. The world around them seemed to fade away, the noise of the practice room becoming distant and inconsequential.

Mingyu rested his chin on the top of her head, his large hands moving gently to the loose tie of her hair. He pulled it free, his fingers working carefully to gather her strands and tie them properly. Luna stayed in place, her arms still around his waist, her face pressed lightly against his chest.

When he finished, Mingyu pulled back just slightly, cupping her neck with both hands as he tilted her head up to look at him. His thumbs brushed softly against her skin, and he offered her the gentlest smile he could muster.

“You did good today,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I’m proud of you, Lulu-ya.”

Luna’s eyes went misty at his words, her lips curving into a sad, soft smile. “Thank you, Gyu-Gyu,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mingyu’s chest ached at the sight of her.

That smile— bittersweet and fragile— made him feel both helpless and fiercely protective all at once. He knew his words weren’t much, but she deserved to hear them.

Luna’s heart ached, too.

Jeonghan was always the one to tell her these things. After every practice, every performance, every small accomplishment, he would praise her for things she didn’t even realize mattered. “You did so well,” he’d say, whether it was after a grueling practice session or after a performance or something as simple as finishing her meal.

Mingyu wasn’t trying to replace Jeonghan, and deep down, she knew that. But it hurt all the same because his words reminded her of what she had with Jeonghan. And yet, it also made her heart swell with gratitude for Mingyu.

Mingyu felt the weight of her emotions, even if she didn’t voice them. He didn’t say anything, letting the moment hang between them before speaking softly again.

“Let’s eat together later,” he offered, his voice calm and reassuring. “I’ll come to your place, and we can hang out. Just you and me.”

Luna hesitated, her brows furrowing slightly as she considered his words. “You don’t have to, Gyu…”

“I want to,” he interrupted gently, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You can tell me everything if you want or we can just watch something, okay?”

Her lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but she stopped herself. Instead, she nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said softly.

Mingyu smiled again, his hands still cupping her neck as he gave her a small nod. “Good. I’ll bring something over later. We’ll make a night of it.”

“Okay,” she repeated, her voice a little steadier this time.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

Across the practice room, Jeonghan now stood, his against the mirrored wall, his arms crossed against his chest. Dino and Dokyeom were animatedly chattering beside him, their voices rising and falling with excitement as they recounted some trivial story from their schedule earlier that week. Jeonghan nodded absentmindedly, his lips curling into an occasional smile to show he was listening.

But he wasn’t.

His eyes were elsewhere, fixed on Luna and Mingyu, who were still locked in that quiet, private moment.

Jeonghan’s gaze lingered on the way Mingyu’s large hands cradled Luna’s neck with such gentleness, the way he tilted her head up to meet his gaze as if she were something precious. The way Luna’s tired face softened in response to Mingyu’s words, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Jeonghan didn’t even realize he had stopped nodding along to Dokyeom and Dino’s conversation until Dokyeom nudged his shoulder, snapping him out of his trance. “Hyung, are you even listening?”

Jeonghan blinked, his head turning slightly toward them. “Hmm?” he murmured, feigning nonchalance as he offered them a distracted smile. “Yeah, I heard you.”

Satisfied, Dokyeom launched back into his story, and Jeonghan gave another vague nod. But his attention drifted back almost immediately, his gaze locking onto Luna once again.

Jeonghan wasn’t sure what he was feeling.

There was a tightness in his chest, a gnawing sensation that twisted uncomfortably in his gut. It wasn’t something he was particularly familiar with, and yet, it felt impossibly loud in his head.

He watched as Mingyu’s hands lingered at Luna’s nape, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin before he stepped back, giving her a reassuring smile. He watched the way Luna’s shoulders seemed to relax under Mingyu’s touch, how she nodded at whatever Mingyu said with an almost imperceptible hesitation, as if she was letting down a guard she didn’t even know she had raised.

And then, like a whisper in his mind, the thought came unbidden— Can I be him?

Jeonghan’s chest constricted at the question, his heart skipping a beat as if the thought itself had startled him. The weight of those words settled heavily in his mind, lingering like a bitter taste he couldn’t shake.

But almost as quickly as it had come, the thought shifted, his mind backtracking with a sharp pang of realization.

I was him.

His fingers curled against his thighs as the words echoed in his head, quiet but insistent. He was the one Luna used to lean on, the one she sought out when the weight of the world became too much to bear. He was the one who used to coax those smiles out of her, who knew exactly what to say to make her laugh, to make her feel seen.

And now, someone else was standing in his place.

Jeonghan’s jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away, his eyes dropping to the floor. He hated how his thoughts were spiraling, how his emotions felt tangled and messy in a way he couldn’t quite unravel.

“Hyung?” Dino’s voice pulled him back to reality again, and Jeonghan glanced up, his expression carefully composed.

“Yeah?” he asked, his tone calm and even.

“Are you okay? You seem… distracted,” Dino said, his brow furrowing slightly.

Jeonghan gave a small laugh, shaking his head as if to brush off the concern. “I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.”

But as he glanced back across the room, his eyes catching the tail end of Luna and Mingyu’s conversation, that gnawing feeling in his chest remained.

He told himself it was nothing. Just a passing moment of jealousy, perhaps. Nothing he couldn’t shake off.

But deep down, Jeonghan knew better.

Luna knew better as well.

She knew this quiet evening with Mingyu, as comforting as it was, would inevitably end with her peeling back the layers of her conflict with Jeonghan.

She knew Mingyu well enough to recognize that he wasn’t here just to keep her company or to feed her. He was here because he cared, because he had always been the kind of person who would wait patiently until she was ready to share the weight she carried.

Later that night, just as planned, Luna and Mingyu found themselves in her cozy apartment. The smell of her vanilla perfume lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the soft citrus scent of the candle she had lit on her kitchen counter. They were supposed to order takeout, but Mingyu, ever the culinary enthusiast, had other plans.

“You know, you could just sit there and be pretty while I do all the work,” Mingyu teased as he rummaged through her fridge, pulling out ingredients with practiced ease.

Luna, standing across the kitchen island with her arms crossed, raised an eyebrow at him. “And why would I do that when I can help? You do realize I’m capable of cooking, right?”

Mingyu paused, a dramatic look of skepticism plastered on his face. “Capable? Sure. But am I willing to risk my life testing that theory? Not really.”

She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips twitched upward despite herself. “Oh, please. I could outcook you any day.”

“Oh, really?” Mingyu leaned against the counter, smirking at her.

“Really. I’m an amazing cook, Gyu,” Luna huffed, grabbing a wooden spoon from the utensil drawer. “I’m helping, whether you like it or not.”

Mingyu grinned, knowing she wouldn’t back down. “Fine, fine. I’ll give you a task so you don’t feel useless.” He gestured toward the living room with his chin. “Go pick something for us to watch. Something good, okay? No pressure.”

Luna narrowed her eyes at him, but she set the spoon down and wandered into the living room, already knowing exactly what she’d choose.

When she returned a few minutes later, the television glinting as the screen flashed and showed what she chose. Mingyu burst into laughter. “‘Tangled’,” he said, shaking his head fondly. “Why am I not surprised?”

“What’s wrong with ‘Tangled’?” Luna asked, feigning offense as she arranged the table in front of her.

“Nothing,” Mingyu replied, turning back to the stove. “I just knew you’d pick it. You’re predictable, Lulu-ya.”

“Predictable? I’ll have you know that this is a classic,” she said, plopping down on the couch and throwing a cushion at him for good measure.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” Mingyu called back, dodging the cushion with a grin.

The sound of vegetables sizzling in the pan and the faint background score of the movie filled the apartment, creating a warmth that wrapped around them like a blanket.

When the food was finally ready, they settled on the couch with plates in hand, the coffee table serving as a makeshift dining area. The meal was simple— kimchi fried rice with chicken and some stir-fried vegetables— but it was perfect.

As the movie played, Luna found herself laughing more than she had in days. Mingyu kept up a steady stream of commentary, poking fun at Flynn Rider’s exaggerated smolder and mimicking Maximus the horse with over-the-top gestures.

It was silly and endearing, and it was exactly what she needed.

But Mingyu never pushed. He didn’t ask her how she was feeling, didn’t pry into the thoughts she was clearly holding back. He just let her exist, let her enjoy the moment, and it made all the difference.

For now, Luna didn’t have to think about the ache in her chest or the unspoken tension that lingered between her and Jeonghan.

For now, she could just be.

But deep down, she knew better. She knew that before the night was over, the words she had been swallowing all day would finally spill out. And somehow, she also knew that Mingyu would be ready to catch them when they did.

And then it did happen.

It happened in a flash, so subtle yet so significant, that Luna barely registered the words leaving her mouth until it was too late.

Mingyu stood from the couch, stretching his long limbs before heading toward her pantry. He ran a hand through his hair and casually asked, “You want a glass of wine? Thought it might as well be our dessert.”

She was mid-laugh, relaxed for the first time in what felt like ages, when the words slipped out, unbidden. “The last time I drank, I got fucking drunk and told Han I–”

The room fell into an unnatural stillness as her sentence cut short. Her breath hitched, and she froze, eyes dropping immediately to her hands. Her fingers instinctively twisted the gold rings she always wore, a habit Mingyu had seen countless times before. It was her tell, her silent admission of unease.

Mingyu turned slowly, his hand still hovering over the wine bottle. He studied her with the kind of calm that came only from years of reading people. He released the bottle without a sound and walked back toward her.

He didn’t speak, didn’t push, simply sat beside her, his broad frame a steady presence in the quiet room.

Luna felt the couch shift under his weight, but she couldn’t look at him. Her fingers kept twisting, the band of her rings cool against her warm skin. She felt a hand gently rest atop her head, and her tense shoulders eased just slightly at the comforting gesture.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, until she finally closed her eyes and sighed, long and weary. She knew Mingyu wouldn’t force her to speak. But that was precisely why she wanted to.

He deserved to know.

After everything he had done for her tonight— his lighthearted banter, the warm meal, the quiet reassurance he provided without ever needing words— he deserved this piece of her, no matter how raw it felt to offer.

And maybe, just maybe, she needed this too.

“The last time I drank…” she started, her voice shaky, barely above a whisper. She forced herself to keep going, the words tumbling out like a confession she had been holding too tightly for too long. “I got drunk and told Han… told him that I liked him.”

Her voice cracked at the last word, and she bit her lip, still unable to meet Mingyu’s gaze.

Mingyu had known.

He had always known.

From the moment they had met as trainees, it was as clear as daylight. Luna’s feelings for Jeonghan were written in every lingering glance, in the subtle softening of her features whenever he walked into the room, in the way she instinctively gravitated toward him no matter the situation.

It was in the way her eyes sparkled like stars whenever Jeonghan praised her, the way she seemed to orbit around him without even realizing it.

Mingyu knew it because he felt the same way about her.

He knew how it felt to linger in the background, to notice every small detail about someone and hope they’d see you too. He knew how it felt to hide his feelings behind jokes and smiles, burying them so deeply that no one would ever guess.

The difference between them was that Luna’s feelings were as evident as the sun at noon, while his were a well-guarded secret. He had mastered the art of pretending, of hiding his heart in plain sight.

He watched her, his heart aching as she twisted her rings even harder. It was as if she were trying to ground herself, to stop herself from breaking apart completely.

“…And the next day, in the elevator, he told me we wouldn’t work.”

The quiet admission shattered Mingyu’s trance.

His eyes snapped down to her, and he saw her finally look up at him. Her dark eyes were rimmed with tears, glistening under the soft light of her apartment. She blinked rapidly, as if willing them not to fall, but her lips trembled despite her effort to keep her composure.

“Am I too hard to love, Gyu-Gyu?” she whispered, her voice so soft, so heartbreakingly vulnerable, that Mingyu’s chest tightened.

His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldn’t find the words. He could only see the pain in her eyes, the self-doubt she had no business carrying, and the weight of her question that hung in the air between them.

Mingyu swallowed hard, his fists clenching against his knees as a bitter thought crept into his mind.

Can I be him?

Could he be the one who made her laugh, made her cry, made her feel so deeply? Could he be the one her heart longed for so desperately?

Mingyu had tried to push those feelings down for so long, telling himself it was enough just to be her friend. But seeing her like this, so broken over someone else— it hurt. It hurt more than he could have imagined.

Why can’t I be him?

And yet, even as the thought consumed him, Mingyu couldn’t look away. All he wanted, more than anything, was for her to smile again. Even if it wasn’t because of him.

Because that was what love looked like.

And right now, love was a battlefield he was losing.

He wanted to tell her so much— that she wasn’t too hard to love, that she deserved more than she was giving herself credit for, that if only she would let him, he would love her in ways she couldn’t even begin to imagine.

But he also knew this wasn’t about him.

So, instead, he cupped her face in his large, warm hands, his thumbs gently brushing against her cheeks as he steadied her gaze.

“No,” he said, his voice firm yet impossibly soft. “You’re not hard to love, Jiyeonie. Not at all.”

Her tears spilled over then, and Mingyu felt his heart splinter in ways he didn’t think were possible. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, as if he could shield her from every hurt she had ever felt.

And for tonight, he promised himself he would be that person for her— the one she could lean on, the one who wouldn’t let her fall apart.

Luna broke.

It was slow at first, a trembling exhale that Mingyu barely heard over the rush of his own thoughts. Her body stiffened against him, her small frame caught in the vice grip of emotions she could no longer hold back.

Then, with a sound that tore straight through his chest, she broke completely.

Mingyu felt the full weight of her grief as her fingers fisted tightly into his shirt, clutching him like he was the only thing tethering her to the earth. Her tears spilled freely now, soaking the fabric of his shirt as sobs wracked her body.

He didn’t speak, didn’t move beyond the slow, soothing circles his hand traced on her back. He held her tightly, anchoring her, silently telling her she wasn’t alone in this.

It was the first time she’d let herself cry again after last night’s explosive breakdown. Almost twenty-four hours had passed since she’d stepped out of that elevator, leaving Jeonghan behind with a reassuring smile she’d fought to muster. She’d told him it was fine, told him she understood, before the doors slid shut and she was finally, mercifully, alone.

The second she’d stepped into her apartment, the dam had burst. Every ounce of strength she’d held onto collapsed under the weight of his polite rejection. She had screamed into her pillow, sobbed until her chest physically hurt, and curled into herself as the words replayed in her head like a cruel melody:

“…we can’t do this.”

And now, here she was again, sobbing uncontrollably, except this time she wasn’t alone.

Mingyu said nothing as her cries poured out against him. He stayed rooted in place, steady and quiet, letting her grief unfold at its own pace. His hand never stopped its gentle motion against her back, his other arm a firm yet tender hold around her.

He didn’t mind that his shirt was drenched, didn’t care that her nails were digging into him.

All he cared about was her.

When her sobs finally began to soften into quiet sniffles, he shifted slightly, but only to press his lips to the crown of her head in a gesture so soft it was almost reverent.

“You are not hard to love, Jiyeonie,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. He pulled back just enough to tilt her tearstained face up to meet his gaze. His hands cupped her cheeks gently, his thumbs wiping away the streaks of tears on her flushed skin. “You are far from that. In fact, you’re so easy to love.”

Her swollen, teary eyes locked onto his, and he could see the raw emotion swimming in them. Confusion, sadness, disbelief— all of it was there, but she didn’t pull away.

Luna let him hold her, let him speak.

Mingyu exhaled softly, his thumbs brushing over her skin again as he continued. “You care so deeply about the people around you. You go out of your way to make everyone feel seen and heard, even when you’re struggling yourself. You light up every room you walk into, Lulu-ya. People gravitate toward you without even realizing it because you make everything feel lighter, better. You’re kind in ways that most people can’t even fathom. You make people laugh, you make them feel safe. You make me feel safe.”

His voice wavered slightly at the last admission, but he pressed on, unable to stop the words tumbling from his heart. “You’re the type of person who loves so selflessly, and I don’t think you even realize how rare that is. You’re easy to love, Bae Jiyeon. So easy. Anyone who tells you otherwise doesn’t deserve you.”

He let out a shaky breath, the weight of his unspoken feelings threatening to overwhelm him. This wasn’t just about reassuring her— it was a truth he’d been holding onto for years, a truth he’d never been able to say out loud until now.

Luna’s lips parted slightly as she stared up at him, her wide, tear-filled eyes searching his face for something she couldn’t name. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. Her silence said more than words ever could.

Mingyu’s gaze dropped to her lips, lingering there for a moment too long before flickering back to her eyes. And then back again. His breath hitched, and he realized just how close they were, her face cradled in his hands, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them.

Her eyes held sadness, yes, but there was also a flicker of confusion, a question she didn’t yet know how to ask.

His head dipped slowly, so slowly that time seemed to stretch around them. He could feel the pull, the magnetic force drawing him closer to her, but just as his lips were a whisper away from hers, he stopped.

Mingyu froze, his breath shaky as he closed his eyes and let his forehead rest gently against hers.

He sighed deeply, frustration and guilt clawing at him as he scolded himself silently.

What are you doing, Kim Mingyu?

Luna didn’t need this. She didn’t need more confusion, more complications. She didn’t need him taking advantage of her vulnerability.

Luna nudged her forehead against his, a small gesture of concern that only deepened his guilt. “Gyu-Gyu?” she whispered, her voice laced with confusion.

He opened his eyes slowly, finding her gaze still locked on him, her brows knit together as if trying to piece together what he was feeling.

Without a word, Mingyu pulled back just enough to place a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead. His lips pressed against her skin with a tenderness that conveyed everything he couldn’t say aloud.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes met hers again, and he offered her a small, reassuring smile. “You’re going to be okay, Jiyeonie,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a conviction he wasn’t entirely sure he believed. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Mingyu took a deep breath, steadying himself as he stared into Luna’s tear-streaked face. Her eyes, still wide and brimming with confusion, searched his for answers he didn’t yet have the strength to give. But there was one thing he knew with unwavering certainty, one thing he could promise her.

“I’ll make sure you’re okay,” he said, his voice soft yet filled with conviction. His hands, still cradling her face, fell to her shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t know how long it’ll take or how much it’ll hurt, but I promise you, Jiyeonie, I’ll be here. Whatever you need— whenever you need it— I’ll be here.”

The words hung in the air like a vow, unspoken yet understood. He didn’t need her to respond. Her silence, the way her fingers clung faintly to his wrist, was enough.

And with that, he stayed close, letting her process everything in her own time, his presence a silent promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.

And Mingyu kept that promise.

Through the days, the weeks, the months that followed, he was there. Quietly, steadfastly, he became the anchor Luna needed as she worked through the storm raging inside her.

He was the one who showed up unannounced at her apartment with her favorite takeout when he suspected she hadn’t eaten. The one who filled her living room with laughter when he pulled out his collection of terrible dad jokes. The one who dragged her out for morning walks when she felt too drained to even leave her bed, promising her that fresh air and sunshine could do wonders for her soul.

Whenever self-doubt crept into her voice, Mingyu countered it with an unwavering confidence in her. “You’re stronger than this,” he’d say, “and I’m not just saying that because I care about you. You’ve gotten through so much, Jiyeonie. You’re going to get through this, too.”

Whenever fatigue settled into her bones or fear whispered cruel lies into her ear, Mingyu was there. He’d sit with her in silence on her toughest days, a steady presence she could lean on without judgment. He gave her space when she needed it and filled it when she asked.

Mingyu knew when to push and when to wait.

There were days when she would cry, and he would simply hold her. Other days, she would rant about how lost she felt, how fragile she had become, and Mingyu would sit there, listening to every word without interrupting.

Mingyu didn’t try to fix her. He just let her feel what she needed to feel.

And slowly but surely, Luna began to heal.

Her laughter returned, soft at first but growing stronger with each passing day. Her confidence, once so shaken, began to rebuild itself. She started to hum absentmindedly again, a habit Mingyu had always found endearing.

Even her relationship with Jeonghan began to return to normal.

The awkward silences that had once stretched between them disappeared. The lingering tension in their stares faded, replaced by the easy camaraderie they had always shared. They laughed together again, talked as though nothing had happened, and spent time with the rest of the members without the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.

Jeonghan, true to form, never brought up what had transpired between them months prior. He respected her unspoken boundaries, never prying, never pushing. Luna, for her part, was grateful for that.

But no matter how much Mingyu helped her heal— no matter how many of her insecurities and doubts he managed to soothe— there was one thing he couldn’t replace.

Her feelings for Jeonghan.

Even after all this time, even after nearly a year of distance and rebuilding, her heart beat only for him.

It was Jeonghan she thought of in quiet moments, Jeonghan whose laughter still echoed in her mind, Jeonghan whose touch she longed for.

Her heart ached for him, yearned for him, and no amount of time seemed capable of changing that.

Her heart beats only for him; it longs only for him, an unyielding melody that no one else can rewrite.

And Mingyu… Mingyu was content with that.

Because if there was one thing he knew about love, it was that sometimes, love meant putting someone else’s happiness above your own. It meant helping the person you loved most find their happiness, even if that happiness didn’t include you.

After all, you would do anything for love— even if it meant helping your love with their love.

Mingyu marveled at his own heart sometimes, at its strength.

How was it possible to love someone so selflessly, to give so much of yourself knowing you might never get anything in return?

He didn’t know, but he also didn’t regret it.

Then again, Luna’s heart was just as strong, if not stronger.

She had endured the kind of heartbreak that could shatter a person, and yet she had chosen to keep loving. She had chosen to persevere, to hold onto that love even when it felt impossible.

Mingyu thought of her often, of the quiet resilience she carried, of the way she smiled even when her heart was heavy.

She amazed him, and in some ways, she inspired him.

If Luna could endure so much and still love so deeply, then who was he to do any less?

And so, Mingyu stayed by her side, his heart heavy yet full.

Because loving Bae Jiyeon— helping Bae Jiyeon—wasn’t a burden.

It was a privilege.

Jeonghan feels the same.

It was a privilege.

It was a privilege to know Luna, to stand beside her through the years as they navigated the treacherous waters of the idol world. A privilege to work with her, to watch her light up stages with an effortless grace that took his breath away every time. A privilege to call her his best friend, the one person who could read him like an open book even when he thought he was being clever.

And above all else, it was a privilege to be loved by her.

Jeonghan had known since the moment she confessed to him in her apartment, her words slurring slightly from the alcohol but her heart painfully clear.

Luna’s love for him wasn’t something fleeting or shallow. It was deep and real, a kind of love he’d never dared to believe someone like him could deserve.

But it terrified him.

The moment in the elevator the night after when he told her, “We can’t do this,” he knew he’d made a mistake.

The look in Luna’s eyes— the fleeting flash of pain she couldn’t quite mask before she quickly plastered on a smile— was something that haunted him.

He remembered the way she reassured him, her voice trembling slightly as she said, “It’s fine. I was drunk and being stupid.” And then she left the elevator, her head held high, as though the weight of his rejection wasn’t bearing down on her.

But Jeonghan knew her better than that.

He always had.

That night, he couldn’t sleep. His mind replayed every moment of their conversation, every little detail he wished he could take back. He pictured her walking into her apartment, finally letting her guard down, finally allowing herself to cry.

The thought of her alone, her shoulders shaking with sobs he knew she wouldn’t let anyone else see, made his chest ache.

The next day, he noticed the shift immediately.

Luna avoided his gaze in schedules, her usual bright smiles now tempered, softer, almost rehearsed. She threw herself into work with a single-minded focus that even the other members started to comment on. He could see it in the way she laughed at jokes— polite, short, never reaching her eyes. He could see it in the way she distanced herself, not just from him but from everyone, wrapping herself in a cocoon of work and solitude.

And then there was Mingyu.

Jeonghan noticed how Luna began to gravitate toward him.

It started small— a lingering conversation here, a shared laugh there. But it grew, and before long, Mingyu became her shadow, her support, her confidant.

Jeonghan should have felt envious, should have felt angry, but all he felt was gratitude.

Because if anyone could help Luna when she refused to help herself, it was Mingyu.

Jeonghan knew how Luna was.

She wasn’t the type to openly share her emotions, not unless she was pushed. She was the type to bury them, to lock them away until the weight of them became unbearable. And Mingyu… Mingyu had a way of drawing people out, of making them feel safe.

Jeonghan was thankful for him, even if it hurt to watch them together sometimes.

And so, Jeonghan watched.

Silently, slyly, like a fly on the wall, he kept an eye on her.

He noticed the little things— the way her smile faltered when she thought no one was looking, the way her hands fidgeted nervously during group meetings, the way her laugh sometimes felt just a little too forced.

Jeonghan noticed how she stopped seeking him out the way she used to, how her lingering stares disappeared, replaced by a pointed avoidance that cut deeper than he wanted to admit.

He noticed, too, the way Mingyu seemed to bring back pieces of the Luna he knew.

Little by little, she began to laugh more freely, her eyes regaining some of their sparkle. She started to hum to herself again, a quiet melody that Jeonghan hadn’t realized he missed until it returned.

But even as Luna began to heal, Jeonghan couldn’t shake his regret.

He regretted the fear that had gripped him in that elevator, the fear that had made him choose the safe path instead of the one he truly wanted.

Jeonghan regretted making her feel like her love wasn’t worth the risk, like she wasn’t worth the risk.

He regretted the way he had hurt her, the way he had driven her away, the way he had made her question herself. And he regretted most of all that he hadn’t been brave enough to tell her the truth.

Because the truth was, Jeonghan had loved Luna for as long as he could remember.

Jeonghan was in love with Luna.

Hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her in a way that defied logic or reason. It wasn’t something he could pinpoint to a single moment or a singular trait.

From the moment they met as trainees, there had been something about her that drew him in. Maybe it was despite her cold outward appearance, she smiled so beautifully, so bright and unguarded, or the way she laughed, unabashed and full of life. Maybe it was the way she looked at him, like she could see straight through the facade he so carefully crafted.

It was everything, all at once.

It was the way she scrunched her nose when she laughed too hard, her giggles filling the room like sunlight spilling into a dark corner. It was the way she remembered the little things— like how he liked his coffee or how he always needed a nap after a long schedule.

It was the way she seemed to know him better than he knew himself, calling him out on his tricks and teasing him just enough to make him feel seen but never exposed.

He loved the way she carried herself, too— quietly resilient, endlessly kind, and fiercely loyal.

Luna was the type of person who gave her all to the people she loved, and Jeonghan had been one of the lucky ones to be on the receiving end of that love.

Jeonghan loved her then, and he loved her now.

But he had convinced himself that love wasn’t worth the risk.

That the friendship they had built, the bond they shared as members of the same group, was too important to jeopardize. That their careers, their futures, couldn’t withstand the weight of a love like theirs.

And so, he had told her no.

Even now, after everything, after he had hurt her, rejected her, and created a chasm between them, she treated him with the same warmth she gave to everyone else. He could see it was different now, of course— more guarded, more deliberate— but it was still there.

And it made him ache.

Jeonghan had spent countless nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment he told her no.

But now, as he watched her from afar, as he saw the way she smiled at Mingyu, as he noticed the way she seemed to come alive again under his care,

Regret was a constant companion, whispering in his ear, reminding him of what he had given up. It wasn’t just her love he had rejected— it was the possibility of something more, something deeper, something that terrified him because of how much he wanted it.

He wanted to make things right, to take back the pain he had caused her, to give her the love she deserved. But he didn’t know how.

But he was determined to make things right, no matter how long it took.

So, for now, he watched. And he waited.

Even if they could only ever be friends, Jeonghan was willing to accept that. He would rather have her in his life in any capacity than risk losing her completely. He was willing to put in the effort, to prove to her that she was safe with him again, that he could be someone she could trust. He was willing to push his own feelings aside if it meant seeing her happy.

And he hoped, with everything in him, that one day he would find the courage to tell her the truth.

But it wasn’t easy.

Even after months of careful rebuilding, after they had returned to a semblance of normalcy, Jeonghan could still see how Luna clung to Mingyu.

He didn’t blame her. Mingyu had been her rock during the time Jeonghan had faltered, the one who had stepped in when he had stepped away. And Mingyu, ever the gentle giant, had been exactly what Luna needed.

They were behind the scenes of a photoshoot when Jeonghan saw it again.

Luna’s laugh rang out, bright and unrestrained, as she squealed and called for Mingyu. “Gyu-Gyu, look at this!” she said, her voice laced with excitement. She held up her phone, waving it at him as he approached, his face lighting up in that easy, boyish grin Jeonghan had come to know so well.

Mingyu leaned down to look at her phone, his broad shoulders nearly swallowing her small frame as they shared a moment of quiet laughter.

Jeonghan watched from the corner of the room, his hands loosely clasped in front of him, his heart constricting painfully at the sight.

He was happy to see her smile like that, truly happy.

It was the kind of smile that reached her eyes, the kind of smile that had been absent for so long. And he was thankful for Mingyu— deeply, profoundly thankful— for being the one to bring that smile back.

But despite the gratitude that swelled in his chest, another thought crept into his mind, unbidden and unwelcome.

Can I be him?

The question lingered, heavy and bittersweet.

It mirrored the thought that had crossed Mingyu’s mind so many months ago, the same quiet longing, the same resignation.

But where Mingyu’s question had been born from the pain of unrequited love, Jeonghan’s was laced with guilt and regret. Because he could have been him. He could have been the one to make her laugh like that, to stand by her side, to be her rock.

But he wasn’t.

And now, as he watched her with Mingyu, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had forfeited his chance entirely.

Jeonghan’s gaze lingered on them, his heart twisting with an ache he couldn’t quite put into words. He saw the way Luna tilted her head up to meet Mingyu’s eyes, her expression soft and full of trust. He saw the way Mingyu looked at her in return, his own gaze steady and unguarded.

It was a silent conversation, a quiet understanding, and Jeonghan felt like an intruder simply for witnessing it.

It was ironic.

Both Jeonghan and Mingyu were caught in the same cycle, both willing to put their own feelings aside for Luna’s happiness. Both of them aching for something they could never truly have. And yet, where Mingyu’s strength lay in his ability to give selflessly, Jeonghan’s strength was still a work in progress.

He wanted to be better for her. He wanted to deserve her.

But as he stood there, watching her laugh with Mingyu, the question lingered in the back of his mind, haunting him.

Can I be him?

Jeonghan’s breath caught in his throat as he stood frozen, watching the scene unfold before him. Luna and Mingyu were standing just a few feet away, their heads bent together over her phone. She laughed again, her voice light and melodic, and something inside Jeonghan twisted painfully.

She looked so happy.

The kind of happiness that was effortless, unguarded, real.

And yet, all Jeonghan could think was, Am I still the one?

The question clawed at him, desperate and raw, filling him with a fear he couldn’t shake. It wasn’t just the sight of her smiling at Mingyu or the way she leaned into his presence like he was her safe harbor.

It was the possibility that somewhere along the way, Jeonghan had lost her— lost the part of her heart that once belonged to him.

Had she moved on? Had her feelings for him faded, dissolved into nothing but a distant memory of what could have been?

Jeonghan’s fingers tightened into fists at his sides, his chest heavy with the weight of uncertainty. He had no one to blame but himself. He had been the one to push her away, to draw that invisible line between them, to let fear and doubt dictate his choices.

But what if, in doing so, he had extinguished the flame that once burned for him in her heart?

Jeonghan’s mind raced, desperate for answers.

He thought back to every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every smile she had ever given him. He thought about the way she used to look at him, her eyes filled with a kind of quiet adoration that made him feel like he was the center of her universe. He thought about the way she used to laugh at his jokes, even when they weren’t funny, and how she always seemed to seek him out in a crowded room, as if drawn to him by some invisible thread.

Was any of that still there? Or had it all been erased, replaced by something else— someone else?

Jeonghan swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. Please, he thought, his heart aching with the weight of his unspoken plea. Please let me still be the one.

He wanted so badly to believe that he was.

That somewhere deep inside, Luna’s heart still called for him, still craved him, still loved him. That despite everything— despite the hurt, the distance, the months of uncertainty— he was still the one she wanted.

But the fear was relentless, gnawing at the edges of his hope.

What if he was wrong? What if she had already let go? What if Mingyu had become the person she turned to, the person she leaned on, the person she loved?

The thought was unbearable, and yet it lingered, taunting him with its cruel possibilities.

Jeonghan’s eyes flickered back to Luna, watching the way she lit up in Mingyu’s presence, her smile brighter than he had seen it in months. He felt a pang of gratitude for Mingyu, for being there for her in a way that Jeonghan hadn’t been able to. But that gratitude was overshadowed by a deep, aching longing— an unrelenting desire to be the one who made her feel that way.

I can be him, Jeonghan thought, his mind racing with determination. I can be whoever and whatever you want me to be. Just don’t let go of me. Please, Nana-ya. Don’t give up on me.

The words burned in his chest, desperate and silent. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on to this hope, this fragile, flickering belief that he still had a chance.

Jeonghan just needed to know. Needed her to give him a sign, a hint, anything to tell him that he wasn’t too late.

Wait for me, he thought, his gaze softening as he looked at her. Just a little longer. Don’t let go. Don’t let me go, pretty angel.

Because if there was even the slightest chance that he was still the one, Jeonghan would fight for her. He would fight with everything he had, against every fear and every doubt, to be the person she needed.

To be the person she loved.

Jeonghan just needed her to wait. Just a little more.

He can be the one.

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[studioeisa]

like real people do ☢️ seungcheol x reader.

little is known about the apocalypse of 2017. a century later, archivists are now unveiling the relics they found from those who lived through that time.

★ seungcheol x reader.  ★ word count: 2.1k ★ genre: alternate universe: apocalypse, alternate universe: soulmates (the only way for your scars to disappear is when your soulmate kisses them goodbye), angst, romance. ★ warnings: major character death. depictions of death/violence, injuries/scars. established relationship; suggestive scenes but no real smut. set in a fictional apocalyptic world. doubling down on the angst warning; i cannot say with any certainty that this is a happy ending. ★ footnotes: this is part of my follower milestone event. viv gave me an inch (a request for angsty seungcheol) and, in turn, i am giving her a mile (a whole thing instead of just a ficlet). mahal kita, @heartepub! this will be the last hozier brainrot i offer you— for now. + much thanks to @gyubakeries and @tusswrites for beta reading! love you both to the end of the world. ❤️‍🩹

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ like real people do by hozier. apocalypse by cigarettes after sex. i know the end by phoebe bridgers. fourth of july by sufjan stevens. interlude: i’m not angry anymore by paramore. atlantis by seafret. end of beginning by djo. nobody’s soldier by hozier.

When the fish started dying, you did not think: This is how the world will end.

Why would you? The decimation of marine mammals and seabirds didn’t make the news. The misguided scientific breakthrough that triggered everything was kept under wraps.

It isn’t until much later, until the damage is irreparable and the Rapture is imminent, that you will realize it. 

The world as you know it is ending— but at least you have Seungcheol.

There’s some cruelty in the timing of it all. The two of you had just moved in with each other, coasting on the honeymoon phase of a long-term couple with a new thing to share. The paint on your apartment’s walls had yet to dry when the government declared a state of national emergency.

Dozens of other countries followed suit not long after, all blaming one thing or the other. Food crises. Social unrest. Cultural collapse. 

“This is crazy,” Seungcheol grumbles. 

The television is playing clips of a hurricane tearing through the Philippines. Extreme weather conditions, the reporters are saying. Due to the rise of CO₂ levels. 

You and Seungcheol are sprawled out on the floor, watching it unfold. The furniture store meant to deliver your couch has delayed shipment until further notice. 

Seungcheol has always been the sulky type, though the expression on his face nowadays has been less of his trademark pout and more of a serious frown. You can feel his growing agitation in the stiff way he holds you, in the set of his eyebrows. 

“It’s crazy,” you agree quietly, resting your hand on his knee in a bid to calm him a bit. “But it’ll pass.” 

Your touch seems to give some sort of reprieve. He rolls his shoulders. He unclenches his jaw. 

“It’ll pass,” he echoes, reaching out to intertwine your fingers. 

Neither of you knew just how wrong you could be. 

April 8, 2017 

Weird times. Cheol knows just how anxious I get when I’m cooped up, so he encouraged me to pick up journaling. I’m not sure how much this will help, but it’s worth a try. 

It’s been a month since everything has essentially gone on ‘lockdown’. The news says that all of this started because researchers wanted to regulate harmful algae. Their genetically engineered virus ended up infecting all algae, and now the majority of phytoplankton are just... dead. 

I don’t know what to write about. Terrible oxygen levels? Seafood costing a fortune? This ‘work from home’ system everyone is trying to figure out? 

I guess I should just write about the good stuff. That way, when I look back on these entries, I can remember something good.

Today, Cheol tried to fix a leaking faucet himself instead of calling for a plumber. We flooded the kitchen floor, and ended up wet from head to toe.

I cooked pasta, called mom and dad on Skype, and watched the latest episode of Santa Clarita Diet. 

Once everything opens up again, Cheol and I have to visit my parents. (And ‘get better screwdrivers’, he claims.) 

When Seungcheol first kissed you, you did not think: This man is my soulmate. 

It had been a clumsy, shy thing, traded way back when the two of you were high schoolers still stealing away from your eagle-eyed parents. Seungcheol liked to wax poetics about how it was perfect even though you know that first kiss was more a clash of teeth than anything. 

You don’t discover the truth of everything until a couple of years into dating. Seungcheol had gotten into playing basketball, and, one evening, you absentmindedly pressed your lips to a scar he had at the bend of his elbow. 

The mark smoothed out instantly. 

Seungcheol had giggled at the development before spending the rest of the night kissing every inch of your skin that he could reach— injured or not. You still think it’s one of your best memories as a couple. 

Kisses that healed scars. You hadn’t believed in the stories yourself until it had happened to you, until you realized how fortunate you were that your soulmate wasn’t halfway across the world or something. No, you had your soulmate, and he was more than willing to kiss away all your wounds. 

You had counted yourself as lucky. You still think you are, even now, as Seungcheol strokes your hair and holds you to his chest in the pitch black darkness of your apartment. 

His voice is quiet and small when he speaks up. “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” you mutter back. 

“I’m sure this isn’t what you imagined,” he says. “For us moving in together and everything.” 

An amused snort escapes you. Of course that would be your boyfriend’s concern. There’s the rotational power outages and the merciless prices of goods due to inflation, but Seungcheol is worried about your expectations not being met. 

You shift in his hold. The days have been getting warmer and warmer, and the evenings are no exception. Seungcheol has taken to sleeping shirtless. You’re a couple of celsius away from doing the same. 

“It’s not your fault that we decided to move in together for the end times,” you say into the skin of his bare chest. 

He gives the small of your back a light thwack. “What have I said about the apocalypse jokes?” he chides lightly. 

You roll your eyes. He shouldn’t see it in the darkness, but he knows you all too well. “And don’t roll your eyes at me!”

His reprimand draws a short laugh from you. Even that feels like a monumental effort, like it's a waste of good air. 

Seungcheol doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the two of you waking up in pools of your own sweat, doesn’t care that there are whole government newscasts on how to preserve oxygen in enclosed spaces. 

He holds you like a lifeline and kisses you until you’re breathless. 

“Cheol,” you whine against his mouth, the protest already at the tip of your tongue. The end is near; sex should be the last thing on your mind. 

But then Seungcheol’s fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, and he sounds so, so sweet when he mumbles, “Yes, soulmate?” 

That’s always gotten to you. 

“Unfair,” you groan as you work on shucking off your own clothes. “You’re so unfair.” 

In between giggles, he kisses every part of you. Again, and again, and again. 

June 15, 2017 

Cheol and I are on the run. 

He keeps telling me not to call it that because it supposedly makes us sound like criminals. I think it’s just funny, and God knows I need something to find humor in. 

As badly as I want to say “we have gone through worse before,” that would be a lie. We’re out of our apartment and trying to make our way to some place where there’s better air quality. In the meantime, we’re living out of his car. It’s so funny to me that I’ve started laughing until I’m crying. 

Anyway, the good stuff: Today’s sunset painted the sky purple. We snagged some still-cold cans of Sprite in an abandoned 7-Eleven. Cheol spotted a family of ducks crossing the road, pointed it out, and said “us, soon!”

Us, soon. It feels dangerous to hope, but that’s all I seem to do nowadays. That and being on the run. (Cheol made me strike out that last part, but whatever.) 

When Seungcheol finally admits to you that he is scared, you did not think: This means that things are much, much worse than I thought. 

Maybe because there were bigger concerns, like the car’s blinking fuel warning light and the scratches littering Seungcheol’s arms. Like the fool that he was, he had gone against your well-meaning advice to not look for help. 

He did not return unscathed. 

Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you rip open a Band-Aid. It’s one of the few that the two of you have left, and Seungcheol seems to remember the fact. He reaches out to stop you. 

“Hey, c’mon,” he urges, obviously trying to aim for levity. “You know there’s other ways we can fix me up, right?”

The frown that tugs at your lips shows that you’re still less-than-pleased at his little stunt. 

“Maybe if you didn’t head out in the first place,” you grumble. “We wouldn’t need any of this.” 

Seungcheol looks like he might push back, but seems to decide against it at the last minute. Instead, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and gives you a gentle tug. 

“It won’t happen again.” His tone is edged with remorse, enough to almost convince you. Almost. 

“No more playing hero?” you ask. 

A corner of his lip twitches upward. “No more playing hero,” he concedes before tugging at you again. 

You let him. You move closer into his space until you’re practically in his lap, until you’ve got a better view of the angry red cuts on his skin. 

Tentatively, you press chaste kisses to the injuries. Seungcheol’s hands find purchase at your waist and he tilts his head back, letting you work your magic. He’s quiet as your lips trace over each gash and wound, as you take away all the hurt with the ghost of a kiss. 

After a moment, he mumbles, “Is it bad that I want you right now?” 

“Seungcheol.” 

“Okay, okay.” A beat. “I want you all the time, actually.” 

“Shut up!”

The sound of his laughter fills the car. It’s enough to have you forgetting his murmured confession of fear, the vulnerability that he had tried so quickly to cover up with affection. For a moment, there is nothing else in the world except this, except you, except him. 

September 23, 2017

Is it weird to say that I’m starting to forget what it was like before all of this happened? Cheol is trying to assure me that it’s to be expected, that we’ll all be back to ‘normal’ soon, but I don’t even remember what normal is like anymore. 

I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget. And so here is a small list of things I took for granted: 

The first breeze that tells you winter is coming 

The kindness of people who don’t know you 

The smallest fish in the sea

Date nights with Cheol 

Clean water 

Breakfast

My parents

Cheol says there might be some biodomes ahead. Oxygen-regulated habitats. It sounds like something only the rich can afford. We don’t have a lot left between the two of us, and it’s getting harder to jump from building to building. 

But there’s something waiting for us on the other side— right? There has to be. 

May the best of my todays be the worst of my tomorrows. 

When the gunshot rang out, you did not think: This is it.

Seungcheol never gave you any reason to think that way. He had held your hand as you raided rundown grocery stores. He had positioned himself in front of you when there were stampedes. The world might have been ending, but he was with you.

He was with you even when the strangers you ran into started getting more aggressive. He was with you even when fights would break out over necessities like water and medicine. 

“People are dangerous when they're desperate,” he’d tell you softly— still his rational, kind self even when faced with the worst of mankind.

He was with you. He was kind. He was yours. 

Even when the bullet lodged itself right between his ribs. 

There is not much that you remember after that. 

The people dispersed. The cause of the fight— a can of chicken noodle soup, once your comfort food— lay forgotten on the floor.

The love of your life, staring unblinking at the sky.

When you sink to the ground, you’re moving purely on instinct. Your quivering lips press over his chest, over the red blossoming and staining his shirt. 

You kiss him. Again.

And again. 

And again. 

December 1, 2017

The kisses don’t work on bullet wounds. 

▸ Archivist’s note: The following entries are undated and some portions had been redacted/deemed untranscribable. We are led to believe that the author struggled to cope in the aftermath of their soulmate’s death. For posterity, we have still reprinted their final entries.

You’re so unfair. 

I still want you. 

Things I took for granted: ███████, you, ███████, youyouyou. 

What now? 

My love, it’s only a matter of ███████—

▸ Archivist’s note: Nothing follows.

This concludes our transcribed logs. The full collection can be viewed at the National Museum of Remembrance.

It is our deepest regret that the author is unnamed and that they cannot be properly credited. However, we know of two things with certainty. 

We know of a man named Seungcheol, and we know that he was loved. 

[justmeinadaze]

November Rain (Part 5) (Eddie X Plus Size Y/N)

Warnings: Older (Late 30s) Daddy Eddie/ Young (early 20s) Plus Size Sub Fem Y/N, Light Smut, Fluffy I love you smut, light dirty talk, etc.

ANGST *Poses for an angsty picture with an angst photographer who has been paid in angst* Mentions of cheating, Y/N get smacked (brief), Eddie takes care of her and makes her feel safe, Eddie finalizes his divorce (brief), Ava causes ALL the problems, cliffhanger ending.

Shit gets real!

Enjoy <3

Word Count: 3955

Series here/Donate to Me

“I know this is probably a dumb question but how is everything going?”

Eddie smiles as he reads your message while he waits for his ex-wife to come in so they can proceed with finalizing everything for their divorce.

“It’s going.”

“Guess who she brought for moral support.”

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“I wish you could be here.”

“That sounds weird. I’m sorry.”

“Why would anyone wish someone they care about could come see a divorce proceeding?”

“Idiot, Munson.”

“Eddie! Lol. I know what you meant.”

“But I’m going to see you tonight and I promise to take care of you, Daddy ;).”

“Alright, guys thank you for your patience. We just wanted to run through everything here. Now we want to make it clear that Mr. Munson is asking for nothing thus will get nothing.”

“Yes, he knows words, Jerry. Nothing means nothing.”, Eddie’s lawyer sasses as he rolls his eyes. “Fortunately for your client, he’s gone against my advice when it comes to getting things that should be owed to him including documenting the infidelity.”

“What?”, Ava asked causing all eyes except Eddie’s to turn her way. “That’s an option?”

“Um, yes. Instead of filing for the divorce on grounds of infidelity, Mr. Munson chose ‘irreconcilable differences.’”

“Why?”

“Does it matter?”, his lawyer snapped.

“What? So he can seem like the fucking good guy?!” As Ava begins to yell, her lawyer hastily pats her arm hoping to shush her before she pushes herself into a corner. 

“I didn’t want it on record. Again, that part of our marriage should be between me and you. No one else.”, Eddie hisses under his breath while continuing to glare at the table in front of him. “Honestly, at this point whatever gets this done faster I’m ok with. I don’t want money or the physical stuff. I just want to move on with my girlfriend and my boxing career and be happy.”

His ex’s eyes scanned him over at the word “girlfriend” and remained on him till the papers were ready to be signed. The metalhead couldn’t scribble his name down fast enough but as soon as he did, he gathered his things and hastily exited the room. 

***

“Ok, sweetheart, smile.”, Eddie’s uncle beamed as he took a photo of Paige in her graduation gown holding her diploma with his hand-held camera. 

“I don’t know if you know this, old man, but phones can do that now.”, his nephew teases making you and your friend giggle as Wayne narrows his eyes his way. 

It had been a few weeks since Eddie’s divorce and he had just fairly recently started getting back to his old self. You spent as much time as you could at his apartment comforting him and listening to him break down as he vented. 

“I’m sorry, baby. Fuck! Why do I feel this way?”, he growled at himself.

“It’s ok, honey. It makes sense. I mean, you had a whole life and family with this woman. You loved her once and she hurt you.”

Tugging you into his arms, he held you to his chest. 

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Said the man who used a flip phone till like 2017.”, Paige joked.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.”, Eddie threw back before stepping forward to wrap his arms around her. “I’m so proud of you.”

You softly smiled as he kissed her forehead, praying that nothing would ruin this moment for either of them. 

The three of you weren’t that lucky. 

“Oh my God, sweetie, I’m so proud of you.”, Ava cried as she came forward to pry her daughter out of the metalhead’s arms to hug her tightly. 

Eddie and her boyfriend locked eyes before the long-haired man nodded silently signaling that he didn’t want any trouble today and the other man seemingly agreed, nodding back. 

“Can you believe it, Edward? Or daughter is a college graduate…again!”

“Nope. Can’t believe it at all.” As he forced a smile, Wayne patted his back comfortingly. “So, uh, we’re taking her to lunch and then I’ll have her back to you for dinner—”

“Oh…why don’t we all have lunch? I thought that was the plan anyway.”

“I, uh…” Your boyfriend’s protective eyes flick to his daughter before shifting your way and back to his ex. “I don’t know if that would be appropriate.”

“Why not? We can all get along for one day I think, right, Paige?”

When your friend looked at you, you flashed her a soft smile as you took her hand. 

“It’s up to you, sweetheart.”, you whispered. 

“O-Ok, I guess that’s fine.”

***

Nothing about this lunch was fine.

While Wayne tried to start casual conversation, the tension between Ava and Eddie was palpable to say the least. 

“So, what are your plans now, Paige? Got a job lined up?”, he asked as she took a sip from the glass in front of her. 

“Um, yeah, kind of. There’s this museum downtown that wants to hire me to review and authenticate art. I’ve also been saving for a studio so I hope I can get that soon.”

“How much more do you need?”

“The down payment is $2500 and I’m about halfway there.”

“I have that if you need it, baby.”, Eddie offers making his daughter smile as she politely shakes her head. 

“Thank you but I want to do this myself.”

“I can understand that.”

“I’ll bet he does.”, her mom sassed under her breath causing her ex to shift his gaze her way. “Always did things all by your lonesome without consulting or worrying about me or your family.”

“Ava…”

Your hand on his thigh gave him pause as he heavily exhaled and leaned back in his seat. 

“I’m, um, I’m going to run to the bathroom. Y/N, will you…?”

“Yeah, of course.”

As soon as the both of you are out of sight, his ex-wife tilts towards him and points her finger in his face. 

“Why are you always trying to be the hero?”

“I’m her father.”

“Oh, like that really fucking matters to you.”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Ava. Our daughter just graduated college; can’t we fucking celebrate that? This is about her not us.”

“No.”, she hisses. “This is about you. Everything was always about you!”

“I’m not doing this.”, he repeated sternly. 

“Oh, you aren’t? You think your father of the year? You put everything over me and that little girl. First it was music, then it was boxing and now it’s your girlfriend.”

Eddie glared her way as his face scrunched in anger. 

“My girlfriend is none of your fucking business, Ava. I fought for years to make you happy but you always chose this fucker even when you gave me that fucking ultimatum. I’m finally with someone I don’t have to convince to treat me like a fucking person and who doesn’t fucking cheat on me.”

“You cheated on dad?”, Paige asked startling everyone at the table especially her father. “When? With him?”, she inquires as she points to her mother’s boyfriend. “You said you met him after dad left…that Dom helped you heal!”

“He did, honey.”, she tries to sooth, rising to her feet.

Your eyes meet Eddie’s, completely unsure of what to do but he seems equally lost as he also stands and allows things to play out. 

“When did you meet him? Before or after dad left?”

“Paige—”

“Answer me!”

At her outburst, people in the restaurant turned to look towards them. 

“Maybe we should head home to talk about this.”, Wayne interjects trying his best to be diplomatic. 

“Answer me, mom.”

“Did I meet Dom before Edward left for good, yes, but he was gone way before that. I was on my own most of the time and—”

“Don’t lie to her. The first time I caught you, I told you if you left him I would do everything in my power to work on us and even stopped boxing for a while but you kept seeing him so I left.”

“Why…why didn’t you say anything?”

“You had such a close relationship with your mom…I didn’t want to ruin that. Plus, like I tell you both, what happens between your mom and I should be between us. I never wanted you to get involved.”, Eddie answered honestly. 

“Oh please! I’m the bad parent here because I talked to my kid!?”

“Good wording, Ava. Ignoring the fact that you fucking lied!”

“You’re a liar to, Edward Munson!”, she spat as he looked at her with confusion. “Come on…it’s obvious your fucking Y/N.” Everyone at the table became silent as your eyes widen. “The way he looks at her, pulls out her chair, and smiles at her fucking compliments. He used to be that way with me in the beginning…”

Paige’s mouth drops in shock as she tries to understand the information coming at her. 

“No…No. Dad’s polite…he’s always been that way…Right?”, she asks as her gaze shifts towards him. “Right?”                

Eddie comes around the table to hastily grab her palms. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never meant to hurt you. We met before either of us knew you were her roommate.”

  Silently, her bottom lip shakes as she yanks her hands from his grasp and power walks out the front door, ignoring the sound of your heels following after. 

“Paige, wait, please. Let me explain.”

At the sound of your voice, she stops dead in her tracks and turns to smack you hard. 

“After everything I’ve done for you, this is the thanks I get! God, you must think I’m really stupid, huh!? Us sitting there talking about your ‘boxer guy’ and me not knowing that you’re a fucking whore!”

“HEY!”, Eddie bellows as he comes up from behind you to face her. “I know you’re upset and you have every right to be, Paige Elizabeth Munson but that’s the woman I love so you will treat her with respect.”

“Respect?”, she cackled. “You didn’t show me respect when you decided to fuck one of my friends! Glad to know both my parents are despicable human beings!”, she growled as her mom finally came out as well before bobbing her head around her father to point your way. “You have 30 days to get your shit out of my apartment. Consider this your eviction notice.”

With that she turned and climbed in her car before speeding down the road. 

“We need to follow her.”

“Do we, Ava?!”, the metalhead screamed making you jump. “What are we going to say?! Because obviously you wanted to start a fucking a fight! What the fuck is wrong with you?! This was her graduation!”

“So it was ok for her to find out about my indiscretion today?!”

“SHE DIDN’T NEED ANY OF THIS TODAY! This why I wanted to take her to lunch privately!!”

“Ok, let’s calm—”

“Don’t you fucking speak or I swear to God.”, Eddie threatened Dom, stepping forward to intimidate him until his uncle quickly slid between them. 

“No. Paige is most important and both of you are her parents. Ava and Eddie, go find her. Dominick, son, I highly recommend you go home. This is between Paige and them. I’ll take Y/N back to my hotel and look after her till you’re done.”

As if he just remembered you were there, the boxer swung around and abruptly pulled you to his chest. 

“Are you ok?”

“No…go find your daughter, Eddie.” Cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs dried your tears that had begun to fall. “Go, Eddie. Now. GO!”, you shout he when hesitates to let you go as you shove his chest. 

“I got her, Ed. She’s safe with me.”, his uncle insisted as he wrapped a protective arm around your shoulders. 

The man’s eyes didn’t leave yours till he reached his motorcycle, hastily jumping onto it, and riding away in the direction Paige left in. 

####################

You listened to Wayne move about his hotel room as you tried to control the tears that were endlessly flowing. 

“Alright, honey, this is going to be cold.” You wince as he places a cold beer from his minibar against the growing bruise on your face. “I’m sorry. There’s no first aid here but the alcohol in that box there costs enough that it damn well should heal all wounds.”, he chuckles, smiling to himself when you breathily do the same. 

Again, he moves about and after a moment pushes what looks like an album into your field of view. 

“I bring that with me when I travel…mostly to embarrass Eddie.”

Slowly, you open the cover, smirking when you see a younger Wayne holding what you assume to be his baby nephew. 

“Yeah, I think that was the one and only time he was ever not talking.”, he teases as you flip the page. “That’s his mom and dad there; Elizabeth and Allen. She loved that kid more than anything.”

When your eyes met his, he heard the silent question reflect within them. 

“I think…my brother loved himself more than he ever loved them…which is why it kills my nephew that Ava makes those digs at him about him being selfish.”

Your head hung as you kept looking through pictures, softly smiling at the images of Eddie laughing with his mother or making funny faces at his uncle while he was doing something outside of the trailer. When you got to his high school photos, you fingers traced his face that seemed bright and hopeful. 

Him playing his guitar or D&D with his friends had a grin stretching wide but they didn’t compare to the one he wore when he was holding his newborn daughter. 

“When he found out Ava was pregnant, he was terrified but that first time he held her he told me it was like all his worries faded away and he knew he would do anything for that baby.”

With every photo, Paige got older but Eddie’s smile and the unconditional love in his eyes never faltered. 

“I keep this one in the back for obvious reasons but…” Tilting over you, he flips through the pages and pulls out a couple of images you immediately recognize as a young Eddie and Ava. He looked as handsome as ever in what you assume was a wedding photo with him in a tux and her in a white dress vaguely hiding her little baby bump. “Everyone kept calling it a ‘shot gun wedding’ but my nephew shut them down quick. ‘No, I love her. That’s my girl.’ He never wanted her to feel like they were getting married because they ‘had to’.”

A couple more pictures were behind it with Eddie kissing her cheek and Ava gently smiling at the action while another had him hugging her but she seemed to be pushing him away even while donning a small grin. 

“These past few months, he’s talked about a new girl he met but he never said your name. He just said it was complicated. Y/N, you should hear the way he talks about you…I’ve never once heard him sound that way about her. He seems so much happier since he met you… After everything that boy has been through, he deserves you.”

You started to sob and Wayne pulled you to his side as he tried to comfort you. 

A knock on his door had him promptly standing to answer it and as soon as Eddie saw your face from the doorway, he flew past his uncle to sit beside you, tugging you into his chest as he pet your head. 

“What happened with Paige?”, Wayne asked as he leaned against the dresser across from you both. 

“I, uh, we couldn’t find her but I called her boyfriend who said he’d keep an eye out for her so I think she’s with him. If she really wasn’t there he would have said he was going to go look for her to. He’s a good kid like that…”, he answered. 

“Do you want me to stay, Ed?”

The man holding you sighs as he shakes his head. 

“Naw, you don’t have to. I’m sorry for today—”

“No reason to be sorry, son. I’m used to being the referee.”, he laughs as his eyes scan you both over. “You should take her home so you two can rest and talk.”

After hugging his uncle, Eddie clings to your hand as he guides you to his motorcycle and puts on your helmet for you. As he straddles his bike and starts the engine, your arms wrap around him tightly causing his head to turn slightly when he hears your sniffles. 

The entire ride to his apartment, he kept one hand on the bike handle and the other on your leg or the back of your palm around his waist. At every stop light, your hands would press against his chest as you squeezed him a bit harder like a little girl does with a teddy bear when she’s scared. 

You were dropping and he could feel that energy radiating from you. 

You were terrified you were about to be in the same situation you had been when you and your ex broke up; a place you never wanted to be again. 

You just wanted to feel safe. 

###################

As soon as you both entered his apartment, Eddie allowed his protective mode to fully kick in as he took off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and took hold of your hand to lead you to the bathtub. 

Your eyes remained downcast as you listened to him turn on the water and throw in all the smells he knew you loved. Placing himself on the edge, he gently pulled you between his legs and carefully removed your dress along with your undergarments, tossing them to the side. 

A tear rolled down your cheek and he caught it with his thumb as he caressed your face. 

Once the bath was ready, he guided you in before suddenly disappearing. Your sad irises searched for him but he came back fairly quickly, flashing you a hair tie and taking off his slacks so he could sit behind you. 

You hummed lightly as his fingers gently massaged your head, threading through your hair gradually as he took his time pulling it out of your face. 

Eddie’s heart broke as he listened to you try to contain your tears, sliding down into the warm water to softly kiss your skin while holding you in his embrace. 

“Oh, Eddie, your shirt and your—”

His index finger on your lips silenced as he shook his head. 

“I don’t care.”, he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder. “All I care about right now is you.”

“Should you?”, you whisper as your vision clouds once again. “I know how much you care about your daughter. You lost so much time w-with her because of Ava… I don’t want to be the reason you lose her again.”

“Y/N, I gave up music to become a husband and father. I gave up boxing to work in a grungy mechanic shop to take care of my family. I gave up my reputation so my daughter could have a relationship with her mother. My dad and my ex-wife both gave up on me… I even gave up on myself for a while there…but then I met you.”

His calloused fingers firmly grip your cheeks, craning your neck so your eyes could meet his.

“I will NOT give up on you.”

Water splashes out of the tub as you turn around to straddle him as you cling your arms around his neck and push your face into him as you sob. 

“Everything’s ok, baby. I got you.”

When your bath became too cold, the metalhead rose to his feet to grab a towel and dry you off before doing the same with himself. As he began to walk towards his closet to get you a shirt to wear, you pulled on his wrist and shook your head.

Tossing a smirk your way, he walked you to his bed where you both crawled naked under the covers laying on your sides facing each other. 

“You said you loved me. Did you mean it?”

His brown eyes search yours for a moment before silently nodding. 

“I figured it was kind of obvious but I’ve been in love with you since I saw you from the ring.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to scare you. I have said it a few times but you were asleep.”

Scooting closer to him, you place your arm over his hip and run your fingers down his back while in return he does the same with you. 

“I love you, Eddie.”

As he places his forehead against yours, a heavy sigh escapes his chest as his eyes close. 

“Say it again, please.”, he whispers. 

Your lips hover near his and he whines slightly at the pleasurable feeling of your warm breath.

“I love you, Eddie Munson.”

The man practically growled as his mouth crashed to yours.

“I love you to, Y/N… so fucking much…you’re safe with me, baby, I promise.”

As his kisses became more passionate, you felt the needy energy between the two of you grow.

“Make love to me, Daddy…please.”

At your plea, he firmly pushed you onto your back, sliding one of his arms behind your head and pulling you closer to his chest. After lifting the leg that was closest to him over his hip, you whimpered at the sound of him licking his palm before stroking his spit along his shaft and gradually entering your core. 

While one of your arms circled around his neck, the other held his hand as he began slowly thrusting his cock deeper inside you inch by delicious inch. 

“Oh my God…”

“I got you, sweetheart. You’re my girl and I’m—fuck—I’m gonna take such good care of you.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

Eddie continued to whisper in your ear as his pace steadily hastened and your eyes rolled shut as you absorbed every word. 

“I love you, baby girl. I’m gonna buy you a nice house where Daddy c-can have you in every room. I’m…I’m gonna work hard so I can buy my girl anything she wants. I’m gonna take you on dates and show you off because you—mmph—you deserve to be seen.”

“E-Eddie…”

Your whine drives him crazy, licking the tips of his fingers and pressing them perfectly against your clit causing you to moan louder. The man’s nose grazes your cheek as he pants and you can’t help but keen into the beautiful sound.

“S-Say it again, Y/N.”

“I love you, baby. Fuck, M’gonna cum.”

“Daddy’s got you, honey. It’s ok, let go.”

Your body trembles as you moan his title, his fingers continuing to play with your clit as you come undone.

“That’s my good girl. My perfect girl.”

His large palm cups your breast as he chases his high and your lips connect to his as your tongues dance together. 

Pulling away slightly, his nose scrunches as he grunts and you feel his release paint your walls. 

“Are you ok?”

You nod, wincing slightly as he pulls his softening cock out of your pussy and you roll onto your side again to face him. Placing his hand on your back, he pulls you close once more and you can’t help but giggle as he places gentle kisses on your forehead down to your nose. 

“Y/N?”, Eddie whispers, his eyes still closed as he tenderly keeps caressing your skin, smirking cheekily when you respond with a sleepy hm.

“Will you marry me?”

###############

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @micheledawn1975 @hardladyheart @chelebelletx @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @paleidiot @alphabetically-deranged @sophiejayne-illustrations713 @yesimabratandwhataboutot @idkwhattoputhere08 @gryffindorqueensworld @mewchiili @veemoon @heavenlyhorrors @twirls827 @jamiecb66 @chelebelletx @longpondlibrary @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @hellv1ra @utterlyinsanity @eddiesclub @wiinterwiidow @stylesxmunson @daveythorntonslocker @eddiesguitarskills

[ineedpaigebuckets]

your world

an: i don't know who the fuck let me write this, or why it was even written but i hope you enjoy.

this is dedicated to my wife @ldapper of course because she thinks i don't love her like what the fuck.

also this isn't proof read AT ALL so have fun.

--------------------------------------------------------------

azzi pov

it all started the day we won gold. my best friend and i, we did it we won the championship, together. and the second the buzzer sounded and everyone started screaming i saw a certain blonde turn around and before i could wrap my arms around her she grabbed my jersey and pulled me into her chest. i hugged her with the biggest smile i think i could ever imagine.

things had been rocky recently, we'd been with eachother 24/7 for so long that we'd just developed these feelings, these confusing feeling neither of us new how to deal with. so i guess we just mutually decided, they didn't need an explanation. but right now, in this moment, her head turning and i feel her lips brush against my neck pressing a soft kiss to the skin, everything feels just right.

"so fucking proud of you az." i hear her soft voice in my ear but before i could respond she pulls away but keeps her hand across my back for a second too long.

in that moment i realized that the is wasn't some bullshit, one sided feelings. it was something about the way we just fell into each others arms, melted in each others embrace like we needed eachother. we did need eachother, in ways nobody else would ever understand.

i was still in disbelief as i walked into my room, stripping off my jersey and throwing on a sweatsuit, laying on my bed and just closing my eyes basking in the glory of winning a gold metal. a huge smile across my face.

paige pov

the second i step into my room the weight of the win hit me. i promised myself i'd get the girl, i promised myself i'd fucking make her mine before we won the title. i'd been trying to make her mine since i first watched her tournament in 2015, but she didn't want anything to do with me. the second i saw the way her messy curls bounced out of her braids, her big soft lips, and her dark sweet eyes, i knew she just had to be mine. by the time we officially met on team usa in 2017 i'd gotten far enough to make her my best friend, but no matter what i did she never seemed to understand how fucking in love with her i was. every small touch, every meaningless kiss to some random part of her skin, went completely unnoticed. i was always set on my goals, i'd do anything physically possible to make my deadlines on time. so, i knew what i had to do. i had to make that girl mine by midnight.

i'd somehow found a florist that was open at 9:30 pm and i'd never called an uber faster in my life. i'd managed to pick up a fairly small arrangement of pink flowers, her favorite color. i'd ran to the convenient store nearby, flowers in hand looking like an absolute idiot, but i was on a time crunch what could i say. i'd picked up the cutest little jellycat, a small pink heart with a lock connecting it to a purple heart. it was absolutely perfect, i'm the purple to her pink, or so i like to think. i wandered the store for a while longer finally finding what i wanted. a small olaf blanket, i just needed a little of everything for my girl.

now here i was standing like an absolute idiot outside of azzi fudds door at 10 pm. flowers in my right hand, my left holding the jellycat, and the blanket thrown over my arm.

"az open up." i mumble through the door trying not to wake anyone else on the floor up. i hear a soft groan as she opens the door causing me to chuckle. i didn't even wanna know the amount of blush covering my face right now. i watched her stand still her breathing not fast, not slow, but different.

"who's this for?" she asks in a low voice opening the door a little more to let me through. she knew damn well this was all for her.

"it's for you. i gotchu flowers because, i don't know every beautiful girl like you deserves as many flowers as she can get." i place the flowers down taking a deep breath not even close from stopping my rambling. "and, i found these hearts, purple for me pink for you. and there's a lock like, like we're locked. uh, best- we're locked." i fight the urge to say best friend, everything going downhill as i fumble over my words. and she's just fucking standing there. leaning against the dresser, her eyes big and soft looking up at me. her lips parted slightly asking me to just feel them against my own. "and here's a blanket, olaf, your favorite." i keep it short and sweet trying desperately not to mess up any more sentences.

"what's it for?" i close my eyes and set everything down against the dresser. i muster up the last bit of confidence i can, and walk up to her cupping her delicate cheeks in my hands.

"it's for you azzi. no other reason than- fuck." i couldn't get a fucking sentence out. i let my forehead rest against hers and close my eyes. "you deserve the world baby, if you just give me a chance, imma give it all to you, and more." i whisper, the feeling of having my eyes closed giving me just enough confidence to say what i finally needed to say. i push back my eyes still closed as i pressed my lips against her forehead. those big brown eyes never coming off of my face.

"holy shit, holy shit, that's what this has been this whole time?" she asks almost surprised and i feel her hands grab my shirt right by my shoulders. she shakes my shoulders but the smile on her face is irreplaceable. if only i could see that everyday.

"you're an idiot paige." she giggled and before i could even think her lips were on mine. i melt into her body, letting any ounce of confidence move right from my body into hers, as my hands grip the back of her head. her hands find my waist bringing me in closely and i think i could just die right here.

"give me your world paige, and i'll give you mine." the second the words left her mouth i knew she'd be my wife. azzi jazlyn fudd was mine, what fucking idiot would i be to ever let her go again.

[two-white-butterflies]

★ — imgonnagetyouback | max verstappen

Description: Max ends the relationship with a phone-call.

Pairing: actress!reader/max verstappen

Disclaimer: Everything written in this fanfic holds no truth about anyone's personality or actions. It is made purely for entertainment.

A/N: everything i do used to be inspired by the 2014 ver. grimes. reader is unhinged as her, but gets development in the end!! THIS IS AN ODE TO THE "MONSTER" TITLED FIC I READ ABOUT LEE PACE.

"Let's break up."

Let's break up.

You could still hear the aftertaste of his voice on your ears. How nonchalant he sounded while denying a relationship of seven years. Why was he quick to leave? Did he find someone else?

You sniffled, wiping your snot with a tissue on your right.

I'm gonna get revenge.

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yourname: me, the dogs and @edmundquandt

liked by 728,391 others

>comments

maxversworldargentina: huh isn't she dating max? did u break up?

reversethismess: Who is he?

victoriaverstappen: ❤️

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Y/N L/N AND FORMULA ONE DRIVER, MAX VERSTAPPEN CONFIRM THEIR BREAKUP.

Yesterday UMG Inc. Agency released a statement to SSN confirming the breakup between Y/N L/N and her Formula One boyfriend.

The pair began to date each other in 2017, where Verstappen was accepted into Toro Rosso and Redbull Racing. They have been together for 7 years and have been dubbed as the most iconic couple in the Formula One paddocks.

Rumors between the two splitting emerged late March, however the couple affirmed that they were still dating each other. On December, however the netizens were greeted with radio silence.

According to L/N's team: the breakup was mutually agreed upon, as they grew apart from all the travelling required for their job.

>comments

grills93: I can't make it go away by making you a villain, I guess it's the price I pay for seven years in heaven.

lnworld: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AND HER NEW INSTA POST WITH EDMUND???? NOOOOOOO

carshfo: she defo cheated with edmund bcs no way lol

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Max's pulse was racing at the sight of you around another man's arms. Seeing your arms wrapped around his shoulders, leaning into him for balance as you laughed at a joke that wasn't funny at all. "- and then we found out that there wasn't a building in the hotel with those rooms." Edmund finished his joke.

By that time, you were already laughing uncontrollably.

Max clenched his jaw.

A piece of his heart regretted breaking up with you.

"Control yourself mate, he's a big investor." Yuri reminds.

Max didn't give a flying fuck. He didn't own any Redbull stocks. He's a good driver, this Edmund Quandt has nothing on him. His features only soften once he remembered the reason why he broke up with you. He wanted to focus more on his career. He wanted to test the pond for more fish.

He needed upgrades on his car.

Fuck.

He needed to chafe his knees for this guy.

"Funnily enough, when I was in Texas I had a similar encounter. I knew exactly what to do." Edmund placed a hand on the small of your back. Max prevents his eyelids from twitching.

Charles smiles, showing the crowd his dimpled cheeks. Charles always had the ability to charm other people. He was perfect, and now he's friends with Mr. Quandt whom he only met.

"I'm sorry for asking this Edmund, but are you two...?" Charles paused, allowing the other man to fill in the blanks. Edmund smiles - pearly white teeth and a godly physique.

Max doesn't fail to observe the glance that Edmund gives you, a look that asked for your permission.

"We're dating each other, for a month now - but we're still testing the waters." you chuckled, ignoring the presence of your ex-boyfriend despite his figure melancholily staring at you.

"I just want to put a ring on her." Edmund admits.

The other people fade into the background.

"My father always says, give her a ring with a big diamond so she won't be able to see how much of a monster you are." he teased.

"You're not a monster." your eyebrows merged into each other.

Max wanted to punch the air.

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yournamepriv: i love this big baby 🥺 @e123456

liked by 92

>comments

haileybeiber: i love this for u omgg

sophierichiegrange: So cute ❤️🥺

e123456: You got my good side! - yournamepriv: Ur good side is 360 degs

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Max takes a deep breath. Again.

You forgot to remove him as a mutual in your private account. And he was greeted by a picture of you kissing Edmund Quandt. His mind raced through a million different thoughts. Regret, anger, resentment - but they were mostly filled of regret.

He didn't appreciate what he got, and now it's gone.

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maxandynfanbase: do you get deja vu? 😭

liked by lewishamilton and 72,192 others

>comments

mercyplease9: EDMUND IS SO TALL??

ohnoaosd9: lewis we can see u 💀

holyhell1: i like pic 2 more

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yourname: visited some mangrove swamps with this big baby. 🥺your integrity makes me seem small... #savethemangroves tagged: edmundquandt

liked by maxverstappen, lewishamilton and 1,283,923 others

taylorswift: You and Edmund have the KINDEST heart. - yourname: thanks taytay i wanna see u and trav here next time - taylorswift: Will do! I'll tell you when my schedule clears up. - yourname: love u ❤️

haileybeiber: We love a momma who cares

sophierichiegrange: <3

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"I can't believe she's out there helping the fucking mangroves." Max places his phone on the couch.

He couldn't believe your sudden change in tune, that drastic of a change to come from someone like you? "She used to complain being in the EU because it meant not using plastic straws." he breathed, still choosing to believe that you were like him.

Still the same crazy. Still the same stupid.

"She's really being fake for him." he shook his head.

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yourname: i totes know how to play 🎾 this friday we're having an event for all the young racecar drivers that unfortunately can't afford to pursue the sport. all proceeds will go to @bmwfoundationsports and the @grandprixtrust !!

liked by edmundquandt and 1,283,912 others

>comments

edmundquandt: ❤️

CharlesLeclerc: Will be in attendance. 🫡

oracleredbullracing: We love a Queen with a good heart

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maxverstappenupdates: Max Verstappen in @bmwfoundationsports and @grandprixtrust.

liked by kellypiquet and 23,392 others

>comments

youalloverme: HE LOOKS SO SAD...

maxismybf: Hadnsumm

posyposie: wondering if a dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life

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He takes another sip of his whiskey, forgetting about the cameras that snapped his figure left and right. There were a million things he wanted to say to you, but he wanted to start with a question.

"I never imagined seeing you change yourself for a guy." he scoffed.

You turned around with your eyebrows raised. Flabbergasted at his insinuation. "Change myself?" you repeated the word, finding it to be hilarious on his tongue.

"The whole save the earth, save the kids thing - you don't care about that. I understand though, money is money and your boyfriend has a lot of that." Max allowed the alcohol to speak in his behalf.

"You don't have the right to talk about me or my integrity. You abandoned me, remember?" you argued, feeling anger pulse through your veins.

Since he left, you tried to make yourself better.

"When I was with you, we were both horrible people. Quite literally the rich people cliche that we promised not to become. I guess you were right, we weren't growing together - and now I've become a better person without you - all because of Edmund." you gritted your teeth, grabbing the champagne on the table before the media realized that the 'ex-lovers' were talking to each other.

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(PRE-EDMUND QUANDT.)

I'm gonna get revenge.

That night you planned to ruin his chance at winning by exposing a flaw in the car that would allow the other drivers to overtake him. A button outside of the car - with the engineers that could remotely turn off a key engine that allowed his car to move faster.

He told you about it because driving at that speed endangers his life, and if you were the only one in the administration panel that knew about it - he made it your duty to push that button.

You grabbed your laptop, sneaking inside the garage. "What are you doing?" a voice emerged from behind you, and you momentarily stopped with the program.

You turned around - only to be greeted with your ex-boyfriend, Edmund Quandt. A man that your parents adored. A man whom everyone thought was going to become your husband, and he was here - behind you. Looking at you.

"Just grabbing my things, I won't be here anymore." you lied. Despite your obvious lie, he chose to give you the benefit of the doubt. He always kinda chose to see the better side of a person, rather than thinking the worst of them first.

"Oh why is that?" he asked with a smile. "Because of things..." you evaded the question - not wanting to rant about your other ex-boyfriend that broke up with you because of a phone call.

"Are you done with grabbing your things?" his eyes narrowed.

"Oh yeah." you breathed.

You had to evade your plan of revenge.

"Do you want to grab some coffee?" he offered.

"Of course."

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Max Verstappen I'm really sorry for doing that. Must be all the Whiskey I drank 😅

Y/N L/N Drunk actions are sober thoughts, Max

Max Verstappen I still shouldn't have confronted you It's just really weird seeing you post things like save the turtles, donate to the kids we never gave a fuck about those 😆

Y/N L/N Yeah, I didn't care about them But now I do We used to be the same but now we aren't

Max Verstappen ?

Y/N L/N You broke up with me because you wanted to focus on your career Because all you care about is money and success We both got stuck on that We didn't see the value in other things When we broke up, Edmund brought me back to earth Opened my eyes to the privilege we've been granted

Y/N L/N Take this as a warning Max The high life isn't gonna last forever

*blocked*

[alucards-boots]

Heyyy

Since requests are open, here's something I've been thinking about for a while:

At the end of Castlevania (2017-2021), we see Dracula and Lisa are alive. Imagine that while they were travelling (for a longe while, because they wanted to give Alucard space and time to process everything) Alucard and reader (who just so happens to be immortal, though not a vampire (up for you to decide what she is)) got married. Some time later, Dracula and Lisa came to reunite with their son and met his wife (a scholar, like them, humanities oriented, orchestra composer too, perhaps?).

I just love to imagine their interaction, I think Dracula and reader would get along so well😭

Sorry if it is too much or too detailed, please don't feel pressured to indulge my delirious impulses lol‼️ Also, just wanted to say that you are such a good writer, you have an incredible way with words! Thank you for sharing your work with us, I love to read it every time, Gods bless you🫶🫶

Hello dearest! I’d love to indulge in your delirious fantasies! In fact, its no pressure at all! Aha i do hope i have a way with words, thank you my sweet, may the gods bless you too far more! 💝

Dracula’s heart nearly dropped out of nostalgia at the sight of his castle, lisa gasped at the sight of wandering villagers, some houses near, her baby boy did her justice..

Dracula felt nervous, his voice stammering slightly. “Perhaps— perhaps its best if we go at night.. i would not like to intervene.”

“Well, we are intervening by meeting him..”

It took a while to convince her, she eventually relented, deciding to wait until night.

Around the night.. it wasnt so.. well, expected.

As lisa and dracula stepped into the castle— how? Well, this is dracula’s castle.

There came rushing feet with weapons before they took a pause.

“Adrian!..” lisa exclaimed before trailing off at the sound of the sword clinking to the floor and a loud thud.

You quickly rushed to your husband..

Who fainted.

The two rushed forward as well, catching their son, who fainted in shock, your heart is pounding, despite the situation, thats harmless, you’re still worried about your husband.

“W— who are you?”

“I’m his wife! Who—“ you paused at your sentences, taking in their features, it clicked..

On the other hand, the other two, were in shock.

“We’ll talk about this later! My husband fainted!”

You gently dapped a clean cloth, letting the cloth absorb the sweat on his forehead as he sat, conflicted— confused??— ecstatic???..

“Theyre at the main hall, love..”

“I—..i— i don’t understand..”

Your lips met his temple, sending a gentle calmness through him, his hand automatically held yours.

“Saint germain must have done something.. all we know, this time, its the side of magic than science on the coin.”

He nodded with a soft hum.. still in shock but enough to gather himself.

“I.. dont know what to say..”

“You guys dont have to.. just seeing each other is enough for a conversation to last a millennia, so come..”

He hesitated before slowly getting up, your arm wrapped around his, a sign of reassurance, which helped him relax slightly.

As the two of you stepped into the main hall’s threshold, all of your eyes met, alucard wanted to faint again, his feet moving one step back before your hand placed on his lower back, encouraging him to move, and he did.

Now he is stood infront of his parents, his father..surprisingly the one with glossy eyes, he felt nervous with his father after what had happened.. but eventually you stepped back, giving them time with your hands clasped together.

Your gaze softened at the sight of them hugging snd crying, near they fell to the floor, but some caught themselves.

You heard them murmur shakily some questions, crying statements which you wanted to gold your husband but you stood still, respecting their privacy.

Lisa’s eyes darted at you before questioning her son ‘is this your wife?..’, to which alucard nodded frantically, stumbling up to his feet to take you with him.

You felt like their circle was also gonna make you cry, but you only wanted to cry because your husband found his parents after crying all night in your arms, murmuring ‘mama’s and his father’s.

But you held your guard, wanting to keep a good impression as you kneeled back down with them, it felt like the little circle alucard has always talked about.

Lisa was the first to hug you, you hugged her back, your hands gently brushing off the dirt in her clothes, she noted that.

You shook hands with Dracula, nodding to him in respect, he didnt expect that but he felt like him again..

“Please.. let me take you three to have some tea..” you offered, your husband holding your hand, kissing it while you chuckle softly, you assisted the other’s up.

Under the table, alucard’s trembling hands held yours, you held his with both of your hands, one of yours caressing his wrist to his palm, the one you always do to soothe him, it always worked.

You did not look human, dracula noted after a while of processing.

They finished general topics of catching up, especially lisa asking about how you two met, now then after lisa’s happy rambling about grandchildren, Dracula noted in a low tone but not dangerous, more so curious.

“You arent human, are you?..”

“No, sir.”

“What are you then?..”

You took a deep breath,

“I’m merely a star, i’m forged by not stardusts but stars.”

Dracula’s eyes widen in fascination, so did lisa.

“So, a cosmic being?”

You chuckled and shook your head, “i am one of the stars.. is all.”

For a bit, alucard’s palms loosened after the death grip, signaling relaxation, you always knew how to word things and calm things down, perhaps its a part of your star-like aura?

“Interesting.. while being here, i’ve seen you with books, are you a doctor or somewhat?..”

“I’m a polymath.”

His eyes widened, “a polymath?” Almost as if he spoke of interest, finding someone in common with him, not expecting it to be alucard’s wife.

You grinned slightly, a bit nervous. “Yes..”

He chuckled a breathless laugh. “Its been awhile since i’ve finally met another polymath..”

You exhaled a relaxed sigh. “I hope i do you best, sir.”

“Please, call me vlad.”

You blinked in surprise, not knowing you quickly gained that much privilege, but maybe you being a polymath, and Alucard’s wife was a bonus.

You watched Alucard walk with his mother, smiling at the sight.

“You know.. the talk with him was very long.. i missed him.”

You turned to your side, noticing dracula holding a book, his eyes glued to the sight of his family.

“Well.. i understand how guilt can sometimes influence conversations, but he seemed far relieved to know his family is back than the past, you know.”

point 1.

He shrugged, closing the book before sliding it back to the other spine’s, aligning them well.

“This is new to me.. i, too, was confused on what happened, but now i know, i suppose.”

You nodded, you turned to him, speaking in a voice everyone would find elegant.

“This is your chance to reunite with your son the way you and him intended, he may be nervous, but deep down, he missed you, ever so deeply.”

his gaze softened before turning his gaze back to the aligned bookshelves, trying to find anything— any mistakes to fix and reslide the books, anything.

“How.. do you know that, then, y/n?”

“he cried at the spot he once killed you on.. that burned carpet..” you trailed off, your heart aching but his father needed to know. “I was the one who insisted to fetch your ring, to hand it back to you, it stayed there for so long, the childhood room was untouched.”

It was a moment of silence before his hand met your shoulder, the ring you fetched glinted on the moonlight and torches.

“I know you will do well for my son.”

you looked up at him, in reverence, then nodded.

“I certainly hope i do, vlad..

or doctor vlad? Mr. Vlad?—“

“Er— vlad would be nice.”

[gossippool]

what do you recommend for people who are very new to deadpool comics and looking to get into them?

hiii thank u for asking!! this is kind of a complicated question because there's no right answer really. especially with deadpool, there's no actual best starting point because besides the basic origin story that he was experimented on, everything else about him is fair game (he just lies all the time and has false memories about his past) and so all the comics are different, although some are connected. but here's a list of a few comics depending on what you want to explore (i have not read every deadpool comic ever so this is not the best list but i will get there):

for shorter and more lighthearted reads:

deadpool (2022)—SO so cute wade has a crush on this non-binary assassin and it's actually adorable how much he likes them lol. in terms of shorter deadpool comics i think this one is quite a standout [update: the ongoing deadpool (2024) is brilliant as well and is a direct more in-depth continuation of this]

deadpool infinity comic (2021)—a short partnership with sue storm. funny and the art style is so cute too

deadpool (2018) #6—the issues in this run are all kinda standalone stories (although they all connect at the end). they're all a fun time but this issue in particular is hilarious. comics usually don't make me actually laugh but this one did

for a more meta read that explores exactly what makes wade unique from other superheroes:

deadpool kills the marvel universe (2011)—in my opinion THE most iconic deadpool run, i'm sure everyone's heard of it lmao. a little darker but hey cameos from every marvel character ever. this was the first deadpool comic i ever read and it was a good time

for a familiar face from deadpool and wolverine (for other specific familiar faces you could just search "deadpool vs [character]" and that comic would probably exist):

honestly just search "deadpool and wolverine" and you'll probably get the whole list but here are some i've read that are lovely:

deadpool & wolverine: wwiii (2024)

deadpool vs. wolverine: slash 'em up infinity comic (2024)

weapon x-traction (2024)

for long in-depth characterisation that explores a lot of deadpool lore:

deadpool (2012)—if you've been following me you might know this is my favourite deadpool comic ever. it's pretty depressing and much grittier than the movie deadpool you might be used to, also REALLY long so it can be daunting but it's very worth it imo. it starts to get really good by the good, the bad, and the ugly issue and there's just SO much in it. for me wade in this run is inseparable from wade as a character to me (this comic is also followed up with deadpool (2015) and despicable deadpool (2017). these aren't necessary to read because 2012 kind of wraps up on its own, but it's definitely bittersweet to get to the end)

deadpool (1997)—another hulk of a comic run. i have not read this yet but i've heard very good things about it, and many people say that joe kelly is the defining deadpool writer so you could give it a go! older comics may be a little harder to read though, from experience

for comics featuring ellie (wade's daughter) that you may want to read in order if you want to fully appreciate her and wade's relationship:

deadpool (2012, 2014, 2015)

deadpool (2018, issues #8, #12, #15)

deadpool (2024)

a lot of comics will sometimes redirect you to other comics that explore a sideplot, and the main comic will just pick up where those left off so you could miss some storyline. despite this it's not necessary to read those other comics, but if you want to avoid multiple instances of this when you first go in, then i would suggest starting with the shorter runs!!

i hope this was helpful lmao sorry this got really long but i think the starting point really is different for everyone depending on what they like

[yuta-nakamots]

Talk About - L.Mark (Teaser)

Pairing - Boyfriend!Mark x University!Female Reader

Genre(s) - Fluff, Angst, University!AU, Band!AU

Warning(s) - takes place in a club (alcohol consumption, lots of yearning from the reader and Mark included in the full fic)

Summary - During winter break, you return home and watch Mark perform a new track revealing cracks in your relationship with him. On this Saturday night, you finally confront everything that’s been left unsaid, realizing Mark’s lyrics were always about you.

Teaser Word Count - 0.8k

Estimated Release Date - July 3, 2025

Author’s Note - This is a deleted scene from my fic Everybody Talks but can be read as a standalone. Lyrics from the song will be formatted like this.

Taglist - @k-vanity @cosyhomenet @neocity-net @k-films @dinonuguaegi @tinyzen @fancypeacepersona (send an ask or leave a comment to be added!)

Written for the Band AU Collab originally hosted by @gohyuck. Part of my NCT Dream: Seven Days Collection.

Now playing: Talk About - Mark Lee, Child - Mark Lee

December, 2017. Now playing: Talk About by Mark Lee, 2020.

The car radio buzzes faintly with static before you shut it off. It’s not worth fighting the reception. Outside, the wind bites at the edge of the windshield, gusting hard enough to push your car while coasting on the freeway. You tap the steering wheel in rhythm to nothing, just muscle memory and nerves.

It’s been a few days since you got home for winter break, long enough for the silence in your childhood bedroom to feel familiar again, long enough to notice that Mark’s name doesn’t light up your phone as often as it used to. 

Not that you weren’t trying to keep in contact with him. You always tried. 

Texts. Voice notes. Late-night calls filled with muffled laughter and half-drowsy ‘I miss you’s. You kept the chat alive, even when it started to fray. But time stretches things. And so does ambition. 

You haven’t seen Mark in person since the end of August, when his hands still smelled like your shampoo and you promised not to lose track of each other. Now it’s December. And he’s no longer yours in the same way he used to be. He’s busy now. Riding the high of his band’s first few shows. New songs, new crowds, new photos where his arm wraps around the shoulders of someone who isn’t you. 

You told yourself you were okay with it, that this is what you both wanted, which is why you came tonight. A Saturday night gig at a downtown venue you’ve only ever heard of in passing. Somewhere between underground and legendary, the kind of place where people say they saw something before it blew up. 

You weren’t invited. You just came after seeing the announcement. 

You took the next exit, passing dim street lights that blur into long streaks of amber. Your phone buzzes in the passenger seat, a text from a friend, not him, still nothing from Mark. Your eyes flicker to the folder flyer next to your phone, black and white, blurry ink. 

MIDAS TOUCH. Live @ The Dream Room. 

You trace his band’s name with your finger. You’re not sure why you were going to see them, just that you had to. 

My room looking like a town.

Inside, the club breathes heat. You step in and it hits you like a wall of humid, smoky air thick with sweat and perfume. The bass isn’t just sound, it’s sensation, crawling up your legs and settling behind your ribs like a second heartbeat. Your shoes stick slightly to the floor, soles catching on dried beer and god knows what else. The lights smear like wet paint. Red, then purple, then blue. Your eyes don’t have time to adjust before everything shifts again. Bodies move in slow, synched chaos. Everyone seems to know the beat, the rhythm, the way to sway their hips just enough. 

You don’t. You’re just trying not to flinch when someone brushes your arm. 

You make your way toward the back of the venue, where the lights don’t reach as far. You pass strangers who smell like smoke and know all the lyrics, placing one foot in front of the other until you can press your back against the wall. Exhale and watch. 

Mark’s bandmates are visible just beyond the curtain that separates the stage from the floor. You catch a glimpse of Jisung laughing with Chenle, both of them vibrating with the kind of energy you haven’t felt in months. Wild, directionless, young. 

One of the other members spots you, Jaemin, probably. He lifts his chin in a nod that says ‘hey’ and ‘you’re still here’ and ‘you’re not part of this anymore’ all at once. You nod back. 

You don’t belong here. But he does. 

Then, the shift. You feel it before you see it, the way the crowd pushes slightly forward, how the air tightens. The lights go low right before the first notes cut through the room. The strobe lights kick on slow, then fast, dizzying. 

And there he is. 

Mark walks onstage like he never left it. Yellow-tinted sunglasses. A half-zipped bomber jacket. His chin catches the light just so. His mouth curls into something between a smirk and a snarl. He pulls the mic to his lips. 

The bass rattles the walls, then the beat drops. 

“말하지 않아도 느껴, distance (I feel the distance, even if you don’t say a word). 풍기는 내 vibe에 다들 미쳐, addiction (Everyone’s addicted, going crazy over my vibe).”

His voice is sharp, razor wire wrapped in velvet. He moves like he’s chasing something. 

You recognize the track. You were there in the studio with him when it was just an idea. When it was about ambition, restlessness, the hunger to make it, but it’s changed. Now it sounds like missed calls and emotional whiplash. It sounds like you.

[pseudophan]

i literally cannot begin to explain to post hiatus phannies how unprecedented the current energy is like i hate to be all “you don’t get it you had to be there��� but like you actually literally did have to be there to fully understand why this is so batshit insane that they allude to their relationship MULTIPLE TIMES A VIDEO EVERY VIDEO like i still haven’t even wrapped my head around it

the thing is you can go back and watch every second of footage that exists of dan and phil on the internet and read everything they've ever posted and you'll be more or less caught up on the lore, but the one thing you can't experience through the archives is just how monumental any little crumb of "phan" content was back then. you can see the proof of it of course in our old posts, but living through it was something else. the way dan accidentally ("accidentally") used the gay couples emoji in a tweet once in 2014 and we did not shut up about it for YEARS. every time something like that happened we knew this would be a huge thing for a long time, cause who knows when the next one would be. but the funniest part was, the "next time" turned out to be sooner and sooner every time. i see some people speak as though dnp were all NO GAY EVER until 2017/2018 and then they were a little more open and then they came out but like omg no it wasn't a 0-100 kind of thing it was very much a slow build. a slowburn if you will. dan and phil, world's first slow burn couple who happened to somehow be together the entire time. there's a reason why while looking through old blog archives for @phandomheritage i find countless posts claiming 'this is the gayest phan year ever!' for every single year since 2014, cause that's really how it was! it looks silly now of course, graphs where the 'gay scale' is broken over things we wouldn't care about at allll these days, but it's actually so real they really did get progressively gayer and more open year by year and now..... what the fuck is going on now..... every video they say ten things that would turn my entire world upside down back then and it's just NORMAL. and it's. idk. how did we get here

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

00.3. your last day with quinn

➴ chapter warnings: mention of a restrictive diet, constipation.

➴ word count: 1.7k

💌 from me to you: this was supposed to be a cute, hurt/comfort chapter but. i listened to madison beer while writing this so things took a turn and now it’s just depressing. at least there’s still some hurt/comfort here :,)

౨ৎ

2017, SEPTEMBER.

YOU were having the worst day ever.

It was a Friday, and one of those days where anything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong. First, you woke up at half-past five with a fever that made your entire body shiver. Your pajama was glued to your body, sticky with sweat. You sat on the bed, immediately regretting it because your head started spinning and suddenly you needed to throw up everything you’d eaten for dinner last night.

You felt like shit even when you managed to shower, sitting on your bathtub and letting the tears fall from your face. You felt so tired. It had already been a very stressful week, with your Mom forcing you to attend castings and auditions, making calls here and there so you could get the jobs she wanted for you, controlling everything you ate and drank.

On top of all of that, Peter and Quinn were leaving for college and you were sure you had never felt so alone before.

Quinn became your favorite person in the entire world when you both met four years ago. He was so important to you, and even though sometimes your heart didn’t understand what exact feelings you had for him, you needed him in your life.

The friendship you’d built over the past four years meant the world to you. How he took care of you, and how he tried to balance his career with still trying to be present in your life. How he would always ask about how you were doing in school, or about your dreams and wants. How he had introduced you to his family and how Jim and Ellen were nice to you, letting you come over to do your homework with Jack or Luke.

How sometimes you’d find Quinn practicing in their homemade ice rink, and you’d watch him for hours, impressed by his moves and skills. How sometimes you’d notice his hair falling out of the helmet, the sweat decorating his face and his blue, greenish eyes that would stare at nothing but the puck.

So when you found out he was leaving for Michigan? It hurt more than anything else, even if you were extremely happy for him.

You got out of the shower, feeling your body hurt everywhere. You were thankful that your classes didn’t start until next week and you didn’t have any auditions today so you could just jump right back in your bed.

Which was exactly what you did, sleeping like the dead after letting your tears fall for a bit more.

You woke up a few hours later, with a soft touch on your arm. Opening your eyes and immediately feeling them getting wet, you saw Quinn standing beside your bed.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he said, smiling. “Maria let me in. You didn’t come say goodbye to me.”

Your sick, tired brain took a little while to process what he was saying. Until you looked at the digital clock that sat on your bedside table, reading 11:34 a.m., Friday, 6 September.

Fuck.

You tried to get up, but your body still felt heavy. You were still shivering underneath the covers and your throat hurt.

“Maddie?” You could see he had stopped smiling.

You tried to smile, feeling the need to reassure him. “I’m sorry. I forgot to set an alarm,” you lied, trying to get up again and, thankfully, succeeding this time. “I’ll be downstairs in just a minute. Sorry.”

Getting up didn’t exactly mean success, since your legs failed after five steps and now you were on the floor, with your knee hurting like a bitch.

“Maddie, what,” Quinn said, quickly coming to your rescue, like he often did. You had a headache? Quinn had the right medicine for it. You hurt your finger? Quinn wrapped your hand with a bandage. You were hungry? Quinn was already in the kitchen making your meal. “What’s going on? Are you sick?”

“No, just— I just woke up.” You didn’t know why you kept lying to him and you felt like shit, but it was his leaving day. The Hughes were moving back to the US, so that Jack and Luke could join the NTDP in Michigan and Quinn could go to UMich. And it couldn’t get worse, not really. “I’m fine.”

“I can tell when you’re lying, Madison,” he hissed, angrily. You frowned. Quinn had never gotten angry at you, not even when you managed to ruin his hockey uniform with glitter. “You’re sick. Did you eat?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, as he walked you to bed again. “I am fine, Quinn. It’s just constipation or whatever.”

“Stop acting like this is nothing, Madison.”

“Stop calling me that,” you frowned, annoyed for no real reason. You were going to miss them so much.

“It’s your name, isn’t it?” He raised his eyebrow.

“Why are you being so mean?” You whispered, feeling your eyes tearing up again, the fever making you shiver.

He stopped scowling for a second, softening his eyes at you. He sat beside you, placing his hand on your thigh, which you promptly grabbed. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be mean. It’s just— I hate when you act like what happens to you isn’t important.”

You squeeze his hand, feeling less cold now.

“You’re like my little sister, so watching you sick is just as upsetting as it is with Lukey or Jack,” he chuckled, laughing like he hadn’t just shattered your feelings right there.

You didn’t know exactly what you felt for him, but you knew for a fact it wasn’t that silly admiration you had for him when you were little. You were fifteen now, and just when you were supposed to crush on the boys at your school, you were always comparing them to Quinn instead. And Quinn is always better than them.

Not to mention that he’d been getting cuter. He was losing his teenager features and it didn’t help it with your little infatuation for him.

Hearing him confirming that you were nothing but a family member to him stung. This was definitely the worst day of your life.

“Right,” you whispered, releasing his hand and wrapping your arms around your body. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go downstairs and say bye to you all. I’m sorry for that.���

“We’re only leaving at night so don’t worry. We’ll make sure you’re feeling better until then.” He replied, getting up.

“Where are you going?” You asked, confusion taking over your face.

“I’m gonna ask Maria to make some soup for you while I go look for some cold medicine,” he put his hands inside his jeans pockets, something he did often, and smiled at you. “Do you think you’ll be fine here for ten minutes?”

You nodded, watching as he poked your cheek before leaving your room.

You laid down for a while, trying to organize your thoughts. You still didn’t understand what the Hughes leaving meant to you, only that you’d miss them like they were your own. Because for a while, that’s what they were.

You must have snoozed again because next thing you know, Quinn was shaking you lightly again. You opened your eyes, staring at him.

“Maria made you chicken noodle soup and I brought you juice and pills,” he pointed at the tray on your desk, smiling.

You got up, sitting up against the headboard, and thanking him as he placed the tray on your lap.

“Mom would probably kill me if she knew I’m eating noodles,” you joked, coughing loudly. Ugh.

“I won’t tell her a thing, promise,” he quickly said, sitting on the chair beside your desk, resting his hands on his knees, as he watched you eat. “Can’t believe we’re actually leaving.”

You chuckled. “Yeah.”

“You will come to visit us, right?”

You placed your spoon inside your bowl again, staring at Quinn’s face, trying to memorize all of his features at once. His upper lip, slightly thinner than his bottom one. His wavy, brown hair, messy and untamed, so beautifully shaped. His eyes, darker than Luke and Jack’s, but still bright and vibrant. His nose, big and cute and your favorite feature on his face.

Oh, you were going to miss him so much.

“‘Course I will,” you mumbled, shoving the last spoonful of soup into your mouth. Lying to Quinn always felt wrong. “I’m… I’m gonna miss you,” His eyes softened, and before he could speak, you continued. “You made my life so much easier. You and your family are so important to me so thank you.” You felt your eyes watering, and you looked up. No crying in front of anyone.

“Oh, Maddie,” he got up, removing the tray from your lap and putting it back on your desk, so he could sit beside you. “There’s no need for tears.”

You tried to give him a reassuring smile and tell him you’re okay but you only managed to let more tears fall from your eyes.

He placed your head on his shoulder, pulling the blanket until it reached your chin, covering you completely. Then, he gently grabbed your hand underneath and held it tightly.

“I’ll be only an one hour flight away, Maddie. Our house is your house too.”

You sniffled, feeling your body starting to hurt again.

You wanted to tell him that you didn’t want him to leave, that you needed him in your life and that you loved him. A young, unripe love that made your chest hurt every time you thought about it.

But you knew that you were just being selfish. Ever since you met him, you knew Hockey was his life. It is his favorite thing in the world, and it means a lot to them.

So you would never tell him anything. No. At least one of you deserved to be happy.

“I know,” you mumbled. “Can I take a nap?”

He chuckled beside you. “Yeah, ‘course. Not before you take your medicine though.”

You rolled your eyes, hiding the rest of your face under the cover, hearing Quinn’s soft laugh.

Little did you know you’d keep that sound safe and secure in your heart, for the rest of your life.

[sinofwriting]

It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore - Max Verstappen (& Lewis Hamilton)

Words: 4,816 Summary: Y/N Rosberg, Nico Rosberg’s little sister, returns to the world of F1 after six years away. And she returns in the most unexpected garage. Warning(s)/Note(s): Takes place in 2022, Past Relationship with Lewis Hamilton that involves an age difference of about 11 years. Secret/Private Relationship(s), Smut in the Imola 2022 part

Masterlist | Support Me! | It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore Verse

Jeddah 2022

Lewis scoffs as he reads the trash article. It was anything but substantial and from a site that was more known for just recirculating already known things in their own words and for the occasional lie to stir up drama.

He had only seen it because he had alerts on his personal phone for her name and he couldn’t help but click on it seeing that it was popping up on an F1 related site. He expected it to be one of those top ten outfit things, he hadn’t expected utter garbage.

He’d know if she was returning to the paddock, he would’ve been told, especially during one of the first few weekends of the new season. The first season since he had won that he won’t have the number one on his car and his jaw clenched at the reminder that he was no longer the current world champion, that he had to stay longer, needed to stay longer. He wanted that eighth championship, and until he got it he was staying, needed to. And this year could be the year, would be the year.

“Have you seen this rubbish?” Lewis asks Toto when he steps out of his driver’s room and into the garage. It’s filled with life as everyone gets ready for the first free practice session. Shouts being heard back and forth. The whirring of tools as mechanics make sure they’re all working and where they should be.

“What rubbish?” His Austrian accent is thick as it wraps around the words.

He glances around, looking for cameras, spotting none, he still lowers his voice. “Y/N,” the name is awkward off his tongue and it makes Toto flinch, no one had called her that, not unless it was for something important, like life or death. “Some blog reported that she’s in Red Bull’s garage.” He laughs.

The taller man stills.

Toto after all these years still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened between Mouse and Lewis. He knew what had happened between Nico and Lewis, had tried to fix it, to patch it up, to stay neutral, but his preference for Lewis had been obvious to Nico and the brotherhood that had been so strong, had spanned so many years, ended quicker than it began as the season drew on and the tension got tighter.

And while he hadn’t managed to play middle man without one of them getting mad, shouting, screaming, storming away like a toddler. Mouse had. She had easily gone between the two men as they both threw fits. He still wasn’t sure how the girl had done it, barely an adult, but dealing with two grown men, but she had and handled it like a champ. Toto had never been allowed to hold Nico’s trophy like Lewis had allowed him to when he had won before, but he knew and had seen how Nico let her hold. As if it was not just his but hers as well.

Toto had expected when the 2017 season started even with Nico, leaving, retiring, for her to come anyways. Had set aside passes for her, made sure that she was in the system to be allowed in despite knowing that she would show up with Lewis, because that’s how it had always been. If she wasn’t showing up with her brother, she was showing up with Lewis. But she was a no show and when he tried to reach out, he was blocked.

She went full no contact with everyone in the racing world and at first Toto had thought that maybe something serious had happened, but she was still posting on her blog, though there was a distinct lack of F1, she just wasn’t talking to him. He could still remember the swell of anger that came over and then the shame that had quickly followed. How he had gone to Lewis to ask if she was alright, if she was mad at him, mad at Mercedes, only for Lewis to flinch, to shake his head. Telling him that he hadn’t heard from her or seen since the day after Nico won his championship. He could still feel the bitterness that rolled off of Lewis’ tongue as he said that none of the Rosberg’s were talking to him.

“It’s not rubbish.” Toto manages to say after a moment, trying to push back the memories, the grief of no longer getting to see Mouse grow up, because god she had just turned twenty-six and the last time he had seen her, she was twenty, still a child in many ways. “She is at Red Bull’s garage.”

“What?”

“She showed up after all the drivers did, waited I think, and made her appearance. Went straight to Red Bull. She had passes.”

“She’s never liked Red Bull.”

“You’ve never liked Red Bull.” Toto corrects.

It was a thing that had frustrated much of the Mercedes team, how despite himself, Nico, and Lewis despising Red Bull, she still liked them, would pop into their garage, chat with their drivers, mechanics, engineers, and such. Toto nearly had an aneurysm the first time he saw her and Horner talking.

“Doesn’t make sense.”

“No it doesn’t.”

—

“Red Bull, huh? Naughty, naughty girl.” He clicks his tongue.

She rolls her eyes, “You already knew that I was going there.”

He laughs, “Doesn’t mean I can’t tease you about it.”

“Was there a reason you called, Nico?”

“What? I can’t check in on my sister?”

She rolls her eyes again, but grins.

“I just wanted to make sure that nothing happened.”

“Lewis didn’t try to talk to me or at least not that I know of.” It was easy to read between the lines with Nico. “I stayed at Red Bull, in their garage, no one but Red Bull personnel came close to me.”

“And you still want to do this?”

“Yes.” Her voice is soft and she sits on the hotel bed, crossing her ankles. “I’ve missed it, the sport, the paddock, it’s nice to be back.”

“And Mercedes?”

“I have no interest in talking to anyone at Mercedes, past or present. They don’t matter, not anymore.”

“Mouse. You will be careful, yes? I’m not there anymore.”

“Careful as can be.”

Australia 2022

He expects her to be at the next race in Australia and he doesn’t know why. It had been one of the races she was always willing to miss as she hated flying there. Not feeling it was worth it.

So he pretends not to be disappointed when no photos of her arriving popping up, not even whispers of rumors of her sneaking in which he wouldn’t believe in the first place. The idea of her sneaking into a race made him scoff. It wasn’t her, that wasn’t how she operated. He knew her, knew she liked the attention of arriving at the races just like he did. He also pretends that it doesn’t hurt to think about how they used to show up together to races.

Imola 2022

“You’re going to win.” She soothes, rubbing his shoulders and he can’t help but let them drop, let her loosen the tension in them.

“I retired from the last race.”

“And that was the last race.”

He wants to deny it, there’s still that feeling that settles at the bottom of his stomach when he doesn’t win, when he isn’t on the podium, in the points. But it’s lessened as he’s been with her. “And tell me, schat.” He grabs at her hand, gently pulling her until she’s in front of him, standing between his legs. “Will I just win the GP or also the sprint?”

She smiles and he can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Both.” She tells him, resting her hands on his face and letting their lips brush together. “You’ll win both, Max.”

He wins the sprint and then the GP and he’s thankful that she isn’t out with the rest of the team when he’s on the podium, that she stayed in his drivers room, waiting for him. Because he knows that if she had, he would’ve ruined their plans of staying private, secret. He would have kissed her, told her that she did it, she told him he was going to win, so he did. He won both of them for her.

Max does tell her that. He tells her that in between champagne flavored kisses, along with thanks and murmurs of his love against her skin as she sighs and tugs at his nomex.

“I could win every race this season with you supporting me, schat.” His breathing is heavy, he’s in between her thighs, racesuit and nomex just tugged down enough for his dick to be free, ass exposed.

She hadn’t protested, but moaned when he ripped through her tights that she was wearing underneath her skirt, and moaned again when he moved her underwear to the side. Rubbing at her clit to get her wet as he quickly prepped her before sinking into her. He repeats it as he thrusts inside her, high on not the two wins, but on her, on her support, her belief. “You’re my lucky charm.”

She freezes around him, her moans tapering off and he curses as he realizes what he said.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, lips against her forehead. “I did not mean.”

“I know.”

She sounds sure, truthful, but her legs that had been tight around him, heels digging into him, have loosened.

“If I don’t win a race that is my fault or the teams. It is not yours.” He tells her.

She nods but doesn’t look at him.

“Schat.” He holds her chin between two fingers, holding eye contact with her. “You are my lucky charm. Not because I think I will win races because of you and your support. Because you make even the races I don’t win feel okay, like I haven’t failed.”

“You haven’t failed.” She immediately says frowning and her legs are tightening back up around him. “You can’t win every race no matter how good luck it looks on you.”

He flushes at her words.

“I know you are different from him. You have shown that already.” She struggles with the next words. “I just don’t think I can handle being called a lucky charm yet.”

“Then I won’t.” He tells her.

She blinks at him, at how easy he said, at simple he’s making it. “But you said.”

“Yes.” He shrugs, shifting his weight and they both hiss at how his body moves from it, both having forgotten that he was still inside her. But he pushes his building arousal away. “But I won’t say it any more. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.”

She stares at him for a few seconds before smiling. “Ik houd van je, Max.”

He smiles back at her, kissing her. “Ik houd van je, schat.”

He goes to pull out, unable to ignore the arousal building in him anymore, but not wanting her to feel like they need to have sex, but her heels are pressing into him, thighs tightening around him.

“Fuck me, Max.”

He says her name, quiet and with wide eyes.

She moves her hips and he follows them with a snap of his own. “You won two races.” She murmurs, breathing tickling his lips before she’s placing her lips on his jaw, moving them down to his neck. “Fuck me, Max. I want you to. Want to celebrate with you like this.”

She’s sucking a mark into his skin and he’s choking down a groan. “Just us two, our own quick celebration before you have to go with your team. Before I’m left all alone in our hotel room.”

He starts to thrust again, pressing his lips against hers before she can say anything else, before he really leaves any earlier than he was already planning to at the dinner celebration the team was holding.

As he continues to thrust into her, his lips stay against hers, muffling both of their sounds, but as he feels his balls tightening, he breaks them apart, pressing her face into his neck, encouraging her to bite at him as his other hand goes between their bodies, to her clit.

The bite of hers against his collarbone when she clenches around him, cumming, has him hissing. He stills his hips as she comes down from her orgasm, still rubbing at her clit, but more gently.

“Where do you want it?” He asks, when she bats his hand away from her and presses for him to continue to rock into her body. His orgasm is quickly approaching and really he should be pulling out, just finish in his own hand in case he finishes inside her before she says it’s okay. But she’s tight and warm and feels too good. “Do you want it in your mouth? Want me to pull out? Finish in my hand, feed it to you?”

She moans at his words, at the thing they’ve done once before.

“Or do you want me to leave you something? Cum inside you and have you feel it drip out, go back to the hotel with just your underwear stopping it from dripping down your leg and ruining your tights.”

“Inside Max. Please, inside me.”

He groans at her words, hips speeding up. He only manages a few solid thrusts before he’s shuddering, pressing as close as he can as cums inside her, muffling a moan against her shoulder.

His hips twitch a little in the aftershocks of his orgasm as he pants against her shoulder.

“You’re going to kill me.”

“With what?” She laughs. “Orgasms?”

“With your dirty little mind.” He tells her, slowly pulling out, rubbing at her thighs as he does.

She laughs again and he smiles at how her whole face lights up.

Miami 2023

It’s Miami. It’s extravagant. It’s the first race at the new circuit. It’s her.

She’s dressed in a soft color, bringing out her eyes. She’s wearing the bracelet he gave her when she turned fourteen, the ring her father gave her that once belonged to her grandmother. She’s not wearing the necklace he gave her when she turned eighteen. It’s back in Monaco, still sitting on the nightstand of what’s still her side of the bed.

She has new bracelets, rings, and a new necklace. The necklace makes his jaw clench, fists tighten. He had never thought to consider that maybe she’d be with someone else after all these years. He hadn’t, not for anything more than one night.

Lewis stares at the clasp of her necklace. Wonders if it’s worth anywhere near what he gave her. Wonders who gave it to her. Some boy with a trust fund? Some guy that managed to make it to the top not because of hard work but because of connections?

He doesn’t know and it burns alongside the anger. He used to know nearly everything about her and he still knows her, he just doesn’t know the new things and that hurts worse than not knowing her at all anymore.

He watches as Geri fixes the necklace for her and wonders when exactly she got so close to Horner’s wife. “Where exactly did you get this darling?”

She glows at the name, “From a jeweler that Nico loves. I can never remember the name.”

The burning inside him vanishes at his name. Something had changed, he knew something new about her. Necklaces were no longer just things she wore from significant others.

Spain 2022

He cocks an eyebrow as George comes up to him nervously, messing with his hands. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just heard a weird rumor.” His eyes dart away and George hates that Toto is making him do this but doesn’t want to think about why, can feel the headache from just imagining thinking about the why.

“What did you hear?”

“Apparently, Y/N Rosberg,” Lewis stills at her name and curiosity clutches at George before he pushes down and away. “got snuck into the Red Bull garage.”

The older man immediately scoffs. “Yeah, right. She likes arriving at the races.”

He raises his hands, “that’s just what I heard.”

“Well, it’s wrong. A shit rumor. Anyone who knows Mouse,” the nickname leaves his mouth before he can think, can stop it, “knows that she loves arriving on a race weekend, all the cameras, getting to show off whatever outfit she put together.”

“Just what I heard, mate.” George repeats, before quickly retreating, cursing Toto out underneath his breath as soon as he rounds the corner and is far away from Lewis.

Monaco 2022

She’s not at Monaco. She’s not at Monaco.

The words are on repeat in his head. He doesn’t understand it. She lived here or maybe had lived here. Monaco was small, it was hard to imagine that he had never run into her since the end of 2016 but then again he managed to dodge him. So it was possible.

He just didn’t like the idea of it. That if she still lived here that she had made sure to dodge him, to make sure they never ran into each other.

Austria 2022

She doesn’t show up at Baku, her favorite circuit, Montreal, or Silverstone, but she’s here at Austria. He can’t make sense of why she’s showing up at the races she is. Can’t make sense of why it’s only Red Bull’s garage that she visits.

It’s driving him insane trying to make sense of it. Just like he can’t make sense of another rumor that she sneaked into watch the race in Baku. This one hadn’t been quiet though from George. It had made its run on twitter and instagram, though most fans of hers just like him, knew that they were false. Her blog was still full of talking about how much she loved showing up at race weekends, feeling the energy, interacting with fans, even if they were years old. It was telling that she never deleted them. And he knew that she’d never sneak into a race.

July 2015

“Lew?” Her voice is quiet, barely a whisper, as if she’s afraid he fell asleep.

He makes a humming noise, keeping his eyes closed but pressing his fingers a bit more into her back as they dance along her spine.

“When do you stop?”

He frowns at the vague question, eyes blinking open. “Stop what?”

“When did you stop seeing me as Nico’s sister? As a kid?”

His fingers pause as he thinks about her questions, wonders if he really wants to tell her, really wants her to know. He takes a deep breath, in and out of the nose before letting his fingers continue to dance. “As Nico’s sister? Probably around 2011 and Nico wasn’t hiding you away from everyone as much. I still see you a bit as his sister, don’t know if that will ever change.”

She nods, “and as a kid?”

“December 2013.” He’s just happy that he doesn’t remember the day. “Nicole and I joined Nico, Viv and you on that yacht.”

She makes a humming noise, curling closer to him.

“Nicole noticed actually.” And he has to chuckle remembering his then girlfriend’s reaction. “She hadn’t seen you for a few months and had never seen you like that. Told me that I’d have to help Nico out with keeping guys like us away from you.”

She huffs out a laugh, but doesn’t say anything, sensing that he’s not done.

“She said that and I looked and suddenly you weren’t five years old content only in Nico’s arms, or ten crying because Keke and Nico were leaving without you again. You had grown and you were fucking gorgeous.”

She stares at him, unsure of what to make of what he just told her. Not sure how she felt that it was Nicole that had made him realize that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. “You know,” she starts. “I had boobs way before I was seventeen.”

Lewis sputters out a laugh and she laughs as well. “Well, I wasn’t looking.”

She shakes her head, before tucking it into the crook of his neck. “No, just waited until I was a month away from being legal.”

“Yeah and I waited longer to do anything about it.”

“Not that much longer.” She mumbles, grinning against his skin when he pinches at her.

Spa 2022

They’re making a statement, not one that says much, her prior years coming to so many races and being friendly with drivers preventing that, but it’s still a statement.

It’s the second race since she’s returned instead of arriving before all the drivers or after when making an appearance in front of the cameras that she arrives when they are. More importantly she’s arrived with Max. She’s not on his arm or holding his hand, there’s a well kept distance between them. One that reads friendly, close, but not intimate. She wasn’t quite ready to go public with him, but she was willing to make it known that she and Max were friendly with each other.

“It’s nice having you here.”

She smiles at Sophie, taking her eyes briefly off the little boy in her arms. “It’s nice being here.”

The couch sinks next to her and she leans into Max as he wraps an arm around her shoulder, dropping a kiss to her temple. “Looks good on you.” He murmurs, smiling at his nephew in her arms.

“A baby? Or a baby that looks identical to you?”

“Well I’d much prefer one that looks like both of us.”

She sends him a look, but can’t not smile at his words. “Sap.”

“Just for you.”

Two days later she sits in a garage for the first time in years during a race and she remembers how much she loves it. There was nothing better than watching a race from the garage.

She watches as Max manages to recover from his grid penalty, making his way through the field and winning the race and she cheers with the rest of the garage, hugs everyone she can reach. As everyone runs out to greet Max, to watch as he celebrates his win, she stays.

Max didn’t have any impulse control when high on adrenaline, she knew exactly what would happen if she went out there with him, so she went back to his driver’s room and waits for him.

Dutch 2023

“Mouse!” Lewis calls and he watches as she stills while Horner stiffens at the name. It makes him itch. Horner and the rest of Red Bull had always been the odd ones out, never calling her Mouse, but rather her name or girly, the last she took a shining to.

He could still remember the first time they had heard Horner call her that. He had been ready to punch him, but she had beamed at the team principal, jumping up to give him a hug and asking him about his wife.

“Lewis.” Her voice is cool and he nearly flinches at her calling him Lewis. He had never been Lewis to her, always Lew.

“How have you been? It’s been awhile.” Nearly six years, he thinks but doesn’t say.

“Good. So has Nico.”

He flinches at his name. “Good.” His voice is quiet. “That’s good.”

Horner wraps an arm around her shoulders, “Let’s go. We’re going to be late.”

She nods and doesn’t even glance at him as she and Horner walk away, leaving him looking after her with despair and grief threatening to swallow him whole.

Japan 2022

He watches as she looks at Max with tears in her eyes as the Red Bull crew cheer as Max gives his post race interview, smiling as he thanks the fans, smiling because he won his second championship.

As soon as the interview is done, he’s launching himself back into the arms of the Red Bull crew, they all easily take his weight, patting him on the back, cheering for him. And then he watches when as soon as they release him, Max sees her. His eyes going wide with surprise at seeing her.

Lewis watches as she leans as far over the barrier as she can, wrapping her arms around his neck as his go around her waist to hold her. He watches but nothing prepares him for what happens next, the pain that strikes his heart. Because suddenly she’s kissing him, tears running down her face and Max is kissing her back like he’s done it a hundred times.

He doesn’t hear it or see it, but one of Red Bull’s cameras does and it makes it into their video to celebrate Max winning his second championship. Her saying that she’s so proud of him, never been prouder, and that she loves him and the easy way Max says it back, no hesitation.

It’s that, not her kissing Max in front of seemingly the whole world, that makes him realize that the future he had imagined, the image of her that was still the nineteen year old girl he fell in love with, is gone and has been since the night that Nico won his championship and when she came to comfort him, he only had harsh and degrading words for her.

They never could have been together again after his accusations of her feeding Nico information, blaming her for his lack of winning because she wasn’t supportive enough, his accusation of the lucky charm she was supposed to be was nothing but bad luck just like she was and always had been.

He had deluded himself into thinking that they still would end up together, that her being the love of his life, meant that he was also hers. He’s deluded himself for almost six years and now it’s not just heartbreak that fills him but shame and guilt. Because how could he have ever thought she’d want to be with him again when he never even tried to offer her an apology or to tell anyone about her.

[celestialgallaghers]

White Mustang: Saturday

I messed with the timeline a little bit but this isn’t real anyways and who built the moon era noel is peak dilf. Also gonna be splitting chapters up by days so expect ~ 7 parts :) This is a tad bit of a slow burn (my fav) so nothing too crazy in the early parts.

Prelude | Saturday | Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday | Friday

Summary: You were younger then, and it was only a crush. Something harmless born in the long hours of a studio summer. But now Noel’s here, newly divorced and quieter then you remember, sharing a house on your family’s holiday. He’s more distant, harder to read, and somehow even more gorgeous with age. Suddenly the feelings you thought had faded are back in full force. But he’s still off limits… isn’t he?

Word count: 1.8k

2017

Saturday

You hadn’t thought about him in a long time. Not really.

The months after the album wrapped had been… strange. Quiet in a way that felt off. You missed seeing him every day. Missed the low hum of energy you always felt around him. But it wasn’t like you could just call him up for a drink. You didn’t even have his number. And time alone together outside of work had never quite felt appropriate. At least not to you.

Eventually, the crush faded. Life moved on. You worked. Grew up a little. Had a string of short lived relationships, none that stuck. Still, you’d catch yourself smiling when one of his songs came on the radio.

So when your dad told you Noel would be joining the family holiday, you were surprised and honestly, elated. Your memories of those studio days had settled into something fond. Warm. The pining you'd once felt seemed almost silly in hindsight. Sweet, even. Like remembering your first big heartbreak and realizing it wasn’t really heartbreak at all.

You’d seen the divorce splashed across the papers. The kind of messy public split you wouldn’t wish on anyone. You felt for his kids. Your own parents’ divorce had been brutal, and you’d been older than they were. According to your dad, Noel had lawyers breathing down his neck and needed a break. He’d invited him along more out of solidarity than anything else.

You, your dad, and your older sister Emily had arrived on Friday afternoon. The rental house was beautiful. All white walls and floor to ceiling windows, perched just above the ocean. Your dad and Emily had claimed the two best rooms upstairs before you had a chance, leaving you the downstairs guest room. Noel, who’d only been added to the trip last minute, would be stuck with the pullout couch. Not glamorous, but your dad said he hadn’t minded. Said he just needed to breathe.

Noel wouldn’t be arriving until late Saturday night. On the flight over, you’d listened to that album again. The one you helped him finish. And the memories came rushing back in full color.

You’d come a long way since then. Three years out of uni, carving your own path. You were helping an up and coming artist on her debut EP. It was something you were genuinely proud of. It felt good. Like the start of something real.

Saturday had been low key. Grocery runs, a walk into town, figuring out where to get the best cocktails and coffee. But by nightfall, Emily was already bored.

She talked you into going to some club. Said the trip needed a little chaos. “We’re on holiday. At least try to have a fling,” she’d said, half serious. 

That wasn’t really your thing. You preferred your holidays to be relaxing and unbothered by anything. Still, you let her dress you up and drag you out.

Hours later, you were sweating in one of her tighter dresses, perched on a barstool and nursing the kind of drink that was more sugar than alcohol. Not that it mattered. Emily had already lined up rounds of shots, courtesy of some group of men she’d charmed. She was off with one of them now.

You’d been pawned off on his friend, but your one word answers eventually bored him away. You’d officially hit your limit.

The music was too loud. The lights too bright. The crowd too much.

You found Emily on the dance floor and told her you were heading out. She said she was leaving too, with the guy. You made her promise to text you and be safe, then slipped out alone.

The night air was thick and salty as you walked back toward the house. The streets were quiet at this hour. Only the distant thrum of music from the club and the sound of waves crashing just out of sight. You welcomed the quiet. Your head was buzzing from too much sugar and too little food.

By the time you pushed open the door, the rental was silent. Cool air curled around your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat still clinging to you from the club. You stepped inside, shut the door gently behind you, and let out a soft sigh. Shoes kicked off. Shoulders relaxing.

Then you heard someone clear their throat.

You jumped, heart lurching, and turned toward the sound.

Noel sat on the couch, half shadowed in the dim glow of a lamp, a glass of red wine in his hand.

Your breath caught. “Noel—Jesus Christ,” you exhaled, pressing a hand to your chest. “Didn’t think I’d see you ’til morning.”

“Sorry,” he said, voice low and familiar. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Just… couldn’t sleep.”

You blinked at him, heart still racing. In the soft light, you noticed the subtle changes. A few more lines around his eyes, hair streaked with grey. It suited him unfairly well. He looked tired, though. Not physically, exactly. Just worn. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Right. The divorce.

You crossed the room and sat on the couch. For a moment, you considered hugging him. But it didn’t feel right somehow. 

“Yeah. I couldn’t sleep the first night either,” you offered. “Never quite do in a new place.”

He nodded, gaze flicking over your face. “You’ve been out tonight, then?”

“Em dragged me out to some god awful club,” you muttered, gesturing at the dress. “Made me wear this too. Apparently I needed to 'let loose.'”

His eyes dipped down and back up quickly. It sent some unidentifiable feeling twisting through you. Your head was still a bit fuzzy and now realizing that drawing attention to your revealing dress maybe wasn’t the best idea. 

“And where’s she now?” he asked, voice smooth.

“Probably still snogging some random,” you said, sinking further into the cushions. “At least that’s where I left her.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like she’s properly on holiday.”

He shifted, draping one arm over the back of the couch. The move looked casual, but something about it made the space between you feel smaller.

“What about you?” he asked, watching you. “Any lads catch your eye?”

You looked at him, really looked, and felt your breath catch a little. He looked good. Better than he had any right to at fifty. You’d forgotten how easy it was to get lost in the blue of his eyes, even dulled by whatever he was carrying.

You gave a lazy shrug. “Nah. Not really my type.”

A beat passed. “How about you?”

He went a little still, his expression closing up.

“Me?” he echoed. “No. Not really in the mood.”

You winced inwardly. Maybe you were being too casual, too familiar. You hadn’t seen him in years.

“How’ve you been?” you asked, shifting to face him more directly. “It’s been…what, three years?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Three years.”

He paused, a slight frown tugging at his mouth. “Things have been…well, they’ve been better.”

“I’m sorry,” you said gently. “I read about the divorce.”

He nodded once. “Thanks.”

Then after a moment, “What about you? You look well.”

You exhaled and leaned fully back into the couch, relaxing after a long night on your feet. 

“I’ve been good actually. Got an album I’ve been helping out on coming out soon.”

His brows rose. “An album, eh? That’s brilliant.”

You smiled that kind of smile that came from pride more than politeness. “Yeah. I’m excited. Wouldn’t have gotten there without you, really. You gave me my start.”

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Nah. You had the ear. I just helped you trust it.”

Your chest warmed. “I listened to the old album on the flight over. Still sounds fucking amazing.”

His smile softened. “Yeah. That was a good time.”

His eyes lingered on yours, and for a moment, it felt like the room slowed. Like the memory of that summer, of all those long studio hours, was unfolding behind his gaze.

“I had the biggest crush on you back then,” you said, too easily, like your mouth forgot to ask permission from your brain.

The second the words landed, your stomach dropped. You hadn’t meant to say it. Not out loud. Not like that.

But Noel didn’t flinch.

“I know,” he said, calm as ever.

Your heart stuttered. He knew?

You’d spent an entire summer trying not to stare too long. Trying to be careful. And all that time, he’d known. And just let you.

The realization hit like a warm rush behind your ribs. A little thrill. A little panic. The kind of panic that starts in your chest and dips low into your stomach.

It changed everything and nothing all at once.

You swallowed and glanced away, but the weight of his gaze pulled you back. Your stomach flipped again, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment. It was from the way he was looking at you now. His eyes searching yours like he was trying to find the version of you he remembered.

And just like that, you were twenty-two again. Flushed and aching. Trying not to look too long at the married man across the mixing desk. Except now, you weren’t twenty-two. And he wasn’t married.

He was single. And here. And watching you.

Your gaze moved across his face, slower this time. He looked exactly the same except somehow older in a way that only made him more handsome. Time had been absurdly kind to him.

You felt your body lean in, just a little. Enough to hope he didn’t notice. Or maybe that he would.

He was staring now too. His eyes dropped to your mouth, lingered, then flicked lower before meeting yours again. A flicker of something passed through them, maddeningly unreadable.

Maybe your crush hadn’t disappeared after all. Maybe it had just been lying dormant, starved of oxygen. Waiting.

The thought scared you more than you expected.

You weren’t sure who had moved, or if either of you had, but the space between you suddenly felt too small. Charged.

You could almost feel what it would be like if you closed it. The warmth of him. The smell of wine and salt air and cologne.

Then, abruptly, he drained the rest of his wine and stood.

“Right. I should be getting to bed,” he said, nodding toward the couch.

You blinked, slow to follow. Oh. Right. You were in his bed. The thought lodged itself in your chest.

You stood from the couch, a little unsteady, the cheap vodka still working its way through your system.

Noel’s hand came out instinctively, catching you at the waist. “Careful, love.”

The word love curled in your ears. His touch was gentle but firm and sent heat crawling up your neck.

This was bad. Very bad.

You swallowed and moved away from him. “Yeah, I should be getting to bed too.”

He nodded. “Take a glass of water.”

You nodded and turned down the hallway, hyper aware of the way your dress cut across your back. Hyper aware of his eyes on you. Still feeling the phantom touch of his hand.

You were so fucked.